Chapter Text
Phichit lowered his phone and asked, one last time, “Are you sure you want to do this, Yuuri?”
“Yes.” The two were in Yuuri’s hotel room, coming off of a gold and bronze medal finish at Four Continents. Yuuri’s skin still prickled at the farce of a press conference after the free skate. Sitting in the center, he expected to field questions about his catastrophe of a free skate at the GPF, or even about his flawless performances at Nationals two weeks later—his swan song—but instead, Yuuri found himself accosted on all sides with questions about his relationship with Viktor Nikiforov.
Did Nikiforov-san’s influence help Katsuki-senshu get back in the groove after the GPF?
Was he concerned about Nikiforov-san skipping the exhibition skate after Russian Nationals in order to fly to Nagano to see him?
Were he and Nikiforov-san dating?
How have Katuski-senshu and Nikiforov-san managed to keep their relationship secret? Were they deliberately avoiding the press, as they had never appeared on camera together before or during the GPF?
Did the smaller gap in points between Nikiforov-san and Giacometti-san at Europeans have anything to do with Nikiforov-san’s connection to Japan’s Ace?
Was Katsuki-senshu deliberately sabotaging Nikiforov-san before Worlds?
Was Katsuki-senshu attempting to sleep his way to higher standing in the figure skating world?
Had Katsuki-senshu also considered that Nikiforov-san might be using him for inspiration the way he was rumored to with all of his short-lived romantic relationships?
Yuuri remembered the small hitch in his breath, then the complete lack of oxygen as he weakly turned to Phichit and whispered, “Is that what people really think about it?” This was all the warning Phichit and the reporters had before Yuuri said, “No comment!” too closely to the microphone and rushed out. Phichit followed on his heels, caught him and guided him to a private space where Yuuri could succumb to the panic attack.
Over six weeks had passed since Viktor showed up, unannounced and unwanted, at Japanese Nationals. Over eight weeks had passed since the Grand Prix Final, and the twelve empty hours of memory that were a banquet no one else could forget. Over eight weeks, over two months since Viktor had gotten his number and started texting him nonstop. Over eight weeks had passed since Yuuri planned what should have been his fifth, and first successful, suicide attempt. Viktor Nikiforov had ruined that, and Yuuri still wasn’t sure if he was grateful or pissed off.
Somewhere in the liminal haze of post-panic attack, Yuuri realized that, no matter how frustrated or angry he still felt with Viktor for showing up and disrupting his life, the older man had done what was right. Yuuri’s anger redirected at the paparazzi, the gossip rags who had spent the past six weeks speculating about the imagined relationship. There were positive spins, all branded as a senpai-noticed-me story, and Yuuri couldn’t help but cringe at the way these fictions seemed to rely on yaoi tropes in order to appeal to a market audience. The less-than-favorable stories ranged from casting Yuuri as a status slut/saboteur to the victim of another one of Viktor Nikiforov’s endless string of meaningless sexual dalliances. He was either the femme fatale or the damsel in distress. Either way, he was emasculated, which scratched against the inside of his mind, filled him with the litany of not-good-enough not-strong-enough not-sexual-enough not-straight-enough-to-pass not-gay-enough-for-pride not-good-enough not-good-enough not-wanted not-needed not-desired not-loved. Once Yuuri could dial his panic down to a five, he came to a decision.
Phichit propped his phone, centering Yuuri in the camera. Yuuri sat on the hotel room’s standard armchair, standard lamp light illuminating his face. His grey hoodie pooled around his upper body; his blue glasses reflected the image of the phone. In his lap, he held a folder, one he’d packed on instinct before flying out from Detroit for the competition.
“Last chance,” Phichit warned. Yuuri swallowed and nodded his head. Phichit pressed record, then jumped into the screen with Yuuri, propping himself on the arm of the chair.
“Hi, Instagram!” Phichit shouted. “I’m here with current Four Continents Champion, Japan’s Katsuki Yuuri! And I’m the beautiful bronze medalist from Bangkok, Phichit Chulanont!”
“Phichit-kun, I think your followers know who you are by now.”
Phichit ruffled his roommate’s hair. “They know you, too, Yuuri. Half my followers only follow me because they’re thirsty for Yuuri content.”
Yuuri shoved Phichit gently with his elbow. “Not likely.” He fluffed his own hair back into a messy-but-clean style.
“Earlier today, Yuuri and I were kind of annoyed by some of the questions we were asked by the press.”
“Annoyed is an understatement. I had a panic attack. Phichit helped me get it under control, but it wouldn’t have happened if the reporters hadn’t acted that way. I’m not annoyed. I’m angry.”
“Yes, let me clarify: I’m pissed. Anyway, viewers, Yuuri asked me if I could help him to make a statement, but he didn’t want the press to get their hands on it and twist it around, so we decided to go live here. Yuuri would do it on his own account, but…”
“We all know that I only use my account to lurk and follow other people, and that the only people who follow me are Phichit, Yuuko-chan, my sister and my ballet instructor from Hasetsu.”
“Which is why we’re here! Hi! So, Yuuri, you can stop at any time, but I know that you really want to get this off your chest. Are you ready?”
Yuuri took a deep breath, held it for a count of five, let it go. “Yeah.” He opened the folder in his lap. “Okay, so a lot of people know that I did really poorly at my first Grand Prix Final. They also know that Viktor skipped the exhibition skate at Russian Nationals in order to leave immediately after his press conference and fly to Nagano to speak with me after the free skate in my own Nationals. Since then, there’s been a lot of gossip and speculation. I was ignoring it, but the press has been fixated on reading into events that haven’t even happened, so I’m going to set everyone straight.
“Viktor didn’t come on some giant international booty call. He didn’t come on some whim of fancy, either. He didn’t come because I asked him to. He came because he felt that—no, he probably knew that if he didn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now.
Yuuri paused, took a breath. “Viktor came to Nagano because I texted him that I was going to kill myself after my exhibition skate.” He let a small tremor run through his body, before holding up the folder. “These are the results of my comprehensive psychological evaluation that was done in August of 2012. I was nineteen. I’m just,” Yuuri’s voice hitched, but he steadied himself. “I’m going to read some of this, just the overview. It’s actually like twelve pages long.
“Okay. Um. Here goes. Patient Yuuri Katsuki, 19, was admitted to our care on August 3, 2012 after what he self-reports to be a fourth suicide attempt, though only two prior attempts are shown on his record. Having previously been diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder, Katsuki is at high risk for continued suicidal thoughts and actions. When pressed, Katsuki admits to a history of self-harm, both through self-mutilation and dangerous eating practices including binge eating, purging and starvation.”
Next to Yuuri, Phichit flinched, but said nothing. Yuuri placed a hand on Phichit’s shoulder, his touch light and tentative. Then the softness of the moment pulled away with the softness of his hand going back to the folder. “Sorry. Um. Dangerous eating practices. Right. There it is. Dangerous eating practices including binge eating, purging and starvation. After three weeks in our care, patient Katsuki has seen remarkable improvement in mood and self-esteem as a result of group therapy, cognitive behavioral therapy and rigorous drug therapy. Katsuki has responded positively to a balance of selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors and mood stabilizers, which leads our team to believe his initial diagnosis is incorrect.
“Based on Katsuki’s intake survey and our team’s observations, it is our recommendation that Katsuki is better diagnosed with Bipolar II Disorder and that the diagnosis of Major Depressive Disorder be removed. The diagnosis of Generalized Anxiety Disorder remains. Katsuki is characteristic of Bipolar II as he suffers from long, deep depressions with occasional hypomanic episodes wherein he is able to produce great amounts of work in his field of figure skating, teaching himself new jumps or designing his own choreography, but which also come with increased suicidal ideation. By Katsuki’s own confession, each of his prior attempts have been made during a hypomanic phase. Additionally, Katsuki concedes that he has not previously sought help for his eating habits, which lead to an additional diagnosis of bulimia nervosa, common within performance based careers. Katsuki is more at risk for risk-based behavioral problems, including potential drug and alcohol abuse or adrenaline-spiking activities. People with similar diagnoses are more than forty times more likely to attempt suicide than their peers, which is why we recommend an aggressive course of CBT and continued pharmacological treatment.”
Yuuri closed the folder and looked into the camera. “Um, sorry, I know that it’s, well, I know it’s heavy stuff. I don’t, um. I don’t really do well in public most of the time, that’s the anxiety part of it. And I, um. I don’t really think I have a lot of fans, I mean, why would a dime-a-dozen skater like me have fans, right? But Phichit and Celestino and even Viktor have all been reminding me a lot lately that I’m pretty highly ranked right now, and I guess I lucked out here at 4CC, but I don’t think I really deserve any fans. I mean, sometimes it’ll be the day before a competition, and I’ll lie awake in bed all night long panicking over whether or not I’m going to let everyone down. And I would rather die than let my family down, or let my country down, or let my fans down. Which is I guess what I was thinking when I decided to kill myself in December. I wanted to perform the best that I possibly could to redeem myself from the GPF and then erase the possibility of future failure. I, um. I know that it’s not healthy to think that way, so I’m really sorry. I’m really, really sorry for being such a disappointment to you all anyway. You’d probably rather have me be a total jerk than this stupid mess that I am.
“People have always considered me standoffish or rude at competitions. I don’t interact with other skaters very much. I dodge reporters better than anyone. No one is able to say they know anything about me, and that’s because I’m always terrified that people are going to find out about my disorders. I hate being labeled like that, disordered. But I mean, I have disorders. What else can I do? When I told Viktor about it, and I didn’t even give him the full details like I did just now, I just told him I’m bipolar, he told me that I was really brave. That skating with my disorders is like skating without a leg, or skating while going through chemo, or skating without a sense of hearing. But I don’t think it’s fair to make excuses. I mean, it’s all in my mind. I know that it’s all in my mind. I know that I’m mentally weak.
“So I don’t really care what people say or think about me, except that I care a lot. What I mean to say is that, whatever insult you can think up for me, I’ll probably agree with you full-force. But what’s pissing me off enough to take my deepest secrets and throw them on the internet when I’ve made like fifty percent of my career about keeping my life private is the way people are dragging Viktor into this.
“It’s no secret that I’m a fan of Viktor. I mean, who isn’t a fan of Viktor? But I had a major breakdown during the GPF when I found out that my dog died, and between a couple extra Xanax and a few too many flutes of champagne, there’s a night I can’t remember, and Viktor took care of me in my grief. I don’t know when we traded numbers, but he started texting me, a lot. I didn’t reply for the longest time. Here, I know, I’ll just.” Yuuri fumbled his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, pulling out his phone. “Sorry, Viktor, I should probably have asked first. I’m just going to read a couple of his text messages.
“From Vitya Heart Heart Heart XO, December 14th: Hi, Yuuri! I hope you’re feeling better now that it’s been a few days. I know I had the worst hangover a couple of days ago. Anyway, did you go straight to Japan for Nationals or did you go back to Detroit first? Inquiring minds.
“From Vitya Heart Heart Heart XO, December 15th: Hi, Yuuri! I thought maybe since you’ve been traveling, you might not have seen my text yesterday yet. I hope you’re doing okay. I got to see Makkachin today, and I remembered what you told me about your dog, and I cried. I’ll bring Makka with me to Worlds, if you want, so you can have nonstop access to poodle cuddles!
“From Vitya Heart Heart Heart XO, December 18th: Yuuri, are you okay? I had so much fun dancing with you, and I can’t stop thinking about your dog. I’m sure that he’s watching out for you right now, okay? Let me know how you’re doing, pretty pretty please. Inquiring minds want to know!
“From Vitya Heart Heart Heart XO, December 20th: Yuuri, I don’t want to be presumptuous, but are you avoiding me because you’re embarrassed about getting drunk? I know it’s not like you to drink that much (I checked with Chris, sorry, I probably seem like a creep), but I don’t blame you for getting drunk at all. If Makka had died in the middle of the GPF, I would have withdrawn. It’s amazing that you had the strength to skate that day.
“From Vitya Heart Heart Heart XO, December 20th: Plus, Drunk Yuuri was very endearing. Chris sent me pictures of us, and I made one my lock screen.
“From Vitya Heart Heart Heart XO, December 21st: I know this really isn’t my place to say anything, but I know that I definitely have your right number. And if you were just ignoring me, I’d probably drop it, but I saw your friend Phichit’s post and I’m a little worried. He seemed really concerned about you. And those plastic-wrapped cakes looked like they tasted awful. Piroshkis make better comfort food, but I doubt you can find them in Detroit like you can in Saint Petersburg. Maybe I’ll bring you one to Worlds? Anyway, are you okay?
“From Vitya Heart Heart Heart XO, December 24th: Yuuri, will you watch my SP tonight?
“From Me, December 25th: Happy Birthday
“From Vitya Heart Heart Heart XO, December 25th: OMG OMG YUURI YUURI YUURI!!!! YOU REMEMBERED MY BIRTHDAY THANK YOU!!! AND YOU FINALLY REPLIED!!!! I’ll be watching your SP live stream tonight, good luck!!! <3
“From Vitya Heart Heart Heart XO, December 25th: Wow, Yuuri, wow. That was so beautiful. Flawless. Did you best your personal by fifteen points? Wow. I can’t wait to see it at Worlds. But I’m still worried, you look so unhappy every time you’re in camera. Are you okay? Please let me know.
“From Vitya Heart Heart Heart XO, December 26th: Yuuuuuuuuri, will you watch my FS? I know it might sound odd, but I want to dedicate it this time to you.
“From Me, December 26th: Dear ‘Vitya Heart Heart Heart XO,’ whom I have determined to be Viktor Nikiforov. I’m sorry. I don’t remember the banquet night. Part of me wishes I did, because you’ve been my idol since you were in juniors, but the rest of me is glad I don’t for the same reason. Anyway, I’m sorry. You’re probably the only person except Phichit who’s reached out to me more than once in the past week to see how I’m doing, and you don’t even know me. And I’ve ignored you. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to say this, but these Nationals are meant to be my swan song. I’m not completing the season, Viktor. I’m going to kill myself once this competition is over. It’s something I’ve been planning since the GPF, and I’m not going to back out of it. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but there’s really nothing you can do from Moscow, and I don’t want you to waste a dedication on me when I’ll be dead in two days anyway. Since they’ll probably check my phone when they find my body, I should tell you that I want any extra money after Ciao-Ciao gets paid to go toward any LGBT rights advocacy group in Japan. You can pick which one.”
Yuuri locked his phone and placed it on his lap. “So Viktor got that text right after he got off the ice from his free skate at Nationals. He told me that he only stayed through the medal ceremony and press conference because the quickest flight route he could find to Nagano wouldn’t leave until later that night. Anyway, eighteen hours later, I was about to leave the rink from winning my third national gold when Viktor showed up. I guess to outsiders, it looked like some kind of weird, romantic thing. But it definitely wasn’t. Viktor was desperate, told me he wouldn’t leave my side until I promised not to kill myself. As if me dying would completely upset the balance of the universe instead of being completely inconsequential. He didn’t go away. The second night, the night after the exhibition, he had to physically wrestle me to the ground to keep me from hurting myself, which was scary for both of us, because he’s a lot bigger than me, but I had—I shouldn’t get into specifics, should I? No... Sorry. He stayed with me for the next week, including flying with me and Celestino back to Detroit. Even then, he wouldn’t let me off the hook, and it wasn’t until I’d agreed to spend a little time in-patient to work on re-stabilizing my meds that he returned to Saint Petersburg. The last time I saw him was when he came with Celestino and Phichit to drop me off at Detroit General.
“The first three times I tried to kill myself, my dog saved my life. The fourth time, it was Celestino-sensei. The fifth time, it was Viktor. Viktor Nikiforov saved my life, and until today, I was still mad at him about that. But right now, I’m just pissed that someone would dare accuse him of messing with me like a one-night stand. I may be sick, I may be the person who needs saving, and I may really hate that about myself. But Viktor Nikiforov is a hero, so stop insulting him when you don’t know anything.”
By the time Yuuri finished his speech, he was starting to hyperventilate. The weight of what he’d just done, confessing everything, even his eating disorder that Phichit didn’t know about, crashed over him, and before he could even signal to shut off the live stream, he was back in a panic attack.
“Yuuri?” Phichit noticed almost immediately. “Yuuri, breathe. That’s right. Hey. Five senses. Can you do that? What do you see?”
Yuuri pulled in a terse breath before saying, “I see Phichit. My hands. The phone. God, the phone, Phichit, stop recording. Fuck, Phichit, what did I just do? What did I do? Can’t breathe.” The last image that Phichit’s viewers saw was Yuuri curling up into himself, hands clutched in his own hair, and Phichit diving for the phone to end the live stream.
Phichit locked his phone and waited for Yuuri's breathing to even out. “Yuuri. Self harm? Bulimia? That’s so dangerous, what are you—I mean.” He stopped himself and took a breath. “I didn’t know about that, any of that. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Yuuri looked up at Phichit from the chair, then looked toward the ground. Even sitting, his body twitched with nervous energy. “I thought it wouldn’t… I didn’t think it would be... I’m sorry, Phichit-kun, you deserve better.”
Phichit sighed and tossed himself onto Yuuri’s bed. “I’m not mad, and I couldn’t possibly deserve a better friend. You’re my bestie, Yuuri; don’t forget it.”
“Okay,” Yuuri said, eyes still trained on the floor. A minute of silence passed between them before he got up from the chair and joined Phichit on the bed. He stared at the ceiling. “I, um, I’ve never really talked about this stuff outside of therapy. It’s been, well, I mean... I haven’t cut in like three years. And I mean, well, I guess it’s been a relapse with the other thing, but I’m working on it, I swear.”
Phichit curled his body around his best friend. With his ear pressed to Yuuri’s chest, he could feel the heartbeat as strongly as he could hear it. “I can help, you know.”
“I already put too much on you. It’s not fair to you to make you play babysitter with someone who’s three years older anyway.”
“It’s not fair to me when you hide the relapse in the eating disorder that you never told me you had when I’m supposed to be a corner of your support system. It’s also not fair that you have to go through this stuff at all. Can you trust me more, Yuuri? Please?”
“I—I can try.”
“Good, because the most unfair of all would be losing you.”
(This live stream has ended. Video will be available shortly.)
View all 1,308 Comments
@chulanope17 I’ve never seen something so heartbreaking in my life. Phichit, Yuuri, I love you both so much!
@yuurikunganbatte I always said he had to have some kind of anxiety disorder. I mean, watching him on screen is so much like watching the inside of my own head. Is it weird that, even though I know other people have anxiety and depression, this is the first time I’ve ever really felt like somebody gets it?
@vikinikilover95 Somehow Viktor just gets better? Like, we all knew he was a good person, but this? #truefriendship #maybelove #ishipit
@nikiforovisoverrated @vikinikilover95 if Nikiforov’s so great, why isn’t he commenting here while his new boyfriend spills his guts out?
@y-plisetsky THIS IS RIDICULOUS THERE’S PLENTY OF ROOM FOR TWO YURIS IM SORRY
@icyqueerdiva @vikinikilover95 But can we also talk about how Katsuki is also obvs a great person, too? He wanted his money to go to LGBT rights. Am I the only one who noticed that? #ishipit
@katsukifan09 Holy shit, wow. I remember watching Yuuri’s first major international competition, like, the poor bab was shaking but then he killed it on the ice. I just want to give you a big hug, Yuuri-kun!
@nikiforever I mean, it’s great that he’s opening up about his feelings and all, but he’s still nowhere near the skater that Viktor is #justsaying
@yuurikunganbatte Hey @nikiforever, I don’t think Viktor was thinking much about that when he decided to give a shit, so maybe you could be more like Viktor the person instead of just caring about Viktor the skater, kay?
@tooflyforasitspin I also struggle with bulimia. It’s a nasty disease. Yuuri-kun, you’re my new favorite skater <3 <3
@IceCastleMadonna Phichit, it’s Takeshi on Yuuko’s phone. We’re trying to get through to Yuuri, can you have him call us?
@mila-babe Yuuri, we’ve only met a couple of times, but I know @y-plisetsky really well, and if he’s apologizing, it means he’s really freaking out. He’s been going on and on about your skating for the past year and a half, so please come skate at Worlds and hang out with us!
@JPNSkateOfficialFC Katsuki-kun, please take care of yourself! We love you and can’t wait to see you represent Japan at this year’s World Championships. We’ve always been so proud of all of your skates!