Work Text:
Clockwork
In this world, people were born with a clock mark on their wrist crease. The mark was ever-changing, counting down the time someone had. Each clock had different pace, some were lucky enough to have it slow and steady, while some were rapidly fast they passed away not long after they arrived to this world.
Yuuri’s clock was a little bit special. That’s what his parents told him when he was a child and asked him to cover it with a glove. He was a very special child, so his parents let him do what he loved. But when he got older, Yuuri understood the meaning of being special, so he tried very hard and did his best every single day, and indeed everyday became very special and precious.
And Victor came to his life. Never in his life, would Yuuri imagine something as wild as having his biggest dream came true. But it did, and it felt so good, and horrifying. Because it felt too good to be true, it must be a dream.
Yuuri stared at his precious clock, he was tracing it gently when Victor called him.
“So, Yuuri, what do you want to talk about?” The Russian smiled as his dried his silver hair with his towel.
Yuuri covered his mark and smiled back at him. “Victor… After the final, let’s end this.”
Victor’s smile never left his lips, but his eyes were blank, as if he was trying to process what Yuuri had just said. “Wha-“
He smiled softly at Victor’s confused expression. “Tomorrow, let’s end this.”
“But why?”
Yuuri shook his head softly. “Good night, Victor.” He said as he lied down on his mattress. ‘I’m sorry,’ he meant to say. He could feel Victor hurting, and it hurt him ten folds. But he had to do this.
“Why Yuuri?” He heard the Russian whispered to himself, but Yuuri refused to answer. Because Victor would find it soon. He just hoped it would not be too soon.
-
He danced with all of his feelings on the ice. Every steps and jumps were dedicated to that one person. His love and sorrow, all was poured without any restraint anymore. And he won the gold.
Yuuri stepped onto the ice, gold medal hung heavily on his neck. Then he felt it. He gasped as he clutched the medal, eyes looking around rapidly to find the silver-haired man. ‘Where was he?’ He turned around to find him. ‘I can’t see… Am I crying?’ When he could not find him, Yuuri screamed as hard as he could, surprising Yuri and JJ beside him. “VICTOR!”
“The fuck, Katsudon!?”
The Japanese ignored him. “VICTOR!” He repeated, desperation laced on his voice. “Thank you…” His breath was short and shallow, it was impossible to shout again, but he had to say it. He caught a glimpse of silver and he smiled. “Thank you,” he gasped, “I’m sorry…”
Yuuri felt his body fell down to his knee before he finally hit the ice. ‘Ah… I haven’t said it… that I lo-’
-
Victor thought that he felt his whole world crashed last night. But now he knew exactly how it truly felt when Yuuri stared at him, tears filling his eyes as he smiled and fell.
Everything seemed to stop. He stared at Yuuri, unmoving from his spot on the ice floor. The cameras’ flashlights were blinding and the screams were deafening. Everything was chaotic, but Victor could not see or hear anything.
“Yuuri…” He felt his body moved to the ice rink. He had to go to Yuuri.
Yuri Plisetsky was shaking with wide eyes while JJ looked unsure for the first time. Both held Yuuri up and skated over to him. The silver-haired man reached over and held the Japanese. His heart break when he saw the tear stains on his cheek and serene smile on his lips.
“Yuuri!” A female voice joined him and he saw Mari and Minako had run over to his side. “No, Yuuri…”
The women hugged each other as they cried for their lost. Their grief cut Victor’s heart, but there were no trace of shock in their expression. They knew.
“You know…?”
“I’m her sister, of course I know. Minako too, because he had told her once.” She stared at him, tears running from her brown eyes. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”
Victor shook his head. His hands were shaking. ‘Why?’
“Please don’t blame him, for not telling,” Mari said, “he probably didn’t want to worry you.”
“That kid has always been selfless,” Minako touched Yuuri’s cheek, “so selfless that it’s selfish.”
“He told me once that sometimes he wishes he has more time,” Mari looked at him with a miserable smile, “he wishes he can give you more of his time.”
Victor felt a prickle of tear and he buried his face on the crook on Yuuri’s neck. It was warm once.
-
The media went wild about Yuuri’s winning performance. His magnum opus, they said. They romanticized it, calling his last routine as the swan song. And then, life went on.
-
Victor tried his best to keep moving forward. He moved back to Russia and coached Yuri for a while. But Russia had turned so much colder than he remembered. So he went back to the gentle warmth in Hasetsu with Makkachin on his side. No one said anything about it, not even Yuri.
The Katsuki family welcomed him with the same warmth that he adored. It suffocated him, because the place reminded him too much of Yuuri. But he wanted to remember, so he smiled as he bled. Makkachin whined at night as he curled at Victor’s side. Sometimes Victor caught him sitting in front of Yuuri’s door, waiting for the man to open it.
It was snowing, just like the first time he arrived there. A year had passed since the last time he saw Yuuri’s gentle smile. The Katsuki family paid their respect to their son and went to give him the privacy he needed, even though the Russian knew they wanted to spend more time there. They were too nice for their own good.
He smiled at the gravestone. It was like the others: hard, cold, grey, and square. All the qualities that were very unlike Yuuri, who was the embodiment of softness and warmth, with his twinkling eyes and…
‘God, I miss him so much…’ Victor choked at his own breath. He sat down and leaned on the hard stone. “Yuuri…” He closed his eyes as he calmed himself down. “It’s been a year.”
No replied came to him, as he expected. No soft and shy replies or the rare snarky comments that always took him by surprise.
“My clock suddenly moves faster,” he continued, “as if it knows I really just want to be by your side as fast as I can. Funny isn’t it, how it works… how life works…”
There was a gentle breeze that caressed his cheek, it was oddly warm.
“I hated you for not telling me, sometimes I still do,” Victor paused, “but it never really last.” He sighed as he stared as his gloved hand, the one that held his mark. “I miss you so much.”
“Victor, you idiot.”
Victor’s eyes snapped up and he saw… Yuuri, standing before him with bright warm light surrounding his body.
“Yuuri…?”
Yuuri eyes were tearful as he approached the other man. “I’m so sorry…”
The Russian hushed him. “Yuuri, I miss you so much…”
“And I miss you too, Victor…”
They shared a smile and Victor closed his eyes.
-
Later, when Mari came back to check on the Russian, she saw him leaning on the cold stone with serene smile on his face, unmoving and at peace.