Yuuri was woken up at five in the morning when Phichit strutted into her room and turned the lights on. The fact that she didn't panic and merely launched her pillow at him was a testament to their enduring friendship. In college after she gave him a key, he would randomly pop into her apartment at all hours. She'd come back from class to find him eating cereal in her kitchen, or he would take it upon himself to help her get dressed when she needed to make a good impression somewhere. His help was invaluable to Yuuri who was not particularly fashion conscious. Sometimes she did wonder where he learned to do eyeliner like that, but Yuuri usually focused more on the fact that he could. Yuuri was touched that he considered this an occasion worthy of his assistance at five am, a sacrifice of sleep and of practice.
Once she had dragged herself out of her bed, he followed her into the kitchen, talking at her while she ate. This mostly consisted of some advice for what she should do with Victor.
"Yuuri, you better make a good impression on Victor, you hear me? You do this for the both of us. Break out of your shell, show him the sexy Yuuri that we all saw at the banquet two years ago."
Yuuri blushed, not because of the faint memories she had of the night, but because of the pictures that Phichit had taken that she didn't remember at all. She had started the night feeling a little antsy and hadn't felt confident enough to tell the constantly hovering waiter to stop refilling her glass of champagne. As a result, as the night wore on, Yuuri got less and less sober. Her small size meant that on a good day she struggled to handle alcohol, and drinking that much so quickly? She really had been asking for trouble. Once she started to get tipsy, all her logic and reasoning ceased to exist, and she did some stupid stuff.
Her behavior at the banquet wasn't as crazy as her 21st birthday had been (and she had Phichit to thank for that one), but according to photos, not only had she had a dance-off against a junior skater, but she had also pole danced with Christophe Giacometti. And, as Phichit was reminding her now, Yuuri had been very forward and flirtatious with a number of skaters, up to and including Victor himself. No one had mentioned it to her afterwards and she was only too content to let that be the case, but knowing that she had behaved that embarrassingly in front of Victor had only made her clam up more around him. The banquet was hardly a good first impression. Yuuri hoped that enough time had passed for him to forget about it.
Her friend helped her load her bags into his car, and the pair set off for the airport. The ride was quiet, as Yuuri's nerves took over. All the different worst-case scenarios that she could think of starting running through her head. What if she arrived and Victor took one look at her, deciding that he could never skate with someone like her? Or worse, what if it was all one big joke being played on her? They'd have to be out of their minds to have wanted someone like her to skate with someone like Victor anyways.
Phichit seemed to sense her worries, because he plugged his phone in, and soon familiar music began playing in the car. The soundtrack to The King and the Skater was something that was very dear to both of them. It brought back good memories of the first time that they had watched the movie together. Yuuri let herself think about that instead, pulling herself out of her mind. The two friends laughed about how Yuuri had managed to spill the popcorn all over the sofa, and how they had had to spend about an hour once the credits rolled just picking up popcorn because they couldn't find the vacuum.
By the time they reached the airport, Yuuri was feeling a lot better about herself. Phichit had a way of making everyone feel at ease. It was almost like he had a sixth sense for emotions, because he often sensed how she was feeling before she had even figured it out herself.
"Don't forget about me over in Russia, but go get him, girl!" Phichit joked. Yuuri leaned over and gave him a big hug. She hopped out of the car and grabbed her luggage from the trunk, dumping it on the sidewalk. Yuuri watched as her friend drove away before grabbing her backpack and pulling her suitcase behind her. No going back now.
Yuuri tried to catch a peek of the ground below from where she was sitting, but her aisle seat didn't exactly lend the best view. She couldn't believe that she had finally arrived. The flight had felt almost endless, especially since she and Phichit had jumped the gun a little bit and arrived about three hours early. During the flight she oscillated between feeling intensely excited and nervous, and feeling bored out of her mind. She had tried to nap but that wasn't very successful. As she stepped off the plane and into the airport, she marveled at the unfamiliar letters and sounds that surrounded her. It was odd to have absolutely no clue what anything mean.
Yuuri made her way through customs and collected her suitcase from the baggage claim before realizing that she had absolutely no idea where she was supposed to be going. Frantically, she reached for her phone, praying that Angela had given her some information about her travel arrangements. Yuuri didn't even know the name of her hotel!
When she checked her messages, she started hyperventilating. Apparently she was to be met at the airport by none other than Lilia Baranovskaya herself!
Yuuri had heard a lot about this woman from Minako during ballet classes back in Hasetsu. Minako herself had been a very successful and fairly prominent ballerina before she retired and started teaching dance to others, and she reminisced on her performing days fondly. Yuuri herself wasn't quite sure how the two of them knew each other; for all she knew, Lilia had been a rival of Minako's. Minako had showed Yuuri some footage of Lilia dancing when Yuuri was younger. Yuuri couldn't remember what the video was supposed to teach to her do, but she did remember the beauty of the dance, and carried with her a respect for this woman. This was compounded when the Russian ballerina had been mentioned as a choreographer of Victor's back when he was a junior skater. From what she could remember, Lilia had also been married to Yakov Feltsman. Yuuri wondered a little bit about how the two of them worked together now, but figured it wasn't really any of her business anyways.
She walked outside and searched the group assembled outside. Most of the people waiting appeared to be private taxi drivers, holding signs with names on them, mostly written in the Cyrillic alphabet. It didn't take her long to spot the distinctive dancer, waiting casually in a yellow coat. Yuuri approached her.
"Excuse me, ma'am? Are you Lilia Baranovskaya?" Yuuri asked. Her question was met with a sharp nod.
"I admired your dancing greatly. My ballet teacher, Minako Okukawa, spoke of you very fondly." These words garnered Yuuri a pair of raised eyebrows. Yuuri flushed, realizing she hadn't introduced herself.
"Oh! Pardon my manners- I'm Yuuri Katsuki, pleased to meet you."
The Russian woman still didn't say anything, giving Yuuri an appraising look before turning to go, leaving Yuuri scrambling to follow her. As they walked over to an elegant black car, the older woman finally said something to her.
"You said you took ballet from Minako Okukawa?"
Yuuri nodded, a little confused.
"I expect you to join the other skaters for dance during training. You'll be decent enough."
From what Yuuri had heard whispered by the Russian skaters, "decent" was high praise.
A well-dressed man emerged from the driver's seat of the car and opened the door to the front seat for the former ballerina before letting Yuuri into the back. The sun was already setting here; the time was seven hours ahead, if she remembered correctly. The drive to the hotel was long and deathly silent.
Yuuri was eager to escape the car by the time they finally arrived. She felt uncomfortable around the stern Russian woman, and guiltily hoped that ballet wouldn't take up too much time here. She loved to dance, but she didn't think she would have come to like it if she had learned from Lilia. Yuuri made a beeline for the check-in desk.
Settling into her room, Yuuri made good on her promise to text Phichit.
Bad news. Because of the time change I'm not even seeing Victor tonight. All your efforts was wasted lol.
Her friend replied back after a minute, even though it was a Saturday and so he should be in the middle of practice. Yuuri wasn't surprised; he was practically glued to his phone.
Noooo, did I wake up at five am for nothing? It's no big deal; did it make you feel more confident today?
Yeah. Yuuri replied quickly.
Then I have done my duty. Gtg celestino is looking at me like he wants to kill me rn.
Yuuri got settled into bed, feeling entirely awake, but making a token effort to go to sleep. She put on her pajamas and crawled into bed. Maybe she should order room service? She dismissed that idea. With her nerves the way they were right now, it might just come back to haunt her tomorrow. She felt a little queasy thinking about it.
Yuuri woke up some time later, when it was still dark outside. She couldn't remember quite when she had actually fallen asleep, but apparently she had been more tired than she had thought. Her phone told her that it was four in the morning local time. She checked her messages from Angela, and she wasn't even needed at the rink until a cushy 7 am, which left her way too much time where she wasn't going to be able to sleep.
She briefly contemplated going running, but that would make her tired and sore, and she wanted to make a good impression. Plus, she didn't know the area at all, and three in the morning probably wasn't the best time to go exploring. But she knew that she wasn't going to be able to fall asleep again.
She pulled up a map on her phone, looking at what was nearby. The rink was only a mile away. Yuuri wished that she could do some skating right now to clear her head. It was times like these where she missed Hasetsu the most, because back home with a key to the rink, she could skate at midnight if she had really wanted to. But she had also been too tired to pop awake early back then.
She remembered her promise to Phichit, and figured that if she had the time, she might as well invest the time in her appearance this morning. Yuuri went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, standing under the hot water until her skin turned pink. She toweled off and grabbed her favorite warm-up clothing, a Team Japan jacket and a pair of soft black pants that managed to be comfortable without looking like her second-favorite pair of pants, some admittedly grungy sweatpants. She pulled out her small bag of makeup, pulling out an eyeliner pencil and getting started on the real challenge.
About fifty tries later, Yuuri had used copious amounts of makeup remover and decided that maybe this was a lost cause. She examined herself in the mirror- her skin looked pretty good, aside from a little redness around her eyes from her failed attempts at makeup. There was no real reason to use makeup for practice anyways. She'd just sweat it off and that would look worse in the long run. Yuuri put in contacts and called it a day.
It was still only 5:30 in the morning by the time she had finished with all this, so Yuuri grabbed some granola bars from her bag. She couldn't do this on an empty stomach. She messed around on her phone (anything to kill time!) before she snapped. She couldn't keep waiting any longer! She felt as if she had been waiting her whole life for this chance anyways. Why should she have to wait a minute longer?
If she remembered right, the rink was only a few blocks away, and there were sure to be someone there by now. Filled with uncharacteristic determination, Yuuri made her way along the quiet and cold streets, victoriously pushing open the doors to the rink. She was glad there was nobody waiting in the lobby because she lost all her confidence really quickly when she tried to go to the locker rooms. She hadn't been paying attention, so she burst into the men's locker room. She quickly realized her mistake, but the damage had been done; Yuuri slunk away to the women's locker room to hide.
Yuuri set her stuff down on the bench and went through her stretches, slowly warming her muscles up and reveling in the sense of satisfaction that she received from it. Yuuri loved the slightly uncomfortable feeling of pushing herself just a little bit past her comfort zone. Her flexibility was also a must for any female skater; if you couldn't do a Bielman, you were missing out on some serious extra points. That's part of the reason that ballet was so important to her cross-training regimine, because it demanded strength and elasticity from her muscles.
Stretched and as ready as she was going to be, Yuuri exited the locker room towards the rink. There were a few skaters who looked to be on the younger side on the rink right now- she swore that she recognized the one with a blonde bob, but she wasn't quite sure from where. The international skating world wasn't huge, so she was sure she had seen him at a competition somewhere. Yuuri grabbed a spot on the bleachers before pulling out her phone, texting Phichit in hopes of receiving some moral support.
Finally at the rink, wish me luck!
She waited for a response, but it seemed like she wasn't going to be getting one. Her friend was probably in class right now anyways. Yuuri was startled when someone sat down next to her, because she hadn't noticed anyone approaching.
"Hello!" they greeted in accented English.
"Hi!" she returned, not looking up from her phone.
"Yuuri Katsuki, right ?" he asked her. Something about that voice was starting to seem very familiar. Yuuri looked up and her heart started beating twice as fast. She would know that distinctive silver hair and gorgeous face anywhere.
"V..Victor?" she stammered out, unsure of what to say. He smiled widely at her and Yuuri thought that she might burst.
"Yes, that's me! You know, it's strange… we've been at so many events together and yet I feel like we barely run into each other!"
Yuuri stared at him, dumbstruck as he continued to chat with her like it was the most natural thing in the world. She tried again and again to formulate what to say in her head, but every time she opened her mouth to speak, she'd close it again. She felt so painfully awkward next to him, the ugly duckling next to the proverbial swan. Why had she been so eager to put herself through this torture- to be so close to him, yet so far away?
She noticed that Victor was looking at her expectantly. Had he asked her a question?
"I'm sorry, what did you just say? I think I missed it."
Victor laughed, and Yuuri relaxed. She seemed to be doing something right.
"I was just wondering about how you chose your theme for this year. I always struggle to find a theme that I can connect with that will still be surprising for my audience, but you seem to be able to do it every year."
Yuuri wasn't quite sure what she said after that. She started rambling about how she never would have guessed that he struggled with themes because of how much she loved his routines every year. Yuuri felt more and more comfortable the longer she talked because Victor didn't say anything, and his face appeared perfectly attentive; he was listening to her without judging her like she had been sure he would. She had gotten to describing how her routines this year felt more true to her personality than ever when the blonde skater came off the ice. He said something to Victor in Russian that sounded accusatory (although, who really knew?), and it caused her idol to blush before shooting back a response. Yuuri wondered privately what made him react that way, but the spell Victor had cast on her was broken and she withdrew into herself again. Victor might seem more than nice enough, but this kid seemed very angry. She sat there uncomfortably until the blonde kid finally said something in English.
"Yakov said that he'll be with you on the ice in fifteen minutes, and that you should start warming up soon."
With that, he stalked away with a palpable aura of irritation that left Yuuri reeling. How could someone so young be so bitter? He almost seemed angry at her for some reason.
"Who was that?" she asked, voicing her thoughts out loud.
"Yuri Plisetsky," Victor replied.
"Oh, another Yuri?" she laughed.
"He's a little put out about that, if you couldn't tell. He thinks it's embarrassing that he shares a name with a female figure skater." Victor seemed to be laughing at this, but Yuuri didn't think having this other Yuri as an enemy was something to joke about. That kid gave her the creeps.
Yuuri pulled out her skates and began lacing them up, making sure that her skate guards were on. Victor gave them a curious look, which Yuuri could understand- they were old and beaten up and covered in stickers, from when she and Yuuko had decided to decorate their skate guards back in middle school. It was something to remind her of home when she was miles and miles away; she had used them through her whole competitive career.
She was surprised to see that his skate guards also seemed to be worn and older. Few if any other skaters she knew got sentimental over their skate guards.
Yuuri smiled shyly at him before gliding onto the rink.