VI

Victor woke up to the grey slush of the morning frost against the window and the arms of his fiancé unconsciously hugging his curve. He blinked back and something sent a rush of blood to his head, speeding up his heart beat. His outburst last day felt like a distant memory - more like a memory he wanted to be distanced from.

He acted like a damn baby. It was irrational, stupid, and nothing had ever been worse than when his fear spiked up. Although it was scary for a while - he sensed as if the song was booming from every direction, just like that night, closing in on him, choking him with a bike chain - it still wasn't so bad that he had to yell at Yuuri, push him off balance. Hurt him again.

Again.

It was like a cycle. It was like an ill omen. It was like they were not meant to be together.

The apartment wasn't too far from the home rink. Last day, he had sprinted all the way, not looking back, somehow managing to breathe, hurtled up the stairs and locked the door. He had hoped Yuuri hadn't followed him, and Yuuri didn't. There had been no point to it. Or maybe, Yuuri had been just too shocked.

Breathe. Breathe. Victor had ordered himself, crumpling down on the rug, his back against the couch, his knees to his chest. Maccachin had purred around him, worried. Crying had never come naturally to Victor. He'd tried, but his eyes had been parched and dry. He had no outlet, except to sit by, think, estimate, repent.

He had felt so messed up. There was no way he could win or even skate at the Nationals in this state.

"The entire world is waiting for you, Victor. You don't realise how many of us still look up to you. Are you gonna disappoint us all?"

The clock was ticking. He hardly had a month left to prepare two different programmes. There was no way he would be able to match up to those sky-high expectations, especially after being out of spotlight for a year. Chris told him the only reason he furthered another season was because he wanted Victor Nikiforov on ice again. Victor Nikiforov on ice. His shoulders were crumbling from the weight of that name.

But the worst part happened yesterday. And it came from the person he least expected from.

Yuuri. He pitied him. He looked at him like a wounded, helpless animal. He looked like he was about to cry. Cry for Victor. No, Victor didn't need this. It wasn't empathy. It could never be.

Yuuri needed to mend that mistake and he wasn't talking to him until he did. Victor reconsidered. Maybe he should communicate about this. But how? Don't pity me, don't pity me ever again - it didn't quite come out the way it sounded in his head when put to words. No, Yuuri should know better. Yuuri must figure this on his own. Victor would lead him there but Yuuri had his work cut out for himself.

Still, Victor couldn't stay mad. It wasn't humanly possible to stay mad at his innocent brown eyes. Also, Victor didn't want to grumble all day knowing how Yuuri left everything behind in Japan and settled here in St. Petersburg in a blink, and realising how his cold treatment might peak Yuuri's insecurities instead of serving its real purpose. Victor understood Yuuri to the bone, and it was time Yuuri did too.

"Hey," came a mumble. Yuuri rubbed his groggy eyes and pulled himself up, "Good morning."

"Good morning, Yuuri," he tried to sound... polite?

Yuuri grabbed his spectacles and stretched his eyes wide, probably trying to shake off the blurriness, "Um, I'm sorry about last day."

Why was he apologising? Was he apologising because he had a sudden epiphany in his dream about where he went wrong, or because he had grown a habit of it and it was the easiest way out?

"It's okay, I'm sorry too."

"Victor - "

"No, seriously, I am. I shouldn't have yelled."

"You're mad at me."

So Yuuri did understand him. Victor felt the weird suffocation in his chest relaxing. He let out a small smile. "Really, I'm not, Yuuri. It's a Sunday. Do you want to eat out or something? I know the best breakfast place two blocks away."

"Uh, actually," Yuuri seemed to have other ideas, as he reached out for the jacket hung near the wardrobe and pulled out a slip of paper from one of the pockets, "I thought it'd be nice if we get to talk to someone. I got us an appointment with Anna... Anna Sevo... Sevostyanova."

Victor knew her. He had gone to her before. When he was really, really young. "A shrink? Where did you get her card from?"

"I -er, I asked Yakov," he murmured, before adding hurriedly, "I told him I was having anxiety issues again. I got us two separate appointments, so I thought one of us could walk Maccachin around while the other's in there."

"Oh."

"...So? I'll cancel if you don't want to go. No pressure."

If Victor bit down his pride, it might just be a good idea. In any case, he needed an outlet. "Okay. I'll come."

"I've been having bad dreams. Not just at night. Any time of the day. It's getting me riled up and hogging my time, and I don't have much left to spare before the Nationals. At the same time... well, ah, I don't want to let down my fans either."

It was a small, comfortable room but Victor couldn't shake off a weird sensation about it. The couch was too soft - he felt as if his butt just sank to the depths of hell; the coffee was too bitter, and the woman, with her steel rimmed spectacles and wise wrinkles and everything, looked a little... bored? A younger, splitting image triggered his memory from the last time he visited; was she bored that time too?

Who cares. Just get it over with. He wanted to get out. Yuuri said he packed lunches for a small picnic. This'd be their last off day before the season began and Victor didn't want to spend half of it inside this room. He wondered what Yuuri told this shrink. With a face as stony as that, she must've had totally intimidated him.

"So, Victor," the lady spoke, "if you're having difficulties sleeping I can prescribe you sleeping pills, but I need to be sure that you're not... you know..."

What, suicidal? "No, no," he jumped, "Nothing like that. I'm actually very happy. I mean, I was very happy until that... incident... Trust me, I'm not depressed or anything. I'm about to get married and -"

He stopped midway. So where was the problem?

"That's great to hear, Victor," she smiled genuinely for the first time, "When's the occasion?"

"Uh, actually I told my fiancé as a joke that we can't get married until he wins gold," he chuckled along. A little uneasy. "We haven't started planning or anything, but I think we'll do it after the Worlds. Also, ah, I wanted to take him by surprise there and pop the question. Like, I know he has done it already, but I wanted to do it again. More official and less vague."

He wouldn't lie. Talking about weddings and future plans and Yuuri... he was feeling better. Maybe this was a good idea, after all.

The lady pulled up her spectacles, and gazed - almost like a soothsayer. She had saucer-like, eccentric, cerulean blue eyes, and Victor found the situation a little funny, even as he bit back a smirk. She crossed her legs, and picked up her coffee, almost as if passing the final verdict.

"Victor, you have a wonderful life ahead. I think it's time you stop thinking about that incident again and again inside your head. The more you think about it, the harder it'll be to separate dream from reality and you'll turn it into something it isn't. Yuuri doesn't blame you. But you need to stop. I'll teach you some breathing exercises next time you get a fit of anxiety..."

Victor clenched his fists and looked away. His heart dropped to his stomach. How obvious had he been that the lady caught on about it without him slipping up that detail? As if he wasn't already trying hard enough.

Who cares. Just get it over with.

"Yuuri...?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

No matter how cold the weather was, a certain warmth never left Yuuri's cheeks. That was why, stuck between the icy metal bench and the frosty grass and the overcoat whose surface had slowly started to sag thanks to the moist winds, Victor chose to snuggle against the warmth of his cheeks. It wasn't much of a choice anyway. The fact that Victor had planned on being pissed at Yuuri in the morning had slipped immaculately out of his mind, now that they sat in the park, Maccachin running about in the open space in glee.

"Soulmates?"

"Uh huh."

Yuuri blushed. He cast a glance at their interlocked fingers, rubbing at his ring, "Um, I don't know."

Yuuri hadn't asked him a word about what went in the shrink's room. They ought to be picnicking but the weather drastically changed and the grass got too soggy to sit on, so they planned on waiting until the restaurant right next to the park opened for its afternoon shift. However, Victor hadn't simply asked to initiate a random conversation. "You don't know?"

"I don't know. I mean - um, I think it exists but not in a mythical way. Like - um, two people who understand each other the best - that'd be soulmates, right? Red strings and all... I don't know, sometimes they can sound flimsy."

"You don't think we were fated?" Their meeting each other was spurred by the longest chain of events, it was undeniable.

Yuuri did his little laugh. "I was in love with you for so long I can't fixate at a particular point in my life."

"Oh, Yuuri!" he almost leaped on him, settling his chin into the collar of Yuuri's coat even as Yuuri gave out a giant sneeze, his nose reddening up in an instant.

"The weather wasn't supposed to be this bad today," he sniffed on his glove.

"Are you cold?" Victor pulled off his own scarf.

Victor loved how easily flustered Yuuri could get. "What - no, Victor put that back on, you're gonna catch a cold -"

"I'm more used to this kind of weather than you are," he grinned, wrapping the scarf around Yuuri's neck in spirals. Soon enough, the only visible part of Yuuri's face were his eyes, sandwiched between the scarves and the woollen cap.

"Hmmw amph I sphhposed tph talk like thphis," came a muffled, exasperated reaction through the fabric.

"Why are you so adorable?"

"Amph I sphhposed tph answpher thapht?"

Victor wondered what kind of a surprise Yuuri kept for him at the end of the day. Nonetheless, he was very excited about it.

The excitement, however, disappeared like air out of a punctured balloon, and something quivered at the pit of his stomach as soon as he noticed Yuuri taking that familiar pathway.

To be honest, after what he did last day - in front of dozens of people - and what he did to Yuuri - he wasn't just embarrassed embarrassed. He was embarrassed in a way he'd never been before. So embarrassed that for a split-second, he wanted his resolve to go to hell, and to never see the face of the ice again. Let alone competing, he wanted to quit coaching too. He wanted to dig a burrow and hide himself from everyone, the world, the media, the fans, Yakov, Yurio - even Yuuri. The shrink lady was right; what began as a nightmare had now started to turn into something else - it had begun to engulf his hopes and dreams - his entire existence.

"Yuuri," he stopped on his tracks, surprising Maccachin who knocked into his shin, "I'm not feeling right about this."

Yuuri seemed... confident. "Do you not trust me?"

"I do but - "

"It'll be okay. I promise."

And then Yuuri gave him a smile, a smile he knew he couldn't refuse even if Yuuri were leading him over the edge of a cliff, let alone an ice rink.

So Victor followed. Yuuri opened the door (God knew how he got his hand over the keys; furthermore it was surprisingly empty and locked at this time of the day, before it struck Victor...Sunday, only seniors, half shift...still doesn't explain the keys though...). Every step echoed in the quiet of the rink. Victor felt as if his insides had shrunken into a ball.

Regardless, he removed the guards and pulled on the blades. Yuuri did the same. Victor sighed, "So, shall we skate?"

Yuuri came up to him with a piece of cloth. "I'm going to blindfold you."

"What, Yuuri -"

Too late. He was blinded now. All he had now was Yuuri's voice and his warm hand clutching his. The nerve of annoyance twinged at Victor's forehead. "Is this a joke, Yuuri?"

"Certainly not, Victor. Just follow me." Yuuri pulled him up on the feet. He walked. Soon the floor transitioned into ice and he jerked forth, but thanks to Yuuri's strong grip he didn't fall flat on his face.

"It's like teaching a kid," he grumbled, heat flaring up around his collar. Still, the slippery surface, the glare of the ice (so strong it could pierce through the cloth, through his eyelids), the ease of the blade cutting through the surface... triggered something... bad...

"Victor, how do you feel?"

Yuuri needed to stop being so ambiguous right now. Victor felt all the blood rush to his head again. "Not good, Yuuri."

With his eyes closed, he couldn't even focus on the walls, or the seats, or the lights or even Yuuri's face. All he could feel was the surface sliding from under his feet. This was exactly like his nightmare. No, not now. He had to defeat it. He decided to imagine a tunnel of darkness instead, Yuuri's voice being at the end of it. He tried to reach it.

the voice

the voice

the body on the ice

No, no. Fucking no.

The voice.

the voice

"Victor, do you remember the time we were practicing jumps and I bopped you on the head because I felt like it?"

His lips curved into a smile. Yes, that was funny. For some mysterious reason, that bopping action had a calming effect on Victor. That time, he had proclaimed his balding fears were about to come true, and melted into the ice dramatically. He had loved getting Yuuri all nervous so he went an extra mile with the drama.

Yuuri spoke again, "And d'you remember you told me about that little girl who burst into tears when you threw her a flower?"

Yes, it was right before he started to lose inspiration. It was a little girl, but the way she cried and the sincerity in her eyes got him to realise the connection he shared with all those who watched him skate and how important he was -

ice

stammi vicino

fall

the body on the ice

His face tensed up again. Focus.

the voice

the voice

"And Victor, do you remember that time you were goofing about and showing me twerking steps when we were supposed to create my free skate programme?"

This time, Victor laughed out loud, his heart beat easing. "I hope you're not recording this."

"And that time we made love on ice?"

Finally, he ripped the blindfold off. "What?!"

Yuuri was wheezing with laughter, his eyes glistening. "I meant, my theme. Love on ice. What did you think?"

"You little shit."

Yuuri glided close to him, so close Victor could feel his breath on his face. "I asked you to stay with me one more year so I can win the gold for you. And I'm gonna give my everything to win it. But you'll have to promise me something."

"Anything, Yuuri."

"You're going to win the gold for me."

"Huh?"

"Yes, Victor. And I'm not going to make it easy for you. Well, I guess by the end of the season one of us won't be able to keep his promise... are you up for the challenge?"

He didn't look down on me. He never pitied me.

An absurd surge of tears simply surfaced and leaked from the corners of his eyes. Victor had never felt this loved before. He'd never had a spurt of affection this big towards Yuuri before. Without warning, he grabbed Yuuri's face and rammed his lips against his. Yuuri was taken aback for a moment, but kissed him back, slowly, sensually, his arm snaking around Victor's waist. Yuuri hardly took control, but when he did, it was an experience out of the world.

Yuuri left butterfly kisses over the stains of Victor's tears, his warmth sending a chill down Victor's spine. They sank to their knees, never minding the numbing ice, arms wrapped around each other's bodies, gasping at every speck of heat their fingers could find. The entire space was calm - so calm - almost like the calm before a storm.

Victor broke apart, pulled his hand out of Yuuri's shirt and scratched the back of his own head instead. "So, what d'ya say," he laughed cheekily, "It's an empty place. You wanna make another... love on ice?"

Yuuri smirked. "Eros mode activated."

"Hmm. Kinky."

[Shhh... a happy chapter... now all aboard the angst train that isn't going to have a lot of rest stops.. it's a secret.]

Is my Yuuri bias showing? :3 (Yes I want him to skate on my face. I love Victor too, though.)

When I was watching the show, during the cliffhanger and the one week between episode 11 and 12, I noticed a lot of people saying that 'Relax, Victor won't go back to skating, he's dedicated his career to Yuuri' which was completely true, but Victor's I-am-never-going-back attitude started to change in episode 11 and completely flipped in episode 12 when both his records were broken, and he took upon himself a humongous task of coaching and competing. ... Which made me think, man, Victor is extremely competitive and loves challenges. So there's that.

I was reading up here and there and I saw that Japanese people don't say "I love you" directly to each other (Aishiteru?) Can someone confirm this? And Victor loves being forthcoming... hmm... culture gap... miscommunication ... interesting...(take my evil ideas away from me). ._.

Anyway, drop a review if you like!