Chapter Text
It was like a sudden crack in the ice; the divide between his life, and his new life.
His parents sat him down at the table. His father cleared his throat as though it were dusty, and his mother watched Yuuri's face with such deep, anxious sadness that Yuuri's heart began to beat too fast. Had someone died? Victor's face flashed into Yuuri's mind. "What is it?" he blurted, too loudly.
There was a period of shock afterwards, Yuuri remembers that, but he has blocked out his father's speech. The words hurt in an unfamiliar place inside of them. He had never even known that place existed before.
Divorce. What a strange country.
Years later, Yuuri would choreograph a dance using only half the rink. The idea struck him only days after his parents' news, but it took him years to put it into motion. There was always something more important to do than this piece. Something more immediate, more pressing, and, eventually, more exciting.
There was always something easier than reaching his arms out toward the lost half of the ice that he used to take for granted, running in place at the edge of center.