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Yuuri dragged his hand across his face in exasperation, “Viktor, you have no concept of the damage you did. You went out. You lived your life. You fell in love again. You got married,” he emphasized.
Viktor opened his mouth as if to defend himself, but Yuuri shook his head.
“I'm sorry, but you need to listen right now because you didn't back then, and what I have to tell you is very important to me.”
Viktor closed his mouth and nodded, repositioning his body to let Yuuri know he was listening.
Yuuri sighed. “You were it for me. I fell in love and you were it. I wanted to get married. I wanted to have kids. I wanted to grow old, all with you. When you left, I was lost. I couldn't skate without breaking down. I couldn't be in Hasetsu without seeing you around every corner. Do you know how disorienting that is? To not be able to be anywhere near your family home because your ex fiance left his imprint on everyone and everything there? God, do you even realize that it wasn't just me you hurt? My mother was devastated! She loved you like you were her own son!”
Viktor slowly reached out, “Yuuri, I-”
Yuuri pulled back and growled, “I'm not fucking done yet.”
Viktor snapped back into place, “Of course, I'm sorry.”
“I blocked you on everything. Okay, well, Phichit did, for my own good. I avoided everyone who would let me from the skating community so I would hear nothing about you. I moved to Thailand with Phichit and helped him out with his ice show for a couple of summers. Yuri tried to get me to come out to Moscow and work beside Lilia saying it was the last place I'd run into you,” He chuckled, “I thought that was absurd, but I did go, and he was right. You were nowhere to be found. I loved that job, but I couldn't stay more than a year because I still felt your presence around every corner.”
Yuuri paused, running his fingers through his hair seemingly trying to get his thoughts back into place before continuing.
“A few years went by with me floating around picking up dance gigs until I finally settled here in Shikoku helping with the annual dance festival and teaching classes.”
Yuuri looked Viktor straight in the eye, “How the hell did you find me anyway? I've avoided the limelight after the ice show. I've kept quiet, basically became a ghost after my skating career ended. Only my family, Phichit, and Yuri know where I finally settled. I’ve even avoided Chris, which I do regret a bit. I wouldn’t even let Phichit tell Guang Hong or Leo, and I know Sara tried for a while before giving up.”
Viktor waited to see if Yuuri had anything else to say before he took a deep breath and replied, “It wasn’t easy. You are a very well kept secret, Yuuri, but I followed any trail I could find. It took me a while because your friends value your privacy and opinion, and as you said I was blocked on all accounts. Even the tabloids had nothing on you.”
Smiling, Viktor continued, “Phichit actually blocked me too, for a while. After he started showing up in my feed again, I scoured his page for traces of you. However, unlucky for me, his loyalty to you outweighs his love for social media.”
Viktor looked at Yuuri and watched as tears ran down his face, but they weren’t the tears he was used to from the anxiety riddled man. Yuuri’s eyes had taken on an icy look. If Viktor didn’t know better, he’d say they were full of disdain. It made him flinch.
“Why bother?” Yuuri spat out, “You breaking up with me seemed like a pretty clear message to me that you didn’t care.”
Viktor thought back ten years ago to their break up.
Yuuri wasn’t dealing with the transition to Russia as well as Viktor had hoped. He got along quite well with Yuri, but didn’t feel as comfortable with the other Russian skaters. The Russian language was tricky for him to pick up, and he stopped going out as often as a result, afraid that he’d get lost.
That situation put a strain on their relationship as it felt like Yuuri would only do things if Viktor was involved, but Viktor was exhausted 24/7 from trying to make a comeback while still coaching Yuuri. He backslid into how he used to be, ignoring his life and love in favor of the ice.
It worked for a season, but the cracks in their relationship’s foundation had already formed, and Viktor wasn’t willing to put in the work to fix it. Not that Yuuri made it difficult for him to make that decision as he had pulled away from Viktor, and became as timid as he was when they first met. So Viktor walked. Yuuri moved back to Japan. They hadn’t talked since.
“We all make choices we regret, Yuuri. When you moved back to Japan, I thought things would just fall back into the way they were for me before I met you. But they didn't. Yuri was so mad he refused to talk to me for weeks. Yakov acted as he always does, but the look in his eyes told me I disappointed him. The ice stopped calling to me."
Viktor sighed and closed his eyes, the feelings of regret washing over him.
"After a few months, I thought about reaching out, but I couldn't find you. You had even blocked my number. Your family was tight lipped about your location. Mari and Minako actually ripped me a new one. They said it was everything you deserved to say to me, but wouldn’t because you carried too much guilt about it all."
Yuuri looked away, embarrassed.
"They've always been very protective of you. I should have known they'd be angry with me," Viktor inched closer to Yuuri, "Please, Yuuri, I had to try to move forward. Everyone was hiding you from me. I had no choice but to think you were moving on too."
Viktor paused, shooting Yuuri a pleading look.
"You thought after a few months that I was moving on?” Yuuri’s laugh barked out without humor, “It’s like you didn’t know me at all. I guess maybe you didn’t.” The silence between them was heavy. Both lost in their respective thoughts until
“Nobody told me you were looking for me," Yuuri whispered, shoulders slumped in defeat. He took a deep breath, "Look. I need to clear my head and make some phone calls. Feel free to stay here for now. This conversation isn't over."
Viktor watched him walk away and quietly close the bedroom door. Hungry for new information about Yuuri, Viktor took this time exploring the small apartment, noticing all the details showing off the parts of Yuuri he no longer knew.
A knee brace lay on the dining room table. Viktor’s own knee twinged in sympathy. A record player sat in the corner of the room with a small collection of albums Viktor had never heard of, half of them in Japanese.
Turning around his eyes were drawn to the bookshelf; he noticed a small, wooden box sat between a Russian language workbook and a book of Japanese poetry. Looking towards the door, Viktor tried to evaluate how much time he had, when he heard angry Japanese filtering through the closed door. A few minutes then.
He picked up the box and opened it. Inside sat the medals that Viktor quickly recognized as the ones Yuuri had won with Viktor as his coach, a worn, folded up piece of paper, and one half of a pair of matching, golden rings. Viktor glanced up again at the door. He still heard the muffled scolding, so he took a chance and opened up the paper. Viktor recognized his own handwriting.
My darling Yuuri,
Every day you continue to surprise and amaze me. You have made me so proud this season, and I can't wait to see what else we can accomplish together.
Went out to get us some coffee and breakfast so you have energy for your exhibition skate. See you soon.
I love you.
Your Viktor
He remembered that note. He left it for Yuuri the morning after he won gold at the Worlds following Yuuri's silver at their first GPF together. With tears in his eyes he carefully folded the note up and placed the box back on the shelf.
Through the door now, he heard Yuuri yelling in… Russian? He must have kept practicing with Yuri. Viktor pushed down the guilt from eavesdropping, and walked a little closer to the door.
"... could have told me that! Ten fucking years. What the hell, Yurio… I tried. You know I tried! Sorry I couldn’t force myself to… Oh come on, you know as well as I do she wasn’t a good match for me ...Sure... Say hi to Beka for me."
Viktor jumped back and feigned interest in the photos Yuuri had on the wall. There were photos of him with what Viktor could only assume were students. One newspaper front page of him and a group dancing from last year's festival.
Viktor waited, but apparently Yuuri wasn't quite done as he heard quick, low words in Thai now. Viktor was sure now that Yuuri was checking Viktor’s story against his friend's and family's accounts. His phone dinged.
Yuri: You fucked this up once. Don't do it again, old man.
Butterflies burst through his chest. Did that mean that Yuuri…? The bedroom door opened, and Viktor’s head shot up, searching for answers in Yuuri’s body language. Yuuri looked frazzled and angry, but this time not with Viktor. He looked Viktor straight in the eye.
"I have built a life here that I love and do not want to leave. I plan on retiring here." Viktor nodded. "I have a lot of thinking to do, and I don't trust you. How long are you staying?"
Viktor took a deep breath, "I don't have anyone or anything to get back to. I can stay as long or as little as it takes for us to talk through everything."
Yuuri gave a small nod, "Okay. I am going to take tonight. I need time to think, and I suggest you do the same. I am not the same person I was, and I’m never going to be the person I used to be ever again. This conversation we started isn't over. If you want to, come back tomorrow. I'll make breakfast. But please,” Yuuri closed his eyes, “for tonight, I need you to leave."
Viktor agreed, gathered up his things, and left, not without a last, longing glance at the door as it was closing, separating him from the only person he ever wanted to hold on to, but lost because of his own foolishness.
Things weren't fixed, but for the first time in years, Viktor had real hope again. Even if it was just a shot at friendship, he refused to squander his second chance.