Chapter Text
“A man must dream a long time in order to act with grandeur, and dreaming is nursed in darkness.”
― Jean Genet
“Yuuri!” His friend exclaimed and within seconds he felt her hands graze his shoulders before pulling him in for a tight hug. “I’ve missed you!”
“Me too, Yuuko.” Yuuri replied while they were still cheek-to-cheek. He could feel Yuuko pull back only to hook their arms together. Yuuri took the hint and folded his white cane together, moving it to the hand he was also using to pull his suitcase.
“Yuuri!” Another voice exclaimed, this one deeper but just as familiar. The suitcase was taken from his hand. “Let me take that – you’re our guest!” A heavy hand patted him on the shoulder and Yuuri smiled in his general direction. The gesture had annoyed Yuuri to no end when he was younger. He had always been able to hear Takeshi coming his way but it had taken him years to grow accustomed to his old friend’s brutish way of greeting him.
“Takeshi,” said Yuuri. “It’s been a long time.”
“It has!” Yuuko answered enthusiastically as she began walking forward, guiding Yuuri through the thankfully calm airport. “I’m so glad you decided to come here! Phichit is going to be thrilled when he sees you!”
“Shame you can’t say the same,” Takeshi joked, nudging Yuuri’s shoulder. “Y’know, because you can’t see, haha!”
Yuuri shook his head, stifling his laughter. “Ahhh Takeshi, that was horrible.”
Yuuko rolled her eyes at her husband. “Oh! And you haven’t seen the girls in forever. They’re going to totally flip out!”
Yuuri laughed awkwardly, knowing very well that the girls, while they certainly liked him a lot, were going to be too busy fangirling over the actual figure skaters to pay him much attention. “They are not.”
“Well, they’re going to be happy, anyway.” Yuuko acquiesced. “Like all of us are.”
Yuuri could hear the sound of mechanical doors coming up and soon they were outside in the fresh air, Yuuri could feel the sun hitting his face. “Nice day?” He asked.
“Beautiful,” Takeshi answered.
Yuuko grasped his arm a little tighter and Yuuri could feel her bouncing on her feet with excitement. “Welcome to Russia, Yuuri!”
()()()
Yuuri wasn’t a big fan of travelling. Especially on his own. Therefore, he had to agree with his sister in saying that him going all the way to Russia by himself was a pretty huge deal. Progress, his therapist had called it. Yuuri himself didn’t know exactly what it was that had urged him to take Yuuko and Takeshi up on their offer to come and support Phichit at the Grand Prix Final. He supposed that part of him felt like he needed to leave Hasetsu for a while. Gain some perspective. He was twenty-three after all and unsure which direction he wanted to take in life. He also got woefully anxious whenever he started thinking about his future and the choices that laid ahead of him. If he was being honest with himself Yuuri might be able to recognize the trip for what it truly was – a distraction. But seeing how thinking about the subject only served to make him even more anxious he avoided thinking about it at all for the most part. There was a reason Yuuri had a therapist, after all.
They had taken a taxi to the hotel. It was the same hotel that Phichit and all the other figure skaters were staying at. Yuuko helped him check-in, having learned a little bit of Russian during her stay, and Takeshi refused to let go of his suitcase until they were in his room. Takeshi left soon after, heading off the relieve their babysitter so that she could have dinner and Yuuko stuck around guiding Yuuri around the room to give him a sense of where everything was.
Yuuko lingered by the door as she was about to leave. “I’ll be back to get you in about thirty minutes, if that’s okay? I figured we’d show up to the dinner a little bit late so that we can really surprise Phichit.”
Yuuri nodded. “Sounds fine.”
“Great!” Yuuko chirped. “See you soon, Yuuri!”
Yuuri heard the door close and then he was alone for the first time since getting off the plane. He turned around where he was standing, bumping his hip hard against the desk he’d promptly forgotten was there. He winced and moved away from in, instead heading in the direction where the bed was. He walked until he could feel the plush mattress beneath his hands and then sat down on it. He leaned back until he was laying down with his only his shins dangling off the side of the bed. He sighed and closed his eyes. He would give himself five minutes of this. Wasting time. Before changing clothes and combing his hair.
It used to be a lot worse when he was younger but he was still nervous about things like this – going out to dinner in public, in restaurants he didn’t know and with people he didn’t know. It made his heart stutter and breath catch just thinking about it. He was always scared of somehow making a fool of himself. There were some things that couldn’t be helped, what with him being blind and all. Sometimes he would mess up getting ready only to have someone point it out an hour after he arrived. Sometimes he would accidentally push a bottle or something off the table, causing an awkward moment of someone guiding him away from the shards of glass. And sometimes, the worst of times, he would be dragged into some strange conversations about his blindness and how hard it must be. That hurt him the most because he could almost always feel tears threatening to fall when someone started pitying him. He didn’t need pity. He didn’t want it. It made him feel infantile and more useless than usual.
He was almost certain more than five minutes had passed by the time he got up and made his way to his suitcase. Yuuri changed into a black sweater and black jeans. He wasn’t a big fan of wearing color in general since he didn’t really understand it. He could relate color to things and words but he could never really know for sure what suited him. Black, he was told, was clean and effortless and supposedly it was always a safe bet. Yuuri liked safe bets. Black was also what he wore when he was dancing which was another reason he felt comfortable in the color. He was used to being complimented when dancing. Not by his teacher, Minako, necessarily but by other people. A lot of Yuuri’s life was spent bumping into things, tripping, and knocking things over so dancing was really his only chance to feel graceful.
After he finished combing his hair and was rinsing his mouth out with mouthwash there was a knock on the door. He spat the mouthwash into the sink. “Yuuko?” He called. “Come in!”
“Yuuri!” She yelled. “Are you ready to head out?”
He exited the bathroom and nodded. “Mm.” He shrugged on his jacked and patted his pocket to make sure his wallet was still there. He was reaching for his cane when Yuuko stopped him.
“You don’t have to bring that,” she told him. “Phichit and I will be there all night.” Yuuri hesitated. Yuuko nudged his shoulder playfully. “You’ll just end up carrying it around all night, you know? Phichit won’t let you out of his sight, I’m sure.”
Yuuri laughed at that because it rang true. “Fine, let’s go.”
Yuuko suddenly squealed excitedly, startling him. “Phichit is going to freak!”
()()()
Yuuri’s hands felt clammy when they entered the restaurant. The sound level was pretty loud and the smells where overwhelming. He gripped Yuuko’s arm a little tighter.
“There they are!” Yuuko exclaimed, waving her free hand at the group. She walked over to table, Yuuri beside her. He could hear Phichit’s light laugh and Takeshi’s booming one nearby. Other voices mingled in with their laughter letting Yuuri know that they indeed would not be eating alone.
Suddenly, Yuuri heard a gasp. “Yuuri!” Phichit yelled.
Yuuri heard someone utter a low “huh?” somewhere but he forgot all about it when Yuuko released him so that he could be embraced by his best friend. Phichit pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek. “I can’t believe you’re here! This is the best surprise ever!”
“I’ve missed you,” Yuuri murmured.
“Ahhh I’ve missed you too, my friend!” Phichit let go of him, steering him so that he was presumably looking at the others sitting at their table. “Everyone! This is my bestest friend in all of the world the amazing Katsuki Yuuri!”
Phichit promptly introduced him to his other friends and colleagues – the skaters Guang Hong Ji and Seung-Gil Lee and his coach Celestino. It struck Yuuri that he’d met Phichit’s coach before but the meeting must have been very brief and uninteresting since Yuuri had almost forgotten about it.
Dinner was nice, Yuuri had to admit. He sat between Phichit and Yuuko, which helped. The food was different but nice. Yuuri had never had it before and the names of the dishes meant nothing to him but Phichit was enthusiastic in his quest to teach Yuuri about Russian cuisine. Yuuri found Guang Hong to be a kind spirit, much like Phichit, and although Seung-Gil was rather quiet he was also very funny in a dead-pan sort of way. No one seemed to care that Yuuri was blind, at all, no one brought it up or asked about it which was refreshing. Yuuri found himself growing fond of these strangers.
Hours later they had finished their feast (including desert) and where about to head back to the hotel when someone joined them. Yuuri gathered, from the way everyone grew quiet, that this was someone they knew. And not someone they liked.
“Well, well,” a cocky voice huffed. “If it isn’t the Asian-gang… and Celestino, of course. You know, the way you guys exclude the rest of us one might start to suspect you’re actually racist.”
Yuuri frowned. He himself had never really understood racism, how could he? But he was certain Phichit wasn’t racist. “JJ. The reason no one invites you along is because you’re the worst,” Seung-Gil said, matter-of-factly.
JJ… Yuuri thought to himself. Who? Oh. Jean-Jacques Leroy. Phichit’s mentioned him, I think. His catch-phrase is completely ridiculous.
“You’re all just jealous of my – JJ style!” The man yelled. Yuuri felt himself cringe. “Anyway, you won’t be calling me the worst after I win gold in a couple of days.”
It was becoming increasingly obvious with each word the man spoke that Yuuri would not like him. When yet another voice joined them Yuuri felt about ready to leave the restaurant and never come back.
“My God, JJ,” the new voice spoke smoothly. “Your arrogance is as astounding as it is unwarranted.”
“Viktor.” JJ ground out, obviously irritated by the new man’s presence. “I didn’t notice you were here.”
Yuuri heard Phichit giggle beside him and couldn’t help but smile himself – he figured that anyone who could knock JJ down a peg or two was all right in his book.
“Hm. Anyway, I wouldn’t go boasting about winning gold so soon. It’s only going to make it more embarrassing when I take home the medal. Like I always do.”
Yuuri’s smile fell off his face. Was this how these skaters spoke about winning? Phichit never did and he was quite certain Guang Hong and Seung-Gil wouldn’t either. Perhaps it was Yuuri’s own insecurities that made him weary of arrogant individuals but it really irritated him when people thought themselves to be better or more deserving than others. He thought about Phichit, who was kind and quick to laugh and how he deserved better. He earned his place in the final just like they did.
JJ was grumbling his response when Viktor decided to speak over him. “Phichit! Good to see you. All of you! I think I recognize all but one – who might you be?” Yuuri could sense that Victor was looking at him.
“I-”
“This is Yuuri!” Phichit interrupted. “He’s my friend from Japan! We met while I was training there – been best friends ever since, right Yuuri?” Yuuri nodded his head in agreement.
“How interesting…” Viktor seemed to trail off, focused all of a sudden. “Are you blind?” Viktor asked, sounding intrigued. Then, seemingly answering his own question he continued. “That’s a shame. You’ll never get to watch me perform.”
Yuuko gasped beside him, taken aback by the comment just like Yuuri.
Yuuri felt lost for words. Viktor spoke so casually. As if his words weren’t absolutely insane. Yuuri felt his face flush with anger, he turned to Phichit and asked if he felt ready to head back to the hotel.
“Of course, Yuuri!” Phichit replied. “Are you going back too, Viktor?”
Yuuri cringed mentally, praying that Viktor would say no.
“Soon,” Viktor informed them in the same soft, causal but cocksure tone he seemed to own. “I just have to wait for my fellow countrymen. You go on.”
Yuuri got up along with the rest of his company, Phichit immediately grabbing onto his elbow. “Goodbye, Viktor! JJ!”
On their way back, Phichit and Yuuri walked ahead of the group. Phichit was telling him all about how amazing everything had been and things they had to do before Yuuri went back home. Later, when Yuuri was lying in bed, he scoffed to himself as he remembered the words of JJ and Viktor from earlier in the night. Sure, Phichit hadn’t seemed to mind them, but Yuuri was practically seething. He fell asleep wishing that he’d never have to speak to either of them again. Too bad dreams don’t actually come true.
From Phichit’s Twitter:
(Selfie of Phichit and Yuuri – Yuuri is looking at someone off-camera and Phichit is grinning at the camera, his arm thrown over Yuuri’s shoulders.)
#WhenYourBestFriendSurprisesYouInRussia #Blessed #ShipItWithPhichit #BestFriendsReunitedinRussia