Chapter Text
Yuuri’s parents figured at first that he was just taking a longer time. Some kids were like that, they didn’t say a word for years and then came into the kitchen one morning and formed an entire sentence about orange juice.
They were patient kids who were waiting for something important or who were just fussy about the right way to say it. It was sort of romantic when Yuuri thought about it like that, 'socially delayed,'- not ‘wrong,’or ‘off,’ or ‘poor thing.’
Picky was such a nicer word than anxious.
Yuuri sometimes privately thought maybe he just waited too long and then became too embarrassed to try after a certain point, like being so late for a class that you just don’t go. The hassle of walking into the class in the middle outweighing any other obligation to go.
His sister was surprisingly the first one to tell him it was okay if he just never wanted to say anything, they were sitting in the living room where Yuuri had been scolded by a customer. She looked up sharply and looked him in the eye: ‘you don’t owe the world shit.’ She was very into saying the word shit at that time, as eleven-year-olds sometimes are.
He didn’t understand what she was getting at the time, he was just as patient as his parents- it would happen sometime he thought, just not today.
The words ‘I’m mute’ never crossed his mind, the fact was he just didn’t talk and that was that.
School was hard, his parents explained it to the teachers, his friend Yuko charged herself as his personal interpreter and companion, she didn’t always get it right, but she definitely tried. Her long-term boyfriend Takeshi eventually joined in as well, in his own way.
He took ballet lessons- not enough to get a contract but enough to feel in place, there was only so much you could do with a coach if you didn’t talk, at least, that's what they told him. He went to school and finished early.
Yuuri kept close to home, he went to the triplets birth, he worked at his family's hot springs, he walked Vi-chan every single day.
He wasn’t unhappy.
Later, he couldn’t explain to his parents what happened, he was looking at plane ticket prices and gnawing on his bottom lip. He didn’t know what drove him to send out the application that night, he wasn’t even that interested in the University of Detroit Mercy.
It was early in the morning, with the burn in his lungs from the chill air and an overwhelming sense of the distant ocean in his vision. He had to leave.
Minako thought it was because his soulmate words were in English, they just said, ‘hi, hello there’ on the inside of his right arm. Yuuri scowled at her and wrote down that that wasn’t a factor. The mark wasn’t significant and it wasn’t something he spent much thought on- even if he did find his soulmate, it’s not like they could identify him back.
The hardest part was finding an apartment that allowed dogs. One close to the campus and that definitely allowed large dogs, an excited boy around his own age emailed him back within two weeks and he was suddenly ready to go. He was leaving.
He hadn't been unhappy before.
He didn’t really understand it himself, but he found himself at the airport in three months. He almost missed his departure the first time when he couldn't quite ask the attendant where his gate had been moved to. But he ran three hallways and a staircase and got an aisle seat. The 13 hours themselves were unreal, like moving through a wormhole, it sucked you in and spit you out at the other side of the galaxy.
His new roommate didn’t ask him to talk.
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If Victor Nikiforov saw another happy couple he was going to set something on fire. Maybe himself, he considered himself, then at least his hairline would have to stop receding. He was 27 and was ready to bring hell down on anyone so much as holding hands.
Victor was born with a very special gift: a connection to the ‘soulmate force,’ whatever energy that linked distant strangers and entire populations, whatever push that spread between people like invisible spider web threads.
Victor didn’t really understand it, the government found it useless enough to leave him alone.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t delighted, the second he was able to press his hand over someone’s skin and reach inside, smooth out the words like etch-sketch patterns. When their eyes shone and they knew someone was out there.
The moment he told them to go west, go west, and then go west some more. Somewhere in Belgium. Somewhere in Brazil. Go.
He was magic, he kind of loved it? And it paid a pretty well as well, there was nothing wrong with a Rolex.
But there was only so many weddings you could attend and only so many baby shower gifts you wanted to send. Too many thankful patrons that brought their well-wishes to his doorstep and dropped the ‘we are so in love!’ on him.
He had enough gift baskets to open up a small boutique.
It warmed his heart in the way embers eventually become angry red forest fires. Sure, sure, they were in love and everyone had a soul attachment, good, fine... So where was his?
His own powers, the young Yuri Plisetsky's powers, his horoscope and a prayer couldn’t make it appear, if it even existed at all.
Victor was contemplating the end of a matchstick.
Yulia Denisovich sat on his couch with the widest smile he had seen in his life, and he had seen a lot of them, her dimples made her eyes rounded and he could count the gaps between her teeth.
Her new husband Abaeze Obano sat next to her, his hands were wrapped around hers like they were floating on the door in the Titanic and they for one were not going to let go.
Yulia practically bounced up and down.
She had had the problem that her words printed over her left foot were just ‘aaaaaaaahhh’ and that was quite a problem.
Victor had closed his eyes and played classical music for two days straight. He got out a map, painted a flower and stared at Makkachin until his head hurt. He told her to go ride a roller coaster in Nigeria.
They had both apparently been scared out of their minds on the ride and laughed for ten straight minutes about it until they agreed to go on just one date.
They were sitting on Victor’s tasteful black couch and a third gift basket of the day sat on his coffee table. This one had oranges, he at least liked those.
“I am just so glad, you are the best Love Reader in the country!” She beamed, “I am so lucky.”
He smiled as tightly as a tuned guitar string and felt his blood pressure rise, “Actually,” He said pleasantly, “I’m retiring.”
Her mouth turned into a perfect ‘O’ alongside her round eyes, “Oh no.”
“Yes, I think it’s time for a change of pace.” He said it as if he hadn’t just decided at that moment.
Her husband gave him an extra tip for the day and a pat on the back.
Victor sighed and waved them out the door, Yuri Plisetsky, the other young psychic at the business yelled at him for an hour and a half.
“You can’t leave me here with these animals,” The boy barked, “You told me you’d show me how to do the map trick.”
Victor shook his head and smiled again, the wide one, “I am going to go breed dogs.”
Yuri cursed him to the high heavens, “You’re not going to find your soulmate that way you know.” Yuri concluded at the end of his tirade with his arms folded across his chest like two sharp right angles.
Victor collected his coat and turned around, “Dogs are my soulmate.” It was almost a joke. His lips turn down at the black door in front of him, “I really have to leave now.”
He didn’t really tell anyone where he was going, he figured that Detroit Michigan was far enough away that he’d about as well-known as a ghost.
The flight was 13 hours.