Hello.
Today I bring you a set of interconnected one shot.
Use the theme where people only see in black and white until they meet their soul mate.
I hope you enjoy it and forgive my slow updates and perhaps many spelling and grammatical mistakes but english is not my native language and I am trying.
So I hope you enjoy reading❤️.
.
.
Until the age of thirteen, Yuuri only saw in black and white. This was not uncommon given that people regularly began to see colors from the age of sixteen onward, and in some cases there was the misfortune that they never managed to see them. Love, according to the fairy tales, would be that which would drive away the shadows and fill the black and white spaces with vibrant and beautiful colors.
Yuuri had lived a childhood full of such sweet stories and happy endings.
"Someday, someday you'll find someone to show you the colors, Yuuri-chan." His mother used to tell him at night before going to sleep, stroking his brown hair while smiling softly at him. "And then... love will come to your door and you'll be happy."
"Forever?" He would ask, at five years old, it seemed the most pressing question.
"Forever", her mother would say, and Yuuri would dream of that love that would show her colours even though she had no idea what it meant.
At that tender age, it was the first time he came across Yūko. Yuuri was a shy boy and when she held out her hand to help him that first time on the ice rink, for a moment he longed to see those colors. She was kind and had a nice smile, but the thing was, as Yuuri would discover a few years later, that fate sometimes likes to play tricks on you and things do not always turn out like fairy tales.
Then, Yuuri could not see colors, but if he found something else that he would love, skating opened up like a canvas for him, which Yuuri used more times than not to express his emotions.
That's how, at thirteen, Hiroko, encouraging her husband to find a better coach to make her son better at something he obviously loved, traveled to Tokyo.
There were some local ice skating competitions, and Hiroko was sure they would find information about the sport.
Tokyo was nothing like her small town, Yuuri was amazed at all that the great city had to offer, but what she had loved most was the outdoor ice rink.
He didn't have to convince his parents much to let them visit the ice rink. His father with a resigned sigh and his mother with a smile, followed him.
Yuuri made the most of it, despite the many people in attendance. Trying to make the simple turns she had barely learned to make.
It was after a turn and a series of steps that he almost stumbled upon a child no older than five.
The boy stumbled a bit and when Yuuri reached out to stabilize him, a soft tone he had never seen before began to fill his vision.
The boy in front of him gasped in surprise and Yuuri, at thirteen, discovered for the first time what his mother was talking about, the nuances of the colors were bright and made things even more beautiful. However, there was nothing more beautiful than the nuance —of which he did not even know the name— of the child's eyes in front of him. Little eyes that looked at him in absolute surprise.
"Yuratchka...", said the thick voice of a man, followed by a series of words that he did not understand because they were in another language. The little boy turned so quickly toward the voice that for a moment Yuuri thought he would fall, yet he seemed to have better balance on his little skates than many of the older attendees.
Most importantly, however, Yuuri was clear about one thing, the name of the special person who had shown him colors was Yuratchka. He repeated the name in his mind as something warm seemed to fill it.
His lips opened trying to pronounce it, to know what the sound of such a lovely name would be on his own lips, and even more, he longed to know what the child's voice would sound like, yet when he tried to say something, the child walked away from the crowd.
There were sad stories, stories that his mother had not told him but he had found in the school library, stories in which people managed to see colors, however, his special person disappeared without a trace and see those colors, was just a sad reminder that there would always be a perpetual void in his heart.
But Yuuri was not discouraged, he learned the name of the colors, and it was not strange that his favorite became green; green was the tone of the little boy's eyes, a bright green as beautiful as the leaves that populated the trees in spring; the green that in some places symbolized hope, like the one that led him to believe that one day he would see the little angel again.
He also tried to find the name, however, his search was not as fruitful because he did not know how to write it at all, yet at night when the days were darkest, Yuuri would repeat it as a prayer.
Yuratchka...
A name that symbolized everything Yuuri longed for and hoped for.
.
.
At the age of five, Plisetsky Yuri was a relatively happy child; he was a sullen boy and perhaps didn't have many friends, but he was happy. He just needed his grandfather, one of his pirozhki and some hot chocolate with marshmallows and that was it, he would include his mother but Yuri, even at five, had learned that his mother would not be happy staying with him all the time. Of course he loved her and longed for things to be different, but they were not and because he loved her he would never force her to spend more time than she desired in her presence.
However, on those rare occasions when his mother spent time with him, she would read him a lot of fairy tales with absurdly happy endings. Stories in which the prince on his white horse murdered the evil witch and then love would be the salvation of a naive princess who had fallen in love at first sight, because she had seen the colors of love.
So, that afternoon when Yuri bumped into a local boy from the place where his mother in one of her goodwill impulses had taken them on vacation, when the colors rushed and his vision changed, he had a slight idea of what it meant, however, his mother had also seen colors once before and they had left her with a broken heart.
So, Yuri didn't believe in lots of stories with happy endings, how could he? If he had such a clear example that things don't always turn out like in fairy tales in real life. People are not always saved by love, and many times the colors are even darker than the black and white scale they lived on before the arrival of that so-called love.
So, after his encounter with the boy, it was a relief when his grandfather's voice calling him, made him look away —which seemed attracted as if by a magnet— from the boy's gaze. Without wasting any time, she turned and moved towards her grandfather's warm and secure arms, because Yuri was not willing to lose his heart as his mother seemed to have lost hers.
Of course Yuri focused on other things after that, and although his curiosity struggled to know the name of all those colors he could now see, Yuri decided to keep it a secret. He feared that if anyone found out that he could see colors now, things would no longer be the same, perhaps his grandfather would look at him with that sad expression he sometimes used to look at his mother; and his mother, his mother would surely smile and laugh louder, as if the sound of her laughter could hide the pain and loneliness.
Besides, it wasn't like Yuri didn't have other things to do, like his ballet and swimming lessons.
And when he was older, figure skating presented itself to him like a canvas, where colors were the least important thing and where he could still clearly express whatever he wanted.
So, his days were busy, so busy that he could sometimes pretend that seeing in hues that other children in his age range could not was completely normal.
But, some nights, I would vividly remember the brownish hue of a boy's eyes, which with each year, his features would become more distant and undefined, like a hazy dream that the next day leaves you with only minimal details that are difficult to remember, but still so striking that during the day you would find yourself thinking about it.
The worst thing was when you could feel his nerves and his sadness, because it seems that was another of the "blessings" that came from knowing your special person, and of which Yuri felt particularly deceived because in the books there was almost no talk about it.
And to make matters worse, the boy seemed to be a crybaby, because more times than he was sure he was healthy, I could feel his nerves and sadness. Obviously for Yuri it was the most exasperating, because for him who faced everything with a scowl, it was difficult to face that accumulation of emotions that on bad days, almost felt like his, and the worst thing and that did not forgive him was the times he had made him cry, because Plisetsky Yuri did not cry, crying had never solved anything in his life and yet, the emotions that sometimes came to him were so overwhelming that the tears became a physical response.
But despite all this, Yuri felt a great relief because what are the chances that they will meet again? Because in fairy tales everyone could be with the person who let you see colors, but in reality, eighty percent of the population —because Yuri had researched— had no idea who it was that made him see colors, ten percent never got to see them, and ten percent, who were supposed to be the "lucky" ones, didn't always end up happy forever. And since the boy wasn't even of the same nationality, it all seemed even more impossible.
So, as more days, weeks, months and years passed, the event became even more hazy, yet Yuri would discover that no one escaped his fate.
.
.
The first time Yuuri heard of Plisetsky Yuri, was when the boy was thirteen years old.
At thirteen, Plisetsky Yuri is presented as a promise of countless victories for Russia in figure skating.
When Pitchit, his best friend, shows him a video of one of his performances, there is a tug in his belly that Yuuri assumes is admiration, especially when he watches the teenager nail a triple salchow without apparent effort.
"He's really good", Pitchit mutters almost reverently. Yuuri just nods, too busy following the boy's graceful movements.
There's something about his features that calls to Yuuri, however, the video ends and the feeling is lost. In addition, Yuuri is too concerned about his competitions that the future promise of the Russian team is in the background, it's not active competition yet and if Yuuri wants to win, he'd better focus on his current rivals.
.
.
The first time Yuri hears about Katsuki Yuuri is during the Grand Prix final. Since Victor promised her a program for her senior league debut, Yuri has become more attached to his older track buddies.
Moreover, after his resounding victory in the junior section, which is held one day apart, he has time to watch his Russian compatriot's performance.
It is as he walks through the corridors that he hears him being introduced through the loudspeakers. Yuri stops in his tracks and looks at one of the countless screens in the hall, observes the Japanese competitor and there is something, something that makes his hair stand on end and his stomach flutter. Yuri assumes it's the business of sharing a name with someone who is obviously not that good because he has already missed his second jump.
However, Yuri looks at his whole disastrous presentation. And if days later he finds himself looking for information on that other Yuri, it's only because you need to know your future rivals, especially when they have such a complicated series of steps in their programs, and if Yuri keeps some of his video presentations on his phone, who would know? Not that it's illegal to study your competition.
.
.
However, the first time they interact is a year later.
The Grand Prix final is an event that is always eagerly awaited by competitors and attendees alike.
Katsuki Yuuri, however, is far from enjoying that rush, not after such a horrible performance.
So, with his spirits low and totally frustrated with his participation, he goes to the only place that ensures him a minimum of privacy, the bathroom.
Hidden in a small cubicle, he talks to his mother, who no matter how much the time changes from one area to another, always waits for his calls after a competition, Yuuri tries to keep his emotions in check, however, soon tears cascade from his eyes through his cheeks and he rushes to cut the call off when the emotions are too much to continue pretending that everything is fine, and he is not disappointed and frustrated by his failures, it ceases to be feasible.
That's when the door to the bathroom where Yuuri locked himself in, gets slammed. He over jumps a little, while with a hoarse voice he says he is busy, however, the knocking against the door only gets louder and encouraged by curiosity, he opens the door and in front of him remains the promise of Russian skating and current junior league champion, Plisetsky Yuri.
However, when their eyes meet, for Katsuki there is someone else, someone who in the darkest moments she thought she would never see again and in the happiest days she dreamed of finding.
"Yuratchka..." The name that Yuuri made sure he memorized, springs from his lips like a prayer and suddenly his tears are for a completely different reason.
The teenager in front of him gasps like a fish out of water and blushes like a ripe tomato.
Because in front of him, before all probability that had made him think that it would be impossible, there is the boy who at the age of five made him see colors and who had promised himself never to look for them.
So, with resolution, he shows his middle finger to fate and shouts at that boy with the prettiest brown eyes he's sure he's seen, that next year he'll make his senior debut and that in the competitions there's no room for two Yuri, then he walks away, his heart pounding because only maybe, the colors seem brighter, and because, only maybe, he's had a small, insignificant crush on the Japanese skater after he saw him in that first performance.
And Yuuri, though puzzled by the attitude, there is a flutter of hope in his heart, because after almost ten years, he has finally found his green-eyed angel, now all he has to do is be patient. For Rome was not built in a day and Yuratchka was still too young, but if there was one thing Katsuki Yuuri was certain of, it was that, they would have their happily-ever-after.