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Chapter Text

“Viktor! Congratulations on a stunning display!”

The reporter was short and blond, curves on her hips generously effecting her natural sway. If Viktor was the playboy the media labeled him as h might have been tempted, if he was the legal age anyway.

“Spasibo, madam.”

Viktor gave his normal media smile, turning towards the reporter and her camerawoman, steeling himself for the questions he knew that she was going to ask.

“Do you have a moment to answer some questions, Viktor?” her dark eyes were gleaming and he knew, without a doubt, that she was going to ask every single question he was preparing for.

“Oh for you madam, certainly.”

His signature wink escaped him without thought and he evened the breathing through his nose to ready himself.

“What drove you to this course of action?”

Viktor blinked at the question, wide smile falling slightly as blue eyes widened. Was she really a reporter? That question was way too broad…

“Why, I love to surprise, it is the reason that I skate, my choreographies always reflect that.”

He was being way too nice. He could have completely ignored the subtext and said something completely unrelated to what she really wanted, but…well he kind of wanted to answer the questions…

“Ahh…yes, well, um…why…” she started to stutter and Viktor smiled warmly as he flicked his long hair behind his shoulder. He knew that wasn’t what she meant to ask.

“Why-why the see-through outfit for your Short Program?”

Good job. She finally got it out but Viktor wasn’t about to start being too nice now, then all the media dogs would be out for him because they smelt blood.

“Oh? It fit my theme rather well, I think, I had it specially tailored for this performance after all.”

He couldn’t stop his wide smile from turning a tad sadistic as the reporter fumbled with her mic at his answer. She really needed to work on her wording. Maybe she was trying to be polite…

Viktor laughed at the thought, that was too different for the media, she was most likely too nervous about interviewing him.

“Did you bare your soulmark on purpose?”

That gave him pause. Finally. A question that focused on what she actually wanted to know. And, subsequently, the one he really wanted to answer.

“Yes.”

The image of his back came to mind immediately. Pale skin common amongst Russians, muscles thinly layered due to age, and most importantly, the bright white wing marks that covered the whole space of his back. Feathers even spread to his sides and the top of his shoulders.

It was a large soulmark, one he designed his whole Short Program and outfit around.

He may only be sixteen, but he wanted to meet his soulmate, wanted to have what his parents had.

“Why?” Viktor blinked rapidly at the blond reporter, he’d forgotten that she was there. A soft smile graced his face, completely different from any of his media smiles and the reporter blushed heavily at the sight.

“Because I would like to meet them of course!”

He was careful to not say a specific gender, his soulmate could be either after all, but mostly because of Russian’s weird laws on same-sex soulmates.

The reporter was stuttering again and Viktor left her with a happy “Do svidaniya” as he left for the changing room.

Plenty of cameras had caught his Short Skate today, his soulmate MUST have seen him. Seen the mark at the very least.

Viktor felt bad about the pain his soulmate would be in but it was only going to be a short while, surely his soulmate would search him out. Especially to stop the pain.

Finally.

The moment he’s been waiting for since he manifested the month before his fourth birthday.

With a slight skip in his step, Viktor couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about their meeting, disregarding the stress that should be there for tomorrow’s Free Skate.

He’d be meeting his soulmate in only a few more days. For sure.

Meanwhile in Japan…

Yuuri felt the exact moment the camera caught the full view of Viktor Nikiforov’s back. Of the skater’s soulmark.

The pain was immediate and rushed up from his waist to his shoulders in a series of pangs before combining into a dull throb.

He wasn’t entirely sure how he kept it from both Yu-chan and Nishigori, but both were watching the computer with complete focus.

Pulling tightly on his jacket, Yuuri ignored the pain, and what the pain meant, and continued to watch Viktor skate.

Watching the interview that Yu-chan clicked on, his back throbbed again. It wasn’t anything more painful than a crash on the hard ice in the rink, so he ignored it to listen to Viktor speak, crutching on the Japanese subtitles to properly understand the English.

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

Yuuri kept ignoring the pain, as he fanboyed with Yuko, as he skated with her some, doing worse than usual because of the pain; as he walked slowly home, as he ate dinner with his family, as he bathed alone, as he laid in bed looking up at the ceiling.

He thought about it briefly, thinking it was strange how his back had started hurting while watching Viktor Nikiforov’s performance.

He probably strained it or something.

Yuuri kept on ignoring the pain, learning to skate through it and continued to fanboy over Viktor with Yu-chan.

“Ne ne, Yuuri, when do you think Viktor’s soulmate will announce themselves?” Yu-chan asked suddenly and Yuuri stumbled and landed harshly on the ice as he slipped onto his back.

Idly he thought about how nice the ice felt on his throbbing back as Yu-chan bent over him worriedly. Yuuri smiled back, ignoring her hand stretched out to help him up, preferring to stay on the ice for a little bit longer.

“You okay, Yuuri?”

He nodded slowly, closing his eyes with Yu-chan now slowly skating in a circle around him.

“So when do you think?” she asked again, voice high as she sighed and skated wider around him.

“Hmmm?”

“Mou! Yuuri! Pay attention! Viktor’s soulmate! When do you think they’ll announce themselves?!”

Yu-chan’s hands were on her hips as she skated when Yuuri decided to sit up.

He was a bit confused.

“What do you mean, Yu-chan?”

Pink eyes blinked slowly as Yuuri continued to stare at her blankly. She opened her mouth to say something but then she shut it again, closing her eyes and letting her breath out slowly through her nose.

This time when she held out her hand Yuuri grabbed it and let himself be hefted up and dragged to the side of the rink.

Yu-chan was quiet as she led him off the ice, handing over his skate guards at the same time she put hers on.

Yuuri was still confused, but he knew Yu-chan would explain everything in a minute.

The older girl dragged him all the way to the locker room and sat them both on the bench in front of the TV.

She looked uncharacteristically serious and Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from fidgeting. Yu-chan wasn’t supposed to be serious, she was much too happy for that.

“Yuuri…this is important, okay?” Her voice was still light but the seriousness in her tone made Yuuri straighten and focus on her wholly. He nodded seriously to match her own and smiled when her stiffness relaxed a bit.

She grabbed his gloved hand and laced them together as her pink eyes locked with Yuuri’s brown. He would have blushed but he didn’t think now was the time for his silly crush on the girl.

“What do you know about soulmarks, Yuuri?”

Yu-chan’s question was responded to with wide brown eyes blinking rapidly.

“Um…it’s a mark that appears when your soulmate is born…and it…um…matches your soulmate?”

Yuuri gave Yu-chan a wide eyed look as he answered, looking at her facial expression to see if he was right. The older girl was smiling and nodding as she squeezed his hand tightly.

“Should you flaunt your soulmark if you have one, Yuuri?” Yu-chan’s voice was so serious that he had to look away, thinking about his answer.

Briefly Yuuri thought about Viktor’s Short Program, the white wings shown off underneath glittery fishnet, his back throbbed before he shook his head.

“No…soulmarks are private…”

“That’s right, Yuuri. It’s why I hide my hip, even when changing. Is it ever okay to show your soulmark to others?”

Yuuri blinked widely again, wondering why Yu-chan was going over this…his teachers already taught them all about soulmarks…

“Only if you think they might be your soulmate or…or if you’ve already found your soulmate…and you’re…you’re together…” Yuuri’s face was flushed as he talked about his with Yu-chan…normally friends didn’t talk about this…

“Do you know why that is, Yuuri?” Her fingers tightened on his even as he shook his head. He didn’t think there WAS a reason, just something people did or didn’t do…

“You know what your soulmark looks like, right, Yuuri?” he nodded, his was on his back but he’d inspected it in the mirror as soon as he knew what the mark actually was.

“Well…When you see you’re soulmark on someone else, your mark starts to hurt. It’s different for everyone, but it’s always painful, and it’s your soulmark’s way of telling you that you’ve seen your soulmate…And…” Yu-chan stopped talking suddenly and looked down.

This time Yuuri squeezed her fingers, hoping to make her feel better like she had made him feel better earlier. It worked when she smiled at him, though her eyes were a little wet now.

“And the pain is a punishment…for not staying with your other half, for walking away…it can get pretty painful and effect day to day life…”

Yu-chan was looking really sad again so Yuuri scooted closer and held her hand even tighter. She wrapped an arm around him and squeezed in response.

“Anyway! Viktor was being a bit selfish…okay a LOT selfish…by showing off his mark to the whole world, don’t you think?”

Yu-chan was wiping at her eyes, and Yuuri let the subject change happen as he tilted his head and questioned Yu-chan.

“Why?”

“Arg! Yuuri! Weren’t you listening?! His soulmate’s back has to be hurting like hell right now!”

Yuuri froze, thinking of the moment almost three weeks ago now, when Viktor displayed his soulmark…and when his back started hurting…

“Wh-why their back?” he questioned softly, thinking he was being utterly ridiculous for thinking what he was currently thinking.

“Really Yuuri? Viktor’s soulmark is on his back, so his soulmate’s mark is on their back…it’s pretty safe to assume Viktor’s soulmate’s back must be killing them with pain by now.”

Yu-chan started undoing her skates, getting ready to head back home, but Yuuri was frozen. He kept thinking about Viktor’s dance, his interview, his almost as see-through outfit of his Free Skate, the view of beautiful white wings on an equally pale back, accentuated with glitter and fishnet.

He thought about the sudden pang he felt after the first sight of those wings. Thought about the pain that had been his companion for the past three weeks. Thought about how silly he was being, how there was NO way Viktor’s wings matched his. No chance in hell.

“Yu-Yu-chan…what if…what if Viktor’s soulmate wasn’t watching him skate…?” Yuuri couldn’t stop the question from escaping his mouth and he completely stopped breathing when Yu-chan suddenly froze.

She looked at Yuuri slowly, taking all of him in with narrowed eyes as Yuuri prayed she couldn’t read his mind…couldn’t see what he had thought of…

Suddenly there was a contemplative look on her pretty face as she seemed to think about what Yuuri had just suggested.

“You know what, Yuuri?...You are absolutely right! We love Viktor so much that we think EVERYONE must have seen his performance, he is the new Junior Grand Prix champion after all, but he’s not THAT famous…”

Yu-chan giggled lightly as she turned on the TV, probably to the Junior Grand Prix rerun that was scheduled for today.

Yuuri gave a big sigh of relief as he turned to the TV, ignoring Takeshi coming through the door to sit next to them on the bench.

Again Yuuri pushed away the pain in his back, and the crazy thoughts in his head, and just enjoyed Viktor’s performance.

The black costume looked AMZING, and the half skirt was flowing like his long hair and Yuuri caught sight of a white wing along his the right side of his back. A sharp pain echoed through Yuuri’s body at the glimpse through the TV.

Suddenly it sunk in and Yuuri couldn’t stop the quiet “wow” that came out of his lips, eyes still following Viktor’s form even as his mind thought of something else.

‘Viktor Nikiforov is my soulmate…’

Chapter Text

Yuuri didn’t tell anyone about his revelation that he was Viktor Nikiforov’s soulmate. Not Yu-chan, not Takeshi, not his parents, or Minako-sensei.

At first it was because he still wasn’t sure. He still second guessed his thoughts even as he felt the sharp pangs in his back whenever Viktor wore another see-through costume and Yuuri saw his wings.

Then it was because he knew he wasn’t worthy.

He had watched the pain of others, those with celebrity soulmates when they themselves were not. His aunt had that problem; she was still scorned in the media for taking a famous dancer off the market. Yuuri watched his aunt receive hate mail, and messages about how she didn’t deserve the famous Kirin, even after they had five kids.

Viktor was just as popular as Kirin was, more so in fact, and Yuuri would probably have it worse than his aunt did.

So Yuuri kept quiet, and grew obsessive about his back, more so than he already was.

His parents didn’t mind buying him one of the nude colored undershirts some skaters wore. They thought it was just for performances, but Yuuri wore it all the time, terrified someone would see his back and connect the dots. Especially Yu-chan.

He also stopped changing in the same room as Takeshi and Yu-chan. He wouldn’t get into the onsen with anyone else, unless he covered his back with a large towel the whole time.

Yuuri also developed something of a phobia.

He didn’t realize it until Yu-chan surprised him from behind on the ice, and he more or less had a panic attack.

Luckily Takeshi’s older sister had a similar issue and he was able to talk Yuuri through the overwhelming feelings.

Yu-chan couldn’t stop apologizing for weeks after, even though Yuuri didn’t really blame her. He didn’t even know it would happen so why would she?

Yuuri’s obsession with hiding his back also led to conflicts in school and an inability to make friends. He insisted on changing in a bathroom stall, which lead to other boys in his class calling him a girl and more hostile things.

More and more Yuuri escaped to Ice Castle Hasetsu and Minako-sensei’s studio. More and more he practiced figure skating. More and more he tried to be like Viktor, to be as skilled and to have similar things.

Anything to make him more equal to his soulmate.

He still fanboyed with Yu-chan about Viktor, even if he fanboyed for a separate reason than because his skating was the best.

Yu-chan got him several posters of Viktor, especially ever since Yuuri managed to convince his parents to get him a poodle named Vicchan, or rather Viktor.

But Yuuri’s prized possession was a print of Viktor’s back, from the very first time the man ever showed it off in that glittering white costume. He kept it hidden under his bed and, like his back, no one knew about it.

The pain also grew easier to ignore, it pulsed every time Yuuri caught a glance of those white wings. Part of the reason why he didn’t look at his print all too often, every glance brought a sharp sting and a pang.

But besides the glances of the wings every so often, Yuuri was more or less able to ignore it and continue on with his life.

However it was a double-edged sword when it came to figure skating; the pain was fine while he was on the ice, in fact the cold felt good on his mark sometimes, but when he jumped…it seems as if the wings were punishing him for attempting to fly.

When he performed in front of crowds his mark would work with his anxiety and make him too nervous to complete them.

In practice it was easy, either he was alone or there was only one person in the rink. It was easy to keep his back hidden.

With people, hundreds of people, in every direction, looking at him from three hundred sixty degrees…he stresses so much about keeping his back hidden that he doesn’t pay attention to the routine or his jumps…not as much as he should anyway.

When he first started learning actual jumps, Yu-chan would generally pass of his wipe-outs as just nerves or his trial and error period. She would constantly tell him that he’d get it next time, he just had to keep trying.

Often Yuuri would find himself wishing Yuko was his soulmate. She would have been so much simpler than Viktor Nikiforov.

But that stopped when he turned fourteen and Yuko and Takeshi found out that their marks matched.

According to them both they followed cultural norms and were already dating when they discovered their matching marks but Yuuri wasn’t too sure about that.

It didn’t matter too much either way. Yuuri was happy for them, they had simple matches, and they knew each other before they found out they matched.

Out of consideration, Yuuri left them alone more often whenever they showed up at the rink. Instead he would head to Minako’s and lose himself in dance.

For almost a year he tried to ignore everything about soulmarks, ignored the pain, ignored what the pain meant, even ignored the fact that people HAD soulmarks.

Yuuri was so hyper-focused on skating, on ignoring the facts of his life, that he somehow ended up winning several competitions in a row. Even with his anxiety and nervousness about his back, the thought of someday standing on the same rink as Viktor drove him.

That was the only thing that drove him; of someday being worthy of Viktor, of standing on an equal footing, of someday being well-known enough that he could show Viktor his matching back.

When he sat down with his parents, after graduating from high school at seventeen, to talk about his future, Yuuri expressed a strong desire to continue his education in America and get an actual figure skating coach.

Celestino Cialdini reached out to him after Yuuri actually started looking. The coach convinced him rather easily that Detroit was the place to go, and a few months later he was all packed, saying goodbye to his parents, Mari, Yuko and Takeshi, and his beloved Vicchan.

Yuuri was going to miss all of them, but Vicchan was a whole other level. Vicchan was more than a dog; he was Yuuri’s closest friend, companion, and confidant. Vicchan was the only one who’d ever seen his back, and the poodle comforted him when the pain would suddenly get too much.

Detroit was actually quite fun, a new experience, and helped Yuuri get some more actual experience in speaking English.

And the April after he turned twenty brought Yuuri the first friend he’d ever made by himself, Phichit Chulanont.

They moved in together shortly after their friendship began, but while it brought Yuuri some happiness to share his space with a friend, he was also back to obsessively hiding his back. Especially around the social media crazy Phichit-kun.

It was…nice.

For a while, about a year or so, Yuuri actually forgot about his soulmate and the pain in his back. Yuuri just enjoyed his friend and learning and the joy he had had when he was young for skating. Landing a jump wasn’t something he needed but one that he enjoyed.

Somehow that all lead to him making it into the Grand Prix Finale.

When he found out, Yuuri didn’t believe it. He honestly thought there was a judging mistake or something similar…but no…

Phichit-kun congratulated him, Celestino worked him harder, and overall…Yuuri was still trying to accept the fact that he was going to be skating on the same rink as Viktor Nikiforov.

Yuuri was a bundle of nerves all the way until the day of the finals. He woke up relatively calm, not one thought strayed to his wings, to Viktor, to the anxiety of being on a world stage.

His mother called just hours before the final was set to start, and he was glad for it. He would get to hear her voice and some reassurances in comforting Japanese before he took to the ice in one of his most important skates of his life.

None of those things happened.

Instead he was greeted with her crying barely able to explain that Vicchan had just passed in his sleep.

Yuuri almost dropped the phone when tears started down his cheeks.

What was he even thinking? He was off chasing the fanciful idea that Viktor was his soulmate, that the Russian would accept him if he was in the Grand Prix Final. How ridiculous.

He remembered very little of the actual skating. Viktor went first, for once his top wasn’t see-through in any way, and that thought started the pain.

Yuuri performed during the peak of the pangs travelling down his spine, his wings punishing him for his attempt to fly while his match was RIGHT there. He flopped every single quad and only managed to land a single triple.

Skating off the ice after his Free Skate, Yuuri had no delusions about how he had placed, regardless of what he wanted when he qualified. But he was still shocked to see the actual scores up on the screen.

His heart collapsed in on itself when he saw Viktor’s name in the top spot, for the fifth year in a row, and then trailed down to his own score. One hundred points behind in sixth place was his name in English, Yuri Katsuki…

Idly he noticed that they spelt the Romanji wrong but it was just something in the back of his head.

Almost by habit Yuuri was on his phone, looking at the articles that were already up about his performance.

‘Retiring?’

Should he retire?

“Yuuri! Don’t pay any attention to the articles! We just need to work harder for next year’s Grand Prix Series!”

He heard Celestino’s voice, wasn’t really paying attention to what he was saying. It was kind of like white noise in the background to the photos of all his flops.

Yuuri stood suddenly, the sting in his back causing him to wince as he headed away from the waiting area.

“Excuse me…bathroom…”

Celestino’s loud sigh was clear over all the ambient noise and it just made Yuuri feel even worse than he already did.

Phone clutched in his hand, he sequestered himself in a bathroom stall and called his mother…hopefully she wasn’t sleeping…

“Eh? Live viewing? How embarrassing~”

Yuuri tried to stay upbeat, to not make his mother worry as she always did…especially with the news from earlier in the day.

“I’m sorry…”

A shooting pain up his spine made the tears spill over and Yuuri ended the phone call to his mother’s constant questions about his well-being.

He was such a bad son, hanging up on her like that, but he couldn’t deal with her hearing him breaking down…

A chance to make himself equal to his soulmate, the perfect chance to just blurt out the truth, and Yuuri ruined it, like he ruined everything.

Viktor shouldn’t be tied to someone like him, someone who couldn’t even land a triple when it counted…someone who’d never even be close to being on the same level as him…

The best male skater in the world deserved someone who’d at the very least won silver…maybe even bronze…not someone who was last place…one hundred points behind…

Yuuri tried to keep his voice quiet, to stop the sobs from escaping, but it did nothing.

His mind had already stopped controlling his emotions.

A dark cloud was there, ready to encase Yuuri inside of it, but it was suddenly dissipated by a loud BANG against the stall door. He couldn’t stop the squeak or the involuntary jump that resulted from the sound.

Good job, Yuuri, taking up a stall when someone else needed it. Selfish…

“I’m sorry…”

Yuuri didn’t expect the short blond that greeted him right outside of the stall door.

Yuri Plisetsky. Junior Grand Prix Champion. Like Viktor was.

The blond started yelling at him in a mix of English and Russian, very intimidating for someone so much shorter than Yuuri.

Watching the younger man walk away so gracefully he couldn’t help but think Yuri was right.

There were so many young upcoming skaters that could easily take his place. He was hardly anything special; he just had a lot of free time to practice. Maybe it was for the best that he retires.

Yuuri sort of listlessly changed out of his costume, collected his stuff, and got ready for an early flight back to Detroit with Celestino.

His back was back to being the dull throbbing that he’d long since learned to ignore. The pain never made him fail, that was just an excuse to make up for all of Yuuri’s failings.

When Reporter Morooka approached him as he and his coach were leaving, he gave vague answers, slightly insulted that this man was assuming things.

He was right, but that was completely beside the point.

There was a woman right outside who was holding a poodle…it looked so much like Vicchan…Yuuri’s eyes started tearing up again and he tried to keep everything at bay until he was somewhere a bit more private.

“Yu-ri.”

The voice that said his name made Yuuri snap his head to the side, eyes wide as the profile of Viktor Nikiforov greeted him.

Was he-?

But then the Russian Yuri was visible and Yuuri deflated.

Of course not.

Viktor didn’t even know him, beyond being a fellow skater. He had no reason to be talking to or about Yuuri. How ridiculous.

But Yuuri couldn’t move his eyes from Viktor’s back, even as Reporter Morooka kept talking. It was almost as if Yuuri could see the wings that were under that red and white jacket.

He wanted to cry.

If he’d…just…turn…or something…

Suddenly Yuuri wasn’t looking a silver hair and a broad back, no, bright blue eyes were locked with his own…maybe…maybe Yuuri could still tell him?

The smile that stretched across that pretty face was something Yuuri had seen many times before on TV and his heart stopped…Viktor was smiling at him? Did his under shirt slip, did Viktor see his wings?

“A commemorative photo?”

His voice was just like on TV, maybe a bit deeper…wait, what?

“Sure!”

The blue eyes were closed and the smile stretched and Yuuri could hear his heart shattering in his chest.

Wings pulsed on his back and he winced.

Viktor didn’t even know who he was. How could he ever think that he could be Viktor’s partner? His equal?

How ridiculous.

Yuuri turned away, ignoring Coach Celestino, ignoring the “don’t you want a photo, Yuuri?” from Morooka, ignoring the heat of those blue eyes on the wings hidden under three layers.

Walking away was the hardest and most painful experience of his life. Yuuri’s wings pulsed and ached, feeling as if they were trying to rip themselves off of his back and fly over to Viktor.

But he wasn’t going to go over there. He would not turn back, he would not tell Viktor about his wings. He would not.

Because Viktor deserved more than sixth place.

Chapter Text

Viktor was so sure that his soulmate would be in his arms after no more than a week after his Junior Grand Prix State. Surely.

A few days after it, a woman approached him. She was in her twenties or there abouts and straight out called him an asshole for causing her so much pain these past few days.

The grin on his face could have outshone the sun he was so deliriously happy.

Immediately he asked to see the mark.

Her own happy expression flashed to something sickening before she tried to steer the conversation elsewhere. Viktor was suspicious but who would lie about their soulmark like that? So he let it slide and started talking to her while they walked to the rink.

Even if he just found his soulmate he did have practice. Besides, Yakov would want to meet her for sure, and he wanted to get to know her too, before anything went too far.

He’d dreamt of meeting his soulmate, how they’d have enough in common, how they’d talk for hours, that they’d click right away and he would finally have someone by his side.

She wasn’t anything like that.

When he asked a question, to get to know her, she’d always turn it to something material. How soon could they move in together, how long would Viktor skate, how much money he made, could he make more than that?

Viktor had never felt more awkward than he did during that walk. Maybe seeing his mark on her would help?

Speaking of…

When they reached the front of the rink he wondered why she hadn’t kissed him yet.

She said she was in a lot of pain, so why didn’t she ask to kiss him to make it go away?

They had walked all the way inside the rink when Viktor asked about it.

“Why haven’t you asked for a kiss yet?”

He watched her blink in confusion, a slight, ever so slight, sneer flitting across her face very briefly before she answered.

“You’re too young for that kind of thing, dear.”

Immediately after she said that she turned to introduce herself to Yakov, who had wandered over when he came in, and Viktor’s rinkmates.

But Viktor wasn’t done.

“But-”

“Please, darling, I’m trying to meet the people in your life.”

“I know, but-”

“Really, Viktor, we’ll have to work on your manners if we’re going to be together.”

“Please, just-”

“Hi! I’m Viktor’s soulmate, my name is-”

Viktor didn’t let her continue, pissed off that she kept cutting him off, and the fact that she wouldn’t show her mark to him.

And especially so because she claimed she was in so much pain.

He yanked her shirt up and growled at the pale, EMPTY back that was presented to him.

Suddenly her smile wasn’t inviting, or nice, and the stilted conversation made sense.

She LIED about being his soulmate.

 It was lucky for HER that Yakov knew him well enough to push her out of the rink before Viktor could hurt her.

Soulmarks and their mates were precious. They were important, you didn’t just LIE about them.

Yakov told him to take the day off, to decompress some from the stress this situation must have caused, like the coach knew what Viktor was feeling.

But Viktor didn’t WANT to take a day off. He wanted to get rid of his frustration by doing something he loved. Replace the absolute HATE he was feeling with something more positive.

While Viktor was angrily lacing his skates and glaring at the ground, Yakov talked to his rinkmates. He heard his coach apologizing but all his rinkmates waved off his apologies.

Every single one gave Viktor a comforting pat as they slowly left the rink, leaving just Yakov and Viktor in the cold hall.

Viktor didn’t want their comfort, he wanted to skate away his pain. He wanted to put all the emotion into something productive and not destructive.

Yakov stopped him from getting on the rink with a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t-” Viktor’s voice was rough and deep and the coach’s eyes widened at the sound before softening, for once.

“Just don’t hurt yourself, Vitya. She’s not worth you’re whole season.”

That was so like Yakov. Not letting Viktor’s emotions get away from him even though he really really wants them to.

Instead of arguing, as was common with their relationship, Viktor just nodded and watched silently as Yakov walked out of the rink, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck as he stepped into the Russian cold.

For a moment all Viktor did was breathe in the chilly air of the rink, thinking about how excited he was this morning. How excited he was to meet his other half sometime soon, be with someone who’d love him whole-heartedly and someone he’d love wholly in return.

Viktor just wanted what his parents had had.

Was there something wrong with that? Was there some greater rule that said revealing your mark was grounds for absolute heartbreak?

Viktor stepped on to the ice heavily, his mind not on his actions but on how ecstatic he had been when that-that woman said she was his soulmark match.

Without considering the fact that he really shouldn’t be doing jumps in his emotional state, Viktor was flying into a triple flip, his favorite.

He was conscious of his wings, the beautiful mark he’d had since he was four, and every jump felt like his mark was helping him fly.

For the first time in twelve years, Viktor’s wings didn’t keep him afloat.

The crash into the hard ice wasn’t something he’d experienced in quite a long time and Viktor was practically in shock.

He flubbed a jump…a triple…something he’d mastered and loved YEARS ago, before he became the Junior Champion…

Viktor lay on the ice, his side stinging from the harsh landing. Quickly he checked his body, moving ever single part of his body to check for severe injuries.

With all body parts okay, if a bit sore, Viktor flipped onto his back, staring up at the tall ceiling with blank eyes.

Cold seeped into his body through his work-out clothes and chilled pale skin and almost froze his muscles.

It didn’t even occur to Viktor that his emotions would be released in any other form than skating.

Until he felt the wetness on his cheeks.

Viktor was wearing gloves, so touching his cheek would have done nothing, but he knew without having anything to verify.

Tears were rolling down faster and faster and Viktor couldn’t hold in the sobs as he rolled over on to his side. He buried his face into his gloved hands and just let it all out.

It only took a few minutes of heavy crying for Viktor to feel a bit better.

He got up off of the ice and slid around for a little while, warming himself up through exercise. Viktor didn’t attempt another jump, too afraid that his wings would falter again and he’d actually hurt himself this time.

That day marked the hardest day of Viktor’s life, but gave precedent to several others who tried to claim he was their soulmark match.

Mostly women attempted it, women in their twenties and one woman in her obvious thirties. But after the first time, Viktor only humored them until he saw their backs, he wouldn’t let someone trick him like that again. No need to get his hopes up for a fake.

News stations around the world caught on to his ‘crazy dating’ ways and the label of playboy was now synonymous with his name, regardless of his feelings about it. Viktor didn’t really care though; he didn’t believe a single one of those women. He learned his lesson. He wasn’t going to let himself be crushed like that again.

It was much easier to pretend to be a playboy.

When Viktor turned nineteen, a man claimed to be his soulmate.

He wasn’t Russian, and maybe that’s why he did it, but Viktor was incredibly careful with this man and his claim.

Viktor didn’t care if his soulmate was male or female, but the Russian government did.

The man was still being vetted when the news found out about him.

Some stations said that this man was just another of Viktor’s conquests, but other claimed that Viktor wouldn’t chance his country’s scorn by dating a man. It HAD to be his soulmate.

But days later, a bare back made that all pointless and Viktor kicked the man to the side.

However now women AND men were stepping forward, claiming themselves as Viktor’s REAL match.

After playing along with a few of them, Viktor started sending them all to Yakov. He was tired at twenty-three. Tired of the lies. Tired of constantly showing his mark and getting nothing but fakes. So he had Yakov checked their backs, every single claim. He was done playing around.

When he turned twenty-four, Yakov approached him with a young man. He was a few years younger than Viktor, blond with the loveliest shade of green eyes.

His name was Heinrich, a German university student who was studying in Moscow at the moment.

Viktor looked at the man blankly, sending a questioning glance to Yakov as he did. The old man had a look on his face, one that Viktor wasn’t sure he could figure out.

He didn’t have much time to do so when the man, Heinrich, had launched himself at Viktor for a kiss.

Blue eyes blinked rapidly, shocked at this man taking his first kiss, before Yakov pulled the man away. Viktor was caught between shock and anger when the man spoke.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted the pain to go away.”

Now Viktor was shocked for a completely different reason. Another person claiming to be his match? Viktor glared at Yakov, angry that his coach let this man so close to him.

Viktor was preparing to yell at Heinrich, ready to pull the man to pieces for daring to take his first kiss, but then the blond turned and lifted his shirt.

His mouth dried up and his eyes softened as Viktor took in the wings on the smaller blond’s back. Familiar wings. Wings that were on HIS back.

“You’re-”

“Your actual soulmate, yes.” The blond turned again and was smiling brightly and for once Viktor wasn’t irritated. He was so fucking happy.

Before he could think about it, Viktor wrapped the German blond in a tight hug and whispered “finally” over and over again.

Yakov was still skeptic, even after Viktor and Heinrich had dated for six months. But the old man was there for seven years of Viktor’s emotional pain, so that was easy to understand.

Despite knowing that Heinrich was his match, and having the mark to prove it, Viktor still wanted to go slow, fall in love and get to know his soulmate before they went any further.

Heinrich was a very soft-spoken man, quiet but happy and he had no qualms attending every single skating event with Viktor.

Neither of them introduced each other as their soulmates, but as a partner instead. And that was nice for Viktor.

Every single one of the prior claims wanted to jump in to everything, wanted to be known as Viktor Nikiforov’s soulmate. Not Heinrich, he was more than happy to get to know Viktor and move slowly, learn each other and fall in love naturally.

After a year of dating, on Viktor’s twenty-fifth birthday, they both decided to take the final step and make love.

They went out to dinner, walked along the water and retired to Viktor’s apartment.

The whole night was everything Viktor wanted, everything he was looking for when he first heard about soulmates from his parents.

Finally. He had what his parents had had. All he ever wanted. Someone to share his life with.

A month and one more Grand Prix Gold later, Viktor was talking with his rinkmate, Mila, who’d found her soulmark match very young. He was telling her about his Heinrich, how they’d met, all the issues Viktor had gone through before that.

And he told her that he was going to propose later tonight. So Viktor could dedicate his upcoming skating season to his fiancé.

“Hey, what’s he look like?”

Viktor perked up and took out a small photo he kept close to him while skating, showing Mila with a soft smile. He expected many things in reaction but the frown that graced her young face wasn’t one of them.

“Hey…Viktor…do you love him?” she asked somewhat seriously, and Viktor frowned too.

“Of course I do.”

“Would you forgive him no matter what?”

Viktor was confused as to why Mila was talking this way, but he humored her anyway. She was one of his favorite rinkmates after all.

“Of course, I love him…why are you asking, Mila?”

“I’ve seen him before, is all.”

“Where?”

“He’s a regular at the tattoo shop down the road from mine and Ana’s apartment…Every three months or so he comes down the street…”

Viktor blinked at Mila, taking in her posture and reading the obvious worry she was trying to hide.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mila. Heinrich doesn’t have any tattoos. I didn’t think St. Petersburg even HAD any tattoo parlors…”

Viktor frowned as Mila handed back the photo and skated a bit aimlessly around Viktor’s prone form.

“Yeah, there are three actually, Ana has a few. But the one down the road has a sort of…seedy reputation.”

“Hmm…Hey, Mila…feel free not to answer…but…”

“Go ahead, Viktor, I have no couth. I’ll answer anything.”

Her bright smile as soothing but it didn’t stop the doubt that was now working its way through Viktor’s body.

“How did you and Ana meet?”

Blue eyes widened and for a moment Viktor felt guilty, but he had to know. He needed to know if Mila’s relationship started like his did.

“Oh, well. Let’s see. It was right after I performed in one of the regional competitions. I was, oh thirteen? And my costume wasn’t SUPPOSED to show my hip, but the costume was a bit big and it slipped. Ana approached me after the event and kissed me.”

Viktor felt some relief at that, it was so similar to him and Heinrich, just without Yakov. He’d have to apologize to his soulmate for doubting him.

“I was really surprised but Ana apologized, introduced herself, she IS three years older after all, and said the pain was too much.”

“Just like Heinrich and me.” Viktor smiled widely, glad that his worry was for naught. But his smile slipped at Mila’s look of sadness.

“When she showed me the purple butterfly on her him that matched mine, the pain that shot from my mark was unforgettable. I kissed her seconds later to stop the pain. We’ve been together ever since.”

Viktor stopped. Stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped functioning.

Mila felt…pain? When she saw Ana’s matching mark?

“What?”

“Viktor…didn’t your back hurt when you saw his wings? Your wings on him?” she asked so sadly, looking at Viktor with such sadness that Viktor wanted to cry. He just shook his head.

“Oh, Viktor…”

“Why…why did you feel pain?”

“Because…Viktor I saw my mark on HER body…that’s how it works…”

“But-but you had already kissed…”

Viktor slumped suddenly, legs giving out beneath him as the thought was sinking in. Mila sat down next to him on the cold ice, wrapping her thin arms around his shoulders.

“Ana kissed ME, because SHE saw HER mark on me. That’s how it works. I kissed HER because I saw MY mark on HER. You feel pain when you first see the soulmark, regardless of how many kisses you’ve shared.”

They sat there together for a while, Mila comforting the elder and Viktor still trying to swallow all of this information.

“Why-” his voice cracked but Viktor kept on, “why doesn’t everyone know that?”

“It’s a soulmate secret; I guess…something we keep to ourselves…”

“He lied to me…” Viktor was numb as every part of his and Heinrich’s relationship flashed through his mind. Their whole relationship, their partnership, was based on a LIE.

“No wonder Makkachin didn’t like him…”

“I’m so sorry Viktor…”

“It’s okay, Mila. Better now than years down the line…thank you for answering my questions.”

Viktor stood and skated wobbly to the edge of the rink, waving off Yakov as he put all his stuff together and left. The thought of Heinrich in his apartment…with Makkachin…it nauseated him.

How DARE he? How DARE he mess with Viktor like this?!

He slammed the door open, and Makkachin was off to the side of the door as she often was when he was out of the apartment. She licked his hand and Viktor gave a tight smile to his beloved poodle before the anger took over again.

“Vitya! You’re home early!”

Heinrich came out of the kitchen, smiling. Which dropped at the look on Viktor’s face.

“Vitya? What’s wrong?”

“You don’t get to call me that.” Viktor spat out and watch apathetically as the hurt flicked across Heinrich’s face.

“Viktor…wha-?”

“You LIED to me.” Viktor hissed, anger rising at the flash of guilt that showed on that once perfect face.

“What do you-?”

“DON’T. Just don’t.”

“But, Viktor-”

“STOP. Heinrich. Our marks don’t match, do they?” his voice was lower, the hurt bleeding through even as Viktor tried to hold on tightly to the anger that was still bubbling.

“Of course they do! Your wings are on my back!”

“You lied AGAIN!” the sadness showed in every movement he made and Viktor felt the tears pricking in the corner of his eyes.

“It’s a tattoo, right?”

“What?! How could you-”

“You go to the tattoo parlor down the street from Mila’s apartment.”

Blond eyebrows furrowed and soft green eyes hardened with steel that Viktor had never seen before as he glared at the Russian.

“You’re believing HER?! Over me?! I love you!”

“YOU LIED TO ME!”

Viktor’s voice was loud, it had Makkachin whimpering as she curled around Viktor’s feet and Heinrich took a step back at the sheer anger in the voice.

Finally it seemed like Heinrich was done lying, his face contorting in disgust.

“So what?! You fell in love with me anyway! Why should matching marks dictate our lives?! We’re in LOVE Vitya!”

“NO! I fell in love with a LIE! Matching marks was how our relationship started! WE started because of a damn LIE!”

“Vitya-”

“STOP CALLING ME THAT! What’s going to happen when your match comes along?! You’re going to be happy but I’ll be fucked because YOU decided to TRICK ME! And for what, Heinrich?! My money?! My fame?! WHAT DID YOU WANT FROM ME?!”

“NO ONE WILL COME ALONG! I DON’T HAVE A SOULMARK!”

Viktor stopped at that, looking at the huffing Heinrich with a blank look.

“I don’t HAVE a soulmark. So I took control of my own fate. What’s wrong with that?” Heinrich was quieter now, looking to the side with hurt but Viktor found that he didn’t care.

“So you decided to ruin MY life?”

“I didn’t ruin it, Viktor! You fell in love with ME! Without me having a mark!” Heinrich looked so hopeful that Viktor couldn’t stop the heavy sigh from escaping.

“Our relationship started because I THOUGHT our marks matched. But they DON’T. Our whole relationship was a LIE. Don’t you GET that?”

“Viktor-”

“If you can lie to me for over a YEAR about something so BIG, and do everything possible to KEEP me in the DARK, how could I EVER trust you?”

“Viktor…”

“Get out, Heinrich.”

“Wait, Viktor-”

“GET OUT! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU EVER AGAIN!”

Faster than Viktor had ever seen the German man move, Heinrich had his few belongings collected and was walking out the door.

“For what it’s worth, Viktor, I did love you.”

Once the door had shut the tears started falling from Viktor’s eyes. He slumped onto the ground, crying his eyes out and sobs escaped from his throat. Makkachin whined and cuddled into his side. Viktor wrapped his arms around the fluffy dog and kept crying.

“No…no you didn’t…”

Viktor took a week off from practice, only texting Yakov that he needed some time.

Mila was expecting Viktor to come back completely broken, but she didn’t feel bad for telling the older man, the closest she had to a brother, the truth.

But one week after Viktor kicked Heinrich out, he came back to the rink all smiles and refused to even utter Heinrich’s name. Those that knew him knew that this was Viktor’s way of coping and left him be.

The next two years were a whirlwind.

Yuri Plisetsky brought Viktor someone new to focus on, and despite his prickliness, the young skater was GOOD for Viktor’s mentality.

And soon Viktor was practically over Heinrich and his deception, but he’d still changed from it all.

Viktor refused to accept anyone claiming themselves his soulmate. He didn’t flaunt his mark anymore and he continued to flirt with the masses.

His soulmate deserved someone who wouldn’t stray, who wasn’t easily tricked and didn’t give himself to the wrong person.

Heinrich had taken so much from him. His first kiss, his first date, his first time, all the things he was saving for his other half.

So Viktor stopped looking. If his soulmate found him and still wanted him despite the fact that he was unfaithful then Viktor would cry and be the happiest man in existence. But until then, Viktor swore off love.

Yuri’s last season as a junior skater was the year that Viktor dedicated his Grand Prix performance to his unknown soulmate.

[Stay Close to Me] was the ultimate expression of his desire, even as he danced it with the aura of a playboy. He knew what it meant. That’s all that mattered.

It wasn’t a surprise when he won. Nothing surprised him anymore, but Viktor was still glad that the performance that meant the most to HIM received such a high score and his fifth gold medal.

As he, Yakov, and Yuri were leaving, he couldn’t stop himself from berating the younger just a little bit. He was way too impatient.

“Yu-ri.”

Yakov liked to laugh in his head about Viktor attempting to criticize someone when he himself never listened to a coach no matter what. But Viktor did it anyway, because it was fun.

As he was going over Yuri’s sequencing, Viktor felt something heavy on him. Like the heavy wool coat he wore in the freezing Russian winters.

He turned around suddenly when Yakov took over the lecturing of Yuri. Viktor was greeted with soft sad brown eyes and his breath stuttered at the shallow similarity to Heinrich…just another fan…Viktor smiled widely.

“A commemorative photo?”

Viktor watched the range of emotions that flashed in those brown eyes with a sense of relief. Heinrich wasn’t so emotional.

“Sure!”

Never before had someone walked away from him, idly he watched as the stranger did just that and he wondered who he might have been.

But his attention was pulled away by Yuri. Besides. It’s not like he’ll ever see the strange man again anyway.

Chapter Text

Yuuri wasn’t sure what he was feeling at the moment. He had just walked away from Viktor Nikiforov. From his soulmate.

Who did that?

Everyone wanted their perfect match, if they were lucky enough to have one. And Yuuri was in pain, all the time, so Viktor WAS his…so why didn’t he just…take a chance?

‘Because I’m a coward.’

He didn’t want to be so weak but…he wasn’t worthy to be paired with Viktor…not a no name skater like Yuuri who Viktor didn’t even recognize as someone he just skated against.

A hand on Yuuri’s shoulder made him jump, whirling around with wide eyes. Who on earth?

Oh.

It was just Celestino. Looking sad despite the wide smile on his face. It just reminded Yuuri that he wasn’t the only one disappointed by his performance.

“Come on, Yuuri. Let’s get back to the hotel, we have to get ready for the banquet, and there is an early flight tomorrow, you know…”

Yuuri thought his coach would let him go after that, but Celestino kept his large hand on Yuuri’s small shoulder as they walked to the cab that was waiting.

He always wondered about cabs at events like this. How did the drivers decide who was taking the skaters and who would grab the audience members? First come first serve? Fight to the almost death? Draw straws?

Instead of thinking about his failures, Yuuri contemplated the cabbie question for the entire ride to the hotel, no matter how short the ride actually was. Celestino stayed quiet as well, so Yuuri was able to completely focus on his question without any distraction.

He could tell that Celestino wanted to talk, probably about the future; trainings, competitions, retiring…

Yuuri didn’t WANT to stop skating. But he was twenty-three, he had only just had his first chance at the Grand Prix Finals and he had flopped terribly, so why should he continue on the professional circuit?

The Japanese Nationals were only a few weeks away, and Yuuri would be participating for sure…so maybe he could decide his future depending on those results?

Seemed like a good plan actually…for once he had one of those…

Before he knew it, the cab was pulling up to the hotel and Celestino was shaking Yuuri out of his thoughts.

They collected the suitcase that had Yuuri’s gear in it and headed quietly to the elevator.

Celestino didn’t seem like he wanted to start any conversations so Yuuri stayed quiet. He didn’t want to get the passionate man started when all Yuuri wanted was to crawl into the hotel bed and finish crying before he had to go be social.

Never before had Yuuri been glad of his coach forking out the extra money for two rooms than now.

Celestino may have known of his anxiety and self-confidence issues, but like hell would Yuuri let the man see him cry.

He was weak and a coward, but he did have some pride.

“Yuuri.”

His coach’s voice, his serious voice, stopped Yuuri in his tracks, hand frozen on the door to his hotel room.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he looked over at his coach, making note that Celestino had his serious face on to match his serious voice. Uh-oh.

“We’ll talk about where to go from here tomorrow, alright? We’ll leave tonight for the banquet.” his normally upbeat voice was stern and Yuuri swallowed heavily.

He knew he wasn’t going to get out of the “future talk”. Yuuri had no idea why he’d ever thought he could.

So with swallowed pride, what very little of it that he actually had, Yuuri nodded quietly before escaping into his room.

Shutting the door as fast as he could, Yuuri laid his head against the fake wood breathing in short little bursts as he listened for Celestino.

A heavy sigh reached Yuuri’s sensitive ears and he couldn’t stop the clenching of his heart beating like a jack rabbit in his chest. Celestino was disappointed in him. He’d done something wrong in that interaction…dammit…

Maybe Yuuri couldn’t do anything right…

The Russian Junior, Yuri, was right. There were plenty of good, great even, upcoming young figure skaters that would replace him…Yuuri just needed to let go of the tight grip on his unrealistic plans for the future…

A sharp pain travelling from his lower back to his shoulders, slowly spreading out to encompass the entire area of his wings, reminded Yuuri why he loved skating so much.

Not only did the ice give him relief, but it gave him a connection. To Viktor, to Yu-chan, to his parents, to everyone that watched him perform. A connection without the heaviness of social interaction.

Figure skating gave him an outlet for all his emotions, a chance to show the world what it was like to be Katsuki Yuuri.

And it brought him closer to the idol he’d looked up to, regardless of their soulmate status. Yuuri had admired Viktor’s skating, his ability, his beauty, his everything, long before he accepted the fact that they were soulmates.

Honestly, Yuuri really didn’t want to do anything else but lay down on his bed and cry himself to sleep right now, but Celestino would burst down the door in a few minutes if he wasn’t ready to leave when the man knocked.

For some reason the coach thought he had timing issues…

So with a great sigh for himself, Yuuri shuffled over to the closet of his hotel room, grabbing the suit that was hanging up.

Laying it down on one of the beds so it wouldn’t wrinkle, Yuuri unzipped his track suit jacket and threw it over by his suitcase. He never packed until right before they left for the flight, so it was a common occurrence.

He wasn’t being careful at all as he shucked his track pants and threw them over to the matching jacket, but then Yuuri was trying to keep all thoughts out of his mind right now.

Without a doubt he’d cave and start to wallow without going to the stupid banquet if he accidently thought about anything that had happened today.

Next was the costume he was wearing, and Yuuri reminded himself to NOT go look at his back in the mirror, regardless of his normal habits.

Checking his back for red marks and bruises now would be counterproductive, just like thinking of his showing at the GPF…

The costume zipper was difficult to reach, but, not only was Yuuri incredibly limber and flexible, thank you Minako, he also had YEARS of practice reaching them at this point. Why did skating costume designers always want to put the zipper on the back or somewhere else ridiculous?

A little finagling and Yuuri had successfully pulled down the top of his outfit, the open back letting his wings breath like they hadn’t been able to for too long. He had his eyes closed as he took a deep breath, expanding his chest and lungs as far as he could.

For some reason Celestino always went down a size for the skating costumes, despite the fact that Yuuri never once lost weight after he made it down to what the coach considered “ideal” for his body type.

The tightness of the costume surely aggravated his back, and he could feel the throbbing from his mark being echoed with sharp pangs from abrasions.

Let it be said on record that sequins were NOT the best idea on too tight costumes. Not in the least.

With a deep breath, Yuuri slipped his arms out of the sleeves and slid the leggings off of his body, folding it up to keep it relatively wrinkle free before he threw it over to his suitcase.

Yuuri was ecstatic to get the stupid sequined thing off as it had been driving him crazy because Celestino wouldn’t let him wear his under shirt this time.

“Flaunt your assets,” he had said.

Hah. Like Yuuri had any assets…what a ridiculous notion…

Honestly he was just glad to get his undershirt back on, well the longer one he kept around that he tucked in to his boxer briefs.

If Yuuri was honest with himself there was a big chance he was going to do his best to get drunk at the damn banquet, and that always ended up with him stripping…

So better safe than sorry.

Drunk Yuuri could never figure out how to unhook the undershirt from the underwear, thank goodness for small miracles, so his back would be safe from view.

The damn suit was also a size smaller than it needed to be, but that was personal preference on his part, the proper way to wear it always seemed too baggy to him.

But this meant more pain for Yuuri when he eventually did pull the damn thing off. No doubt its tightness would aggravate the small wounds already present on his back…

Oh well.

Yuuri wouldn’t be able to stop Celestino from dragging him to the banquet by force so it was better to just suck in all the annoyance and just plan to be drunk.

A knock on the door startled him as Yuuri was tying his tie and he couldn’t help but swear colorfully in Japanese, thankful that his coach never bothered to pick up the language, unlike a certain Thai figure skater he won’t name.

“Yuuri!! You better be ready! We should head to the banquet now!”

Breathing in slowly but deeply through his nose, Yuuri started to push all of the pain in his back to the side, planning to muse on it later. With slow deliberate movements, he walked over to the door to his suite and steeled himself for talking with his coach for the walk down to the hotel ballroom.

The GPF Association always asked the skaters to stay at the same hotel, if just to make this part easier, though Yuuri truly didn’t know why.

No one ever drank crazily enough at a formal banquet to get drunk.

That thought made Yuuri wince as he opened the door. Well he planned to get outrageously drunk, but this was a special case.

As soon as Yuuri opened the door, Celestino wrapped an arm around his shoulders and started pulling him to the elevator.

“Come along, Yuuri! Let’s put all of the events today to the back of our minds and make some good connections, hmm??”

There really wasn’t much Yuuri could do but nod and move along with his coach. Not that he would do anything else; he was looking forward to the alcohol and the sweet black abyss it brought with it.

Riding the elevator with the coach that he knew he disappointed was a bit awkward, but Yuuri’s normal pain kept him distracted enough.

And if it didn’t then the thought of the free alcohol did more than enough to keep him from minding he stunted conversation Celestino was trying to make. Leaving awkward silences well enough alone never did sit well with the man.

Getting off the elevator and walking up to the double doors that hid the gathering of figure skaters made Yuuri’s nerves resurface, but only for a moment.

The rest of his issues pushed it back down soon enough.

The room was full with people.

Mostly people that he didn’t know and weren’t particularly friendly towards. He couldn’t see Chris’s distinct hair yet which means the man was planning to be fashionably late, which suited Yuuri just fine.

He was planning to get drunk, not socialize.

“Come on Yuuri! Forget about today and try to have a little fun!”

Yuuri kind of wanted to stare at his coach blankly until the man chuckled awkwardly and ducked away with some flimsy excuse, but he wasn’t up to that.

He just kept his head down and let the dark cloud over his head deter the people for him.

Celestino left soon enough, and Yuuri almost smiled as he found a lone table by the side that several waiters were passing much more often than the rest of the room.

Perfect.

He settled in front of the table, too nervous to talk to anyone, too depressed to want to talk to anyone, and really looking forward to getting drunk enough to forget all this awkwardness…

Too bad all they had was champagne.

Oh well, that meant more drinks.

And just as planned, Yuuri didn’t remember anything about the banquet, not after all the glasses of Bollinger* he had, and especially not after Chris gave him his personal bottle of booze.

(line)(line)(line)

Yuuri woke up suddenly to a completely pitch black hotel room, his head throbbing and his back throbbing even more.

He groaned loudly and buried his face in the pillow as his thoughts woke up and the back pain slowly encompassed him entirely.

Nothing from the banquet was registering, hell he hardly even remembered going, but all of the thoughts he was pushing to the side before it came back full force.

Yuuri had shown the world who he was today...or was it yesterday…Weak, uncourageous, a screw-up, unworthy, a mess.

Maybe soulmarking was flawed. Maybe Yuuri shouldn’t have been born with Viktor Nikiforov’s mark. Maybe they were “perfect matches” when Yuuri was a baby and Viktor was four, but not anymore…not really…

‘How could a world class figure skater’s perfect match be someone like me…a one hundred point difference certainly doesn’t make us equal…’

Maybe Yuuri wasn’t supposed to be an equal though? Maybe Yuuri was really supposed to be a contrast point? There to show off just how truly wonderful Viktor is by pairing him with a complete failure.

“Nng.”

Yuuri moaned in pain as the pangs in his back started to make themselves known again. Even his back agreed that he wasn’t worth the effort.

Someone shy, anxious, depressed, and a social mess couldn’t match up to the beautiful social butterfly that was Viktor Nikiforov…

The man who was so beyond words and the plainness of Yuuri’s life that he went so far as to name his beloved poodle after the skater.

“Vicchan…”

The tears welled up without permission, even if Yuuri knew it was going to happen eventually.

Crying was all Yuuri was good for. Bemoaning his fate and showing it.

“I miss you, Vicchan…I’m sorry…I-I’m so –sssorry I wasn’t thheeere.”

The tears fell faster as Yuuri thought about his beloved poodle, head pounding unrepentantly, as he realized just what a terrible owner he was.

Yuuri slowly sat himself up on his bed and buried his face into his pulled up knees, tears rolling nonstop down his face and sobs escaping his throat.

“I shhhouldn’t’ve left-I shoulda stayed…Vik-he deserves more than me Vicchannn. You-you needed meeee...an I-I was ssselfish-” Yuuri hiccupped as he talked to himself, he didn’t really notice, too busy apologizing to the one being that gave him more love than anyone…if he couldn’t be there for Vicchan properly, how could he ever be anyone’s soulmate.

“I-I left for-for a chance. A-a small ch-chance I-I-I always knew not-nothing would come of ittttt. I shoulda…shoulda just stayyyed…with-th-th youuu…”

Yuuri couldn’t talk anymore, everything came out as a sob, and he let himself cry. Still mindful of the thin-ish walls and the no doubt late hour, Yuuri cried his eyes out.

Mourning his dog, mourning his failed chance, mourning for Viktor and his poor fate, mourning for everyone who knew, mourning for everything he was mixed up in.

Dark thoughts were circling Yuuri like buzzards, waiting for the right break in his fragile defenses, ready to devour him in a moment.

Luckily for Yuuri, his phone cut through the haze, the darkness, and the oppression.

Scrubbing at his eyes, Yuuri reached over the device, answering it by habit.

A gasp from the bad speakers had Yuuri’s head snapping up, blearily looking at a tanned blob. His glasses must have fallen off while his face was in his pillow.

“Yuuri?”

He would recognize that voice anywhere, especially after sharing an apartment for almost three years now.

“Ph-Phichit-k-kun?”

Yuuri’s voice was hoarse, a sure sign of his previous heavy crying, if the puffy eyes weren’t enough. Still, he scrubbed away the tears and tried to fight back the ones still forming.

“Oh, Yuuri…it’s okay…you still made it to the Finals?” Phichit sounded like he wasn’t sure, and Yuuri had to smile slightly. Trust Phichit to try and comfort him when the other didn’t even know what was wrong.

“It’s not just that, Phichit-kun…Vi-Vicchan d-di-passed this morning…” Fresh tears rolled down Yuuri’s face as he admitted that, suddenly reminding himself of that devastating loss.

“Oh, Yuuri…no wonder you weren’t in the right mindset for your performance…I’m SO sorry…”

Another weak smile graced Yuuri’s lips at the words from his closest friend. Of course Phichit would see it as more than an excuse but an actual reason.

“Should…should I call you back later? I know it’s probably late there… o you need some time? Are you-do you need me to stay until you fall asleep? Why aren’t you asleep? ”

Phichit shot off question after question and Yuuri laughed lightly at his friend. So hyperactive and too good to be true. What did he ever do to deserve such a great friend?

“No…no I’m…I’ll be okay…And I got…probably got really drunk…maybe…at the banquet…so I was…probably not sleeping well…what…what did you need me for?” Yuuri had finally wiped away all his tears and felt around for his glasses as he questioned his friend, his head telling him he should find some pain killers for the ache.

As friendly and loving as Phichit was, he wasn’t one to facetime when their time differences were more than four hours; especially on a night before morning classes. Even more so when he knew how truly late it was for him.  

Yuuri slipped the bulky lenses onto his face, surprised they were actually on the night table, right as Phichit bit his bottom lip on the other side of the screen. He frowned as he watched his friend gnaw on the lip with nervousness. It was so unlike Phichit that Yuuri couldn’t help but worry.

“Phichit-kun?”

The Thai skater jerked at his name and Yuuri could feel the self-pity be replaced with extreme worry, his back throbbing in time with his movement closer to the phone.

Phichit was hyperactive, friendly, caring, and honestly too good for this world. So Yuuri was justified in his worry when he became timid, jumpy, and insecure. That was YUURI’S role. Not Phichit’s.

Yuuri opened his mouth to prod at his friend again when Phichit licked his lips and started speaking.

“Well-I-I wanted to call…to-to comfort you. I know-I know you were so-so nervous about-about being on the same, the exact same, ice as Viktor, VIKTOR, Nikiforov…but I-I didn’t-I need to talk to someone about it. And-and you’re my closest friend, and I figured, if I couldn’t talk to YOU then-then who COULD I talk to and, I-I had to call now-or-or I’d lose the courage-and I-I-I-I…”

“Phichit-kun.”

Yuuri stopped his friend from hyperventilating, but now Phichit was looking at him with wide, wide eyes and slightly furrowed eyebrows.

“Just breathe, Phichit-kin. You’re going to hyperventilate.”

The other nodded swiftly, almost slamming his forehead into his beloved phone as he did. Yuuri might have chuckled if he didn’t see how freaked out Phichit was.

This was clearly a time to be serious and not laughing.

Phichit took three deep breaths before Yuuri nodded and spoke again.

“Now slow down, and try again?”

Yuuri was not used to being the one to tell others to calm down, but there was a first for everything. Especially when his closest friend needed him.

“When you get back can we talk?”

Phichit was much calmer, but Yuuri wasn’t expecting that at all.

“Of course, but why call and ask that?”

“I want-I want to talk to you about…about soulmarks…”

Yuuri froze.

“Specifically mine. But I know how you are about them…very…private…”

“It’s…Japan is different Phichit-kun…the whole concept of showing your mark before finding your soulmate is just…we’re private I guess…” Yuuri stumbled while speaking, not sure exactly how to explain why he was so tight mouthed about it without revealing his soulmark.

“I know…I know…I just…I need to talk to someone…and…and you’re the only one I want to talk to about it…I won’t ask about your mark…I just…” Phitchit was stuttering and Yuuri couldn’t help himself. This was his best friend. Yuuri couldn’t not be there…he wasn’t that much of a failure.

“As…as long as we don’t talk about mine…I want to be there for you, Phichit-kun…”

Yuuri could see the tears welling up in Phichit’s eyes as he nodded and smiled as wide as he normally did.

“Thank you so much Yuuri! This is such a relief!”

Phichit’s voice was back to being the normal overwhelming joyful tone and Yuuri had to smile at his friend. Even for just a moment, he’d made his friend happy.

“Well I’m gonna go, Yuuri! You need to get some sleep for your flight! See you eventually!” He waved as he clicked the end call button and Yuuri slammed his head into his pillow.

Hopefully the sleep would come fast; Yuuri didn’t want to spend the whole night crying, not with his headache. And Phichit was right; he needed to sleep for the flight. He’d need it for the talk with Celestino and then Phichit…how exhausting…

Luckily sleep was a kind mistress, and took over right as Yuuri started to notice the pain in his back again.

(line line line)

The morning was a hectic mess.

Celestino burst in about an hour before their flight and yelled that they were late. He pushed Yuuri out of bed and demanded he pack and only pack. No shower, no hygiene, no nothing. Get packed and get out.

Yuuri blearily put the vestiges of his stuff into the empty-ish bag of luggage, and walked out of his room. Celestino was tapping his foot in the hallway, looking at his watch every few seconds.

There was barely any time for Yuuri to do anything at all when Celestino grabbed his wrist and pulled him along, talking and lecturing the whole way.

“You’ll have to change on the plane.”

“Maybe in the terminal but I doubt you’ll have time.”

“Why didn’t you change last night after the banquet?”

“Why didn’t you shower last night after the banquet?”

“I hope you weren’t wallowing.”

“Wallowing is the worst thing you could possibly do.”

At a certain point during the taxi ride to the airport, Yuuri’s tired brain tuned Celestino out. It was much too common for the man to go off on this rant, the exact same points too, for Yuuri to pay close attention to what his coach was saying.

At least his headache was gone now.

It was just an excuse, but Yuuri couldn’t help it, maybe he should do something else that didn’t need so much confidence…like working full time in Yu-topia…

For the sixth time in his life, Yuuri was stopped by security for “acting suspiciously”. And just like the first time, Yuuri stayed silent, let the woman pat him down, bit his lip when she touched his back, and let Celestino explain his anxiety to the security officer.

He wanted to cry again.

Yuuri couldn’t have just one thing go right this week, could he? He can’t tell his soulmate the truth, maybe get a kiss to stop the pain, couldn’t do well in the GPF, made a failure of himself on international television, his dog died, and he can’t get through an airport without being singled out as a “suspicious person” because his anxiety made him fidget.

For once he forced the tears all the way back and pulled an imaginary sheet over his emotions to keep them where they are. No crying where strangers can see.

Celestino stopped his rant to sigh and wrap an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. He meant for it to be comforting, there was no doubt about that, but all Yuuri got was pity.

They just barely made it to their flight on time, and, surprise surprise, Celestino was right that Yuuri wouldn’t have time to change in the terminal. So he was still in his tight, uncomfortable, messy suit has his nerves played ping pong with his anxiety on take-off.

Not a fun experience.

Of course it didn’t stop there. No that would be much too easy for Yuuri.

Instead of a smooth flight, allowing Yuuri to go change in the bathroom, there was turbulence that had the flight attendants demanding everyone stay seated and buckled.

For once Yuuri tried to take some initiative and asked a flight attendant if there was any way he could go to the bathroom, if he was super careful, or something.

“I’m sorry, sir, but unless you are over the age of sixty-five, or have a documented medical issue that deems it absolutely necessary, you are not allowed out of your seat.”

His voice was nice but his smile was patronizing and Yuuri remembered why he didn’t like talking to people…especially to non-Japanese people.

Yuuri just sighed and resigned himself to an uncomfortable flight.

Luckily he was still exhausted from the late night and was able to sleep through the whole thing. Including, apparently, the awkward regulated trip for every passenger to the bathroom.

Celestino woke him up right before they started their descent. Which was a tad unusual, normally his coach tried to let him sleep as long as he could. Kept his anxiety in check for the most part…

“We need to have an actual talk, Yuuri. With you actually participating instead of just listening, okay?”

It wasn’t his serious voice, but it was close, so Yuuri couldn’t help but nod along with what his coach proposed.

At least this explained why he’d woken him up before Celestino absolutely had to.

“Where are we going to go from here, Yuuri?”

Heh. That was the million yen question now, wasn’t it? Yuuri held back the sigh of pain and answered honestly but quietly.

“I don’t know.”

The pain in his back started fluttering around and Yuuri hid a wince. He’d done well for over eleven years, he wasn’t going to let a new kind of pain slip him up now.

“Well, what do YOU want, Yuuri?”

He just wanted people to stop asking that question.

“I don’t know.”

Really he had no idea what he wanted. No idea what someone like him was allowed to want.

It was easier to ask what others wanted of Yuuri. That was easier than trying to figure out his own mind.

Introspection lead to anxiety and panic and pain and depression and worry and pain…thinking too much about himself was never something Yuuri actively wanted to do. He knew where it leads…what resulted from it…

“Honestly Yuuri…can you not just-”

“Please. Coach. Give-please give me some time…” Yuuri’s voice was still hoarse from his crying last night, and he flinched at the sound, the sudden movement causing his wings to flare up.

Again he just bit his lip and bowed his head to hide his face.

Obviously Celestino thought he needed some comfort and slapped his large hand across Yuuri’s back.

The thought was appreciated, but the pain it brought had him breathing heavily out of his nose. He hated it when anyone touched his back.

Celestino seemed to remember that fact shortly after the action and immediately apologized for his thoughtlessness.

Yuuri just waved him off, entirely focused on his own breathing, and the two stayed quiet until their plane landed bouncingly in Detroit.

It was work to shuffle off the plane with his carry-on and the now stiff suit he was still wearing causing his movements to be heavily constricted.

Coach Celestino looked as if he wanted to help but Yuuri was nothing if not stubborn and the man knew that very well; so he waved the older man off, bit his lip to stifle the pain, and kept moving to the baggage claim.

However he did let the coach grab his luggage for him…lifting the heavy bag might have been too much for his sore muscles, aching back, and too restrictive suit.

“Why don’t you go change while I wait for my bag, Yuuri. That can’t be comfortable.” Celestino didn’t look at his skater as he spoke but Yuuri nodded anyway. He was much too exhausted to try and respond verbally.

Yuuri hiked his carry-on higher on his shoulder as he started shuffling towards the closest men’s room. At this point he would have snuck into a ladies’ restroom if he had to, suits were not made for continuous wear…hopefully it will still be intact for Japanese Nationals…there wasn’t much time to get it fixed if it was broken…and it was his only suit…

Two weeks. Everything needed to hold together for two weeks; his suit, his costume, his emotions, his…everything.

Pain prickled at Yuuri’s eyes but he sniffled and pushed the tears back.

Crying in public after the worst performance of his career was one thing, but…crying the day after in a different country? Not okay.

For once, Yuuri’s luck seemed to be panning out and the bathroom was completely barren. So he pulled together what little courage he could gather, before shutting and locking the door to the whole bathroom.

Stalls very rarely had mirrors, and Yuuri wanted to check on his back to make sure there were no injuries.

While soulmark pain never left any visual sign of suffering, the jerks, flinches, and sudden movements caused by the pain, especially while in a tight figure skating costume for almost a full day, followed by a tight suit for another almost full day, definitely would. Yuuri found that out through repetition and several unfortunate accidents.

He needed a mirror to check out his back, which was the only reason he’d locked the whole bathroom and not just a stall to change in.

There was that one restaurant he went to that had a mirror and sink in the handicap stall but airports never did something like that. Too convenient.

Placing his carry-on on the large sink counter, Yuuri quickly shrugged off his suit jacket, wincing as every movement seemed to enhance the constant pain in his back.

Slowly Yuuri undid the buttons on his button-up, thanking Celestino for removing the tie when he was sleeping…at least he hoped his coach had done it…

Carefully so as to not injure his back any more than it could possibly be at this point, Yuuri slid off the open button-up, and untucked his long undershirt from his underwear.

Looks like Drunk Yuuri didn’t figure out how it worked after all.

Pulling the tight piece of necessary clothing over his head was a bit of a challenge, but his flexibility kept it from being almost impossible.

Yuuri closed his eyes as he turned his back to the large mirror, a large breath of air being sucked in between his teeth as he dropped the undershirt.

He could do this.

He would do this.

It wasn’t any different from any other time, but it had been quite a while since he had last taken in all of his wings…

Breathing out slowly, Yuuri opened his eyes to peer at his wings.

Like every time, all the air he stored up left him in a swift ‘whoosh’, the sight of the large, pristine white wings taking his breath away.

Yuuri’s lip started wobbling as he took in the elegant silver outline to the bright wings; the color of the lines matching the lovely hair color of their other host. The hair that had entranced Yuuri at first sight as it swung around and perfectly accented the young body that bore it.

The feathers of the wings were detailed with varying shades of silver, gray, and off white, creating a light layered effect that no tattoo artist could ever hope to replicate.

For the first time since getting the news about Vicchan, Yuuri smiled; wide, bright, soft, and full of an emotion that he could never truly name.

As much pain as they brought him, as much as they’ve influenced over half of his life, as much trouble as they’ve caused, as much absolute craziness that resulted from them, Yuuri loved the wings.

For all the physical pain, he worked hard to match up to his soulmate, for all the stress, he had twice the amount of determination, for all the nights kept awake, he dreamt of the happiness those wings could bring, and for every moment of despair, he had hope for the future life his wings could fly him to.

They were a lovely contradiction, and Yuuri loved them.

Unfortunately his happy mood could hardly last and Yuuri flinched as his eyes travelled to the red markings that accentuated the bright colors of the mark.

It looks like prolonged exposure to the skating costume and suit combined with the flinches and sleeping in that darn thing did cause some minor irritation to his skin.

Luckily Yuuri carried a lotion specifically for occasions just like this, one in his carry-on, one in his actual luggage, one in his school bag, and one on his dresser back at his apartment.

It was just annoying to apply it by himself. Again, something else to thank Minako for…the flexibility he still had due to starting ballet lessons young.

Yuuri let out a short breath through his nose before heading to his carry-on to rummage around for the tube of lotion; which only caused him to remember the time Phichit found all his tubes and gave Yuuri the oddest look.

Luckily he was placated by the explanation that Yuuri’s muscles got sore easily and the pain relieving lotion was for that…it was better than the idea Phichit came up with by himself…a chronic rash problem? Really?

With a small triumphant “aha”, Yuuri pulled out the half empty tube and frowned. He’d need to ask Mari to send him some more…by the time it would get to him this one will be completely empty…

Oh well.

He’d message her when he got back to the apartment…maybe…maybe ask about Vicchan and ask how that’s going…

A wave of sadness enveloped Yuuri as he started to slowly apply the lotion to the red marks that littered his back. A twinge every now and then made him slow, but it was all habit by now.

Yuuri tried not to dwell on Vicchan, he’d just want to go home and see him and he couldn’t do that with Nationals…not to mention his upcoming graduation…

Ugh he was going to be busy…luckily he took finals early and already knew he was passing so he didn’t have all THAT to deal with as well.

Moving quickly Yuuri finished up his back and shucked his suit pants in a quick movement, not bothering with the underwear because he didn’t have another pair.

Yuuri’d really like to put his jersey sweats back on but they were a bit messy from being slept in, travelled in, and…is that a coffee stain?

Darn.

The only other pants he has are the tights he wears for warm-up and ballet practice…and those are always embarrassing to wear outside of the studio.

But Yuuri was much too neat to slip the jersey sweats back on so the tights will have to do for the trip back to the apartment. He won’t be out long, and the sweater he packed is long enough to cover the really embarrassing parts.

Another sigh escaped from his throat unbidden, and a faint twinge in his back had him moving. Yuuri had been in here a while and Celestino had to have gotten his bag by now…not to mention he’d LOCKED the door to the bathroom…who knows how many people he’d inconvenienced by now…

Hopefully the lotion on his back was relatively dry and wouldn’t rub off on the sweater…it always smelled weird after being washed with the lotion on it…

Oh well.

Sliding the tights on was familiar and not as difficult as some people made it look, and to give his back more time to dry, Yuuri slipped socks and shoes on before pulling on the normal undershirt he always wore and then the loose sweater.

Everything was covered and in place, stunning wings once again hidden beneath two secure layers.

He tried to focus on putting all of his things away carefully, especially his suit, but Yuuri was tired and just wanted to be home so he could properly mope. Celestino always made moping so difficult after all.

Putting his suit carefully on top of everything else in his carry-on, Yuuri zipped it closed; double checked his clothes and headed to the bathroom door.

Unlocking and opening said door brought Yuuri the sight of three impatient looking business men. Yuuri flushed immediately and bowed, apologizing furiously as he shuffled by, the three men storming by.

One of the men hissed “god damn foreigner” under his breath and Yuuri flushed darker.

Even when he spoke English well, some people only saw his Japanese features and treated him like shit.

Honestly. Why were so many people so rude? And mean? He’s a human, just like they are; he was just born somewhere else. Why be a dick about it?

A huff escaped before Yuuri could stop it, and his eyes widened as he scurried back over to Celestino…some men in America didn’t take “disrespect” without doing bodily harm to the one who “disrespected” them. Yuuri would like to avoid another one of those confrontations…

Besides it looked like coach was all ready to go, why waste time here when he could be on his way to his apartment. All he wanted was his bed, something warm to drink, and the ability to sulk without being scolded for it.

Well and to help Phichit through whatever he needed to talk about it.

At this point, Yuuri would rather be anywhere but here. Walking up to Celestino with a slight wave, the coach smiled but said nothing as they both headed towards to the arrivals exit.

Just like all the other airports Yuuri had been to in his life, this one also had a nice long que of cabbies waiting to pick up costumers. Always so convenient. Now if only the states had actual “convenience” stores.

Celestino called the cabbie and chatted with the man for a few moments, small talk mostly, while Yuuri loaded his suitcase into the trunk of the yellow car. His coach came around seconds later to put the rest of the bags in as well, shooing Yuuri to the cab of the cab.

Again his desire to get back to his apartment had Yuuri simply nodding along and slipping into the seat behind the driver.

For some reason it was always the person behind the passenger that talked to the driver the most in the states, so Yuuri always let the coach take that seat. No need to work up more stress by having to deal with social interactions…

“Cold as a witch’s tit in a brass bra out there, am I right?”

Yuuri jerked at the sudden southern drawl and he looked at the cabbie through the rear view mirror, eyes widening as he realized that the cabbie was talking to him anyway.

It was cold outside, but this was Detroit…in December…everyone knew how cold that was…but what did a woman’s chest have anything to do with cold weather?

“Excuse me?” Yuuri asked quietly, unable to stop the confused look that passed over his face. He never could understand the weird comparisons people from the southern states used…they were confusing and often times very weird.

“Hahaha! You northerners, never heard a good description in yer life have ya?”

Luckily Yuuri was saved from the awkward conversation of telling he cabbie that he was a foreigner by Celestino hopping into the back seat and asking the man to head on over to Yuuri’s apartment first.

Thank goodness for small miracles.

But it seemed the trip wasn’t going to be completely devoid of awkwardness, because while the cabbie was content to hum to himself, Celestino turned his full attention to Yuuri.

He thought he had gotten this conversation over with on the plane but it seemed like the coach had more to say.

“Look, Yuuri, I know you said you need some time, I get that. I know you. I know you need to process and everything, but how long are you looking at here?”

Celestino’s voice was just as enthusiastic sounding as ever but Yuuri could read between the lines.

His coach didn’t want him off of the ice for too long because he knew that Yuuri would end up eating crazily again and be unable to skate properly.

It wasn’t his fault that he was a stress eater, a lot of people buried their emotions in food, those people just had better metabolism than Yuuri did.

Unfair is what it is.

Phichit could eat toe to toe with Yuuri and while he’d gain those five pounds he ate, Phichit wouldn’t gain a single kilo. Hardly even a gram, the happy ass.

Honestly the only thing Yuuri would love more than being able to be more confident would be a body that didn’t hate him as much as he hated himself.

But beggars can’t be choosers, and this was the body his mother gave him, so Yuuri would deal with it. Just like he always has.

As Yuuri contemplated the unfairness of the universe, Celestino just kept on talking. He only managed to catch a few of the sentences but they were along the lines of the normal rant, just a bit of a word change.

“Please don’t mope when you get back, Yuuri. Moping does absolutely nothing for you accept make you feel worse for yourself.”

“Moping is unconstructive, what you really need is some practice. Skating on the ice and getting your mind off of things.”

“Try not to take too much time to process though. Processing is important and everything, but we really need to start preparing for Japanese Nationals, especially after what happened yesterday.”

The last one was the one that hit Yuuri the hardest.

Normally Celestino was a bit lighter with his reprimands, taking care of the fact that Yuuri is an anxious mess all the time and he knows it. But apparently the devastating loss at the GPF affected more than just Yuuri’s whole world.

But.

Celestino often told him similar things, probably thinking that if he TOLD Yuuri to not do something that it would suddenly make it all stop.

Anxiety wasn’t like that.

No one has ever been able to stop being anxious, depressed, sad, or anything along those lines simply with someone telling them to NOT be those things.

That was just rude.

But Yuuri was used to it.

So he nodded along anyway, and if the side glare Celestino sent his way delivered any statement it was the fact that he didn’t believe Yuuri for one bit.

As he probably shouldn’t. Yuuri was going to mope and they both knew it.

‘Maybe Coach was just trying to make himself feel better about it later, because he told me not to mope and I did it anyway.’

It was probably something along the lines of, “I did my part, I told him what not to do, anything he does is his fault not mine”.

Oh well.

Yuuri just wanted to go home.

He wanted to talk to Phichit about whatever it was about soulmarks that was bothering him, get that out of the way, hopefully make his friend feel better, and then lie in bed with Nikki and stay there for the next few days.

One bad thing about competitions that Yuuri hated more than the anxiety and the crowds and the pressure and the overall awfulness; Celestino always made him leave his large stuffed bear at home.

It had become habit for Yuuri to sleep with it when he was young, about ten. His parents had gotten it for him because it reminded them of his soulmark. A bright white bear now faded from age, with pretty wings and a small halo.

His parents, to this day, are the only ones who have seen his soulmark and that is solely because Yuuri had it when he was born.

When Yuuri had accepted the fact that Viktor Nikiforov was his soulmark match, he had named the bear Nikki…subtle enough that practically no one knew why, but similar enough that Yuuri was happy with it.

He could really use a Nikki cuddle right about now.

Slowly the cab came to a stop, Yuuri’s apartment complex looming over the small sized car, and he moved to get out of the back when Celestino grabbed his wrist.

Yuuri looked back at his coach with wide eyes and an open mouth. The man was many things but overly physical was not one of them…

But before he could question any of the motives going on, Celestino spoke quietly.

“I’m serious Yuuri. Be at the rink in two days at the normal time for practice. That is plenty of time to digest everything and even some extra to get over the jet lag. Don’t be late.”

He wanted to say it was completely unexpected, but Yuuri would have been lying. Coach Celestino likes to keep his skaters working…Yuuri wasn’t special just because he went to the GPF and failed spectacularly. He wasn’t even special because of his many, MANY, mental health issues, so like hell would his coach treat him any differently from every other skater.

Expected but still a tad surprising.

Yuuri was already exhausted from his social interaction today, so instead of fighting it, or trying to get out of it, or push it back a day or two, he just nodded slowly before pulling his wrist from Celestino’s grip.

In one smooth movement, he shut the cab door, walked to the already open trunk, grabbed his stuff and headed for the only elevator in the complex on the opposite side of the building than his apartment.

He didn’t even wait for the cab to drive away, he just headed straight to the elevator so he could get to his floor and then to his room.

Nikki was calling for him and Phichit needed to talk to him. Plenty of a reason to hurry.

But that didn’t stop Yuuri from stumbling around like a zombie. He could afford to be a little unbalanced right now. Especially with his back flaring up at every step, reminding him that he couldn’t escape the pain, no matter how far he walked.

The stupid thing was a slow as it always was, but seeing as he normally took the stairs Yuuri didn’t complain much. He only ever used it after competitions because lugging suitcases up to the third floor was not fun.

Yuuri closed his eyes for the ride up to the floor, trying to actively think of nothing and only succeeding in thinking about his back.

Red abrasions were pretty normal for him at this point, especially when he wore a heavier layer over top his undershirt. But they still bothered him.

A mix of itching and soreness that seamlessly fit together with the dull throb that was constant.

It was nothing he had felt before, but it always offered something to hyper-focus on when Yuuri wanted to forget something else.

The ding from the small elevator shocked Yuuri out of his focus, and with a quick shake of his head, he headed out of the death trap in waiting and headed to his room.

All the doors were outside, and it was December, in Detroit, so of course he was cold, made worse with the constant wind chill. But it wasn’t nearly as cold as that one time he stayed in Tokyo in the winter…

Silver linings could be a blessing or a curse depending on how someone experienced them.

Sighing quietly, Yuuri dug around in his carry-on for his apartment keys, not wanting to be out in the miserable Detroit winter any longer than he had to, but the action became rather pointless when the door to his and Phichit’s apartment flew open.

On the other side of it was none other than that Thai skater himself, looking at Yuuri with wide eyes and an even wider smile.

Phichit had nice white teeth.

“YUURI!!”

His voice was nice too, so was the hug that Yuuri now found himself wrapped up in. The younger man had him completely engulfed in his arms.

Phichit was a good ten centimeters shorter than Yuuri was but he could never really explain how the Thai skater seemed to be so much larger than he was.

Must be the personality…

“Phichit-kun…”

“I’m so so sorry about Vicchan, Yuuri!! And about the GPF! And about everything else!! And and-”

When thin fingers brushed along the still stinging wings, Yuuri stiffened, and Phichit cut himself off, freezing as he too realized that he’d touched his friend’s back.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!” Phichit was waving his hands fast, smile faltering a bit, but reformed before Yuuri could tell his friend that it was okay.

“Come on come on, I’ll help you with your bags!!! Do you want to shower?!! You know before we talk about…things…I wanna hear everything about the Finals!! Everything!! You hear me Katsuki!”

Yuuri let a light smile grace his face as Phichit grabbed the heavier luggage and pulled it into their apartment with barely a single trace of annoyance on his face.

What did Yuuri ever do to deserve someone like Phichit?

A small shake of his head, and Yuuri was following the trail of his roommate, smiling a bit more when he noticed how clean the apartment was.

Phichit must have tidied up because he knew how stressed dirty environments make Yuuri.

“I spent an hour or two stress-cleaning after we got off of chat yesterday. I was panicking a bit, and I felt bad, and I knew the mess would drive you insane when you got back, and I didn’t want you more anxious, because I really wanna know about the GPF and, of course, I wanted to talk to you, but if you’re too tired from your trip that’s fine, we can always talk tomorrow. I mean it’s not urgent or anything, but I really need to get this off of my chest, you have no idea what it’s like to hide something like this for so long and…”

Yuuri tried not to laugh, but Phichit always somehow ended up working himself into frenzy whenever he was nervous. It was a better outlet than Yuuri’s which consisted mostly of him panicking himself into a shaking ball on the floor or a red mess, but that’s a different story.

It just reminded Yuuri that his roommate was cute and whoever he ended up with was very lucky.

“You’re laughing at me, Yu-uri!!”

The way Phichit said his name and the outrageous pout on his tan face made Yuuri smile much wider than he has in the past twenty-four hours.

“So mean!! Why are we even friends?!”

Phichit crossed his arms and turned away, and for a second Yuuri worried that he had taken his amusement too far, but then Phichit turned slightly and exposed the small smile on his own face.

Little brat.

“Because I’m an anxious mess and you’re a nervous wreck and we both hide it very well.”

Turning around with a dropped jaw had Yuuri smiling again, it was always fun to see Phichit’s reaction to his inner sass.

“You really are a sass master Yu-uri! You should do it more often!”

Now it was Phichit’s turn to smile widely, said smiling only growing with the red slowly spreading across Yuuri’s face. His teeth and tongue were showing with the smile and Yuuri had to fight back the urge to stick his tongue out in response.

“Only to you, Phichit-kun.”

Fidgeting as Phichit’s jaw dropped again, Yuuri took his suitcase from his friend and took it to his room, planning to put his stuff away then come make some dinner, or breakfast, for him and Phichit to eat while they talked.

Well he says put away, but what he means is drop off his suitcases in his closet and then make food because he’s really hungry.

Food trumps everything.

Besides, with how Phichit was sounding on the phone last night they both will probably need the distraction of delicious food.

It was nice to have a friend that loved food as much as he did. Though Yuuri kind of wished he wasn’t the only one who gained every single gram he ate. That was less nice.

“What do you want to eat for dinner, Phichit-kun?” Yuuri asked absently as he pulled his sleeves up, heading to the small kitchen of their apartment.

“CURRY!”

“Didn’t I make you a whole pot of curry before I left?”

“Yeah but that’s different, leftover curry has a different taste than your freshly made stuff!! I want the good stuff Yu-uri!!” Phichit wrapped Yuuri up in a tight hug from behind as he spoke, his pout obvious in his voice.

Yuuri just sighed and smiled. He’d make anything for Phichit right now, even though he really just wanted to curl up with Nikki and sleep for a few days.

“Of course, of course. Is there still left over roux or do I need to make that too?”

“Are you seriously asking me that? What would I do with curry roux? The most I can make is khao pad**, and Tom Kha Kai***.” Phichit let go of Yuuri just to look at him funny.

Ass.

“I was just curious. And are you okay with Japanese styled curry or do you want me to make Gaeng Daeng****?” Yuuri paused in taking out all of the ingredients for the Japanese curry he was planning to make. But that’s what he made for Phichit before he left, so maybe he’d want the more familiar food…

“Japanese style is fine, Yu-uri! You have truly converted me from the deliciousness of gaeng daeng! Though I think we should have it sometime before you leave for Nationals…”

Yuuri smiled as Phichit wandered over to their small but comfortable second-hand couch. Not everyone could be lucky enough to grow up in an inn and know how to make food, but Phichit was almost chronically bad in the kitchen.

At least he was when he and Yuuri cook together, for some reason he could make his two dishes just fine when Yuuri was away but whenever he was in the apartment the food always ended up tasting like salt or was completely burnt.

But Yuuri appreciated his friend sticking around to keep him company while he cooked, especially since curry was a lengthy process.

If the roux wasn’t still in the fridge then Yuuri would have asked his friend to ask for something else. He could wait an hour for food, but an hour and a half was pushing it a bit too far after a stressful day and flight.

Yuuri started in on the preparations, cutting off the chicken fat and cubing the meat, leaving it to dry on the paper towel he put on a separate plate before starting on the potatoes so they could soak properly in the water.

Once he started cutting up the carrots and onions, Phichit stopped messing around on his phone and started talking.

“I know it’d probably be easier to talk over dinner, but I don’t really wanna wait…”

“It’s fine, Phichit-kun. I can talk and cook at the same time unlike some people I won’t mention.” Yuuri smirked slightly after hearing Phichit puff his cheeks and huff.

Really he was so adorable.

If Yuuri didn’t already have a constantly throbbing soulmark, then maybe, just maybe, he and Phichit would have been a cute couple…

Not that he could think of Phichit as anything else than a younger brother at this point. His crush on Phichit had sailed not long after they moved in together.

An ideal is easy to fall for, but once you live together and discover all the bits and pieces, small crushes on friends could easily dissipate.

“Sass Master Yuuri strikes again.”

Yuuri laughed slightly as he grated ginger and started crushing the garlic. Never too much garlic in anything, no matter what blasphemy others may speak.

“Any way, sassy pants, I wanna talk about my soulmark…”

Once more, Yuuri froze what he was doing; hand raised in the air in preparation to smoosh the garlic underneath his large knife.

A sigh could be heard from Phichit in the quietness of the room, and Yuuri tried to start moving again.

He was a bit shaky, but he succeeded in heating some oil in a pan while the dense silence started to thicken.

“I just don’t understand your aversion to soulmarks, Yuuri…especially talking about them.”

Yuuri breathed heavily through his nose as he contemplated a possible response to Phichit. How could he explain something that was a result of eleven years of constant pain and a cultural difference?

“Japanese people are private, Phichit-kun…it’s just…not something to be discussed…”

Throwing the onions into the hot oil, Yuuri tried to busy himself. To not think about Phichit’s openness about soulmarks, to not feel the pain in his back that was a constant reminder of what he would never have, to just not pay any attention to the things that just caused him stress.

Just focusing on the onions, watching as the oil and the heat slowly turned them from white to a pale translucence, was soothing enough. Something that he was controlling, something he could do by himself…

“Yuuri. I don’t want to talk about your soulmark. I already know enough about it.”

Aaaand Yuuri was frozen again.

“I mean, I don’t know what it is, I’ve never SEEN it, but I know it’s on your back. I know you’re hyper-conscious of it. I know you wear one of those nude undershirts constantly to hide it. I know it’s probably very big. And I know it bothers you.”

Running on instincts, Yuuri tossed the ginger and garlic into the pot with the onions, mind going a kilometer a minute as he tried to process just what his friend was saying.

“And these are all things I noticed about you within the first few weeks of our friendship. You’re so conscious of the darn thing that it’s obvious.”

If Yuuri was being honest with himself, he’d freely admit that he really just wanted to flee this whole conversation; hide in his room with Nikki and never come out. Waste away in comfort and anonymity.

But he promised he’d talk to Phichit…and he tried to never break a promise if he could help it.

Dropping the dry cubed chicken pieces into his pan, Yuuri actively stopped his mind from thinking too much about the things that Phichit had discovered about him. His friend didn’t want to talk about Yuuri’s mark; he wanted to talk about his own.

“What is it about your mark that has you talking about this suddenly? You’ve kept conversations from ever revolving around this point, so why bring it up now?”

Yuuri’s voice sounded so much calmer than he felt, but he promised himself that he’d be here for his friend. And he would be.

When he plopped the carrots into the pan, Yuuri turned and moved to grab the chicken stock from the fridge but stopped at the look Phichit was showing him.

His friend was biting his lip. Hard enough that it looked like it was bleeding.

That worried Yuuri immensely.

Phichit was not the kind of person that would get anxious, nervous yes, but never anxious. And this was the classic look of anxiety…Yuuri would know.

So as fast as he could, he grabbed the stock, poured it into the pot and turned the heat up to get it all to boil before he headed over to Phichit on the couch.

It would take a bit for the liquid to boil, so Yuuri was free to physically comfort his friend while he tried to figure out whatever it was that was making him anxious.

Yuuri sat next to Phichit on the small but comfy couch and wrapped an arm around his thin shoulders. It was a position they often preferred, whether Phichit was comforting Yuuri, or in the current manner with Yuuri comforting Phichit.

His friend leaned into the hold and released his bottom lip from the tight biting. Licking his lips he asked a question that Yuuri was quite positive that he’d never have to answer in his life.

“You won’t think I’m a freak right? If I-if I tell you?”

The nervousness was back, and Yuuri steeled himself to tell his friend a story about soulmarks that his parents made sure that he and Mari knew by heart.

“Nothing about soulmarks is freakish, Phichit-kun.”

“But I-”

Yuuri cut off his friend with a simple statement, not wanting to listen to any self-depreciation from his upbeat friend. That was Yuuri’s shtick anyway.

“Did you know that your soulmark doesn’t have to mean anything?”

He watched as Phichit blinked rapidly, looking at Yuuri’s face with furrowed brows and a slight frown, quite obviously not sure what to think of that.

Yuuri stood quietly after hearing the slight popping from his pan. He skimmed the fat from the surface of the stock as he gave Phichit time to contemplate what he just said.

He managed to peel and coarsely grate the apple into the pot before Phichit spoke up.

“Of course…I mean the images could be representative of the pair, but they never have a specific meaning…”

“That’s not what I meant, Phichit-kun.”

A sigh came from his throat before he could stop it, and he could practically feel his friend’s stare on him as he stirred in the salt and the honey, lowering the temperature so it could properly simmer.

When he finished with that, Yuuri once again went to sit with Phichit on the couch, leaning back to rest his head properly on the back.

The position put a lot of pressure on his hurting back, but Yuuri ignored it, more focused on figuring out his wording.

“Having a soulmark doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to…you could go your entire life without seeing someone else bare your mark and STILL fall in love and be happy…a soulmark is a…a suggestion, I guess…not…not an obligation…”

Yuuri was very unsure of what he was saying. It sounded profound and deep, but it’s more something that was repeated to him over and over again by his parents and Minako.

He believed his soulmark was his only chance at happiness, but that was his problem, no one else’s…when he saw it for the first time on Viktor, Yuuri knew he’d probably end up alone…and this story was the reason why.

“Did I ever tell you about my parents, Phichit-kun?”

Closing his eyes, Yuuri waited for a reply, not wanting to plunge into a story he wasn’t sure his friend wanted to hear.

“Well I mean you told me quite a bit about them…did you mean something specific? Like their soulmarks? They match don’t they? You said they did!”

Phichit was looking at Yuuri with wide sparkling eyes now and Yuuri wanted to laugh. He was such a romantic at heart it was endearing.

“Well they match NOW.”

Warm brown eyes blinked slowly as Phichit’s mouth puckered and he tried to understand what the sentence meant.

“Wha-?”

“My mom wasn’t born with a soulmark.”

“Well yeah, if your soulmark match hasn’t been born yet you won’t have one until they are…everyone knows that Yuuri…”

Phichit’s furrowed brows and frown were back. But Yuuri sort of ignored them, instead closing his own eyes to recall his parents’ marks. The ones they don’t mind showing because they ARE a perfect match.

“My father is older than my mother, Phichit-kun.”

Yuuri’s back was stinging a lot more now, and he really wanted to get up, but the pot needed to simmer for a bit more before he could move with actual purpose.

“But…how?”

“Mom and dad dated for years before they got married. Mom told dad on the third date that she didn’t have a mark, dad didn’t have a problem with it and he thought marks were a ridiculous way to direct your life anyway. But his is pretty, a small pink sakura flower on the back of his neck.

Shortly after they were married…Minako suddenly noticed that mom had a new mark on her neck…a small pink sakura flower on the back of her neck, an exact replica of dad’s. They didn’t know when it showed up, but they both know it wasn’t there when they were married.”

The silence was deafening, and Yuuri wanted to do nothing more than stop talking, finish cooking, and hide away. But he also knew that if Phichit was going to get whatever it was off of his chest he needed to know about this.

“Just because you HAVE a mark doesn’t mean you’re going to end up with the other person who has it. It’s just a suggestion…you can always grow to be someone else’s perfect match…so there isn’t anything ‘freakish’ about soulmarks.”

Yuuri stood after that final statement, shaking lightly with the heaviness of his words.

It was something that had been spoken all the time around the inn, that the soulmark was only a suggestion, not an obligation. But Yuuri always thought differently, thought that his soulmark was special, something to cherish and oblige…

Then he’d seen it on Viktor and knew.

He wasn’t worthy of the now top male figure skater in the world. Viktor should be with someone else, fall in love with someone else, and grant the sublime white wings on someone who was worthy enough to be his match.

Because Yuuri definitely wasn’t it.

Walking over to the stove, stirring the pot a bit and then adding the potatoes before mixing his roux with some of the stock from the pot, letting it all mix together so he could put that in as well after the potatoes finished.

Phichit’s voice was very quiet when he spoke, but Yuuri heard him like he was speaking with a megaphone.

“You don’t believe that do you, Yuuri…”

A slight laugh from his mouth was answer enough.

Yuuri was a walking contradiction and they both knew it. He could preach this wisdom all he liked, but if he didn’t believe it…well…

“I don’t believe it applies to me…”

“That’s stupid.”

“I know.”

The silence was pressuring now, heavy and ominous and not at all soothing like the apartment normally was.

Leaving the potatoes to cook, Yuuri headed to his room for a moment; to gather his thoughts, but also to pull his costume out of his bag and hang it.

He needed to keep himself busy while Phichit was thinking things out. Yuuri didn’t want to spiral, not when Phichit wasn’t done talking, not when he still needed to make food, and not when he was needed.

Yuuri wasn’t sure how long he was putting away his things, but the sudden change in smell in the air had him rushing back to the stove.

Quickly stirring the pot and adding in the roux, Yuuri double checked that he didn’t burn anything, huffing out a breath of relief when he noticed nothing wrong.

The arms wrapping around his waist had him jerking suddenly, but he calmed himself knowing that it was Phichit.

Lightly, so very lightly, his Thai friend laid his head on Yuuri’s back, refusing to remove it even as he stiffened automatically.

Moving with the practiced ease that being the best friend of someone so clingy brought, Yuuri tried to keep ignoring the pulsing in his back as he added soy sauce and ketchup to his pot.

Phichit stayed attached to his back, even as Yuuri threw some rice into the rice cooker and moved them both back to the couch.

Sitting was odd, because even as he lowered them both down, Phichit stayed connected to Yuuri’s back.

But he would give Phichit this comfort. Talking about a secret he’s kept for a long time cannot be easy after all…not that Yuuri would know, he’s a ‘take it to the grave’ kind of person.

“Ihabtw.”

The voice was definitely Phichit, but the words were neither Thai nor English…

“I’m sorry?”

“I have two…” It was so quiet but Yuuri still heard the words and stilled.

“Two…?”

“Soulmarks…” Phichit clarified and Yuuri understood why he was so hesitant to talk about it…he’d never heard of ANYONE that had TWO soulmarks.

“That’s okay, Phichit-kun.”

Yuuri didn’t know if that was the right thing to say or not, and immediately thought he had overstepped or said something wrong.

But then Phichit squeezed tighter and croaked out a “yeah?”. Honestly, he was so cute. Though the sound of his voice meant that his happy friend was crying, which was not good…

“Of course, twice the fun right?”

When Phichit laughed Yuuri gave himself a mental high five, proud that he managed to cheer up his friend.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, just soaking in the company.

Phichit separated himself from Yuuri and when he saw that his friend wasn’t still crying, Yuuri stood, moving over to the stove to plate up the curry, forgoing the toppings and just setting the plates on the small fold out table.

The Thai skater sat and looked at Yuuri with a look of gratitude that he was pretty sure he didn’t deserve, but said nothing. Phichit already did plenty of work with just sharing that information, and Yuuri didn’t want to push his emotions by starting him on another ‘love yourself’ rant.

“Besides…” Yuuri spoke suddenly, lifting the first spoon of curry to his mouth as Phichit jerked at the sound. He looked up expectantly, clearly wanting Yuuri to get on with it so he could eat the curry like a starving maniac, even though he wasn’t one.

“You need two people to properly deal with all your crazy.”

The look of surprise and annoyance on Phichit was totally worth the shoe to the face.

Chapter Text

Yuuri was panting harder than he ever had after any of his performances. His breath was trapped in his lungs and seemed to be fighting to get out and replenish.

It was a new kind of hell.

His eyes stung, and Yuuri very purposefully did not look at the crowd as he skated to the exit of the rink to head towards the kiss and tell. He didn’t even want to wait for his score, he knew without a doubt that it was going to be beyond horrible.

This was worse than the Grand Prix Finals.

Nothing to be done about it, Yuuri knew, but the overwhelming feeling of guilt and uselessness sort of compressed in on him as he took in the sight of Celestino.

Coach was bored.

Or rather, he had the look of someone who wasn’t honestly paying attention to his surroundings and Yuuri knew more than anyone just what that entailed.

Celestino had given up on Yuuri for this season. Maybe not for other seasons, but as far as he was concerned, Yuuri was done for the year.

Perhaps it was the emotions in him talking, but Yuuri couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter towards his coach…maybe he hadn’t done his best, and in fact probably did worse than he ever had before, but this was his coach. The man who was supposed to have something uplifting to say after every performance regardless of where Yuuri placed.

But he remained silent.

Despite his bitterness, Yuuri knew that Celestino’s feelings were hardly misplaced. Yuuri had given up on himself, so why would anyone else believe in him?

When the scores came out, Yuuri didn’t even lift his head. He already knew it was a horrible score, and the huff that escaped from his coach’s lips only emphasized that, so why even bother to confirm his thoughts.

Using what little grace he had left, Yuuri stood and walked away from his coach, and the kiss and tell.

He needed to think. Figure out where he was going to go from here, now that his season was well and truly over.

Failing Nationals meant that Worlds was nothing but a pipe dream, so until next fall, Yuuri was officially on a sort of break.

This meant it was time for him to decide where to go from here. Bottom of the wrung in the GPF, bottom again in the Nationals of a country that claims him as the best…retirement was looking more and more like the best idea.

But.

The ice gave something to Yuuri that he found was missing through his childhood. It gave him focus, it gave him drive, it gave him a hobby, and most of all it gave him his soulmate. But one cannot continue in the competitive world of Male Figure Skating without some kind of push for placing.

And Yuuri didn’t know if he still had that drive anymore after this season.

Reaching the small locker room that was set aside for him as he had requested, Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from hiding away in the room and slamming his head on the door.

His road to failure at Nationals started on the night he came home from Detroit.

Needless to say it took more than a day for Yuuri to leave his room.

After enjoying a nice dinner with Phichit and then packing away the leftovers into some Tupperware containers, Yuuri went into his room, curled up with Nikki and then refused to leave.

Phichit was great during this time, and kept giving Celestino really plausible excuses for why Yuuri wasn’t at training that day, and it all ended up totaling to a week of alone time.

Time Yuuri really needed.

Yuuri needed to process a lot. The loss of his longtime friend and companion, his failure on a stage where he was supposed to meet his soulmate on equal footing, getting so smashed he forgot the banquet afterwards, the horrible trip back to Detroit in his tight suit…

He was glad for the break to just digest and break down for a bit, although he was not glad for the whirlwind of everything that came after that week of Yuuri time.

As soon as he showed up to practice, Celestino had him running laps and would lecture him during breaks about the dangers of stress eating. Yuuri didn’t mean to eat all the junk food in the apartment, but he was coping in the only way he knew how…with food.

Coach didn’t mention it around Yuuri, but he knew that his coach had already given up on him for this season before Nationals even started…Phichit didn’t say anything but his sad brown eyes spoke plenty.

Depression came in like a swift wind and overstayed its welcome.

When it came time for Yuuri and Celestino to leave for Japan for this year’s Nationals, he was beyond repair. Yuuri was depressed, he could barely get himself out of bed each morning, Phichit had to come in and tempt him out with some snacks. Which he ate. And gained.

Yuuri cried a lot when he was eating.

Phichit tried to comfort him, as he always did during Yuuri’s lows, but this time it didn’t help very much. Yuuri was much too gone for any help.

All of this combined led to the worst showing of Yuuri’s life. Worse even than the Grand Prix Finals.

The weight he had carried was much larger than what he had at the GPF, not to mention his depression had not fully set in so his steps were still relatively okay there. But not at Nationals.

Yuuri felt the tears welling in his eyes as he thought about his desolate performance, of that energetic kid that probably won Gold this time around…people like that should be the ones representing Japan in the GPF.

Youngsters were coming up and out of Juniors, ready to show to the world of Seniors that they are just as formidable with the big dogs as they were with the pups.

And maybe Yuuri was an old dog that should just know when he was beat by those with younger bodies than his own.

Except Viktor was still doing fine and he was older than Yuuri.

But he was special in a way that Yuuri was not, he was a prodigy, an expert, a five-time GPF Gold medalist. Viktor deserved his time in the spotlight and he was hardly going anywhere.

Just more proof that Yuuri was not the right match for the Russian.

A sharp pain through his spine had Yuuri mechanically moving to take off the costume that would no longer be used, and then he was waiting for Celestino.

His coach was probably trying to make the trip somewhat valuable by trying to recruit some of the young blood present for today’s competition. How very like him.

But Yuuri didn’t care as much as he did when he first entered into the locker room.

With the knowledge that his season was over came the acknowledgement that he had nothing to do anymore. No timelines, no diets, no structured training, no nothing. Just Yuuri.

Maybe that was all he needed to get his love for skating back…

Yuuri just wanted to get back to Detroit and forget about this horrid event.

Celestino greeted him with a happy smile after he was done making his rounds, and Yuuri could only think that he got the names and numbers of some good prospects.

He didn’t talk much on the way to the airport, said nothing at the airport, even as Yuuri tried very hard to not have another panic attack at the sight of security. The man was even quieter than normal on the flight back to the city.

Normally Coach would be talking Yuuri’s ear off, telling him everything that he did wrong, what could be fixed, and ultimately what should be forgotten about as a possible skill set in Yuuri’s arsenal.

Needless to say, a week after he landed back in Detroit, after the horrible showing in Nagano, and the day before he was due to graduate, Yuuri cut ties with Celestino.

Yuuri didn’t have the heart for this anymore.

His back was hurting more and more, his feelings were pushing and pushing at him and all Yuuri wanted to do was sleep. Sleep and never wake up preferably.

Phichit was sad to no longer share the rink with Yuuri, but he understood.

“You can’t help some things Yuuri. Your mind isn’t in the right place for all of this, and maybe Celestino isn’t the best coach for you…you need a gentle hand Yuuri…but you also need to be the focus…Ciao Ciao has too many students for that.”

It did make Yuuri feel a bit better.

But still he wallowed; stuck in a cloudy storm that never seemed to let up.

The only thing that made him feel even the tiniest bit better was when he was cooking.

For a week straight Yuuri practically barricaded himself into the kitchen of their small apartment, making anything from sweets to dinners to snacks and a few mixed drinks.

Phichit ingested every single thing, and then worked twice as hard during his work outs to keep the extra weight off. Not that he had to work nearly as much as Yuuri would have had to, to keep his weight, if he were still skating.

However all Phichit gave him was the week, before he told Yuuri to find a better outlet, or to keep cooking and start giving the food to other people besides Phichit. There was only so much temptation he could stand before the sight of Yuuri’s goodies had him eating more than he should.

But Yuuri didn’t know what to do.

He’d already graduated, he was no longer a student of Celestino and so would have very little access to the rink, and he didn’t have any other worthwhile hobbies except reading. But American books had nothing on the true horror tales of the Japanese so he didn’t have many to read from.

Idly he thought about stealing the key to the rink to use it at night, but he was sure both Phichit and Celestino would know just who made off with it.

So with that in mind, Yuuri looked around the area for some rinks that were old, but not dirty, yet relatively empty so that he could use the ice whenever he wanted and not feel embarrassed about what he was going to start doing.

When he found the perfect rink, he called the owner, convinced him with stuttering words and panging aches in the back, to let Yuuri have the key to skate at night.

It took a few nights, but finally, finally, Yuuri had a place to skate for just himself.

Now that he was standing here though...he couldn’t help but hesitate on the plan he had decided for himself.

It had only been a few weeks, but already Yuuri had gained quite a bit of weight. Not quite as much as it could have been, because he was still running with Phichit in the mornings, but the extra flab was still noticeable.

Especially in his tight workout clothes.

He’d have to pull out some of his other ones, if he decides to actually do this, just to hide the extra weight from anyone…mostly himself.

Luckily his normal undershirt was actually a compression nude workout shirt, so his weight wouldn’t be visible to anyone who didn’t know him.

“Come on Yuuri…being depressed is boring…do something productive…”

Talking to himself had long since become habit when he needed to psych himself up for anything, not that it worked when there was a crowd or audience involved…but when he was alone it worked wonders.

Yuuri took the guards off of his skates and placed them on the ledge of the short wall next to the entrance to the rink. He was alone, it was dark, and he would need to know where he put them without relying on his glasses, so the entrance was the best bet.

Breathing in slowly through his nose, Yuuri stepped on to the ice…and for the first time in weeks, he felt light again.

His back started to tingle, not with pain, but with the telltale stretch of muscles, and a smile fought its way to Yuuri’s face.

For the first time in weeks, he didn’t want to curl into a ball and cry to himself about the uselessness of his life. He didn’t want to throw everything in the trash and restart his life as a hermit. He didn’t want to give up on his dream of one day being able to meet Viktor Nikiforov and tell him the truth.

Skating brought back everything that had ever driven him in the first place, and he could feel the ache from the loss of Vicchan starting to ease ever so slightly.

A few laps around the rink in a lazy manner had his muscles almost purring in happiness at being used for something other than the endless repetition of running with Phichit.

The wings along his back didn’t ache in mutiny, but instead were back to being the dull throbbing he had long considered to be a part of him.

Breathing deeply through his nose a few times, Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from tensing suddenly, muscles in his legs pulling taut, and his arms instinctively pulling in as he toed himself off of the ice and into the air.

It was like returning home.

The rotation was a bit too strong, and his landing was wobbly, but still he did a quad toe loop.

After weeks of avoiding the rink like it was the plague, Yuuri did a quad toe loop and didn’t fail horribly as he thought he would without practice.

His wings were helping him into the air again.

Yuuri fell to the ice in a pile, unable to hold back the tears that had welled up and then fallen from his eyes as the emotions started to sink in.

Without practicing religiously every day, while gaining weight from the depression munchies, Yuuri was sure he’d lose his skills. He thought for sure he would return to being a beginner again.

But he didn’t.

Yuuri could still skate, could still jump, and the relief escaped him from his eyes.

Not thinking about it, Yuuri pulled his phone from his inner pocket of his pants and pulled up the video of Viktor skating at the GPF.

Sitting on the cold ice at an unbelievably late time of night, Yuuri watched the video of his idol over and over and over again.

Each play through helped sink something into Yuuri. The step sequence, the jump order, the placement of arms and legs, the exact coordination of a body taller than Yuuri’s own and then reimagined in a slightly smaller definitely more chubby body.

The cold was seeping in through his track pants, and idly Yuuri considered the fact that he might be giving himself frost bite, but the cold air felt good on his back, even under two layers of clothes.

It was still painfully dark outside when Yuuri’s phone died from over playing Viktor’s video, and only then did he actually stand from his crumpled position on the ice.

Yuuri knew his depression well. He knew the telling signs that it was coming, he knew what it felt like when it overwhelmed him, and most importantly he knew just how to force himself out of it.

He needed something to focus on.

Something that would take up every single part of his mind, something that would keep him busy even when he wasn’t doing it. He had to think on it, he had to plan it, he had to make it perfect, that was the only way he could push himself out of the depression he had fallen into.

And this was it.

Yuuri was going to learn Viktor’s routine, just as he did all those years ago with Yuuko after realizing his admiration of the slightly older skater.

Copying Viktor’s routine and then showing it to his childhood friend was something he did long ago, when he was uncomfortable with himself and needed a slight confidence boost.

It was nostalgic, and it was something he did often when he was younger and it always made him feel better no matter what was going on at the time.

So if it could help him before he knew he had depression, it could help him out now when he knows about the disorder.

No matter how long it took, by the time he made it back to Japan in March Yuuri would have this routine down perfectly. And when he got back to Hasetsu he would perform it for Yuuko just as he always did…and then he’ll decide what to do for the next season.

Only then.

Now that Yuuri had that figured out, a few more deep breaths and he skated to where he left his skate guards.

He wasn’t done skating.

Even if it was dark, even if he was tired, even if the hunger pangs started to outweigh his back pangs, Yuuri was going to skate part of the routine tonight, no matter what.

He wanted to keep skating.

Pulling in a deep breath, Yuuri tried to settle his nerves, even though he knew it was pointless, and started to pull off his top layer of workout clothes.

His belly jiggled a bit, but he ignored it and pulled off the compression nude undershirt.

For the first time in years, his back was bare to a room.

No one was in the room, but the feeling remained, Yuuri hadn’t let his back be bare save for his showers in almost eleven years…

It was weird, to say the least…

But it also brought a new feeling, something he wasn’t sure he would ever really feel again unless he beat all the odds and actually managed to tell Viktor about their matching marks.

Freedom.

No longer was he painstakingly worried and anxious about keeping his shirt down, about making sure his back didn’t show even a single bit, it was as if he didn’t have a soulmark that matched with one of the most famous figure skaters of the era.

A smile broke across Yuuri’s face before he could think about anything else.

His phone died while he was replaying Viktor’s video over and over again, but the routine was cemented firmly in his mind now. Yuuri could see it when he closed his eyes, saw the strong body move with such force and deliberateness.

With a bare back, Yuuri wouldn’t dare to attempt any jumps, that was just a bit too dangerous for him despite how free he felt at the moment, but he could start learning the choreography.

It was slow going, especially with the weight he had gained recently, but Yuuri passed the time without even really thinking about time passing. The music in his head and his body kept him moving and distracted to the point where he was shocked by his watch’s alarm going off.

Yuuri had set and alarm for 5 am, about an hour before the owner of the quaint little rink would be in to start up the opening procedures. Wouldn’t want the man to walk in on him dancing around with no shirt on and a well-known mark on his back…

Putting the shirt back on and heading out of the rink after taking care of his skates and other objects he brought with him left Yuuri with the biggest smile he’d worn it weeks.

Granted it still wasn’t a very big smile but it was one none the less.

One that Phichit wasn’t shy on commenting about.

“Oooooh!! Yuu~ri! What’s with the smile?? You finally reach the great revelation of the age? Finally going to tell me how you still look seventeen when you are three years older than me??!”

And despite their close friendship and all they’ve been through together, Yuuri still turned bright red when Phichit mentioned the smile.

Not that it was put there because he finally figured out how to get out of his depression or anything, noooo.

“Just found something to do with my time is all…besides feeling sorry for myself…”

Phichit’s wide smile was more than enough of a response for Yuuri to confirm that he did the right thing by kicking himself to that rink. That and the tight hug he got from his best friend after said smile.

“Oh I’m so happy for you Yuuri!!”

Yuuri smiled a little bigger this time, and hugged his friend close, still surprised that the younger was so much smaller than he was…

“And no offense but does this mean you’ll cook some food?”

“Hahaha, missed real food?”

“More than you can ever know, Yuu~ri! Take out is gross compared to what you can offer!!”

“Thanks! How about some Curry Stir Fry? I don’t think I could sit through making actual curry right now, and I used up all the roux last time anyways.”

“YES! REAL FOOD! ANY IS GOOD!!”

“Of course it is…”

--

Yuuri made it a habit to visit the little rink with the nice owner almost every night.

He didn’t take his shirt off every night, not all too comfortable with the idea of being so exposed all the time, and he couldn’t practice the jumps Viktor made if he was so concerned with not falling and horribly hurting himself.

 Falling was part of the learning process after all. But wise decisions could be made to not fall while shirtless…

Phichit never asked why he left so late in the evenings, or why he came home so early in the mornings, or why he slept all day either. He was just glad that Yuuri was closer to being back to his old self, and said so to Yuuri on many occasions.

In fact after the first night, Phichit stopped mentioning anything to do with his previous depression, or even his skating.

As much as Yuuri knew that it was killing his friend that Yuuri wasn’t going to the ice rink with him anymore he’d always put health before competition. So to get rid of the tense air of Phichit still pro-skating and Yuuri technically not, Phichit would make horrible jokes about free time.

“Yuu~ri! Can you go to the store for some more cheese sticks!! Unlike some people, I have to go practice!”

“Yuu~ri! The old lady down the road needs someone to walk her dog for a week!! I’m voluntelling you because I have places to be!”

“Yuu~ri! Could you run my papers to the university!! Ciao Ciao has me running drills today and I won’t have time!”

Phichit almost never actually meant any of the things he yelled on the way out of the door, but it seemed to be a personal challenge for him to come up with the strangest things he could.

Yuuri enjoyed the wake-up call even if it was only shortly after he got home from the rink.

Time seemed to fly after that…

Days had a set schedule and the only thing that really changed was that when Phichit had a day off of practice, he’d grab some illegal drinks from a buddy and drink with Yuuri in the apartment.

They always made sure to watch themselves, and not leave the apartment.

If Yuuri was honest he was worried about Phichit drinking while still underage, but his friend wanted to start building up his resistance so that when he did start drinking he wouldn’t overdo it and do something he’d regret.

Besides, Phichit was close to twenty and in Japan that would make him of legal drinking age.

Works for Yuuri anyway.

Those were also the nights that Phichit found out that while Yuuri had an incredible tolerance for a Japanese person, when he did get drunk he got drunk.

Which happened all of two times.

Yuuri has since managed to confiscate Phichit’s phone and delete all evidence of those mistakes.

It was good for a while.

But sometime in early February, despite his depression staying at a minor level, Yuuri started to feel like there wasn’t a reason keeping him in Detroit any longer.

 He had already cut ties with Coach Celestino and as much as he loved Phichit, they had different lives at this point and only ever really saw each other at dinner.

Which begged the question: why was Yuuri still in Detroit?

--

“Yuuri!! I’m home!! What did you concoct today?!”

Phichit’s voice wasn’t quite loud but it was definitely big enough to echo around their apartment and to jerk Yuuri from his task of packing.

He had gotten so into organizing all his things that he’d completely lost track of time and of when Phichit would be back from the rink. Uh-oh.

Yuuri was not emotionally prepared for this conversation.

“…Yuuri?”

Phichit’s voice was a lot quieter and less room filling the second time he called out Yuuri’s name, and his heart constricted just a bit at the emotions that echoed in that voice.

He stopped filing away his shirts immediately and stood to walk into the kitchen, trying to curb his anxiety enough to have this conversation with Phichit without crying.

However the lowered eyebrows and the frown on his best friend’s face almost pulled the tears right down his cheeks.

Yuuri was in no way emotionally stable enough to get through discussions like this, no matter how needed they were and what they did for his future.

“…why are there boxes in the hall…Yuuri?”

Phichit had dropped his skating bag by the front door, something they had both started doing after harsh practices, and now the younger was playing with his fingers while his eyes flicked between Yuuri’s figure and the boxes lining the floor.

“Um…Phichit-kun I…”

“Are you…did you…I mean…”

“I’m packing…”

Yuuri knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as he’d said it. Phichit’s eyes started to water and he gripped his hands so tight that they started to pale, almost turning white.

His brown eyes widened and Yuuri waved his hands to try and stop his friend from crying it what he probably thought was Yuuri moving elsewhere in Detroit.

“No no no! I’m, I’m not moving…well I mean I am…wait wait! No Phichit-kun I mean, I’m not moving because of you, or anything to do with you…it’s all me, and I mean, I need, this is because…wait wait! Don’t! I’m not…I…I’m sorry…”

Yuuri was really making this harder on himself than he really needed to, but Phichit looked like he was going to cry and Yuuri is no good when people close to him are crying.

He really just needs to say it.

“I’m just moving back to Japan, Phichit-kun…”

“What the hell, Yuuri!! You scared me!!” Yuuri flinched slightly from the sheer volume of Phichit’s voice but breathed a sigh of relief at the light tone it carried.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was moving for any other reason, I just. I talked to my mom, and the whole reason I moved out here was to train with Coach Celestino and since I’m not anymore…I mean, besides you, I don’t really have a reason to stay in Detroit…”

Phichit’s eyes started to well up with water and Yuuri’s widened in response, completely afraid that he’d offended his friend again, when the shorter skater jumped onto Yuuri.

“AWWW!!! YUU~RI!! YOU YHINK I’M A REASON TO STAY IN DETROIT??!”

The volume was probably enough to bother the neighbors but Yuuri decided he didn’t care as Phichit snuggled him into the plush carpet of their apartment.

Yuuri wrapped his arms around Phichit’s slim back and hugged him close, appreciating the skin-ship that he probably wouldn’t get for at least a few months after he moved back to the onsen.

“Of course I do, Phichit-kun, you’re my best friend…”

“Aww!! YUURI!!!”

They stayed on the floor just hugging each other for who knows how long; loving their closeness and their ability to be so affectionate without feeling pressured by society and their definition of friendship.

“So…when are you ditching me for the wonderful land of your forbearers?”

It was those kinds of jokes that made Yuuri almost choke as he started laughing. Phichit always managed to make situations light-hearted.

“I’m not ditching you, Phichit-kun, I just need to figure some things out. And it makes more sense to do it where I don’t have to pay money to live instead of here when the only reason is my best friend.”

Yuuri could feel Phichit puff his cheeks out and chuckled lowly as he brushed his fingers down his friend’s back.

“Totes not the point, Yuu~ri!”

“Hahaha, I’m shipping my things out this week and I’ll be on a plane to Fukuoka next week…probably looking like Tuesday because prices are cheaper then…”

“Oh…so not very long at all…” Phichit’s voice was sad as he spoke, but Yuuri knew his friend was still happy that Yuuri was finally figuring some things out.

“WELL! Gonna have to text Ciao Ciao and say I’m taking a week off!” Phichit yelled suddenly, practically flinging himself off of Yuuri’s fluffy body, who was a bit too busy coughing to immediately process what his friend just said.

“Oh, Phichit-kun, some warning next-wait what?!!”

Now Yuuri was yelling as he hurriedly pushed himself up on to his feet, trying in vain to stop Phichit from reaching his phone and texting his coach.

“Well I only have a limited amount of time with you until who knows when! So we’re gonna pack up your stuff real quickly and then have FUN for the next week! YOU HEAR ME!! FUN!!!”

“Wait wait!! Phichit-kun!! Don’t text Coach Celestino!! NO! PHICHIT-KUN!! YOU CAN’T AFFORD A WEEK OFF!! STOP IGNORING ME, PHICHIT-KUN!!”

Needless to say, Phichit did take a week off, and he and Yuuri did some epic friend things in the six days the two of them had left together.

Some things Yuuri regretted as soon as they did them, but he wouldn’t have traded that time for anything. Even while keeping his wings a secret, Phichit was without a doubt the best friend Yuuri could ever possibly hope for.

--

 Flying home was not the easiest trip Yuuri had ever taken. Not necessarily the hardest, but not easy by any stretch of the word.

Half of the flight was spent panicking about actually returning home, his recent weight gain, seeing Yuu-chan and everyone again, and what on earth was his plan for the next year?

The other half was spent in fitful sleep because he wasn’t planning to take any of the anxiety pills in case he missed the landing and his anxiety made deep sleep impossible. Being afraid of missing the landing was a stupid fear, it was a huge plane, but it was one Yuuri had every time he flew.  

Of course the turbulence didn’t make it any easier; neither did his anxiety about the turbulence, or his plane captain’s horrible sense of humor.

No one should joke about a crash landing when people on the flight could have horrible anxiety.

That’s just mean.

However, despite the bad jokes, the landing wasn’t too awful and the connecting flight was smooth and that pilot didn’t have horrible humor so the hour trip was almost relaxing.

Navigating two rather large suitcases through the Fukuoka Airport to the train station was not relaxing, however. In fact the only place that might be worse to navigate would probably be Shinjuku Station…good thing Yuuri’s family lived in the quieter part of Japan.

Tokyo was interesting, but so so busy…

Compared to both plane trips, the train ride was utter bliss.

No one was sitting next to him, there was plenty of space at the designated luggage area for his suitcases, and the ticket man didn’t speak to him beyond checking that he had paid for his seat.

Introvert’s dream travel is what it was.

Unfortunately, arrival at Hasetsu Station was something entirely different…

For one, Minako-sensei was there…for two, she had plastered photos of him, photos of him when he was MUCH skinnier, around the entire platform, and for three she took the introvert inside him and smashed him to pieces.

No solitude for Katsuki Yuuri, not when he had just arrived back from almost five years abroad, and not when he didn’t stay in good contact with her while he was away…

“Honestly!!”

They were in the cab now and, as all the cabbies in town had driven Minako at some point, this cabbie was ignoring their conversation.

To be honest Yuuri was ignoring the conversation and just letting his old instructor vent. He’d had enough of people telling him what to do and being upset when he seemed unenthused about wanting to do those things. Yuuri just wanted some peace. Was that so bad?

“You didn’t even tell me when you were coming, Yuu~ri!! I had to find out from Hiroko!!”

“Are you even listening to me, Yuuri?!!”

“Ugh, if I didn’t know you for all of your life I’d be disappointed but you introverts need more than just a push from us extroverts to get out of your shell!!”

“Why did you pick today to return anyway? Worlds are today! If your flight came in any later you would have missed it!!”

That was another thing Yuuri really didn’t want to be thinking about right now.

Watching Viktor skate his routine, the beautiful routine that clearly meant something to the skater, while knowing that as much as Yuuri has been practicing it, he could never hope to fully express what Viktor did while he was skating it.

But maybe he wouldn’t even watch Worlds this time around.

Maybe Yuuri could leave Minako to drink at Yu-topia and he could escape to Ice Castle. He’d done it a few times before…would she even suspect anything?

“Are you alright, Yuuri?”

Minako’s sudden soft voice shook Yuuri out of his thoughts and he looked at her with an eyebrow raised, why wouldn’t he be alright?

Well to the outsider looking in, at least…

“You flinched all of a sudden, are you hurt? IS THAT WHY YOU CAME HOME FINALLY?!” Her voice raised high and as Yuuri winced from the volume change, he saw the cabbie do the same thing.

Honestly Minako had such little care about her surroundings and who she affects with such a loud voice…

When her arm reached out and her hand was lightly placed on Yuuri’s shoulder blades was when he realized why his body had suddenly flinched.

It wasn’t the normal dull pain he was more than used to at this point, instead his wings were absolutely throbbing in stinging sensations firing repeatedly along his nerves like a Gatling gun.

Minako’s light touch, something Yuuri has been completely fine with since he was like three, was suddenly a burden that felt like she was trying to slowly torture him.

So it’s not a surprise that Yuuri flinched away from her immediately after her fingers brushed his back.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she frowned her red lips as she looked at Yuuri with such open concern and worry that Yuuri almost teared up.

Besides Phichit, he hadn’t seen such genuine emotions concerning him in years. No matter how much Coach Celestino had tried.

His wings didn’t care about that though. No it seems like just thinking about their other host had them punishing Yuuri for separating them by so much space and having no intention of ever uniting.

But that was silly.

As much has the wings were like a separate entity from Yuuri, they were essentially part of him, and if he continued to think of them having their own mind he might have a psychotic episode…

That happened to a girl from the college who saw her mark and didn’t try and get with the bearer of it until almost a month after…

It was used as an example to the public as to why people shouldn’t ignore the pain in their marks.

All a load of hooey if anyone ever found out how long Yuuri had gone with the horrible pain in his mark; surely he wasn’t the first to think they were unworthy of their soulmark match.

Yuuri shook his head lightly and smiled at Minako, hoping that she’d get his point and stop fretting over him like a mother duck. As much as Yuuri loved her, he didn’t want anyone to upset themselves about his issues.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright, Yuuri?”

Her concern was so genuine that he wanted to hug her tight and not let go ever.

Sure Yuuri had Phichit for the past three years, but the figure skating circuit was still cut throat and it seemed like everywhere he turned there was just false care. Though that might just be the anxiety talking, it always made him analyze every meeting like it was a national security measure.

It kind of sucked.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay, Minako-sensei.”

Yuuri wasn’t lying or skirting the truth this time. He actually felt like he would be okay, and that was nice to feel after a depressive episode like the one he had been having.

The rest of the cab ride was relatively quiet, the cabbie choosing to engage Minako in some small talk to give Yuuri a bit of a break. As small of a town as Hasetsu was, it wasn’t too much of a shock that the man had recognized Yuuri.

Except he kind of wished no one knew who he was right now, just so he could melt into the background and be a nobody again for a little while.

Well more of a nobody than he has been.

Yuuri was the one to first see the gates of Yu-topia, and he felt his heart skip a beat and the wings on his back throb in tandem with the muscle.

It was home.

He hadn’t been here for almost five years, but it still rang out with that distinct home feel that he missed whenever he saw similar houses along the Detroit streets.

Not that any of them could ever be like his traditional Japanese home, but some came close, at least aesthetically.

The cab stopped while Yuuri was busy admiring the home he had lived in for such a long time and hadn’t been to in so many years, and he would have kept daydreaming if the phone in his pocket didn’t buzz.

Yuuri knew who it was without even turning the darn thing on.

And sure enough, Phichit’s name glowed brightly in the back of the cab car and a light smile stretched across Yuuri’s face. His back pain was forgotten in light of talking, or texting, with his best friend again.

Swiping the screen to the home page greeted Yuuri with a lime green text bubble.

‘I kno ur bak in JPN now, YUURI!! I lookd up ur deets!! U arrive ok??’

The text speak was horrible, and he needed to scrub his eyes behind his glasses but Yuuri got the gist of the question and responded back.

‘I have no idea how you can type like that, but I’m fine. Landed fine, traveled fine, about to head in to the inn actually. Go to sleep and train well in the morning, Phichit-kun!’

Yuuri was always a fan of actually using grammar in his texts. Probably because English was hard enough without adding in slang, slang spelling, and multiple meanings.

He honestly had no idea how Phichit could do it…

“Yuu~ri!! What are you doing?!! Let’s go greet your parents!!”

Minako yelled loudly and waved her hand between Yuuri’s face and his phone, the cab wheels squeaking a little as the cabbie pulled away.

Yuuri startled a bit but smiled at Minako to show he was fine before frowning when he realized they were at the front of the inn.

“Minako-sensei…why are we going in the front? We can just go in the back…”

“Nonsense! This is a grand homecoming!! Going through the front is fitting!!”

Grabbing his bags so he couldn’t try and sneak away, Minako started walking towards the front with a large smile and wide steps.

Yuuri followed with a sigh, as much as he’d like to save himself the pain of the front, he knew that he had better luck in single-handedly stopping a typhoon than convincing Minako of doing something besides what she decides to.

She was stubborn like that.

So he did what he always did when Minako decided he needed to do something that he didn’t want to do. Put his head down and focused on the pain in his back.

Focusing on something would make the unpleasant task go faster, and sometimes it even worked to filter out the more intense pain and make if feel as dull as everywhere else.

Maybe it was bad to not approach Viktor about his back, what if his soulmark was actually doing serious damage to it? There was no data on what a painful soulmark did to someone physically because no one ever stayed away from their match long enough for it to be an issue.

Even if the two matches didn’t end up together, no one would voluntarily go through so much pain just to keep the other unaware of their matching status.

Well, no one besides Yuuri anyway.

He always was good at being the one on the outside of the status quo.

It happened at school; it happened in the skating rink, it happened in social events, hell it even happened in college…

Pretty sure he was one of the only skaters to actually manage to complete both a Bachelors and a Masters while also competing.

Not Yuuri’s fault that his mom always stressed the importance of his studies…he grew up keeping a good balance, it was hard to suddenly just push that all aside after leaving the house.

Besides he was a good influence on Phichit that way.

And of course, while Yuuri got so sucked in to his own thoughts, he had entered the front door and his mother was in front of him now.

“Okaeri, Yuuri!”

“Tadaima…Okaa-san…”

Chapter Text

For a long while all Yuuri could do was soak in the image his mother was presenting in the entrance of the Inn.

She looked just like she always has but for some reason to Yuuri it felt special, like he was taking his first drink of water after days in a desert.

It had been so long since he’d seen her that he just wanted to take in any, and all, physical changes that may have happened. Even though, just like Minako, she hardly aged a day.

Of course, as usual, Minako had to interrupt Yuuri’s thoughts by noticing just what Yuuri didn’t want her to.

“Eh! Hiroko!! Have you lost weight?!” Minako looked so excited for his mother that Yuuri tried to smile, because he was glad but also trying to hide the fact that his mother looks thinner solely because Yuuri was bigger.

“Nope! Haven’t lost a kilo!! However, you, Minako-senpai haven’t changed at all!! Even with all the drinking you do, you’re so thin~”

Yuuri’s mom was so enthusiastic in her compliment that he was hoping Minako would ignore him and just accept in without grace like she normally did. But that was too much to ask for with a thing like Karma that seemed to curse Yuuri’s very existence.

Minako’s head turned towards Yuuri quite slowly, and he thought idly that she belonged in one of the many horror novels he liked to read. His own demon.

“Yuu~ri!” her voice was sweet but Yuuri knew what was coming and he stiffened suddenly, Minako’s eyes glinting with that shine she got when she was about to do something her victim wouldn’t like very much.

“What have you got on underneath all those layers?!!”

And as if predicting the future, Minako started to passionately remove every single one of Yuuri’s insulating layers, until it was just him, his compression undershirt and his long-sleeved travel shirt. With Minako’s shrill screams playing background it the reveal.

“Hahaha~ you look just like your mother!”

Yuuri turned around at the voice and smiled when he saw his dad smiling in the little window off to the side of the entrance. Just like everyone else, he hadn’t changed a bit while he was gone.

“Otou-san.” Yuuri continued to smile lightly, until Minako started to yell again.

“Toshio-san! This isn’t something to laugh about!! This isn’t the shape of a professional figure skater!!” Minako was pointing at Yuuri’s gut and he laughed nervously while trying to cover it with his shirt.

The compression undershirt made it easier for him to skate but it didn’t exactly hide the fact that he was overweight…

“Haha~ well you always did gain weight easily~ But it doesn’t matter. Make sure to eat lots of katsudon tonight!”

“Yes! We need to properly congratulate you on your graduations Yuuri! It’s still a shame we weren’t able to make it to even one.” His mom put a hand on her cheek in her normal, that’s-so-sad pose, and Yuuri smiled.

Which dimmed quickly when he remembered the most important thing he needed to do after arriving at the house.

“That sounds great, okaa-san, tou-san, but first…”

Yuuri didn’t even have to finish his sentence before his parent’s eyes lit up with understanding.

“Of course, of course~ go greet Vicchan, Yuuri. The katsudon can wait.” His mom and dad were both smiling at him, as he handed his luggage over to Minako and slipped off his shoes.

He walked to the memorial room with purpose, the layout of his childhood home coming back to him rather easily after five years abroad, it was his home for most of his live after all.

The room was still the same, and the alter had his grandparents’ memorial markers as well as an uncle’s on his mother’s side and a close cousin from his father’s. And in the front, was a picture of Yuuri with Vicchan, both smiling at the camera.

Well as much as a miniature poodle could smile.

Yuuri felt the tears well up in his eyes, and the pain in his heart easily took the hold over his body away from the wings on his back. He didn’t even get to see Vicchan before he died.

He was away abroad, more or less doing nothing of value besides getting a degree or two, and his precious dog was getting older and older until he passed away.

He was a selfish owner.

Even though he knew Vicchan was probably quite happy with is life when he died, Yuuri still can’t help but feel that maybe his poodle resented him for leaving.

But that thought was fleeting and left his mind as soon as he knelt down to give his respects to his beloved dog.

Negative thoughts are unneeded when apologizing to a companion.

‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to see you off Vicchan. I hope that your life was as happy as I thought it was, and that you passed on without any pain and with as much vigor as you had when you were younger. I wish I could have been here with you, instead of halfway around the world.

But I needed to try. To try for the sake of the wings on my back and for your namesake. I wanted to win this time Vicchan. I wanted them to see me…so that maybe…maybe I would be worthy of the mark on my back…that the gods didn’t make a mistake and that Viktor and I are soulmates…but-’

Yuuri’s train of thoughts were cut off by the opening of the door from the hallway. He turned at the noise and smiled at the sight of his older sister leaning against the door frame.

She was lighting a cigarette nonchalantly, like she wasn’t seeing her brother for the first time in years. But it was an aspect about her that Yuuri always loved. Her ability to be the most chill person in the room no matter what was going on.

“Okaeri, Yuuri.”

“Mari-nee-san…sorry to come when it’s so busy…”

“Meh, how long are you gonna stay in Hasetsu? Are you gonna help out with the hot springs some?”

Yuuri blinked rapidly for a few seconds, surprised that his sister would jump straight in to these questions, normally she gave a bit more time before asking the touch questions.

“Eh…Where’s this coming from?”

She blew out a puff of smoke and took her cigarette in hand as she looked at him with unimpressed eyes. Something else Yuuri loved about her, her ability to smell bullshit from a kilometer away. Except maybe not right now.

“You went and studied at a college and even got two degrees out of it. So what are you gonna do with that? I mean if you wanna keep skating I’ll support you, but you’ve got some things to figure out don’t you?”

“I mean I still need to think about it, Mari-nee-chan, I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well you’ve got time. I just wanted to make sure that you were thinking about. Go and soak in the hot springs, the trip couldn’t have been easy.”

And just as quickly as she came in to the memorial room, Mari left and headed back to her duties around the inn.

TBC…for a while

Chapter Text

This is the last time I'm dealing with rude people. I am done with the YoI fandom. This fic is now discontinued. And I will not be coming back to it. Ever. I have too many bad memories of YoI now, I can't even handle looking at this or the show in general. I'm done. Thanks for ruining a good thing for me. 

I don't care if I'm "letting them win" or whatever. I'm fucking done with this fandom. 

I'm still trying to decide if I should take this down or leave it up, and I'm leaning towards taking it down. 

It was a nice run y'all, thanks for being super nice and everything. And thanks for reminding me why I stick to my rare-pair corner. 

Peace out, 

Scream