ax_main | Yuuri and Yurio, way backdated

Two Yuris?! Drama at Xavier's!

Yuuri had gotten used to American food during his training in Detroit, but there were still aspects of it that he couldn't stand. Milk and cheese were hard to stomach, and they seemed to be in everything. He was almost finished picking his way through his food. It would be a relief to leave this lonely, empty table. He felt exposed.

Yuri had been watching Katsuki, trying to decide if it was Katsuki. He'd seen the footage and heard the talk, of course. Yuuri Katsuki must be a mutant. The way frost had formed all over his skin, that couldn't be "human". Looked like it was true.

Katsuki was a good skater with a lyrical style. Not too remarkable, but competitive every time Yuri had skated against him. The mutant thing had made him wonder what kind of guy Katsuki was. Then he hadn't turned up in competitions this season--still in the juniors, but Yuri followed that news too. He'd won it himself last year, after all. And the year before.

In the hall just outside the rec room, Yuri caught up and said, "Hey."

Yuuri stopped and turned. Immediately, frost broke out across his skin, creeping along in a jagged fractal pattern. "H-hi." Habitually, he gave a slight bow. His glasses were fogging up with wisps of cold vapor coming off his skin. Yuri Plisetsky didn't have to say a single sentence to completely intimidate him.

"You're not competing this year." Yuri was never one for treading carefully. "Did they tell you you couldn't?"

"Not officially," Yuuri hedged. "But maybe you saw online...some people are really angry." He felt like he was going to have a heart attack and die. And all over again he was thinking--why am I even considering going back? I'm no good; I'll never win against someone like Yuri.

"So you just gave up." Yuri wasn't even sure why it made him so mad. Not like he cared about this guy... but suddenly he just wanted to kick him.

"I thought I'd take some time off. To think." Yuuri couldn't look his former competitor in the eye, and kept his head down. "If I should compete anymore. I know...I've always had a hard time keeping up with people like you."

"That's a weak excuse," Yuri snapped. This kid was a nightmare, and that was all. Mutation outed on the ice, just like Yuri's almost had been--had been, actually, even if no one knew it--and now he was just going to curl up and die over it? Yuri'd had nightmares like this, and now he was staring at it. Glaring at it, actually. "So maybe you should retire. We don't need two 'Yuri's' in the senior bracket anyhow."

"What do you care about it?" Yuuri grumbled. He was having a hard time containing himself. Every day he bundled everything deeper and deeper inside of him. And every day that he did that, the ice got worse. Frigid air was curling off of his body like breath in a winter chill. Tiny ice shards, snowflakes, glimmered in the mist. "I shouldn't matter to you at all. You'll always beat me, every time. I'm like a gnat compared to you."

"So this is me, swatting you away. Stop buzzing around and annoying me, if you're going to be a coward anyhow." Yuri watched the frosty show with interest, though. What a shame that this guy was such a loser. He had everything, even a sport-appropriate power...

Yuuri set his jaw, trying to find something in himself to throw back at this cruel boy. "Phichit thinks I shouldn't quit. There are a lot of people who believe in me." And, he thought--as he often did lately--that his idol, Viktor Nikiforov, wouldn't quit.

"Except you, hah?" Yuri stuck out his chin and glared even harder.

"Yes," he answered. "Except me."

"Then what use is anything else? Phichit can't skate for you." Yuri's lips curled in a snarl.

A sad thought occurred to Yuuri. "Do you really only do this for yourself?"

Yuri lifted his chin and glared. "I skate for Russia."

"Like Phichit." His friend's patriotism was something he had always admired. And now he knew something more about Yuri Plisetsky. Maybe they could start to relate a little.

Yuri shrugged. He didn't know anything about Chulanont off the ice, except that he took incredible selfies that made Yuri roil with jealousy. "You don't care about Japan?"

"Of course I care about Japan. But when I think about it...it's the face of my parents and my friends that I see, all telling me to do my best." He was beginning to feel a bit queasy, poking into this guilt-laden corner of his mind. Everyone, everyone was telling him to do his best. They were cheering him on. And he was on the brink of disappointing them all, forever.

"What do you see in the mirror?" Yuri asked, gaze and words knife-sharp.

Yuuri looked down, frozen tears burning in his eyes. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Because nothing else matters if you don't want it," Yuri practically hissed. He'd seen the weakness, and he was going for it.

He balled his fists at his sides, biting the nails into his palm to force focus. "I think maybe you and I shouldn't speak to one another anymore."

"Agreed," Yuri said with a snarl and a toss of his hair. "So I guess it's a good thing you won't be competing."

Yuuri set his jaw. "I haven't decided yet. Don't count me out."

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Yuri spun on his heel and stalked down the hall, but then stopped and added over his shoulder. “So, never.”

The frost left on Yuuri's skin began to break up as he watched his competitor walk away. "Don't count on it," he said, quietly.