Surprise, I wrote a Yuri!!! on Ice story. I was thinking if there were ice skating anime before YoI and remembered Ginban Kaleidoscope, which led me to thinking about Hikaru no Go, and then I wanted to write an AU with that premise. I don't expect I will write much for this fandom. The fandom is too fast paced for me. XD

Title: If I Could See You - Part 1
Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice
Words: 1,760
Summary: When Yuuri impulsively buys a ring as a good luck charm, he never expects to be haunted by the ghost of his late idol, one Viktor Nikiforov. Yuuri isn't a great ice skater, but he knows Viktor is, and the world deserves to see his skating. Ghost Viktor AU.
Notes: Inspired by Ginban Kaleidoscope and Hikaru no Go. AU. Lots of hand-waving with explanations. Thanks to kiyutsuna for helping me pick the title. Now with illustration by Kiyu!

Part 1

During the intermission, Yuuri checks his phone. There is a missed call from his mom. He is reluctant to call her back, but he finds himself mentally calculating the time difference anyway. It's mid morning for her back in Japan and more convenient for her if he calls now rather than later, so he excuses himself, miming a phone sign to Phichit with his thumb and pinky jutting out. His friend smiles at him and waves him on.

The hallways are packed with people buying snacks and soft drinks. Yuuri skirts his way around them and keeps walking until he finds a secluded bathroom away from the crowds. He closes the stall door behind him. The phone rings three times before his mom's voice comes through.

"Hello?" he says in reply. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

His mom chuckles. "Not at all, Yuuri! You know business is slow at this time of the day. How are you, Yuuri?"

"Good," he forces out. It's the truth. His studies are coming along; he can't have wished for a better roommate; his coach is even urging him to participate in the upcoming qualifiers. Yet there's just something unsatisfying about it all. Not for the first time, he wonders if it isn't better to leave Detroit. He opens his mouth and closes it, unsure if he wishes to tell his mom about possibly returning home. She's always been supportive of his pursuit of figure skating and even helped him plan his move to Detroit. Though she saw him off with tears at the airport, there was also pride mingled among the tears. He can't bring himself to say anything about his listlessness. Instead, he says, "You called me earlier?"

"Yes," she says. "It's about Vicchan."

For a heart-stopping moment, long silver hair flashes through his mind, the beauty of the world of ice at pieces by his feet, and Yuuri thinks, No, not Vicchan too.

His mom is still babbling over the phone, but Yuuri can only recall the despair that overtook him that day after practice nearly a year ago when Phichit gasped and hurriedly showed him the devastating news that was trending all over social media. To Yuuri, Viktor had been larger than life. Viktor and ice skating had been one and the same, Yuuri's goal and passion. He has dreamed of sharing the stage with Viktor, of showing him how much he has inspired him. He has never imagined a world of ice skating without Viktor in it.

"Yuuri? Yuuri, don't worry too much—" his mom continues to speak through the haze, "—Vicchan is okay. The vet said it was just overeating, but I wanted to let you know."

Yuuri breathes again—when did he stop?—and thinks he mumbles some sort of response. It must be somewhat intelligible because his mom doesn't ask him to repeat himself. She gives him everyone's regards and tells him to eat lots and dress up warmly. When the call ends, Yuuri stares at the darkened screen and exhales slowly.

The intermission is almost over by the time Yuuri makes it back his seat. Phichit flashes him a smile and gestures to the side. There's a bottle of water there for him that Phichit must have bought from the expensive vending machines in the hallways. Although he feels bad for the expense, it's just what he needs; his throat is parched, the phone call taking more out of him than he thought it would. He uncaps the water bottle, thankful for the coolness as he gulps the water down.

The lights dim once more, and Yuuri momentarily forgets the disquieting unrest that threatens to drown him. He twists the cap back onto the water bottle and leans back in his seat, letting the music of the show pull him in. Next to him, Phichit grins as the performers skate out in their fancy costumes, dancing to the notes in the air. Phichit's enthusiasm is catching; he can tell that Phichit enjoys every moment of the show, and for that, even Yuuri feels some of his passion, despite his own waning interest in the world of ice.

After the show ends, Phichit dreamily says, "One day, I'm going to choreograph a show like that."

When Phichit says it, it's easy to believe that he can make it happen. He always makes ice skating look so fun. Yuuri can imagine Phichit grinning on the ice, inviting his audience to share in his sheer joy.

"You can do it," Yuuri says in encouragement.

"One day!" Phichit says. "But first, I'm going to make a name for myself and make ice skating popular back in Thailand!"

Yuuri smiles wistfully. It's a beautiful dream. He wishes for a dream he too could chase, but that path no longer exists. What's left is a yawning chasm dug by self-doubt and apathy. He doesn't know how to fill it in.

The streetlights flicker on as they exit the arena to head to their bus stop. Along the sides of the streets, vendors are selling their wares despite the chilly night settling in. Phichit heads over curiously, eyes lighting up when he sees that they are selling merchandise for the show. He strikes up an easy conversation with one of the vendors, who happily chatters away with Phichit over the show, and Phichit agonizes over which keychain to buy. He likes several of them and can't decide between the hamster or the guinea pig.

While Phichit is occupied, Yuuri wanders over to the neighboring stall, a glint under the yellow streetlights catching his eye. It is no wonder the stall glitters when beautiful bracelets, necklaces, and rings line the table. They're dazzling, but Yuuri browses the jewelry halfheartedly while he waits for Phichit to make his purchase.

"Let me know if anything catches your fancy!" the jewelry vendor says. Yuuri is about to give an awkward smile and apologize that he's only waiting for his friend when something does catch his attention. His hand ghosts over a golden ring before he realizes it, recalling how he has seen Viktor wear a ring on a necklace before. It was usually hidden and inconspicuous; it was not often that Viktor was caught on camera kissing the ring, but those moments are Yuuri's favorites.

This particular ring is likely nothing like the ring Viktor wore, but Yuuri finds himself paying for it, and he also buys a golden chain, which even surprises himself, because it means that he's planning to wear the ring the same way Viktor did. The jewelry vendor gives him a knowing smile that Yuuri doesn't quite know how to decipher. Yuuri tells himself that he's buying a good luck charm, a pick me up. He definitely needs something like that right now, some of the magic he used to feel. He wishes his eyes can sparkle like Phichit's do when he rambles about his dreams of popularizing ice skating, wishes that he could return to the days of being captivated by Viktor's beauty and elegance on the ice, when ice skating used to be fun.

When they return to their apartment, a small, two bedroom place with a shared living space that could function as a living room or dining room as need be, separated from the kitchen by a small counter, Yuuri mumbles goodnight to Phichit and doesn't plan to stay up for too long. Practice will start bright and early tomorrow, and he thinks he might go jogging along the banks by the Ambassador Bridge to clear his mind. It's better than wallowing in his depressing thoughts. If he lets them fester, Phichit will notice sooner or later, and he doesn't want to dampen his friend's spirits.

Yuuri sighs and swivels in his chair. He checks up on his emails and randomly clicks around various sites before he gives up and leans back to stare at the ceiling. His walls are much emptier than they were a year ago when he had posters and photographs of Viktor everywhere. Now, he only has a single poster of Viktor up in memory of his idol, not wishing to depress himself further.

Sighing again, he sits back up and grabs the paper bag with the ring from his table and pulls the ring out. He holds the ring up and slips the golden chain through it. He fastens it around his neck. Chuckling humorlessly, he lifts the ring and gives it a kiss before he drops it against his chest, feeling like a fool.

A sudden groan from behind him startles him out of his wits. Yuuri jumps, his chair clattering loudly. He turns abruptly, heart pounding, hand flying to grip the ring like a lifeline, unsure what to expect.

His mouth falls open.

Viktor Nikiforov is lying on top of his bed covers.

Naked.

Completely naked.

Except for a golden chain around his neck.

Another groan sounds, and Viktor's eyes flutter open. Yuuri grips the ring even tighter, afraid to make a single noise. He has no clue what is going on. He must be dreaming. Yes. Yes, that's it. He is definitely dreaming.



Long legs swing over the edge of the bed as the man of Yuuri's dreams sits up. He blinks and shakes his head, as if trying to shake himself awake. His long hair pools against his back and chest, but despite the length, it still doesn't provide any decent cover, leaving very little to the imagination. Yuuri is too paralyzed to scream. He thinks to himself inanely that Viktor's hair hasn't been this long since the Junior World Championships, but he certainly looks older than that, and is that really what he should be wondering about right now?

Viktor raises his hand and looks at it, flipping it back and forth. Then, he slowly looks around the room. Yuuri momentarily considers if becoming a statue will mean that Viktor won't notice him. But notice him he does. Viktor tilts his head—it isn't fair how beautiful he is—and Yuuri trembles. Viktor blinks and opens his mouth in wonder.

His words are in Russian. Yuuri furrows his brows, only to see Viktor's eyes light up. He switches to English, and Yuuri finally knows why Viktor sounds so amazed by a nobody like him.

"You can see me?" he asks in awe.

After what feels like an eternity, Yuuri manages a nod, not trusting his voice, and Viktor responds with a smile so breathtaking that Yuuri finds himself falling all over again.

It's only then that a scream belatedly tears out of his throat—oh, it's working now—and Phichit slams open the door.

---

to be continued


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