Chapter Text
It’s the day before Yuuri’s 18th birthday, and he’s never been more nervous. He has realized by now that his soulmate is older than him, but, by how much? His anxiety spirals as he worries about him and his soulmate having a huge age gap. This occupies his mind for the rest of the day.
I, the author, am now going to give you so information about the universe in which Yuuri lives. This is a universe where people have soulmates. Of course, not everyone has a soulmate, but this is besides the point. Yuuri does . Or at least, he’s convinced himself he does. Would it be worse to have a large age gap with your soulmate, or not to have a soulmate at all?
We’re getting off-track.
On the 18th birthday of the younger soulmate, the two of them switch bodies for a day. Why? Good question. Someday, when the creator of the universe gets Twitter, we’ll tweet them about it.
So now that it’s the night before Yuuri’s 18th birthday, there are two possibilities. One, he doesn’t even have a soulmate. He’s destined to be with no one. Forever alone. Or , two, he does have a soulmate, who is simply a little older than he is (soulmates with large age gaps are nonexistent, but that doesn’t stop Yuuri from freaking out).
At 11, Yuuri stops trying to fall asleep. He sits up in bed and contemplates texting Yuko, before ultimately deciding against it when he remembers that not everyone is lying awake in anticipation for his birthday. He continues to sit on the edge of his bed, leg bouncing rapidly.
Thoughts begin to clog his mind. He worries that his soulmate will hate him. He’s worried that he won’t be good enough for them. He’s worried about the way he looks.
He stares down at himself. He’s been less self conscious of himself recently, but that won’t mean anything to his soulmate .
He worries about everything there is to worry about.
At one minute before midnight, he worries that switching bodies will hurt.
But it doesn’t.
At midnight, Yuuri loses sensation in his lower body. The lack of feeling creeps up his torso, and into his chest. Panic curls in his stomach. As his neck goes numb, he has to remind himself that this isn’t a bad thing. He is laying on his bed, and he can feel nothing. His eyes slip shut, and then, there’s void.
He regains sensation what feels like mere moments later. First, in his toes, in the form of- wait, Vicchan? He struggles to prop himself up in the- wow, this is really soft- bed. At his feet, is a dog that… is Vicchan? He stares harder, and comes to the conclusion that this dog is older than Vicchan. But, what is her name? He looks at her.
“What’s your name?” he asks, just for the sake of asking. He does not expect the dog to answer him.
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he grips his throat in surprise. His soulmate has an accent . A… no way. He pushes the thought down before it can form.
He stumbles out of bed, and looks down at himself. Light skin, and he is wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. He blushes madly and looks around.
Taking in the room around him, he can see that his soulmate is some sort of minimalist. There is nothing personal in this room. At least, not as far as he can tell. He walks out of the room, and into the hallway. His soulmate lives in an apartment. He walks into the main room, and takes in his surroundings. There is a couch seated in the room with a TV in front of it on a low table. There is a sparsely furnished kitchen as well. Yuuri spies a door that must lead to the bathroom, and pads towards it, not-Vicchan following behind him. He closes his eyes as he walks into the room. Which kind of, y’know, defeats the point.
He feels not-Vicchan nuzzling at his leg, and inhales deeply, before opening his eyes.
Fuck.
There, in the mirror, staring back at him, is Viktor Nikiforov .
Yuuri almost straight-up dies.
He thinks about the fact that- oh, God- Viktor is in his body, and he’s in Yuuri’s house, in Yuuri’s room, with Yuuri’s dog, and Yuuri’s friends and family. He starts to panic. What if… what if Viktor thinks he’s weird because he has all of those posters of him in his room. What if he thinks Yuuri is ugly .
Yuuri stares at Viktor’s face.
“It’s going to be okay,” he says, and hearing it in Viktor’s voice is admittedly calming, “you’re going to be fine.”
He reaches up and runs a hand though Viktor’s hair. It’s thinner than he expected, but unbelievably soft . Viktor’s eyes are shockingly blue-green, and they look gentle. Though, that might just be Yuuri.
The dog, who Yuuri now knows is Makkachin, whines at him, and he kneels down to pet her.
“What a sweet girl,” he coos, Viktor’s voice still surprising him.
After Makkachin is thoroughly pet, he stands up. What should he be doing? What is Viktor’s daily routine?
He walks out of the bathroom and into Viktor’s room, picking up his phone. The lockscreen is a picture of Makkachin, of course, and Yuuri is surprised to find that all he has to do is swipe to get into the phone. There’s no passcode of any kind.
There are several unread text messages from someone under the name of ‘ ass man ’. Yuuri squints at the contact picture, and- oh. It’s Christophe Giacometti. Yuuri hadn’t know that the two of them were friends.
ass man: viiiiiicctor~~~~ are we still on for today ;)
ass man: is that a no ;( ?
ass man: victor nikiforov! answer yr text messages right now, mister!
ass man: u duck!! answer my texts y have u abandoned me :///
ass man: *dick
Yuuri frowns. Could it be possible that these two are dat - no. Not going to think about it. Viktor seems like the type of person who would wait for his soulmate.
(Right?)
He decides to text Christophe back. He doesn’t want him to worry about Viktor.
viktor: Hi, this isn’t Viktor, but he’ll be back at his phone tomorrow. Sorry!
He gets a text back almost immediately.
ass man: wtf!!! viktor has soemone over,,,, and DIDNT TELL ME?! who is this????
ass man: nvm im callin lmao!!!!
The phone starts ringing in Yuuri’s hands. He stares down at it as he breaks into a cold sweat. Fuck…
He answers it.
“Hello,” he says quietly.
“Viktor! You liar!” Christophe exclaims.
Yuuri sweats nervously, not saying anything.
Christophe sounds concerned when he continues, “Are you alright?”
Yuuri’s (Viktor’s) mouth is dry, and when Yuuri tries to reply, all that comes out is a sqeak.
There’s shuffling on Christophe’s end of the call, “Victor, I will fly to Russia right now .”
“No!” Yuuri exclaims, “No, no. No need for that..”
There’s a skeptical noise from Christophe, “ Really ?”
“Yes!” Yuuri says defensively. It is unpleasant hearing Viktor’s voice in distress, so he tries to calm himself down. There’s silence on both ends as Yuuri does a quick breathing exercise.
“This is Viktor’s soulmate,” Yuuri manages.
Christophe is silent for a fraction of a second before he shrieks, “ What ?!”
Yuuri mumbled a “yeah.”
Christophe hums in thought, obviously excited, “Well, what’s your name?”
“Katsuki Yuuri,” Yuuri says, a tremor in his voice.
Christophe gasps, “ Yuuri ? You’re a skater too, from Japan, right?”
“That’s me,” Yuuri says.
The phone buzzes against Yuuri’s ear, and he yanks in away reflexively. There’s a text from a number that he recognizes as his own.
unknown number: so, yuuri katsuki?
unknown number: i’ve seen you skate~ you’re good
unknown number: nice posters, by the way. i’m flattered ;)
“Viktor is texting me,” Yuuri says, and Yuuri can hear Christophe’s smile.
“Well, I’ll leave you too it! Toodles~,” Christophe sing-songs, then hanging up.
As Yuuri texts Viktor back, he has a feeling that this is all going to be okay.