CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED EIGHTY THREE
"...Would it be weird if I said I had a really bad case of déjà vu right now?" Yuri sighed, watching the podium celebration as Yurio claimed his Gold, just like he'd said he would. There was an indignant look on the skater's face as he rose back up from the bow and hand-shake, as though simultaneously proud of his achievement, but at the same time, repulsed by it.
"What would it be for?" Viktor wondered.
Yuri had sat upright since nearly the start of the Russian Tiger's program, cradling the sleepy Akita in his arms at first, then settled it down to his lap, and the blanket covering his legs. Viktor had take it upon himself to make the most of the opportunity, letting his soft, warm hands rub gently across his partner's bare back; a light squeeze of fingers against the man's shoulders, kneading at skin and muscle as those hands worked their way down.
"...Nationals last year." Yuri answered reluctantly, "I remember all the old conversations we had in Nagano, about how you felt alone at the top, even back home...how it made you sad that people would seemingly give up when they saw you coming...and how I was starting to feel that same way. I don't know that Yurio would ever admit it, but there has to be some loneliness there already. He's only 16 and he's miles above the next best skater..."
"There are bound to be occasions where there's just a drought of exceptional talent from any given place." The Russian pointed out, "Stepping out of Russia and Japan, there's some countries where there just aren't any figure skaters. Little places, or those with no history of winter sports, will sometimes have to band together for a Regional competition because there just aren't enough people to make a single National event."
"Regionals..." The younger man huffed and shook his head before lowering it slightly, looking down at Jiro, who looked back up at him briefly. He felt his partner's hands flatten against his back to start making their way up again, rubbing at his sides as they went, "...I remember the Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship...how excited you were to debut as my coach, and how nervous I was to debut as your first student...then, in spite of the mistakes, how proud I was...standing on the top of that little podium, 1st place winner in a competition of four..."
"I recall that you scored pretty well though. Even Morooka was impressed."
"Yeah..."
Tired blue eyes looked at the time, seeing 1:58am cascade to 1:59am. The silver legend yawned and stretched, but just as he was about to unwind from his tension, he felt Yuri turning around where he sat. Eyes then watched as Jiro was set on the floor to trot away, and a pair of hands settled down to press a wrist against each side of his waist.
Though only slightly, Yuri pressed his knees under the Russian's thighs where they still parted around him, blanket barely hanging onto his thin frame. He hesitated for a moment, but then lifted his right hand, setting it on his partner's skin and sliding it from stomach to collar-bone, then down again. There was a slight flush fading into his cheeks, but he looked straight-on anyway, "...You want to go again?"
"...To Regionals...?" Viktor asked, stupefied by the early hour.
"No!" Yuri blanched, laughing piteously as he half-dropped down from the absurdity of the question. He scooted forward then, and pulled those legs up against his waist as he went, both hands sliding past the man's shoulders to lace fingers together behind that silver head, "Is this more clear?"
Viktor smiled innocently, but his hands came up to press lightly around his husband's ribs, sliding down past his waist, moving around to lace his own fingers together above his partner's lower back, "I want to hear you say it..."
"...I wanna make-out again before we go to sleep..."
The silver Russian nosed his husband's lips, purring the words quietly, "My my, you're thirsty tonight...did you put anything extra in the wine, my love?"
Yuri leaned down to press a cheek against his spouse's, whispering words against the man's ear, "Maybe I just like how it feels when you're inside me."
Even Viktor's face went red then, but he smirked anyway, giving a half-lidded look to his partner as the man pulled back again, "Wow~!"
The younger man took that as his invitation to get closer, lowering down for a kiss as he brought one knee up at a time to slide past his partner's inner thighs. He perched the curve of his shins and ankles over those legs to keep them parted under himself, and settled down directly into the man's lap for the start of his fun.
.
As the Megasport Arena started to empty, Yurio suddenly felt a weird pit in his stomach. One he'd known was there for a while, but that he'd chosen to ignore for as long as humanly possible. He gathered up his gear bags and waited for Georgi and Mila to get their things as well, standing near Yakov, gleaning his reflection in the gold shine of his medal. He heard the odd congratulatory words from other athletes and staff as they went by, but the Russian Tiger didn't pay much attention.
The pit had taken hold of it.
[Yuratchka.] Yakov's voice suddenly interrupted the teen's train of thought, and he jerked in surprise, but kept his cool, looking up, [Looks like your ride is here.] The coach thumbed back towards the exit, towards the Rozovskys and their titan attaché.
Yurio felt even more nervous then, and he turned his eyes up to the older man, [...I think I'm ready to tell her.]
"Huh?" Yakov gave him a confused look, but the dawn of realization was quick to follow, and he nodded. He turned slightly and looked towards the former Prima, [Lilia, Yuri needs to tell you something.]
Off-green eyes went from the coach to the skater, but Lilia didn't seem at all troubled by those words, [What is it?]
Yurio held his ground, [After Nationals, I'm moving to Hasetsu.] He said plainly, swallowing nervously at the end of it as he waited for his choreographer's reaction. He could hear Mila and Georgi tuning in, but neither said anything, [This is as far as I can go on my own.] He went on, sending the desire for an explanation even if no one asked him for one, [You asked me once to kill my former self, so my new self could be born from the ashes...and I think I did that well enough with my skating. But...outside of that, outside the rink...my past life is still alive, clinging to every second of familiarity that it can before everything it knows...knew...changes forever. I can feel it...dying inside me every day...little by little... I guess I just didn't want to be alone when it finally passed.]
The ballerina lifted her head from the athlete in front of her, to the group watching nervously just beyond the doors. Taking it like a professional though, she looked back down at the short-statured skater, [Hasetsu. So Viktor Nikiforov will be your coach after all.] She said, more as a statement than a question.
[He's only agreed to be my choreographer.] He corrected.
Even Yakov raised a brow at that, [Then...?] Lilia wondered.
[You don't know her...] Yurio tried to explain, [But she used to be a ballerina, just like you. I don't know about her being a Prima before, but she won some prestigious ballet award in the past.]
[Your new coach is a former ballerina...?] The two elders asked in unison, only to balk a little, realizing they were trying to finish each other's sentences.
Yakov shook his head, [Has she ever coached a skater before?]
[No. She can't even skate.] The Tiger gave a meager laugh before turning his head down.
Lilia actually smiled at that, [Well...at least he replaced me with someone credentialed.] She crossed her arms and looked to the older man standing next to her, [Can't say the same for you though.]
The coach grimaced, feeling another rage-lecture coming on, and he gripped the top of his hat to hold it in place, [...Why wouldn't Vitya be your coach, too?]
[A bunch of reasons.] Yurio started backing up as he answered, [Mostly cuz he doesn't think he can manage coaching Katsudon and working on his own stuff if he takes me on, too...]
[So when he's retired?]
[I think he intends to consider it later on, yeah...]
That seemed to calm Yakov down a little, and he let go of his hat, taking a deep breath before looking back at the teen, [Maybe this will be a good year for you to take that break you've been worried about.]
Yurio scoffed at that, [The way things are, I'll make it to the end of the season before any growth spurts put me out of commission...and if nothing happens before the next season starts, I'll resign myself to the idea that I'll be this size forever.]
The elder coach just leveled him a look, mentally suggesting the teen has entirely missed the point. He shrugged though and pat Yurio's shoulder, [Then I guess there's nothing more to say, beyond the hope that you find what you need out there. Maybe you'll come back to Russia one day.]
[Maybe.]
.
Night settled in like a thick blanket, smothering Osaka in darkness even as the snows fell. The room was quiet, save the soft breaths of the woman sleeping nearest to the wall. Asahi was having a hard time falling asleep though.
He'd close his eyes, only to find himself rolling over and 'waking himself up' again in the process, then repeating it as he flopped back to the original spot he'd been in. At one terrifying moment, he could feel his body going to sleep...leaving his mind behind and alert...until he was utterly paralyzed where he lay.
No, not this again...anything but this...
A weight settled on his side, like some other body was sitting on him there, and he struggled as hard as he could to make himself move. Even just the task of forcing his eyes open was hard, but slowly, little by little, he felt himself starting to manage a slight wiggle. The wiggle turned into a rocking motion, and all of a sudden, like a door giving way after being slammed enough times, he felt himself free of the motionless feeling, able to jerk his arms forward and wrench his head up off his pillow.
He caught his breath and looked around the room, checking the downy blanket where he'd felt the pressure, but seeing no abnormal indentation in it. He sighed and pushed the whole thing back with the sheets, and swung his legs out over the side of the bed.
It's been a long time since I had an episode of Sleep Paralysis...not since just after the accident. At least I didn't see anything fucked up this-
"Asahi..."
-...time...?
He lifted his head to look around the room, but all he could see were the outlines of the furniture, and the shadows they cast. Nothing out of the ordinary. He turned his tired eyes back towards the window, looking at the soft glow of light coming in from outside. The gently falling snow was mesmerizing, and at least for the moment, watching it was comforting. Standing up from the edge of the mattress, Asahi moved back towards the green fabric of the corner couch, and sat down on it like before, crossing his legs as he looked through the wide crack in the curtain.
For a little while, he just watched the snow. In a weird way, it started to make him sleepy.
"...Asahi...!"
He jumped that time, looking around for the source of the voice, "...Who's there...!?"
"Did you already forget what I sound like?"
The nervous figure felt a gnawing sensation in his chest, hearing the sound coming from his right...though the only thing next to him was the glass and another curtain. He hesitantly reached for it, and started to pull it back...and there, just as he'd dreaded...and in a small way, hoped...was Riku, sitting on the reflection of the bench outside the window.
Asahi sighed, and let the curtain fall behind him, hiding the light from coming into the room to bother the woman who'd given him shelter from the bother of the crowd. He settled his elbows down on the edges of his knees and looked forward, "...You're just sitting in my reflection...you're not really there."
"That's a mean thing to say." Riku retorted, assuming the same position as the man inside, "I've been trying to reach out for so long, but you put me out of your head so fast, it's like you didn't want me around in the first pla-"
"That's not true!" Asahi cut him off, twisting around to stare at the figure, only to find him doing the exact same thing...and giving him quite the disappointed look through the glass, "...I've wanted you around all this time, but knowing you couldn't be here was just...too hard. I couldn't do it." He went back to where he was a moment before, resting his elbows on his knees, and his strange reflection did the same, "Every shadow out the corner of my eye was you for so long...every car that passed was the one that hit us. I was having nightmares, if I dreamed at all...I'd even feel you next to me, only to look and remember that you weren't there."
"How long did that last?"
Asahi shuddered, "The first three weeks... Until I tried to go back to the rink, and people started asking about me, and then you...and I just couldn't take having to lie about it all. It was too raw. I told people so many times that we...we were just friends... I couldn't tell them how much it destroyed me that you were gone...so I started to believe the lie instead of resisting it."
Riku sighed and shook his head, "I guess I can't be that surprised. Your head and your heart are like adversarial forces, always fighting one another for dominance...your head won out in the end to protect you." He looked aside slightly towards the man inside, "How long has it even been...? I lost track."
"Almost 2 years to the day." Asahi answered. He hesitated for a few seconds, but then set his hands down against the couch and lifted himself up to turn around and face the window, able to see his partner's superimposition on his own reflection head-on, as Riku had done the exact same thing, "...I quit the Tokyo club officially about 2 months after you died... I couldn't stand to see the place without you in it, so I went back to Imari with my tail between my legs." He raised his right hand and set it on the glass, wishing he could feel the palm reaching back from the other side. He felt the knot growing in his throat again, and his eyes burned, "I've missed you so much, every single day... And I've hated myself for not saying anything..."
"Don't hate yourself."
"I kissed Yuri yesterday."
Riku leveled him a serious look through the glass, "Excuse you?"
Asahi cringed and bowed his head low, the hair at the crown of his head nearly pressing to the pane, "I'm sorry! I stopped thinking!" He pleaded, "Everything had settled down in my head after so much time, refusing to think about it, but then I saw him here...and all these memories started flooding back... The memory of you and how much it hurt to lose you, and how hard I'd fought to suppress it...only to find myself getting caught back up in all the shit you'd worked so hard to pull me away from."
"Where are you now, a competition?"
Asahi nodded.
"So you saw him on a Thursday and you made it one day before you were after his ass again? ASAHI SAITO, I SWEAR-"
"I'm sorry! And that's not really what happened...!" He insisted, pleading with the morphed reflection before him. Both hands came up to the glass then, pressed against it like the walls of a clear prison, and Riku matched it, looking back at him with a scorned look on his face, "Yuri locked me in a room with him and we got into a huge fight about everything! By the end of it, I was ready to throw myself off the top of the hotel, so I thought I'd take some comfort with me by kissing him before I left... But it was the worst thing I'd ever done, and then Yuri had a panic attack so bad that he passed out...all because of me... I didn't want to leave this world after causing so much pain... And Yuri was right anyway..." He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the glass, "This pain I'm holding onto...it's for you, not for him... All these thoughts I've put down at the back of my mind have come back to the front so hard and fast that I...got everything so confused...and did some horrible things to try and make it stop." Tears fell from his eyes, pattering against the synthetic fibers of the couch beneath his face, "I made others feel bad in an attempt to make myself feel better, and it was awful... I'm trying to make amends for it...but the more time goes on, the more I remember you again...and now you're here..."
"I came all this way only to hear you say you cheated on me."
Asahi trembled, hands and forehead sliding down the glass as his fingers curled into fists, "...I didn't... How could I...? I would never..."
"Asahi." Riku said firmly, "Look at me."
Red eyes came up, and looked into the reflection.
"How long am I going to have to wait for you to react?"
A confused look answered.
"You're finally starting to remember me again...but you're clawing desperately at the idea that you can stop yourself from grieving...because why?" The younger figure asked, staring forward with those empty eyes, "We were going to start telling people about us! We were two hours from that moment! You've extended it out long enough now, don't you think...?"
"...I told Yuri...and I told her..." Asahi nudged his head into the room, "...Even Yuri's partner kind-of knows..." He shook his head and lowered his face again, "I could've made it to that moment before because I had you with me, but now I'm all alone... I have no one to back me up..." The tears fell harder then, "I don't even have any way to prove what we were, what we had...except my word for it..."
"That's not even half-true." Riku scolded, "You used to get so mad at me for taking pictures all the time. How often did you tell me, 'How are we going to keep this a secret if you've got a million photos on that thing?'"
"Riku... Don't you see...?" Asahi wept, leaning forward again to press his bangs to the glass, "...Your phone was destroyed in the accident..."
"Was it? I don't know."
"Huh?" He lifted his head fully, staring straight into the reflection. He blinked in confusion, droplets falling away, "What are you saying...?"
"Who knows?" Riku shrugged as well as he could, given how his body was locked into Asahi's position, "...All I remember is looking up at you, and how much everything hurt... And I died..."
Asahi couldn't take his eyes away, "Riku..."
"Maybe it's not as hopeless as you think." The ghost offered, finding a smile despite his slowly-fading apparition, "And maybe you're not as alone as you think."
"Don't go...don't leave me again..." Asahi pleaded, hands clawing at the glass, his reflection doing the same and making him feel as though his partner was trying to claw through it, too. It only spurred him on to bang on it with the side of his fist, "Riku please no!"
"You're not going to get to this side that way," Riku pointed out, "And I don't want you to try either."
"...You can't just leave me like this...!"
"Then I won't... I still have to leave, but..."
Asahi felt himself leaning forward, and the figure opposite him started to do the same, though in his distressed mind, he could've sworn the reflection started moving before he did. He curled his fingers against the glass again, imagining their fingers together, and pressed his face gently forward after that. The panel was cold, smooth, and flat...but for half a second, he let himself think it felt like his lost love.
When he opened his eyes again, Riku's image was gone, leaving him in the awkward position of pulling back from his own face against the glass. He fell off the back of the couch, barely able to catch an arm over the next section that came out from the L-shape in the corner, and looked up at the tall glass frame in front of him. Snow fell, barely glowing from the light of the streets below, and Asahi reached his free hand forward to touch his fingertips to the pane. They were his own fingers again, and it just made his heart hurt all the more.
...I was...just talking to myself this whole time...
His hand and arm dropped down to the couch-seat, slowly curling in towards him as he brought his other hand up to join it. His vision blurred as tears filled his eyes even more than before...and he lowered his face into his folded arms, and just cried.