latebloomingeros | In another life, I would make you stay [Canon divergence AU PSL for wauuu]

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In another life, I would make you stay [Canon divergence AU PSL for wauuu]

He really did think about quitting after Sochi.

He woke up the morning after the banquet, sort of wishing his head would kill him like it was threatening to, every memory since his short program hazy with heartbreak or outright erased by alcohol, and he lay perfectly still until the moment he knew that he'd have to get on an airplane without showering the spilled champagne off if he waited any longer, just thinking about it.

If he wasn't good enough to do better than this at this age, was he ever really going to be? Was he just going to stick around until his results deteriorated so much that he had to retire?

What was he going to do, when he couldn't skate anymore?

Before the Japanese Nationals, he realized drastic measures were called for. He went home for New Year's, the way a grown child ought to, for the first time in years. He soaked in the hot spring. He cried for hours at the family's butsudan, thinking of Vicchan and how long he'd been away. He ate his mother's cooking, and listened to his father talk about how business had been and the trials and tribulations of his soccer team, and let Minako fuss over him. He sat at the kotatsu with Mari, her reading her magazines and him playing a video game, largely ignoring each other except when one of them needed snacks that had been left closer to the other, and it felt so much like being a kid again that it was somehow more comforting than if she'd embraced him and wanted to talk about everything.

He helped with the big pre-New Years cleaning, and got shooed out of the kitchen while his mother worked on Osechi, and went to the shrine with his whole family, and got his omikuji for the first time in forever...

Daikichi. "Great fortune". Ha, wouldn't that be a good change? His eyes skimmed down the list of more specific predictions -- the person you've awaited will surely arrive, this will be a good year for your luck in love, the hard work you've put into your career will pay off if you stay the course...

All pretty unrealistic, honestly.

But he kept the little slip of paper, and brought it with him. It was in his pocket, when he performed for Yuuko and was struck with the reason for more than a decade of his blood, sweat, and tears -- how much he'd always loved skating, how intensely Victor had inspired him. He kept it with him at Nationals, where he clawed his way to the top in spite of a lackluster performance in the SP, and then at the Four Continents and the Worlds, where the competition was too tough, but he came within a hair's breadth of the podium each time, pushing his personal bests slowly higher and higher.

Still, the thought of retirement was on his mind. He kept avoiding Celestino's questions -- right up until the day that Victor Nikiforov announced his intention to stick around for at least one more season, and it struck him like a bolt of lightning.

Victor would retire soon, one way or another. This could be his last chance to prove himself on the same ice as the idol he'd looked up to all his life and humiliated himself in front of last year. One final shot at redemption in his own eyes.

So he stayed in Detroit when graduation was over, with Phichit and Celestino. He went into training with renewed determination to do better -- to perform, just once, to the best of his potential, and show the world his heart one last time. He stayed up late working out choreography, practiced jumps until Celestino forced him to rest for fear that he'd push himself too far and end up injured...

He threw everything he had at his training, and it paid off in the Grand Prix series. The media have been loving it -- Japan's fallen ace, dragging himself back out of the wreckage of his previous Grand Prix performance, slowly but steadily rising up until he's poised to be a top contender this time?

It's a lot of pressure, honestly, and part of him is afraid it will be enough to make him fall apart again. But he's here now, in Barcelona, ready to give the Grand Prix Finals his all.

The short programs are tomorrow, and everyone's wrapping up their practice for the afternoon. (Practice was a little weird, honestly -- the Russian Yuri seems if anything to hate him even more than he did before, and he's pretty sure Chris actually outright propositioned him three separate times? But his jumps are feeling solid, and that's what's important at this point...) Phichit is talking something over with Celestino, so he's by himself in the locker room as he takes off his skates, wearing the mask of quiet determination that he ends up getting when he's fighting off his nerves before a competition.

As calm as he looks, though, he's a little distant -- easily lost in thought, like he is now, not even seeming to notice the other skaters around him half the time.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Victor picked up another season, he didn't know what else to do. Skating was his life and love, he neglected all other facets of those things, consistently, so he could continue to skate at peak performance and focus.

Yuri had shook his confidence in that decision. "Be my coach!"... Victor had thought about it. He'd really looked for Yuri, after the banquet, but the man went on a media black out and there wasn't anything about the resort Yuri mentioned. Everything online referenced Detroit, Yuri's current coach, he couldn't find the man. Rather, he wasn't willing to go full digital stalker to do it, he had some pride. At some point he figured if his drunk Cinderella wanted to be found, there would have been a slipper left.

He pivoted his focus. If these feelings were going to define him, he'd let it happen, he'd just express it so he could move on. Petty, maybe, but isn't romance just that? It's never entirely selfless. His season was "desire" expressed in two routines, to variants of the same composition. "Agape" a brief, utterly fleeting unconditional love was his short program. "Eros" a lasting, consuming desire of the body, for his free skate. Per usual, it impressed, earning him two silvers to qualify. Silvers weren't good enough, he had to start thinking this could be his final season. Victor Nikiforov would not slip out of the scene on a Silver.]

[He's practicing on the ice with the others, but Yuri is there. Yuri is there and he's only looked in glances.

Victor glides, picking up speed passed the man and going into his quadruple flip. He over rotates on a damn quad, but of course he can't land it. The crash of his blade missing the mark and then his body hitting the ice is loud and painful and he slides until he hits the edge of the rink, getting stuck there.

His eyes are unfocused, he's so damn dizzy, and his expression lacks pain. All that's there is bewilderment. Others are rushing over, but Yuri is closest by far]

[As he starts unlacing his first boot, it strikes Yuuri that something sounds off about the sound of one of the sets of blades on the ice -- too wild, too unfocused. Yuuri looks up, hoping to convince himself it's just his anxious mind playing tricks on him (as usual), just in time to see it.]

[The takeoff to the flip, almost unbelievable power and not enough control. One, two, three, four -- and then, almost impossibly, a little more, a little too much, enough to upset Victor's balance and send him toppling down to the ice. He loses sight of him for a second, but can hear him hit the wall right near him.]

[Yuuri feels his mouth go dry. When was the last time he'd ever seen Victor Nikiforov not stick a landing perfectly?]

[As quickly as he can, he tightens his laces and ties them again. Even with the moment he has to pause to take off his blade covers and fling them aside, he's the first one to reach Victor's side.]

Victor? Are you hurt?

[Please don't let him be injured... There's no pride in the thought, no trace of his desire to compete against Victor -- the clearest thing in his voice is just genuine fear for someone who, even if he'll never know it, has been the guiding star of his life since he was a child.]

[Victor's mind is upside down and his vision spinning back into place. He focuses to see someone skating toward him, not noticing the other figures in the background much. He pushes himself onto one elbow, reaching out and grabbing whatever part of Yuri is closest to grip tightly. His instincts tell him he needs to stand back up, but he's not sure which was is up just yet. He blinks a few times, swallows dryly, and looking Yuri in the face.

For some reason, he can recognize Yuri before he can recognize he's fallen]

H, hi, Yuri... [he blinks] Been a while.

[Yuuri feels his cheeks go a little red. Victor didn't even seem to know who he was last year, what's with that familiar sort of greeting? Maybe he's making fun of himself for managing not to recognize one of five other people in his division after the competition last year, but it still stings a little to be reminded of that day.]

[He can't really hold it against Victor or anything, because honestly, he's acting odd enough that he's a little worried the poor man might be concussed. He leans down to offer him his arm, which seems less likely to end up with them both falling back down than the original approach of grabbing on to his pants leg.]

I... I guess it has, hasn't it. Here, can you stand up?

[There's no blood, and nothing looks broken, but he can't help worrying, anyway. The coaches are all gathered near the edge of the ice right now -- he should get him back to Yakov, he'll know what to do...]

[he'll reach out and grab Yuri's arms, then a rush of realization hits him.

Why the fuck was he on the ice?

Why was Yuri helping him up? He'll yell at the man]

Did I fall!? [there's a collective reaction through the rink, the only person who laughs is Chris]

[Well, now he looks really concerned. Did he his his head hard enough to black out for a second or something? He stays where he is, not making a move towards the edge of the rink even when Victor's properly upright again.]

Um...

W-Well, it's better to do it now than later? It hurts more when it's in competition.

[Hey, if there's one thing he knows more about than Victor does, it's hitting the ice and making a fool of yourself, right?]

[His hands adjust, both grasping at Yuri's arms above the elbows, though it doesn't seem to be to steady himself. He just stares, like he's listening attentively]

You distra-- [he's cut off by Yakov's voice yelling at him, "Vitya! Off the ice! Now!" and he glares at the man] --but, I haven't gotten to talk to--! [Yakov just demands louder, and Victor's expression is utterly torn. For a moment his stands defiantly with Yuri in his grasp, like he'd been waiting for this moment and HAD SOMETHING TO SAY.

It's Chris that slides over, breaking the two up in with no heed to their personal space. He throws Victor's arm over his shoulder, ducking to accommodate their height difference, and directs Victor off the ice. "You need to sit, Victor, let him go..."]

[ Honestly, Yuuri's about to say something to Yakov no matter how much he respects the man's almost unprecedented skill at his job, because if Victor's clinging to him, there might be something wrong with his balance. Of course he needs to get off the ice and sit down and get looked at properly, but there's no sense in rushing him if he needs to be supported to get there! ]

[But then Chris arrives to sweep Victor away -- Chris is closer with him anyway, right? And taller, so it will be easier for him to help Victor move around...]

[Still, selfishly, he feels an odd little sense of loss as Victor is taken away from him. He... He remembered his name this time. It might not have been a thrilling conversation in and of itself, but it was the closest he's ever really gotten to the man -- the closest he's ever likely to. He's not like Victor, after all, known by everyone and beloved by most. He's... forgettable, and should probably just be happy that Victor did even remember who he is.]

[...What a time to be thinking about a thing like that, honestly. Selfish nonsense.]

[He's still got to pick up his blade covers, though, so he skates to the nearest exit, slipping out ahead of them without anyone leaning on him to slow him down. By the time Victor's off the ice, he's long gone -- off to find Phichit and get a suddenly much-needed fit of panic off of his chest.]

[Victor is off to get looked at for the rest of the practice session, getting his ribs and back and ankles inspected for bruising or possible fractures. He gets a clean bill, but he's sore still. Not just his body, but his pride. Doesn't fall for years and then busts his ass in front of the one person he was trying to impress.

Chris insists they get a drink and Victor agrees, wanting the distraction and ritual before competition. He'd shared a drink with Chris before and after many competitions, the man knew what this was all about for him. Victor braces for the teasing he's going to get for falling, knowing it was better to laugh at it than be genuinely upset.

He's at the bar at the right time, waiting by the entrance. Around that time he gets a text from Chris, saying he can't make it, but Yuri and Phichit should be dropping in to keep him company. His eyes spring open from their previously lazy stare.

That changes the evening quite a lot....]

[Yuuri, meanwhile, has told Phichit a thousand times that he doesn't drink before competitions, and Phichit knows very well why -- even putting his caloric intake aside, he can't afford to throw his mental balance off like that! But Phichit's just so hard to say no to when he gets one of those bright smiles, and Yuuri found himself agreeing to come along...]

[Only to get a text when he was about half a block from the tapas place. I'm actually pretty jet lagged -- have fun without me, okay? I told the others you'd be there, so they won't be surprised when you show up or anything!]

[Phichit, you traitor.]

[He pauses, looking at his phone, but he can already see the place -- it seems a little silly to go all the way back to the hotel. And Victor's standing out front, and he'll just be more embarrassed if he's caught trying to literally sneak out of having to socialize with the other competitors...]

[He sighs, pockets his phone, and tries to look as non-awkward as he's... capable of looking as he approaches the bar.]

Victor! You look like you're feeling better...

Yuri! [he laughs, uncharacteristically awkwardly, like he had planned to say something. He thought to say "Been a while"... but....]

I feel terrible! Sorry you had to see that.

[A little too late, it crosses Yuuri's mind that that probably wasn't a great thing to bring up. Falling once isn't the worst thing to happen to a skater on the ice, but it might just be the worst to happen to Victor in a while.]

It's alright, I'm just glad... Coach Celestino said he'd heard you weren't injured or anything, so I'm glad to hear it.

[He looks around a little, not spotting anyone else he knows.]

Is it just us so far? Phichit just texted me to tell me he's too jet lagged to come out tonight...

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