Archive of Our Own

I'm the king of my own country

But that thought makes me blue

Because I'll be alone throughout all

Of the burdens I have to go through

Japan was… quite different.

It wasn’t like Viktor thought Japan wasn’t beautiful, god no. As Viktor looked around now, he knew could spend all day marveling at the beauty and wonder the foreign country held. He’d just thought that Japan was quite a jump from Russia, with the new language and the different cultures set in. However, he loved the lanterns and the cute accents, along with the courteous people that greeted them once they arrived.

The overly hospitable behavior shouldn’t surprise Viktor anymore, considering he’s a Tsarevich of Russia, the heir to the throne.

Why was he in Japan in the first place, you may ask?

If you were to ask Viktor, the only answer you would probably get from him was: it’s because my parents wanted me to be here.

The moment the Russian monarchy has stepped off the plane, they were immediately greeted by the friendly power couple of the nation, the Emperor and Empress of Japan (accompanied by their battalion of guards, of course).

“お久しぶりですね! Old friend, how are you!” The pudgy Japanese emperor greets Viktor’s father with a half-hearted pat on the back, which his father chuckles at as they both exchange casual greetings. Viktor was surprised at how well his parents went along with the Imperial Family, considering how serious and stoic they usually are around other government officials. Is it maybe because they had some history together?

Or is it maybe because Viktor was going to be married to their son?

“Ah, let’s not forget our future son-in-law.” The Empress says as she addresses Viktor, a smile on her soft face and a twinge of an accent in her voice. Viktor is unsure on what he would feel at the word ‘son-in-law’, but he figured if this woman was going to be his mother in law, then he’d have no problem with it. Her smile is enough to warm the whole airport. “My, you look so young! Are you sure he’s already twenty seven?”

“Bah, he is, but he acts like he’s twelve from time to time.” His father remarks, and the whole of them laugh. Viktor rolls his eyes, but he smiles nonetheless as he goes to shake both of their hands.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your highness.” He says softly, but his eyes wander and he realizes that it was only just the two of them (not considering the numerous bodyguards) with no Japanese Prince in sight.

“Excuse me, but may I ask, where is the Crown Prince? I’m quite curious on seeing my betrothed, considering we’ve never met before.” Viktor asks, adding in the last line for good measure.

The Empress sighs vehemently, her short brown locks waving in the wind. “Unfortunately, he’s unable to accompany us today since he has business matters to attend to in Fukuoka. But hopefully, we’d be with him soon!”

_-_

Soon, they are whisked away unto a very exquisite limousine. The royal couple had stated that Viktor and the Tsar and Empress of Russia would be staying in one of the vacant luxurious guest lots that stood near their palace until the engagement party were to be held in a week, which was followed by the wedding. During the whole duration of the ride, they were offered good commentary about the different sceneries and the landmarks that adorned the whole country.

Viktor was in some sort of awe the whole ride, taking in the beautiful sights and the colors and the beautiful cherry blossoms and the adorable welcome banners. Russia was beautiful, but Japan was extraordinary. No wonder the country was considered as one of the most well off nations in the world. The Imperial Family must’ve been doing such a good job at keeping the country stable. Was that the reason on why Russia and Japan had decided to marry them off? In order to put in a much more secure alliance between the two?

Who was Viktor kidding? Of course that was why.

And Viktor knew he didn’t have much of a choice either. He had to do his parents’ wishes. He knew it was good for the country of Russia, too. An alliance with Japan would be good for the economy. He was just hoping that the Crown Prince would actually be pretty nice, and not everything horrible poured into one person.

_-_

They had an exquisite dinner once they arrived at the palace, a beautiful structure set by the sea. Viktor figured he was in heaven for a moment when he tried the dishes. He was often held back in Russia, his needed dietary rations often held him back from eating whatever he wanted. So he savored every flavor, every crisp bite, and every exquisite dish that entered his mouth. His particular favorite, however, was this heavenly rice bowl that made Viktor almost orgasm.

“That’s a katsudon, or pork cutlet bowl.” The Emperor says, smiling. “It’s our dear son’s favorite dish too.”

Viktor nods, already knowing a bit more about the Prince. However, he does not want to think about the inevitable, so he focuses on the dish.

Afterwards, it was late into the evening. They all bid each other goodnight, and a chauffeur picks the Russian family up and they drive back to one of the luxurious guest cabins nearby the palace. There, Viktor basks in the fluffy beds and the amazing wifi. Viktor buries himself into one of the many plush chairs of the cabin, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. He was a little thankful for the alone time, with his parents in another room of the cabin. They would probably scold him for being on the internet. One of the many down sides of being famous is that you have to be extra, extra, careful on the internet.

So now here he was; skimming through the news and the other related affairs that were going on in Russia. Some celebrity got plastic surgery, a sports team lost and another won. As a fan of figure skating, he looked up the Short Program scores for the Olympics and found that Yura had placed a solid second place; if he did well in his Free Skate then they might win Gold. He texts a quick message to his green eyed friend as a good luck and congratulations, before continuing on scrolling. He goes through many news articles, getting himself lost in the bizarre actuality of the world. One ambassador was sued for shouting obscenities at a child; another got broke for donating too much, another got imprisoned. The number of government related articles were too numerous for him to count.

It doesn’t take long for him to find an article particularly about him

Viktor Nikiforov; future Tsar, engaged?

Viktor frowns, and sets the phone down. He doesn’t want to read that article, not anymore. And no, the word ‘engaged’ isn’t the one that shakes him, but ‘future Tsar’ does.

Every time he is reminded that he will eventually have the weight of Russia on his shoulders, he tends to shiver at the thought. The crushing reality of the situation would often time get to him, and he tends to often feel suffocated.

He does not know if he would be a good Leader.

He shakes his head, as if trying to get the thought out of his mind, and he stands up and heads for his parents’ bedroom. Thankfully, when he enters, they weren’t doing anything remotely obscene. He asks permission if he could go to a nearby rink and maybe skate around for a bit. He could if he had three guards with him, at the barest minimum. Viktor was about to protest, but he was in a foreign country and going out and about without somebody guarding him would be a bad idea.

So he complied. He looked up the various skating rinks that were still open, and he found one right by the borders of Hasetsu, the town that held the Palace. The rink looked isolated enough so Viktor hoped that there wouldn’t be that much people, especially since it was already late at night.

Grabbing a small duffel bag, his skates, a medical mask, a hoodie, and several bodyguards, he requests for a driver and off they go.

_-_

Thankfully, the place was completely empty.

The minute Viktor entered through the glass sliding doors, the whole locker area was empty save for the staff member by the counter. The woman with dark red hair raised a questioning eyebrow at the armada of men behind Viktor whilst confirming that yes, we are still open.  Viktor felt a little happy, wanting to feel the cold air slice through his skin again.

Viktor had always loved figure skating, loved being graceful and carefree on the ice. He’d taken classes for fun back then as a teen, and he’d found out that he genuinely enjoyed the sport. However, he never actually competed due to his conflicting schedule as a Tsarevich. Meanwhile his young friend and youth parliament advisor, Yuri Plisetsky, has made history multiple times in his career as a professional figure skater. He’d always been there to support him, and often times the world would be shook whenever he’d attend the competitions to watch.

Chuckling softly as he tied on his skates, Viktor reminisces that last time when he suddenly showed up at the 2012’s Worlds and the whole world simply fainted in shock. Yuri, however, was blushing and seething at him for ‘causing such a ruckus’. He didn’t mind that other people murmured and asked for pictures, he loved figure skating and would watch it millions of times.

He’d told his guards that they could just sit by the locker area or maybe even skate if they want to, he’ll be done in about two hours or so. Then, bouncing in excitement, he enters the rink area.

He is not alone.

There’s someone else in the rink. Only one person, though. Viktor could barely make out the blur of the person due to the constant… beautiful… moving holy fuck-

Viktor’s eyes widened as he watched the beautiful man gracefully slide across the ice, moving about with practiced ease and inclined grace. Every move, every glide, every step seemed calculated and natural all at once. The rink seemed silent, but the endless music emanated from this man’s body. Every movement of his arms, every swing of his hips, and every step of his legs let out another note that harmonized with the melody.

Viktor found himself walking further to look at the view better, almost leaning over the barrier between him and the ice. He couldn’t see much, but he could see the loose practice clothes this man has and also the dark black tousled hair.

The man moves to a spread eagle, angling himself near the barrier of the rink, and Viktor figured he must’ve spotted him because the man flailed a little before going in for a jump. Viktor winces as the man goes sprawling painfully on the ice, letting out a pained yelp.

Viktor immediately moves, gliding unto the ice and scrambling to get to the man, which was not that hard since the man landed near the entrance of the rink. “Are you alright? Did you break anything?” He asks, voice laced with worry.

The man shakily holds himself up with quivering arms, head turned down but Viktor could see the pained grimace on his face. “Do you need help? Do I have to call for the staff-“

The man raises his head, soft brown eyes locked unto his blue ones, and Viktor’s breath is taken away.

“O-Oh… Um-“The man manages to get himself fully seated upright, and Viktor marvels at his soft voice laced with a small accent. “I-I’m alright, thank you.”

“A-Are you sure?” Viktor mentally slaps himself for stuttering. The man simply nods, smiling hesitantly as he stands up, brushing the ice off his (cute) butt. The man reaches over, and grabs the pair of glasses that sat by the top barrier.

As Viktor watches the man blink blearily as he puts on his glasses, Viktor infers three things: 1.) This was a beautiful, beautiful man in front of him 2.) His ice skating is so amazing Viktor felt like he could cry, and that was an understatement because the only times he cried where when he watched the Lion King and when sad dog commercials showed up on the T.V 3.) He wears glasses????? And he looks even better in them?????? How????

The man’s brown eyes latched onto him, and Viktor was a little surprised at the gasp that the man gave out. Viktor raised an eyebrow when the dark haired male took a few steps back, almost like in fear.

“What? Is there something wrong-“

“N-No!” The man bursts out, freezing in place as he looks torn for a moment, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. “I… I mean, um.” The man clears his throat before going in for a low bow. Viktor holds off a small, strangled-esque sound in his throat.

“W-What-“

“M-Mr. Viktor Nikiforov, Tsarevich of Russia?” The man says meekly, looking up from his bow. Viktor freezes for a moment, still a little conflicted and confused. “The news said you’d be arriving today and… um…”

“No, no. It’s okay.” Viktor places a hand on the man’s shoulder. He frowns when the man flinches a little under his touch. “Please, don’t… You don’t have to… You know.” Viktor gestures to the whole of him. “It’s a little awkward for me from time to time too?”

The man nods, and moves from his bow. “S-Sorry Your Highness-“

“It’s alright.” Viktor offers a warm smile. “You know; since it’s just the two of us, just call me Viktor okay?” He winks, smiling at the small flush that emanated on the boy’s soft face. He looks adorable, and Viktor could not deny.

“O-Okay, Your- I mean! V-Viktor.” The man says his name almost like in experimental way, rolling out the syllables and Viktor finds that he likes the sound of his name from this man’s mouth.

Viktor clears his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I saw your skating, you’re really good! May I ask, are you competing or anything?”

The man’s eyes widened for a moment, looking at him intrigued. “Y-You saw me skate? B-But…” The man trailed off, looking at his shoes- skates, he means. “No, I don’t compete. I mainly skate just for fun.”

“Really?” Viktor asks questionably. Figure skating was quite an expensive sport, so Viktor figures that whoever this person may be, he must be very well off, considering the fact that he doesn’t even bother to compete. “Why not?”

“O-Oh, I’m…” The man scratches the back of his neck considerably. “Uh, let’s just say that… I’m a very busy person.” The man shrugs, fidgeting a bit under Viktor’s gaze. Viktor is a little curious on what he meant.

Viktor hears a faint buzz from somewhere, and he sees the man pull out his phone from his pocket to inspect what probably looked like a text message.

“I have to go, uh…” The man scrambles off the ice, like the ice was burning a sizzling brand unto his skin. Viktor raises an eyebrow. “It was nice to meet you Your Maje- I mean, Viktor. But I have to-“

“Wait-“ Viktor reaches out and makes an effort to grab the man’s arm, his grip gentle yet insistent.

“What’s your name?”

The man’s eyes widened for a moment, gaze flitting from the hand that was grasped around his arm to the blue eyes of the Russian Prince. Viktor tried his best to look as pleading as possible as he tried not to drown in the dark brown pools that was the man’s eyes, brown eyes that were laced with panic.

“U-Uh…” A pretty little blush dusted this man’s face. “I don’t have a name.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.

“I-I’m serious!” The man stutters out, and Viktor snorts.

“You don’t have a name.” Viktor deadpans. “Or you just won’t tell me?”

“Somewhere in between.” The man smiles cheekily, panic still in his eyes. He gently pries off Viktor’s arm, bowing so fast Viktor thought the man tripped. “I-I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

With that, the man runs off, leaving Viktor confused.

_-_

The man doesn’t leave Viktor’s mind for the rest of the drive home.

Afterwards the incident, Viktor is left to skate lazy circles around the rink all by himself. On a different occasion, he would’ve been happy to have the rink all to himself. He could sing and dance around and act like no one is watching because nobody is watching. But when the man left, the rink felt like the Arctic. Viktor already missed the music that emanated from this man’s body, missed the sound of ice chipping under skates that weren’t his own.

After approximately two hours, he’d headed home like he promised. However, once he’d sat in the comfortable backseat of the rental cars the Imperial Family’s given them, the whole reality of the situation donned itself into Viktor.

Why was that man avoiding him like some parasite? Viktor didn’t even do anything particularly wrong, except for compliment him and maybe ask his name and… Oh my god, did Viktor sound like a creep?

Viktor tried not to cringe as he stared out the window, watching the clear night sky and the moon to prevent him from slamming his head against the tinted car window. God, Viktor did sound like a creep! No wonder he sprinted away. But Viktor didn’t look like a pervert or anything… did he? Yeah his forehead was giant but h e l l o, CG has repeatedly branded him as ‘one of the most yummylicious bachelors to ever walk the earth’ so that’s that.

But he wanted to see that man again, wanted to see him skate again, and maybe have an actual conversation with him, and maybe he’d have another friend to invite to his supposed arranged marriage.

_-_

The next morning, the Russian family and the Imperial Couple were called together to arrange the paperwork’s and other paraphernalia needed for the marriage. Viktor was slightly disgruntled, not wanting to scrounge through endless boring discussions on what sort of ivory they should use, but he knew he had no choice. Maybe he’d be able to see his husband-to-be for once goddamnit it.

After breakfast, a chauffeur picks them up from the cabin and they all head to the actual palace, which was almost a block away for fuck’s sake. Viktor could’ve walked all the way there himself, however, being the spoiled royalty that they are apparently they aren’t allowed to use their legs. So they squeeze into the car for a five minute drive to the palace.

However, as the car rolls up to the front gates, another car was parked there. There, they see the Emperor and Empress talking with someone; Viktor could not tell because his back was faced to them and all Viktor could see was the man’s suit and dark black hair. The Empress gives the man a hug, before sliding inside the car before Viktor could see a glimpse of the man.

As the other car rolls away, Viktor’s car drives in place where the other car used to be. They all step out, the Imperial Couple greeting them cheerily.

“Oh, that’s too bad! Our Yuuri just left, we should’ve made him stay for a while longer so he could greet all of you! Especially you, Viktor.” The Emperor throws a wink at the blue eyes man. Viktor merely offers a nod and a smile, but his attention was diverted to the car that was innocently driving away, the car that held his supposed fiancé.

_-_

After the meeting, Viktor immediately goes for the internet and he looks up ‘Katsuki Yuuri’.

As Viktor impatiently waits for the screen to load up, he is filled with some sort of anticipation. What would he see? What would he read? He knew if he wanted to learn more about his fiancé, he should’ve asked his parents or the Emperor and Empress, or maybe ask him himself. But for now, this was his only sort of answer. He’d have to ask questions later.

There, numerous articles pop up, however, he’s… confused.

There are no pictures?

Viktor’s eyebrows furrow as he scrolls through numerous articles and news clippings, blog posts and sites. However, there were very few information set in. Sure, there were pictures, but they were very blurry and shitty photos of the Imperial Family, usually somewhere far off like on top of a balcony, consisted of the four of them, the Emperor and Empress, with the Crown Prince himself and the Crown Princess.

Viktor scrolls through the Images, and only manages to find one decent one. It was a baby photo or a portrait even. A formal photo of the four of them, sitting stoically. There, Viktor sees the Prince that looked about seven years old, jet black hair styled and brown eyes unmoving.

That photo was taken maybe a decade or so back then.

Viktor sighs impatiently as he runs his fingers through his silver hair. He forgoes looking for pictures, and clicks on one of the articles. It takes time for the page to translate since the language was in Japanese, so Viktor tries to make through the rather shitty translation of the page.

…very little is known about Japan’s Crown Prince, Katsuki Yuuri. The male [that was said to be twenty three years of age] was rarely seen outside the Palace walls, only said to go out for business purposes and government concerned trips. Even so, it is hard to catch a glimpse of this fleeting Prince, with his ability to avoid press and media attention as much as possible. So much so that even his physical attributes and looks are often times rumored about. Numerous people say that the reason on why the Prince has chosen stay hidden is that of a physical deformity or illness. Meanwhile, there are some who protest, saying that the Prince was actually young and very good looking.

When asked on the matters of their son [Katsuki Yuuri] the Imperial Couple [Imperial Highnesses Hiroko & Toshiya Katsuki] has simply stated that it was their son’s decision if he wants to be open to the public, whilst the Crown Prince prioritized the beloved country, he was said to be quite uncomfortable with expressing himself to the public…

(see next page)

Viktor purses his lips as he stares at the screen, eyes unreadable, but his mind in filled with so many questions that he could not answer.

_-_

The next day, Viktor visits the rink again.

He doesn’t know why, but that certain rink already held a special little place in his heart already. Sure, it didn’t look much like topnotch facility but it was small and quaint and it was like Viktor’s own little world, his own little getaway where he could pretend like he’s just an everyday person who could walk around freely and drink and eat and live.

So when he finds out that his schedule was free that afternoon, he asks permission to go to that rink again. Thankfully, his parents allow him to do so as long as he had someone to guard him. Whilst packing up his things, he wished that there wouldn’t be much people like last time.

He also sort of hoped he would run into mystery man again.

Unfortunately (and fortunately) the rink was completely empty, save except for a burly staff member by the counter. Thankfully he didn’t comment on Viktor’s numerous bodyguards, and permitted him to skate.

So there he was, skating around the rink in lazy loops, humming a few songs and moving his feet along to the rhythm. Sometimes he helped along with Yuri’s routines, contributing to the programs and which song suited it. So Viktor knew a few routines and a few step sequences here and there.

He started dancing.

He danced and spun and glided on the ice, humming a few classical pieces and some of Yuri’s routines that he knew. He moved his arms, uncaring and free. He let his eyes fall closed, letting himself lost in his small little world and just let the darkness cloak him. He let himself float free. And for the moment, he wasn’t a Tsarevich, he was just Viktor.

He was just Viktor.

Well, being just Viktor, eventually he started doing stupid shit because why the fuck not? He thinks. Nobody was watching anyways.

He was in the middle of his own rendition of ‘Sugar Pie Honey Bunch’ when a soft giggle distracts him from his own world, and he freezes mid position as he snaps his eyes open.

He isn’t sure what to do when he sees mystery man, hiding his (cute little) grin behind a gloved hand just a few meters from him.

Viktor pouts when the man continues to giggle, albeit he tries to hide it but he fails miserably. Mystery man coughs into his hand, grin still on his face.

“I-I’m sorry…” The man says as he grins, before clearing his throat.

Viktor’s pout never left his face as he crossed his arms over his chest. “How long have you been watching?”

“Long enough to hear ‘Rasputin’.” He chuckles shyly, a light blush on his cheeks, and Viktor couldn’t help but laugh along.

This man’s laugh was adorable.

Fuck.

Mystery man raises an eyebrow. “So what brings you here, oh great Prince of Moscow?”

Viktor pouts. “Hey! My reign is much more farther than Moscow, you know?” Viktor grins when the man laughs at that. He wants to hear that laugh again, he couldn’t help it okay? “I was just… I was bored, so here I am. My schedule’s free anyways, so…”

“Really?” The man asks incredulously, sounding a bit amazed. “I-I mean, considering that you’re Prince…”

Viktor raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re a Prince! You must be so busy and all, with government things, I mean.”

Viktor purses his lips, nodding. “True…” The man turns and takes off his glasses, skating off to a nearby barrier to place them there. “I’m quite surprised you thought that. Most people usually assume that I just live a good life and don’t actually do anything.” Viktor scoffs at the comment, remembering all those accusations.

The man snorts. “Of course not. Most people usually take the monarchy for granted.” The man says, setting his glasses on the barrier, his voice echoing throughout the rink. “They don’t know how much work the royalty has to do to keep them in check.”

Viktor freezes at the comment.

He’s surprised at how casual the man has said it, like it was no big deal, like he didn’t know how much of an impact it had on Viktor.

“How…” Viktor manages to breathe out. “How can you say that? Are you a friend of the royalty or something-“

The man flinches.

“Uh… Yeah, you could say that.” The man says, skating back to the middle of the rink. “Sort of.”

“How?”

The man rubs the back of his neck. “It’s complicated.”

_-_

For the next hour or so, all they did was skate around and chat idly feigning some sort of friendly conversation whilst the man held himself off a little, like he had those little protective holographic domes around him to keep Viktor from attacking.

Viktor was a little happy, for the least. At least the man didn’t run off and mace him. Viktor finds himself genuinely enjoying this man’s company. They talked about things of the norm, like how Japan’s been, how Russia’s been, how’s the food here, yadda yadda. It was almost like an everyday business meeting, except Viktor genuinely liked this business meeting.

They also talked about skating techniques. Viktor had helped him with jumps, helping with the man’s rotations and how to land jumps more often, since the man said he’d often flubbed jumps. Mystery man had also helped him on his step sequences.

“Not saying that your dance skills aren’t good, because they obviously are.” The man smirks, Viktor reminisces the weird chicken dances he did awhile ago and he almost punches himself. “But they could use a little more finesse.”

Viktor smiles. This was new, this was nice. Whenever Viktor had a misstep in his form, the man would always point it out without hesitation. This man didn’t treat him like some sort of royalty (well he technically was) but he made Viktor feel calm and normal, like he wasn’t often times draped with gold and velvet.

He made Viktor feel human.

Viktor wanted to feel human.

So when Viktor has to leave hours later, he is very, very, reluctant.

“I still don’t have your name.” Viktor quips, untying his skates as he sat on the benches on the other side of the barrier. The man chuckles, shoulders shaking softly. Viktor could not resist the smile that crawls itself up his face at the sound it.

“You don’t have to.”

“Ah, but I want to.” Viktor sighs, shrugging off his skates. “Why won’t you tell me?”

The man sighs, taking his glasses off to wipe off the fog that had collected on the lenses. “If I told you my name, you would… probably be very surprised.”

Viktor scoffs playfully. “What would be so intriguing about a simple name?”

The man just knowingly smiles at him, a small teasing curve on his plump, chapped lips.

When he leaves, he still doesn’t have his name.

_-_

Sometimes… Being royalty can be very, very, overwhelming.

From an outsider’s perspective, Viktor may look calm and collected, professional and used to the paparazzi that was currently surrounding and suffocating him despite his horde of bodyguards. But little do they know that Viktor felt like he was in a tight, air compact submarine that was quickly running out of oxygen.

Viktor merely nodded at the reporters that were trying to shove a microphone into his face as he tried to reach his car. His bodyguards were trying their best to feign off the media attention, and surprisingly, they were having a hard time despite their large numbers.

That afternoon, Viktor and his father have decided to go to this famous fashion designer’s studio in Japan to try and suit him up for his engagement party suit and his wedding suit. The designer was supposed to be the one going to the casstle, but due to some unforeseen complications Viktor had to go there himself. Usually he hated going out in public. It wasn’t like he was antisocial, it’s just that… journalists are hungry for information, and Viktor had learned that the hard way.

Viktor was a little hopeful, however. He’d figured since he was going to get measured for his suit he figured that Katsuki Yuuri would be measured with him and he would be able to actually meet his fiancé? He doesn’t know why, but he knew being able to see the mysterious Katsuki Yuuri would give him some sort of satisfaction. And besides, he was going to be married to him, for fuck’s sake!

“Oh, his suit is already tailored and fitted.” Hiroko-sama (she ordered him to call him that instead of the usual ‘Your Highness’, which made Viktor smile) has said once Viktor had asked, and Viktor felt like shoving his face into the concrete floor in frustration.

So now, after approximately three hours of being tangled in measuring tape and fabric, they’re finally finished and Viktor wanted nothing more than just to bury himself into soft Japanese-esque comforters and come back to the rink and possibly meet mystery guy again, but the press obviously want to bother him even more so now here he is trying to not drown in a tidal wave of cameras and men who are desperate to even just get a glimpse of his silver hair.

But this time, it’s different. The press was large, very large. It was almost like a riot. Viktor felt the hot Japanese air seep into his skin, felt his clothes cling to his body, felt the heat wrap itself around his heart and cause it to beat erratically. Sweat poured itself down his face, and Viktor regretted wearing a long sleeved suit that day. He felt the press and their endless questions boom into his ears, shooting straight into his pounding heart. Viktor is not sure, but he probably has tripped a few times during the whole hustle.

It’s not always like this, but sometimes these things do happen. And Viktor hates it.

Once he managed to slide in the car, sweat running down his forehead, his father had asked him if he was alright in a worried tone. Viktor could barely nod as he drank back some water, his heart pounding still.

_-_

Viktor managed to squeeze in a few hours of sleep after that, with him needed for a meeting with the Japanese Tourism advisor. Before said meeting, Viktor had drank back enough caffeine to fuel several sleep deprived college students who need to pass their college thesis in two hours. So you could say that during the whole meeting, Viktor was a little… fidgety.

Once Viktor had finished said meeting, he’d tried to go back to sleep before failing miserably. Caffeine and monster energy drinks have basically melded themselves into his bloodstream and he could barely manage to stay in one place. His mother has realized this, and she has sent him off to go sightseeing or something.

Viktor instead decided to go back to the rink.

“Is that rink the only place you’ll ever go to in this country?” His mother had raised an eyebrow over the paper. Viktor had chuckled and nodded, before promptly leaving for the rink with his body guards in tow.

He’d arrived at the rink and had skated endlessly, energy and sugar giving him a high buzz with every movement. Viktor was willing to burn off the energy, wanting to feel that pleasant ache in his bones after every skating session, but thirty minutes have passed and he was still as hyper as a three year old.

“Wow, you seem… sprightly.”

Viktor grinned at the voice, and he whipped his head around to see mystery man, leaning on the other side of the barrier with an amused smile on his face. Except this time, the man has his hair slicked back with his glasses, defining his soft albeit handsome features even more.

“Kon’nichiwa~” Viktor cooed as he skated over, liking the fact that his language skills were already improving. The man smiled, his brown eyes crinkling in amusement.

“The news said you were out shopping today…” The man says, observing Viktor intently. “Although, it doesn’t look like you’ve had a good time.”

Viktor sighs, running his hands through his silver hair. “God, was it obvious?”

“Hey, I can’t blame you. The press can be... very insistent sometimes.” The man says thoughtfully, lips pursing. “Although, I do expect you to be a bit more tired-“

“I drank five gallons of coffee to get through the day and now I’m suffering-“ Viktor frowns playfully at the cute little giggle that the man lets out. “You’re enjoying my demise, aren’t you?”

The man smiles, the warmness of the grin sending tingles straight to Viktor’s heart. “Oh, believe me, I’m filled with sympathy.” Viktor chuckles at that. “But if you really need to burn off some sugar, then maybe…”

Viktor moves to adjust his skates, tucking the laces in more securely. “Then what?”

The man fidgets, staring at his shoes. “Maybe I can help you?” Viktor freezes at the comment, hand in the midst of adjusting something in his skate. “I-I-I mean! Uh, I could take you sightseeing? Hasetsu’s pretty large and… well, a little walking around could help, wouldn’t it?”

Viktor glances up at him, and the man squeaks under his gaze, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. “F-Forget it! I’m sorry, I know you’re busy and it’s not safe-“

“No, no! It sounds perfect, anyways.” Viktor smiles, walking off the ice and untying his skates. “Hey, do you happen to know any sort of secret exits around here?”

The man raises an eyebrow in question. “What? Why-“

Viktor smiles up at the man, a teasing smirk on his lips as he shucked off his skates. “Because I figure it’s the first time I go out without having babysitters follow me around.”

The man grins, brown eyes sparkling.

_-_

Viktor makes a few adjustments before going out to leave, like shoving a beanie over his head and a medical mask over his face. Surprisingly, the man does the same, only with a medical mask covering his mouth and nose. Viktor chooses not to ask on why.

The man was a little worried on Viktor’s bodyguards, but Viktor assured that his men wouldn’t leave the locker area. They had agreed to return in an hour or two, since Viktor’s bodyguards would probably be suspicious if the Tsarevich was missing for too long.

Viktor had raised an eyebrow when the man seemingly waltzes through employee only areas without a single care in the world. Mystery man notices Viktor questioning him if he’s an unknown criminal or not, and he just smiles sheepishly.

“I come here so often, it’s like I live here. So the staff lets me go and enter wherever I please, whenever I please.” And he busts open an employee only exit to prove his point. Viktor sighs a little as he’s greeted with the soft dim of the evening sky, the cool air of the night. He steps out unto the small parking lot behind the rink, feeling so free and unwarranted he could help but close his eyes and just bask in the feeling.

“Wow.” He hears a voice behind him, and he smiles but still keeps his eyes closed. “How many times have you gone out alone before?”

“Mm, never.” Viktor murmurs, opening his eyes. He turns back and sees the man with his brown eyes softly gazing upon him, as if he’s observing Viktor’s momentary bliss.

Viktor smiles and reaches out to grab his hand, chuckling at the small squeak the man emits. “C’mon, I’m hungry.”

The man barely manages to get out a few words, mouth moving behind the white medical mask he wore. “A-And, who’ll be paying?”

“You, of course!”

_-_

He does, indeed, pay.

Viktor insists that he was only joking, willing to pay (because the mounds of cash in his wallet was more than enough for them to go on a two way trip to the Bahamas) but the man refused, already leading the both of them to a quiet Red Light District near the rink. The place wasn’t really that crowded with only just a few people strolling around, which was perfect.

To be honest, Viktor has never had this much fun in his life. Nothing could ever compete to this, not even that one time when Viktor and Chris crashed JJ’s bachelor party by pure accident (it was not an accident). Viktor couldn’t risk buying something, since trying to smuggle home a cute dog onsie would be very hard, but he took solace to window shopping. Beside him, the man kept guiding him through the streets, giving little amusing comments here and there.

Finally they reach a small Ramen Place, and Viktor drools at the smells the small little restaurant emits. Viktor flips through the menu and finds Katsudon on the list, which he excitedly orders.

“Oh, I’ll have what he’s having.” He says to the waiter in Japanese, with Viktor only understanding a few words here and there. “Katsudon’s my favorite dish.” He adds.

Viktor raises an eyebrow. “Really? That’s… Quite the coincidence.” Viktor says, handing back the menu. “My future husband-to-be apparently likes Katsudon too.”

The man unnoticeably fidgets a little, eyes suddenly set downcast. “Yes… Quite the coincidence.”

They fall into some sort of easy silence, the man suddenly gone silent as he stares at anything but Viktor. Viktor’s eyes trace the whole interior of the restaurant, seeing the little banners and flags and hearing the normal everyday Japanese chatter of customers. This was a strange sort of bliss that Viktor knew he was never going to experience again, so why not make the most of it?

“Viktor?”

Viktor’s attention snaps back to the man across from him, and he smiles softly. “Yes?”

“Are you okay with being married?”

Viktor ponders on this question, with it being the first time anyone has actually questioned him on his opinions. “It’s not like I have a choice, do I?” He sighs, leaning back against his chair. “It’s not like I have anything against Japan, but my parents never really asked me if I was alright with it? I’m just hoping that my fiancé would be nice, even though I’ve never even met him yet.”

The man across from him just lets out a small little uneasy chuckle. “Yeah… The Imperial Prince must be... uh, very busy?”

Viktor just chuckles, but he nearly lets out a shriek of delight when piping hot bowls of Katsudon is placed in front of them. He bites in, a little disappointed that the ones from the Palace taste differently but the food was good otherwise.

“I heard that the Empress sometimes cooks herself.” The man mutters thoughtfully, his chopsticks rummaging through his bowl. Viktor is a little surprised.

The man just nods, a small, peaceful little smile on his face. “Yeah. Apparently she sometimes helps around the Palace, cooking along with the chefs and chatting with the maids. The Emperor sometimes does so too, apparently being royalty can be boring.” He keeps his eyes on his bowl. “The Emperor and Empress are amazing people; they don’t let their power get through their heads. They’re the reason why Japan has strived…”

Viktor purses his lips, thinking rather thoughtfully.

The man just sighs.

“Hopefully the Prince can bear the weight of a nation on his shoulders too.”

_-_

It may seem corny or cheesy, but Viktor did not want the night to end.

They would’ve strolled the streets until it was two in the morning if only Viktor didn’t set a small alarm in his watch. Viktor had dreaded hearing the small beep from his wrist, and the man just smiled sympathetically as they started their way towards the rink. On the way there, they had chatted nonstop. Mostly Viktor did the talking, he told him stories and his old tales of mischief, nothing too private since he knew his boundaries a Prince. The man had told him a few things too, that he was born and grew up in this specific town, how he gained weight easily, how ballet brought him to skating and other mundane things that didn’t spill too much information. Viktor could feel the imaginary barrier that this man had surrounding him.

For some reason, Viktor wanted to break down those barriers.

“Thank you, uh, for the night.” Viktor finds blushing out once they were back in the rink, packing up to go home. The man smiles a soft little smile that was filled with all the sweetness in the world. Viktor has never felt this, never felt the happy buzz in his veins throughout the night even when they were just walking down the streets of Hasetsu.

“You’re welcome.” The man says, and Viktor is suddenly hit with some sort of determination.

“When do you plan on telling me your name?” Viktor asks teasingly. “It would be better if I used your real name other than ‘the man’.”

He laughs, shoulders shaking softly as beautiful chimes of laughter escapes from his mouth. Viktor’s breath is taken away.

“Maybe one day.”

_-_

“You’re an idiot.” Yuri Plisetsky, fifteen and angry, deadpans from the other side of the screen. “A complete, total idiot. I knew you were an airhead before all of this but this is just plain stupid. You’re stupid, god, Vitya.”

Viktor just smiles and shakes his head; he knew Yura never meant all of those nasty words. “You can’t blame me.”

“Can’t blame you? Oh please, you’re about to get married, Viktor. Booty calls and side hoes aren’t appropriate for the situation!” Yuri huffs, leaning back against his couch. On the other line, Viktor grins a little as he hears Lillia and Yakov’s shrieks of anger due to Yuri’s ‘inappropriate use of modern day slang’, accompanied by Maccachin’s bark. “Great, look what you got me into.”

“Say hi to the pair for me, will you?” He says, eyes twinkling. “And no, he’s not a ‘booty call’-“

“You tell that to my face, and I’ll believe you.”

“He’s really not!” Viktor says. “I figure he’ll be a nice friend to keep around once I start to stay around in Japan for longer periods of time-”

“Words cannot describe how many ways that could go wrong.“ Yuri rubs his forehead in frustration. “He could be a psychopath! Or an enemy! Plus, the media could write him as a mistress of yours and the Imperial Family will kill you! Vitya, you know the press, you know the media, and you know what they could do! They could ruin your life, your name! Don’t let some lowly Japanese nobody ruin what you’ve worked for-“

“He’s not lowly.” Viktor snaps, voice cold but not hard. “He’s an amazing person that I would probably never forget, even when I get married. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be forgetting my responsibilities as a Prince, Yura. Yeah, I’m an airhead, but I’ll always put Russia first okay? And it’s not like I’m not gonna try to get along with my husband-“

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Yuri rolls his eyes, huffing. “I admire your ‘speech’ and all, but I gotta stop you before you continue talking for five hours nonstop.” Yuri says. “I’ll be there for your engagement party, and I don’t want to see you running away with the love of your life like some Romeo and Juliet shit love story-“

Viktor just chuckles as he says goodbye and ends the call.

“I can’t promise you anything.”

_-_

The engagement party was set tomorrow night, and yet Viktor has never seen a glimpse of his fiancé.

When he’d gently pointed this out to Hiroko-soma, she just smiled apologetically, like it was her fault that her son just happened to magically disappear whenever Viktor stepped foot in the same room.

“I’m sorry, Vicchan.” Viktor’s heart warms a little at the nickname. “My Yuuri is very busy right now, since he’s arranging a couple of important things all throughout Japan. Don’t worry! If he misses the engagement party tomorrow, I will smack him into the next eclipse and back!”

Now, as he sat on one of the benches by the rink, he smiles a little as he ties on his skates. This may be the last time he would be able to skate as a single man. He would inevitably meet his husband-to-be who was really starting to frustrate Viktor since why the fuck haven’t we even met yet-

Viktor hears the familiar thump thump of skate guards against the padded floor, and he smiles when he sees the brown eyed beauty walking through the glass doors that separated the locker room and the rink, glasses in one hand. Viktor flashes him a giant smile, and the man smiles back, albeit strained.

“Hi.” The man says sheepishly, eyes downcast as he shuffled over to the bench.

Viktor smiles, noticing the stiff atmosphere. “Hi.”

The man sits himself on the bench, a few meters away from Viktor. Viktor watches warily, watching the stiff way the man placed his glasses on the bench, watching the rushed way the man removed his skate guards, watching the way his lips were set in a tight line.

“Are you alright?” He asks, just trying to be nice.

“Yeah, I-I… I’m alright.” The man sighs, a little frustrated when one skate guard was being too stiff. “Just… Nervous.”

“For what?”

“Lots of things.” The man finally removes both guards, setting them down on the bench, but he does not move from his position. “Viktor?”

“Hm?”

“How do you know that you’re good enough for someone?”

Viktor freezes a little at the question, surprised at the random statement that did… things to Viktor, he was not sure, but Viktor felt his stomach flip. And at that moment, Viktor knew he’d been asking that question his whole life.

Was he good enough? In what, exactly? There were lots of factors to be honest. It could branch out to just about anywhere. Was he good a good enough leader? Was he a good enough Tsarevich? Was he a good enough son? Was he a good enough person? The questions that began with ‘what’ mingled with questions that began with ‘will’. Will he be good enough? Will he will he will he will he-

“What makes you say that?” Viktor tries to let out a carefree grin, but he flinches when the grin comes out strained. The man just shrugs, eyes unfocused and trained on the ice cold rink in front of them.

“I don’t know. I just… worry.”

“Worry that you won’t be good enough?” Viktor asks. “For who, exactly? Is it for a lover, huh?” He asks teasingly, grinning the same stiff grin he wore. The man blushes a deep, deep red.

“N-No! It’s so much more than that, but…” The man trails off, eyes unfocused again. “You just worry. You don’t know if people will like you or even acknowledge what you’ve done for them, you know? You can’t help but feel so…”

“Helpless?”

“Exactly.” The man nods, looking at Viktor questionably for a split second. “Exactly…”

Viktor sighs. “Well, to answer that question…”

“You don’t.”

The man looks up at Viktor, beautiful brown eyes wide and questioning and confused.

Viktor just smiles. “You don’t, okay? What matters is that if you think you’re good enough for yourself. How would you think you’d be worthy for someone when you don’t even think you’re worthy of yourself?” Viktor smiles a little, remembering the small pieces of wisdom Yakov had littered throughout his life, thankful for the old man.

He catches sight of the blue rimmed glasses that sat in between them, and he takes them in his hands. “Because honestly, if you don’t think you’re the most beautiful…” He wipes at the lenses a little. “… most amazing…” His heart beats a tad bit faster, and before he knew it, he’s brushing back the short black bangs away from his face. “… most wonderful person in the planet, then no one is worthy of you.” He pushes the glasses on the man’s face, not able to resist the grin that broke throughout his face when the man scrunches his nose up too adorably for Viktor to manage.

“Not until you love yourself.” He finishes off, tucking black strands of hair behind the man’s ear. Viktor smiles when he sees the pink dusting the man’s cheeks, seeing the way his brown eyes shone with so much wonder behind his glasses, loving the way his heart beat against his chest. He’s never felt this before, this raw unbridling emotion that made Viktor feel alive.

He wants to feel alive.

Unfortunately, they were so into the moment they hadn’t heard the commotion behind the glass sliding doors. Viktor barely managed to register the frantic pleas of ‘is Prince Viktor in there?’ and ‘please, just let us interview him!’ ‘it’ll only be a minute’.

Before they know it, the glass doors were almost knocked down when the horde of reporters and journalists as they tried their best to fight against Viktor’s futile army of bodyguards. Viktor gasps when the flashes and the lenses and the questions were immediately thrown at his direction.

He feels his chest contract once more, feeling the tightness of the atmosphere find its way into his ribcage and squeeze it dry. His guards are trying their best to get to him and pull him out of the ruckus.

He looks to his side, and sees that there was no one there, except for a pair of blue rimmed glasses abandoned in haste to get away. He sees an employee only room nearby swing shut.

He takes them before a greedy reporter crushes the lenses, and with a heavy heart, his guards barrel him out of the rink and into the car.

As he drives away, he looks back at the rink one last time, knowing that he would never be able to return there again.

_-_

Viktor has never felt guiltier in his life.

He carried that guilt all throughout the day. Even when he ate breakfast, when they drove to the palace, when they stuffed him in his engagement suit, that gnawing at his stomach stayed there until the actual party.

The guilt was consisted of a different brew of emotions; Viktor could recognize said brew as some sort of fucked up coffee. He was guilty for that rink staff because of the reporters that caused a mess the previous day, he was guilty for being caught, he was guilty for stealing the man’s glasses…

He was guilty for his fiancé, because Viktor fell in love with someone else.

There, he has said it.

Viktor had the blue rimmed glasses tucked in his suit pocket for the whole day, not knowing why but the lenses comforted him for some reason, although, the comforting part didn’t seem to have an effect on his physical aspect. He looked pale, he looked wary, he looked tired. He was hoping that his suit, a bright violet with elegant gold designs, would distract the audience from his deathly face.

The engagement party had begun and was held at the palace. Numerous elite guests, Japanese and Russian alike, were invited wearing extravagant clothing. The music played, the alcohol was passed around, and Viktor’s guilt progressed as the night came along.

He was a little… excited, you could say. Because finally, finally, he’d be able to see his fiancé for once. Finally, after one week of wondering and fear and-

“Oh, no. The driver said that there’ll be traffic, so he’s going to be late.” Hiroko said, and Viktor nearly bashes his head against the nearest wall.

Viktor scowls as he steals a flute of champagne from a waiter, sipping on the drink and hoping that the fizzy drink would admonish his anticipation. He looks for someone, anyone, who could distract him from his thoughts. But no, his parents were happily chatting with a few officials, Yura and the gang would be fashionably late and his wonderful oh so mysterious fiancé would maybe want to fuck around with him more by not even attending the goddamn engagement party-

Viktor exits the main hall and goes for a nearby balcony, breathing in the cold night breeze. It almost reminds him of a certain scene in a rink parking lot; wherein he spread his arms and let himself lose to the momentary bliss as a man with brown eyes watched him with some sort of wonder.

He closes his eyes and pretends he’s back in Hasetsu’s Red Light District, wandering around going window shopping, except he’s not followed by an army of guards. It doesn’t mean he’s alone either, because someone is with him, someone who took him by the hand and let him through different restaurants, telling him how much he loves his dog and food and life.

Viktor lets out a sad little sigh, knowing that this would eventually happen. He can’t have everything. He has the luxuries and the riches and the privileges, but he can’t have home. He can’t have security. He can’t have true happiness with someone, and he had to accept that. He’d have to find a way to discreetly return this man’s glasses back, and maybe even say goodbye.

But Viktor lets himself dream for a bit. Maybe in another life, they could have a chance. Maybe Viktor was a barista at a coffee shop and he falls for a cute brown eyed regular. Maybe Viktor was a college student who helps a Japanese freshman through his classes. Maybe Viktor was a figure skating legend who falls in love with a brown eyed boy with so much potential. It was these little mundane things that Viktor knew he couldn’t have, but the things he wanted the most in the world.

He was shaken out of his reverie when he hears one of his father’s officials call him from the balcony entrance, bowing deeply. “Your Majesty, the Imperial Prince has arrived.”

Viktor nods, no longer feeling the excitement of seeing the person he was meant to spend his whole life with. He heads back into the hall, seeing that people are anxiously waiting for the large double doors, double doors that served as an entrance and exit for the main hall, to open.

And they do.

“And now, beloved Imperial Prince of Japan, Prince Katsuki Yuuri.”

And that’s were Viktor realized how fate was a twisted, cruel creature who loved playing with people and their emotions.

But if he had the chance, he would kiss fate and thank she/him/it repeatedly, because he got played in the best of ways.

Viktor doesn’t know what to expect, but the sight of the man makes his feet go on autopilot. From the top of winding stairs that led to the balcony he was previously on to the very bottom in a matter of seconds. And he did so without taking his bewildered gaze off the man, which was pretty damn impressive.

The Japanese man looks around, face shy but strong as his brown eyes flittered around through the room, seeing if the people were scrutinizing him despite the warm applause shortly after his name was announced. His silky black hair, slicked and wispy and framed his face beautifully, looked like midnight in Viktor’s eyes.

Finally, Viktor’s jaw drops as he sees the man’s suit. Blue and silver, yes, but very much like his. Meant to match his.

When they meet gazes, Viktor knew. From the knowing, shy smile the man gives, Viktor fucking knew-

Viktor didn’t even realize that he was now a few feet away from the man, blue eyes still wide and jaw dragging on the floor. The whole hall was drenched in silence, except for the faint music in the background and some whispers shared by some guests.

Viktor blinks.

The man chuckles a nervous chuckle behind a gloved hand.

“Surprise?”

Viktor blinks, multiple error messages flashing in his mind.

“What.”

The man sighs, forlorn.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t tell you.” The man says, looking up at him. “I… I didn’t want you to like me because you were obliged to do so and… and who am I kidding? I mean… It’s just me, even if I were Prince, who would be interested in me?” The man fiddles with his fingers, gaze flitting across the room.

Viktor’s jaw does not get up from the floor.

His voice comes out as rushed and a little hesitant, blush on his cheeks evident. “But even then… I feel so… so at home with you, you know? Like it’s just us and no royalty, no obligations and… When you told me about being worthy-“

The man trails when Viktor steps up, now only a foot of space between them. The man chokes on his own words for a moment, feeling the inevitable screaming and public humiliation ensue.

Until Viktor takes out the glasses from his pocket, and slides them unto his nose.

The guests start cheering then, and Viktor couldn’t resist the lovesick smile that erupts on his face as he wraps his arms around the blushing brown eyed boy.

The guests riot.

“You don’t even know-“ Viktor whispers into the soft locks, voice laced with so much adoration and relief when he hugs back. “You don’t even know how amazing this is-“

“You stole my glasses.” The man pulls back enough to stare up at Viktor with a cute little smile on his face, arms still wrapped around each other as Viktor chuckles.

“I can’t have them destroyed, can I?” Viktor grins, pushing the frames up his nose. “You know the press.”

“The press, yes.” The man chuckles. “I wonder what sort of feature article they’re writing now.” That was a nod to the photographers why the side who were furiously snapping photos and crying tears of joy. Viktor sees their parents off to the side, his parents raising their eyebrow questionably and Hiroko-soma smirking triumphantly.

Viktor grins, hugging the man once more, never letting go if he had the chance.

“It’s you.” He whispers into his midnight locks.

He could feel the man’s soft smile against his chest. “It’s me.”

Viktor holds him there, letting his fantasies come to life. He felt all the worries, all the dread and fear from earlier on leave his being. He was wrong, he did have everything. He had this amazing, beautiful man in his arms that knew him, understood him. They did have a chance, and Viktor had never felt happier in his whole entire life.

“Can I finally have your name?” Viktor pulls away, but intertwining his fingers through the others.

He laughs, peals of beautiful bubbly laughter escaping the man’s mouth. Viktor’s breath is taken away.

“Yuuri. My name’s Yuuri.”

But now, my love, please hear me out

For what I say is not a lie

Now I’m happy to be the King of my kingdom

Because I’ll have you by my side