Yuri!!! On Ice Oneshots (Mostly Victuuri and Otayuri)

The Final Chord || PART 1

The brilliant idea for this one shot came from the talented UnknownWriter1308 . They deserve any and all credit for this story.

(SERIOUSLY THO GO FOLLOW THEM THEIR WRITING IS GODLY AND THEY ARE JUST THE KINDEST PERSON EVER— )

Oh yes, I nearly forgot...

TRIGGER WARNING!!!

You have been warned.

There will be a part two to this...I would write it all in one story but I'm too impatient to get this chapter out so...deal.
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The ending chord was coming up quickly: this much Yuuri knew as his skate gracefully touched down on the ice. His leg swung back, stabilizing himself and allowing the crowd to soak in his successful jump. The ice rink filled with cheers and roars blending together into white noise. The commentator's voice echoed over the daunting cheers, yelling something in an elevated voice that completely skipped over the skater's head. This was a strategy he had developed over his many years of skating: commentators were a distraction and they were to be ignored. In fact the only time Yuuri would ever stoop down to hear the commentary was when he was unsure of the amount of rotations he had performed in the air. Other than that, the only thing his ear was trained to listen to was the music that made up his skating blood.

It was as if somebody had described, "-like the song's already inside you and you're using your body to release it..." Yes, this song was inside of him. His organs were a symphony in sync, his blood the music notes played with absolute perfection. The song was inside of him, and skating was the only way to release it.

And for the longest time, he didn't have a reason to. For the longest time, his skin was a filter, holding back the music and restraining his movements. He hadn't allowed himself to show the world his true skating; he was held back, stuck, frozen in time. Like a Snapchat filter, it was fake.

But....

His eyes darted to the side, just for a split second. But in that second, that quick flash of light and color that very easily could have been missed, made itself present in his brain. And he was reminded what he was doing for. Or rather, who...

There it was. The final chord....

Drawing in a shallow breath, he began to lower his lifted leg. This was it. This was the moment that could define it all. Up until then his performance had been flawless. Though he couldn't see it, he knew the crowd was mesmerized by his movements. Up until then he had felt a way he hadn't felt before. He had felt pride in his performance. He was proud of himself; the thought that this one jump could ruin it all was a daunting one and it began to press him down. The sound surrounding him was a muddy mess now, indistinguishable to the point of non-existent. The pressure was now a force, a touchable object pressing down on him.

"Shit I'm going too slow." He knew it, as did others watching him. As his feet came together and he began the rotation, he couldn't help but feel lightheaded. This was it. He was going to screw it up. This performance, this show that everyone had been talking about, this that would define his skating career, he was about to mess it up. Worst of all, he felt as if he were about to disappoint everyone... he was about to disappoint Victor...

Victor...

Victor...

"...Victor..."

He couldn't. If there's something, anything refused to do, it was to disappoint the man who had saved him. The man who had given him the heart of his career, only the pluck the one in his chest right out. To disappoint him would be to take that heart right back and tell him he wasn't allowed to have it. At least, this was how Yuuri felt. He refused. It just wasn't allowed.