Chapter Text
He didn't lie when someone asked him who inspired him to continue his dream of dancing, obviously the one who prompted him to take the flight was Minako-Sensei, but his real inspiration was the Russian Viktor Nikiforov, when he first saw him at the age of eight years-old in the Junior category.
Viktor Nikiforov was 12 years-old when he had already won his first gold, and even before Yūri and Yūko-chan enrolled in Minako-Sensei’s Dance Academy. Day by day, both trained admiring Viktor Nikiforov and imitating his dance routines. Yūko-chan said that Yūri could imitate him perfectly as if he danced like Viktor. Yūri asked her to stop saying it, although her comments persisted when Yūri had bought a poodle similar to the one Viktor had at home, calling him Vicchan.
Later Minako-Sensei enrolled him in his first dance competition with another of her most outstanding students. Both were entering the first three places, and Viktor had already entered the world of professional dance earning another gold.
Yūko stopped dancing when she got married, but continued to visit the Academy in the company of her husband, Takeshi, and the triplets; They, his family, and Vicchan went to leave Yūri to the airport when the Japanese dancer made the decision to study in Detroit.
With the help of Celestino, his new coach and dance teacher, and the support of Phichit, his best friend and also a dancer from Thailand, Yūri and his dance partner, Keiko, had reached the quarterfinals of their first Grand Prix
Unfortunately, the odds weren’t in their favor.
Their score had been low compared to other dancers and their more complicated dance routines. And their bad luck didn’t just end there, Keiko had fallen, which caused her a big hip fracture that would keep her in bed for a while, and Yūri got the bad news that Vicchan had died, it also didn’t help a teenager shouted at him in the bathroom calling him a fool. Keiko and Yūri apologized and separated their ways. Keiko had decided to stay in Detroit and Yūri returned to Japan after five years without returning.
Minako-Sensei came to give him a warm welcome and scolded him for the weight he had gained. He gained too much weight easily, it could be because his parents had wide bones, but Mari-Neechan had never had this problem.
Yūri was received by his parents and his sister, and went to pray for Vicchan to then take a relaxing bath and think about what he would do from now on. Maybe he would continue dancing, helping at the Academy, Minako-Sensei had told him that nobody wanted to learn to dance, so she closed earlier than usual to go to meet him at the station.
While on the other side of the world, the Grand Prix was finally over and it hadn’t been a surprise when Viktor Nikiforov and Thalia Ivanov had been consecutive winners, followed by Christopher Giacometti and Lara Rorschach as second place, and third were Otabek Altin and Aybek Wyagorow.
However, it also seemed to be the last, Thalia announced her retirement due to family matters, the entire press ran to Viktor asking if he would also resign or seek a new partner. The Russian dancer was thoughtful, but the interview ended.
Upon returning to Japan, Yūri returned to his previous room, his belongings, such as clothes, records, books, posters, had returned to its places. A sense of nostalgia seized him and, taking a coat, he decided it was time to leave for a moment. He ran to Minako-Sensei’s Academy.
So many things had changed in these five years that he had left, most of the hot springs business had closed and only his family’s was still open. The Dance Academy soon appeared in his range of vision.
It was a joy to see Yūko-chan after so much time. He had changed so much that she almost didn’t recognize him. “You looked different on television.”
Yūko had reported that the Academy was closed, but that she could cover his time.
The ballroom had also changed, it seemed that no one used it anymore, despite how good it looked. Yūri gave Yūko his cell phone asking her to play one of the main tracks. She connected it to the sound amplifier while Yūri was in the middle of the dance floor. He still lacked a dance partner, although it wasn’t necessary in this song.
Stammi Vicino, Non te ne Andare sounded in the background, flooding the room with its sonata. Yūri let the music enter his body, flowing through his veins as well as his blood. Each fiber of his body moved as if it had a life of its own. Stammi Vicino, Non te ne Andare was the song that Viktor had used as his choreography in this Grand Prix, he had watched from afar, watching carefully every movement, turn, and step that Viktor and Thalia made to impress their audience. And to him.
Viktor has never ceased to surprise him over the years.
His dance routine ended and Yūri felt too exhausted to continue, but at the same time he felt satisfied with himself; Yūko gasped and covered her face, had he done something wrong? Did he make a mistake in any part of the choreography? It wasn’t his intention if he —
“Yūri!” Yūko screamed happily, even tears of emotion gushing from her eyes. His childhood friend kept hitting one of the tables with her hands, “That was beautiful! It was exactly like I was watching you and Viktor dancing together!”
Yūri smiled, relaxed that Yūko-chan wasn’t upset, “For real? I felt a little depressed and I remembered when we spent hours imitating Vik—” Yūri stopped talking as he felt three pairs of eyes watching him from the other table.
“Ah, Axel, Lutz, Loop, they have grown too much, don’t you think?” Yūko approached her daughters.
“Yūri, you’re fatter!”
“Don’t you have a girlfriend yet?”
“Will you dance again next year’s Grand Prix?”
Yūri was surprised to hear the triplets scream such personal things. After Takeshi and Yūko apologized for the attitude of the triplets, Yūri said goodbye, not without first hearing that he is welcome every time he wants to dance.
Yūri was happy to be back... As for a couple of hours more. Almost at midnight he received a call from Takeshi, when he saw his cell phone, his earthly soul had finally left his body.
‘Katsuki Yūri imitates Viktor Nikiforov’s choreography, Stammi Vicino.’
The video had only been uploaded to the Internet a couple of hours ago, but it already had thousands of visits and hundreds of comments. His cell phone started ringing and vibrating through missed calls and messages that entered his inbox. He even heard Minako-Sensei arrive at his house and start trying to enter his room to ask for an explanation as to whether it was true, since it could well be a montage, but that dance studio was hers.
Yūri turned off his cell phone and fell on his bed. Now was a good time for snow to fall on him.
Yūri lost count of how many days and nights had elapsed since he locked himself in his room, however, his mother knocking on his door and asking him to help them remove the snow made him get up and turn on his cell phone only to see the time and date. He didn’t want to see how many messages and missed calls he had.
Opening the curtain of his room, he let some white light produced by the snow and combined with the light of day enter his room.
Yūri wrapped himself to protect himself from the cold and leave his room. Going to the front door, just as he opened the door, a bark caught his attention. In front of him was a poodle identical to Vicchan. The friendly dog pounced on him and licked his entire face.
His father appeared at his side, “It’s too identical as Vicchan, Yūri.”
Too identical, he had bought Vicchan when he had started to admire Viktor because he also had a poodle... No, wait, it couldn’t be possible that Viktor is in —
“It came with a handsome guest this morning, he’s taking a bath in the hot springs at this time.”
His eyes opened when he heard his father talking and without thinking, Yūri got up and ran to the public baths, entering and opening until reaching the hot springs.
In all his glory, splendor, and nakedness, Viktor Nikiforov was inside the hot springs. Why did he come here? He also watched his video? Was he angry? Would he come to claim him for stealing his choreography?
“V-Viktor?” The words seemed to get stuck in his throat.
The Russian dancer got up and smiled when he approached Yūri. “Yūri~” The silver-haired Russian said melodiously, “From today I’ll be your dance partner.”
Yūri at first thought that he was listening badly, or that he had finally fallen into a kind of deep sleep because of his depression and anxiety.
But no, Viktor Nikiforov was here in person, winking at him.
In what kind of magical universe had he fallen?