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Yuuri is seven when he first learns about soulmates.
Growing up in Hasetsu everyone knew everyone. Inevitably, your business was everyone else’s as well.
From a young age, he was well acquainted with the pitying looks and empathetic stares. Elders in the town, friends of his parents-- even guests at the inn would spare him such glances. He never understood why though, until he went to school.
It was a customary standard for one to wear a cloth bracelet over the soul mark on their wrist. Afterall, it is one of the most intimate aspects of your identity. One day, not too far into the school year, other children were sitting around and sharing the words on their wrist.
Some were pretty ordinary.
Takeru’s said: “Pardon me, is this your hat?”
Some were, well, beautiful.
Momo’s read: “Your hair is the color of the setting sun, so blinding.”
Others, unfortunately for young Rin, were a tad inappropriate.
The other boy blushed as he turned over his wrist: “Oh fuck that hurt. Thanks a-”
When all eyes turned on Yuuri, he felt like slinking away into the dark depths of the world. When the others poked and prodded he simply offered: “My mother told me it’s bad to share in public.”
Still, Takeru, laughing as he reached forward to uncover Yuuri’s wrist, found an empty expanse of skin.
Markless is what most of society would refer to him as. He was Markless--Not everyone gets a match. Some are destined to be alone. Many wonder if such individuals are broken, having a defect of some sort that encourages mother nature would brand them as ‘undesirable.’
Yuuri went home crying that day.
His mother would lean over, gathering the small boy into her arms, whispering comforting words. She knew the day would come when she would have the explain the significance to her son of the contents--or lack thereof--on his wrist.
His mother reassured him that he was not weird, or broken- merely different. That there were many others out there like him. He would still find love-- after all, not even soulmark could guarantee happy partnerships; Some matched partners didn’t end up together in the end anyway.
Still, Yuuri felt as if that was the first day of the very long, very lonely journey that would become his life.
******
Yuuri’s twelve when he feels his first heartbreak.
His best friend, Yuuko, had recently found her match- Nishigori. Because of him actually. The older boy had picked Yuuri as his new target for teasing. When Yuuko walked over to defend Yuuri, screaming, “You’re the pig, jerk!”, Takeshi, merely stammered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, really.”
They both looked at one another- when realizing the significance of each other’s words. It was love at first sight.
Yuuri was heartbroken because he realized he would never have this. As his best friend found her likely life partner, he might be alone--forever.
*****
Yuuri’s seventeen when he begins to feel the full effect of his status.
He asks one of his cute classmates out. They reject him, with one of those familiar pitying looks:
“Sorry, I can’t. I’m waiting for my soulmate.”
*****
Yuuri’s twenty-two when he learns there might be something wrong with him.
He’s living in America and attending university when he meets Chris. He was out at dinner with Phichit when he was introduced to his soon-to-be mutual friend-- the eccentric, Swiss man.
Inevitably, the topic of relationships and romances comes up. Christ shared photos of his own boyfriend of two years. When Yuuri asks about their ‘meeting’, the other laughs.
“We’re not soulmates.”
Yuuri must look quite confused because Chris continues: “I mean, I’m markless. And he, well, he has met his fated- he chose me instead. They decided when they first met that they worked better as friends anyway.”
Naturally, Yuuri laughs awkwardly at his own ignorance. Phichit throws him an encouraging look-- this must be why he suggested they meet. His best friend must worry about him and wants to show him that even markless people can be happy.
A little bit drunk he wishes Christ goodnight and promises to keep in touch. It’s right then when walking through the biting, cold night winds of Detroit he realizes he is broken.
He can’t hide behind the being markless excuse anymore. He may not have a fated but he’s destined to be alone anyway. Maybe Yuuri was just never meant to find love. Perhaps he was never meant to exist.
******
Yuuri is twenty-three when he visits the hospital.
He is half dead when Phichit finds him. His wrists are no longer bare.
******
Yuuri is twenty-seven when things start to get better.
He moved back briefly to Japan after his ‘incident.’ His parents were, naturally, worried about him. They needed help with the hot spring anyway-- as Mari had started her own life with her respective partner.
He starts pursuing a new dream. He decided to put the past in the past and move forward. He always had an interest in sketching, yet during his four years back home he discovers a new love: architecture.
His parents are worried too. When he announces his plans to return to America. They’re scared he’s going to get worse again. Minako, an old family friend, called the country “The land of Yuuri’s loneliness and despair.” Yuuri doesn’t correct her, but he does wish he could explain that he was lonely and despairing far before his stunt in America. He might have simply been born like that.
Still, with a few carry-on’s he boards the plane, leaving behind his home--once again.
******
Yuuri’s twenty-nine when things change.
Walking down the street, hands in his coat pockets, he admires the grand old buildings of this district. He finally feels content.
He loves his job-- at the premiere architectural firm in the city.
He loves his friends-- Phichit, all the others. Not to mention Chris, who he still remains in contact with, and one of his associates at the firm, JJ. The latter might act like an arsehole half of the time but he’s a good person deep down.
He loves his family-- who have always supported him.
Yuuri is very lucky. He is content with all the loves in his life. He doesn’t know if he will ever be happy,though-- a fact he is alright with. Still, life is good.
He decides to pop into the old grand theatre before reconstruction occurs. It seems the whole city is in a gentrification phase. The old, historic, grand places are being replaced with far newer, futuristic buildings. There are not many places like the Arcadia theatre anymore.
When he steps inside the cozy entryway- his ears are assaulted with the most beautiful sound he thinks he has ever heard.
It’s a haunting, quite melancholy melody.
It strikes Yuuri right in the heart.
He walks through to find a small crowd surrounding a lone musician.
A violinist--with a beautiful head of silvery hair (receding hairline or not) and gorgeous eyes too (a little clouded with something Yuuri can’t quite place his finger on)-- is playing.
Others in the room are whispering fervently the musician's name. It sounds familiar-- he must be fairly famous.
Still, the musician seems lost in his music. Only looking up occasionally as he plays.
Yuuri watches the entire time. At the end of the performance, he waits behind. It’s quite a while until the crowd disperses and the singular figure begins to pack up his instrument.
As for why such a talent is playing in a little, crummy theatre is beyond him. Perhaps the other is an old soul too. Wants to immerse himself in what will soon be a forgotten world.
Yuuri has never been courageous or outspoken. Yet he doesn’t know what possesses him as he stalks over towards the other.
“Your music made me feel like I was not alone anymore. T-Thank you.”
He turns to walk away, embarrassed-- The musician probably doesn’t want some stranger harassing him after a long performance.
It was just a song. Yuuri reminds himself. It doesn’t stop the tears from prickling at the corners of his eyes. Why is he acting like this? He thought he was over this. He’s content.
A warm hand clasps his arm.
The musician’s eyes are searching desperately for Yuuri’s. He’s breathing quite heavily.
A wrist is thrust before his eyes. The black, bold words: You’re music made me feel like I was not alone anymore - are staring back him.
The silver-haired beauty is smiling at Yuuri with tears running down his face.
Yuuri feels like he might be dreaming.
Stuttering he asks, “What...how?”
The other man motions towards his ears and neck- shaking his head with those same sad eyes.
Yuuri understands. He’s deaf and most likely mute.
His soulmate looks down at him, almost reverently. Which Yuuri can’t even begin to understand. Though, when the musician's eyes catch the angry lines that marr Yuuri’s wrist-- the one where a soulmark is supposed to lay-- he drops his hands to his side.
Soon enough he’s captured in what might be the tightest but oh-so-wonderful hug of his life. Yuuri buries his head into the other’s chest.
He understands this too. I’m sorry.
None of it matters though. It might have taken awhile. Felt like an eternity of longing and alienation, but Yuuri is finally not alone. He can tell by the soft intakes of breath from the other that his soulmate feels the same way.
He’s swept away to a nearby seating area. His fated is rummaging through his bags until he finds a notebook and pen. He writes hurriedly into the pad.
Hello. My name is Victor. You have no idea how long I have waited to meet you. Or hoped I would meet you.
Yuuri smiles softly as he takes the pad and writes himself.
Hello, Victor. My name is Yuuri. And I had never thought I’d hear those words.
******
It’s that same age of twenty-nine when the rest of Yuuri’s life begins.