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When someone dies, their soul can do one of two things: it can choose to leave the mortal world for another plane, or it can stick around, remaining in the world as a ghost until it is moved by some persuasion, internal or external, to choose otherwise.
Most ghosts stay because they have some compelling interest keeping them in the world—a friend, a family member, a loved one to watch over, or a need to see science progress, or some treasure to protect. But Victor has nothing in the world keeping him here. He simply stays because he has no reason to leave.
And for the first couple years of death, it’s all fun and games. Victor quickly masters switching between visibility and invisibility at will, learns how to throw his voice and plunge the temperature of the room, and plays around with creating fog and ice.
(It’s more entertainment than he got in the last five years of his life, at least.)
And it should have continued to be fun and games! But no, the worst thing to ever happen to Victor in his entire death just has to happen.
They try to sell his house.
(“Mr. Nikiforov, I feel that I should inform you that you are dead and no longer have any legal claim to this house,” one of the real estate agency’s lawyers tells him. Apparently, this is not the first time she’s had to have this conversation with a ghost.)
Well, Victor may not be able to stop them from trying to sell it, but he can certainly stop anyone from buying it.
The door opens, and a figure steps into the foggy, freezing room. Victor smirks as he makes the lights flicker a little. He glides forward, making sure that his eyes are glowing just the right shade of icy blue.
“Kissel… Knish… Kholodets…” Victor moans eerily. “Pashka… Pelmeni… Pirozhki…”
The figure in front of him coughs and waves his hands around, clearing some of the fog.
Then he takes a deep breath and screams… No, wait, he’s yelling.
“Fucking hell, do you have to do this EVERY time someone comes over?”
“Oh, hi Yuri!” Victor says cheerfully, dispelling the fog and allowing the temperature to go back to normal. He keeps his glowing eyes, though, because they look cool. “Have you sold the house yet?”
“Obviously NOT, idiot,” Yuri growls.
“Oh, what a shame!” Victor says with a laugh.
“If you were corporeal I would so kick your ass right now,” Yuri mutters.
Victor laughs again. Yuri is the youngest real estate agent at his company, and his boss only gave him Victor’s house because nobody else could sell it. Maybe it’s because they’re both Russian, but Victor feels a certain camaraderie between them.
(Of course, no matter how much he likes Yuri, he’d much prefer the real estate agency just give up already.)
“Look, asshole, I came by to tell you that I’m bringing someone here tonight and you’d BETTER not think about pulling any shit like this on him, got it?” Yuri continues, crossing his arms sternly. “This guy used to go to college with me, and this is my first time seeing him in a while, and I don’t know why he’s so interested in this place in particular, but he’s kind of…” He gestures around with one hand. “He’s a nervous guy, okay, and if you do something stupid and give him a heart attack or something, I swear to god I will exorcise your pasty ass out of existence, understand?”
Yuri is constantly threatening him, so Victor isn’t really that concerned. But it is unusual for Yuri to threaten him on someone else’s behalf… Maybe this will be interesting.
“I’ll be good~” Victor says, floating onto his back nonchalantly. “But, hmm, a nervous man in a haunted house? I’m sure there are plenty of things that would spook him. I might not have anything to do with it.”
Yuri glares at him.
“One wrong move, Victor, and you’re fucking gone,” he warns.
Victor lets out one last laugh and then slowly goes invisible, letting his laughter echo after him.
“That’s exactly the kind of shit I’m talking about, moron!” Yuri yells.
Victor hears Yuri and his friend outside before they can enter the house, so he reluctantly wills himself invisible and doesn’t even make a little bit of fog, even though he’s so tempted to.
“Katsudon, I’m legally required to warn you that this house is haunted,” Yuri says drily.
“I know. You mentioned it before,” the other man says with a chuckle.
“Shut up. Now you can’t sue me,” Yuri says, and then he opens the door.
“We’re sneaking in this house late at night to get drunk and you’re afraid that I’m going to sue you?” Yuri’s guest, who Victor can now see is a formally-dressed dark-haired man with glasses, asks incredulously.
“I still think this is stupid and weird, but you’ve been in a slump for the past two years and if this gets you out of it, I’m all fucking for it,” Yuri mutters.
“Sorry, Yura. I know it’s strange, but…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Writing geniuses get inspired by weird shit,” Yuri says with a smile (a smile! Victor can hardly believe his eyes!) “It’s just hard to remember that you’re a genius sometimes. You know, the first time I realized you were the Yuuri Katsuki whose books I read, I almost punched you in the face.”
“As I recall, you came up to me in the bathroom and said ‘why the fuck is a bestselling author hiding his face in the back of my intro chemistry class,’ as if we weren’t both there to fill our general education requirement,” Yuuri says, returning Yuri’s smile.
“I still haven’t forgiven you for getting a better grade than me,” Yuri says, (mock?) glaring at Yuuri.
“You’ll forget all about it once we start drinking,” Yuuri insists, pulling out a large bottle of champagne.
“Excuse me, I’m not the blackout drunk here,” Yuri argues, pulling out his own vodka.
And that’s when the night gets interesting.
Because pretty soon, they both get drunk. Only, you can hardly tell with Yuri, because the only difference between drunk Yuri and sober Yuri is that he slurs his words just a little. Temperament-wise, he’s exactly the same.
Yuuri, on the other hand, looks like an entirely different person than the man Victor saw walk in.
It’s bad enough that Yuuri looks incredibly attractive without his glasses, but when he loosens his tie and then takes off his shirt, Victor feels, for the first time since his death, the stirrings of something hot inside him.
“Gross, Katsudon, put that back on!” Yuri complains. “We’re not repeating that dance-off from, what was that, my junior year? Fuck, never again.”
“Nooo, Yura, I’m not dancing for you!” Yuuri says, giggling. “I’m dancing for Victor Nikiforov!”
If Victor had been standing, he probably would have stumbled in surprise. Luckily, since he was floating, he just continues to float… in surprise.
“Who the hell is that?” Yuri asks.
(Ouch. Then again, technically Victor had never told Yuri his last name… But he’d thought he didn’t need to explain! It’s his house; everyone should already know it’s his house!)
Yuuri gasps in horror.
“How do you not know Victor Nikiforov? He’s the beeeest Russian author EVER and he’s the reason I write, didn’t you know?” Yuuri says excitedly.
“He’s Russian?” Yuri asks, frowning slightly. “I hate Russian literature. I’d never read this guy.”
“That’s terrible. You’re the worst, Yura,” Yuuri says vehemently. “I’m gonna make you read all of his stuff, but first, there’s something I need to do.”
Yuuri’s eyes sparkle as he says it, and Victor can’t help but float a little closer.
Yuuri stands up on a table and removes his pants.
“This dance is dedicated to you, Victor. Literature hasn’t been the same since you died, and I haven’t been the same, and all I want is just a little more inspiration from you.”
It’s actually fairly touching, even if it’s a bit strange to be hearing it from a drunken stranger. In his final years, Victor hadn’t felt appreciated at all, hadn’t felt inspired, hadn’t felt anything.
But now, for the first time in years, Victor feels a spark.
And maybe that’s why, when Yuuri has finished his dance, Victor finds himself slipping back into visibility.
“That was certainly the nicest dance anyone has ever done for me,” he says.
Yuuri freezes and turns to him, staring like he’s seen… well, a ghost.
Yuri, on the other hand, takes one look at Victor and jumps to his feet.
“You! I thought I told you to stay out of our way!” he shouts furiously.
Victor waves his hand dismissively.
“You actually just told me not to pull any shit! And I didn’t!” he insists. “But you know, you didn’t tell me that your pretty friend was coming to dance in my honor. I could hardly stay away.”
Victor tries to smirk at Yuuri, only he’s pretty sure it comes across more like a giddy smile.
“Victor…” Yuuri whispers almost reverently, then stumbles forward as if to embrace him.
Of course, Victor, being incorporeal and all, can only watch as Yuuri passes straight through him.
“Cold,” Yuuri mumbles, shivering.
“Put on your clothes, Katsudon. We’re leaving.” Yuri insists, glaring at Victor.
“Wait!” Victor shouts, making Yuuri pause with his shirt halfway on. “You’re a writer, aren’t you?”
When Yuuri nods, Victor continues.
“Come back… Bring whatever you’re working on, I… You said you wanted inspiration? I can help you.”
Yuuri’s eyes widen, and he nods vigorously.
“Thank you, Victor! This means everything to me!”
But then Yuri drags Yuuri away, and Victor feels like, somehow, he’s lost something.
He drops the temperature of the room and envelops himself in fog. For once, it doesn’t make him feel any better.
It’s a whole week before Victor sees Yuri again, and unfortunately, Yuuri is nowhere in sight.
“Yuraaaa, why hasn’t Yuuri come to see me?” Victor whines in lieu of a greeting as soon as Yuri walks in the door.
“First of all, what the hell? So you’re a famous author, that actually explains a lot, but what’s your deal with Katsudon?”
“What’s my deal? What’s his deal? He comes into my house, dances his way into my heart, and doesn’t even come back!” Victor continues to whine.
“Oh my god…” Yuri says incredulously, then snickers. “He doesn’t remember anything that happened that night, idiot.”
This is the worst news that Victor has ever heard (yes, even worse than hearing that his house was going on the market), and he sinks to the floor in a cloud of fog to make sure that his pain is fully appreciated.
Yuri, predictably, is not impressed.
“That’s just pathetic. Get up already,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“But… he’s still interested in the house, right?” Victor asks hopefully, not bothering to get up from the floor.
“What? No, he can’t afford this place on his shitty income. His family’s not rolling in money like yours apparently was,” Yuri scoffs. “I guess he just wanted to come see your old house because it was yours.”
“I want him here!” Victor demands, rising swiftly so he can be at eye-level with Yuri. “I want him to buy this house!”
“Are you kidding me? After all you’ve done to chase everyone away, NOW you want someone to buy the house?” Yuri asks furiously.
“Not SOMEONE, Yuuri,” Victor insists. “I won’t let anyone else buy this place! It has to be Yuuri!”
“I hate you with my entire being,” Yuri mutters darkly. He continues mumbling several things to himself, including “you can’t go to prison for murdering ghosts,” “I should never have agreed to drink with him again,” and “maybe we can lower the price if we’re guaranteed to get it off our hands.”
Altogether, Victor is very hopeful about his prospects.
“Yuuri! I’m here to help you write your next masterpiece!” Victor shouts excitedly.
Yuuri shrieks and stumbles out of the bathroom.
Hmm… Perhaps choosing to appear naked while rising out of the fog was a bit too much for Yuuri.
Oh, well. Victor will learn from this and do better next time. He and Yuuri going to be housemates for a long time, after all. And Victor intends to learn everything about Yuuri.