Chapter Text
The music wrapped around Yuuri’s body with its soft and familiar embrace as he glided on the pale ice. The world around him ceased to exist, fading into a quiet blur of hazy outlines and muffled sounds.
There was only Yuuri, the music, his dance, and the love of his life to whom he dedicated his last performance, standing not too far from him.
Time slowed down as his eyes met with Viktor’s, and Yuuri’s heart beamed with happiness so pure, that it was almost too much for a man to bear. This was his last performance as a competitive figure skater, but it didn’t feel like a farewell; it was the beginning of something new, something exciting, something he would experience with Viktor on his side, holding each other’s hands.
His dance tells the tale of their life before and after they met, and the life they will share in the future. It’s about their love that never once faded over their years. It’s Yuuri’s agape, declaration of his never-ending love for Viktor, that in turn taught him how to love himself as well. He was no longer the self-conscious little mouse who didn’t believe in himself; they brought out the best in each other.
Living skating legend and Russia’s Hero, Viktor Nikiforov retired at the age of thirty, two years after he quite literally jumped into Yuuri’s life, completely naked. They were together for almost six years now, but sometimes it felt like they’d known each other for decades.
They officially got engaged not long after Barcelona, and they skated through the Olympics as the power couple of the skater world.
Yuuri lifted his arms above his head in the step sequence before the last flip of his career and arching his back he looked at the ring on his finger. The light from above bounced off the golden ring that they both refused to take off during skating.
They got many offers from various famous jewelers when their wedding was announced, but it never crossed either of their minds to replace the rings Yuuri bought them in Barcelona. There was rarely a day when Viktor hadn’t absentmindedly lifted Yuuri’s hand to his mouth to litter his fingers and the ring with gentle kisses, while his crystal blue eyes, looking off to the distance, were shining brightly with the light of past memories.
Yuuri closed his eyes for a moment too, to visualize Viktor’s peaceful expression, and then opened them to look for him on the edge of the rink. He was watching Yuuri with so much adoration, so much trust, and so much pride.
The touch of his lips was still warm on Yuuri’s ring finger, the memory of the kiss he gave him before Yuuri stepped on the ice. For some time, he thought he’d be sad to leave competing behind, but as his gaze found Viktor’s right before launching himself into the quadruple flip, he found himself smiling and eager to finally get on with the jump so he could hug his love.
There is no love like our love, he said with each moving muscle. We’re meant for each other.
He let the momentum of his body carry him, and he kicked himself in the air.
Viktor always told him that Yuuri skated like he was swimming in water or flying in the air, his motions fluid, his body morphing to the shape of the music, and Yuuri never felt more beautiful in his life than in those few seconds above the ice.
He knew it was perfect, his brain registering in a split second before even hitting the ice that the last jump of his career, his husband’s signature flip, was a perfect one.
He landed flawlessly and heard the crowd he completely forgot about shout and cheer for him in the distance. Viktor jumped in the air with tears in his eyes, shouting “That’s my husband!”
He’s done it! He landed the quadruple flip!
There is no love...
It happened less than a second after his skate hit the ice.
There was a loud snap, and the toe pick of his skate wedged itself into the ice.
His foot was yanked out from under his body.
He didn’t have time to register what happened before his body was suddenly weightless.
The flat, shiny surface of the ice flew at him at a dangerous speed and smashed against Yuuri.
The lights go out.
...like our love.
♡♡♡
Japanese figure skater Yuuri Katsuki suffers fatal accident during the 2022 Olympics
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Yuuri Katsuki dead aged 29: The tragic end of the most famous couple in figure skating! Viktor Nikiforov stays silent
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Japanese figure skater champion dies after ‘tragic accident’ during last performance: An inside job?
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Watch the video of Katsuki Yuuri’s fall here!!! Interview with Viktor Nikiforov?!?!
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Tragic accident leaves fans and the world in shock: What happens now? (video)
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The skating world in mourning: Paying reverence to Yuuri Katsuki
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Tragic figure skating accident rumored to be a deliberate attempt of murder? Find out more…
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[Top 10 Scariest falls in figure skating in history]
2,432,532 views
Comments > 318
Top Comments ˅
halocat (2 hours ago)
came here because of katsuki :(
view all (7) replies ˅
kate (1 hour ago)
me too :’(
Danny Ranson (1 day ago)
for anyone concerned, Ivan (the guy in the blue) is alright now and has recovered
view all (10) replies ˅
mr fu (3 hours ago)
this is heartbreaking. watch viktor’s face at 12:35
enyx (1 day ago)
when girls fall everyone is so worried but nobody gives a shit about male figure skaters
view all (17) replies ˅
M Betty (1 day ago)
its so disrespectful to include Katsuki Yuuri here
idk no name (1 hour ago)
when viktor runs to him on the ice, my heart just…
view all (24) replies ˅
catiliche (1 day ago)
it should be illegal to put videos of people’s deaths on the internet >:( very disrespectful!!!
John H G (1 day ago)
I’m genuinely so upset, how do we live in a world where the top skaters’ equipment isn’t properly checked?! this seriously shows just how outdated the Olympics are
view all (6) replies ˅
[Viktor Nikiforov x Yuuri Katsuki ♡ ]
5,763,374 views
Comments > 625
Top Comments ˅
katsukifan (1 day ago)
so beautiful! rest in peace Yuuri <<3
view all (61) replies ˅
grumpycatlives (6 hours ago)
im not crying, you’re crying
view all (24) replies ˅
j may (2 hours ago)
Stop, this is so not funny, be respectful!!
imjohanna (12 hours ago)
Such a beautiful compilation of their relationship!
spicybagels (2 hours ago)
omg 3:14 ToT we will never forget The Kiss
view all (6) replies ˅
chubby blobfish (8 hours ago)
5:21 look how happy they are, this is such a tragedy
franklin (1 day ago)
I hope Viktor is okay:(
♡♡♡
“Yuuri…”
Oh, god, what is this?
“Yuuri?”
This must be hell... My head… Fuck, it hurts so much…
He opened his mouth to talk, eyes closed, but the sounds coming from his throat would barely qualify as the breathing of a dying animal. Everything hurt; his head, his eyes, his arms, legs, and for a long, agonizing minute Yuuri was sure that if he hadn’t died yet, it will happen soon because this was already purgatory.
“Yuuri!” he heard a voice, though his brain had a hard time processing the meaning of the word that was his own name.
“Viktor?” he mumbled with his eyes shut. The faint, flesh-colored light seeping through his eyelids was enough for his head to begin throbbing.
“Yuuri! Wake up! Practice is starting soon!”
Practice? He quit competitive skating, what was Viktor talking about?
Skating…
The Olympics…
He fell!
Slowly he opened his eyes, and the outlines of the room settled around him. It was small and familiar, but he didn’t recognize it immediately. There was a face hovering over him, and instinctively he cupped the cheeks of the man he thought to be Viktor.
He must have scared him to death.
Then he remembered the loud snap, the metallic sound that filled his mind again as he slowly woke from the hazy, dream-less sleep, and he felt the anxiety slowly creeping up in his stomach.
It was probably an equipment malfunction, he thought. Remembering the horrible sound of his body hitting the ice after his leg got yanked to the side, he shivered and figured that the blade must have been broken in half.
Shit… it’s probably lucky that I’m alive.
The fall would’ve explained his terrible headache and why he was lying in a bed, though this room looked nothing like a hospital. He concluded with wondering eyes that still couldn’t focus on anything for too long that he really was lucky to be alive. But why was his vision so blurry? He got surgery two years ago, and it’s been a while since he felt like he needed his glasses. Did he hit his head and this was some side effect?
“Viktor, what happened?” he heard his voice. It was weak and trembling, the reality of his accident suddenly hitting him. He must’ve smashed his head against the ice. What if he suffered serious injuries, what if he got paralyzed, what if…?
“Yuuri, wake up!”
There was a hand on his shoulder, warm and familiar, and his eyes finally found the face of the person leaning above him. It wasn’t Viktor. It was Phichit Chulalont.
Yuuri stared at him in confusion. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be training in New York for the U.S. Figure Skating Championships with his fiancé, and not sitting on his hospital bed in Beijing.
“Phichit? What are you…” he asked somewhat as an accusation, his face contorting into a frown as his headache wedged a knife in his brain along with his words. Did he come here and left training just to visit him?
Phichit chuckled and the grin he’d been trying to hide stretched across his face, which Yuuri found more than weird. Was there something funny about the accident? “I was beginning to worry you kicked the bucket,” Phichit said.
Yuuri’s brows furrowed. Maybe he managed to fall in a very ridiculous and embarrassing way? But even then, Phichit would never be so cruel to joke about it.
He was eyeing his friend suspiciously. “Where is Viktor?” he asked. “What happened? My head is killing me. Did I fall?”
“Totally, but not to worry!” Phichit grinned even wider. “I got it all on camera!”
Is he fucking serious? And since when did Phichit watch his performance live in the arena, why didn’t he tell him that he was coming?
Seeing the serious expression on Yuuri’s face, Phichit’s smile faded a little and he leaned closer to examine him. “I brought you some pain killers and water, I thought you’ll need them. Here!”
Yuuri didn’t protest and gulped down the cold water along with the pills. “Where’s Viktor?” he asked for the third time, growing impatient from the pain he had to endure.
“Viktor?”
“Yes, Viktor!” Yuuri felt annoyed now. He had to see him before his anxiety really kicked him, he always knew how to calm him down, make him feel better. He was already thinking of the worst, of how he embarrassed the Katsuki-Nikiforov name by busting his last performance, how this will be the last thing people remember him for.
Quit while you’re ahead, people said, and Yuuri felt shame burning through his skin. It didn’t matter if it was the equipment that failed, it might as well be him. The result was the same.
Everyone told him to retire long ago, but he had to push it, he had to play dice with his luck, and this was the result. He was twenty-nine, still at the peak of his mind and physical state, but by skater standards he was ancient.
Maybe it was something to laugh at. He should’ve taken the advice of Yakov and Celestino, but he thought he had more time, just a bit more.
Tears began flooding the corners of his eyes, and all he wanted was to see Viktor, pull him in a tight embrace, and tell him how much he’s sorry for fucking up the beautiful piece that he planned, that they planned together.
There was a small wrinkle on Phichit’s forehead as he looked at him, concern washing over his face. “What Viktor?” he asked, unsure.
“Is there more than one?” Yuuri groaned and lifted his hand in front of Phichit. “The one I’m…”
He froze.
The ring was gone.
Where was the ring? Where was his wedding ring?
He stared at his hand and so did Phichit, though his reason was completely different.
“Where is it?” Yuuri choked on the words.
Then he sat up, dismissing the painful sting in his head with a hiss, and looked around. The world began spinning around him as he snapped his head left and right in confusion and panic.
He was in his old room in Detroit. Why was he here? Why was it exactly like it was years ago when he moved back to Japan? And all his things… his old coat, backpack, even his laptop that never made it out alive from that electronic shop in St. Petersburg where they tried to save it after a fatal pool accident, but Viktor just pleaded with him to let him buy a new one…
What the fuck was happening?
He began hyperventilating, and he felt Phichit’s hands on his shoulders, his voice concerned and confused, but he barely heard him. “Yuuri, you need to lie down. Are you still drunk? Do you need some more water?”
“I don’t need water,” Yuuri breathed between two frantic inhales of air. “I need Viktor!”
“Okay, it’s okay,” Phichit tried to calm him as he pushed him down on the mattress, clearly not giving any credit to Yuuri’s words. “How about you stay in bed for the rest of the day? I’ll tell Celestino that you’re having a self-care day, celery juice cleansing, all the good stuff. I’ll even let my hamsters keep you company.”
“Celestino?” Yuuri choked on air and coughed up spit. “What is he doing in Beijing?”
Was he even still in Beijing? He couldn’t be, this was his room in Detroit. But why would they bring him here, why not to a hospital or back to his home with Viktor in St. Petersburg?
“Where is Viktor, Phichit?” Tears were running down Yuuri’s cheeks now, which frankly scared the hell out of Phichit. “Why is he not here?”
“Yuuri, angel, what Viktor?” Phichit asked him, growing more and more worried.
“Viktor Nikiforov, who else?” Yuuri blurted out a lot louder than his body approved, and he immediately yelped in pain as his head began throbbing again.
Phichit was not trying to hide his concern anymore. “Maybe you did hit your head a lot worse than I thought,” he mumbled, then grabbed his phone and jumped to his feet. “I’ll call coach, we’ll take you to the doctors, okay? Just don’t move, you’ll make it worse.”
“Of course, I hit my head,” Yuuri was panting. “I’m such an embarrassment!”
“Don’t say that! We all do clumsy things when we’re drunk,” Phichit tried to console him, but he just added fuel to the fire.
“You know I never drink before competitions, Phichit!” Yuuri cried into the pillow with his eyes closed shut, his voice filled with hurt and offense. “How could you ever assume that about me?”
Phichit opened his mouth to answer, but then there was a beep coming from his phone and he sighed in relief. “Hi, coach. …Yes, I’m sorry, I know, but Yuuri is not feeling well? I think he needs to go to the hospital. …Well,” his voice trailed off, and he carefully glanced at Yuuri, whose face was still buried in the pillow in agony. Phichit lowered his voice. “He’s scaring me, he’s saying weird things and I think he hit his head last night. …Okay. …Right. Thanks, coach, we’ll be down in ten.” He ended the call and gently nudged Yuuri’s shoulder. “Yuuri, you need to get up. Ciao Ciao will be here soon. Can you sit up?”
Yuuri was beyond questioning anything, and he let Phichit help him stand up. He was thankful now for his presence because without him, he would have fallen again. He immediately felt bad for yelling at his friend, who was just trying to help him.
Celestino pulled up in front of the small apartment complex about ten minutes later, and Yuuri was too busy trying not to throw up and die from the pain in his body to pay him any attention. It was like the worst hangovers he ever had, combined. He felt soft hands gently guiding him, and soon he was sitting in a comfortable seat.
He leaned against the window and stared at the houses on the other side of the road that he knew so well. He lived here for years; he would recognize this part of Detroit in any fever dream.
That was right, this had to be a dream. Was he in a coma? Was this what happened to people sleeping in a coma? They dreamed about crazy real memories, and no matter how much they knew it was not real, they can’t get up?
Yuuri pinched his arm, and the sharp pain was almost a pleasant feeling as it overpowered his senses for a second, making him forget about the constant, pulsating pain in his head.
He was not waking up. He was still very much dreaming.
“…he didn’t drink that much, but you know how his tolerance is,” Yuuri heard the faint residuals of a conversation that he couldn’t focus on. His brain was too overwhelmed, and he was one step away from completely losing it and collapsing into a crying, screaming mess.
“…very irresponsible.”
“I’m so sorry, he really didn’t look that bad last night! I-I have no idea what happened. I thought he just had a hard time waking from a dream, but he looks… awake now, and he’s still not here. I’m so worried about him!”
“It’ll be alright, kid, the doctors will fix him up.”
The next hours blended into a confusing blur of rooms, faces, more rooms, and all kinds of medical equipment. There were doctors in white coats asking him questions and taking notes, nurses smiling at them and asking for their patience while they wait for the results of the countless tests they made. Celestino made sure that he got examined immediately.
There were a few things that Yuuri learned during the visit to the hospital:
One was that his head – miraculously – was completely fine. He had a hard time believing this, but the x-rays of his skull showed no trauma, not even a crack. There was a purplish bruise on his scalp on the side of his head under his ear, but as far as injuries go, that was the most serious one.
He felt Phichit’s worrying eyes on himself the whole time, and he realized something else too: no matter how unlikely and dreamlike this was, the facts were that he was back in Detroit, he didn’t have his wedding ring and Phichit acted like he didn’t know his husband, Viktor.
He quickly figured out that if he acted any more ‘delusional,’ they would probably transfer him to a mental hospital, which he could not let happen. He needed to find Viktor, and for that, he needed to leave the hospital.
So, he shut his mouth and said nothing about Viktor or the Olympics or how his blades snapped in half and almost killed him.
He even considered the possibility of him somehow entering an alternate universe that humanity knew nothing about, and there was a good chance that the inhabitants of this world are shapeshifting aliens, and they would eat him the minute they find out that he was not one of them.
The third thing he realized that day came later, when his results came back, showing nothing abnormal, and all that was left was the paper Yuuri had to sign before leaving.
“Is it the twenty-second?” he asked Phichit quietly, distantly remembering checking his phone on the morning of his performance, the pen hovering above the line where he had to mark the date of his visit.
“Uh, I think so?” Phichit frowned and pulled his phone from his pocket to check. “Yeah,” he nodded and then showed his screen to Yuuri.
The pen fell on the countertop.
Yuuri stared at the screen in disbelief. His mind frantically tried to explain why he was seeing a date from eleven years ago on Phichit’s phone, but he found none.
22.02.2011.
And then it finally clicked.
His room looking like it hadn’t been touched since he left, Phichit’s young, boyish face that he only noticed now, the hair on the sides of Celestino’s head that should’ve been grey but instead it was light brown.
His room looked like he last saw it because he never left. Phichit looked young because he was fifteen, not twenty-six. Celestino never grew old. Well. Neither of these things happened, not yet anyway.
He stared at the paper and marked the date on the paper with robotic strokes.
Date: 22.02.2011.
Name: ___________
Viktor…
He’s gone too, isn’t he?
They haven’t met yet; they won’t meet until around this time five years from now. Viktor was not his husband. He was not Katsuki-Nikiforov Yuuri, the national treasure of Japan, he was not the winner of three consecutive years of the World Championships.
He was Katsuki Yuuri, a nameless, dime-a-dozen skater. Who Viktor didn’t even know existed.
He signed his name, painfully suppressing the instinct to write Viktor’s last name next to his. It had been five years since his name was no longer Katsuki Yuuri. Staring at the paper, the words looked naked, lonely without his husband’s next to them.
Life is a fucking bitch, isn’t it, he thought. He had everything, and fate had to rob him of…
Oh, god.
He died, didn’t he?
He died in the accident, that was the only explanation. Well, it was still not explained at all why he was in the past, but it was the only explanation he had.
When Celestino dropped them off, Yuuri went back to his room and acts as nonchalantly as it was physically possible. Phichit was hesitant to leave him alone, but Yuuri managed to convince him, in the end, to get on with practicing. When he was alone, he sat in the corner of his bed and pulled out his phone from the jacket on the floor.
He had no doubts, looking at his phone, that this was his. He really did travel back in time.
He died in 2022 during the Olympics right in front of Viktor’s eyes, in front of the whole world.
Tears began pooling from his eyes again.
If he was back here, did that mean that Viktor didn’t have to suffer from loss? Did he forget everything when he got back here too? Oh, god, did he also remember? Or was Yuuri on a completely different timeline now?
Yuuri hoped Viktor didn’t have to watch him die.
Please, don’t make him suffer! Don’t let him see!
He unlocked his phone, but as was expected, Viktor’s number was not there. He remembered it, but if he called and Viktor didn’t know who he was, he will actually want to die from embarrassment.
Quickly opening Instagram, he searched for Viktor’s account and tapped on his latest post from yesterday.
v-nikiforov
[image description: the first photo shows Makkachin (still puppy height) with her tail wagging and pulling on a pink leash held by pale fingers. In the second photo, Viktor is laughing into the camera with two dogs on each side licking his face, one of them is Makkachin, and the other dog is a husky.]
96 356 likes
v-nikiforov Makka is excited to show off her papa in the park to the other pups ♡♡ #stpetersburg #russia #proudtobeadad
christophe-gc im jealous, I want to show you off too daddy
yuri-plisetsky my eyes
no1viktorfan she’s so pretty, and so is her papa!
Samantha99 soooo cute!
[view all (143) replies]
Yuuri’s breath hitched when he swiped left and saw Viktor in the second photo. He had woken up next to him more times than he could count, and yet every time he saw him, he takes his breath away. He was so young, so child-like, his smile so honest, and oh, god, his hair so long!
Carefully examining a photo so Yuuri didn’t accidentally like the photo, he chewed on his fingernail to hold himself back from adding some outrageously supportive and adoring comment. Viktor deserved all the praise he could get and more, but it physically pained Yuuri that he couldn’t tell young Viktor how much he deserved to be loved.
He didn’t even notice the tears in his eyes turning into tears of joy, and he let out a breathless chuckle. Viktor’s absence was already taking its toll on him; Yuuri couldn’t imagine how he was going to manage the next five years without him.
They shouldn’t be meeting until the Grand Prix Final in 2016, should they? What would happen if Yuuri somehow messed up the timeline and the world just gets swallowed in a giant black hole of time anomalies?
Oh god, oh god.
He watched way too many sci-fi movies to know the endless plot holes and problems with traveling in time, and he could barely accept the thought that he’ll be the first one to be able to answer those questions. It will be chaos, he knew.
He also may be the first one to destroy the whole universe, but let’s not talk about that.
Sitting up straight on the bed he grabbed a pen and paper from the nightstand and wiped his tears with the sleeves of the hoodie he was wearing. He decided to list everything he knew:
o He competed in the 2022 Olympic Games
o He fell and hit his head during skating, then blacked out
o He woke up in Detroit in 2011
o Phichit still lives with him
o Celestino is his coach
o There were still five years until he embarrasses himself at the 2016 Grand Prix Finals and somehow seduces Viktor at the party afterward
o In conclusion: Viktor, his husband, the love of his life, doesn’t know him yet
Viktor doesn’t know me.
It hurt more than the headache from hell, but he decided the universe including him might as well be fucked, because he was not the type of guy who would back down from a challenge. He skated during the Olympics at the age of twenty-nine, his middle name was Challenge.
He could make Viktor fall in love with him again. Yuuri was even willing to lose the competition again if that was what it took.
This was a chance for him to fix everything and anything he wanted. He could save Vicchan. He won’t waste time with Viktor like he did for months in Hasetsu. He won’t doubt his skating like he did for years and years, holding himself back from success. In 2011 he was still eighteen, at the pique of his physical form and overall life, which he will not waste on self-conscious anxiety again.
He won’t die eleven years from now, he won’t let it happen.
There’s no love like our love.
But most importantly, he will get his husband back no matter what.
♡♡♡