It was an expanse of ice. The air was chilly but not overbearing. Something he was used to. He was gliding across the ice with well practiced movements.
Distantly there were voices. Mocking tones, punctuated by a muffled cough.
"Yuuri will retire if you don't win."
He stumbles, almost falling. He starts up again, but the voice puncuates again.
"I don't really care if you win, just make sure he doesn't quit."
Another misstep.
"Lets be real, no one really cares about you or your goals."
The cough was getting louder and he was missing more steps before he finally lands too hard and pain shoots up his leg. He falls heavily. The ice felt so cold.
"We told you that would happen.. well if you can't skate.."
An old man was in view now, coughing into his hand harder. He looked exhausted and sick, blood at the corners of his mouth.
"You know I can't work any more. You know that I'm sick and you still failed.. what good are you, boy?"
"No, no I can keep going!" He tries to get up, but hands reached up, grabbing him around the wrists and legs to hold him down.
"Your parents would be ashamed of you.. letting him die.. the man who cared for you."
Was that Victor's voice..? He looks up, hair in his face as he fights the hands holding him. He could see his parents's faces beneath the ice. they looked so ashamed..
"It doesn't matter how many times you get up.. You're never going to be good enough."
The old man had collapsed, still coughing, sounding like he was getting weaker and he struggles against the hands harder. They were leaving bruises, nails tearing at his skin.
A black boot presses down against the old man's back, pressing. Dark hair was pushed back off of a distinctly Japanese face and the man was sneering at him.
"Aren't I proof that you're nothing?"
The ice cracks and he's suddenly under it, water closing over his head. The Japanese man was standing over him, staring down with that sneer.
"It'll be your fault when he dies. You know that.. We already know... you're nothing."
Everything closes to a pinpoint of light before even it blinks out and he wakes up.
[Dream Bomb]
Distantly there were voices. Mocking tones, punctuated by a muffled cough.
"Yuuri will retire if you don't win."
He stumbles, almost falling. He starts up again, but the voice puncuates again.
"I don't really care if you win, just make sure he doesn't quit."
Another misstep.
"Lets be real, no one really cares about you or your goals."
The cough was getting louder and he was missing more steps before he finally lands too hard and pain shoots up his leg. He falls heavily. The ice felt so cold.
"We told you that would happen.. well if you can't skate.."
An old man was in view now, coughing into his hand harder. He looked exhausted and sick, blood at the corners of his mouth.
"You know I can't work any more. You know that I'm sick and you still failed.. what good are you, boy?"
"No, no I can keep going!" He tries to get up, but hands reached up, grabbing him around the wrists and legs to hold him down.
"Your parents would be ashamed of you.. letting him die.. the man who cared for you."
Was that Victor's voice..? He looks up, hair in his face as he fights the hands holding him. He could see his parents's faces beneath the ice. they looked so ashamed..
"It doesn't matter how many times you get up.. You're never going to be good enough."
The old man had collapsed, still coughing, sounding like he was getting weaker and he struggles against the hands harder. They were leaving bruises, nails tearing at his skin.
A black boot presses down against the old man's back, pressing. Dark hair was pushed back off of a distinctly Japanese face and the man was sneering at him.
"Aren't I proof that you're nothing?"
The ice cracks and he's suddenly under it, water closing over his head. The Japanese man was standing over him, staring down with that sneer.
"It'll be your fault when he dies. You know that.. We already know... you're nothing."
Everything closes to a pinpoint of light before even it blinks out and he wakes up.