Chapter 1

Yuuri looked to the rink. His eyes were hard and his posture stiff as he focused on nothing but the sound of the skates as they rushed against the ice. The Grand Prix skaters were the best in the world and Yuuri was here to compete with them for a second time. However, Yuuri was not the same man that had been sitting in this same spot a year ago. In that time, in the blink of an eye, his entire life had changed. He had come out to his parents, had finally, at the age of twenty-three, decided that he needed to be true to himself. They had not taken it well. Not well at all. He had been kicked out of the house within minutes. He had been forced to gather all his things and find his own way in the world. It was as though he had never existed in the first place. His family seemed to act as though they had no son. To them he was nothing.

Yuuri had gone to the only place that he could think. With a bag slung over his shoulder and his life crumbling around him, he had gone to Ice Castle Hasetsu. Dumping his bag in a locker Yuuri had jumped over the counter and grabbed some skates. He'd fastened them on quickly and then rushed onto the shimmering ice. Minutes passed quickly, hours soon following. Jump after jump, fall after fall, bruises upon bruises, until Yuuri couldn't stand anymore. He lay on the ice, panting. Suddenly all his emotions caught up with him. Tears began to trickle down his face and Yuuri could only squeeze his eyes shut, letting the shakes ripple through his body.

Yuuri hadn't know how long he had been lying there. However he was broken from his self pity as he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders and a soothing voice whisper in his ears. Yuuko was there. Her gentle touch and soothing words only made Yuuri cry harder. It had taken Takeshi's strong grip, to grab Yuuri off the ice. The man had placed his broken friend in the spare room. A room that had soon become Yuuri's.

Yuuri had spent the next few months doing nothing more than skating. He had got up and skated till he couldn't stand. Eaten, skated some more and then fallen into a fitful sleep. He had lost a lot of weight and put on a lot of muscle. He wasn't, however, healthy. He looked sickly, his skin far too pale and his entire body appearing fragile. Yuuko had set him straight, or, well, straighter. She had forced him into eating and sleeping regularly, as well as making him 'earn his keep'. In reality she just wanted him to do something other than skating more intensely then she had ever seen anyone skate before. Therefore Yuuko had forced the young man to start teaching skating lessons to the younger students.

She had also secretly entered him into the 'Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship'. The plane tickets had been booked and so had the hotel. However they were only for him. He had been the only competitor to enter without a coach, to go totally by himself. He had sat alone in the locker room, got dressed by himself and had finally beaten every single other competitor there by himself. He had beaten his own personal best score in the short programme, scoring 93.6. Everyone had been entranced, amazed, and yet Yuuri could only feel a deep ache in his very soul. A pain that he had attempted to demonstrate to the world through his skating.

That was how Yuuri ended up here. He was watching as Jean-Jacques Leroy, or JJ, as he skated across the ice to a song of his own creation. Yuuri stood as the performance ended. He was ready. This was his time. There was no-one to hold his hand, no-one to wish him luck. He stood alone. A skater all in black, his eyes hollow and filled with pain. He began. He felt music flow through him, the pain and the suffering flowing though him. His hardship was poured into every movement that he made. He let it flow through him, trying to show himself and the world that he was more than anyone could ever have guessed. He was worth more, he could do more. He was not someone that could be forgotten. He would make sure that the whole world knew his name. Yuuri stopped, his heart hammering in his chest, sweat dripping down his face. The crowd roared.

Yuuri sat alone in the Kiss and Cry. His hands fidgeted as waited for his score. 119.00 flashed up on the screen. Yuuri choked, he couldn't believe it. He was in first place, he had set a new world record. He had beaten the score of Viktor Nikiforov. He had done it. What the hell? Yuuri could no longer control himself. A wide smile appeared on his face and tears began to trickle down his face in waves. He had done it. Now he just had to get through tomorrow.

Yuuri ignored the reporters and the other skaters as he made his way to the locker rooms. He quickly got changed and made his way back toward the stadium to watch the final competitors. Viktor was on next and Yuuri desperately wanted to see then man that he had idolised for so many years. The man that had finally made him realise that he needed to accept himself. The man that he had just beaten. The man was beautiful. Each move delicate and gentle. However he could not embody Yuuri's raw emotion. He score a respectable 114.36, placing him in second. In any other competition Viktor would have smashed the competition. However Yuuri was here, so it was not to be.

After watching the final act of the competition Yuuri had scurried away, back to his hotel. He had spent the evening running out his nerves, readying himself for the next day. He ran through the streets of Barcelona, enjoying the new sights that he could experience in the almost silent streets of the new city. It was nearing ten as Yuuri made his way back to the hotel lobby. Sweat still trickled down his face and his breath still coming in gasps as he made his way toward the lift.

"Katsuki" a voice yelled as Yuuri stepped into the lift. He ignored it. He didn't know anyone here well enough to want to talk to them. "KATSUKI!" Yuuri jumped as the voice appeared right behind him. He whirled around. The lift doors crept shut before the face of an angry Yuri Plisetsky. The boy's blonde hair rushing around his face. He thrust his hand between the closing doors, forcing them back open. He strode forward and smashed Yuuri's back into the wall of the lift.

"How dare you come back!" the boy yelled loudly. His voiced magnified by the enclosed space. "I told you that there's only room for one Yuri. Why are you back here you fat little piggy" The fifteen year old yelled. His face was an angry red and he tightened his grip on the front of Yuuri's shirt. However before the situation could escalate further the blonde was pulled back.

"Now now Yuri, no need for that is there." another voice chimed in. Yuuri looked up, only to be met with the face of Viktor Nikiforov. He blushed, a light pink sheen glittering on his face. He quickly looked away from the sparkling blue eyes and shimmering silver hair.

"I can do whatever I want old man" the blonde barked out at the older skater before him.

"No. You can't." Viktor replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You have a competition tomorrow Yuri." with that the silver haired skater pushed the young man from the lift, before letting the doors close as he shouted "Get some rest" through the gap. This left Yuuri and Viktor alone in the lift. Yuuri's blush only increased as he realised his predicament.

"I'm sorry about Yuri. He's a bit highly strung after only coming in third today." Viktor said with a smile, tossing his hair in exasperation. "What floor are you on Katsuki?" he questioned.

"Umm…" Yuuri bumbled, his eyes flicking around the lift, looking anywhere but the man before him. "S-Sixth…?" he finally managed to get out. However it sounded more like a question than anything else. Viktor gave a binding smile and a nod as he pressed the button.

"I'm on seven" Viktor said. He gave another smile before he contained to try and make conversation. "Well done on your performance today. You seem like a different skater than the boy that preformed last year" he complimented. Yuuri blushed harder. His face was a bright red by this point, he didn't think he could feel anymore embarrassed.

Thankfully the door opened at that moment, showing the third floor. Yuuri quickly scurried out, running down the corridor as though the hounds of hell were on his heels. However as he left he heard a voice shout after him.

"Good luck tomorrow Katsuki." Viktor yelled. Yuuri was wrong, his blush could get brighter. It did. He was afraid that he would burst a blood vessel in his face. He hurried back to his room and buried his face in his pillow, letting sleep take him. He needed to be rested for tomorrow and he wouldn't let Viktor Nikiforov knock him off his game.

The next morning loomed, Yuuri was up long before he needed to be, his nerves forcing him from the comfortable bed. He had gone for yet another run, attempting to sweat out the nerves. It hadn't worked. It seemed that Viktor Nikiforov had got into his head. Yuuri had not felt like this yesterday. However today every second that passed, the swirling in his stomach and the fuzziness in his head only increased. He couldn't seem to focus.

The morning passed in a blur. In the warm ups Yuuri avoided doing any jumps, knowing that if anything were to remotely knock his confidence now, he would not be able to get back up again. He would not be able to do any of his jumps. He would become the Yuuri of last year. A Yuuri that would fail. He could not let that happen. He ignored the other competitors. He didn't look at their scores or their sets. He only concentrated on himself.

Yuuri stepped onto the ice, his skate gliding perfectly along it. He let his regular breathing sooth him. He let the emotions within him rise. Let the feelings of rejection, loss and betrayal bubble beneath his skin. The music started. His performance began. The pace was fast, the jumps complex, each one perfect. That was until Yuuri's eyes caught a flash of silver. Standing at the edge of the rink was Viktor. A smile lit up the man's face. Yuuri faltered. For a second he was lost. He fell to the ice. However the impact was enough to snap him from his thoughts. He was back, but he felt different. The finale of his performance was nor what he had wanted. It was not what he had trained, it was not what he had wanted.

He finished. He was disappointed. He made his way to the Kiss and Cry with a scowl on his face. That had not gone how he had wanted it to. He had lost himself. He had lost the anger and the hate. The loneliness and heartbreak had disappeared as he saw the smile of the silver haired man. He had lost it. He had lost all of it. The scores came up on the screen. 197.80 flashed in a large bright display. It was good, a personal best. But it wasn't good enough. He knew it wasn't going to be good enough. He was never good enough. His parents were right. He was not worthy of existence.

Yuuri stood from the seat, rushing from the looks, the questions, the people. He did not want or deserve to be in their company. He couldn't do this. He ran from them, all of them. Yuuri spent the rest of the competition sitting in the bathroom, his phone clutched to his chest. He could hear the announcements through the speakers. He was right. He had not done enough. He was never going to be enough. Viktor had scored 204.30 in his free skate. He had been flawless according to the announcer. It was then that Yuuri had lost it. He had broken down in uncontrollable tears. Sobs violently ripping through him. He clung tighter to his phone. He wished that he had someone to call. He didn't. He was alone.

After Yuuri had calmed himself he made his way back toward the rink. The award ceremony was sure to start soon. He needed to be there, he knew that. He may not want to, but he needed to. With his eyes still red and his face still flushed, he pulled on his skates and slid across the ice. However even as he stood by Viktor Nikiforov he could not be pulled out of his swirl of depression. This was it for him. He didn't know if he could go on.

Yuuri had pinned all his hopes and dreams on this final. He had needed to win this. He needed to prove to himself and everyone else that he was worth it. That he could be powerful and strong. So as the silver was placed around his neck he couldn't help but let a tear slip down his face. He came off the ice and ran. He ran back to the hotel without a word to anyone.

Yuuri fell to the bed, clutching at the soft toy poodle that sat there. He pulled it to his chest and let the tears and snot run down his face. He shook with every breath and pained moans escaped from his lips. He was worthless. He was nothing. How was it that he was so worthless? He didn't deserve to be alive anymore.

Yuuri picked himself off the bed after what could have been hours or seconds. He opened the doors to the balcony. He knew what he had to do. He stepped toward the railing that lined the balcony. He picked up one foot, placing it over the low barrier. It found a place on the small ledge, the other soon followed. He took a deep breath and looked down. Cars and people milled about the streets. They were oblivious to the imminent demise of the person above them. Yuuri lifted a foot. Keeping one hand on the railing he lent forward. He was ready. He closed his eyes. He was ready to let go.

However as soon as his hand left the rail, he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him, pulling him back. Yuuri snapped his eyes open and attempted to struggle away from the grasp of the person behind him. However the arms were too strong. They rapidly pulled him back over the railing, but they didn't let go.

"No, no, no!" Yuuri yelled. He was angry. He was so angry. He wanted to die. "Noooooo!" he yelled out again. However all the anger drained from him as heard the voice of the man behind him.

"Yuuri" a thick Russian accent choked out. "Yuuri" Quieter this time. Yuuri whimpered at the voice. Why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be Viktor? All he had wanted was to die in peace and now the one man that he never wanted to see again had saved him. He didn't understand. Yuuri could only sob as he was once again lifted from the floor and placed on the bed. He felt the pair of strong arms tighten around him. His body seemed to give up then. His eyes drooped shut and sleep claimed him.