Work Text:
I love. I have loved. I will love.
- The Time Traveller’s Wife, Audrey Niffenegger
japan ; the beginning of time
The first time they meet, it’s at the earliest point in history. They’re heavenly, and celestial entities that are worshipped by their people up in their galaxy.
Yuuri is introduced to Victor, the prince who weaved beautiful clothing from the Milky Way. He was the epitome of grace and all celestial beauty, with the way his hair looked like it was threaded from the finest silver in the universe, how his skin was the milky white of many stars, and how his moments were fluid and elegant. The young prince sought after love, and his father brought over Yuuri, a simple cow herder, hoping he would be enough.
They bonded over their mutual love for the delicate art form of dancing, and almost instantly, they fell in love. They got married in the stars, and spent what seemed an eternity together, happily in love.
(It just a short period of time in their fates, actually. They had many more lifetimes together that they did not know of.)
However, Victor was so in love that he stopped his duties, making his father mad. He separated the both of them, and confined Victor to sewing clothes. Victor was deeply saddened by this, and Yuuri was too. Out of compassion, Victor’s father allowed them to see each other on the sevenths day of the seventh month once a year.
“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed, joy in his expression as he hugged his lover. Yuuri returned the hug, and rested his head on Victor’s chest. He let a few tears of happiness escape, and Victor cooed at him as he wiped away his tears.
They talked and spent a day in each other’s arms, and before they knew it, time was up. They would have to wait until next year to see the other again.
Victor cupped Yuuri’s face in his hands gently, and a somber look traveled across his face.
“Yuuri, I hope we meet in many more life times to come. I hope we continue meeting until we get it right, until nothing can separate us,” Victor told him.
“I hope we do,” Yuuri agreed, with a sad smile on his face.
Before they departed, they shared a loving kiss. The stars glittered around them, sharing the energy of pure love.
“I will always love you,” Yuuri said, as he took one last glance at the departing figure of Victor.
----
The tanabata festival is one that commemorates the two star crossed lovers up in the sky meeting. On July, the seventh month, and on the seventh day, the lovers can meet for a day. It is recommended that the people of Japan to pray for beautiful weather on the day, so the two lovers can meet without complications.
2015 ; usa
Things work out for them for a little while.
Victor and Yuuri are now a happily married couple thanks to the new Supreme Court ruling, and live in a house in the suburbs with two poodles. They are the definition of domesticity, warmth, and joy, and if you were to take a look at them, you would agree. Their friend, Yurio, pokes fun at them for being such a domestic couple. Victor tells him that one day he’ll understand when he settles down, which then the young adult lets out a scoff.
Things work out for them until the car accident happens.
Yuuri is at the hospital as soon as they call him. He’s shaking when he sees the state Victor’s in as he’s in the hospital bed, bruised and his body littered with wounds. Victor’s in recovery for two days, and Yuuri is right besides him when he opens his eyes for the first time in a while.
“Victor,” Yuuri says quietly, and he takes Victor’s hand in his own.
Victor groggily opens up his eyes, and he glances around the room until his eyes land on his husband.
“Where am I?” Victor asks.
“In the hospital. You got into a car crash three days ago when you were coming home from the ice rink, and,” Yuuri trails off when he sees the pure confusion all over Victor’s face.
“Victor? Do you remember the car crash?”
Victor shakes his head, “No.”
Suddenly, Yuuri’s afraid. His heart is pounding, and he feels his blood pressure go down. Maybe it’s mild, maybe it’s not—
“Do you know who I am?” Yuuri asks.
Another shake of Victor’s head confirms his worst conclusions.
16th century; Renaissance Italy
Yuuri, out of the many time lines, is a female at the height cultural rebirth and art.
She’s the most beautiful and sought out woman at this time. At masquerade balls, her moves encapture many and make her the most wanted dance partner, as well as a lover. However, she deems nobody worthy, while still being humble.
“Yuuri, did you hear the news around town?” A friend asks her, applying red rouge to her face as they prepare for the masquerade ball taking place tonight.
Yuuri shakes her head, curious about what she didn’t hear.
“The playboy is coming to tonight's ball,” her friends tells her, and gives a squeal at the end. “The playboy! I hope I get to dance with him,” she continues.
Yuuri smiles at her friends wishes, “Maybe you will,” she amuses her.
At the ball, Yuuri takes turns dancing with the nobles as well as some of her friends. She’s wearing a beautiful blue, gold embroidered flowing dress, and a simple black mask with a few gems attached to it. As the hours go by and midnight has passed, there’s some commotion going on in the palace. Yuuri stops as her dance partner halts in the middle of the dance, and she turns her attention to where everybody is looking.
At the entrance of the palace, a newcomer has entered. Wearing an elegant and sophisticated black suit and white masquerade mask, he looks around. As he steps closer, Yuuri can make out his handsome features. The slope of his nose is just the right angle, his cheekbones are pointed, and the cupid’s bow is prominent and adds more beauty to his pink lips.
“The playboy,” a woman next to her whispers.
Yuuri’s intrigued.
The orchestra starts up again, and dance continues. Yuuri spends more time dancing with others before she finds herself in the arms of the playboy.
“You dance with such grace, my lady,” the playboy compliments her. Yuuri can see how woman left and right are swooned by him, but with her, she’s so used to empty compliments and praises.
“Thank you,” she tells him. The move from side to side, and other dancers look at them. They move with such fluidity, which is to be expected with the most sought out woman in town and the mysterious male.
“May you care to tell me your name?” he asks, a smile on his lips.
“Only if you do first,” Yuuri says, looking up at the other. She can see pale, aquamarine eyes narrow in confusion. “I am afraid I cannot. I prefer to be an unknown persona, if you did not know already,” the playboy informs.
Yuuri gives a quiet, refined, laugh, “Well, so do I, Mr. Playboy,” she responds. “Now, excuse me,” she steps away from the playboy’s arms and bows in courtesy. With a single goodbye, she leaves the ball.
The playboy looks on as she retreats, his curiosity is now at an all time high.
---
At the next few balls, the playboy is there again.
Yuuri dances with him again.
“Oh, you came to this dance,” Yuuri says as she finds herself again in his arms.
“I enjoy masquerades,” the playboy responds with an air of elegance.
Yuuri nods, “I do too.”
They share a few moments of silence as they focus on the dance, and stare into each other’s eyes.
“Tell me, who taught you to dance like this?” The playboy asks.
“My mother,” Yuuri replies, “she hired a teacher ever since I was young child, making sure I received the finest teachings in art, much to the distaste of my father.”
The playboy gives a slight chuckle, “Like I said before, you dance very beautiful.”
“You are not too bad yourself,” Yuuri says.
She notices the hitch of breath, and she’s amused.
I won’t be the one seduced by the playboy, Yuuri tells herself, but rather, I will be the woman who seduces the playboy.
---
Sure enough, she does. The mysterious playboy is wrapped around her finger, and Yuuri smiles as she sees him show up to the next ball. They dance together again, and they share a conversation before she moves on to her next dance partner.
“Say, would you like to meet me upstairs after the masquerade is over?” Yuuri asks before she leaves. She looks over to the stairs at the far end of the room, and the playboy’s eyes widen before he regains his composure. Her sudden burst of confidence is rare, and she hopes she doesn’t mess this up.
“Oh, finally coming along now?” He teases.
“Yes, or no?” she asks, not falling for his teasing.
The playboy mulls the question over before he gives a nod and a smile, “Sure.”
---
Yuuri is on the balcony, waiting for the playboy to come up. Maybe he decided to ditch, she thinks. Her mask is off, and her hair is slightly messy from the dancing. Tonight is the night, she decided, that she’ll tell him about herself. She fiddles with the strings of her mask, and her nerves spike up when she hears footsteps behind her.
“My lady?” the playboy speaks, and Yuuri lets out a deep breath.
“My name is Yuuri,” she says. She doesn’t turn around yet, waiting until the other comes up to her.
“Yuuri. Are you foreign?” he asks.
“My mother is,” Yuuri explains, “she hails from the eastern islands. How she got here is another story, though.”
“Victor,” the playboy says after that.
“Excuse me?” Yuuri asks, confused.
“Victor is my name.”
“Victor….” Yuuri echoes on her tongue.
She mentally prepares herself, and turns around to face Victor.
To her surprise, his mask off is as well. She can finally see the upper half of his face, and she sucks in a breath.
He’s beautiful.
“You’re beautiful,” Victor says out loud, and for once, Yuuri lets herself believe it.
He steps forward to caress her cheek, and Yuuri shyly looks up at him. She lets herself drown in those deep pools of blue she’s seen so many times behind the mask.
“Let’s go to my place,” Victor whispers, and Yuuri blushes. She knows the implication behind that, but she agrees.
---
In the morning, Victor’s gone.
Yuuri laughs brokenly as she draws her knees in and stares at the empty spot besides her.
“I should have known,” she whispers out loud to herself. She gets up, dresses herself in her small clothes and finds a new fresh set of clothes at the end of the bed. There’s a slip of parchment at the top, and Yuuri picks it up.
“I am sorry I could not stay. You are too beautiful for me to keep and love. Best wishes.
- Victor”
Yuuri gets herself dressed, and slips the paper in her dress before she leaves.
2001 ; hasetsu-cho, japan
Three year old Yuuri is playing in the living room as his mother and the next door neighbor converse in the kitchen to the left.
“Did you hear the reason why Mrs. Nikiforov hasn’t come out of her house for the past week?” The neighbor asks, her voice lowering.
“No, did something happen?” Yuuri’s mother questions, her voice turning to a whisper.
“Her child, Victor, got kidnapped two Saturday’s ago when he at the ice skating rink late at night. The police found him dead in the park this past Sunday.”
“Oh my,” the sadness in Yuuri’s mother’s voice is strong, “the boy was only nine years old, right?”
“Yes…”
Suddenly, Yuuri halts playing with the puzzle game. Something breaks inside his chest, something the toddler can’t understand. He starts to cry, and the sobs turn into loud wails.
His mother comes to him in panic, “Yuuri! What’s wrong?” she asks worriedly as she scoops him up into her arms, afraid that her son got injured somehow. She cradles him as Yuuri sobs into her neck.
“Yuuri?” she asks, confused.
Yuuri can’t respond; he doesn’t know why he’s crying, but he felt as if someone tore his body in half, and took out something precious.
1945 ; california, usa
The war was over, and eighteen year old Yuuri and his family were out of the internment camps, and back home.
Yuuri waited for Victor.
The two had met in the springtime before U.S. entered the war in 1941. Victor was four years older than him, but they had fallen in love.
Just like many other of their lifetimes together, dance was a crucial part in how they met. Whether it was the graceful form of art like waltz, or more unorthodox styles, like swing dancing, it had always been a key component in their first meeting.
This time, it was ballet. They had met in a ballet studio when Yuuri took his neighbors, Yuuko and Takeshi, triplets to it.
(Yuuko and Takeshi were, for the most part, always in his life. This time, they weren’t an exception.)
Victor was the assistant of the ballet mistress for the children's’ class, and by god, he was just as beautiful as the other time lines. Yuuri is still shocked by his beauty like the many other instances. Victor greeted him first after the sixth class session, saying he recognized him from the many times he brought the triplets to the class.
“I’m just doing a favor for my next door neighbors,” Yuuri explains himself, “I’m not their father, or anything.”
“That’s good, you’re rather young looking to be one,” Victor chuckles, and Yuuri thinks his laugh is nice.
“I’m fifteen,” Yuuri informs him.
“Eighteen,” Victor tells him.
After that, they talk more often. Before class starts and when the triplets are changing into their ballet attire, Victor comes out and talks to Yuuri. After class end, the triplets complain with how long Yuuri and Victor take to have a conversation.
“Do you like him?” Lutz asks him when they’re walking back home.
“W-what!” Yuuri says, taken by surprise.
“I think Yuuri likes him,” Axel agrees with her sister.
“I think Victor likes him back!” Loop exclaims.
“Don’t say things that aren’t true,” Yuuri tells them, his ears now turning red with embarrassment.
And somehow, the triplets end up getting Yuuri and Victor together. His parents are accepting, and Yuuri is glad that they are, especially since the society he lives in isn’t. They spend four years together happily in love, and the age gap is there, but they both don’t care.
Yuuri finds out that Victor is a big believer in reincarnation, and it amuses him. He never actually put much thought into that subject, so he can’t say he agrees or disagrees with it. He just lets Victor rant on and talk endlessly about the ideology, which Yuuri doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind as long as he sees the brightness on Victor’s face and his eyes full of mirth as he talks about something he’s so passionate about.
They spend four years together in their youthful love before the president announces the country’s entrance into the war in the winter of 1941.
Victor is mandatorily conscripted into the military. Yuuri is sent to an internment camp with his family in Hawaii.
“Wait for me,” Victor told Yuuri on their last night together.
Yuuri held back tears, and he nodded, “Of course.”
So Yuuri waits.
He receives a couple of handwritten letters from Victor throughout the years leading up the end of the war, and he treasures them. He puts these letters in a shoe box container underneath his bed at the camp.
When the announcement that the war is over is broadcasted throughout the whole nation and world, Yuuri rejoices that he’s going to meet Victor soon.
He waits patiently the first month, and the second month. By the third month with no signs or communication heard from Victor, Yuuri’s hope wavers a bit. Thoughts of worst case scenarios pop into his mind, but he shakes those away in hope that they didn’t occur.
The triplets don’t attend the ballet studio anymore. They tried it out again for the first week, but remarked it was boring without Victor there to teach them.
“We’ll only return when Victor does!” the three of them tell Yuuri.
It’s the fifth month with no Victor when someone knocks on the door of his family’s home on a Wednesday afternoon. Yuuri opens the door by the request of his parents.
“Hello?” Yuuri asks when he spots a fair skinned and light blonde teenager on his front doorstep.
“Yuuri Katsuki?” he asks; Russian accents his English a bit, just like Victor’s.
“Yes, that’s me,” Yuuri responds.
“I’m Yuri Plisetsky,” the teenager shifts uncomfortably, “a cousin of Victor’s.”
Yuuri’s heart leaps at the mention of Victor’s name, “Oh! Is he back?”
Yuri now seems even more uncomfortable, and he gives a deep sigh. The words that follow from Yuri’s lips send Yuuri’s world crashing down.
“He died in service.”
To not make the teenager feel even more out of place than he already is, Yuuri doesn’t cry at his front door. Yuri hands over a letter, enclosed in white. Yuuri recognizes the neat handwriting of Victor’s:
to: yuuri katsuki
“This came back when they gave us the news. Its for you,” Yuri tells him.
Yuuri takes it, his hands trembling.
“I’m sorry,” Yuuri says. Before Yuuri can say anything else, the teenager turns around and leaves the front porch. Yuuri closes the door behind him. He sucks in a deep breath as he opens the letter. It contains nothing but sweet words of love and devotion, and a sorry; a sorry for not being able to make it back home.
“know that i will always love you. i hope we meet in another lifetime, and no matter how many times we meet, i will always love you. i know it.”
Yuuri lets out a strangled sob despite wanting to control it. His mother comes to the foyer where he’s at in a confused state, but as soon as she sees her youngest son crying, her expression morphs into one of concern.
“Yuuri?” His mother asks, ready to take him into her arms.
Yuuri tells her the news not so coherently, but clear enough for her to understand. His mother envelops him in her arms, and whispers comforting words in their native tongue as Yuuri wails in her embrace.
unknown ; lost timeline
They should’ve never met under these circumstances, but fate works in harsh ways, too.
Victor and Yuuri are holding guns to each other’s foreheads, eyes piercing each other. They’re in an alley in the slums of the city, and it’s raining. It matches the somber mood of the situation, they both think sarcastically.
They always love each other in each time they meet, but it doesn’t guarantee a happy love. It doesn’t guarantee a love without pain or sadness. It doesn’t guarantee a love with a good end.
“Do it,” Yuuri spits out. His brown eyes look red in the lighting, and it scares Victor.
“No,” Victor responds, “you do it.”
Yuuri lets out a bitter laugh, “Love, please.”
“Lubov moya,” Victor strains out, his voice choking, “why did things have to turn out like this?”
Tears well up in his blue eyes, and Yuuri’s eyes soften.
“I’m sorry,” Yuuri tells his lover, “next time will be better.”
A gunshot rings throughout the dark alley.
They don’t meet in the next millennia.
Fate seems to have gotten bored of their usual love sob story, just for this time.
2006 ; england
Yuuri ended up as a wedding planner, somehow. He retired as a figure skater in 2004, and found his new passion in, well, planning weddings.
Blame his best friend Phichit for his new job.
Victor and his equally beautiful British fiancé come to him to plan their wedding, which takes place in a few months.
Victor, the Victor that Yuuri idolized while he was in competitive figure skating. Although Yuuri never got far enough to make it into the international competitions, so it wasn’t like he had a reputation that was impressive enough to make Victor recognize him.
It takes a while for Yuuri to not be nervous around Victor. He can’t stop seeing him as someone famous for a good few weeks, but as the planning goes on, he gets more comfortable.
At first, Yuuri and Victor keep a completely professional relationship.
But, they grow to have a friendship in the months leading up to the wedding. Victor consults him on multiple occasions to soothe his fiancé’s nerves.
“Sorry she’s so high strung about this wedding,” Victor tells him over the phone one night when he calls Yuuri near midnight.
“It's normal to be so,” Yuuri reassures him. He looks over the binder that compiles all information of Victor’s future wedding through his bleary eyes.
Meetings that would consist of just talking over the details of the event turn out to be three hour long talks in a café in the quiet part of London, now consisting of friendly banter and teasing (the latter being Victor’s part, mostly).
Yuuri knows he’s screwed when he starts looking forward to his and Victor’s meetings, and he feels a strange feeling in his stomach akin to “butterflies” when he sees him.
“Phichit, I’m done for. Can I just cancel planning the wedding? I’m sure that they can hire somebody else, they have the money,” Yuuri complains to his best friend as he buries his head in his hands.
His friend gives a sympathetic look and pats his shoulder, “Why would you?”
Yuuri chews on his lower lip, and he runs a hand through his hair in distress.
“I love him,” he chokes out.
Phichit doesn’t scold or reprimand him, but simply offers a shoulder to cry on.
It’s only a day before the wedding now, and Yuuri is slowly accepting the fact him and Victor were never a possibility meant to be in the first place.
He’s finishing up last minute venue details when Victor comes up behind him.
“Yuuri!” the man gives him a side hug, and Yuuri’s heart constricts.
Victor’s fiancé is a lucky woman.
“Hello, Victor,” Yuuri greets him, shifting a bit away from the other.
“So, my fiancé and I discussed something,” Victor starts. If it's last minute arrangements, Yuuri can do that.
“We would like to invite you to the wedding,” Victor says with a smile, looking at Yuuri. He looks at him with disbelief. “You’ve helped us so much it would be a crime not to,” Victor explains.
Clients never have invited him to their wedding, but then again, clients have never been so close to him like Victor was. He pulls out an invitation from the inside of his coat, and hands it to Yuuri. He looks at the invitation wrapped in clear plastic and securely closed with a white bow.
“Thank you, Victor,” Yuuri tells him.
“No problem–”
“But, I can’t,” Yuuri interrupts him.
“What? Why?” Victor asks, with a twinge of sadness in his expression.
“The relationship between me and you is strictly professional,” Yuuri explains. It’s just an excuse for Yuuri not to see Victor walk down the aisle, and kiss his bride, tomorrow. It would hurt him too much. “I appreciate the invitation, but I won’t.”
“Yuuri–”
“I’ll show up tomorrow for last minute details and to ensure the wedding goes smoothly, but I cannot attend,” Yuuri says firmly, hoping Victor won’t try to convince him after that.
A simple, dejected, “ok,” comes out of Victor’s lips.
1952 ; new york city, usa
Swept up by the nonconforming ideas wave in the downtown part of the city, Yuuri and Victor fell in love, again.
They dance away the night in dingy bars playing jazz music, and moving their bodies to the beat of swing. It’s also no secret most of this generation is depressed, yet still full of youthful adrenaline. The use of psychedelic drugs are at an all time high, and this young couple are victims to them, just like many others.
Victor’s parents didn’t support their relationship, but what would expect from a homophobic nation at this time. Yuuri’s parents were slightly uncomfortable with their son being with another male, but they weren’t outspoken about it compared to how Victor’s parents were.
The two males overdose in response, wrapped around in each other’s arms in their last dying moments. Smiles on their lips, the image could only be described as heartbreakingly blissful.
2017 ; hasetsu-cho, japan
“Yuuri, can we go to the tanabata festival in Kyoto?” Victor asks, wrapping his arms behind his boyfriend as he asks.
It’s been a few months since Yuuri won gold in the Grand Prix Figure Skating Finals of 2016, and it’s been a few months since Victor decided to stay in Japan. It’s been a few months since they called their relationship official and here to stay. It’s also been a few months since they rented out an apartment near the ocean, but still close to Yuuri’s parents house and the ice skating rink. Of course, Makacchin accompanied them, and right now, he’s sleeping in the living room; his owners are in the kitchen.
Victor didn’t decide to retire after Yuuri won, and admitted himself to this year's Grand Prix. Maybe this will be his final year, Victor thought. Yuuri also joined the competition, saying it’ll be fun to have a competition between his boyfriend and him.
“Kyoto’s a few good hours away from here. Also, are you okay with taking time off training?” Yuuri asks, patting Victor’s hands as he stirs the stir fry he’s making.
“I’ve never been to the tanabata festival before,” Victor pouts, and Yuuri chuckles.
“Ok, Viten’ka,” Yuuri gives in.
“Thank you,” Victor gives him a peck on the cheek.
----
Dressed in traditional yukata attire, Victor and Yuuri head out in the part of town celebrating the tanabata festival. The streets are crowded with vendors and their carts, selling all kinds of traditional Japanese festival food and Victor buys almost everything from each vendor.
Not to mention, he also takes the opportunity to play the kiddie games, and wins a small plush bear for Yuuri at one point. Yuuri thanks him and laughs at the childlike wonder Victor has when experiencing something new.
They encounter some fans along the way, and they politely ask them for pictures. Victor doesn’t deny them, and does his signature peace sign while Yuuri simply smiles.
They go and write their wishes on the colorful pieces of paper and tie them on a bamboo tree after a good while of going through all the booths and vendors.
“What did you write, solnyshko?” Victor asks, looking at Yuuri tie his piece of paper on the bamboo stem. “It’s supposed to be a secret, Victor,” Yuuri reminds him.
Victor whines, but Yuuri doesn’t budge.
“The firework show will be occurring in five minutes!” an announcer over the speaks hanged around the festival speaks, and Victor’s eyes light up.
“We can’t miss that, Yuuri!” Victor grabs a hold on Yuuri’s hand, tugging him in the direction of the prime spot to watch the fireworks.
“We won’t,” Yuuri assures him, but lets himself be pulled to the hill where many are now gathered waiting for the fireworks.
Yuuri and Victor sit down on the hill, and chat idly as they wait.
“I read up that the tanabata festival is to celebrate two star crossed lovers meeting on this day,” Victor says.
Yuuri nods, “Yeah. The Milky Way separates them for the rest of the year, except on this day.”
“That’s quite sad,” Victor remarks.
“It is. But, they get to see each other on this day, opposed to not seeing each other at all,” Yuuri says in his more positive outlook.
Victor finds Yuuri’s hand in the darkness, and Yuuri smiles at the touch.
“I hope they found true love in each other eventually, or got the opportunity to meet each other more in different circumstances,” Victor contemplates, looking over at Yuuri.
“Like reincarnation?” Yuuri asks.
“Something like that,” Victor answers.
“That would be nice,” Yuuri agrees.
The sudden noise of a firework bursting in the sky interrupts their conversation; the couple looks at the night sky being painted in neon lights and sparkles in wonder. Sounds of awe surround them, and there’s children squealing in excitement. Yuuri is suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of gratitude. Grateful for the events that made meeting Victor possible, and grateful for the events that made it possible for him and Victor to fall in love. He tears his eyes away from the display of fireworks still ongoing to look at Victor.
He’s beautiful, like always. His eyes are illuminated by the light the firework are giving off, and give his skin a shiny glow. His hair looks like the moon threaded into silk at this very moment.
Victor must’ve felt Yuuri’s gaze on him since he turns to look at him. Yuuri flushes slightly; he’s embarrassed that Victor caught him staring. Victor gives him a smile, and he runs his thumb over the flat surface of Yuuri’s hand in a comforting manner.
“I love you,” Victor suddenly says, his eyes full of the emotion called affection. Yuuri feels so blessed at this moment, and his eyes crinkle at the edges from pure happiness.
“I love you too,” Yuuri tells him back.
The fireworks cast a beautiful glow around the couple in love; it looks like the splitting image of when they were celestial beings, always being illuminated by the stars and the many other glittering objects in space.
Fate must’ve given them a break, and out of the kindness in her heart, she let the two fall in love with a happy ending this time around. No more heartbreak, no more sadness, no more despair, she had decided, for the two could fall in love with no tremendous bumps in their future.
The universe had given no better gift to them than each other. They were each other’s sense of home and happiness, and each life time they were deprived of that was a truly sad one.
They were in love, and nothing could change that.
They would continue to be in love until the end of time.
----
Somewhere in the center of the festival, two colorful slips of paper next to each other resided.
May I always be in love with Victor, and may he always be happy.
I wish for Yuuri and I to be in love forever!
But no matter how many years go by, they will always find a way back to each other’s arms.
Their love is timeless.
- (m.e.)