Amongst The Fireflies [Victuuri]

Gazed

Yuri Katsuki.

I haven't heard that name in years, yet I remember that guy vividly. Slim, yet elegant frame, fierce brown eyes that carried the Olympic flame of competitiveness, we all were competitive back then, but he never relaxed, I always saw him practicing all the time and if not that, then watching figure skating videos on youtube.

Back then I was at the peak of my career, I still am, but it was Yuri's second big break into fame and respect. The first was when he won gold at the Grand Prix, I was merely a spectator in that. Everyone loved him, he became japan's number one. I met him after that, even though I'm just 2 years older than him, he warmed up to me as soon as we interacted. He was a jolly person, always smiling and acting comically with friends even while facing competition pressure.

'I am a big fan of yours', he exclaimed, almost jumping when he shook my hand, 'I've seen all your programs, they are flawless!' , he googled at me but then he went scarlet after realising he might've looked like a creep. I refused and told him, 'Thankyou, you're program was amazing too'.

The next time we met, it was already an year, and his personality had changed 180 degree. I don't know if the olympic pressure had made him this way, or perhaps something deeper, but that guy had forgotten how to smile.

I never really thought much about him, until one late evening I was walking down the berm towards our practice ring, looking for my coach Yakov. I pulled the door open and saw Yuri, for the first time in years I saw him enjoying. He was skating to some random song, and doing his own self-made moves. He looked like a free bird without the expression of hidden agony he always carried with him. He even fell down at one point and giggled to himself. At that moment, I don't know what came into my mind, but a foreign feeling corrupted my body. My face began to heat up and I started to look at him in a completely different way, as if someone had applied camera filters on my eyes.

 But I was self aware and didn't want to look like a creep or barge into his happy moment uninvited, so after making sure Yakov wasn't there, I walked out towards my hotel.

On the eve of the final day of the championship, we all were distressed and dying out of frenzy. Even though I had plenty of experience, the olympic pressure still got me. But Yuri was seen nowhere. I thought he might be the most tensed and would've practice all night, but the only time I saw him was when his name was announced.

"Representing Japan. Yuri Katsuki". The crowd went wild. His entire program was flawless, he landed each jump with such an elegance and his axels were flawless, he even did a quadruple axel without tripping.

He landed on the first place, his face shinning bright as he bit the gold medal. I got a silver. I've been wining gold consecutively in olympics since the last two years. Not to boast about myself but I could've gotten a gold this year too, if I hadn't sprained my leg whilst the last jump and injured myself badly, or I probably would've still gotten a silver, yuri had been way too charismatic that night.

The after party was basic: Drinks, music, meeting other famous skaters.

Something peculiar happened. A drunk Yuri made his way to me, loudly commenting on how cool and amazing I was, and almost in a flash he was clinging and grinding on me. I laughed. His drunk face flushed red and his treating me like some kind of deity made the entire thing comical. I cannot stress on how much I had to control myself from turning crimson and flirting back with him, because lets be real, yuri was a cutie and I was hella drunk too. But thankfully his coach dragged him away by his collar which I thought was pretty brutal. 

And that was the last memory I have of yuri.

I was looking forward to meet Yuri in person, maybe become friends and hang out. He looked like a fun person. But one morning, Yuri Plitsetski, whom everyone called Yurio, a child prodigy, training under the same coach Yakov, kicked me out of my bed, shoving the newspaper up my ass.

"What is it yurio? This better be important because I sure don't like being kicked out at 4 am" I groaned as I got up.

"That pig who had a crush on you has disappeared" he smirked, "probably shit his pants when he realised he had to face me in the next Grand Prix championship"

Yuri. He was the only one Yurio hated the most, as a matter of fact, Yurio hated everyone, you know how angsty teenagers are, though that "pig" was on the top of his list. But I knew he secretly watched his programs at night and awed. That kid thinks he's clever and can hide stuff from me, what a idiot.

"Shut up Yurio, he doesn't have a crush on me, and what the heck !?" I grabbed the newspaper from his hands. My eyes scanned the headlines twice to make sure I read it correct.

'Japan Sports association committee reports the disappearance of Yuri Katsuki after a trip to Ukrain.'

His disappearance hit me like truck carrying loads of confusion and frustration. Why would a guy like him disappear? He was a star, at the top of his career, everyone loved him, wanted to be like him. I was sure he didn't do it on purpose. Who knows what terrible fate he must be suffering right now.

Another year came, the news was old and everyone forgot about him, even Yurio stopped bickering about how annoying and ugly that "pig" was. I was positive I might never see him again, and my little bloodrush for him died with time too.

Yurio won the grand prix choreographed by me and became the new sensation and I ,too, continued to win titles and respect all over the globe. I had a girlfriend, Alina. Life was going alright, until 6 months later I had a big fight with Yakov and Alina, and ran away to my favourite bar and got extremely drunk, stumbling across the alleyways until finally entering a bakery, only to passout.