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Chapter Text

Ever since Yuuri was born, he had never gone a day without the snowflake on his stomach. The palm-sized mark was an ethereal white and its raised edges was always a fascination for his young mind. The mark sat nestled above his bellybutton and Yuuri never knew what it meant until one day he ran his fingers across the points of the snowflake whilst crying and felt the tips of his fingers tingle; a wave of calm and warmth followed the tingle and settled against his mind like the missing piece of the puzzle. Then slowly, Yuuri heard the echo of another heartbeat, and the sounds of two heartbeats beating in tandem reverberated in the silent plains of his mind.

That was the first time Yuuri felt that he wasn’t alone in the world and to his young five year old mind, this was his first taste of love. Love so deep and natural that it felt like he was finally whole. That he was finally born without missing half of his soul.

The first time Yuuri skated on ice was at the tender age of seven, and it was the next best thing since he discovered that soulmates existed. His small, clumsy hands were tenaciously braced against the biting cold of the ice and when he pushed himself up, his palms were littered with cuts. The sight of his scraped palms were secondary.

The only thing that Yuuri could focus on was the swish swish sounds of the blades meeting the ice, the cold air against his skin, and the feeling of freedom under his feet. Tinkling, uninhibited laughter left his lips as he clumsily propelled himself forward. The joy and love that blossomed inside his chest was breathtaking. Yuuri was ecstatic because ice skating was the first thing he had discovered for himself. It was the first thing that was his and his alone. The only thing that nobody else could control or take away from him. That was the first time he understood what it meant to feel alive.

The next few years of Yuuri’s life was dedicated to the ice and every chance Yuuri had, he would instinctively return to his place of refuge, where loneliness couldn’t reach him and where the harsh, painful words of his classmates were left behind.

On the ice, Yuuri didn’t crave the friendship of his peers. The ice filled the feeling of isolation and loneliness in his chest and he didn’t feel as numb. It was ironic because ice was supposed to be cold, harsh and cruel, but for him, it was the opposite. The world was crueler than ice could ever be and there wasn’t a day that has gone by that Yuuri wasn’t reminded of this.

The hateful words and callous fists that leave bruises on tender skin trailed after Yuuri like shadows every day in school, and his only respite was the soulmark on his skin and the kingdom of ice under his feet.

His only friends were Takeshi and Yuuko, and when he was with them, the burdens of the world lessened and Yuuri saw everything in a softer light. Slowly, Yuuri came out his shell and with every glide on the ice, his wings unfurled. Yuuri’s back straightened and he bore the weight of the world on steady shoulders and a fortitude of inner strength and optimism.

But one day, in the blink of an eye Yuuri’s world shattered and his sense of self was torn asunder and all that was left was a pitiful inhuman creature filled with aimlessness, anxiety and fear.

Chapter Text

 Yuuri gazed up at the tall building in front of him with awe and excitement. This was his first ballet lesson and his 11 year old self was so nervous that he had nearly bolted before the lesson even started. His best friend, Yuuko, must have foreseen his reaction because she reached down and squeezed his hand.

“It’s ok Yuuri-kun. We’ll be in the same class!” Yuuri met his best friend’s sweet, encouraging eyes and gave her a shy nod. Yuuko gave his hand another squeeze before she pulled him into the building and up the stairs.

Yuuri carefully placed his sneakers near Yuuko’s and took his first step into the studio. The studio walls were a light pastel pink colour that gleamed in the bright white light of the room and the floorboards were made of dark chestnut wood that felt as smooth as marble on the soles of his feet. The pastel pink colour brought a flutter of happiness in his chest and Yuuri shot Yuuko a shy smile before taking a seat on the floor.

Yuuri fiddled with his zipper and glanced at the other students in his class, and was slightly horrified when he realized he was the only male student in the class. The feeling of isolation ran through his veins so fast it left him breathless and Yuuri bundled the edges of his jacket in his fist when he felt the derisive stares, harsh whispers and pointing fingers prickle his skin like poison filled-thorns. Yuuri focused on the soul mark above his belly button and the feeling of fleeting tickles on his skin made him smile. Yuuri straightened and gathered strength from the gentle thumping of his soulmate’s heart, and slowly the anxiety that ran through his veins like fire dulled until it completely disappeared. All that was left behind was the warm hum of his soul mark, and fond grin blossomed on his cheeks.

The grin didn’t even leave Yuuri’s lips when the door opened and a tall figure dressed in grey sweatpants and a body-fitting shirt walked in. The last tendrils of doubt drained away at the sight of his teacher. His male teacher. His teacher’s dark brown hair accentuated the strong angular jawline of his face, and the stubble on his chin gave him a formidable larger-than-life appearance that was further highlighted by his 1.75 metre tall physique. This was the first time Yuuri had attended a class by a male teacher so Yuuri couldn’t help the feeling of excitement bubbling under his skin.

“Good morning class! My name is Ray Eto and I am your new teacher.” Ray-sensei gave the class a warm smile and a friendly wave before the lesson began. Yuuri’s first lesson was exhilarating and the feeling of the wooden barre underneath his palm was spell-binding. By the end of the lesson, Yuuri was covered in sweat and grinning like a fool, even though his thighs ached and his feet turned numb. Yuuri left his first ever ballet lesson feeling like he could conquer the world and as he collapsed face-first into his bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about how amazing his new teacher was and how Ray-sensei represented possibility and hope.

Over the next few weeks, every time the bell rung Yuuri walked as fast as he could to his ballet lessons with an eager rhythm in his steps and a cheerful glint in his eyes. Today was a special day because it was his birthday, and the beautiful swirling mist of orange, brown and yellow leaves that greeted him everyday made it seem like nature was celebrating alongside him. Yuuri turned his eyes up towards the sky and watched the mesmerizing leaves dance in the wind until he reached the pristine-white building that housed the ballet studio.

Yuuri stuffed his hands into the warm pockets of his fluffy royal-blue winter jacket, and unwound the pink wool-knitted scarf that Yuuko made, from his neck. When Yuuri entered the studio, there was no one there and he blushed when he realized that he was an hour early. In his enthusiasm Yuuri forgot the time and rushed over. Sheepishly, Yuuri sat down and removed his ballet attire from his gym bag before slipping into the changing room.

After he finished changing into tights and a black v-neck, Yuuri deftly pulled on his ballet shoes and tightened the straps before starting his stretches. Fifteen minutes in his mind was so focused on his practice that Yuuri didn’t even register the new presence in the room until a familiar calloused palm touched his shoulder.

Yuuri whirled around and nearly lost his footing but the hand on his shoulder steadied him with practiced ease.

“Woah. Easy there, Yuuri-chan.” His teacher’s kind voice was a balm to his nerves, and Yuuri blushed and bowed his head in gratitude.

“Ray-Ray-sensei. Thank you...”

“No need to thank me. What are you doing here so early?”

Yuuri cast his eyes down and worried his lips between his teeth. Yuuri wanted to blurt out his excitement and proudly announce that today was his birthday, but the words shriveled up in his throat like a dying plant.

Yuuri fiercely wanted to celebrate his birthday with someone other than his family and his two friends, but he had no one else except Yuuko and Takeshi. Deep inside his heart Yuuri yearned for attention like a starved animal and the only thing that he wanted was for someone to just see him; however before he could gather the courage to speak his thoughts, his throat closed up and his teeth clicked shut. Yuuri ground his teeth in frustration and glared at the floorboards.

He was so lost in thought that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a large, calloused palm cup his cheek. Yuuri’s slightly misty eyes met Ray-sensei’s gentle, understanding irises.

“I’m sorry- how could I ever forget? It’s your birthday.”

Yuuri’s head jerked and his eyes widened in surprise and awe. The utter joy that zapped through his body electrified him until he nearly vibrated out of his skin with breathless happiness. A second later, Yuuri was gently tugged into his teacher’s embrace.

When Ray-sensei released him, Yuuri’s chest was full of fluttering butterflies of elation and he stared up at his teacher with awe and teenage-worship. Yuuri gripped his teacher’s hand and mumbled out a soft: “Thank you, Ray-sensei! You remembered my birthday! That’s so cool-”

The answering smile on Ray-sensei’s face was mischievously happy with a hint of something undiscernible in the corners of his eyes.

“Of course I do. Of course I remembered my favourite student’s birthday!”

His teacher squeezed his hand, before saying: “Close your eyes, Yuuri-chan.”

Yuuri obediently closed his eyes and felt a piece of silk brush his against cheeks before it snaked around his head. The material was tied off at the back of his head and Yuuri ran his fingers across the soft fabric in curiousity.

“There you go. Does it hurt?”

Yuuri shook his head and gave his teacher a kind, reassuring smile because he didn’t want his teacher to feel bad about giving him a surprise gift!

“-But what is this for, sensei?”

Ray-sensei gave Yuuri’s hand another gentle squeeze before guiding him forwards.

“I have a surprise birthday present for you, so you can’t open your eyes, ok?”

Yuuri was led out of the studio and up a flight of stairs and during the whole walk, Ray-sensei was quiet but gentle. The urge to tug his blindfold off was enormous, but the nervous and excited bubbly feeling in his stomach distracted him from this urge.

The next thing Yuuri knew they had reached to their destination and the door behind him closed with a low snick. His teacher’s palm was splayed against his back and Yuuri was gently pushed forward and guided to a seat.

Yuuri’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he felt how soft the material was. In bewilderment, Yuuri reached up to tug his blindfold off when a hand suddenly wrapped around his wrist.

“Sen-Sensei?- What-”

The next few seconds happened in a blur. Yuuri’s small body was violently shoved backwards and he landed on his back. Disoriented, Yuuri didn’t struggle until he felt cold metal encircle his wrists. His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach when he realized that the cold, hard metal was handcuffs. Yuuri sobbed when a cruel hand gripped his hair and yanked his head backward.

Another hand snaked towards his hips, and in the blink of an eye, his tights were brutally yanked down. The feeling of cold air hitting his thighs and his stomach made all his nerve-endings flare with panic. Yuuri clawed and kicked like a feral animal until he felt like he was choking on bile, but the hand gripping his hair didn’t let up an inch. Yuuri gasped out a strangled scream when another hand circled his throat and squeezed until his head went numb and his chest pulsed with agony. Every nerve in Yuuri’s body felt like it was set on fire and dunked into acid, and his head buzzed with so much white noise that Yuuri feared that his brain had been melted.

The agony slowly dulled and his consciousness struggled to stay away from the dark fingers of darkness. Yuuri’s terrified mind fought to stay awake because he knew that if he passed out, there would be nothing but death at the end of the road, however in the blink of an eye, just as Yuuri was about to slip into unconsciousness, he was savagely yanked back.

Yuuri inhaled the first sweet lungful of air like a starving man before a fit of uncontrollable coughs wracked his frame. Distantly, Yuuri could hear someone wailing like a wounded animal and when the cobwebs in his mind cleared, he realized that he was making those awful pitiful whines. His body shook even harder from the adrenaline rush and it felt like live electricity was running under his skin.

His own tears felt like lava-hot brands against his skin and the salt of his tears were a mocking whisper on his cheeks. Yuuri’s body was as weak as a new-born colt, and he couldn’t do anything apart from half-heartedly flailing when he was grabbed and hauled upright.

Desperation raked across his lungs and Yuuri’s weak, raspy voice croaked out frantic pleas of “pleasenono- Please-STOP! No-”

But it fell on deaf and cruel ears.

Instead, the monster kept one hand near Yuuri’s neck while the other hand retracted towards the drawstring of his sweatpants. At the rustle of clothing, a wave of ice cold numbness washed through his veins and his mind felt like it was unanchored from reality. Every cell in Yuuri’s body was saturated with resignation and his limbs sagged like a cut-off, discarded puppet. With a detached sense of numb despair, Yuuri’s wrists were jerked forward and his palms were viciously pressed against a hard, warm length. The length under Yuuri’s paralyzed hands was rough and when it throbbed, the cold, dead blanket in his mind thawed because, for a millisecond, it reminded him of his soulmate’s heart beat, but a moment later, disgust welled up like a tsunami wave at the thought of his soulmate being compared to this monster.

Then lightning fast, the hand that landed like a heavy, hot brand on his neck moved back to his hair, and Yuuri gritted his teeth and whimpered when his hair violently gripped. A mouth was placed against the shell of his ear and Yuuri wanted to scream when fear surged against the fragile walls of his sanity.

A breathy chuckle followed by a long, perverse lick on the sensitive shell of Yuuri’s ears made him want to gouge his eyes out.

“You’re so beautiful when you scream, Yuuri-chan ~”

The wild, untamed animal inside his chest snarled in hatred and bucked in unbridled panic, but before Yuuri could sink his teeth into Ray’s neck, fingers pried his mouth open and something hit the edges of his lips before plunging in.

Yuuri gagged around the punishing, filthy thing shoved down his throat and his jaw throbbed with pain he had never felt before. Tears streamed his face and left the blindfold soaking wet. Viciously he thought about biting down and tearing the length away like a savage, mindless beast, but the fingers cruelly pressed against the edges of his lips, kept his jaw open.

There was a throaty chuckle above Yuuri before the length moved. After that, all Yuuri could feel was punishing, brutal thrusts without a moment of respite. In Yuuri’s crippled mind, it felt like it lasted for days but in reality, it only lasted for two agonizing minutes before his molester stilled. Yuuri’s throat sagged in relief and he instantly felt bile surge up his oesophagus. The urge to throw up hit him like a hundred-tonne truck; but his throat locked up and his mind blanked when Yuuri felt a gushing wave of thick, salty semen hit the back of his throat.

The next thing Yuuri was aware of was the soft, prickly fur of the carpet against his too-sensitive skin and the puddle of vomit next to his head. The blindfold had been taken off his head and his vision was so shaky, Yuuri felt like he was seeing hallucinations instead of reality.

Yuuri kept his eyes open when the sound of footsteps got closer to his head. Leaning over him, was the blurry face of his molester and Yuuri screwed his eyes shut and pushed his cheek away when he reached a hand forward and gently ran it through Yuuri’s hair.

“If you tell anyone... Anyone at all. I’ll hurt your precious Yuuko-chan until she breaks-”

Yuuri screwed his eyes shut even tighter as resigned tears leaked out of his eyes because he knew that he would have done anything. Anything to protect Yuuko from the same fate.

“That’s right - That’s my good boy.”

Ray’s hand gripped his chin and ran a thumb across his chapped, bleeding bottom lip before the monster stood up and turned around. As soon as the door closed, Yuuri dazedly stumbled up and in a trance Yuuri pulled on his clothes, wound his scarf around his neck to hide the forming bruises and walked toward the entrance. Yuuri huddled against the door until it clicked open again and Ray’s hand palmed the back of his neck and tugged him out…

Out of that hellish, sound-proof room.

The weight of that hand on his neck felt like a guillotine, and Yuuri couldn’t stop the instinctive flinch when that hand patted his head in a facsimile gesture of kindness.  

“See you in the next class, Yuuri-chan.”

Yuuri’s legs could barely hold him up, but with sheer force of will he locked his knees together and managed to keep standing until the view of that dark brown hair disappeared from his line of vision. As soon as Yuuri lost sight of Ray, he stumbled blindly down the stairs and away from that horrid place.

Yuuri ran and ran, until he reached the forest of trees behind the Hasetsu Ice Castle. He collapsed when he tripped over a tree root during his frantic run, and his body shuddered with aftershocks of pain, terror and despair.

Yuuri’s breaths came out in uneven, staccato pants and every breath he took felt like ash and fire. In distress, Yuuri screwed his eyes shut and curled up against a tree trunk as wave after wave of helplessness slammed through him, and when he was on the verge of passing out from hyperventilation, Yuuri desperately pressed his hands underneath his jacket and dug into his soul mark until the sharp edge of tangy panic trickled away.

The soul mark underneath his hand felt like the ice that he skated on because Yuuri knew that something died in him that day. From that day on, Yuuri couldn’t feel any warmth, even if he scrubbed his skin raw and turned up the water in the shower until it was scorching. Nothing could make him feel warm again . The only thing that Yuuri could feel was the prickling tingle of cold, and physical pain.

That day, something broke within him and there was nothing apart from the ice that brought him peace.

Chapter Text

After the ‘First Incident’, Yuuri’s life was never the same again and he became a shell of emptiness and despair. Every time Yuuri went to his ballet lessons, his abuser was there and no matter how much time Yuuri dedicated to the ice, he could never truly escape his teacher’s grasp. Slowly, Yuuri retreated back into his shell; his shoulder’s hunched and his back dropped under the weight of his secrets.

His friends started noticing how quiet he had gotten, and throughout the week Yuuko constantly shot him worried looks but every time he felt like he couldn’t stay silent any longer he remembered Yuuko’s sweet eyes filled with innocence, and Yuuri’s heart broke.

“-Yuuri-kun?”

Yuuri startled at the feeling of a lithe hand on his shoulder. Yuuko’s hand burned through the fabric of his uniform and his skin felt like it had been rubbed raw, but Yuuri ruthlessly suppressed the tremors running through his hands and gave his best friend a small smile that felt like spun glass.

“I-I didn’t hear you...Sorry Yuu-chan-”

Yuuri’s voice was a steady, nonchalant murmur, but Yuuko’s frown didn’t disappear instead it deepened. Yuuri flicked his eyes away and stared at the branches outside, because Yuuko’s stare felt like it was penetrating his soul and stripping him bare for the world to see. Yuuri wanted to run away from Yuuko’s perceptive eyes filled with concern, and Takeshi’s gruff, hovering presence.

Their concern felt stifling and it made Yuuri want to scream at them to leave him alone.

Yuuri clenched his fists together underneath his desk until the wave of irrational anger passed and he felt like he could breathe again without breaking down. Yuuri huffed out a tired sigh before he turned back and met Yuuko’s and Takeshi’s kind, concerned eyes.

“Don’t worry. Nothing’s wrong-” The lie felt like burnt cinder on his tongue.

“I just feel a bit tired and depressed lately…” With an enormous amount of effort, Yuuri managed to send both of them a sincere but tired smile.

At the sight of an honest smile, Yuuko’s warm brown eyes lost some of its desperation and misery, and the frown on Takeshi’s lips lost some of its intensity.

“You should rest more, Yuuri-kun. You can’t spend all your time at the Ice Castle all by yourself…”

Takeshi nodded, crossed his arms and gave Yuuri a stern glare.

“Yeah, Yuuko’s right. Ya need to have more fun outside. It isn’t healthy.”

“I-I can’t…” The soft, pleading whisper echoed in the silence that followed.

Yuuri held Yuuko’s eyes and willed her to understand. Willed her to drop the subject and give him this . Give him the only thing that kept him sane. His best friend must have seen a sliver of his desperation because as soon as Takeshi opened his mouth to protest, Yuuko viciously elbowed him before she gave Yuuri’s hand a reassuring pat.

“Just remember not to over practice, Yuuri-kun. Your junior competition is coming up next week.”

Yuuko eyes sparkled with excitement and Yuuri’s lips ticked up in a faint smile against his will. The only thing that brought him a mediocum speck of joy was ice skating, and when he was on the ice the voices in his head disappeared and the memories of his sins dulled. The only time Yuuri felt like he was still alive was when he was on the ice.

Now, ice skating was his sanctuary and Yuuri needed to skate as much as he needed oxygen to breathe. The memories that pressed against his eyelids every second of every day faded when his blades met the ice and Yuuri flew. The cold that nipped at his ankles and his face were a relief from the writhing mass of pain in his mind.

The darkness that shadowed his every step was held back back by the ice, and the taste of freedom was so addictive Yuuri drove himself harder and harder to pursue that fleeting feeling.

Yuuri drove himself back towards the ice because he wanted to stop feeling those perverse hands against his hips. Wanted to erase the phantom imprint of those vile hands from his thighs, his neck...his lips.

Yuuri’s eyes wandered back out the windows and he stared at the orange leaves floating in the wind. Just a few days ago, Yuuri admired the beauty of the trees and laughed at the sky because he thought that nature was celebrating his birthday with him, but that seemed like an eternity ago.

Days later, Yuuri saw the same magnificent leaves swept by the wind and felt nothing, because the world had lost its colours and everything was dark and cold.

The next five ballet lessons Yuuri attended was like eating glass. Ray’s hands trailed over his skin under the false pretense of correcting his posture, but all Yuuri wanted to do was to instantly scrub every part Ray touched. The only thing that kept him in line was Yuuko’s presence.

Yuuko’s infectious smile as she danced and her twinkling laughter gave him the strength to endure. Every time Ray placed a hand on Yuuko’s shoulders or laid a palm on her hips to support her as she balanced, Yuuri wished that his eyes had laser so he could burn that hand away from his best friend.

Every time it happened Yuuri gritted his teeth so hard, he swore he could feel his molars crack, but Yuuri kept a neutral composure until his heart was as harsh and cold as metal itself, even if Ray sent him a smug smirk whenever he caught Yuuri staring.

Yuuri took a deep breath, gripped the barre and went back to his en pointe practice. Yuuri endured through the last few lessons with a dissociated, fractured mind because if he didn’t, his mind would have collapsed under the weight of the flashbacks and raw panic simmering underneath his hypersensitive skin.

As soon as the lesson ended, Yuuri changed as fast as he could with his stomach jittering in cold fear but Ray’s stern voice stopped him in his tracks. Dread intermingled with resignation sat like a ball of iron in his stomach.

“Katsuki-kun, why don’t you stay behind for a bit. I want to help you practice some ballet techniques that would help with your jumps in ice skating.”

Yuuri didn’t want to turn around. Yuuri didn’t want to be alone with the monster again, and Yuuri felt the yearning ache to beg Yuuko to stay with him like a physical blow in his chest, but the words dried up in his throat so fast his breath hitched.

Yuuko turned around and pulled him into a one-armed hug before she ran out of the door with a warm wave.

“Bye, Yuuki-kun! See you at the Ice Castle tomorrow morning!”

The click of the door sounded like a death knoll in the heavy, oppressive silence of the room. Yuuri flinched back when Ray’s hands landed on his shoulders and he whined in distress.

“You’ve been a bad boy , Yuuri-chan. Avoiding me all week like that .” The sensation of wind against the shell of Yuuri’s ear made his skin break out in goosebumps.

Yuuri kept his eyes glued to the ground. He didn’t want to see that cruel , malevolent smirk or those dead eyes that gleamed with perverse pleasure.

Ray’s broad hands trailed up and down Yuuri’s arms and a kiss was pressed against the crown of his head. His molester’s breath fanned through the strands of his hair and Yuuri fought the urge to shiver in revulsion.

“I’ve missed your lovely smell, little one.”

One of Ray’s hands trailed down his back and slipped underneath his shirt before it brushed teasingly against the front zipper of his jeans. Yuuri gasped in shock and horror, and jerked back so fast he lost his balance but instead of hitting the floor, Yuuri’s back hit his teacher’s firm chest.

Unforgiving arms circled Yuuri’s shoulders and engulfed him in a rough and tight hold.

Yuuri’s voice panicked came out in a weak, terrified croak.

“Please...Please- I don’t want-”

The arms around Yuuri gave a warning squeeze before a palm callously gripped his chin so hard his jaw ached.

“ Shh...Shh ...don’t worry Yuuri-chan. Your lips were designed to be loved ... to be used and cared for-”

Yuuri screwed his eyes shut and prayed for someone…

Anyone to stop this but Yuuri knew that his call would go unanswered when Ray’s arms picked him up and trapped him in rock-hard embrace that crushed the air from his lungs. Yuuri’s body shook with uncontrollable shivers and his body couldn’t muster the energy to struggle and kick and punch.

The flight of stairs passed in a blur and Yuuri was once again face to face with the dark green door of that hellish room.

Yuuri barely noticed the door closing because his young body was too focused on getting enough air, but as soon as the door slammed shut a switch flipped in his mind and Yuuri struggled with mindless abandon.

Blindly, Yuuri struck out his arm and flung himself away from Ray’s arms. The arms didn’t release him, instead it tightened around him until his bones ached, so, in blind distress Yuuri sank his teeth into the arm Ray’s biceps. Blood flooded his mouth before Yuuri heard someone yelp and he was flung forward. Yuuri landed on his hands and knees in a haphazard heap and scrambled forwards.

The moment Yuuri’s hand grasped the doorknob, he was yanked back by an arm around his waist and flung backwards. Yuuri landed on his back disoriented whilst his ankle throbbed in tandem with his heart beat.

The next thing Yuuri knew, he was flipped over, his pants savagely ripped off and his face was ground down against the carpet. The cool air against his skin lasted for a second before an unimaginable pain speared through his body. Yuuri fingers scrabbled against the carpet in hysterical frenzy and dug his fingers into the coarse carpet so hard his nails bled. Yuuri’s mind felt like it had shattered and nothing made sense. It felt like he was slugging through a murky swamp.

Yuuri felt so disjointed that he didn’t even know what was up and what was down; he felt as if his mind had detached from his body and that he had finally died.

Distantly, at the back of Yuuri’s mind, he could feel the blood trailing down the back of his thighs like water, taste the salt of tears and blood on his tongue and hear tortured wailing screams beating against his eardrums. The screams were so loud that, for a brief moment, Yuuri thought that his ears had ruptured, but, to his utter horror Yuuri realized that he was the one making those feral keens.  

Yuuri gasped for breath like a drowning man as his vision blurred with tears and his throat went raw from his screams. Yuuri desperately fisted the soft fibers of the carpet until his knuckles went white and his nails dug grooves into his palms; but the agony didn’t dim one iota, instead it flared up so much that it felt like he was being skinned alive. Yuuri screwed his eyes shut and braced himself when he felt the length thrust violently in before it retracted. Yuuri’s thighs trembled with agony and every thrust sent his small body skittering across the carpet. The pain was so immense, it felt like his inner walls were being shredded by a sharp, poisoned dagger.

The slap of skin against skin echoed in the broken and desolate corners in his mind like a funeral dirge while Yuuri yearned for death. The hands on his hips were so tight and rough that Yuuri thought his bones had broken, and when those vile hands tightened even further, he yowled, because the length inside him thickened so much that Yuuri felt like he was being split in two before something warm and wet flooded Yuuri’s inner walls. As the length pulled out of him, the warm semen seeped out and trailed down his thighs, mixing with the puddle of blood until it turned into a grotesque blend of pink.

Yuuri didn’t know how long he laid there in the aftermath and destruction, but every part of his body felt like it had been infused with lead, and every limb was so unbearably heavy, Yuuri couldn’t do anything except lie there like a broken doll.

Yuuri couldn’t even move a muscle or summon the energy to flinch when a disgustingly familiar hand ran through his sweaty, tear-stained locks and ruffled his hair.

“You look absolutely stunning like this, Yuuri-chan.”

The blurry form of his rapist loomed over his small, used body, and when he could no longer shed anymore tears his vision cleared. The sight of a black and sleek hand-held camera with a red, blinking light brought a new wave of horror that surged through him so fast it left him nauseated to the depths of his stomach. Yuuri gagged and sobbed out broken pleas, praying for a miracle even when his shattered heart had already lost all hope.

“Oh yes. I forgot to mention that I had recorded all our lovely sessions together.”

“Nononononono whywouldyou- godplease-”

Ray’s voice was as sweet as poisoned nectar.

“Because I want to be able to remember all the amazing times we had together.”

Then, in the blink of an eye, Ray’s face drastically morphed and his leer turned so lethal and so sharp it could slice flesh.

“-and well...we wouldn’t want you to get any ideas. If you dare entertain any ridiculous ideas like running away, telling other people or killing yourself, I will murder your family and rape cute, little Yuuko-chan and your sister-”

Frantically, Yuuri choked out a desperate, warbled: “NO! NO! Please I won’t! I swear!-”

“-What’s her name again…? Oh yes, Mari -chan.”

Ray clucked his tongue in faux fondness and exasperation before he dropped Yuuri’s phone in front of his face, and said in a crisp, frosty tone: “Call your family. Tell them you will be staying with me until your competition because I am helping you choreograph your routine.”

Helplessness and icy resignation permeated through him, until every breath Yuuri took rattled with bitter surrender and every sob that fell out of his mouth oozed self-loathing and shame. Yuuri reached toward his phone, flicked it open and dialed his mother’s number.

When Yuuri stumbled home, it was dark and all the lights were off. Winter had just started and the snow slowly enveloped everything in a thin, ethereal blanket of white that reminded Yuuri of innocence and purity. The pang of shame and bitterness that ran through his twelve year old chest was so strong, Yuuri huffed out a harsh breath.

His purity and innocence had been ripped from him and all that was left was a charred, broken husk who could only find refuge in ice skating. Yuuri sighed and ran a shaking hand through his hair before he quietly toed off his shoes.

The darkness of the inn was illuminated by blue tinted moonlight, and that soft, unobtrusive light helped Yuuri navigate his way silently up the stairs without waking a soul. The instant Yuuri closed the door of his room and the locks clicked, his knees wobbled and he collapsed against the door in a heap of quivering limbs.

Yuuri pressed his palm against his lips to stifle the sound of his weeping; he was so afraid that he would accidentally wake his family up but he felt like he was on the edge of insanity. A second longer, the pain would have eaten him alive and drove him crazy. Yuuri could not keep the writhing mass of pain bottled up any longer, and it surged up against his sanity with ruthless vengeance.

Yuuri cupped his mouth and lunged towards the toilet bowl when bile raced up his throat. The rim of the toilet was gripped in white-knuckled fists as he emptied the meager contents of his stomach.

A few seconds of gagging on an empty stomach, the nausea disappeared and Yuuri leaned his feverish forehead against the cool rim of the toilet. Blearily, Yuuri’s hand reached up and fumbled for the button before he managed to flush the vomit away.

Then, a few minutes later Yuuri stumbled on to his weak, wobbly knees and used the sink counter to haul himself up. A pale, sickly face greeted him in the mirror.

A stranger’s face.

A face that Yuuri no longer recognized.

Yuuri’s arms were cocooned around his midsection, with a vast amount of effort, Yuuri pried one of his arms away from his body and lifted it towards his face. The reflection in the mirror copied the motion and Yuuri saw it reach towards his chin. The sight of fine trembles running through his palms, disgusted him and before the skin of his hand met his face, Yuuri fisted it.

An irrational, wild swell of self-loathing, shame and rage gushed against his skin and the feeling was unbearable. Yuuri lost track of time and his body acted without his consent. When his awareness trickled back Yuuri found himself on the floor of his bathroom bent over his arms.

Blood ran down his arms in warm trickles while the tangy smell of iron filled the dark, screeching corners of his mind, and for some reason the dark, hostile voices in his mind went blessedly silent. Yuuri was so surprised he nearly dropped the razor blade he cannibalized from his shaver into the puddle of blood, but his grip came back in full force when elation and relief smothered the whispers of negativity lurking at the back of his mind.

With a giddy sort of relief, Yuuri ran the blade across his wrist again and the bitter-sweet sting of pain was like a breath of fresh air. Yuuri was mesmerized by the sight of blood slowly welling into small, pretty beads of red on his arms and smiled. It had been a long time since he had smiled so genuinely, therefore the muscles of his cheeks felt unused, stiff and alien on his face.

Drunk on bitter-sweet relief and the invigorating sensation of being in control of something, Yuuri wanted to push his boundary, so without a second thought, he pulled his shirt up until the ethereal, delicate snowflake was revealed.

The palm-sized snowflake sat mockingly above his bellybutton, and in a dazed trance Yuuri dug the razor blade into his flesh and dragged it across the soul mark. Yuuri numbly watched as a red line appeared across the snowflake and left a cut that soaked the pristine soul mark in a flash of sharp pain, but a heartbeat later, Yuuri’s soul mark pulsed and warmth tingled from it until it drove away the numbness from his fingers and snapped his mind back from the edge.

Yuuri stared at his soul mark in complete horror, threw the razor as hard as he could and watched as the small piece of metal bounced of the wall with a miniature ting. Not long after, Yuuri pressed his wet, slick hands against his soulmark and curled around them until his forehead touched the cool tiles.

A litany of apologies fell from Yuuri’s lips like a torrent of rain.

Yuuri didn’t know what he was apologizing for, because he was apologizing for everything; he was apologizing for being damaged goods, for allowing Ray to rape him and taint him in darkness.

Maybe he was apologizing to himself because he would never be the same again. Yuuri would never be able to live normally again because his scars ran too deep and his mind was too disfigured- too defective- for anyone to ever love. Maybe Yuuri was apologizing to his soulmate because his soulmate was dealt a bad hand. Yuuri would never be worthy and could never be worthy of his soulmate, whoever they are...or maybe Yuuri was apologizing for being so selfish, because no matter how tainted, damaged and broken he was, Yuuri could not give up ice skating. Could not give up the ice for someone worthier. Someone who actually deserved to feel the joy of winning, but it didn’t matter how much Yuuri reasoned with himself. His subconscious clung to the ice like a drowning baby and Yuuri could not sever himself from his first love.

Chapter Text

 That hideous green door slammed open and the sound echoed like a gunshot against the walls. Yuuri recoiled so fast that he slammed against the bedpost hard enough to make his head ache. A silhouette blocked the doorway before it slammed the door shut and reached towards the switch. Bright light assaulted Yuuri’s senses and Yuuri blinked away the spots that danced across vision.

A girl stood near the door with one hand on her hip and an angry how-dare-you glare in her eyes. Her hair was long and wavy interwoven with colourful strands of copper blonde. Above him, Ray gave a sigh before he pulled back and fumbled for his shirt. Yuuri didn’t dare to do anything, except shuffling backwards and covering his nether regions with his hand. Humiliation and shame ran through Yuuri’s body, but in that moment, all Yuuri could have done was to hunch his shoulders up to his ears and block the rustle of fabric and the ear-grating metallic sounds of belt buckles and zippers.  

His abuser turned around and gave the petit girl a fond and exasperated look.

“What are you doing here, Hanaki-chan? I told you that this room was off-limits to-”

“I can’t believe this! I thought we were a couple!”

That was the first time Yuuri saw his teacher completely freeze, and Yuuri nearly whined in distress when Ray’s voice came out so deadly, it dripped venom.

“We were never a couple. I just felt pity for a little, pathetic girl who had been abused by her family.”

The girl’s face wore a devastated look that Yuuri could immediately relate to. She gasped out an anguished sob before tears dripped down her face.

“Wha-What! No! You told me you loved me! You told me that you would wait for me!-”

There was a ruthless and sharp smirk on Ray’s face and in the blink of an eye, the smile disappeared and mocking, derisive laughter fell from his lips.

“I lied. You were my first, Hanaki-chan, and you will always hold a place in my heart, but-”

A frosty sneer was directed at the trembling girl.

“-you’re too old for my tastes now. I have no use for useless, sniveling girls like you, so don’t come back.”

The girl seemed to have crumbled in on herself and her gasps sounded like a wild, wounded animal’s. Yuuri felt a small pang of pity and empathy in his heart for her, because she looked like she was barely out of high school; she must have been Ray’s first victim…

Suddenly, the girl whirled around and spat: “Have fun with your new toy, you fucking monster!-”

There was burning hatred and fire blazing in the depths of her eyes. She was like a ferocious, ethereal goddess of vengeance and Yuuri was spell-bound.

“You cast me aside for two damn years for-FOR HIM!”

Yuuri jerked back when she flung out an arm and pointed to his trembling, huddled frame.

“I will never forgive you for this! I will make you beg and pay for betraying me! You’re a fucking despicable creature-”

With tears streaming down her face and rage-filled animosity radiating from every pore of her body, the girl threw Ray a dirty, resentful look before she stormed out the door.

That was the first time Yuuri saw her.

The last time that he saw her was three days later when he arrived for his ballet lesson with Yuuko and the building was sectioned off with yellow police tape. Ice cold water washed down his spine because, for a second, Yuuri thought that his sins had finally been discovered, and that the hideous actions that he had committed were going to be condemned by the world, but that crippling fear abated when he saw an ambulance parked in front of the gate.

Then a flock of EMTs ran past while pushing a gurney out, and Yuuri saw her pale face among the flurry of blue and red lights. The girl, Hanaki, had an oxygen mask strapped against her mouth and her face was so pale it was like she was already dead. Her hair fanned her face and she looked like a fallen angel against the stark white sheets of the gurney. That was the last time Yuuri saw her because that day she died on the way to the hospital, and Yuuri’s little town of Hasetsu was rocked by the suicide of such a bright and young girl.

“-Yuuri? Yuu-”

Yuuri gasped and bolted upright as trails of hot, salty tears rolled down his cheeks. Yuuri’s palm clutched the comforter underneath him in a grip so tight, his hand started to tingle with numbness. The constricted feeling in his chest reminded Yuuri that he needed to take a breath, so he opened his mouth and gulped. Oxygen filled his lungs and the repetitive motion of inhaling and exhaling helped his shivers subside. Yuuri ran a shaky palm through his hair before he bit his fist. The urge to scream tapered away as the seconds ticked by, and when it felt like he wasn’t going to fly out of his skin, Yuuri turned to his companion.

Phichit was gingerly seated on the nightstand next to his bed. His friend had one hand pressed against his knee while the other hand hovered in the air between them.

Yuuri opened his mouth and closed it when his throat refused to cooperate, but as soon as Yuuri tried to speak again a cup of lukewarm water was thrust underneath his eyes.

Yuuri held the cup with weak, shaking palms and gripped as hard as he could but that was unnecessary because Phichit didn’t let go. Phichit’s fingers were delicately wrapped around the bottom of the cup, subtly supporting Yuuri’s hands without being overtly obvious about it.

Yuuri’s gratitude and love for his friend washed through him when he saw how, even when Phichit was helping him he was so hyper aware of Yuuri’s emotional state. Phitchit made sure not to allow his skin to touch Yuuri’s until Yuuri indicated that it was ok.

Yuuri’s took a deep gulp of water and the warmth that slid down his throat made it easier for him to breathe.

“Th-Thank you-”

Phichit’s eyes didn’t lose its concerned edge, but it softened minutely before his friend gave him a fond smile.

“Are you ok, Yuuri?”

Yuuri dropped his eyes down to his lap and watched as his fingers fiddled with the edge of the comforter.

“I-I don’t know-”

“No. I--I don’t think so.” To hear that admission out loud cut Yuuri to the core because he was afraid that if he acknowledged his memories, then they would haunt him until they ate him alive.

Phichit’s hand crept closer until it sat a small distance away from Yuuri’s palms. Yuuri gave a small nod towards his hands, and a second later Phichit’s lithe fingers enveloped his. Yuuri nearly pulled away when the skin on his hands crawled, but Yuuri tightened his grip and rode it out. As soon as the lingering anxiety and fear leached away, Yuuri could fully appreciate the comfort Phichit’s touch provided.

“Was it that nightmare again? The one about that girl?...”

His friend’s voice was a low, coaxing whisper. Yuuri swallowed before he gave a shaky nod.

“It-It’s been 9 years, Phichit. But why can’t I-”

His friend’s gentle arms tugged him close and Yuuri was buried in a warm embrace that left cracks in his defenses. Yuuri dug his face into Phichit’s sweater and desperately clutched his friend close. The feeling of Phichit’s unconditional friendship made Yuuri feel so safe and protected that he allowed himself to break down.

“Why. Why? -”  Silently, Yuuri sobbed against his friend’s shoulders.

Phichit kept a gentle hand running through Yuuri’s hair, and the repetitive motion calmed his panicked mind.

“What that monster did was pure evil. You can never ‘forget’ something like that, Yuuri. It doesn’t matter what society says...what other people say-”

Phichit’s voice was filled with anger on Yuuri’s behalf, and bitterness and sarcasm dripped from his friend’s tongue in spades.

The only one that Yuuri had ever told was Phichit. Yuuri moved to Detroit when he was 18 because after traveling back and forth for a year, he decided to settle in Detroit to attend school.

Yuuri was a nervous mess when he showed up at the apartment Celestino directed him to, but when he realized that his housemate was Phichit, Yuuri nearly bowled his best friend over in excitement. Phichit’s friendship saved him, because over time, Yuuri started to drift away from Yuuko and Takeshi. The secrets and scars from the two agonizing years Yuuri spent with his abuser made every day a struggle.

A struggle to live. A struggle to eat. Everything became a struggle and no matter how much support Minako-sensei gave him, there was still a gaping hole in his heart and until Yuuri shared his burden with Phichit, everyday was a struggle to find meaning.

Phichit didn't find out until 5 months into their stay with each other. If Phichit did not walk in on Yuuri that day, he would have sliced his wrist open too carelessly because on that particular day, the shadow of depression and anxiety was so strong that it drove Yuuri to cut deeper than normal.

As soon as Phichit entered the bathroom and smelled the tang of blood, he dropped the groceries and kneeled on the floor next to Yuuri. The next few minutes passed in a blur of needles, antiseptic and bandages, and Yuuri's mind snapped back into focus when Phichit started to wrap the bandages around the fresh cuts. Yuuri sat in the tense silence that followed and felt desolate because he was so sure that Phichit would have wanted to replace him with another saner roommate, but his best friend didn't say anything negative. Phichit just cleared the first-aid supplies away, sat down in front of Yuuri, and calmly asked him why he self-harmed.

Phichit’s patience anchored him until his flight instinct dissipated, and slowly the dark box of secrets buried in the murky recesses of his mind, unfurled. Yuuri told Phichit about how his 12 year old self was coerced and threatened into a sexual relationship, and for the next two years Yuuri silently suffered through it. Yuuri choked on his words and he broke down when he told his friend about Hanaki, the girl that interrupted them during one of Ray’s ‘lessons’, and how she stormed off broken and betrayed. Yuuri told him about the world of confusion that his young self was plunged into when he arrived to class and saw a different teacher. Yuuri talked about how lost and meaningless his life felt after that, and how close to the edge he was.

The relief was intermingled with anger because Yuuri didn't get closure for his pain. All Yuuri was told was that Ray Eto had moved to another country and that a new teacher had taken over. Phichit held Yuuri's hands as he started to talk about Minako-sensei. In a voice thick with emotion, Yuuri explained how his new teacher started to teach him about the potential of music and she taught him how to express his emotions through his body. Through a body that Yuuri believed wasn't worth anything but sex, anymore.

Yuuri talked and talked about how his scars healed over time, and how, slowly, he felt like he could live again.

Yuuri's voice was hoarse when he admitted that he had never told anyone about...what had happened before, when all of a sudden Phichit’s arms crushed him in a tight, shaking hug.

From then on, Phichit kept Yuuri's past behind locked lips and never breathed a word of it to another soul. Now, Yuuri trusted Phichit so much that he wasn't afraid to let his best friend see his vulnerable side because Yuuri knew that Phichit would never use it to hurt him.

“Try to get some more sleep, Yuuri. The Grand Prix Finals are coming up in two days.”

Phichit’s breath fanned across his fringe and Yuuri gave his friend a weak nod before he pulled back and scrubbed his eyes.

“O-ok.”

Phichit cupped Yuuri’s cheek and rubbed a thumb under his red, puffy eyes before his friend ruffled his hair and stood up.

“Get some rest, ok? If you need anything you know where to find me. Night Yuu Yuu!”

Phichit's words and the use of such a ridiculously adorable nickname made Yuuri splutter out a wet laugh, and the light feeling in his chest followed him into his dreams that night, and chased away the lingering vestiges of the nightmare. Yuuri fell asleep to the thought of the Finals coming up and excitement intermingled with anxiety followed him into his dreams.

Chapter Text

The chair Yuuri sat on was an uncomfortable weight against his back and his coach’s words were nothing but a distant hum among the gloomy whispers of his thoughts. The ice was a stranger, and no matter how much Yuuri tried to keep his feet steady and his nerves suppressed, the grief of Vicchan’s death overtook his mind until he couldn’t feel the music.

Yuuri was so entrenched with the scores of the Grand Prix Final that he didn’t notice anything that was going on around him until Celestino’s kind palm rested on his shoulder. Yuuri glanced up at his coach and was met with a kind, sympathetic smile.

“Yuuri, it doesn’t matter what the news says. We have time to work on it before the next Grand Prix Final.”

Yuuri didn’t reply. Instead, he grimly stared down at his phone. The feeling of inadequacy and worthlessness smothered him, and Yuuri excused himself before he broke down right then and there.

As Yuuri stumbled towards the men’s bathroom; the swirling thoughts of little Vicchan got louder and blended with the feeling of crushing defeat and disappointment in his chest. The moment the lock of his bathroom stall clicked shut, Yuuri’s tears fell like raindrops. The onset of a panic attack pushed against his mind, so Yuuri brutally pressed a palm across his lips to stifle his sobs.

Yuuri didn’t know how long hot streams of salty misery trailed down his cheeks, but he was violently snapped out of his mind when a foot slammed with the force of a sledgehammer on the door of his stall.

That was Yuuri’s first introduction to Yuri Plisetsky. Yuuri’s first introduction was abrupt and forceful and the young skater’s words were like sharp blades on his skin. Yuuri didn’t even know he could still be so affected by a stranger’s harsh words, but Yuri Plisetsky’s words crashed against Yuuri’s defenses and crumpled them in the blink of an eye. The force of the young skater’s words hit Yuuri so hard, it took his breath away and he couldn’t do anything to defend himself from those words because his heart knew it was true.

When the young skater left, Yuuri was frozen in place. He stood there looking at his reflection for two long, silent minutes with a litany the words - incompetent retire nobodywillmissme worthless - running like a broken record in the background.

Those words haunted him like a ghost, and as Yuuri walked out the hall those whispers stayed with him like a persistent leech.

The sound of his name drew Yuuri away from the sight of a tiny poodle, just his long-time idol, Viktor Nikiforov, walked pass. Viktor’s hair gleamed a dazzling, inhuman platinum blonde colour under the artificial LED lights and the dead, numb feeling in his limbs faded. Yuuri startled when the soulmark under his thick layer of clothes started pulsing. It felt like his own heart was echoed by a phantom heart, but that content, gentle hum fizzled out when Viktor turned around and said: “A commemerative photo?”

Viktor’s smile was small but it felt as empty as the cavity in Yuuri’s chest, and Yuuri couldn’t help the harsh gasp that escaped his lips.

“Sure.”

Yuuri turned around and walked out before Viktor even finished his sentence. Afraid to see his own disappointment reflected on Viktor’s face. He was a foolish, stupid optimist who thought that he could stand on the same stage as his idol one day, but today that tenacious flame was snuffed out so fast, it left Yuuri reeling.

The only thing that brought some brightness to his day was Phichit.

That night Phichit gave him a warm, encompassing hug before they parted.

“Don’t look so down. You have a lot more chances to shine.”

Yuuri clung to his friend, and even though Yuuri’s heart didn’t believe it, he gave Phichit a sad smile and a muted nod because Yuuri didn’t want to disappoint his best friend too.

Phichit pressed his cheek against Yuuri’s before he straightened and clasped Yuuri’s hands.

“This is your first time back in Hasetsu in five years. If anything happens, call me ok? If you need me to distract you through any...memories that that place brings up or just to talk you through it. Just call me anytime, ok?”

Yuuri gave Phichit a weak smile.

“I-I will. I promise.”

Phichit pulled him into another hug before his best friend headed towards his gate to check-in.

Yuuri sat by himself long after Phichit left, with only anxiety and dread as his companion and watched as the planes outside took off and landed. Yuuri’s own flight to Kyushu was supposed to be a happy one, filled with excitement and thoughts of reunion, but all Yuuri could feel was thick nausea.

 The humble jade-toned shape of Yu-topia’s archway adorned the wooden looming building in a familiar and bittersweet way. The sight brought a pang of happiness intertwined with nervousness to his mind because Yuuri had not seen his family in years. He was afraid that everybody that he knew had changed so much that there will be a chasm of difference between them.

However, Yuuri need not have worried because his petit mother raced towards him and greeted him with a bright and cheerful: “Yuuri, welcome home!”

The joy on her face made guilt well up with vengeance and Yuuri remorsely replied with a soft:

“I’m sorry it’s been five years…”

“-I”

HIs mother’s soft and gentle whisper was full of warm acceptance, and Yuuri felt all his guilt and nervousness melt away.

“It’s ok. I’m sorry I missed your graduation too, so there’s no need to apologize.”

Yuuri gave his mother a genuine smile, filled with low-burning warmth and nodded when she asked him if he wanted a pork cutlet bowl. A katsudon.

Yuuri’s eyes immediately lighted up because the thing he had missed the most was his mother’s cooking. The taste of his favourite dish could not be replicated, no matter where Yuuri went to in Detroit. There was something unique -a hint of flavour- that was his mother’s signature.

The urge to reach out and hug his mother in gratitude simmered under Yuuri’s skin, but there were too many unsaid things between Yuuri and his family that created such a strong barrier. After five years away from Hasetsu and all the horrifying memories that it held, Yuuri started to truly heal. To come out of his shell. Coming back to his hometown stirred some of those memories and Yuuri could feel some of the demons awaken.

Yuuri bit his lips and gave his mother a grateful look. The understanding glint in her brown eyes eased his tension and he turned to Minako-sensei.

Minako-sensei patted his cheek and gave it a pinch before she poked his stomach.

“You’ve gained weight again! This means you have to train more to get to a healthy weight before your next competition.”

The warning glint in his teacher’s eyes dared Yuuri to protest, and his mouth clicked shut so fast his teeth clacked together noisily.

“Um...I’ll go see Vicchan now…”

The sight of Vicchan’s altar was bittersweet, and Yuuri allowed himself to fully acknowledge that grief. He didn’t know how long he sat there with Vicchan’s memories running like a movie behind his eyelids until the door slid open.

Mari greeted him with a nonchalant wave and asked him if he wanted to take over the family’s hot spring business. The implicit meaning in her words followed Yuuri all the way to the Ice Castle, and at the Ice Castle Yuuri met Yuuko again for the first time in five years.

His childhood friend was still as bubbly as Yuuri had remembered. The feeling of her nickname, Yuu-chan, on his tongue felt right and the awkwardness between them thawed. Within moments, Yuuri had opened up and before he knew it, he had asked Yuuko to watch him skate.

The feeling of the ice that Yuuri had spent half of his life on, was like falling into a lover’s embrace and Yuuri’s heart sang out in delight. The notes of Stammi Vicino reverberated along the Ice Castle’s cavernous walls and the singer’s haunting voice was a reflection of his own conflict. Yuuri’s own yearning to carry on ice skating clashed with his insecurities.

The product of Yuuri’s inner battle was written across the ice as he danced with abandon. Yuuri let go of his control, and when he trusted it to the ice beneath his feet, every glide felt like flying. The music rose to a high crescendo before it pattered off and when Yuuri opened his eyes, the glaring lights of the ceiling greeted him.

Yuuri could feel the elated grin on his face and the muscles of his cheeks felt like a rubber band being stretched to its limit. The hum of joy that lingered with him that day quietened the inky fingers of his dark memories.

That only lasted a few hours before Yuuri’s comfortable bubble was popped.

Unbeknownst to him, Yuuko’s daughters recorded his skate and posted it on the internet where it went viral. That was the last straw on the camel's back; Yuuri switched off his phone and burrowed into his bed, determined to forget about the absurdity of the world.

Yuuri’s idyllic life changed from that day onward and destiny reeled him into its webs. Yuuri’s life was forever changed and his soulmate finally came knocking on his door.

The next day, Yuuri woke up to the crawling sensation along the edges of his soulmark, however Yuuri quickly dismissed that feeling and chalked it up jet lag, so he started the day normally by doing his chores.

Yuuri thought nothing of the sight of a large brown poodle on the ground floor of the inn, and gave the eager, affectionate dog a few pats. Yuuri sat there, playing with the dog, relishing in feeling of a poodle’s curls on his skin and allowing the memories he had with Vicchan to flow through him.

After a while, the alarm bells in Yuuri’s head went off because an owner wouldn’t leave his dog for so long unless something came up, so Yuuri went to search for the customer. Yuuri peeked into the hot springs changing area and did not see any leftover clothes so he padded inside, hoping to find his mother, father or sister.

“Mom? Are you in- OH MY GOD!-”

Yuuri’s shriek was so loud he winced when his own scream hit his ears.

There, submerged in the hot springs was Viktor Nikiforov. Viktor’s pale skin was flushed with heat  and he wore a wide, predatory smirk on his face. Viktor’s glinting sky-blue eyes lit up with recognition and he pushed himself up.

“Yuuri!”

The sound of his name rolled off Viktor’s lips like honey and Yuuri went as red as a tomato. The blood rushed to his face so fast that it left him speechless. The only thing Yuuri could do was to gape at the living legend before him in all Viktor’s naked glory…

Yuuri couldn’t understand the confusing hum underneath his skin and the urge to trust Viktor with all his being until Yuuri saw a palm-sized blue snowflake across Viktor’s muscular stomach. The flash of heat that ran through him when his eyes landed on Viktor’s soulmark was electrifying, and somehow, Yuuri managed to stay upright.

Yuuri knew every corner, every point and every detail of his soulmark like the back of his hand and he knew, without a shred of doubt and deep within his bones, that his soulmark was an exact copy of Viktor’s.

Yuuri had found his soulmate.

Chapter Text

The person sprawled on the inn’s wooden floorboards was so fit and breath-taking, Yuuri couldn’t take his eyes of him. Viktor shifted and rolled around. The strips of tantalizing skin was unabashedly put on display, and Yuuri wanted to groan at the sight of his soulmate’s mischievous attitude. Viktor propped himself up on one elbow and sent Yuuri a wide smirk when he caught his future pupil staring.

Yuuri blushed and averted his eyes to the tip of his knobbly knees where his fingers were drawing nervous patterns. The sight of his soulmate there was like a dream. A dream wrapped in a nightmare.

The confession lingered on the tip of Yuuri’s tongue like a bitter pill and even though, the selfish part of his subconscious poured liquid courage into the quavering, cowardly parts of Yuuri’s mind, another part wanted to flee as fast and as far away as possible.

The next time Yuuri glanced at Viktor his resolve hardened and he swallowed his words and locked them tight behind impenetrable walls. Viktor’s eyes were a bright sky-blue that Yuuri didn’t even know could exist and Yuuri was mesmerized by the intensity under those irises.

Those eyes reaffirmed his will, and Yuuri’s chest expanded in relief. Viktor deserved someone better than Yuuri: someone who wasn’t second-hand goods, someone with confidence and strength, but most of all, someone who wasn’t a weak coward.

Yuuri clenched his eyes shut tightly and bit his lips until the wave of loss surged through him. It felt like his heart was being ripped open and bled dry, but, Yuuri clamped his hands and dug his nails into his palms and, furiously waited for the tears in his eyes to dissolve.

Yuuri was so absorbed in the battle with his tears, he didn’t notice Viktor had cocked his head to the side and was watching him with a skin-peeling stare.

“Yuuri.”

The whisper wafted against the shell of his ear and Yuuri couldn’t help the shiver that ran up his spine before he flinched back, but the arm that snaked around Yuuri’s shoulder like a warm blanket kept him from leaping back.

“Tell me about yourself. I want to know everything …”

Viktor’s eyes were hooded and the strength in that gaze made Yuuri’s breath hitch.

“I-I”

Yuuri swallowed before he cleared his throat and tried to push the words out.

“There’s nothing- nothing special-” Yuuri stammered. His cheeks were so heated, people could use them to cook food.

At the sight of Yuuri’s hopeless stammers, Viktor’s eyes softened and his smirk turned into a small, fond grin.

“We can talk about coaching fees after you win the medal, but for now, you need to start training again, Solnishko.”

Viktor’s smile turned sharp again, and the alarms bells in Yuuri’s head went off when Viktor’s large hand ran through the black strands of his hair in a caress and cupped his cheek.

The only thing Yuuri could do was to freeze in shock because all he wanted to do was to nuzzle against Viktor’s palm like a cat.

“We’ll begin tomorrow and I won’t go easy on you, Solnishko~”

 The week passed in a blur of endless training, so much so, that Yuuri’s stirring memories had no chance to manifest as nightmares. Everyday, Yuuri would barely be able to crawl into his bed before he passed out cold. The days started to blend together and Yuuri couldn’t even imagine what it was like before Viktor unceremoniously barged into his life.

Viktor came like a whirlwind and swept Yuuri off his feet, with hands that were gentler than its appearance suggested, and smiles that were so bright it stole Yuuri’s breath away. Viktor was like a fresh spring breeze, bringing life into his dull world and making new colours bleed into his view, until the sky was a brilliant azure and the grass was a vivid green.

Yuuri didn’t even know he needed Viktor’s magnetic light, until he was pulled into his soulmate’s orbit. Viktor brought with him so many opportunities that Yuuri would never have been able to create. That was why Yuuri was here now, standing alongside Yurio as Viktor sailed across the ice.

The young Russian skater arrived a few days ago, and at first Yuuri was wary, but soon they were training partners and tentative friends. Yurio was a bright skater with a scary well of untapped potential that Yuuri admired. The boy was fierce and determined but his exterior was prickly.

Once Yuuri saw past Yurio’s armour, he saw how sincere and how awkward the boy was, and he empathized with the young skater. Till this day, love and attention still stumped him and whenever Yuuri was faced with it, his stomach would curl up in knots and his mind would blank out; Yuuri saw the same inability to handle affection in Yurio, so every push from his small blonde friend wasn’t taken personally. Yuuri saw himself in Yurio, but he would never say that aloud because Yuuri was afraid to hear the young blonde’s answers.

Maybe Yurio didn’t consider him a friend?

No...It was better he never knew the answer to that question.

“Oi, what do ya want, Katsudon!”

An embarrassed blush stained his cheeks and Yuuri glanced down before he mumbled out an uncertain question that had been plaguing his mind.

“Do you think you can land all your jumps, Yurio?”

Yurio rolled his eyes and snorted.

“Of course I can. What type of question is that? Think about yourself, dumbass.”

Yuuri’s lips ticked up in amusement at Yurio’s annoyed tone before Yuuri’s eyes trailed back to Viktor. To his powerful, precise strokes across the rink and the commanding presence of his platinum-blonde soulmate.

There was no error in Viktor’s skating. He was all accurate lines and razor-sharp movements. Nothing was unaccounted for. Every glide, every expression, every spin was so impeccably exquisite that Yuuri knew he could never do the routine justice, so when Viktor waved him over, Yuuri warily skated to him.

“Did you get that, Yuuri?” Viktor’s voice was husky with exhilaration.

Yuuri could only nod vigorously in reply when the silence stretched on.

“I know you can do this.” The faith in Viktor’s eyes made self-doubt bubble up in Yuuri’s esophagus. If he had opened his mouth, nothing but apologies would fall out because he knew he wasn’t able to do the routine justice.

“I don’t think I-”

Suddenly, Viktor’s face was mere centimeters away from his. Yuuri could feel Viktor’s breath fan across his own lips in a mocking caress and Viktor’s hooded, blazing eyes made Yuuri’s knees go weak.

“You have all the skill you need to win. Why can’t you do it, Moyo Zolotse?”

In a dazed trance, Yuuri felt a large, familiar palm on his chin. A second later, Yuuri’s face was tugged up and when Yuuri peeked out at Viktor from the curtain of his bangs, he was met with naked, sincere curiosity.

Yuuri sighed a nervous huff before he mumbled out an answer.

“That’s because...I-I lack confidence.”

The truth sat like a ball of iron on Yuuri’s tongue, and Viktor must have seen a glimpse of it because his soulmate’s eyes softened.

“Now, that’s my job to make you feel more confident in yourself, so leave it up to me ok?”

Yuuri nodded in relief, but his brain short-circuited when his soulmate ran a callous thumb across his lips. Viktor whispered and every breath lightly grazed Yuuri’s cheeks.

“No one in the world knows what your true Eros is, Yuuri.”

Viktor’s eyes were like live electricity and Yuuri felt like a prey being pinned underneath a predator.

“It’s an alluring side of you that you, yourself, are unaware of. I’m waiting for the day you show it to me-”

Viktor’s eyes and mouth followed him all the way back to the ballet studio. The words that were whispered in the charged space between them, clung to Yuuri like a limpet.

“-So think long and hard about what Eros means to you, Solnishko.”

Days after Viktor’s words, Yuuri was no closer to figuring out what Eros personally meant to him. He even googled up the meaning of Eros and the only thing that he had found didn’t help.

The only meaning that Eros held was sexual passion, and when he saw the confirmation of the meaning of that word glaring at him from his screen, Yuuri’s mind blanked out and he had the first panic attack, since he arrived in Hasetsu.

The inky fingers of his memories dragged him into a hole so deep, he could only feel phantom hands and excruciating bruises where none should have been. For hours, Yuuri couldn’t feel anything but those bruises. Could see nothing but the disgusting, mild beige walls of that room . Could hear nothing but the echoes of slapping skin and grunts of sadistic pleasure.

The only thing Yuuri had experienced that constituted as sex was nothing but cold, dead agony, so whenever Yuuri practiced his routine, his moves were as frosty and numb as his feelings.

Every time Yuuri skated the routine, he felt Viktor’s eyes follow his every move. Felt Viktor’s disapproval and judgement from across the rink. Felt the shame boiling under his skin, even when he was surrounded by his kingdom of ice.

Nothing Yuuri did helped, so right before the contest held at the Ice Castle, Yuuri knocked on Minako’s door. Desperation drove him to ask her to teach him how move like a girl, because Yuuri was afraid. Yuuri was afraid that he was going to lose Viktor, and his heart was a selfish thing, no matter how much logic he plied at it.

Desperation to keep Viktor by his side, drove Yuuri to dig down deep into his memories and into the murkiest corners of his mind until he found that old knowledge. The knowledge that Yuuri had to learn as a child. The knowledge that he had wrapped himself in. The knowledge that protected him from physical violence, but not sexual violence.

Yuuri brought that knowledge back. How to paste on a facade and seduce someone, how submit to your molester’s fantasies, how to redirect their attention with your own seductive attitude and, how to subtly manipulate another person’s sexual desire. Throughout the night, Yuuri cracked open his sanity again and again until the reflection in the studio’s mirrors were a familiar sight.

The next day, Yuuri glided across the ice with a facade so strong no one would have seen the cracks unless he wanted them to. When the music ended and Yuuri turned to Viktor, the bright smile on Viktor’s face was worth the feeling of glass scraping against his lungs. That day, Yuuri won more time to stay by Viktor’s side. Even though Yuuri felt like a rubber band stretched too thin, when Viktor placed an arm around his waist as they waved at Yurio, the numbness dulled.

A smile tugged at his lips when Yurio turned around and glared at them.

“See you later, YURIO!~”

The young skater turned around and stomped off angrily as soon as he heard Viktor’s exaggerated shouts. When they lost sight of Yurio's blonde head in the crowded airport, Viktor turned to Yuuri with a gentle smile and said: “Let’s go back, Yuuri.”

Chapter Text

 December passed by so fast, Yuuri was barely able to process it. The months rolled by and Yuuri couldn’t even remember what it was like before Viktor invaded his life. Everyday during the last six months were filled with Viktor’s presence. There wasn’t a day that Viktor wasn’t filling up every nook and cranny of Yuuri’s life, and never had Yuuri felt this alive off the ice before.

Viktor breathed meaning and light into Yuuri’s mind. On bad days, he would feel so low that he didn’t have the energy to get out of bed, but Viktor never blamed him for it. Never made him feel ashamed of his weaknesses. His soulmate would just sit on the edge of his bed and run a soothing hand through Yuuri’s hair, without a sound, until Yuuri felt like the world had stopped shaking.

On days where Yuuri’s skin felt too tight on his body and his skeletons were too close to the surface, Viktor never touched him without his permission. At first, he never recognized this, but slowly as a few months passed, Yuuri started to realize that Viktor was more perceptive than most people gave him credit for, because Viktor never pried. Never questioned. Just accepted Yuuri’s debilitating demons like it was an everyday occurrence.

Slowly, Yuuri started to trust Viktor, allowing him to burrow his way under Yuuri’s skin until he didn’t even know where he started and Viktor ended. Now, he was defenseless against those sparkling blue eyes and large, calloused palms, and whatever Viktor asked him to do he knew he wouldn’t be able to deny it; Yuuri was too far gone.

He was an addict and Viktor was his drug. It didn’t even matter that Viktor was supposed to be his soulmate. None of that mattered anymore. Even if Viktor hadn’t been Yuuri’s, he would still have fallen for this beautiful, ridiculous man with a well of wit and humour that revealed itself to you if you dug deep enough.

That was why Yuuri was outside on a cool, summer night with Viktor’s palm burning an invisible brand on his wrist. His reluctance and shyness died in his chest, the instant his soulmate turned pleading eyes towards him and begged Yuuri to accompany him to Hasetsu’s annual summer festival. Yuuri could only nod before he was dragged out and into the night.

“What’s on your mind, Yuuri?”

Yuuri only realized that they had stopped when he felt a warm weight where Viktor’s forehead touched his. Yuuri peeked up at Viktor over the frames of his glasses.

The warm smile and fond twinkle in Viktor’s eyes made his chest seize up with an unnameable emotion. Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat. His mouth opened and closed a few times, like a goldfish, before Yuuri managed to squeeze his voice out.

“Not-Nothing- I’m just-”

The fond look in Viktor’s eyes morphed into something deeper. Something that made Yuuri want to do reckless things. Like kiss him.

“-I’m happy.”

The words tumbled out from the deepest corners of Yuuri’s heart and Yuuri’s mouth clicked shut. His voice was small, and those two words contained so much naked vulnerability that Yuuri’s own mind couldn’t even process them, but Viktor’s eyes lit up like the fireworks in the far distance and a wide smile blossomed on his soulmate’s cheeks.

It felt like the sun on Yuuri’s cold skin and he basked in it.

Viktor didn’t say a word, just cupped Yuuri’s cheek and tugged him into a tender embrace. Yuuri sunk into Viktor’s arms and clutched back just as tightly. Viktor’s scent enveloped him and he dug his nose into the hollow of Viktor’s neck, hoping to conceal the prickle of tears in his eyes and the jack-rabbit fast pulse of his heartbeat.

His heart nearly combusted when Viktor turned his head and pressed a kiss into the space behind his ears. The roiling mass of warmth in his chest stilled. In the silence of that moment, Yuuri could finally put a name to all the emotions he had for Viktor.

He loved Viktor.

No, Yuuri wasn’t in love with Viktor, because that type of love was for naive, innocent souls; not for a soul like his.

Yuuri loved Viktor.

Loved him in the slow, burning way that the sun loved the moon. Loved him in constants. Loved him in a way that made Yuuri’s toes curl and his vision lose focus. Loved him so much that, sometimes, he wondered how his body could even contain that much emotion, but it did. Yuuri couldn’t stop loving Viktor and he suspected that no matter what happened, his love for this beautiful man before him would always burn bright and steady.

Yuuri pressed his nose deeper into the crook of Viktor’s neck; he knew that Viktor could never love him back the way he wanted. Yuuri thought that he would have been fine with having just a small part of Viktor, but now, he wanted more, because this small part of Viktor seemed so infinitesimally small. It didn’t feel like it was enough.

It never felt enough.

However, Yuuri bit his lips and told his thoughts to shut up because this was enough. Yuuri didn’t deserve Viktor. Didn’t deserve to monopolize Viktor’s attention when his insecurities and scars were so deep.

Viktor didn’t deserve someone who was still afraid to be vulnerable and so terrified of commitment that he would always choose the easy way out. Viktor didn’t deserve someone who had paranoia running through his veins and who was deathly scared of being burned again .

No. His soulmate deserved someone who could offer him their full selves instead of left-over scraps.

An incessant ringing noise jolted Yuuri awake and he fumbled around his desk until the tips of his fingers grazed the cool metal of his phone.

Phichit’s picture blinked at him from the screen and Yuuri rubbed the sleep from his eyes, just as he answered with a soft: “Sawasdee Krab, Phichit.”

“Hi Yuu Yuu!~”

Yuuri smiled at his friend’s exuberant tone.

“I just saw your video today and you were awesome!”

Yuuri pinched the bridge of his nose when he realized the video that Loop, Lutz and Axel had posted, was still haunting him.

“Thanks Phichit…” A tired sigh escaped Yuuri’s lips.

“Yuuko’s girls recorded it and posted it without my knowledge. I was just as surprised when I found out how many views...it had.”

Phichit’s guffawing laughter made Yuuri chuckle too, but the next question made him blush and splutter.

“So, how has Viktor been? Has he been thorough ?-” Yuuri’s cheeks went red in alarm at the lewd implication.

“wha-No! Phichit!”

“-Ooh, he must have been very caring …I can hear the blush in your voice~”

His head thunked against the table and Yuuri mumbled under his breath.

“No- Nothing happened - He doesn’t. With me he doesn’t- Not in that way-”

Yuuri felt the tears sting the edges of his eyes and he pressed a thumb against them, trying so hard to press the tears back in.

“He’s- He’s my soulmate, Phichit.” His voice wobbled with misery.

Phichit’s soft “Oh…” was followed by heavy silence.

“Did you tell him yet? Does he know?” Phichit’s voice was soft and calming. There were no accusations in it, and it held nothing but gentleness and understanding.

“No.”

“-No he doesn’t- I’m not good for him. He’ll hate me-” Yuuri’s voice was a bare whisper at the end, and distantly, he heard Phichit sigh.

What that sigh meant, Yuuri had no idea but it echoed the aching sadness in Yuuri’s chest.

“Yuuri-”

Phichit’s voice was sad but firm. “Listen to me ok?-”         

“I know you don’t want to talk to him about it, but one day you have to. You owe him that.”

Yuuri’s reply was a weak whisper: “I know . I know, Phichit.”

“Then that’s good, because I know that he could never hate you. He’ll love you as much as you love him.”

Yuuri’s head snapped up and his eyes widened. Shock and surprise ran through him like a current.

“How-How did you know that…I didn’t even tell anyone-”

His best friend gave him a wry reply: “We’ve known each other way too long. You can’t expect me not to notice. You love him, don’t you?”

Yuuri tucked his chin against his chest before grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged.

“Yeah- I do, but I can’t...I can’t give him what he deserves. I just can’t… ” His voice was thick with throbbing agony and he let out a frustrated sigh.

“What happens if he wants more than- What happens if I can’t give him enough?-”

There was a beat of silence through the line before Phichit replied in the softest voice Yuuri had ever heard his friend use.

“If he loves you. He’ll love every part of you. He won’t ask you to give more than you can, Yuuri.”

Yuuri didn’t reply because his throat was clogged with disbelief and yearning. If only that were true…

“-But I know you won’t believe me now. Just-”

Through the phone Yuuri could hear the kind smile in his best friend’s voice.

“Just don’t let it consume you too much, Yuuri. Let him in. Test him if you need to, but don’t shut down the possibility because you will regret it.”

His best friend’s words rang in his heart like a bell. They were so similar to the thoughts in his head that Yuuri couldn’t help but agree with Phichit’s words, because they were the truth.

Yuuri sent his friend a warm goodbye before he hung up and, that night, Phichit’s words followed him deep into his dreams.

Everything came to a halt, on the ice, when Viktor casually and nonchalantly asked Yuuri if he had a girlfriend before, and he didn’t know what triggered the panic attack, but Yuuri ran out of the Ice Castle like hellhounds were chasing him down.

The next thing Yuuri was aware of was the prickly feeling of grass underneath his hands, and a warm summer breeze ruffling through his hair. Yuuri blinked up at the blue sky and screwed his eyes shut until his breathing stopped hitching, and the sky stopped looking like Viktor’s eyes.

Yuuri didn’t know how long he sat there, but the sun had started to set and it painted the sky in a myriad of purple and fiery orange, when he heard familiar footsteps. From Yuuri’s peripheral, he saw Viktor hunch his shoulders and cautiousness to bleed into his sky-blue eyes.

Yuuri ignored Viktor when he stopped a half a metre away and gingerly lowered himself down. Viktor’s body heat was nectar to his bee-like senses, and Yuuri had the immediate urge to lean against his companion, but, Yuuri bit his lips, cradled his knees to his chest and tucked his face into his overlapping arms to stifle that urge.

The silence was a morose, wriggling thing between them and Yuuri didn’t know what to say to break the tension. Luckily he didn’t have to, Viktor spoke up before the silence threatened to swallow them whole.

“In Russia I could never hear the birds. It was always cold there and I was alone for so long that..I forgot what it can be like to have someone near me.”

“-So sometimes I say things that I haven’t thought through. I’m sorry, Moy snezhok-”

The misery in Viktor’s voice dragged Yuuri’s words out so fast, it made him dizzy.

“No! No. It’s not your fault. It’s mine .”

Yuuri stared at the tree tops because he was afraid to see the expression on Viktor’s face. Afraid that he would finally see the disgust painted across his soulmate’s face like graffiti, but Yuuri gritted his teeth and forced the words out.

“There was never anyone who...who I felt comfortable with. I was too scared to let anyone in. Too much of a cow- coward . When anything turns painful...I’ll run away from it. That’s-”

His throat dried up and he choked out the last pieces of his thoughts.

“-I ran away because I was ashamed. I’m always so-”

Self-loathing flavoured the next words Yuuri spat out: “So weak-”

There was a beat of silence before a heady weight wormed around Yuuri’s shoulders, and he was tugged into Viktor’s arms. Viktor’s hands cradled the back of his skull whilst a hot palm was pressed into the curve of his spine. The heat of Viktor’s touch seeped through his shirt and Yuuri shivered when that warmth sunk into his bones.

“You’re not weak. ” Viktor’s voice was so sharp, it sliced through the air like a bullet. The vehemence and anger in his soulmate’s voice startled him so much that Yuuri pushed himself back in shock.

Viktor’s eyes were dark, gleaming pools of violent azure as tumultuous as the raging seas of Hasetsu and as cold as the ice that they skated on. Viktor’s eyes practically dared Yuuri to repeat his words again and Yuuri’s jaw snapped shut.

Viktor reached out a hand and Yuuri’s body gave an instinctive minute flinch, but his soulmate ignored the knee-jerk reaction and with an unparalleled level of intensity, Viktor firmly gripped Yuuri’s chin.

“Don’t you dare say that you’re weak! You’re beautiful and strong. You just can’t see how much you amaze me.”

Viktor’s fingers slowly loosened its grip on Yuuri’s chin and the glaciers in his soulmate’s eyes sharpened.

“What do you want me to be to you, Yuuri? A father? Brother? No… A lover?-”

Yuuri’s eyes widened and he shook his head. The thoughts in his head were a jumbled mess of shame, self-loathing and yearning love, but every time Yuuri thought about being in a relationship or having sex, he felt like he wanted to scrape his skin off.

Yuuri’s face contorted and tears brimmed in his eyes, and his soulmate must have seen a fraction of his inner agony, because Viktor gave a tired, aching sigh and coaxed Yuuri towards him.

“Shh...It’s ok ...you don’t need to answer that, moy snezhok-”

Viktor’s lips moved against the crown of his head, and the feeling of whispers running through his hair distracted him and slowly Yuuri’s gasps tapered off.

“From now on, you’re not fighting alone anymore. I’m here and I'm not going anywhere, I promise- ”

Yuuri shuffled forward even more, wishing that he could borrow into Viktor’s skin and stay there forever, but the last words from Viktor’s lips were the ones that broke him. The ones that completely destroyed his walls and, it was the first time, in a long time, that Yuuri had felt this naked.

“You’re not alone, Laska. You’re not alone .”

 That day lingered in Yuuri’s memories like a fingerprint, and on the ice when his doubts crept up on him, Yuuri would use Viktor’s words to keep them at bay. When he won the Japanese Nationals with his personal best, Yuuri was elated and his defenses crumbled even further.

As he stood in front of the flashing cameras with Viktor at his side, Yuuri steeled his nerves so when the commentator asked: “Katsuki-san, please present your theme for this year’s Grand Prix series.”

Yuuri closed his eyes and dug deep into his reservoir of strength and fortitude, before he faced the crowd and declared that his theme was love . Yuuri talked about the abstract feeling of love and how the Greeks had eight forms of love. He talked about how he wanted to convey all those types of love through his routines. The words Yuuri spoke about on the stage, felt dry and rehearsed on his tongue.

However, he protected and held back the most intimate words, so that in those rare moments of privacy where Yuuri could freely express his love to people he trusted with his heart, he could give his words to those precious few.

So when Viktor stopped him on the way back to the Inn with a warm hand on his arm, Yuuri turned around, tucked himself into Viktor’s arms, and whispered into his soulmate’s chest.

Yuuri told Viktor that his love wasn’t as clear-cut because it wasn’t fully romantic, with flaming cheeks Yuuri told Viktor that he was the first one that Yuuri had wanted to hold on to, and that he didn’t know what these emotions are. He wasn’t 100% clear about what he wanted...so Yuuri decided to call it “love”, and when Yuuri looked up at the end of his ramblings, Viktor’s eyes were coated with a film of tears.

“Yuuri ...I can’t let you go either. Laska...I can’t imagine a day without you anymore .”

Chapter Text

The booming cheers from the crowd reverberated on the walls of the stadium like thunder. Hundreds of people were on their feet with applause that fell out of their hands and skittered along the ice underneath Yuuri’s feet.

Yuuri’s breath fanned out in front of him in mists of elated surprise, and he had to blink his eyes because the edges of his vision were fuzzy with adrenaline. His chest stuttered unsteadily like a sputtering engine and his hands were clammy and shaking so much, Yuuri had to clutch them together to stop the tremors.

Yuuri’s head felt like it was stuffed with thick cotton and the only thing he could hear was white noise until Viktor’s exuberant voice cut through the throng. He turned his head and, there, at the centre of his vision, Viktor’s gleaming platinum-blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes were waiting for him. Yuuri didn’t even know that he had skated like a madman towards Viktor until something touched both of his hands and pulled him forward.

In the blink of an eye, something warm and soft touched Yuuri’s lips before a warm weight cradled his nape and pushed him forward. The only thing that kept him from falling was the sturdy arm around his waist, and Yuuri instantly melted into Viktor’s chest.

All he was aware of was Viktor’s soft lips, slightly chapped from the cold of the rink...Viktor’s hands and the warm line of fire his chest was plastered against. Yuuri squeaked in shock when Viktor’s lips opened and an exploring tongue swept inside his mouth. The sensations were overwhelming and Yuuri was about to lose his mind completely, when Viktor’s palm pushed his head forward, deepening the kiss.

Yuuri couldn’t help the small moan that escaped, when Viktor’s tongue swept over his bottom lip in a heated caress; and when Viktor drew back and gently nipped Yuuri’s bottom lip Yuuri’s mind went blank and his heartbeat skyrocketed.

Viktor’s breath fanned across Yuuri’s swollen lips and dark molten eyes held his in a predatory gave that left shivers under Yuuri’s skin. The look on his soulmate’s face was smokey, and the smirk, with a healthy hint of teeth, made Yuuri blush even harder.

“The only thing I can think of to surprise you was this, Yuuri.”

Yuuri watched in a daze as Viktor’s hand palmed his cheek before he whispered: “Laska... Lasoch'ka… You were dazzling. I’m so proud of you-”

What breath Yuuri had left in his lungs left him in a whoosh and all the words rumbling around in his mind froze. In that very moment, time seemed to have slowed to a snail’s pace. All Yuuri could do was stare at Viktor and love him all over again.

Yuuri opened his mouth, but the ball of wonder-amazement howdidIdeservethis  lodged in his windpipe rendered him mute. Viktor’s arm squeezed his waist before Yuuri even thought about trying again, so Yuuri let go and surrendered himself to the exhilarating chaos in his head as he was led towards the Kiss & Cry corner.

In Yuuri’s periphery he caught Phichit’s grinning face and his friend flashed him a thumbs-up and a smile filled with so much pride that Yuuri wanted to bury his face.

However, everything after that passed by so fast, Yuuri’s mind couldn’t process it. The only thing that Yuuri could focus on was the phantom touch of Viktor’s lips and how it lingered on his skin like a tattoo. Everything was so warm, clear and bright that Yuuri felt like he had just discovered his senses. There was nothing: No black whispers of nervousness or anxiety, just an all-consuming feeling of rightness. Yuuri had finally come home.

The bustle of the crowd was a low, pleasant hum as Viktor leaned against the wall and nursed his champagne. In the far corner of the banquet hall, Viktor saw Yuuri next to Phichit Chulanont, a Thai skater and Yuuri’s best friend. Viktor took another sip of his champagne and felt the buzz of it as the champagne settled in his stomach. He gave his bottom lip a slow lick and the dry wine tingled. The feeling reminded him of Yuuri’s beautiful lips and Viktor couldn’t help the drunken, fond grin that stretched his lips.

“Whoever put that look on your face must be a miracle.” Chris said with a teasing leer as the swiss skater approached him.

“Chris.” Viktor raised his glass up in greeting.

“Viktor-” Chris draped an arm around his shoulder and leaned his hip against Viktor’s.

“That kiss was sweltering. Have you been practicing recently?”

Viktor took another sip of his champagne before he allowed himself to give his friend a warm smile.

 “You know what I’ve been up to recently, so why are you here prying?”

 His friend gave a boisterous laugh and tugged Viktor even closer.

 “You looked like you needed company so here I am-” Chris’ lips cocked up in a smirk before his friend tapped a finger against Viktor’s forehead.

 “-And...well, your stalker side was surfacing so I joined you to keep the masses from thinking that you’re a closet murderer.”

 “You were staring very intently.”

 Viktor sighed at his friend’s perceptiveness and ran his fingers through his bangs.

 “Are you here to ask me about Yuuri?”

 Chris shot him a triumphant smirk and drawled out: “No, not at all. Just wanted to talk about the weather.”

 “We’re good. Fine . Are you satisfied now, Chris?”

 “Wow, that was such a bad lie, Vik. Just admit that you love him, I can see it so clearly on your face, so why try and hide it?”

 An exasperated snort escaped Viktor’s mouth but then, after that, Viktor chuckled at his friend’s cheekiness.

 “-You’re being more insistent today...but, yes, I do love him. Satisfied now, Khristanya?”

 Chris chuckled in reply and raised his glass in salute.

 “That’s cruel. You know I always get so hot and bothered when you call me that, Viktor-”

 “-but coming back to my point. You know that you’re gonna have to talk to your cute boyfriend about your soulmark some time in the future.”

 Viktor shot his friend a sharp look.

 “You don’t have to tell me that. I know.”

 “Hey, I was just checking. Nothing to get so prickly about, Vikky.”

 From the corner of his eye, Chris’ face was gentle and full of understanding but it still had a hint of mischievousness.

 The next words from Chris’ lips were soft, and it wrapped around Viktor like a scarf.

 “It’s my duty as your friend-”

 Viktor turned and met his friend’s eyes with a flame of steel in his own blue orbs.

 “I don’t care if Yuuri isn’t my soulmate. I won’t let him go so easily .”

 Surprise coated every surface of Chris’ face and every line of his body. A beat of silence passed and another beat of silence ticked by, before Viktor lost track of how long the silence between them stretched on for.

 Chris’ whisper cut through the air with a crackle and Viktor was surprised to see genuine happiness on his friend’s face.

 “I’ve never seen you like this before-”

 “Even when you had previously dated countless people...I’ve never seen you display this much emotion.”

 Viktor’s tucked his chin down and stared at his glass for one heartbeat before he took another sip. The champagne occupied Viktor’s mouth so the words wouldn’t spill out of him like an avalanche.

 Chris gave him a knowing glance and continued on, giving Viktor his space and silence.

 “You were like an emotionless superhuman. I had such a hard time getting you to talk about anything...It was ridiculous ! I don’t even know how our friendship even survived.”

 The words fell out of Viktor’s lips before he could stop them: “-Because you were a leech and wouldn’t leave me alone?”

 “My efforts paid off, didn’t it?”

 Viktor’s lips quirked up in a wider and more genuine smile at his friend’s antics.

 “Yes it did. Anything else you would like to say, Khristanya?”

 Chris tapped a finger against his lips for a moment before he turned to Viktor and said: “Talk to him about that kiss. You sprung it on poor Yuuri without a warning and- well- take care of each other-”

 Chris wound an arm around Viktor’s waist, ran a hand through Viktor’s hair and gave his bang a seductive flick.

 “If you need me you know how and where to find me, Vikky, and remember no one likes a quiet, sulking Russian. It’s depressing.”

 With those last teasing words Chris replaced Viktor’s empty glass with his own, then, his friend sauntered away with Viktor’s empty champagne glass delicately held between two fingers.

Viktor allowed his chin to thump against his chest as soon as Chris’ blonde hair disappeared into the crowd and he snickered under his breath. Chris was sometimes way too perceptive for his own good. No matter how much Viktor’s chameleon-esque facade fooled the masses, it never managed to fool Chris…

It never fooled Yuuri either.

The number of people Viktor allowed inside was small, but at Yuuri’s side, it was starting to grow and Viktor was scared, because for so long, Viktor had used this method to cope with fame. This was how he kept himself sane in a world where he was at the top.

Some days it was so lonely, all Viktor wanted to do was to escape this life. To a place without paparazzis, public scrutiny and raving fans. To a place where people could see him and want him for him, not this fantasy or ideal they had in their head.

When Viktor saw Yuuri’s video, it was the first breath of fresh air he had inhaled in a long time. The video was silent, but every movement of Yuuri’s body was ephemeral and it somehow managed to make Viktor’s dormant feelings stir.

Viktor flew to Japan on impulse, and for some reason, he ended up staying there for half a year. Every time Yuuri looked at Viktor, his brown eyes would sparkle and the feeling was novel, because Yuuri looked at him and truly saw him. He wanted Viktor to be himself.

Every day Viktor gravitated even closer to Yuuri, and now Viktor can’t get out of that mesmerizing grasp. He didn’t even know if he wanted to anymore, and some days, Viktor didn’t even know if he had saved Yuuri or Yuuri had saved him .

Their hotel room was lit with a warm, low yellow glow and Yuuri settled against the headboard of his bed. The toilet flushed and Viktor emerged from the bathroom in a fluffy, white bathrobe that made Yuuri’s cheeks turn a hot rose-pink.

Viktor gave Yuuri a wide, blinding smile before he headed towards him and plastered himself against Yuuri’s side. Yuuri peeked up at Viktor from beneath his bangs before he lowered his head down and rested it on Viktor’s shoulder.

Yuuri felt Viktor press his nose against the crown of his head before his soulmate left a kiss there, and it created a wave of warmth and love that surged against the shores of his heart.

“Viktor...today the kiss- I-”

His voice was cut off when Viktor enveloped his hand in a tender grasp, and Yuuri had to swallow again before his voice was strong enough to continue.

“I really liked it- but I don’t- I can’t -”

Yuuri’s voice was a quiet confession filled with a tint of anxiety and fear.

Viktor didn’t say anything, just brought Yuuri’s hand towards his chest and left a tender kiss on his knuckles. Every nervous, vibrating molecule in Yuuri’s frame stopped and all the tension in his body bled away; Yuuri could not tear his eyes away from Viktor’s bowed head.

One, two, three pulses of silence burned away slowly like the wick of a candle. All the atoms in the room waited in reverent hush and it was like they were waiting for the light of a new dawn.

“You don’t need to give me anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Viktor’s blue eyes held a rolling storm inside it, and the gravity of Viktor’s gaze as it peeked from Yuuri’s knuckles, was earth-shattering. He couldn’t escape the next words even if he wanted to, and it wrapped around him unforgivingly but tenderly.

“Trust me to never hurt you. Trust me to love you, my Yuuri.”

Chapter Text

 The gentle heat of the sun streaming through windows of the hotel room woke Yuuri up. He pried open his eyes and the sight of pale skin, flushed cheeks and platinum-blonde hair greeted him. The sunlight danced across Viktor’s face and Yuuri was utterly mesmerized by the sight before him.

The sunlight lit his soulmate’s hair until the strands were a stunning, awe-striking metal: gleaming like spun gold intertwined with the cold, ethereal colour of silver. Yuuri’s eyes traveled across Viktor’s hair and down the strong bridge of his nose before it stopped at Viktor’s eyes. Tranquility washed through him and it churned and morphed into a blanket of content that settled on Yuuri’s shoulders like an old, favourite sweater.

This was the first time Yuuri fell asleep next to someone. The first time that he trusted the other person enough to fall asleep next to them. On the heels of that content, affectionate feeling, small tendrils of fear still clung to the back of his mind with the tenacity of a shadow, but Yuuri fought them off and refused to let them stain the peace of the moment.

The only person that Yuuri had allowed inside was Phichit...but never in this capacity because Viktor was different. Yuuri didn’t have the capability to define their relationship but it wasn’t platonic....Could never be platonic.

There was always something writing underneath; something that consumed Yuuri with fire and overwhelming fondness. That intimacy slowly wormed its way into Yuuri’s defenses and he succumbed to Viktor in a way that he had never experienced before. In a way that scared him and excited him.

“If you stare any harder, Laska. You’re going to burn a hole through my face.” Viktor’s voice was husky and filled with the lingering vestiges of sleep, however, the tinge of fond laughter in his voice was unmistakable. Yuuri couldn’t stop the blush that surged through his chest and into his cheeks.

Viktor’s voice softened and the whisper swirled in the space between them like a caress.

“Good Morning, moyo Zolotse.”

Yuuri’s mind snapped back into reality, when Viktor reached forward and ran his knuckles across Yuuri’s cheek.

“I would love to stay here and cuddle with you all day, Lyubimiy, but we can’t be late to the lunch organized downtown.”

Viktor shot him a warm grin that made Yuuri’s heart pitter patter before his soulmate sat up and leaned over Yuuri’s face. Vitkor’s hair fanned across his cheeks and slightly chapped lips touched his forehead before Vitkor left a tender peck. Then, in the blink of an eye, Viktor leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to Yuuri’s lips.

As soon as Viktor left the bed, Yuuri rolled over and smashed his face into Viktor’s pillow. Viktor’s essence enveloped all his senses and Yuuri tugged the sleeves of his hoodie down before he snuggled back into the comforter like a burrito. The moment Yuuri was cocooned inside his self-made nest, Yuuri pressed an arm against his eyes. The corner of his eyes stung with tears, but this time, it wasn’t tears of pain. This was the first time Yuuri had ever experienced tears caused by joy.

The gust of cool air that hit them as they entered the Chinese restaurant was welcome, and Viktor sighed. Tucked under his arm, Yuuri rolled the sleeves of his hoodie up and huffed in amusement. Viktor ran a cool fingers across Yuuri’s sweaty brow and chuckled when Yuuri batted his hand away. Viktor was about to do something reckless when another hand grabbed his arm from behind and tsked.

“Vik, don’t tire poor Yuuri out so soon. You have to wait until dessert like everybody else~”

Viktor shot his friend a disgruntled pout as Chris laid a palm on both of their shoulders and steered them towards a large table at the back of the restaurant.

Viktor smiled when Yuuri launched himself at Phichit. The Thai skater didn’t even hesitate, Phichit drew Yuuri into a big warm hug that drew a surprised laugh from his boyfriend. Viktor didn’t realize that his gaze was stuck on Yuuri until Chris laid a palm between his shoulder blades and nudged him forward.

“You’re staring too intensely-”

Chris’ smirk was at odds with the seriousness in his eyes.

“It’s kinda creepy seeing you this whipped, Viktor. Sure you’re still the same person?”

Viktor’s answering grin stretched his lips. Slowly, Viktor’s smiles felt less foreign on his face and every grin Viktor gave Yuuri felt more personal and more intimate everyday. As Yuuri’s walls crumbled, Viktor’s own walls cracked too.

“No, I’ve changed, Kristanya.”

Chris’ eyes were soul-piercing but Viktor held his friend’s gaze for a beat of silence, before Chris broke it and reached for Viktor’s glass.

“A glass of Bordeaux wine for my friend, please. Thank you, darling.” Chris flagged a sweet, petite waitress and passed the girl Viktor’s glass.

There was no need for acknowledgement between them. All the unsaid things that swirled around them cleared and the only thing that was left, was a clean breath of air.

Viktor glanced up when he heard a commotion near the entrance. The sight of Yuratchka being dragged into the restaurant by Otabek, the stern Kazakhstan skater, was too hilarious, and Viktor shot up and gave the group an enthusiastic wave.

“Yurio! Guys! We’re here~”

Viktor nearly burst out into giggles when Yuratchka gave him a withering glare.

Next to him, Yuuri snickered at his antics.

Yuratchka grumpily approached the table but didn’t take a seat until Yuuri waved at the young skater and tugged him into an empty seat.

“Yurio, you can sit here with Otabek.”

“Don’t baby me, Katsudon. Go and be disgusting with the geezer over there.”

Yuratchka’s voice was disgruntled and acidic, but the blonde didn’t shove Yuuri away when he drew Yuratchka into a gentle hug.

“I’m happy to see that you’ve been doing so well, Yurio. Oh-! Yuuko said that she sent you some manju so you should receive them in the next two weeks.”

Yuratchka grumbled under his own breath, gave Yuuri a sulky nod, and then he took a seat next to Otabek.

“Fine, I’ll thank her later. Go back to your damn seat, Katsudon. Nobody wants to see a starving piglet.”

The moment Yuuri sat down next to Viktor, he reached down and fumbled until his fingers grazed Yuuri’s familiar hands. Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s palm under the table before he bent down and placed a soft kiss on those knuckles.

Throughout the whole meal, Viktor’s grasp didn’t even falter for a second. He just sat there and nursed his drink, long after the food had been cleared and the alcohol had started to flow. Viktor just sat there and downed the beer like it was water until a tiny, pleasant buzz vibrated through his head.

Viktor gave an exasperated sigh when Georgi giggled and collapsed against the table’s surface.

“Seems like we’re the last ones standing.”  Chris’ voice was slightly slurred but the sharp, triumphant grin on his face was downright evil and Viktor shook his head.

“This was your fault, Kristanya. Only you could think up something as ridiculous as an alcohol challenge…”

“Don’t worry, Chris. I thought it was a genius idea. Today was such a fruitful day for pictures. Thanks!”

Phichit, Yuuri’s best friend, had one hand propped under his chin and the other one wrapped around a can of soda. Viktor turned his attention back to Phichit when he felt Phichit's curious eyes on him. Viktor sent the Thai skater a amicable, suave smile: “I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Yuuri. It’s nice to finally meet you, Phichit.”

“Yeah. Nearly every conversation I have with Yuu Yuu is about you, so I'm glad to be able to finally see that he's not exaggerating too much.”

Viktor met Phichit's amused eyes with a sardonic nod.

“Thank you, I'll take that as a compliment.”

Phichit opened his mouth to quip back but the Thai skater stopped when Yuuri scrunched his face up and mumbled; Viktor immediately ran a hand through Yuuri’s locks and steadied his boyfriend’s head when it shifted against Viktor’s shoulder.

“You're gentler with him than I imagined you could be...that's kind of surprising. It's a great thing to see. It’s just really unexpected.”

Viktor stared into the cup in his hands before he rested his chin on an open palm and gave Phichit a curious look.

“Why not? I've never treated people unkindly before.”

From the corner of his eyes, Chris chuckled.

“That's true, honey pie. Vikky’s always so charming. Sometimes he makes me so conflicted that I just want to jump him.”

Phichit's unrestrained laughter traveled through the air before it was consumed by the restaurant’s noisy background.

“How long have you been friends with Yuuri?”

Phichit ran a finger along the rim of his can and then tapped a finger against his own lips.

“Well...since Yuuri was 17 so- yeah...around 5 years?” Viktor was surprised at the length of time they've known each other for, and a small niggle of jealousy flickered in his chest.

“Yuuri always talks about you. You must be really close to him.”

Phichit shook his head and shot a warm, fond look towards Yuuri’s slumbering form.

“For Yuuri, I think I was the first one he allowed himself to be vulnerable with, but now-”

The Thai skater’s eyes hardened when it landed on him and Viktor met those eyes with the same amount of gravity and respect.

“-now, he has you. Someone who has the power to hurt him. To break his heart.”

Viktor’s eyes never wavered and the grave light in his eyes reflected the solid conviction in his heart.

“Don’t worry, I would never hurt Yuuri like that. Whoever it was that hurt him before-”

Viktor’s voice was as ruthless as the cold, winter desert.

“I will never be like that. Never. ” His voice was a harsh whisper, full of sharp edges and bitter anger. The Thai skater’s eyes were wide with astonishment and a small, breathless: “oh…” escaped Phichit’s lips.

The heavy tension in the atmosphere slowly ebbed away when Phichit closed his eyes and ran a hand across his lips. Phichit’s voice was a barely audible murmur when it was directed at Viktor.

“How did you know?”

Viktor’s eyes were pulled back to Yuuri’s peaceful face, slack with innocence and vulnerability that came on the heels of a deep, undisturbed sleep.

“I’m not blind. I’ve always suspected that something had happened. Something big that left deep scars in Yuuri’s heart.”

Viktor’s tender and aching mumbles were pressed against the skin of Yuuri’s forehead. When Viktor turned around, Phichit’s eyes were softer and more open than it had been the whole time.

“You’re not wrong. But-” Phichit sighed and shot Chris and Viktor a resigned, wry huff.

“It’s not my right to tell. Not my story to give away.”

Chris gave the Thai skater a salute with his tumbler. “Bravo to loyalty.”

Viktor smiled at his friend’s attempt to lighten the atmosphere. “No, I don’t expect you to tell me.”

Viktor instilled as much gravity and sincerity into his voice as possible, because he wanted to make his next point crystal clear.

“Yuuri will tell me if he wants to, but if he doesn’t, it doesn’t matter. I won’t abandon him. ”

A few seconds ticked by before a cheerful, genuine smile stretched across Phichit’s lips and Viktor could finally see that Yuuri’s best friend saw the truth in his words.

The ice between them thawed. Phichit trusted him to take care of Yuuri. Phichit trusted Viktor with his best friend’s heart and Viktor was elated.

“Well, I hope you succeed, Viktor. From now on, you have my support.”

Chapter Text

The deafening roar of the crowd was starting to become a familiar feeling against Yuuri’s skin. That was never a thought he ever imagined he would have, but now Yuuri did, because Viktor came into his life and turned everything upside down.

Yuuri stepped off the ice and the grin that stretched across his lips made his heart sing in joy. This was the first time- in a long time- the ice had brought him this much comfort, so Yuuri basked in it and sank into Viktor’s hug at the Kiss & Cry.

Viktor’s hands were soft and his eyes were bright with pride. The cameras flashed and Yuuri was sure that his love for Viktor was starkly visible for the world to see.

After their moment was over, Viktor pulled Yuuri up and slung a warm arm around his shoulders. They settled near the entrance to the ice rink and watched as Yurio skated elegantly and beautifully. As soon as Yurio stepped off the ice, Yuuri stepped forward and drew the panting boy into an exuberant hug.

“Yurio! That was amazing!”

The boy stiffened in Yuuri’s arms but he didn’t pull away, instead Yurio just grumbled out: “What-Whatever! Like I care what you think, Katsudon.”

Yuuri wanted to chuckle at the boy’s reply but before Yuuri could tease Yurio, his pocket vibrated so suddenly Yuuri nearly jumped. Yuuri drew back with a confused frown, dug into his jacket and drew out his phone. The sight of his sister’s caller ID confused Yuuri. Mari would never call, especially when he was competing, unless something dire came up.

“Hello? Mari?”

The lights that flashed in the background was as fleeting as a butterfly’s wings, but the only thing that Yuuri could see was the pain running through Viktor’s shoulders, the creases on Viktor’s forehead and the numb, fearful look in those blue eyes.

Yuuri reached out and gently clasped the palm that was fisted against the wall. With silence and a tenderness Yuuri didn’t even know he possessed, Yuuri drew Viktor's hands towards him until those hands were cradled in the space between Yuuri’s knees.

The tension sat like an elephant between them but Yuuri ran his thumbs across Viktor’s knuckles until he felt the agitation bleed out of Viktor's frame.

“You should go. I’ll be fine, Viktor.”

Yuuri held Viktor’s eyes and tried to convey the truthfulness of his words. Viktor’s eyes crinkled with pain before his boyfriend gave an aching sigh.

“I promised I would stay with you. I promised -”

Yuuri cut Viktor’s whisper off with a squeeze that stilled Viktor’s hands.

“You need to do this, Viktor. You’re not abandoning me or leaving me alone, but you will be doing that to Makkachin if you don’t go.”

Yuuri didn’t let the blank, numb look in Viktor’s eyes topple his determination and Yuuri met those blue orbs with as much seriousness and fortitude he could muster up. The desire to be Viktor’s strength and support ran through Yuuri like a hurricane, and that bone-deep desire must have been blatantly displayed on Yuuri’s face because Viktor gave him a long, assessing look before he nodded.

“Ok... Ok, I’ll go but someone else will be here for you. I won’t break my promise.”

Yuuri gave Viktor a reassuring nod. “No, of course I’m not asking you to, Viktor- but who will even?-”

Before Yuuri could finish off his sentence, a shadow fell over the bench they were on and Yuuri blinked up at Yakov’s severe face.

“Yakov will be with you until I get back, ok?”

Yuuri gave Viktor a confused blink just before Yakov blurted out a loud: “What?! Vitya, what the hell are you talking about!”

Yuuri wanted to give a weary sigh, because instead of explaining like a normal person, Viktor turned to Yakov and said: “I need to go to see Makkachin, so could you please take care of Yuuri for me?”

There was a long beat of silence before Yakov gave a heavy sigh, turned his eyes heavenwards and shot Viktor a reluctant, befuddled nod.

“Ok. Fine! When will you be back?”

Viktor shot up and tugged his mentor into a relieved hug, before he straightened and gave Yakov a blinding grin.

“I don’t know, but I won’t be gone long.”

A loud, blaring alarm brutally cut through Yuuri’s dream like a saw and Yuuri flailed out an unsteady arm. The moment his fingers came in contact with his phone, Yuuri automatically flicked his alarm off, rolled over and pushed himself up.

The room was eerily silent and something unpleasant niggled at Yuuri’s senses. That moment the hazy cobwebs of sleepiness dissipated and Yuuri’s hands met the cold sheets beside him, memories of Viktor slammed into him like a 10 tonne truck.

The lack of Viktor’s presence was like a huge, gaping hole in Yuuri’s mind and everyday that awareness and emptiness sunk into him until the chill of depression blanketed every inch of his skin. Yuuri jolted when a piece of thread on his sweater snagged against the healing scabs on his wrist, and the flood of shame, disgust and admiration that swept down his spine was like a splash of cold water. Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut at the visceral whispers that flickered at the edges of his consciousness. He took a deep breath and held it until the whispers passed and the flush that ran through him left.

A few days after Viktor left, Yuuri’s anxiety reared its head again and the crowd reverted back to a hostile force that battered against his walls. The stage and the music turned stale, and all the wonderful colours of the ice were slowly stained with the same blackness that occupied his thoughts. A few days after Yuuri saw Viktor off at the airport, he succumbed to the temptations of the blade, and the haunting siren songs that the razors produced.

Numbness spread like a virus and Yuuri lost time to the black, hulking wraith in his mind. When the desperation trickled away and the haze of panic faded, there was a razor in his hands and blood running down his wrists. At the sight of his own blood, a jumbled mixture of relief, happiness and disappointment surged up until all Yuuri could taste was the tang of iron on his tongue.

Yuuri looked down at the fresh scabs on his wrist and the dull, aching wave of disappointment that assaulted his senses made tears prickle in the corners of his eyes. After nearly a year of proudly going cold turkey, Yuuri’s mind succumbed to the voices again. All the silent fights he had with himself were a waste, and when Yuuri’s mind conjured up the possible disappointment on Viktor's face, the razor that sat on the sink counter mocked him.

With a herculean amount of effort, Yuuri ripped his eyes away from the glistening surface of the blade. Yuuri hastily splashed some cold water on his face, flattened his hair and pulled on a long sleeve zip shirt, before he tugged the sleeves securely over the cuts and locked his hotel door.

When Yuuri arrived at the hotel’s dance studio, his young friend, Yurio, was leaning against the wall and blowing a big, pink bubblegum ball.

At the sight of his blonde friend, the depression that clawed relentlessly behind his ribs quelled and Yuuri felt an uncontrollable grin tug at the corners of his lips with alien emotion.

“What took you so long, Katsudon?”

Over the last few days, their relationship and friendship had grown exponentially, and now, Yuuri was able to understand Yurio with a depth that he could not before.

Yuuri gave Yurio a fond, shy smile. He placed his shoulder near Yurio’s and gave his friend a nudge. From the corner of his eyes, Yuuri saw the fleeting laughter in Yurio’s green eyes before young skater shot him a disgusted, half-hearted glare.

“Che, why are you so fucking happy this early in the morning, dumbass?”

Yuuri reached up and ran a palm across the happy blush that lingered on his cheeks. Beside him, Yurio tipped his head sideways and snorted.

“Ugh, you’re disgusting. I’m gonna go inside before the crazy woman comes and murders us for not warming up.”

Yuuri expected Yurio to saunter inside first, but his friend suddenly stopped in front of him. Yurio reached down and Yuuri flinched back at the sudden move, but Yurio didn’t do anything . Just ignored Yuuri’s flinch, gently encircled his wrist and tugged Yuuri inside the studio.

The happy feeling that blossomed in Yuuri’s chest at the sight of the faint pink flush on Yurio’s cheeks, stayed with Yuuri throughout the whole lesson. It relentlessly chased away the black questing fingers of depression, and Yuuri came out of the lesson feeling like his chest wasn’t going to suddenly cave in.

Yuuri thought that the only happy feeling that he was going to encounter today, was the one Yurio evoked. That was why, Yuuri was so surprised when Yurio stopped him in the hallway in front of his room with a nervous, embarrassed stutter and flitting eyes.

“I-I have something for you, Katsudon. Not-Not that I thought about your skinny ass all the time- Just!- I didn’t want your dumb ass going anorexic!”

Yurio grappled with his duffel bag for a few seconds before the young skater pulled out a small, petite gift bag, and thrust it into Yuuri’s floundering hands.

“My grandpa made katsudon pirozhki and today’s your birthday, so eat the whole thing! Don’t you dare leave anything behind, piglet-”

The smell of Yuuri’s favourite dish wafted towards his nose. Yuuri wasn’t aware of the wide smile that pulled at the tips of his lips until Yurio started to turn away.

“Yurio! Thank you so much. I love it!”

Yuuri enthusiastically reached forward and pulled his friend into a tight hug. Nostalgia mingled with fondness and gratitude threatened to make the tears fall, but Yuuri muffled a wet, hysterical sniffle against Yurio’s shoulder before he pulled back and tugged his friend inside his room.

“Let’s watch some TV and eat the pirozhki together, Yurio.”

“WHA! No- What the hell!- Oi! Katsudon! Sto-”

Despite his friend’s flailing arms and half-hearted protests, Yuuri tugged Yurio down onto a sofa chair and switched on the TV. The next few hours of binge-eating and laughing at the comedy shows on TV, the soul-searing emptiness inside him disappeared. Yurio’s prickly, but soft, presence chased away the loneliness that Viktor’s lack of presence brought.

The numbness that had spread towards Yuuri’s fingertips slowly turned back into warmth.

This year...well, his birthday wasn’t that bad, because the haunting memories of Yuuri’s 12th birthday did not threaten to suffocate him.

This year, Yuuri didn’t have to spend his birthday shivering under a blanket or huddled inside the bathroom, hoping and praying for pain, because anything was better than the litany of memories that was pressed like a grotesque reel against the back of Yuuri’s eyelids. Yurio’s presence was a balm against those raging demons and Yuuri felt the crawling sensation underneath his skin abate.

All the new people that had barged into Yuuri’s life -brought in by Viktor’s gravity- were slowly but surely eating away the darkness that permeated the background, and Yuuri couldn’t be more grateful. Couldn’t feel more loved.

The next week passed in a blur and Yuuri started to adjust to Viktor’s absence. Even though, they were separated by oceans and time zone differences, Yuuri strove to make sure he had time to talk to Viktor everyday. All the day’s worries and all Yuuri’s anxiety were propelled away by the sound of Viktor’s voice.

The highlight of Yuuri’s days was the time he was able to spend with Viktor on the phone.

“Makkachin is doing better this week. The vet put him on an IV drip and prescribed crate rest for the next few days. There were no side effects from the operation.”

Yuuri released a relieved sigh. “That’s great, Viktor. I’m so glad that there were no complications…”

“Yeah~me too, solnishko.” Viktor’s voice was an intimate whisper and when Viktor breathed the next words through the line, Yuuri’s body froze and the low, bobbing feeling of affection in his stomach pulsed.

“It’s nearly time for your lesson with Lilia, Laska. I’ll see you again tonight.”

Yuuri nodded and hastily breathed out a soft: “O-Ok...”

There was a fond chuckle from Viktor before his soulmate hung up, and Yuuri stared at the phone in his hands like a fool until a disgusted snort brought Yuuri out of his thoughts.

“You guys are gross. Get a damn room-” Yurio threw Yuuri’s duffel bag at him and gestured towards the elevator.

“The old lady told me to come and get you early for our lesson today. Something about a guest coming.”

Yuuri hummed and bent down to tie his shoes, before he followed Yurio down into the empty studio. The next thirty minutes was spent stretching and Yuuri delved into the repetitive motions with relish, because stretching was one of the times where Yuuri’s mind could finally be silenced. That was the reason why Yuuri did not notice Lilia’s footsteps until the door clicked open and the stern, notorious ballet instructor strode in.

“That’s good. Both of you are done with your stretches.”

Lilia gave them both a pleased smile. “We don’t have a lesson today. I wanted to give you a day off to recuperate, but first I wanted to introduce you to someone before you take the next few days off.”

Yuuri shared a confused glance with Yurio from his periphery.

Then, there were another heavier set of footsteps that approached the door, and a tall man stepped into the studio’s bright lights.

The moment Yuuri saw the man’s face, his throat dropped into the bowels of his stomach and his vision blurred and grayed out. Yuuri’s arm snaked out and he grabbed the closest object beside him. He didn’t even realize he had grabbed onto Yurio’s arm, until Yuuri felt familiar fingers circle his elbow and keep him up. Nothing made sense and everything was a jumbled mess. There was deafening white noise and static that buzzed incessantly in his ears, and Yuuri felt tiny tremors run along the membrane of his skin like dancing electricity.

The face before him had aged and that hair, those eyes and that body were tinged with time, but they were the same replicas of the monster that slept under Yuuri’s skin. They were exactly the same as the life-sucking wraith that trailed behind Yuuri’s shadow. The wraith that killed all his dreams. The wraith that followed him like death in the beautiful light of the sun. The monster that Yuuri could never forget because the scars it left were so deep, he could still feel them in his dreams.

The monster before him was Ray. Ray fucking Eto.

-and Yuuri wanted to run away screaming, but he couldn’t do anything. All Yuuri could do was to stand there like a deer and wait for the car to hit him, because death was so much better than what this monster turned him into. What this monster left behind.

“This is my colleague, Ray Eto. He was one of my friend’s students. A distinguished dancer in his own rights.”

Everything sounded like it was underwater. What was happening-Was he even breathing? Was he drowning?

“-and these are my students: Yuuri Katsuki and Yuri Plisetsky.”

His rapist walked towards them and every limb in Yuuri’s body was like an ice sculpture. Frozen solid but laughingly breakable. Fragile.

“Nice to meet both of you.”

Yuuri skin crawled and it felt like every cell of his skin was alight with fire ants. The only thing that stopped him from flinching backwards and breaking down in a hysterical, terrified mess was Yurio’s presence. Was the ghost-like flicker of lewd hunger in those putrid eyes.

Yuuri fingers viciously spasmed on Yurio’s arm, and miraculously, Yuuri managed a few words before his throat closed up.

“Toi-Toilet...Yurio-feeling- si-sick-”

Lilia gave Yuuri a heavy, concerned look before she waved them off and he stumbled from the studio like he was being chased by the devil himself. The hallway blurred and tilted alarmingly, but for some mysterious reason, Yuuri’s wobbly jello-legs had not buckled yet. It was like being in a nightmare and Yuuri fumbled with the handle of a cubicle door with fingers that felt like noodles and eyes that felt like hellfire, but Yuuri managed to reach the rim of the toilet just as his esophagus rebelled and all the meager contents of his roiling stomach spilled out.

Yuuri panted and pressed his forehead against the hard plastic toilet seat until the sharp ache was impressed into his skin and onto the hard bone of his skull.

Distantly, Yuuri heard himself messily gasp for air. Messily try to gulp down some oxygen for his failing lungs. Any oxygen ... because Yuuri’s head felt like it was inflated with Helium and was going to float away in the blink of an eye. Yuuri lost track of time. Lost track of his identity.

Lost track of his grip on his own sanity. There was nothing except the noise and chaos of agony in his head. There was nothing but the ravaging war inside his battered mind, and Yuuri didn’t have the strength to pull himself out from the ruthless battlefield, so he just huddled there.

Lost.

Alone.

An eternity passed before the insistent sound of rattling metal penetrated the chaos in his head. Yuuri despondently huddled tighter and pressed his face into his arms. Yuuri was so resigned and numb that he didn’t even have the any hope left to beg, but the gentle hand that landed on his head was so unexpected that he stirred.

Yurio knelt before him without any traces of teenage prickliness. The only thing on his young friend’s face was distress that was deeply intertwined with concern. The sight of Yurio broke the frosty vines of numbness, and distress leaked into his mind with unparalleled vengeance.

Before Yuuri was aware of it, he flung himself at Yurio, desperately wrapped his arms around the young skater and pressed his forehead into Yurio’s collarbone. Yuuri wanted to press all the memories out of his mind. Wanted to bash his head against the floor until all the memories leaked out with all the blood.

An alarmed noise slipped out of Yurio. The slight wobble in the blonde’s voice when Yurio asked, "Do-do you need to go to the-the doctor?” made Yuuri’s guilt flicker, but it only lasted an instant before despair swallowed it up.

Yuuri shook his head viciously. He didn’t even attempt to speak because if he did, the only things that were going to tumble out were whimpers and screams.

So, Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut and shook himself apart in Yurio’s arms whilst Yuuri’s imagination conjured up Viktor’s arms and Viktor’s warmth. Whilst Yuuri’s imagination conjured up non-existent hope and safety.

Chapter Text

The darkness convulsed and shrank. Fierce and wild like a living, breathing organism. There was no mercy. No place that Yuuri could escape to. No place that offered refuge from adult hands and the sweltering heat of gyrating bodies. There was a scream lodged so deep in Yuuri’s esophagus he could feel it in the chambers of his lungs. There was nothing but a blur of agony and desperation, and nothing Yuuri’s small, child-like hands did helped him.

It was like free-falling into a black hole -a void with no beginning or ending- with nothing in sight except pitch-black darkness and silence that stretched out into eternity. There was nothing there except Yuuri and the skeletons that followed him from the closet, so when Yuuri’s mouth opened and stretched around the phantom erection, his throat rebelled and he jolted awake with a hopeless whimper and tears in his eyes.

Yuuri blindly clawed and flailed until his panicked mind registered the soft, downy smoothness under his fingertips. The pillow smelled fresh, but the growing dampness on the cover destroyed the facade, so Yuuri frantically pressed his face into the pillow until his gasps were forcefully muffled by the thick material. Moments crawled by with the same sluggishness that had invaded  every one of his thoughts, and when the iron cage around Yuuri’s chest loosened he pushed himself from the sofa on shaky arms.

The hotel room was illuminated by TV screen’s glow and it painted the walls of the room in a nuclear-blue that reminded Yuuri of the moon. The writing panic behind Yuuri’s retinas slowly trickled away. The beige colour of his hotel room was blessedly concealed under the blue glow and, suddenly, Yuuri’s legs went weak with relief. An arm shot out and grabbed his elbow. Instinctively, before Yuuri could comprehend the action, he flinched back like someone had lit his skin on fire.

A long, heavy silence stretched on and on ...marching forward without a care in the world.

The ants underneath Yuuri’s skin settled when Yuuri’s eyes landed on Yurio’s face. When it landed on green eyes, shoulder-length strands of sun-blended gold and an angular face.

“It’s ok, Katsudon. Look. See? I’m not gonna touch you-”

The sight of Yurio trying to comfort him made Yuuri’s head spin with confusion until he remembered yesterday’s events. Remembered how the door opened and how horror -so deep and consuming- slammed into him. For the first time in a decade, Yuuri’s ghost had finally returned to consume him and drag him back into hell.

“Y-Yu-” Yuuri’s voice broke halfway through his friend’s name, and Yuuri had to clear his throat a few times before his voice started to splutter back into life.

“-Yurio, wh-why are you h-here?” Yuuri’s stomach gave a dangerous heave and he instinctively latched onto the safety of his friend’s presence. As soon as Yuuri’s hand shot forward and enveloped Yurio’s arms in a shaking grip, the tension and angry concern on the young skater’s face eased.

“Did you forget, dumbass?-”

Yurio glanced away and ground his teeth, and the blatant display of protective anger restored some speck warmth into Yuuri’s toes.

“You got sick. Kept throwing up-” The naked fear in Yurio’s eyes nearly broke Yuuri’s resolve, but Yuuri held on to his tip-of-the-tongue secret with an unyielding grip.

“-I was...I think I ate some-something bad. I’m ok now, Yurio. You-you can leave now if you-”

Yuuri tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, but it must have been a pitiful attempt because Yurio’s eyes widened in shock.

“Che, don’t be stupid, Katsudon. I can’t leave you when you’re like this. You’d probably land in a hospital without me.” The arms that guided Yuuri to the bed was infinitely gentle, and Yuuri leaned into the comfort offered in that touch.

“Lie down before you fall down. I’m going to go out to get some-”

Before Yurio could finish his sentence, Yuuri’s arm shot out. He wasn’t even aware that he had squeezed that hard until Yurio let out a disgruntled hiss. Yuuri let go off his friend’s arm like it was a flaming-hot piece of coal.

The shame and self-loathing that flickered on Yuuri’s cheeks magnified the whispers behind his ears. The whispers that urged him to cut. To atone for hurting Yurio with his own blood...but, the elbow that nudged Yuuri’s arm was still kind. Understanding.

“Ok, fine. So what do you want to eat, katsudon?”

Yuuri dug into his reserves and managed to dredge up a frail smile for the young skater.

“I- maybe pizza?”

Yurio gave him a satisfied nod before his friend turned around and reached for the phone on the night stand. As soon as Yurio turned his back to Yuuri, Yuuri wiped a trembling hand over his eyes, catching the stray drops of tears that refused to fall but still lingered on the corners of his eyes. The renewed fear that ran through his veins was monstrous. Everything felt too sensitive and too numb at the same time, and no matter how much air Yuuri inhaled, there was a gaping hole in his lungs that made him feel empty.

Scraped raw.

It was like he was underwater, where everything was muted and distant but still there. It was like Yuuri was drowning on land... Drowning in plain sight and there was no one there to toss him a life jacket.

There was a buzz before Yuuri’s phone lit up. A text message from Viktor greeted him and the words: ‘You’re still sick so remember to take care of yourself, Lyubimiy’ made the cage around his lungs loosen and Yuuri inhaled his first deep breath in days.

The last three days were torture. It was like waiting for death on the execution stand, whilst every second of everyday Yuuri’s skin crawled with dread. Yuuri’s life stopped the day he saw Ray’s face. The universe stopped spinning and the world stopped moving, and slowly everything revolved around avoiding Ray like he was the damn bubonic plague.

This was the first time in three days that Yuuri chose to venture out of his hotel room. Every alarm in Yuuri’s head was dialed up to the maximum volume, but Yuuri pushed through the thick cloud of fear and kept it at bay until the hotel door clicked shut and his key card was buried inside his bag.

Yuuri focused on the tips of his shoes, even though every alarm in his head was going haywire. The klaxons of internal fear pounded against Yuuri’s ear, and, even silence rang with a high-pitched trill.

The path Yuuri took was a blur. A hazy recollection tucked behind his anxiety. However, the moment the genuine cold feeling of the ice hit Yuuri’s senses, everything stilled. The air was a crisp frostiness that soothed the voices in Yuuri’s head. It was a barrier. A shield.

It was his sanctuary and Yuuri couldn’t avoid the ice’s call even if he wanted to.  

The sight of his breath floating in front of him was a welcome sight, and a small chuckle ripped out of his lips with breathless wonder. That was the first laugh Yuuri had in days, and it was only right that his first laugh in days would be dedicated to the ice.

To the kingdom that protected his mind. To the kingdom of ice that gave him nothing but comfort and sanity.

So, when Yuuri’s skates touched the ice, he lost himself to the music that pulsed through his earphones and to the smooth, familiar glides that cut through the air. Yuuri danced and danced, and all his agonies were spilled across the pristine white like blood. There were no limits on the ice. Nothing except Yuuri and his body, and this was the only time Yuuri loved his body. The only time that he felt comfortable in his own skin.

As the music accelerated to a crescendo Yuuri tucked his body in and flung himself up, and the next few seconds hung in space like stars. When Yuuri landed, his face broke into a smile. He landed a steady triple jump and that joy trailed after Yuuri, even as he stepped off the ice.

The joy that was infused in Yuuri’s body blocked his senses with its brightness, so Yuuri did not hear the sonorous sound of claps echoing against the walls of the empty rink, until the noise permeated into his consciousness. Yuuri’s head whipped around in surprise and he nearly tripped when he saw who it was.

His former teacher casually stood a few meters away, with a mischievous grin on his lips and confidence oozing out of every pore.

“That was amazing, Katsuki-san.”

Yuuri felt every hair on his body stand on end and his stomach gave a warning roll. The fear that took a backseat on the ice, came back with vengeance and it ate every good thought.

There was nothing but hopelessness in Yuuri’s chest. The litany of -pleasenogodhelp nonononono- pulsed with the same insistence as Yuuri’s erratic heartbeat. Yuuri weakly pressed a sweaty palm into his stomach, hoping to shove in courage and tenacity so that the cowardly mass of fear would abate, but it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

Any measly drops of courage and strength that Yuuri had gained throughout the years, was washed away in the presence of his rapist. Every molecule in Yuuri’s body froze and the familiar feeling of numbness flooded his nervous system.

“Congratulations on getting second place in the Short Program,Yuuri-chan .”

Yuuri recoiled so fast and so hard that he hit the rink’s barrier with enough force to bruise his back. The nickname grated on his ears, and Yuuri had never heard nails on a chalkboard before, but this vile parody of his name will always be Yuuri’s ‘nails on chalkboard’.

“Do you remember me, Yuuri-chan? Because I recognized you the second I saw your face.”

No, this must be a nightmare. How-How can this still happen?

The questions lingered with Yuuri, and when a hand landed next to Yuuri’s head he screwed his eyes shut, unwilling to remember the sight of that face, staring at him at such a small distance away.

“I’ve missed you so much. Not matter who I found afterwards. I could never forget your beautiful face, Yuuri-chan.”

The whispers hit the shell of Yuuri’s ear in a convoluted, mocking caress. The smell of Ray’s cologne swamped his nostrils until it felt like he could choke to death on the odour, and the invasive finger that brushed from the tip of Yuuri’s ear and down his jawline made Yuuri want bathe himself with acid. Bathe himself with anything that could strip away the violation on his skin.

“Don’t you miss me, Yuuri-chan?” Ray’s lips brushed against Yuuri’s ear, and tears sprung to his eyes because he knew...

Yuuri understood lust.

There was nothing in the world Yuuri understood more intimately than lust. Nothing he understood more than violent lust, so when Yuuri felt Ray’s hand viciously clamp down on his hip and another hand trailed up his thigh, Yuuri bit his lips so hard he broke skin.

With a wobbly whimper, Yuuri hissed: “Don’t fucking touch me! Don’t you dare-! Get off-”

Ray’s hands stopped. The only thing that hung in the silence between them was Yuuri’s hitching breaths, and the silence crawled on until a tight grip circled his arm and slammed him against the barrier.

Yuuri gasped when Ray’s fingers dug into his skin.

When it dug hard enough to leave bruises.

“What are you going to do, Yuuri-chan? You don’t have the courage.” Ray’s smile was sharp and cruel, with echoes of violence lurking in those eyes.

“Little Yuri~ You call him- what was it again? Oh yes, Yurio,”

Horror welled up within Yuuri so fast, it left him dizzy with distress.

“Stay away from him ! Don’t you fucking dare!” Yuuri’s voice was a garbled snarl, pulsating with a protective fury that he rarely felt before. With a protective, savage fire that he didn’t even know he possessed.

“So go ahead. Tell the world!” Ray’s eyes were darker than the fires of hell and diluted with unconcealed gluttony. The Monster in front of him was perversely aroused by his distress and pain, and when Yuuri saw the same hungry gleam, it stirred old memories until past and present tangle and formed a ball of mishmash reality. 

“Tell your precious Viktor about me. Go on! Maybe your precious Viktor might like the videos, hmm?”

The feeling of utter despair and desolation sunk into Yuuri’s bones until every limb in his body felt as brittle as a snowflake.

“Will he still love you ? Will he still love someone who chose to stay instead of walking away?”

Yuuri shook his head and tried to dislodge the words from his head. Tried to dislodge the agony that ripped through his heart at the mention of Viktor’s name. The tears that flowed down Yuuri’s cheeks were saltier than the Dead Sea. They were like a brand. His own brand of shame.

“You had a lot of opportunities to report me to the police, but you didn’t, Yuuri-chan. You didn’t. The 10 children after you...well, isn’t that your fault?”

Ray’s last mocking murmur against Yuuri’s ears was ruthless, and it drove a stake of guilt into deep into his heart; so, when those vile, disgusting hands left his body Yuuri crumpled to the ground in a heap of agony.

In a heap of hopeless despair, because his monster was back and Yuuri didn’t know how to ask for help.

Didn’t know how to break away from his shackles.

From the prison of his past.

Chapter Text

The air was mildly cold, exacerbating the worry pulsing in Viktor’s chest. Viktor tightened the baby-blue scarf around his neck and fumbled with Yutopia’s doors before he managed to slide it open. The lights were a warm orange glow and the inn had a few straggling customers left. Viktor unwound the scarf around his neck and headed upstairs. As he passed by Yuuri’s mother, Viktor gave the sweet, kind woman a fond wave and a warm smile.

The stairs creaked beneath Viktor’s feet and the feeling of loneliness clung to his skin with bone-deep persistence. As soon as Viktor gently pushed open the door to Yuuri’s room, the space beside him burned with acute emptiness. The space where Yuuri’s body fit just perfectly into his arms. The space where Yuuri’s warmth should be.

Viktor ran restless fingers through his hair and a frustrated sigh escaped his lips when he pulled out Makkachin’s medical book and receipts from his pockets. The sight of strewn receipts on Yuuri’s bed made Viktor feel vividly alone. He felt like a deserted man with no support from anyone.

Viktor thought that feeling of loneliness would slowly fade away. The feeling of him against the world. He thought that he would be free from those strands of isolating loneliness, but sometimes that feeling returned and hit him with the strength of a sledgehammer; but it was not as cloying as before...because, this time, Viktor had Yuuri by his side.

It wasn’t like his empty apartment in Russia, with its white walls and quiet-as-death halls where nothing changed and everything was stagnant.

Even though, the loneliness returned with old greetings and warm hugs, Viktor felt less unanchored. Didn’t feel like the emptiness would swallow him alive...because now there was someone who Viktor could share himself with. Whom Viktor wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable with. Whose beautiful, scarred heart contained so much love that -some days- it took Viktor’s breath away.

Viktor let his head thunk against the wall behind him. The soft, blue moonlight that streamed through the window reminded Viktor of the constancy of the universe. The thought that Yuuri slept under the same night sky and under the same stars soothed some of the loneliness and alienation brewing under Viktor’s breast bone.

With a wry, bittersweet smile, Viktor fished his phone from the messy pile of knickknacks that were emptied from his pockets; and scrolled through his call log.

The last message Viktor received from Yuuri was eight hours ago and the sight stirred an unshakable feeling of concern in Viktor’s lungs, so Viktor flicked his contact list open and called Yuuri’s number.

The phone rang and rang and rang, but there was no reply...

Viktor glanced at his phone in dismay because Yuuri never missed his calls. Never went so long without leaving a message, so Viktor ran an agitated thumb across his bottom lip before he re-dialled Yuuri’s number. The rings carried on again and Viktor’s stomach gave a flip of anticipation, but after the fifth ring there was a click. Relief reared its head and Viktor breathed an alleviated sigh: “Yuuri? Lasoch'ka-”

The voice that answered him wasn’t Yuuri’s familiar tones, it was Yuratchka’s.

“Shh- he’s sleeping, dumbass. You’re gonna wake him up with all those insistent calls.”

Viktor blinked in surprise and the shock lasted for a second, before Viktor’s mind was flooded with concern.

“Yura?- Wha-What? Where’s Yuuri?”

“He’s still not feeling so well. I was out with Beka the whole day and when I got back to check in on Katsudon...he was stumbling back from the ice rink. I think the damn piglet pushed himself too hard.”

Viktor’s heart clenched and an overwhelming stream of guilt and self loathing assaulted him. He should be the one there with Yuuri. He should be the one there by Yuuri’s side. How the hell can he call himself a worthy partner if his love was suffering a world away and Viktor was here twiddling his thumbs?

“It’s been days, Yura. Take him to the doctor. I can’t. I’m not there -”

The young skater’s voice was tired and slightly grouchy, but the soft words soothed the small undercurrent of desperation under Viktor’s skin.

“Vitya. I can’t make the damn piglet go if he doesn’t want to! Katsudon, said he was fine and...well, he didn’t look that bad this morning. If he was, I wouldn’t have left him alone.”

“Why’s he still like that, then?! There must be something causing this-” Viktor’s voice tapered off into a tired, aching sigh and Viktor pressed a palm into his lips. The words and the helplessness that lingered on his tongue felt like ash. Thick, cloying and every speck was as fine as dust.

Minuscule unnameable words floated on the tip of Viktor’s tongue, yet he couldn’t find the words to articulate them, so he pushed them back in, where they gathered into a solid lump behind his voice box.

“Just-Just don’t worry too much, old man. Let me handle it. I’ll take care of the Kastudon-!” The stuttered, embarrassed and grumpy words from Yura brought a fresh wave of fondness and Viktor couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips.

There was an indignant pause that was so heavy, it practically fell out of the phone’s speakers. A moment later, there was a miffed and irate snort before the young skater practically snarled into the phone lines.

“Shut up, stupid Vitya! Fine. I’m not gonna talk to you if you’re just going to laugh at me!” Viktor muffled the last string of chuckles behind the skin of his knuckles, and the fond smile that stretched the corners of Viktor’s lips bled into his voice too.

“Sorry, Yura. I’m not laughing at you. I’m not. It’s just really nice to see how much you care for Yuuri.” Viktor’s voice dropped into a lower whisper...sincere and filled with raw emotion.

“Thank you, Yura,” There was a long pause. Viktor could imagine the blush that was staining little Yura’s cheeks and Viktor's cheeks quirked up in a mischievous, amused grin.

“What the hell was that for, dumbass! I don’t do this to get anything out of you, so stuff that misconception where the sun doesn’t shine-” Viktor bit his lips and waited for the rant to pass.

“-So yeah. How’s the furry ball doin’? Is the damn cotton fuzz still sick?”

“Much better. He’s at the vet for a while so they can keep him under observation. I brought him to get his weekly follow-up done but it seems like he’s developed a fever, so they’ll be keeping him there for a day or two.”

“Good for the furball. So, when will you be flying back? The Katsudon’s free skate program is coming up in two days.”

Viktor gave minute grimace and tapped a finger against the bed sheets that still held the faint traces of Yuuri’s scent.

“I can’t make it in such a short time. My earliest flight will be in ten days.” The guilt that was regulated to the background shouldered forward until it occupied Viktor’s parietal lobe.  

“I’ll let the Katsudon know when he wakes up-” There were shuffling sounds and Yuratchka’s voice drifted away. In the background, Viktor could hear Otabek’s calm, steady voice and the flare of gratitude infused Viktor’s lungs until the thick ball of mangled guilt and melancholy slowly melted away.

“Oi, Vitya. There’s-” His friend’s voice floated back towards the phone’s speakers, but there was a note of hesitance that perked Viktor’s curiosity.

“There’s something I want to ask- Is Katsudon your soulmate?- but ya don’t have to answer if you-” Viktor cut off his friend’s evasive rambles and answered in the calmest voice he could muster.

“I don’t know. We haven’t had it confirmed yet-” Viktor gave the poster peeking out from Yuuri’s desk a deep, thoughtful glance.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. We don’t need soulmarks or soulmates to be happy, Yura.”

Viktor loved Yuuri and that was enough. That was enough, because he never really cared for soulmates. Never believed that god or some mysterious, deterministic force like destiny, will dictate who you love. Who he chooses to share his life with.

Viktor’s parents were soulmates but they were always unhappy, and Viktor would rather spend his life avoiding the same fallacies his parents believed in. The memory of his parents only brought Viktor a bittersweet ache in his chest that was like an old, scabbed-over wound; healed but never really gone. Viktor never wanted to be like his parents. Never wanted to live in an unhappy home where unhappiness was the norm and affection was the anomaly.

“Well, duh - I know that, but- I just think you should talk to each other about this…”

When Viktor heard Yuratchka’s voice waver, a spike of uncertainty nudged at his composure.

“What? Why?- Do you think that this involves Yuuri somehow? Is this what’s-”

“Oi, Vitya! Calm down. God damn it -” Viktor forced the panic back down his esophagus and it settled like a cold metallic ball of dread at the base of his spine.

“It’s- It’s nothing! I just- I get the feeling that Katsudon’s avoiding something…”

Viktor mouthed the words to himself. Those words slowly sunk into his skin and dyed every skin cell with the blackness of sick anticipation.

“-maybe... I don’t know- It might not be a something- Maybe the piglet’s avoiding someone.”

“Someone .” Distantly, through a tunnel Viktor heard how dead, neutral and frosty his voice sounded. The ball of dread pressing against Viktor’s spine pushed frigid icy crystals through his bloodstream until all Viktor’s limbs were as cold as the gold medals he had won.

There was a bang from the phone and Viktor heard Yuratchka give a loud curse before he shot Viktor a hasty goodbye: “Shit! Fuck! The damn fucking bowls are too slippery- Ok, don’t worry I’ll take care of Katsudon. I’ll call you when he’s up.”

The phone call ended with a beep, and Viktor sat in the too-loud silence of the room like a mannequin doll. Viktor’s body was motionless but the words that played on a hamster wheel in his mind didn’t stop. The thought wiggled underneath Viktor’s skin and it lodged itself in his mind with the force of a burrowing worm. The seed had been planted and try as Viktor might, there was no getting rid of the whispers that this seed produced.

The whispers that crawled behind Viktor’s ears and made a home there. The whispers of doubt that said that maybe Yuuri was so sick because Yuuri met his soulmate...A soulmate that isn't Viktor. The fear and conflict that Yuuri must be in...could have exacerbated his illness. Maybe that was why Yuuri couldn’t tell Viktor...Maybe Yuuri couldn’t decide.

Just the thought of someone else’s hands traveling that skin, someone else’s eyes gazing into those chocolate-brown eyes, someone else’s heart receiving all that unclouded affection, lit Viktor’s heart on fire. Viktor pressed a fist against his sick stomach and the dry, scratchy feeling at the corner of his eyes were an old, familiar sensation. It was the sensation of pain; it was heartbreak past the point of tears.