Chapter Text

Chapter 1: "Spasibo, поклонник"

Yuuri Katsuki had loved the Junior Figure Skating Champion, Victor Nikiforov, ever since his IJSU debut. The young skater's long, silver hair shined like he lived in a perpetual spotlight. His crisp lines, intricate step sequences and elaborate spins captivated Yuuri — and flung him into the world of competitive figure skating. But Victor Nikiforov's effortless confidence and poise, even at age 13, made Yuuri's breath catch in his throat and made his heart beat like he was running a marathon.

While he had been in ballet classes since he was little, and had taken some basic ice skating lessons at the Ice Castle, Victor was truly his inspiration and the reason why he skated. Every time he laced up his skates, he envisioned Victor's bright blue eyes watching him and guiding him onto the ice. Every time he fell, he imagined Victor helping him get back on his feet. Every time that his muscles felt like they were splitting apart, the Victor in his mind kept cheering him on to push himself farther.

Over the next few years, as Yuuri trained to enter the Junior division, he kept up with Victor's career religiously. Yuuri watched every interview, stayed up to watch every simulcast of every skating competition, owned every magazine that featured him, and bought every piece of merchandise he could get his hands on.

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When Yuuri reached age 13, he was not yet eligible to compete on the Junior level because of age deadlines. However, just like when he was 10 years old, he was still completely and totally enamored by Victor Nikiforov. Who just so happened to be making his senior debut in the Grand Prix Final, right in Yuuri's home country. Even though Tokyo was an almost 7 hour train ride away from Hatsetsu, Yuuri begged and begged his family to take him. The young Japanese skater was so disheartened to hear that he couldn't go to the championship of skating, see his ultimate goal, or his idol in person... but he understood when his parents told him that they couldn't afford it.

In the week leading up to the Grand Prix Final, he found an article in a popular skating magazine about how the official hotel had a PO Box that they had set up for each skater to receive mail during the Grand Prix. That's when Yuuri got an idea.

Normally, when writing a letter, especially to his idol, Yuuri would have thought to find some nice stationary, or even a nice pen. However he was too excited to overthink it, but he also knew that if he didn't send the letter today, it probably wouldn't reach Victor before he took the ice. So, he just grabbed the first sheet of paper from his printer and a plain black marker from his school bag, and began frantically scribbling out his thoughts and feelings in his best English.

Yuuri has studied English for about 3 years now, and actually dreamed of going to school in America, so he constantly practiced and watched skating broadcasts in English. Still, writing an actual letter to the actual Victor Nikiforov, caused him to second guess every comma, every apostrophe and every word — even though he knew that his grammar and writing was perfect. When he realized that the previously blank paper was now covered in black scrawl, Yuuri cursed himself for not writing smaller. There was still so much he had left to say... But he shook his head, and began to sign his name — only to stop at the first line of the character. He took a pause, and realized that even though he wanted nothing more than for his idol to notice him, he didn't want this letter to be what Victor knew him for. Yuuri wanted to prove himself through his skating, not some dumb love let- piece of fan mail.

Instead, Yuuri transformed the broken K from his name into the hiragana for "secret admirer", and put the marker down with a satisfying plink. He took one more look at the letter, getting ready to fold it and place into an envelope, when he noticed the date.

"Victor's birthday is less than a week after the last day of the Grand Prix Finals..." He thought to himself.

He quickly picked up the marker and scribbled out a small birthday message at the bottom of the note, then immediately folded the letter to fit inside an envelope. The 13 year-old filled out the address he found in the magazine, as well as a return address (but leaves the name blank). Finally, he licked the envelope and placed a small, gold stamp on the top corner. With his adrenaline on high, Yuuri took the envelope and ran through his house, out of the inn and down the street to plop the letter in the mail collection bin. Now, he could only hope that Victor would get to read that heart-felt letter.

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"Up next in the Free Skate, is Victor Nikiforov, who is hoping to make an impressive Senior debut by gaining a spot on the podium here in Tokyo!"

The reporters' announcement sent a shock wave through Yuuri's body as he saw the cameras pan over to the rink entrance, and on to none other than Viktor Nikiforov. His long silver hair was pulled into a high pony tail and out of his face, highlighting his soft Russian features and allowing nothing to distract from the intense facials he exhibited while skating. Victor was wearing a dark navy costume that featured almost holographic feathers on the right side of his body, and black fish-netting over the left side. On the broadcast, the announcers said something about how "This costume highlights both Victor's masculine and feminine features, as well as his skating style." However, Yuuri could care less about what "features" the costume highlighted, because all he knew was that somehow, the TV cameras had caught footage of an actual angel.

As the silver-haired teen pulled the covers off of his blades, the reporters began to fill the silence with commentary before Victor was supposed to head out onto the ice. Audio was overlaid onto the footage of Victor, and Yuuri found it difficult to focus on anything other than the silver beauty. 

"Nikiforov led yesterday's Short Program with an 86.2, to earn him first place heading into today's competition" 

"In order to beat out Switzerland's Stéphane Lambiel's Total Score of 230.10, this 16 year-old will have to score at least a 144." 

"Based on yesterday's performance, I think that Nikiforov is more than capable of achieving that score"

"However..." 

"Victor did have a very uneasy warmup this morning, which could effect even the most seasoned veteran. We will have to see if this rookie has the maturity to perform to his full potential on the ice tonight."

As the reporters kept rambling, Victor bent down and grabbed what looked to be a small piece of paper out of his royal blue skating bag. Then, he gently brought the paper up to brush his lips with a light kiss, before tucking it underneath the feathered part of his costume. Most people around the world probably would not have even noticed this small action, but it set Yuuri on edge. Yuuri knew how superstitious of a sport figure skating was, and he had never seen Victor do something like that before taking the ice. However the slight uneasy feeling that settled in his stomach made something about the gesture feel almost... familiar...

Suddenly, the screen shifted to display the current leader boards and scores, before regaining focus on Victor as he glided out onto center ice. He was unlike anything that Yuuri had ever seen before; he couldn't be sure if it was a result of puberty, the costume, the venue, or what exactly... but something about Victor Nikiforov just emanated success, confidence and the drive to win.

"Taking the ice, is 16 year-old, Victor Nikiforov of Russia. Performing his Free Program entitled..."

Yuuri's mind went completely blank as he watched history being made before his very eyes.

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The entire arena erupted into a seismic level of applause as Victor held his final pose of his free program. As he struggled to regain his breath, he felt a light pat, where a royal blue flower crown landed on top of his head. With a few more breaths, he was finally able to process what had just happened. "I just skated a --"

"A FLAWLESS FREE SKATE BY VICTOR NIKIFOROV!" His thoughts were interrupted by the bellowing voice over the loud speakers, but the confirmation swept a huge smile over his flushed face. "There is no doubt that Nikiforov will be on that podium tonight! Now, let's head over to the Kiss and Cry to get his scores, and see which medal the Russian Rookie will be taking back home!"

More flowers, stuffed animals, and all sorts of trinkets flew onto the ice around Victor, but a large bouquet of royal blue roses caught his eye. As he skated towards the gate, the teen gently crouched to scoop the flowers into his arms. When he came back up, he swiveled on his skates to once more face the audience, and give them a final wave. Victor clomped off the ice and down the path towards the Kiss and Cry. There, he could see Yakov waiting for him with his stuffed Makkachin. All his coach gave him was a small smirk and a curt nod, but that was all the approval Victor needed to know that he had done well.

Victor honestly didn't realize how much time had passed since he finished his program, or that has scores had been released, until the whole booth began to shake. The whole arena roared as Victor Nikiforov was announced as the Grand Prix Final gold medalist — and the first skater to win back-to-back Junior GPF and Senior GPF gold medals.

Even though he had heard the announcement, seeing his score was entirely different. The display read:

Short Program: 86.20

Long Program: 148.60

Combined Score: 234.80

Placement: 1

A heart-shaped smile flooded its way across Victor's face, and he threw his arms around his coach. Yakov surprisingly didn't squirm out of the contact. Instead, he wrapped an arm around the smaller boy, and patted his back in earnest congratulations.

In the few minutes that Victor had to steady himself and his excitement before the medal ceremony, the silver-haired boy began packing up his belongings. While sitting in their room, he looked at the royal-colored flowers and his matching bag, before reaching into the breast of his costume.

There, he pulled the folded piece of paper back out, before opening it up to its full size. Victor smiled down at the small crumpled paper, realizing how much it had changed the course of his competition. 

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Earlier in warm ups, Victor's nerves had taken over, and he didn't manage to land a single jump. He could hear every one of the senior skaters snickering, and making snide comments about how he should have "waited a few seasons" before joining the big leagues. But as a cloud of dread began to form around the Russian, and as the first skater took the ice, Victor's rinkmate Georgi, who had not made finals, ran to him with a small letter in his hand.

"Victor! This came for you, at the hotel!" He said to him before handing him an envelope embellished with a small, gold stamp. The boy was surprised at the appearance of not only the think, black-haired boy, but the letter as well. However, as he tore open the envelope and began to read the letter that was scribbled in crudely-written, but beautifully-crafted English, the despair around him dissipated. Victor didn't even notice that Georgi had left to go back up into the stands.

He kept re-reading the last paragraph of the letter over in his mind — each time, boosting his spirits a little higher. It read: 

I hope that if you ever feel down, you can look at this letter and know that you will always have someone in your corner, rooting for you! Please keep skating with all your heart, and I will admire you with all of mine.

-Your Secret Fan

There was a small drawing of what looked to be a bowl of noodles, along with an early birthday message. However the words were what touched him the most. As he steadied himself on the bench, up next to skate, he took the note back out from his bag, and decided to kiss it for good luck. Then, he tucked the letter into his costume, somehow feeling warmth and love emanating from the ink on that paper. With that, he took his first step out onto the ice.

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Victor smiled fondly at the memory that didn't feel merely an hour old. He gently folded the paper back up, and kissed it one more time.

"Spasibo, поклонник" He whispered in Russian, and tucked the letter back into it's place in his costume, before heading back out for the medal ceremony.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: "Do You Even Get Nervous?"

Over the last three years, Yuuri spent almost every waking minute either at the barre with Minako, or on the ice. Even after he made his Junior debut, Yuuri still struggled to keep up with the other skaters in his division — even those younger than him. He especially struggled with landing his jumps in competition. There were definitely times where he felt like giving up on his dream. However, he couldn't go far without feeling the comforting influence of his idol, Victor Nikiforov. Since the day Yuuri wrote his first letter to Victor, a lot had changed. 

Victor had since placed at every Grand Prix Final, had competed at both the Europeans and Worlds, and just barely missed out on a berth for the XX Olympic Winter Games in '06. 

Yuuri on the other hand, had not gained much success. By the time Victor was 16, he had won both the Junior and Senior Grand Prix Gold Medals; Yuuri had failed to even qualify for one of 8 Junior Grand Prix Final spots. Of course, he had tried —and was exceptionally grateful to have Japan's support behind him in the qualifying events —but he could still never make the podium. 

One thing that did become a constant, were his letters to Victor. As Yuuri's anxiety grew and his confidence dropped, he found comfort in writing to the God-like figure whom he adored. At first, Yuuri would only write to the Russian skater if they publicized a mailing address for fan mail and flowers during competitions. However, once he got Victor's official mailing address from a promotional post card he had been sent, he realized that he didn't have to wait. One letter turned into two, and two turned into a letter before every major competition. Usually though Yuuri would keep the subject matter to a short "Good Luck!", along with some more specific praise regarding whichever competition was coming up. 

Even though Yuuri never received actual responses from Victor himself, he was happy with this one-sided communication. Every so often, the 16 year-old would receive a promotional mailer from Victor's PR team, or even the occasional postcard with Victor's schedule for the upcoming season. The consistent time frame that Yuuri had to write his letters, and the often predictable pattern of the PR team, gave Yuuri something to look forward to. Even if he could never make it to the biggest competitions, and was in his hardest years of high school, he could still hold onto the hope that somehow, Victor would read and maybe even look forward to his letters. 

As the end of August approached along with the beginning of the Junior Grand Prix season, so did a heap load of anxiety for Yuuri. Even though Japan had not had the best showing the past few years in the Junior Division, they were still allowed to send 1 skater to 7 of the 8 qualifying events. What terrified Yuuri, was that they had trusted him alone to compete at the Cup of Merano in Italy, and the John Curry Memorial Cup in the United Kingdom. Yuuri's first event was going to be held in begin in less than a week, and he was stressing out. He had to not only work overtime at the rink to perfect his program, but he still had to pack AND finish his school work before his flight on September 2nd. 

After Minako finally made Yuuri go home after about 4 hours in her studio, Yuuri was still buzzing with a nervous energy, and he knew he was not going to be getting to sleep any time soon. As he begrudgingly climbed the stairs of the inn to his room, the skater got an idea of where to channel that energy. 

When he got upstairs, Yuuri immediately sat down at his desk, and pulled out a little book of stationary. After flipping through it for a few moments, he gently tore a light blue piece of paper decorated with smiley clouds along its perforated edges, and began to write. Never before had Yuuri written to Victor about himself, but he thought that now was as good a time as ever. 

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Victor woke up early to a bleak, Russian sunrise that poured in through his curtains and onto his face. It was only around 6am, but Victor knew that he needed to get to the rink. Today marked the first day of September, and that meant that Victor had less than 2 months before his first Grand Prix qualifier: Skate America. And — he still hadn't finished choreographing his program. 

The 20year-old reluctantly threw himself out of bed so he could take the love of his life — Makkachin — for a morning walk. Victor grabbed a leash along with a set of keys, and headed out of his studio apartment. After he cut off contact with his parents, Victor had moved to St. Petersburg by himself to pursue his career in figure skating. But the cold Russian mornings and the walk to the rink never got better. As he walked with the poodle, Victor passed the metallic wall of mailboxes that served his apartment complex. Like usual, he reached in to pull out all of the junk mail that usually crowded the tiny box, along with the occasional skating magazine or official letter from a sponsor. 

However today, a small white envelope with a gold, Japanese stamp caught his attention — and the Russian's ocean-colored eyes went wide. After seeing the letter, Victor practically sprinted back home so he could open it — he didn't sprint, but only because Makkachin could only keep up with a light jog. 

As soon as he stepped inside his apartment, Victor almost forgot to unhook the dog leash because he was too excited. Then, he carefully tore open the envelope to reveal a letter with the distinctive handwriting that could only belong to his "Secret Fan". The stationary was new; the letter was written on a light blue paper, decorated with chibi-style clouds, and a pastel-rainbow area where the writing was centered. This was the first letter that Victor had received from the young man since Worlds in March. 

The letter in Victor's hands was different than usual though. In the past, his "Secret Fan" had solely written to wish Victor luck in an upcoming competition.

However in this letter, the boy wrote to him asking for advice as he headed into the Junior Grand Prix season. Which happened to have begun 3 days prior, and would continue with the Cup of Italy that weekend. Up until now, Victor had never felt compelled to reply to his fan mail. 

Usually Yakov or his agent had told him to just forward the addresses of fan mail to the PR team, so that they could send out pre-printed "Thank You"s, as well as other promotional mail. This was mainly to keep Victor safe from stalkers or from miscommunications with the press, but it also added a mysterious and professional air to the skater. 

However after reading this letter, he knew that he needed to do something more. Looking at the time, Victor quickly packed the letter into his skating bag, and started rushing to leave for practice. In his mad dash around the small apartment looking for paper to write on, he realized that he lived alone — wasn't in school anymore, and didn't own a printer — which meant that there was practically no paper in the entire house. Finally after turning the place upside down, he found a small notebook/planner that he usually kept by his bed, and stuck that in his bag along with a dull pencil. Then, he ran out of the house with an individually-wrapped, store-bought pirozhki, and headed out to the skating rink. 

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On September 9th, Yuuri finally arrived back in Japan after competing in Italy. Even though he had achieved a personal best in his Short Program, and still did fairly well in his Long program, the Japanese skater still failed to make the podium — coming home with 4th place. Surprisingly, a pair of 15 year-old fraternal twins, Sara and Michele Crispino, had both won their respective Gold Medals in their home country. 

After the drive back from the airport, all Yuuri really wanted to do was take a long soak in the hot springs, and then pass out on his own bed. His mother however, stopped him as soon as he walked in the door. 

"Yuuri! I watched the live-stream of your competition, and you were incredible. That's the best I think I've ever seen you skate!" Hiroko told him as she pulled the 16 year-old into a warm hug. 

Yuuri sighed and buried his face in god comforting embrace of his mother. "Thanks mom... but it still wasn't good enough to get a medal..." 

At that comment, the shorter but rounder woman's expression changed to show her frustration regarding her son's lack of confidence. "You can't possibly get down on yourself about that Yuuri. You lost by less than 2 points!" 

The teen squirmed slightly under her intense gaze, and avoided looking at her in the eye. "I know... I just..." He looked back up at her with a kind of sad smile, then pulled away from the hug. "I'm going to go soak..." The boy told his mom, as he began to head down the hall and towards the entrance to the spring. 

As he walked away, Hiroko suddenly remembered something, and yelled at the boy to come back. "Wait, Yuuri! Something came for you while you were in Italy!" Yuuri then turned around, and came back to the main room. His mother shuffled over to a large table where there was a sizable pile of mail, magazines and coupons. "Victor's Team sent you a new mailer! I know you collect all the postcards, so I thought it might cheer you up a bit." 

Yuuri nodded slightly, only thinking for a quick second that it seemed a bit early for a competition schedule to be sent out, then took the piece of mail from his Mom. However his entire body stiffened and his eyes grew to the size of saucers when he took a closer look at the envelope. Rather than a mass-printed and glossy postcard, or a stuffed envelope full of information on how to watch or purchase tickets to Victor's competitions... this was just a plain white envelope, with a stamp decorated with the Russian flag and two printed stickers with the return address and his own typed out. 

He was barely able to choke out a "Th-Thanks Mom--" before he sprinted up the stairs and to his room, completely forgetting about the bath he was going to take. Not being able to hold back and longer, he tore open the envelope. Inside, he found a folded piece of notebook paper that looked like it had been ripped straight out of a journal.

As Yuuri held the Small Note, he could barely even read the words written on it. His vision blurred behind tears that threatened to fall, and he could feel his whole body begin to shake. 

The actual Victor Nikiforov had written him back. 

After the shock finally subsided, Yuuri could feel a fire burn within his stomach and grow wings, which before, had never even held a spark. 

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"Next up after the Korean rookie, Seung Gil Lee, we have Yuuri Katsuki of Japan." 

"Katsuki is sitting in 3rd place after a solid Short Program run. He set a personal best last month at the Merano Cup, but fell off the podium after a lackluster Free Skate." 

As Yuuri was stretching in the wing before he took the ice, he knew what the commentators had to be saying about him. Even though he had great stamina, his anxiety usually got the best of him in the Free Skate because it was worth more points. However today, Yuuri felt insatiably calm. 

A competition runner came up to him to let him know that he had 2 minutes before show time. The Japanese teen nodded at the man, and muttered a small thanks. Taking a steady, deep breath, Yuuri pulled a piece of paper out from underneath a flap in his black and firey costume. As he read the words written on it, he felt a wave of comfort flow over him.  

Remember that technical points don't make your program -- your performance does.

With love, 

Victor Nikiforov

Yuuri quickly folded the paper back up, and tucked it into place — but not before giving it a gentle kiss, just like he had seen Victor do in every competition since his first Grand Prix Final. 

"Next up, is Yuuri Katsuki of Japan skating to Igor Stravinsky's "The Firebird" for his Long Program." 

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Victor leaned in slightly forward, his eyes sparkling and bright as he watched a young, Japanese skater perform as if his heart was on fire. He watched the flame-like ruffles and embellishments flow and flicker as he completed a high intensity sit spin into a leg extension. The sleek, black fabric of the costume contrasted with the bright and billowing burning appliqués, while accentuating every kick and turn that the boy did. Finally, as the brunette dug his toe pick into the ice, and hit his final pose with his arms outstretched as if they were wings, Victor couldn't help himself but clap. 

"An incredible Free Skate performed by Yuuri Katsuki!" 

"This could quite possibly be Katsuki's first recorded no-fall program since his Junior Debut!" 

"And — this could quite possibly be his golden ticket to the Junior Grand Prix Finals." 

Victor sat and took in the commentary that was filling up the time in between the score announcement. All the while, he thought to himself: "How come I have never heard of this 'Yuuri Katsuki' before...?" 

The 20 year-old didn't have much time to think before a final score appeared on the screen. Or, before a smirk tweaked the Russian's lips upwards in intrigue. 

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Yuuri's ears were ringing and he could barely even remember to breathe. The crowd was drowning out any semblance of thought going through his head, and the spotlight shining directly on him made it impossible to see anything else around him.  

But somehow, Yuuri Katsuki found himself standing on top of the podium. With a gold medal hanging around his neck. 

"—And the winner of the John Curry Memorial Cup is — Yuuri Katsuki!" 

The newly-crowned winner felt a bouquet of flowers shoved into his arms, and was reminded to wave by whoever was standing on the podium to his right. However, as the crowd slowly died down, all Yuuri could think was: 

"I'm going to the Junior Grand Prix Finals...!" 

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: "I Kiss The Name That You Sign"

"It seems that the former gold medalist, Victor Nikiforov is experiencing a bit of a slump. Did the fire that he exhibited in his senior debut burn out?" 

"Even though he made it onto the podium thanks to his impressive short program, if he continues to skate like he did in that free skate, this could be the signs of an early retirement." 

"Will Nikiforov be able to climb back up the ranks and make it to the Grand Prix Finals this December?" 

On his screen, was coverage of the medal ceremony for Skate America. In the center wearing gold, was a fellow Japanese skater, Takahiko Kozuka. To his left was the American spitfire — Johnny Weir. Then, looking incredibly out of place and defeated to the right, with his long silver hair hanging limply around him, was none other than Victor Nikiforov. The young man had barely managed to earn a place on the podium after he fell out of his signature Quad Flip, and missed another combination. 

Even from 5000 miles away and a low-quality TV screen between them, Yuuri could still feel the frustration that the silver-haired boy was trying to hold back. Even from 5000 miles away, Yuuri could tell that something was wrong. 

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When he was finally back at home, Yuuri basically never saw anything other than the inside of Minako's ballet studio, the rink at Ice Castle Hatsetsu, and his own bed. Luckily, by keeping busy with training and perfecting his program, the anxious thoughts about the upcoming Junior Grand Prix Finals were kept to a minimum. Still, Yuuri being Yuuri, somehow always found the time to freak out.

Suddenly, while Yuuri was taking a break from the barre and sitting in the corner, he dropped his water bottle, and burst out yelling:

"How on earth did I win a GOLD MEDAL? How on earth did I qualify for the freaking JUNIOR GRAND PRIX FINALS? I will never be able to —" 

From across the studio, Minako threw her own water bottle at Yuuri to try and make him shut up. "Just be grateful Yuuri! The ISU has finally given you a chance, and has acknowledged your talent! Now DON'T WASTE IT by throwing yourself into a fit of anxiety!" Even though Minako could definitely be loud and abrasive, she had known Yuuri for long enough to know what to say and how to deal with him if he began to doubt himself. 

Yuuri turned to look at his teacher with a surprised look of pain and betrayal in his eyes as he nursed the bump left from where the water bottle had hit the back of his head. Then he took in a deep breath and sighed, realizing she was right, even if she probably could have gone about it a different way. The young skater then nodded up at her, agreeing with her brash words, and stood up to get back to work. 

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Much to Yuuri's chagrin, he couldn't just hole himself up in the ballet studio until midnight every night, or skate all day at the rink. Now that he had actually WON, and was training for the Junior Grand Prix Finals, the Japanese Skating Federation began to spend more time, money and effort to prepare him — since he was Japan's best shot at placing at the Junior Men's Level in years. 

The JSF made Yuuri Katsuki — an anxious and socially awkward teenager — do photoshoots and interviews for local magazines, and even made him attend sponsor-mixers to gain more funding and attention. All of this, albeit good for his career, was incredibly draining for Yuuri. He thought the whole thing was an unnecessary distraction and a waste of energy compared to actually practicing. Even though he had almost 2 months to prepare for the Junior Grand Prix Finals, it still didn't feel like nearly enough time for Yuuri. 

Often times with his intense training schedule and full "social" calendar given to him by the JSF, all Yuuri wanted to do was go home and sleep for days. Or write to Victor to ask for advice. He KNEW that Victor would never be as overwhelmed by all the press attention. The thought was only worsened by the fact that Yuuri's was only a fraction of the media exposure Victor had. 

But every time that Yuuri finally found the time to sit down and write... he just couldn't. Each letter sounded too forced, or too personal, or too desperate, and the brunette usually just ended up crumpling them up and throwing them into his trash. Even though he knew that Victor had to be a nice and understanding person (because otherwise, he never would have responded to his last letter), Yuuri felt guilty about wanting to tell Victor about everything that was going on with his skating career. Plus, he also knew that if he divulged too many details, Victor might be able to decipher that Yuuri Katsuki was the mystery fan. Still, after almost a month since he had received the letter from Victor, he had not made any progress what-so-ever. 

It wasn't until Yuuri came home one night, after a grueling informational session with JSF that he finally was able to sit down and write. The JSF had brought together all of their representative skaters (as well as the seniors who were likely to make it to the GPF) to talk about team sponsorships, gear and accommodations that they would be provided in Goyang, as well as any individual concerns or needs. Even though it was very helpful to learn all of the information, meet his teammates, and figure out what the JSF wanted from him, Yuuri's introverted nature just made him want to curl up in the corner and tune out the overwhelming onslaught of information. 

Finally, at around 12:30 or 1 in the morning, Yuuri managed to make it home to Hatsetsu. He barely made it up the stairs before slumping in his desk chair, forcing himself to update his schedule for he week before he headed to bed. However, out of the corner of his eye, a small, black frame caught his eye, and a wave of nostalgia and warmth flew over him. Immediately, he grabbed the edges of the frame, took it off of his wall and into his hands, and began to read the neat writing on the not-so-neat paper. 

The letter that Victor had written him had meant so much to him, and honestly, it was probably the difference between the gold medal and a spot at the Grand Prix Finals, and another 4th place finish. Then, a feeling of guilt began to pool in his stomach as he thought about all that had changed since he had last opened the letter. Yuuri had been so caught up in training, and so overwhelmed by the meager success he had achieved, that he hadn't even been able to say "Thank you" to the man who continued to inspire him daily. He hadn't even been bothered to send a "Good Luck" note to the Russian skater before Skate America. 

Yuuri stiffened as he realized that for the first time in almost 3 years, Yuuri had not sent Victor a letter before a major competition. Of course, there's no reason that he should think his letters matter, but after watching Victor's uncharacteristic performance at Skate America... he couldn't help but feel guilty. 

He read over the loving advice that Victor had taken the time to write, to him, and realized that Victor at least deserved that much. Yuuri quickly ripped a piece of lavender stationary off of a pad on his desk, grabbed a pen, and began writing the words that he thought Victor needed to hear — especially after Skate America. He just hoped that his letter would arrive in time...

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A harsh slam shook the small apartment as Victor rushed in to throw his gear down, and try to cool down after yet another terrible practice session. Sometimes "skating angry" could help boost a performance — but for Victor — it just made everything worse. For god's sake, he couldn't even land his signature Quad Flip anymore, just like how he couldn't at Skate America. He even fell out of his triples and combinations. Not to mention how he knew that he couldn't possibly be performing his show when all he could feel was anger and frustration.

With another slam of his fists on his dining table, a small yip could be heard from his poodle, who was hiding in the hallway. Wearily, Makkachin walked up to his owner, and nudged the man's black pants with his cold nose, as if to ask him if he was alright. Victor looked down at the grey-toned poodle with sad eyes, and gently reached down to rub his back. Somehow, Makka always knew how to calm the Russian skater down. 

Victor then turned to look at the calendar on his wall. The large, plainly-colored grid showed that there were only 8 days until a section of 3 brightly colored days were circled to signify the Cup of Russia. The silver-haired man sighed, crossing off that day's date, and headed up to his room. There, on his desk, he spied a now slightly-crumpled letter that he had received at the beginning of September from his "Secret Fan". He reached to pick up the piece of paper, and his eyes widened slightly when he thought about how long it has been since he had received a letter. For the first time in almost 3 years, his fan had not sent him a letter before a major competition. 

Victor shut his eyes tight, running a hand through his long, silver hair, and took in a shaky breath as he tried to control the unruly thoughts that were taking over his mind. 

"Does he not like me anymore? I mean there's no doubt that he saw the disgraceful performance I had at Skate America... He probably thinks that it's foolish to be a fan of someone who can't even land their own signature jump..." 

He took another look down at the note, and remembered the advice he had written back to the younger boy about his time at the Junior level. 

"Or... maybe he is just embarrassed about not doing well in his competitions like I am... I mean, I probably wouldn't be able to write back after I had lost... Especially if he didn't qualify for the Junior Grand Prix Finals..." 

Victor was then brought out of his own head when he felt the sturdy body of his standard poodle rub against his legs, signaling the need for a walk. He grabbed his dog's leash, as well as his keys out of habit, and through mostly sheer muscle memory, took the large poodle out for his nightly walk.

As he made his way around his normal route, Victor passed by the wall of silver mailboxes and sighed. He figured he should at least clear out the junk mail, and check to see if there were any bills he needed to pay. The man blindly grabbed the pile of mail without even looking, locked up the small box, and continued on the walk without a second thought.

The pair paraded around the complex for a few more minutes before finally heading home. Slightly calmer now, Victor didn't scare his own dog just from closing the door. After unhooking the leash and removing his shoes, the young skater unceremoniously dropped the pile of mail onto the dining table. But just as he was about to leave to head back towards his room, Victor could see a small, white envelope peeking out from underneath a page of coupons... with what looked to be a small sticker of a dog...? And the tell-tale golden stamp. 

Without a second thought, Victor took his slender arm and shoved everything off of the table, until he could hold the small envelope in his hands. When he saw the Japanese address and the distinctive handwriting, Victor could feel tears well up in his eyes. Slowly, he opened the envelope, and all of the worry and frustration were steadily released from his body with the distinctive rip that came from opening it. Then, he pulled out a lavender-toned paper, with a dog theme to the stationary. Along with the paper, a small photograph fell out of the envelope as well, featuring a smaller dog that curiously resembled his own poodle, Makkachin. 

 (Here is a hyperlink if it doesn't work)

As Victor read the letter, he realized that his suspicions were probably right, since the boy hadn't mentioned anything about the Grand Prix or his own performances. He was a little bummed, but still a genuine smile appeared on his face as he set the letter down onto his desk. Just that small piece of paper and a picture filled his with the inspiration and confidence that he had been lacking over the last month or so. And it gave him an idea.

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 "Victor Nikiforov of Russia." 

The lackluster announcement could be heard over the PA system as the Russian with young, androgynous features and long hair skated off of the ice. He knew that he hadn't done poorly per say, but Victor could just feel in the bottom of his stomach that he wasn't going to get a great score. During that performance, he just didn't perform it. He landed his jumps fine (for the most part) albeit leaving out his signature quad flip, and accidently turning one of his combinations into a simple double toe loop. Victor was too in his head, and he hadn't even thought to put a combo in somewhere else in his routine. 

As he headed to the Kiss and Cry, his melancholic disappointment was tangible. When his score of 74.25 came up on the screen, he wasn't even surprised. Disappointed? Yes, because that was 7 whole points lower than his SP score at Skate America. But honestly, all Victor wanted to do was leave. He was angry at himself, because what was he going to do if he was already out of his prime at age twenty?!?! 

Yakov could see the inner turmoil that Victor was going through, and knew that even if he had something to say, he figured that 1) Victor would probably be harder on himself than even he would, and 2) there was no way he was going to listen to what he had to say.

When Victor could finally leave the Kiss and Cry, he bolted. He didn't look at anyone on his way back to the locker room, he just changed as fast as he possibly could, grabbed his bag, and practically ran back to the hotel. 

Victor tried not to let his anger get too out of hand, because he saw the scoreboard when he got back to his room, and somehow he had managed to stay in 2nd place, even with his poor score. However, Brian Joubert, the French skater in 1st place, got an 86.10. An 86.10 meant that to even hope to stay in second, not even thinking about gold, he would need to skate a new personal best in his free skate.

Just thinking about all the possibilities of tomorrow and calculating the numbers made Victors mind race, and he violently ran his hands through his long hair to grab at his scalp — trying to at least get some semblance of a hold on himself. The feeling of the long, silky strands in between his fingers felt like he was holding on to some part of him that he just wasn't any more. Silver encroached on his vision as he slumped over, his head still in his hands, and his knees pulled into his chest. This hair had been with him when he had won both the Junior and Senior gold in the span of 2 years. But now... it was just weighing him down. 

With that, he jumped off of the hotel bed, and began rummaging through his signature blue skating bag. When he couldn't find what he was looking for immediately, he proceeded to dump out the contents of his bag onto the bed, until he saw a pair of silver shears laying among the mess. He grabbed the cold, metal scissors, and walked to the bathroom. 

Looking at himself in the mirror, he brushed a gentle hand through the hair that framed his face, and pulled it back, as if trying to examine what his facial structure would look like while not being covered by the silver curtain. He took a deep breath, and turned from side to side, before grabbing a hair tie off of the counter, and beginning to quickly braid sections of his hair. 

Without a second thought, he picked up the pair of scissors, and held the braid in his hand. After death gripping the handles to try and get through the entirety of his hair, he felt his whole body release a heavy sigh as the bundle of braided hair was now lying limply in his left hand. Before he could even think about looking up at the mirror, he just stared down at the clump of hair hanging over his hand, and realized that maybe change was just what he needed. 

Slowly, he took in the new reflection staring back at him. Even though the hair obviously needed some work, just that one chop made him feel... different. Before, he had heard comments about how he looked like he was holding desperately onto his youthful looks — and maybe they had been right. The long hair was like a mask that covered Victor's insecurities about not being good enough, or a constant reminder of how he started at the top, and couldn't let himself fall. 

Now, with his hair just barely grazing his jawline, he could see adult features that he had not been able to see before. Staring back at him wasn't the Junior champion, or the 16 year-old Victor Nikiforov who had won gold before. His reflection revealed a new future for Victor Nikiforov, that wasn't dictated by his past. This was a new man, and a new Victor, who would not settle for the silver color of his hair. This was a Victor who could strive for gold.

Victor took a few more moments to look at his new appearance, as well as to trim some unruly hairs and some bangs for himself. Then he sighed, because even though he was happy with the change he knew that 1) he definitely should have had someone else cut it, and 2) Yakov might seriously kill him this time. 

He walked back into his room to look for his phone in the mess on his bed. Victor knew that his friend Chris, who was currently sitting in 3rd, might be able to help him fix the mess he made. But as he was searching, a slightly beat-up looking white envelope caught his eye. The Russian boy took it into his hand, and re-opened it, pulling out the purple letter that was embellished with small poodle pictures. 

While rereading the letter from his fan, Victor realized that for both the entirety of Skate America and his short program, he had not had a letter with him. For the first time in almost 3 years, he had not taken one of his letters onto the ice with him — and Victor, being the superstitious skater that he is, mentally cursed himself. But, he also thanked whichever god was looking over him for reminding him of the words written on that paper that had kept him grounded. 

Soon after replacing the letter inside its envelope, Victor found his phone, and shot a quick text to his friend, who he knew cut his own hair. 

To: Christophe Giacometti 

Do you have a hair trimmer? 

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The next morning Victor was met with constant shock and praise for his new look. Except from Yakov, who could only be described as apprehensive about the sudden change. However, it was Victor, who was known for surprises, so Yakov should have expected as much. Throughout his entire warm up, Victor felt light. Lighter than he had felt since his placement at Worlds. He felt strong and powerful, and like he was ready to show the world a brand new Victor Nikiforov. 

As warm ups ended, and the first skater took the ice, the Russian relaxed onto a bench in the wing, and plugged in his earbuds to listen to his music. He once again took out the small envelope out of his skating bag to read the comforting words before his skate. Even though it wasn't necessarily as "moving" as the first time he had received a letter from the "secret fan", Victor's heart still fluttered every time he read the distinctive handwriting.

Although Victor knew that he had to get almost 14 points higher than his last Free Skate to win gold, he wasn't phased. Even if he could hear the mumbled comments of doubt coming from the announcers discussing him, he didn't care. 

Still feeling light and confident, Victor grazed his lips over the purple paper, and tucked it behind the purple and white chiffon that emulated the milky way on his costume. The rest of his costume ranged from a deep black velvet to a lighter navy color, and had scattered crystals all over that formed constellations.

Then, as a runner came over to tell him it was time, Victor removed his blade covers, and his thoughts roamed to the teen in Japan who was watching him from thousands of miles away. 

"Skating to his program, "Stars" — is Victor Nikiforov!" 

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"150.3! A new personal best for the Russian Skater!" 

"And a new haircut to boot! You can tell not only by the new hair, but by his performance tonight, that the Victor you saw out on that ice is miles apart from the skater we saw yesterday and the skater we saw at Skate America." 

"Is this going to be a new era for Nikiforov as he transitions into adulthood? Can we expect more adult themes from his skating in the future? Will he show off more sex-appeal than the vulnerability and androgyny we have seen exhibited before?" 

"We will have to wait and see, but I can promise that fans around the globe are probably dropping dead in their homes from the shock and awe of his new appearance." 

For the rest of the competition, Victor's hair was the only thing that ANYONE could talk about. Even as he was standing on the podium with the silver medal around his neck, he could still feel the spotlight and everyone's eyes on him. While the other two medalists were holding their respective hardware, the silver medalist instead reached into his costume and pulled out the small note. A warm and genuine smile filled his face as he held the note to his chest, grateful for its presence, even if it was just his own stupid superstition. 

A superstition which he was elated to share with the world tomorrow. 

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Back in Japan, the Cup of Russia weekend had proven difficult for Yuuri as a spectator. By the medal ceremony, the Japanese skater's heart probably couldn't have taken anymore of the roller coaster of emotions and worry that this competition had put him through. Until the Free Skate was over, Yuuri had been on the edge of his seat and on the verge of tears, when he realized that Victor might not qualify for the Grand Prix Finals — and again, on the verge of happy tears when he saw that Victor did manage to earn enough points to earn a trip to Korea. 

However nothing could prepare him for what was about to be shown on the TV screen. It was Sunday, and even though the competition was over, Yuuri was excited to watch the exhibition live broadcast. Only some of the qualifying events even had exhibitions, let alone live streams of them, so he was incredibly grateful. 

As per usual, the different skaters were able to showcase either their own choreography, or the types of songs that their coaches would never let them skate to. A skater from France ended up skating to some song from Les Miserables, while basically just wearing a dirty and ripped-up costume. Then a skater named Christophé Giacometti skated to some American pop song, by... What was her name? Oh yeah, Beyoncé. And THAT exhibition was WAY too sexual for an 18 year-old, even if he was skating at the senior level. Even after that performance, Yuuri was still not prepared for when Victor took the ice.

Of course, he had seen Victor's new, shorter hair the day before.... but THIS was different. He was dressed in a loose-fitting, seafoam-green button down shirt, with a black lace-up vest on top. The pants were a tawny, velvet-looking fabric that were all together WAY too tight to keep Yuuri from staring at his muscular thighs and thick... calves. 

He was brought out of the Victor-induced trance by the announcer, who signaled the beginning of the program.

"Now skating in exhibition, Victor Nikiforov!" 

As the jazzy, but light piano music filtered through the stereo on his TV, the lights centered on the rink dimmed to a purple, with a lone spotlight focused on the silver-haired skater. Yuuri found himself immediately entranced by Victor's fluid movements, somehow even more so that he had ever been with any of his previous performances. 

The song was in English, and as Yuuri heard the lyrics "Love letters straight from your heart" , a feeling akin to having too much caffeine running through your system flooded his body. Some selfish part of Yuuri could only interpret this exhibition as if it was being skated for him, and it made him feel inadequate and lonely — like he was being crushed by the reminders of distance and love. 

Yuuri was brought out of his longing and lonely thoughts as Victor reached into a pocket of his shirt to pull out a piece of paper as the music played the words "I memorize every line". Then, Victor unfolded the small note, revealing what looked to be a letter. 

When the lyrics "And I kiss the name that you sign" were heard, the cameraman zoomed into Victor's face as he pressed a kiss to the small note. But the zoomed in video footage revealed the purple color of the note, along with a blurry but still distinctive cartoon sticker of a poodle. 

The water glass Yuuri had been drinking fell from his hand out of shock, and spilled on the ground as he pressed a shaking hand to his mouth, trying to contain his now shallow breaths and skyrocketing heartbeat. He was barely able to focus his vision through the tears that were forming in his eyes, but he sat and watched in awe as Victor slid into a final pose with his arms outstretched, still clutching the letter. 

His letter. His letter, that Victor had kissed. His letter, that Victor had skated with. In Victor's  exhbition skate. In Victor's exhibition skate to him. 

(I'm sorry the picture is so big, here is a smaller version, since AO3 hates me)  

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: "Will I See You There?"

Even with the Junior Grand Prix Final quickly approaching, the image of Victor Nikiforov holding his letter — in his own hands, on the ice at the Rostelecom Cup — never ceases to make Yuuri Katsuki lose it. Of course, these random memories and freak outs never happened during convenient times. It could be when Yuuri was in class taking notes, and the tune of his exhibition song would get stuck in his head — leaving him resembling a tomato. Or he would remember the moment he saw Victor pull that purple piece of paper out of his vest... of course, while he was skating on the ice — and Yuuri would slam his face into the barrier — literally knocking his senses back into him.

It wasn't until he completely spaced out while at the barre in Minako-sensei's studio, lost in the memory of Victor's new blunt undercut, that he realized he had a problem. 

"—uuri! Hey Yuuri, are you even listening to me? I said to do the third combination!" 

The shrill voice of his ballet teacher finally cut through Yuuri's thoughts, and he shook the memory out of his system, only to feel incredibly embarrassed that it happened AGAIN. But hey, at least he didn't give himself another bloody nose by banging into the wall... 

As Yuuri began the combination, Minako just stood at the front of the room, sighing and shaking her head. "What has gotten into you, Yuuri? You can't keep spacing out like this! I KNOW you've been distracted ever since Victor's performance at the Rostelecom Cup but... you literally have two weeks until you leave for the god forsaken Junior Grand Prix Finals!" 

With her sharp yelling piercing him with every word, Yuuri almost fell out of a pirouette, and had to stop before he accidentally twisted an ankle. At Minako's accusations, his face flared up a bright red, but he did nothing to deny the words, because he honestly couldn't think of a believable enough lie. So instead, he just looked at her with what could only be described as puppy-dog eyes, and hoped he would trigger some sympathy in her cold hearted teaching. 

Minako just shook her head again, and ran a hand threw her long brunette hair. "You can freak out all you want about 'Victor this' and 'Victor that' after the Grand Prix Finals are OVER." She then took a break from her rant for a quick second, and shrugged. "Unless you want to do well at Japanese Nationals.... or Four Continents... or if you want to even THINK about making it to Worlds..." with each added stressor, Yuuri visibly paled. "But hey, you can resume your regularly scheduled fan-boying either AFTER Worlds, or whenever you stop qualifying for competitions... whichever comes first. But for now, you don't have time to be distracted by a fan-boy crush on Victor Nikiforov."

Yuuri didn't even need to look at Minako to know she had an evil, all-knowing smirk on her face — he could just hear it in her voice. Sadly though, Yuuri knew she was right. All he could do was meekly reply.  

"Yes ma'am..."

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If there was one thing Yuuri hated more than constantly practicing until he felt like he was going to pass out, it was meeting with the Japanese Skating Federation. Sure, it was great that they were helping him so much, and putting the effort into his meager skating career, but all it felt like to Yuuri was pressure. The pressure to not say something stupid, pressure to live up to expectations and pressure to usher in a new era of Japanese figure skating. 

Since he had qualified for the Junior Grand Prix Final, Yuuri had grown more accustomed to these meetings. Even though he now knew many of the JSF representatives relatively well now, and could hold a fairly long conversation without feeling nauseous, he was still the same old Yuuri Katsuki with crippling anxiety. 

Today however, he wasn't alone. This would be his last meeting with the Japanese Skating Federation before he headed to Goyang. Sitting in front of him, across a high end glass office table, was a fairly stern-looking representative, dressed in the official JSF suit, with folders full of information laid out on the table in front of them. To Yuuri's right, sat Minako-sensei, who had been asked to attend in order to discuss Yuuri's progress, as well as any changes needed before the Grand Prix Final. On his left was Yuuri's current coach, Ryuuto Suzuki. 

Suzuki had been coaching Yuuri for almost two years now, but he was his fifth coach in almost four years. Even though the two weren't very close outside of their professional relationship, Coach Suzuki had been the closest thing to a real coach Yuuri had ever had. Combined with Minako's flexibility training and choreography, the pair of teachers had helped bring Yuuri to this very moment. 

The meeting finally started when the stagnant silence was broken by the JSF representative. "Good evening Katsuki-san.  Suzuki-san. Minako-san." He paused for a moment in between each name to shake their hands, before returning to the papers in front of him. "The JSF brought you all here today to discuss any final thoughts, changes, questions or anything regarding the upcoming Grand Prix Final, as well as your immediate future afterwards. To begin, do you have any questions right now?"

Since Yuuri had never been good at thinking on the spot, and couldn't remember anything pertinent enough to bring up first, he shook his head. 

"Very well then" the representative nodded, and grabbed one of many sheets of paper that littered the desk. "Okay, well let's start by talking about your program. If I'm correct, you have received a sponsorship for a new competition costume for your short program, right? Has it arrived for you to begin rehearsing with it?" 

Yuuri shook his head again. "No sir, but it should be arriving any day now." 

The man didn't look up, but shallowly nodded as he made some notes on the sheet. Then he turned to Suzuki, and then to Minako. "Have there been any changes or additions to either his short or long program that need to be marked for the judges?" 

Both teachers looked at each other, before deciding that Ryuuto would speak first. "Yes, in the months since the John Curry Memorial Cup, we have been focusing on harnessing Yuuri's stamina. So, we have moved his Triple Axel in his Short Program and Long Program to the second half, as well as his Triple-Double Toe Loop combination in his Long Program. Yuuri also added a Triple Combination into his Free Skate. This way, we are able to take advantage of more point multipliers for his technical score. Besides that, most of the technical components are the same, save for some slight alterations in the step and spin sequences."

With every addition, the representative just nodded in understanding, and vigilantly took down the notes, before looking up again and locking eyes with Yuuri. "Yuuri, have you given any thought to an exhibition skate?" 

To be honest, he had. But if he was also being honest, he didn't feel confident enough in it to perform it on the ice in front of the entire world. He took a second, then steadied his breath before replying. "Well, I have been working on a piece with Minako-sensei..." who nodded, agreeing when prompted. "But... with all of the training and work that I still have to do, I don't know if it will be ready in time for the Grand Prix Finals.."

The expression on the representative's face softened slightly in understanding — over the past season, most of the JSF had grown to know more about Yuuri, and understood how much of an accomplishment his skating was with his level of anxiety and his introverted nature. So he could figure what kind of toll his practice schedule was taking on him. "I understand, Yuuri... you know what? Just send me an email by the end of the week about whether or not you would like an exhibition spot. If you end up finishing the routine, we can let the ISU know. If not, you can always mull it over until Nationals." 

Yuuri let out a breath he didn't know that he had been holding, but was grateful. He was always so worried about disappointing his country and the JSF, that he always walked on eggshells in these meetings, not wanting to lose the support he had worked so hard to gain. 

The rest of the meeting mostly consisted of logistics and explaining the formalities that came along with his first international championship. For what seemed like an hour, they talked only about his flight itinerary and the hotel that Yuuri and Coach Suzuki would be staying in. Then, the representative got out of his seat, left the office for a few moments, and returned with a large athletic bag. 

The bag was red with white embroidery and patches all over, and had a large "Team Japan" emblazoned across the largest portion of the main pocket. As Yuuri unzipped it, he found his official JSF regulation suit that he was to wear to press conferences, as well as a bright blue jacket that he has seen on his fellow skaters for so long, and only dreamed that he would ever be able to wear. Inside, there were some other small goodies and other official gear, but Yuuri knew that nothing would be as special as putting on his official jacket for the first time. Which, only took him about a milisecond to unzip it, and pull on, never wanting to take it off. This jacket, somehow, was proof that his hard work had been worth it, and that he was really going to be representing his country. 

Amid the chaos and excitement of Yuuri's new Team Japan gear, the representative spoke up. "Okay, Yuuri, there are just a few more things we need to discuss before I can send you back home. First, you need to be prepared for the different outcomes this competition can bring. Either way, you will gain more notoriety and fame just because you are representing Japan at the Grand Prix Finals. Even if you place 8th, you will probably get local sponsorship offers and get asked for even more interviews and photos here in Japan. If you manage to score well, and place above at least 5th, you will probably be surrounded by skating officials and brand owners during the Gala event. Success in Goyang could propel you into a full-fledged skating career with appearances and exhibitions taking up as much of your time as practicing." The man took a short pause to let everything sink in for Yuuri. 

As he listened to all of the information being thrown at him, Yuuri was overwhelmed. It was a lot to take in: fame and success through a sport he loved was all that Yuuri had ever dreamed of. But... even the amount of publicity and attention that he's gotten since the John Curry Memorial Cup had been overwhelming to say the least. Yuuri barely had any time for himself, and still had no idea how to deal with the press. Luckily, he was a fairly boring person outside of skating, so there wasn't much worry for scandal, but he could only imagine what would happen if he actually managed to medal. 

Soon after, he nodded curtly and replied: "Yes sir, I understand." 

The representative let a small smile appear on his face before he continued. "Good. Now, since you are about to turn 18, I would like to discuss your skating future. As you know, you can only compete on the Junior level until you turn 19. Are you planning on moving up —"

"YES", he couldn't even finish his sentence before Yuuri interrupted him in a voice that was way louder than he had anticipated.

It had been Yuuri's dream for as long as he could remember to skate in the Senior class — on the same ice and on the same level as Victor. So now that he had finally met the technical qualifications to move up divisions, Yuuri's choice was obvious. 

A small chuckle could be heard from across the table as the representative wrote a few more notes down on one of the many forms laid out in front of him. "Of course. I will make the necessary arrangements for after Worlds in March. Now..." He sat up straighter, clasped his hands together firmly, and looked intensely into Yuuri's eyes. "Have you put any thought into your plans after you graduate from high school? Are you looking into university at all?" 

The turn in conversation surprised Yuuri a little, but only because it somehow hadn't crossed his mind that the JSF would want to know where he would be attending school (if he decided to go to college at all) since that would determine where he trained. Yuuri cleared his throat bit, then took in a mellow breath before answering. 

"Yes... I have been interested in studying in America, for quite some time now, especially since I am fluent in English. I haven't decided on any schools yet, and I doubt that I will really be able to tour anywhere, but I have a few schools that I am interested in." 

The representative perked up a bit when he heard "America", and a knowing smirk appeared on his face. "America? Which schools have you been looking at? Because I can begin looking into nearby skating clubs and rinks near each school, as well as contacting coaches that the JSF has a relationship with, to see if they would be willing to take you on as a student." 

Coaches... the word rang in Yuuri's head. Until that moment, he hadn't even considered the fact that Minako and Suzuki probably wouldn't be moving with him to train. Even though he didn't have the best track record with coaches, he still liked working with Suzuki, and dreaded the process of finding yet ANOTHER coach. And Minako.... Minako had been with him from the very beginning. Since Yuuri could balance on his own two feet, he had been working with Minako. Whenever he had felt overwhelmed, or had nowhere else to go, Yuuri had been able to dance in her studio, and she had always been there for him too. But now... 

Yuuri looked at both of his coaches, but the two of them just looked at him with genuine smiles, because they knew he was destined for great things — even if it wasn't under their instruction. 

"Well, I've been looking into schools for Athletic Training and Kinesiology, because I would love to go into Exercise Science. I've also been looking at whether schools had rinks available on campus, or if they were near well-renowned skating clubs. My dream school would probably be the University of Michigan, but there are a few other schools in the state that have great programs too — like Michigan State or Wayne State University. But I've also been looking at the University of Delaware, Ohio State University, the University of Southern California and the University of Denver"

The representative nodded along and took notes, then remained silent for a short while after Yuuri had stopped speaking. It wasn't until he stopped moving his pen, and after the occasional google search on his desktop, that he replied. 

"Okay, that's a very comprehensive list to start, and we have some good ideas. Now, the Japanese Skating Federation has some strong ties in the Delaware and New Jersey area, and we can get you into contact with the Wilmington Skating Club, along with some strong coaches that our skaters have worked with in the past. We also have some strong contacts in Southern California at the Lake Arrowhead Training Facility. There are also a number of coaches based out of Detroit and Canton, Michigan that could work well with you." 

"There are four coaches who I can think of that we can introduce you to at the Grand Prix, because some of their current skaters will be there as well. One of my good friends Nikolai Morozov will be there with our own Miki Ando in the Women's Singles, as well as with Florent Armadio of France, who you will be competing against in Juniors. He is based out of New Jersey, and lives only a few minutes away from the Delaware campus. He has also worked with many of our Japanese skaters in the past."

"Galina Zmievskaya will also be there with Johnny Weir, who is competing in Seniors. She is based out of Delaware as well, so you have multiple options there." 

"There will also be two coaches from the Detroit Metropolitan Area who have skaters competing. The first is Marina Zueva, who is currently working with Patrick Chen in the senior Division. Finally, Celestino Cialdini will be there with a boy from your division, Jean-Jacques Leroy. Coach Celestino managed to qualify Leroy in his first Grand Prix Final Series at age 13, so he could be a good fit for your senior debut. Plus, if I'm not mistaken, he is an alumnus of Michigan, so he would probably be able to answer some questions about the school as well." 

When the representative finally stopped talking, Yuuri's head was spinning as he tried to process all the information at once. With the difference between Japanese and American school years, Yuuri had almost a year before he needed to submit his applications, so he had still yet to put much thought into his education before. Of course, Yuuri was grateful for the new information, but the whole meeting had already been a lot to take in. Finally, he gulped and nodded shallowly, trying to signal that he understood, even if he really didn't.

Before they left, the representative gave Yuuri a small booklet with contact information for the members of the JSF who will be there with him in Korea, as well as some information on his fellow skaters that he would be sharing rink time with. For Juniors, Japan was sending two women's skaters, as well as a pair. Then for the Senior division, three women had managed to qualify. But Takahiko Kozuka and himself were the only men in each division. Normally this kind of pressure would trigger Yuuri's anxiety, but he felt oddly calm. Maybe knowing that Yuuri was stepping into uncharted territory with Japanese Figure Skating helped to ease his fears of not living up to expectations. Then the trio was finally able to begin the trek back to Hatsetsu. 

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After what seemed like forever, Yuuri arrived back at the inn a little after midnight. The full day of training and the long meeting with the JSF had taken every bit of energy from him. Yuuri was amazed that he could even make it up the stairs and down the hallway before passing out. When he got to his room, he struggled to force himself away from immediately slumping onto the bed. With the excess of new information filling his head, Yuuri knew that he had to write notes for himself and fill out his calendar if he wanted to even hope that he would remember everything. 

While his pencil absent-mindedly glided through his planner and calendar, Yuuri felt his eyes glance over towards the letter that was hanging on his wall. He stopped writing for a second, as his mind wandered to Victor — his career and his success, his grace and beauty, and that exhibition skate... Yuuri quickly shook his head to silence the thoughts so he could maybe manage to finish his notes before falling asleep. However, he couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that kept creeping into his stomach about Victor. 

Once he closed his planner after writing down all that he could remember, he took a deep breath and glanced over the multitude of pictures, posters and memorabilia of the silver-haired skater that littered his walls. Yuuri couldn't help but feel guilty that even with how much Victor has done for him (even if he never realized it) Yuuri still couldn't find the words to respond to his idol. He wanted to respond. He wanted to tell Victor how much that exhibition skate meant to him, and how much it had inspired him, but he still always found himself just staring at a blank piece of paper. 

He took another look at his calendar, and took in a deep breath; there were only two weeks left before the Grand Prix Finals, and he knew that he had to send a letter to Victor before then. Finally, he managed to uncap his pen, and began blurting out the words that came to his mind in a frenzy. Quickly dotting his Is and crossing his Ts, not even bothering to proof read it, for fear of losing his nerve. Yuuri then unpeeled a few small stickers that were sitting on his desk, and applied them to the stationary to fill up the blank space. The stickers were cute poodles and skates, two things that always made him think of Victor, even though they could just as easily be associated with himself. Of course, Yuuri probably never would have began skating or even gotten a dog if it weren't for Victor, so it seemed fitting. Without a second thought, he stuffed the letter into a plain white envelope, and addressed it before taking it down stairs for his mom to drop off in the mail. 

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After his performance at the Rostelecom Cup, Victor had finally gotten back into the groove of things. His normal, level-headed demeanor that he normally brought to practice had returned — along with his playful and snide remarks that were usually made at Yakov's expense. Since he had qualified for the last god-forsaken spot in the Grand Prix Finals, he could breath a little easier. 

Well, breathing easy was a bit of an over-statement since he barely had even a full two weeks between the Cup of Russia and the Grand Prix Finals in South Korea. But, his quads were hitting better, as they normally should. His combinations were clean and crisp, and he was more stable and less frantic in his spins. Of course, there was still a lot of pressure (talk about the expectations of the entire Russian populace), but it was nothing that he hadn't dealt with before.  

Before he had left his apartment that morning, he had checked the mail on his early walk with Makka, and knew that he had a letter waiting for him when he got home. If it had been any other time, he would have ripped it open right there — but he was in full on competition mode. Victor needed the motivation and the incentive to do well in practice, and knew that a new letter from his "fan" would serve just that purpose. 

As soon as Yakov called the day to close, and Victor had felt solid about his efforts for that day, he rushed home. He was buzzing with energy and excitement that only normally came from small children opening their presents on Christmas morning — and from Victor Nikiforov himself, when he received a new letter. 

He was giddy as soon as he saw the scribbly penmanship on the envelope, and carefully tore the it open.

Victor was glad that he lived alone, so that no one would be able to see the genuine smile on his face as he saw the cute stickers and giggled at the pun about his short program. Then another thought ran through his mind, and Victor couldn't help but feel like his admirer was dancing around the subject of the Junior Grand Prix. 

'There is only one Japanese skater heading to the Grand Prix Final in each men's division... but I mean I guess, theoretically he could be in pairs... he can't be an ice dancer though, because he talked about having his triples... but who knows, he might not have even been selected for two qualifying events... or he might not have even been placed at all! Japan has a lot of skaters, but they haven't had much international success outside of the women's division recently...'

'What about that... Katsu boy? Or was it Katsushi? Katsuki? Some thing like that...' 

Victor then immediately shook the thought from his head and laughed. Because no matter how successful or famous he was, or whether or not he had one gold medal or ten, Victor Nikiforov had no sense of his own self worth. 

'Ha, as if an actually successful skater would send ME fan mail...'

Either way, he managed to muster up the will and words to write a response. He sat down in his kitchen, and ripped out a small piece of paper from his planner, this time trying to at least guide along the perforation. Then, he picked up a pen and quickly wrote a few short words. 

I'm glad that you got to see my exhibition skate, because it was really the only proper response I could think of to thank you. Your letters are always a highlight in my life, and have definitely pulled me out of some slumps in the past. 

But don't worry, you will be able to see it again. I will be performing the exhibition again at the Grand Prix Finals. Will I see you there? 

With Love,

Victor Nikiforov

 

He smiled contently to himself as he signed his name, and sealed the envelope, not even realizing what the date was until after he rushed to send the letter. It wasn't until he dropped the letter into the mail slot that he mentally punched himself, because it was  already less than a week before he would be flying to Korea. Sadly, he knew that if he was lucky enough for 1) his admirer to be going to the GPF 2) the letter to arrive on time, there was no way he was going to be getting a response in time. 

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Up until the moment he stepped off the plane in Seoul, Yuuri had barely been aware of anything that had happened in the past week. He knew he had trained (a lot), and eaten (not a lot), and had received his new costume... but the days had blurred into each other, and all Yuuri could really feel was exhausted.

Luckily, unlike other international trips that he had made in the past for competitions, Goyang was relatively close. He was able to fly out of the Saga Airport earlier that morning, and since the plane ride was only about an hour and a half, he could take a fairly long nap before he had to meet Suzuki. Then, they would go to a rink just outside of Seoul, and run through his short and long programs. 

Yuuri was also incredibly grateful they had decided to leave on Wednesday instead of Thursday — that way, he had more time to (try to) relax, and practice on his own before the other competitors got there.  Minako, Mari and Yuuko would be arriving Friday night, and would be driving straight from the airport to the arena. Unlike a lot of his other competitions, since it was so close to Japan, his family could actually be there to cheer him on. 

Minako would have been there, whether he liked it or not. Same with Mari, because even though his parents couldn't really drop everything and close up the inn for a weekend to go see him perform, they could deal without an extra set of hands for a few days. Especially since Mari still loved watching figure skating, and she was his closest family support. Yuuko however, had only told Yuuri she would be going a few weeks in advance. She had always been there to support Yuuri — locally — and back at home to train, and she still always loved watching him skate. However, she had recently gotten engaged to Nishigori, and didn't know how much freedom starting a family would give her to travel to competitions. So, she secretly started saving up her paychecks from working at the rink to buy a ticket and come see Yuuri compete on an international stage; something she only wished she had the talent and passion to do herself.

After the short taxi ride to his hotel, Yuuri, still in a bit of a daze from the jetlag, barely managed to check in and make it up to his room. It took everything Yuuri had to not pass out right then and there, but he knew he had to at least text his Mom to let her know that he had made it to the hotel in more or less one piece. 

To say Yuuri was exhausted was an understatement. In addition to his ever present anxiety, Yuuri had a horrible tendency to ProcrastiPack™ whenever he would travel. Combine that together with mild insomnia, and you get Yuuri Katsuki, who had not slept in about 48 hours.

Packing gave him anxiety, which meant that he didn't finish until about twenty minutes before he had to leave for the airport (resulting in him shoving everything that he could possibly need into his suitcase, super messily). The idea that he could have forgotten part of his costume, or his medication or something else that was super important, gave him anxiety. Traveling and flying on planes gave him anxiety, because the flights are NEVER on time, and GOD FORBID there is turbulence. Competitions gave Yuuri anxiety, because even though skating was something he loved, getting scores and being judged and competing against other talented people DEFINITELY gave him anxiety. All this anxiety made Yuuri's heart and mind race, which in turn made it impossible to pack and impossible to sleep the night before. 

However, exhaustion was still a definite thing for Yuuri. Practically the second he let himself sink into the large, cloud-like bed, he was knocked out cold. 

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Later in the evening, after his nap, Yuuri took a short taxi ride with Coach Suzuki to a local skating club, where Ryuuto had previously coached, on the Seoul side of Goyang. The practice itself was rather uneventful, but the two of them knew that Yuuri would be much better off with a few more run-throughs of his programs before the chaos of the GPF really set in. 

Yuuri did not get back to the official ISU hotel until around 9 or 10pm — and by that time, even though he was physically worn out from practice, he was still mentally wired. Not to mention that his stomach had been growling for the last few hours, annoyed that Yuuri hadn't eaten much more than airline peanuts all day. 

So, Yuuri instead took a detour to grab some snacks at the convenience store located in the hotel lobby. But boy, was that a mistake. 

As he neared the store, a large crowd of people came into focus. It wasn't a media swarm, and it wasn't a large group of fans, but something way scarier — his competitors. 

Just as he started debating in his mind whether or not he was REALLY that hungry, or if he could sneak back up to his room before anyone noticed him, he felt a cool hand snake down his back side and gently grab his ass cheek. Immediately, Yuuri jumped, practically hitting the ceiling out of embarrassment (or maybe to just get out of the situation), only to turn around and see a tan, dark blonde man with a devilish smirk on his face and a glint in his bright eyes. 

"C-C-Chris!" He could barely even stutter out his former-rival's name. 

The Swiss just gave the brunette a quick once over, but never let the playful smirk leave his face.

"Long time no see, Yuuuuri. It's good to finally see you at a Grand Prix Final... I mean, it's been sooo long, and I'm sad I never got to really compete against you in Juniors..." the gratuitous inflections in Chris' voice and his thick accent always made it seem like he was either flirting or just constantly dripping with sexual desire. 

Besides the fact that he had been groped against his will, Christophé's banter still made Yuuri uncomfortable. Ever since the older man had come of age, his overt sexuality was always front and center — which, since Yuuri had known him since Chris was 15, was a very unwelcomed thought. Plus, hearing his words just reminded him of how out-of-place he really felt; Yuuri had never, in three years of competing against Chris in Juniors, managed to beat him. And here he was, all cool and confident, at his first Senior Grand Prix Final. 

"Yeah... its good to see you too, Chris..." Yuuri had to look away for a second, his nervousness and rapid heart beat not allowing him to complete a thought while under the scrutiny of Chris' intense gaze. "Congrats on making it to the final though. But I'm confused, because I thought you didn't..." 

"Didn't qualify? Well, you would be right about that, my dear Yuuri. However, it turns out that Brian Joubert of France had to withdraw at the last minute... but I was the first alternate, and the Swiss Skating Federation was more than happy to foot the bill for my plane ticket to Seoul! So now I'm here, and we get to spend some much needed quality time together." As if to punctuate his words, Chris began to trail two fingers, teasingly down Yuuri's arm. 

"A-About that —" Yuuri instinctively squirmed away from Chris' advances before he could continue. "I was actually just about to—" 

"Yuuri!!!" But he was interrupted when his name was melodically called, by who could only be the only female skater who had ever tried to befriend him. He turned around, and saw that he was right, as he saw a way-too-cheerful Sara Crispino waving at him, arm latched onto her brother Michele. 

He took a second and looked at the intimidating group in front of him. Of course, he knew Chris, and he knew Sara. Both Sara and her brother had competed with him in Italy — but Yuuri had already lost to Michele once, when he had gotten gold at the Merano Cup. Michele had actually won gold at both of his qualifier events, at age 16 no less, and was obviously a favorite for the podium. Seeing the auburn-headed teen seething because his sister was trying to get Yuuri's attention, proceeded to make his anxiety spike even more. 

Yuuri also saw two other quiet boys leaning against the wall, both of whom honestly looked like they were just there to silently judge and scope out the competition. Sadly, Yuuri could feel a wave of nausea run through him as he recognized the two skaters. Armin Mahbanoozadeh from America and Ivan Bariev of Russia — the only two skaters in his division who had made the Junior Grand Prix Finals the year before. Not to mention that Armin was the incumbent bronze medalist — making them both favorites to medal. 

"Yuuri! Did you hear what I said?" He was shaken out of his nervous daze only to stare directly into Sara's violet eyes. She had obviously torn herself away from her twin and come up to meet him in order to force Yuuri into conversation. "I said that it's great to see you again. You were amazing at the John Curry! Oh, and happy belated birthday!"

Before Yuuri could respond, Chris gasped, and forcefully grabbed his shoulders to turn him around. "Yuuri, it was your birthday?! Are you an adult now?? We need to celebrate!" 

Yuuri just chuckled slightly, and turned back to face Sara. "Thanks... but yeah, my birthday was November 29th."

"So does that mean you'll be joining me in the Senior division next season?" Chris punctuated the question with a wink, and his words turned everybody's attention directly onto Yuuri, where they were all staring expectant daggers at him. 

"Well, that's the plan at least..." He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, wanting desperately to disappear from the conversation. 

That's when Mickey came stomping over to join them. 

"Hey! Get away from my sister, you perverts!" The anger spewing from his mouth was palpable. However, still being young, the Italian almost looked... uncomfortable. As if his normal confidence completely stemmed from his proximity to his sister, and completely revolved around protecting her. 

Chris laughed and waved him off, while Yuuri just wanted to run. "Oh don't worry Mickey, we're just having some friendly conversation!" the emphasis Chris put on Mickey's name made the red-head sneer and flush slightly. 

"Sh-Shut up Chris, you don't get to call me that! Only Sara can..." Yuuri wasn't great at interpersonal relationships and understanding other people... but anxiety was one thing he could spot anywhere. It honestly surprised him. But, thinking back on it, Yuuri had never seen Michele either off of the ice or away from his sister's side. "Plus, shouldn't you be focusing on the competition rather than hitting on every thing with a pulse?" Michele's words were obviously meant to deter Chris' advances, but they had no bite due to his uncomfortability. 

"Well maybe this is how I focus, my dear Michele. But not all of us won two golds in the qualifiers, so we have to find other... outlets to help us focus.' 

Sara grabbed her brother's arm to try and pull him out of the possible conflict and to calm him down.

"Mickey calm down! You've already beaten Yuuri before, and you're not even competing against Chris, so there is no reason for you to be so worried! You should be trying to focus and save your energy for this weekend. You know how you get when you freak out..." 

While Yuuri knew that Sara was just trying to deescalate the situation, and had no real malice in her words... they still dug a knife into his already meager confidence. All he wanted to do was melt away and disappear and hole himself up in his hotel room until he had to perform on Friday. But with the loud argument still going on, he thought it was the perfect time to try and duck out. However, as he slowly backed away from the group, he stiffened as he felt his back hit something — or someone. 

He turned around and muttered out a frantic "S-Sorry!" before he came face to face with a slightly shorter, Korean skater with large furrowed brows and a stoic, but still noticeably peeved expression on his face. Yuuri managed a hesitant "Hi... Seung Gil..." as he stepped away from the 14 year-old. 

Sara quickly stepped up and popped out from behind Yuuri. "Hi there Seung Gil! Congrats on qualifying your first competitive year!" From Yuuri's minor interactions with the tan girl over his shoulder, he knew that she was a social butterfly who always liked to meet new people and (try) to make them feel at ease. Even if it didn't always work. 

Seung Gil just scoffed and shook his head, obviously annoyed at the whole situation.  He then pushed past the group to grab a bottled coffee and a bag of chips in the store. For a his age, the Korean had an oddly terrifying aura about him, and he was always so precise in everything he said and did. 

Before either Seung Gil or Yuuri could leave the store, another even louder and even more abnoxious skater decided to crash the party. 

"What're you all doing? You can't have a party without JJ now can you, eh?" 

A collective sigh came from the group as they realized this was going to be a loooong night. Jean Jacques Leroy was of course, an incredibly talented skater — he had to be in order to qualify for the Junior Grand Prix final at only 13. However he was also a loud, pompous narcissist who was just starting to go through puberty. In other words: he was a huge pain in the ass. 

Nobody wanted to be the first one to acknowledge his presence, but they didn't need to, because the Canadian decided to continue his own train of thought. 

"Well I know you all think that you have this competition in the bag, but just wait until you see my—" he paused to hold up two J shapes with his hands "JJ Style!" JJ just stood there for a second, with a proud smile. He continued to smile as he moved his hands to cross over his chest, and even though he still had clear braces, it was easy to tell that he thought he had a million-dollar smile. 

"Nobody skates like I do; Nobody tries the tricks that I do! Just watch as I show the world my skating and usher in a new era of skating for Canada!" 

There was an uncomfortable silence for a bit, as no one expected the youngest skater to come out THIS headstrong. Until Seung Gil finally cleared his throat.

"Now if you'll excuse me..." Seung Gil deadpanned, as he paid for his snacks, pushed past he group and went back upstairs. 

Yuuri took the lull in conversation as a go ahead to quickly run into the shop, grab an instant meal and some chips, before anyone else could stop him. He paid for them, and tried his best to leave without making eye contact with anyone. It seemed that the interactions with the two youngest skaters had honestly left everyone speechless, so Yuuri was able to make his way out without much resistance. Except for another small booty pat and a wink from Chris, which took all the power that Yuuri had to not yelp at. He didn't want to waste another second downstairs, terrified of what other scary competitors might be lurking around — and he especially didn't want to run into a particular silver-haired skater, for fear of passing out or making (even more of) a fool out of himself. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity (but was actually only about 20 minutes), Yuuri made it back up to his hotel room. As soon as his key card opened his door, he sunk to the floor and held his head in his hands. 

"What have I gotten myself into....?!" 

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Most of Thursday was a blur for Yuuri. While he was grateful that jet-lag and his previous inability to sleep had let him finally get to sleep, it wasn't restful in the slightest. He felt like shit as he went through the official ISU check-in, and he knew that he probably looked like it too. During the few hours of official business they had, the only thing he could think about was how grateful he was that each age group and division had separated check-ins and meetings. Yuuri didn't now what he would have done if he had to face Victor in that state. 

Then, he had his official rink time with his competition group. For the most part, it was uneventful. Yuuri's exhaustion clouded his mind enough that he didn't even pay attention to the other skaters. Although that wasn't always a good thing, as he almost literally crashed into some American named Alexander Johnson, who luckily was more aware that he had been. It wasn't a great practice on Yuuri's part, but he hadn't broken down, and he was still standing in Korea at the Grand Prix finals as Japan's representative — and that was all he could really ask for. 

As Yuuri left the ice and began going over the little details with Suzuki, as well as his post-rehearsal stretching, the pair began to talk about their plans for the rest of the day. Even though Coach Suzuki had only been working with Yuuri for a short while, he knew how anxious and riled up Yuuri could get before a major competition. And even though he hadn't sensed too many nerves during the rehearsal, he figured that the best thing for the young man would he to relax and do some sight seeing. 

For a few hours, the two wandered around downtown Goyang, the nearby capital region of Seoul, and even took a taxi to downtown Seoul to do some souvenir shopping. While the outing took longer than anticipated, it was still a nice break away from the other competitors, and the buzzing aura around the Grand Prix Finals.

By the time Yuuri finally got back to the hotel, Suzuki had decided to cancel their last training session at his old rink, instead deciding that a good night's rest would be more beneficial for them. Well, it would have been, if Yuuri had actually slept. 

When Friday morning finally dawned, even more dread flew through Yuuri's head as he was somehow even more drained than he had been the last two days. The entire night, Yuuri had been anxiously going through the entire contents of his suitcase. He checked to make sure all the parts of his costume (the jumpsuit, his skates, his gloves, his boot covers) were here with him in Korea; and he made sure that his zippers were in proper working order, and that none of the brand-new Swarovski crystals that embellished the fabric had fallen off or were out of place. When he had sufficiently seen and touched every piece of his competition wardrobe, he began meticulously cleaning and polishing his skates — even though he would be wearing boot covers over the entirety of them. Yuuri then decided to make sure his contacts and hair gel were all sufficiently full and ready, before deciding to hop in the shower so he could feel clean and ready for the grueling day ahead.

Except the pounding of the shower along his sore muscles and the water streaming through his hair just amplified his thoughts and self-doubt. 

'How am I going to go out there and give it my all when I know that everybody is expecting me to fail?! I've only practiced in my new costume once, what if it constricts my movements and I can't land my jumps? What if because of how tired I am, I take a bad fall and injure myself? What if I put in my contacts the wrong way and irritate my eyes so I can't see properly? What if I see Victor and make a fool of myself?!'

Suddenly, Yuuri turned the water all the way to cold to try and snap himself out of his downward spiral. He took a few deep breaths, and went back to rinsing his hair before he turned the faucet off and grabbed his towel before stepping out. 

Looking in the mirror, which luckily hadn't fogged up much, he ran a hand through his hair and began wondering what he should do without for tomorrow's performance (well, when Yuuri looked at his phone, the display read 2:48am, so it was actually today's). That's when he saw a small blow dryer attached to the wall with a cord. 

'People with nice hair usually blow dry it, right?'

Yuuri then picked up a brush, and fiddled with few buttons until the contraption was blowing hot, fast air in his face. He struggled for a few minutes, practically burning parts of his skin because of hot how it was, but finally began to get the hang of it as he remembered watching his sister fluff her hair with a brush as she blow-dried it. 

The endeavor took about half an hour until his hair was finally dry, and wasn't actually sticking up in every direction. His resulting hair looked smooth and rather voluminous, but he squinted at his own reflection because it was still missing something. Yuuri contemplated whether or not to stick his head under the sink's faucet to re-wet his hair, but decided to just ask Suzuki to help him gel it back when the time came. 

Yuuri accepted the fact that he probably wasn't going to get any sleep, and laid on his bed, scrolling through texts and internet forums on his iPhone. Originally, he had just meant to check Minako, Mari and Yuuko's flight itinerary, but somehow managed to find an internet forum dedicated to the Grand Prix finals. He didn't know whether or not to be relieved or disappointed that his name didn't appear much, except when referencing the entire line-up for his age division. But, like he had surmised, no one really expected him to succeed.

If they even knew who he was. 

He continued scrolling for what was probably another hour, beginning to obsess over every theory and prediction that was posted about the skaters in Seniors, and desperately trying to avoid any coverage of the Junior division (which luckily, didn't have as many followers anyway). Suddenly, he remembered what he had originally planned on doing, and clicked on his email button to scroll through and find the itinerary. 

The trio was scheduled to leave a little bit after 5 p.m. and arrive around 6:45. They were cutting it close, but there was only one flight that traveled from Saga to Incheon a day; and on Fridays, it just so happened to leave at 5 o'clock. Dread filled his thoughts as he immediately latched on to the worst case scenarios where they would miss his skating entirely, or their flight would be cancelled and they couldn't even come at all. Luckily for the Short Program, Seniors were competing in the early afternoon, and the Juniors at night. Plus, the Men's singles were the last group to go, and he had drawn slot 7 out of 8 during registration. So even though his anxiety kept telling him that they wouldn't make it, his family still had a good shot at arriving on time. Especially since they were practically running straight to the arena from the airport. 

When the sun finally peeked over the horizon, and it was generally acceptable for him to be up and about, Yuuri snuck downstairs go grab some breakfast. Coffee and cardboard-tasting eggs were the best he could do at the 6 a.m. continental breakfast, but he was nonetheless grateful that nobody else was crazy enough to be awake yet.

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When Yuuri finally got to the rink, the only way to describe it was a disaster. Immediately, Suzuki knew that he hadn't slept at all, and texted one of the female coaches to see if they had any concealer they could use for the dark circles under Yuuri's eyes. The caffeine didn't help much either. Instead of energy to get through the day, Yuuri just felt like a car was constantly revving its engine directly under his skin — and the buzzing in his veins made it impossible for him to calm down in the slightest. 

Yuuri's designated warm-up time was just as pitiful. He only managed to land one jump correctly: his Axel. But only with a hand grazing the ice on his landing. His steps that he was so well-known for, were feeble and lackluster. Yuuri even fell out of an extension on his spin combination.

When the staffers signaled that the warm up time was over, oh how Yuuri wished he could have been a speed skater instead. Because that would mean he could have gotten off of the ice even quicker. The second he reached the gate, Yuuri hobbled as quickly as he could over to his coach, barely able to contain the tears that were threatening to fall. When he reached Suzuki, Yuuri couldn't even meet his gaze. His breath was labored, coming from behind clenched teeth in a last ditch attempt at remaining composed in front of the other skaters. 

Suzuki knew Yuuri — but that didn't mean he knew how to help him — so he just grasped the young skater's shoulder in an attempt at comfort. The coach tried to hand him his blade covers, but either because of Yuuri's violent shaking or because he could no longer focus on anything other than a small stain on the carpet below, Yuuri almost dropped them. The boy fumbled for a second, managing to catch them, before swiftly putting them onto his skates. Without even another word Yuuri stormed off to the locker room. 

The first thing Yuuri saw inside was a painting of a dead-looking sea monster hanging on the wall. At a second glance, his heart immediately dropped when he realized that what was on the wall was actually a mirror, and the dead thing was his own reflection. He ran a pained hand over the helmet-hard dried hair gel, and tried to compose himself while still looking into the lifeless eyes that stared back at him. 

'My warm up was crap. I look like crap. I feel like crap.'

A throbbing pain shot out from the back of Yuuri's head as a headache interrupted his thoughts. He quickly dug through his bag, found a handful of painkillers, chucked them into his mouth and swallowed them dry. Yuuri shuddered at the feeling, and was reminded of how slow and groggy he felt now that the morning's coffee was beginning to wear off. Of course, he wanted a Venti-sized coffee, but he knew that any more caffeine would absolutely ravage his system and cause him to shake even more than he already was. It wouldn't even wake him up — Yuuri would feel just as exhausted, but would be twice as miserable because of the caffeine overload. 

A small chime from his phone derailed his thought process, and he checked it, hoping for an update from his sister or Minako from their travels. It wasn't; it was just Suzuki.

Coach Suzuki (12:34): Try and get some rest before call time. A nap would do you well.  

 

Yuuri sighed and locked his phone, knowing that even if he wanted to see the Senior performances in the early afternoon... he couldn't really do that if he was dead. So when he got back to the hotel, he quickly sunk himself onto the bed, set a few alarms, and let sleep overtake him. 

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Yuuri awoke to a cacophony of buzzing. Groggily, he reached for his phone, still blind from sleep and lack of glasses. When he finally grabbed it, and the bright blue light lit up his face, he saw that it was not one of his alarms, but his sister calling (who also happened to leave 4 voice mails and 7 missed calls). 

After a few flailing attempts, Yuuri managed to slide the lock open to pick up the call. 

"Moshi Moshi?" 

"Yuuri! Thank god I caught you before you headed to the arena. We just boarded our plane, and we are on schedule. Looks like we'll see you in about two hours! Now... did you get any sleep last night...?" 

Yuuri cringed when he heard her accusatory tone, but he knew that he couldn't lie to her. 

"... Not really... but I did take a nap...?" He was so unsure of himself that it practically came out as a question. 

He heard a prolonged sigh before Mari could respond. "Well at least that's something... try to take it easy and don't kill yourself until you have to skate. Okay, now I really gotta go, we just started taxiing and a flight attendant gave me a really dirty look. But we all love you, and will see you soon Yuuri! Good luck!"

The line went dead before Yuuri stared back at his phone. The display read 5:02, and he debated on whether or not he could sleep for another half hour. Reluctantly, he turned off his alarms that were set to go off around 5:30, and headed to the bathroom. 

This reflection wasn't nearly as scary looking as the one Yuuri had seen in the locker room, but it still wasn't great. His nap had messed up the gel quite a bit, and he had creases all over his face from the pillow, but overall: it was fixable. Yuuri turned on the faucet, and began splashing his face with water to try and perk himself up, then began running his now wet hands through the crunchy mess. The water helped a good bit, and with the aid of a comb, it was relatively presentable again. As quickly as he could, Yuuri packed up his bag and did a once over, making sure (yet again) that he did not forget anything, before heading to the arena to actually perform. 

When Yuuri made it back to the arena, he did a quick search on his phone to try and find the schedule for was of who was performing and when. Much to his dismay, the Senior Men's Singles Short Programs had ended just about twenty minutes prior. Of course, he had really wanted to see Victor skate in person, but he still had two more opportunities before the weekend was over. 

Since Yuuri had about another hour before Suzuki was expecting him back, he begrudgingly found a seat in the bleachers while the intermission was ending. However, the anxiety-ridden teenager soon realized that watching the best skaters in the world compete was NOT the best thing for his nerves. Each time somebody landed a jump that he always flubbed, and each time someone held their extension an inch higher or for a second longer, Yuuri felt his glass heart break. Before the fourth women's skater had even taken the ice, Yuuri was sweating more than a pig in a sauna. 

Without a second thought, Yuuri popped up from the bench, and ran. He couldn't take the crisp sound of blades meeting the ice or the raucous applause that erupted with every completed jump that was a reminder of his failed warm up earlier that day. Luckily for him, the entryway where concessions and souvenirs were being sold was fairly empty, and managed to stay fairly mute to the competition inside. 

The silence managed to calm Yuuri's racing thoughts and heartbeat after a while, not even bothering to check what division was skating or what time it was. Yuuri had never been around this kind of competition before, or under this amount of pressure. The Grand Prix Final was different — there was a smothering aura that surrounded the entire competition and everyone in the building — because they knew they were the best and that they had the chance to prove they were the best. Except Yuuri didn't know he was the best. He barely even thought he was worthy to be in the same vicinity as most of these skaters, let alone be competing against them. It was simultaneously invigorating and nerve-wracking, as he couldn't figure out if he was more inspired by these senior skaters, or intimidated by them. Yuuri found himself once again lost in his thoughts, until he was jolted into awareness by an obnoxious buzzing coming from his pocket. 

Yuuri pulled his phone out of his pocket, and smiled not only because of the cute picture of Vicchan that lit up on his lock screen, but because there was a text from Minako. 

Minako-sensei (7:13): 

We just got a taxi, and we should be at the arena in about 20 minutes. 

Reply (7:15):

Okay, I'll see you soon.

Reply (7:16):

I'm in the main lobby, but I have to go back to holding soon. 

Minako-sensei (7:19): 

We will be quick, don't worry. We want to wish you luck and give you our love. Then you can leave and go kick ass.

 

It only took about five minutes before the trio finally showed up. As soon as Mari, Minako and Yuuko saw his Team Japan jacket, they immediately ran up to him and captured him in a tight hug, accompanied by a chorus of "Yuuri!!!!'s. 

But the excitement and light air about them only lasted until they could see Yuuri's face. Minako was the first one to really notice, as she unceremonially grabbed Yuuri's cheek, and got a closer look at the sallow tint to his skin and the greenish-blue hallows that formed underneath his eyes.

"Yuuri, how on earth are you supposed to look like a graceful and powerful waterfall with these dark circles?! You look more like a bat that doesn't want to leave its cave." 

"Minako-sensei..." Somehow even her sharp words and criticisms managed to cut through Yuuri's self-deprecating downward spiral, to bring a slight upward tilt to his mouth. "Believe it or not, I actually look better than I did in warm-ups earlier..." he tried to laugh it off, but only managed to remind himself of his failure on the ice earlier that day.

"A nap can't make up for pulling an all-nighter, Yuuri! I thought you had a prescription for sleep medication to help with your insomnia?" Of course Mari would try and cut through the bullshit. Of course though, the accusations that hit the nail on the head still hurt. 

Yuuri just scratched the back of his neck, trying to force the guilty tone out of his voice. "Well, it says not to 'drive or operate heavy machinery' while taking it... and I'm pretty sure having knives stuck to the bottom of your shoes counts." 

Mari just groaned in response before Yuuko joined the conversation. 

"Well I think you still look great! Can we see the new costume?" Yuuko had a similar expression on her face to the first time she saw a video of Victor Nikiforov skating. There was a glittering, youthful enchantment that expressed exactly what she was thinking. At the same time, she looked like a small puppy chasing after a squirrel because everything was so exciting and new, and it was endearing. 

Yuuri quickly shed his jacket to reveal the stone encrusted, royal blue to white ombre costume that was fitted to every centimeter of his body and looked like there was an actual waterfall flowing from off of his shoulder. 

After a few beats, Yuuri chuckled slightly. "I'll take the silence and your dropped jaws as a good sign?" The group nodded, and Yuuri pulled his jacket back on. Even though the arena was hot and stuffy, he still preferred the air of mystery that concealing his costume gave him. Plus it always felt like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders when he finally got to go onto the ice and perform. 

"Mom and Dad send their love and wish they could be here, but you know. They don't really 'get' skating. Plus they have the inn to take care of." Mari said as she shrugged, then wrapped an arm around her younger brother. 

"Takeshi sends his love too! Or, well, he probably wouldn't use those words, but he wants you to do well." 

"And just think of how famous you'll be when you come home Yuuri! I can brag to all of my customers that I taught an international figure skating champ! The snack shop will take in so much money!" Minako looked so smug, as always, but it was comforting knowing that all of them not only loved and supported him, but believed in him too. 

Before he could let any emotions overcome him, Yuuri pulled all three of them into a hug. "Thank you for coming... it really means a lot that you all came to support me. I'll try to make you guys proud." He then let go, and smiled back at them kind of awkwardly. "But it's almost time for me to head back..."

The three girls peeled themselves away, and all wished him good luck. Then they began to head in the directions of the spectator's side of the arena, all following behind Minako who was used to the competition layouts. But before they could get too far, Mari turned around and ran back towards Yuuri. 

"Wait, Yuuri!" 

Yuuri stopped in his tracks, already beginning the walk back to the locker room, and was in the process of putting his earbuds in to listen to his normal pre-performance playlist. When he turned around, he saw Mari standing in front of him holding a small envelope out towards him. 

"Here. This came in the mail this morning, and I thought you would want to read it before you skated." 

Yuuri looked down more closely at the plain envelope in her hands, and felt his heart beat an entirely different rhythm that his normal pre-show anxiety and adrenaline. Carefully, as if to make sure it was real, he reached forward and took it from her — but almost dropped it when he saw the name on the envelope.

'Victor Nikiforov' was printed in the top corner with the return address. 

Before he could open it, an announcement is made for all junior skaters to report to the holding area. Yuuri smiled warmly up at his sister, and gave her another light hug, with a whispered "Thank you". 

"Anytime". She replied, before gesturing for him to go run. 

From down the hallway, Yuuri could still distinct hear Minako yell: "Go kick some ass, Yuuri!"

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After he left the trio of girls, Yuuri rushed to the locker room to prepare himself before he had to step out onto the ice. He sequestered himself in the locker room with his iPod shoved into his ears so he could drown out any thoughts with his music. As he began to shed his team Japan jacket, he felt the starch rectangle in his pocket, and immediately remembered the letter he received. 

Yuuri fumbled with the flimsy envelope for a moment, before holding it in his hand. Just like the previous one from months back, the envelope wasn't showy; plain white with an almost blue hue, neat handwriting and a single stamp with printed Cyrillic. After staring for a quick moment at the return name and address. As Yuuri tore the envelope open, he found himself holding back tears that he didn't know had formed. Receiving the letter, which was an actual message from his idol, also almost felt like a divine message. As if it was saying: the universe is rooting for you, Yuuri. 

As he lost his train of thought, and absentmindedly began thumbing over the crisp signature, he heard an announcement over the loud speaker that said the Junior Men's Singles Competition would be starting soon. With that, Yuuri shed the rest of his warm-up suit to expose his new bedazzled and showy royal blue costume. The colors and flow of the fabric emulated a waterfall breaching over a cliff, while still fitting every curve and shape and divet of his body to show off his incredible body movements and step sequences. If the reactions from Yuuko, Mari and Minako were anything to go off of earlier, he knew this new costume would help him make a real statement on the ice. Then, he shoved the last of his gear in his locker, put on his blade covers, and walked out with the small letter in hand. 

The time in between his own quiet meditation in the locker room and when he could finally get on the ice was the most nerve-wracking part of the whole Grand Prix experience so far. He had to sit and watch as six of the best Junior Men's skaters took the ice before him, and he had to sit as he saw their scores come up on the screen — a few already higher than his own personal best. 

Finally, when a new bout of anxiety flew over him, Yuuri's grip on the now-crinkled letter tightened, and he decided to read it over once more. Victor's own words that exhibited soft humility and vulnerability unearthed a strong, passionate feeling that began to eclipse his own anxiety. 

But it was as the last skater before him took the ice, and he removed his own blade covers, that Victor's question stuck in his mind. 

"Will I see you there?"

A small smirk formed on the Japanese skaters face as he folded he small letter, and brought it up to his mouth to give a gentle kiss. As the audience erupted into a raucous applause, and the American skater took his bows, Yuuri tucked the letter into a fold in his costume that was covered by draped chiffon. 

While taking the ice, Yuuri's mind had an almost comfortable numbness and silence. Not a thought about his flubbed practice crossed his mind, no anxious worries about falling plagued him, and not even the pressure of the Grand Prix Finals with his family, the world and Victor watching him could deter him from the performance he was about to put on for the world.

With a step up and onto the ice, a picture of the silver-haired skater etched itself into his memory, reminding him that somewhere in that arena, Victor was there. And Yuuri wanted to make sure he not only saw him, but that he could never take his eyes off of him.

"Yes you will..." Yuuri muttered as he took his opening pose.

"Taking the ice, in his first Junior Grand Prix Final, Yuuri Katsuki of Japan! Skating his short program: Waterfall" 

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: "Someday, I Want To Be On Top"

As Yuuri held the final pose of his short program, all he could see was his satin, royal blue, gloved hand outstretched towards the ceiling above him; and all he could hear was his own rapid heartbeat pounding away in his head. Yuuri could see his vision tunneling, an obvious sign of exhaustion and over-exertion, but he still held the pose for as long as he could, before taking a small bow. The blood immediately rushed to his head as he ducked down, and Yuuri knew he had to get off the ice.

Little-to-no sleep and little-to-no food combined with an intense short program meant that Yuuri legitimately felt like he was either going to pass out or vomit before he even made it to the Kiss and Cry. Usually, he would revel in the applause, or try to find a cute stuffed toy that was thrown onto the ice to add to his collection... but all that Yuuri could think about was getting off the ice. Luckily, Suzuki had known Yuuri for long enough that he knew when he had over-worked himself and could use a bit of literal support. As soon as Yuuri made it off of the ice, Suzuki wrapped his arms around the skater in a cordial hug.

"Do you want help walking to the Kiss and Cry? You can lean on me if you need, but you'll have to put your skate guards on first. That way if you trip, you won't hurt yourself or anyone else." The coach asked quietly, so the crowding media hopefully wouldn't be able to distinguish the words.

Yuuri just succinctly shook his head, and simply stayed in the embrace for another moment to catch his breath, before he took the guards from Suzuki. The two then walked over to a bench, where Yuuri was able to sit to avoid toppling to the floor while putting on the guards.
Seeing the dazed look on Yuuri's face that made him look like he just blew chunks out the side of a roller coaster, Suzuki knew this wasn't the time for constructive criticism. As if Yuuri would even remember any of it. Instead, he offered the boy a bottle of water and a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him grounded. Yuuri took the bottle immediately, and greedily downed its contents after realizing just how thirsty he had become.

Before he could finish off the water, Yuuri just heard an emotionless yet steady call from over his shoulder.

"Yuuri. We should go".

A bit of life had returned to Yuuri's eyes. He nodded in affirmation before following the coach down the hall.

Unlike normally, they did not have to wait long before the scores were announced, but that was mostly because of how long it took for Yuuri to regain his bearings.

Yuuri Katsuki, Japan
Short Program: 66.50
Current Placement: 3rd

It took a moment before the meaning of those numbers hit Yuuri. He could hear loud applause shake the arena. It was nice since he had been too out of it to comprehend the audience's reaction to his program while on the ice. Even though he was currently in third, he still beat his previous personal best by over 3 whole points, and was less than 2 away from the current leader, Florent Amodio, who had 68.20. The only skater left was Seung Gil Lee, who had drawn the 8th slot. But no matter the Korean's score, Yuuri was still in a great place for tomorrow, especially considering the circumstances leading up to his short program.

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Victor balked as he begrudgingly made his way through the hallway, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. He knew that he was supposed to stay and watch the rest of the competition for that day, especially since there were 7 or 8 Russian skaters that were still scheduled to compete... but Victor's own short program performance had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He hadn't done poorly per-say, but his 74.55 wasn't even remotely close to his own personal best. It was barely even better than his shoddy performance at the Cup of Russia. And to make matters worse, Victor was sitting over 9 points away from the damn Japanese skater in first. Just the thought of losing another gold medal to Takahiko Kozuka sent an angry shiver down his spine.

The only small victory that Victor held was the fact he had at least beaten that smug American bastard, Johnny Weir.

Victor Nikiforov did not hate Johnny Weir — he mostly hated the idea of Johnny Weir. And his... overt personality. For his entire life, Victor had technique and precision drilled into his skating. Artistry and finesse were the things that would take him to the top. Skating was the one thing in his life that allowed him to be somebody other than himself.

But then there was Johnny Weir. That pompous asshole didn't know how to be anyone or anything but himself. He didn't start skating when he was 6 years old like all the Russian prodigies do. Johnny found skating way after he should have made his junior debut, and he still managed to make a name for himself in skating. His gaudy costumes and makeup choices made him stand out (albeit for the wrong reasons in Victor's eyes), and there were routines where he would just throw technique completely by the way side. Johnny Weir put himself and his own style in his skating over whatever the judges thought, and that made Victor seethe with a mixture of anger, jealousy and bitterness.

Still, any time that Victor could manage to edge the American off of the podium or out of the rankings, he felt a sort of vindictive pride in his own craft. No matter how much Victor disliked his skating, he still had to respect Weir as a competitor and as a skater. However as a person... just the thought of interacting with that flamboyant man made Victor's skin crawl.

Victor just wanted to wait in peace in the lobby, at least until the Junior Pairs skating, so he could leave. But no.

"Another black body suit, Victor? Really?" Victor knew that slightly-lisped American accent anywhere. The condescending question combined with the lithe hand fussing over the nebula-colored sash that draped over his shoulder made his blood boil.

He turned around to face the brunet who was only a few inches shorter than him, and saw a sheer, violet-purple glove attached to his own costume. Weir had an expression on his face that was too friendly to be considered a smirk, but too devious to be considered completely genuine.

"What do you want, Weir?" Victor managed to say without using too spiteful of a tone.

"Oh I just wanted to congratulate you on a good performance today! And then I got distracted by your..." He took a gratuitous pause to look up and down Victor's body. "Outfit. You know, after I retire, I would love to design a costume for you, Victor. I'm always a fan of the 'butt skirt' look, but you could do so much better."

The unwanted opinion grated heavily on Victor's inpatient ears. "If you manage to beat me, maybe I'll consider wearing something you made. But until then, I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself. You will need all the help you can get."

Johnny's smirk just grew at the comment. "Well, you better keep your promise then, because I don't plan on going down without a fight." He then leaned in to press a chaste kiss on Victor's cheek. "Davai" he whispered before heading back towards the stands.

Victor just stood there with a mixture of annoyance, disbelief and the exacerbation of a headache. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Victor got a glimpse of what could possibly be the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. However, before he could even get a second look, the vision in royal blue had disappeared into the vast expanse of the arena.It left Victor slightly confused and frustrated — but surprisingly, it wasn’t entirely the product of his encounter with Johnny Weir.

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Almost immediately after Yuuri had received his scores, Suzuki dragged him back to the hotel. His division hadn't finished until well after 9 p.m. The stress of the day combined with his overwhelming level of exhaustion had definitely caught up with him. It took almost all of Yuuri's power not to pass out after his adrenaline had run dry, and he could barely even remember making it back up to his room. Until, he was reaching over to turn off the blaring alarm clock that read 7:00 a.m.

The Junior Men's Free Skate competition was scheduled to begin at 3:25 p.m., so everything had to start a lot earlier than the day prior. Yuuri hadn't had very restful sleep that night, but actually being able to fall asleep was a way better place to be in than he was for his short program. He also didn't have to worry about Mari, Yuuko and Minako flying in on time, since they were already there. Plus, he wasn't dealing with a new costume for his Free Skate, and he had already performed on that ice the day before. Overall, other than the fact that it was the Grand Prix Finals, it wasn't supposed to be a terribly stressful day.

Yuuri's warm up was fairly uneventful. It honestly felt too short, since he was only able to do three run-throughs before the announcement was made that warm ups were over. Exhaustion still plagued Yuuri's body, along with some still-sore bruises from yesterday's falls, so he knew that he had not been able to really skate all-out. But overall, nothing too catastrophic had happened. He had been able to land all of his jumps without much error, which was practically unheard of for him, and he didn't yet feel the overwhelming rush of anxiety coursing through his body.

When Yuuri, Minako and Suzuki arrived at the arena, they didn't have too much time to spectate before Yuuri's group would go on, so he went straight to the locker room. It was odd, because as Yuuri changed into his fiery body suit, and began to brush back his hair into its normal coif, he still didn't feel nervous. He honestly just felt numb. It was a kind of unsettling feeling, since he didn't really know what to expect going into a competition like this, but Yuuri just decided to go with it and not dwell too much on the unfamiliar feeling.
He took one last look at himself in the full length mirror. Since he couldn't find anything wrong or out of place, Yuuri just began to pack his stuff up before heading back out into the arena. Unlike normally, when he would constantly check the time and the previous scores to see how long he had before he had to skate — or what score he needed to skate — Yuuri wasn't paying attention to any of it. Instead, he just took an almost too-relaxed seat on a bench in the hall with his coaches, and began to read over the letter he had received from Victor the day before. The neat handwriting and the gentle encouragement helped a calm smile find its way onto Yuuri's face.

Until the roar of an insatiable crowd brought him out of his thoughts. It was then that he looked up to see the scores of the previous skater light up the screen above the rink.

Michele Crispino, Italy
Short Program Score: 64.84
Free Skate Score: 119.75
Total Score: 184.6
Current Placement: 1st

A sharp intake of breath shocked Yuuri's system when he saw the numbers, and he felt his entire body begin to shake as he forgot to breathe. He didn’t even realize the small piece of paper had fallen from his hand.

'A 119.75?!? I've never even scored above a 114, so how am I supposed to beat that?! Much less be able to beat Michele AND Armin AND Florent who haven't even skated yet! How am I supposed to —'

Yuuri was brought out of his thoughts by a gentle and comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Minako with a knowing look on her face, as well as his letter in her hand. It was then that he realized a few tears had gathered in the corners of his eyes from his inability to breathe. Quickly, he stood up from where he was sitting, tried to rub the emotion from his face, and took the paper from Minako's hand.

Without thinking, he pressed a gentle kiss to the letter, before tucking it into his costume, like he normally did. However, he had not given thought to how many cameras wet hovering around him and the rest of the rink. Yuuri then gave a quick hug to each of his coaches, before trying to run to the ice.

Yuuri knew he was running tight on time before he could possibly get deductions for not starting his program on time. And he did not want that to be the reason he didn't medal, so he rushed as quickly as he could to the gate. However, Yuuri apparently didn't see the small step that raised the rink above the ground, and proceeded to trip on the difference in height in his haste. Luckily, quick reflexes to grab the edge of the door frame kept Yuuri from face planting onto the cold ice.

He quickly skated to center ice, trying to will the flush of embarrassment from his face, and trying to not dwell on the fact that he tripped on live international television. Yuuri circled a few times around the spot where he would be taking his opening pose. Then he crossed his right arm over his chest to touch his shoulder, and stuck his left toe pick into the ice to jut his knee out. Just like he had done probably thousands of times before. Just like he had done the previous day.

In his short program.

The realization made Yuuri's eyes shoot open, and he almost lost his balance in the panic. His heart rate skyrocketed. Indescribably flustered, Yuuri couldn't believe that he had almost tried to skate his short program again. He took a few more small swivels around his previous spot, before calmly (or as calmly as he could) extending his left arm like a bird wing towards the sky. Finishing the pose, he took another deep breath, and edged his right leg behind his left in a backwards lunge, and began a gentle lay back. Now, he was ready to skate.

"Sitting in 3rd place after the Short Program, we have Yuuri Katsuki of Japan, who will be skating to "The Firebird".

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Originally, the only reason Victor was even at the arena that early was to watch some of the members of Team Russia and his rinkmates skate. Or, more accurately, the ones he cared about. Out of the 13 other skaters (or pairs) that were there representing Russia, Victor really only cared about himself, two friends who ice danced together, and a junior skater named Ivan Bariev who had trained under Yakov for about 2 years.

Victor wasn't scheduled to skate until well after 8 p.m. that night, but he knew he wouldn't have to wait long after his own warm up to see Ivan skate, so he had stayed. If Victor could time it right, he could stay and watch Ivan's Long Program, and then dip out to grab a bite to eat before Oksana and Maxim were scheduled to perform their Free Dance. Since those two had finished in 2nd after their Original Dance, not only were they favored to medal, but they would be skating later. This gave Victor more time to relax and spectate before he actually had to focus.

Around 3:30, Victor had settled into his seat in the audience. He had missed the first two skaters, but he didn't know their names anyway and their scores didn't do much to whet his appetite. A Korean skater came and went; for his young appearance, he had very nice technical control over his skating. However, his performance felt like watching paint dry with how inexpressive he was. It wasn't until the young boy fell on a triple-double combination that any actual emotion even crossed his face. He obviously had quite a bit of potential, but it would take a lot of hard work for that boy to move much further up the score chart with his current repertoire and performance abilities.

Then, Victor heard Ivan Bariev's name come over the loud speakers, and he sat up at full attention to watch his rink mate. Ivan had managed to make the Junior Grand Prix Finals the year before, so he had been a favorite to make the podium at the beginning of the week, but had only placed 5th after the short program.

Ivan skated to an Italian piece that Victor had heard numerous times at the rink, and he knew it was a good fit for the younger skater, who was proud of his dual Russian and Italian heritage. But there was something... missing... There was nothing wrong with the Russian's skating in any way, but it almost left something to be desired. His movements weren't finished and fluid, and his jumps weren't exciting to watch. Nothing left Victor guessing, but nothing from that performance left him wanting more either.

Victor sighed as he watched the younger Russian finish his program, and skate off the ice to meet Yakov. The boy was talented, like most of the Russian delegates, but talent and technical skill wasn't what won medals. Ivan needed to put his heart on the ice and learn to love the sport, otherwise he would never succeed. When the scores came up on the screen, Victor wasn't really surprised when a 116 came up, but knew the scores would probably leave him off the podium with four more skaters left to go.

Notifications, theories and announcements lit up the screen of Victor's phone enough to drag his attention from the ice. For a few minutes, he became distracted enough to miss an entire skater's program before he had the decency to look up and see what time it was. It was almost 4 p.m., and Victor took that, as well as his rinkmate's performance being over as his cue to leave. Victor had only had some small snacks earlier in the day in between rehearsals, so his stomach was beginning to complain at its empty state.

The Russian found himself already down stairs and about to head out into the lobby before a familiar image flashed across a screen that he could see out of the corner of his eye. When Victor turned to look to see why it had caught his attention, his bright turquoise eyes widened as he saw literal fire on the ice. Victor haphazardly ran back up the steps to peer out over the ice.

'That's the skater I saw at the John Curry Memorial Cup —'

Victor's thoughts were interrupted as "Yuuri Katsuki of Japan" was introduced over the loud speaker in a few different languages. He took this as his cue to rush back to his seat, which now felt altogether too far away from the attention-grabbing skater taking the ice below. The younger skater seemed nervous and frantic, but the moment he extended his arm and craned his neck up towards the ceiling, Victor could practically see an exoskeleton of anxiety being shed right then and there.

Even if Victor hadn't already seen this program before, he would have recognized the distinctive notes of Igor Stravinsky's The Firebird Suite in only a few seconds. Immediately, Katsuki's change in demeanor as well as in the aura this new-and-improved routine emanated stirred something inside of Victor. Before, the routine had been mesmerizing; but now, it was captivating and entrancing.

The opening segment of the piece was soft and airy; Yuuri's step sequence took on an innocent and playful side to match the light-hearted flute solo. As the fiery skater glided around the rink, Victor could already see the differences. By waiting this long to start his jumps, it was obvious that they had adjusted the composition to make use of the point multipliers in the second half.

Then, almost as soon as the thought hit Victor's mind, the skater below landed a clean Triple Lutz - Triple Toe Loop combination, which was soon followed by a Triple Loop just a few moments after. The Loop wasn't nearly as clean as the previous combination, but the over-rotation could say something about the boy's stamina and power that would surely find a home in the senior division.

The next step sequence left Victor hanging off of the edge of his seat. Each kick, each extension, each layback made Victor jealous of the younger boy's flexibility. Even the most simple of twizzles seemed effervescent and perfect in this routine. Then, the amount of emotion and power that was portrayed by the Japanese skater as the music heightened left Victor breathless — and he knew the judges had to be feeling the same way.

A well-timed Triple Salchow ended what must have been a Level 4 sequence, only to be thrust into a spin combination. The boy's Flying Camel grew into quite possibly the most perfect Bielmann that Victor had ever seen. When he gracefully transitioned from his combination into an expansive, gliding arabesque, Victor began to question his tenuous hold on reality.

Right as the second half mark was reached, Victor knew the signs of a confident jump prep, and could tell that he would be in for a surprise. With a Double Axel, Triple Toe Loop and even another Double Toe Loop attached, Victor found his jaw falling open at its hinges. A triple jump combination was almost unheard of in the Junior level, not to mention in the second half. His shock and awe at the feat almost distracted him enough to where he barely had time to appreciate the actual performance that this young Yuuri Katsuki was giving.
Where Ivan had lacked, Yuuri excelled. He might not have been landing every jump perfectly, but he was fighting to be there. And his love and passion for skating was out for everyone to see, along with a longing that only intrigued Victor further.

The next jump sequence the boy attempted looked like it was meant to be a Triple Flip - Double Toe Loop, but Victor could see even from where he was sitting, that he took off on the outside edge. This "Flutz" obviously effected the skater, and the subsequent pressure to not mess up made it almost impossible to pull off the sequential Toe Loop. However, Yuuri still managed to land it with only touching one hand to the ice. Of course, he would be docked a few points in GOE, but the tenacity Victor saw would still result in a ridiculously high Performance Score.

Victor found himself smiling in his seat, almost buzzing in anticipation as he could hear the tell-tale build of the strings into his personal favorite section of the song. The emotions on Katsuki's face had changed, and Victor wasn't sure when. Where longing and innocence were present before, now there was a fire and passion burning so bright that Victor thought the ice would melt. A scissored split leap pulled Victor out of his thoughts and a small gasp from his mouth.

Each flick of his wrist, each small hair flip, and the way the flame-colored chiffon flowed off of his costume completely embodied the Firebird. Yuuri Katsuki was the Firebird. Victor then found himself entranced by a perfect arabesque as the boy below skated backwards. Or he was, until Victor realized that Yuuri used the arabesque as the prep for his Triple Lutz. To that, the Russian skater couldn't even try to keep his jaw shut.

Another small, but incredibly sharp step sequence left Victor's heart fluttering before a particularly long and sustained cello note coaxed the Japanese skater into a deep and almost sensual Ina Bauer.

Then, the tempo of the music abruptly sped up into a woodwind trill backed by heavy timpani and trumpet, and Victor saw what looked to be another prep.

'He couldn't seriously be...'

And a perfect Triple Axel.

At the landing, Victor immediately shot up from his seat and ran to the railing in front of him. Sitting back and watching was not nearly close enough to take in all this skater had to offer.

'Over three and a half minutes into this boy's program — as a Junior — and he pulls out a Triple Axel as his final jump?! What else is this Yuuri Katsuki capable of?!'

Without even a moment's hesitation, Yuuri transitioned from his Axel into a rapid Layback Spin with his arms curved up and around his own body. Those perfect, curved arms then reached around to grab the blade of his skate, and coaxed his leg back into a perfect, Bielmann for a few moments, before bringing his body back into a Layback Spin.

With the hit of a gong, Yuuri flew out of the combination and flicked his arms out to mimic wings. If anyone had been asking, Victor could have sworn that he saw fire leave the boys finger tips before he skated back to center ice, for presumably the finale.

A gentle Camel Spin began to rapidly speed up as Yuuri brought his body down into a Sit Spin. Even in the Sit Spin, his leg was fully extended and it was a perfect example of his control and flexibility. Then, he grabbed it and pulled his own posture up into a spinning forward extension. A small jump into a Flying Sit Spin signaled another tempo change before a One-Foot Upright Spin grew into a Scratch Spin that was almost too fast for the naked eye to track.

With one last crescendo of the music, Yuuri popped out of the Scratch Spin, dug his back toe pick into the ice, and laid back with both arms outstretched. The final pose simultaneously made Yuuri look like a bird that had literal flames emanating off of him, as well as the most open and inviting pair of arms that Victor would have given anything to surround himself in.
Before he could realize it, or even think about what he was doing, Victor found himself applauding. Not the small, obligatory, meaningless clapping that all performers do to save face. No, Victor was actually clapping and applauding at an amazing performance that he had been lucky enough to witness. His palms began to sting before he could even wipe the genuine smile off of his face; but even then, that Firebird had left him feeling some kind of way, and Victor knew that smile wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Victor didn't know what it was about this boy, but something about him was fascinating. If Victor had anything to say about it, he was not going to leave Korea before he found Yuuri Katsuki, and could congratulate him on a job well done...

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As Yuuri hit his final pose, he could already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He held his arms back, and stayed in the shallow lay back for as long as he possibly could (which in all honestly, was probably only about 10 seconds) before he broke. In one swift movement, his outstretched arms found themselves covering his own face as tears began to stream. Yuuri collapsed in on himself, barely managing to stay standing on the ice as he was overcome with emotion.

Yuuri wasn't crying in disappointment because his program wasn't "perfect" — he had never expected to skate a perfect program. No, he was crying because he finally had achieved his dream of skating in the Grand Prix Final. For so long, Yuuri had almost given up the thought of ever competing at this level. He thought that some dime-a-dozen skater like him would never be able to climb the ranks necessary to make it. He thought that there was no way his anxiety was going to give him this one accomplishment. But he really did it.

He stood there like that for a solid minute, before he became aware of the roaring crowd, and began to skate off the ice. Even through the still-streaming tears, perhaps the biggest grin to ever plaster itself on Yuuri Katsuki's face was still lighting up the arena. Yuuri didn't even bother to look and see what had been thrown onto the ice, or he wasn't aware of his surroundings at all. He just needed to get to his coaches.

As soon as he was off the ice, Yuuri practically jumped into Minako-sensei's arms. Suzuki was already waiting for the two of them in the Kiss and Cry, but Yuuri didn't mind because this might be the last time he got to spend a moment like this with Minako before he left for college. After a few moments of hugging, Minako finally extradited herself from Yuuri's grasp, and managed to lead him through the hallway to the Kiss and Cry.

Sitting in the Kiss and Cry in between Suzuki and Minako felt like he was trapped under water – like he was a rare fish in an over-populated aquarium, and he had people analyzing his every movement under a thick pane of glass. Yuuri was aware of everything going on — in theory — and he could hear and see everything, but his mind was so fuzzy.

He nodded and made small affirmations when prompted, knowing that all of the cameras in the arena were focused on him. But even though he was ready to be done and hear the scores, everything felt distant. Similar to the feeling when you half-unplug a pair of earbuds from a music player, and suddenly everything is muffled and the individual sounds are indistinguishable. Where you can still understand everything, but it all feels off and drowned in static. Yuuri knew this was just his level of exhaustion combining with his ever-present anxiety, but it was still disconcerting.

It wasn't until Yuuri felt hands on either shoulder that he knew it was time. The silence which permeated the entire rink almost made Yuuri miss the moment his scores were announced. When he finally saw them, a sharp ringing in his ears didn't let him hear the roar of the crowd.

118.4

The high score made a small smile appear on Yuuri's face, but it quickly deflated. 118.4 was a personal best, so Yuuri should have been happy. It was higher than he had ever scored before by almost 4 points... but he still wasn't able to beat Michele Crispino... If Yuuri was in second place now, there was almost no chance he would be able to stand on the podium with both Armin Mahbanoozadeh and Florent Amodio still having to skate.

But that's when his ears finally cleared, and Yuuri was overwhelmed by the loudest cheering he had ever heard. He also became acutely aware that Minako was yelling something beside him.

"—uuri! Yuuri! You did it! You —"

At that, Yuuri just looked up at her, still happy, but slightly confused. "W-what?"

Minako just grabbed Yuuri's shoulders, turned him back towards the screen, and pointed. "Look, Yuuri!" And he did.

Yuuri had to squint to make sure his eyes weren't making him see things, but as soon as the full display came in to focus, his eyes widened comically.

Yuuri Katsuki, Japan
Short Program: 66.50
Free Skate: 118.4
Total Score: 184.9
Current Placement: 1st

The air dramatically left his body has Yuuri felt tears well back up in his eyes.

He had beaten Michele Crispino by .3 points.

Yuuri turned back go Minako and Suzuki, and finally found some words.
"Does that mean I —"

His coaches both interrupted him with a giant hug, and the tears resume their steady stream down Yuuri's cheeks.

"You have a guaranteed spot on the podium!"

"You just earned yourself a medal at the Grand Prix Finals, Yuuri!"

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After the last two skaters finished their programs and received their scores, Yuuri knew he would not get gold or silver. Both the American and French skaters were so clean in their movements, and both told a story with their programs. Plus, Yuuri couldn't really complain about bronze after placing 15 points behind the French gold medalist, and 9 behind the American.

But it didn't take long for all the scores to be tallied and for Yuuri to get ushered backstage once again in preparation for the medal ceremony — and Yuuri was freaking out. As he passed by the ice, he could already see a thin red carpet being rolled out that led up to a large podium decorated like a mirror ball. There were young girls dressed in all black who were carrying various bouquets and small pillows that in no time would surely hold three medals. That's when Yuuri saw the "3" where he would be standing in just a few short minutes.

Of course, Yuuri had won medals before — but never at an international championship, and he had only started getting medals at ISU events this season. This was an entirely different ball game compared to regional championships, or even nationals. He had seen medal ceremonies on TV and on live streams, but that wasn't the same as being in one. Luckily, as the bronze medalist, he would be able to watch the other two skaters skate out before him. Then, the three skaters were ushered to the rink side before being prompted to take their places.

First, the French skater, Florent Amodio, swiftly skated across the ice with ease and confidence, as if taking his bows as a Junior gold medalist was the most natural thing in the world. He stopped in center ice before lifting both hands dramatically and taking his bow. Then, Florent turned to each side of the audience as if to thank them for their support, and bowed towards each of them. After those few moments, he nonchalantly skated back to the podium, where he took his rightful place on top. Two young girls holding flowers and a medal pillow skated close to the podium. There, the ISU President, Ottavio Cinquanta, who would be presenting the medals, was standing on the carpet in quiet and almost regal anticipation.

When Cinquanta approached the podium, Florent ducked his head down as his gold medal was placed around his neck. A short but solid handshake was exchanged between the two before a bouquet was placed in his arms. Then, Armin shot out of the gate and onto the Ice for his moment in the spotlight.

Usually, if something was choreographed and Yuuri had practiced it, he could usually so something like this fairly easily. But nobody told him what to do — they just assumed he would know. So, he began to panic.

Until he felt a gentle push on his upper back, which was the coordinator telling him to go. He hadn't even realized that both Florent and Armin had already finished.

Yuuri took a deep breath and a leap of faith, hoping he wouldn't make a fool of himself. The applause from the roaring crowd was intense, but the only sound he was focusing on was the glide of his skated on the ice as he made his way to center ice. When Yuuri stopped on the ISU logo, he stood as straight as he could manage as he looked out into the audience with the spotlight on him. Whether it was from his overwhelmed senses or his overwhelmed emotions, small tears left the corners of his eyes as he forced himself into a deep bow. Yuuri repeated the action 3 more times towards each side before finally taking in the whole scene. He was really there, with the spotlight on him, at the medal ceremony of the Junior Grand Prix Finals.

After a few moments, Yuuri skated over to the podium. He then stopped in front of both of the other skaters' spots on the podium, and graciously shook their hands.

Then, as Yuuri stepped onto his 3rd place spot, everything went wrong. Yuuri was not used to stepping up that high in skates, and his blade didn't land entirely on the podium — causing him to slip off. Somehow, Yuuri managed to not completely fall on his butt, but he did fall on his ego. It was only a small slip, and he didn't get hurt, but Yuuri's face was entirely red in embarrassment from having tripped on live international television. Again.

When Yuuri finally got onto his platform, the chairman came over towards him, and gestured for him to bend. Yuuri did as such, and felt the ribbon graze bits of his hair before it finally settled on his neck. As President Cinquanta let the medal fall onto his chest, Yuuri flinched because he hadn't realized it would be so heavy. He had worn various other medals before, but none had been as weighty — both in mass and emotional meaning.

Yuuri let a smile overtake his face as he shook the chairman's hand. He bowed in reverence as was ingrained in his culture, before receiving a small bouquet of flowers. After a moment, the whole stadium stood for the playing of the French national anthem, as it was customary for the gold medalist's national anthem to play. While Yuuri was of course overwhelmed and excited and grateful, he was lost in thought.

'Someday, I want to be on top of that podium. I want to hear the Japanese national anthem, and I want to be the reason that it is playing.'

The rest of the ceremony was fairly standard, with lots of awkward pictures of all of the medalists. Every so often, Yuuri would look out of the corner of his eye towards the other two for guidance on which poses to do, but overall it wasn't very high pressure.

Finally, the cameras stopped flashing and Yuuri saw the other two step down and begin skating. He was confused for a second, but then realized it was their victory lap, and joined them. The feeling of the ice beneath his skates, the medal hanging around his neck, all eyes on him and the applause for him and his accomplishments allowed a genuine and giddy smile to find its way onto Yuuri's face. For what seemed like the first time that weekend, Yuuri felt genuinely happy and at peace — without his anxiety hanging over him like a dark cloud.

Seeing all of the Japanese flags held up in the audience made his heart beat — not from anxiety for once — but from excitement. And it wasn't enough. Yuuri closed his eyes, and knew that he would crave this feeling for the rest of his skating career — because his dream came true — and now he had a new dream to chase.

As he opened his eyes, he knew he was fairly far behind the other two skaters but he didn't care because he was taking his time. Then, a young boy, probably no older than 10, caught his eye along the edge of the rink in the front row. He was holding a small stuffed dog over the barrier, and it was wearing a small Japanese flag as a cape.

Yuuri skated over to the boy. He stopped for a second to bow, and accept the toy from him. The little boy's face lit up, and Yuuri could see a small yaeba point out from his smile.
"Arigato!" Yuuri said to him, as the boy's light brown eyes began to sparkle. Just as Yuuri was about to skate away, the boy yelled out a response.

"I want to be just like you when I grow up, Katsuki-senpai!! Ganbatte!!!" His voice was surprisingly loud, considering the boy's small stature along with the cacophony of sound throughout the stadium. But his words made Yuuri's heart soar, even as he continued the victory lap.

Yuuri held the toy up, and let the tiny Japanese flag wave behind him as he finished the lap, while trying to catch up to the other two. Then as he exited the rink, he hugged the small poodle plush tightly to his chest before putting it down along with his flowers. All of these trinkets were special to him, but there were some other things that were even more so.

The medal that hung almost directly over his heart just felt right; Yuuri gently traced his hand over the raised logo on it, before reaching underneath his costume. After a few failed attempts — thwarted by the thick ribbon around his neck — Yuuri pulled out the letter, and brought it to his lips before doing the same with his medal. What he didn't realize though was that there were still cameras on him.

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(Sadly) after Yuuris skate, Victor actually did leave to go eat and change. He still wanted to be back by 6-7 p.m. to see his friends in their ice dancing free dance. Plus he was scheduled to skate around 8:30, so he had to be back. But he also really needed to eat actual food and change.

As much as it pained him not to watch the Junior Men's medal ceremony, he had been able to get live updates on his phone. And there was an absolutely adorable picture of Yuuri Katsuki (oh, and the other two medalists) hugging atop the podium as the cover photo of an article. Victor felt a strange sense of pride when he saw that the Japanese boy had medalled; he wasn't sure exactly why, but he wasn't complaining. The boy deserved it — Victor hadn't seen the other two medallists, but he knew that Katsuki boy deserved the medal around his neck.

When Victor got back to the arena, he had his normal skating bag with him. With his normal supplies: things to touch up hair, deodorant, his letter from his secret admirer... and everything he needed for competitions.

But Yakov had told Victor that at least in his "Jupiter" costume, he could not hide "the stupid letter" in his costume since it was embroidered and stoned mesh, and was see-through. Yakov thought it was already bad enough that one of his nipples was visible through it.
Victor could have been offended at the comment, but he decided to not let his ego get in the way of his skating or his skater-coach relationship. He sighed, and looked at the letter one last time, before putting it back in his skating bag. Then, he heard the announcement for him to line up in the waiting area for his Free Skate.

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After a small victory dinner, and after putting his medal away in the official box he had received, Yuuri went back to the arena with Yuuko while Mari and Minako and Suzuki went out for a drink.

He was buzzing with excitement because he didn't get to watch the Senior Men yesterday, AND because he had gotten back in time to see his two Japanese Skating Federation teammates compete for the Senior Women's singles skate.

Obviously, the two friends held up their Japanese flags, and screamed. Not only because the stress had left his body after his own competition was over, but because they wanted more than anything than for there to be more Japanese medalists.

When Mao Asada took the ice, Yuuko and Yuuri looked at each other, because they KNEW something was different. They weren't surprised when they saw her scores, or that she had clenched gold. But it wasn't until Yuuri heard the Japanese national anthem that he really felt it. He was so proud — and his new-found goal was even further cemented.

After the women, Yuuri got to see Chris skate in person for the first time at the senior level. And WOW, his skate to "Allegro Vivo Appassionato" was different than anything he had ever seen before.

Chris really had a hold on his adult sexuality, and it showed on the ice. Dressed in a crimson red skating suit with some small stones along the sleeves, as well as on the lapels and the tails, he truly looked like he had earned that spot on the senior ice. His jumps might not have yet been at the level of the other skaters, but he exuded passion — almost like he was dancing a Paso Doblé mixed with a Rumba with an invisible partner. Or as if the audience was his partner.

Somehow during the skate, Yuuri hadn't realized that Minako had snuck back into the arena behind them, until Chris hit his final pose, and she started screaming and threw a few roses onto the ice. After she calmed down, she turned back to the pair behind her.

"Who was THAT?!?!?! I think I am in LOVE. Either that, or that Appassionato just killed me, and I am now in heaven."

Yuuri laughed a little awkwardly, then replied. "That's Christophe Giacometti... he competed with me until last year in Juniors... you've definitely seen him before Minako-sensei..."

"WHAAATTTTT?!?!?!?!? Well trust me when I say that THAT was not the same skater out there. Though I highly doubt the judges would have appreciated something like THAT at the junior level..."

"I bet you're right, Minako-sensei..."

They all laughed a little before watching Johnny Weir skate his free program. He was wearing a black and red off-the-shoulder outfit that had a red cross emblazoned across his left pectoral. This program was a lot cleaner than his short, and that worried Yuuri because even though he appreciated Johnny's skating, he wanted both Takahiko Kozuka, and of course Victor, to do well. And neither had skated yet.

As Weir finished his program, "Notre Dame de Paris", and headed off of the ice, Yuuri felt his whole body tense. He was finally going to see Victor Nikiforov skate. In person.

Yuuko grabbed onto his shoulders in excitement and started squealing when she saw Victor appear on the jumbotron — the camera on him even though he was still in the hallway.
Yuuri gulped, and his heart started rapidly trying to punch its way out of his chest. He was somehow even more nervous than he had been when he was out on the ice.

He didn't even pay attention to Weir's scores, because his entire focus was on Victor.

"Skating his program, 'Jupiter: The Bringer of Jollity', Victor Nikiforov of Russia."

Yuuri felt an odd pang in his chest as he couldn't see any trace of his letter anywhere underneath the mesh of his costume. (And he was looking HARD. Though not necessarily at that. It could have had something to do with the barely obscured left nipple, or Victor's navel that was visible, or the shadows and grooves of his abs that conveniently weren't covered by the embroidery of his costume)... but Yuuri thought nothing of it.

By the time Victor started skating, Yuuri would have literally fallen off his seat if he had even leaned another centimeter forward, but he couldn't help himself. He was seeing his idol: skating on the same ice he had skated on approximately 4 hours prior — and only about 10 rows in front of him.

Yuuri's heart kept wanting to explode out of his chest. But he could swear that he tasted bile as he saw Victor's right blade wobble on the landing of what was normally a Quad Toe Loop - Single Loop - Triple Salchow combination. Instead, it probably hadn't even had enough rotations on the quad to count before he landed harshly on the ice.

Without even realizing it, Yuuris hands had covered his mouth, and if the silver haired man hadn't gotten up as quickly as he did, Yuuri probably would have started crying.

The small white scuffs on the knee and side of his thighs on his tight black velveteen pants were small, yet constant reminders that his idol was human. A human who now might not make the podium...

The whole skate, Yuuri was on the edge of his seat — though not in excitement, as he had anticipated. Worry, anxiety and empathetic frustration ran through Yuuri's veins and brain at every landing, every spin, and every time Yuuri could almost feel Victor's turquoise eyes burning into his own.

Victor's normal, effortless skating now seemed pained. His usual, confident and airy expression seemed like he was fighting to even remain standing.

Finally, at the last spin combination, Yuuri found himself holding his breath. Something was different about these spins; it wasn't just the labored rhythm. It wasn't just that Victor seemed to have taken out the Half-Bielmann he normally did, or that his Attitude Spin was shaky... It was when Victor fumbled out of his last transition that Yuuri realized it: Victor was doing all of his spins on his left as opposed to his right.

Even as Victor hit his final pose, with his arms shot toward the sky, Yuuri felt his heart flip with dozens of unrecognizable and interchangeable emotions. However, Yuuri could see on Victors face that instead of a triumphant grin... sweat, pain and a desperate expression were visible for the world to see.

(You can click the link if you want, since the picture is very big)

Yuuri's thoughts went wild, but he never once let his eyes leave the Russian skater.

'Even without the triple combo, he landed all of his other jumps... and his step sequence was a level 4... so his technical points can't be that bad...'

He was brought out of his thoughts by Yuuko. "Victor truly is amazing... even after that fall he still left the audience practically speechless. That was such an emotional performance. I really hope he medals."

Their conversation was interrupted by shouts of shock and horror that spread throughout the arena. Victor had fallen after he had hit his final pose, seemingly as if his right hip gave out. He was lying on the ice, curled in on himself, clutching at the affected hip.

When one of the cameras zoomed in, even through his black velveteen pants, it was obvious that something was wrong. Victor's teeth were clenched in pain, and his face was red and flushed.

Yuuri didn't even realize he was crying until he felt a tear roll into his hand. He couldn't believe that what had originally been the best day of his life, has turned into this: watching his idol fall injured on an international stage, after he pushed through to finish his program despite whatever may have happened.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, two medics dressed in neon uniforms with the ISU logo on them came out onto the ice. There, they helped Victor back to his feet, and supported him on both sides as he limped his way off of the ice.

Victor did not go to the Kiss and Cry, and was presumably taken to a medic tent or room. So when his scores were announced, the only person visible on the camera footage was an older looking man in a trench coat and Fedora. This was probably Victor's coach; while the man looked stoic, something about his posture and facial expression still managed to betray his worried thoughts about his skater.

Victor Nikiforov, Russia
Free Skate: 140.19
Short Program: 74.55
Total Score: 214.74
Current Place: 2nd

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Frustration.
Pain.
Annoyance.
More pain.
'Ow, god that hurts.'

That was all Victor Nikiforov felt as he was guided into the make-shift medic tent. He still managed to keep a relatively calm and emotionless face all the way there, or at least until the cameras were out of his face.

He had felt his hip pop on that damn under-rotated Quad Toe Loop. Victor thought nothing of it, and kept going, more annoyed at himself for falling than anything else. But as his routine went on, the burning sensation in his hip kept growing. Growing to where even stepping out of a spin with too much weight on it set a shock wave of pain through his body. By the second half of his program Victor had just decided to change all of his major footwork and spins onto the left. Of course, he had never practiced any of it that way, but it seemed like a better idea than to just give up and fall again.

Somehow, he had managed to land the rest of his jumps, thank god for one-foot landings. But by the end of his last spin sequence and his pose, Victor was fighting back tears. Usually, if he had gotten a kink in his leg from a bad fall, it would have worked itself out by then — but this was wrong.

The next step he took ended up being the tipping point — and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground and in the worst pain of his life.

It turned out that he had dislocated his hip, which was normally very painful. But continuing to skate on it, combined with his fall, had chipped part of his bone and had caused minor fractures along his femur. It wasn't bad enough to require surgery, but a band-aid wasn't going to fix it like new.

The athletic trainers wrapped his hip in bandages after they realigned the bone in the socket (and boy, was THAT a pleasant experience) and gave him ice to hold over the swollen area. Kind of ironic, really, since ice was what caused his injury. Finally, after administering some pain medication, and assigning a doctor's recommendation, they gave Victor a pair of crutches and helped him out.

Victor felt ridiculous. Not only was he in pain, but he was humiliated after having ruined his chances at medalling, and now he had to use crutches while still dressed in his free skate costume.

Yakov waited for him outside of the tent.No words were exchanged between them, just a look of understanding and sympathy. They didn't even discuss his own scores, and just began slowly making their way back into the arena to watch the rest of the competition.

He wasn't surprised to see that a US skater had edged him out of 2nd place. But seeing the scores up on the screen was honestly shocking, since he had not expected to score anywhere near that high.

Victor was surprised when he saw the Japanese man who was skating last fall twice. He even downgraded a Triple Axel to a double, and touched down on another jump. But that surprise allowed Victor to get his hopes up. Except he still should have known.

Even though Takahiko Kozuka fell apart on his long program, he still managed to score .60 higher than Victor on his Long Program. This, combined with his phenomenal Short Program, still landed the Japanese man a silver medal.

And it pushed Victor Nikiforov into 4th place, with nothing. Nothing but a pain in his hip, and a bitter taste in his mouth.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: "You're The One That I Want" 

That night was unforgiving to Victor. 

While he didn't have to spend the night in the hospital, Victor still had to spend the night with his pain and with his unrelenting thoughts. The uncomfortable wrappings, the useless pads and the awkward alternating of heat and ice that begun to numb the throbbing in his hip did nothing to dull the deprecation and disdain that plagued his dreams. 

When morning finally broke and the blaring alarm on his phone buzzed, Victor begrudgingly began the day. He might have slept like shit, and he might have felt like shit, and he might have looked like shit... but god damn it, Victor Nikiforov would rather break both hips and leave the bloody remains on the ice than give any tabloids and reporters something to talk about other than his skating. 

Well, it's not like there would be much more skating to talk about for a while... 

The exhibitions began at noon with the Juniors, but since he could not use "staying over-night in a Korean hospital" as an excuse, he was still expected to attend as a show of good sportsmanship. 

Victor finally managed to get to the arena (read as: dragged to the arena by Yakov) around 1 p.m. while looking at least slightly presentable. It's not like he was going to be skating himself, so he didn't have to come in costume or anything... but he was still scheduled to be interviewed, which meant that he couldn't look like he didn't sleep at all the night before. 

So far, the only positive that came from his injury, was the fact that he could sequester himself in the audience under the pretense of "needing more space". This meant that he could stay far enough away from the general populous to avoid the rabid fans. Plus, he could bury his attention into his phone instead of the performances without tarnishing his reputation. 

Normally Victor would revel in the chance to watch other skaters — to learn from them, gain inspiration, or at least see what the next generation had in store. But right now, it was much too painful. 

Even though they had arrived in time for the Junior Pairs exhibitions, which had Russian Gold and Bronze medalists, the show still held no interest to Victor. While Victor loved representing his country, and knowing that the RSF would still be coming home with a fairly large quantity of medals, he hated watching them skate. Especially the Juniors. 

Over the past decade, Russian skating had become monotonous and cookie cutter. All of the top coaches started ingraining technique and power into every up-and-coming skater, to where there almost wasn't any originality or personality in any routine. There was no real skating anymore — just jumps and spins. 

Sadly, these exhibitions were no exception. Especially at the Junior level, most of the skaters were at the mercy of their coaches and the desire to maintain a pristine image. Victor honestly hadn't enjoyed watching any other Russian's exhibition since Plushenko retired. And nothing could ever live up to "Sex Bomb". 

In all honesty, Victor tuned out the entire pairs section. He instead used the time to scroll through the unending notifications and twitter mentions that he woke up to that morning. They were all only slight variations on the same sympathy message, or tagged articles and videos of his performances — none of which he wanted to read — but he definitely wanted to clear out. 

The unyielding stream on his social media feeds sufficiently distracted Victor until a familiar name being announced pulled him out of his trance. 

"— Yuuri Katsuki!" 

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Yuuri was scared shitless. 

Its not like the past two days, where he was being judged on an international stage, oh no. At least for his short and long programs he had finished them months in advance, and had probably practiced them at least a thousand times each. 

Today's exhibition was a completely different task. Yuuri and Minako-sensei had only finished the choreography a few days before they flew out to Korea, and because of the greater importance that was placed on his actual competitive programs... he had run through it in its entirety maybe five times. 

But what was most nerve-wracking wasn't the fact that he was going to be skating as a medalist. It wasn't the fact that he had only gotten his costume together while they were in Korea. No, the thing they was freaking Yuuri out the most was that he was dedicating his exhibition to Victor. In front of Victor. 

Yuuri had been struggling with finding a theme or any inspiration whatsoever for his exhibition piece from the minute that Suzuki mentioned he could skate one. He racked his mind trying to think if there were any popular songs that he could just have fun with, or if there were any songs he could do from a movie or at least something. That led to an unintentional American movie marathon, where Yuuri researched all of his favorite cheesy, movie musicals and big blockbusters that originally enthralled Yuuri with the idea of being able to go to America. 

Some of the movies were stupid and cheesy like High School Musical, while others were classics like Dirty Dancing... but one of his favorites had to be Grease. Just the idea that such a love story could happen with people who were complete opposites, and only happened to meet through crazy circumstances made Yuuri long for his own happy ending. 

That's when he felt the need to re-watch Victor's own exhibition ten or twenty times. What he wouldn't give to have the courage to tell Victor that it was him who had written those letters, and that he was the one that he wanted. 

And it clicked. 

The whole idea terrified Yuuri, but when it popped into his head, there was absolutely no way that urge would ever be satisfied until Yuuri skated a response. It was a gruelling process — trying to find the perfect song, trying to figure out which emotions he was trying to convey to Victor, and trying to not make a fool of himself. 

Minako-sensei helped him out his jumbled feelings into tangible choreography, and began teaching him different ways to move his body to properly emote what he wanted to. 

The cover he chose for his music reimagined the fun and upbeat song into an almost unnerving, minor key that oozed power and dripped with need. It was difficult, but it was the perfect response to Victor's own exhibition. 

Getting ready for this performance was almost as unnerving as the thought of actually skating it. The black skating suit he borrowed from one of his rinkmates fit almost perfectly, but left Yuuri feeling exposed. It was supposed to emulate formal attire, but be more suited for skating; however the tight and thin material of the pants combined with the seductively loose collared shirt made Yuuri want to immediately pull on his Team Japan jacket.

But when he was ready, Minako assured him that he looked great. She then brushed and gelled his hair back into the signature coif, and gently lined Yuuri's eyes with dark liner. Minako finished with a dusting of a bit of powder over his cheeks, that when Yuuri finally opened his eyes, saw was a bit of blush and shimmer to give his bone structure a bit of a pop.

The reflection in the mirror honestly made Yuuri blush because he could hardly recognize himself. It's not as if a tiny dab of makeup and hair gel could make him look that different, but now Yuuri definitely looked like the mature skater he had longed to be. 

"Well, if Victor doesn't get the message, he will sure wish that this skate is for him." 

Minako's joke just proceeded to make Yuuri turn an even darker shade of crimson. 

As Yuuri laced up his boots, his mind drifted to the introduction he had written for the announcer to read before he took the ice. He couldn't help but panic that it was way too obvious and simultaneously too vague. 

But as he was ushered out onto the ringside, Yuuri knew it didn't matter. Either way, Yuuri was going to show the world what he wanted. 

"Your Junior Grand Prix Final Bronze Medalist, representing Japan: Yuuri Katsuki!" 

Yuuri took a deep breath to try and calm his racing heart before he cautiously stepped onto the ice. 

"Yuuri is skating this exhibition as a thank you to all those who have supported him through his journey, and —"

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 "— is dedicated to the one who not only inspired him to skate, but who continues to inspire him every day." 

The second Victor heard the name being announced, he practically threw his phone underneath the seat so he could give the Japanese medallist his full attention. And full attention did he have — this boy, no this man in that ice was a completely different person than the firework that graced that stage the day before. While that fire was graceful, and gentle yet powerful in performance, this new skater left Victor burning in his seat. Even with the clean cut and formal lines of his costume and loose collared shirt that would usually look stiff and structured, instead looked casual and almost effortlessly sexy with the minimalistic black suspenders and gloves and —

'Wait, what?' 

Victor shook his head as he realized that not only would he miss the performance entirely if he let himself get too distracted, but that the skater he was ogling was a JUNIOR SKATER. He took another deep breath to try and steady himself as the man on the ice struck his opening pose. The subtle pop of his knee, the causal way his arms draped over his sides, and the stark profile of his face that glanced over his shoulder left Victor gripping onto his seat as if it was his only hold on reality. 

When the first note of the song hit, something looked like it snapped inside of Yuuri; like he was a fierce predator luring in his prey why just his eyes and his skating. 

This choreography was different — mature and secretly seductive. Unlike the overt sexual of Chris' skating, every one of Yuuri Katsuki's movements was sensual and deliberate — each hair flip, wrist flick and teasing drag of his own hands over his body. But something in his facial expression was almost... innocent and experimental. As if he was trying to skate for only one person in the world; but what he didn't realize is that it was making every member of the audience long to be that one person.

After a slight dramatic pause in the dark and looming instrumental, the lyrics and the real skating started. It only took Victor a few lines of the song to recognize that it was a cover of "You're the one that I want" from the American musical, Grease. 

But what really made Victor loose all control and composure, was when Yuuri practically slid down into the middle splits while skating in a wide arc, before shifting his weight onto his hip. He then spun out for a second, before pausing in a truly electrifying pose with his body laid out on the ice and inviting him in. 

Yuuri then pushed himself back on to his skates and quickly gained momentum to fuel a killer tour-jete into a sustained arabesque that hit the peak in the music perfectly while showcasing the boy's obvious training in ballet.

His next Ina Bauer nearly left Victor with heart palpitations, but boy, was Victor glad he hadn't fainted or died yet. As Yuuri came out of the deep back bend, he grabbed for his own heart before looking straight out into the audience on the words "And my heart is set on you"  and fluidly pointed directly at Victor — or so it felt like. But as Victor's breath hitched, he could have sworn that he actually locked eyes with the skater for a split-second — and that a small twitch of a smile briefly appeared on his face. 

This somehow distracted Victor from even realizing that was his prep, which turned into a flawless Triple Axel that was again timed perfectly. A small, yet confident smile that was obviously in pride at his own jump overtook his expression for the next choreographic sequence before pulling out a Triple Flip. 

Now, the smile grew even bigger as the excitement at his own performance begin to seep into his character. To Victor, that made him even more endearing and alluring. Because not only was he performing, but he was enjoying putting on the show. With a shift in the music, the pace of his skating slowed as he gracefully transitioned into a camel spin, before growing it into a sit spin. Yuuri then pulled his body back up into a deep lay back as his pace hastened, and then suddenly popped out into another pose. 

This post contrasted deeply with the previous skating, as his arms were wrapped tightly around his body as if he was trying to hide within himself. However, the second he turned his back up toward the audience, Victor could see the hunger in his eyes which were dark and lined as if to draw people into them. Instead of his earlier confusion on his characterization, Victor realized that Yuuri was trying to hide from everyone except for the one he wanted to show himself to.

The steps in choreography simultaneously reminded Victor of Lambiel and other time-honored skaters, but was also distinctly Yuuri Katsuki. All of it made it impossible for Victor to take his eyes off of Yuuri for even one second.

A long prep practically left Victor vibrating as he was (im)patiently awaiting the next jump. But a loud gasp escaped from be Russian as Yuuri did not only one, not two, but three jumps — a Triple Toe-Half Loop-Double Salchow. The salchow was a little wobbly, but he still did a triple combination in his exhibition, as a junior, which left Victor speechless. 

At the next peak in music, Yuuri did a perfect 180° split leap and immediately skated off into some twizzles on the landing. Then, Yuuri skid, sending ice everywhere while changing direction and skating completely open on his edges. Victor could tell that this choreography was him symbolically giving his everything to whoever this phenomenal skate was dedicated to.

Just like that, on the words "and my heart is set on you", Yuuri took a page from Johnny Weir's book and dove forward onto his knees with his back arched high, and his gloves hands just grazing the ice. And his heart was not the only thing Victor was set on. 

Somehow from that position, Yuuri hurled himself onto one knee. As he slid forward on the ice and edged closer to the audience, Yuuri held up a finger gun; he cocked and shot it off on the perfect click. The motion made Victor's own heart beat so hard that he literally had to grasp at his own chest to make sure his heart hadn't escaped or stopped from overuse. 

After a few breaths and some minimal choreography that went with the decresendo of the music, Yuuri began a final spin combination with a flying camel. These gentle spins turned into an attitude. Which Yuuri took advantage of to grab his blade, and brought it into a sinuous bielman. 

Finally, as the final notes of "you're all that I need" rang through the arena, Yuuri hit his final pose. But instead of a commanding finish, he was left with a vulnerable and raw expression on his face that was asking someone to grab onto his outstretched hand and never let go. 

Victor was amazed, in awe, emotionally drained and even a little frustrated. But even if it was just for today, he found a new reason to put his heart and soul into skating. 

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It took an eternity for everything to come back into focus and for Yuuri to regain the ability to breathe. When he did, and he finally registered the decibel-shattering applause that echoed through the arena, Yuuri realized what he had just accomplished.

He performed at the Junior Grand Prix Final Exhibition as a bronze medalists he performed one hell of an exhibition that he dedicated to Victor, for Victor, and he could have sworn that he had somehow even seen Victor watching him — even though he knew it was just his imagination. But even that feeling of Victor watching him gave Yuuri a boost and a drive that he had never felt before when he had ever skated; and he couldn't wait to move up to seniors and prove himself once again on the same level as Victor.

After Yuuri got off of the ice, he quickly changed back into his Team Japan tracksuit, which felt so good to wear not only after he had earned his place on the team but after he had earned his place on the podium. Then, he met back up with Minako, Suzuki and everyone who had made the trip to Korea, before they all went back into the arena to watch the rest of the show. 

Most of the rest of the exhibition was fairly uneventful and expected. The only distinguishing part was when Sara and Michele Crispino entered the ice together as a joint exhibition performance. It was cute and well put-together, especially for a foray into pairs skating for the twins. 

An audible "Awww" came from Yuuko and Mari as the two finished their skate, which Yuuri knew could not be good 

"Awww, young love! Isn't it adorable?" Said Yuuko. 

To which, Yuuri almost choked. Luckily, Minako saved him from having to explain it himself. 

"Yuuko, they're twin brother and sister..." 

After that, everyone was silent and no one dared say another word. 

There was a small break in between the Juniors and seniors, which the group had used to get a much-needed celebratory lunch. By the time everyone got back, they had ended up missing the senior ice dancers and most of the pairs. But Yuuri was just glad they had made it back in time for the men's exhibition. 

Yuuri's stomach dropped almost to the floor as he thoughg about the upcoming exhibitions, and he couldn't help but be dissapointed that Victor wouldn't be performing, since he had promised go show him his exhibiting one more time at the GPF. The thought made Yuuri clutch the small paper that was tucked in his pocket even tighter. 

No one could control what had happened. But it still hurt Yuuri to even think about how much it personally and emotionally must have been hurting Victor. 

That is until he felt an urgent shaking of his shoulder coming from Mari. 

"Yuuri, look."

When he did, he saw Victor dressed in his official Team Russia gear, maneuvering his way towards a pre-setup camera man and reporter, while on crutches. Yuuri could feel his breath catch in his throat as he struggled to think about what could possibly be going on, until the image of Victor and the reporter lit up the jumbotron in the middle of the arena. 

The female reporter introduced herself in English, and gestured towards Victor, who did the same. Even though the reporter and a majority of the audience was Korean, it made sense to do the interview in English since it was probably the only language that both knew, as well as a majority of skating fans.

The words echoed in a tinny manner throughout the arena over the loudspeaker, and even though Yuuri's English still wasn't perfect, he hung on Victor's every word. Hoping and praying and wishing for good news, or a sign that this was all worth while. 

"Mr. Nikiforov, since you were already slated to skate today in exhibition, the ISU, RSF and KSF thought that this would be a good opportunity to do a small interview. First, how is your injury from yesterday doing?" asked the reporter. 

"Well, I can't say that I am good as new or ready to skate again, but I will be heading back to Russia and getting a thorough examination from my doctor to see what the best course of action for this season should be." 

"Speaking of the rest of the season, where do you see yourself on the road to Los Angeles?" 

"Certainly if I am able to skate, I would love to be in Los Angeles representing Mother Russia. But until then, I hope to recover and gain strength and use this experience as a learning opportunity. Of course, I hope to be on the podium at Russian Nationals and at Europeans, but if that is not possible, I will focus on my own recovery as well as the successes of my teammates." 

While Victor's answers sounded perfectly reasonable and polished, even through the grainy video feed on the junction, Yuuri could see a thick wall that Victor was placing around himself. Even though he was smiling, there was no real emotion or genuineness that reached out. Yuuri could tell, even from his own seat, that Victor was in pain — both physically and emotionally. 

"Even through your injury, you still had a very strong showing at this year's Grand Prix Final. Is there anything you would have done differently?" 

"Well, I wish that I hadn't fallen... or hurt my hip... and now I know that I should have practiced more spins on my left side..." Victor responded with a slightly pained chuckle, as if to dispel the awkwardness from his response. 

"Very understandable... and how have you felt about this season so far?"

"This season has not been my best. It has been full of ups and downs, and I have never really fallen into a comfortable groove or pattern with my programs. I am looking forward to next season though, now that I know what to expect with such an unpredictable field, and hopefully I can avoid a serious injury again." 

"You said that you were excited for next year's season, correct? Have you already begun picking out your music or choreographing your programs for the upcoming Olympic season?" 

"Yes I have put some thought into it, but it will be a very tightly-kept secret until my first competition of the 2009-2010 season. I'm pretty sure that Coach Yakov would not appreciate me revealing all of our hard work before its ready..." 

The camera then panned over to a very exhausted-looking Russian man wearing a Fedora, who just shook his head in response. 

"Well if you can't tell us what you are going to skate next season, can you tell us what you would have skated for your exhibition today?" 

Victor's press smile flickered for a moment as a small glimmer of a real smile appeared for a single camera frame. 

"In preparation for the Grand Prix Final, I did not choreograph a new EX, so I would have been skating to "Love Letters" as I did in my last Grand Prix competition. Plus, I promised a special person that I would skate this program for today, and I am genuinely sorry that I could not fulfill that promise. Still, this exhibiton is my love letter to them, to show how much I care for and treasure everything they have done for me throughout my career. And if my successes and triumphs can inspire them, I hope my failures and low points can as well." 

After Victor answered, the entire arena fell silent — completely stunned without an appropriate response. Yuuri was no exception. He found himself frantically rummaging through his bag to find that very letter that contained those words and that promise. When he found it, Yuuri's hands were uncontrollably quivering as he clutched the crumpled paper to his chest. Because yes, that letter and that promise meant more to Yuuri than Victor could ever know. 

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Yuuri was scared shitless. Again.

Who would have thought getting ready for the GPF banquet would have been this stressful? Yuuri had already finished skating, he had already won his medal, but this... now he had to talk to people and sponsors and coaches and skaters. He had to look presentable and professional as he represented Japan. And he had to be in the same room as Victor Nikiforov. 

He wanted to talk to Victor and thank him and praise him and confess to him that his exhibition was for him... but he also wanted to keel over and die at the thought. Yuuri had no idea what do expect and had no idea what he was even supposed to do. Besides Suzuki and his family, and Chris, Yuuri wasn't really friendly with anyone else at the competition. Of course he knew the Japanese skaters, but not well enough for anything above small talk, which made Yuuri want to vomit at the thought. 

With how much he was sweating, and how cold it was, Yuuri could have been out on the ice. But instead, it was just his nerves working his stomach into a knot and jumbling every thought he had ever had. Sure, Yuuri had been to banquets before. As a skater; as a qualifier; as a young Japanese boy. Never before as a medalist at an international competition. Not when he would have to represent himself and be in charge of his future connections and sponsorships. He was more than overwhelmed.

When Suzuki knocked on the hotel door, Yuuri was still struggling to figure out if his navy tie went with his suit, and if there was an option where he didn't have to tie it himself. 

"Yuuri, here. Let me." Suzuki gestured with a gentle smile as he held up a thinner red tie that didn't clash with Yuuri's official black JSF suit. After he tied it firmly underneath Yuuri's collar, and pinned a small Japanese flag pin onto his lapel, Suzuki gently grasped his shoulder. "There. Its time."

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Yakov had to drag Victor to the ballroom for the banquet. Victor had never really been a "good sport", so being forced to make small talk and congratulate the winners when he had not only fallen from the podium, but taken a major injury, was just an insult. 

And Victor being Victor, took his sweet time getting ready. Even though the banquet was set to start at 8 p.m., his hair was still wet from his shower at 7:15. Just a look of feined horror from the silver-haired skater told Yakov that it would be nearly impossible to get the drama queen out of that room until he was good and ready. 

Finally, at around 8:15, the Russian man emerged from his hotel room in a perfectly tailored grey suit with a burgundy tie. His fresh undercut was blownout and crisply styled for the formal event. A small shrug was the only response he gave Yakov when the coach voiced a complaint about his tardiness. 

"We can blame it on the crutches." 

By the time they got there, the opening remarks had already been said, and the athletes and coaches had been released to get their food. The slight chaos and chatter provided a decent cover for the pair to sneak in unannounced. 

Victor was not hungry, and he was not in a mood to talk with anyone who wasn't Chris. While the two young skaters exchanged their own 'coulda, shoulda, woulda's about their GPF performances, the main event began to take place. The successful skaters traversed the room to thank their supporters and sponsors, as well as introduce themselves to other high-up officials in the skating world. Victor had been through it all before, and it was all very bland, however he wished he could have been in their shoes instead of sequestered by his own crutches in his corner. 

"You can't keep beating yourself up over it Victor. What's done is done. The banquet is your chance to have fun and forget about skating." Chris tried to reassure Victor, with a firm hand on his friend's shoulder. 

Victor just sighed. "I can't just forget about what happened Chris. I didn't just get beat, I ruined my own chances at a medal. I probably even ruined my own chances at he rest of this season." He then gestured out at the rest of the gala. "Some of those juniors even had better presentation than I did. There was a light in their eyes and a desire to fight for every jump. I couldn't do that. All I could think of is how long it would take them to surpass me." 

"Don't say that Victor... the transition from juniors to seniors may be difficult, but the physical transition from a juvenile skater to an adult is an even harder one. Everyone struggles with those pains and adjustments. And trust me when I say, those junior skaters look up to you. I looked up to you. I still look up to you. Just because you're human doesn't mean you are done. Come on Victor... " Chris said with an outstretched hand, which Victor just shook away. 

"Thank you for trying Chris, but I really just need to be alone and to deal with this at my own pace... go, have fun." 

Begrudgingly, Chris left him to go speak with sponsors and coaches and old friends — left him to wallow in his own pity and loneliness. Victor even wished that he had less self-respect, and could have drunken himself into an alcoholic stupor to forget his misfortunes. 

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Yuuri had never had this many people want to talk to him before, ever. Not when he had first qualified for the JGPF, not when he had gone to Japanese Nationals, not in school, never. And it was overwhelming.

Thank god he had Minako and Suzuki this side, because after the 10th congratulatory conversation and 5th sponsorship opportunity, Yuuri could barely even remember Japanese, and couldn't even begin to think about English. For most of it, he just smiled and shook hands, agreed with whatever Suzuki said, and said thank you A LOT. After about 20 minutes Minako gave up, realizing it was not her element, and proceeded to challenge some other choreographers to a drinking competition. 

Just when Yuuri was about ready to pass out from sheer over-exertion and too much stimulation, he felt a tap on his shoulder. There, Yuuri turned around to see a large Italian man in a slate-blue suit, with very dark, strong and masucline facial features and stature. A large smile lit up his countenance, contrasting with the harsh angles of his face. 

"Ciao ciao, Suzuki!" The man turned towards the other coach, and firmly shook his hand with a smile before extending his hand towards Yuuri. "And you must be Yuuri Katsuki! My name is Celestino Cialdini." 

Although a little startled, Yuuri meekly shook the man's hand and nodded, then turned to Suzuki as if to look for a cue on what to say or do. 

Upon seeing his helpless student, Suzuki fought the urge to laugh before explaining the situation. 

"Yuuri, this is my friend and fellow coach: Celestino. He is currently here as Jean-Jacques Leroy's coach, and he is based out of Detroit. I thought that since you were looking into training in Michigan when you go to school, that this would be a good opportunity for you two to meet and discuss some plans for your future." It was bittersweet for both Yuuri and Suzuki, after they had finally achieved sucess together. However Suzuki was looking out for his future as a skated and a competitor, not as his student. 

At the mention of 'Detroit', Yuuri's face lit up at the possibility of moving, training and succeeding there. As the two begin talking about skating and training and visions for the future, Suzuki expertly extricated himself from the conversation so he could leave the two be (as well as enjoy his own night and successes). 

Even though Yuuri was very intimidated by the boisterous man at first, Celestino was surprisingly easy to talk to. Or at least listen to. Yuuri wasn't the most talkative person in the world; so being able to listen to Celestino's stories of America, coaching and college, and being able to nod along in understanding or contribute a question every now and then was a perfect. And for the longest time, studying and training in America was a far-off DREAM.

But here was a man who not only could help him get there, but who was telling him that he wanted to work with him in Detroit, and could even pull a few strings to get him a scholarship or a few local sponsorships. 

By the time Yuuri first interrupted their conversation with a yawn, it had already been almost an hour, and neither of them had even noticed the party beginning to die down as the wide array of international guests began leaving to prepare for their flights in the morning. The whole night was so busy and exciting, that by the time Suzuki came to take him back upstairs, Yuuri had completely forgotten his nerves. Or the fact that the banquet could quite possibly been his only chance to meet his idol: Victor Nikiforov. 

As Suzuki ushered the young Japanese skater out of the banquet hall, Yuuri tried scanning the remaining guests for a shock of silver hair. But either the injured man had long since left, or Yuuri was way more exhausted and sleep-deprived than he first thought. 

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The rest of the banquet was absolutely miserable. Not only did his pain-medication begin to wear off, but Victor's fourth place finish meant he was chopped liver to every coach and sponsor. And every other skater in attendance was either reveling in the experience or networking, while Victor Nikiforov was wallowing with his own inner demons. 

Seeing everyone else so jovial and grateful only made Victor feel worse about his own self-doubt. Any other skater in the world would had killed to be in his position. Well, maybe not injured and possibly out for the season, but having placed fourth in the world at the Grand Prix Final. The juniors were just beginning their foray into international competitive figure skating, and obviously just excited to make it this far. 

From Victor's own perimeter table, he could see the young figure skater who had caught his eye throughout the competition and with his exhibition. Victor had promised himself that he would go congratulate the young man on his impressive showing and artistry... but the mental weight that was hanging over the entire banquet for Victor kept him anchored in his seat. 

The future of figure skating only served to remind Victor of his own mortality in the sport. At age 21, he maybe had another 10 years if he was lucky, but realistically maybe another 6 to 8. The young men and women in the ballroom all around him had all the time in the world. They had all the opportunities in the world. And they had the entire world to travel and explore. But for Victor? At age 21, he might have already hit his peak. Ready to be replaced by a shiny new machine from the Russian figure skating factory. 

Finally, after making his appearance for an hour or two, Victor typed out a text to Yakov, saying that he was calling it a night so he could pack and get the rest that he couldn't the night before. In all honesty, Victor just wanted to leave because being alone in his room would be better than moping around, alone yet surrounded by people who didn't care. Luckily, with everyone intoxicated or occupied, the silver-haired Russian on crutches hobbling out into the hotel didn't cause much of a hoopla. 

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Finally around midnight, Yuuri made it back to his hotel room. Their flight back to Saga was scheduled to depart around 11 the next morning, which only gave him around 8 or 9 hours to pack and rest. However, the events of the night and weekend clouded Yuuri's thoughts and productivity, making it nearly impossible to pack or sleep. 

After about half an hour of doing absolutely nothing, Yuuri stormed over to the desk by his bed, and tore a fresh piece of the blue hotel stationary off of its pad. There, he began to write. 

Yuuri might have missed his chance to talk to Victor and thank him at the banquet, but god forbid was he going to let himself make that mistake again. His sudden spur of confidence might have stemmed from the left-over adrenaline from competition, or the sleep deprivation, but in that moment it didn't matter. 

Plainly, in dark blue ink that coordinated with the simple hotel stationary, Yuuri poured out his soul. 

The jumbled handwriting and pure emotions on that small piece of paper were capped with not only a small drawing of katsudon, but Yuuri Katsuki's own name. Before Yuuri could even read-through it a second time and regret his words, he neatly folded it in half and wrote Victor's name on the blank side, along with his own email address. Then, he placed it in front of his door so that he wouldn't forget to bring if to the front desk in the morning. 

With his head cleared of probably a thousand what-if scenarios, Yuuri was finally able to pack his bags in a (relatively) timely manner, and subsequently lay down for the most restful sleep he had gotten in probably a month. 

When morning broke and an obnoxious alarm jolted the Japanese boy from his sleep, there was already a text from Suzuki waiting for him. 

Coach Suzuki (08:38): I've already checked out and am waiting in the hotel cafe. You have until 9 to check out, but we need to leave for the airport right after. See you downstairs. 

Yuuri rushed through his morning routine to look at least a little but less of a disheveled mess for his trip, but mostly focused on not forgetting anything and being quick. If he did forget anything, Yuuri at least knew he had his skates, costumes and all of his JSF gear. Anything else could probably be replaced. 

He hastily rushed downstairs and to the concierge desk for check out. After returning his room key, Yuuri rummaged around in his pocket for the small piece of paper he had addressed to his idol, and placed it on the counter. 

"Would you please pass on this note to Victor Nikiforov when he checks out today? It would really mean a lot to me." Yuuri managed to say without stuttering, sputtering or stumbling over his words. His strong conviction in this last task before he left to train for his new senior career was foreign, but the boost of confidence was just what he needed. 

The Korean woman at the desk nodded with a small smile, and took the note. 

"I will make sure this note gets to Mr. Nikiforov. Thank you for your patronage." Even through her heavy accent, Yuuri could still understand the young woman. The reality of his situation began weighing heavier and heavier on Yuuri's shoulders, which left him buzzing with nervousness and excitement. 

Then, after spotting Suzuki in the small cafe, Yuuri rushed over to meet him so they could start their journey back to Japan. Which for Yuuri, would not only mean returning as a JGPF bronze medallist, but returning home to start trainign for his senior debut and possible move to America. All of this topped by the nervous excitement behind finally revealing himself as Victor Nikiforov's secret fan, meant for a very interesting trip ahead. 

Too bad neither Yuuri nor the concierge at the desk knew that Team Russia, Yakov and Victor had already checked out two hours prior to Yuuri's departure... 

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: "I'll Do Anything" 

The next few months were tough. 

Even though Yuuri had already won Japanese Junior Nationals, and medalled at the Junior Grand Prix Final, preparing for Junior Worlds was tough. It was even tougher while preparing to move halfway across the world to make his senior debut. 

In between preparations for Worlds in February, and his move to Michigan in March, Yuuri barely had time to worry about anything else. He spent hours upon hours each week with a JSF representative sorting out their plan.

Keep in contact with Celestino and the university — check. Get a student visa so he can apply for college — check. Keep up with sponsorship appearances and contracts — check. 

But practice time at the rink? That was a another unpleasant monster he had to work in. Sure, Yuuri was able to perform and tour at small rinks and malls over the holiday season through sponsorship opportunities. However, with traveling and little-to-no practice time, he would often downgrade his jumps and spin combinations. Luckily he didn't fall much. But what did fall, was his pride. 

Not only was it announced that Victor Nikiforov was going to be out for the rest of the season, but Yuuri never received a response to his heartfelt letter he gave to him at the hotel. 

After a month had passed, Yuuri suspected he would never get a response. After not seeing or hearing anything after Russian nationals, Yuuri should have known. It wasn't until after even Europeans came around with still no letter or email or anything, that Yuuri just gave up. 

It must have been his programs — too basic, too junior-level, too boring, too over-done, too something. No, it was probably his exhibition — what was that, a love declaration?! How cliche and desperate could he have been?!?! Or... maybe it was that he was too chicken to give him the letter himself... or even talk to him at the banquet... maybe Victor didn't even want to know who wrote him all those letters in the first place. Maybe to Victor it was just a fun way to pass the time and to entertain a young boy with young dreams... but not when it became personal. Not when that boy with dreams had a name. Not when that boy with crushed dreams had a face. 

By the time February came around, Yuuri was a mess.

The stress of moving, the stress of college, the stress of leaving his family and all he had ever known — all combined with the pressure of success with no outlet for relief... resulted in failure. 

Well, placing 12th in the world wasn't really a failure, especially not after at least making it to the Free Skate. But for Yuuri, it was the straw that broke the camel's back. 

How was he supposed to make his senior debut after that?! How was he supposed to prove to Celestino and the JSF and even the Olympic Selection Committee that he was worth their time and effort? And worse, how was he supposed to prove to Victor Nikiforov that he was even worth a response? 

Victor... 

In the past, Victor had been Yuuri's outlet. An imaginary mentor that helped him through his darkest times, even if it was just through the laminated lines and looks of a poster on his wall. Before, he could just write to Victor and tell him his worries and his fears. But now Victor was a worry and a fear. 

Now Yuuri was back to the beginning. A frightened fan, too shy to pick up a pen and write to his hero and idol. Looking back, it probably took Yuuri at least 6 different tries before he finally sent his first letter to Victor. But after so many scrapped attempts to ask "Why?" or to even express genuine concern and interest, who knew how long it would take Yuuri to finally send another letter to Victor. 

After 2 and a half gruelling months, Yuuri finally broke. After stack upon stack of crumpled papers, ripped up letters and half-addressed envelopes piled on his floor, Yuuri finally wrote to Victor. 

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The next few months were tough. 

After receiving the news that he did not want to hear from his doctor back in Russia, Victor was out for the rest of the season with a severe muscle strain as well as a labral tear in his hip. Instead if spending time training and being back on the ice, Victor was ordered to RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression and Elevation) for three arduous weeks. However when those three weeks were up and Victor was more than antsy to get back to training... a subsequent X-ray showed that the test had not healed. 

This meant not only would he miss more training time, but he would require arthroscopic surgery as well as physical therapy to regain the strength and stability on his left side. 

Luckily for Victor, by some grace of god the Russian Skating Federation and most sports publications had the human decency to leave their reports and official statements at: "Victor Nikiforov has taken the rest of the season off to focus on recovery". Sure, the rest of Russia didn't really care anymore since he was useless, and could basically be thrown out like a piece of garbage... but at least it allowed for peaceful and uninterrupted rest. But it also left Victor alone with himself. 

Watching Russian Nationals on his birthday instead of being on the ice in Kazan was the worst. And even if he wasn't basically bed ridden, it's not like Victor would have been able to make the 1500 km trip just to not skate. Still, seeing what was left to represent Russia at Europeans and Worlds left Victor feeling sick. Figure skating in Russia had been on a steady decline since the early 2000s — which was why Victor always pushed himself further. To prove the whole world wrong. 

What hurt even more wasn't just the fact that he was alone, but how silent his fan base had been since his dismal free skate at the Grand Prix Final. Victor had almost no contact from previous sponsors who had earlier milked him for everything he was worth. Combined with plummeting social media engagement meant that even the most loyal fans were starting to lose interest now that he was no longer in the limelight.

Even his secret fan, his pen pal, his motivator when times got tough... went silent. 

Sure, the last time Victor had sent anything to his secret fan was the night before the Grand Prix Final... and it hadn't been that long. But in the past, at every fall, his fan was always there to pick him back up and inspire him to be better. 

Maybe Victor was too hopeful. Maybe he was too confident, or cocky, and didn't know his self-worth. If he could barely even leave his bed, what had he done to deserve kind words from some young skater with a future, who would probably surpass him in a year or two. 

A few weeks after his surgery, Victor began going to physical therapy every day, and slowly working in off-ice workouts and choreographing sessions in once a week. It was painful, it was long and it was humiliating. Relearning to walk and dance and skate when it was literally all he had done since he was a boy. It left Victor feeling hollow. 

Makkachin was the only small highlight in Victor's life. Somehow, the large poodle could tell something was wrong with her owner, and would no longer pounce and jump and beg for walks. Instead, she offered gentle cuddles and kisses to accommodate Victor's recovery. If Victor had any tears or real emotion left, he probably would have cried at how lay he was to have her in his life; but he didn't. 

Victor practically forgot Europeans were even a thing that was happening. He no longer frequented social media, and barely even turned on the TV any more. It wasn't until his physical therapist asked him in passing conversation how he was feeling about it that he even remembered how much had changed in the past year. Last year, he earned a silver and a spot on everyone's prediction lists for the World podium. Now... he could barely even skate. 

A week later, Victor finally began offical training with Yakov again. Yakov knew better than to pry; he knew how Victor could retreat within himself at the slightest provocation, and he didn't want to lose the progress that he had accomplished over the last three months. 

One night, after one particularly day of physical therapy and a gruelling rink practice (meaning he had attempted a jump, and gotten his ear chewed off by Yakov), Victor stumbled into his apartment's threshold to be met with a large ball of fur. After dropping his skate bag, Victor grabbed Makkachin's leash and begrudgingly headed on his normal route that he had committed to muscle memory. Like normal, he checked his small mailbox, expecting nothing but junk mail and advertisements and bills. 

However a small, non-descript, white envelope was mixed in with the normal trash. Victor honestly thought nothing of it, in his tired state, since it was not marked with a return address. But when he finally returned, and proceeded to melt into his couch and nurse his hip, is when he recognized the handwriting. 

A spark flew through Victor's entire body; a light that had not been present in his eyes returned for a short moment, and his cold heart began to really beat again. He ripped open the envelope with a fervor that usually was only saved for the rotations in a jump, and the ghost of a smile on his face. 

Until he pulled out the unkempt and dingy piece of paper. Instead of the signature bright stationary and stickers or anything resembling his secret fan's previous letters, it was something that honestly resembled a piece of trash. Victor's whole demeanor immediately fell like a fragile glass pushed off a ledge. 

He frantically unfolded the letter, searching for any hope or reason to believe he was wrong. But all he found was a resounding feeling of something wrong, and the sting of tears welling up in his dimmed eyes that Victor refused to let fall. 

The words written on that page weren't right. It was off. It was impersonal. Those words on that paper were empty and hollow. Obviously, his fan didn't really care anymore now that Victor had failed. Victor understood why, but it hurt.

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, and tried to convince his fragile frame of mind that it was at least a nice gesture. Victor didn't even realize his hands were shaking until he crumpled the letter back up and threw it away like the trash it was, and like the worthless piece of garbage he felt like. 

Just one more reason to work and work and work until nothing hurt anymore. Just one more reason to fight until he reached the top. 

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Detroit was nothing like Yuuri could have ever imagined. 

Instead of glistening buildings and fast moving cars and opportunity — everything he had grown accustomed to seeing on TV... Yuuri was faced with decay, congestion and filth. And snow — lots of snow. 

Detroit could not be further from Hatsetsu. 

The color scheme was grey, brown and dreary instead of inviting and bright like his own little seaside town. There was rust and chipped paint and broken windows, and Yuuri quickly learned not to walk alone to the bus station at night. Unlike home, he could not bump into old friends and neighbors on their way to work or standing in the open-air market. In Detroit, it was a good day if he didn't literally bump into someone on the street. Just going outside sometimes was enough to trigger a minor anxiety attack. 

Even though there was a lake on the border, there was no fresh ocean breeze. There were no gulls. There were, however, hoards of boats and shipping containers. And smog.  

None of that really mattered to Yuuri though, because he could study and he could skate. When he got to Detroit in March, he still had 5 whole months until he started school, so he could train with Celestino every day for hours in the ice and in the studio. 

However once September came around, Yuuri was not only a full-time athlete but a full-time student. Well, barely. Yuuri managed to register only for classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, as well as an online class so he could focus on skating during all other times of the week. 

The commute to and from Ann Arbor was long and annoying, and the cramped space on the bus was possibly the most painful thing to deal with after a long day of training and nursing major bruises. Ann Arbor was a bit more inviting and cleaner than Detroit, but the college wasn't. The Michigan campus was huge and sprawling. If most of Yuuri's classes hadn't been in the same buildings, he didn't know what he would have done. Luckily, it was a nice place to run, as prescribed by Celestino for cross-training. Going on runs was basically the only time Yuuri could be alone, and running was a good enough distraction to take Yuuri away from his own mind. 

Yuuri shared a small apartment close to the rink with three other skaters, hockey players, who he didn't know very well and who didn't really care to know him. Yuuri shared Celestino and his rink with a multitude of other skaters, and unlike in Hatsetsu, he couldn't just go there at any time of day and find open ice. Yuuri shared his school with almost 45,000 other students who he didn't know, didn't have time to know, and had nothing in common with. Yuuri even had to share his seat on the bus almost every day, unless by some miracle it wasn't full on the hour-long commute. 

Of course, Yuuri enjoyed being alone to decompress — but feeling alone made him depressed. 

The weight of this undertaking was so heavy on Yuuri's shoulders: the distance, his grades, his talent and even the weight of his own skates on his feet made it almost impossible to get out of bed some days. 7000 miles from home and a 14-hour time difference between Yuuri and his family was something that seemed impossible to get used to. 

The training was tough. So was not medalling at Worlds; and so was moving all the way across the world. But being ignored by your idol was even worse. 

College put a strain on his senior debut, and made it impossible to skate around the world with a bang. The stress of both made Yuuri feel like he was going insane. 20 hours of on-ice training each week, 12 credit hours, 2 hours of commuting a day and even more time spent on homework, in the studio and in the gym felt like it was going to kill him. 

As of his freshman year, Yuuri was barely mediocre at both school and skating. He struggled to get Bs on most tests, and couldn't even fully rotate a quad toe loop (much less land one), or even land most of his triples in competitions. Yuuri was not surprised when he wasn't assigned any Grand Prix competitions — because he didn't meet the score requirements yet. But placing 26th at Japanese Nationals and not even making the Free Skate? It was a crushing blow, and he didn't feel worthy enough to visit home. 

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Yuuri had less than satisfactory performances at B Internationals, with his highest placement only being a bronze at the NRW Trophy in Germany... combining that with painfully mediocre grades left Yuuri feeling lost. 

During the off-season, which was for most of his second semester, Yuuri studied his ass off in order to keep his scholarship that Celestino had probably sold his soul to get him. The only real break he took all semester was to watch the Vancouver Olympics. For possibly the first time since moving to America, Yuuri really thought about Victor. The comfortable and nostalgic feeling of wonder that comprised his entire skating career and motivation was an odd feeling in comparison to the rest of his life in Detroit. Watching him not only as a fan, but a hopeful competitor was a weird contrast from his previous idolization. When Victor skated his silver-medal winning performance, Yuuri couldn't describe it, but something had definitely changed for the silver haired Russian. 

After the Olympics, Yuuri unrolled a few of his posters he had brought from home, and hung them up on his prison-like walls. Even though they didn't hold the same emotion for Yuuri as they used to, a sense of home filled his plain room in a way it never had before. 

Finally, come May, Yuuri finally achieved all As by the skin of his teeth. It was then, he decided that if he was going to succeed in both skating and school, he would need a change. 

After speaking with an advisor, Yuuri decided to switch majors from Athletic Training to Sports Management; that way, he could carry over most of his credits from the same school of study, and get training to possibly run his own rink or be a coach in the future. Yuuri also decided taking a semester off in the fall would probably be a better use of his September through December, so he could dedicate that time to proving his worth on the ice. 

That summer, a new boy joined Yuuri under Celestino's wing. Phichit Chulanot moved away from his home in Bangkok, Thailand at only 16 and soon became Yuuri's closest friend — and his rock. He was 8500 miles away from home, but had the complete opposite of Yuuri's outlook from the previous year. Phichit was not only confident that he would succeed, but was looking forward to all of the opportunities for growth and excitement that living in America would bring. 

Phichit forced Yuuri out of his shell and out of his apartment. If Phichit ever needed a personal tour guide, travel buddy or photographer, he would practically force Yuuri to take on those positions. The Thai boy liked to make things fun, but never made fun; unlike Mari, he never made fun of Yuuri for his 'small' obsession with Victor Nikiforov. Instead, Phichit saw him as an opportunity to motivate Yuuri. And an easy gift idea (because there were way too many gift-giving holidays, and a surprising amount of Victor merchandise).

When Yuuri fell into a particularly bad spell of homesickness and anxiety, Phichit suggested they go to a pet store to see some "fur therapy". What Yuuri didn't anticipate, was coming out of the store with a small multi-colored hamster and all the necessary amenities to take care of it. Apparently, Phichit had been wanting one in Detroit ever since he had gotten to the states, but had never had the time or reason in between skating. 

The two were not roommates that year, but they could probably be considered as such with how often they were at each other's apartments. Yuuri was a dog person, and missed Vicchan to no end, but being able to take care of and play with a little hamster was a close second. Movie nights, sleepovers, spa nights and cooking failures filled their time outside of practice, and not only cemented their friendship, but Yuuri's healthy mental state. 

The next year, after Phichit had been struggling on the Junior level, and after Yuuri had been fighting for some semblance of an international standing, they finally became roommates. Phichit moved in shortly after one of the nameless hockey players that lived with Yuuri got drafted by some team in Canada, and it only made sense. 

That year, the 2011-2012 season, Yuuri landed his first quad. That year, Yuuri got invited to his first Grand Prix event: the NHK Trophy in Sapporo. That year, Phichit won a Junior World Bronze medal in Minsk, even after not medalling at a single Junior Grand Prix event. That year, Yuuri saw Victor Nikiforov pull out a letter on the ice for the first time in almost 3 years. 

Yuuri still wrote to Victor before major competitions, but never to the level or frequency he did as a Junior. He still could never bring himself to sign it or put a return address again after the crushing defeat he had at the Grand Prix Final.

Sometimes, Yuuri would write to Victor almost as if it was a personal diary or if he was praying for advice at a shrine. Of course, these letters never got sent, but it was cathartic and a habit he had grown into early in his skating career.

Rather than dwell on his previous snub, Phichit told him to use his letters to Victor as motivation. So, Yuuri used those letters as a constant goal to do better and go further — and someday, meet Victor on the podium and finally give him a letter in person. 

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Victor grew stronger and further until he was larger than life — but Victor grew numb. As his talent, accomplishments and fanbase grew over the years, his emotions steadily died until Victor could bury them deep within himself in a coffin hidden by a mask of perfection. His public persona helped Victor forget any of his inadequacies he had previously fought against. 

After his surgery, nothing else mattered to Victor than being the best — because if he was the best, nothing else could hurt. When Victor was in his off-season, he might even skate upwards of 25 hours in a week, and would match that with just as much time in the gym and dance studio. Victor had his schedule planned to every hour of every day. Ideally, eight hours of sleep each night; an hour for each meal and an hour of travel time to and from the rink to make room for a snack or traffic.

A 5km run each morning before jumping practice and his first batch of ice time, then breakfast. Studio work in front of a mirror to nitpick any details in his choreography, ballet and yoga to lengthen his body and extension before more ice time and lunch. More ice time after lunch, with a good hour of strength training in the gym sandwiched in between more time on the ice before dinner. After, he would perform 3 run throughs of each program before calling it a night at the rink, and ending it with either an ice bath or trip to the sauna. Victor also worked in about an hour and a half of free time before he was supposed to go to bed, but he often spent that time choreographing exhibitions and programs that might never see the light of day. If he didn't, he probably would have spent hours trying and failing to sleep as his mind raced before finally falling victim to the exhaustion of his life. 

It probably wasn't healthy, which is why on his official ISU profile it only said "20 hours a week"; but Victor didn't care because it got him results. Year after year, gold after gold, money and fame poured in.

The only failure he accrued was not bringing home the gold medal in Vancouver. Victor's glory and gold was stolen by some no-quad hack named Evan Lysechek. The silver that hung around his neck felt like a brand burning his failures into history, and a permanent reminder that not even his own country cared enough to stand up for him. 

Victor had 3 quads: a Quad Toe-Triple Toe in his short, and a Quad Salchow added onto his Quad combination in his free. What did Lysechek have? Exactly the same Program Component Score as Victor. Technically? Three Level 4 spins to Victor's two, and transitions — but since when did "transitions" win Olympic gold medals?

In the end, he couldn't contest his medal, but Victor did end up changing skating forever. The new scoring system solidified not only his place in history, but his place on the podium in every single competition he entered. 

Victor raced to take advantage of the changed he fought for, and spent every moment he could off of the ice in the jumping harness. He tested out different Quad Toe combinations, tried Quad Salchow combos until he felt comfortable enough to do them on the ice... then came the fun. While most of the world was contained to those two jumps, Victor broadened his possibilities by practicing Quad Lutzes, Quad Flips and Quad Loops. Some were more successful than others, but after his painful recovery after his last injury, Victor didn't want to risk anything until he knew he could do it. 

By the time Worlds came around in late March, Victor had almost perfected his Quad Lutz. To prove the world, and specifically the judges he was a true athlete and artist that was never short on surprises, Victor attempted the first Quad Lutz in international competition in place of his opening Quad Toe Loop in his long program. Even though he fell, his rotations were perfect — just like his rightfully earned gold medal. 

Come next season, Victor's entire skating style had changed. His programs were never "risks"; he surprised judges and audiences by adding jumps, changing his entry, and Tano-ing whenever he had the opportunity. Victor didn't have nearly as much stamina as some of the other international skaters who could add more jumps to the back half of their programs for extra points. Instead, he focused again on innovation and perfection with his own skill set. 

While he was making his way through his Grand Prix qualifiers, he would sometimes throw that Quad Lutz in there, but it still wasn't perfect. Usually a two-footed landing or another fall. But when it came time to head to the Grand Prix Final in Beijing, the best way Victor thought to surprise the audience was to ratify a jump that the whole world didn't even know he was working on: the Quad Flip. 

He had been working on it for almost as long as the Lutz, but after his failed attempt at Worlds the year prior, Victor knew he had to have this jump perfect, and continued to work on it in secret. Probably even more than he worked on his Quad Lutz. 

When he was in the holding area before his free skate, and still confidently in first (after the short, he had a good nine point cushion, and the other skaters had not even come close to making Victor even need his season's best to win) he decided. The first jumping pass that was scheduled to be a Quad Salchow, but a surprisingly genuine smile overtook Victor's face as he confidently switched his outside edge in his simple 3 turn entry onto his inside edge and — bang. With a toe pick assist, and four full and effortless rotations, Victor Nikiforov landed and ratified the first Quad Flip. 

The 2010-2011 Grand Prix Final not only awarded Victor his second consecutive gold, but a new World Record. From then on, Victor began to chase the thrill and satisfaction of surprise; because only then did he really feel. 

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The next season came around to find Victor chasing history. It wasn't enough to win gold. It wasn't enough to break his own records. Victor wanted to be written down and remembered with history; whether that was because he tried things no one ever did before, ratified new jumps, or because he won more than anyone else ever had before... Victor wanted it all. 

Victor was assigned the Cup of China and the Rostelecom Cup at the beginning and end of November. As the 2011 World Champion, Victor was offered a third assignment of Skate America, but he knew he didn't need 3 placements to prove he was the best.

In Shanghai, Victor finally attempted a Quad Loop in his short program, but underrotated it. His back outside edge wasn't great, but without the toepick assist it still didn't have enough power. Victor still took home another gold for Russia, but it wasn't that hard with the field of only 10 competitors. 

The following week, some American skater named Brandon Mroz ended up ratifying the Quad Lutz at the NHK Trophy, which Victor could tell was a direct challenge to himself, since they would be competing against each other in Moscow. Victor knew based off of his scores, that ballsy skater probably wouldn't even crack the top 6 at the Rostelecom Cup, but his ego still told him that he had to do it.

In Moscow, instead of attempting some half-assed Loop again, Victor landed a spiteful Quad Lutz, just to prove that he could. While he might not have ratified it, and even though Mroz managed to land his again... Victor catapulted his already monstrous score with the new base-value 13.6 point jump to a new world record. 

Yakov had given up on scolding Victor for changing up his jump elements on the spot. Victor was hard to control and had errant disregard for precedent. But especially with a normal base-value cushion of 10-15 points over any other competitors, it was hard to really be mad at him, especially after the endless gold medals and world records. 

The Lutz wasn't Victor's favorite jump, because his back-outside edge control wasn't great. But unlike the Loop, he could take off with his toe pick, which made it way easier to perfect. Even though he much preferred his Quad Flip, it was the highest scoring jump outside of a Quad Axel. So he begrudgingly began putting it into his lineup, by keeping it only at the beginning of his short program when his stamina was the best. 

All of these things propelled Victor to yet another Grand Prix Final gold medal, which he won by almost 16 points ahead of the silver medalist. His Russian Nationals, European and World Championship wins were all but expected at that point. He walked away from the season with a clean sweep.

Victor's medals and notoriety quickly propelled him to international fame. Instead of his normal off-season, packed with jump training and sleepless nights, Victor spent months traveling. A tour with Stars on Ice, too many exhibitions to count, sponsorships, modeling gigs and almost every possible type of appearance took up the better part of April through July. 

Luckily, as the choreographer of his own programs, Victor had already been brainstorming and choreographing throughout even the last season, and already had something done and almost perfected by mid-August. He was hardly even fazed when he was assigned Skate Canada and the Rostelecom Cup for the following season. As if his placement atop the podium was even under review.

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Yuuri came off of his Junior year of college and his 2011-2012 season on a fairly good note. He passed all of his classes, managed to finish in Sixth at Japanese Nationals, and finally landed his Quad Toe Loop. Even though it was a personal best, his score still wasn't nearly enough to get him a spot on the Japanese national team or a trip to Four Continents. Or a qualifying spot for a Grand Prix without the help of the Japanese Skating Federation. 

Instead of sitting around and moping (which is what his mind always told him to do no matter what) or being a normal college student and having a fun summer, Yuuri told Celestino his goal. He had been offered a spot at the NHK Trophy in late November, but Yuuri wanted more. 

"I want to get two Grand Prix assignments." Yuuri faced the tall and tan Italian man with an unusual fire in his eyes. 

While another coach might have laughed, Celestino stood strong and took in his student's obvious motivation, and nodded. 

"Well you will have to get your score up to a 159.66 at an international competition..." Celestino took his phone out to search up the necessary information. "... such as the Nebelhorn Trophy, the Ondrej Nepela Memorial, the Finlandia Trophy, the Cup of Nice... oh, wait... there's a new one this year" the U.S. International Figure Skating Classic... and it's in Salt Lake City. Which is only about a 3 hour flight time, so that might be a good one to look into." 

Yuuri nodded with a firm stance. "I'll do anything and compete anywhere if I can get another placement." 

From then until September, Yuuri trained like crazy. He still couldn't consistently do his Quad Toe Loop, but his Triples became stronger and more consistent to where he could put them in the second half of his programs. He worked hard with Celestino and a guest choreographer who primarily worked with Ice Dancers to produce a technically insane step sequence and character-filled program for his Lohengrin short program. 

The coach and skater pair decided to compete in September at the U.S. International Figure Skating Classic and the Ondrej Nepela Memorial in Slovakia at the beginning of October. Both also decided that it would be best if Yuuri took off another fall semester so they could keep up the focused training without distractions, and travel without fear of falling behind. 

When the middle of September came around, not only Celestino and Yuuri, but also Phichit traveled to Salt Lake City. Yuuri brought home a bronze at his first competition of the season, shocking their whole team, but still not making the score requirement by 5. Phichit did fairly well in the short program as well, but fell twice in his long when his stamina didn't last, and fell into 7th place. Overall, it was a successful weekend, which helped carry Yuuri to Slovakia. 

At the Ondrej Nepela Memorial, Yuuri felt a fire like he had met before. There was no pressure. only a drive to win and do better — and he did. Yuuri walked away with an astonishing silver medal and a personal best after skating both programs clean for the first time, but also a score of 175.27, which qualified him for Grand Prix competitions. 

Only a few days later, Celestino received a call from the International Skating Union inviting Yuuri to compete at Skate America. The small Detroit skating family freaked out and congratulated Yuuri on his placement with cake and confetti, but there was very little time to celebrate since he had to leave for Washington on October 17th.

On the 16th, Celestino received another phone call, this time regarding Phichit. After the U.S. International Classic, Phichit competed in a few other small B-levels, and managed to do pretty well score wise, but never made it atop the podium. However, apparently after some Russian dropped out of Skate Canada, the ISU wanted to open a spot for Phichit to come to Ontario. Immediately, the Thai boy screamed, and accepted the spot.

After a very short-lived celebration, Yuuri flew to Kent, Washington to compete. The short program was not his friend, and he fell on a Quad Toe Loop and rushed through a spin combination which landed himself with only a 58.79. Which was only two points away from last. Through some sheer miracle, Yuuri landed all but one jump (but he still got the rotations), and managed to earn a 137.57 on his free for sixth, but still ended up finishing eighth. Overall it was a learning experience, but it still kind of hurt knowing even his best free skate would land him miles away from the top skaters.

When Yuuri got him, Phichit was waiting for Celestino and Yuuri with a big homemade banner that said: "Congrats on Skate America Yuuri!" Which was honesty kind of strange, and way more ostentatious than Yuuri preferred, but it was still very Phichit. At the bottom of the stairs, Phichit lept onto Yuuri and encompassed him in a massive hug before scream-whispering into his ear. 

"You'll never guess who I'm going to meet next weekend!" 

Yuuri immediately shifted away from the sudden contact, and stared blankly at his best friend. "I dunno, who?" 

For a moment, Phichit's face showcased shock and almost betrayal, before he shook his head as if it was the most obvious thing ever. 

"Victor Nikiforov!" 

When they all finally got back to their apartment, Yuuri and Phichit barely managed to contain their fanboy tendencies and the mortification that would be failing in front of one of the greatest skaters to ever live. Phichit of course was just excited to represent Thailand on the international stage, and be the first Thai skater to ever compete at a Grand Prix event. But he was also nervous, with it being his first real international competition. However, the two of them managed to distract each other by placing bets on how high everyone would score, or which jumps Victor would include in his programs, or on whether or not Phichit could manage to get a selfie with him. 

By the time the next Wednesday came around, the two boys had bet that if Phichit could manage to stay within 30 points of Victor, Yuuri would have to vacuum the apartment for a month. And, if Phichit could snag a photo with Victor Nikiforov in Ontario, Yuuri would have to do three loads of Phichit's laundry 

In the end, Phichit still ended up taking last. He recieved a 169.67, so Phichit did not stay within 30 points of Victor. It was his first ever Grand Prix assignment ever, and Phichit was honestly just excited to score a personal best that was above the Grand Prix minimum score.

What Phichit did do, however, was get a picture with the Victor Nikiforov.

Of course, no-Instagram-or-social-media-in-general Yuuri Katsuki did not immediately see Phichit's victory, but by the time Phichit landed back in Detroit, he promptly blew up Yuuri's texts.

Phichit Chulanot: I did it!!!!!!

Yuuri Katsuki: I know, you were great during the Livestream. You did it Phichit!

Phichit Chulanot: no
Phichit Chulanot: dude
Phichit Chulanot: I won the bet

Yuuri Katsuki: No you didn't? You only got a 169.67?

Phichit Chulanot: (Picture Attachment Sent)
Phichit Chulanot: see
Phichit Chulanot: I win
Phichit Chulanot: I hope you like clothes that smell like hamsters

 

The selfie Phichit took with Victor left Yuuri speechless. Even though Yuuri had been a fan for so long, and had gotten the opportunity to see him perform a few years ago... It was just so different to see his best friend in a picture with Victor, smiling at Victor and competing against Victor. The picture reignited a fire in Yuuri's soul that saw Victor as the pinnacle of figure skating: his ultimate goal.

The new motivation carried Yuuri back to Miyagi for the NHK Trophy, and a surprising 5th place. Of course, it wasn't a medal, but Yuuri had managed to hold his own against some of the best skaters in the field after originally not even being seeded for the Grand Prix series. What Yuuri wouldn't have given to be at the Grand Prix Final though; this year it was being held in Fukuoka, where Yuuri could have been representing Japan right there at home. However, being able to watch Victor win his fourth consecutive Grand Prix Final gold, in all HD and perfect replays, was a close second.

When late December came, so did Japanese Nationals. Before, Yuuri had no expectations of ever being able to make the national team, or being able to represent Japan at Worlds or Four Continents or even...

Next season, Sochi was the goal. Not even just for the Olympics — but for the Grand Prix Final. Yuuri's fourth place finish at Japanese Nationals left an unpleasant hunger and ache within him, and a sense of unfinished business as he saw his teammates that only scored 3-8 points higher than him going on to face the world.

As Yuuri's "off-season" began, so did his real course load. After taking a semester off, Yuuri overloaded himself with 19 credit hours to give him a glimmer of hope of being able to graduate next December. The 19 hours plus his 20 hours of training each week was terrible, but it produced results, so Yuuri couldn't really complain.

He trained like hell to get his Quad Toe Loop consistent, and pushed himself even farther and further until he could attempt a Quad Salchow. Yuuri even took three dance classes on top of his already hellish schedule. Ballet, of course. Modern, to give Yuuri more diversity and emotion in his movement and steps. And... Aerobics. The hands-on kind of exercise stretched and trained Yuuri's muscles in a way he had never felt before. After his very first class, he could feel an intense difference in the way he could spin and use his flexibility on the ice.

Towards the end of May, after Victor had won his fourth consecutive World Championship, and after the spring semester was over, Celestino brought his boys together for a celebratory hot pot dinner.

“You both had such remarkable improvement this season. Now, I personally have some ideas for your upcoming seasons — but I want to hear your goals first.”

Phichit and Yuuri looked at each other for a second before exchanging a glance that Phichit knew meant that it was his turn.

“Well, I just want to keep making history for Thailand! I’m still learning and growing, and there are so many opportunities for me this season — especially with the prospect of the Olympics!” Phichit was all bubbly energy and sure-fired confidence, which was a stark contrast to the curious but still anxious stature Yuuri exhibited.

Celestino nodded in contentment before responding. “Mhmmm, that is definitely a good place to start, Phichit. I would say that we wait for the Grand Prix assignments until we finalize our plan for this year, but I definitely believe you will get at least one Grand Prix assignment with your new qualifying scores. Second; I think that it’s time we start training your quads. We don’t have to put them into your programs yet, but building up your strength will help you on the ice even without the added jumps, and we will have the opportunity to get more points once we can add them.”

“Lastly,” Celestino continued, “you mentioned the Olympics. Now that Worlds are over, we know how many spots are still open and up for grabs. There are only six Olympic spots left for Sochi, but I believe if you work hard enough, you could win Thailand’s first Olympic Figure Skating qualifying spot at the Nebelhorn Trophy. We will have to see from there, but if you put your mind to it Phichit, you can write your own history.”

Phichit’s eyes glowed at the increasing opportunity and praise, and even Yuuri believed that he could do it. But for him, believing in himself was a whole different issue. After a moment of spacing out into his own thoughts, Yuuri realized Celestino was waIting for him to contribute his goals.

“W-well, I felt pretty good about this past season... and I think first I want to land a program with two quads.” Yuuri paused for a moment to gauge how crazy he might have sounded to Celestino. When there was no real reaction besides a nod, he continued.

“And I accomplished my goal of getting two Grand Prix assignments this past year, and I think I should raise the bar. I want two Grand Prix assignments, and real assignments. I want to place at my events — and I want to go to Sochi to represent Japan at the Grand Prix Final. I want to compete against Victor Nikiforov on the same ice.”

Guess what? Again, I had too many notes, and they didn't fit in the actual notes, so here we go: 

Chapter notes:

• 1) World Juniors was held February 24-28, 2009 in Sofia, Bulgaria.
• 2) Russian championships were December 24-29th. Europeans were January 20-24th. Worlds was held March 24-28th.
• 3) At the 2009 World Junior Championships, Yuzuru Hanyu was the only Japanese representative, and he placed 12th. Which, incidentally, was where I was going to place Yuuri even before I looked it up.
• 4) The 2009 World Championships determined how many competitors each country could enter into each discipline at the 2010 Olympics in Vancouver. Russia and Japan both earned 3 spots on the 2010 Olympic team thanks to Andrei Lutai and Sergei Voronov for Russia, and Takahiko Kozuka and Nobunari Oda for Japan.
• 5) Russia did not send a third representative to the 2009 World Championships, because Russia was kind of in a figure skating drought after Plushenko took a hiatus from 2006-2008 to treat some injuries. 
• 6) Labral Tear: one of the more common hip injuries resulting from figure skating. Arthroscopic surgery: if a tear does not heal itself, this is the the recommended treatment. It is performed using a fiber optic camera inserted through the skin to sew the laberum back together.
• 7) Especially around this time period, the Russian Skating Federation was kind of known for overlooking their skaters' health issues, and not standing up for their athletes during controversy. 
• 8) The 2008-2009 Russian Nationals were held in Kazan, Tatarstan, Russia. It is approximately 1524.6 km from St. Petersburg.
• 9) So there is a University of Michigan bus that takes commuter students to and from Detroit called the Detroit Connector. It technically was founded in 2013, but that's a detail we are going to over look so that Yuuri can live and train in Detroit, and still go to UM (probably only on certain days though). 
• 10) "B Internationals" are lower-level, senior-level international competitions that aren't usually included in ISU scores, but may be used for rankings. Competitions such as to NRW Trophy and the Nebelhorn Trophy are examples, except when the Challenger Series was formed in 2014, those competitions are placed above other Bs but under Grand Prix competitions.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: "It's On."

________________________________

"I want to compete against Victor Nikiforov on the same ice."

While Yuuri's own words from the end of last season might have given him a much needed kick in the pants, they also haunted him and hung over his head like a silvery gray cloud. It was one thing to have goals, but it was an entirely different odyssey trying to reach them. 

Not only was Yuuri trying to maintain his competitive standing as an international figure skater, but he was also trying to graduate. After 5(ish) years of an erratic class schedule, Yuuri had finally managed to earn enough credits toward his degree to where he could finally finish in one last semester. That is, if he could pass the insane 21 credit-hours he was taking during the Spring/Summer half terms. How Yuuri thought he could easily take 7 classes over the course of 2 months while training his Quads and practicing 2 new programs for the upcoming Olympic season, he had no idea. Luckily, aside from exams, Yuuri could practically live at the rink as long as his laptop was connected to the wifi to do his coursework during breaks. It was a lot, but if he somehow managed to pull it off, he would be rewarded with an easy 12 credit-hour, mostly online, semester that would set the perfect stage for the Grand Prix and Japanese Nationals. With graduation in December, he would have a completely open schedule for Japanese Nationals, and hopefully a spot on the Olympic or World Team. 

Ever since his last season had ended at Nationals, Yuuri had barely done anything besides skate and study. However, unlike in previous years, Yuuri now had a partner and a friend in Phichit. Night after night, the two boys found themselves being forced to leave the rink when it was closing time — even if they weren't ready to leave. For Yuuri, the ice was a sanctuary: a stress reliever, an outlet, and a reminder of everything he had set out to do. For Phichit, the ice was uncharted territory. Sure, he had practically grown up on skates, and made the life-altering decision to move 7000 miles away from home just to skate.  But Yuuri was always five steps ahead of him — and Phichit found himself constantly striving for more. Sure, Phichit wanted to make history as a Thai figure skater (and really wanted to live out his King and the Skater fantasy); but Yuuri also made Phichit want to skate harder and for longer. Of course, a good amount of Phichit’s time at the rink was still spent scrolling through social media on his phone while Yuuri futzed around on the ice, but Phichit's ever-changing motivation grew stronger and stronger because of that enchanting Japanese boy. 

Around the end of April, Celestino finally broke down and made copies of the rink keys for each of his skaters, because god damn was he tired of their combined puppy-dog pouts when he had to tell them to leave each night. The coach made the two boys promise that they would not step on the ice if there was not at least one other person there to watch them or call for help if someone got hurt. However, besides that one concern, his skaters' work ethic and drive managed to put a smile on his face, because they were to each other what he himself could not be for either one of them — a friend, rival and motivator.

From that night on, Yuuri and Phichit could be found out on the ice every night, without fail, until at least midnight (if not 1 a.m.). Albeit there for practice, Phichit worked best by spacing his ice time out in order to not feel like he was dying every time he attempted a full run through. Yuuri, however, was a stamina monster. He could go on practicing (and falling) his Quad Salchows for what seemed like hours at a time, only to glide around the ice, improvising new step sequences for another hour, before moving onto his Quad Toe Loops and Triple Axels. All without even a 15-minute break.

One night, when Yuuri seemed to be aimlessly agonizing over a few 8-counts of steps, Phichit decided to ask his friend about the new patterns he was skating into the ice. (And Phichit was also definitely not procrastinating his own practice)

"Hey Yuuri!" The Thai boy called out from just outside the rink, "Whatcha workin' on?"

The sudden call for attention broke Yuuri out of his trance, and almost caused him to lose his balance and fall to the ice. He then looked over to the side where Phichit was leaning on the boards, phone still in his hand and an amused look plastered on his tan face. "Huh?"

To that, Phichit rolled his eyes and re-asked the question. "I meant what choreography are you working on? Is that Ciao Ciao's?” 

Unlike Yuuri, Phichit already had both of his programs ready and done. To take a load of stress off of the young skater's shoulders, Celestino suggested that they keep his West Side Story short program from the 2012-2013 season, with a few modifications. But since it was an Olympic season, Phichit had wanted to show off his prowess as a Thai skater. With the help from a professional dancer from Bangkok, they had choreographed a Khon inspired, traditional Thai "drama dance" entitled '"Ramakien". It was a really fun and colorful program, and even though Phichit had heavily suggested King and the Skater (read as: begged ), he still enjoyed the program. The flavor and spice and brightness that the music and choreography emanated basically screamed Phichit Chulanot. However, since Phichit had already had these finished since mid-April, his anxiety levels skyrocketed every time that he realized Yuuri still didn't have either a Short Program or Free Skate finished yet. 

Rather than answer the question, the skater in question immediately became flustered and tried to avert the Thai boy's pointed questioning. "What? I-I'm not working on any choreography, I'm just... blowing off some steam... since I still can't land my Salchow..." At that admission, the older skater turned his attention to the scratch-covered surface of the ice, hoping to cover the embarrassment on his face with the shadows from his shaggy hair. “So this is kinda like a break for me...” 

While it was true that Yuuri had yet to properly land a Quadruple Salchow, Phichit also knew that he had been practicing the same 40-60 counts for days now, and it honestly looked better and cleaner every single time he did it. "Really? Because whatever it is you're skating looks really good, and it should definitely be in one of your new programs. You should show Coach and ask him if you can skate it!" Phichit gave Yuuri no room to counter his claim. "I can even introduce you to my friend who has helped me with my own music before. I'm sure she would love to write something for you — she was honestly upset that I haven’t asked her to write something for me to skate to yet."

At the new suggestion, Yuuri's large eyes widened, with wonder pulsating through them. Because if Victor choreographed all of his routines himself, and had custom music made for each piece...

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Ketty Abelashvili was a junior music performance major with a minor in music composition, whom had apparently become acquainted with Phichit when he had pointedly ignored her use of headphones while working on a project in a coffee shop. But as everyone knows, when Phichit sees something that interests him, it is literally impossible to not get him to act on his impulses. Which for Ketty, meant that she became victim to a sneak attack from an excitedly screaming Thai boy who had at least 50 questions about how to cut music.

Somehow from that, Phichit managed to create a friendship with her, which was based mostly off of music, and his unapologetic love of small talk and gossip. Ketty had even helped Phichit crowdsource some Thai instrumentalists for his Free Skate music, and she even helped cut the whole thing too. However, Phichit had still never asked her to write a song for him to skate to. 

But until now, Phichit had never had a real reason to seek out her expertise. So, the Thai boy gave Yuuri her number, and tried to help his friend not waste his entire skating season. 

Yuuri was apprehensive, but not just because of all the stress that came with choreographing his own Short Program. Yuuri was apprehensive because he would have to ask Celestino if he could, and Yuuri's anxiety was not his friend on this matter (or ever).

Finally, about a week later and after Ketty and Yuuri had texted back and forth about some ideas/requirements for the music, Yuuri had worked up the courage to ask Celestino about his program. The coach had already come to Yuuri a few weeks back to pitch the Carnival of Animals to him for his Free Skate, and they had agreed it would be a good fit. Since they had just recently talked about his Free, so it wouldn’t be weird to ask about his Short, right...? 

With a gulp and a deep breath, he left the ice. Yuuri tentatively called out: “Celestino...?” 

The large Italian man, who had previously been sitting on a bench looking over a binder that was full of notes and figures, looked up at the young skater with a cocked eyebrow and asked, “What is it, Yuuri?” 

Yuuri had to take another deep breath before heading closer to his coach, because without it, his flight instinct would have prevailed. 

“Coach, I was wondering if I could show you something I was working on? Phichit was watching some steps that I choreographed, and suggested that I should show you,” His voice got a few decibels quieter before he continued, “O-or maybe that I could help make my own program...?” 

Celestino’s face lit up at the suggestion, and a hearty laugh filled the mostly empty rink. “Oh ho, what a refreshing suggestion Yuuri! Do you have any music in mind?” 

At that, Yuuri stiffened, since he didn’t actually have anything tangible to show him or have him listen to. “I actually have a friend who is writing some music for me...” Just before he let Ciao Ciao interject, Yuuri jumped and quickly added more. “B-but I also have some other ideas if that doesn’t work out!” 

The coach knew that tone of voice and demeanor change well. Yuuri’s lack of confidence was obvious in almost everything he did, and this was no exception. “Well, let me know when the song is finished. I can’t sign off on it until I hear it, but this is a new and exciting idea — especially for you, Yuuri!” By the end, Ciao Ciao had a boisterous laugh-like tone to his voice; it was originally supposed to portray his own excitement, but also to encourage Yuuri to keep divulging more ideas.

It didn’t work. 

At his coaches stipulation, Yuuri nodded before quickly heading back onto the ice. His voice and confidence needed some time to recharge before he could keep talking about his ideas. What he had said about the other songs was true; Yuuri always kept a list on his desk of possible songs he could use in a program. The only problem, was that even though it was an exhaustive list, none of the songs were right. Most were even crossed out because somebody else always managed to steal his un-voiced ideas by the next competition. 

Some pieces of music were good skating pieces, but they didn’t fit Yuuri’s style. Others were soundtracks to movies that he had heard, and even though they were great, he couldn’t really see them in either a short or long program. Even more of the songs on that list were “original” ideas that popped into Yuuri’s head, only to have his bubble burst the next season when someone else debuted the same music for their skate. And Yuuri’s stubborn pride meant that he couldn’t even fathom the idea of copying someone else’s music. What was left on the list still left him uninspired; Yuuri just hoped that in case he had to pick one of those pieces, that Celestino could see a vision that Yuuri couldn’t.

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Under any other circumstances, Yuuri would have been an absolute WRECK. However, his nerves were luckily on vacation until Phichit decided to bring them back with an almost blood-curdling screech at 2 a.m. Apparently, Yuuri had forgotten that the ISU was releasing the Grand Prix assignments today.

Apparently, both Celestino and Phichit had both decided it was a good idea to “forget” to mention that the Grand Prix assignments were coming out soon, so that Yuuri wouldn’t be a nervous wreck and ruin any progress he had managed on his Free Skate. Luckily, Phichit had a pretty good hold of his own nerves, and didn’t have high expectations for his own placement. After all, he could always be assigned a competition later in the season once his scores improved.

“YUURI YUURI YUURI WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP” Phichit’s screaming was punctuated by him jumping onto Yuuri’s bed. Even though they didn’t share a room like they would have in a dorm, sharing an apartment and being roommates with the Thai boy made it impossible to keep him out of any private spaces.

“Phichit... what on... earth...?” Yuuri groaned as he groggily rubbed his eyes. Giving up on speaking, he quickly reached for his glasses that normally lived on his bedside table. However instead of finding them, he was suddenly accosted by Phichit pushing the wire frames onto his face (because of COURSE he had already grabbed them). The first thing Yuuri could register seeing, was the sudden bright light from Phichit’s phone screen which burned itself into Yuuri’s retinas and blinded him momentarily.

After blinking a few times to readjust to the concept of "light" and "seeing", Yuuri focused on the weird looking web page that was pulled up. When the words “Yuuri Katsuki, JPN” vaguely registered in his head, the Japanese boy shook his head and took the phone from where Phichit was holding it up.

His eyes widened behind his glasses as he scrolled through the list of skaters names, quickly realizing what Phichit was showing him.

“Th-These are the —”

“THE GRAND PRIX ASSIGNMENTS!” Phichit interrupted before he could finish. The Thai boy plucked the phone from his hands, and diligently scrolled to whatever part of the list that he had wanted to show his friend, and then thrust it back towards him. “Look!”

And look he did. Yuuri’s eyes scanned the words on the phone in front of him before all of the breath left his body and he had to take in a huge gasp of air.

Skate America (Detroit, Michigan)(October 18-20, 2013)
Yuuri Katsuki
JPN

And

NHK Trophy (Tokyo, Japan)(November 8-10, 2013)
Yuuri Katsuki
JPN

Yuuri could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, and even if his hand hadn’t ended up covering his mouth, he would barely have been able to find the words if he had tried. Luckily Phichit spoke fluent Yuuri — probably better than anyone — and flung his arms around his friend.

”You did it Yuuri! You got assigned to two Grand Prix events!” After a few prolonged moments in the hug, Phichit pulled back with a huge grin on his tanned face. “And I’m joining you at the NHK!!!!”

This time, Yuuri was the one to tackle Phichit in a monster hug. Even through the tears which were streaming down his face, his smile was undeniable and so was the pride in his voice. “We did it Phichit!!!”

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The next morning, after Yuuri finally got some sleep (since Phichit apparently couldn't have waited until daylight to freak out about the Grand Prix assignments), it finally sunk in. Yuuri had earned himself two Grand Prix assignments — and two chances to earn a ticket to the Grand Prix Final.

Even Phichit had earned one — plus, since Yuuri was assigned Skate America which was being held in Detroit, Phichit would get to watch and support his friend. Maybe, if Celestino would let them, Yuuri could even sneak one of his ice/kiss-and-cry passes to Phichit so he could stay with him throughout the competition. 

The two boys had even joked about driving to St. John to go watch Victor compete at Skate Canada since it was only like... 18 hours away by car... (Which was closer than the Trophee Eric Bompard. Or any other Grand Prix event for that matter.)

But that reminded Yuuri of Victor — who neither of which were competing against in the Grand Prix series. It also reminded Yuuri of his ballsy promise from before the season began: 

"I accomplished my goal of getting two Grand Prix assignments this past year, so I want to raise the bar. I want two Grand Prix assignments, and two REAL assignments. I want to place at my events — and I want to go to Sochi to represent Japan at the Grand Prix Final. And — I want to compete against Victor Nikiforov on the same ice."

While Yuuri had definitely accomplished his first goal of getting two "real" Grand Prix assignments, he somehow felt even further away from his ultimate goal. Technically, not being assigned to compete against Victor was a blessing, since he definitely had a better shot at medaling... but now the work behind the goal of "competing against Victor Nikiforov on the same ice" was real and he had to do it in order to achieve that goal. So in a way, Yuuri would have almost been relieved to have the same Grand Prix event as him. At least then he could have gotten his shame over with quickly. 

But it was because of that memory and this goal that Yuuri felt a fire burn in his throat and stomach. It was a feeling and a drive that he knew well, and Yuuri knew exactly what was required to quench that feeling.

So Yuuri sat down, pulled out a small yellow notebook covered in cartoon suns and hearts, and began to write. 

(If the link does not load, here it is)

Yuuri quickly folded the yellow paper in half after he signed his salutation, before pulling out a matching decorated envelope from his stationary drawer. After addressing it to Victor Nikiforov, stamping, sealing and absent-mindedly writing his own address like normal, Yuuri stuck a small sun sticker onto the triangle on the back of the envelope. Without even a second thought, Yuuri ran to their apartment's mail center and dropped the envelope into the mail slot. 

If Yuuri hadn't managed to mail that letter right in that moment, there was no guarantee that his confidence would have lasted long enough to send that letter. 

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After the high of reaching both of their preliminary goals had worn off, the two skaters began using that momentum to push themselves even harder through the rest of June to perfect their respective routines.

However, it wasn’t until the middle of June that the music for Yuuri’s short program was done. 

Ketty and Yuuri had met on and off to discuss the music, and overall it had been a pretty collaborative process. What Yuuri had asked for was a piece of music to encompass his skating career as a whole.

From that "vision", Ketty requested videos and recordings of Yuuri's best and most iconic skating pieces from his Junior days up until now. Of course, Yuuri being the unreliable narrator of his own story, couldn't even manage to claim any real success or examples of who he was as a skater without having Phichit or internet articles speak up for him instead.

The composer also asked what requirements there were for a short program. Such as: how long the music had to be, where Yuuri wanted to put his jumping passes and spin combinations, as well as other high points in the music. Even though Yuuri had been skating and dancing his whole life, and he knew what kind of music and sounds made for good jumping music and spins... it was still so impossible for him to vocalize and articulate that feeling he had. For him, skating and music were emotions and feelings, rather than just a tangible checklist of requirements and rules.

Despite all the difficulties they had in honing in on Yuuri's vision, Ketty still managed to finish composing and recording the piece for Yuuri on time. When she called him, both excitement and anxiousness were present in her voice. Obviously, she was excited to finally have finished the piece, but she was also consumed by the doubt of whether or not her music was good enough.

The two sat in silence at a coffee shop while Yuuri listened to the piece through Ketty's professional headphone set. He listened once, twice, three times all the way through; each time, trying to recognize and place his jumps, spins and all of the choreography that he had designed.

It really was a nice song. The piece Ketty had created hit every single checkpoint he had asked for, and Yuuri could even hear the slight references to his previous programs such as Waterfall and Lohengrin. 

But... it was soft. The contrasts weren't contrasting enough. Sure, Yuuri could skate to it — and probably do well. But would it really make the impact he was looking for...?

The song didn't sound wrong either. In fact, it was incredibly pleasant and soothing, and practically perfect for skating. So Yuuri still didn't know why it still sounded... so... off...

To the best of his ability, Yuuri profusely thanked Ketty, and offered to pay for her coffee and buy her a pastry as a token of his gratitude. On his way out, the skater grabbed the burned CD from her, and tried to steel his nerves as he headed off towards the ice rink to show the song to his coach. And hopefully, get his approval. 

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That night at the rink, Yuuri could barely handle the anxiety coursing through his veins. His skin was buzzing and his veins were burning hot and it made him shake like a little nervous Chihuahua. This didn't help his jumps at all. Yuuri fell even on his signature Triple Axels, and under-rotated triple jumps that he could normally do in his sleep.

Finally, after what was probably his fourth fall in a row, Celestino called for Yuuri to come to the boards.

"So, Yuuri. What's bugging you? And don't reply with 'nothing', because you don't fall on your Axels unless there is something on your mind."

Yuuri shrunk from the scrutiny of his coach, which was sadly pinpoint-accurate. Once again, the Japanese boy took a deep breath in a futile effort to steel his nerves. 

"Well... I actually wanted to show you the music that me and my friend have been working on... for my Short Program... She just finished it today."

The taller man raised a bushy eyebrow at his skater's request. He had mainly focused on Yuuri's Free Skate with him for the past month, and aside from some random choreography and other ideas from the Japanese boy, Ciao Ciao had almost forgotten about Yuuri's idea to compose his own Short. But, if he didn't say that he was intrigued, it would have been a massive understatement. 

With a curt nod from his coach, Yuuri quickly ran to the bench where his bag was, and procured his laptop, the CD and a pair of headphones. As he inserted the CD and handed it to his coach, he could barely stop his hands from shaking. 

What was he going to do if Celestino didn't like the music? What was he going to tell Ketty after they had worked so hard on it? And even if  Celestino agreed to use the music, how was Yuuri going to handle choreographing an entire Short Program?! What was his program even going to be titled — and what was he even going to wear for it —

Yuuri was brought out of his panic-stupor by a small tap on his shoulder. He looked down to see Ciao Ciao sitting on the bench in front of him with a slight smile on his face. However, that smile looked more compassionate and appreciative than excited — and Yuuri's fears and anxieties began working their little gears to the bone.

Ciao Ciao began, "It's a nice song Yuuri. Not bad, especially for a student work." He then shrugged, and pulled the earbuds out. "I can see bits of choreography that you have shown me fitting in with the music..." Celestino diverted his gaze back to the ice, with a kind of conflicted look on his face. 

Before Celestino could continue, Yuuri had already heard enough from that non-commital response to know that his coach had obviously HATED it. And so, Yuuri became a blubbering mess.

"N-Never mind.... Listening to it again, I don't really think I like it either... I only got the music today anyways, so it's not like I finished choreographing it or anything..." Of course, Yuuri decided to omit the fact that he had been working on choreography almost every night over the last month, and was probably close to having a full program. "So let's just do something else. Please choose my music for me, Coach Celestino."

The Italian man just sighed and nodded; he really had hoped that Yuuri would stick up for his own piece, even if it wasn't the best. Sure, there were probably better songs suited for Yuuri, but if he had just had the confidence and drive to push himself and that song farther, it could have been a show stopper. What Celestino had really used as a test, was to see if Yuuri believed in his music — because if he believed in himself, Celestino would have supported it 110%.

In the end, Yuuri gave into his nerves and gave up on Ketty's piece. After a few meetings and discussions about music with Ciao Ciao, and after skimming Yuuri's 80+ song list, the pair eventually decided on a mix of songs from the Japanese movie, Spirited Away. Even though it hadn't originally been Yuuri's first choice, both had agreed that since it was a Japanese composed song, from a popular Japanese movie (which had garnered international fame and success), and also alluded to themes of classic Japanese mythology and culture, that it would be a strong choice for his Olympic season. 

Leading up into September, Yuuri became so busy and retreated back into his introverted shell because of the stress. Summer had been difficult in between finishing his finals and his research projects, as well as rushing to finish BOTH his Short Program and Free Skate. Even once classes started on September 3rd, Yuuri still didn't have any time to breath because his first competition of the season was less than 10 days away. 

He hadn't even been able to bring himself to admit to Ketty that he wouldn't be using her piece for competition until literally the day he left for Salt Lake City. Even then, he couldn't even manage more than one text saying:

Hey, thank you so much for the music and all of the hard work you put into it. But my coach decided that we should go in a different direction for my program this year. 

What a coward. Yuuri knew he was being rude to her, but at least he was decent enough to tell her. Instead of just continuing to avoid her. Which was what Yuuri would have normally tried to do, but after several days of nagging from his roommate to finally tell her, Yuuri's anxiety broke enough for him to write a 35 word text. 

At least with that text, that weight had been lifted off his shoulders just as Celestino, Phichit and his plane took off for the US International Classic in Utah. It was both Yuuri's and Phichit's first competition of the season. Even though their flight had boarded at an ungodly hour of the morning, it was still probably the best way either boy could ask to start their season. Not only would they have both their best friend and coach there to support them, but flying domestically within the United States was so much cheaper than international travel. 

The group had gotten to DTW at around 6 that morning, and if Yuuri had not literally lived with Phichit and been with him for the entirety of their time at the airport, he would have bet good money that the Thai boy had snuck 6 cups of coffee without him knowing. There was no way on earth that anyone was naturally that perky and energetic at 8 a.m. without having either consumed at least 48 oz of coffee, or having made a deal with the devil.

Their flight to SLC luckily didn't have a layover, but it was still going to last over 4 hours. Which, was never a fun amount of time to be stuck on an airplane or in a seat. Cursed with unyielding energy, Phichit bugged Yuuri for probably a half hour with typical airplane games and questions until the Japanese boy finally yielded, and let the Thai play his copy of "The King and the Skater". The movie was abnormally long, and lasted for over 2 hours; combined with the usual 15-20 minutes of discussion and pining from Phichit about how badly he wanted to skate to this music once the ISU allowed lyrics in competition, the flight was somehow already half over. Unluckily however, was that Phichit's energy had apparently ran out, and he ended up passed out on Yuuri's shoulder. Even more unluckily, Yuuri now had more pent up energy than he knew what to do with. 

Stupid, mind-numbing puzzle games on his phone didn't help. Looking at pictures that his mom had sent him of Vicchan didn't help. Listening to music didn't help. And well, all of those attempts had barely even taken up 10 minutes.

Finally, Yuuri resigned himself to going over his programs in his head. Skating was Yuuri's life, and even though it was his main source of stress and anxiety, somehow imagining himself on the ice was relaxing. Or at least, more relaxing than any other way he could think of to pass the time.

Yuuri hit play on his music app, closed his eyes, and quickly lost himself in the space of his imaginary rink. His entire Free Skate consisted of music from Camille Saint-Saens' The Carnival of Animals. It was a lovely collection of music, but Yuuri was just thankful they had opted away from using Cygne or "The Swan", since programs that did always drew comparison to the most famous skaters. Instead, Yuuri's Free Program opened with The Introduction and Royal March of the Lion; this piece made it easy for Yuuri to take advantage of his style of movement as a skater, as well as the composition of the music to draw the audience in. It was also would hopefully make the perfect music to gain speed and ice coverage before he started all of his jumps — almost like a built in warm-up. If Yuuri was going to take advantage of this program and his strengths, especially with his more than shaky quads, he would have to land all of his triples and focus extra hard on the jumps in the second half of his program. 

The next song that melted into the previous was Fossils. This piece's focus was on contrast, and where the majority of Yuuri's early jumps were concentrated. With the speed and character he had built up from the introduction, it made for an easy stress reliever before the real performance began with Aquarium. 

Aquarium was the highlighted piece for his Free Skate, and where his flexibility, gracefulness and steps would come into play. It was a rather risky move to start off so musically engaging, and then transition into a calmer more character piece, but it fit Yuuri, and that's why it would work. The haunting piano trills and strings that sounded like bubbles and kelp forests and giant schools of fish inside of a massive aquarium tank sounded almost tailor-made for Yuuri's style of skating. It wasn't too powerful or intense, but it was still captivating and gave him much room to show off his signature step sequences. The entire mix of songs also allowed for greater contrast of emotion and character, while still not pushing Yuuri too far out of his comfort zone. 

The Finale, while not necessarily the focus of the whole program, was a show stopper. With a back-loaded Triple Axel, and a Triple Axel-Triple Loop combination at the high point of the piano trills, Yuuri knew his anxiety would be running high from exhaustion and the intense music, but it was the only way he was going to get the points he needed. Finally, even from his cramped plane seat, Yuuri could feel the burn and centrifugal force from his final spin combination. With flying sit spins into a side-leaning layback spin that grew into scratch spins that were almost too-fast to be seen by the naked eye, it was an intense finale to any program. But for Yuuri, that ending would be his crowning moment as a skater. 

He had to hit pause on his phone, so it wouldn't immediately start his Short music or break his concentration. No, he needed this time to review all of the important parts of that program and what he could do better next time, even though he hadn't even messed up in his mind. Yuuri then thought about his costume, which was packed with care in his carry-on in case of potentially lost luggage. It was made in a wide array of shades of blue, and consisted of a tight fitting suit-like top which was attached to skin-tight navy velvet skating pants. Rhinestones and glittered fabric adorned the shirt, with swirled ombre appliques as well as bright lapels and a belt which highlighted his figure. The sleeves had small white ruffles at the wrists which highlighted any hand movements in the program, and they matched his undershirt. Which, was a tight fitting white turtleneck that was sewn underneath the suit lapels and featured a small blue-flame embellishment. 

As Yuuri's mind began to wander again, he started to worry about how different he felt about his Free Skate than his Short Program. While The Carnival of Animals was difficult and PACKED to the brim with steps and choreography and jumps, his Short Program was a barren wasteland almost as empty as freshly Zamboni-ed ice. Yuuri knew that technically he would be "fine" because him and Celestino had made sure to include everything he needed: the Quad Toe Loop, his Triple Axel, his Triple Toe-Triple Flip and all of the spins. But choreography wise? Yuuri could barely call it a program. 

Spirited Away might be the death of Yuuri Katsuki. The Short Program, albeit shorter, was rushed. And while yes, there were far less points to be earned in the short, it was still make or break for Yuuri, for whom those scores could mean the difference between a medal and last place. If Yuuri fell on a single jump, he would have no choreography or steps to fall back on, which was the life blood of his program component score. And in the long run, if this program continued to be his Achilles heel, it would mean the difference between Sochi and heartbreak. 

As Yuuri hit play on his phone, and the gentle piano from Joe Hisashi's piece began to flow out of his earbuds, he could feel his heart rate and anxiety increase. Deep down, Yuuri knew that this was going to be a good program, but it just wasn't yet. And that scared Yuuri, because if he failed in Salt Lake City against people who could never even dream of being assigned a Grand Prix event, how was he going to compete against the best in the world? 

Yuuri took in a deep breath and began to focus in on the sound of horns and the crescendo of the music; he knew where each of the jumps was supposed to be, and he knew that he could eat up time by taking longer to enter each jump. He desperately tried to place choreography and steps into the music, however Yuuri had little hope that panic-attack-mid-competition-Yuuri would remember even half of what he came up with, when he hadn't been rehearsing it for the last 3 weeks. 

Since the whole program had been completed in such a rush, the costume that they had designed with the JSF and sponsors had not been completed yet. So instead, Yuuri was borrowing a plain white, kimono-styled draped shirt with slightly billowy sleeves. It looked traditional enough that it would have the same effect, although it definitely didn't fit Yuuri properly. But it it would have to do. 

The music began to repeat from the beginning in a desperate attempt to commit the imaginary routine to memory, but Yuuri's anxiety was still ceaseless. Going over jumping passes for his Short Programs always freaked Yuuri out because he was known for his stamina — not his consistency. And this, coupled with the only 3 jumping passes allowed in the Short meant that Yuuri had to be perfect — or he would lose. Popping his Quad Toe Loop or under-rotating a jump on his combination or falling on his Axel could prove disastrous. 

Luckily, Yuuri was shaken from his growing panic as the plane released its wheels and landing gear, and Team Cialdini began their descent into the Salt Lake City International Airport.

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At the end of the weekend, Leo de la Iglesia of the United States walked away with Gold; Yuuri Katsuki earned Silver; Joshua Farris of the United States rounded off the platform with Bronze; and Phichit Chulanot walked away medal-less in 4th. 

A silver medal was nothing to scoff at, or take for granted — especially when Yuuri's best friend and rinkmate hadn't even placed at all, despite how hard he had trained. Yuuri knew he couldn't complain or let Phichit see his frustration, but god was it hard not to be disappointed.

Yuuri had originally felt so hopeful for this competition and this season. What better way to start off a season than with an easy first Senior gold medal? Well, probably anything, since that hadn't happened. A second place finish felt even worse than last year's bronze because it could barely even be considered an improvement. The 30 point difference that a year made was worthless if it didn't breed actual, tangible results. Who cares if he scored a personal best? The US International Classic was only a B-level international, not a Grand Prix event. Yuuri hadn't even managed to land all his jumps; he popped his Quad Toe Loop at the beginning of his short, and he completely fell on it in his Free (and incurred the mandatory -1.00 deduction) and under-rotated an off-balance Triple Flip halfway through his Free Skate. Needless to say, the US International Classic felt like an International Disaster for Yuuri. 

Normally, early-season competitions like the US Intl Classic were sort of “field day” or “exhibition-like” competitions in order to test the waters with a new program and to get comfortable with performing it in competition. Most skaters would perform a “finished” program that had all of the required elements and jumps, but had a lot of blank space in between that left it looking unpolished and empty. Usually, this gave skaters a chance to focus on the “important” elements and get used to the character and the music. However for Yuuri, who’s most important aspect of his skating IS the “blank space”... early-season competitions were absolute hell.

Yuuri got his score from the PCS. His steps and his choreography and his musicality were what made him a good skater, and it usually made up for his wobbly jumps and inconsistencies in technique. So when Yuuri had to take the ice with an empty Short Program, anxiety erased any semblance of muscle memory he had. The program was entirely rushed, and after he fell on his Quad Toe Loop, Yuuri barely managed to even attempt his next two jumping passes. And if Celestino tried to get him to watch a recording of that skate, Yuuri would rather have his contacts turn inside out than watch whatever sad attempt of a program he had performed. Just imagining whatever desperate and anxiety-ridden face he had probably worn was enough to make Yuuri nauseous. It amazed Yuuri that he had even managed to make it onto the podium.

How was he supposed to compete against Victor Nikiforov if he couldn't land his jumps, couldn’t sell his programs and couldn't even win one gold medal?

This competition was supposed to be an easy lead in to the Olympic season and was supposed to give Yuuri a much needed boost of confidence. However, it only heightened his own worries and personal fears. That silver slivered into his mind and sliced the threads of strength he was so desperately trying to grasp onto. 

The plane ride home back to Detroit was rather uneventful, as Phichit was uncharacteristically quiet. Yuuri's stress from competition had also combined with his overwhelming exhaustion from before they even left Michigan the first time, and he could finally get some much needed rest on the plane.

Yuuri dejectedly welcomed the thick industrial air and smoggy weight of Detroit, as him and Phichit walked back to their apartment after Celestino had dropped them off. The only solace the Japanese boy had found in returning empty handed was that it was the perfect distraction-free motivation that he would need to drill his skates into his memory in time for Skate America.

However, a mischievous looking Phichit who returned to the apartment just a few moments later with an arm full of mail, had a different plan for motivating Yuuri.

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For the first time in months, Victor stepped through his own front door to his apartment in St. Petersburg. Even though the small studio apartment was far from what anyone could call a “home”, the silver-haired skater was still overcome with relief to finally be in his own bed, take a shower in his own shower — and finally be alone.

Tours, exhibitions and sponsorship opportunities had filled every waking moment of Victor’s schedule since he left Ontario after claiming his 4th consecutive World Championship. Somehow, he had become something of a celebrity over the past few years, and as such, was invited to every ice show and was paid graciously for every appearance. Whether it was an old friend hosting an exhibition, Stars On Ice asking him to do yet another international tour, or some sponsor paying him to come and model for a commercial or magazine shoot, Victor did it all.

Victor did it all – and he didn’t complain once. Figure skating wasn’t just something he loved anymore, it was his career and it was who he was. To every person on earth, Victor Nikiforov was a 4-time World Champion, 4-time back-to-back Grand Prix Final Gold Medalist, the top contender to take Olympic Gold in Sochi, and a playboy extraordinaire. And while yes, most of those titles were based in fact, each added a new layer to the mask of Victor’s public persona.

Ever the professional, Victor always had a polite smile on his face and posed for every camera. This façade had been built up so high, that almost everything that had made Victor-the-Person Victor, had been buried so deep that it was almost like his original personality had never even existed in the first place.

But it didn’t bother the Russian. He was used to being cold; he grew up on the ice in Russia, which meant the frigid air literally ran through his veins. The cold and frozen numbness that filled his heart whenever he wore that mask or stepped out onto the ice was as natural as breathing by now. His warm, golden poodle was the only light in his life that Victor allowed to shine even through the darkest haze.

Sadly through most of the off-season, Makkachin had bounced around between kennels and acquaintances who had offered to take care of her while Victor was abroad. This meant that without the pile of love and affection that had taken the form of a poodle, Victor had lived in the dark for months.

That mid-August pseudo-chill that crept into Victor’s apartment reminded him of the weather that autumn and the beginning of a new figure skating season would bring. It held an air of nostalgia that vaguely reminded Victor of a home gone long ago. Even through the nostalgia and the exhaustion that came from months of travel, Victor quickly fell back into habit and a natural schedule.

First: pick up Makkachin from the kennel. Second: restock some staple groceries from the store. Third: text Yakov that he had arrived in one piece. Then, pick up the mail from his apartment lobby. It was all easy enough and mind-numbing enough that Victor barely had to give each task a second thought. Finally, after all of his responsibilities were taken care of, Victor finally sat at his dining table among a mountain of mail, pulled out his calendar and put an instant meal in the microwave (because it’s not like the taste mattered, only whether or not Victor actually put food into his body). From there, he could finally organize his life into something slightly resembling a schedule.

After what was probably a solid two hours of organizing his planner with commitments to the RSF and sponsors, his ice time, gym hours and even the hours he could maybe afford to sleep, Victor finally felt comfortable enough to take a break. It was then, that he finally looked at the clock in his kitchen, which read 11:06 p.m. Even though his body clock did not want it to be bed time, Victor knew that if there was any chance of surviving a 5 km run before practice the next morning, he had to force himself to sleep.

As Victor closed his planner and stood up to throw away his trash from whatever flavorless meal he had just consumed, a small blip of yellow hanging out of the stack of mail drew him back to the table. Most of his mail consisted of generic mailers and spam, as well as an unyielding supply of plain white professional envelopes filled with sponsorship offers or other professional inquiries. Which were in a word: boring. But for some reason, that small little yellow corner of an envelope caught his eye. Maybe it was the jet-lag talking, but Victor simply shrugged and decided it wouldn’t hurt to open a bit of mail before bed.

However, when he pulled the envelope out of the stack, the handwriting that Victor had waited for eagerly every time he checked mail was staring directly into his soul. The Russian had to force himself to take in a deep breath because he hadn’t even realized that it had gotten stuck in his throat. The shock of yellow filled his vision, the bright design of suns brought a warmth to his skin and the brightly colored American flag stamp made his heart flutter to life. Without even reading whatever was inside, Victor had been transported back to a simpler time when these letters were all that mattered to him.

Without even a second thought to the return address that occupied the left corner of the letter, Victor tore the envelope open to reveal a matching piece of sunny stationary.

Victor’s eyes scanned the letter in disbelief. It had been almost three whole years since his fan had written him anything more than a simple congratulatory note or well wishes before a competition. But this? This boy was challenging him – this nameless boy, who Victor hadn’t even known was still competing on the senior level until moments before, was challenging the Victor Nikiforov. It exhilarated him.

For the first time in recent memory, Victor no longer felt cold. He could feel the fire beneath his skin and running through his veins, telling him that he needed to get out onto that ice and feel. It made his head race and his body shudder in exhilaration – and it reignited his need to succeed.

While looking back over the letter in his hands and picking up the thin envelope again, a small smile began to form at the corners of Victor’s mouth. It even almost reached up to his eyes, which was a strange and foreign feeling after so many fake smiles. A thin, silver eyebrow arched at the words “Detroit, MI, USA”, and a wave of curiosity and inspiration flooded his senses.

“Detroit… huh…?” Victor said to himself, before heading into his bedroom, and placed the letter on his desk. Just as his fan had failed to include any personal information for almost 3 years, it had been an equally long time since the boy had included a return address for a letter. Even more interesting, was the Detroit part; Victor had been able to surmise that his fan had moved, based on the previous US postage, but he had never known where. This opened a whole new door for opportunity and challenge for Victor.

Quickly consumed by his normal nightly routine, Victor almost forgot about the letter as he went to ready himself for sleep. A quick and hot shower that burned the exhaustion deep from his skin was followed by a lengthy hair regimen of creams and protectants before a light blow-dry. While his hair finished air drying, Victor fell into the rhythm of washing his face, applying moisturizers, brushing and whitening his teeth, and finishing it all off with a serum. Through his sponsorships and TV exposure, Victor had gotten into the habit and luxury of high-end skin care — and honestly, it was probably the only thing that saved his skin from the harsh cold of the ice and the lights which he skated under.

On his way back to bed, Victor grabbed the first pair of flannel pants that he could find in his closet and a warm velvety robe that enclosed the residual heat from his shower into his body. Just as he was about to flop back onto his bed, and let sleep overtake him, Victor was interrupted by a small ruff of a bark. Sitting there in her normal spot on the bed, was Makkachin. Wagging her tail and gently gripping a yellow piece of paper in her mouth. Victor let a light chuckle escape from his mouth as he reached over to take the letter from his thieving dog, who despite her kleptomaniac tendencies, really was too good to Victor. Either she was in a feisty mood after a long few months without her owner, or Victor had accidentally let the letter fall off the desk and onto the floor. Still, it reminded Victor that he still had some unfinished business before he could call it a night.

Taking a detour to his desk, Victor sat in the stiff chair and pulled out his pad of personalized stationary that the Russian Skating Federation had urged him to get for official business. Honestly it felt more like an advertising opportunity for the RSF than for Victor himself, but what could he do. Despite the slightly bitter feeling that filled Victor’s throat when he saw the official Russian Skating Federation logo on his letter head, he still placed the sheet into his printer, and began typing a response on his desktop. 

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(Here is the link if the image doesn’t load: https://imgur.com/gallery/LnHt09V)

Yuuri could feel the thin paper quivering in his hands, making the writing on it practically illegible. He almost didn't even notice the tears beginning to well in his eyes which made things even blurrier behind his thick frames. But even through the blur, the emotions and the disbelief — nothing could change the fact that Yuuri was holding a real letter from Victor NIkiforov in his hands again. 

For the first time since Yuuri had competed at the Junior Grand Prix Final, Victor wrote back. The shock alone made it almost impossible for Yuuri to even open the letter, let alone read it — but the actual words written by Victor himself struck a chord within Yuuri. 

A feeling of panic mixed with exhilaration encompassed Yuuri, and made him shudder. 'Victor Nikiforov might not know Yuuri Katsuki the figure skater, but he knows me. And for some reason, even if it is the tiniest amount, Victor believes in me.' At that thought, Yuuri almost laughed. Because who could really believe that the World Champion, Figure Skating Legend and international heart-throb — Victor Nikiforov — would ever give a dime-a-dozen Japanese figure skating failure the time of day?

Those self-deprecating thoughts brought a bitter taste to his tongue, but somehow it was still overshadowed by the looming hope that made Yuuri's heart flutter. For some reason, even though every fiber of his being knew he could never even hope to compete with the best skater in the world, Victor's words had sewn a small seed of hope in Yuuri's subconscious. Deep down, even Yuuri Katsuki still had to have hope, and the source of that hope was Victor — and it always had been. The hope to someday compete on an equal playing field; the hope to prove himself as one of the best figure skaters in the world; the hope to prove to both Victor and himself that he was worth it. 

Suddenly, a rapidly waving, tan hand appeared in front of Yuuri's face and broke him out of his trance. 

"Earth to Yuuri!! You can't just go spacing out in the middle of opening your mail —" Phichit had to do a double take as his wandering eyes scanned the piece of paper in his roommate's hands. "Wait wait wait WAIT just a minute Yuuri, is that an actual letter from Victor-fucking-Nikiforov in your hands?!" Which resulted in the Thai boy tried to steal the paper from Yuuri.

(Although that plan was quickly thwarted. Because if anyone knows that Yuuri is way stronger and far more stubborn than he appeared to be, it was Phichit Chulanot.)

The younger skater huffed in resignation, pouting at his best friend's AUDACITY to not let him see his secret correspondence with the most famous figure skater alive. Still, his curiosity was piqued. "But holy crap Yuuri. How could you just forget to mention to ME, your BEST FRIEND, that you and Victor NIkiforov write actual letters to each other?!"

The accused skater immediately stiffened and pulled the letter close into his chest, in an attempt to hide from the question. An embarrassed flush appeared across his face and the tips of his ears; Yuuri knew that if he hadn't been wearing a sweater to protect himself from the chilly early-autumn Detroit nights, his entire chest and body would probably colored a similar red. It was uncontrollable, and Yuuri blamed his dad for passing on his genes — but at least he wasn't drunk blushing, which was arguably even worse and far more embarrassing. 

"W-Well, it's not like this is a normal thing..." Yuuri finally managed to say after a few moments of attempting to calm his embarrassment. "You know I write to him sometimes..." To which Phichit nodded, because it was impossible to not know that Yuuri wrote to Victor if you lived with him. And it was even more impossible to not know how obsessed Yuuri Katsuki was with Victor Nikiforov if you have ever talked to him or seen him skate. Regardless, Phichit knew not to pry or poke fun at him, since that would make it infinitely harder to get any juicy details out of his friend.

Yuuri took in another slow deep breath before continuing. "This is the first time he has written back in over 3 years... and I'm just..."

"Freaking out a little bit...?" Phichit thankfully finished, because by the end when Yuuri trailed off, the blush had returned and he started flailing with his hands trying to finish what he was trying to say even though he couldn't form words anymore. 

The Japanese boy released a small sigh of relief and nodded, because he knew his friend understood. It's not like his complete and utter infatuation and idolization of Victor was a secret. Just like Yuuri had to deal with Phichit's The King and the Skater obsession, Phichit had to deal with Victor. But their friendship and dynamic wouldn't be complete without either, so neither boy minded much. 

But with confirmation and what few words Yuuri had managed to get out, Phichit understood. It's not as if he had never seen some of Yuuri's discarded "Victor" letters before; for every sent letter, there were probably 5 more drafts that would forever remain unseen. 

"Well?" Phichit punctuated his question with a full bodied shrug. "Are you actually going to challenge Victor? What did you even say to him? Does he even know that you are, well, you?"

While the barrage of questions was daunting, Yuuri no longer felt as intimidated because Phichit's questions had brought him back to real life instead of the hypotheticals that his anxiety produced. Yuuri just sighed and shook his head in response. "No, he doesn't... but if I can make it to the Grand Prix Final..."

A look of understanding and an almost wicked smirk crossed the Thai boy's face. "Then you can meet him on equal ice."

Phichit's words surprised him, and he looked up in awe at how obvious it was that his friend believed in him whole-heartedly. Even if Yuuri didn't believe in himself, Phichit had more than enough confidence for 3 Yuuri Katsukis on their worst day. The thought brought a shy but genuine and heartfelt smile to Yuuri's face and he nodded in affirmation, with no sense of doubt. 

Then, Yuuri glanced back down at the letter in his hands, and turned to the many photos and memorabilia of Victor that were scattered across the walls. It wasn't until Yuuri locked eyes with one particularly high-quality poster of Victor looking directly into the camera, that Yuuri felt confident enough to speak again. 

"Trust me Victor... It's on."