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There was a time when returning home after a four-month summer training camp in America felt like the beginning of the future.
It was like a vision within reach.
It wasn't just the lack of confidence or the complete and utter fear of the unknown that started to dissolve in those months away. The self-doubt was still there, very tangible and ever-present in his anxious brain; years of anxiety wouldn't just evaporate like that. But there was the idea that he could actually have it.
Maybe he could have his way this one time.
He clung to the facts. He did manage to get into Kyūdai, Kyushu's University. His parents had told him in junior year about possibly attending a training program if he studied hard and got good grades. He had worked very hard, maybe even harder than anyone else. He still practiced on his own at the ice rink, went to ballet lessons with Minako-sensei, and dealt with the overwhelming feeling of being ostracized that lingered in his head some days. But…well, that was old history.
He was excited. Exhilarated.
Spending months focusing only on training in Celestino Cialdini's summer training camp in Detroit was not only fueled by the sheer passion and excitement that, at last, he could get some feedback from an actual coach. He had spent years alone, and most of his junior career went by competing locally and in his nationals but never feeling good enough. Never felt validated in competitions, feeling the other coaches looking at him with something that resembled…pity. Like he didn't deserve to be there but was some kind of charity from the JSF. He knew he wasn't the only one; other kids from even more remote parts of the country also couldn't afford to pay for a coach or, even worse, move to a base rink with the said coach.
"This is an amazing opportunity, Yuuri-kun! I'm so happy you'll train with a real coach and Celestino Cialdini, no less!" Yuuko-chan had said to Yuuri two months before leaving for Detroit.
And he was thrilled to be heading back home. In the weeks before leaving Hasetsu for the summer, he and Yuuko-chan had been hanging out a lot. They spent hours together on the rink, went swimming, or had picnics at the beach. They would take Vicchan for a walk and stop by for matcha ice cream. Sometimes, they would meet at Yuuri's house and watch a movie. His mom would make them dinner, and Yuuri would walk Yuuko home afterward. They talked endlessly—about how much it sucked that it was the off-season and they couldn't watch figure skating competitions and how they both believed Viktor Nikiforov was unbeatable. Yuuri never thought this would happen, especially not like this, and not right before he had to leave for months for another country. It made him hope that maybe...maybe he had a little chance, despite the conditions of that little chance.
He ought to be an awful person for feeling this happy and hopeful, considering how he was given this opportunity. And he felt guilty did, at least for the first couple of days after Yuuko, looking a little sad, told him that she and Nishigori had broken up after an argument a week before.
He'd long convinced himself that he also found her cute and pretty, even though they were childhood friends. The Madonna of Ice Castle, kind and femenine on the ice. He liked how, for years, they both shared a passion for skating and cheered each other at the rink. According to what he'd seen with his classmates, that was just enough to want her in a way that was more than just a friend. He imagined what would happen if he got the courage to make a kokuhaku . That led to much more overthinking about what that confession would mean. Yuuko had always been supportive and kind to him, always encouraging him to keep pushing forward and telling him how she wished to see him competing on the same ice as their idol. For Yuuri, that meant everything, and that was why he thought he had to find the right words —and the right moment— to confess. But the words never seemed enough. Every time Yuuri spent too much time thinking about them, they never felt good enough.
Then two and a half years ago, Nishigori asked her out, and the two immediately started dating. Yuuri had just smiled while they told him the news, while inside, he felt a little heartbroken.
He didn't dwell on his heartache for long because, around the same time, another personal confusion started to take over, something that rivaled or maybe even surpassed his feelings for Yuuko-chan. Yuuri knew for sure that he liked girls—he liked Yuuko-chan—but he couldn't ignore the panic he felt when he first realized that staring at his posters at night gave him the most embarrassingly intense boners he'd ever experienced.
It was even more shocking when the fantasies and wet dreams began, leaving him more confused and flustered than ever. His nights became a whirlwind of self-discovery, each revelation adding to the tumultuous mix of emotions already brewing inside him.
That summer was a time of intense introspection and bewilderment, a whirlwind of self-discovery. He found himself questioning everything he thought he knew about himself and lying awake at night, grappling with this new part of his identity. It felt like his world was shifting, and he wasn't sure how to navigate it. He would spend hours at the rink, trying to lose himself in the rhythm of skating, hoping to quiet his mind. But even then, the thoughts would sneak in, leaving him more confused than ever.
He didn't have anyone to talk to about it, so he kept it all bottled up inside, trying to make sense of it on his own.
In the present, after those last weeks with Yuuko before leaving, he thinks about what it would be like if he went along with things. Maybe he could go to university and return home on the weekends to help his parents at the onsen. Perhaps this time, he could gather the courage to ask Yuuko out. They could spend time together when he was in Hasetsu, practicing at the rink just like they did when they were kids. Maybe Yuuko would go with him to local competitions and cheer for him. Maybe, just maybe, he could have that.
He held onto the possibilities—the what-ifs, the maybes.
He clung so tightly to those dreams that it almost came as a shock when Coach Celestino asked if he would be interested in becoming his student full-time, which meant moving to America. And then, more unexpected news followed.
"Your parents told me you've already gotten into college in Japan, and I know they want that for you. So I talked to some contacts here, and after sending your grades and my recommendation, they offered a scholarship and accommodations for you to attend college here in Detroit," C elestino told him one afternoon after practice, a week before the end of the training camp. "You don't have to give an answer right away. I know there's a lot to consider, and you'll want to discuss it with your parents before deciding. You have a couple of weeks after you return home."
At first, conflicting and contradicting feelings clashed within him. It was a magnificent opportunity, but...he would have to decline, didn't he? He'd spent months planning what life would be like when he returned to Hasetsu.
He held onto what everything could be so tightly that, looking back, everything felt diffused and blurry. He had been back home only for a day, and now it seemed like everything around him had stopped.
It was like an out-of-body experience as he sat in the corner of the banquet room at Yuu-Topia, contemplating the pink and blue balloons and party decorations with pacifiers and diapers. When he thought everything was too much to take in, Takeshi added to it when he kneeled before Yuuko-chan, took her hand, and asked her "to share her life with him as they raised their triplets for the rest of their lives." A low-pitched, almost inaudible cry came from Yuuri's throat, muffled and successfully drowned out by the cheers and wails of joy from both families and guests. His smile, fixed and plastered like cement, felt heavy as Yuuko's mother rushed to the kitchen to ask for more sake and gave a happy squeal to Hiroko.
He should have noticed Mari's direct glare at him and then at the pair; however, he was too stunned even to be aware of his surroundings.
"Yuuri-kun! We haven't got the chance to talk!" Yuuko said as she approached Yuuri's corner at the last banquet room table. The excitement had calmed down a little as she sat before him.
Swallowing the bitterness away, he smiled numbly at her.
''Congratulations, Yuuko-chan. You and Nishigori must be very happy." He managed to say, although he wanted to ask so many things. 'Didn't you two broke up?', 'When did you get back together?' 'Would I have had an opportunity if I had stayed and didn't go to America?' These questions would never flesh into the world, but he was just so confused.
"Thank you for your wishes, Yuuri-kun." She smiled warmly, looking fondly at him, which made Yuuri feel his stomach drop for the first time of the night, though it wouldn't be the last. "Now...you have to tell me everything from the training camp! How was coach Celestino? Did you make any progress in your footwork? Did you make any friends? I wanna know everything!" She asked, squealing excitedly and clapping.
'I thought about finally having the courage to ask you out and turning down Celestino's offer.' A little voice inside his mind cried.
"W-well..." He swallowed hard, inhaling deeply. "It was..." Yuuri almost choked. 'Lie' a voice in his head said, small and shaky. "...amazing! Made a lot of progress; I even got to practice a quad. C-can you believe it?! Also...y-yes, I uh...made some friends."
"Yuuri-kun, that's so gre..."
"See, I told you he would be just fine!" Takeshi Nishigori hollered as he sat beside Yuuko, placing an arm around her waist. He looked at Yuuri, beaming. "Yuuko was so worried about you going all alone to America that she talked me into doing a lot of stuff with you before you left. But heh, I told her you're not some weak child like you used to be. Right?"
"Takeshi!" She huffed, scowling at her fiance. But that made Nishigori laugh.
"But I was right. See? Yuuri was just fine, and even though we had that stupid fight, it was just a misunderstanding." Takeshi laughed cheerfully.
'I told her you're not some weak child like you used to be.'
'I told her you're not some weak child like you used to be.'
'I told her you're not some weak child like you used to be.'
'I told her you're not some weak child like you used to be.'
Dread filled his body as the words kept repeating in his mind, over and over again. The need to throw up grew as the uneasiness in his stomach reached levels his anxiety had never reached before. He wanted to run as fast and far as he could. He wished he had stayed in Detroit, and an asteroid would have crashed Earth before taking the plane back home and died blissfully ignorant of what was waiting to shatter his plans, maybes, and what ifs that he so clung to for the past months. He was stupid to think. Stupid to hope. Stupid to wish. Stupid to believe.
"Coach Celestino offered me a spot to train with him and a college scholarship in Detroit," he blurted out, his own voice sounding foreign and cold.
"Uh?" Nishigori uttered, dumbfounded.
"Yuuri-kun...but... that's huge!" Yuuko said, screeching excited. "Mari-chan, is that true that Yuuri-kun got offered a scholarship in Detroit!?"
"Yuuri, what?!" Astounded, Toshiya Katsuki was in the table next to them and was the first Katsuki to react to the news. "Yuuri, that's such an amazing news! Hiroko, come hear this!" His father ran to the kitchen.
Mari just looked at Yuuri.
His sister always had this superpower of knowing when Yuuri's anxiety took control of his brain. Most of the time, she let him be, knowing damn well that he needed space to sort it out himself. This time was no different. In the months leading up to his departure for Detroit to start college and train with Coach Celestino, she could sense her little brother was almost on the brink of a meltdown.
There was an urgency to leave Hasetsu boiling beneath Yuuri's skin. It was too transparent to hide completely, though he managed to conceal it outside the bubble of his bedroom. Sometimes, little glimpses would escape, mostly when he was helping with chores around the onsen or during a ballet session with Minako-sensei, where he could let it out for his sanity. Mari watched these moments carefully, her silent support a comforting presence. She knew when to step in and back, a delicate balance she had mastered over the years.
Yuuri appreciated her understanding, even if he couldn't always express it. The pressure he felt was immense, the weight of his future pressing down on him as the departure date drew closer. He wanted to be excited about this new chapter, but the fear and uncertainty gnawed at him. His mind was a whirlwind of worries and what-ifs, each more daunting than the last.
Mari's subtle gestures—a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder, a soft word of encouragement—helped more than she knew. They grounded him and reminded him that he wasn't alone in this. Despite his efforts to keep his anxiety under wraps, she saw through the facade the storm of his emotions as he was preparing to leave the only home he had ever known and Vicchan.
He was almost in the clear one night in late October, just two days away from leaving. His parents and Minako-sensei had prepared a farewell party for him, meaning he had to keep a perpetual smile throughout the night. He also had to act as if he wasn't still numb to the sight of a now heavily pregnant Yuuko gushing about her wedding with Nishigori and how much he would be missed that day because he would be living in Detroit. If he was honest, he couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for not being there for some reason, so he just nodded to everything Yuuko chirped. When his smile started to falter, he slipped away from the celebration and went out to the backyard of their family house. His legs gave out, and he kneeled, burying his face in his hands and breathing heavily.
'I told her you're not some weak child like you used to be.'
'I told her you're not some weak child like you used to be.'
'I told her you're not some weak child like you used to be.'
'I told her you're not some weak child like you used to be.'
"Are you okay?"
The voice shook him from an impending panic attack, pulling him back to reality. A shiver ran down his spine.
"Are you okay?" Mari repeated, lighting a cigarette.
"Y-yes." he replied.
"Uh-huh." She nodded without really agreeing, then exhaled a puff of smoke. "You haven't been yourself since you came back. Are you sure you want to go? I know you're having a hard time leaving Vicchan, and you know he'll be okay with us, but..."
"I have to." His answer was firm and steady, but a hint of urgency slipped into his tone. "I can't stay here. Mom and Dad have already arranged everything. I can't just back out now. I have to."
"I told her you're not some weak child like you used to be."
Mari sat beside him, gazing up at the sky. They shared a moment of complete silence, the kind that spoke volumes. Yuuri would miss this, he realized, the quiet companionship of his sister, who had probably watched from afar, understanding more than she let on. She had given him the space he needed, not wanting to complicate things further, while he slowly unraveled inside his mind. It wasn't clear how much she knew or what she had figured out on her own, but one thing was certain: she had noticed. Perhaps she had pieced everything together.
Right now, that wasn't important. What mattered was the uncertainty pulsating through his veins, the future looming ahead like an uncharted territory. The thought of it made his anxiety worse, tightening its grip on his heart.
Mari's presence was a steadying force, a silent reminder that he wasn't alone. She didn't press him for answers or demand explanations. Instead, she sat beside him, her quiet strength a balm for his frayed nerves. The sky above them was vast and open, starkly contrasting the turmoil inside him. But in this shared silence, there was a sense of understanding, an unspoken promise that he had someone who believed in him no matter what the future held. As they sat there, beneath the expanse of the sky, Yuuri allowed himself to draw strength from the moment, knowing that whatever happened, he wasn't facing it alone.
"You know, little brother..." she said, in a voice uncharacteristically sweet, breaking what felt like a lifetime of silence but was actually thirty minutes. "...everything works out in the end, I promise."
There was silence after Yuuri stopped talking.
For some reason, a few weeks ago he remembered the story he had told Viktor that first day on the beach in Hasetsu and realized he had never shared the source of the recurring thought that sparked it. Since then, the memory had lingered at the tip of his tongue until a few moments when he finally let it slip. "Remember the day my future husband asked me if I wanted him to be a brother or a father figure?" he teased, trying not to sound too anxious. The memory made Viktor giggle, tangling his legs with Yuuri's and playfully pinching him on the ribs. For the past three years since they'd moved in together in St. Petersburg, the intimacy of their bed had become their haven. It was a place where whispered secrets and silent confessions mingled with the soft glow of the night. Where they bared their souls with unspoken words and shared the weight of their pasts. It was where they let their guards down, where tears were shed freely, and where the pain of old wounds found solace in each other's arms. In that sacred space, they discovered depths of closeness they hadn't known existed. Their hearts entwined more deeply with every murmur and touch.
But now, there was silence echoing off the bedroom walls.
Maybe it wasn't a brilliant idea to bring this up while they were in bed. Talking about the naive, misguided notion of what love meant as a teenager and how deeply it affected his concept of vulnerability and closeness, hurting people without him even realizing it until years later. As the engines of his mind started to overthink, the soft touch of Viktor's hand found the small of his back.
''I kind of already knew.'' He heard Viktor say softly. ''Mari mentioned parts of it when...'' He paused and could swear a silly smile was on the Russian's lips. ''...she gave me the shovel talk. And I know you're going to ask when.'' He said when Yuuri was already seconds from asking. ''After the Cup of China, of course.''
Now, it was Yuuri's turn to be silent.
Then, the whole thing just seemed hilarious enough to make him laugh.
''Three years living together. One married. And now, I'm the one receiving the shovel talk from my own sister every time she calls. Who would have thought?'' He managed to say, as laughter died down.
''Your family knows how much you have me wrapped around your fingers, my love. Mari's just looking after me, maybe...as I'm incapable of saying no to you.'' Viktor said fondly, laughing a little. He never had it in him to deny it, and part of Yuuri loved him even more for taking a chance on him so sincerely. So open.
''They consider you family as well. My sister loves you so she reminds me, his dense brother, to take care of you. That's how this usually works.'' He smiled, moving his face to look at his husband lovingly.
The hand at his lower back pressed his body closer, and suddenly, he was embraced tightly, enveloped not only by his love but also by a wave of longing and sadness radiating from Viktor. At that moment, Viktor was reminded of how much the people in Yuuri's life had become his people, too. The connection was deeper than just shared love; it was an intertwining of histories and emotions.
For Viktor, being here in the vulnerability of their bedsheets brought its own memories—filled with doubt, pain, and loneliness. The familiar faces and places stirred up a mixture of feelings, a poignant reminder of his own journey. Yet, in the midst of this emotional turmoil, there was an overwhelming sense of gratitude. They had both endured so much, but those very experiences had led them to each other.
Viktor's embrace tightened.
''That's how it goes...'' Said Viktor, breathlessly. ''...everything works out in the end.''
Yuuri inhaled deeply against Viktor's skin, grounding himself to the moment.
''Yes. I promise.''