It's exhilarating, the feel of air running through Yuuri's hair as he glides across the ice.
He was right in thinking that his younger body would be faster - it takes him only three crossovers before he's on the other side of the rink. He's barely out of breath with the speed coming into and out of his spins, and already his brain is running through new ideas for spin variations he could accomplish.
But adding it all together - the one glaring issue was his stamina. He was able to do isolated elements, he could do different types of spins and step sequences perfectly, but when he tried to combine them all together into a program, Yuuri found himself becoming extremely winded by the middle.
This was where Minako came in - he ends up spending more time at her studio than he ever has, utilising her teachings and applying it to the rink. His spins and skating skills flow beautifully, only enhanced by his new focused training in ballet. There's also the added benefits of his core strength increasing, all coming together to support Yuuri as he does his routines on the ice. He finds his body naturally taking to the air once he just stops and doesn't think about it.
Finding his body capable of the foundational parts of skating, Yuuri turns to focus on how to enhance his skating elements. It's a particularly gruelling training session, one with only Yuuko there to support him. Without a coach to point out his flaws, Yuuri makes sure that she's there recording every jump attempt he tries. He attempts different entries into the triple axel, aided only by the memories he has of his future self.
The triple axel, with its three and a half rotations, was essentially a quadruple jump without the name. The transition into the element was always ;long-winded, used in order to allow time for the skater to switch from the back foot to the leading foot and use that momentum to propel their bodies into the air.
So, it's noteworthy when a skater does do a transitional move within a jump entry. If a skater does a counter-turn in the midst of a load up to a quad jump, the grades of execution would skyrocket . Why wouldn't the same apply to the axel?
Viktor himself only added transitional elements to his jump entries on anything that wasn't an axel, leaving the triple with a prolonged transition space to ensure a good landing. He always made up those extra points with the other jumps. There was no need to go crazy with transitions when his base value was already higher than the rest of the competition. It was a calculated move, but one that worked.
Minimum effort, maximum reward. That was Yakov, and by extension Viktor's, coaching moto.
But that wasn't Yuuri's style .
Adding to the transitions leading up to jumps was inviting you to fuck up the jump elements. You wouldn't have the time to properly set up your jump's axis because you've just entered into it with twizzle spins. You'd have to think of every turn, every move. It would make the axis of the jump harder to control, plus when factoring in speed, the added level of difficulty would leave more room for error. Ultimately, it wouldn't be worth the deduction for the falls.
If landed correctly however, it would change the whole routine.
Figure skating is a point-based sport, but it was also subjective and performative . Every single 1/8 of a mark counted. And if Yuuri could add these transitional elements in between his jumps, his competitive programs would become performances. It would influence the audience and the judges, whilst bolstering his technical points and performance scores.
For most, adding transitional elements into their loading time for the triple axel would've been suicidal. But for Yuuri, the prolonged time between the jumps would seed doubt in his mind, and when the time came for him to jump, fear would ruin him.
It was Yakov who figured it out, with all of his years of experience as a coach, he had noticed that there was no issue with Yuuri's skills but his mindset.
Yuuri had tended to view jumps as isolated elements of his program, rather than an integrated part of the performance. No-one had noticed it because Viktor's choreography for both Eros and Yuri on Ice already implemented some of these transitional elements already. Yakov had pulled Viktor aside, and together, they had changed the layout of Yuuri's performances.
In a strange turn of events, by adding what for any skater would be ridiculously hard elements, such as transitional steps between Yuuri's jumping patterns, his success rates for jumps increased by over 90%.
(" See, kid." Yakov's voice was gruff, but there was a glint in his eyes as he smugly turned towards Viktor. "You've still got a lot to learn about coaching."
Yura had glowered, eyes turning into slits as anger rolled off him in waves. "Why am I not surprised that the only way to make jumps easier for Katsudon is to make them harder . That doesn't mean he'll defend his world title. YAKOV! Teach me how to do a back counter into an axel! NOW!" )
It was just an added bonus that the GOE increased. Soon, it would become a signature part of Yuuri's skating technique, with spectators and critics alike in awe of his pieces. Suddenly, a skater who was known for his artistic but lacking technical ability, was renowned as an all-round skater who could do both.
His programs were defined by their flow in between every jump, with virtually no set-up. Every stroke on the ice was intentional. He was renowned for it - he mixed artistry, spins and steps with the technical advancements of quadruple jumps. He made every single one of his jumps integrated within the performance.
Most skaters would use huge crossovers in order to prepare for the quadruple jumps, ones that were definitely needed in order to land them, but because of this, programs became a waiting game for when the next jump would happen - they weren't performances .
At a time when questions were raised about the artistry of figure skating and the overreliance of quadruple jumps as a one-way ticket for medals, Yuuri Katsuki was a shining anomaly, the sole skater who merged the two aspects of the sports together perfectly. And so, he spends the next two weeks trying to become that person again.
Because that was the Yuuri of another world. Things are different now. He is not an Olympic champion, he has not won multiple world titles. This Yuuri is a seventeen-year old has-been junior skater.
He won't need quads - in fact, junior skaters were actively prevented from doing them, even when Yura was a junior. Their bodies were not mature enough yet. Of course, Viktor was a prodigy, landing his first quadruple jump when he was sixteen- and even then, it was against the wishes of both the federation and Yakov. Yura threw a wrench into things further, landing the salchow at age fourteen. But they had a party of the best figure skating trainers and facilities that money could buy.
Yuuri was alone, wholly unsupervised within the palace walls of Ice Castle.
He still remembers the horror of discovering Yura one night at Sports Champion, attempting the quad axel after seeing Yuuri land it in practice. Alone .
The screaming match that resulted between the two ended in Yuuri refusing to talk to the young skater for over a week. It had been a tense time at the rink, with Yakov taking Yuuri's side once he found out what had happened. It had only ended when Yura had promised to only train for the jump with supervision.
Quads meant a greater risk of injury. When a skater throws their body into a jump, they land with four-to-five times their bodyweight , cushioned only by a single, two-cm thick blade. It was why technique was so important. Figure skating is one of the riskiest and injury-prone sports in the world.
And now, Yuuri's muscles are unrefined. His famed stamina is a thing of the past (or is it future?), barely keeping up with the new step sequences he's created. It would be dangerous to try to add a quadruple jump. And an injury is something Yuuri can't risk.
If his memory serves him right, Christophe would land a quadruple toe this season during the GP Finals, edging out Cao Bin for silver. If things progressed the same as it did before, this would be the moment that Viktor would take notice of Christophe as something other than a the new kid on the block, he would become a competitor . And that was essentially a calling-card that you were on the track to greatness. Their resulting friendship was inevitable.
But even with a quad in his arsenal, Christophe was only a few points off from Cao Bin, who didn't even have one. Besides, Chris had yet to gain consistency with the jump. So was it even worth trying to develop a quad, when the guy who's close to beating you does it with triples?
Right now, artistry is what scores. So that's what Yuuri will focus on. It's not unheard of for a seventeen year old to do quads, but it's not necessary, not at this moment in time. There is no good in becoming overzealous.
First and foremost, Yuuri needs to ensure his body is perfectly moulded with the needs of his sport. He had never done quad jumps before Celestino, so trying them now when his body isn't prepared and without a proper coaching staff is just asking the universe to give him an injury. And his track record with the universe isn't great.
Whilst the increased speed coming into and out of his program's elements is a good sign, it also highlights the lack of control he has. If there was one thing Viktor had beaten into his body, it was that there was no use in power if there was no control. So Yuuri stops himself from doing crazy jumps, and instead turns to build up his foundations.
If he perfects each element within his programs to maximise the GOE, every mili-point would count. It would be enough to bring him to center stage, closer to Viktor.
He has the spread eagle entry perfect, but that's an easier entry compared to the ones Yuuri was use to doing in his future. His favourite, the twizzle entries and the back-counter entry on the forward edge, were still so far away from him even thinking of completing them consistently.
They leave no room to think, let alone giving him enough power to actually throw himself into the triple axel. It's essentially jumping from a standstill. To do that, he needs to build his body up from the ground. He needs his thighs to be able propel him into the air from what is essentially a standstill.
He needs more strength, more endurance. He needs to be more.
Yuuri slams his hand on the ice, body aching after another failed attempt at a back-counter entry into his axel.
"Yuuri!" Nishigori shouts out, both him and Yuuko watching with concerned eyes.
They're waiting by the side of the rink, beside themselves with worry. Takeshi is frowning, before bending down to whisper in Yuuko's ear. She nods in response, and he turns to leave. Yuuri sighs heavily, standing up from the rink's floor and moves to meet Yuuko by the stands. She holds out a bottle of water to him, worried.
"I've never seen a person do a back-counter into a triple axel. Yuuri, it's stupidly difficult. I don't even think it's possible."
"You're starting to sound like Nishigori."
"That's an insult when it comes from you."
"But why not, Yuuko?" He vaguely recognises that he sounds like a perpetuant child.
"Wha- Why not?! Where did this idea even come from? You don't have a proper coach to teach you-"
"But it'll be so cool ! Why isn't that a good enough reason to try?"
Yuuko becomes quiet. She recognises that look on Yuuri's face, the one where he digs his heels into the floor and refuses to budge. But there's something different this time - his eyes are alight, and despite the obvious pain he's in from landing on his ass for the majority of the training session, his cheeks are flushed pink. This was it - the spark that Yuuri had lost after so many defeats, so many hours on the ice with no results.
Once again, Yuuko is reminded that out of everyone she knows at the rink, it is Yuuri who loves skating in its most purest form.
Wanting to at least make him hear her worries at least once, she opens her mouth but decides against it. Yuuri had changed his entire long program, had created a new short program within a day and already polished both of them.
At first, both Minako and her had screamed at Yuuri for even thinking of changing the composition of his programs when the finals was a month away. But after watching him practice the new choreographic steps, both of them knew there was no way he could go back to the old routines.
It irked Yuuko to admit defeat, but she knew that the idea of making the loading times in-between jumps resemble step sequences instead would somehow pay off. Yuuri just needed to actually land the jumps for it to work out.
She sighs, changing the subject. "You said that you're working on finding an object before competition to focus on. So your stage fright won't become overwhelming, right?"
"Yeah, like a specific seat in the audience or the exit sign."
"Well, here."
Yuuri flounders as his vision becomes obscured. Something soft hits his face, and he catches it in his hands before it falls to the ice. His heart skips at the sight.
It's a cute little poodle plushie, covered in brown fur and unmistakably modeled after Vicchan. She scratches the back of her neck at Yuuri's sudden silence, before shaking her hands rapidly and starting to ramble word-vomit.
"Takeshi ordered it for you, but he's too emotionally stunted to actually show how much he cares about you, so here I am giving it to you instead. Minako can just hold it by the rinkside before you skate and you-."
She cuts herself off, taking a huge swallow of air. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and she bites her lip in embarrassment. "You can think of Ice Castle when you see it. It'll help condition you into thinking you're home and not in front of an audience or judges. We'll always be in the wings supporting you that way."
Yuuri's eyes sting a little, and he rubs his face harshly to stop him from tearing up. "Thank you." He whispers, holding the plushie to his face.
That's right, there's no need for Yuuri to be nervous if he falls on a jump. Even if he does fall, Hasetsu will be a safety net, always there to catch him.
Wiping his numbed, sniffling nose, he smiles up at Yuuko with small tears catching on his eyelashes. "Tell Takeshi to stop being a pussy and give it to me himself."
Hasetsu Higashi Senior High,
Hasetsu, Japan
" Ne , Abe-kun. Isn't he coming back today?" There is a small crowd surrounding Abe's seat at the back of the classroom. Abe himself, however, is barely paying attention to Honda's question, eyes trained on his game console.
"Ow! Why did you hit me? I've lost the level now." He angrily glares at the girl, rubbing his shoulder to alleviate the pain. For some strange reason today, every single student was here early, sitting in their seats a full twenty minutes before class even started.
This was Abe's alone time, time to defeat the next Boss, time to strategize new game plans. And it's being interrupted by these low-lives.
Honda's face stretches into a soft, pretty smile as she pats the boy's shoulder, repeatedly. "Answer the fucking question, or I'll break your console, and you, into pieces."
Abe gulps, placing his game on the desk and leaning back on his chair.
"What do you want?"
"Your seatmate. Katsuki-san."
"Who?" Abe rolls his eyes at the sound of indignation that ripples through the class. One of the boys next to Honda-san, Yamamoto-kun, Abe realises when he looks closer, gasps in outrage, grabbing onto the edge of Abe's desk so harshly he can see the indents of fingernails in the wood.
"A travesty. A fucking travesty!" He cries loudly. "He doesn't deserve to sit next to Katsuki-san!"
"Well, he can switch with me then!" Hana-chan pipes up from the front, stepping out of her seat and turning towards Abe. Suddenly, there's an uproar of people trying to sit in Abe's seat. He scowls, crossing his legs and slamming his feet into the ground.
"I'm not giving up my seat." It's a fucking great seat, next to the window and behind Maezono, who's six-foot tall body completely obscures him from Fujiwara-sensei and thus, allows him to continue on his quest to save his beloved Ingrid from the demon-hands of Azazel.
He was so thankful for the seat, until he showed up three days after the entrance day, three days late because he was competing at a fucking World championship.
There's a sudden squealing and Sakamoto jumps up from his seat at the front of the class, hands pressed against the window looking like a whale. "He's here!" He screams and there's a clamour as the whole classroom rises like predators and descends onto the window.
That's who he sits next to.
Katsuki Yuuri. His seatmate, Hasetsu's pride and joy, Japan's Junior Ace.
"You don't think he was badly injured, right?"
"What if he can't compete-"
"We just need to be conscious of his injury, if we disturb him, he might feel worse!"
The gaggle of voices begin to hurt Abe's head. He grabs his headphones, drowning out the class as he begins a new level. At least they've stopped talking to him now.
"He can't be that injured if he's cycling to school, right?"
"He's cycling?!"
"Yes! Sakura-chan posted it in her story, don't get me started on the way those things looked!"
Curiosity has always been Abe's weakness, and so he turns to look over his left shoulder out of the window, eyes trailing over the nimble figure walking through the courtyard.
Katsuki-san has a huge gym bag thrown over his shoulder, but he seems to lug it around as easily as if he was carrying air. He's walking alongside his bike, hands curled around the handlebar to guide it towards the shed.
Abe berates himself. He's like everyone else, gawking at the mythical figure of Katsuki. From his viewpoint, he can see the way Katsuki stretches his arms behind him- and god, it shouldn't be fair to be that flexible. Katsuki swipes a hand through his hair, and it slicks back, exposing his creamy-white, free of imperfections, forehead. Abe seethes.
What's so good about Katsuki, anyway? He grumbles to himself, tapping a bit too harshly on his console buttons. He never talks to a single person, but everyone is foaming at the mouth to be graced by his stupid prescence. Miwa-chan still hasn't gotten over the one time she'd bumped into him, and Katsuki had apologised instead. It gave her a sudden influx of brownie points suddenly in popularity rankings. She gushes about it all the time.
Katsuki is someone who thinks he's above everyone else. He doesn't speak to anyone below his station, only ever hanging around the school's goddess Yuuko-senpai and her fucking guard dog, Nishigori. The three were royalty at Hasetsu Higashi, the wonder trio that hailed from their court of the Ice Castle. But even then, Katsuki was a breed of his own.
Whilst Yuuko-senpai and Nishigori-san had some infamy within Hasetsu, winning prefectural competitions here and there, it was Katsuki that went on to be a riot. He was on the fucking TV most nights, the biggest athlete out of Kyushu in decades meant that NHK KYUSHU always had a segment running about their reining National Junior Champion and his exploits in the international field representing Japan.
Because that's the level Katsuki is on. He's so far ahead of everyone else in the year group that people drool at the chance to breathe the same air as him. He'll probably compete at the Olympics in a few years.
Katsuki is a legend in the making, and it's a hard pill to swallow when you're sitting right next to him. He makes you feel inferior, so this is Abe's only respite, the one thing he holds control over within the school. If he acts indifferent, it doesn't mean anything.
So, Abe rages in jealousy and turns back to defending his castle from invasion. It's quarter to eight, so he focuses his last fifteen minutes to complete this fucking level rather than think about Katsuki. It should be easy, but at the pinnacle moment of the game, the be-all-end-all moment of his battle, Katsuki walks straight in through the door and Abe is thrown through a loop.
He walks in with the same pin-straight ballet posture he always has, much too elegant and refined for a high school student, let alone someone from the backwaters of Hasetsu. There is nothing of the country bumpkin that Abe and the rest of his classmates drown in - he looks otherworldly, like a city boy from Tokyo or a millionaire's son. He might as well be, with all the travelling he does for his competitions.
Katsuki blinks owlishly, huge brown eyes widening at the sight of the entire class here early. His cheeks turn a gorgeous pink, dusting across his pale cheeks like rose petals or some other poetic shit that Yamaguchi-sensei would sprout in his literature classes.
There's the usual chatter that follows when Katsuki enters, but Abe keeps his eyes locked on the screen in front of him. It's unfair that he's so fucking pretty, Abe slams his console down, burning with jealousy and, with a little introspection, want .
Yuuri can feel everyone's eyes on his back as he takes his seat at the end of the classroom. His seatmate- Abe, he vaguely remembers- was blessedly more attuned to his game than gawking at Yuuri like the rest of the class was.
He thought he was early, arriving fifteen minutes before class started to ensure that he wouldn't have to deal with exactly this - people staring at him like he's a clown act at the local circus.
Settling into his seat, Yuuri tugs nervously at the sleeves of his blazer. Maybe he's wearing his uniform wrong? There's very little you could get wrong, considering the military-styled gakuran only needed to be buttoned up.
These stares are worse than when Viktor first turned up , Yuuri thinks, scratching the back of his neck. He feels like an exhibition at a zoo - if he made any sudden movement, a hoard of predators would come and devour him. He turns his gaze pointedly towards the clock ticking above the blackboard, watching with bated breath for homeclass to start.
Yuuri had painstakingly looked through his past yearbooks, trying to remember every single one of his classmates' names and match them to their faces. But actually sitting down in class makes him jittery - he was already a social pariah, forgetting someone's name would only drown him in further embarrassment.
The door slides open and Yuuri subtly breathes out a sigh of relief. Fujiwara-sensei smiles cheerily from the front desk, and Todoroki-san - ( is it Todoroki-san, right?) - the class president stands up to start the greeting.
Everyone's voice choruses together, greeting Fujiwara-san, and Yuuri feels himself begin to relax.
His eyes fall back towards the clock - just four hours to go till lunch. He can do this.
Yuuri has the attention span of a goldfish.
Perhaps it's because he's already gone through this once before, but the monotony of high school makes him want to rip his heart out and feed it to demons, just for a change of pace.
Modern Literature wasn't too bad - Yuuri found that he picked up the literary concepts easier than before, eternally grateful for his foresight to look up the book summary last night. He tries to make diligent notes for the different lessons, keeping to himself in the intervals between each class period and trying to drown out the chatter of friends when break starts.
It's no different to how he was before. Yuuri had a pattern when attending school: Turn up, take notes, go home. The mortification that came from being perceived was enough for Yuuri to stick to himself. If he looks like the wall, he'd be treated like the wall - invisible.
Of course, that doesn't work out when Fujiwara-sensei pulls him out of class during lunch. The stares marked towards his back like arrows to a target make his ears burn with humiliation. He knew he should've had lunch outside the classroom.
They make their way towards the teacher's lounge - it was more like an office than a lounge, with cubical desks entrapping the entire space of the small room. Yuuri hasn't felt the grip of anxiety climb up his throat in a while, and he quickly hands over the make-up work he had done during his time out of school so he can leave already.
He taps his foot nervously against the floor as Fujiwara-sensei flicks through all of the papers, systematically putting them into appropriate piles. He looks over them in quiet contemplation.
"Yuuri-kun."
"Hai, sensei!" He winces at the volume of his voice, face blushing with embarrassment at how awkward he sounds.
"You've done well keeping up with the work. How's your injury?"
"Doctor gave me the all-clear. There was no issue at all, but he wanted me to rest just in case."
Fujiwara turns over the page once more, before tapping them all together neatly and placing them on his desk. "So, any chance you'll be competing at Nationals?"
"Yes." Yuuri says defiantly. "Nothing could keep me from it."
"The work is good, Yuuri-kun. Try not to overthink more than you do. I'll be rooting for you." Fujiwara looks over at him once, before standing up to pat Yuuri on the shoulder. "Go on. You've still got a good twenty minutes for lunch."
Yuuri lets out a sigh of relief, bowing deeply. "Thank you, sensei."
Fujiwara watches as Yuuri scampers away, only turning back to his desk once he sees the young boy leave.
"Sawamura!" Fujiwara throws Yuuri's work towards his coworker sitting in the cubicle across from him.
Sawamura just rolls his eyes, "What now, Fujiwara?"
"You're Yuuri's history teacher, right? Take a look at his essay."
Sawamura pulls on his glasses, squinting at the work. He stops halfway through, typing some things on his computer, before returning back to read it. It's another painstaking ten minutes of Sawamura reading Yuuri's paper.
"... Are you sure this is Yuuri-kun's work?"
"Yes. He just turned it in. Can you check it for plagiarism?"
Sawamura takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. "I did. Just now."
"Wait- so he wrote it himself?"
"Or someone else did for him. But who?"
"There's no way his sister could've, Mari could barely spell right. What about those two older kids he used to hang around? Yuuko-"
"And Nishigori. There's no way, the two of them barely passed as it was."
"... So what are you thinking, Sawamura?"
"I'm thinking…" He drops Yuuri's papers back on his desk. "I'm thinking that he had a lot of free time because he was banned from training, and so instead, he produced … this ."
"Was he always this good academically, though? I'm sure we would've noticed sooner if he was. This type of writing- it's almost college-level."
"It is college level." Sawamura gripes. "Look, he's referenced all of his citations, footnotes and all. And the language, maybe it's just history. What about his work for the other classes? You just teach him homeroom, right? Honda-san!" Sawamura calls to the woman across the room. "Has Yuuri given you his work yet?"
Honda walks towards the two, shaking her head. "Not yet, is it in the pile? Why are we talking about Yuuri-kun?"
"Because I'm tempted to give him 79/80, a mark off because he forgot to write the date at the top."
Honda gasps in wonder. "Has Yuuri-kun always been good at history? He struck me as a science-y person. Tanaka-san always laments the lost potential if he worked more on physics than skating."
"I have his work here," Fujiwara pipes up. The other faculty members slowly start to migrate towards Sawamura and him, eavesdropping on Hasetsu Higashi's star student. They each begin to take their respective pieces of work, circling Sawamura's desk as they do so.
"If they're all on the same level as the one for Sawamura-kun, then I wonder what he'd be like if he had the time dedicated to his studies."
"It's such a shame. Yuuri-kun's always been bright, but if this is the work he produces without time being eaten by training, he could do so much more!"
"You're acting like he's galavanting off somewhere to mess around. He's ranked in the top ten of international junior skaters."
"Yes, but how many junior skaters do well at seniors? He needs to think about his future-"
Sawamura clears his throat to stop the sudden influx of teacher's piping in with their two-cents about Yuuri's future. Their voices make his head ring, and he rubs his eyes to dispel the oncoming headache.
"Having high expectations of Yuuri-kun is all well and good, but these papers may be a result of the extra time Yuuri had because of his accident." Sawamura turns towards the essay in his hand. "We'll monitor him for the rest of his lessons and then we'll stage an intervention. If he doesn't keep it up, that is."
"But would Yuuri-kun want that?" says Fujiwara. "He only ever sees himself skating, and his results say everything."
"We might as well try, Fujiwara." Sawamura props up his hand and rests his head against his palm. "I'm sure it goes without saying, but we all just want what's best for Yuuri-kun. If he really can produce this kind of work when putting the effort in, we might have to have a meeting with him and his parents. It would be a waste for him not to pursue academics, especially with how injury-prone his sport is. What parent wouldn't want their child to have a back-up plan?"
"I'll keep an eye on him for now." Fujiwara purses his lips. "Let's just see how he does in the next few days."
"Ugh." Yuuri groans, falling back onto the grass outside. He has ten minutes left of lunch, and already he's dreading going back inside class. He closes his eyes, sighing as a gentle breeze flutters around him.
His phone buzzes inside his school jacket, and he groans as he pulls it out. "What?"
"That's so rude, Yuuri! If anything, I should be the one who's grumpy."
"Well, what would you want me to say? Isn't it five am in Switzerland?"
"Yuuuuri." Christophe sings. "You're supposed to ask why I'm calling."
" Okay, Chris. Why are you calling so early in the morning?"
"I'm bored." He doesn't sound it, voice lilting in amusement. " I'm waiting for the bus."
Yuuri sits up at that, crossing his legs and gripping the phone tighter. "Training?"
"Yeah. My car broke down, so I'm relegated to public transport." He sighs heavily over the phone. "It's the bane of my existence. It's so cold and I want to die."
"You want to die? At least you get to spend all your time skating! I hate high school."
Christophe giggles at the distress in Yuuri's voice. "What time is it in Japan? Wait, are you answering a call in class? Are you perhaps… a rebel , Yuuri Katsuki?"
"It's lunch actually, you're lucky I did answer. I'm so behind on lessons, I'll have to start revising in my sleep."
" Sounds disgusting. How many more months till freedom?"
"Five. I've got midterms in a few weeks though. At least they're before the Grand Prix. But my entrance exams are in January, just before Worlds."
"Shit, I forgot how tiring it is to study and train at the same time. How are you going to slip in training and school?"
"You tell me."
"Damn, glad I didn't go to college. Do you think Viktor Nikiforov has to deal with deadlines and school assignments?"
"With the money he rakes in with commercials? No way. You think Russia would let their Olympic star waste time on school when he could be training?"
"True, true. Speaking of training, what's up with your coaching situation? Everything I've found was from outside sources, which is bullshit since I have the actual source a phone call away." Yuuri can hear Christophe pouting from across the oceans.
Yuuri flops back down onto his back. "Please don't talk to me about it, or I'll literally explode."
" But I want to know the gossip!"
"I'll tell you at the finals."
"...Is that confirmation you'll be going?"
"You promised to take me out, remember? How could I disappoint."
"Yes!" Christophe hoots loudly, causing Yuuri to flinch. " Cao Bin, you know that Chinese skater who hangs around Nikiforov? He told me he knows some good nightclubs, so be prepared. Make sure you bring ID, because we're celebrating your eighteenth in style."
"You're going to ruin my liver before I even have a chance to live."
"Oh, Yuuri." Christophe purrs, elongating his name so it's drawn out. "You think much too highly of me."
" Actually, I think lowly of you. You're competing at the Cup of China next week, right? I'll watch, considering it's in my timezone."
"Ouch, does that mean you wouldn't watch me if I got Skate America? Harsh. I bet you stayed up for Nikiforov."
"If you compare yourself to Viktor, you're always going to lose." Yuuri barks out, laughing. " And, since when was he Nikiforov?"
"Since I found out you have posters of him on your wall. I've been bumped off my place as his biggest fan."
"You're the Vice-President - that's still good enough."
"It'll have to do. " Christophe sighs, " Oh shit, my bus just pulled in so I'll call you later tonight. See you at the finals, babycakes."
Yuuri laughs loudly. "See you, Chris." With the resounding beep signalling the end of the call, Yuuri's face stretches out into a smile. Christophe always comes into Yuuri's life like a hurricane, bursting in and leaving everything a mess.
"But he always makes the day fun." Yuuri muses to himself, throwing his phone to his side and stretching his arms up. He lets out a huge yawn, flopping back onto the grass.
He throws his phone to his side, stretching his arms up. He needs to eat, needs to go hand in the work he's behind on. There's so much to do, but all Yuuri wants is sleep.
There's no time to lie about in self-pity. These few months will be hectic, but they are important. He sighs heavily, allowing himself to wallow for a little longer, before pulling out his textbooks and highlighters.
If Yuuri wants to be centre-stage, he'll need Celestino. And to do that, he'll have to somehow get through the next few months.
"I-isn't that Katsuki-senpai?"
"He looks so handsome underneath the sakura petals! Like a painting!"
"Or an anime character!"
"That too! But why is he sitting by himself? Is he studying? Maybe we could go down and talk to him!"
"What! No! Don't you know the rules?"
"Rules?!"
"Yes! You're so lucky you have me as a senpai, otherwise who knows what would've happened to you. Katsuki-san is always so busy that school is probably his only time to rest! Why would we disturb him? Gosh, you have no brain at all!"
"But- this might be the only chance we get to see him up close!"
"Don't even think about it!"
"What about his injury? We should go up and make sure he knows that he has our support, senpai!"
"If we go, we'll disturb him! Besides, Hana-senpai, you know the one who's in his class, said he seemed completely fine in class. And Yumi-senpai, yeah, yeah that second year, - the one who works at her parents' shop opposite Ice Castle - she said that in the morning, he came in to buy some sports drinks, which meant he had just left the rink. That means he's practicing again."
"Well, isn't that even more of a reason we should go up to him? He'll be missing school again, and then we won't see him! It's our chance before other people swarm-"
"Listen to me, very carefully. Katsuki-senpai is to be loved and adored from afar. If you get too close, you'll become School Enemy No. 1. There will be no saving you from everyone's wrath."
Vienna International Hotel Expo Park,
Shanghai,
Republic of China
A shrill ringtone erupts through a hotel room, reverbarting loudly against the four walls of the room. The room is large, larger than perhaps it's inhabitant requires. There are clothes flung in random parts of the room, evidently with little care. A Canadian team jacket is visible within the rubble of the mess, it's stark red floundered by the whites of it's sleeves.
A man groans from his place under the covers, smashing his face back into his pillow to block out the irritating sound. The ringtone stops from its attack on his ears, and the man sighs in relief, shuffling back under the covers.
His hair flutters around his shoulders, and he tugs it slightly to free it from it's uncomfortable entrapment underneath an array of white decorative pillows and the huge comforter. There is a dull pain forming by the curve of his spine, and he turns onto his front to alleviate it, slipping back underneath the warmth of the covers.
BEEEEEEP .
"Oh, fuck off!" He shouts loudly, voice raspy from sleep as he peels his eyes open. He flinches at the sudden influx of sunlight that streams in from his windows, groaning in pain.
"...-tu'rn itsg off-" A muffled voice cries beside him. The sudden movement causes the man to freeze. He looks between himself and the other person in his bed, before swearing loudly again.
Well .
Considering the pounding in his head and his aching body, he must've had a good time at least.
The man stumbles to his feet, wincing at the soreness of his body, before finding the source of his disturbed sleep. " Alyo. "
"Don't 'hello' me, Nikiforov."
Viktor flinches.
"Yakov, darling."
" I am close to dropping you, Vitya."
" You'd drop me? Your star student? The boy you've raised since infancy?!"
" Potselui mou zhopy."
"Sorry, Yakov. My lips were just taken by another." Viktor grins at the sound of Yakov sputtering. "Anyway, why are you calling me at five- oh my god. It's five in the afternoon?"
"Yes, mudak ." Yakov sounds like he's in pain. "You've missed your flight."