Unraveling Fate

Disclaimer: Nope, totally don't own the YOI masterpiece, unfortunately.

chapter one: the end is just as abrupt as the beginning

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"Hey," my best friend said softly, on the night of our graduation. "If you got a chance to start over, what would you do?"

Which, in other words, was basically: what do you regret?

"Hmm," I hummed softly, tune reminiscent of Rachmaninoff's Vocalise. It was a bizarre question to be asked, especially on such a night of beginnings and ends. But I decided to humor my friend. I always did.

"Well, I don't know. Probably learn all the things I now regret not learning. Like dancing. And skating. Yeah, that. Even though you tried your best to teach me, I still can't move on the ice!"

"Ha! You can still learn now, you know."

Oh, but I did know. Between my studies and my hobby in music, between keeping up with my dreary social life and with my much more exciting fandoms, where could I find the chance to learn something new? Dancing was also something I've always wanted to learn too.

"Maybe," I demurred with a soft smile, already getting up from my chair to join the rest of the party.

Maybe, but probably not. I wouldn't have the time for that now, right?

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"Everything turns in circles and spirals with the cosmic heart until infinity. Everything has a vibration that spirals inward or outward — and everything turns together in the same direction at the same time. This vibration keeps going: it becomes born and expands or closes and destructs — only to repeat the cycle again in opposite current. Like a lotus, it opens or closes, dies and is born again. Such is also the story of the sun and moon, of me and you. Nothing truly dies. All energy simply transforms."

― Suzy Kassem

I stared blankly at the . . . my . . . reflection in the mirror.

A . . . chubby child stared back at me.

Um. Wow. Speechless could not even cover what I currently felt.

. . . So, okay. Granted, it took a few years, a few confusing years, for the memories to start kicking in. But eventually everything was slated into place where they suddenly clicked, and now, well.

"Hello," I said quietly to the tiny boy in the mirror. His small mouth copied my own as his round eyes widened with growing horror. "Hello. I am Katsuki Yuuri, and I am three years old."

Silence.

Well, not complete silence. Mari-neechan was yelling something about being low on eggs to Mama ―Mother? But . . . I already had a mother . . .― while customers bustled downstairs with jolly laughter. It was the background music I heard every single day since I was born.

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It felt new. Could someone's life really change so drastically in such little time?

"Hello, I am Katsuki Yuuri and I am three years old."

My voice hitched, and well, despite my desperation, the repeated words did not make them seem any more true. Ignoring the scalding hot tears (traitors!) that dripped down my face, I leaned over to press my small palms into my eyes.

And then, against my better judgement, I let the dam completely burst. Because though I was Katsuki Yuuri, I was now, in any case . . . in that quiet moment of weakness, I was only myself.

I would be Katsuki Yuuri in a few hours, or maybe in a couple of minutes. But for now, I was only a small child mourning for something I had unfortunately lost.

It hadn't been surprising, exactly, but I still felt as though I was in a state of shock as I stood in the music store. My pleas to start violin lessons ―not that I would really need them― and maybe dance, too, Mama, had been met with enthusiastic agreement despite my very young age. Even Mari-neechan, who usually teased me about these things, had been strangely supportive.

In any case, I was happy. Violin was a familiar presence in the sea of uncertainty, and I was happy to have it back. I was also happy to start dance as well, even though I doubted I would do well.

(I very carefully did not think about my name, or the bizarre interest in figure skating from, well, everybody. And no, I did not search up 'Viktor Russian skater' in different variations on my search bar.

No, I most certainly did not.)

I was four when I met Yuuko and Takeshi. It, um, they, could be summarized in a few short words. Like:

Yuuko was painfully nice. Takeshi was painfully, well, not.

The end.

. . .

Okay, okay, fine. Sheesh, I'll elaborate a bit more.

So, the meeting. Well, I met Yuuko and Takeshi at school. At first, I didn't even know who they were, especially since we were all in different grades. Even their names didn't ring any bells, at least not for a while.

But then, during lunch one day, Yuuko bounded toward my corner in which I was squirreled away with a book. Strangely, because I could remember how at this age boys usually stuck to boys, Takeshi followed her.

"'ello!" A girl cried, a slight lisp to her words. I found it almost strange. The girl looked far older than me and she still had a lisp? "Can' I si' wit' you?"

The boy beside her grumbled something under his breath and gave me a menacing stare, as if he was trying to force me to agree. Or, well, it would have been menacing if it hadn't came from a five year old brat.

"S-Sure," I said in a daze, a bit belatedly. It was the first time someone had decided to come talk to 'Boring Yuuri', and I was more than a bit bewildered. "H-Hello, my name is Yuuri."

The girl perked up, even if the boy groaned softly. "M' name is Yuuko! He's Take'."

"Takeshi," the boy corrected, rolling his eyes. Again, I wondered why on Earth the boy was following the girl around. Were they siblings?

"Nice to meet you," I responded politely as I gave them a small smile.

And the rest, as they said, were history.

Yuuko was a bundle of energy and happiness, and Takeshi was her surly companion. With them, despite the slight ribbing I had to endure from other students or sometimes even Takeshi himself, I was happy. It was fun being with them, and with that epiphany I stuffed my screeching brain (that kept yelling about how 'it was fate!') into the farthest corner of my mind.

I was happy, and that was all that mattered.

I was five ―five!― when I won my first violin competition. I was five and already blasting through Paginini's Caprice Number 16, in a nice hall in Toyko. I was five when I received my first gold medal, the bitter whispers of 'genius' billowing around my back.

I was five when I wondered if canon Viktor had always felt as lonely as I did, holding up my violin with a medal around my neck.

I was six when I decided to start to skate. It hadn't been a magnanimous decision, or even one because of, well, who I was. It was strangely innocent, to be honest.

"Yuuuuuuuuri," Yuuko whined, lisp long gone and looking unfairly pretty. "You already do ballet! It's the same thing!"

"Yeah," I retorted as I rolled my eyes. "Except I'll be on ice. I'll break my neck."

I had plenty of evidence for that happening too. I remembered, in a different life, when my friend tried teaching me how to skate. My friend, who had a job as a skating coach in the city. My friend, who was totally certified to teach toddlers how to skate.

My friend, who only prevented me from getting bruises by being my very own pillow as I tumbled and fell. I totally failed, crashed and burned. I even brought my friend down with me. That was how bad I was.

"I won't let you break your neck!" Yuuko cried, sounding indignant. "Takeshi won't let that happen either!"

Which . . . was a lie. I shared an exasperated look with the boy himself, before he remembered he was supposed to glare at me.

In any case, I started skating that week. It . . . did not go that well, as expected of my clumsiness. Thankfully, Yuuko was as stubborn as a mule, and Takeshi was plenty stubborn himself, so neither gave up on my non-existent skills of skating. It was exhilarating and . . . fun.

I loved it. Completely. Even the bruises on my feet were worth the few minutes of flying on ice.

I was seven, and I had already won another three gold medals. From violin, of course. They were all small awards, nothing major, but already my name was starting to show up every now and then in the national news.

'Viktor Russian skater' was also getting some results, all in Russian unfortunately. However, the images of a young teen with long, silver hair, accompanied the various articles.

Hmm.

Viktor. Viktor Nikiforov.

I was nine and I was currently being smothered to death by Yuuko. Takeshi glaring at me really did not help.

"Y-Yuuko," I gasped, feeling the air in my lungs lessen even more. "I-I'll be fine!"

It was my first international competition for violin, and surprise surprise, it was going to be in Canada. I held a special spot in my heart for Canada, especially since that was the country I had lived in, once upon a time. So needless to say, I was ecstatic about visiting.

Well, I was ecstatic. Now I was just wondering if I would live to see the maple trees once again.

"Yuuri," Yuuko sniffed, looking sad. "You'll take lots a pictures and send us messages, right?"

"You better," Takeshi grumbled under his breath. I sighed.

"Of course I will, Yuuko! I'll only be gone for two weeks anyway . . ."

Yuuko's eyes watered again.

U-Uh oh. I blanched. That was the wrong thing to say.

"Yuuuuri!"

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The competition itself hadn't been super interesting. I had won gold once again, though this time the score I had received from the adjudicator was quite close to second place. Reminding myself to practice more once I got home, I had begged my violin teacher, who had came with me, to let me go to the nearby rink. I had even brought my skates on this trip, just so I could try skating somewhere other than the skating rink Yuuko's family owned.

When my violin teacher finally relented, I was dropped off at the nearest skating rink. I had quickly gone through all the procedures before finally, I was stepping on to the ice, and―

A little boy, probably half my age, crashed into me.

"Ah!" I cried, surprised as I steadied myself and grabbed the boy so he wouldn't face-plant on the ice. "A-Are you okay?"

Thankfully, my English was top-notch. Actually, I was pretty sure that my English was a few times better than my Japanese, unfortunately.

The boy shook his head in a daze before looking up. Strangely, he looked slightly familiar. "Yes! Oh, hi, are you new?"

"Huh?" Blinking, I ran the words through my head and, oh. Was the boy a regular at this ice rink? "Yes, I'm only here for today."

"Aw," the boy pouted, before his eyes lighted up once more. "Then would you skate with me today? Momma and Papa are at bu-sy-ness today, so I'm alone!"

I melted and readily agreed. The little boy was a manipulator. I swore that when he grew up, he would have girls draped over his arms.

"Yay!" The child exclaimed, before flashing me a sunny smile. "What's your name, Miss? I'm double J, Jean-Jacques!"

. . .

Oh. So that was why he seemed familiar. But first things first . . .

My smile twitched. "Um, my name is Yuuri, and I'm a guy."

I was ten, and I was watching Viktor Nikiforov take the world by the storm.

Well, he was going to take the world soon, I just knew it. At the moment, Viktor was only in the Junior Grand Prix Final, but he was still amazing.

As for me, well. By then, my trophy count for music had increased exponentially, though I still wasn't an internet sensation like Viktor. After all, music was not as popular as figure skating in this world, and even then there was less fangirl-ing about the musicians and more emphasis on the music itself.

But like music, I adored skating. I really did. And I was rather good as well, despite not entering any competitions. So . . .

"There we have it, ladies and gentlemen! Viktor Nikiforov, gold medalist!"

I wanted that.

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I got a skating coach the very next week.

I was twelve, and I stood corrected. No, Viktor did not just take the world. He stomped over it and turned it absolutely upside-down.

Beside me, Yuuko squealed over Viktor's lovely silver hair, and how his flower crown brought out the blue of his eyes. Takeshi remained mostly disgruntled, but both of us exchanged an exasperated glance, despite my own flushed cheeks. There was no doubt that we would be both dragged into buying Viktor merchandise online, or corralled into trying his program.

(Years have passed, and now Takeshi and I had more of an understanding: Yuuko was the goddess, and we were her loyal henchmen. So we sympathized with each other a lot. Or at least, I was very sympathetic for him. After all, it was Takeshi who was going to be married to Yuuko and whipped, not me. I was going to―

. . . Never-mind.)

"Ne, ne," Yuuko exclaimed, eyes sparkling with delight. "Wouldn't it be awesome if we could skate like Viktor? Right, Yuuri?"

". . ." I stared at the cascading silver and the royal blue, before glancing at my feet. My own tiny feet, swathed in thick and white bandages.

What was I doing? Back then, I was never the athlete. I was never the sporty one, and I never chased the back of my idol.

To be honest, back then, I never even had an idol.

". . . Yeah," I murmured quietly, eyes flickering back to fixate on Viktor's bright smile. "Yeah, that would be cool."

That night, I looked up junior skating competitions in Japan.

I was thirteen and I placed First in the Sendai International Music Competition. I took the prize money, gave it to my mother, and told her very seriously that I wanted to study abroad for both skating and music and my regular academic studies.

Two months later, youthful Celestino Cialdini led me through the airport station after he picked me up, chattering brightly about my skills as a skater.

I no longer had a violin teacher.

See, at the fundamental level, I was similar to canon Katsuki Yuuri. At least I was now.

Ahem. Once upon a time, I was a hard worker.

Who was lazy.

. . . A contradiction, sure, but still very true. I was a good student with a very good memory, and I would spend hours at a time doing word problems, or reading my textbook for the fourth time before a test. I would practice violin until my fingers ached and tingled, my pinkie sometimes even swollen. I was a perfectionist, determined to do everything to the best of my abilities. To the eyes of others, I was an extremely hard worker.

But on the flip side, I slacked away a lot. I spent hours of time on my computer, pushing off any homework to be done last minute. I was a horrible procrastinator.

I wasn't anymore, however.

Now, I may have embraced canon Katsuki Yuuri's work mentalities. Every free moment I had was spent on the ice, or with my music. If I have any time in between, I would spend some time on my studies, which were going swimmingly despite how I didn't really study much. Like I said, my memory was very good, and apparently it was good enough that I could still remember things like Watson and Crick and Rosalind Franklin from beyond the grave.

As to why I was doing this . . . . well. Despite what we think, us humans . . . we don't have much time. I learnt that the hard way, and it wasn't a nice lesson. To be given this second chance . . .

I would be damned if I left with any regrets.

But though I was similar to canon Katsuki Yuuri in that aspect, I was different in every other way. Sure, I got terrible stage fright, but I managed to deal with it much better than what canon Yuuri did. Probably helped that I was, well, dead once, so nothing could ever really faze me again. I loved dogs, but my love was different from canon Yuuri's. After all, I was terrified of them. So my darling Vicchan wasn't bought because I wanted to become more like a certain Russian skater, but because I wanted to get over my fear of dogs (it was only partially working).

And Viktor. In my previous life, like any other fan, I coo'd over the character. Oh, if only he was real! I would sigh dreamily. But now that he was . . . and now that I had the chance to make sure canon played out the way it did . . .

I was disgusted. I didn't want to be an actor in Fate's play. I didn't want to be nervous-wreck Yuuri, who only caught the eyes of his idol because of his drunken dancing after he bombed his one big chance. I didn't . . . I didn't . . .

I didn't want my future to be set in stone. I loved canon Yuuri as much as any fan did, but-but. I didn't want to be him. So, for better or for worse . . .

I decided to try my best to change my future.

AN: Guess what fandom I got sucked into? This is a totally self-indulgent fic, and well, let's see where it lead us, m'kay?