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The rain pounds against the window, thick and loud. Thunder crashes, louder still. Hasetsu is known for summer storms; the resort town isn’t weather-controlled, since it’s on a heritage planet. In fact, it’s so old that the Oracle was only networked in a scant 100 years ago.
Luckily, the AI is online now, ready to play its role.
Yuuri chose to match alone. Some people make a big deal of it: elaborate parties, special ceremonies. Celebrities often receive elaborate news coverage. There are very few places in the galaxy where the Oracle can’t reach, and most people speak to their match on vid within minutes, a day at absolute most.
Love is a streamlined, modern convenience. The oracle knows everything about you and everyone else in the galaxy, and finds you the best choice.
Yuuri taps the simple black band on his wrist, smooths back his messy hair, and presses “Match” on the holodisplay.
What if he’s far away? What if he’s disappointed? Matches aren’t magic, love at first sight. They’re data and science and specifics. You can be rematched, but it’s case-by-case.
Unmatchable, the holodisplay says, stark white on black.
Oh.
Royalty is an outdated, archaic thing. Passing on power through blood is pointless; it makes predictions on genetics alone. The Oracle was founded on metrics, analysis, educated guidance. By the time your education is finished and you’re eligible, the AI can accurately determine the correct job, the ideal lifestyle, the perfect romantic match. The Oracle is so widespread and powerful that it has a galaxy-wide monopoly on those decisions.
That’s why Viktor has always thought that it’s stupid, then, that his family passes control of the Oracle along bloodlines. Complete hypocrisy. Viktor likes surprises and the galaxy doesn’t allow for them anymore.
As well-traveled as he is, the novelty of a real planetary horizon still takes his breath away. Viktor snaps a quick photo of it, since they’re tracking him anyway. What can it hurt? It’s so lovely.
A real wind carries the scent of salt and sea, as Viktor walks the long, paved path from the transit hub to his destination. Yu-topia resort and hot springs looks like something from a drama or a theme park. Viktor’s retainers never like him to be out on heritage planets, since they’re impossible to secure as well as inner-ring.
Thrilled with the novelty of it all, the freedom, Viktor is utterly charmed when he has to pull aside short curtains and slide open a light wooden door to access the entryway.
“Excuse me~” He calls out. There are cubbies with shoes framing the entryway. Viktor wishes he’d had time to research more as he frowns at the raised step. Something about slippers is involved…?
“Welcome!” A woman’s voice calls out from the other room, and a short woman shuffles quickly into sight, bowing. Her short hair is fluffy and cute. Viktor smiles wider. “Very sorry, we weren’t expecting guests this afternoon. Are you in need of a room? Or, onsen only?”
A room. If they don’t catch him by nightfall, he’ll certainly need one.
“A room, please, yes. I’m also looking for a person? Katsuki Yuuri.”
“Aaa, are you a friend of Yuuri’s? He’s at the rink right now.”
Viktor hands over his diamond credit chip. “Wonderful! Do you have coordinates for that?”
It’s still dangerous, ice sculpting, even with all the modern safety features. Yuuri has had his share of falls. He makes sure to double-check the readouts on his skates each time, so that when he performs his jumps the ice will deploy from the toe properly.
Yuuri builds up speed for a quad spiral, and the joy and pride he feels as a flawless, crystalline curl of ice forms beneath his feet is the reason he devotes so much of his time to this ancient sport. The rink is always littered with the delicate structures when he’s done; the remains of his jumps sculpted in ice. Ever since he was small, watching ice sculptors on the TV, this has been his sole focus.
His landing is a little wobbly, though, because someone starts clapping.
“Wow! Amazing!!”
The rink is closed to the public on Fridays. The voice isn’t Nishigori or Yuuko. Yuuri blinks as he slides into an abrupt stop. Is this a dream? A holo-trick? The most handsome man in the galaxy is standing at the edge of the rink with bright eyes.
“Viktor!?” His first instinct is to skate away. Viktor was just featured on the net as Galaxy’s Most Handsome Man, but most importantly in Yuuri’s book he is the greatest ice sculptor of all time. Yuuri’s had a crush on the rich heir for approximately forever.
“Ah, so you do know me,” Viktor says, making to jump over the rink wall. Yuuri hurries over before the skateless man can hurt himself. “That makes things easier. Your mother said you would be here.”
His mother. “I, um.” Yuuri looks around. “There has to be a hidden camera somewhere.”
“I certainly hope not. I’m sure I disabled just about all of them.” Viktor’s smile is sharp.
“Why are you here?” Yuuri feels dizzy.
”For you, of course,” Viktor says, but his gaze is assessing. “I wanted to meet who the Oracle thinks I shouldn’t.”
“Aren’t you getting matched tomorrow?” Yuuri blurts, then covers his mouth. That was too revealing.
“So you are all caught up to speed. That makes things much easier. Yuuri, it’s nice to meet you. You are unquestionably my match.”
“That’s impossible,” Yuuri says, voice going flat. “I don’t have one.” It’s just a fact and it doesn’t hurt.
“Ah, That’s probably my fault. Sorry about that.” Viktor leans forward and catches Yuuri’s cold hands in his own warm ones. “As you know, I’m supposed to be rather publically matched tomorrow. It will be to a rich heir of King Industries.”
Yuuri would pinch himself to check if he’s dreaming, but his hands are occupied.
“I did some digging. You know, you’re a very hard person to find in the system? In your very own category, in fact, held separately from anyone else in the galaxy. Just so I wouldn’t find you. Well, here I am!” Viktor winks and leans in closer. “And I want to know everything about you.”
Yuuri’s in ratty old athletic gear. He’s sweaty and exhausted.
He won’t let this chance slip through his fingers. Yuuri leans in too, until they’re forehead to forehead, until he can hear Viktor’s shocked little inhale. He swallows. “Okay.”
As a teen, one of Yuuri’s recurring embarrassing dreams had been that Viktor Nikiforov, through some twist of fate, was his match. As an unmatchable adult, it was something he tried not to think about at all. Even so, he hadn’t seen the criticism coming.
“That landing was so sloppy, I’m surprised you didn’t fall over entirely.” Viktor says. He’s been smiling and nodding at every bemused native they pass. Even people on a backwater planet know who Viktor Nikiforov is, and they are staring.
“Mmm.” Yuuri makes that landing a respectable 80% of the time. He bites back you shouldn’t have distracted me mid-jump and instead chooses to focus on the warmth of Viktor’s hand. He’s never held someone’s hand. It’s warm and just slightly larger than his own.
The sky is darkening as a storm moves in.
“Are you, um,” Yuuri begins. Are you going to be staying here? Aren’t you supposed to be matching with Jean Jacques Leroy in the morning? Are you sure you didn’t make a mistake? “...hungry?” He continues, lamely. Yuuri has an odd flash of taking Viktor home and sitting down for his mother’s Katsudon. His heart beats faster.
“Yes! Yuuri, show me your favorite food.” When Viktor smiles, his grin is heart-shaped. It’s cute.
“Follow me.” He leads Viktor home.
Viktor’s a few bites away from demolishing his bowl of katsudon when the first flash of lightning spikes across the sky. The thunder, racing out after the flash, makes Viktor flinch.
“We don’t, um. Have weather control here.” Yuuri is suddenly embarrassed for his backwards little planet. “It’s just a thunderstorm.”
“I’ve never been in a real one before.” Viktor lives on Centauri, the brightest jewel on the inner ring of planets: elite, carefully-managed, fashionable and thoroughly civilized.
“How’s this going to work?” Yuuri asks, gesturing between them.
Viktor sets down his chopsticks. “My people will be looking for me, and I don’t imagine it’ll take them long. They’re not going to be very happy.”
“About me, you mean.” Yuuri says, glum.
“Well, that too.” Viktor pats him on the hand. “Also that I left for an outer-ring planet in the night before a big company event without letting anyone know.”
“You didn’t tell them!?” Yuuri’s heart rate speeds up. What if they think I kidnapped him, he thinks, absurdly.
“They have the best interests of the Oracle and our company at heart. It’s so critical to the way the galaxy functions, and they will all want me to match with the same person that it will declare tomorrow.”
Yuuri can imagine it easily. The rich and powerful will descend upon this sleepy little town and tear it apart to get at Viktor. “Do you have a plan?”
Viktor tilts Yuuri’s chin up so they’re looking eye to eye. “It’s been great to meet you, Yuuri. I can see why the system didn’t want us to meet, because connections or not I am very interested in you, and your little town with its thunderstorms.”
Something rises up inside Yuuri, fierce. “What are we going to do?”
Viktor’s eyes seem to sparkle. “I’m going to give up my blood-claim to the Oracle. It’s technically possible, although no one in my family has ever wanted to let go of the power and fortune. Afterwards, I won’t be quite so much of a catch. Everything I have is owned by the company. Will you take me if I’m creditless, Yuuri?”
For my true match I’d move the world. Yuuri leans in until they’re nose to nose. “Of course. But I think I know a better way.”
The media finds them before Galactech does, which is impressive in its own way. They swirl like vultures, mini drones flying over the streets of Hasetsu for a glimpse of the rogue heir. Pre-matchday jitters? Get the inside scoop on Nikiforov’s grand romp across the galaxy!
Yuuri’s happy, because he was counting on that.
Viktor had been so delighted after hearing the plan, he’d picked Yuuri up and spun him around in circles, laughing into his ear. Yuuri’s family went along with it happily too; Mari had to sneak out and buy the rings.
Hasetsu itself is in a cultural preservation area, where certain archaic things are still possible. Thunderstorms. Replica ancient passenger trains. Marriage by choice.
They wait until the media is in a frenzy, ready to burst through the gate to the inn, before stepping out hand-in-hand. Yuuri fits into his father’s wedding kimono, even though the sleeves are a bit long and it’s a little dusty. Viktor only arrived with the clothes on his back, his diamond credit chip allowed the purchase of a sleek new starsilk suit in gleaming white.
There’s a moment of shocked silence before the questions pour out, hard and fast.
“Mr. Nikiforov, is it true you’re refusing to be matched by your own company’s products?”
“Can you verify the rumors that you were kidnapped and held against your will?”
Yuuri is a little annoyed that they’re ignoring him. He lifts up his chin and meets Viktor’s eyes. They hold up their rings together, golden bands shining in the bright sunlight. This is being live-cast on vid to more than half the galaxy. Just try and take him, he thinks, just try. Half the galaxy will see your filthy maneuvering.
“I came here to marry my match. I peeked a little early, you see!” Viktor winks. “He’s lovely, don’t you think? An ice sculptor just like me.”
Yuuri stands taller. “We found each other the old-fashioned way.” It isn’t quite the truth, but it’s so romantic that the PR backlash if the company tried to break them up would be awful.
Viktor kisses him on the cheek and squeezes Yuuri to his side.