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Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Viktor was everything Yuuri had wanted to be for so long. He was graceful and enchanting on the ice. He was kind and charismatic off of it. Yuuri poured over every single clip he could find of Viktor, watching and rewatching anything available on Youtube, reading transcripts of interviews posted on forums, just learning as much as he could about his idol. Viktor had him enamoured ever since he was nine, and had just watched Viktor’s astounding Junior debut. Every night for the three years since then, Yuuri could be found at the rink, practising in solitude.

He watched Viktor’s routines and practised them religiously, often through the night. Even after Yuuko had long gone home, and the rink was well past its closing time, Yuuri danced on the ice, unwilling to give up until he was satisfied with his imitation of Viktor’s programme. He knew he would never achieve the resounding brilliance of Viktor’s routines. He knew he wasn’t able to keep the audience’s eyes on him the way Viktor could. But he practised all the same, hoping that maybe, one day, his skating would be enough to lead him to meet his idol.

As he stared at the poster on his wall before going to bed, he thought to himself with steely determination. This season was his international junior debut, and he had to perform well if he wanted to be good enough to meet Viktor one day. He had surprised everyone at nationals earlier that season. No one would’ve guessed that the quiet, chubby child with large eyes behind larger spectacle frames and a ballet instructor as a coach would’ve outperformed everyone else.

Of course, even though the victory had felt good, and Yuuri’s gold medal hung proudly on his wall under the poster, he knew that the Junior Grand Prix would be a tougher challenge to face. But he was determined. It was something Yuuri had to overcome if he ever wanted to meet Viktor. So, he swallowed his fears and snuggled into the pillow, flitting into dreams of meeting his hero, of skating his best in front of thousands.

His hand gripped Minako Sensie’s tightly as his head whipped around in excitement. Yuuri had never travelled abroad before, and as terrified as he was of competing in his first international competition, the exhilaration and sense of adventure outweighed his anxieties. Europe was nothing like he had ever seen before, with its cobblestone roads and grand architecture. It didn’t help that they were in a city, and the loud, bustling nature of the busy streets were so unlike the quiet lanes of Hasetsu. Nonetheless, it was still all very new and exciting to Yuuri, though he didn’t dare let go of Minako’s hand. 

Despite the novelty of it all, Yuuri found solace in the fact that ice was generally the same around the world. The rink might be larger and more intimidating, and the ice may not be the quality he was used to skating on back at Ice Castle, but it takes a relatively short time to get used to it, and when Yuuri closed his eyes, he could almost imagine it was as if he was back at his home rink, skating for Yuuko and no one else.

As he laced his skates in preparation for the first event, he felt like throwing up. His mind was a mess of emotions, ranging from ecstatic to dreading. He was simultaneously excited and afraid. Excited for the world to see him skate, to see his hard work and effort displayed so proudly. He might be humble, but he wasn’t delusional. He knew he was a good skater - he had to be in order to win nationals. Though, he also knew that there were skaters much more advanced than he was, already doing quads and triplets he had yet to master.

But he wasn’t afraid of losing out to the older skaters. He was afraid that he’d lose himself to his anxieties and freeze out on the ice. That during his moment to shine he would find himself unable to, that his work and hours poured into skating would flub right when he needed it the most.

He shook his head, pulling tighter on his laces. He wouldn’t think about that. He was going to do the thing he loved most, and he was going to wow the audience and take a medal home. And he absolutely couldn’t wait. 

His exhilaration and excitement carried him through the events, and soon, he found himself standing on the bronze podium, beaming at Minako who was yelling her support from outside the rink. He felt like he was flying. The pride and happiness that usually came after he landed a tough jump made his entire being flood with joy as he held his medal. It didn’t matter that he stood on the lowest podium, it didn’t matter that he didn’t have a single quad in his routine. Nothing could’ve brought him down from his high.

That feeling of exhilaration only returned tenfold when he stood on the podium at his second qualifying event, silver gleaming in his hands. He had qualified for the finals, and he was trembling with excitement. 

Viktor Nikiforov would be there. Yuuri would get to see him, in the flesh, and express how much he meant to him. He often thought about what he would say, playing over imaginary scenarios in his head when he finally met his idol. Even though Viktor was already in Seniors, the finals would take place at the same location, so Yuuri had a very real possibility of meeting him there. 

Yuuri wondered what he should say.

Quebec was cold. As a skater, Yuuri was no foreigner to the cold, but Quebec was cold . He shivered, pulling his jacket closer as he made his way to the rink. This was his time, his junior debut, the single most defining moment of his career (to him at that moment).

Before stepping onto the ice, Yuuri took a deep breath in. Focusing on the inhale, Yuuri let his thoughts and anxieties go, clearing his head. He wouldn’t think about what would happen if he screwed up, wouldn’t compare his lack of quads to the other skaters, and he most definitely wouldn’t think of the fact that Viktor had won gold on his junior debut. 

Yuuri did, however, recall how taken away he was when he first saw Viktor skate. How his body moved as if the music were made for him and not the other way around, how he took Yuuri’s breath away and changed his whole world. Yuuri longed to be like that, to win over the hearts of his audience the way Viktor won over his years ago. 

Then, he started to skate.

He clutched his bronze proudly, standing on the tips of his toes out of habit as he waved to Minako. Beside him, he heard Christophe Giacometti laugh.

“You’re tall enough on the podium,” he teased, placing a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. Blushing, Yuuri turned to give him a sheepish smile. He hadn’t meant to steal the moment away from Christophe - he was just used to being too short to spot for most of his life.

Christophe watched his change of demeanour curiously. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Chris. Though, we already know that, don’t we, Yuuri?”

Yuuri summoned what little social skills he had and tried to form a reply in stilted English, hoping Chris would take pity on him and not think he was being rude. “Yes. Congratulations on your gold. Very impressive.”

Chris grinned at him. “Thanks. And to you on your bronze. I don’t think anyone has ever medalled on their debut before. Well, except Viktor, but he doesn’t count.”

“Viktor won gold,” was Yuuri’s reply, though there wasn’t a single figure skater who didn’t already know. “His programme was beautiful.”

“His step sequence and flips and spins were all spectacular,” Chris sighed in agreement. Glancing over at Yuuri, the two of them shared a knowing look. A look that conveyed so much though nothing was said out loud. 

Chris smirked. “I have a limited edition poster of his senior debut,” he bragged.

Yuuri’s eyes widened, even sparkling a little. “Me too!”

The fright of being in such a foreign environment was considerably less when one had a friend with him. Chris took Yuuri under his wing, steering him through the interviews and press afterwards, talking about their shared admiration for Viktor when no one else was listening. Yuuri was disappointed to hear that Chris would be moving up to seniors the following season, but he heaved a sigh of relief to hear that Chris would at least compete at the Junior World Championships this season. 

After the interviews were done and they had changed out of their costumes, Chris split to talk to his coach, leaving Yuuri alone for a moment. They had met at the hotel lobby, agreeing to go to the banquet together, but Chris had some things to discuss with his coach. Yuuri went back to Minako, telling her all about his newest friend. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the silver medalist, Georgi Popovich, walk into the room along with his coach. 

Behind them followed Viktor.

Yuuri’s eyes widened as he caught sight of his silver hair, eyes never leaving his figure as he glided across the room. 

“Congratulations on your gold, Chris.” His voice was smooth and cheerful, and Yuuri looked on with slight jealousy as Chris beamed up at Viktor. 

“Thanks, Viktor! I’ll be stealing yours away from you soon enough,” he joked, and Viktor laughed good naturedly. Chris’ eyes flitted to Yuuri, and he made a gesture with his hand, urging Yuuri to come forward. 

Viktor’s eyes caught the movement, and when he turned around to face Yuuri, Yuuri forgot how to breathe. His stomach lurched, and he felt more nervous than he had before his Free Skate, and he didn’t know what to do.

“Oh, a fan? Would you like a commemorative photo with both gold medalists?” Viktor asked, tilting his head to one side.

Yuuri sucked in a breath, willing his disappointment to disappear and his throat to stop closing up. He was only a junior medalist - Viktor had no reason to know his name. Still, that didn’t stop the heavy fist clenching around his chest, making it hard to breathe. Yuuri had skated and trained and worked so hard to meet Viktor and have him recognise Yuuri as a good skater, a serious competitor. He must’ve watched the Junior GPF if he knew Chris had won, but he mustn’t have looked any lower than the first podium for him not to recognise Yuuri as a skater.

Suddenly, Yuuri felt much warmer than he ever had since the plane touched down. His ears flushed in embarrassment and rage, and his mind was unable to form a single coherent thought. He acted on impulse, a hand reaching up to grasp Minako’s tightly, dragging them away from Viktor and his ignorance.

He might’ve missed the puzzled look on Viktor’s face, the wince etched onto Chris’, and the slightly annoyed sigh from Viktor’s coach, Yakov, but he was too proud to turn around, lest they see the tears start to fall.

“I’m sorry, Chris, I panicked!” Yuuri exclaimed, not looking the other skater in the eye. He was embarrassed at himself for running away earlier, but it seemed like the most reasonable thing to do at the moment. He didn’t want to lose Chris, the first and only friend he’s made aside from Yuuko, but he didn’t know if Chris would let that go.

“It’s ok, Yuuri. I’m sorry your first meeting with Viktor went… like that,” he consoled Yuuri, patting him on the back. “If it is any solace, Yakov and Georgi gave him an earful afterwards. It was in Russian, so I didn’t understand, but Viktor sure looked sorry. It was pretty funny.”

“And now I’ve gotten him into trouble!” Yuuri cried, finally looking up at Chris. “He’ll hate me.”

“He will not.”

“Oh noooooooooooo,” Yuuri sulked, hanging his head. “I’m gonna have to live the rest of my life as a hermit.” 

Chris patted him on the back again. “Would you like to get your mind off it? You just won bronze on your debut, you shouldn’t be whining.”

Yuuri peered at Chris curiously through his glasses. Chris, who held a glass of champagne that he stole from the grown-ups, who was smirking at Yuuri with a devilish glint in his eye. 

“What do you have in mind?” Yuuri asked cautiously.

“Have you ever tried pole dancing?”

“I am honestly, very, very impressed, Yuuri.” Was the first thing Yuuri heard as he woke up the next day, his head hurting worse than the time he plummeted face first into the ice when he tried a quad toe loop. His brain seemed to want to worm its way out of his head through his ears, and Yuuri groaned and smothered himself with his pillow. He only had half a glass of champagne. 

Minako didn’t seem to care about her prized student dying, for she continued. “I couldn’t find you anywhere in the banquet, and when I go looking for you, you’re upside down on a pole doing a very stable inverted straddle, despite being drunk off your mind on two sips of champagne. I can’t even be mad at you.”

Yuuri moaned again, this time as the memories of last night replayed in his head. “Don’t - Don’t send that picture to Mari.”

“Too late,” Minako chirped. “I’ve also sent one to Yuuko. I think your parents have sent it to be printed.”

Yuuri thought about changing coaches when Minako only laughed at his groans of pain.

A couple of months later, Yuuri stood on the podium once again. This time, however, his total score was only three points lower than Chris’, putting him in second. Though Yuuri silently seethed at the close defeat, he was surprised to find himself genuinely happy for Chris as well, giving him a sincere congratulation on the podiums. Chris had been a wonderful friend, willingly taking Yuuri under his wing without Yuuri asking. Yuuri would’ve managed without Chris, but he sure did help. 

“It’s a pity I won’t see you again till I enter the senior division,” Yuuri lamented as they stepped down from the podium. 

“I’m sure I’ll see you there very soon,” Chris replied. “Till then, you’ll just have to snatch up gold whilst you can. Viktor isn’t an easy competitor to beat.”

Yuuri winced at the mention of Viktor’s name. He had long ago forgiven Viktor, believing Chris’ when he said that Viktor felt horrible about it, and that he truly didn’t recognise Yuuri with glasses and his hair down. However, that didn’t erase Yuuri’s instinctive reaction to curl up and die whenever he recalled his first ever encounter with his childhood hero. 

Chris laughed at his reaction, a hand reaching around Yuuri’s shoulders as he steered him to the press room. Chris was a very touchy person, Yuuri realised, but he made no effort to move out of his grasp. Minako had praised Yuuri for his display of sportsmanship toward his competitors, something he had difficulty with before, and he didn’t want to disappoint her. It wasn’t that he suddenly became a gracious loser (he was still very much a sore loser), it was just that Chris was a very likeable person. 

The interviews went by relatively easily, with Yuuri giving short, curt responses and Chris taking up most of the limelight by over sharing. 

Just when Yuuri thought he could retire to his hotel room and knock out till the banquet, he heard a loud, booming voice call out his name. 

Turning around, he saw a large, tall man walk toward him, smiling widely. His hair was messily put in a low bun, and if he didn’t have a lanyard around his neck stating he was with the ISU Yuuri would’ve thought he was homeless. 

“Nice to meet you, Katsuki Yuuri,” he greeted, extending a hand for Yuuri to shake. Yuuri instinctively raised his hand to shake the man’s, looking between him and Minako with uncertainty. His hand was large and rough, swallowing Yuuri’s entire fist in his own. “I’m Celestino Cialdini. I’ve been following you since your debut, and I would like to be your coach.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened and he froze, staring at the man as if he had gone mad. Celestino looked at Yuuri expectantly, but when he got no response, he turned to Minako instead. “I thought he was proficient in English.”

“He is, but you surprised him, that’s all,” Minako replied, speaking on Yuuri’s behalf. “Anyway, so, what are your credentials, Mr Cialdini?”

A gasp escaped Yuuri before he could stop himself, and he turned and gripped Minako’s arm as if she would disappear if he didn’t. “Sensei!”

“Yuuri, you won’t make it very far if you keep me around,” she answered sincerely, crouching down to speak at Yuuri’s height. “You need a real skating coach, not a ballet instructor. And he seems to have taken an interest in you, and it’s a good opportunity.”

Yuuri’s lip quivered as he stared at Celestino warily, though the man seemed understanding of his situation. A comforting smile graced his face, and suddenly, he didn’t seem all that intimidating. “I don’t mean to scare you, Yuuri. It’s just an offer, though I hope you’ll consider. We can discuss this over breakfast tomorrow, if you’re too tired right now?”

Again, Minako replied on his behalf. “That would be nice. Do you have a card? We can keep in touch.”

As Celestino and Minako exchanged contacts, Yuuri stood slightly behind Minako, watching the exchange with concern. He wasn’t sure what being coached by Celestino would entail, but he assumed he would have to stop training at Ice Castle. Yuuri guessed he was from Europe, by the sound of his accent and name. He didn’t want to move to Europe. He didn’t want to leave Minako, or his family, or Vicchan back in Hasetsu. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a head of blonde hair bobbing excitedly, and when he looked over, Chris was there, pointing at Celestino and giving an exaggerated thumbs up. Later that night, after Yuuri helped Chris steal a glass of wine by distracting the waiter, Yuuri asked him how he knew Celestino. 

“My coach speaks to him sometimes,” he replied, letting Yuuri take a sip. “I think he’s good. Besides, if you go to Italy, we can visit each other!”

Chris grinned at Yuuri, eliciting a sincere smile back. Yuuri was going to miss Chris next season. Besides Yuuko, Yuuri didn’t have many true friends he could talk to. He was glad to have Chris around, and hoped that he felt the same. 

And if Chris thinks it’s a good idea to train with Celestino, it can’t be that bad.

Deciding to move to Detroit was the best decision Yuuri had ever made up till that point in his life. To Chris’ disappointment, Celestino lived and trained in America, not Italy, so they were not able to meet up. But Yuuri was glad he took up the offer nonetheless. 

It was definitely hard, leaving his family and Vicchan behind. He had never cried so much than when he was at the airport. Even as he boarded the plane, snot and tears were still running down his face, and more than one concerned flight attendant checked to see if he was alright.

Yuuri did not know it then, but it was all going to be worth it. He got the first inkling of that assuredness when he met Phichit Chulanont for the first time.

The first time they met, Yuuri thought Phichit was high on some sort of drug. He was energetic and bubbly and loud, despite speaking very poor English, and he greeted Yuuri as if they were old friends, though they had not met before in their life. Celestino had explained that Phichit was his other student and that they would be training together before Yuuri had agreed, but what he had failed to mention was that Phichit was the embodiment of a golden retriever, if golden retrievers could hop like bunnies and speak like a machine gun.

Even though Yuuri was shy and generally relied on Celestino to keep their conversation going, Phichit rattled on about how excited he was to train with Yuuri, and how new Detroit was and what a fun adventure it was going to be and how his favourite movie was The King and the Skater and how he would have to make Yuuri watch it and how much he missed Thai food because it just didn’t hit the same in America. 

Yuuri could relate to Phichit. He was much younger than Yuuri was, only ten, but Celestino had scouted him out when he attended his summer camp. Phichit was also alone in a foreign country, so different from home, and he also missed the familiarity and comfort of where he grew up. 

Even though Phichit spoke excitedly about anticipating the ‘American Dream’, and looked forward to experiencing a new way of life, he could tell Phichit missed his home country, much like Yuuri did. He scrunched his nose when they first tried the Thai takeaway down the street, and Yuuri knew the feeling of just wanting some familiar food and having an extremely butchered version of it instead. 

When Phichit noticed Yuuri’s wallpaper was of Vicchan, Phichit squealed and demanded he show him every single picture he had on his phone. In exchange, Phichit showed Yuuri pictures of his hamster back in Thailand, who had sadly passed away the year before. 

Their friendship was solidified when, to Celestino’s horror, Yuuri brought home a hamster cage with two fluffy hamsters inside later that week. Yuuri wished he had caught Phichit’s scream of delight on video.

When Ciao Ciao first met Phichit, he was a lively little boy with big eyes and bigger dreams. He was bubbly and outgoing. Even though he fell on the ice more often than some other skaters, he always laughed and got back up, determination in his eyes as he tried again and again and again. That’s what convinced Ciao Ciao to take him on. He had talent and a passion for skating, and he was sure he could turn the bright eyed young boy into a star.

Ciao Ciao first noticed Yuuri at his Junior debut, and he knew, along with everyone else, that Yuuri was certainly talented. He skated with the grace that so many of his competitors lacked, and as he danced across the ice Ciao Ciao could see him feel the emotions of the music. He lacked the harder jumps that so many other skaters had in their routine, but that could be achieved with practice. When he spoke to him, he was shy and reserved, but extremely polite. He hid behind his coach often, and from what she described, Ciao Ciao was under the impression that Yuuri was a driven, obedient and focused little boy.

He had hoped the two of them would get along. What he didn’t expect, however, was that they caught on like a house on fire. 

And as he heard the clatter of metal against metal coming from his kitchen at eight in the morning, he sighed and reflected on the choices he had made in life that sent him down this path.

Dragging himself out of bed, he braced himself for the mess that would await him at the kitchen. Yuuri always cleaned up after himself, and he was sure this time would be no different, but some things are rather hard to clean. Like a burn mark on his wall or a dent in his favourite cooking pot. 

Ciao Ciao could smell it before he could even see the kitchen. To his surprise, it didn’t smell burnt. But it didn’t necessarily smell good, either.

Phichit was the first to greet him. “Ciao Ciao! We’re making Mala!”

Ciao Ciao groaned as he took in the mess of spices and ingredients scattered all over his kitchen counter. Yuuri stood on a step stool as he stirred the soup on his stove, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he examined his creation.

“Doesn’t smell right,” he muttered to himself.

“You guys made mala for breakfast?” Ciao Ciao asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Phichit replied, not seeing the issue. “Also, do you think Katsulanont or Phichuri sounds better?”

At this rate, Ciao Ciao was going to die of a heart attack, or maybe in a fire which Phichit and Yuuri accidentally started. “...What will it be for?”

“Our joint instagram account!” Phichit supplied. “Since Yuuri is a grandma at technology.”

If Yuuri heard Phichit’s insults, he didn’t react. Instead, he licked the spoon, nose scrunching at the taste. “Phichit, does this taste sweet to you?”

“I like Phichuri?” Ciao Ciao replied, looking over at Yuuri, slightly worried. 

“Wrong answer,” Phichit churped, going over to lick Yuuri’s spoon. “It tastes great! Let’s eat.”

“Why are you guys having mala? Neither of you are from China.”

“It’s not like you only eat pasta and pizza because you’re from Italy, right?”

“Yuuri has a point.”

Ciao Ciao groaned as Yuuri prepared a third bowl.

Despite being such horrible influences on one another, Ciao Ciao was glad that at least they were serious when it came to practice. Most of the time. He turned a blind eye whenever Phichit had a mini-photoshoot, because he knew there was more to life than just skating, and Yuuri always made sure he got back to skating quickly. 

Yuuri’s second season at Juniors was rapidly approaching, and Ciao Ciao knew he wanted to enter the senior division by the next season. He grilled Yuuri harder than he did for Phichit, but if he was upset at the biassed treatment, he didn’t show it. His foundations for jumps were weak, having trained with a ballet instructor instead of an actual coach most of his life, but his step sequences and spins were always close to flawless. It was a tough couple of months in the beginning, where Yuuri had to relearn the foundations of a proper jump, but he worked overtime and soon enough, he was at an acceptable level to be competing with the other, older juniors.

Ciao Ciao had asked both his skaters before on what they would like to achieve through their skating. He knew they were both young, and would probably not have a solid answer. He wasn’t surprised when Phichit shrugged, saying he skated because he liked skating. He was surprised, however, when Yuuri narrowed his eyes, deep in thought, and remained silent for a couple of seconds. 

“I want to be good enough for everyone to know my name,” he eventually decided, looking up at Ciao Ciao with steely determination. It was an odd answer, sure, but Yuuri had looked so devoted to his reason that Ciao Ciao felt compelled to help him make it come true. If Yuuri wanted to be one of the best skaters, and Ciao Ciao had every ounce of faith that he could, he would push his skater as hard as he desired. 

Katsuki Yuuri would be a household name in figure skating by the time he enters the senior division, Ciao Ciao swore to himself.

Chapter Text

@skatingnews

A star on the rise — A new Viktor Nikiforov?

I think I speak for everyone when I say this year’s Junior Grand Prix champion surprised us all. Last year’s bronze and silver medalist, Yuuri Katsuki, astounded audiences and judges alike with his spectacular programme, snatching gold and scoring more than ten points ahead of second place this season. Though he had made a reputation for himself with this debut last year, steadily gaining fans and popularity since then, his performance this year was much more refined. Most people speculate that as a result of his new coach, Celestino Cialdini, who has worked with skaters before. His previous unusual choice of coach was world renowned ballerina, Minako Okukawa , who was an amazing dancer, but notably not a skater. Nonetheless, some people have started drawing comparisons between the rising star and figure skating legend Viktor Nikiforov. Others believe that Viktor is untouchable, and that whilst Japan’s Ace had put on a spectacular performance, it was nothing compared to Nikiforov’s record breaking programme. Read more…

@vktrnkfrv

lol. there’s no way this noob can ever compare to the living legend. he can’t even do a quad??? and we want to compare him to viktor?????

@angelaj

He’s good, sure, but his programme wasn’t that astounding. Christophe Giacometti also won gold last year, and no one really compared him to Viktor?

@xuanxuan920 

Giacometti was 15 last year tho… Yuuri is still 14, and he also did very well last year, and will probably be going to seniors next year. Maybe that’s why they’re drawing comparisons???? 

@chrisevans95

Viktor won gold in his first competition. The japanese boy only got silver, which only goes to show how superior viktor is. 

“You should take it as a compliment,” Phichit had said, glancing at Yuuri’s crestfallen expression. “Being compared to Viktor is like being compared to a god.”

“But I don’t want to be the new Viktor,” Yuuri sulked, scrolling through the comments. “I want to be Katsuki Yuuri.”

Phichit nodded, giving Yuuri a sympathetic pat on his shoulder. “Stop reading it. You just won gold! We should be celebrating!” 

Snatching his phone from his hands, Phichit chucked it carelessly across the room. Thankfully, the floor was carpeted, and Yuuri had a protective case, because that had already happened once before and he learnt a new screen cost way more than a good phone cover

Dragging Yuuri out of bed, Phichit pounded on the connecting door between their and Ciao Ciao’s room. “We’re going sightseeing! We’ll be back for dinner!”

“Wait, let me get ready and follow you two. It’s a dangerous city for two young boys!” Ciao Ciao yelled through the door. 

“Bye Ciao Ciao! See you tonight!”

In the elevator, Phichit took a selfie with Yuuri, posting it on the account they share. As he thought of a caption to type, the elevator came to a halt. 

Yuuri stiffened as Viktor Nikiforov walked in, eyes widening as they fell on him. His long hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, a few strands falling forward to frame his face. He was tall, much taller than Yuuri was, and so, very pretty. His eyes were startlingly blue, something Yuuri thought he knew but apparently he didn’t. 

Because unlike his posters, which were still and lifeless, a single frame immortalised forever, Viktor was right in front of him and very much real. His eyes never strayed from Yuuri, and he couldn’t bring himself to break their gaze. Print and ink could never compete with the true deep, electric blue hues of his eyes. 

The last time Yuuri looked up at Viktor, his own eyes had been damp with unshed tears. This time, he could truly soak in the weight of Viktor’s gaze. 

When Yuuri finally tore his eyes away from Viktor’s, he realised something was wrong. His usually bubbly smile was missing, and the intensity of his gaze made Yuuri want to shrink into himself to hide. It was only worsened by Viktor’s slow steps, and Chris’ uncharacteristic silence behind him. 

“Yuuri Katsuki?” Yuuri startled a little at the sound of his own name from Viktor’s lips. It felt… strange. Not exactly unwelcome, but unexpected. “Congratulations on gold today.”

Viktor sounded cautious, watching Yuuri’s reactions as he chose his words carefully. Yuuri gave him a nod, too stunned to speak, but he felt Phichit nudge him to say more. “Uh… thanks.”

“I’m so proud of you, Yuuri!” Chris cooed, breaking the tension. As he enveloped Yuuri in a tight hug, Yuuri felt a little nostalgic at the familiarity of Chris’ friendship. “You were wonderful! I can’t wait to compete against you next year!”

Yuuri smiled, arms tightening around Chris as he thanked him for his kind words. He was still acutely aware of Viktor at the corner of the lift - how could he not be - and Phichit taking another selfie with the four of them in the opposite corner. 

“You guys wanna grab dinner with us?” Chris asked, gesturing at Viktor. Yuuri’s eyes widened as he froze, and his discomfort must’ve been palpable as Viktor flinched and Chris’ smile became a little more forced. 

Phichit, however, was a godsend. “Sorry guys, we’re actually supposed to meet our coach in the lobby.”

Phichit was the bestest friend ever. 

“It’s alright,” Chris replied. “I’m Chris, by the way. And this is Viktor, but you probably already knew that.”

“I’m Phichit,” Phichit introduced. “I’m not old enough to make my junior debut, but I’m gonna kick ass once I do.”

Chris laughed, and even Viktor chuckled. Yuuri smiled fondly at Phichit, knowing how hard he has been working for that dream to come true. 

When the elevator finally reached the lobby, the doors opened slowly, only to be blocked by a very big and very angry Ciao Ciao, who had somehow made it down before them. 

“Boys,” he growled, glaring at the two miscreants at the back. 

“It was Yuuri’s idea!”

Phichit was the worst friend. 

“Ciao Ciao, have you heard of this thing called conditioner?”

Ciao Ciao sighed. “Four Continents are next week, Yuuri. Go back to skating.”

Yuuri did not. “I think you would truly benefit from it. Your long, thick hair sets you apart from the other balding coaches. You should take care of it.”

From the bleachers, Phichit nodded enthusiastically. “I agree. What a brilliant idea, Yuuri.“

“Why, thank you, Phichit.”

“If you win gold, I’ll let you two condition my hair before World’s,” Ciao Ciao said, instantly regretting it when Yuuri and Phichit exchanged looks. 

“We’ll hold you to that!” Phichit proclaimed as Yuuri got back to training harder. 

Ciao Ciao winced as Phichit tore the brush through another tangled lock of his long hair. The boy was far from gentle, and Ciao Ciao was pretty sure he got some sadistic pleasure out of it. He thinks Phichit is using it as revenge for prohibiting them from eating carbs till the end of the season, even though Phichit is technically still not competing. 

Yuuri, on the other hand, was already working the conditioner through the side of Ciao Ciao’s head that Phichit had finished untangling. He worked with the precision he usually only reserved for skating, nimble fingers thoroughly coating each section of his hair with the lotion. 

Phichit even filmed the ordeal, his phone in a tripod standing to the side of the three of them. He narrated what he was doing, often pointing out how much dandruff Ciao Ciao had. 

Ciao Ciao never recalled putting his own coach through this torture back when he was younger.  Maybe he had done something in his previous life that warranted such retribution. 

Phichit yanked the brush so hard a bristle broke off. 

He had to hand it to his boys. Having long, soft hair was something that set him apart from the other coaches. 

Not only that, but Phichit had insisted on picking out his outfit for Yuuri’s last Junior competition, and he had chosen a smart blazer and pants that were a little too tight. 

It did feel good to look good. Not that he’d admit it to his kids. 

Though, from the way they keep exchanging glances and giggling, they probably already knew. 

“If I win gold at Worlds, can we braid your hair for my senior debut?”

Ciao Ciao sighed, but Yuuri and Phichit have recently perfected their puppy dog eyes, and it was very, very hard to say no to either of them. “If you set a new personal best for either your free skate or short programme, I’ll let you two do whatever you want.”

Phichit’s shriek of excitement caused every head in the hotel lobby to swivel in their direction. 

figureksatingnews Follow

Japan’s Ace, Yuuri Katsuki, scored a new personal best at the World Championships, nearly beating the world record currently held by Viktor Nikiforov. 

Yuuri Katsuki stunned everyone yet again with a groundbreaking free skate, annihilating his personal best and shooting him ahead to first. Fans of Viktor Nikiforov are relieved, however, that his score was lower than the world record, leaving the title untouched. 

Katsuki has become increasingly well known by figure skating fans around the world as he rises the ranks swiftly. His programmes are even more impressive when you realise that everything he has won and achieved has been done without a quad jump. Seniors much older than he is with much more complex technical scores lose to this young upstart with a talent for expressing himself on the ice, often bearing his heart and soul to audiences and enrapturing audiences with his complex step sequences and spins. 

Fans are quick to draw parallels between Japan’s Ace and Russia’s Hero, with some fans believing that once he improves his technical abilities, he could easily wipe out the Living Legend. Hardcore Nikifans are adamant that this young upstart can beat their hero, claiming that Viktor had already mastered the quad flip at Katsuki’s age. 

What do you guys think? Will Katsuki continue to surprise us all and beat Nikiforov at a senior level? Or is the Living Legend indefinitely untouchable, set to only win gold till he retires? Respost your comments down below!

#figureskating #viktornikiforov #yuurikatsuki #katsukiyuuri #grandprixfinal #gpf #worldchampionships #skating #japansace #newviktornikiforov???? 

r/figureskating 

u/tripleaxelle • 2h

Comparisons of Yuuri Katsuki vs Viktor Nikiforov 

Sorry for the formatting, I’m on mobile! But anyway, here are some things I’ve compiled.

Junior 1st year GPF, Europeans/4C, and Worlds

Nikiforov: Silver, Gold, Gold

Katsuki: Bronze, Gold, Silver

Junior 2nd year GPF, Europeans/4C, and Worlds 

Nikiforov: Gold, Silver, Gold

Katsuki: Gold, Gold, Gold

Senior 1st year GPF, Europeans/4C, and Worlds 

Nikiforov: Bronze, Gold, Silver

Katsuki: ?????

As you can see, Katsuki is making a name for himself, earning the same number of gold medals Nikiforov did in his juniors. It’s no wonder fans are comparing the two. There have already been predictions of Katsuki’s senior placements, putting quite a lot of pressure on the young boy. 

For reference, these were Viktor’s placements:

2nd year: Silver, Gold, Bronze

3rd year: Gold, Silver, Gold

4th year: Silver, Gold, Gold 

And of course, an Olympic Gold. 

These are pretty tough expectations to meet for rising star Yuuri Katsuki. I hope it doesn’t overwhelm him, at the risk that he burns out too early. His performances are spectacular to watch!

Best Comments

infinite-swordfish • 1h

i really hope he doesn’t burn out!!! he’s such a small bean owo

victor-nikifcrov • 1h 

lol as if Katsuki can ever compare to Viktor. 

caosbitch • 43m

damn, imagine if katuski were older than viktor. peeps won’t be comparing so much 

captainjamaica • 26m

they will still compare them tgt, just the other way round 

Yuuri stared at the four gold medals hanging on his wall, right below his poster of Viktor. Being coached by Ciao Ciao had certainly pushed his skating to the next level, boosting his technical skills to match that of his competitors. Now that his technical score is more or less average, his outstanding presentation scores push him to the top of the podium, much to the envy of other, older skaters. 

It felt good to be awarded with the shiny gold medals. It felt less good to see the sneers and glares of other skaters. 

Yuuri found solace in the fact that at least the younger skaters enjoyed his company. Yuuri had made it a point to remember the name of every single competitor he was up against, and even some he wasn’t, not wanting to accidentally mistake them for a fan and put himself in that awkward position. For some reason, the younger juniors always have the same reaction when he greets them by name - slack jawed and wide eyed. Yuuri wasn’t exactly sure why - he was less than a year older than them after all, surely they would be of equal rankings when it came to skating, but for some reason they seem to act differently than his classmates from school. 

Nonetheless, he spends most of his time talking to skaters making their junior debuts, giving them words of encouragement and generally getting to know them better. He hopes to help them the way Chris helped him last season, but none of them clicked quite the way they did. Maybe it was because he was much more reserved than Chris was, or because the other medalist were always older than he was, but Yuuri was a little disappointed he didn’t manage to make any new friends. 

Oh well, at least he had Phichit and Chris. They were more than enough company. 

Ciao Ciao had been drilling him harder than ever for his senior debut. After discussing what his theme was going to be, he decided on Promise. Ciao Ciao said it would be good to highlight the fact that he had so much potential, and that he was still growing into it. He also wanted a constant reminder of Yuuri’s reason to skate in the first place - he promised himself that by his senior debut, he would be a household name of figure skating. 

Even Minako-sensei had a hand in perfecting Yuuri’s senior debut. She worked alongside Ciao Ciao to craft a choreography that best emphasised Yuuri’s strengths - his expression and delicate movements on the ice. 

The pressure on Yuuri was more suffocating than ever. He needed to be perfect, to enrapture the audience, to win gold. If not, all the efforts of those around him would’ve all gone to waste. Ciao Ciao and his constant guidance. Minako, for taking the time and money to fly to Detroit and stay there for weeks to choreograph. Phichit, for being understanding when Yuuri noisily clambered into their dorm late at night or early in the morning, having spent the whole night practising. 

He absolutely couldn’t screw it up. 

Nationals flew by without a hitch, with Yuuri taking home gold with a total score much higher than the silver medalist. Phichit waited for him back at the airport in Detroit, holding a giant banner with Yuuri’s face on it that said “Go Yuuri!” in a kindergartener-like scrawl. The picture he chose of Yuuri had his eyebrows raised and mouth open in protest, a mild look of surprise dressing his features. It was much like Yuuri’s current expression.  

“I’m bringing this to all your GPF performances.”

“Phichit, no.”

“I’ll beg Ciao Ciao to let me wait by the side of the rinks so everyone will see it.”

“Phichit, no .”

Yuuri nearly slipped on the ice when a loud shriek ricocheted through the rink. For a moment, Yuuri assumed that the inhumane noise came from Phichit, but upon glancing around, he realised Phichit stopped mid twizzle, casting a curious glance at Yuuri. 

A rinkmate of theirs, Devi, rushed over to the side of the rink where Yuuri was. Her eyes were gleaming in excitement as she nearly threw her phone at Yuuri. 

“You’re participating in the Rostelecom Cup and Skate America! Oh Yuuri! Aren’t you excited?”

As Yuuri took the phone from his rinkmate and checked the assignments, his heart did a flip when he saw his name amongst the best skaters in the world. 

To Yuuri’s dismay, he found out he hasn’t met a single person participating in the Rostelecom Cup. Well, almost all, except -

“YOU’RE UP AGAINST VIKTOR IN YOUR FIRST COMPETITION?” Phichit screeched as Ciao Ciao walked over. 

Yuuri was hit by a sudden wave of anxiety. Brushing it off, he scanned through the rest of the names, sighing a little in relief when he saw Christophe’s name at Skate America. 

Maybe it won’t be that bad, Yuuri assured himself. He didn’t know if he believed it, but he had to. 

Russia’s Living Legend up against Japan’s Ace in the first event of the Grand Prix Series. 

Many figure skating fans anticipate the face off with excitement, and even though it is Katuski Yuuri’s first Senior International event, a lot of pressure has been put on him to perform as more and more fans draw comparisons between his and Nikiforov’s previous routines. 

Though the young prodigy has yet to make an official statement, his close friend, Phichit Chulanont, has posted a screenshot of the assignments on their shared Instagram, Katsulanont, zoomed in on Katsuki’s name, along with a selfie of himself and Katsuki as Katsuki views the assignments with a rinkmate. The post is captioned “My best friend is competing in the GPF!!!!! I can’t wait to see a gold medal around his neck!!!!!!!!” 

The post has received 516 likes by the day after it was posted, mainly by Katsuki fans. Though there were many encouraging comments, some Nikifans took the opportunity to compare him to Nikiforov once again, claiming he could never be the best. 

Chulanont responded to each and every one of them with a middle finger emoji, and some particularly rude comments received a worded reply. 

[image]

vasilyppg katsuki can’t land more than one quad, no way he’s gonna beat viktor [laughing emoji]

        katsulanont at least yuuri can land a 4T. can you even land an axel??

[image]

cai.fan.lover Isn’t katuski a little young to be competing in the senior division ? he’s too little to be skating with the grownups 

           katsulanont he’s 15. viktor started competing at the senior division at 15. chris started at 16. it’s completely fine. they’re all teenagers anyway. 

And my personal favourite:

[image]

hannahg maybe if katsuki lost a little weight he could jump more quads 

             katsulanont eat shit bitch

Their most recent post of Yuuri at the rink by the account this morning had comments disabled. 

Chapter Text

Phichit had his phone confiscated by Ciao Ciao until the start of the season. The original post had been taken down, and because the account wasn’t verified, the ISU could not fault them. Phichit received a lengthy lecture about his public image, and how he has to be careful especially since he isn’t an official skater yet, but Phichit, with all the forethought of a twelve year old, didn’t care. 

“They were huge assholes!” Phichit cried, indignantly waving his hands around as he yelled at Ciao Ciao. It was a comical sight, as Ciao Ciao towered over him even in his skates. Phichit protested vehemently when Ciao Ciao said to ignore the comments. 

“They definitely were, but you don’t have to react so violently.” Ciao Ciao sighed. Phichit opened his mouth again to protest, but stopped when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

Yuuri stared at his skates, eyes downcast and still slightly red, but the almost imperceptible shake of his head caused Phichit to falter. He shot Ciao Ciao a glare, as if to say their argument wasn’t done, before skating away with Yuuri and agreeing to help him with his jumps. 

Yuuri’s use of social media became even less than what it had been before the post. Where he used to post some pictures of their cooking or adventures on the account, is now completely inactive. With Phichit’s ban and Yuuri’s anxiety, neither of them accessed social media until the Grand Prix series started. 

Phichit didn’t fly out with Yuuri to Russia like they used to back in Juniors. Ciao Ciao said Yuuri wasn’t to have any distractions, and despite their protest, the two of them reluctantly agreed. Once Phichit enters the Junior division, they won’t be able to be together for all their competitions anymore. It will be even worse in Seniors, when Ciao Ciao will have to split his time between their conflicting competitions. That was the main reason Ciao Ciao wanted Phichit to stay in America, under the care of another coach in their rink. 

As they checked into their hotel, Yuuri recognised some of the other skaters competing against him. They were much older than he was, the youngest being an 18 year old Turkish skater. His grip on Ciao Ciao’s jacket sleeve tightened, and he picked up his pace. 

Whilst he and Ciao Ciao were close, he found himself missing Phichit’s company. Phichit would know exactly what to say to make Yuuri feel better. Phichit would’ve kept him company as Ciao Ciao sorted out their hotel rooms. Phichit would talk to him and prevent his thoughts from taking a turn for the worse. 

But Phichit wasn’t here, Yuuri told himself. He had to be brave. He was fifteen now, surely he could be alone for just a little while. He could exist with just his thoughts for a while. It won’t kill him. 

He first saw Viktor during the warm up for their Short Programme. Yuuri was going through his choreography when cheers suddenly filled the arena. Turning around, Yuuri saw a long mane of silver hair enter the rink, waving to the audience in the stands. 

Turning back, Yuuri willed his nerves to calm down before continuing with his choreography. It was no use, and Yuuri was starting to find it hard to breathe, despite not doing anything vigorous. 

When Viktor began doing quad flips, the arena burst into louder cheers and applause. It was deafening, too loud for Yuuri. The lights were too bright, too intense, and there were too many people. His skates felt like lead, but his head felt too light. 

As Yuuri watched Viktor execute a flawless triple salchow, he thought about practising his jumps too. Ciao Ciao had warned him against it, lest he get tired, or worse, fall and take a hit to his already crumbling confidence. 

Looking around, he saw all of the other seniors practising jumps too. Shouldn’t he be doing the same?

Taking a deep breath, Yuuri started to gain speed, working his way to a triple axel, his favourite jump. 

Bracing himself, he squatted and jumped 

-only to fall and slide across the ice on his second rotation. 

His hip and shoulder hurt from the fall, but that was the least of his concerns. His face burned and he fought back tears as he pushed himself off the ice. Taking staggering breaths, he stood upright, avoiding looking at the sympathetic glances of the other skaters. 

He skated back to the sidelines, looking to Ciao Ciao for reassurance. His face was set in a grimace. 

Warm ups were soon over, and Ciao Ciao greeted Yuuri at the exit. 

“Don’t be discouraged, Piccolo.” Ciao Ciao’s voice was soft, but as he rubbed soothing circles in Yuuri’s back, Yuuri only felt worse. 

Fortunately, Yuuri was one of the last few skaters to perform. Unfortunately, his performance was two after Viktor’s. 

Yuuri willed himself not to think of anything, to focus on his breathing, on the words Ciao Ciao was whispering into his ear. It had worked for the first few skaters, but as soon as Yuuri heard Viktor’s name announced, followed by a deafening roar from the audience, Yuuri fell apart. 

Who was he thinking? He could never compete with Russia’s Living Legend. Every single article comparing them both had gotten it completely wrong. 

Yuuri could barely do a triple axel, and at his age, Viktor almost had all the quads under his belt. Viktor was astounding, his performances were enchanting, and he already had two world records at 19. 

Yuuri was nobody. Anyone who had ever compared him to Viktor had been insane. A dime a dozen skater from Hasetsu could never compare with Viktor Nikiforov. 

But yet they was still being pitted against each other. There were people out there rooting for Yuuri, believing that he could compete with Viktor. These were people he was going to thoroughly disappoint. 

More than that, not only was he going to disappoint the nameless faces sending him encouragement online. He was going to disappoint his family, his coach, his best friend. He was going to disappoint himself. 

When Yuuri heard his name being called, he felt numb. Gone was his passion for skating. Gone was the excitement he used to feel before a performance. He only knew dread and fear and failure. 

Even as he entered the rink, he noticed that the applause he received was much less than Viktor’s, or any of the other competitors’. They were in Russia, he realised. These people won’t be cheering for him. 

As he raised his arms to get into his starting pose, he found himself already shaking. 

Once he was done, he barely managed to put his skate guards on before sobbing into Ciao Ciao’s chest. 

Yuuri would later learn that what he experienced was a panic attack. But as he struggled to breathe, chest heaving with every laboured inhale, sobs wrecking his chest and shaking his entire frame, Yuuri had never felt such despair. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die, he wanted to go to bed and never wake up. 

His panic was so severe that it numbed him from almost everything around him. He already knew he blew it. He couldn’t have been any more disappointed in himself than he already was, and when he received his score, he didn’t even have the energy to wipe the tears from his face. 

His first ever short programme as a senior, and he broke down on international television. 

Yuuri didn’t stay around to watch the rest of the skaters - he knew he was dead last. He followed behind Ciao Ciao, not absorbing a single thing happening around him, like a little lifeless shadow. 

When Ciao Ciao put a phone to his ear, Yuuri couldn’t muster the energy to greet his best friend. Phichit seemed to understand, though. Reassurances flooded through the phone, the young boy being careless in his words but well meaning nonetheless. Yuuri closed his eyes and pretended Phichit was beside him, was there with him in real life to offer his shoulder to cry on. 

With his eyes closed, he didn’t notice the way Ciao Ciao stood beside him and shielded him from view of the other skaters. He missed the way Viktor stared at the pair from the other side of the room. 

Once his panic and general self loathing had subsided, Yuuri mentally kicked himself. How could he lose himself to his insecurities before such an important competition? How could he have been so selfish as to let his fears hold him back?

As he stared at the disheveled, red eyed kid in his mirror, he felt his despair dissolve into rage. He worked too hard for his stupid thoughts to limit him like this! It didn’t matter if he wasn’t good enough, if he was a shitty skater who had performance anxiety despite it being his only job. It didn’t matter what he was, only what he had to be. 

And he realised it then, that he had to be better. He had to be what everyone thought he was. He had to be talented, to be brave, to be more . His theme was Promise, and he had to fulfil every single one he made. 

Even if he wasn’t as talented as the other skaters, he simply had to be. For everyone who supported him, for the people writing his name alongside Viktor Nikiforov’s in articles online, for himself. He had to be better. He will be better. 

Yuuri fell into a dreamless sleep that night, exhausted from his day. 

Before the warmups for the Free Skate, Yuuri felt his chest tighten and constrict in an increasingly familiar way. 

He took a deep breath and pulled Ciao Ciao’s sleeves. “I feel bad. I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

Ciao Ciao could only look helplessly as the quiet, hardworking little boy he had grown so fond of marched into the restroom, the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

In the bathroom, Yuuri glared at himself in the mirror. He hated how weak he was. He hated how pathetic he looked. 

Pulling his phone out, he opened Instagram on his web browser and searched for his and Phichit’s shared account. 

He held his breath as he clicked on the comments of the second last post. 

Hot tears fell down his cheeks as he read every single hate comment, ignoring the ones of encouragement mixed within them. He let himself absorb each mean word, each and every insult. He willed himself to believe it all to be true, because they were right , and he was nothing compared to the other skaters. To Viktor. 

Once he had read the last comment, he inhaled a staggering breath before turning his phone off. Looking back up at the mirror, he wiped the tears off his face. 

“You have to skate better today, Katsuki,” he whispered to himself as his breath steadied. “You’re not enough, but you have to be.”

By the time he got back to the rink, warmups had already started. Ignoring the concerned look on Ciao Ciao’s face, he started going through his choreography, loosening his tense limbs. Rolling his shoulders, he closed his eyes and pretended he was back in Detroit. He ignored the murmurs of the crowd, the harsh lights of the stadium, the sound of scraping skates that weren’t his. He was going to perform the way he had practised so hard to. 

He was going to stun the audience. He had to. 

Once warmups were over, Yuuri was the only one remaining on the rink, for he was the first to perform. Giving Ciao Ciao his jacket, he nodded at his coach, hoping to assure him that his effort wasn't going to waste. 

At the centre of the rink, he closed his eyes and relaxed, letting the starting notes of the music wash over him. 

Yuuri watched as Viktor skated onto the ice. He was currently in third place, but he knew he would be kicked off the podium once Viktor was done. He couldn’t even find the energy in himself to be upset - he had given his free skate his all, and he was exhausted. 

But he still wanted to watch Viktor skate. He had admired the man for so long, but this was the first ever performance of his that Yuuri would be watching live. 

As the first notes echoed through the rink, Yuuri couldn’t tear his eyes away from Viktor. The way he glided across the ice, his movements fluid and gentle like a stream. The way he jumped so effortlessly and with a grace Yuuri could only dream of achieving. 

For the first time since he had arrived in Russia, he felt at ease. Viktor’s programme was so soothing, so comforting, and Yuuri found himself forgetting the troubles that had plagued him. It was as if Viktor danced to console him, to make him feel better after the horrible experiences he’s had. 

Suddenly, as the music picked up its pace, Viktor’s movements became less tender and more energetic. His body moved quicker, though still retaining its fluidity and calm. The increasing liveliness of his routine had Yuuri on the edge of his seat, watching every flick of his wrist, very twist of his feet, until the music reached its crescendo and ended with a flourish. 

Even the thunderous applause didn’t pull Yuuri’s attention away from Viktor. He watched, enraptured, as Viktor took a bow. He was beauty and grace personified. Whoever thought of comparing Yuuri to Viktor Nikiforov must feel foolish now. Here he was, as starstruck as the very first time he saw Viktor skate. He was absolutely mesmerised by Viktor. 

No one was surprised when he won gold. 

Though Yuuri didn’t medal, he still managed a respectable fourth place, which Ciao Ciao was very proud of. His free skate was a new personal best, and it was the second highest scoring skate amongst the competition. Of course, his short programme pulled him down, but that no longer bothered Yuuri. 

He was surprised at the ease of which he let the stress of his short programme go. It seemed so consuming, so colossal when he was facing it. But now, just two days later, it was a weight off his chest, nothing but a memory and a lesson. 

He knew he’d have to talk to Ciao Ciao about it at some point. He needed to share this with his coach for him to help Yuuri be a better skater. 

As he washed his hands in the bathroom, thinking of how to best describe his feelings to Ciao Ciao, he heard the door creak open. Looking up at the mirror, he saw Viktor in the reflection, eyeing him uncertainly. 

Yuuri’s mouth opened before he could stop himself. “Hello. Congratulations.”

Viktor’s eyes widened slightly, but he quickly caught himself. “Thank you. I, uh, I just wanted to say you skated beautifully today.”

At that, Yuuri’s eyes fell. Was he making fun of him? Surely not. Viktor had always seemed so nice. Yuuri wasn’t sure, though. It seemed simply outrageous that someone as talented as Viktor would acknowledge his mediocre skating. 

Viktor waited in silence for a couple seconds longer, and when it was clear he wouldn’t be getting a response, disappeared into a bathroom stall. Yuuri dried his hands and left as quickly as he could. 

Japan’s Ace cracks under the pressure

At the Rostelecom Cup, fans were devastated to see Katsuki Yuuri’s underwhelming short programme performance. The young skater seemed to be in a wrong mindset, and as his triples turned to doubles, and doubles to singles, it was evident that Katsuki Yuuri would not be giving us one of his usual, groundbreaking performances. 

A heartbreaking video of Katsuki sobbing into his coach’s chest upon leaving the rink surfaced, and people are left speculating if something personal had affected the young boy. The boy, who though had always been shy, often used to show his excitement clearly and wore his heart on his sleeve, was seen sitting stoic, silently crying as he received his results. 

However, fans were relieved, if a little confused, when a day later, Katuski skated the best free skate he had ever performed in his career. Gone was the distraught, afraid boy from days earlier. In his place stood a determined, steady young man, ready to take on the world. 

No official statements have been made by him or his coach, Celestino Cialdini, as of now, and it is unlikely we will get a reason for his first performance. Nonetheless, Katsuki placed an overall fourth, and still has a very real chance of competing in the finals. Hopefully, his breakdown on the first day had been a fluke, triggered by nerves and worries, and that he will continue to astound us in his upcoming performances. 

victorniciforovlover @vrnkfvforlife

HAHAHAHAA DON’T KATSUKI LOVERS FEEL STUPID NOW 

jenellll @jellybeens

@vrnkfvforlife stupid about what?? that katsuki set a new personal best that was 2 points less than viktor’s fs ??? 

dobie @masterhasgivendobieasock

@jellybeens but he fucked up his short programme. i’ve never seen quite a disaster

jameskarlston @jklol

@masterhasgivendobieasock As if major athletes never get nerves before a competition.

dobie @masterhasgivendobieasock

@jklol maybe, but viktor has never. that’s why he will remain the best, and katsuki will never compare. 

[selfie of Phichit and Yuuri on the couch, watching The King and The Skater on Ciao Ciao’s TV]

403 likes

katsulanont i finally got my phone privileges back, baby!!! #imissedu #thekingandtheskater #movienight

comments have been disabled

Chapter Text

Yuuri was far more excited for Skate America than he was for the Rostelecom Cup. 1) It’s on home territory, and he knew he would have more support here, 2) Ciao Ciao couldn’t find a reason for Phichit not to come, and 3) Yuuri was finally going to see Chris again. 

Yuuri and Phichit waited at the hotel lobby, talking excitedly about the competition. Yuuri couldn’t quite bring himself to confess what had happened during the Rostelecom Short Programme to Ciao Ciao, but he confided in Phichit instead. After a long talk, and a lot of tears shed, Yuuri was finally convinced that maybe he was enough. 

Of course, there were a few things Yuuri had left out. Like the way he was transfixed by Viktor’s skating, the way he felt like it was for him and only him even though that wasn’t true. The way Viktor complimented his Free Skate in the bathroom after. 

But he had told Phichit everything else, and the young boy took it upon himself to reassure Yuuri at every chance he got. Yuuri was so grateful for Phichit. He was truly the bestest friend anyone could ask for. 

Midway through their conversation, Yuuri was interrupted by a hand snaking around his waist, and a body pressed close to his. “Yuuuuuri~”

“Chris!” Turning around, Yuuri wrapped Chris in some sort of half hug, before pulling away and grinning at his friend. “Nice to see you again!”

Chris chuckled. “Nice to see you too, Yuuri. Hello, Phichit.”

Phichit grinned at Chris, saying hello, when the lobby doors opened again, sending a cold rush of wind into the room. Instinctively, their heads turned around, and in walked Yakov Feltsman, his two students in tow. 

“Wait, why’s Viktor here?” Phichit asked, voicing out the question in Yuuri’s mind. 

Chris snorted. “Georgi’s competing, and I guess Yakov doesn’t trust Viktor enough to be on his own.”

He waved at Viktor, who smiled and waved back. As Yakov went to the receptionist to handle some administrative matters, Viktor slipped over to where the group was sitting on the sofas. 

“Congrats on gold, Viktor,” Chris greeted, pulling Viktor in for a hug. “Can’t wait to beat your ass at Cup of China.”

Viktor put a finger on his lip, smiling teasingly at Chris. “Every year you say that, and every year you don’t.”

Yuuri thought that was a little rude, but Chris just laughed and playfully punched Viktor. Looking over at Phichit, he gave him a questioning look, like “is this how friends talk to each other?”

Phichit shrugged and mouthed back “Europeans”.

When Viktor finally turned his attention back to Yuuri, his teasing look watered down into a gentle smile. “Hello, Yuuri! Nice to see you again.”

“You too,” Yuuri said instinctively, giving Viktor a small nod. 

“And good luck for your competition! I would love to see you humble Chris by stealing gold!”

Eyes widening, Yuuri gaped up at Viktor, who just continued talking to Chris as if nothing happened.  Turning to Phichit, he found his best friend’s face also set into shock, though he had his phone out to record the whole encounter. 

After Yakov called Viktor back, muttering something about flighty teenagers, Chris had to leave to find his own coach too, leaving Phichit and Yuuri to decipher what Viktor had meant. 

“Don’t think too hard about it, Piccolo. Nikiforov was probably being a kind competitor.”

Yuuri’s face was smothered into his pillow, definitely thinking about it too hard. 

Ciao Ciao, who was not getting paid enough to deal with Yuuri’s gay panic, sighed and ate another satay. Phichit, sensing Yuuri wasn’t actually in turmoil, was documenting the whole thing on his phone as he ate his nasi lemak. 

“He’ll hate me if I don’t win gold!” Yuuri whined into the pillow. 

“He won’t,” Phichit and Ciao Ciao chorused. 

Yuuri continued to cry into his pillow. 

Yuuri was determined not to be left alone for a second before his competition. He hung out with Phichit in the morning, and when it was time to leave for warmups, he stuck next to Chris’ side like glue. If Chris was weirded out by it, he didn’t say. He was nice enough to distract Yuuri from his nerves by telling him stories of him getting drunk with his friends after Nationals. 

But when it was time to enter the rink for warmups, Yuuri felt his palms grow clammy. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stick by Chris, but he still didn’t know what to do if he suddenly panicked like last time. Even though Ciao Ciao was now better prepared to console Yuuri, he knew he wouldn’t be able to skate his best if he started to panic. 

But before he could spiral downwards, he heard someone scream his name.

It was loud and embarrassing, and everyone in the arena could hear it as it echoed, but when Yuuri turned around, his heart fluttered. Phichit had a front row seat, waving the silly banner like his life depended on it, generally being a public nuisance. Yuuri couldn’t help but smile. 

And to his surprise, he realised that around Phichit sat his rink mates. Devi, Timothy, Oliver, and Le Ting, along with some people from the hockey team, sat near Phichit, shouting their support at Yuuri. 

Yuuri’s joy outweighed his embarrassment as he skated over to them, waving excitedly. “I can’t believe you guys are here!”

“Go Yuuri!” Timothy shouted, the normally reserved boy shouting as loud as he could to cheer Yuuri on. 

Yuuri grinned at them, bowing to show his gratitude, before continuing on with his warmups the way Ciao Ciao instructed. 

The cold chill of nerves Yuuri had grown accustomed too we’re no longer there, replaced instead by a warm, cozy feeling. Yuuri couldn’t stop smiling as he continued his warmup, and before he left the rink, he skated by his friends one last time, waving and smiling in a way he didn’t think he would have been capable of. 

As he put his skate guards on, his face hurt from smiling so hard. Even Ciao Ciao smiled and waved at the students, who screamed back “Ciao Ciao!” at the top of their lungs.

“Do they seriously call you ‘Ciao Ciao’?” Chris laughed, poking fun at Ciao Ciao. “That’s like calling me ‘Bonjour’ or something!”

Ciao Ciao rolled his eyes, but a fond smile still pulled the corners of his mouth up. As they waited for their turns to skate, Chris and Yuuri joked about Ciao Ciao’s nickname, posting a couple of selfies onto Chris’ instagram for fun too. 

When Yuuri’s name was announced, his heart fluttered in anticipation, but he didn’t feel the heavy dread he once did. Instead, he skated onto the ice with his head held high, waving yet again to his friends, who were contributing to more than half of the cheer in the arena. 

He had to force himself to get rid of the smile on his face and be serious. Taking a deep breath, he blocked out everyone around him. He was going to make his friends proud. He was going to wow the whole audience. 

By the end of the day, Yuuri had another personal best, though he was still second to Chris. It didn’t matter, though, because he skated his best and his friends were all there to watch him. Even if he stumbled on his triple loop, it didn’t affect the rest of his skating, and he still managed to snatch second. 

After the press, back at the hotel, he was greeted by the group of them. After a round of congratulations, the captain of the hockey team proposed they go to the nearby japanese restaurant to celebrate. 

As they left the hotel, they saw Chris and Viktor walk in. They waved as they passed by, and Yuuri waved back. 

Yuuri felt a little awkward as they had dinner in his name. Throughout dinner, they sung his praises, and whilst Yuuri accepted them all gracefully, he still felt a little odd being the centre of attention. And the fact that they had all come down to watch him skate made him emotional in all sorts of ways. 

At the end of the night, the hockey team apologised that they wouldn't be able to stay for the free skate, as they had to get ready for their own nationals. Yuuri thanked them for being there anyway, and after they parted, Devi asked them how they were so close. 

“Uh, when we started learning to cook curry, we asked Akshay if he had any tips. We ended up sharing our cooking sometimes, and somehow it spread to the rest of the team,” Yuuri explained. 

Devi’s eyes widened. “You guys have been cooking curry and not sharing it with me ?”

[selfie of the group of them at Ajitsen Ramen]

213 likes

katsulanont congrats on a new personal best !!! 

ollieonice nice pic

devikhan had fun today! 

As Yuuri washed his hands, he smiled at his reflection. It was hard to be self-deprecating with your friend’s constant encouragement. The bathroom door opened, and Yuuri caught a head of silver hair. 

Why they kept meeting in bathrooms, Yuuri didn’t know. But when Viktor saw him, his face broke into a smile. 

“Katsuki Yuuri!” He greeted, his mouth the shape of a little heart. “Congratulations on your short programme. You could very well win gold!”

Yuuri had almost forgotten the words that had sent him into a gay panic just two days ago. Now, alone with Viktor, it all came back at once. 

“Uh…” Yuuri said smartly. 

“Of course, your landings could be steadier,” Viktor continued, ruining the moment. Walking over to Yuuri, he placed a hand on his stomach, over his thin costume. Yuuri hoped he couldn’t feel the butterflies. “In the air, you have to tighten here to spin, but when you land, you should keep it tight too to keep your centre of gravity the same place. That might help with your consistency.”

Yuuri didn’t realise he was holding his breath until Viktor pulled his hand back and he exhaled, audible in the otherwise silent room. 

Viktor chuckled, and as Yuuri’s face flushed red, he bid his goodbye, wishing Yuuri luck once more before leaving the bathroom. 

Yuuri was too stunned to move for a minute, and it never once crossed his mind that Viktor hadn’t actually used the bathroom. 

Yuuri sat with Chris as each skater was called onto the rink. The two of them exchanged stories about their night out. Yuuri was surprised to learn that Viktor and Chris had become really close over the last season, and that Chris managed to make his idol his best friend. 

Lucky, Yuuri thought. I could never do something like that. 

Chris told Yuuri all about Viktor, and about things he would have never heard from press or interviews. As Chris spoke about him, he seemed much more human than Yuuri saw him. He didn’t seem like Viktor Nikiforov to Chris. He just saw him as Viktor. 

When Yuuri’s name was called, he bid goodbye and good luck to Chris. As he made his way to the rink, Viktor’s words echoed in his head. 

I could very well win gold, Yuuri told himself. 

Entering the rink, Yuuri looked around for Phichit, hoping his best friend could offer some moral support. 

It was difficult to miss the banner with his face on it. This time, Devi and Timothy were the ones holding it up as Phichit held his phone out, probably filming Yuuri. Yuuri wondered if it was allowed. 

His eyes glanced to the left, wondering who the stranger sitting with his friends were. Yuuri squinted, but he couldn’t make the person out without his glasses, and so he shrugged and skated to the centre of the rink. 

Taking a deep breath in, Yuuri started to skate. 

As he prepared for a jump, he recalled Viktor’s words. A phantom hand touched his stomach, and he reminded himself to tense. 

When Yuuri landed, the applause seemed more well deserved. He smiled as he continued his routine, unable to keep the glee off his face. 

Before the music had even ended, deafening applause filled the stadium. Yuuri tried to catch his breath as he skated to the kiss and cry, the exhilaration and exhaustion making him want to drop. 

He gave Chris a smile and a thumbs up as they passed each other. Putting his guards on, he followed Ciao Ciao to the Kiss and Cry, where he awaited his score. 

Yuuri couldn’t really see the numbers, but when Ciao Ciao clapped him on the back, laughing proudly, Yuuri knew he did well. Reading the numbers to him, Ciao Ciao told Yuuri he was in first. 

It was the highest technical score Yuuri had ever received! His presentation score wasn’t as high as usual, probably because he broke character, and so his overall score was just slightly less than what it was at the Rostelecom Cup. Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to be upset. 

He managed to catch the end of Christophe’s performance, and as he ended it in a borderline pornographic pose, Yuuri cheered for his friend. He waited behind the cameras at the kiss and cry as he watched Chris receive his scores. 

Chris got silver. 

Yuuri had gotten used to being at the top of the podium during his junior years. To be back on top again, in his seniors, was a whole new taste of success. 

His face ached from smiling, but Yuuri didn’t care. He briefly recalled the last time he stood with Chris and Georgi on the podium, and he felt a swell of pride at how far he has come since then. 

“Pose for a selfie!” Chris called, positioning his phone. Georgi took a step closer to Yuuri, slinging an arm around him for the picture, and Yuuri threw a peace sign. “Nice, I’ll tag you both.”

They were soon ushered to the press conference, without a break between to breathe. As the gold medalist, Yuuri was asked more questions than he had before, but he forced a smile on his face as he replied. Occasionally, he would glance at Ciao Ciao for confirmation on what to say. 

“Katsuki! Can you tell us what happened during your Short Programme at Rostelecom?” A reporter shouted, causing the other reporters to quieter down to hear his response. 

“Uh,” Yuuri started, looking at Ciao Ciao in panic. Ciao Ciao tried to tell him something, but since he was not eloquent at reading lips or hand gestures, Yuuri couldn’t understand him, so he just decided to wing it. “I was just nervous. There’s a lot of pressure on me.”

He seethed at the looks of pity he received from some of the reporters, but he would rather sympathy than hate any day. 

“Yuuri! Who were the people you stopped to speak to during warmups?”

“Those were my friends,” Yuuri answered cheerfully. “I’m really glad they were here to watch me. It was really nice of them!”

“Do you think you can win gold at the finals?” 

Yuuri paused. Truthfully, he didn’t. It was his first senior competition, and skaters much more talented than him have never beaten Viktor Nikiforov. He knew realistically that it wasn’t possible, but he also knew he couldn’t say that. “That’s the goal. If I make it in.”

Thankfully, the reporter deemed it a good enough answer. 

“Your jumps were much better this performance. What changed?”

Yuuri felt his face heat up as he recalled the bathroom encounter, and he hoped the cameras didn’t pick up on it. “I got some good advice before the competition.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ciao Ciao shift, and when he glanced over, Ciao Ciao gave him an inquisitive look. Yuuri avoided meeting his eye again. 

“Yuuri! What were you thinking when you smiled after your first landing?”

#trending #skating

[selfie of the three medalist on the podium]

1k likes

christopheg Skate America medalists! It seemed like so long ago when I first stood on the podium with Yuuri @katsulanont and Georgi @georgipopovich

[gif of Yuuri blushing at the press conference,eyes wide behind his glasses]

2k likes 

katsudonlover Look at our small bean!!! I wonder who gave him the advice [lenny face]

[picture of Yuuri holding his gold medal, eating Katsudon with Celestino beside him]

[selfie of Phichit and a man with blue eyes, wearing a mask and beanie as they watch the competition]

879 likes

katsulanont i think i can speak for all of us when i say im so proud of our yuuri!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Close call!

Katsuki Yuuri stunned fans with a spectacular gold worthy performance at Skate America, a drastic improvement from the Rostelecom Cup. He has said that his first short programme failure was due to nerves during the press conference after Skate America. Fans of Katsuki are quick to defend the skater, noting how he was the youngest competitor there. 

Now with a fourth and a gold finish, Katsuki has a good chance of getting into the Grand Prix Finals, though that will only be confirmed by the end of the Cup of China. 

So far, the few predicated finalists are Viktor Nikiforov, Dominique Costa, Georgi Popovich, Nathan Tan, Christophe Giacometti, Cao Bin, Yang Ji-Hoon, and Katsuki Yuuri. It’s going to be a tough call this year, with many talented skaters competing against each other. A single point might determine their success or failure, and everyone is kept on the edge of their seats. 

Will Japan’s Ace and rising star Katsuki Yuuri rise to the challenge and claw his way to the finals? Or did his first short programme pull him down? Comment your thoughts down below!

Chapter Text

Phichit made sure to film Yuuri’s reaction to getting into the finals. The video of him screaming and dropping his phone started trending immediately. 

Held in Tokyo, Yuuri was excited to go back home for the competition, even though he knew it would put more pressure on him. 

It took no convincing for his parents to agree to travel down to watch him skate. It took some convincing for them to bring Vicchan. 

Ah, how Yuuri couldn’t wait to see Vicchan again! Not that he didn’t miss his family. He missed them very much. It was just that Vicchan didn’t make him do the dishes. 

He felt a little guilty for not being too upset that Phichit couldn’t accompany him, but his joy at seeing his family again overrode his sadness. Yuuri was practically bouncing with excitement all the way to the hotel, and after chucking his luggage into his room, he ran to the lobby, phone in hand, already calling Mari. 

But before the second ring, he heard a bark from afar, and Yuuri rushed out the front doors. 

The moment Yuuri saw Vicchan his whole world was right again. Every single fall, every bruise, all the nights he cried himself to sleep because he missed his family suddenly seemed so trivial when Vicchan lept into his arms, licking Yuuri’s face. Yuuri laughed as he fell to his knees (lightly of course - he still had a competition to win), hugging Vicchan tightly and sniffling into his fur. 

“You’d think he’d greet his mother like that, but no,” came a soft voice from above. Looking up, Yuuri grinned at his mum and dad, and once he got on his feet he smothered them in a hug. 

“Mama! Papa!” Yuuri cried, pulling them closer. “Oh. And Mari, I guess.”

“Idiot,” Mari scolded, before pulling Yuuri into a hug too. 

“You’re so skinny, have they not been feeding you enough in America?” Hiroko muttered, poking Yuuri’s arms. “I thought they had food in big sizes there!”

“You’re so tall now, Yuuri,” Toshiya noted, ruffling Yuuri’s hair. “When you left you were so small.”

Vicchan barked indignantly at being ignored, and Yuuri pulled him up to his face to snuggle him. “I missed you so much, Vicchan!”

“Ahem.”

“Oh, and you guys too, Mama, Papa.”

“You take him to the rink for years and this is how he repays you?” Mari chided, pointing at Yuuri. “Stardom must’ve gotten into your head.”

Yuuri, with all the maturity of a fifteen-year-old, stuck his tongue out at his sister. 

Bending down, Mari scooped up a handful of frozen snow (read: block of ice) and chucked it at Yuuri, who turned around to dodge the snow, putting a hand over Vicchan’s head to protect his boy. The ice hit his back but bounced off harmlessly.

"Hey!"

Mari scooped another handful and swung her hand back, getting ready to deliver a fatal blow, when she suddenly stopped and dropped it. “Yuuri,” she hissed, suddenly pulling her brother close. “Your boyfriend is staring RIGHT at you.”

Yuuri turned around, confused at the serious tone of Mari’s voice. “But Phichit is in America?”

“Not - what? I meant Viktor Nikiforov!”

Eyes widening, Yuuri was about to turn around and look for Viktor when Mari gripped his jacket so he couldn’t move. “Don’t look! You’ll seem like an even bigger loser. Just go into the hotel and act natural.”

Shrugging her hand off, he narrowed his eyes at her. “Since when do you care about how I act in front of my crush - I mean, idol.”

Mari rolled her eyes, brushing off the snow on Yuuri’s coat. “Because I’m the best sister. And if you don’t want me telling him about your seven posters - or the fact that you named your dog after him - you better buy me katsudon with your prize money.”

Yuuri smiled at his sister. He would rather die than admit it, but he did miss her too. Just a little. 

With Vicchan comfortable in one hand, Yuuri brought his parents into the hotel lobby to meet Ciao Ciao. His family was staying in a different inn nearby, courtesy of Hiroko’s friends, but had agreed to meet when Yuuri arrived. 

As Hiroko hounded Ciao Ciao about not feeding Yuuri enough, Yuuri played with Vicchan on the opposite end of the couch, ignoring their conversation completely. 

Suddenly, his phone buzzed, and when Yuuri saw Phichit’s contact (saved as ‘babe <3’ on a dare), Yuuri picked up and put it on speakerphone unthinkingly to play with Vicchan. “Yo Phichit, what’s up?”

“I COMPLETELY FORGOT WE HAD TO BRAID CIAO CIAO’S HAIR YOU HAVE TO DO IT YUURI I WISH I WAS THERE WITH YOU YOU NEED TO FILM IT WAIT NO JUST DO IT ON INSTAGRAM LIVE I’LL WATCH IT FROM THERE.”

On the other side of the couch, Ciao Ciao’s face paled considerably.

“Bonjour. If I may ask, why is Celestino Cialdini in a fishtail braid?”

“I watched a tutorial last night.”

“Ah yes, that explains everything.”

Looking up from his SNS with Phichit, Yuuri grinned at Chris, a shit-eating smile lighting up his face. His smug mischief faltered when he saw Viktor Nikiforov beside him. 

“It’s very neat,” he noted, not looking at Yuuri but instead staring at Ciao Ciao’s hair. “You tied it?”

Yuuri squeaked, which Viktor correctly assumed was a confirmation. 

“You must do my hair one day,” Viktor muttered. Yuuri stopped functioning, his brain short-circuiting, but Viktor continued talking to himself. “I can never do it that neatly myself, and Lilia always pulls too hard.”

The snap of a camera shook Yuuri out of his frozen state, and he turned to find Chris taking a picture of the two of them. 

“Don’t post it anywhere!” Yuuri begged. 

“Of course not.”

Yuuri heaved a sigh of relief. 

“I’m just sending it to Phichit.”

“That’s even worse!”

Phichit ended up adding that photo to his ‘Victuuri <3’ album. He claims he will make a montage at their wedding. 

Yuuri blushed as he protested. It was half-hearted at best. 

[image of Celestino looking defeated, his perfect braid visible in a mirror behind him. Yuuri can also be seen grinning]

175 likes

katsulanont @viktornikiforov may win all skating golds (so far), but when it comes to luxurious hair, his placement matches his hair colour: silver

viktornikiforov why must you hurt me in this way

katsulanont holy shit you replied i need to tell yuuri

[selfie of Yuuri and Vicchan in the snow]

264 likes

katsulanont vicchan best boi. best doggo. yes, including makkachin #sorrynotsorry

katsulanont OMG YUURI YOUR FIRST POST KM SO PROUD

devikhan this is a little confusing. maybe you guys should get separate accounts lol

viktornikiforov what did i do to warrant this hate :,(

Yuuri knew Viktor was joking. Mostly. Hopefully. Glancing over at Viktor, he found the Russian laughing at his phone. As if he knew he was being watched, he chose that moment to look up and lock eyes with Yuuri. 

Looking away hastily, Yuuri felt his face heat up at being caught staring. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Viktor stand up and walk over. And then he sat right next to him. 

“I will not argue that Vicchan is adorable,” Viktor started, sounding very serious. “And I will not claim that he isn’t the best boy. But, Makkachin is best girl, and you need to retract your best doggo statement.”

“Y-yeah, okay, I’ll go do that,” Yuuri stammered, staring intently at his phone. 

A hand in his shoulder made him jump. “Yuuri,” Viktor said softly, and the gentle tone of his voice made Yuuri look up. Viktor’s face was serious and concerned. “I was just joking. Mostly. Don’t be so worried?”

It came out more as a question than a command, and Yuuri nodded. “Okay. Vicchan is still the best doggo, though, but I guess Makkachin would be a very close second.” 

Viktor grinned. “No no, she’s first, just like her daddy.”

Yuuri found himself grinning back. “Not for long.”

Even though his heart still fluttered every time Viktor spoke, he became more and more comfortable talking to him. Granted, they only talked about their pets, but still. 

Viktor told Yuuri stories of Makkachin when she was still a puppy and would fit comfortably in one of Viktor’s bags, but even after she grew she tried to sleep in it, tearing the bag in the process. 

Yuuri told him about how he had to leave Vicchan, and all the heartache that followed. 

“I’m so sorry. I cannot imagine not being with Makkachin for so long,” Viktor said sincerely. Before Yuuri could respond, however, he was interrupted by a very loud ‘Vitya!’. 

Looking across the room, Yuuri saw Yakov Feltsman storm over, face crossed. His eyebrows were furrowed as he glared at Viktor. When he caught sight of Yuuri, he paused for just a millisecond, before glaring at Yuuri with almost double the intensity. 

He turned his attention back at Viktor and scolded him in spitfire Russian, and Yuuri tried not to look as terrified as he felt. But when he looked at Viktor, he found the skater looking almost bored. He had a petulant pout, but none of what Yakov was saying seemed to get into his head. 

Until he suddenly burst into laughter. Yuuri’s eyes darted to Yakov, who had a bulging vein on his forehead that looked like it was about to burst. 

Viktor said something back in Russian, a slightly teasing tone to it, making Yakov sigh and massage his temples. 

“Katsuki,” he said, making Yuuri jump. “You should get practicing. Cialdini was looking for you.”

Yuuri didn’t waste a second before booting out of the room, taking any excuse to leave. Yakov was terrifying. He scared him. 

As he found Ciao Ciao in his hotel room, setting out his costume on the bed, he realised he had completely forgotten about the competition. 

Yuuri was vaguely aware of Viktor sitting across the room, and not for the usual reasons either. No, because whenever he’d look up, Viktor would smile kindly at him, but Yakov would huff and glare at Yuuri in response. 

“He’s like that to everyone,” Chris assured him. “He hates me more than you, I promise.”

Yuuri didn’t know if that was true. “Thank you, Chris. And good luck!”

“You too,” Chris said merrily before returning to his corner of the room to get ready. 

“Oh, and Yuuri? Besides your parents, I invited another guest to watch you skate,” Ciao Ciao mentioned offhandedly as Yuuri was lacing his skates. 

Yuuri wondered who it could be. Yuuko? No, Mari would’ve told him. 

“My little Yu-chan is all grown up!”

Yuuri whipped around, eyes widening as he saw Minako-Sensei walk into the room. Running over as fast as he could with one skate on, Yuuri tackled her into a hug. 

“Sensei!”

“I can’t believe I’ll be watching you as your choreographer,” Minako cooed, before her face immediately turned serious. “You better medal out there. If not, I won't let you eat katsudon with your family tonight. “

Slightly afraid, Yuuri nodded. 

Yuuri stepped out onto the ice as the stadium cheered louder for him than they’ve ever done before. Letting himself look around, Yuuri saw dozens of Japanese flags, 

Between talking to Viktor and finding out his sensei would be watching him skate, he had no time to be anxious. He was nervous, sure, but he hadn’t spiraled yet. 

He thinks he can see his family waving a poster of him nearer to the top, and he waved in that direction, hoping they were actually his family. 

But he forced himself to block the stadium out and focus on his breathing. Closing his eyes, he let the first few notes of the music wash over him and began to dance. 

Even though he stood on the second podium, Yuuri felt his entire being fill with pride, almost to the point of tears. His first ever Senior competition, and he had come in silver !

It was a tough competition. He had beaten Chris by just two points, points that he could’ve easily lost had he made a single mistake. But he didn’t. And the silver medal around his neck attested to it. 

Chris wore his bronze with pride, beaming at the cameras on Viktor’s other side. He stopped to pull his phone out, turning his camera on. “Selfie!”

Yuuri felt his stomach flip as Viktor slung an arm across his shoulder, smiling at the camera. 

Katsuki and Nikiforov - the bitter rivalry 

Fans were shocked when Katsuki took to social media to air his distaste for Nikiforov in two consecutive Instagram posts. The first post insulted Nikiforov’s hair, claiming it came in second when compared to his coach, Celestino Cialdini. The second post insulted Viktor’s lovely dog, Makkachin, saying she was not as good as Katuski’s own pet, Vicchan. 

Viktor has responded to both offenses asking what he had done to warrant this uncalled hate (spoiler: he did nothing), and fans are taking to the platform to defend Russia’s Living Legend from the proud upstart. Read more… 

@kattyskate seriously?? they were just joking, you guys are crazy. phichit posted the first one btw 

@bellelaca NOOO NOT MAKKACHIN! HOW COULD KATSUKI? 

@tommeeisnt Oh my God can’t you guys do some real sports journaling instead of posting this crap?

@heidikriss idk, katsuki doesn’t seem like the joking type. i think he’s being serious. and viktor genuinely seems hurt. 

@potatofxcker shut up. everyone shut up. they’re literally just joking and y’all are being INSANE

@crackhead47 i ship it. tsundere x yandere or sum shit

@lisasim @crackhead47 do you know what that even means????

april @aprilmayjune

KATSUKI GOT SILVERRRRRR. OUR LITTLE BEAN GOT SILVER IN HIS GPF SENIOR DEBUT. DID YOU KNOW WHAT VIKTOR GOT IN HIS DEBUT??? BRONZE. OUR KATSUDON DID IT!!! NIKIFANS HAVE TO ADMIT THAT HE’S BETTER NOW MUAHAHA

nikiforov’slut @ilovehimyourmajesty

Replying to @aprilmayjune 

just because he got silver ONCE doesn’t mean he’s any good. could be a fluke

phichufan @felix23

Replying to @aprilmayjune and @ilovehimyourmajesty

Seriously? This 15 year old boy just set a world record and you called it a fluke? Fuck right off.

selestine @celestineviolet

Replying to @aprilmayjune and @ilovehimyourmajesty

This is why I hate nikifans ugh

Japan’s Ace made history today as the youngest person ever to win a GPF silver.

The title used to belong to the Living Legend, Viktor Nikiforov at 16, but 15 year old Katsuki Yuuri snatched it away, much to the delight of his fans. 

Not to worry though, Nikifans, as Viktor still has four world records under his belt. His Short Programme, Free Skate, and overall score still remains the highest in history. He is also the first figure skater to land a quadruple flip, and he did it at the young age of 16, no less. 

So, will Katsuki Yuuri rise to the challenge and prove himself as a worthy competitor? Or will Russia’s Living Legend remain untouchable at the top of the world and the podium?

[selfie of Yuuri and his family + Celestino eating katsudon]

2k likes

katsulanont i missed my family so much!!! i couldn’t have achieved what i did without their support today <3

marikatsu congrats bro

katsulanont I WISH I WAS THERE YUURU YOU WON SILVER WJAHSHDHDHDJDJD

christopheg congratulations Yuuru! ;)

[picture of Chris on the ice, mid spin]

1k likes

christopheg whoever this photographer is pls contact me. my ass looks divine 

[selfie of the three medalist on the podium, Yuuri’s face noticeably red]

3k likes

christopheg can’t believe @katsulanont broke a world record today. It’s always nice to stand with you on the podium! @viktornikiforov better watch out, he’s coming for you HAHA

viktornikiforov send me this pic <3 

christopheg done <3

katsulanont can i get it too??? i need it for the album

viktornikiforov what album??

katsulanont PHICHIT 

christopheg i have more to send you phichit hold on

katsulanont chris pls why

viktornikiforov what album??????????

“Ciao Ciao, I need to learn a quad loop.”

“You can barely quad toe loop, Yuuri, why even.”

“Viktor did a new quad when he was 16. I need to do it too.”

“That’s not healthy Yuu-”

“Fuck off I’m debuting next season so Ciao Ciao gotta focus on ME.”

“Okay. But like when Phichit skips practice can we work on the quad loop?”

[selfie of Yuuri and Phichit after 4C, a gold medal around Yuuri’s neck]

4k likes

katsulanont my boy made history once again!!!!!!!!!

christopheg congratulations Yuuru 

katsulanont is this seriously going to become a thing ffs

christopheg :O what a potty mouth you have yuuru 

viktornikiforov congrats yuuru!!!

katsulanont viktor why

viktornikiforov admit makkachin is best doggo

katsulanont hi guys i’m yuuru katsuku nice to meet you 

christopheg SAVAGE

“Ciao Ciao I’ve decided on my junior debut programs.”

“Oh? What songs are they?”

“‘Shall We Skate’ and ‘Terra Incognita’ from-”

“Are you seriously going to debut to songs from The King and The Skater?”

“Yuuri debuted to Studio Ghibli! I fail to see the problem.”

“That’s true.“

“You’re not helping, Yuuri. Piccolo, you can’t debut to The King and The Skater soundtrack.”

“Watch me.”

“No Yuuri, just pretend to fall.”

“That literally goes against everything I’ve ever learnt. Why don’t you play King Arthur?”

“King Arthur is taller than the Skater, come on Yuuri.”

“KIDS. I TOLD YOU TO STOP PRACTISING TO THAT MOVIE. YUURI STILL HAS WORLD’S.”

“Just five more minutes, Ciao Ciao, I need to learn to fall.”

Yuuri clutched a bronze medal as he skated to the edge of the rink. 

“If you hadn’t spent all that time with Phichit practicing for a performance you will never be performing, that could’ve been a silver,” came Ciao Ciao’s congratulations. 

“Notice how he didn’t say gold?” Chris teased, before receiving a punch from Viktor. 

“Who says I won’t be performing it?” Yuuri challenged, face impassive. “I still have an exhibition skate.”

“Phichit is in America.”

“…”

“IS PHICHIT IN ITALY RIGHT NOW.”

“I can’t believe Yakov says I’m the biggest headache of a skater,” Viktor muttered. 

[video of Yuuri and Phichit performing a duet to The King and The Skater Soundtrack]

200k views • 2 days ago

19k likes

louiseianna • 3 hours ago

it looked like yuuri put in more effort into this than his world’s performance LOL

[image of Yuuri throwing Phichit into the air]

[image of Yuuri pretending to fall as Phichit catches him]

[image of Phichit doing a handstand on Yuuri’s shoulders as they skate on the ice]

[image of Celestino covering his face with his hands. his hair is in princess Leia buns]

14k likes

figureskatingtea this is Phichit’s true debut 

Chapter Text

As Yuuri served the miso soup he made, Ciao Ciao prepared himself to make a serious announcement. 

“Yuuri,” he started, though he looked at both boys at once. This was going to be a tough conversation. “As you know, Phichit will be making his junior debut.”

“Yup!” Yuuri replied, not understanding Ciao Ciao’s serious demeanor. “You look like you’re about to break up with us.”

Sucking in a breath, Ciao Ciao decided to bite the bullet. “How would you like to go to summer camp?”

Yuuri blinked. “What?”

“It’s just that since Phichit already skated with you publicly, there is a lot more pressure on him to perform well. And as much as I love the both of you, we all know that you guys get less done when you are together." Ciao Ciao chuckled, trying to diffuse the tension. "I’m not leaving you, because once the season starts you guys tend to get more serious, but I think focusing on Phichit over the summer would be the best way to go.”

“Oh,” Was all Yuuri could say. On the other end of the table, Phichit also sat in contemplative silence. 

“Once you come back, I’d like for you to help with Phichit too,” Ciao Ciao continued. “And in exchange, I’ll try and teach you the quad loop. I can’t make any promises, because it has never been done before, but I’ll try.”

Yuuri swallowed. “Alright. Which summer camp will I be going to?”

“You can choose,” Ciao Ciao replied. “Yakov Feltsman’s?”

“No!” Phichit interrupted. “Then he can say ‘I’ve trained the two best skaters in the world’!” Phichit mocked in a horrible Russian accent. “He doesn’t deserve that power.”

“O...kay. I actually called Minako to discuss this. She suggested sending you to ballet camp.”

“But my PCS is already the best!” Yuuri shot back.

Ciao Ciao shrugged. “It was just a suggestion.”

Huffing, Yuuri crossed his arms. “Minako doesn’t even hold summer camps.”

“Not her,” Ciao Ciao said. “She has a friend.”

Yuuri was dancing in the Detroit Academy ballet studio, preparing himself for summer camp. He understood why Ciao Ciao didn’t want to send him to a skating camp - it would be a little strange for Japan’s Rising Star to suddenly attend a summer camp like everyone else. And he even assured Yuuri that there will be a rink nearby to practice on the weekends at his camp, so he wouldn’t be out of touch with skating. 

As Yuuri pirouetted across the room, he was brought back to when he was six, dancing under Minako’s guidance, back when he hadn’t taken figure skating as seriously. 

He almost forgot how he had wanted to be a ballerina when he was younger. He used to attend classes with Mari until she dropped out, but he kept going. 

He recalled dancing with his sister, spinning in the studio, losing himself to the music for the first time. He loved dancing. It would always be a part of him. 

“You want me to teach him ?” Came a heavily accented voice, snapping Yuuri out of his trance. Whipping around, Yuuri felt his heart stop as he realised people were watching him. One of them was Minako-sensei, which Yuuri was used to, but it was just unexpected. The other lady was tall and scary, and though she carried herself with the grace and sophistication of a ballerina, she had a menacing aura of a tiger. 

“Yes,” Minako replied. “He was my best danseur.” 

The scary lady hummed in response, and Yuuri shrunk into himself. 

“Fine. I suppose what my ex-husband does not know will not kill him,” she said, strutting towards Yuuri. “My name is Lilia Baranovskaya. You will call me Madame.”

Yuuri hated Russia. He hated it so much. It was cold and the people were scary and the food was horrible and he hated being alone. He didn’t speak a word of Russian, and all the other ballet dancers had been dancing their whole lives, whereas Yuuri had stopped when he was nine to focus on skating. 

He wasn’t used to being worse than other students. Sure, his skating wasn’t the best, but he was always at least average. Here, he was the absolute worst at ballet. 

Yuuri scowled as he chucked his pointe shoes across the room. It was late at night, and everyone else had already retired. Yuuri, who had no friends and who didn’t particularly want to return to his shared flat with Madame Baranovskaya, often stayed late into the night. He was barred from skating for the first two weeks, with Madame Baranovskaya saying he had to relearn ballet before he could skate again. The inability to do what he loved the most irritated him to no end. 

“That’s not good behaviour.” Madame Baranovskaya materialised out of nowhere, standing in the doorway to scold Yuuri once again. “You’re acting like a child.”

“You treat me like a child!” Yuuri wasn’t one to let his temper flare out, but after a week of failing, a week of being away from home but shown absolutely no sympathy, Yuuri had had enough. “I hate it here! I want to go back to Ciao Ciao!”

Madame Baranovskaya merely raised her eyebrows, looking at Yuuri as if he were an idiot. He had gotten used to it throughout the week. “Celestino sent you to me . What would he think if his prized pupil couldn’t last more than a week at summer camp?”

“This is for ballet!” Yuuri cried, throwing his other shoe onto the floor. “I’m a skater!”

“You’re a worthless skater if you cannot dance.” Yuuri winced at Madame Baranovskaya’s harsh tone. 

“My presentation scores are already the best!”

Pursing her lips, Madame Baranovskaya gave Yuuri a pointed glare. “Do you think Viktor Nikiforov knows he’s the best skater?”

Yuuri wondered where this was going. “Probably.”

“And yet, he still works hard, doesn’t he?” Madame Baranovskaya asked. “He still practices his jumps and his choreography until his feet bleed. But if he thinks like you, why should he practice if he’s already the best?”

Unable to answer her question, Yuuri could only look at his feet. 

“That’s because despite being the best, Viktor knows he can be better,” she continued. “And so can you. Tell me, boy. Why do you skate?”

“So everyone knows my name.” Yuuri’s reply was almost automatic at this point. After repeating it to himself before competitions, after a hard practice, whenever an interviewer asked, it came out of Yuuri’s mouth on its own. 

“Everybody already knows your name. But they also know you as the second-best figure skater in the world.”

Clenching his jaw, Yuuri silently seethed. As if he needed another reminder. “Second best is pretty impressive.”

“I will not disagree. But is it enough for you?”

Looking up, Yuuri met the intense gaze of Madame Baranovskaya. He didn’t falter this time. 

“Will you go down in history as the second-best figure skater of your time? Or will you be better, skate better than Viktor?”

Skate better than Viktor? It was impossible. “That will be difficult.”

“You are a danseur, boy. You have the grace and ability to express yourself the way Viktor does not. You can be better, in all components. You will not settle for what you are right now - I will not let you.”

Yuuri nodded. He could be better, he will be better. He has to. 

Yuuri locked himself in a bathroom stall before he let himself cry. 

It was all so stupid. He hated Russia, he hated the cold, he hated the intimidating people, he hated the confusing language that he can never seem to pick up no matter how hard he tried. He hated the unfamiliar food, the snobby people in his classes, the way he was too tired to go to the rink after practice. 

Most of all, he hated himself. He had somehow forgotten the most simple ballet moves in the past few years he had been in Detroit. It was absolutely humiliating, being the last in his class when he knew he was so much better, receiving disdained looks from other students when all he wanted to do was scream. He wanted to pull his hair out when he realised moves he could’ve done in his sleep when he was seven eluded him now. 

As he cried, he didn’t try to stifle his sobs. He hated this, he hated everything, and he would do anything to go home and see Phichit and Ciao Ciao and watch The King and The Skater and eat some shitty takeaway and skate at his home rink. 

Yuuri was too engrossed in his tears to notice the sound of the bathroom door opening. He nearly jumped out of his skin when his cubicle door was kicked open. 

Yuuri rubbed the tears out of his eyes, too confused and frightened to react. The boy who stood at the door frame was small and blond, with angry green eyes and a really ugly haircut. He had a scowl on his face when he glared at Yuuri, but after a second, his eyes widened. “You’re Katsuki Yuuri.”

His English was heavily accented, but he was the only English-speaking person aside from Lilia Yuuri had met there. He sniffled before responding. “Uh… yes.” 

“My name is Yuri too,” the boy said. “Yuri Plisetsky.”

Who was this kid? Why did he introduce himself like James Bond? “Nice to meet you.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes at Yuuri. “What are you doing here?”

“Breaking down. I’m just… overwhelmed,” Yuuri answered honestly, too tired to lie. Besides, this little boy wasn’t going to judge him, right?

“I meant in a ballet school. In Russia.”

“Oh. I’m here for ballet camp.”

“You’re a skater,” Yuri insisted. “Why are you at ballet camp?”

“Ciao Ciao sent me here to be babysat,” Yuuri grumbled. “Are you a skater?” Yuuri asked to deflect the topic. He must’ve been if he recognised Yuuri. 

“Yes,” Yuri replied, in a cocky tone. “And I’m an amazing skater, my coaches all said so. I’ll surpass that loser Nikiforov when I’m older.”

Yuuri raised his eyebrows as he wiped his tears. “Not a fan?”

Yuri raised his head, sticking his nose in the air. “Of that pompous airhead? No.” 

Fanboy Yuuri was not above starting an argument with an eight-year-old. What skater isn’t a fan of Viktor Nikiforov? He’s Viktor freaking Nikiforov! He was so offended on Viktor’s behalf he almost forgot to be sad. “Ah. But he’s the best skater?”

“Not for long,” Yuri grumbled, awfully serious for such a small child. 

“How old are you?”

“Eight. Almost nine,” he said proudly. 

“Well, that’s still almost seven years until you can join the senior division. Until then, he’d remain the best skater. He’d be what, 27? By then? Maybe he’s already retired. You probably won’t have a chance to prove you’re better than him by then, sorry about that. Unless you break his records, of course, but it wouldn’t really be the same.”

Yuri just stared at the other Yuuri as he rambled. “You don’t talk this much in interviews.”

Yuuri flushed. “Ah, that’s because I don’t like interviews. I can shut up now if you want.”

“How do you get such high presentation marks?” Yuri asked instead. “You seem really into the music.”

Taking a moment to think, Yuuri tried to verbalise his answer. He reflected long and hard, recalling his train of thought and emotions as he danced on the ice. “I guess I just grew up learning it. It became second nature to me. But I actively try to block out the arena, and to focus on telling a story with my movement? If that makes sense?”

Yuri scrunched his nose and scowled. “It doesn’t.”

“I’m sorry I can’t explain it better,” Yuuri apologised sincerely. “Everyone expresses themselves differently. I think it’s something that will naturally come with time and experience. I’m sure you’ll understand it soon.”

The little boy seemed to consider Yuuri’s words seriously, spending a couple of seconds to digest his words. “Okay. Then why does your technical score suck?”

“Rude. They’re average. Kinda.”

“Precisely! You could do so much better!” Yuri insisted, and he looked personally offended at Yuuri’s average technical abilities. “Even I can do a quad salchow!”

“You can?” Yuuri didn’t mean for it to slip out, but the thought of this scrawny little boy doing one of the most advanced jumps surprised Yuuri. 

Yuri didn’t take it well, though, and scowled at Yuuri. “Yes. Everyone thinks I’m too young to compete but I’ve got more skill in my pinky than most people have in their entire bodies! They think I’m some sort of delicate kid but I’m not!”

Resisting the urge to laugh, Yuuri tried to see things from Yuri’s point of view. “You’ve been skating long?”

“Since I could walk,” Yuri bragged. “I’m the best skater in my age group, and once I’m old enough, I’m going to be coached by Yakov Feltsman and I’m going to win so many gold medals no one will remember Viktor’s name.”

Yuuri sighed. “I wish I could do that. It’s so annoying, constantly being compared to Viktor. I can’t do anything without people mentioning his stupid name.”

“You think you have it bad?” Yuri scoffed. “I’m Russian, and my name is Yuri. I’ve barely skated internationally and already my coaches are drawing comparisons!”

Wincing, Yuuri placed a hand on Yuri’s shoulder. “Sorry about that. It must really suck.”

“It does.” Yuri pouted, and for a second, his tough, fierce demeanour seemed to fade away, replaced by a petulant child. 

When it was clear Yuri wasn’t going to comment any further, Yuuri carried the conversation instead. “Are you a danseur too?”

“Yes,” Yuri replied. 

“When did you start?”

“When I was six,” Yuri replied. 

Oh. “That’s nice. You started dancing after you started skating?”

Yuri blushed a little, just pink hue dusting his cheeks, but it was immediately distracted by his scowl. “Yeah, so? You skated after you danced. What’s the big deal?”

Raising his arms in surrender, Yuuri replied, “Nothing. It’s completely fine.”

The two Yuris stood in silence for a little while longer. He took the silence to check his phone, and Yuuri realised it was almost time for him to meet Madame Baranovskaya. “I’ve got to go. It was nice meeting you.”

Yuri grumbled something in response, a little too soft for Yuuri to hear, but he smiled at the boy. “Oh, and if you’re free, could you teach me a quad salchow? It would mean a lot to me.”

Yuuri was afraid Yuri would decline, judging from the disgusted look on his face, but to his surprise, the boy nodded, blonde hair falling into his eyes. “Okay.”

“Thank you, Yuri.”

“You absolutely suck. How did you even get silver?

Yuuri was panting as he rested against the side of the rink, exhausted from a day’s worth of dancing and a night’s worth of jumps. “My presentation score,” he gasped out. 

“Tch.” Little Yuri might look harmless, but the number of insults he hurled at Yuuri made him wonder where he was picking up his English vocabulary from. “You’re jumping like this, but you need to do it better.”

“Really descriptive.”

“Shut up!”

“Just-” Yuuri jerked back, frustration lacing his voice at his inability to complete a jump the boy had already mastered. “Show me again? Please?”

It took three hours before Yuuri landed a quad salchow, and even then he had two-footed the landing. But that was progress. 

“Why are you smiling? You still failed.”

“But I failed less!”

“That’s so stupid, idiot.”

Yuuri grinned at Yuri, and when he skated over, he lowered his head in a small bow. “Thank you, Yuri-kun, for agreeing to teach me.”

Yuri was silent for a while. “You don’t treat me like a child. Like everyone else does.”

A rather odd statement to reply with, but Yuuri didn’t comment. “You’re pretty scary. I don’t really see you as a child. And after watching you skate, I think you’re right. You will beat Viktor one day.” 

Yuri’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he hastily looked away and scoffed. “You still suck. Go try the quad salchow again.”

Groaning, Yuuri turned around and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 

“I thought I told you no skating?” Madame Baranovskaya’s cold voice made Yuuri’s room even colder. 

“I wasn’t skating,” came Yuuri’s bold-faced lie, half mumbled into his drool-stained pillow. 

“Tch.”

“You sound like Yuri.”

“I’ll be keeping your skates. You won’t be skating for another two weeks.”

“I’m too sleep deprived to even be upset right now.”

“Can’t believe Japan’s Ace got his skates confiscated,” Yuri mocked, sitting next to Yuuri as they warmed up. Though Yuuri was in the advanced class and Yuri still a novice, Madame Baranovskaya used Yuuri as an example for the junior classes, just to keep him busy, he assumed. 

“Yeah yeah. I’m still a better dancer,” Yuuri retorted, rather childishly. 

Yuri growled with all the intimidation of a small woodland creature. “Is that a challenge?”

“…Do you want it to be?”

“Okay, look, Yuri, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t talk to me, asshole!”

“-You suck at breakdancing.”

Yuri turned around to glare at Yuuri, and Yuuri faltered at the seething rage in the boy. “I demand a rematch!”

“You’re just going to lose-”

“We’ll have Madame Baranovskaya judge it! If I win, you choreograph my junior debut!”

Yuuri hesitated. “I’ve never choreographed my own performances before.”

“Too bad! That’s my end of the deal! Now, if you win, you get something too.”

Thinking about it, Yuuri thought about what Yuri could offer. “If I win, you teach me enough Russian to not die here.”

Sticking his hand out, Yuri nodded. “Done.”

“I am not judging your stupid little competition.”

“Please, Madame, it’s for a good cause.”

“Minako said you were well behaved. This isn’t well behaviour.”

“Whatever. We can just get someone else to judge us. We all know I’m going to win anyway, loser!”

“Yeah, right, Plisetsky. Or should I say, P-loser.”

“You need to work on your trash talk, Yuuri.”

“Yes, Madame.”

“Eat shit you little gremlin.” 

“Fuck off! You suck! The judges were rigged!”

“If you didn’t call us assholes daily maybe we’d be nicer to you,” Mila retorted. 

“Assholes!”

“Yuri, did you not hear what they just said?”

“I’ll still choreograph your debut if you want,” Yuuri said as a means of maintaining their relationship. Though he only knew Yuri for a couple of days, he was already attached to the boy. 

“Thank you,” he spat, making it sound like an insult. “I guess we’d have to meet often to teach you Russian.”

Yuuri shrugged. “I guess.”

“I get to choose where we go for dinner. And your first word is Мудак.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means ‘asshole’.”

“He seems scary,” Phichit said over Skype. 

“He’s nice under all that angst. Though he is very angsty for someone so small.”

“I’m glad you’re making friends, though. Even if it’s with children with anger management issues.”

“Baby steps, Phichit.”

Chapter Text

Even though it was a sunny Saturday (which were few and far between in St Petersburg), the two Yuris were at the rink indoors. Yuri kept tripping over his skates as he tried to learn Yuuri’s choreography for him, and Yuuri kept falling as he tried to perfect his quad salchow. Between salchows, Yuuri attempted the lutz, practicing his toe loop every so often as well. 

He had never dared to touch the quad loop, much less a quad flip. 

He also only tried a quad axel when he knew Yuri wasn’t looking. The fact that the jump was easy to spot, even to the untrained eye, and that Yuri would immediately know what Yuuri was trying to do deterred Yuuri from attempting it in front of the boy. 

“I can’t do it!” Yuri yelled, kicking the ice. “I hate this!”

“Me at math,” Yuuri gasped, catching his breath as he replied. 

“This is so stupid!” Ignoring Yuuri, Yuri huffed as he skated over to the side of the rink. “Why did you make it like this? It’s impossible!”

“I can do it,” Yuuri retorted, straightening up. “And you will too. After all, don’t you want to be better than Viktor? Won’t it be awesome to have a senior-level step sequence in your junior debut?”

Yuri grumbled in response, throwing a couple of Russian curses at Yuuri as he did. “You better choreograph my senior debut too, then.”

Putting a finger to his chin, Yuuri smiled cheekily at Yuri, replying, “If you actually beat me at a dance-off, I might consider.”

“Stop looking so smug, you pathetic loser of a skater who can only do one quad!”

It had been two weeks after Yuuri had gotten his skates back, but he had yet to master a quad salchow. No matter how hard he tried, how much he pushed himself, he always seemed to two-foot the landing, or stumble and catch himself with his hands if he managed to even score a proper landing. 

Bitterness always tinted Yuuri’s emotions whenever he saw the young boy do it with such effortless grace, but he forced himself to push those thoughts aside before trying again. He will get it with time, he reminded himself. All he needed was practice.

It didn’t help that he was often tired from a vigorous day of ballet camp. He wasn’t even sure if he was in the actual camp anymore, or if Lilia had just been giving him random tasks to do to keep him busy. He noticed that he often stayed back later than the other dancers at the studio, and this time not of his own accord.

But he had Yuri to keep him company, so it was never too lonely. Whenever Lilia had her back turned, they would go through Yuri’s choreography, changing steps and sequences whenever Yuuri saw fit. He tried to make his choreography reflect the vibrant and fierce personality of the young boy, but made it quiet and gentle enough to pose a challenge that Yuri could work on in the years to come. There was still a long time before Yuri could compete in his juniors, and Yuuri knew by then he would master the choreography and make it his own.

Though Yuri had the advantage of time, Yuuri wasn’t quite as fortunate. Between ballet and passing out from exhaustion, Yuuri was aware of the weeks passing by. He was determined to land a quad salchow before heading back to America, for he knew Ciao Ciao wouldn’t designate much time to train him on his quads. For some reason, Ciao Ciao maintained that a quad toe loop was enough for Yuuri for the time being, though Yuuri vehemently disagreed.

Yuuri skated backwards, gaining speed for another jump, and the moment he took off, he knew he wouldn’t land it.

His hip hurt as he scraped himself off the ice, but he stood up again and continued skating. 

“I’m tired,” Yuri complained, picking up his phone from the edge of the rink. Yuuri was instantly reminded of Phichit, and he made a mental note to Skype his best friend later that night. “Let’s go for dinner.”

“I can’t eat out today, I’m trying to ration my pocket money,” Yuuri answered. “You can go ahead. I’ll cook my own dinner.”

“You cook?” Typing on his phone, Yuri barely paid any attention to the other skater.

“A couple of dishes.”

“I want to try some!” He demanded, still texting on his phone. “Cook your favourite dish for me and I’ll judge it.”

“What the heck is this?”

“Katsudon, you uncultured swine.”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

Yuri, despite his initial outburst at the dish, shoveled another spoonful into his mouth. “I want to eat this every night from now on!”

“I’m not sure how healthy that is. I can cook other things though.”

“Like what?”

“Have you tried laksa?”

“He tried to kill me!”

“I did not!”

“I was poisoned!”

“Just because you consider ketchup spicy doesn’t mean I tried to kill you!”

Lilia sighed and rubbed her temples. Her two top students had burst into her studio, in front of her intermediate class, and made a ruckus whilst 20 or so startled preteens looked on. “Next time you try to kill him, Yuuri, please ensure you actually succeed.”

Yuri scowled and stormed towards Lilia, waving his arms to make him seem taller. “Hello? I am your most promising student! Your prima ballerina! You can’t kill me!”

“If you do not leave my studio immediately, I will.”

“Try not to look so constipated the next time you land.”

Yuuri growled in annoyance, resisting the urge to kick his toepick into the ice. Whilst he finally managed to land the quad salchow, his landings were inconsistent, and when he did land, they were shaky and unstable. Nothing like Yuri’s solid, graceful landings Yuuri tried to emulate with little success. Yuuri scowled as he kicked himself off the ice for the nth time that evening.

Yuri, on the other hand, was still struggling with the choreography. Yuuri had purposefully made it intricate and complicated, difficult for even senior skaters, but he had every ounce of faith Yuri would be able to learn it fully. After all, he had three more years.

“I’m hungry. Cook something for me,” Yuri demanded, collapsing onto the bleachers.

“Why don’t you cook this time?” Tired, disappointed, and upset from his lack of progress, all Yuuri wanted to do was to go home and sleep. It didn't even have to be on his bed - the wooden floor would have sufficed.

When Yuri’s usual snarky response didn’t come, Yuuri looked over toward the boy. He was surprised to find him deep in thought, as if he was actually considering cooking for them.

Yuuri’s eyebrows raised when Yuri said “Okay”, before starting to unlace his skates. “We need flour and eggs.”

“This is really good.”

“I know right?”

“Next time just try not to set the kitchen on fire.”

Yuri scowled. “Do you want your piroshki or not?”

Yuuri took another bite instead of answering. “Teach me how to make this.”

“No! It’s my grandpa’s secret recipe.”

“Alright. I challenge you to another dance-off.”

Silence took over the conversation as Yuri tried not to take the bait. He failed. “Fine! But if I win, you teach me how to cook katsudon.”

“Deal.”

“And I want to choose the genre of dance this time!” Yuri demanded, pointing a finger at Yuuri.

“Fine by me.”

“I HATE YOU!”

“Save the salt for the piroshki, Yura.”

“WHERE DID YOU EVEN LEARN HIP-HOP?”

“There are some skills one picks up in America.”

The dance battle took place in front of the school, very much in public, and everyone walking by had stopped to watch Lilia’s most talented students throw it down to Rihanna. 

Mila stood by the side, filming everything on her phone. She cackled as he uploaded it to Instagram.

Katsuki Yuuri seen at Baranovskaya Ballet Academy, Russia, hosting a dance battle against children attending the school.

Multiple videos of Japan’s Ace breakdancing went viral after they were uploaded online, with the most viewed video by @milaskates on Instagram. The videos show the Rising Star shredding it outside the prestigious school of ballet in Moscow, seemingly in a competition with a small child that attends the school. 

Rumours have begun circulating on Katsuki’s presence in Russia. Some speculate that Katsuki was there to seek a better coach than Cialdini that could help him defeat Viktor Nikiforov, and others say that he was there to spy on Russian skaters and learn their methods of training before the new season.

All of them are stupid, because he was seen in Moscow, not St Petersburg, and he was attending a ballet school. Nonetheless, we await an official statement from either Katuski or his coach with an explanation as to what business he had to take care of in Russia, and why he was dancing with children outside Baranovskaya Ballet Academy.

Babe <3 [02:00]

YUURI WAJSHFJDJFGHGJHFJHGFJ

YUUUURRIIIII

WHY ARE YOU CHALLENGING ELEMENTARY SCHOOL KIDS AT DANCE OFFS 

YUUURRIII

OH IS THAT OTHER YURI????

HE IS MUCH SMALLER THAN I THOUGHT HE WAS 

Yuuru [02:02]

I won!!! Are you proud?

Babe <3 [02:03]

He’s FOUR

“I can’t believe the summer is almost over,” Yuuri said, sharing the piroshki he made with Yuri. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Sticking his tongue out, Yuri snatched the piroshki from Yuri’s hands. “Stop being gross. You won’t miss me when I beat you in seniors.”

Yuuri hummed non-committedly. “You can try.”

Taking a bite of his piroshki, Yuri changed the topic. “This still tastes weird. Can’t believe you put rice in this.”

“You’re still eating it.”

“I’m a broke student, Katsudon. I’d eat anything.”

They were sitting outside the school, on the steps leading up to the entrance, on a slightly less miserable evening. Students had long gone, leaving only the two Yuris who lived with Madame Baranovskaya behind. 

“I’ve learned a lot from you this summer,” Yuuri said, taking another bite.

“Your quad salchow can almost be passable now,” Yuri muttered. “I learned a lot from you too,” he admitted, even quieter. 

Yuuri pretended not to hear - it was what Yuri would’ve wanted - but he smiled when he pointedly looked in the other direction.

“Oh my god I never thought I’d miss a rice cooker this much.”

“You miss a kitchen utensil and not your best friend?”

“I miss you too. Just a little less.”

“You wound me.”

As he watched Phichit practice his twizzles at the other end of the rink, he smiled at the comfort and familiarity of sharing a coach with him once more. In the few months Yuuri was gone, he didn’t realise how much Phichit had changed. The little boy who skated for fun had now grown into a young man, more serious and dedicated to achieving his goals. Of course, Phichit still made time to be silly with Yuuri, and to enjoy his childhood in general, but when Yuuri saw his phone tucked into his duffel bag instead of sitting on the side of the rink, Yuuri knew he had matured since they last skated together. 

“Ciao Ciao taught me a triple toe loop,” Phichit said after practice. “I want to learn the triple axel, but he won’t let me.”

Yuuri grinned at him. “That’s my specialty. I’ll teach you.”

“I was thinking,” Phichit continued, unlacing his skates. “Maybe when I learn a triple axel, you can learn a quad axel.”

“Maybe I should just focus on the quads that currently exist,” Yuuri joked back, but it was hard to miss the dissapointment in his tone. 

“It would be cool as heck, though,” Phichit said. “Katsuki Yuuri, Japan’s Ace, rewrites history and lands the first ever quad axel.”

“In my dreams.”

“Someone once told me that dreams can come true if you work hard enough.”

“Where did you even manage to learn a quad salchow? I sent you to ballet camp!”

“Ballet has progressed a lot these few years.”

Yuuri was in the rink, dancing as he warmed up for the day. Phichit was on the opposite end, figuring out the choreography for his programme. He has complained that it was much less fun than their exhibition skate last season, but they were figure skaters, not pair skaters. 

As Phichit took off on the ice again, he spun so quickly he became a blur, before hitting the ice wrong and sliding across it. “SHIT. I’m okay!”

“I was thinking about choreographing my own programme this season,” Yuuri told Ciao Ciao. “I got some ideas in mind.”

Ciao Ciao looked at Yuuri skeptically, but as he took in Yuuri’s earnest expression, he gave in. He trusted Yuuri, and that was less work for him anyway. “If you’re sure.”

“You’re the best! Thanks, Da - Ciao Ciao!” 

“Yayyy, now that we’re both doing musicals, Ciao Ciao can’t be mad at me anymore!”

“I’m not entirely sure Swan Lake counts as a musical?”

“Whatever.”

“Hey. Do you want to do our exhibition skates together again this season?”

“It’s 3am, Phichit.”

Ignoring Yuuri, he snuggled closer, resting his head on Yuuri’s arm. Yuuri tended to hog the blankets. “I mean, we each have one. That’s two whole performances.”

“Go to sleep, Phichit.”

“Kids, please, just focus on your programmes. Your exhibition skate is not the main worry.”

“Come on, Ciao Ciao, we never do anything fun.”

“Your programme is literally to your favourite musical!”

“…Besides that.”

Ciao Ciao growled at Phichit as he set the table. The Thai boy was stirring the pasta sauce in the pan as Yuuri boiled water for the spaghetti. “Come on, Ciao Ciao. Phichit and I will only work on it on the weekends, how does that sound?”

“It sounds like a horrible idea.”

Yuuri glared at Ciao Ciao, keeping eye contact as he snapped the spaghetti in half before putting it into the pot. 

Even though Ciao Ciao did work on Phichit more than Yuuri was used to, he didn’t find himself too uncomfortable with the free time. 

As he worked in his own corner of the rink, he inhaled deeply before using all his might to jump as high as he could. 

He still fell, but he got up again quickly. His quad axel wasn’t coming along well. 

Okay. He lied. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Ciao Ciao to spend time on Phichit - this was his junior debut, his time to shine. Yuuri didn’t want to take it away from him. 

But as he practiced in his own corner of the rink, feeling a little neglected, he didn’t know how to mention it without feeling guilty. He’s already had Ciao Ciao’s undivided attention for years. Surely, he can share it with his best friend. 

He watched as Ciao Ciao cheered Phichit when he landed. He threw himself into perfecting his step sequence. 

“Katsuki Yuuri! What will your theme be for this season?”

Yuuri wasn’t wearing his glasses, which was good for ignoring the blinding lights of camera flashes going off, because it gave him a reason to squint. “My theme will be ‘изящный’,” he replied, mimicking Lilia’s accent as he said it. 

The reporter was silent for a few seconds. “Uhh… what does that mean?”

“Elegance.”

If there was one thing angst was good for, it was for expressing himself on the ice. 

As he glided across the ice, imitating a dying swan, he channeled all his grief and heartache (okay, he was exaggerating a bit. Or a lot). He truly portrayed the heart-wrenching story of Odette as his own, adding his own unique choreography to the iconic theme. 

He sat at the kiss and cry, knowing he would have the highest score at Nationals. He did not expect, however, to set a new personal best. 

Stepping out onto the ice, he forced himself to get into the right mindset for his free skate. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to picture the blue eyes that had him enamoured for so long. 

He danced to a lesser-known ballad from the Romeo and Juliet ballet. He pictured himself as Juliet, calling out to Romeo on her balcony, loving him but knowing she could never have him for they were just too different, too far apart. 

He won gold. 

Chapter Text

Yuuri and Phichit cheered when they found out they would be participating at the Cup of China together for their second qualifying event. Before that, Yuuri would be at the Gran Premio d'Italia whilst Phichit would be at the Internationaux de France a week later. The two competitions were barely a week apart, so it was a good thing they were both in Europe. Ciao Ciao could still be there to coach them both, much to their relief. 

Yuuri realised he wasn’t sharing any qualifying events with Viktor, much to his disappointment. He would see him at the Internationaux de France when Phichit competed, though, which was nice. He would also see Chris again at the Gran Premio d'Italia, and Georgi at the Cup of China. 

There were a lot of other older skaters competing, ones that Yuuri had never spoken to before, but Yuuri only focused on his friends. He was lucky he had one competing in every major competition. 

Yuuri smiled and opened his SNS with Chris, sending him a screenshot of their names and qualifying events together. 

Yuuru [12:23]

[image] see you in italy !!!

Bonjour [12:26]

See you there, under me on the podium ;)

“Hey Ciao Ciao, I was thinking of making some changes to my costume,” Yuuri said over dinner. 

“Alright?” 

“Is it legal to wear a tutu?”

[image of Yuuri in a white sparkling leotard, back turned to the camera]

katsulanont outfit change!!! catch his newest fit in italy 

christopheg damn look at that ass

ollieonice looking good! maybe you two should get separate insta accounts since you guys are now distinguished skaters?

katsulanont who gets custody over this account??? 

[image of Phichit in his final pose at Thai Nationals]

phichit+chu my first (official) account baby!!!! @katsuki_yuuri  got custody of katsulanont cause he doesn’t post anyway 

katsuki_yuuri i do sometimes

christopheg i’m sorry to hear about your divorce 

“What’s up Katsuki!”

“Giacometti,” Yuuri greeted, laughing as he pulled Chris into a hug. 

“Now that you’re sixteen, we need to go drinking after the competition.”

“…what’s the legal age here?”

“Eighteen.”

Yuuri was in the warm up room, pulling a tutu over his leotard as he tried to ignore the stares of the other skaters. 

Chris whistled, playing with the hem of the skirt. “Won’t this affect your jumps?”

“Maybe, but it looks cool.”

“I won’t disagree.”

At the top of the podium, Yuuri grinned at the cameras, flashing his medal. He had exchanged his sparkly tutu to a more muted blue costume for his free skate, mimicking the type of fashion Juliet would wear. It wasn’t a full length dress, of course, and he had a pair of dress pants on as per normal, but the blouse was distinctly feminine, as Yuuri had planned it to be. 

“Where’s your coach?” Chris asked, looking over at the sidelines. “And your little sidekick?”

“They’re in France. His competition is in four days - they left as soon as I hit the ice today.”

Chris whistled through his teeth, looking sympathetic. “Didn’t even wait for your results?”

“As if there were any doubt where I’d be standing now,” Yuuri teased, winking at Chris. 

Paris was a nice city. The people were kinda rude, but in a more sophisticated way than in America. Yuuri was used to it by now, and he had no qualms navigating the city alone without speaking french. 

Yuuri checked into the hotel in the middle of the afternoon, so Phichit and Ciao Ciao would still be working hard at the rink for another couple of hours. Tired from his trip, Yuuri had decided to get some food before crashing in his room. 

As he waited for the elevator, he saw another young boy standing there alone, checking his phone. He didn’t look up when Yuuri approached, but Yuuri thought he recognised the husky printed phone cover. 

“Lee Seung-gil, right?” Yuuri asked, making the boy jerk a little before looking up. 

“Yes,” he replied curtly, keeping his phone. “How did you know?”

“You train with Ji-Hoon, right?” Even though Yuuri knew the answer, he smiled when Seung-gil nodded. “Are you competing in Juniors here?”

The elevator had arrived, and they both walked in. “Yes. I forgot my water bottle, so I had to go back and get it.”

Yuuri hummed in response, studying the boy. It had been a while since he had memorised the names of competitors his junior, back he realised he should start doing it again. “Well, it was very nice to meet you.”

Seung-gil nodded, holding the elevator door open for Yuuri as he stepped out. “Likewise. I really liked your performance in Italy.”

Before Yuuri could thank him, the young boy had already scurried away. 

After tossing and turning in his hotel bed, he realised he wasn’t tired enough to take a nap. So, pulling on his jacket and jeans, Yuuri made his way to the rink, planning to find Ciao Ciao and Phichit. 

Once he asked for directions to the rink at the reception, he thanked the lady before finding his way. The hotel was close to the rink of course, and Yuuri followed her instructions, but he couldn’t seem to find the building. 

It’s a whole ass rink, Yuuri thought to himself. How can I not see it?

He walked past the same traffic light for the third time before he heard someone call his name. 

Turning around, Yuuri tried to find the source of the voice when he saw a head of silver hair run toward him. 

Viktor was smiling widely as he approached Yuuri, slowing slightly as he got closer. “What a nice surprise! I didn’t think you’d be here so soon considering you just finished your competition in Italy.”

Yuuri nodded, a little dazedly. Were he and Viktor friends? He didn’t think so. Maybe they were acquaintances at best. But the way Viktor ran up to him and said his name so sweetly made Yuuri wish they were. “I’m here to support Phichit.”

“Of course!” Viktor’s face lit up, as if he had forgotten. “No wonder you sat alone at the Kiss and Cry. I was confused as to why I saw your coach around here when you were in Italy.”

Yuuri’s stomach fluttered when he realised Viktor had watched his first qualifying event, but his face fell when he realised of course Viktor would’ve watched it - they were competitors after all. He was probably just scoping out the competition. Or maybe he had been watching for Chris. There was no harm in asking, though. “You watched the competition?”

“I always do!” Yuuri’s hopes deflated completely, and he hated how disappointed he felt. It wasn’t as if Viktor would watch them just for Yuuri. “We held a watch party at the Petersburg rink. You were absolutely phenomenal. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.”

Viktor said that last bit with so much conviction Yuuri almost believed it for a second. His face flushed and he blinked at Viktor, too stunned to speak. He had only dreamed of hearing those words from him up till this point, but he never thought it was actually going to happen. 

“Yuuri? Are you alright?” Viktor asked, tilting his head to the side. 

“I’m fine! Perfectly fine!” Yuuri squeaked. “I uh, just wasn’t expecting that. Thank you, it means a lot to me.”

Viktor beamed at that, before looping his arm through Yuuri’s. “Come! You have to try this cafe around the corner, it has the best crepes!”

Incoherent and unable to form sentences yet, Yuuri just let himself be dragged around the streets of Paris. 

“Nice to know that as I was busting my ass off, you went on your first date,” Phichit muttered as Yuuri massaged his thighs for him. 

Yuuri turned red immediately, sputtering, “It wasn’t a date! We just… hung out.”

“He paid for your meal, he walked you back to the hotel. What was it supposed to be?”

“I - I don’t know,” Yuuri admitted, moving down to Phichit’s calves. “But it wasn’t a date!”

“Whatever you say,” Phichit chimed teasingly. 

“Boys, play nice,” Ciao Ciao intervened. 

“Thank you, Ciao Ciao.”

“Yuuri is sixteen now. He can go on dates if he wants to.”

“Ciao Ciao!”

“What did you guys even talk about?” Phichit asked.

“Just… His coach, his dog,” Yuuri recalled. “About his life, mostly.”

“Did you share anything?” Phichit pressed.

“Not much, I was too starstruck,” Yuuri replied sheepishly. “Besides, I would’ve probably screwed it up if I said something, so it was good I didn’t.”

In the corner of the room, Ciao Ciao pursed his lips and fiddled with his phone.

Yuuri followed his coach and best friend to the rink the next day, mentally slapping himself when he realised he had been walking in the completely wrong direction the day before. 

Upon entering, he realised that most other Junior competitors were already skating, including Seung-gil. Though Yuuri didn’t have a competition coming up for the next two weeks, he had agreed to help Phichit with his axels, so he put his skates on and entered the rink.

“Put in more strength when you jump.”

“Wow, outstanding advice, why didn’t I think of that revolutionary concept?”

“Shut up.” 

Phichit giggled as he picked himself off the floor. “I have a point! If you’re having trouble with your quad axel, just ‘put in more strength’, then.”

Scowling at Phichit, Yuuri swatted his shoulder, which Phichit skillfully dodged. Then, as if to prove his point, Yuuri skated and prepared to take off for a jump. 

He was half a revolution short, and as he skidded across the ice at an awkward angle, Phichit clutched his stomach as he laughed. 

“Whatever,” Yuuri muttered as he pushed himself up. Brushing off the fall, he tried again, determined to prove Phichit wrong. “I’ll get it someday.”

“And I need to get my triple axel by this afternoon,” Phichit replied, skating by. “Stop being extra and help me.”

Celestino had left his two boys to take care of each other as he met Yakov Feltsman in a secluded corner of the building.

“I think it would be best if Viktor keeps his distance from Yuuri,” Celestino confessed carefully.

“I agree.”

Celestino didn’t expect that, but he tried not to let his surprise show. “I would hate for Yuuri to get distracted.” Or even worse, get his heart broken by a careless, flighty teenager Yuuri had idolised since he was a child and will continue to compete against for years to come.”

“Likewise.”

Celestino tried to figure out Yakov’s thoughts, but his face was hard and impassive, a stark contrast from his exuberant and expressive student. “I’m glad we have an agreement.”

Yakov grunted before turning to leave, leaving Celestino alone to wonder if he had made the right decision for his boys.

Yuuri made sure Phichit was sound asleep before tiptoeing over to the other side of their room. It was the morning of his short programme, and Yuuri was determined to let Phichit rest as much as possible before his big day. 

Opening his suitcase silently, he pulled out his glue stick and paper cutouts he had prepared on the train ride to Paris. He was careful not to let Phichit see the banner he had prepared. 

Yuuri got a front row seat, being a figure skater himself, and he was waving his banner and yelling Phichit’s name as the skaters entered the rinks for warmups. When Phichit saw Yuuri holding a banner with a giant picture of his face, he doubled over laughing, almost falling onto the ice and tripping another skater over.

From the side of the rink, Ciao Ciao took a picture of Phichit’s reaction, followed by Yuuri’s banner.

As the opening chords to The King and The Skater rang in the arena, Yuuri watched Phichit intently. The young boy Yuuri had impulse bought hamsters for was now skating with the grace and maturity of a grown up. Joy radiated from Phichit, even in the serious circumstances of the competition. His outgoing and bubbly personality really shone through that day, winning over the hearts of audiences and charming everyone around him easily. His eagerness, confidence and youthful joy were the traits that he wanted to emphasise, and his personality and charm leaked out even as he danced on the ice. 

When he struck his final pose, Yuuri stood up and clapped, cheering the loudest of everyone there.

“You did so well Phichit!” Yuuri cried as he hugged Phichit tightly.

Wrapping his arms around Yuuri, Phichit hugged him back even tighter. “Thanks! What’s wrong with your voice?”

“I think I screamed too loud.”

“Aw, thank you!”

Japan’s Ace Katsuki Yuuri seen at the Internationaux de France as a spectator, cheering on rinkmate Phichit Chulanont.

[image of Yuuri holding the banner, smiling wide as he yelled Phichit’s name]

Rising Star Katsuki Yuuri was seen supporting his rinkmate Phichit Chulanont at the Internationaux de France Junior competition earlier, holding a handmade banner and yelling his name. This mirrored the banner Chulanont had prepared for Katsuki last season, for his senior debut. 

Chulanont and Katsuki share a coach, and Celestino Cialdini finds himself splitting his time between two competing skaters this season, though by the looks of it, they are getting along just fine. Despite the Gran Premio d'Italia ending just a few days ago, Katsuki had already made his way to Paris to cheer his rinkmate on. Fans were worried when Katsuki sat alone at the Kiss and Cry as he received the results for his first qualifying event, but it seems that the young skater does not mind his coach’s early absence to prepare his rinkmate for his own competition.

Katsuki and Chulanont have made their close friendship known to everyone by constantly posting about each other in the media, even sharing a joint Instagram account up till the start of the season. Chulanont even joined Katsuki in his exhibition skate at the World Championships last season, skating to the soundtrack from the movie The King and The Skater, which is also the theme of Chulanont’s Junior debut. He has often mentioned that it is his favourite film, but he truly showed his devotion to the movie by skating to three of its songs. 

Fans of Katsuki are also fond of Chulanont, and they seem to be inseparable. In fact, some speculate that they are in a romantic relationship, despite a three year age gap, and they call their unconfirmed relationship by their old Instagram handle, ‘Katsulanont’.

Follow for more figure skating news!

[image of Phichit mid jump, a blur of red]

[image of Phichit dancing on the ice, face serene]

[image of Phichit’s name in third place on the scoreboard]

[selfie of Yuuri with the banner]

386 likes

katsuki_yuuri my best friend!!!!!!!! @phichit+chu was amazing today!!! I’m so proud of you!!!!!! <333333

phichit+chu thanks mom

After his free skate, Phichit placed an overall fourth. He was only three points below third place, but instead of being upset like Yuuri feared he would, Phichit was ecstatic.

“Fourth!” He cried, jumping on the bed. “Fourth on my first ever competition! And next competition, third! And then second and first and gold!”

Yuuri laughed, watching Phichit freak out from the comfort of his own bed across the room. “Congratulations Phichit-kun!”

“Woo! I’m so happy! We need to celebrate!”

“We could go sightseeing,” Ciao Ciao suggested.

“Or,” Yuuri supplied, “ we can order some takeaway and rewatch The King and The Skater.”

“I love you, Yuuri! We can sightsee tomorrow! I want some pad thai.”

As Yuuri walked to the lobby to pick up the food from the hotel reception, he saw a head of silver hair out of the corner of his eye.

Still giddy from Phichit’s success, Yuuri didn’t think twice about calling “Viktor!”

When Viktor looked over to Yuuri, Yuuri waved excitedly, smiling and gesturing to Viktor to come over. His heart fell when instead, Viktor turned his head and walked away, leaving Yuuri wondering what he did wrong.

Yuuri didn’t bring his concerns up to Phichit that night, though. That night was all about Phichit and his success, and he didn’t want to spoil the mood. 

He pushed the memory from his mind and forced himself to forget it for the time being. Phichit deserved to have a carefree night, and Yuuri was determined to deliver.

Viktor could wait till the morning. 

Yuuri and Phichit sat on their luggages as Ciao Ciao checked out for all three of them. They people watched and gossiped about the strangers passing by, guessing their life story as if they were Sherlock Holmes.

“He’s secretly a CIA agent. You can tell from his smart suit and the fact that he keeps checking his watch. It’s probably some high tech walkie talkie.”

“Or he’s a businessman who’s late?” Yuuri guessed. “I don’t think CIA agents wear tuxedos.”

“Oh! How about him?”

“The man with the red shoes? Definitely gay.”

“No, him,” Phichit corrected, nodding his head in the direction of the entrance.

Yuuri turned and almost fell out of his seat when he saw Viktor Nikiforov enter. He cursed at Phichit as he laughed loudly, clutching his stomach and almost falling off his own luggage as well.

Last night’s events replayed in Yuuri’s mind, and he was determined to talk to Viktor. They had gone out as friends once, so why was Viktor ignoring him now?

Hopping off his luggage, Yuuri walked over to Viktor. He faltered a little when he saw Viktor send him a panicked expression, but he took a deep breath and surged forward. He didn’t want to be on bad terms with Viktor, and he was determined to find out what he had done wrong.

“Viktor?” Yuuri asked tentatively. Viktor jumped a little at the sound of his name, and he would not meet Yuuri’s eyes. His usual bright blue eyes seemed more dull than usual, and as they flitted around in a slight panic, Yuuri found himself increasingly concerned. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine! Perfect!” He replied, a little too cheerful. “Uh, I don’t think we should do this.”

Yuuri’s heart stopped. The joy he had felt with Phichit earlier, the concern he had for Viktor, everything he felt evaporated at Viktor’s words. He was thrusted into a state of numbing panic as he digested what he heard. “Uh, we shouldn’t… talk?”

“Be friends,” Viktor supplied, looking at the floor. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, we’re rivals, right? Rivals aren’t supposed to like each other.”

The room seemed so far away, Yuuri wasn’t even sure he was in it anymore. All he could focus on was Viktor, and even he became a little blurry at the edges. Yuuri felt cold, and too warm, and his chest was tight and his stomach was lurching. 

Yuuri didn’t know how long he remained silent for, but Viktor eventually looked up to meet his eyes. “Yuuri?”

“Yuuri!” Ciao Ciao called as he ran over, standing between Yuuri and Viktor. Without the sight of Viktor, Yuuri was sent into an even deeper panic. “Yuuri, breathe with me.”

Ciao Ciao placed Yuuri’s hands onto his chest, exaggerating his breathing to help Yuuri. Phichit stood to the side, watching everything unfold, slightly terrified, as Viktor watched on helplessly.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, blue eyes wide as he tried to step towards Yuuri. “I didn’t know he would react like that.”

“Twenty years old and still so naive,” Ciao Ciao grumbled, causing Viktor to wince. He swatted Viktor’s hand away when he reached towards Yuuri, and even someone as dense as Viktor knew he wasn’t wanted. 

As he turned to walk away, he was met with the fierce and accusing eyes of Phichit Chulanont. His face was set in a scowl, and he glared at Viktor with the intensity of a laser. 

Viktor hung his head as he walked out of the lobby, casting one last glance at Yuuri sniffling into his coach’s jacket.

“I hate you!” He yelled at Yakov, wiping tears away from his own eyes. “You said it was the right thing to do!”

“You will thank me when you’re older, Vitya,” Yakov responded, seemingly uncaring of Viktor’s breakdown.

“I won’t ever! I hate you so much!” Viktor sobbed. “You made me throw away my one true love!”

“You two are not in love!” Yakov scolded. 

“What would you know about love? Lilia left you!” Viktor turned, his hair whipping around behind him, and slammed the door in Yakov’s face. 

Yakov sighed and rubbed his temple, willing himself not to let the words bite. He knew it was the right thing to do for Vitya. He was too young, too immature, and Katsuki was too fragile. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Viktor harboured a crush on Katsuki ever since he joined the senior division. However, Viktor was too old for him, and between their age difference and rivalry, a relationship would cause a scandal that might cost them their careers.

And as much as he loved Viktor, he wasn’t ready for a relationship. Especially not one with someone as delicate as Katsuki. It hurt him to see Vitya upset, but it was simply what needed to be done.

Inside his room, Viktor crouched onto the floor and sobbed. He just destroyed his only chance with Yuuri, and it was going so well! They had even gone for a first date, and even though he was a little quiet, he was generally polite.

Yakov’s words that day wormed their way into his skull. 

“Vitya! Where have you been?” Yakov yelled as Viktor entered the rink, frappuccino in hand. “You’re two hours late!”

“So, funny story,” Viktor started, taking an obnoxiously loud sip from his straw. “I saw Yuuri looking lost - so cute -  and then we went for brunch.”

The vein in Yakov’s forehead looked ready to burst. “Vitya. Don’t coddle him like that. He is your biggest competitor.” 

Viktor threw his head back as he laughed. “Come on, Yakov. He’s so cute! So small! So talented! I want to bundle him up and kiss him!”

Yakov growled. “That’s a police report waiting to happen.”

“We’re only four years apart,” Viktor lamented. “And you always say I’m too immature for my age, and he seems so quiet and smart, so we’re practically the same age mentally!”

Before Yakov could reply, Viktor skated towards Georgi, sharing details about his date and fawning over Yuuri as Georgi sighed at the tale of romance. Yakov wondered how his two most promising skaters turned out to be such lovesick braindead idiots.

He had to stop it before it got too far. Viktor’s puppy love for Katsuki could only mean trouble, especially if Plisetsky was right, and Katsuki was obsessed with Viktor. That was not a real relationship if Katsuki only felt adoration. Between Katsuki’s anxiety and Viktor’s flamboyance, it would never work out. Neither of them were ready, and Yakov had to step in before they both got hurt.

Even Cialdini had agreed, reaching out to Yakov to discuss it of his own accord. Now, with Katsuki’s coach’s blessing, Yakov called Viktor over.

“Viktor,” Yakov had said. “I don’t want you to talk to Katsuki anymore.”

Viktor blinked at him before narrowing his eyes. “What? Why?”

“On your date, did Katsuki ever once talk about himself?” 

Taking a moment to think, Viktor placed a finger on his chin. “Yes. He spoke about his dog and his training.”

“No, Vitya, I mean, truly about himself. Or did he listen to you ramble on about your issues and your life?” Yakov knew he was being harsh, but he needed to be if he wanted Viktor to listen. The boy was as thick as the crust of the Earth, and he needed to be sharp to drill the concept into his head.

Viktor stared at the floor, his lack of reply telling Yakov everything he needed to know. “Did you listen to him at all during the date?”

“I asked him questions!” Viktor defended, glaring at Yakov. “He just redirected them back to me!”

“Maybe he isn’t interested then,” Yakov concluded, knowing it was not the case.

“Why would he ask me questions if he wasn’t interested?” Viktor demanded. 

“He was probably unwilling to share details about his life. If he didn’t want to open up to you, he probably doesn’t like you as much as you think he does.”

Crossing his arms, Viktor let out a huff. “He’s just shy! Who are you to tell me who I can and cannot date, anyway?”

Yakov clenched his jaw. This wasn’t going the way he wanted it to go. “I am your coach. And I can tell you this much, you’re much too inexperienced and immature to be dating anyone, Vitya. Much less someone you will have to face for the rest of your career. If you two break up, you’ll have to continue to meet him for years.”

“We won’t break up!”

“You’re too self-centered to guarantee that.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Yakov regretted it, wondering if it was too much. But Viktor glared at Yakov petulantly, unwilling to accept his words, so Yakov continued, a little more carefully. “He’s too young and too shy, and you’re too loud and bad at reading a situation. Your relationship will lack communication, and it will crumble and fall. I have nothing against Katsuki, except that he is your biggest rival and that only complicates things further. Once you guys have grown up and retired, feel free to start a relationship. But between the conflicts of interests, age gap, incompatible personalities, it is best to leave Katsuki alone.”

Viktor’s gaze shifted from rage to worry, and Yakov realised he should’ve toned it down. Still, Viktor protested, even on the verge of tears. “You’re my coach! You don’t have a say in my personal life!”

“No,” Yakov said softly. “But I am in charge of your professional life, and Katsuki is still your competitor. You cannot let those two lives interfere, Vitya.” Even though he didn’t show it, he cared a great deal for his students. He didn’t want Viktor to suffer the same fate he and Lilia did all those years ago. “Trust me Viktor. It’s all for the best.”

Sniffling, Viktor shook his head, not wanting to believe his coach.

Viktor forced himself to stand up and head to the bathroom. Wiping away his tears, he huffed in frustration as his hair constantly fell into his face.

He pulled at it, screaming at himself for ever believing Yakov was right about Yuuri not liking him. Seeing the way Yuuri looked at him, so torn, so heartbroken, made Viktor want to hit himself. It was because of him Yuuri was upset. He had caused Yuuri’s panic attack, for God’s sake.

He hated himself. He hated himself so much at that moment. And he hated how despite everything, Yakov had been right about something. He was too immature, too loud, too brash. If he had handled the situation more delicately, he could’ve avoided the whole thing.

Staring at his reflection, Viktor saw a young, adolescent boy staring back, eyes red and nose runny. Yakov said he needed to grow up. He needed to stop being the childish boy he saw in front of him. 

He didn’t think. He just snatched the scissors from his drawer, pulled his hair away from his face and cut.

As he stared at the lock of hair in his sink, Viktor started to cry harder. 

Chapter Text

Ciao Ciao was beginning to worry. Yuuri had locked himself in his room and refused to come out for three days now. Not only did he have the Cup of China to prepare for, but Ciao Ciao also didn't know what he was doing in his room, which worried Ciao Ciao immensely. 

Even Phichit wasn’t allowed into the room, so he had to sleep in his actual room for the first time in months. On the morning of the third day, Ciao Ciao knocked on his room door for what felt like the umpteenth time. 

“Yuuri?” He called. “I brought breakfast.”

Usually, Yuuri didn’t acknowledge Ciao Ciao’s attempts to get him out of the room. He would leave the plate of food in front of Yuuri’s door, and when he came back it would be empty. So, to Ciao Ciao’s great surprise, the sound of muffled footsteps could be heard through the door. 

When Yuuri opened the door, Ciao Ciao had never wanted to punch Viktor more in his life. His eyes were red and sunken behind his glasses, his hair oily and tangled. He wore the clothes he did when he got back from the airport, and his glasses were smudged and dirty. 

Glancing over Yuuri’s head, he looked into his room. 

The bed was messy, and there were pieces of tissue scattered across the floor. His suitcase sat in the corner of the room, unpacked, and his skating bag was thrown under his bed, neglected. 

More startlingly, the walls were bare. Pieces of tape and tack still stuck to the wall, probably ones that Yuuri couldn’t pull off, but other than that the walls remained as clean as the day they moved in. 

He didn’t even leave his medals hanging. He had taken everything down. 

“Oh, Yuuri.” Pulling Yuuri in for a hug, Ciao Ciao didn’t know what to say. His poor boy, going through so much for no good reason. He felt a little guilty, as if he was the one who had caused this, and in a way, he supposed he did. But he had asked Yakov to keep them apart specifically to avoid this, not to trigger it. 

Yuuri hugged Ciao Ciao tightly before pulling away, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “I need to get back to practice,” he muttered, staring up at Ciao Ciao. “I need to beat him and win and show him exactly who he’s dealing with.”

Raising his eyebrows, Ciao Ciao looked down at Yuuri, whose burst of courage had died, and who was looking at the floor once more. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of dislike towards Viktor.  

He knew Viktor wasn’t the one behind Yuuri’s heartbreak. His thoughts turned to Yakov, and his inattention in treating his skaters. He explicitly asked him to tell Viktor to stay away to prevent their heartbreak, not accelerate it. Though he suppose it was neither’s fault. Yakov couldn’t have been blamed for Viktor’s carelessness, he reminded himself. 

He sighed, rubbing his temples as he wondered what kind of mess he had gotten himself into. 

But as long as Yuuri was still willing to continue with his promising career, Ciao Ciao’s main job was to coach him. 

“I’ll see you at the rink in a half hour, Yuuri. I have no doubt you can bear him, if that’s what you want.” 

Yuuri sobbed so hard he ran out of tears. He clutched his pillow to his chest, using it to muffle the broken sounds escaping his throat.

Viktor didn’t want to be friends because they were rivals. If he wasn’t so torn he would’ve laughed at the irony. Yuuri had worked so hard to get to where he was now. Every bruise, every sprain, every night spent missing his family was all done because he wanted to skate on the same ice as Viktor.

When he was nine, he saw Viktor skate on the grainy TV and it changed his life forever. He had given up everything he had ever known for a chance to chase his dreams, to chase Viktor.

Only to have it torn away because of his own fault.

Who was he kidding? He could’ve never become Viktor’s friend. He had been holding onto this hope, ever since hearing Chris tell him how close they had gotten. He thought that maybe he could have that with Viktor too.

Why didn’t Viktor see Chris as a rival? They were all participating in the same competition, right? Yuuri choked on a sob as he wiped his nose. 

Maybe it was because Chris was a good enough friend to ignore the fact that he was a competitor too, Yuuri thought. Maybe he was too quiet during the tea they shared at the cafe, and Viktor decided not to be friends after all. 

Maybe Yuuri should’ve been more outgoing. He doubted Viktor would say the same thing if Phichit had been in Yuuri’s place. He had never minded his introvertedness before, but if that was the trait that was pushing Viktor away, Yuuri would change it for him.

His words rung in Yuuri’s head, a constant reminder. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, we’re rivals, right? Rivals aren’t supposed to like each other.”

The stupid fucking rivalry strikes again. Not only does it erode away at Yuuri’s confidence with every article from constantly being compared to someone he can never compete with, but it has caused his idol to dislike him enough to not want to be friends.

Was he using the rivalry as an excuse to mask his dislike? Or did he genuinely believe the rivalry was enough reason to hurt Yuuri the way he did? Yuuri didn’t know, and it was unlikely he would ever find out.

Either way, it was still Viktor’s fault. If he didn’t like Yuuri, he could’ve just admitted that, instead of bringing up the rivalry to hide his cowardice. And if he truly believed the rivalry was enough to stop being friends with Yuuri…

Yuuri screamed into his pillow before throwing it across the room. He didn’t deserve this. He had worked so hard to be worthy of skating on the same ice as Viktor, and it had backfired immensely. Yuuri could never be enough to be worthy of being seen as Viktor’s equal, but apparently he had worked too hard to be seen as Viktor’s friend. 

It was all Viktor’s fault. All his fans hate him, and every single figure skating news outlet had always pitted them against each other. It was foolish of Yuuri to ever think they could be more than rivals.

Without the pillow smothered in his face, Yuuri’s eyes were drawn to the obnoxiously large poster at the foot of his bed. 

Viktor stood there, smiling down at Yuuri, a sense of kindness in his expression that Yuuri knew to be fake. As Yuuri stared at it, he felt his hands shake. He seethed at the sight of Viktor looking down on him, reminding him once more of his inferiority. Yuuri stood up on his bed and gripped the edges of the poster.

The sound of tearing paper seemed to ricochet in the silence of his room.

He threw the dislodged half of the poster onto the floor, before tearing the other half that was still stuck onto the wall. Crouching down, he eyed the medals he had hung under the poster as well.

His four junior gold medals hung proudly, glinting in the sunlight. But Yuuri knew they didn’t mean anything. Gold was nothing if it wasn’t taken from Viktor himself. Until then, Yuuri would forever remain second best. 

Taking the medals off the wall, Yuuri threw them into his drawer and slammed it shut. He swore to himself to never hang another medal unless it was better than Viktor’s. 

If Viktor wanted to be rivals, Yuuri would hold him to that. Yuuri might not be able to be his friend, but Yuuri could still work to be his equal.

Why stop there? He wondered to himself. If Viktor wanted a rivalry, Yuuri couldn’t just stop at being equal. Yuuri had to be better.

Yuuri worked himself to the bone in the weeks leading up to the Cup of China.

When Yuuri found out he had set a new personal best for his short programme, he did not smile. Even as he stood on the tallest podium, his face remained stoic and passive. He knew this would not be a victory unless Viktor himself stood under him on the podium. 

He did, however, smile and cheer Phichit on when he competed right after Yuuri finished his free skate. He sat at the front row once more, waving the banner he had worked on as he yelled Phichit’s name. He wasn’t about to let Viktor ruin his friendships - he had already ruined too much of Yuuri’s life.

It was no surprise Yuuri made it into the finals. After all, he won gold in both qualifying competitions. They did, however, hold a celebratory dinner when it was announced that Phichit made it in, and that he would be competing against the very best of his age.

“Congrats, Phichit!” Ciao Ciao bellowed, loud enough for everyone in the rink to turn their heads and stare at the three of them.

“I’m so excited!” Phichit squealed. “I’m gonna meet so many cool people!”

Yuuri smiled as he congratulated his friend, genuinely proud of his accomplishment.

The GPF finals were set in Canada. As the time zones weren’t that different, the pair decided to stay in Detroit for as long as they could before driving to Toronto. 

“Let’s have karaoke!”

“Let’s not.”

“I have The King and The Skater saved on my phone!”

Ciao Ciao sighed. “There will still be two and a half hours left of the drive.”

“I have Hamilton,” Yuuri supplied. “And Phantom of the Opera.”

As Phichit cheered in the backseat, Ciao Ciao mentally prepared himself for the rest of the ride.

“We could totally do an exhibition skate to the Phantom of the Opera.”

“I like the way you think, Yuuri.”

“KIDS.”

By the time they arrived at the hotel, Phichit and Yuuri both had sore throats, and Ciao Ciao's right ear was constantly ringing. It didn’t matter, however, because they were not done with the Hamilton soundtrack and continued to sing as Ciao Ciao settled the paperwork.

Phichit sang (read: screeched) loudly, truly portraying the grief and heartbreak dramatised by a broadway solo, ignoring the looks he received from everyone around them. Then, stopping mid-belt, he turned to Yuuri and said, “I’m sorry for your breakup.”

Yuuri bristled, stiffening at the mention of the event. “We weren’t even dating. We were hardly friends. It was silly of me to be so upset.”

“Don’t invalidate your feelings, Yuuri. Even if you weren’t, your childhood idol was still a massive dick,” Phichit said, petting Yuuri on his back. Suddenly, he stilled, even pausing the music on their shared earpieces as his eyes focused on something across the room. “Are you sure it wasn’t a breakup? Viktor’s looking pretty bad. Not that he doesn’t deserve it.”

Before he could stop himself, Yuuri turned around, and an involuntary gasp left his throat. Viktor stood at the elevators, just about to exit by the looks of it, and what used to be his long, silky silver hair barely reached the tips of his ears. It was a dramatic change, and without the distraction of his hair, Viktor’s face became so much more prominent. 

Phichit was wrong. Viktor looked better than ever before. 

His short hair emphasised the sharp angles of his face that his long hair used to soften out. It made him look older, more masculine. Without his long hair, the broadness of his shoulders became more defined, and the blues of his eyes were illuminated as his fringe drew attention towards them.

Even though the bags under his eyes were heavy, and his face seemed paler and more sunken in, it didn’t draw away from Viktor’s iridescent beauty. Viktor looked like a snowflake, beautiful and intricate and ready to disappear once Yuuri gets too close. 

It wasn’t enough to break Yuuri’s heart. Viktor had to find every last fragment and crush it to dust. 

Viktor stood frozen in the elevator, like a deer caught in headlights. Behind him, his coach was grumbling about something, Georgi in tow, and he almost bumped into Viktor when he stopped walking.

Yuuri looked away quickly, instinctively reaching for Phichit’s hand for support. Without speaking, Phichit understood, squeezing Yuuri’s hand as he stepped closer. Luckily, at that exact moment, Ciao Ciao called them over, done with the registration for their rooms.

Yuuri didn’t dare look back at Viktor.

“Chris!” Viktor cried, face-planting onto his best friend’s bed. “He was there, Chris! And he was holding Phichit’s hand. I am too late!”

Chris stood by the bed, holding a box of tissues. “I doubt they’re romantically involved. But even so, I wasn’t aware you were dating Yuuri?”

Sniffling, Viktor filled Chris in on the latest news he missed.

“Oh dear.”

“‘Oh dear’ is right . I’ll never fall in love again!”

“This is… very messy.”

“I’d say,” Viktor huffed.

“Maybe you should apologise,” Chris suggested, shrugging. “I’m sure he’s quick to forgive.”

Burying his face in his hands, Viktor sighed. “I don’t know, Chris, he seemed really upset.”

“You’ll never know if you never try.”

Viktor pursed his lips. He didn’t think what he did was forgivable, but when he thought about the horrific fate of not talking to Yuuri ever again, he realised he had to do it. It would be a mature thing to do, right? He could show Yakov he was ready for a relationship.

He could work on himself for Yuuri. He can win him over again eventually. 

Viktor was willing to wait forever if it meant Yuuri would forgive him. 

“Fuck Viktor Nikiforov. And not in the sexy way, either.”

“You go, Yuuri.”

“Stupid Viktor,” Yuuri muttered, hugging his pillow tighter. “Stupid Viktor and his stupid words and his stupid face and his stupid hair.”

As he inhaled a shaky breath, Phichit prepared to feed him another spoonful of soup. “He is, in fact, very stupid. Well said.”

“Kids,” Ciao Ciao interrupted, sitting on the foot of their shared bed. “I need to apologise.”

Yuuri and Phichit blinked up at Ciao Ciao, confusion etched onto their faces. Ciao Ciao stared at them intently, more serious than they’ve ever seen him outside of practice. “What for?” Phichit finally asked.

Ciao Ciao inhaled. “I was the one who told Yakov to keep Viktor away from you. I thought he would be too distracting, and that he would prevent you from reaching your true potential. I think I might have caused the way he… ‘broke up’ with you, and I’m really, very sorry, Yuuri.”

Yuuri stayed silent for a moment, staring at Ciao Ciao with wide eyes, before sniffling even harder than he did before. “You told his coach to get him away from me?”

“Yes.”

“He never listens to Yakov! Why did he listen now?” Yuuri demanded, blinking his tears away. “It doesn’t make sense!”

Shifting closer to the boys, Ciao Ciao put a hand on Yuuri’s ankle. “I’ll talk to Yakov and fix it, Yuuri. I’m really, truly sorry.”

Taking a deep, staggering breath, Yuuri took a moment to arrange his thoughts. “It’s okay, Ciao Ciao. Thanks for telling me,” Yuuri mumbled, wiping his nose. “You only want the best for me. I know you did it because you thought it was the right thing to do.”

Ciao Ciao heaved a sigh of relief, smiling at his student. Putting the pillow aside, Yuuri crawled over to hug Ciao Ciao instead.

“Just because Yuuri is cool with it doesn’t mean I am,” Phichit chimed. “What the fuck, Ciao Ciao?”

Japan’s Ace up against Russia’s Living Legend in GPF Finals

Fans wait with bated breath as Katsuki Yuuri and Viktor Nikiforov are scheduled to compete in this season’s GPF Finals in Toronto, Canada. The skaters had both won two golds each in their qualifying competitions leading up to the finals, setting themselves apart as the two best skaters in the competition.

Viktor Nikiforov, often hailed as the Best Male Figure Skater in history, is already one of the most decorated figure skaters at the young age of 20. He’s the defending champion of the Grand Prix Finals, as well as the defending champion of the European Figure Skating Championship and World Championships last season. He is the only skater in history to have won gold in all three events in a single season. The current holder of four world records, Viktor Nikiforov has never missed the podium in his entire career, being one of the youngest skaters to join the senior division and take home a medal.

Another being Katsuki Yuuri. Sharing many similar accomplishments, Katsuki Yuuri had never missed a podium since his junior debut. With a pension for expressing himself on the ice, Katsuki has steadily gained fans and popularity since his junior debut, dutifully given the nickname Rising Star. Though he does not hold any world records, he has come close to breaking Nikiforovs, and many fans have drawn parallels between the two skaters. 

They are often portrayed as rivals in the media, with Katsuki fighting his hardest to steal Nikiforov’s spot on the podium. Nonetheless, neither party has made an official statement regarding the relationship with one another, so it is left purely to speculation and theories.

Despite the four-year age gap, many fans are quick to critique and compare the two as they are, pointing out Katsuki’s shortcomings.

Will our Rising Star knock the Living Legend down a pedestal? Or will Russia’s Living Legend remain at the top of the podium, the sport in a headlock in his arms?

Leave your comment down below!

@bananasalmon Viktor is untouchable!!!!!! Katsuki can never beat him lol :p

@jermytheworm im rooting for katsuki! he’s the only one keeping things interesting around here

@wendigo20 There is no way Katsuki could ever win against Viktor.

@kennnten katsuki cant even 4f bro

“Yuuri!” 

Yuuri froze at the sound of his name. He recognised that voice, and he immediately started spamming the button for the elevator doors to close. Unfortunately, before they could shut the whole way, a shoe stuck itself in between the doors, forcing them open again. 

Yuuri refused to look up at Viktor, resigned to stare at his polished shoes instead. 

“Yuuri, I'm so so so sorry,” Viktor started as the elevator doors shut

“It’s okay,” Yuuri whispered. “Ciao Ciao explained it.”

Viktor paused. “Explained what?”

“How he asked your coach to make sure you stay away,” Yuuri replied. Maybe Viktor didn’t get the full story either. “It was a big misunderstanding.”

“Oh,” Viktor said carefully. “Does this mean we can still be friends?”

Yuuri muttered, still bitter despite knowing better, “I don’t know, can rivals be friends?”

When Viktor didn’t reply, Yuuri felt a little bad for acting so accusatory. But he was mad. He was mad at Viktor for making him feel horrible, mad at himself for letting it affect him so much, mad at the media for dramatising his life and making it so much harder for him. 

“I would say so?” Viktor finally said, voice soft and unsure. 

The elevator doors opened then, and Yuuri made to step out. He didn’t know what to say to Viktor. He didn’t know if he should forgive him for something that was only partially his fault, or if he should let Viktor fester to fuel the rivalry everyone believes they have. 

“I guess we’ll see,” was what he decided to say, right before the elevator doors closed. 

As Yuuri laced his skates in preparation for the Grand Prix Finals short programme, he wished Ciao Ciao could accompany him instead of Phichit. It would’ve been nice to have him around, to have them both support him when he felt like crumbling, but Phichit was preparing for his free skate, and Yuuri knew Ciao Ciao had to be at his debut. 

Taking a staggering breath in, he willed himself not to cry just yet. He couldn’t even confide in Chris, who stood by Viktor’s side the whole afternoon. 

Yuuri was left alone to wallow in his own pity. His stomach churned with jealousy, whether at Viktor or at Chris, he wasn’t sure, but he clenched his teeth and looked away. 

Maybe he should cry it out in the bathroom. Warmups were about to start soon, but he knew it was more important to have a clear head. But without Ciao Ciao there, he wouldn’t be able to keep track of the time. Maybe he should just —

His thoughts were interrupted when a slender figure in shimmering blue sat next to him. 

“Heartbreaks are the worst,” Georgi lamented. Yuuri noticed how his accent was much thicker than Viktor’s. “I loved Anya with all my heart. It still hurts.”

Yuuri was about to protest, feeling the need to inform Georgi that he wasn’t in love with Viktor, until he realised that for all intents and purposes, he had been. He had never felt the way he felt about Viktor about anyone else. He was obsessed, transfixed, mesmerised by the entirety of Viktor. Maybe it wasn’t love. But it was love for what Yuuri knew love to be. His mouth opened and closed again, and Georgi took it as a sign to continue speaking. 

“It’ll be okay, Yuuri,” he consoled, stroking his back. “Heartbreaks will only make you stronger.”

“T-Thank you,” Yuuri managed to stammer out. “You’ve been very kind. But if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”

“Oh! Right, of course.” Sitting up straight, Georgi shifted so he blocked Viktor from Yuuri’s view. “Yakov sent me over to give you some advice. Viktor and I have been sharing coaches since forever, so I know a thing or two about being alone before competitions,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’ll get better, I promise. But if you ever need anyone to talk to, Yuuri, I’m always free.”

Yuuri might’ve missed the bitter tint to his last sentence if he hadn’t felt it too. “Thanks, Georgi. And uh, I’m sorry about Anya.”

“My love,” Georgi cried, burying his face in his hands. “Everyone says I’m still young, and I'll find someone better, but it really doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“They shouldn’t invalidate your feelings. It’s completely fine if you’re upset,” Yuuri comforted Georgi, half hugging him in return as he repeated Phichit’s words. “But if Anya couldn’t see what a great and dedicated guy you are, it really is her loss.”

Peering through his hands, he stared at Yuuri with glassy eyes. “Thank you, Yuuri. I see why Viktor was so enamoured with you.”

Yuuri froze for a second at the sound of his name, but quickly forced himself to shake it off. He couldn’t break down now, with warm-ups so soon and Georgi almost breaking down too. “Why don’t you talk to me about Anya?”

Even when warmups started, Yuuri stayed next to Georgi. It was going well. He provided a listening ear, and in exchange, Georgi kept him too distracted to worry about his own problems. He received a couple of odd looks from sponsors and spectators as he skated by Georgi’s side, but if Georgi noticed he didn’t mind. Instead, he took it upon himself to provide advice, giving Yuuri a few pointers on how to move more haggardly to portray grief whilst still keeping his grace and stature. 

“Your jumps are much better now,” he noted, gliding beside Yuuri. “Your quad salchow is coming along especially nicely…?”

Yuuri beamed, pride filling his chest and eating away at the edges of his anxiety. “Thanks! It was actually someone from Russia who taught me. Have you heard of Yuri Plisetsky?”

Raising his eyebrows, Georgi skidded to a stop, almost bumping into Chris. “I didn’t know you two were friends!”

Yuuri shrugged, thinking of the boy. They’ve definitely been through a lot together, and Yuuri wouldn’t hesitate to call him a friend, but he doesn’t know if Yuri shared the same sentiment. 

He shook his head and tried to chase the thoughts away. Why does it matter if Yuri considers him a friend? He’s nine. He’s not going to stop Yuuri from proclaiming friendship. 

“I met him at ballet camp,” Yuuri explained. 

“Ah, yes, Mila mentioned,” Georgi muttered. “I hadn’t realised she was talking about two Yuris. It was pretty confusing.”

“Yeah, I think some people started calling him Yurio.”

“Amazing! I’ll start calling him that too,” Georgi exclaimed. “But why were you at ballet camp? You’re a skater.”

Yuuri sighed, and his mouth opened to answer the question he’s answered a hundred times that summer.

Yuuri took a deep breath, willing his nerves to settle as he skated to the centre of the rink. 

His short programme was about heartbreak and mourning. Yuuri had unwillingly gotten to know those two feelings rather intimately these past few weeks. 

As the first notes rang through the stadium, Yuuri forced himself to recall every single detail he could when Viktor told him he didn’t want to be friends. He recalled his blinding panic, his chest tightening and how the room seemed to spin around him and how the edges of his vision went black. 

He recalled the grief and anger that drove him to tear his favourite poster in half, that whispered in his ear that he was nothing if he wasn’t better than Viktor. He felt the bitter hatred in his bones as he threw his medals into his drawer, the pride of those achievements seeping away, replaced by the cold of his room, dissipating from his heart. 

His jumps were powerful and solid thanks to the rage, but as the music started to slow, he knew he had to portray a more delicate grief for his step sequence.

He thought about Phichit, who had probably just finished his Free Skate. He grieved over not being able to watch his best friend’s debut, not being there to cheer for him like he wished he could. His thoughts then drifted to Ciao Ciao, and how he wished Ciao Ciao was here with him, supporting him in his time of need. 

As the music ascended into a major chord, Yuuri spun on the ice slowly, thinking of Georgi, of how he extended his kindness to Yuuri when he needed it, even if it was at the order of his coach. The compassion of his actions filled Yuuri with warmth, colouring his previously hollow heart, and Yuuri wore a faint smile as he glided across the ice. 

Finally, he had one last jump planned. He thought about Yuri, about the struggles they’ve shared over the summer, and how much he has helped Yuuri as a skater even at such a young age. 

This last jump is for Yuri , Yuuri thought to himself, mentally preparing to launch himself off the ice. 

In the last few seconds of his performance, Yuuri inserted a quadruple salchow, willing it to be soft and delicate the way Yuri had done it a million times before.

As he landed, the applause in the stadium was deafening, and his arms fell into his final pose as the cheers grew louder. 

Breaking figure skating news!!!

Katsuki Yuuri, Japan’s Ace and Nikiforov’s biggest rival, was seen cozying up to Nikiforov’s rinkmate, Georgi Popovich during warmups before the GPF Short Programme. 

What was he doing with Popovich? Both skaters constantly linger in Viktor’s shadow, spiteful that their talent can never surpass the Living Legend’s, and are constantly compared with Viktor Nikiforov. Were they discussing their mutual hatred for the King of the Ice? Or were they perhaps plotting something more sinister? The downfall of Viktor Nikiforov could erase the most serious competition the two face, and with Georgi as an ‘inside man’ at their rink, they could easily combine forces to remove Nikiforov from the podium. Permanently. 

Read more…

@simonsays lmao what trash reporting is this

@gina95 It’s kinda sus though. What would Katsuki and Popovich talk to each other about if not Viktor?

@lunæ @gina95 idk skating????? the one thing they have in common????? maybe they were reminiscing about sharing the podium????? for the fourth time now??????

@idrisdescent If Viktor gets into a serious injury this season, I think we’ll know who’s behind it. 

Japan’s Ace outshines Living Legend -- KatsuBlog

Today’s GPF Short Programme performance saw a feat from our Rising Star. Setting a new personal best, Yuuri Katsuki stunned audiences today with one of his usual raw and emotional performances. He had a larger surprise in store, however, when he changed his final jump, which had been his favourite triple axel, to a quad salchow instead, bringing his total number of quads this programme to a four! Fans were already applauding his decision to end his performance with a jump, amazed by his stamina and how he’s able to preserve his strength, but today’s last minute change of plans shocked fans even more.

Katsuki is well known for placing most of his quads at the end of his performances. He has mentioned before that he did it due to nerves, knowing that if he fell at the beginning of his performance he might not be able to continue to skate, and that has influenced the placements of his jumps. He also said that he knew his technical score needed work, and by placing his quads later on in his programme, he would get a higher TES.

Though, that is not the only reason Katsuki fans are delighted. For the first time since his debut, Katsuki had managed to snag a higher Short Programme score than Viktor Nikiforov! Katsuki is currently in first, with a safe five point difference between him and Nikiforov. Fingers are crossed for Katsuki’s Free Skate, hoping he will be able to retain his ranking and beat the formidable Living Legend.

Nonetheless, Katsuki is still very young, and at only 16 years old, he has plenty of time to train and beat Viktor Nikiforov. He’s practically secured a spot on the podium, and seeing as he’s up against skaters with years more experience than he, it is already an impressive achievement. We’re proud of you, Yuuri! Ganba!

Chapter Text

Yuuri turned his phone off and sighed before throwing it into his duffel bag. He knew he shouldn’t be reading articles about him, especially not before a competition, but he couldn’t stop himself. Subconsciously, he wanted the praise. He wanted to know the world’s reaction to his placement.

He was proud of himself. He so rarely felt that anymore, but seeing his name above Viktor’s on the scoreboard made him smile. 

Japan’s Ace was finally overtaking Russia’s Living Legend. When he reunited with Phichit, who had scored a commendable fourth, they both cheered and celebrated, hosting a huge group hug with Ciao Ciao. 

Yuuri had proved that he was better than Viktor, and he craved the validation from others to confirm that all his efforts had paid off. He did do a good job and he was a good skater no matter what the whispers in his head told him.

But upon scrolling through his media pages, he realised that those affirmations won’t be coming in. He still hadn’t officially won, even if he did one-up Viktor in the first component. He hadn’t yet earned the praise he so desperately craved.

Instead, his stellar performance had increased the pressure on him to do well. His fans were all rooting for him, wishing for his success, and the press in general were all breathing down his neck, ready to pounce. If he manages to win, the rivalry will only deepen further, causing unmendable cracks in Viktor and his strained relationship. And if he loses, he would have to face the disappointment and pity from everyone once he gets off the ice.

Yuuri closed his eyes as he tried to force himself to sleep. He shouldn’t be thinking of these things now. He had a competition to win.

Yuuri was the last to go, and as he watched Viktor follow his coach onto the ice, his hair still startlingly short, Yuuri realised a problem he would encounter in his free skate.

His free skate was about love and longing. He had crafted it with Viktor in mind, and he had danced for Viktor all those times leading up to this competition. In the Cup of China, he danced for the sake of winning, utilising years of experience in crafting the perfect choreography for self-expression. He danced to win, to prove himself worthy. Not for love.

But as he stared at Viktor, he didn’t feel the adoration he once did. He didn’t even feel apathetic. He felt bitter, with viscous envy seeping into his bones. He could hardly believe that he had created this with Viktor in mind, and the more he thought about it, the more disgust and shame he felt within. But a bigger concern stood. Now, if he wasn’t dancing for Viktor, who would he dance for?

Yuuri bit the inside of his cheek anxiously as he felt the panic chip away the edges of his mind. If he didn’t know who he was dancing for, how could he bring himself to perform? The feelings that carried him through the performance previously, his love and adoration for Viktor was now tinted with a bitter touch. It wouldn’t bode well with his soft and intricate piece, choreographed with love. And the desperation to win in the Cup of China came with the advantage of a distraction-free atmosphere. There, all he thought about was winning, his goal only to fake his devotion to mask his broken heart. 

And now, as he watched Viktor skate, the scratches his blades left behind on the ice mirrored the cracks in his heart. 

He couldn’t skate about love. He couldn’t pretend he was okay, when the cause of his heartbreak was standing right there. He couldn’t — he wasn’t able to —

He was startled from his thoughts by Ciao Ciao’s hand on his shoulder. It was almost Yuuri’s turn to enter the rink, and he still hadn’t figured out what he was going to do.

As he walked towards the edge of the rink, the arena filled with thunderous applause as Viktor raised his arms and posed. The cheering was jarring, and as Yuuri stared at Viktor, breathtakingly beautiful even with his hair cut short, Yuuri felt a swell of emotions that were too much for him to handle.

He was about to enter the rink as Viktor exited. As they passed each other, Viktor’s arm brushed against his, and very softly, Viktor whispered, “Good luck.”

Yuuri wanted to throw up as he skated to the centre of the rink. His heartache and grief returned tenfold, along with his nerves and anger and fear and insecurities. It was no longer just anxiety from having to perform well. Everything that had been building up in Yuuri’s life seemed to crash down on him at that moment. From his first heartbreak, to having to share Ciao’s Ciao’s time with Phichit, to the guilt of feeling upset about the situation itself, to even the littlest fact that he forgot to charge his phone last night. 

It was too much for Yuuri. And as he stood in the spotlight, the rest of the stadium dark with everyone’s eyes on him, he felt as if they could all see each and every flaw Katsuki Yuuri ever had.

This time, he was proud to say that he managed to hold in his tears till he was out of the rink. The second he sat on the Kiss and Cry, a muffled sob escaped him, but he tried his best to hold himself together until he was out of the limelight. 

His vision was more blurry than usual, his shortsightedness and unshed tears blocking out the scores on the screen that he didn’t want to see anyways. Still, the disappointment and embarrassment came crashing down when he felt Ciao Ciao’s hand on his back, rubbing comfortingly.

Ciao Ciao was kind enough to block Yuuri from the camera’s view as he broke down into his chest. He couldn’t breath, and Ciao Ciao couldn’t calm him down enough to help him remember how. As he gasped for air in between sobs, tears streaking down his face and incoherent japanese falling out of his lips, Viktor, Chris, and Georgi stood on the podium.

“We got fourth together.” Phichit stroked Yuuri’s hair as he rested his head in his lap. Yuuri hadn’t said anything since his breakdown the whole afternoon, and Phichit was beginning to grow anxious for his best friend. “And we still have World’s and 4C to prove ourselves. Don’t be upset, Yuuri.”

Yuuri shook his head in Phichit’s lap, before turning to bury his face against the pillow placed there for comfort. It was almost time for the banquet, but Yuuri had spent the afternoon in bed, staring at the wall. His eyes were concerningly blank, devoid of any emotion, and that scared Phichit. 

“Yuuri, we have to get to the banquet,” Ciao Ciao said softly, sitting on the bed as he shook Yuuri gently. “You don’t want to be perceived as a sore loser.”

For the first time that afternoon, Yuuri spoke. His voice was hoarse and soft, but his tone was firm. “I don’t care what people think of me.”

Ciao Ciao inhaled, before enveloping his boys into an awkward hug. “I’m really sorry, Yuuri. I wish I could’ve done more as your coach. But I’m still in charge of your public image, and I assure you that staying cooped up in your room lost in your own thoughts won’t make the situation any better. You don’t have to stay the whole night, and you don’t have to talk to the sponsors if you don’t want to, but I just need you to stand beside me, and maybe grab some dinner.”

Reluctantly, Yuuri agreed, letting Phichit dress him up in the tuxedo he had tailored for him. As Phichit combed and gelled his hair, Yuuri remained silent, staring at the floor and hardly looking anywhere else.

Phichit and Ciao Ciao exchanged worried glances, but neither of them knew how to make the situation better.

Viktor and Georgi smiled as Chris dragged his feet over to their table. 

“Ugh,” Chris moaned, taking the flute of champagne Georgi handed him. “This blows.”

The two Russian skaters hummed sympathetically, sparing a quick glance at their coach as he spoke to sponsors. Yakov hadn’t realised his two prized skaters had run off to sneak a quick drink, and since they were semi hidden behind a curtain, they had their fingers crossed they could stay in their haven for a little while longer.

“I wish Yuuri was here,” Chris lamented softly, and Viktor’s eyes snapped to him at the sound of Yuuri’s name. “He was a riot back in Juniors after three glasses of wine.”

Georgi laughed beside him, and Viktor felt jealousy fester within him at their shared experiences. Georgi chose to stay in juniors a little longer, whilst Viktor was hungry to prove himself to be more. He had relished the attention back then, the praise of the media and the aid of an additional coach, but now he found himself second-thinking his decision. Maybe if he had stayed in Juniors a little longer, he could have shared some of the memories his two closest friends share with Yuuri.

“Where is he, anyway?” Viktor asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“He’s probably upset,” Georgi replied, and Chris nodded in agreement. “He’s got a lot on his plate.”

Irritation nipped at Viktor. How does his rinkmate know more than he did about Yuuri? Were they even friends? “I see,” he said coolly, unwilling to add more.

Just then, the banquet doors opened, and Viktor straightened up at the sight of Celestino Cialdini. Straining his neck, he caught a glimpse of the smaller boy that always hung around Yuuri, and Yuuri himself, hiding behind his coach.

Yuuri’s glasses reflected the shining lights of the dining hall, and Viktor couldn’t decipher how his eyes looked, but if his slouched posture and heavy steps were any indicator, he assumed Yuuri wasn’t feeling good at all.

Viktor had never missed a podium, and he could only imagine the disappointment Yuuri must be feeling right now. He laughed inwardly as he realised the absurdity. Yuuri was disappointed in being the fourth best skater in the entire world at the young age of sixteen. 

He watched as Cialdini left the boys to speak to some sponsors, and he bit down his jealousy as Phichit grabbed Yuuri’s hand and dragged him to the buffet. His fist clenched around his glass as Phichit fed Yuuri a spoonful of rice, and his teeth made an audible grinding sound when Yuuri willingly wrapped his arms around Phichit and buried his face in his shoulder.

“Woah, there, Romeo,” Chris chuckled, pulling Viktor’s flute out of his hands. “Don’t go killing Tybalt over there in the name of your Juliet.”

Viktor paused. “What?”

“I - Nevermind,” Chris waved a hand. 

“You must be Mercutio, and I, Benvolio,” Georgi mused. “Who would Rosaline be?”

“That isn’t the point!” Viktor snapped, shaking his head. “I’m heartbroken!”

“Yakov could be Friar Lawrence,” Chris added.

“The love of my life is suffering and you guys are making stupid references to a book no one cares about!”

“The ‘love of your life’ set his free skate to that book,” Chris reminded him, sipping from the champagne he had stolen. “Besides, it’s not like you guys actually dated, right? You two just harboured crushes on each other, and your coach decided it was in the way.”

Viktor huffed, looking away from Chris and focusing on Yuuri instead. His Yuuri looked exhausted, leaning against Phichit’s shoulders, trying his best to blend in with the walls. Viktor wondered why he even thought that would work. If everyone saw him the way Viktor did, they would never be able to look away, to notice anything else.

Anyone who has ever said Viktor acted without thinking had merit, though he promises he does not do it on purpose. He just simply finds himself in situations. Like when his feet carried him towards Yuuri, who was adorable even in sadness. Viktor wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Yuuri and bask in his warmth, to provide a shoulder to cry on for the skater. He wanted Yuuri to trust him the way he trusted his coach or his best friend.

Viktor wanted to make Yuuri feel better, but he didn’t know how. His feet stopped in front of Yuuri, arm extended, and he found himself asking, “Care for a dance?”

Yuuri stared at the outstretched hand for what seemed like an eternity to Viktor. When he glanced back up to Viktor’s face, he was frightened to find Yuuri’s usual warm, benevolent eyes watery and set in a venomous glare.

Yuuri watched as the medalists laughed in the corner of his eye from the buffet table. He didn't deserve to be there, to talk to them beside the view of the window. His hand gripped Phichit’s for comfort, and Phichit’s hand tightened in assurance.

He barely had the energy to stand upright, much less talk to anyone. Phichit was being a stellar best friend, feeding him spoons of food he didn’t savour and sips of liquids swallowed without tasting. All he wanted was to go home and sleep, preferably never waking up.

Phichit was rambling about the friends he made in juniors, purely to fill in the silence for he knew Yuuri wouldn’t be listening. It was a comforting sound, one he had gotten used to since they met and found himself missing when he was gone. It kept his negative thoughts at bay, and he always knew what to say. Suddenly, Phichit’s voice softened and stopped talking entirely.

Yuuri finally tore his eyes from the floor to see Viktor Nikiforov approaching them.

His hair was short enough to fall into his eyes, and Yuuri felt the want to brush it away from his face. Viktor’s gaze was soft and gentle, and a faint, unsure smile graced his lips.

Yuuri took a deep breath. He mentally prepared to congratulate Viktor on another gold, running through the possible small talk he could make as Viktor pilled food onto his plate. After all, that was why he was coming over.

‘Congratulations on gold again,’ Yuuri considered saying. Would the ‘again’ be too much? Would it be insulting in brushing off his achievements? Or would it be flattering in bringing up his previous ones?

Before Viktor reached the banquet table, however, he stopped in front of Yuuri and extended a single hand. 

He smiled, a bright smile reaching his eyes, and the faint trepidation Yuuri thought he saw there seemed as if it had never existed at all. And why would it? He just won gold for the third year in a row. He must be elated.

Viktor opened his mouth to speak. The words that tumbled out were rounded and benign in tone, but they left jagged cuts through Yuuri’s pride. “Care for a dance?”

He knew Viktor wasn’t malicious enough to rub his victory in Yuuri’s face. Viktor had always been kind and gracious, and Yuuri never doubted that from him. But he had always been capricious. 

Surely, he didn’t think it was alright to ask him to dance after everything. After breaking Yuuri’s heart, after carelessly demanding forgiveness, after being the root cause of his humiliating failure out there on the ice earlier that day.

How could he possibly be so entitled and self-centred to ask Yuuri to dance after all he had done to him? 

Yuuri didn’t realise he was shaking. He glared up at Viktor, ready to spit out what exactly he thought of him, but he was interrupted right before he could say anything he might’ve regretted.

Yakov Feltsman stood between him and Viktor, and with his face turned toward his student, Yuuri couldn’t even glare at him for preventing Yuuri from digging into Viktor the way he desperately craved to at that moment.

When Yakov turned around, Yuuri continued to glare at the coach, hoping he could absorb some of the resentment Yuuri had for his student and pass the message. But to his surprise, Yakov’s usually stoic face was a little less hard. Yuuri didn’t know what to make of it. It was too firm to be pity, but too indifferent to be scorn.

“You’ll be better.” Was all he said before grabbing Viktor’s arm and dragging him away. Yuuri felt his rage evaporate into confusion and misery, and maybe a little bit of comfort.

‘You’ll be better,” Yakov had said. It seemed certain, as if it was guaranteed in Yuuri’s future, and for some odd reason, it made Yuuri feel safe. He could get over this, eventually.

He didn’t realise he was crying until Phichit dabbed a handkerchief on his cheek.

It was past midnight when Yuuri was skating laps around his rink. The Four Continents were two weeks away, and he had qualified with ease. Still, it didn’t warrant a win. He didn’t know if he could perform his free skate without breaking down, and Yuuri didn’t want to risk embarrassing himself on national television yet again. 

As he put his playlist into shuffle, he thought long and hard about what he was going to do. Ciao Ciao was still pressuring him to skate the ballet, but Yuuri knew that his PES was his strongest advantage, and without that, he wouldn’t score like he used to. Yuuri wrecked his brain trying to come up with ideas on what to do before four continents. He had no idea how he was going to save his career.

He needed to keep up his winning streak, especially for 4C, where it was expected of him to take back gold. If he didn’t, he might start losing sponsors. He could tell Ciao Ciao was a little tense after talking to his sponsors about Yuuri taking fourth, and he knew he needed to get back on track.

His phone chimed with a notification, interrupting the music, and he skated over to see what it was. A notification from a skating forum he joined lit up his screen with a reminder that Europeans were merely a week away. There was a link to watch the stream attached, and Yuuri huffed irritably. He meant to swipe the notification away, but accidentally clicked on it instead, leading him to the event page.

Yuuri made to turn his phone off when a particular name caught his eye. Switching to Chrome, he immediately searched for Aeroflot.com.

“Yuuri? It’s 5am,” Madame Baranovskaya muttered.

“The better question is, ‘Yuuri? Why are you all the way in RUSSIA?’” Yuri chimed helpfully.

“The best question is, you’re NINE , why are you competing in juniors?” Yuuri replied, barging into the room. “Yuri, is your choreography even ready?”

Yuri scoffed. “Worry about yourself, pig. Yours couldn’t even bring you to the podium.”

“Yura!” Madame Baranovskaya scolded.

“Fair,” Yuuri sighed. “But in my defense, I had a lot going on.”

“Georgi told me.” Walking over to the oven, Yuri took out a piroshki and handed it to Yuuri. “Eat. We have a lot to discuss.”

“YUURI THIS IS NOT FUNNY FOUR CONTINENTS START IN TWO WEEKS!” Ciao Ciao yelled over the phone.

“I’ll see you in Japan, then. Russia’s closer anyway.” Without waiting for a response, Yuuri hung up. Sure, he felt a little guilty for leaving his coach without any prior notice, but he knew even if he stayed in Detroit, he wouldn’t have gotten any better at his free skate anyway.

He watched as Yuri danced his choreography flawlessly, the twist and turns that he couldn’t quite grasp last summer perfected in the span of a few short months.

Lilia stood beside him, and as Yuri entered his series of spins, she spoke. “He is truly magnificent.”

Humming in agreement, Yuuri couldn’t take his eyes off him. “Is that why you helped lie about his age? To get him in the competition?”

Lilia’s face remained passive, not sparing a single glance at Yuuri. “He will win. With that talent and grace, it’s undoubtable. And his grandfather is falling ill worryingly quickly. Who knows what waiting three years might lead to?”

Yuuri fell silent, watching the little boy dance better than he ever did. He knew the prize money for juniors isn’t that much, it mostly paid through long term investments in sponsorships and exposure. He wondered what kind of pressure the kid must’ve been under.

Finishing his routine, Yuri skated over to the pair watching by the side. “So?”

Yuuri exhaled. “You were perfect, Yura.”

As Madame Baranovskaya was hosting another student (an actual ballet dancer this time), the Yuris had to share a room. As Yuri did his nightly stretching routine on the floor, Yuuri made his makeshift mattress at the foot of the bed. 

“Pig,” Yuri called, getting Yuuri’s attention. “Bring your skates.”

“Where are we going?” 

“To the rink, duh.” Yuri rolled his eyes, picking his bag up from the floor. 

“It’s past curfew.”

Before Yuuri could protest any further, however, Yuri had already opened the window and started climbing down the window sill. Anxiously, Yuuri grabbed his bag and hurried after him, cursing the reckless fearlessness of children.

Chapter Text

“I know you came here because your free skate sucks,” Yuri explained as they walked to the rink. Yuuri remained silent, waiting for Yuri to elaborate further. “So, I took it upon myself to choreograph something new for you.”

A wisp of a smile graced Yuuri’s lips. “Thank you, Yura. But I don’t know if-”

“Don’t say anything until I actually show you!” Yuri demanded. “I put in a lot of effort. I promise it’s worth it!”

“That was -” Yuuri started, at a loss for words.

Yuri’s chest heaved as he skated to Yuuri, having just finished his performance. “Amazing? I know. You see, it’s mostly the same movements, but different places, and cooler music!”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri murmured, unsure if he should make such a drastic change without informing anyone.

“Come on,” Yuri whined. “I guarantee it’ll be better than your current programme.”

Even in his hesitance, Yuuri knew that for sure. But… “It’s so unlike me.”

“Look, do you want to win or not!” Yuri argued. “You can continue to dance your pathetic Romeo bullshit, or you can win!”

“I don’t know if I can pull this off?”

“You will,” Yuri assured. “Just try it! I spent so long doing this for you!”

At that, Yuuri sighed, nodding defeatedly. Yuri’s responding smile made Yuuri want to smile too, and he considered that maybe it was worth it after all. “Fine. Let me practise.”

“No.” A chilling voice swept through the rink, and the two boys whipped around in fear. Lilia Baranovskaya stood at the head of the rink, arms crossed. “You two will practise tomorrow. Today, you are grounded.”

Yuuri pondered over Yuuri’s choreography. It was … certainly a change. One that Yuuri wasn’t very comfortable in making. Nonetheless, the more he thought about it, about the tone it set, about the space of mind he was required to be in, he supposed that it was best suited for his current heartbroken state, without overlapping much with his short programme. And it did bear many similarities to his free skate, and was genuinely expertly choreographed. 

The deciding factor was when Yuri shared that he’d been crafting it the moment he saw Yuuri step off the ice. Yuuri didn’t think the kid cared much for… anything at all. And to spend his time to craft a choreography for Yuuri, with Yuuri in mind, was the kindest gesture he was probably ever going to receive from the skater. He couldn’t find a good enough reason to say no.

Besides, Viktor’s charm came in his ability to ‘surprise the audience’, right? Well, Yuuri could most certainly do that too.

“Are you sure you want me here?” Yuuri couldn’t quite seem to pull his hand out of Yuri’s iron grasp. Hunched over, Yuuri allowed himself to be dragged by Yuri.  Yuri tugged on his hand and ran through the crowds, not noticing or caring that whereas Yuri was small and could slip between people with ease, Yuuri was almost two heads taller than he. He kept turning around to apologise to people he ran into.

“Of course! You have to see me win gold!” Yuri shouted, trying to find his way to Lilia. They finally broke through the crowd, and at the entrance of the rink, Yuuri saw many familiar skaters, along with an army of reporters. 

Yuuri gulped, afraid of what the press might publish. With 4C just a week away, Yuuri should really be practising, instead of following a Russian skater to Europeans. Yuuri pulled his hood down further, hoping to go unnoticed.

“Carry me! I can’t find Madame Baranovskaya!” Yuri demanded, tugging on Yuuri’s shirt.

“You’re nine!” Yuuri protested in a whisper, not wanting to expose Yuri’s secret. “You’re much too big!”

Yuri froze for a second, and Yuuri instantly regretted his words when he saw the ‘try me’ written on Yuri’s impassive face. Before he knew it, Yuri had climbed up Yuuri like a tree, adamantly and awkwardly pushing himself up his shoulders. “There she is! Let’s go!”

Succumbed to his fate, Yuuri followed Yuri’s instructions, trying to avoid the reporters as much as possible. Of course, with a grown child on his shoulders, it wasn’t a simple task.

The first report to catch sight of him pounced immediately. Though he was Russian, he tried to speak English to Yuuri. “Katsuki! What are you doing in Russia?”

Before he could come up with an excuse, Yuri bent down and answered in Russian on his behalf. “He’s my choreographer.”

The reported faltered, evidently wrecking his brain to try to figure out who this small blonde kid was. “And you are…?”

Yuri grinned smugly. “The upcoming gold medalist.”

Clutching his gold medal, Yuri skated towards his coach and choreographer. As Yuuri extended a hand to pass him his skate guards, Yuri jumped and tackled him in a hug, wrapping his arms and legs around him.

Then, as if he had just realised what he had done, Yuri jumped off instantly, his angsty demeanour returning. Yuuri helped him put on his skate guards, before they were hastily swept away to the press room. 

As the centre of attention, Yuri strutted towards the room, reporters flocking around him like bees to honey. Forgotten, Yuuri was able to hide behind Madame Baranovskaya with relative ease, much to his pleasure. Despite his fame, the tale of another skating prodigy that might be Nikiforov’s successor made a better headline.

As Yuri got settled at the press conference table, the height difference between him and the other medallist only emphasised his small physique. On the podium, with Yuri standing taller than his competitors, it could’ve been brushed off. But sitting at the same height, Yuuri worried at his lower lip at the thought of Yuri’s age being exposed.

It was weird to hear the shouts of ‘Yuri!’ and not having to respond to any of them. Yuuri sat at the side near the front, close enough to see Yuri clearly but remain out of the way of most reporters. 

“Yuri! How do you feel about winning gold?” One reporter yelled.

“Pretty damn good,” came his honest response.

Lilia tutted next to Yuuri. “That’s what I forgot to instill. I managed to knock discipline and resilience into his thick skull, but I forgot manners entirely.”

“Yuri! Why did you choose to incorporate so many senior elements to your dance?” Shouted another voice.

Yuri looked almost bored. “Madame Baranovskaya said I can’t train quads because I’m still growing - which is absolute bull - so I had a senior PCS to show that I’m the best one here.”

“Ah. But you did a quad anyway?”

“Because I can.”

Yuuri laughed inwardly at his curtness. He hoped Plisetsky could get away with it because he was young and cute. 

“And who choreographed it for you?”

“Katsudon - I mean, Katsuki,” Yuri stuttered, catching himself. The reporter waited for an elaboration, but Yuri didn’t explain any further, choosing instead to fiddle with his namecard.

“Katsuki? Like, the second best figure skater, Yuuri Katsuki?” Someone asked.

Yuri’s eyebrows shot up, nostrils flaring. “If by that, you mean Japan’s Ace, yes, Yuuri Katsuki,” Yuri spat. “Not for long, though. I’m gonna beat him so bad when I join seniors.”

A reporter began to ask a question when another reporter interrupted, yelling, “You think you’re better than Katsuki?”

Yuri paused for the first time during the conference. Finally, “Yes. He’s weak and weepy. He cries too much.”

Unable to control his laughter now, Yuuri let out a hearty chuckle, fortunately drowned by the uproar of reporters. He hadn’t had this much fun in months. Yuuri watched as reporters fight to shout their questions, a couple of them pushing for another rivalry, a few of them wondering why Yuri was insulting his choreographer. 

“Do you think you can beat Viktor Nikiforov?” Came the loudest question.

“Undoubtedly,” Yuri replied immediately, conviction in his voice. “I hope someone beats me to it, though.”

As the three of them walk out of the press conference room, a low, booming voice called, “Yuri!”

Both Yuris turned around, and when they saw Yakov Feltsman trudging towards them, Yuuri hid behind Lilia, who barely spared a glance at her ex husband.

As Yakov looked down at Yuri, examining the little boy, Yuuri realised that his other skaters were in tow. Behind him, Georgi followed, looking a little curious and excited. Viktor stood behind Georgi, only the tip of his silver hair were visible, and Yuuri heaved a sigh of relief. Beside them, Yuuri noticed a familiar redhead from Lilia’s ballet academy, but he couldn’t quite remember her name.

Meanwhile, Yakov and Yuri were engaged in some contest to see who would break the silence first. Yakov, the stoic, renowned coach of the best skaters in the world? Or a little nine old boy who didn’t know fear?

“Give it up, Yakov, he dares to defy even me ,” Lilia supplied, waving her hand between the two. 

Yuri smiled smugly as Yakov straightened and cleared his throat. “You know how it is. Paper work will be waiting for you at home, blah blah blah. We meet next week to discuss the gritty terms and conditions.”

Shaking his head petulantly, Yuri argued. “No. Next week is 4C. I’ll be watching.”

“We can arrange our meeting around the streaming times.”

“In person.”

Yuuri’s eyebrows raised, and even Yakov tilted his head. Bending forward, Yuuri whispered to Yuri. “But you’re poor.”

“I just won like a million dollars,” Yuri protested. 

“Actually, it’s only a few hundred if you factor in the taxes and-”

“I’m going to Japan as your choreographer!”

“What?” Yakov and Viktor exclaimed simultaneously. Stepping forward, Viktor walked towards Yuuri, only to be stopped by Yakov’s large arm. 

Yuri, sensing his mistake, continued to talk hurriedly. “I’ll see you in two weeks. We can discuss it then.” Then, much to Yuuri’s gratitude, he grabbed Yuuri by the arm and pulled him away.

Unknown junior figure skater steals the limelight, and the gold medal!

Yuri Plisetsky shocked everyone with his astounding programme at Europeans. Having missed Nationals for medical reasons, this is the skater’s first ever debut! And a spectacular one, at that! Breaking almost every junior record there was, Plisetsky made a name for himself rather quickly. Fans have started dubbing him Russia’s Tiger, due to his curt and borderline rude responses to reporters. Other’s have nicknamed him a Fairy, for his graceful interpretation on the ice.

After missing nationals, some strings had to be pulled with the FFKK to get him in Europeans, but boy, was that a worthy decision to make! Plisetsky’s coach, Madame Baranovskaya, is a ballet instructor at the… Read more

@pennyskrt

OH MY GOD HE’S SO SMALL AND CUTE WJHSJHJSHDJDHD

A new rival for the Rising Star?

Japan’s Yuuri Katsuki seems to have a lot of tension when it comes to foreign affairs in Russia. A new upstart, Yuri Plisetsky, stunned the world with a phenomenal programme. In his interview, however, he mentioned that he could easily beat Katsuki in seniors when it comes to it. 

So, here is my question; Why is Katsuki such a hot topic among Russian skaters? What could he possibly have done to enrage them so much? Here are my top ten theories on why Katsuki can’t seem to catch a break.

Reason No. 1 - Japan and Russia’s political history 

Read more…

FS Tea - Podcast

13:32 [Pause]

“Ok, but notice how he hesitated when saying yes about Katsuki but said undoubtedly for Nikiforov-”

“He probably meant that Nikiforov will be retired when he gets to seniors.”

“No, I think there’s more to it.”

“Is there? Let’s find out after a short message from today’s sponsors!”

Yuuri Katsuki hatching ploy to defeat Russia’s Living Legend?

Russian FS fans were confused, if not a little wary, of Katsuki’s decision to choreograph for Gold Medalist Yuri Plisetsky. It was revealed that Plisetsky’s winning programme, comprised of Agape and Allegro, were both choreographed by Katsuki. 

With both skates having annihilated Nikiforov’s Junior world record, some have started to speculate that Katsuki had done this on purpose to defame his rival. Their infamous rivalry has been cited as his main motivation to work with Russian skater Plisetsky. Though unconfirmed, there are few other factors as to why he chose to choreograph the pieces, as Katsuki received no pay or compensation for the act. Read more…

Yuri_Plisetky • Following

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[yuuri staring at someone behind the camera]

“Do I really have to do this?”

[yuri, not in frame:] “Yes! Come on, Katsudon.”

[yuuri sighs and looks into the camera] 

“I am Yuuri Katsuki, and I choreographed Yuri’s programme because he sucks at breakdancing.”

“HEY!”

“I am in no way trying to overthrow Nikiforov through this angsty demon, I feel like there are better ways to do so.”

“I agree. Someone commented and asked why did you really help me.”

[grinning, yuuri winks at the camera] “Because Yuri and I are BEST FRIENDS-”

“KATSUDON.”

“-BFFS FOREVER-”

“OH MY GOD.”

“-WE’RE BESTIES.”

“HOW DO I STOP THE STREAM.”

Livestream ended

Phichit 

@phichit+chu

I can’t believe a four year old stole my best friend??? Yuuri?? I’m hurt @yuri_plstky @katsukiyuuri

4:53 ⋅ Twitter for IOS

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Snakepumatiger

@yuri_plstky

@phichit+chu TAKE HIM BACK HE’S ANNOYINGGGGGG

4:55 ⋅ Twitter for IOS

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As Yuri watched Yuuri train in the Russian rink, just as they did the summer before, he realised that there might’ve been a slight, tiny oversight on his part. In his masterful attempt at helping Yuuri get back onto his feet, he failed to realise that not every skater was fueled by spite and rage as he was.

He thought long and hard about how to rectify the situation that was Yuuri Katsuki. Yuuri took Yuri’s powerful, revenge-seeking choreography and turned it sorrowful and pathetic. 

“PUT IN MORE ASS,” Yuri yelled.

“YOU’RE NINE, WHAT DO YOU KNOW?”

Yuri tutted, irritation nipping at his brain as Yuuri failed to personify eros. He had to admit, it was partially his fault. After all, expecting Yuuri to learn a whole new choreography in the span of a week was insane.

But he had faith in Yuuri. He knew that if anyone could do it, it would be Japan’s Ace. So Yuri continued to hurl insults at the other skater, pointing out each and every flaw made. It was for his own good.

Chapter Text

As Yuuri skated onto the rink, preparing for his free skate, he mentally prepped himself for failure. It didn’t feel as impending as before. After all, he had already humiliated himself earlier this season. It couldn’t possibly get any worse.

So, he tried not to let his leather jacket weigh him down, and his purposefully tousled hair get into his eyes. Without his glasses, he could still make out the figures of Yuri, Phichit, and Ciao Ciao waiting by the sidelines.

Lilia had decided against coming, to prevent any further speculation, but Yuri was adamant about being there. In the days leading up to 4C, Yuri and Lilia helped Yuuri refine his free skate, adding and editing some last minute alterations. Lilia had a hard time making it stick to the ballet centric theme, but in the end, they somehow shifted Yuri’s hardcore routine to a softer, more rounded one, whilst still keeping the same tone. Yuuri felt powerful when he rehearsed it, something he so rarely did before. This was much more different than his usual choreographies, where his power laid in the grace and agility of his movements. Now, they were crass and abrasive, and yet, perfectly delicate in the way only Katsuki Yuuri could achieve. 

Yuuri, who had ran through this choreography an astounding total of two times, knew it wouldn’t be his best performance. And yet, the anxiety he expected to eat at him was, for some reason, missing. Maybe it was because he didn’t expect to do well, or maybe it’s because Viktor wasn’t around. Whatever the case was, Yuuri felt eerily at ease in his starting position. Sure, his chest hammered at the feeling of being the centre of attention. But his worries, his overwhelming sense of dread, never came. He almost missed it.

But as the starting notes rang, Yuuri started to dance the choreography he learnt barely a week before. 

As applause thundered the rink, Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh. 

Not standing on the tallest podium during 4C was new for Yuuri, but given his limited preparations for his programme, he was pretty proud.

Bronze in hand, he skated toward his friends, flashing the medal at the blinding cameras. Phichit met him with an enthusiastic hug, pulling both Yuri and Ciao Ciao in too, not letting go until he was certain at least one good photo was taken so he could upload it onto his instagram. 

“Can’t believe you came third,” Yuri snarked, not at all insulting in the way he wanted it to be.

“Me neither!” Phichit chimed, laughing. “Oh my god Yuuri, you were so hot!”

Yuuri choked on his water, a little dribbling out of his mouth as he snorted, and as the three of them made their way to the press room, laughing and playfully bantering with one another, Ciao Ciao smiled. His Ace was learning to be a kid again. 

World’s was coming up, and Yuuri had more time to work on his programme in the weeks leading up to it. Yuri had gone back to Russia to train for junior worlds, now under the guidance of Yakov Feltsman, and he would send every single complaint he had to Yuuri. He complained about how the ‘wicked hag’ (Mila) would continuously throw him around, and how Georgi never shut up, (‘How you do understand him? He communicates in moans and weeps!’) He complained about the gruelling training Yakov put him under, and the restrictions that he actually implemented, unlike Lilia’s relative leniency. 

Yuuri noticed that he never mentioned Viktor, not even once to Yuuri, even though the whole of Twitter received his complaints regarding a certain living legend. Yuuri was grateful for that.

As Yuuri texted Yuri and began his nightly stretch, a knock sounded on his door. Ciao Ciao walked in upon hearing Yuuri’s ‘Come in’, and he stepped around Yuuri to sit on his bed. 

He cleared his throat. “Um, I hope grounding you has taught you a lesson.”

“Right, because I spend my time in places other than the rink and my room.”

Ciao Ciao scowled, but the corners of his mouth were turned up. “Anyway, though I cannot guarantee you’ll medal at World’s, I want to commend you for learning a new, ahem, routine, that might be better suited to the events in your life.”

“You can say it Ciao Ciao,” Yuuri assured him. “I’m okay now.”

Pursing his lips, Ciao Ciao pointedly glanced at the empty walls, but decided not to press further. “Are you still… keen on being the best?”

“Of course,” Yuuri said softly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Very well.” Standing up, Ciao Ciao began to make his way out of the room. “I hope you don’t mind that we start next season? This season had a couple of unfortunate circumstances.”

“Thank you, Ciao Ciao.” 

As the door clicked close, Yuuri glanced at the bronze medal hanging from the corner of his bedframe. It might not have been gold, and it might not have been better than Viktor’s, but that medal meant a lot more to him than any silver he had gotten before.

Katsuki Yuuri stun audiences with a last minute change to his programme, choreographed by Russian junior gold medalist!

In an… interesting turn of events, Japan’s Ace, Katsuki Yuuri, won bronze at this year’s Four Continents, breaking his golden streak. Nonetheless, it is still an impressive accomplishment given his Grand Prix Performance, and the fact that his Free skate had been altered considerably. It’s been revealed that the new choreography was chosen by Yuri Plisetsky, who himself had just been thrown into the skating spotlight earlier this week. 

Whilst it surprised fans to hear that Katsuki choreographed Plisetsky’s programme, it was much more shocking to hear that the young, previously unknown Russian skater had been given the liberty to redesign Katsuki’s free skate, the increasingly iconic Eros (read more about his new programme here !) And whilst he did a good job, fans are left to speculate why Katsuki decided on such a risky, last minute decision. 

Katsuki has always been observed as obedient and shy, and whilst many other skaters aim to snatch the audiences’ attention, Katsuki’s charm lies in his ability to draw it to himself effortlessly. Not known for making brash decisions, like some other skaters, no one could’ve predicted… Read more

katsukiyuuri_fanclub • Follow

[image of yuuri licking his lips]

katsukiyuuri_fan club OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY G

figureskattememes • Follow

[caption: when katsuki yuuri is mad sexy, but you realise he’s 16 ]

[monkey looking away meme]

“Georgi!” Yuri demanded, making sure Yakov and the Idiot was busy on the other side of the rink.

“What do you want, gremlin?” Georgi replied, still focused on his spins. 

“You’re a friend of Katsuki, right?” Stepping in front of Georgi, Yuri was determined to be as annoying as possible. 

“I am.” Pushing Yuri’s face away, Georgi continued to spin. 

“Then help me think! What could help him be more eros?”

“It really isn’t our problem, Yura.” 

Yuri crossed his arms. “I’m about to make it your problem.”

“I took you in for ONE WEEK,” Yakov yelled, towering over Yuri as he sat on a bench in the infirmary. “And you’ve already attakced your rinkmate.”

“He’ll live.” Rolling his eyes, Yuri didn’t see what the big deal was.

“Cut your GODDAMN NAILS Plisetsky,” Georgi sobbed, allowing Mila to put some ointment on the scratches across his arm. “No wonder people call you ice tiger.”

“I can’t promise that I won’t do it again.”

“YURI.” Yuri could see Yakov’s hair fall out by the minute. “You - Fine. I’ll call Lilia. Maybe she can handle you.”

As Yakov stormed out of the room, dialling his phone, Viktor strolled in. “Goodness, Georgi. Did you try and pet Sasha again? I told you stray cats weren’t receptive to affection.”

“That was ONE TIME. And no, I didn’t.”

“Why did you even attack him for?” Mila asked, capping the ointment and putting it back into the first aid box. 

Yuri gave Georgi a pointed stare, and Georgi looked at anywhere but Viktor. 

“I just felt like it,” Yuri lied. “Anyway, if you aren’t gonna help me, Georgi, I’ll find someone who will.”

Storming away, Yuri was about to slam the door behind him, when he paused. Turning back, he glared at the floor, chewing his cheeks. 

“Also, sorry. Not for scratching you or whatever. But like, because you’re such a loser. I’m sorry you’re a loser,” he sputtered. 

As he closed the door gently behind him, Georgi shook his head. “Apology accepted.”

Georgi felt bad for Yuuri. He really did. Yuuri was such a gentle soul, and though they never really spoke much, they did spend quite a significant amount of time together. Georgi would even consider Yuuri a friend, even if he didn’t feel the same. 

But Georgi had also watched Viktor punch his locker in rage. He heard Viktor’s sniffles as he went to sleep in their shared hotel room, and saw Viktor’s lifeless gaze for weeks after the Grand Prix. He had never seen Viktor quite so despondent in his life. Viktor was always flighty and aloof. If he was ever in a situation he didn’t want to be in, or that he couldn’t escape, he would zone out his troubles, let life pass him like a mere breeze tussling his hair. He would continue his day as if nothing had happened, because nothing ever truly affected him.

Viktor never sobbed into his pillow four nights in a row. He never showed up to training on time, and even if he did, he never stayed the whole duration. He never listened to Yakov without some witty quip, never not caused trouble.

And to see Viktor so lifeless, his misery seeping into every movement of his bones, scared Georgi.

Adding onto misery, the new Yuri seemed to have a personal vendetta against Viktor. He constantly texted Yuuri, and everyone knew, including Viktor. Viktor was banned from watching Yuuri’s 4C performance, but with Yuri constantly repeating the choreography, not even trying to hide it from Viktor, he saw Viktor’s confusion and betrayal through the mask of indifference Viktor tried so desperately to put up.

He didn’t believe anyone was at fault, and he was unwilling to help Yuuri, knowing what it would do to Viktor. He couldn’t do that to Viktor. As much as he loathed being in his shadow, always coming in second to Viktor, they practically grew up together. They were brothers. 

But as Georgi recalled their short conversation before Yuuri’s trainwreck of a free skate, he realised he couldn’t not help fix that too. Yuuri was kind, and completely and utterly undeserving of being a victim of Viktor’s careless, fligthy behavious that so often got on Georgi’s own nerves.

Picking up his phone, he scrolled through his contacts. 

Viktor was a good friend. And as they both lived in Europe, it was easy to meet up and get drunk. He was close to Viktor, and though he idolised him in the past, they were true, good friends now. He could confide in Viktor whenever, and Viktor in he. There was no judgement, no lies or feigned civilness between the two. He couldn’t quite be as authentic with other people as he was with Viktor.

But he had known Yuuri years before. Though they weren’t as close, the bond he and Yuuri forged was much earlier in life. Yuuri had been as much fun as Viktor when they were young, and if it weren’t for their living circumstances, he knew he and Yuuri would be just as close. Yuuri had always been kind and accepting, and though they don’t talk much on the off-season, they still texted and exchanged pictures. 

As he reminisced, he remembered how cheerful Yuuri used to be. Sure, he had always been shy, but he used to be so happy in juniors. And now, the poor boy is stricken with panic attacks before every performance. He rarely smiles on the podium any more, despite being the best skater in his age group. 

He sighed. “You can count on me, Georgi.”

“Thanks a bunch, Chris.”

Phichit was determined to keep Viktor out of Yuuri’s line of sight for the entirety of World’s. He was livid at Viktor. He had been for a long time, but watching him trigger a panic attack in Yuuri made him snap.

Viktor and his crazy fans were the ones who caused Yuuri’s anxiety, constantly bashing on Yuuri online. And yet, Yuuri’s unyielding devotion to him blinded him from the truth. It was Viktor’s fault. It was all Viktor’s fault. 

And then he had to go and break his best friend’s heart. Yuuri was the absolute kindest, sweetest, and genuine person Phichit has ever met in his life, himself included. How could he hurt Yuuri? Yuuri deserved nothing but hugs, dogs, and katsudon after all he had been through. Phichit detested Viktor, and he wasn’t shy about it.

“Piccolo, it’s a complicated situation,” Ciao Ciao assured him. Yuuri had just upped and left for Russia, two weeks before Four Continents, rushing out of the door after leaving a kiss on Phichit’s forehead when he was sleeping, waking him up. Ciao Ciao tried to play it down for Phichit’s sake, but why couldn’t he see that Viktor was poisoning Yuuri’s life?

“He’s a jerk!” Phichit cried indignantly. “He’s a huge ass to my best friend! How can you stand there and defend him after all he’s done to Yuuri!”

“It’s not his fault.” Resting his hand on Phichit’s shoulder, Ciao Ciao tried to help Phichit see reason. He was young, and he didn’t understand the intricacies of the situation, or the politics behind relations, but Ciao Ciao knew Phichit to be open and frank with his emotions. That’s what won over the hearts of the audience - his bubbly personality and penchant for self expression. But that also means that he would likely start a controversy that Ciao Ciao would rather avoid.

“He’s making Yuuri upset! It’s always been him!” Storming into his room, he shut the door behind him. He sat on his bed petulantly, missing the warmth of Yuuri in their shared room. 

Phichit never disliked anyone before in his life, but he was absolutely certain that he hated Viktor Nikiforov. 

Meeting Yuri number 2 was weird. He was much shorter than Phichit, which was something Phichit wasn’t used to. And he was Russian, with a very thick accent, so Phichit found himself unable to understand the kid in the first few days.

He wondered why he didn’t compete at the Grand Prix Junior if he was so good, but when he asked, he received a curt ‘mind your own business’.

He didn’t see why Yuuri liked him so much. He was small and rude. His only saving grace was that he liked cats. Not that he’d ever admit to Yuuri, but Phichit knew cats were better than dogs. Though, hamsters triumphed them both.

“So, Yakov Feltsman is coaching you?” As a mean of making small talk, Phichit decided that if he were to interact with the child, the least he could do was to dig for information about Yuuri’s largest competitor.

“Yes. He is the best coach in Russia, I am very excited,” Yuri said, barely looking up from his phone. Well, Phichit thought, at least that’s something they had in common.

“Ah. And what are your thoughts about Viktor?” Phichit asked, subtlety not being his strong suit.

“He sucks. Flighty and annoying and overrated. Too pretentious and artsy,” he muttered.

Phichit was surprised. “Wait, why don’t you like him? Isn’t he, like, a Russian hero?” 

Turning off his phone, Yuri turned to face Phichit. “He’s pompous and takes things for granted. In his interviews, in clips of him and Yakov, he’s full of himself and painfully unaware. He’s had everything handed to him on a golden spoon. His parents funded his skating career, they paid for his lavish lifestyle and lessons. Not that Viktor isn’t a good skater, or that he doesn’t work hard, but not everyone has that opportunity. I work just as hard, and I’m twice as talented, but if Lilia hadn’t taken me in, who knows where I would be.”

Phichit blinked, processing what Yuri had said. In the silence, Yuri turned back to his phone.

“But what do I know? I’m just a kid.”

Taking in a breath, Phichit paused to think of what to say next. “Wow. My dislike for Viktor seems to pale in comparison now.”

Yuri paused. “You dislike Viktor too?”

“Uh, yeah. He kinda messed Yuuri up.”

Pursing his lips, Yuri stared at Phichit with such intensity that almost made Phichit seasick. “Yuuri was like me, you know? No proper coach, but he still made it. And people didn’t understand him. They still don’t. But he’s still the best.”

After a beat of silence, Yuri went back to toggling with his phone. Phichit was unsure on how he should proceed. He briefly wondered what Yuri had been through. 

“Do you have the latest SNS update?” He chose to ask instead. “There’s a 3d cat filter which is pretty realistic.”

Viktor collapsed onto the sofa of Yakov’s apartment, mail in hand. It was unbelievable that he, Russia’s Living Legend, had to sort out his own mail. 

He opened the first envelope, and a bank statement tumbled out. Checking it, he saw the monthly transfer of $500 addressed to him.

Scoffing, he handed the papers to Makkachin, who obediently chewed it and spat it out in the trash.

“I don’t need them anymore,” Viktor muttered, opening his next letter. “And as if coaching fees still cost that little.”

When Yakov got home that day, he was reading the notes Lilia had written for him. In it was Yuri’s favourite songs, routines, and a recipe for his grandfather’s piroshky.  After placing the ingredients in the cupboard, Yakov made to throw the empty paper bag away when some official looking papers in the trash caught his eye.

He sighed as he realised what it was. He forgot to get the mail again. 

Upon throwing the bag, he took out his phone and dialed the bank.

“Sherbank, how may I help you?”

“This is Yakov Feltsman. From now, any transfer made to Viktor Nikiforov’s account by Mr Sergei Nikiforov will be redirected to me.”

It was a little strange. It’s been three days in Stockholm and Yuuri had yet to even catch a glimpse of Viktor.

Unfortunately, Yuri was busy preparing for Juniors, and so he didn’t have time to chat with his friend. Phichit kept Yuuri constant company though, and Yuuri couldn’t find himself missing Yuri too much.

It was an hour before the short programme, and he still hadn’t seen Viktor even once. He remembered how he used to bump into him all the time just a year ago. Strange.

Phichit couldn’t follow him into seniors, however. But the moment he left Yuuri’s side, Chris was there to replace him.

“Hey Yuuri,” he said softly, placing a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder to gently steer him around. “How are you?”

“Surprisingly, pretty okay,” Yuuri replied honestly. “Still a little nervous, for many reasons.”

“I’m sure you’ll be amazing.” Yuuri didn’t miss how Chris led him to the far side of the room, furthest away from Viktor. “Good luck out there.”

“You too.”

“You’re in first,” Ciao Ciao noted, handing Yuuri his bottle.

“Not for long,” Yuuri sulked. “Viktor hasn’t gone.”

Ciao Ciao was quick in dragging his skater away, subconsciously aware that he can’t baby him forever. If they end up on the same podium, for example, Yuuri would have to stand right beside him and act perfectly fine.

But that was a problem for another day. Ciao Ciao hurriedly pulled Yuuri along, not turning back as the announcers read out Viktor’s name.

Chapter Text

Chris bit his lip. This wouldn’t be the first prank he played on Yuuri, but this would be the highest steaks yet. He was acutely aware of how it might backfire, and how Yuuri might get mad. But if things are as dire as Georgi proclaimed them to be (though that is seldom the case), it would be worth it.

Taking the flask, he tucked it in his jacket, mentally preparing himself to commit.

“Yuuri!” Tackling Yuuri in a hug, Chris draped his arm over Yuuri’s shoulder yet again. Yuuri chuckled as he allowed himself to be led around by Chris, used to his antics. “How're you feeling?”

Yuuri paused, chewing his cheek. “Scared. I’ve only learnt this a month ago.”

“Don’t worry, Yuuri,” Chris said, rubbing his shoulders. He slowly led them to where their bags sat in the waiting room. “You reek of sex appeal.”

He head threw back as he laughed as he playfully hit Chris. “Come on, now, Chris.”

“It is the truth!” Raising his hands in surrender, Chris laughed along with Yuuri. “Not everyone can pole dance as well as you do. And that ass!”

Chuckling, Yuuri stepped away from Chris, picking his bag up and allowing Chris to do the same. Chris inhaled, taking a moment to think, before pulling out his water bottle and his flask.

He tried to ignore Yuuri’s inquisitive gaze as he poured part of the flask into his bottle. As he closed the cap, Yuuri asked, “What’s that?”

He really hoped it worked. “Oh, just some protein thing. Gives me extra energy before a skate. Would you like to try?”

Shrugging, Yuuri extended his open bottle to Chris. Chris poured a generous amount into Yuuri’s cup, before taking it and swirling it around.

“Works better if you chug it. Here, I’ll drink with you,” Chris offered.

Before Yuuri could protest, Chris was already downing his bottle. Yuuri did it too, much like how they did back in juniors, and he made it halfway through the mixture before he stopped and spat it out. “What protein is this?”

Chris stopped as well, eyes widening as he brought the flask to his nose and sniffed it. “Shit. Wrong flask.”

“Chris!”

“I am so sorry, Yuuri,” Chris apologised. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Chris!” Yuuri paled, hands shaking as he breath became more shallow. “Oh my god, we have to perform in an hour.”

Shit shit shit. He was losing Yuuri. “It’ll be okay, Yuuri. It was hardly a quarter, and it’s only 4% alcohol anyway. Remember, when we were piss drunk back in Sochi? We still managed to dance through the night.”

“But this is a serious competition, Chris!” Yuuri was starting to shake, staring at the concoction in his bottle with horror.

“I’m sorry Yuuri,” Chris apologised, placing his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. “But you’ll be fine. I know you’ll be fine. Alcohol even loosens you up a little. Remember your first drink? You killed it at the dance pole. Your performance will be completely fine, Yuuri, trust me. If anything, it might help your eros.”

Yuuri’s breath started to slow, but he blinked at Chris, uncertainty pooling in his brown eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Chris assured him. “Honestly. A little drink won’t affect the quality of your skating in the least. I’m still very, very sorry about that, though.”

“It’s okay,” Yuuri muttered. “Just - If I start acting weird, pull me away from Ciao Ciao. I don’t want you to get found out.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Yuuri.”

The rink was alive with applause as Georgi watched Yuuri skate onto the ice, fluid in a way he hadn’t seen him before. Chris stood beside him, smirking slightly. Meanwhile, Viktor’s figure was barely discernible on the other side of the rink, getting ready to perform after Yuuri.

“Is he actually drunk?” Georgi asked in a hushed whisper. 

“You kidding? This is 0%,” Chris replied, offering the nearly empty flask to Georgi. “Couldn’t risk it.”

“Will it work? Relying on a placebo effect is unpredictable.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Viktor sighed as he watched Yuuri skate onto the ice. He was as graceful as ever, gliding across the ice like a leaf in the breeze. He noted Yuuri’s leather outfit with interest, and he wondered what changes had been made. He knew Yuri had a role in it, and he knew that it had struck a lot of controversy, but Yakov demanded that he not watch a single clip of Yuuri’s 4C performance in fear that it might throw off Viktor’s concentration. Viktor thought that was rubbish, but the whole Russian rink had been banned from watching 4C because of it. Not that it stopped anyone. Well, anyone but Viktor.

As Yuuri settled into his beginning pose, he worried Yakov might’ve been right.

The first notes sung, a gentle wave over Viktor’s ears, but his attention was solely focused on Yuuri’s intense, almost mischievous face.

When he licked his lips and grinned at the camera in front of him, Viktor’s mind went blank.

He heard Yakov sigh beside him, but nothing else mattered at that moment but Yuuri. The edges of his vision seemingly faded away, entranced by the lithe and agile figure on the ice. Yuuri’s black outfit and hair contrasted perfectly with the glistening, blinding ice, and as he skated around the rink, Viktor couldn’t possibly tear his gaze off of Yuuri for a single moment. Yuuri moved with a poise Viktor had never seen, with the confidence and the sensuality Viktor hadn’t known possible from the shy skater.

Yuuri lacked the anxious aura he usually did. It wasn’t usually visible, but Viktor saw it in the way he held his breath before a tough jump, the small furrow of his eyebrows in the many reruns he’s watched.

But this Yuuri was different. A small, almost serene smile graced his features throughout the performance, even though his eyes remained as intense and as purposeful as they always were. Yuuri was absolutely breathtaking, and Viktor felt himself falling for Yuuri all over again.

Like a scarf being blown away in the wind, Yuuri’s twists and turns on the ice were effortless and persistent. The smallest flick of his wrist, the angle of which he turned his hand, all added to his sensuality, like rivelets joining a larger stream. Yuuri was bewitching, and he had captured not only Viktor’s attention, but his heart and soul.

As Yuuri ran his hands over his body before striking his finishing pose, Viktor’s breath caught in his throat. He barely heard the thunderous applause, almost nothing enough to snap him out of his gaze, until a firm hand landed on his shoulder and gave him a good shake. He turned, only to meet the intense gaze of his coach.

“Vitya. Good luck.”

Yakov never wished him luck. As he looked back at the ice, Yuuri was skating towards him. His smile was so bright, so charming, and Viktor felt his heart lurch.

Taking a step into the rink, Viktor purposefully brushed against Yuuri, a tingly feeling shooting up his hand where it met Yuuri’s. “You were splendid.”

The moment Viktor got those words out of his mouth, he shook his head, chasing away the dreamy thoughts. He had to focus, he reminded himself. He still had a competition to win, and after Yuuri’s phenomenal programme, for the first time in years, Viktor wondered if he would actually come out on top.

“I have to,” he muttered to himself. Staring at the glistening ice in front of him, he allowed himself to be blinded, forcing his brain to quieten down and be clear like the ice.

Taking a deep breath in, he thought of his long walks in the harsh St Petersburg night, and the quiet, calm serenity that he had always relished. 

Yuuri replayed Viktor’s words as he walked to the kiss and cry. 

‘You were splendid.’

Did he even really mean that? What kind of person says that to their rival? Yuuri scrunched his nose. Was Viktor just messing with him?

As he approached the kiss-and-cry bench, he realised that instead of Phichit sitting there waiting for him, Chris took his spot, and Phichit waited willingly by the side. Eyebrows quirking up, Yuuri took a seat next to Chris, waiting for his score to be tallied.

“Yuuri, I have a confession,” Chris started, fighting back a grin.

“What’s up?”

“It wasn’t alcohol. I was just fucking with you because you’re sluttier when you’re drunk.”

Yuuri’s jaw fell, and as his words finally processed, he laughed and smacked Chris’ thigh. “You’re shitting me.”

“Nope.” Popping the ‘p’, Chris grinned back at Yuuri. “But it worked. Look!”

Turning his head, Yuuri glanced at the score on the board. And if it were possible, Yuuri’s  jaw fell a little lower. 

As Yuuri received his medal, stepping up to his familiar position on the second podium, he was surprised at just how much he missed it. Having taken it for granted, Yuuri was glad to once again come in second.

Viktor stood to his side, of course. Even though the gold medal glinted in his hand, Yuuri couldn’t quite feel the bitterness that he used to when he stood on the second highest podium.

“Good to be back?” Georgi asked from behind Viktor, but Yuuri knew he was talking to him.

“Feels amazing,” came Yuuri’s honest reply. After so much time in the dark, hateful chamber that was his mind, the flash of cameras and sounds of cheering seemed like the light at the end of the tunnel.

Katsuki’s marvellous comeback!

After missing the podium for the first time in his entire career, Katsuki Yuuri made a wonderful comeback at this year’s World Championship. Though the skater failed to medal at the Grand Prix Finals, despite winning gold for both events leading up to it, he bounced back with vigour and surprise. Katuski made a last minute change at Four Continents, switching up his entire free skate for reasons yet to be confirmed, and managed to snag third place. Though it was still not up to Katsuki’s usual standards of gold and silver, he surprised us all yet again with an enamouring free skate, placing him right back to his usual spot, right on Nikiforov’s tail!

It has not yet been confirmed the cause of Katsuki’s drastic last minute decision, though some speculate it was due to a tremendous heartbreak of the young boy. Nonetheless, it has been a tough and gruelling season for the 16 year old, and fans are proud to have witnessed his progression. Katsuki shows immeasurable potential and skill, and fans all around the world are rooting for him and his success. Ganba, Yuuri!

Yuuri and Phichit walked into the banquet hall, a couple steps ahead of Ciao Ciao, wearing dashingly matching tailored suits. Having both gotten silver in their respective competitions, they were proud and in a cheerful mood, even speaking to some sponsors between mouthfuls of food. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri was vaguely aware of Chris, Georgi and Viktor enjoying their drinks in the far end of the room. A little sliver of insecurities nipped at Yuuri – he felt like he was missing out on their fun. But Phichit was good company, and he and Yuuri chatted and laughed in a way they hadn’t for a long time.

After ending a conversation with a sponsor, Ciao Ciao walked over to their table, visibly crossed. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth set in a grim line, and his shoulders were tense when he took a sip of his champagne.

“Why so blue, Ciao Ciao?” Phichit asked. “Your two skaters both got silver.”

Ciao Ciao’s features softened, smiling gently at his boys. “And I couldn’t be more proud.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Yuuri pressed, trying to search for the last sponsor Ciao Ciao spoke to.

“It’s nothing.”

“If you don’t tell us what he said, word for word, I’ll get so drunk I’ll create a scandal worthy of Viktor’s haircut,” Phichit threatened.

Ciao Ciao sighed. He could never tell if Phichit was joking. “The last sponsor made a rather rude joke about Feltsman’s skaters ‘always beating mine’. But it was just a joke, kids. Nothing more.”

As he explained, he watched Yuuri warily, cautious of his words. He didn’t want to pressure his kid after he delivered such a marvellous performance. To his relief, Yuuri shrugged. Maybe he was getting better.

“Ass,” Phichit grumbled. “Yuuri, you see? Now you have to choreograph my performances too! I can’t keep losing out to that short miscreant.”

“Who are you calling a miscreant, you second place loser!” Yuri, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, poked Phichit in his ribs. “I’m gonna beat you up!”

“Oh no. I am so scared. What are you gonna do? Steal my kneecaps?”

“Why you–”

“Where’s Yakov?” Yuuri interjected, stepping between the two children. “Won’t he be upset that you’re… fraternising with the enemy?”

“I don’t know where the old bugger is. Besides, Georgi and Viktor are off getting drunk, so why can’t I hang out with the least lame people here?”

Phichit’s face lit up. “You think we’re cool?”

“No!”

“Yuuri! Did you hear that?”

“I sure did! We’re hip!”

“ARGH WHY ARE YOU ALL SO ANNOYING.”

Laughing, Phichit and Yuuri made space for Yuri, and the three of them (mostly phichit and yuuri) laughed and joked as they shared their dinner. Ciao Ciao left midway to handle some administrative matters, and forbade Yuuri from drinking any more glasses of champagne.

As Ciao Ciao walked away, Chris made his way to their table, taking up his empty space. “Plisetsky. Yakov wants to speak to you.”

“Senile old man,” Yuri muttered, clambering down the tall chair. 

Chris wasted no time in taking his place, smiling brightly at Yuuri and Phichit. “I haven’t had the chance to congratulate you both yet. You both did spectacularly.”

“Thanks, Chris.” Giving his friend a grateful glance, Yuuri let his face bloom into a small smile. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You’re a genius!” Phichit exclaimed. “How do you come up with such brilliant ideas?”

Chuckling, Chris swirled his glass of champagne. “I’m just that good. Though, Yuuri, you might want to go talk to Georgi too. He had some part in my awesome plan as well.”

Georgi? Yuuri’s eyes widened. Why would Georgi, Viktor’s rinkmate, want to help Yuuri? Yuuri didn’t think they were that close. Neither did he think Georgi had some ill will against Viktor. 

He wondered what Georgi did to convince Chris to help Yuuri out. He wondered why he even did it in the first place.

Turning to Phichit, Chris started a new conversation regarding his choice of music for his programmes, allowing Yuuri to hop off his chair in search of Georgi. It wasn’t hard to find him, with all four Russian skaters receiving a lecture from their coach, and he waited patiently for Yakov to finish before approaching Georgi.

As he waited, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to Viktor. He still wasn’t used to seeing his hair cut short, but the more he looked at it, the more he appreciated Viktor’s masculinity and poise. He was slowly growing out of his youthful and delicate physique, becoming increasingly statuesque. He reminded Yuuri of those Greek gods, made of marble, cold as ice. His eyes were not as bright and flighty as the posters Yuuri had stared at for countless nights, but instead dark and consuming, a storm looming, faraway, in the otherwise clear skies.

Viktor’s eyes shot to Yuuri, and Yuuri immediately looked away, embarrassed to be caught staring. His mind replayed the words that Viktor said to him earlier.

He called him splendid. Yuuri vaguely remembered having daydreamed about this exact scenario years ago, long before he had started skating internationally. Oh, how things have changed.

Yuuri pointedly stared at the floor, only watching the Russian group out of the corner of his eye. When they were finally done, Yuuri waited for Yakov to leave before approaching the group. As he walked towards them, he felt the eyes of all four skaters on him, but he forced a smile onto his face as he purposefully looked at Georgi. He tried his best to ignore the way Viktor stared at him intently, his blue eyes piercing even behind his silver hair.

“Congrats,” Yuuri said, in the general direction of both medallists, so as to not be rude. Then, turning to Georgi, Yuuri continued. “Georgi, I just wanted to thank you.”

Yuuri saw Viktor tilt his head in curiosity, and the smile on Georgi’s face became a little strained. “Don’t mention it.”

Yuuri wasn’t stupid. He knew Georgi wasn’t just being nice. Acutely aware of Viktor’s blatant eavesdropping, he merely shot Georgi a grateful glance, resolved to never knowing what triggered Georgi’s kindness.

Behind Georgi, Yuri looked on in confusion. 

Viktor paced about his room, replaying the encounter from that evening over and over again in his head. He thanked Georgi. What for? Georgi hadn’t left Viktor’s side through the whole competition, a persistent but well meaning thorn in his side. They had spent almost every second attached, with Yakov not trusting Viktor to be alone for even a bathroom break. 

His mind fixated on what Yuuri could’ve been thanking Georgi for as a means of ignoring the fact that Yuuri barely looked at him all night.

He couldn’t help but stare at Yuuri throughout the banquet. He was magnetic, and Viktor’s gaze was instantly drawn to him every time he scanned around the room. Viktor was mesmerised by the way he threw his head back when he laughed with Phichit, something he almost never did with anyone else. And when Yura snuck off to join their table, Viktor realised Yuuri spoke to him animatedly, even when Yuri remained nonchalant throughout the conversation. Katsuki Yuuri was an enigma, a puzzle that Viktor longed to solve but could never decipher.

Much like the indecipherable drastic change to his routine. Viktor was sure, he was absolutely certain, that the change of his routine was a message to Viktor. It was so sensual, so full of anger and stress. Viktor knew Yuuri skated that with Viktor in mind. He wasn’t sure if he should be flattered, but most parts of him felt guilty. Guilty that his actions drove Yuuri to his first podium miss. Guilty that he was the reason for the redesigning of the entire routine Yuuri spent months training for.

To add insult to injury, guilt wrecked him when he realised that all of his friends had helped Yuuri through it. All but him. Of course, it was he who caused it in the first place, so it would’ve been hard to fix the mess he had caused. But that’s all the more reason he should be the one making it up to Yuuri. Chris, who had helped Viktor deal with the emotions of the first few weeks following the Grand Prix, was there with Yuuri at the kiss-and-cry. Georgi, who barely spoke to Yuuri, had somehow managed to help him too, despite not leaving Viktor’s side the whole time they were there.

And Yura. Yura who choreographed Yuuri’s saving performance, who pushed him back onto his feet. Viktor knew he could do little to patch up his mistakes, but the least he could do was thank the people who did.

Yuri was… an odd child. He was rude and complained a lot, and even though Georgi and Mila bickered with him to no end, he usually just kind of avoided Viktor. 

Viktor briefly wondered why, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He was a good friend of Yuuri’s – why would he want to talk to Viktor?

Yakov didn’t give in to Yura’s demands of having one room each, not because of the funding, but because having only two rooms to watch meant that they each had a lesser chance of doing anything stupid. It had been a hassle to figure out the sleeping situation. Georgi refused to sleep with Yuri, and Yuri refused to sleep with Mila, so he ended up bunking with Viktor. 

Viktor waited for Yuri to return to their shared room, entertaining himself by reading Tumblr posts about the recent competition.

Later in the night, when the room door opened, Yuri stepped inside, trying to hide a pair of cat ears behind his back rather unsuccessfully. Viktor greeted him from the foot of his bed. “Yuri.”

His head snapped up, blonde hair falling into his eyes, as a green, venomous glare bore into Viktor. “What do you want?”

Pursing his lips, Viktor did something he never did before: think about how he was going to say what he wanted to say. “Thank you. For… taking care of Yuuri.”

“Tch.” Tossing his cat ears into his bag, he began undoing the buttons of his shirt. “No thanks to you. Without you I wouldn’t have needed to do it in the first place.”

“I know!” Viktor cried, burying his head in his hands. “And I feel terrible. You, Georgi and Chris, you’ve all been so good to Yuuri. I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“You still did,” Yuri snapped. “Wait, Chris?”

“Even Chris! You all did so much for Yuuri,” Viktor sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “I’m so glad he has friends like you.”

Yuri remained silent. But not the menacing, brooding silent he usually exhibits. A genuinely confused, even maybe slightly concerned, silent. Then, “You know. Maybe you should apologise.”

“I tried! He wouldn’t accept it.”

“Maybe get him a gift to smoothen things out,” Yuri suggested. “I think he’d like that?”

Viktor looked up, looking awfully similar to a kicked puppy. “Really?”

Shrugging, Yuri took his shirt off and tossed it on a chair. “Worth a shot, right? Now, I’m gonna take a bath. Do not talk to me for the next hour.”

When Yuri came out of the bathroom, Viktor was gone. Assuming it was to get some extravagant gift for Yuuri, Yuri got dressed and ready for bed, hoping Viktor wouldn’t make too much noise getting back. 

Though, something had been chewing at the back of his mind. He didn’t know what Yuuri thanked Georgi for, and during the hectic fun of the night, he had forgotten to ask Yuuri. And Viktor mentioned something about Chris, too. Yuri wanted to know what they had done for Yuuri for Viktor to be so distraught. Surely, nothing compared to choreographing a whole routine for Viktor. 

He couldn’t quite believe Georgi decided to help Yuuri after all. 

Marching up to the connecting door, Yuri pounded it with his fists. “Georgi! Georgi! I need to talk to you.”

After a couple seconds, Georgi opened the door, eyebrows crossed and mouth set in a grim line. He towered over Yuri, tall and lanky, but Yuri’s height came from his personality. As Yuri glared at Georgi, behind him, Mila yelled, “Shut the hell up, Plisetsky!”

“What do you want?” Georgi asked defeatedly. He had gotten used to Yuri’s antics. 

“Why did Katsuki thank you? And what did Giacometti do?” Yuri demanded, crossing his arms. 

Sighing, Georgi rubbed his face. “You couldn’t wait till the morning?”

“I want to know!”

“Fine. I called Chris to help Yuuri after you attacked me. Happy?”

Yuri opened his mouth to insult Georgi over his snarky tone, but his words had just registered. “…Oh.”

“Now,” Georgi grumbled, “I’m going to go to bed. Get everything you want to say out now so I don't have to open this door again.”

Nodding once, Yuri stared at Georgi’s ugly nightshirt. “That will be all. Thank you.”

Yuri slammed the door closed in Georgi’s face. Satisfied with his answer, he went back to bed. 

Earlier that night

Yuri was bored. Yakov had given his old man pep talk, and a bunch of sponsors harassed him for what seemed like hours after. By the time he was done, Yuuri and Phichit had already gone off to do other things. He had no other friends in juniors, or at all, and he had never been to one of these before, save for Europeans, where he left early. He didn’t know how he should act. 

As he leaned against the wall, his phone vibrated with a notification.

Phichit 

@phichit+chu

@yuri_plstky check your dms for our room number. that’s where the real party will be. 

9:22 ⋅ Twitter for IOS

Yuri scoffed, keeping his phone. Only Phichit will tweet him a message he could’ve easily sent in private.

He fought to keep a smile off his face as he slipped out of the banquet hall.

Phichit+chu ● following

Watch livestream

[yuri narrows his eyes at the camera] “I thought you said we were going to party?”

“We’re gonna have much more fun than that. We’re gonna spill tea and talk, as BFFs do!”

“Who still uses that term?”

[yuuri glances uncertainly at the camera] “If we’re going to spill tea, why is the camera there?”

“To capture it. Duh, Yuuri, you should know this by now!”

[phichit picks up some cue cards, his messy handwriting scrawled all over them] “Okay, I’ll ask, you two answer. Fireround: Hottest figure skater?”

“Me.”

“...I don’t know, Chris? He’s pretty hot.”

“Favourite jump?”

“Quad salchow, duh.”

“Triple axel.”

“Shoot, shag, marry, the Euro Trio.”

“Ugh, shoot myself.”

“Let’s see. Shag Chris, marry Georgi. Shoot, you know.”

“Harsh, Yuuri, I like it.”

“Georgi is a headache, trust me on this. Are you sure?”

“Do you prefer Georgi or Viktor?”

[yuri pauses] “Fair point.”

[phichit throws the card he’s holding across the room] “Next! What’s your ideal type?”

“What sort of stupid question is this.”

“Anyone who looks at me.”

“You guys aren’t doing this correctly.”

[yuri scoffs] “My turn to ask. Thoughts on Viktor Nikiforov?”

“Ohohoho, I would love to answer, but Ciao Ciao and the PR team will hang me tomorrow.”

“No comment.”

“YOU GUYS AREN’T DOING THIS CORRECTLY.”

“THAT’S WHAT I SAID.”

End livestream

Turning off his phone, Phichit pursed his lips. “Do you guys wanna just go get sushi or something?”

“I’d love some right now, Phich.”

“What’s sushi?”

As they exited the 7-Eleven, each arm with a bag full of snacks, Yuuri took a bite of his Onigiri. “Tastes nothing like how my mum makes it. But it’s okay, I guess.”

The cold air ruffled Phichit’s hair as he took a slurp of his Tom Yam instant noodles. “Ah, I remember when my siblings and I fought and they made this for me as an apology without actually apologising because they’re assholes. The good old times.”

Yuuri laughed, adding on, “Yeah, there’s no such thing as an apology to Mari. Just fresh cut fruits on a platter outside my door.”

“Maybe I should take note,” Yuri muttered. As the three of them walked through the bustling city, eating their respective snacks, they stopped by some street shops, buying anything that caught their eye, just because they could.

“That tiger jacket looks lame as shit. What are we, in the 80s?”

“FUCK OFF, SECOND PLACE.”

“That doesn’t really work when we both got second,” Yuuri pointed out. In his own hands he had a selection of ties that Phichit vehemently disapproved of, but he still bought it anyway because Yuuri existed to spite Phichit.

“Oh my god,” Phichit wheezed, picking up some animal ears. “We should all get one! Look, there’s a tiger, a hamster, and a dog!”

“There is no way in hell I am EVER wearing that,” Yuri threatened. 

Phichit and Yuuri exchanged looks. Phichit cracked his knuckles.

“I HATE YOU BOTH.”

“Selfie!”

“YOU TWO ARE DISAPPOINTMENTS TO THE SPORT OF FIGURE SKATING.”

“Send that to me Phich, I’ll make that my wallpaper.”

“I HATE EVERYONE HERE.”

“I’ll be kind enough not to post it online. I’m not a total monster.”

“I’M THROWING IT AWAY AS SOON AS I GET BACK.”

Once they got back that night, Phichit and Yuuri passed out in the same bed, too tired to even brush their teeth. 

They were awoken by a thunderous knock on the door the next morning, and Phichit responded by pushing Yuuri out of bed to force him into opening the door. Barely cognisant, Yuuri pulled the door open, only to be greeted by Ciao Ciao holding a bouquet larger than his face.

“This was left outside your door,” Ciao Ciao mentioned, walking into the room. 

Phichit cracked his eyes open, and through the tiniest sliver he could manage, caught a glimpse of the bouquet. “Wow,” he yawned. “Who’s it from?”

“For Yuuri Katsuki,” Ciao Ciao read. “From your biggest fan.”

“I didn’t think Kenjiro had my room number.”

Phichit shot up. “Fuck him, I’m your biggest fan.”

As Viktor longingly gazed out of the plane, Yuri couldn’t stand it any longer. 

“Shut up!” He scolded, nudging Viktor.

“… I wasn’t saying anything.”

“But you’re being lovesick so loud!” Turning to Viktor, Yuri glared up at the Living Legend. He couldn’t believe there were people out there who didn't know Viktor as the ditz that he was. “You already got him flowers, right? Just wait for touchdown, and check if he texted you.”

Viktor’s silent confusion made Yuri falter. 

“He does… know it was you, right?”

“…”

“Oh my God, you idiot. ”

Chapter Text

Yuuri flopped down onto the hardwood floor after a gruelling day of training, Phichit following suit moments after. It had been a nice sunny day out, and they decided to go for a jog amongst the browning leaves in the morning, but the second they returned, Ciao Ciao worked them to the bone. 

Ciao Ciao walked into their apartment, no worse for wear, checking his calendar on his phone. “Not bad, kids, but you guys have to do better.”

“We’re DYING.”

“You’re in your second competitive year, Piccolo, you don’t know dying yet.”

“Oh my god,” Yuuri moaned. “I don’t think my abs have ever hurted this much.”

“What abs?”

“Shut up, Pich.”

GPF: Grand Prix Final or Greater Political Friction?

As we head into Katsuki’s third senior year and the third year of he and Nikiforov’s rivalry, we can’t help but notice the simmering tension whenever they are both in the same room. Ever since entering the senior division, Katuski has remained distant from Nikiforov, the Living Legend receiving a much different treatment than other rinkmates his age. Other top skaters such as Christophe Giacometti and Georgi Popovich have been seen being friendly with both rival skaters, though both top skaters barely interact between themselves.

Their rivalry is a well known fact in the skating community, and though no words have been explicitly said by either party, the whole skating community have been divided into two – Katsudons and Nikifans. 

And with the introduction of Russia’s Fairy, Yuri Plisetsky, into the Junior League , it is clear that Russian coach Yakov Feltsman has the sport under a headlock. After snatching gold away from predicted winner Phichit Chulanont, Cialdini’s other student, fans have started to speculate about the growing tensions behind the glamour and camera flashes of the sport. There is no doubt that other coaches must resent Feltsman for hogging the podium year after year, even in the women’s division with another rising starlet – Mila Babicheva . But is there something greater brewing behind the strained smiles and scheduled press conferences that are recorded for the world to see?

As the war between Katsudons and Nikifans rages on, it has begun expanding into Team Russia and – well, Team Everyone Else. Though most bets have been placed on Cialdini’s skaters to defeat the Russian prodigies, some fans are just tired of seeing the Russian flag at the top of every podium. 

And with Katsuki’s third year fans are hoping to see some progress in the overthrowing of the King of the Ice. At the young age of 17, will Japan’s Ace come out on top against his battle with the Living Legend? Nikiforov is now 21, almost at the peak of his career, and if Katsuki doesn’t beat him in his prime, some are afraid he will never be able to measure up to Nikiforov. 

Good luck, Yuuri!

@jennelskatees

oh my god, Yuuri is 17??? he’s barely legal!!!

@kaseypulisen

Sometimes i forget just how young these people are. At 17 I was sneaking alcohol and getting wasted.

@hunny

I’m just afraid that katsuki won’t beat nikiforov before he’s old. Once viktor is old it wouldn’t be such a fair competition

@picturepurfect

PHICHIT SHOUDLVE GOTTEN GOLD ARHGAHRGARHG

We try training like Russian Skaters for a week!

Phichit+Chu 18k

945,821 views Oct 15 THE RUSSIAN SKATING ROUTINE HAS FINALLY BEEN LEAKED MUAHHAHA!!! Just kidding. But seriously, guys, we literally couldn’t …more

10k Likes    Dislike   Share   Download   Save   ・・・

[phichit setting up the camera]

“GUYS WE FINALLY FOUND THE SECRET THAT KEEPS RUSSIA ON TOP!”

[yuuri, from behind the camera] “And by that, he means that he pieced together enough of Plisetsky’s complaints on Twitter to find out how they train on a daily basis.”

“It’s gruelling! It’s back-breaking! It’s relentless! It’s… what other adjectives are there?”

“The point is, we’re going to train like them for a week. And we’re going to upload our humiliation – I mean progress, for the world to see.”

[phichit gives a thumbs up.] “See you all bright and early at 5a.m. tomorrow!”

[cutscene. MONDAY]

[the room is dark, the only light illuminating phichit’s face coming from his phone] 

“Ugh. Why do people say bright and early when the sun isn’t even out yet.”

“We gotta get going if we want to finish cardio by six, Phich.”

[rustling bedsheets, a thud where yuuri rolled off the bed and fell onto the floor]

[phichit mutters] “I’m so glad I’m not Russian.”

[cutscene. ciao ciao holding the camera at his two skaters as he comentates] “I’ve never seen them this shaky. They look exhausted. Time check, it is 6:30, and I don’t think I’ve ever gotten them out of bed this early before. Maybe I should start making them do more social media challenges.”

[phichit flops onto the ice and stays there]

[cutscene. The two skaters having dinner]

[phichit’s hand shaking as he picks up his chopsticks] “Oh my god. I am dying.”

[yuuri, straight faced] “And this is only day one.”

[phichit lets out a sob]

[cutscene. phichit filming yuuri as he glides across the ice]

“It is currently wednesday. I am not showing my face because I look hideous, and we forgot to film the whole of yesterday. I don’t know if I can keep at this for much longer. I’m so sorry for every thing I ever said, Russian Yuri. You were right. I am a weak ass hoe and you definitely can steal my kneecaps.”

[cutscene. ciao ciao filming as his boys do some morning cardio]

“It’s the last day! Thank goodness. Can you believe that the Russians go on through Saturday? I would love to, but American Labour Law would probably prevent that. Keep going, kids!”

[phichit, in between wheezes] “You’re a sadist!”

“You wanted to do this challenge, Piccolo.”

[phichit pauses, a blank, empty look in his eyes] “ I’m a sadist.”

[cutscene. phichit and yuuri in their room. it is night out and they both have prominent bags under their eyes]

“I can’t believe we’re alive.” [phichit has lost all sense of reality. he barely knows where the camera is]

“I can’t believe Yuri and gang have to continue this tomorrow.”

“Poor Yuri!” [phichit sobs, hands on his cheeks] “Oh my god. I’m not even mad they win gold. Going through all this shit, they deserve it. I’ll never complain about second place ever again for the rest of my life.”

“I’m not sure PR will let us post that.”

“Whatever. They need a life. Some work-life balance would do them good. All the tabloids saying Viktor gets mad pussy are wrong, because there’s no way he has enough energy after all this to have sex.”

“Phichit!”

“They are also wrong in saying that he gets pussy in the first place.”

“PHI–”

[cutscene. ciao ciao filming his boys in bed, then zooming in on the clock, which read 1 pm]

[cutscene. ciao ciao is in his room, camera stopping over every picture frame of him and his boys on his desk]

“Well, I think we’ve all learned a valuable lesson here.

[yuuri’s first junior gold under ciao ciao, the three of them in a group hug] 

“There is more to life than winning. And boys, when you wake up, I want you to think about this long and hard. 

[phichit on roller skates for the first time, mid-fall as yuuri laughs in the background]

“Especially you, Yuuri. 

[yuuri and his family at the airport]

“Do you want to give up your life,

[yuuri and phichit posing with ciao ciao’s braided hair]

“Your youth, your freedom,

[yuuri and phichit cooking in ciao ciao’s kitchen]

“Just for a gold medal and a fleeting moment of happiness?

[phichit holding his yuuri banner, and yuuri holding his phichit banner]

“Or will you be content with these moments of happiness in your life? Ones that you experience every day?

[ciao ciao and his boys, each wearing their silver medal with a big grin on their face]

“What matters most is not the destination, but the journey. I hope you two will quit being so hard on yourselves. I’m proud of you both no matter what.”

[cutscene. phichit and yuuri, both better rested and less dead inside]

“Thanks, dad, for your sappy conclusion to our badass post.”

“We were half dead the whole time, Phichit.”

“Whatever! So, Yuuri. Why don’t you reply to Ciao Ciao? Will you or will you not sacrifice everything – your sanity and mental well-being – to win gold?”

“Who said I had any mental well-being to begin with?”

“Answer the question!”

[yuuri pauses. he glaces at his bottom drawer, then at the camera with fierce determination]

[the video ends]

“Yuuuuriiiii,” Phichit drawled, nudging his best friend. “You have to answer the question.”

Yuuri paused. “I… don’t have an answer.”

“That’s fine! I’ll just cut the video, leave it suspenseful.” Hopping out of his seat, Phichit went to stop the camera recording. “Now, time to edit!”

As Phichit skipped to his seat, Yuuri remained in his chair, facing the empty tripod, thinking of Ciao Ciao’s words. He had already achieved the goal he set what seemed like an eternity ago. All of figure skating media knows his name, knows his worth. 

But, as Lilia’s voice reminded him, all of figure skating media knows him as the second best figure skater in the world.

Not that second best was shabby. He should be proud of being second best. After the tribulations he faced the previous year, he would never take second best for granted ever again.

But was second best enough for him for forever? Would he want to spend his life, only known for being beside Viktor, never on the centre podium? Because no one would let him forget it, right? If he went his whole career never once having beat Viktor, it would be seen as a pity. His fans would’ve rooted for nothing, his hard work, his dedication, gone to waste, for he would never have the chance to say that he was the best.

Another nagging thought in the back of his mind scared him. What if this was the best he could do? That he could ever achieve? Bound to second best for all of eternity, on the heels of his once biggest idol?

Something clicked in Yuuri then. His immature, childish goal of being a household figure skating name had vanished, seemingly behind Yuuri now that he was greater. He wanted to be the best skater he could be. And he desperately hoped that that skater was better than Viktor, no matter how unbelievable it may sound.

He’s already so close to Viktor’s excellence, Yuuri reminded himself. Maybe if he trained the same amount, put in the same efforts, he might achieve what so many people expect him to.

Clenching his jaw, he stood up and reached for his training bag. He had a month to push himself to his limits. He could do that, right?

“So, are you taking the American tests?” Mari asked, taking a drag of her cigarette.

“I mean, what else would I take?”

“Ma and Pa miss you.” Despite her attempt at a diversion, Yuuri could read between the lines.

“I haven’t read anything remotely academic in Japanese in years. I’ll bomb the Centre Test. Besides, I’ve already begun ACT prep, and if I’m going to stay with Ciao Ciao, I need to go to an American college anyway,” Yuuri argued.

Mari paused, exhaling the smoke into the camera. “You know. When we sent you away at 13 to chase your dreams, we didn’t expect you to stay away for the rest of your life.”

A wave of guilt washed over Yuuri, and he fought down the turmoil rising up in his stomach. “Well, what did you expect?”

“Don’t take that tone with me, young man,” Mari bit back. “Why are you even going to university if you’re such a big shot skater.”

“It’s not like I can skate forever.” Standing up, Yuuri began to pace around his rooms. “So, when I inevitably retire, I’ll come home.”

“Won’t you be too Americanised to even speak Japanese?”

“We’re having a fluent conversation now, aren’t we?”

Mari tsked, putting her cigarette out. “Look. Ma and Pa miss you, alright? Wouldn’t do you any harm to appease them and take the Centre. It’s on your off-season, it’s a solid reason to come back without them feeling like they're ‘taking you away from your job’ or whatever, and you know. It would be nice to see their son again, for more than like two weeks.”

He knew there was no arguing his way out of this. “Fine.”

“Good. Call me if you need anything, like a translator for your redneck accent.”

“Fuck off.”

“The Centre Test and ACTs? Yuuri, are you sure?” Ciao Ciao asked, concern dripping from his tone.

“The Centre Test is in July, and if I sign up for May ACTs, it’s one month to prepare for each after Worlds.” Yuuri, having already thought this through, showed his registration papers to Ciao Ciao. “I got this, Ciao Ciao. Have a little faith.”

As Yuuri left the room, visibly a little dimmer, Ciao Ciao grew worried for his skater.

With the GPF up in a week, Yuuri was unsurprisingly skating till the wee hours of the morning in his rink. At about 3am, he received a call, shocking him in the quiet rink.

Picking up the phone, Yuuri smiled. “What’s up, Yuuko?”

“Mari told me you’re coming back for the Centre Test!” Yuuko exclaimed, her voice high and excited.

“Yep. You did well last year, right?”

“Pretty average,” Yuuko admitted, a little softer. “I want to wish you good luck, though! Takeshi will also be taking it with you this year!”

Yuuri’s face fell a little at the mention of Takeshi’s name. “Oh. Great.”

“I think he’s already begun preparations. I mean, it’s only half a year away!”

“Y-yeah.”

“Well, good luck again, Yuuri!” Yuuko’s tone was warm and comforting, but they couldn’t be any further from Yuuri’s emotions. “I know you’re gonna crush it! Bye!”

After Yuuko hung up, Yuuri stared at his skates, wondering if he should start preparing too. After a minute of silent, anxious contemplation, he decided to worry about it after the GPF. He had already spent so much time and effort into training – there was no point in stopping in the last leg of the race. 

Ignoring the gnawing anxiety at the back of his head, Yuuri resumed skating. Maybe he’ll text his therapist and talk this through with her in the morning. 

Chapter Text

Yuuri medalled gold with ease in his first two events leading up to the GPF. Even Phichit came in gold and silver for both his qualifying events, and Yuuri couldn’t have been prouder of him. As they checked into their hotel for the GPF, Yuuri’s nose was stuck in his textbook as Phichit mindlessly scrolled through his instagram.

“Caption, when… your… best… friend… is… a… big… nerd…” Phichit emphasised, earning a dirty look from Yuuri.

“I gotta study, Phich,” Yuuri defended, highlighting another sentence. He had to cram the entire history of Japan and East Asia in these couple of months. He didn’t know if he remembered anything anymore.

“As I said, what a nerd,” Phichit echoed, rolling off the sofa. “I’ll go find Plisetsky. Maybe he’ll be up to something cooler.”

Phichit left the lobby, the sound of his typing keyboard an invisible aura around him, as Yuuri remained on the couch, engrossed in his book. 

“Finally, the twentieth century,” Yuuri sighed, flipping to the next page. “The Russo-Japanese war. Shit. There isn’t a single universe where I memorise any of these names.”

Closing his book, he tossed it away in frustration, hands going up to massage his temples. If he did become a high-school drop out, he could still coach, right? He made a mental note to ask Ciao Ciao if he had ever finished highschool.

When he found the energy to open his eyes again, a tall, looming figure stood before him, his textbook held open by long, slender fingers.

“Wow! I didn’t know you’re still learning Japanese in America! Are you going back to Japan for University?”

Yuuri gaped in silence as Viktor flipped through the pages of the book, humming every so often at a page he seemed to like. 

It was so casual, so friendly, as if the events last year hadn’t happened at all.

Abruptly, he glanced up, and Yuuri choked under the intensity of his blue eyes. “I would’ve expected you to pursue an American education…?” Viktor prompted.

“I- uh.” Shaking his head, Yuuri forced himself to collect his thoughts. “I am. I mean, I want to. But my parents want me to take the Centre Test too, so…”

“That’s a lot of testing,” Viktor mused, his attention returning once more to the book. “I remember learning about this back when I still went to school. Of course, that was before my career consumed me.”

Yuuri couldn’t think too long about his words before Viktor spun into another sentence. 

“Speaking of! I saw your video, on YouTube!”

Paling visibly, Yuuri gulped. “You… did?”

“Yes!” Nodding eagerly, Viktor closed the book and placed it beside Yuuri gently. “You guys made it sound much more horrible than it actually is. Yura isn’t exactly a very reliable source of information.”

At a loss of words, Yuuri decided to just let Viktor continue the conversation. 

“I could give you our real schedule if you’d like! Of course, don’t tell Yakov,” Viktor offered, smiling brightly.

Yuuri furrowed his eyebrows. He took a moment to look at Viktor, and truly look at Viktor. Viktor didn’t seem malicious, or nervous, or anything he would’ve thought Viktor to feel. He didn’t expect him to be so flippant about their history, but upon second thought, what did he expect Viktor to be?

And as Yuuri thought further, he realised that the wounds Viktor had inflicted last year were shallow, surface wounds that were a complete mistake on his part. Yuuri even felt a little embarrassed at his extreme reaction to Viktor’s reasonable comments. They weren’t anything, hardly even friends, and Yuuri had only felt so hurt because he had built Viktor up so much in his mind. In the night sky, Viktor was the moon, whereas Yuuri could ever only come close to being a distant star. But as Viktor stood in front of him, after having hurt Yuuri, he seemed less of a god, and more of a person. 

He has healed since then, as time heals all wounds. And with the help of his friends, he was himself again. There was hardly a hint of a scar.

So, if Viktor wanted to pretend that it was all water under the bridge, Yuuri could do that. He exhaled, releasing any grudges he had toward Viktor, and took his textbook and placed it on his lap.

His voice was steady and firm when he asked, “Would you care to sit? Maybe you could quiz me on some Russian Commanders.”

When Viktor entered the lobby, the drab interior allowed his gaze to focus on the one thing that truly mattered – Katsuki Yuuri sleeping in the middle of the sofa.

Gliding over, Viktor tried to remain as silent as possible so as to not wake him up. Only when he was closer to Yuuri did he realise Yuuri was actually awake, and just taking a moment to close his eyes.

He had gotten taller since he last saw him. And broader. Yuuri was looking less like a boy now, and has started growing into his own. He admired the way his shirt stretched over his biceps as he rubbed his temples, the small scrunch of his eyebrows as he worked his migraine away.

Viktor couldn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes. Was Yuuri not getting enough sleep?

He must’ve spent too long staring, because Yuuri’s hands were slowly returning to his sides. In a flash of panic, Viktor snatched up the book laying on the couch beside him, flipping to a random page to feign reading.

As his eyes scanned over the page, pretending to actually care about the book, he was surprised to find that the script was written in kanji, and not in English as he would’ve expected.

He saw Yuuri’s eyes flutter open, and before he could stop himself, his mouth ran on autopilot.

Yuuri barely responded, probably still in shock. After all, Viktor did carelessly break his heart just a year ago. He couldn’t blame Yuuri if he chose to hold a grudge.

Eventually, Yuuri opened up, and when he invited Viktor to sit next to him, nothing could’ve gotten Viktor to reject that request. As they spoke about superficial topics like school and war, Viktor felt a warmth blossom in his chest over this new normal with Yuuri.

It seemed so domestic, so natural. Viktor didn’t think it was possible to be in love with Yuuri even more, but right then, he fell a little deeper.

When Yakov entered the lobby, already having lost three of his four skaters, he was in a sour mood. As soon as they had exited the car, Yuri disappeared to find some friends he claimed to have, and to Yakov’s great surprise, Georgi followed suit. Lord knows why, the two of them bicker almost as much as he and Livia did. Well, every one of his skaters bickered. Except for maybe Georgi and Viktor. They both got along well with their ditsy, lovelorn attitudes. 

And then, as paparazzi and cameras started flocking to their limo, Yakov realised that Airhead #1 disappeared too, and that he was left only with Mila hiding behind him. 

“Feltsman! Where is Nikiforov? Shouldn’t he be with you?”

“Do you have any comments on your skater’s programmes?”

“What happened when Plisetsky stumbled in his short programme? Is he too young to be competing?”

Mila popped her head out behind Yakov, scowling at the reporters. “Plisetsky stumbled doing a back counter triple axel you ass! Can you even skate?”

Yakov sighed. Surely, the hotel would have more class and tact to prevent these things from happening? He made a note to remind the hotel rather curtly afterwards, but for the time being, he had to focus on keeping Mila safe from the pap. 

Or, as he glanced at Mila, keep the pap safe from her. 

When they finally managed to enter the hotel, Yakov was surprised to find Viktor on the couch next to Katsuki, seemingly engaged in a lively conversation. He was even more surprised when, as he approached, he realised that they were talking about… Russian history?

Viktor caught sight of Yakov as he closed in on them, and he waved excitedly at Yakov. With a bright smile on his face, Viktor called out in Russian, “Yakov! Look, Yuuri is talking to me!”

“I can see that.”

“If you get in between this again, I’ll create a scandal that’ll ruin your entire career,” Viktor threatened, smiling brightly. “Anyway, I overheard that there is some shortage in rooms. I don’t mind sharing with Georgie if there is a need to.”

Yakov nodded solemnly, his face not giving a single hint as to the conversation exchanged. Viktor went back to talking with Yuuri, and Mila giggled to herself behind Yakov.

As he walked to the reception, he passed by Celestino who was just leaving. When he realised Yakov was there, Celestino pointedly looked at their boys, and then back at Yakov with a meaningful gleam in his eyes. 

Yakov knew that even though this coach was new, probably only half his age and with less than a quarter of his experience in years. But he could tell he was already fully devoted to his children, willing to do anything to see them succeed. Yakov had always known that Celestino was a better coach than most, but he never thought to keep an eye on him as a competitor until recently. 

Yakov tilted his head slightly downwards in a slight nod, and Celestino gave him a small smile. Yakov knew to stay away from the boys, just as Celestino did. 

“I’m glad he’s better,” he said gruffly.

Celestino smiled, a little bittersweet. “Me too. And I’m glad yours is as well.”

Giving a curt nod, Yakov left, not wanting this conversation to drag on any longer than it had to. As he spoke to the receptionist, he tried to ignore the curious prods from Mila behind him.

Watch livestream

[phichit and yuri facing the camera, yuri looking bored and phichit bouncing in his chair]

“So, today we have a very special guest! Let’s put our hands together for Russia’s Fairy-”

“Ice tiger.”

“- Yuri Plisetskty!”

[a single person claps in the background]

“How are we feeling today, Yuri?”

“Why are we doing this? This is stupid. Do I get paid if I act like I care?”

“I don’t get royalties from livestreams.”

“Why am I even here? And what do we even talk about?”

“Well.” [phichit pauses, placing his hand on his chin in thought] “Why don’t we talk about something close to home! Like… the Nikiforov-Katuski rivalry.”

“Tch. We both support Katsuki. What’s more to say?”

“Oh… Then, let’s talk about our own rivalry! What do you have to say about snatching my gold away from me at the last World Championship.”

[yuri scoffs, rolling his eyes at phichit] “My piece was choreographed by the skater with the best PCS. Yours is a silly dance to a silly musical.”

[phichit opens his mouth to protest, but georgi’s voice from behind the camera interrupts him] “The King and the Skater was an award winning masterpiece!”

“Thank you. And besides, Yuuri choreographed my programme this year! So I’m gonna win.”

“Over my dead body. You skate like a slinky.”

“You rude little shit.”

[georgi from behind the camera] “Wasn’t the objective here to dispel myths regarding the Cialdini-Yakov rivalry?”

“That’s a thing? No wonder the senile old man was acting like that all week.”

“Ciao Ciao is obviously the better coach. A: his hairline.”

“I’m not even going to argue there.”

“B: he actually cares about his skaters.”

[yuri furrows his eyebrows] “Well.”

“And C: he’s totally a dilf, whereas Yakov is a has-been.”

[yuri shrugs]

[georgi scowls] “Shouldn’t you defend your coach in front of a thousand live viewers?”

“Fine. Maybe point B is debatable, but everything else stands.”

Yuuri shut the door behind him, heart fluttering a little in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. He and Viktor were talking again! They were fine now. It was all fine. They had cleared it up, and Yuuri was free of grudges held. 

But the more he thought about it, the more his mind started spinning. He and Viktor were still rivals. Their relationship will continue to be complicated indefinitely. As much as he liked Viktor, as he yearned to be his friend, Yuuri had to acknowledge that their private relationship could only go so far before it started interfering with their professional relationship.

Yuuri felt his mind fall into the chain of self-deprecation, and he managed to catch himself just in time. As his therapist said, he couldn’t allow himself to spiral. He had to stop, be mindful, and write out his concerns to evaluate them when he was more clear-headed.

Grabbing his notebook, he scribbled down his train of thought, making a mental note to return to this after the competition. Once he was done, he closed it and placed it in his bag, before taking out a textbook to distract him from his wandering mind.

When Viktor entered the warm-up room, he was immediately greeted by Chris. The blonde smiled widely and enveloped Viktor in a hug, which Viktor happily returned. Upon breaking away, Viktor’s attention was drawn to the other side of the room. Yuuri stood with one leg in the air, doing a split, as he highlighted a textbook he had brought with him.

Chris must’ve noticed his line of sight. “He was like that at the Cup of China too. Did a whole practice test before his free skate.”

Furrowing his brow, Viktor scanned around the room. “Where’s his coach?”

“Celestino only follows Yuuri to the major ones. He’s with Phichit for his free skate right now.”

“And his student’s senior GPF short programme is not a major one?” Viktor questioned. His gaze fell back to Yuuri again, and the way his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on the book, how his leg changed positions every so often to enhance the stretch.

Chris shrugged, as if to say he wasn’t Celestino. “I think he would prefer it if we left him alone.”

Reluctantly, Viktor let himself be dragged away to a separate corner, though his eyes remained fixated on Yuuri his whole warm-up. Every time he flipped a page, he shifted his stretching position, though his eyes never strayed from the text. His neon yellow highlighter sat between his teeth whenever not in use, and his brow furrowed in concentration. Viktor wondered what it would be like to touch it, maybe prevent Yuuri from getting a wrinkle or two.

“Viktor.” Yakov’s gruff voice broke his silent pining, and Viktor’s head snapped to where his coach stood near the door. He nodded once, and as he got ready to leave, he spared a glance back at Yuuri. 

To his surprise, Yuuri was staring right at him, and even gave him a warm smile as he shut his book. Viktor smiled back, and the last thing he saw before the blinding lights of the rink was Yuuri mouthing the words “Good luck” to him. 

The crowd roared around him as Viktor stepped off the rink. He was exhausted, having packed an insane amount of jumps into his choreography, but the aches of his bones seemed to disappear when a familiar blue jacket came into view. 

Yuuri stood at the edge of the rink, clapping excitedly as he smiled broadly at Viktor. As Viktor approached the exit, Yuuri shrugged his jacket off, throwing it onto a nearby chair, and got ready to get onto the ice. Right as Viktor stepped off, Yuuri bumped shoulders with him.

“Breathtaking,” Yuuri whispered, right as applause deafened the arena. Viktor’s heart sped up, and it wasn’t because of his skating.

“As are you,” Viktor mumbled back, but it was lost in the thunder of the crowd as Yuuri skated forward.

When Yuuri met Ciao Ciao and Phichit that evening, he couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Guess who beat Nikiforov’s short programme?” He drawled, a smug smile etched onto his face.

“That’s my best friend!” Phichit cheered, tackling Yuuri in a hug. “And soon, you’ll be standing on top of him! On the podium, I mean. Or, unless you’re into that…?”

Giving Phichit a friendly punch, Yuuri was quick to change the subject. “Congrats on silver, Phich. I’m really happy for you.”

“That only means something when you stop complaining about your silvers,” Phichit deadpanned, earning another half-hearted punch from Yuuri. “Anyway, who cares what you think, because I got freaking silver. I want to eat so much I cannot move tomorrow. I googled it, and Chinatown isn’t far from here, and there are a shit ton of roadside food that I want to try.”

Behind them, Ciao Ciao sighed.

Yuuri was feeling himself before his free skate. For the first time, not only did his short programme triumph Viktor’s, but he was almost certain that his free skate would too. It really pushed Yuuri to the limits of his athletic abilities, and with a technical score close to Viktor’s, as well as no unforeseen circumstances to suddenly thwart his performance, he had a real, tangible chance of beating Viktor this season. 

He had worked himself to the bone the past year. When he wasn’t studying, or eating, or being dragged out by Phichit to ‘have a life’, Yuuri was at the rink, facing fall after fall and failure after failure, just to polish his quads. They had improved drastically, and Yuuri knew this was the closest he had ever truly gotten to beating Viktor.

The sound of his footsteps ricocheted through the empty corridor as he smiled to himself. He could win today. This might be it. The day he had waited for for so long.

Another trail of footsteps joined him in the otherwise empty corridor, and Yuuri felt the presence of someone walking just slightly behind him. A throat cleared, and Yuuri stopped just long enough for Viktor Nikiforov to match his pace.

“You’re putting a lot of pressure on me, Yuuri,” Viktor teased, winking at Yuuri. “I don’t think I’ve seen Yakov this stressed.”

Smirking, Yuuri glanced sideways at Viktor, raising a single eyebrow. “He should be. I’ll be the one to dethrone his prized skater today.”

Viktor gave a low whistle, his face still set in a smile he couldn’t get rid off. “As his prized skater, I’m gonna have to let you know that no matter how cute you are, I won’t go easy on you.”

Heat rushed to Yuuri’s cheeks. His eyes widened, and he tried to muster a response between his sputters, Viktor continued.

“But as your friend,” He said sincerely, “I’ll be happy if you did.”

Taking a deep breath, Yuuri collected himself up enough to reply, “Thank you, Viktor.”

His brain was still short-circuiting at the conversation, but Viktor seemed to have no qualms with casually flirting with a guy who’s had a crush on him for years. Of course, he couldn’t have known that. “By the way, ‘dethrone his prized skater’ sounds… kinda lame. I’d personally prefer ‘deflower’ instead.”

If Yuuri’s face could’ve gotten any redder, it would’ve. Stopping in his tracks, Yuuri just stared at Viktor, mouth agape, as he tried to formulate any coherent thought. “Uhhhh…”

“Yuuri!” Ciao Ciao’s loud voice boomed, shocking Yuuri and saving him from his embarrassment. “There you are! We need to get going. Hello, Viktor.”

“Hello, Celestino,” Viktor greeted, flashing him a charming smile. “Goodluck to you both today! I’d be lying if I said the competition isn’t stiff, but they don’t call me King of the Ice for nothing.”

Rolling his eyes, Ciao Ciao smiled almost fondly as Viktor entered the room, leaving a still red-faced Yuuri behind.

“Have you been doing cardio?” Ciao Ciao questioned, ushering his skater into the room. “You seem a little out of breath.”

Yuuri had always been able to watch most of Viktor’s performances. Having always finished his free skate right before Viktor, he managed to catch the tail ends of each performance, and he’ll watch the rerun of it millions and millions of times in the solace of his blanket. 

A knocking nag at the back of his mind urged him to go out and take a look. So rarely did he get to watch the entirety of Viktor’s free skate. But he knew it would only make him anxious, and despite his self-destructive tendencies, he really, really wanted to win.

To distract himself instead, he flipped open his advanced chemistry book, repeated footwork mindlessly around the room as he memorised his organic chemistry. It wasn’t long before Ciao Ciao called him to go up, and tossing the book aside, Yuuri prepared himself to face the cold ice.

As he walked out, the slowly fading applause for Viktor reached a crescendo once more as the audience caught sight of Yuuri. Yuuri waited politely for Viktor to step off the ice.

He was sweaty, his face flushed, and he was panting even harder than usual. Beside him, he noticed even Yakov giving Viktor a slow applause, and he felt a slight twinge of regret at missing what seemed to be a spectacular show.

Shaking his head, he rid himself of those thoughts. He had to focus on his skating. After returning Viktor’s smile, Yuuri prepped himself.

The ice was smooth under his blades, and as he got into his starting position, he was acutely aware of every inch of himself. He had to be perfect. 

As the music strung its starting chords, Yuuri began to dance, weaving an intricate design with his body. Every shift of his hips, every flick of his wrist, was carefully crafted for the music, and perfectly executed as he glided across the ice. The cold air was crisp as he inhaled, filling him with a sense of calm and clarity. He could do this. He could win.

Even before he struck his final pose, thunderous applause shook the arena. He couldn’t inhale air into his desperate lungs quick enough, but instead of the cold, sinking dread that usually came with his panic attacks, his need for oxygen was now accompanied by a hot, burning sense of pride and exhaustion. He had skated his absolute best today. For the first time in a long while, he was proud of himself. 

As he headed towards the exit, he caught Viktor at the side, clapping excitedly as he waited for Yuuri to step off the ice. Viktor waited patiently for Ciao Ciao to hand Yuuri his skate guards before gushing his compliments. “You were flawless, Yuuri. I couldn’t look away.”

Yuuri gave him a sheepish, but tired, smile, and allowed himself to be dragged to the Kiss and Cry by Ciao Ciao. Some other time, he might have relished in his words. But Yuuri was truly and completely exhausted.

Collapsing onto the bench, he watched as the numbers on the board flickered, too tired to be anxious. And when they finally rested on the final score, Yuuri grinned excitedly as Ciao Ciao’s roar of triumph shook the bench.

200.97! Yuuri had broken the world record of 199.89, previously set by Viktor! He couldn’t believe it, he –

Watched, in a horrified paralysis, as his name, along with the Japanese flag, rose to the top of the scoreboard, but stopped right under the Russian flag.

It took Yuuri a split second to read Viktor’s free skate score – 210.46. 

The same sinking feeling from a season ago returned, but this time, the disappointment was a million times more crushing. He had given it his all, he had broken a previous world record – only for Viktor to one up him again. 

He felt his chest physically constrict when his eyes shifted right and he took in the total scores. His was 307.01. 

And the score directly above his was 308.00.

Suddenly, the warmth and exhilaration of his skate left his body, and Yuuri was left feeling very, very cold.