Disclaimer: I do not own Yuri! On Ice or the characters, if I make up a character I will say so at the end of the chapter.

I searched, but could not find a final ship name for them, sorry.

Trigger warning, self-harm, attempted suicide, etc.

. Y.P . - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - . Y.P .

The lights were off, door locked, thick, dark curtains nailed shut onto the window. I'm sitting in the middle of the bed, knees to my chest, one arm stretched out in front of my body, palm up, the other hand with a worn razor blade from the Home Depot, sliding across my wrist, making deep gashes.

One more time. I think. Another cut. Blood beads up.

One more cut.. I think. Another cut. Blood runs

One more... Another cut. Blood rolls around my too-skinny arm.

Just one more... Another. Blood drips onto my lap and bed.

One... Another. Blood stains.

There's a rapid knock at the door, disrupting me from my primary focus at the moment. I clear my voice, putting myself into 'Yuri Mode.'

"Who is it?" I ask, making my voice cold. Yuri doesn't like people knocking at his door at 3:00 A.M. I stand up and wrap a towel around my arm just in case.

"Its Grandpa, Victor's here, said he needs you, somethin' to do with that other Yuri, also, Otabek's with them."

Otabek... my wander wonders for a split second before I put it back together. I growl. Yuri doesn't like them. "Twenty-five minutes." I need a shower to clean my arm, plus, Yuri makes people wait on him.

I grab some decent clothes and go into the bathroom and lock the door. Undressing, I turn on the cold water, step in and just stand there, not thinking, not processing, just staring at the red blood swirling into the drain. I hear another rapid knock at the door, but it isn't as loud as Grandpa's knock. Knowing its not him, I make my voice harsh. "What? Who is it?"

"Its Otabek, what are you doing in there? Its been nearly a hour, hurry up."

Its Otabek. Otabek Altin. In my room, with me in the showing, naked. Blushing to myself I turn off the water, it doesn't matter that I didn't wash, I showered when I woke up. I step out, dry off, then dress, I open my door to an impatient looking Otabek. He doesn't say anything? I take the towel I used to dry with and ruffle my hair with it.

"What?" I say, making sure to add acid into my voice. Yuri doesn't like people staring without talking.

"Your arm is bleeding." Is all he says in a soft and gentle voice.

"Oh? Um, my cat scratched me, it must've opened up in the shower." I manage to lie in a casual 'Yuri Mode' voice.

His graze then moves from my now dripping arm to the towel in my bathroom. I try to shut the door but slams his strong arm onto it, making it fly open. He speed walks into my bathroom and grabs the towel.

"Then why do you have a towel with lines of blood still fresh in your bathroom hidden in a trash can, Yuri?" His voice is so gentle and kind. Oh, god. He knows. I feel my face go pale and I start to stutter.

"I- Um, I- Mul- Multiple cuts fro- from my-my cat-t" I somehow shove out of mouth. He's stepping closer to me..

Slowly, he starts to pull off my jacket. I snap back into my 'Yuri Mode' again. Slapping his hands away I glare at him.

"What do you think your doing? Leave my room! I'll be down when I please to be!" I snap at him.

"Yuri, you don't have to go through this alo-"

"GO!" If he talks anymore, or if I talk anymore, I'll breakdown and cry, and Yuri doesn't cry.

He gives me a frustrated yet sympathetic look, as he walks to the already open door, his gaze drops on my bloody bed and blade. He's stopped walking.

"Yuri.." a tear glistens down his cheek. Wait... he's crying, Otabek Altin is crying. Because of me. Slower than before, he walks to me. My body shakes, breath quivers. He goes for my jacket again, and this time I let him.

"Yuri..." I cast my eyes to my toes. Looking at him is impossible. I feel his hand lift up my chin, and even in a moment like this, I blush looking into his perfect round chocolate eyes.. But I can't let this happen.. I just can't. Making my self go into 'Yuri Mode', I shove him off and give him my signature glare.

"Leave, and don't ever, ever say anything about what happened don't you ever tell anyone, and don't fucking talk to me ever again." I don't want to say this. I want him to stay, tell me that everything is ok and that he wont leave me, that he will stay. But he doesn't, he walked straight out the door with no emotion in eyes except hatred. The second he leaves I run to door and slam it so it closed, locking it shut. No one can help me now.. god, what have I done? Why couldn't I have just let him stay and help me? What is so wrong with me?

"Everything.." I answer my own question aloud. Its not like any anyone will miss me, In fact, I'll be doing all my "rivals" a favor. Less competition..

Sneaking into the kitchen, I find a big, sharp knife and pull off my shirt. I take it and dig it into my arm, palm down, dragging it from my middle finger to my shoulder. I examine it for a moment, watching the blood flow onto the marble-tiled floor. Good.. Its deep, very deep. I do the same thing to my other arm and after a few minutes I start to get a little dizzy. I drawn a few more lines deeper by the lines already made on both arms. I find a scrap paper out of a drawer with a pen.

Goodbye,

Yuri Plisetsky

I make some more lines, even deeper than before and I hear myself fall before I feel the ground. I push my eyes open, I don't know why, but when I'm found, I want them to see my eyes open.. lifeless... to make sure, I lightly cut my throat so some blood drizzles out.

My eyes are open, but then I don't see anything anymore, don't feel anything, don't remember, I'm gone.