Chapter Text
Last few months had been hard for Yuuri, ever since Viktor had left him. If finding out about Vicchan’s death just before Grand Prix Final could be compared to feeling of the rug being pulled from under his feet and the sudden thunderstorm of turbulent emotion raging inside his heart, then after their break-up he could feel the world around him collapsing, his feet losing the ground to stand on, his heart in the whirlpool of despair.
The first month after Viktor had walk out on him, Yuuri had spent in self-destructive circle of bawling his eyes out and binge-eating, staring blankly into thin air and barely touching any food. Getting angry at Viktor for ruining him and laughing hysterically at his own stupidity. Destroying posters of Viktor in a fit of rage and looking solemnly though their shared photos. Sobbing and begging silently Viktor to come back and cursing his entire existence.
Yuuri’s room was a mess during that time, especially since most of the time he refused to leave it. Scraps of paper were littered the floor, along with dregs and old wrappings with bed constantly unmade, bedding creased and curtains firmly shut.
This depression was more raw, tens times more powerful than the one he experienced after that disastrous Grand Prix Final. And ironically, he got out of this depression quicker than from the previous one.
After a month Yuuri finally realized, that their break-up wasn’t his fault at all. That he never did something wrong, that caused Viktor to leave, Viktor did it on his own accord. That he hadn’t been the only person involved in this relationship and it took both of them to make it work. And seeing that in the last few month he was the only one invested in their relationship, it’s no wonder it crumbled.
Viktor didn’t want him anymore? Well, fuck him! It’s his loss. He won’t give him a satisfaction of stealing Yuuri’s heart and then breaking it beyond repair. He will fucking show him, what he had lost. Yuuri will show Viktor that the world doesn’t revolve around him. He will steal all his gold medals, even if his own body falls apart.
With a fire of resolution in his eyes and hurt still screaming inside his heart , he got off the ground.
Next months were harsh. After a month of irregular meals and almost zero workout, getting back in shape was a challenge. There were many tears, there were times when he wanted to give up. Times, when he just crumbled to the floor hopelessly. But he always stood back up refusing to lose. He had always been a sore loser.
And his hard work payed off, as he stood on the top step of the podium, with Yurio glaring up at him on his right and Viktor on his left.
And if Viktor’s eyes were sparkling and gazing at him with excitement… Well, lightning never strikes the same place twice.