"Open up, old man! I forgot the key, but don't think I won't kick your door down!"
Viktor groans and turns the volume up on the TV. It isn't that he doesn't want to talk to Yurio, but he knows of the conversation that's going to occur if he opens the door. It wouldn't be much of a conversation either. Just yelling. The type of conversation he's been dealing with since he announced his leave from the agency.
"I know you can hear me! I'll sit out here until you open up!"
Viktor rolls his eyes and turns the TV off. Getting up from the couch, he slips into his shoes and grabs his coat and scarf. With one arm through one of the sleeves, Viktor opens the door and pushes past the younger Russian. Yurio starts to say something, but Viktor effectively cuts him off.
"Let's go."
"I don't want to visit him. I told you that." There's an emotion hidden in Yurio's words that he's never heard before, one that has him pausing in front of the elevator that's down the hallway from his flat. "I don't care how much he means to you. I'm not going." The words are harsh but aren't yelled, bitterness lacing every syllable.
"We're not visiting Yuuri. Now, let's go."
Yurio lets his anger be taken over by surprise for a moment before falling away to anger again. He says nothing as he walks towards Viktor, who has pushed the down arrow button for the elevator. They wait side-by-side for the carriage to arrive, both stepping in silently when it does. Viktor leans against one side, hands resting on the metal bar along the walls after he's pressed the button for the first floor. He notes that Yurio has yet to take his eyes off of him. Usually, Viktor would crack a joke in a moment like this, but right now he can't find it in himself to make one. He needs to seriously talk with Yurio rather than make jokes and exchange insults hidden behind smiles.
When the elevator hits the first floor and the doors open, Viktor leads the way out of the apartment building and down the sidewalks of Saint Petersburg. It must've snowed last night because white covers everything. It crunches under their feet as they walk in an all-too familiar direction. They've gone here plenty of times, whether it was just to hang out with everyone or clear one's mind. It's a place that carries a new meaning for him now that he's taken Yuuri here.
The beach.
It takes a few minutes before they finally reach the sidewalk that lines the shore. Viktor glances behind himself quickly to see if Yurio is still following him, smiling when he sees that he is. He stops walking and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his beige trench coat, enjoying the view while also trying to gather his thoughts.
"Well?" Only Yurio gets straight to the point. "Why'd you drag me out here?" The bitterness is still present in his voice. Of course it is.
"I started modeling somewhere around your age. How the years have gone by..."
"I know you're old already. Cut to the chase, and tell me why you quit. You promised-"
"Yuri, I've been doing what I've been doing for maybe fourteen years. I was addicted to the crowds, the fame, and attention it gave me. When Yakov introduced me to you, I was already falling into... well, nothingness. If that makes sense. Despair, maybe? I don't know." Viktor thinks on the nights he spent drinking alone. "What I do know is that I didn't feel excited for a new job anymore. Meetings were becoming more dull than they already were."
"And your point is...?" Yurio crosses his arms over his chest as he raises an eyebrow at Viktor.
"I've been thinking about quitting for a while. When I met Yuuri, I realized that modeling was only holding me back. I want to visit places for more than three days spent on a shoot. I want to do that with Yuuri. Modeling was taking time away from me that I could've used to spend with him. That's why I made the decision I did."
"So what? You're just going to leave? What about Mila? Georgi? Your creepy friend Chris?" Blond hair falls over his eyes as he lowers his head to gaze at the ground. "Me?"
Viktor faces him when he says the last word. It sounds sad, sadder than he's ever heard Yuri sound. "You said it yourself. I was holding you back. With me out of the picture, you'll get more job offers, more-"
"That's your excuse, huh? I expected too much from you." He glances up, and Viktor's heart almost shatters. "The Viktor Nikiforov I knew is dead. Go run away with your dying playtoy already. I'm sick of seeing you." Yurio spins on his heels and starts walking away.
In long strides, Viktor catches up to him and clamps a hand down on the teen's shoulder. They stop moving, stuck in place while the wind blows around them.
"You don't know anything."
Yurio shoves his hand away and whirls around to pin green eyes on Viktor. "At least I don't break promises. I don't have the best memory, but I don't go back on my word once I've given it. 'Sure, I'll teach you everything I know to bring you to the top.' Do you remember that?"
Viktor tries to think why they sound so familiar, but Yurio doesn't give him anymore time to figure it out.
"Of course not. You said that to me four years ago. Now here you are, throwing everything away for someone you've known for what... three months? Pathetic. I don't need you anymore. No one does. Just leave already." Yurio walks away, and Viktor doesn't try stop him this time.
He knows he should at least try to, but he also knows how pointless that would be. Instead he looks back over at the water, replaying the words in his head like a mantra.
"The Viktor Nikiforov I knew is dead... That says just how little you really know me, Yuri." Viktor says the words out loud to no one in particular, letting them hang on the ocean breeze.
He turns back to see that Yurio's figure is gone.
.
. . .
.
"I'm here for someone named Yuuri." Yurio leans against the counter, frustration lining his expression. The receptionist eyes him for a moment before hesitantly typing into the computer in front of her.
"How old are you?" She raises a questioning eyebrow his way as he rolls his eyes.
"I'm Viktor Nikiforov's cousin. Viktor sent me here to give him something." It disgusts him that he has to use that traitor's name, but if it gets him already then who cares.
The receptionist glances at him again before turning back to the computer. She asks him a couple of basic questions and then sends him to the waiting room. In a minute, a doctor ushers for Yurio to follow him. He's led through twists, turns, and suddenly swinging double doors. He's brought back through more corridors and finally a larger room with one window covering the wall to his right. The doctor leaves right after leading him there, which kind of annoys him. He glances around the room for a moment and then looks through the window. He's surprised to see the room beyond the window as a regular hospital room, only with more equipment scattered around. Then he sees the person sitting up on the bed, gazing back at him with bright brown eyes. They probably only look bright because of how sickly pale he is. Yurio would ask him if he's alright if he wasn't already in a hospital.
"Hello?" The voice is quiet and hardly makes it to Yurio's ears.
"You're Yuuri? You don't look like the photos." Viktor has shown him enough for him to know that he's in the right room, only the photos he's seen show him happier and less... on his deathbed as he is.
Yuuri says nothing. Opening his mouth and then closing it, examining Yurio before recognition flashes across his face. "Yuri Plisetsky..."
"I'm surprised the old man told you my name. I didn't think he remembered it." He laughs humorlessly as he takes a seat in one of the chairs lining the left wall.
"Huh? Oh, you must mean Viktor. He's mentioned you only a few times, but my sister has almost every magazine with you in it. I mostly know you through everything she read and spoke about." For whatever reason, Yuuri smiles. Gross.
But Yurio takes in his words. He's mentioned you only a few times... It infuriates him more to hear that from the Japanese imposter. Viktor never shut up about him, but apparently Yurio wasn't important enough to mention to him. Georgi and Mila met him, but because he didn't, Viktor never talked about him. If he wasn't already mad at him, then he would be now. "Great. Just perfect." Yurio speaks through clenched teeth as he stares at his Asian counterpart. "Now that we're past names, did you hear what you made Viktor do?"
Yurio's words knock the smile off his face as he stares blankly at him through the window. "What do you mean?"
So Viktor never even told him about quitting. What an asshole. "He quit modeling. He told the CEO about it yesterday."
"He quit?!" Yuuri stumbles to sit upright in his bed, his words too loud for his scratchy throat sending him into a coughing fit. He looks so frail.
"Yeah. He said he couldn't go through the stress of dealing with you while focusing on his career apparently. He left because of you." Yurio crosses his arms and leans back in the plastic chair.
He could be wrong, but Yuuri looks like he's shaking now. "He left because of me..." Yuuri stares at the sheets on his bed with wide eyes.
"It's your fault he won't return. Tell him to change his mind. He made a promise to me, but because of you, he broke it."
"I... I'm so sorry. I didn't know."
Yurio almost feels bad because then Yuuri looks up at him with tears in his eyes, like he's about to start hyperventilating. Almost because he reminds himself that the person sitting across from him is the reason Viktor broke their promise. He's the reason why Viktor left.
"Well, now you do. Fix it." Yurio doesn't say anything else as he stands up to leave, only sparing one last look over his shoulder at the shaking patient. It's for the better, he tells himself. Whether his thoughts act as reassurance that he's not the bad guy or to prevent him from fixing what he's done, he doesn't know. He walks out of the room faster now, the sobs from Yuuri trailing behind him.
It's for the better.
.
. . .
.
His conversation with Yurio yesterday still nags in the back of his head, and it's been making him question his decision to leave. Yurio seemed so upset that he was quitting, which was the complete opposite reaction he thought he'd get.
Viktor walks through the sliding doors at the entrance of the hospital and strides up to the check-in desk, ridding his mind of the negative thoughts he's been dwelling on. Right now, he needs to be all smiles for Yuuri.
"Viktor Nikiforov checking in to see Yuuri Katsuki."
The receptionist bites her lip as she faces Viktor fully. "I'm sorry, Mr. Katsuki has asked that we keep you from seeing him."
Well, that's odd. "Are you sure? Can you send someone to ask? We planned on today's visit a few days ago. He's okay, right?" Now he's starting to worry. Maybe he's not feeling well and doesn't want to worry Viktor. But that hasn't been a concern of Yuuri's for a while... which makes this even odder.
"I can assure you that there has been no sudden decline in his health. We were given these instructions last night. I'm very sorry, Mr. Nikiforov. I must ask you to leave." She turns back to her computer without another word.
"Alright. Thank you. I understand." Only he doesn't.
Viktor pushes away from the counter and pulls out his phone, determined to figure out what's happening. He starts pacing in the waiting room as he dials Yuuri's phone number. Someone had to have said that for Yuuri. He can't find any logic that Yuuri would push him away of all people. Something's wrong.
Yuuri doesn't pick up until after the third attempt to call him. "Yuuri! Are you alright? They won't let me in to see you, but I'm pretty sure it's a mistake. Can you tell them-"
"Viktor."
"It's a mistake, right?" It has to be. Yuuri wouldn't...
"I-I'm sorry, Viktor. I'm so so sorry."
Yuuri's crying. Why is Yuuri crying? Nothing's making sense. "Yuuri, please don't cry. Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to apologize for."
"I-I told them not to let you in. I'm s-so sorry!" Yuuri is hiccuping and coughing on the other end, and Viktor so badly wants to cradle him in his arms and tell him everything is okay.
"Yuuri, calm down. Deep breaths. In and out. Why did you tell them to do that? You don't have to apologize. I just want to know." Viktor is trying to be calm himself, but he's hardly keeping it together. He knows that Yuuri is a mess right now, but he can't figure out why. They left on such a happy note the last time he visited, and they've been texting every day since. What went wrong? What happened?
"V-Viktor, I love you."
"Yuuri, I love you too. What's going on? I don't understand-"
"I l-love you, Viktor. That's why... T-That's why I told them to keep you out. Viktor, let's end this. P-Please."
Things weren't making sense before, and it's no better now. "What are you talking about, Yuuri? Have I done something wrong? Is it about your treatments? Yuuri, we can-"
"Viktor, no. I-I'm... I'm going home. They're sending me back to Japan. I agreed. The plans are official. We need to... to e-end this... us..." Viktor can hear Yuuri's voice break on the last part, just like how he can hear his own heart snap along with it.
"Yuuri, I can just fly down. It isn't that long of a flight. I can rent us a place. We can live together. I could even just visit now and again. Everything will be fine. We can make this work."
"No, we can't. I..." Yuuri takes a long pause before he speaks again. "I'm tired of us having to take all these precautions. You have a job here, too. We're... through. We're done, Viktor. Thank you so much for all the time you've given me." No, no, no. This can't possibly be happening right now. Is he dreaming? He must be, and this is just one terrible nightmare. "You don't have to worry about my treatments either. My parents are taking over everything again. I shouldn't have burdened you with all of that, but thank you so much. Goodbye, Viktor."
"No wait, Yuuri! Please don't hang up. Please don't let this be it. Please. Please." Viktor's sure he looks like a disaster. He can feel the hot trail of tears down his cheeks.
Yuuri has gone silent, almost like he's waiting for Viktor to object to all of us, and then they can go back to being happy together. Until Yuuri speaks. "I'm so sorry." And then he hangs up.
Viktor doesn't move, hardly even breathes as the click of the call being ended rings in his ears. Then the sobs start. Slow and uneven until they break and become gasps for air as Viktor sinks to his knees. His phone clatters to the ground as he grounds the palms of his fists into his shut eyes. The pain hurts. Everything hurts, and there's nothing he can do to stop it. His heart aches, and he just wants it to stop.
He doesn't know how long he sits there sobbing, but it's long enough for a nurse to come over and ask if he's okay. How does he even begin to answer her? So he doesn't. Instead, he wipes the tears off his face, or at least tries to but ends up smudging them across his cheeks, picks his phone up and throws it in his pocket, and stands up, making his way to the exit. He feels like he's been put on autopilot as he walks out of the hospital. Once Viktor gets to his car, he collapses on the ground against the driver's door. He can feel the snow seeping through his pants, but he can't find it in himself to care. Because Yuuri is leaving. Yuuri doesn't want to see him anymore. This is it.
Viktor curls his knees into his chest and wraps his arms around them, tucking his head into his knees. Everything hurts so much. It all just one awful nightmare. He'll wake up, and Yuuri will send him a good morning text along with one of those cute emoticons he loves using. They'll talk for hours on end, even as he's being tested. They'll make plans for Viktor to visit him. Viktor can plan out another day where he sneaks Yuuri out of the hospital. Everything will be exactly the same. Nothing will have changed.
Only the cold reality of what's happening feels too much for just a nightmare. Saying he's lost is an understatement. Viktor feels like there's nothing left. His heart is torn in pieces. Yuuri is leaving. Yuuri is leaving.
Yuuri is leaving.
Just when he thought everything was perfect, this happened. Viktor isn't even entirely sure what this is, nor does he want to know what it is. Thinking about what Yuuri said to him has his mind reeling.
He'll never get to see Yuuri's smile, hear Yuuri's laugh, hold Yuuri's hands, watch Yuuri sleep peacefully after a round of tests, or simply see Yuuri.
That was the last time he'll ever hear Yuuri's voice.
That's it.
Before Viktor can completely lose himself, he knows he has to get away from the hospital. Maybe Yuuri just needs a little space to figure things out. Maybe he'll text Viktor later saying that everything's okay, and that he didn't mean anything he said. It's false hope, but it's what he decides to cling to. Because it's all he has left. Fumbling through his pockets he finally finds the keys to his car and somehow manages to open the door, throwing himself inside. He shuts the door and turns the car on, putting the heat on as he does.
He doesn't want to go home. If he goes back to his flat, he'll do something stupid on his own. Irrational. Not the best choice. He could go to Georgi since he has the most experience with heartbreak, but he doesn't really feel like hanging on to the sinking feeling in his chest. Yurio is still mad at him. Yakov doesn't want to see him. Mila would only be too worried. But Chris... Chris would be good.
Viktor throws the car into reverse and drives as fast as he can to Chris's temporary apartment. He's supposed to be leaving for Switzerland soon, so he's probably packing. He won't mind spending a night out drinking, especially with Viktor of all people. Drinking would be good. Or would it just make everything worse? He can't find it in himself to care. He needs to drown everything, push the day's events from his mind as far away as possible. Chris can help.
In no time at all, he pulls up to Chris's apartment and rings for him at the door. Viktor can hear him clammering down the stairs as he answers the door.
"Vitya, what happened to you?" Chris's expression says everything. Viktor looks like a disaster. "What bus hit you on the way here?"
"Chris, let's go out for drinks. Now."
Chris raises an eyebrow but holds a finger up. "Let me grab a coat and my keys. I don't know what happened, but I don't want you driving like that." He motions at Viktor's appearance before scuttling off to get the mentioned items.
When he gets back, he leads the way to his car and hops in the driver's side as Viktor slides into the passenger seat. They don't say anything until they get to a crowded bar. It's one of their regular spots, and Viktor finds himself welcoming the familiarity like fresh air as they sit down at the bar counter. He barely listens as Chris prattles off drink orders for them. Once there's a drink in their hands and Viktor knocks it back in one go, Chris then decides to question the sudden trip out.
"So what happened?" He takes a sip of his drink, eyeing Viktor suspiciously as he orders another drink for himself.
Humorlessly, Viktor laughs and accepts the next drink the bartender puts in front of him. "I guess I look that bad, huh?"
"You're already on your second drink, and we just walked in. I'm a little curious." Chris leans his right arm against the solid wood of the bar as he takes a sip of his drink from his left.
"I don't want to talk about it just yet."
"Either sober Viktor will tell me or drunk Viktor will. One is more dramatic than the other, so if you want me to stop you then you should tell me now."
Viktor sighs and tries to slow down how fast he's drinking. "He's leaving. He's decided to go back to Japan, and crushing my heart was on his to-do list before he left." Viktor gives up on his idea to slow down and instead knocks his drink back like the first one: fast and relentlessly.
"So he doesn't like long-distance relationships?"
"I don't think it's that simple. I don't know... He sounded miserable when he told me. It didn't seem like he wanted to, but more like he had to. Does that make any sense?" Viktor waves for the bartender, but Chris shoots down the idea.
"Viktor, maybe he just wants to be with his family before he... you know... leaves for good."
"I thought about that, too, but I offered to move down there. I said I could even just visit if he doesn't want me there twenty-four seven. Chris, he told me no. He said we were over. He completely cut me off. I don't know what to do." Viktor leans both elbows against the bar and runs his hands through his hair. "What should I have said differently?"
"I don't think you could've said anything differently. Vitya, do you think that maybe he doesn't want to hurt you when his time comes? That could very well be it." Chris looks at him pointedly before taking another sip of his drink.
"I told him I wanted to be there for him no matter what, though. Where did I go wrong, Chris?"
Chris orders another drink for Viktor before taking in the disheveled Russian. "You should talk to him face-to-face. If you think none of that is the reason why, then push your way through to talk to him before he leaves. Do you even know when that'll be?"
Viktor pulls his right hand from his hair and traces his index finger along the rim of the new glass he's given. "He didn't say. I don't think he would've told me either if I asked."
"Don't drink a lot tonight then, and go see him first thing in the morning. I can't help you if he's already gone, but if he's still there, then you have a chance to fix this." Chris sets aside his now empty glass and turns on the stool to face Viktor straight on.
"Are you sure? What if he pushes me away again?" Viktor eyes his drink before directing his gaze to Chris.
"Then at least you can say you tried. If you love him as much as you keep telling me, then you should try." Chris shrugs and leans back against the bar.
"I knew coming to you would be a good idea." Viktor smiles halfheartedly and glances down at the empty glass again. He'll try to do that, to talk to Yuuri. It's his last option. His only option left.
.
. . .
.
Viktor wakes up in an unknown place, his sleep-muddled mind taking far longer than it should to recognize Chris's place. His back aches as he sits up on the couch he apparently crashed on last night. As he stretches out his limbs, Chris walks in with nothing but a bathrobe on and two cups of coffee in hand.
"I didn't think you'd wake up for another day. Glad to see you're up, though. Rise and shine. You've got a busy day ahead." Chris hands him a cup, and Viktor blearily accepts it.
"Right." He has to talk to Yuuri. That's the plan anyway. If he's there, then he'll clear everything up. There's no way Yuuri really wants to leave, and if he did, then why didn't he just ask Viktor to come with him. That would make more sense than telling him to leave.
"I'm going to drop you off at your place, so you can fix yourself. Yuuri isn't going to say yes if you look or smell like that."
At the insult, Viktor lifts the collar of his rumpled dress shirt to his nose, Chris's accusation proven correct. "Sounds like a plan."
They hang out for a bit, lounging around before Chris decides they should get going. They drive to Viktor's flat, Chris dropping him off with a promise to pick him up in fifteen. Viktor hurries through the lobby and to the elevator that leads to his flat, finding himself more jittery than usual. The cold shower wakes him up fully, and he styles his hair appropriately after. Draping a towel around his shoulders, he opens his closet to dozens of different colored suits all dazzling on their own. Viktor picks out a simple black and white ensemble, dressing as quickly as possible when he realizes what little time he has with a glance at his watch.
Viktor's down in the lobby in just a little over fifteen and seated in Chris's car in twenty. Chris drives off without another word.
The trip to the hospital has him on edge. Either Yuuri is there and will tell him to stay, or Yuuri is gone already and really doesn't want to see Viktor anymore. He can't imagine that the latter will happen, but he can't rule it out. He doesn't say anything to the receptionist, but instead lets Chris distract her so he can slip away. Viktor follows the corridors down to the room he knows so well, the room that holds all of his favorite memories. Through the doors and to the window displaying his room.
There's no one there. The room Yuuri used to occupy is vacant, save for the little reminders that he existed. Viktor holds a hand up to the glass and stares at the blue roses left on the table next to what used to be Yuuri's bed. It's overwhelming to see just how bare the room is now. A nurse walks through, probably having followed him as soon as she saw him enter the room.
"When did he..."
"Last night." The nurse is standing by the door wearing a pitying look towards the Russian.
Last night. Yuuri left last night as Viktor was contemplating how to make him stay. While he was out with Chris, Yuuri was being transported back to Japan. He's gone, and Viktor can't do anything to get him back.
Viktor walks back the way he came and pushes open the door to the room. He's reminded of the day when he first snuck Yuuri out of the hospital. That was the only other time he entered that very room himself. Viktor sucks in a breath as he takes hesitant steps further into the space. Pale fingers trail the side of the neatly made bed as he makes his way to the bedside table. He picks up one of the dozen roses, twirling it around in his fingers. A flicker of white in the corner of his eye draws his attention to the table. There, a piece of paper is tucked under the vase the roses are held in. Viktor puts the rose down on the pillow and carefully lifts the vase up to release the slip of paper. With shaking fingers, he plucks the paper up from the table eyeing the script on it.
It's Yuuri's handwriting, script he's very familiar with. Written in that script is Viktor's name scrawled on the top of the paper. The paper is bent and crinkling in odd places, most likely due to tears. He blinks back his own that are threatening to fall and slowly unfolds the paper. In the letter are two small words. Don't forget. As if he ever could, but he knows the real meaning behind the words. Viktor tucks the note in his pocket and picks up the rose once more, making his way to the exit.
"I never will, Yuuri."
Viktor walks back out to the waiting room and motions for Chris to follow. He can feel Chris's eyes on him, on the way his shoulders bend inwards and the tears that stay in the corners of his eyes.
"That was short."
"He wasn't there. He left exactly like he said he would." Viktor stops walking as he reaches the entrance, gazing down at the flower still in his hands. The sun glints off the petals, turning its blue into a lighter hue.
"I'm sorry, Viktor."
"You have nothing to be sorry for." Viktor resumes walking, almost running out of the hospital.
.
. . .
.
Yurio sits back in the chair he's confined in, switching his position almost every second. Morning meetings are boring beyond belief, and the empty seat across from him annoys him more than he would like. Otabek, the only true confidant he has, sends him a knowing look from across the table. Otabek is sitting next to the empty seat, much to Yurio's dismay. The Crispino twins on either side of himself are ready to snap. Yakov proposed that they work on different projects again due to a client's orders, but the brother isn't happy about it. Go figure. Yurio found out quickly just how much of a nuisance he is. All Michele does is glare at everyone, and it's starting to get on Yurio's nerves. But Otabek keeps him quiet with just a look.
They do this often, exchanging looks to the other. When Otabek first came on to work under Yakov, Yurio didn't know what to think of him. A shoot in Barcelona with the older teen changed that when Otabek asked him to be friends. Now, they're able to send eyerolls and smirks from across the room, and know exactly what the other means by them. It makes the miserable meetings just a little more tolerable.
A knock on the door has everyone, including Yurio, turning towards the sound. Only Yurio knows who's on the other side. He smirks and Otabek raises an eyebrow at him. He'll find out soon enough, Yurio thinks smugly.
Yakov huffs, clearly annoyed with the interruption. "Come in."
Exactly who he thought it was comes into the room. Yurio's smug grin diminishes when he sees him, though. He was right, but something's wrong.
"Hi." Viktor opens the door with a fake smile plastered on his face. It's the same one he stupidly puts on in front of the camera and paparazzi. The same one that makes him sick.
"What the hell are you doing here? Everyone get out." Yakov doesn't take his eyes off the nuisance that is Viktor Nikiforov as everyone starts to filter out of the room.
Yurio gratefully stands up, and Otabek follows not too far behind. Yurio hangs out outside the office, leaning against the wall. He wants to talk to Viktor, not that he cares why he looks like a mess or anything. Just to tell him that he was right. It's weird seeing him back here because that means Yuuri did exactly what he told him. Viktor is back to tell Yakov that he wants to return. It sends chills down his spine to know that he got what he wanted.
"What's up?" Otabek has his arms crossed as he leans up against the wall next to Yurio. He's always able to tell when something is wrong with him.
"Kinda creeped out." Yurio doesn't look up at him, but he knows that Otabek is staring.
"Why?"
"I told his weirdo boyfriend to tell him to come back since he stupidly decided to leave." Yurio sighs as he thinks back to the conversation in the hospital. Well, less of a conversation and more of just Yurio hurling accusations at him.
"You did what?" Otabek sounds surprised.
Yurio scoffs in response. "I paid him a visit and told him that it was his fault Viktor left. He caved and must've told him to come back."
Viktor walks out of the room then, still wearing that dumb smile. "Well... I'm on temporary leave, but I'm back otherwise." He's a mess straight up. Yurio can see the bags under his eyes the closer he steps towards him. His platinum hair sticking out in different directions like he hadn't bothered to fix it after waking up. His shirt is a wrinkled mess. It's a shell of the man Viktor once was.
"The fuck happened to you?" Instead of a real answer, Viktor stoops down and hugs Yurio tightly, his head leaning against his shoulder. "Oi, get off of me! You know I don't like my personal being intruded!"
"He's gone, Yurio. Yuuri left for Japan, and he told me he doesn't want to see me anymore."
The hug grows tighter with every word, but it's not that that has Yurio gasping for breath. It's the guilt washing over him in tidal waves. Yuuri left because of what he said. Holy shit, it's his fault that Yuuri left. Yuuri actually left, though. He didn't tell him to do that. Why the hell did he leave? Was he really too harsh on him? What the heck is happening?
"What?" The word comes out as choked as he feels. He looks up at Otabek, who looks concerned. Probably mirroring Yurio's own expression.
"He called me saying that he didn't want to see me. That we're... through. He left that night for Japan... He doesn't want me to follow, so I won't." His shoulder is becoming wet from Viktor's tears. "It's funny. They say talking things over will help, but why do I only feel worse? He's gone, Yuri."
"You're kidding, right?" Fuck. He's done it now.
Viktor releases him and goes to leave. "Sorry. I didn't mean to burden you with my problems." He leaves it at that and walks down the hallway out of sight.
"Fuck... Please tell me this isn't my fault." Yurio silently begs as he watches Viktor stumble away.
"You told me not to lie to you. That would be a lie. You told him to leave?"
"No!" Yurio groans and hits the back of his head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. "I didn't tell him to leave, just to tell Viktor to get back to work like he should."
"Well, you must've said something to him that made him leave overnight." Otabek moves his eyes from Yurio to the door in front of them, not looking at anything in particular.
"I didn't say anything that severe! I mean I might've, but I didn't tell him to leave! What am I going to do?" He groans again, frustrated and angry at the new development. What is he supposed to do? Fly all the- "I have an idea, and you're helping."
"Hm?" Otabek blinks down at green eyes filled with determination. "And that idea is...?"
"We're flying to Japan. Are you in or are you out?"
Otabek thinks about the offer for a moment before the corners of his lips turn up in what Yurio knows to be a smile. "I'm in."
"Great. Let's get going then. I don't want to deal with Viktor's whining and complaining once it starts." Yurio tugs on Otabek's leather jacket, practically dragging him down the hallway. "We've got a flight to catch."