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At the time, Viktor didn't have the presence of mind to linger on it. Yuuri was in front of him, crying and yelling, teaching Viktor an important lesson about the kind of unwavering support he needs.
But now, the next morning, it echoes in his mind, filled with so much emotion: "I know!"
Words he didn't expect and doesn't know what to make of.
The back of Viktor's hand has a big, ugly bruise from the way it hit the ice, getting slammed into it by Yuuri's head that he'd protected. He'd endured pain for years for the lesser reward of improved skill. Yesterday it earned him a smile that melted his heart with its warmth.
It was even better that evening. In the privacy of their hotel room, the second was theirs alone. As was the third, the fourth, the fifth, and every kiss after, until they lost count in the heat between them. Until Yuuri fell asleep under him, exhausted.
Still in bed, they spend the morning cuddling close, sharing warmth. He could easily grow addicted to the feeling of Yuuri's skin against his.
"Yuuri?"
"Hmm?" comes the response, muffled into Viktor's chest, where he hides from the morning sunlight.
"Earlier, when I said I'd resign—"
"When you acted like an idiot."
"—When I acted like an idiot. You said you were worried that I secretly wanted to leave. But when I said I don't, you said you know that. Which is it?"
"Both."
"So... You weren't entirely sure I wanted to stay?"
"No, it's not... It's not in between. It's both. I was completely sure. But I was also worried."
"How does that work?"
Yuuri pulls back a little. He squints at the light, or maybe glares at the window. His morning expressions are hilariously grouchy.
"It's like..." he starts and trails off. "Um... It's like lying in bed in a dark room, and there's a shape in the corner that feels like it's a strange person, or even a monster. And you know it's just a pile of clothes but it still makes you uncomfortable."
"Huh. Do you have a lot of worries like that?"
Yuuri blinks at him and smiles slowly, like Viktor said something endearing or amusing. "Yes. A lot."
"A dark room full of weird shapes."
"Weird shapes and shadows, yes. Some days are better than others."
"And today?"
Yuuri kisses him. "So far, today is very bright. It's nice. Quiet."
Viktor cups his cheek. "I'll try to keep it that way."
A light, airy laughter. "You can't."
Yuuri says it easily, as if a dark reality of shifting shadows isn't horrifying.
Viktor wants to insist. He had to deal with his own darkness. A different one. Not full of worries, but empty. A void. Coming to Japan drove much of it away, and he can probably thank Yuuri and his family for that. If Yuuri could help with Viktor's draining melancholy, shouldn't Viktor be able to help with this?
But, on the other hand, Yuuri didn't exactly make it better himself. Yuuri offered him a path that he took, and jumping into it helped. Connecting with everyone in Hasetsu helped. Not being alone helped. Having reasons to create and skate that aren't just another medal. Focusing his attention on another person's talent and underutilized skill.
Yuuri is watching him quietly, calmly, with the traces of a smile on his lips. He's probably tracking his emotions, waiting for a response. He's getting to know Viktor so well.
"You don't have to say anything. Just stand by me."
Yuuri didn't save him. He doesn't need to save Yuuri.
"I'll be here, then," Viktor says, "when it does change."
Yuuri's eyes widen a fraction and then his expression softens. He kisses Viktor, slow and firm and sweet. That's how Viktor knows that this time, he said the right thing.