Phichit did not get angry.
It simply was not in his nature. He was a naturally kind person, on friendly terms with every single one of his rinkmates. When people gossiped about him, he smiled and looked the other way. When they were rude, he responded with great tact and kindness. In his mind, there was no use for anger. He used his time and energy in more practical manners.
But anger is different from rage.
It was the evening before the Grand Prix Final short program. All the skaters had finished dinner and were walking back to the hotel. And of course, absolutely no one was talking about the upcoming competition.
"Engaged!" Chris cried. "Seriously Viktor?"
Viktor only laughed in response, slinging one arm around Yuuri and pulling him close.
"Don't know why you expected anything less," Viktor said. "I am both ambitious and avaricious, once I set my eyes on a prize, there is no stopping me."
Yuuri cast Phichit a disbelieving glance at Viktor's ostentatiousness, but did nothing to disentangle himself from the hold.
Phichit was in a state of disbelief. He walked alongside Yuuri, attention split between Chris and Viktor's banter and the photos on his phone. Yuri had curled his lip in disgust when Phichit had asked for them, but sent them nonetheless. Now Phichit was staring at an image of Viktor and Yuuri mid-dance, blazing smiles on their faces.
Phichit gripped his phone tighter.
"Are you okay?" Yuuri asked, as they approached the hotel.
Phichit flashed his friend a grin.
"Of course I am." He forced his smile wider. "Why do you ask?"
"You seem a bit tense," Yuuri said. His eyes focused on Phichit's hand, where the knuckles had turned white.
"Of course I'm tense!" Phichit shouted, lifting his voice to a higher and hopefully more jovial pitch. "How could you have possibly done this to me!? The only way you'll get married is if you win gold. How could I ever beat you in competition? This is a terrible predicament!"
Beside him Yuuri looked away, his cheek flushed with red.
"So you'll let me win then?"
"Not a chance," Phichit said. "But I'll feel very bad when I crush you."
Phichit kept smiling, forcing laughter to rise from his chest all the way until they said their goodbyes at the elevators. Years on the ice had honed his performance skills.
Finally, he was alone. Phichit stood to the side of the hotel lobby, opening up his phone one last time to stare at the pictures.
He was happy for Yuuri. Of course, he was completely overjoyed for his friend.
But a perilous intuition had taken hold of his brain, reaching across his neurons and weaving intricate electrical signals. The puzzle pieces were clicking together, allowing one to finally view the whole picture.
And Phichit found he did not like what it revealed.
So instead of riding the elevator up to his room, he walked through the lobby, heading straight to the hotel bar.
As expected, Celestino was there, a glass of alcohol in his hand.
"Phichit," he greeted. "How was your evening?"
In lieu of response, Phichit strode over and slammed the phone onto the bar before Celestino. The image of Yuuri and Viktor dancing shone up from it.
"You knew," Phichit said.
Celestino sighed and gestured to the seat next to him.
"Take a seat."
"Why didn't you tell him?" Phichit demanded. By now his frame was shaking with the weight of his rage. He wanted to yell. To scream. "You accompanied him to the banquet. Hell, you were the one to convince him to go in the first place. And you've seen him drunk before; you know that he gets blackouts."
"Phichit—"
But Phichit wasn't listening. His mind was recalling back to a year ago; to those blank eyes Yuuri had after returning from Sochi.
"He was so defeated after last year's Grand Prix Final that he packed up his bags and left. You were there. You saw everything. I don't understand—"
"Please, just—"
Phichit ignored him. "Yuuri had admired Viktor for years. It would have been such a confidence boost—"
"He told me not to!"
Phichit blinked.
"Viktor?"
"No," Celestino said. "It was Yuuri."
The burning energy in this mind was brought to an abrupt halt.
"What?"
"Please, take a seat first."
This time, Phichit complied.
One seated, Celestino waved the bartender over. There was a glass of juice set in front of him. Phichit accepted the glass, but didn't bring it to his lips.
"I'm only telling you this because you are his friend and I know you care deeply about him."
Phichit nodded.
"You are correct," Celestino said. "I accompanied Yuuri to the banquet. I watched as he stripped himself down to his underwear and drunkenly danced with half the skaters. And afterwards, I was the one to bring him back to his room…"
Celestino maneuvered Yuuri through the doorway. The skater was utterly and thoroughly plastered, the heavy scent of alcohol rolling off of him. Celestino withheld any judgment. This was not the first time one of his skaters had gotten drunk and it surely would not be the last.
"How do you feel?" Celestino asked, once he got the hotel door closed behind them.
"Stomach hurts," Yuuri groaned. "Think I'm gonna throw up."
Celestino quickly steered them into the bathroom. They came to a stop before the toilet and Yuuri dropped to his knees to retch. Leaving Yuuri to empty the contents of his stomach, Celestino looked around the room for water. There was a glass on the bedside table. Celestino grabbed it and returned to the bathroom.
Yuuri had stopped throwing up. He was still sitting on the floor, splayed out against the white tile.
"Feeling better?" Celestino asked.
"A little."
Celestino nodded, filling the glass with sink water before handing it to Yuuri.
"Rinse your mouth, but don't drink until your stomach has calmed down."
Yuuri accepted the glass.
"Do you want to rinse off in the shower?" Celestino asked, once Yuuri had set the glass down.
"No," Yuuri said. "I'll do it in the morning."
"Okay," Celestino said. "You do remember how to take care of a hangover, right?"
"Yes," Yuuri groaned. "Lots of water and pain medication."
"And remember not to take paracetamol," Celestino said. "It'll damage your liver."
"I know," Yuuri said.
Celestino was just about to suggest that he help Yuuri to his bed when the skater spoke again.
"Can you do me a favor?" Yuuri asked.
"Do you want me to refill the glass?" Celestino asked.
Yuuri started to shake his head, but abruptly stopped, grimacing at the movement.
"No, I was just thinking," Yuuri said, resting his head against the toilet bowl. "Please don't mention this tomorrow."
"Never fear, Yuuri," Celestino beamed. "Of all people, you know I've been drunk my own fair share of times. Rest assured that I won't talk about—"
"No," Yuuri said. "That's not what I meant."
Celestino fell silent. He couldn't possibly be referring to…
"Do not say anything about what happened with Viktor," Yuuri said. "All the dancing and everything. Please never mention it again."
"What?" Celestino asked, furrowing his brow. After the crushing defeat of the final, he thought Yuuri would be ecstatic over the banquet. "Did something happen?" He paused. "Did Viktor say anything to you?"
"No," Yuuri said. "Viktor was wonderful and perfect. In fact, this has been the best night of my life. So please don't mention it tomorrow."
Celestino paused.
"May I ask why?"
"After tonight, there are two possible scenarios of what happens next," Yuuri said, holding up four fingers. "One: Viktor and I part ways and never speak to each other again. In that case, tonight would not matter at all. In that case, I do not want to remember. I really do not need another memory of…"
He trailed off.
Celestino didn't ask him to elaborate.
"And the second thing?"
"Well, if all this meant something. If it really meant something to him…" Yuuri closed his eyes, a pleasant smile crossing his features. "He'll find me later," Yuuri said. "If Viktor genuinely meant everything, he will find me again."
"Yuuri," Celestino said. "How can you be certain of that?"
"I'm not," Yuuri said. "But it's better than letting myself down again. So please don't mention what happened at the banquet. Don't do it tomorrow, or the week after, or anytime after that."
Celestino pursed his lips together, at a loss of what to do. He had been considering using tonight to motivate Yuuri through the rest of the season.
But Yuuri had a point, didn't he? Neither of them knew Viktor's true intentions. For Yuuri's sake, Celestino desperately wanted tonight to mean more than just a few empty bottles of champagne.
But they had no way to be sure.
"You know that you likely won't remember this at all," Celestino said. "Neither the banquet nor this conversation."
"Yes," Yuuri said. "I know."
"So are you absolutely certain this is what you want?" Celestino asked.
"Yes," Yuuri said. "I am."
"Okay," Celestino said. "I'll do it, but only because you think it's best."
"Thank you," Yuuri said.
Then he smiled again and said:
"Besides, I think I owe future me a surprise."
Phichit had grown quiet. He stared down at the counter.
"And then what happened?"
"Yuuri curled into a ball and promptly fell asleep right there on the bathroom floor," Celestino said. "I figured the conversation was over, carried him to his bed, and left water and pain meds on the bedside table before I left. The next morning, Yuuri had a hangover from hell. He never mentioned that conversation or the banquet again and neither did I."
Phichit shook his head.
The rage had seeped out of him, leaving him tired and lightheaded.
"Yuuri didn't remember," he said. "He just found out tonight. You should have seen his face…"
Phichit ran his fingers over the edge of the counter.
"I'm sorry for exploding at you like that."
"There's no need to apologize," Celestino said.
"It still wasn't a nice thing to do."
"But I'm glad you came to me straight away, instead of letting your emotions fester," Celestino said. "And I completely understand why you got upset in the first place. After last year's Grand Prix Final, it was… a tough situation. Of course, I did my best to support Yuuri. I even considered telling him about the banquet multiple times."
"And why didn't you?"
"Well of all," Celestino admitted. "Yuuri was not in a stable enough mental state to handle that kind of news. It would have completely mortified him, worsened his anxiety, and sent him into a deeper emotional spiral. Besides, none of us knew Viktor's true intentions at the time."
Celestino took a deep breath.
"But honestly, it became clear that what Yuuri needed was not anything I nor Detroit could offer."
Phichit fell silent.
"Yes," Celestino said. "I could have told Yuuri about the banquet, but the only beneficial thing it would have done was alleviate my own guilt, proven to myself that I had disclosed all possible details. Sometimes despite all your best efforts, despite every action you take and word you say; it is still not enough. That is not a failure of either yourself or your loved ones. It is simply a reflection of the complicated world we live in." He was quiet for a moment. "And so I refocused my efforts. If I couldn't help Yuuri, I needed to find out what could. And ultimately, that meant Yuuri returning to Japan."
"I know that," Phichit said. "And I'm glad it's all worked out. But sometimes I wonder if there was anything I could've possibly done more."
"Phichit," Celestino said, looking him in the eye. "You're already supporting him in the best way possible. All he wants, all he has ever wanted from you, was for you to be his friend."
They sat in silence for a little while.
Phichit took some sips of his juice, contemplating Celestino's words. Regardless of this conversation, competition was tomorrow and he could benefit from the sugar intake.
"So Yuuri swore you to secrecy?" Phichit asked.
"That he did," Celestino replied.
"Shame," Phichit said. "You know what I have to do now."
Celestino raised an eyebrow.
Phichit downed the rest of his juice.
Phichit grasped the microphone in his hands, blinking against the stage lights.
It was the night of Yuuri and Viktor's bachelor party.
"My dear Yuuri," he said, bringing the story to a close, "such things can only be fate. And since the very beginning, you have had incredible faith in Viktor. You had faith in his ability to find you, to support you. To love you. I think that's what I find the most impressive about your relationship: your unending devotion and trust in one another."
Phichit raised his glass high against the light.
"And so, my friend. Just as you ended that night years ago, I end this speech with one sincere wish: may your life be a never ending series of surprises."
The room erupted into applause.
Seated in two chairs pulled so close together, they might as well have been sitting in each other's laps, Viktor turned to his fiancé. His eyes were watering.
"You really said that?"
Yuuri could only manage an exasperated shrug.
"Apparently I did."
End note:
Celestino must've let out the biggest fckn sigh of relief when he heard Viktor flew to Japan.
I know I promised to work on other fics, but in my defense I have been slowly writing this since *checks notes* May 2021
To be serious for a moment, I know it's objectively funny that Celestino knew about the banquet but did nothing about it. I have laughed about this myself. However the longer you think about it, it's also quite concerning that Celestino never mentioned it. One interpretation is that Celestino is just a bad coach. However I find this to be an overly simplistic and easy write off. This fic is my analysis and interpretation of the situation.
And the truth is, sometimes despite all your best efforts, you genuinely cannot help someone. Sometimes they don't want your help. Sometimes you don't have the necessary resources. Sometimes anything you do or say will only make the situation worse. That's not to say that you shouldn't try to help your loved ones. But it also says that sometimes you just have to let go.