Somebody To Blame

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@Officialnikiforovfanpage

@viktornikiforov Congrats on another gold! You surprised the Viks once again! Can't wait to see what stops you pull out for the GPF this year!

P.S folks; An inside source told me new merch will be dropping sometime next week! Make sure to keep your laptops open and ready so you can preorder!

8:12 am 10/21/19 • 78263 views

192 Retweets 29.9 k Likes 132 Bookmarks

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@Lockandkatsuki

Yuuri closed out with silver YALL!! Oh my god, I'm so proud of him. I just know he's gonna yank the gold right out of Viktor's hands at the GPF, cause let's be real, he's gonna make it.

9:04 am 10/21/19 • 612 views

45 Retweets 12.6 k Likes 22 Bookmarks

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@Nikiforovobvi

@lockandkatsuki Are you delusional, or just stupid babe ?? You really think that little kid has any chance at beating THE Viktor Nikiforov?? He got lucky this time cuz the federations are throwing a fit over the rumors surrounding Viktor atm, its obvious he was underscored. I'll give you the password to my Twitter if Yuuri even manages to podium in Russia, cause that'll be the day I marry John Legend and hit the lottery…

9:04 am 10/21/19 • 18073 views

2 Retweets 82 Likes 0 Bookmarks

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@Pumascorpionicetiger

@nikiforovobvi I guess you like to fight losing battles, да? To hell with the old man. Yuuri has more grace in his pinky toe than Viktor has in his whole body!! That bastard neglects his ballet, and it shows.

9:04 am 10/21/19 • 19 views

0 Retweets 3 Likes 0 Bookmarks

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@VikandVak

Viktor was spotted at the Harry Reid airport this morning! Look at how cute and sleepy he looks omg 🥹😭 His earmuffs are all crooked!! I love when he's disheveled, it makes him feel so much more approachable <3 have a safe flight back to Moscow @viktornikiforov !!< p>

A picture of Viktor walking through the airport next to Yakov and Aleksei, hand over his mouth as he yawns. He is sporting a maroon Burberry hoodie, minimalistic white Nike leggings and a pair of fluffy white earmuffs.

9:05 am 10/21/19 • 4328 views

22 Retweets 191 Likes 8 Bookmarks

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@Minakookukawa

@yuurikatsuki Look at my precious student, everyone! I'm so proud to have had the opportunity to train you as a boy, and I will forever rue the day you chose skating over dance, but I can see now that it's been your calling all along. Good luck at the Rosetelecom cup! ファイト!!

9:06 am 10/21/19 • 1286 views

14 Retweets 29 Likes 1 Bookmarks

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@Aruminartthou

Does any1 know what Yuuri's second assignment is? I can't find it anywhere online :( I'm tweaked rn stressing abt it bcuz, like, what if he's assigned to the Rostelecom Cup w/ Viktor?

9:06 am 10/21/19 • 1092 views

2 Retweets 102 Likes 1 Bookmarks

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@YuuriKatsuki

@Arminartthou My second assignment is actually the Rostelecom cup, haha :)). Don't worry! I'm going to fight my hardest and make you guys proud.

9:32 am 10/21/19 • 92306 views

82 Retweets 45.7 K Likes 78 Bookmarks

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The flight back to Detroit was hellish. Yuuri and Phichit were up until the wee hours of dawn being chewed out by their coach. Although Peach had tried to explain to Celestino that the blame rested on him, Yuuri was quick to pinch his thigh, entirely content to share the punishment.

It felt unfair for his best friend to be the only one who had to cope with the scolding considering the fact that he had only gotten into trouble for Yuuri's sake.

Flying from Las Vegas to Detroit wasn't a particularly tedious undertaking, not anywhere near as exhausting as an international flight, but it sucked nonetheless. Yuuri had too much on his mind and a painfully empty stomach wasn't helping matters. The only snacks offered were miniature cookies and biscuits, things that he was not to consume under any circumstance.

He would have to wait until they landed. There were plenty of overpriced vendors offering boiled eggs and wilted house salads at the Wayne airport, so he knew he could hold out.

Instead of lamenting on his misfortune , Yuuri opted to slip in his earbuds and scroll through Twitter. The podium photograph of the Skate America medalists was trending, many people commenting on Yuuri's nervous expression and Viktor's side eye.

They could speculate all they wanted, it wouldn't change a thing. There was a nagging fear that told Yuuri the prior night's altercation would pop up on his feed at any second, driving him to scroll until he was entirely caught up to date on the current happenings. He also took the time to respond to a few fans, as any good athlete would.

Phichit was passed out, quietly huffing out little snores as his head lolled onto Yuuri's shoulder and Ciao Ciao was giving the both of them his version of the silent treatment, meaning only speaking to them when absolutely necessary. Yuuri gave it a day, at most.

Once they arrived, two young devotees walked to the tram, patiently awaiting their ride to the parking lot where their coach's van awaited them. Yuuri was excited to sit in the comfortable, well-worn seats, far more used to their scratchy fabric than the shiny leather present in the rental they had been using in Las Vegas.

When they finally pulled up to Phichit and Yuuri's shared dorm, the weight of the world took one step back, finally allowing the boy to relish in a moment of total peace. The intangible bruises on his shoulders, purple and splotchy from carrying the pressure of expectation were given a chance to heal at long last.

Ciao Ciao drove off after helping them drag the heavy luggages upstairs, though still silent. Both boys went to their respective rooms in desperate need of some alone time. That's how it always was after competitions, a little ritual, if you will. The sound of a Thai musical soundtrack was bleeding through their shared wall. That was part of Phichit's personal ritual.

Yuuri raised his eyebrows, loosely running his fingers through the tangled brown locks atop his head, forcing the small knots to loosen before grabbing his laptop and plugging the noise canceling headphones Mari had sent him for Christmas into the device.

Opening Hulu, he was met with several options. He could watch 'Breaking Bad', or, his personal favorite, 'Nana', but they both felt a little too heavy at that moment.

Instead, his guilty fingers traced the mouse along the webpage until they rested upon the quick-link to a well kept secret vice; reality television, more specifically 'Love Island', the UK version, of course.

He'd no doubt die on the spot if anyone ever found out, but the mindless television and drama filled his little heart with glee. They caused so much trouble, and none of it involved him! Yuuri was free to eat it up without fear of consequence. So he did. For around six hours, the young boy binged season 2 and four with an aching hunger.

Yuuri lived for romance, but knew it was something not meant for him. The novels and comics he read during flights painted such lovely pictures of unconditional love, making him feel warm and giddy.

Oftentimes he'd have to set his phone, or book, down for a minute after stumbling across especially sweet scenes, you know the ones. Yuuri would bite his lip, silently squealing and scrunching his nose to avoid giggling aloud.

The thing about those stories is that they were just that; stories. Fiction based upon unrequited desire. He'd been in love only once, excluding the small case of puppy love he had experienced with Yuuko since they had spent so much time skating at the Ice Castle as children.

It wasn't mutual, but they had been best friends so he hadn't deluded himself into thinking it would be. Even when Yuuri confessed, tenderly pressing the second button of his uniform into the blonde's hands after their junior high graduation, he held no hope, rightfully so.

Thank god the boy had been so kind hearted, gently turning him down and softly pleading to remain friends, a wish Yuuri had granted happily.

It stung too much to think of him, though. Maybe Yuuri's aversion to real life romance had something to do with him and everything that had happened, not that he was ready to reflect on it. It was still too soon.

That's what Love Island was for, to erase that itty bitty yearning in a timely manner, cleanly cutting off the urge at the source. He was getting too sentimental so the boy stood up, closed his laptop and knocked on Phichit's door. No response, but that was fine. He was probably asleep.

The way normal people could just pass out was a mystery to Yuuri. In all honesty, he was a little jealous. If it took trading a finger for a year of decent rest, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

Shrugging it off, Yuuri threw on a coat to combat the light Autumn chill brewing beyond his front door, fiddling with the long sleeved polo he was wearing beneath until the fabric stopped bunching against the arms of the coat.

Satisfied, he stepped outside, unsure of where he was headed. Yuuri liked wandering aimlessly. If luck was on his side, there was a chance he'd find a fun new hideaway to retreat to.

The first leg of the journey wasn't anything special, just the same street signs and crowded streets that he woke up to everyday, but by taking a spontaneous right at the intersection three blocks down, he was in unfamiliar territory.

The buildings looked older than what he was used to seeing, brick visages crowded with thick vines. The taller buildings upper story windows had metal bars, most likely an outdated safeguard against suicide.

Staring down at the concrete, Yuuri couldn't help the morbid thought that he may be standing atop a slab that someone had landed on, life snuffed out in a single second. How many had jumped from the buildings above? It made him sick to his stomach.

He wasn't of the religious sort, but Yuuri still found himself muttering a few consolations to the unnamed and possibly nonexistent victims, sentiment being that it was better safe than sorry.

Yuuri was almost positive that he felt a sordid grief rumbling through the earth below, the only thing the miserable souls had left behind to prove they had existed in the first place.

Lengthening his strides, Yuuri retreated from the building's shadows and found himself even more lost than he had been before. That was the point, though, so he considered it a win. Pausing underneath a Paisley print awning, the boy looked for any places of interest.

An old coffee shop, or an art gallery would be ideal. A rusted sign hanging from the awning of a yellow brick building drew him near, nondescript storefront piquing his curious mind.

He entered quietly, feeling as if he was intruding on a liminal space that was perpetually frozen in time. The smell of mildew and archaic paper filled his nose along with a faint hint of incense, the same kind Phichit burned at home after a particularly brutal day at the rink.

The walls were a deep burgundy. The corners of the room, where one wall met another, told a tale of times before, red paint chipping away in dainty flecks to reveal a hidden layer of wood. A worn wooden staircase sat nestled between the far right wall and a bookshelf, and next to it, a desk and lantern.

Yuuri was convinced he'd stepped back in time a hundred years, give or take. Was figure skating a thing back then?

"Oh my! Welcome, welcome! What can I do ya' for, my dear?"

Startling at the sudden singsong voice, Yuuri bumped against one of the many trinket lined shelves that lined the room. A young woman with thick brown curls tenderly tied up into a loose bun was peeking down the staircase, golden hoop earrings swaying as she shifted the weight of the books she was balancing against her hips from one side to another.

"Oh, I was just checking the place out. Do you need help with those? I think… it'd be dangerous to try and walk downstairs carrying them all yourself."

Yuuri was a little worried that he had overstepped, but there's nothing wrong with being polite, right? Still, there was always the risk that it would come off as 'let the big strong man do the work for you, oh fair maiden'.

"That would be lovely, thank you! I've already taken a tumble twice this week, it's only a matter of time before I break an ankle."

He cringed at her words, lightly jogging to the staircase with haste, fearing she'd change her mind and take fall number three right before his eyes. Now that he was closer, the boy could make out her features. She had sage green eyes and lightly tanned skin, cheeks tinged pink by the warm air wafting down from the attic she was situated in.

Yuuri suddenly felt a little nervous. He never did well around pretty people, it was like his tongue became swollen, preventing coherent words from forming and making intelligent conversation impossible. Instead of speaking, he held his arms out, gingerly accepting half of what she was holding.

"Where do you want me to put them?"

"If you could set them on that metal cart near my desk, that'd be perfect!"

"Mm, ok."

They repeated these steps four more times before everything was successfully relocated downstairs. Task completed, Yuuri was back to feeling out of place. The woman was pouring two cups of tea from an old kettle, adding a splash of milk and honey to one and leaving the other as is.

"Do you take anything in your tea, Mister Katsuki?"

"No thank you, I'll have it plain. I'm trying to-" Yuuri cut himself off, belatedly processing the words she had spoken. Had he mentioned his name? Definitely not, if he had, she would have called him Yuuri.

"Um, are you a fan of figure skating?"

"Well that came out of nowhere. I mean, I don't have anything against it, if that's what you're asking." She giggled out, raising her eyebrows in an amused visage.

"Oh, I just meant-" The 'pretty person effect' was becoming hard to handle, pushing Yuuri to second guess every word out of his own mouth. Maybe he had imagined it? That made no sense, though, it had come out as clear as day. Only a narcissist would hallucinate a stranger saying their name with such familiarity.

"How do you know my name?"

"I'm a psychic."

Well how was he meant to respond to that? Was she a dodgy scam artist or just nuts? Instead of voicing his less than kind speculations aloud, Yuuri opted for a simple "… What?"

"You don't believe in that sorta thing?"

"Um, I don't know, it just seems a little… are you screwing with me?"

"Yeah. You're wearing a lanyard around your neck with a picture of you and your name on it, babe."

Equally relieved and embarrassed, Yuuri bit down on his lower lip, hiding his flushed cheeks with his sweaty hands. She must think he's the crazy one. As he opened his mouth to apologize, reflexively giving a slight bow, miss no name blurted out "I am a psychic, though."

Oh, so she was off her rocker.

"Wipe that look off your face, it doesn't suit you. Come here, let me see your hands. You're giving off some crazy intense vibes, I'll do a reading for you, free of charge, of course, since you were kind enough to help me out!"

Now, Yuuri was naive, but he wasn't brain dead. Only a total moron would fall for a scam as obvious as this, but the real issue was finding a way to get out of it. Yuuri was a notorious 'yes man' when it came to those outside his inner circle. Unable to conjure up an excuse, he did his best to politely decline.

"I'm sorry, miss…"

"Chloe. Chloe Allison."

"Uhuh, I'm sorry Miss Allison, but I've got to run-"

"You're a bad liar. Sit down for me, ok? I have to grab my pendulum and cards. Don't touch any of the crystals, I spent all morning cleansing them."

Ah, so he was doomed. Well, he could live without the fifty dollars she would undoubtedly demand at the end of this. He had already been planning on cutting his food budget down, anyways. Maybe the fates were just helping him stick to the plan.

Oh god, he was starting to sound like the madwoman, is whatever she has contagious? Yuuri didn't have time to find out since she returned just as quickly as she had left, setting a stout and unassuming white candle on the plate to her left. Lighter in hand, Chloe set it's wick ablaze with practiced ease.

"Alright! So what question do you have for them?" Asked Chloe, vigorously shuffling the cards against one another, cutting them with her thumb every so often, only to repeat the process all over again. The candle's flame reflected off the card's fine gold foil lining.

"Them? Who is 'them'?"

"Are you blind? The cards, darling."

Yuuri's instinct was to bite back at her condescending tone, but he managed to hold it in, as he always did. She was staring at him, eyes expectant. She wasn't just crazy, but pushy as well. They were cards, for Christ's sake. It's not like they were sentient.

"Really, you wander into a tiny bookstore, all alone, and you don't have any questions about your life or where it's headed?"

He had plenty of questions. Would he ever find the strength within himself to skate with total confidence? If he did, would it be the key to beating Viktor?

What expression would Viktor wear as Yuuri stared down at him from the highest perch on the podium? Really, he had an abundance of questions, but none he felt compelled to share with the basket case sitting in front of him.

Instead of drawing out his own suffering, Yuuri decided it would be best to humor Chloe. He racked his brain for a shallow inquiry to satiate her strange desire to psychoanalyze him.

"Ok, so can you tell me if-"

"Stop. I can tell whatever question you're about to ask isn't of any true importance. You may have preemptively made your mind up on how you feel about the cards, but they haven't settled on how they feel about you. It's fine if you don't have any questions for the cards, Yuuri Katsuki, however, I am sure they have questions for you."

Could she get any more unsettling? A chill replaced any sense of comfort that the strong tea he was sipping on had to offer. Chloe didn't look to be much older than Yuuri, but he felt so young in her presence.

It was as if her spirit had been tasked with examining his own, meticulously surveying each crack and crevice with proficient precision and intention.

"The Chariot - fascinating. Not a card I would expect to see, but one I'm positive will please you nonetheless."

Chloe held one of the flimsy slips between two fingers, rotating it into Yuuri's field of vision. An anamorphic cheetah draped with elegant garb was depicted on the card's face, staff in hand.

The same gold foil that lined the edges of the card had been painted into a 'VII' at the foot of the drawing. Seven? Was that a bad thing? Not that it mattered. Though the art was eye-catching, any tale it told was little more than make-believe.

"You possess a strong sense of direction, self-control, and self-discipline. There is a goal you seek to achieve, and you are dead-set on doing so, no?"

It was an accurate assessment, but one any quack could pull out of their ass on the spot. Most people had hopes and dreams, so Chloe was probably saying the same practiced lines that she had spewed to many other innocents who had unwittingly wandered into her little shop of horrors.

"But your desire for victory, at any cost, is based upon the ever wavering emotions of other people, sentiments you carved into yourself."

So she wasn't done? If he wanted a therapy session, he'd have given into Ciao Ciao's nagging. Walking into this book shop was not a cry for help, and at this point, it was turning out to be a huge mistake.

"Your pride was hurt, therefore your new goal, henceforth, has shifted into reckless drive to restore it. You are intent on proving your abilities, constantly seeking to make and maintain progress. You want - no, you need - mastery, conquest, triumph , and you will push yourself into a place beyond human limitations in the pursuit of such."

Was that even English? Triumph sounded great and all, but Yuuri knew he'd have to search it out for himself, not grow complacent due to some hippy's pretty words. Before he had the chance to fake understanding, the sound of a soft plick caught his attention. Chloe had dropped one of her precious cards, serves her right.

"Do you know what it means when a card jumps out on its own volition?"

"It means they see something in me." Offered Yuuri in a monotone reply.

Instead of commenting on Yuuri's lack of enthusiasm, Chloe beamed, holding the card up to his face, exclaiming "Correct, well almost!"

Well, fancy that. Maybe he should drop the whole skating gig and take up wizardry. He'd eventually marry into a real nice family of witches and warlocks, settling down in a cozy little swamp once they reached retirement age.

"Oh my… you've caught the tower's attention."

Did this mean he was in for another monologue? Yuuri didn't know if he could cope with any more crazy. He already had too many issues of his own, who knows what could happen if someone filled his head with even more fear. The world may end, or he'd lose a little sleep, at least.

"What that means is you, my love, will reach that success, that triumph, inevitably,"

She paused before continuing, intentionally plastering her words with a suspenseful rise in intonation.

"…And then you will risk losing it all. The Tower represents drastic, unexpected change. You will be thrown down from your place upon whatever pedestal you seek. All the emotions you have kept a tight lid on will erupt out of you, and it will result in the destruction of something - or someone, possibly yourself. The pressure you have placed upon your own shoulders, the animalistic urge to pursue success will continue to rise within you, and amidst your inner turmoil, you will be forced to clean up the resulting mess."

Yuuri didn't care to respond. So she had finally been put off by his distaste and decided to scare him out of his wits? Some help she was.

"People are always afraid when I pull Death, but this," Chloe tapped the card with the tips of her bright acrylic nails, "is the card you should really be afraid to see."

"Got it. I'm gonna beat Vi- I'm gonna be successful, then I'll squander it all to shit. Duly noted. Thanks." He hadn't fought to keep the bite out of his town, instead pushing the words past his teeth like a rabid dog, each consonant coming out with clipped venom.

"Don't take offense. I have good intentions, I can tell that you're smart enough to see that. You shouldn't let your emotions control you like that, it'll only lead to a quicker fall from grace."

"What do you want? Money? Take my money and leave me be, please. I'm tired, I spent hours on a plane only to end up trapped here instead of sleeping, like I should have. You spelled out my misfortune with your cheap little parlor tricks, you got a rise out of me. No kind deed goes unpunished, I guess."

Yuuri knew he was rambling, but he didn't care. He wouldn't let Viktor's words reach him here, this town, this space was his own. The older skater had no place in his mind, not when he was thousands of miles away.

"I don't want anything. Well, I'd like for you to be happy. I think most people deserve a chance at happiness, you included. You have a unique way about you, your aura reads so pure, almost like that of a child. How could someone with such a kind heart be deserving of a fortune so cruel? I'm curious, to be honest."

Chloe pulled out a piece of paper and scratched something into it. She placed it into his palm, holding her own hand around his for a moment in what seemed like an act of goodwill, or maybe even comfort. She could placate her guilt on her own, Yuuri didn't care to comfort someone who had worked him up into such a tizzy.

"Take my number. Next time something big happens, you'll know what it is, come back here. I'll have a good luck charm ready, ok?"

Instead of responding, the boy pulled his hand away, harshly shoving the piece of script into his pocket without a second thought. Yuuri stumbled out of the shop, out of sorts from the ominous predictions Chloe had spring upon him. It was nothing more than pointless babble, he hadn't the time to worry about imaginary threats, not when so many real ones were looming over his head.

The boy leaned against a rusted pillar supporting the awning of some gimmicky coffee shop as he pulled up the directions for his dorm, more than ready to knock out for a few hours. That was, if Phichit would let him. He had gotten rest while Yuuri explored.

Walking back to his home left Yuuri dazed. If only he'd never left. Suddenly, he understood why salary workers numbed their minds with alcohol. Had he been of legal age, Yuuri would definitely have drunk to forget the outrageous series of events he had been involved in.

Instead of knocking on Peach's door to signal his return, Yuuri tiptoed into his room, desperately hoping he had been quiet enough to avoid detection. It didn't take more than ten minutes for him to pass out, a record time.

His sleep was dreamless, something he rarely had the pleasure of enjoying. Anxiety had a habit of creeping into his dreams, toying with him even in slumber. The universe must have known he was one bad dream away from going off the grid for a few months.

Having gotten a good night's rest, Yuuri awoke at around four in the morning. The dawn's faint orange light was dappling his bedroom's green curtains, causing them to look like a piece of art, the kind you'd see in an old German storybook.

They resembled a forest, swaying in the wind, or more accurately, the fan's breeze. He'd start his day in the rink, arriving by 7:30 with Peach in tow. After that, he had two in-person classes that required his attendance, and then he would go to the local gym for a good workout, ending the day with a light dinner after cleaning up the dorm.

Yuuri was a creature of habit. If a single part of his routine was neglected or moved around, he would be uneasy for a week. His system worked, so when it was disrupted, he fell out of equilibrium. Returning from Skate America meant returning to routine, and it was with that sentiment that he welcomed the day.

The smell of freshly burnt toast and spices that wafted in through the small slotted opening of his bedroom door tempted him to leave the comfort of his sheets.

Usually he was the one who made breakfast, but Phichit was a talented chef, so Yuuri had no qualms about the small change of pace. Brain only half awake, he stumbled out into the living room, tripping over the shoes he had discarded by the dining room table the night prior.

"Good morning sunshine! You're up bright and early."

Instead of giving a proper response, Yuuri gave a small grunt of agreement. Being a night owl, he rarely had time to sit down and eat, much less converse.

"Where were you yesterday?"

Did Yuuri have the energy to recap the story of Chloe Allison? It would make for much better conversation around lunchtime when he could speak without slurring, but if he brushed Peach off with an 'I'll tell you later', the younger skater would harass him until he finally spilled. So, to the best of his ability, he recalled what had happened aloud.

Once he had finished explaining, Peach interjected with a quiet "You know… I believe in that sorta stuff. Why did you discredit her so fast?"

Yuuri shrugged, eyes unfocused as he helped his best friend set the ceramic plates loaded with freshly cooked eggs and toast atop the dinghy dining room table. Did he need a reason to be wary of a stranger? He'd rather be curt and standoffish than naïve. Yuuri had been put in undesirable situations more than once due to his conflict avoidant nature. Wasn't it about time he stood up for himself?

While Phichit gobbled up four pieces of toast and a half dozen eggs, Yuuri nibbled on a small serving of the scramble and avoided the bread completely.

Unlike the younger skater, he needed to focus on weight loss, not muscle gain. If he could lose another fifteen pounds before the Rostelecom cup, he'd probably pull off his quads with ease, free of the weight he was used to carrying. How nice it would be to feel a little less self conscious while skating in his tight costume. Instead of subtly bending at certain angles for the sake of cosmetics, he could focus entirely on the performance itself.

Once they had finished breakfast and washed the dishware, the two set off for the rink. Ciao Ciao finally spoke to them, but only when correcting their on-ice mistakes. Yuuri felt he made a little progress with 'Let's Go Crazy', but once he began running through 'The Room Where It Happens', his inner dancer came to life.

Something new and exciting was pushing Yuuri to move in ways he hadn't previously explored, using the momentum of his body as an advantage rather than a hindrance. Peach took notice immediately, hyping him up enthusiastically as Yuuri went through the emotions.

"Stop, Yuuri."

Too focused on perfection to notice his coach's voice over the music, Yuuri continued on, testing the waters even further. If he skated without fear, it was possible to advance the technical components of his program further, hopefully before he was face to face with Viktor once more. The music cut out sharply just as the chorus began to build.

"You're done for the day. Cool your head."

Surprised, Yuuri choked out "What? Why? I'm kind of kicking ass right now, I don't want to lose my momentum."

"Your skating is fine. It is your expression that's lacking. Something is off today. I don't want it to become a habit, so we are nipping it in the bud."

The teen held a deep rooted respect for his coach, so he sucked it up and did as he was told without further complaint.

Celestino had several decades worth of wisdom and experience on Yuuri. Although it felt like a huge waste of time to quit so early in the day, he knew it was likely for the best.

Stopping to cheer Phichit on, leaning over the rink's blockade, Yuuri couldn't help but feel like a proud parent as the boy's slight frame flew into the air, nailing a triple flip-quad toe loop combo. He'd be joining seniors soon, and anyone who dared underestimate him would regret it.

Phichit's training wouldn't end for another two hours, so Yuuri decided to hit the library to get in some extra study time. The rest of the day blurred into a heated haze. His professor's words felt like TV static in his brain, going in one ear and out the other, his workout passing in a similar fashion. As 9:00 p.m rolled around, he found himself scrolling mindlessly, first on Twitter and then on Tiktok.

He'd never even posted a video, preferring to operate in the background under a nondescript pseudonym. That would need to change soon if he wanted to build a proper image of himself for the public.

It was all part of the game he was expected to play, and if he could replicate even a fraction of Viktor's charm, Yuuri was sure he could achieve a larger fanbase. He'd have to find his own niche, of course, but creating a Yuuri Katsuki people could love was a challenge he was willing to tackle for the sake of his career.

Yuuri bit the inside of his cheek, short nails resting cautiously over the keyboard as he resisted the urge to type Viktor's username into the search bar. Should he keep his enemies close the same way Chris does, or would it be best to unfollow Viktor and subscribe to an 'out of sight, out of mind' mindset? The more mature option would be to leave things as is, but did Yuuri really care about that?

Battle lost, he told himself it would be just a peek, to scout out the competition. Thirty minutes and around forty videos later, Yuuri came to a simple conclusion. Clothing. He needed to update his wardrobe.

Even Viktor's sweats and workout clothes were well thought out. He always looked so… put together . On the contrary, even in the few expensive pieces that he owned, Yuuri looked messy. Instead of focusing on the big brands and basics of his style, Yuuri would need to figure out how to look cohesive, mature.

Unlike Viktor, he couldn't afford a stylist, not yet anyways, and he didn't have the body type to pull off a lot of the skin tight clothing the Russian was known to sport. He'd have to find a style that was right for him, something that made him look classy and elevated.

Feeling out of his depth, the boy opened the safari app on his phone and typed out 'elevated mens fashion, affordable'. Several articles popped up, but he chose to scroll down a little further.

There were several repeated phrases and descriptions that popped out at him, but the one that seemed the most fitting was 'the old money look'. Now, Yuuri was the furthest thing from old money, but if he could replicate the style with cheap substitutes, it was unlikely anyone would be able to tell the difference.

It felt shallow and unfamiliar, causing a flash of imposter syndrome to bubble underneath his skin, but it was a necessary evil. If Yuuri stayed as he was, nothing would change, and he couldn't have that. There were too many things wrong with him in his rawest form.

Although Yuuri couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, there was something missing, not just aesthetically, but internally. It was possible he had been born that way, like a printer that had run out of ink halfway through the printing process, or he could have been stained beyond salvation by one of the unpleasant events of his formative years.

Whatever it was, he had to conceal it. Nobody could find out about what he lacked. People seemed to smell it on him, the fear and insecurity. They instinctively knew that Yuuri Katsuki was incomplete. No matter how hard he fought to purge the shame away, the world could see through him as if he were made of stained glass.

He would set things right, this time. Yuuri knew just where to find the inspiration. It was time to download Pinterest.

The endeavor drew itself out over the course of six hours, lasting well past midnight as Yuuri obsessed over his choices, simultaneously learning how to use the app throughout the process. He had around five hundred dollars filed away for emergencies. This was a class A emergency in his book.

Keeping his plans for weight loss in mind, Yuuri ordered clothes a size smaller than he would typically wear. A lot of the pieces were more androgynous, and he stuck to more muted tones, beiges and blacks with a little white sprinkled in the mix. It didn't stop at clothing, though. The boy thoroughly researched trendy hairstyles and jewelry, impulsively making an appointment for a haircut and piercing.

Celestino would probably throw a fit about the sudden shift in his appearance, telling Yuuri he didn't need to change himself for anybody, but those kind sentiments didn't extend to the rest of the world.

Other people did expect Yuuri to change for them, and that was just fine. He was a public figure, he knew what he had signed up for when he chose to live a life that would throw him into the spotlight. It was only now that he fully comprehended what that entailed.

A week and some change later, Yuuri found himself in a local tattoo and piercing salon, hair freshly trimmed and gelled back in soft chestnut waves. Today was going to mark the beginning of everything, the day Yuuri became the person he was meant to be.

"Welcome in! Do you have an appointment with us today?" Asked a petite blonde with faded pink streaks dotted throughout her layered bob.

"Um, Yeah, I made one under the name 'Yuuri Katsuki?" His voice came out shaky, sounding more like a question than a statement. "I'm here to get my ears pierced."

"Perfect! Jonathon has everything all set up for you in the back. Right this way, sir."

Taking one last look at the designs lining the walls, Yuuri took a deep breath and stood up straight, slipping into the confident persona he had spent the last week crafting. No better time to practice than the present.

"Perfect, thank you."