[ December 6, 2015 ]
Yuri doesn't remember this day from the last time he lived it, but he's sitting on a bench by the rink as he watches Victor practice. He notices this time around that Victor looks a little bored, as though his inspiration's been snatched away from him.
Then again, he remembers, the world will never be surprised by Victor Nikiforov again – not as long as he continues as a professional figure skater.
That gives him an idea, but he locks it away for now.
"Yuri, why don't you come practice your jumps?" Victor suggests, holding a hand out to him invitingly as he completes another loop around the rink. "You compete in a week, after all."
"I leave in two days," Yuri corrects him, sounding bored. He crosses his arms. "How am I supposed to practice anything when you're taking up the whole damn rink like that?"
"Oh, sorry," Victor says, flashing him a cheeky smile and not sounding sorry at all. He comes to a stop beside the entrance to the rink. Yuri rolls his eyes before taking the covers off his skates and stepping onto the ice.
"Besides, shouldn't you be more worried about your own competition, old man?" Yuri snaps, gliding over the ice for a moment before spinning around on one foot to glare pointedly at Victor. Victor merely shrugs.
"I'm not too worried."
"Really?" Yuri hesitates for a moment. "There's an up-and-coming new star, you know."
Victor laughs. "Who, you? Come on, Yu – "
"Yuuri Katsuki," interrupts Yuri, an eyebrow raised. Victor doesn't recognize the name and only stares at him in confusion. Yuri sighs, trying to act a lot less nervous than he is. If he screws up this time around... "He's a professional from Japan. This is his first year in the Final, but he's pretty good, you know."
"Oh, really?" Victor seems intrigued. "It's strange for you to be taking an interest in someone else, Yuri."
"Well – " Yuri huffs and crosses his arms. " – He has the same name as me, and we don't need two Yuri's in the senior division. So there!"
Victor laughs – actually laughs – and Yuri wants nothing more than to push him over to knock the silly smile off his face. Instead, he grumbles to himself and does a few laps before launching into a quad Salchow. If there's one quad he's confident about, it's that one.
He remembers that he's not supposed to do quads yet, as per Yakov's decision. He also remembers that Victor rebelled against that rule when he was younger, too, and he turned out alright, didn't he? Well, save for his arrogant habit of forgetting his fellow competitors.
Dammit, Yuuri Katsuki, what am I doing for you?
Yuri's dragged along, against his will, to dinner with Mila and Anya. There's a little café on the corner, just a few minutes' walk from the rink, and Yuri grumbles the entire way. Mila is mean. Anya is just as mean. He hates them both – the hags.
Victor smiles in amusement and ruffles his hair – much to Yuri's disdain. "You'll survive," he says, not sympathetic at all about Yuri's plight. The blonde fixes his hair angrily, pulls his hood over his head, and sulks the rest of the way.
The first thing Mila does, of course, is throw an arm over Yuri's shoulders. When Yuri glares at her, she doesn't make any attempt to move and instead just smiles innocently back at him. They order sandwiches and the adults – Victor and Anya – have a bit of wine just because the sun was going down. "What kind of lame-ass excuse is that?" Yuri spits, but they pay him no mind.
They part after dinner, and as soon as Yuri gets home, he jumps on the computer. He needs to book a flight immediately.
He winces at how much money the flight itself costs – especially round-trip – but he inputs his credit card number anyway and waits for it to confirm.
And then he looks online for the nearest vet. His heart is pounding in his chest. This is completely, absolutely immoral, but he knows he has to do it. It's for Yuuri's future.
[ December 7, 2015 ]
He leaves the next day, telling Yakov that he's sick and that he'll be back in two days, tops (it's a tight schedule, since Yuri's supposed to leave on a flight to the Grand Prix Final in two days). Yakov sounds hesitant when he insists that no, he does not need Victor to come check on him, but lets it go. Yuri brings nothing but a small backpack and actually ditches his leopard-print jacket for a plain fleece one.
He needs to blend in.
He asks the shady vet for a syringe of pentobarbital, saying that he needs to put his dog to sleep and that he'd prefer for his father to do it. When the vet looks at him funny, Yuri whispers in his ear that yes, he does know about all the illegal trafficking, and then the vet hands it over without any further fuss.
Yuri puts the syringe in a large sunglasses case, wraps the case in many layers of clothing, and sets off for the airport. He checks in and holds his breath as his bag goes through security, but it's cleared. He puts his sunglasses back on – even though they're inside – and continues on to the right terminal.
"All by yourself, young man?" a balding man asks from beside him. Yuri spares him a glance and nods. "Ah, I remember the time I snuck out to go visit my girlfriend..."
Yuri isn't sure what that has to do with being at the airport alone, but he politely half-listens to the man as he rambles on and on about his ex. By the time they call for boarding, Yuri can't stand up fast enough and doesn't even bother saying good-bye.
The plane ride is long, and Yuri's absolutely bored out of his mind. He tries to watch television, but it's all in English and Japanese. His English is fine, but he decides very quickly that he prefers Russian.
He starts trying to play games on his phone, but that doesn't last him very long either. Finally, he resigns himself to going over his plan over and over, to devising back-up strategies, and by the time the plane finally lands, he's got every single detail worked out in his head.
He asks the cabbie to take him to Yu-topia Katsuki, and thank goodness the cabbie knows what he's talking about. It's a small town, after all, Yuri thinks. He gets out, shoves the appropriate amount of yen into the cabbie's hands, and then stares up at the large building.
It's traditional Japanese architecture, all right.
He tugs on his beanie, making sure it covers all of his strikingly blond hair (after all, everyone here has black hair, and he can't be remembered if he wants his plan to work). He heads in through the gate and is met near the front door by an older woman with a big smile on her face. She reminds him of Muffy from that one children's series. "All by yourself, dear?" she asks, and Yuri just nods. "Do you need a room, or were you just going for the hot spring?"
"A room," Yuri says, before remembering that these are elderly people whose dog he's going to put to sleep a few days early, "please."
"Of course, dear!" She leads him inside and has him write his name down and sign something or other, before asking another woman with dyed hair and piercings to show him around. Her name's Mari, apparently, and Yuri knows she's Yuuri's sister.
"Onsen, room, living room, bathroom," she says, walking quickly. She seems a bit bored, Yuri thinks. "Any questions?"
"No," says Yuri, before remembering, "thank you."
She nods to him and disappears. Yuri sets his stuff down in his room before glancing at his watch and deciding he has a while to spend before he puts his plan into action. So he ventures through the hallways toward the hot spring and finds a bunch of old men bathing. He crinkles his nose. Ew.
But then he discovers the outdoor hot spring and, after making sure nobody's out here watching, strips and slips into the hot water. It's nice, he thinks, wrapping a towel around his hair in case anybody comes out. He doesn't know how Japanese people bathe publicly. That's gross.
When dinnertime comes around, Yuri sleepily makes his way back inside, his hair once again covered with his beanie. The old woman from before smiles and asks what he wants to eat. He shrugs and asks for their specialty, although he has no clue what that is.
It arrives as a steaming bowl of fried rice with eggs and pork cutlet. And it's really, really good. Yuri wonders if his grandpa will make some for him in Russia.
"What are you doing here all by yourself, kid?" asks a tall, slender woman, sitting down next to him. He instinctively edges away from her, shooting her a glare in hopes that she'll leave him alone. She ignores it and says, "You're a foreigner, aren't you?"
He pretends that he doesn't speak English and responds in Russian ("I hate poodles, what about you?" "I'm a time-traveler." "Are you all stupid or something? I hope you don't recognize me when I eventually probably come back.") Eventually she sighs and leaves him alone, but not before introducing herself as Minako Okukawa. His eyes flash in recognition of the name. She was the one driving the car – Yuuri's ballet teacher or something.
There are two days until the senior division competes. Yuri holds out for another day and checks out of the inn, handing over the appropriate amount of money. He tells them he'll stay the night, though (which he pays for, of course) and that he's leaving first thing in the morning.
He lies awake in bed all night. When the inn has been silent for a while, he sneaks downstairs, finds the poodle named Vicchan, and hesitates for a moment before injecting the syringe. He hopes that he's doing it right, especially since he's done some extensive research – and when the syringe is empty, he flees, his footsteps light but ringing in his ears. He's shaking as he hides the syringe away in its case and wraps it up. What... What did he just do?
Vicchan was dying anyway. Vicchan would've died – would've been put to sleep – a mere two days later. Yuri shakes and shakes, unable to stop trembling. He hates himself. He just put a dog to sleep without his owners' permission. But he would've been put to sleep anyway – but it wasn't Yuri's place to do it –
He wails into his pillow, shaking and trembling and crying. And he reminds himself that this is all for Yuuri. Yuuri deserves to live. This has to happen.
Yuuri or Vicchan?
He knows that Victor would choose Yuuri, however difficult the choice is.
[ December 9, 2015 ]
He leaves before anybody wakes up the next morning, dark circles under his eyes. He tells Yakov that he's flying straight to the Final and Yakov starts yelling at him because what is he doing and why isn't he answering his doorbell?
But Yuri ignores all that. He still feels numb from his terrible crime, but he forces himself to keep going. He's bitter, now. He's bitter that he committed such an atrocious act for Yuuri Katsuki.
The flight to the Sochi is even longer, but he just goes over the next phase of his plan in his head. Yuuri's going to fuck up. Victor's going to win by a mile. And maybe at the banquet, Yuri'll get Yuuri drunk or something. It wasn't a necessary part of his plan, but it might be entertaining.
Oh, God, he put Yuuri's dog to sleep.
He prays to a god he doesn't even know if he believes in – prays hard – asks for forgiveness. Asks for the strength to keep going. Because there's something special about Yuuri Katsuki. Yuuri Katsuki has to survive.
He knows he's right when he watches Yuuri in person. Although he's clearly distraught and nervous (and Yuri alone knows it must be because of Vicchan's death, and he can't decide if he feels ridiculously guilty or if he's proud that his plan worked) and although he flubs all of his jumps and falls hard, Yuri can see the rhythm as he skates. He skates like his body's making music.
Of all people, Yuri thinks, Victor would appreciate that.
Victor's getting ready, so he probably isn't watching. That's okay. Yuri has plans to introduce them eventually; it's the least he can do, since he just killed Vicchan. Maybe Yuuri'll feel better after he meets his childhood idol.
He goes over the next part of his plan. Yuuri needs to hit rock bottom. He cannot go to Worlds. He needs to mess up everything.
Luckily for Yuri, he sees Yuuri go into the men's room and follows him after a few moments. Inside, he can hear Yuuri's sobs as he talks to someone on the phone in Japanese. A few moments later, he stops talking, but he continues crying.
Yuri takes a deep breath, puts on his best scowl, and kicks hard at the closed stall door. He hears Yuuri's shriek of surprise on the other end before the door unlocks. "Ah, sorry..."
"Crying?" Yuri scoffs, staring him down. Yuuri shrinks away, brown eyes big and scared. "How pathetic. Hey, just retire already, old man."
He walks away and exits the bathroom just in time to see Victor walk by, all smiles. The results were just announced, and Victor took gold yet again. Victor looks up and spots Yuri and smiles bigger. "Nice short program yesterday! Although your free leg – "
"Yeah, yeah, I got it already from Yakov," Yuri grumbles, falling into step beside his sort-of-friend. His very annoying, older-by-a-decade friend. If Yuri were pressed for it, maybe Victor's a little tiny bit like an older brother. "I just have to do well in the free skate tomorrow."
"Without quads?"
Yuri isn't sure if Victor remembers his promise or if he's just echoing Yakov's strict orders, but he crosses his arms and sulks. "Without quads," he mumbles.
Victor laughs. "Well, good luck. I'm sure you can do it."
Yuri just nods absentmindedly. He's too busy trying to figure out whether Yuuri would show up for the banquet or not. He's not at all concerned about his free skate, since he technically has an extra few months of preparation under his belt now that he's gone back in time. He'll win, no problem.
He's correct in thinking that Yuuri would be too depressed to show up for the banquet. He confirms this when he overhears Celestino Cialdini – Yuuri's coach, he remembers from his night of extensive research – talking on the phone. "See if you can drag Yuuri out of his room," Yuri overhears Celestino saying, complete with exaggerated hand gestures. "Going to the banquet might make him feel better, even. It'll be good for him. He shouldn't mope."
Who wouldn't mope after his dog died and he flubbed the first Final he's ever made it to?
Yuri snorts. Celestino's a bit of an idiot, even if he means well.
He quickly formulates a plan and goes to find Victor, who's lounging in his hotel room. Victor agrees to sign the Post-it note Yuri hands him, although not without a few questions.
"Look," says Yuri impatiently, not wanting to give away the fact that, well, he's a time-traveler from the future who's trying to use Victor's name to drag Yuuri out of his room, "just do it, alright? I'm not going to sell it on Ebay or anything."
"I wonder how much money you could get for that," says Victor thoughtfully, but signs the Post-it with a flourish anyway. Yuri grumbles a tiny thank-you under his breath before retreating out of the room, returning to his own, and writing a note in the best English he can manage.
Yuuri Katsuki, here is a new tie for the banquet tomorrow night. I hope you can attend. Attached is Victor Nikiforov's signature, because I know you are a fan.
- Signed, a well-wisher.
Yuri grimaces at how cheesy it sounds (a "well-wisher"? After he killed Vicchan?), but grabs the light blue tie anyway and slips both items into a small plastic bag. The tie was given to him by Victor, but Yuri's pretty sure he doesn't remember doing that anyway. It's a nice tie. It matches Victor's eyes.
He watches carefully as Celestino goes to rap on Yuuri's door just a few doors down, and watches as nothing happens and eventually Celestino walks away. Once Celestino is out of sight, Yuri darts out, tries to slide the bag under the door, and when it doesn't quite fit, he knocks on the door and flees back to his own room.
He feels a sense of excitement about it all and he can't help but grin when he hears a door open and close.
He doesn't want Yuuri to make Worlds, but that doesn't mean he wants Yuuri to suffer. He's not that mean.
He grimaces as he remembers Vicchan.
[ December 12, 2015 ]
Yuri wins gold, of course. He expected nothing less.
He sort of smiles for the cameras, holds up peace signs with Victor, mumbles some bullshit about loving his fans.
Well, it's not that he doesn't appreciate his fans; he's flattered, but they can be a little over the top.
He escapes to his room about six hours before the start of the banquet and lays out his suit and tie before preparing to go to lunch with Victor and Yakov. As he exits his room, Yuuri walks past, head down, and Yuri suddenly wonders what to do.
They wait for the elevator together. Well, this is awkward.
"Hey," Yuri says suddenly, and Yuuri jerks, turning to stare at him. Yuri scowls, because he doesn't know what else to do. "You... You're an old man and you suck, but your step sequences are really good. B-But don't get me wrong – you suck! You should retire!"
Yuuri stares at him with a mixture of confusion and wonder, before murmuring, "Thanks." They step into the elevator together, Yuri refusing to look at other Yuuri, his arms crossed and posture stiff. He's glad when he spots Victor lounging on one of the sofas at the end of the lobby and can't make his way over quickly enough.
"Ready to go?" asks Victor, and Yuri nods impassively. "Hey, Yakov, let's go!"
Yakov joins them from where he was chatting with some other coach – Yuri didn't recognize him – and they set off to find a small café or restaurant to eat lunch. Yuri orders a bowl of soup, a sandwich, and chocolate milk.
"How old are you?" Victor asks, looking over Yuri's tray with amusement. Yuri bristles.
"Shithead," he spits out before finding a table that would seat four. He and Victor sit on the same side, facing Yakov. Yuri gulps everything down with barely any time to breathe, ignoring Victor's concerned looks and Yakov's sighs.
Halfway through, Yakov brings up Yuuri's name and comments on how he flailed in competition. Yuri splutters and nearly chokes as he immediately glances at Victor. But Victor's not paying attention, staring at his phone instead and typing some message to a friend. Probably Christophe.
So Yuri just says, "Maybe he had a bad day."
"That's a strange thing for you to say, Yuri," says Yakov, and Yuri knows it's true. It's too empathetic of him. But he scowls at Yakov and just says,
"Maybe I'm having a bad day, dammit."
"You won gold," Victor points out, suddenly jumping back into the conversation randomly. "How can it be a bad day?"
Yuri just shrugs. "It just is." And then he stays stubbornly silent as Yakov and Victor talk about next season.
He had planned to get Yuuri drunk just for fun, but it turns out that there's no need for intervention. Yuuri did come to the banquet after all, but he's just been standing in the corner like a piece of the wallpaper, downing flute after flute of champagne.
He looks kind of miserable.
Yuri keeps a wary eye on him, wondering if he'll eventually have to step in to stop him, but he's distracted by Victor talking about how to successfully execute a quad flip. At that moment, Yuuri decides he's drunk enough to come join the conversation.
"Hey, Yuri Plisetsky," Yuri hears someone say, and turns to see Yuuri staring at him. He's obviously drunk out of his mind. He's wearing the tie. "You think you're better than me, punk?"
"Yeah, I do, shithead," Yuri spits right back. The normally shy Yuuri just crosses his arms and says,
"I challenge you to a dance-off!"
"I'm not interested – "
"I'll bet you can't even dance!"
If there's one thing Yuri Plisetsky hates, it's walking away from a challenge. So he turns around, ignores Victor's warning, and watches as Yuuri launches into some weird version of a breakdance. Now, he's not an expert in breakdancing, but he knows enough from his past teenage years. Teenagers are exposed to weird things, after all.
And so he refuses to let Yuuri out-dance him. A crowd's forming around the two of them, but he ignores them all and spins on one hand before extending a leg and nearly kicking Yuuri in the face. They go at it for a while, the room starting to become unbearably hot, and then Yuuri takes off his suit jacket and tugs on his tie. So Yuri does the same.
"Looks like fun!" shouts Christophe, producing a pole out of seemingly nowhere and somehow making sure it stays upright. "Yuuri, lookit what I can do!"
And then he starts spinning around the pole with remarkable athleticism, Yuri has to admit. He takes the chance to meld into the background and grabs a glass of water from a nearby waiter. When he looks back, Christophe's all but stripped down to his underwear and swings around the pole like – well, like a pole dancer, Yuri thinks. He's never actually seen a pole dancer, but if this is what they look like, he can't imagine he'll be going to a show anytime soon.
Yuuri joins him on the pole.
Halfway through, it happens. Yuri watches in fascination as Yuuri marches up to Victor – his idol – and grabs him by the tie. "Dance with me," he demands, and Victor's eyes go wide. "If I win, you come to Hasetsu and be my coach!"
The first time around, this banquet wasn't nearly as interesting. Victor was ridiculously bored by the end of it, forced to exchange pleasantries with everyone as the gold medalist. Yuri followed him around, also bored, watching as Victor forced smiles and kept his tone light.
This time, Victor's eyes are shining as he watches Yuuri pole dance with Christophe and a bottle of champagne. Yuri can tell that something's changing; Victor likes Yuuri Katsuki, for whatever reason.
Well, Yuri has to stubbornly admit, Yuuri is rather good at dancing. His split jumps are beautiful.
But so are his! Nothing special!
So when Yuuri has the nerve to go up to Victor and challenge him to a dance-off, Yuri finds himself internally chanting, Say yes, say yes, say yes!
And oh God, Victor says yes.
Their dance isn't nearly a dance-off anymore by the end of it. They twirl and they touch, they drop into identical splits, they ballroom dance and then they breakdance. Victor's smiling like a madman. Yuri shivers. Gross.
But he can't help the feeling of happiness bubbling up inside of him. He knows what he has to do.
This should be fun.
He takes a lot of pictures and saves them to a private album.
[ December 12, 2015 to December 28, 2015 ]
During the night, he manages to get Yuuri's number and saves his own number in Yuuri's phone as "Girl I Met at Banquet." He feels slightly insulted that he's calling himself a girl, but it's for the greater good. It might come in handy.
Yuri doesn't realize how handy it comes in until he and Victor have returned to Russia. Victor's jabbering his ear off about Yuuri again, and how amazing he was at dancing, and how he wished Yuuri hadn't flubbed his Final skate. Yuri tells Victor to shut up, shut up, and shut up some more. Victor doesn't.
They watch the Japan Nationals on television. Yuuri messes up. Victor sighs deeply and runs a hand through his hair. "I wonder how he's doing."
Yuri snorts. "He just screwed up Nationals and you're wondering if he's happy about that?"
"That's not what I meant!" says Victor defensively, putting up his hands. He places them back in his lap and looks away. "I thought... I thought he'd try to get in touch or something. I know he can skate better than this. I wonder what's going on."
Oh, God, gross. Yuri screws up his nose. "You like that excuse of a figure skater?"
Victor's eyes are bright. "He's interesting!"
"He was drunk!"
"All the more interesting!"
"Gross."
"Yuri, you saw him yourself! How could you say that?"
"Exactly! I saw him myself and I think he's gross!"
Once he was safely home in his own flat, he pulled out his phone and texted Yuuri for the first time. He hesitated for a moment before deciding that this was part of his plan and nothing could be worse than killing the damn poodle, now could it?
[ 18:05 ] Yuri Plisetsky: Hey, we haven't talked for a while. What's up?
He grimaces at the wording of the text. It's so unlike him, who usually ignores people or, when he does reply, spits cuss words at them and pretends to hate them until they either give up or drag him out of his flat.
He gets a reply rather quickly.
[ 18:09 ] Drunk Idiot: Um, nothing, I guess. Sorry, who is this?
[ 18:09 ] Yuri Plisetsky: I'm Mila. I met you at the banquet last year, remember?
[ 18:10 ] Drunk Idiot: Um... To be honest, all I remember is going there and getting drunk. Nothing else.
Yuri Plisetsky has solved the mystery! Yuuri hasn't tried to get in touch because he doesn't remember a thing.
Yuri wonders whether or not to tell Victor.
[ December 28, 2015 to March 31, 2016 ]
He texts Yuuri from time to time, always pretending to be Mila, always asking if he's okay and telling him that he should do whatever he wants to do. He always grimaces as he types these sickeningly-sweet messages, but decides that for now, this phone is like an extension of Victor. He would think about it from Victor's point of view and gently encourage – him, Yuri Plisetsky, encouraging someone! – Yuuri along.
He holds his breath as Worlds approach. He goes along with Victor although he isn't competing, and feels as though he's about to die when it gets to March 30th. He spends an entire evening refreshing and refreshing the internet, looking for any articles on Yuuri's death. He texts Yuuri, asking if he's watching Worlds, and gets no reply.
But there isn't anything about his death, and even Victor notices how much happier Yuri seems the next day. "What are you so happy about?" he asks, raising a silver eyebrow. Yuri splutters on his milk.
"Nothing! What are you jabbering on about?"
Victor just shrugs. "Never mind."
He gets a reply from Yuuri saying that yes, he had watched Victor on television and that yes, he had been amazing. He sounds a bit depressed, though. Yuri frowns. What's he supposed to do with depressed people?
[ 9:06 ] Yuri Plisetsky: Will I see you at the coming year's Grand Prix?
[ 9:10 ] Idiot Drunk: Probably not. I think I'm retiring.
Yuri slams the table so hard that Victor nearly jumps out of his seat. "Yuri!" he scolds him, but the blonde pays him no mind. He's too busy seething at Yuuri's softness. He's done so much for Yuuri – he's used up one of his three chances and he's only fifteen, he killed Yuuri's fucking poodle, he's put up with texting Yuuri fucking Katsuki even though he's a fat pig who cries in the bathroom stall – for what? For what?
For Victor.
Well, most of it, anyway.
Yuri's bitter again, because he's done all this and now Yuuri's quitting. As Victor repeatedly asks Yuri what's wrong, the blonde only types away furiously.
[ 9:11 ] Yuri Plisetsky: This is going to sound stupid but you NEED to continue you shithead
[ 9:11 ] Yuri Plisetsky: I KNOW what you're capable of, you could've made it to Worlds this year
[ 9:12 ] Yuri Plisetsky: If not for the death of your dog you would've done it okay so stop being a fucking idiot!
He realizes his mistake too late. Shit, he thinks, shit, shit, shit.
[ 9:13 ] Drunk Idiot: How do you know about my dog?
[ 9:13 ] Yuri Plisetsky: I read about him in an article last year. I'm sorry.
[ 9:13 ] Yuri Plisetsky: Even Victor thinks you have incredible potential, are you just gonna throw that away?
[ 9:14 ] Drunk Idiot: Victor Nikiforov? No way. Sorry, but I've pretty much made my decision... I don't think I can do this anymore
[ 9:15 ] Yuri Plisetsky: Goddammit, you're right you can't do this anymore because you're a FUCKIN PIG! GROW UP, SHITHEAD!
Okay, so maybe that last part isn't helping. Yuri slams his forehead onto the table and Victor asks him again if anything's wrong. He can't tell Victor about his plot. "No," he mumbles, sighing and rolling his eyes at the same time.
[ 14:19 ] Yuri Plisetsky: At least do something before you retire for good. Copy another one of Victor's performances or something
[ 14:28 ] Drunk Idiot: You know about those? I'm heading back to Hasetsu tomorrow, so maybe I will
[ 14:29 ] Yuri Plisetsky: Again, there are ARTICLES everywhere. Yeah. Do that.
Because if there's one person who can command Victor's attention, it's Yuri Plisetsky. But, Yuri thinks, perhaps Yuuri can do it, too.
Hell, anyone who Yuri pays attention to is probably worthy of Victor's time.
[ April 1, 2016 ]
"Yuri? Where are you?"
"I'm out for the day," says Yuri vaguely. He's actually in his bedroom, but he needs to concentrate on his task. Victor can't come in.
"Eh? Well, okay. I was going to ask you to come work on quads with me or something. Your senior debut is this year, isn't it?"
"Yeah, yeah," says Yuri, typing away furiously. "Next time, old man."
"Well, okay."
There's a brief silence. Yuri narrows his eyes at his laptop screen. There's one ice rink in Hasetsu called Ice Castle, and it's apparently run by the Nishigori family. There's a number on the site, and Yuri grabs his phone – only to realize that Victor's still on the line. "Hey, Victor, I'll call you back later," says Yuri, distracted.
"What? You will? Yura, do you feel alright today? You never call me."
Yuri realizes his mistake too late. "Well, maybe I'm running a fever or something – I didn't mean that! I didn't mean it! Bye!"
He hangs up quickly and inputs the number on the website before hitting "Call." The phone rings for a few seconds, and he realizes that he forgot to check the time difference. Well, it's only noon in Moscow, so it'd be...
He thinks about it for a moment, trying to remember.
Only six in the evening in Kyushu. Is that too late?
To his great relief, someone picks up. "Hello?" It's a girl.
"Hello," says Yuri in his best English, remembering to be polite. "By any chance, do you know Yuuri Katsuki?"
"Oh, Yuuri? Of course! We were childhood friends." Yuri feels like he can see the woman smiling on the other end. "Um, what's your name? Was there something you wanted me to tell him?"
"No," he says, "but if he comes in to skate, please video his performance and send it to me. It's... I can't tell you why, but it's really, really important."
"Ah..." There's a hesitant silence on the other end. "I'm not sure if I can just do that for you, especially since I don't know who you are."
Yuri grits his teeth. "If I tell you, you can't tell him."
"I won't," promises the woman, before adding, "unless it's dangerous to him."
"It's not," Yuri promises. "My name's Yuri Plisetsky, and I'm – "
"Gold medalist in the Junior Grand Prix?!" the woman shrieks, and Yuri blinks in surprise.
"Well, yeah."
There's some more screaming. Yuri waits impatiently for it to die down before saying,
"Will you please do this for me? Hell, upload it for the whole world to see if you want – I just need to be able to send it to someone really, really important. Really important for Yuuri. It'll... It'll help him get back on track, I swear."
"Alright, fine," says the woman. "I'm Yuuko, by the way. Nice to meet you, Yuri."
"Nice to meet you too?" Yuri's unsure of how to put it. The woman just laughs and tells him to have a nice day and then hangs up.
[ April 4, 2016 ]
"Watch your free leg – your free leg! It's getting sloppy – and come out of that more gracefully, could you? More gracefully, I said – not like a cockroach on hot coals!"
"Hi, Yakov!" comes a more cheerful voice. Yuri slows to a stop as his routine ends and grabs his water bottle just as Victor comes into view, bearing three coffee cups. "I brought you guys coffee!"
"Way to state the obvious," Yuri drawls, skating over to them. Victor hands him a cup. Yuri sniffs it before deciding that it's hot chocolate – and, therefore, safe to drink. He takes a big gulp and gags as the hot liquid burns his throat.
"Careful there," says Victor brightly, and Yuri wants to smack him into the nearest wall. "Wouldn't want you dying on us."
Yuri's pretty sure he hears Yakov mumble, "I don't know about that," but before he can address the matter, he hears his phone ringing. Since it's his break anyway, he steps off the ice, puts on his skate guards quickly, and hops over to check his phone. The timing is about right...
It's from an unknown number, but he recognizes the Japanese area code. He picks up. "Hello?"
"Hi, Yuri! It's me, Yuuko. I wanted to let you know that you were right about Yuuri coming here to skate the routine – and that I've got it on film. My triplets are really adamant on uploading it to YouTube, so they might end up doing that even without my permission..." Yuuko sighs. Yuri's somehow impressed that he's talking to a married woman, for whatever reason. It makes him feel old, because Yuuko doesn't sound that much older than him. "Anyway, look out for it. I just wanted to give you a heads-up."
"Yeah, thanks," says Yuri, hyperaware of the two older men glancing over at him from time to time. He'll have to hang up soon, or they'll get suspicious.
"No problem! Have a nice day! I hope... I hope you really can help Yuuri."
"Uh-huh," says Yuri, who's not about to say something like "I do too," even though he kind of – kind of! – does.
"Anyway... thank you, and good-bye!"
She hangs up and Yuri does the same, setting his phone down and returning to stand by Yakov's side. It's nearly three in the afternoon, meaning...
He does the math. It's about nine where Yuuri and Yuuko are.
"Your girlfriend?" Victor teases, and Yuri flies into an instant rage.
"No, of course not! You shithead! I'll pound you to dust at this year's Grand Prix, you hear me?"
"What does that have to do with – "
"You are dead, Victor Nikiforov! Your reign is over! I'm going to win gold at my senior debut!" Yuri's arms are crossed defiantly, and Yakov just sighs as he watches the two of them banter.
"Yuri, get back on the ice. You have work to do."
"Don't tell me what to do," Yuri bites back, but gets on the ice anyway. He runs a small section of his routine again with both Yakov and Victor watching this time. When they both try to provide their "constructive criticism," Yuri merely throws their words back in their faces and invites them to do it if they're so great.
Victor takes on the challenge and executes a flawless quad flip into a beautiful spread eagle.
Yuri silently does whatever Yakov says for the rest of the training session.
By the end, he's bruised and sore – as he usually is after his private training sessions – but he notices that he has a text from a Japanese number. He opens it and realizes that it's the video of Yuuri.
He taps it to open and sees that it was just published a minute ago. Well, if he shows Victor now, everyone will be suspicious. So he waits, grumbling about food, and only sends the link to Victor once they've parted ways.
The very next day, Yakov's pulling his hair out because Victor's spontaneously gone to Japan.
Yuri hides his smile and curses aloud for show (but also not really for show, because he remembers that stupid conversation a few days back), "That Japanese Yuuri is a total idiot!"
[ April 6, 2016 ]
Yuri's on the plane again.
It's a really, really long flight, and Yuri remembers the last time he decided to take this horrendous route. If Yuuri ever finds out what Yuri's done for him, the blonde thinks, he better be fucking thankful.
When the plane finally lands, he finds his way to Yu-topia Katsuki again via taxi and strolls in the front door. He says a polite hello to Yuuri's mother (who says, confused, "Have I seen you somewhere before?" to which Yuri shakes his head quickly) and dumps his stuff in the only remaining empty room before strolling down the street toward Ice Castle.
The eager crowd in front of the entrance proves that Victor's inside.
He pushes past them all. A set of triplets, who are intent on keeping everyone else out, clearly recognize him and let him in. Just as he gets there, someone crashes into the glass doors, breathing heavily and smiling. It's Yuuri Katsuki.
"Ah, I finally made it," he says, panting. "And I'm finally back to my weight before the Final – isn't that amazing?"
Yuri sees the three triplets trying to warn Katsuki, who doesn't notice. Irritated, Yuri lands a swift kick to Katsuki's back, sending him flying through the doors and right into the counter.
A horrified woman stares down at his limp body as Yuri approaches with no mercy. He just suffered through a twenty hour flight (okay, not quite twenty, but still) for this pig, and he turned back time for this pig, and he fucking killed a dog so that this pig wouldn't die in a fucking car crash and the pig repays him by taking Victor away?
There's a flash of recognition in Katsuki's eyes as he stares up at Yuri. "Take me to Victor," Yuri demands, and Katsuki just kind of holds his hands up in surrender.
"Alright, alright."
The woman's looking at Yuri with a puzzled expression on her face, so Yuri figures she must be Yuuko. He nods to her once before following Katsuki down the hallway and into a locker room, where Katsuki sits down and switches his sneakers for skates.
Yuri waits impatiently, tapping his foot against the ground, snapping at Katsuki whenever he even makes a sound. He feels a little tiny bit guilty for it afterward, but decides that Katsuki owes him. Owes him a lot.
They venture out into the actual rink, and Yuri spots Victor skating loops around the rink, but then he realizes they're not just loops. Victor's skating his own choreography.
"I recognize that," Yuri says quietly, and Katsuki glances over, surprised. "Those moves – they're from the short program Victor was preparing. For this year."
Katsuki looks surprised. Yuri snorts. Did the idiot think that Victor decided not to compete before he even saw Katsuki's video?
"Hey, Victor!" Yuri yells rather than addressing Katsuki's idiocy. Victor stops mid-glide and looks over before beaming and waving.
"Yuri! I'm surprised Yakov let you come!"
"He didn't," said Yuri as Victor approached them until they were only separated by the barrier. "Not that it mattered. What are you doing here? Let's go back to Russia – my senior debut is this year!"
"Yeah, so?"
Yuri gives him the best, most deathly glare he can muster. Victor almost withers, but smiles foolishly at the last second.
"Judging from that look, I forgot some promise I made, didn't I?"
[ April 7, 2016 – April 20, 2016 ]
"I'm going to beat you, katsudon," Yuri repeats over and over throughout the next few days. Katsuki doesn't seem to care. "Just you wait – I'll crush you!"
He works on finding his agape, trying to refine his movements, but he's angry. He feels like he's constantly full of anger – not that he has anger problems, because he doesn't – and he wonders how he's supposed to quell those.
Two nights before the Hot Springs on Ice event, after having sent him to temples and waterfalls and everything – and Yuri having grumbled through it all – he kind of gives up. It's not like Katsuki's made any progress, either. And if it comes down to technicals, Yuri's got it in the bag.
He's not wrong.
The day comes, and he skates well. He lands all his jumps, he glides, he soars, the crowd cheers. Katsuki's not bad either, but Yuri wonders if he understands what eros means at all. Because it sure seems like he doesn't.
He smiles triumphantly to himself. He's won.
"And the judges have counted the scores! The winner is..."
The entire room holds its breath.
"Yuri Plisetsky!"
"Yes!" shouts Yuri, throwing his arms into the air. He's happy for once. He gets his gold medal and stands on the podium a step above Katsuki, and he watches with glee as Victor starts discussing travel plans.
"I'm going to sleep," says Katsuki all of a sudden, and he gets up and walks away. Victor goes silent, watching Katsuki's back with a strange expression on his face.
Yuri looks away.
He lies in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling.
He does not feel guilty – that's not what it is! That's definitely not what it is. No – Yuri simply feels as though it hadn't even been a competition. What fun was that? It was no fun.
He could just tell Victor to stay in Japan, but that would ruin his image. Ruin his pride. They would always tease him about it, forever and ever.
And, he thinks, Katsuki would never forgive him for giving in out of pity.
He sits up and stares at his palms. This is a stupid idea, he thinks, over and over. Stupid. Stupid.
He only has two more. He's still only fifteen.
Stupid.
He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and then he's in the backseat of a cab.
