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[personal profile] theglassheart
If Yuri thought the night before this one never ended, he was wrong. It's this newest night that feels like it never ends. Oppressive, pressing, darkness, digging into his eyes, his mouth, his nose, his ears, while Victor breathed heavy and easy in the adjoining bed. Yuri had tried to sleep. Turning this way, turning that way, staring at the backs of his eyelids toward the ceiling, pressing his face into his pillow. He tried and tried and tried (and most of all found himself trying not to let his breathing race so fast it might wake Victor).

The evening had been bearable, if not entirely enjoyable or unenjoyable. Less stressful than the one before it, if only marginally, while Phichit and Victor drug him from place to place. Too late for museums or anything with middaytime, there had been rather quick tours through the Yu Garden, the Oriental Pearl Tower, and the Jade Buddha Temple, and in the cases of closed doors, pictures with their iconic buildings. As well as everything else that looked interesting between them.

It took forever, and then it was just over.

He'd enjoyed some of it, but none of it stuck for long.
Not even the late calls from his family and Yuu-san had.

Not with the Free Skate looming. Not with every single person he was skating with gunning for where he was standing, and every person watching wondering if he could somehow pull out o f himself the miraculous performance that had seemed to come from almost nowhere. Like it hadn't even belonged to him. How many times had he performed Eros and it'd never been that?

How badly would it be when (if - when) tomorrow couldn't match it?
What would they say about him, then? What would they say about Victor, then?

Yuri would fall asleep only to startle awake what could only have been seconds later, nerves sharpening with each new jolt, until it felt like ice was splintering more and stabbing up harder through every part of his veins, until each second asleep seemed to only contain the certainty he would fall, he would fail, he would forget. He could never reach whatever he'd touched for that brief two minutes and eighteen seconds.

It'd been a fluke. He'd only dreamed it. He couldn't explain it. He couldn't sleep.
Every minute in that dark reaching, but, also, clutching his pillow.
Eyelids clenched tight, or eyes open, staring at the other bed.


Over and over, he counted his breaths down.
Over and over, he repeated that he had and he could.
Over and over, he told himself this was all in his head.

Over and over, he slipped right back as soon as it finished.




That morning comes at all only changes the color of the sky.

Breakfast is a blur, piling food into himself, like maybe it would give him any solidness. Weigh him to the seat, to the ground, to reality. It should be impossible, but his head feels even heavier than his body. Hot water had shaken some tension from his skin, but none at all from his mind. It hadn't mattered whether he was in the bed, in the shower, in a booth, at a table.

His foot tapped under the table, all the way up to his knee and thigh, and in the moments he could make himself stop, his fingers drum against the side of his thigh or the seat instead. Desperate to try and keep it from Victor's sight, when Victor won't stop looking at him, smiling like that, talking about how Eros was perfect, and what he should do as soon as they arrived at practice.

How would he look when he realized Yuri couldn't reproduce what he done. Couldn't even look at the things that compounded to get him there. Words Victor'd said, but entirely in a different way than he'd said them. That Yuri'd blown them out of proportion and reality out there, during Eros. What would he do if Yuri couldn't place at all?

What would he do when everyone no longer was cheering his name as the reason Yuri had done so well? When there would only be that gut-wrenching pity on every face and Victor's name was smeared with his failures the same as his already was? Why was he even going to put himself through that? Why was Yuri?





Practice is a comedy of uncertainty.
He doesn't even want to return to the wall and Victor during it.

His feet hardly feel like they belong to his body, and thinking about love doesn't produce his love, his family, Hasetsu, or Victor, it brings up more and more knots in his guts. It tears up the ice under him with images of last year, of every fall, of every day spent in his bed, avoid being awake, avoiding the rink, Celestino, Phichit. The flip of what that could -- will -- look like again.

Except at home. Except with his parents, and Minako, and Yuu-san, and his family.

Their sad faces, their disappointment, as Victor's back went vanishing away in the background of his loss.

Even the ease of his long earned and long loved turns seems to be slipping from him when his focus won't pull itself together. At full speed it makes it a fumble of something he hasn't fumbled in half his life, even if he doesn't fall. It's better the next time, and gone the third, but it still there. He can do this. He can. He's done it how many hundreds and thousands of times.

It makes him sloppy. It makes him reckless. It makes him stubborn. It makes him hesitate.

It ends all too soon. The alarm sounding for them to come in, and he trails in.

Date: 2017-04-07 08:13 pm (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by me (human nature at its best)
From: [personal profile] fivetimechamp
It's not that he's ignoring Yuri, or that it isn't a good question –– it's just that he's already asleep.

Gone like someone swung a pillowcase of bricks at his head, without preamble or warning. In his defense, it might be impossible to do otherwise: even quick against his ear, Yuri's heartbeat is steady and soothing to listen to, and the rise and fall of his chest is hypnotizing, and the small noises of his body working are so quiet and reassuring that Victor never really had a chance.

(Not that he ever did. With any of this.)

Yuri warm and comfortable underneath him. Yuri, who blew the roof off the rink last night, and only needs to remember who he is and what he can do tonight to do the same thing. Yuri, who Victor had to learn to love in a totally new and different and terrifying way, who is letting him lie here like a blanket, and even if Yuri isn't touching Victor, he isn't stopping Victor from touching all of him.

When that's more satisfying than he could ever have imagined a year ago. All of this has been. Is. So much more than he dreamed even possible.

Sending him off to sleep with a smile on his lips and the peace of pure, unbreakable certainty quieting his mind, until there's nothing at all except his soft snores, and the heavy weight of his head on Yuri's chest.

Date: 2017-04-08 02:04 am (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by cherrytini (what if we ruin it all?)
From: [personal profile] fivetimechamp
If he dreams about anything, he doesn't remember it: all he knows is he's closing his eyes and listening to the sound of Yuri's heart beating and the rush of his blood and breath, and then his eyes are opening again in the gloom. It could be any time, but he's never needed an alarm for this, and when he shifts, making a sleepy noise, and lifts his head up off Yuri's chest to blink at the clock, he's right: they have just about an hour before they need to be at the rink, which gives them plenty of time to get changed and make their way over.

He sits up with a sigh, and rubs at his eyes, shakes Yuri's shoulder with his hand as it drops. "Yuri, time to get up. There's time for you to shower, if you want."

He wants one. The only problem with afternoon naps is they leave him feeling flushed and sluggish, and his next yawn is jaw-crackingly huge as he stretches, and gets up off the edge of the mattress to go open the drapes again. Some water –– hot or cold, he doesn't care –– and something to drink, and he'll be ready to go again, ready for that suit hanging waiting in the closet, ready for the free skate.

Hopefully Yuri will be, too.

Date: 2017-04-08 02:58 am (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by me (my glorious debut)
From: [personal profile] fivetimechamp
He takes the mask back and tucks it away, and uses Yuri's time in the shower to lay out everything they'll need: Yuri's costume, the bag with all his equipment, some bottles of water, the tissue box. His own shower he keeps to a bare minimum: enough to wash the sweat from his nap off his skin, enough to refresh him, enough to swish the stale taste of sleep from his mouth. Hair brushed in its usual part, but it'll dry on the way. The gray three piece suit that he bought last year for the Worlds banquet, and that has seen more duty in the last month and a half than in the year before it.

Shoes, polished. Gloves in the pocket of his coat. And Yuri.

Who still looks tired, but Victor can't tell if that's because he's still sleepy from the nap, or because he didn't manage to sleep after all, but there's no time to get into it: they have to go.

(Frustrating to be going last. To have so much time to warm up, and too much time to think. All that time for Yuri's mind to play tricks on him, if Victor can't keep him focused.

But at least it's only five skaters ahead. It could be worse.)

The air in Shanghai in November is brisk, and it wakes him up even further, but his mind is already racing ahead, considering the routine, the competition, Yuri's weariness. He's not concerned about the latter as much as he perhaps should be: Yuri's stamina and stubbornness should power him through those four minutes and change even if there's nothing left of him to give by the end of it.

Once he's on the ice. Once it matters.

"We have lots of time once we're there to warm up, so take it nice and slow, okay?"

Date: 2017-04-08 04:14 am (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by cherrytini (I'm disappointed in you)
From: [personal profile] fivetimechamp
Yuri's got his earbuds in, sitting off to the side, and that should be normal. Would be, if he didn't seem to be losing an argument with his water bottle.

He'd barely spoken at all on the way over here. Hadn't seemed to be listening. Didn't respond when people called his name, or tried to get his attention, and now Victor's watching him with a fixed and exasperated smile, resting his elbow on the arm around his own stomach, tapping at his cheek with one gloved finger, until it becomes too much.

Suddenly swooping in, hearing Yuri's surprised gasp like he'd forgotten Victor was even there, and Victor would honestly be surprised if that weren't the case. "Yuri, were you unable to take a nap?"

He looks terrible. Face drawn and pale, deep bruised circles under his eyes. Even his jacket looks like it isn't fitting right, and the hands around the water bottle he was trying and failing to open are trembling, and Victor doesn't know if he should hug him or shake him in exasperation.

His negation is such an obvious lie that Victor just rolls straight past it, not even deigning to acknowledge its existence. "I forbid you from doing jumps in the six-minute warm-up." The last thing Yuri needs while in this fragile state is to flub a jump and lose all confidence, and he looks so tired Victor's not even sure he'll be able to stand up under his own power, let alone practice jumps that he normally has no trouble with. "That's an order from your coach, Yuri."

Date: 2017-04-08 11:32 am (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by me (who does he take after)
From: [personal profile] fivetimechamp
Yuri's the type to get nervous easily, that's never been a secret, but it means that he can often blow things out of proportion. If he misses a jump in the practice and loses even more confidence, it might affect the free skate later ––

Which is what is running through Victor's mind when he sees Yuri take to the air, only to crash on the ice and slide towards the wall, exactly as Victor worried might happen. He's not sure if he should be more annoyed that Yuri disobeyed a direct order, or relieved that Yuri at least had enough spirit to give it a shot, but either way it's frustrating and he has a sudden pang of sympathy for all time times he'd ignored Yakov's orders and done what he thought was best without considering their longterm effect.

Not that it will help Yuri for him to be annoyed, he looks downhearted enough when he comes to the gate to collect his skate guards and water bottle, so Victor doesn't chastise him, only asks "Did you hurt yourself?" and when it's clear that Yuri's fine, shrugs it off, and starts walking them back towards the warm-up space and green room. Yuri's shoulders are slumped and he says nothing, but Victor is still pushing for positive, talking like it meant nothing. "Well, it's common for skaters to nail something they flubbed during practice!"

It's about the only encouraging thing he can think to say, when he's getting nothing from Yuri and he's not sure how to crack this shell. Is it just exhaustion? Is it nerves? The flubbed jump? The pressure of being first? He'd never felt this way, so it's difficult to pinpoint just exactly how to keep this gray mood from snowballing further.

But it's not so bad, right? Perhaps if he just brushes it off, Yuri will latch onto that and start focusing on what he can do isn't of what he didn't, so his laugh is breezy and bright, even when Yuri mumbles an apology he can barely hear. "Well, just continue warming up, nice and easy."
Edited Date: 2017-04-08 11:34 am (UTC)

Date: 2017-04-08 06:48 pm (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by plastic (have been replaced)
From: [personal profile] fivetimechamp
More than a few heads turn, as Yuri gets up to switch off the televisions mid-way through Guang-hong's performance, and more than a few of those then turn towards him, but he couldn't care less about anyone in the room right now, annoyed or worried or not. Not when Yuri seems to be spiraling directly into a fullblown panic attack.

Hunched in a chair, holding his head in his hands and staring at his jiggling knee, unable to stop his foot from bouncing, or maybe not even aware that it is, and he knew Yuri got anxious, knew that he choked during his last Grand Prix run and fell into a gloom he couldn't escape, binge-eating and depressed, feeling like he was fighting alone. But all that's changed, hasn't it? He has his family, Minako, Victor. Even Yurio and the other skaters: everyone wants to see Yuri do well this year, finally meet his potential and show them all what he can really do. It isn't two years ago, and he isn't going to crash and burn.

Well, not if Victor can help it, anyway.

Pushing himself out of his train of thought and dropping his finger from where it had been tapping his mouth, to head over to Yuri and put a hand on his shoulder. "Yuri, don't sit down. I want you to go stretch out so you don't get cold and stiffen up."

Looking around before he spots Yuri's mat, rolled up near the rest of his equipment, and giving Yuri's shoulder a gentle push towards it. "There's some space over there –– "

Away from the televisions, where he can listen to his music and focus on stretching. "–– Go use it. You need to loosen up and stay warm."

Date: 2017-04-08 08:07 pm (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by plastic (wait for me!)
From: [personal profile] fivetimechamp
It seems to work for a little while.

At least, through the rest of Guang-hong's routine, and into the start of Chris', when Victor is looking back and forth between the performance on the screen (Chris is on fire today, looking relaxed and confident, and has that been as uncomfortable a thought as it is right now?) and Yuri stretching first on the mat, and then against the wall. He seems focused, at any rate ... or, he does until Victor catches a glimpse of his expression and sees how blank his eyes are, how drawn his face, and realizes that Yuri is trembling.

No. Not trembling. Shaking. Out of fear or adrenaline or nerves or exhaustion, Victor doesn't know, but Chris lands a jump combination that makes the room burst into approving applause, and he can see Yuri's shoulders tightening and lifting under his jacket, followed by a hard shiver, and he comes to a sudden decision, clear and sharp as shattering glass. It's only a few steps to reach for Yuri and grasp him by the scruff of his jacket's collar to drag him off the wall, walking briskly away: from the room, from the televisions, from the competition, from the people crowding up Yuri's space and making it harder for him to breathe. "Yuri, let's warm up in a different spot."

In the end, Yuri will have to fight for those four minutes and change on his own, but until there, Victor can protect him as well as he's able: that's what a coach should do, right? Protect his skater. Comfort him, and lift his confidence. Right now, Yuri is the most fragile Victor's ever seen him, and watching the others skate and listening to the idle chatter in the room will only push him further, so where's the place with the fewest people? Somewhere safe for Yuri to warm up in peace, without pitting himself against every skater to take the ice before he does?

But there seems to be people everywhere they turn, and Victor keeps directing Yuri through other doors, into other hallways, until finally they're in the stairwell, and the only sound is that of their echoing footsteps. Yuri's just following wherever Victor directs him, and that's not good, but they're getting away from people, and that is, and Victor might not know exactly what to do to motivate Yuri now, or snap him out of this spiral, but he can at least give him the space to try and work through it, himself.

That space, it turns out, ends up being the garage below the rink, but it's fine, it's fine. For their purposes, they don't need anything else: all they need is space for Yuri to warm up and breathe in peace, and for that, it's perfect.

Date: 2017-04-08 09:32 pm (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by me (don't argue with me)
From: [personal profile] fivetimechamp
There's an approving roar from above, and Yuri shivers like a cat that's been sprayed with water, looking up at him with huge, panicked eyes, and Victor thinks, Вот дерьмо.

"O-Okay, Yuri."

Smiling and trying his best to stay an even keel, even as he's holding his hands up to try and ward Yuri off at the pass. "First, let's take deep breaths."

Yuri has to calm down, if for no other reason, so that he doesn't have a heart attack or stroke right here in the garage. "Don't worry about it, Chris was only the second to go. Looking at the standings now isn't going to mean anything, okay?"

He has no idea if anything he's saying or doing is getting through, and he doesn't like it down here: it's cold and dim and echo-y and it's maybe the second to worst place for Yuri to warm up. The problem being, of course, that the worst place is where they just came from, with all the building pressure.

(Phichit is up now, he thinks ... that means another ten minutes or so before they have to start heading back up.)

"Go ahead and warm up, I'll keep an eye on the rankings for you. That's part of my job, not yours, remember?"

Date: 2017-04-09 01:57 am (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by cherrytini (you can be king again)
From: [personal profile] fivetimechamp
All he can do is watch over Yuri, and it's not a position he's used to taking up, but then, before Yuri, what did he have to protect? His career, his winning streak, Russia's dominance on the ice –– but no person. Nothing like this.

But he doesn't know if he likes it. The inability to do anything. Having nothing to do but stand here, arms crossed, and watch Yuri warm up, and try to keep him focused, and try to find something, anything to say or do that might make the tension singing in Yuri's shoulders and the worry in his face dissipate. What would Yakov say? Probably nothing very helpful. Yakov had never coddled them when they were nervous or tired: he would be barking that Yuri's lines look sloppy, that if Yuri keeps shaking like that he'll fall before he ever even gets the chance to start his program, that if he can't focus on his warm-up and flubs the routine, he'll lose his spot on the roster.

Victor doesn't think any of that will help.

But he's distracted for a moment and glances up at a sudden roar of applause from above, where Phichit Chulanont must have just finished his program, and that means it's Leo next, and then Georgi, and then Yuri. Another ten minutes, give or take, and Yuri will be on the ice whether he's ready or not, so Victor has to say something, doesn't he?

Prove he can get Yuri through this, like he promised he would, heady with confidence back in the hot spring of Yu-topia, with Yuri's bewildered face staring at him through the steam. Yuri hadn't believed him that night, and not for plenty of nights afterward, and it certainly may not have been as simple as Victor thought it would be, but he can do this. Yuri can. They can, together.

Except everything goes right out of his head when he looks back to Yuri, mouth opening to tell him to wrap up his warm-ups so they can head back, and sees Yuri staring at the ceiling of the garage, earbuds in his shaking hands, and that isn't nerves, or exhaustion on his face, stark and pale: it's fear.

Striking like an arrow directly into Victor's chest, and sending him at a run, even if Yuri's only a step away, heart sprinting into his throat, all his thoughts wiped away in a single second of desperate need to stop that face. Stop Yuri from hearing the applause. Block it all out for him.

Gloved hands landing on Yuri's ears and pressing, as if he might be able to stop Yuri from having heard the roar of the crowd a second ago, but he can't, and it makes him furious. "Don't listen!"

Date: 2017-04-09 03:26 am (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by me (what do I do?)
From: [personal profile] fivetimechamp
The problem is, now that he's here, with his hands against Yuri's ears, he doesn't know what else to do.

(Above, there's music: Leo de Iglesia.)

What can he do? He'd thought Yuri was tired, but Yuri didn't sleep. He thought Yuri was anxious, but this is unlike any attack of nerves he's ever seen. Why is he so nervous? He isn't throwing up or breaking down, he's just ... dissolving. Right under Victor's hands, and Victor is powerless to stop it, because he doesn't know what's going on, or why. If Yuri were a younger skater, he could understand being affected by the other skaters' rankings –– but Yuri isn't young. Not like that. He's been in this world for years, has competed at the national and world level on multiple occasions. Sure, he'd broken down two years ago, but two years ago, he hadn't had the last eight months of work, or programs built especially for his strengths and story and music. Two years ago he didn't have Victor, because Victor decided to hate him a little for making him fall in love instead of come to Japan like Yuri asked him to.

Because Victor was proud, and petty. And now, Victor doesn't know what to do.

How can he motivate Yuri?

He has no idea, and he hates that even more than he hates the way his heart dropped a second ago when he'd looked down to see raw panic written bare across Yuri's face. Standing here with his hands muffling Yuri's ears ... is this really being a coach? Is this doing what's best for Yuri? All day, he's been trying to be positive, optimistic, to try and lighten the mood, but was that actually beneficial, or was it a selfish reaction to Yuri's anxiety, to try and make him feel better, instead of fixing the problem before it spun out?

Did he cause this, because he didn't know what to do? Because he placed wanting Yuri to be happy over Yuri's ability to perform?

Maybe his question is answered when Yuri gently pries his hands away from the sides of his head and tells him they have to go, and this isn't right, his skater isn't the one who should be saying that. He should. He's the coach. He has to be a coach.

What would Yakov do?

Yakov believed that applying enough pressure would turn his skaters into beautiful masterpieces, but more often than not, they shattered first along the way. Perfection from pressure, beauty from pain. Skaters might be strong as diamonds, but their hearts are as fragile as glass. Maybe he's been trying for the wrong kind of motivation all along. Maybe Yuri needs something more substantial.

Or maybe he needs someone else to take the pressure off his shoulders.

"Yuri."

If they're so fragile ... maybe Victor should try shattering his into pieces. Maybe Victor needs to take the blame, and be the enemy, so Yuri can stop blaming himself, and fighting himself.

His footsteps have stopped, so Victor turns, hand digging into his forehead and hair, before sliding to the back of his neck. "If you mess up this free skate and miss the podium, I'll take responsibility by resigning as your coach."

It's the only thing he even has to give, isn't it?

Date: 2017-04-09 04:10 am (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by cherrytini (oops?)
From: [personal profile] fivetimechamp
At first, there's nothing but silence stretching, and Yuri's stricken face, but he has to wait it out, has to give Yuri the chance to ––

Oh.

Oh.

He's not expecting the thin twin streams of tears that pool and then slip down Yuri's cheeks, and whatever he was thinking a second ago, he takes it all back now. "Ah, sorry, Yuri ––"

Hands lifted in apology, taking a careful step towards him, a little afraid that any sudden movement will just shatter the skater in front of him even further. Well, if he'd wanted to know where his priorities lie, that question has been answered with flashing alarm lights and sirens and a huge banner draping itself over his head. Being the harsh coach is too impossible when breaking Yuri's heart feels like breaking his own, and he should never have offered an empty threat like that, anyway.

Not that any of that is his immediate problem, which is that Yuri is crying, and all Victor knows is he wants it to stop.

"I wasn't being serious ––"

Date: 2017-04-09 11:18 am (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by cherrytini (huh?)
From: [personal profile] fivetimechamp
Yuri can't seem to stop, and Victor's lost track of the music upstairs, or anything but the words pouring out of him, the tears spilling down his face, how he's holding himself so tightly it looks like he's going to tear a muscle. Victor's really not sure if he should touch him or not: this is not in his wheelhouse of experience.

But that final confession, the one that's spat out like Yuri's had it in his mouth all day, at least that he knows how to respond to, can relax a little against. Finally, an answer. "Of course I don't."

Quit? Leave? It's never crossed his mind, not even once.

Date: 2017-04-09 01:41 pm (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by me (welp)
From: [personal profile] fivetimechamp
Well, whatever solid ground he'd finally felt he'd stepped onto turns out only to be quicksand again, as Yuri shouts at him that he knows, like it's so obvious even a child wouldn't need it told to them, but if he's worried about it –– ?

None of this is anything Victor understands or knows how to stop, and the tears streaming down Yuri's face are only making him more uncomfortable, left-footed in a way he hasn't felt since he was a tiny thing just learning how to stay upright on the ice. Yakov was right about one thing: he's never had to worry about anyone's feelings but his own, before, and his have always been as clear to him as running water. Yuri's, though: they keep shifting, clouds to sun to storm to impenetrable fog, and he's never quite sure of the right thing to do or say.

Which is why he turns away, a little, just to rub at his forehead and prop his hand on his hip, frustrated. "I'm not good with people crying in front of me." This is a problem he doesn't know how to fix, because he's not sure there is one, a solution that will set things right. It's not a question of teaching Yuri where to shift his weight to make his landings as strong as his take-offs, or promising not to go and having Yuri believe him. Yuri knows all that, and it isn't helping.

So if he can't fix it –– and make Yuri stop leaking in this deeply unsettling way –– what can he do? Wracking his brain for similar situations and their subsequent solutions unearths nothing of use. It's not like Yakov had ever done much for a sobbing skater other than hand them a tissue and tell them not to dehydrate themselves.

The closest he's ever even come to this situation was a handful of moments at the end of short-lived but intense relationships, and even then, he'd never known what to do, so he'd just kiss them or embrace them and assure them he cared, and go on his way. "I don't know what to do. Should I just kiss you, or something?"

Would that help? It's really the only option left in his arsenal, which he's now realizing is woefully thin on the ground.
Edited Date: 2017-04-09 01:45 pm (UTC)

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theglassheart: [ Fanart ] : { Google Images } (Default)
勝生 勇利, Katsuki Yūri

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