Chapter Text
The world we lived in was cruel.
Thoroughly and unfairly cruel.
Sometimes you just couldn’t stop yourself from asking: “Why?” with an anguish cry.
Yet who ever told us that life was fair? That it would be filled with happiness and fulfillness? The thing with the universe was that it loved fucking people’s lives up, that it enjoyed stomping onto most of the people’s happiness just to make them feel terrible.
However, the universe and our lives are as disastrous as they’re beautiful.
Victor strode in their apartment after unlocking the front door with his own key. He removed his shoes, placed them on the shoe rack, and hung his coat on the coat rack just few feet away from the door. He was exhausted and wanted nothing but to lie on the bed and sleep until tomorrow morning. “I’m home~” He sing-sang and skipped happily inside their home because this was safety, this was where his live and love could be both found.
Makkachin came running towards him, and even after years of having the poodle as a companion, he was still surprised everytime Makkachin jumped on him as a greeting. He gasped and came propelling backwards onto the floor as their poodle licked his face excitedly. “Down, boy. Down!” He chuckled, but Makkachin continued on covering his face with saliva. He laughed and wrapped his arms around Makkachin. “I missed you too, Makkachin!” He exclaimed and buried his face in his poodle’s fur. His heart was beating so quickly but it was out of happiness.
Familiar sounds of footsteps made him look up. And there beside him and looking down at him amusedly was his husband—Yuuri Katsuki—he looked as amazing and breath-taking as usual. Victor always wondered why most people focused on him when he believed that Yuuri beat his beauty on and off the ice. “Welcome back, Victor. Looks like you’ve drowned under Makkachin again.”
He grinned, and mimicked someone drowning in the sea and raising a hand to get somebody to save him. “Help! Help! I’m drowning!”
Yuuri rolled his eyes and took Victor’s hands with his own before tugging the Russian up on his feet. He didn’t want to let go. “Why are you married to me again?”
He smirked, and rubbed Makkachin’s behind his ears, before facing the Japanese. Yuuri’s eyes were glinting because of the ceiling lights and damn, he was swimming in them. “Oh, Yuuri. You’re the one who gave me this ring in my ring finger, you know?”
“Oh please, you’re the one who proclaimed they`re engagement rings. I told you before when I first gave that to you—they were a pair of goodluck charms. And then you went and proclaimed we’d marry after I win gold.”
He laughed, and enveloped his arms around the brunet’s waist. He couldn’t believe he survived almost a whole day away from the man. “Let’s not fight over this. It was Phichit who suddenly congratulated us in Spain. Got the idea from him.”
Yuuri raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t try masking his bemusement. “Yeah, Victor. Blame my best friend.”
Victor chuckled, and leaned down to capture his husband’s soft lips with his own. Yuuri closed his eyes, and wrapped his arms around the Russian’s neck before standing on his toes to deepen their kiss. He smiled and obliged by nipping on the Japanese’s bottom lip – this elicited a breathless groan.
What did I do to deserve him?
Yuuri smacked his arm after few more moments. “Stop seducing me. You reek of sweat. And I have to go prepare dinner. Go shower, and the food will be done by just then.”
He laughed on the brunet’s lips, and nodded. But even after that, they were still embracing with eyes locked at each other. Because he couldn’t let go. He had never been this cling-y to anyone before aside from Makkachin and sometimes Yakov but that was it. He preferred having distance from people. As per usual, Yuuri was an exemption.
Yuuri sighed, and leaned his cheek on Victor’s chest. Victor smiled, and placed a lingering kiss on the crown of the brunet’s head. He smelled like strawberry. They were in that position until Makkachin pawed up onto Yuuri’s side, asking for either of their attention.
The Japanese finally released him, and hugged Makkachin before heading towards the kitchen. “Go take a bath, Victor. We’ll still be here!”
He shook his head in amusement with his husband’s weird sense of humor, and strode towards their bedroom to get new clothes and headed to the bathroom.
Victor started the shower, and let himself indulge into the water’s warm that eased his body’s ache. It was Yuuri’s day off so he was the only one who went to the training rink to be coached under Yakov. The other day will be his day off but he’d be in the rink to train Yuuri the whole day.
He fulfilled what he promised to his husband three years ago in Barcelona, Spain. That he’d come back to competitive figure skating while still coaching Yuuri. It was pretty hard, at first, but with patience from Yakov and determination from Yuuri – he got the hang of it after one season. It was pretty taxing for someone his age, but Yuuri always insisted that he could quit whenever he wanted. Because Yuuri was selfless. Even if he sometimes did selfish decisions, he always wanted the best for others—often forgetting to take care of himself, making Victor fall in love with him even more.
However, Victor planned to try again for this season. It might be his last, though, because his body couldn’t compete and coach anymore – it would take a lot of toll from him. And he badly wanted to enjoy his years knowing he didn’t kill himself from overexertion.
Yuuri didn’t easily snatch the gold. Although Victor did promise that he’d marry Yuuri when he won gold, yet he didn’t specify which gold. Which was why he surprised the world again when he suddenly knelt in one knee in front of the podium after Yuuri snatched gold at his second Rostelecom Cup. Yes, Victor threw the question at his student when Yuuri stood at the middle with gold hanging from around his neck. And yes, he asked that big query in his own country in live television and in front of people who supported them, were disgusted by them or were still uncertain if what he and Yuuri had was real.
He was, again, shocked when Yuuri suddenly began sobbing on the stage. Panicking, he looked around and caught Phichit’s laughing face and Yurio’s expression that said Hah, you made him cry again. He wasn’t ready when Yuuri went down the stage, hugged him tightly and screamed a cracked, “Yes!”
He forgot the times he thought that a day was the best day of his life. Because, he found out, Yuuri made every day special for him. That day when he went to Hasetsu, when Yuuri told him that he just needed to be himself, when Yuuri and he kissed in live television years ago, when he was given a ring in Barcelona, when Yuuri promised him five more years in the figure skating world, and especially when they got married with all of their family and friends surrounding them.
Makkachin was the ring-bearer. Yuuri’s best man was Phichit. Victor’s was Yakov. They held each other’s hands as they each said their vows in front of everyone, tears streaming down their cheeks. Yuuri’s last few lines struck him the most when Yuuri recited his wedding vows: You are my everything, and I’m willing to burn the world for you. Everyone can take everything away from me, but not the memory of me loving you to the bottom of my heart.
Now, they still lived in Russia with Makkachin by their sides at all times. Yurio was living with his Yakov and Lilia just few streets away, his grandfather was just few towns away but he did his best to visit Yurio or watch Yurio’s practice as much as he could.
After scrubbing himself clean, he stepped out of the shower into a new pair of clothes. He strolled inside the kitchen and found a feast right on top of their dining table. “Wow!” He exclaimed and eyed the Katsudon bowls—Yuuri made Katsudon as greatly as his mother did. “What’s the occasion?”
Yuuri chuckled. “That would be enough for everyone, right?” He asked as he placed a pitcher of strawberry juice in the middle.
He nodded and sneakily took a piece of tempura. “Yum!” He gasped and giddily drooled over his husband’s cooking. He was a decent cooker but Yuuri was far better especially coming from a family whose business was maintaining an onsen. “It’s enough. Too much, in fact, but Yurio has a big appetite, anyway. But, Yuuri, really. What’s up?”
Yuuri laughed and scratched his cheek sheepishly. He was adorable. “It has been three years since you all took me in here in Russia. I just wanted to make these as a token of my grati—Oomph!”
He approached his husband quickly, and embraced the brunet from behind. He placed a kiss on the Japanese’s shoulder and murmured, “Best decision, ever.”
Yuuri wrinkled his nose after being tickled by Victor’s hair which he hadn’t combed yet.
“I love you,” He whispered, eyes never leaving his husband’s face.
The Japanese smiled warmly, and kissed Victor’s nose. “I love you too.”
God, Victor loved him.
He frowned as Yuuri did a triple axel instead of triple toe loop. And this was the second time the brunet did it wrongly. It was a little unnerving to watch. “Yuuri!” He called out, and paused the music.
Yuuri abruptly stopped, and turned to face him.
The thing was: he seemed confused why Victor stopped their practice. Usually whenever he did a mistake, Yuuri was the first one to notice – even going as far as scolding himself even if he just raised his foot few inches more to the left or right. Yet for the past few hours, he looked like he didn’t even notice a single mistake he’d done.
“Victor?”
The Russian patiently mussed his hair and clasped his hands together. “Yuuri, at the second part, you’re supposed to do a triple axel, correct?”
Yuuri blinked. “It’s not a triple toe loop?”
He sighed, and smiled. How could he really get angry with those wide eyes staring at him in wonder? “No, Yuuri. It’s a triple axel. You were doing so great until that error. It’s okay, this is just the second time you made a mistake so no pressure.”
The brunet placed a hand over his mouth. “Second?”
He tilted his head in a side in confusion. He had been watching his husband attentively. He was pretty sure it was the second. “Remember? You did a double salchow instead of quadruple toe loop for your first jump few minutes ago?”
His husband blinked twice, frowned, and then gasped. “O-Oh yeah! I forgot! Sorry, it seems like my head’s pretty messed up today. Must be because of jet lag. We just arrived yesterday, after all.” The brunet bowed. “Sorry, Victor.”
Victor leaned over the board and brushed his husband’s cheek with a thumb. “Don’t worry, my Yuuri. That was okay. We all do mistakes. You’re doing perfectly fine. Don’t put a lot of pressure into yourself for those errors, okay? I don’t want you getting anxiety attacks again, it hurts me as much as it hurts you after all.”
Yuuri leaned onto his palm, and sighed contentedly. “Okay,” He murmured with a smile.
He let go of the other –he didn’t know why it hurt-- and resumed the music. Yuuri got it correctly for the next try. And even at the next.
Victor’s unease slowly faded away. But it was still there, lingering.
He looked over his shoulder when Yuuri walked back into the living room with a scrunched up face. “What’s wrong, Yuuri?”
Yuuri scratched the back of his neck. “…Have you seen my phone?”
Huh.
He pointed the socket from behind beside the Television set. “You just plugged it in two minutes ago to charge it, remember?”
The Japanese laughed, and then sighed. “I did? Damn, looks like I’m getting old.”
He rolled his eyes at the brunet, and pulled his husband to sit beside him on the couch; Yuuri obliged, and even went forward to wrap his arms around Victor’s waist. He, in turn, cupped Yuuri’s cheeks and squished them. He looked like a hamster. “Do not tease me, Yuuri. I’m the older one between us. Goodness, I’m thirty! I still cannot be—“
“Victor, you’re thirty-one, why won’t you—“
He placed a hand over his husband’s mouth. “Hush. Let me have this. It’s a just a year out of my real age. No one will know and notice.”
Yuuri laughed, the sound so majestic and beautiful—Victor wanted him to be this happy all the time. “Victor, you’re a living figure skating legend. Everyone knows everything about you.”
He leaned to kiss Yuuri’s forehead. Yuuri smiled and closed his eyes, and let himself be peppered with kisses from his forehead down to his jaw. Victor never got tired of doing it because Yuuri deserved it. Yuuri deserved all of the love and attention Victor could give him. Yuuri deserved all of the kisses and hugs he’d tried pulling away from because of his anxiety. Yuuri deserved all of the stars and universes out there.
It had been two months since then and Yuuri was terrified.
He woke up to find someone beside him. Someone he didn’t know. No, it wasn’t that he didn’t know him. It was that he couldn’t recall the person’s name. And it was frightening him – that blankness in his head as he tried to remember was clawing his heart out.
The person snored lightly and rolled onto the other side with few noncoherent words out of his lips. Yuuri quietly sat up and padded towards the bathroom. He turned on the light and approached the mirror. He stared at himself, and whispered: “Your name is Yuuri Katsuki N-N-Ni…” He trailed off not remembering the last part of his name.
But who was sleeping beside him?
He shut his eyes and thought hard. He fisted his hands on his hair and leaned his forehead against the mirror before him, trying so hard to remember that person’s name. He was important, very very important to Yuuri. In fact, Yuuri believed that that person meant the world to him.
So why then can’t you remember him?
His mind flashed him memories wherein that person showed up again and again. His mind stopped on a memory of him running from their onsen’s front door to the bath house. He opened the doors and found that person soaked until his abdomen. He remembered falling on his butt and whispering a shocked, “V-Victor—“
“Victor!” He whispered in hysteria. He opened his eyes and stared at himself again. “His name is Victor. V-V-V-Victor Nikiforov. H-He’s your husband for two years. He’s your coach for three. Your poodle’s name is Makkachin. And you’re Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov.”
He took rapid breaths, and let the tears fall.
What’s happening to me?
He returned to their bed room and tucked back in bed with Victor still lying peacefully beside him. His eyes widened when the Russian rolled to face him, and wrapped Yuuri with his arms, as if protecting him from the world.
“Are you okay?” Were the words he received from on top of his head.
I’m not.
His tears threatened to fall again but he pushed them down.
He embraced his husband back, and hid his face in the silver-head’s chest. He nodded, bit his bottom lip and clung onto the other as if his life depended on it. It must be.
Victor tightened his arms around Yuuri, and murmured, “You might not be okay right now. You might not be okay later. And remember, I’m always here for you anyway.”
But will I be for you?
He nodded again, and absorbed the other’s scent and warmth. Because later when he wakes up, he might forget who this man was…again.
And that was unfair to Victor.
It terrified him.
Another month and half passed by, and Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from worrying anymore. Things were getting worse, and he didn’t know why.
Last week, he messed his practice up so bad because he kept on jumbling his sequences and his jumps for every part of both of his routines. He interchanged his plans for both routines, and it almost made him cry to see Victor a little disappointed.
It didn’t also help that several days ago, they had new rinkmates and after all this time he still couldn’t remember their names. He had always been good with remembering names easily—living in Detroit for five years did that. He knew them by their faces but he couldn’t just recall their names when he needed to. It flustered him.
English was also becoming quite hard for him to use. He couldn’t find the right words when he was having conversations. Sometimes, he stopped in the middle of what he was saying because his mind was missing a single word of phrase to express himself. He knew what he wanted to say but he couldn’t seem to say them out loud as easily as before. That’s why there were times he preferred being quiet.
He was also having difficulty on going along with the plans that he usually set up for the last years they had been living together like: when to pay the bills, when to buy grocery, when to do the laundry, when to buy new pair of skates. He made mental notes and sometimes even wrote them down, but he just couldn’t seem to follow them through. He actually forgot to go grocery shopping and almost starved Victor the day before because all they had in the fridge was a pint of ice cream and energy drinks. Victor laughed his worry off.
Yuuri also lost his glasses a week ago in the mall when they were out to buy new clothes and he needed to remove his glasses since he couldn’t try the clothes if he had them on. He was devastated until he got a new pair.
The last straw was when he almost forgot Yurio’s birthday – something that he always reminded himself of because he usually do handmade gifts for those important to him.
So his next day off, he begrudgingly lied on Victor’s face and told the other that he would go roam around at the market –there was a sale—since he wanted a breather. Victor stared at him in confusion and worry for few seconds before telling him to take care. An hour after his husband had gone to the training rink, he ran to a clinic with Makkachin by his side to get himself checked.
It was good thing he had set-up an appointment few days ago, and didn’t forget about it.
Because this couldn’t go on.
He couldn’t go on like this not knowing what was wrong.
The several tests he needed to take took him few hours.
And he couldn’t help his hands from shaking as he took the paper from the doctor’s hand and reading the results himself.
Alzheimer’s Disease.
He had Alzheimer’s disease, and it had already stepped towards the fourth stage. It was just until the seventh stage. He was halfway from forgetting everything about him and those around him.
He skimmed over what could transpire for every stage of his illness, and his stomach constricted when he found out that the symptoms were too obvious to try hiding.
You intended to hide it?
Yuuri raised his eyes and listened attentively as the doctor told him everything: from the cause, to the symptoms he would have seen sooner, what would happen to him, what they could do and what they couldn’t do. The doctor smiled sadly as he told Yuuri that it wasn’t truly curable and that life expectancy for each patient was different from one another.
His throat was thick with emotion as he honestly told the other when he noticed his memory being fucked up. His heart sped up when the doctor’s eyes widened with this new profound information. “Too quick,” He murmured and frowned down at Yuuri’s results.
Those two words didn’t really help him.
“D-D-Does this mean I might also forget about my husband? About those that I hold dear?”
The doctor looked back at him and slowly nodded. “In fact, there are some cases who preferred being in hospitals that are focused on those with Alzheimer’s especially when they began to feel like they also cause hardships and heartaches to those that they consider as important. It’s heartbreaking seeing someone being carded away by his own will because he didn’t want to keep on asking people: ‘Who are you?’”
The tears finally trailed down his cheeks. The doctor pushed the tissue box near him and whispered comforting words to him.
They didn’t work.
Makkachin, who was allowed to come inside because of persistence on Yuuri’s side, placed his front paws on Yuuri’s lap and looked up sadly at Yuuri as if he sensed the Japanese’s sadness.
Yuuri bit his bottom lip and hugged their poodle tightly into his chest. “God, Makkachin. I don’t want to forget about you.”
Makkachin whined and licked his face once before settling his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder.
I don’t want to forget anything.
Or everything.
The moment the door opened, Yuuri stood up and ran towards the front door.
Victor wasn’t even done removing his coat when the brunet came and threw himself at his husband’s arms. Victor, of course, opened his arms instinctively and caught Yuuri effortlessly seeing as they had been throwing each other at each other’s arm for the past few years at every occasion they could do so.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Victor murmured with a low chuckle. His arms tightening around Yuuri.
Yuuri buried his face on the other’s chest and clutched his hands tightly at the back of the silver-head’s shirt. He couldn’t imagine forgetting all about this person. He couldn’t imagine a time wherein he’d forget everything that they’d encountered. He just couldn’t believe that there would come a time that he’d be afraid to throw himself in Victor’s arms because he forgot about the Russian.
Victor worriedly brushed the brunet’s hair and rubbed circles on Yuuri’s back. “Yuuri?”
He swallowed the sob that his throat wanted to betray him with. “I missed you.”
I will miss you.
Victor smiled on top of his head, and breathed in Yuuri’s scent. “I missed you too.”
Victor bit his bottom lip and clasped his hands in worry. It has been three weeks since Yuuri came propelling from the living room into his arms and almost broke down for some unknown reason. Since then, Yuuri never let himself be left alone on Victor’s day-off anymore. He always came along, and watched from the sidelines. Victor was fine with that except it wasn’t excitement that he was seeing in his husband’s eyes. They were sadness, fright and desperation. Every time he could, Yuuri would either cling to him, skate on the ice until he was sweating badly or hanging out with his rinkmates or chatting with those that were far away.
Victor never saw him doing nothing. Yuuri was always moving, always doing something, always trying his best to make the most out of something. It’s like he was enjoying every second that he could get.
It scared Victor.
It was making Victor nervous because everytime he asked, Yuuri would straight-out lie or distract him with something else.
He flinched when Yuuri fell again.
“That’s his fourth mistake for the last few hours, Vitya,” Yakov mumbled as Yuuri tried his best to stay in the beat as the music continued.
Yurio glided towards his direction and leaned his elbows backwards against the boards. “Is he alright? This isn’t the first time he’s done so many errors in one day; this has been going on for almost a month.”
He gritted his teeth when Yuuri made another error. His heart clenched when the brunet growled in frustration, fell on his knees and covered his eyes with his gloves hands before sobbing his rage out.
Mila and Georgi quickly skated towards the Japanese and tried shushing him. Yuuri clenched his teeth and let himself be wrapped with Mila’s arms. Georgi took the brunet’s water bottle and handed it to the latter.
Yuuri, what are you hiding?
He found out the answer a week after when he was arranging their luggage for their flight to China for Victor’s Cup of China competition. Yuuri was downstairs, preparing the food they’d bring to the airport and the things he had prepared to give to his co-skaters especially to Phichit, whose birthday he missed.
Victor was humming Yuuri’s free skate song when he went and grabbed Yuuri’s duffel bag from on top of the dresser. He opened it and took out Yuuri’s belongings to put them inside his bigger backpack. He asked for permission first earlier, anyway, so no guilt was churning him.
He blinked when he found an envelope inside with lots of papers inside. He took it out, opened the zipper and took out the smallest paper folded in front. He unfolded it, and found his breath taken away.
He gulped twice and skimmed his eyes over the page again. Again. And again.
Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov and Alzheimer’s Disease were printed on the same paper.
As if on cue, their bedroom swung open and Yuuri strode in with plate on his hands. “Victor~ I made spring ro—“ He stopped from his tracks when he saw Victor and the paper in the silver-head’s hands. “Vi—“
“Tell me this is just a fraud,” He whispered, eyes capturing those frightened brown eyes he loved so much.
Yuuri set the plate down on the table beside the door, and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.
“Yuuri, tell me this is just a jo—“
“It’s not,” The Japanese murmured, voice cracking.
He stood up and pointed the results portion when he was few feet away from his husband. “You have Alzheimer’s Disease and you never told me?” Yuuri nodded. “And you had known for a month?” Another nod. “When are you planning to tell me?”
He received no answer, and for some unknown reason, it broke his heart even more.
“Don’t you trust me?” He muttered, throwing the paper over his shoulder, and taking the brunet’s hands in his.
“Of course I do!”
He squeezed the other’s hands, and tried not to tear up when he countered, “Then what were you planning? Hide this from me –us—until you forgot about yourself?”
Yuuri shook his head, bit his bottom lip, and mumbled a broken and heart-broken, “I was actually thinking of leaving to go move into an Alzheimer’s Disease-focused hospital when you’re away for a competition.”
“Are you trying to kill me?” He snapped lowly. “Do you really think it’ll be as easy as that? That I wouldn’t panic? That I wouldn’t burn the world? That I wouldn’t turn the world upside down? That I’d just let it go like that?”
Yuuri furrowed his eyebrows, and clung onto Victor’s hands like when he let go, he’d disappear completely. “Victor, that is the end of all of this, you know.”
“It isn’t! We can find a way—“
“It’s not curable. In fact, I cannot even remember when I specifically arrived in Detroit. What age I started skating. And where I got Vicchan.” He paused and looked up to meet Victor’s eyes again. “I’m halfway pass stage four, Victor. For more weeks or months, I won’t even remember what I ate few minutes ago. Several weeks and I won’t know how to budget money or even count money.” He tried so hard not to cry as he whispered, “I don’t know. I might even forget when you arrived in Hasetsu.”
Before he knew it, tears had trailed down his cheeks. “Does that mean you’ll forget about me too?”
Yuuri’s own tears were taken as a confirmation.
He licked his lips but they remained dry. He reached and cupped his husband’s cheeks, eyes not leaving the other’s. “Don’t leave.”
“I have to. In maybe half a year, I’d need to because I won’t even know how to stand up and do my daily r-r…” He trailed off. He seemed frustrated as he tried to find the right word.
“Routines?” He filled in.
Yuuri smiled sadly. “See? I can’t even communicate to you properly anymore.”
He leaned his forehead against Yuuri’s, and let himself continue crying. Because that’s all he could do. He badly wanted to fight off this disease that clung to the Japanese, but he couldn’t. He was useless. “How long do you have?”
Yuuri wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck and worried his lips. “I don’t know, Victor. Some last for ten years. Some last for five. I might last for one and half with the rate this is going.”
One and half.
Not enough.
Never enough.
“And I’ve already wasted almost half a year seeing as I’m in stage four already,” Yuuri bitterly added. “The universe is cruel, Victor.”
“It is, isn’t it?” He replied, placing a trembling kiss on his husband’s forehead.
Silence enveloped them except for the occasional sobs that they couldn’t stop.
He couldn’t help from saying, “You said you’d grow old with me.”
Yuuri gritted his teeth, and whispered, “I still would. But you wouldn’t see me.”
God.
He wailed as he tightened his embrace around Yuuri, shielding him from the world that wanted to take him away, shielding him from fate that was too cruel for its own good, and shielding him as much as Victor could because their days were numbered. A countdown had begun, and it hurt Victor to know that everytime he’d look at the calendar, he grew even closer to losing the only pillar of his life.
Few minutes before Yuuri’s performance, Victor whispered a request to the organizers’ ears. He was met with wide eyes and shocked expression which he returned with a bitter nod. One of the announcers handed him a microphone, and Victor ran back to the board to hand it over to Yuuri.
Yuuri shakily accepted it, and placed a kiss on Victor’s nose. “Thank you,” He murmured and glided towards the center of the rink.
Yurio turned up beside him, and raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the boards. “What’s he up to? What are you two up to?”
He smiled sadly at the blond, and ruffled the younger’s hair. He received a sneer he didn’t even have an energy to laugh to. Everything hurt.
“Good evening, everyone,” Yuuri started, voice shaking in nervousness. “This might be the first time a skater spoke in front of the audience like this. But I’d like to warn all of you in advance.” He paused, glanced at Victor, and faced in front again with thinned lips. “I am retiring after this. Like, literally after this.”
A commotion broke out from the audience.
Even Yurio grabbed Victor’s shirt and hauled him closer. The rage in those green eyes somehow made Victor even more depressed. “ What is the meaning—“
“I have Alzheimer’s Disease,” Yuuri announced. “You might have noticed how messed up I had been for the past few months for this season, and it’s because of this. I am retiring after this because I cannot go on. I don’t think I’d even perfect the last routine I’d perform in my life. But I’d like to say that I am overwhelmed with the support you had all given me. This is the end for me, but I hope I somehow placed something permanent in your lives.” He bowed lowly, tears streaming down his face. “Thank you.”
He didn’t even start his performance yet, but suddenly it was raining with flowers. They all raised their eyes as people who’d come to support every competitor tonight threw the flower he or she had in his/her hand.
Yurio was silently gaping at the brunet on the rink. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” He muttered.
Victor brushed the ring on his ring finger. “He found out a month and few days ago. He couldn’t remember much anymore, Yurio. He’s in stage four of seven. Yesterday, he even forgot when he first met Makkachin.”
The blond beside him turned quiet. And when Yuuri had began his performance and Yurio still remained silent, Victor begrudgingly turned. His eyes widened when he found Yurio silently sobbing with his eyes glued at the Japanese. “Yurio—“
Yurio bit his bottom lip, and sniffed. “It’s unfair,” He croaked. “It’s fucking unfair. He told me he’d still be there for me until I retire. He told me he’d be by the sidelines when he had retired and I still skate. He promised me that he’d grow old with us.” He wiped his tears but more pooled down his cheeks.
When Yuuri was done performing, he received a standing ovation after those two mistakes he’d done. And the moment he arrived at the kiss and cry, Yurio threw himself at the brunet’s arms.
He didn’t say anything. But he didn’t need to.
His heart-wrenching snuffles were enough.
Few more months and Yuuri had passed into the fifth stage. He couldn’t remember his phone number. He had forgotten some parts of his past – when he first ate his Katsudon, what countries he had been to and when Vicchan’s birthday was.
He also couldn’t move properly. He needed help to dress up and undress. He could still bathe and go to the toilet by himself. But he preferred being in one place and not moving.
Every morning when they wake up, Victor turn over and cup his husband’s cheeks. “Who am I?”
“Victor Nikiforov. My husband. My late coach.”
“And you are?”
“Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov. I’m twenty-seven years old. I’m a top figure skater from Japan. I’m your husband. The man who loves you dearly and would always love you even if fate cruelly takes all of memories away.”
Every morning, they break into tears in each other’s arms.
No one knew how much those two questions being answered correctly meant to him.
Yurio entered the Nikiforov’s home after unlocking the front door. He asked for an early dismissal from Yakov. Victor was currently at the Hospital, setting some of Yuuri’s papers so he left the key in Yurio’s hand.
He walked inside and didn’t miss to pet Makkachin’s head. He followed after the poodle and found Yuuri lying on the bed with his head turned towards the window. His eyes were sad and a little empty.
It was taking his everything to not break down then and there.
He sat at the edge of the bed and grumbled, “Oi, Katsudon.”
Yuuri turned, and a bright smile spread on his face. “Yurio!”
He still remembers me, thank God.
“Can you still speak English?” He asked, eyes not leaving Yuuri’s teary ones.
Yuuri pursed his lips. “A little. Can’t form long sentences anymore.”
He sniffed, and slowly took the brunet’s hand. “Then just shut up and listen because I will never say whatever I’ll say today ever again.” He received a nod. He traced patterns and circles on the back of Yuuri’s hand while he stared at the Japanese’s paling and thinning figure. “You didn’t even let me beat your world record. I actually hope no one gets to beat it because that will be one of the things that you can leave behind for all of us.” He sniffed and pushed the tears down.
“The training rink’s quieter and gloomier ever since you retired. It felt so different. Especially after Victor retired right after you did to take care of you. The energy and brightness of the place disappeared.”
He paused and poke Yuuri’s ring which was almost falling from his thin and bone-y finger. “You promised me you’d be there until I grew up. This is you not fulfilling your promise, you fucking idiot.” His voice cracked.
He raised his eyes and found the Japanese silently crying from where he laid. His own tears finally dropped.
“You’re going away soon, aren’t you?” He whispered, afraid of the answer.
Yuuri shut his eyes and nodded.
“You’re going to forget all about me soon, aren’t you?”
Another pained nod.
So Yurio bit his bottom lip and murmured a childish, “Then, for the last time that you might remember me, can you listen to my rants and cusses?”
Yuuri re-opened his eyes, met Yurio’s green ones, and smiled warmly. “Yes. Even after I’m gone, you can still rant to me, Yurio. I’ll always listen. I might not be there physically but I’m always listening.”
Damn him and his selflessness and unconditional love and friendship.
So Yurio let his mouth run. And let his tears fall. Because this might be the last time he’d have the Japanese to actually listen to him – this knowledge broke his heart.
Victor surprised the Katsuki Family with a sudden one week stay in Hasetsu when Yuuri was nearing losing every memory of his about who he was, is and will be.
He leaned against the wall as Hiroko, Toshiya, Mari, Minako, Takeshi, Yuuko, Axel, Lutz and Loop huddled around Yuuri and peppered him and spoiled with everything and anything.
And for that week, Victor let Yuuri go.
Because the Katsuki Family deserved this much.
All he could do was cry in a corner as he tried to create new memories for Yuuri’s disappearing ones.
It was in Yuuri’s eight month of being diagnosed with Alzheimer’s when he hit the sixth stage.
Victor was expecting pain when this day arrives, but not this much.
He rolled over to his other side as a new starts. And when his eyes met those brown eyes he was so fond of, he didn’t expect his greeting to be:
“Who are you?”
They were just three words. But they were enough to break his heart into million pieces and for his life to go crashing down into the flames.
Yuuri clasped his right hand with Victor’s. “When we wake up one day and I ask you: ‘Who are you?’ that’s the day I want you to take me to the Alzheimer’s disease-focused hospital that we talked about.”
He clenched his teeth, and squeezed his husband’s hand. “Can’t you just not leave?”
“It’ll only hurt us more, Vitenka.” A pause. “Promise me you’ll survive when I’m gone.”
“I can’t—“
“Victor, I want you to continue being happy and surviving even until I’m gone. Promise me. Promise me you’ll find a way to continue living.”
“I…promise.”
“Live. Just live.”
He buried his face in the brunet’s shoulders and let sobs rock him. Because he knew the day was near.
He wrapped his arms around the Japanese and placed a lingering kiss on the Japanese’s forehead. He shut his eyes and whispered the last part of his wedding vow: “Fate is cruel. The universe won’t care. The world might burn to hell. But whatever will ever separate us to death, I’ll always be with you in spirit.”
Yuuri still didn’t remember Victor and Makkachin at the middle of the day. So Victor called Yuuri’s doctor and a taxi to start packing up to fulfil his promise to his husband.
Another promise he had complied into was visiting only once a week and not everyday. It hurt him to do so, but Yuuri didn’t want Victor to every day wake up and visit him as if it’s part of his routine and as if Yuuri was the only center of his life.
Even nearing his end, Yuuri still wanted Victor to remain as Victor.
So Victor spent six days with different people, creating his own memories and letting the world know how much Yuuri meant to him. He accepted to coach Yurio alongside Yakov who was slowly reaching his retirement day as well.
He hung out with his co-skaters and co-competitors and re-told their stories about that Japanese boy who grinded to him at a GPF banquet.
He was doing well for the past few months even if Yuuri was gradually losing everything and every memory he had. The brunet couldn’t control his bladder and bowel. He was also having behavioural issues.
Everytime someone he knew visited him, he’d look at them in confusion and ask them: ‘Who are you?’ It tore everyone’s heart to pieces to find such a charming, persistent, determined and bright boy losing his brightness and smile.
It was like a torch that kept the skaters going had dimmed and had begun to lose its light until it’s gone and couldn’t be lit up again.
He broke down when he found Phichit’s phone’s wallpaper. It was photo of the Thai and Yuuri back in Detroit, laughing while under the snow. Every gadget that he could put wallpaper with had the two of them as the background. He didn’t miss the way Phichit’s voice broke and cracked everytime he spoke his best friend’s name.
“I miss him,” was the last straw. Phichit was crying.
“I miss him too,” He murmured, sniffing.
The next time he visited he was brought into shock. Because the moment he opened the Yuuri’s door, he found photos all around him. Cut-outs, printed on blank papers, photo papers, instax photos and even posters. He was surrounded with faces that he recognized: Phichit, Yurio, Makkachin, Vicchan, Yakov, Mila, Lilia, Georgi, Hiroko, Toshiya, Takeshi, Mari, Yuuko, Axel, Lutz, Loop, Chris, JJ, Otabek, Seung-Gil, Emil, Mickey, Leo, Guang-Hong, Minami, Sara, Kelly, and few more he had seen before on and off the ice and in the center of the table were framed photos of the two of them.
The most center was their ‘Stammi Vicino’ duet.
He brushed his thumb on the photo, and gulped.
He didn’t know who did it but he was pretty sure Yuuri had some involvement in it.
It always pained him to step on this room.
It had been a year and five months.
He approached the bed and sat on the edge of the bed of a barely breathing Yuuri. In the past few weeks, the brunet had lost the ability to fight off infections and diseases. His immune system had grown weaker. He couldn’t communicate anymore and couldn’t move by his own.
What hurt Victor the most was the fact that Yuuri had also lost the ability to swallow which resulted to him losing weight and being dehydrated.
He motioned for Makkachin to place his front paws beside Yuuri’s pillow. Makkachin complied and watched Yuuri with saddened eyes.
He caressed his husband’s cheek and whispered, “I love you.”
Yuuri painstakingly opened his eyes and stared right at Victor.
The Russian was waiting for his usual greeting that still wounded him even after hearing them hundreds of times.
He didn’t expect for a smile to break off into that face he loved so much. “…V-V-Victor,” He whispered.
Tears rolled down his cheeks as his name echoed around the silent room.
Yuuri took deep and painful breaths. “…L-L-Love you…too.” He smiled one last time before closing his eyes. His arm fell on his side and he grew heavy on the bed.
He took Yuuri’s hand, which was turning cold, in his own and whispered a broken, “Yuuri?”
There was no pulse.
“Yuuri?”
He was not breathing.
“Yuuri!”
He was gone.
“He was waiting for you,” A familiar voice said from behind him. And when he looked over his shoulder, he found Yuuri’s designated caretaker leaning against the doorframe. “We were losing him earlier but he kept on saying your name as if he just remembered it and hung onto it. We figured it’s because you promised him you’ll visit again today.” She sniffed. “He waited until you came before he spared his last breath to tell you how he feels. It’s breath-taking.”
Victor gritted his teeth, leaned his forehead on his husband’s chest and wailed, wailed and wailed until his cries could be heard outside. Until fate becomes guilty. Until the universe cares.
Maybe Yuuri will breathe again.
Maybe a miracle will happen.
None did.
The world of figure skating paid a tribute to Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov by collaborating and making an ice show that told his story to the world.
The ending was Victor and Yurio skating to the middle while holding a framed photo a smiling Yuuri. Because the world deserved to remember Yuuri as someone who inspired them, and not someone who forgot about them.
Tears fell. But nothing could bring him back.