Intention By Design

Somewhere Back In Time

Chapter Text
"Dude, what the fuck?"

Katya was hiding behind his broad shoulders, teeth chattering as the rink's chill bit through the sleeves of her sheer violet blouse. Viktor had grown used to the debilitating presence that was Phichit Chulanont, but it seems his rinkmates hadn't yet acquired the skills to drown out the aura of contempt he exuded, giving the evil eye to anyone who so much as breathed in Yuuri's direction.

"Ah, I warned you. Phichit Chulonant, 15 years old, a frequent flyer in the juniors division. He's Katsuki's guard dog. I'd advise against getting all touchy-feely again. The kid is liable to rip off a limb. Knowing the ISU, they'd dock your presentation score if you showed up missing an arm."

There was no real bite to his words. Viktor's tone was cautionary at best, disengaged at worst. The man was too busy gawking at said escortee to pay her any mind. He had been looking forward to this event, anticipating the battle of a lifetime. It had been years since he had felt challenged, but with the ISU on his ass and Yuuri not far behind, the stakes were high.

As it turns out, watching your rival set themselves up for failure really takes the fun out of things. Had he dared to voice these concerns aloud, Victor knew he'd be met with loud opposition. Since when was it normal to throw the walking dead in front of a crowd? The whole thing was a disaster waiting to manifest itself into reality.

Yuuri's skin was doughy and cadaverous. He stood tall, but the hesitance with which he stood contradicted the proud impression he was trying to give off. The sunken bags under his eyes were the shade of spoiled pomegranate juice. There was a thin sheen of setting powder abating the discoloration, but it lacked the opacity needed to mask the issue capitally. Someone needed to apply some concealer, and fast.

Were he and the other skater on better terms, Victor would likely have a word with Celestino, chastising him for allowing one of his students to attend a competition while ostensibly green in the gills. Whatever Yuuri had was presumably contagious. The fingers would all point in the same direction when skaters began to drop like flies. Well, it wasn't like it was any of his business, but Viktor would prefer to avoid catching the plague, or more likely, strep throat. He spurted another dollop of sanitizer into his already cracked palms. God, sick people were gross. No need to make everyone else disgusting, as well. The man shivered, put off by the idea of snot blocking his airways and sores dotting his tonsils.

"I'm gonna go talk to him, make nice and all that."

Katya didn't allow Viktor the opportunity to protest, decisively sashaying towards the unfortunate trio with her head held deceivingly high. As he'd feared, Phichit immediately acted as a human shield, gluing himself to Yuuri's side and glowering at the incoming 'threat'. Oh, great show, dear Watson, and for once, Viktor wouldn't have to compromise his own sanity to see it!

The showdown ended as soon as it began when a flushed Yuuri ruffled his companion's hair, saying something Viktor wasn't close enough to hear, though it was likely an assurance of some sort as Phichit's hackles fell. Boo... There goes any promise of excitement for the day.

As they exchanged greetings, however, Viktor found himself second guessing his antecedent judgments. Yuuri was swiftly transformed into a willful force, life seeping from every pore as he chatted with the other two athletes, his coach too preoccupied talking on the phone to join their little socialization circle. There's no way Yuuri had thought so far ahead as to plan looking frail in an attempt to throw his competition off his trail...right? Viktor knew his reasoning was no more sound than that of a paranoid degenerate, but by god, Yuuri was either an admirable actor or a convincing cheat.