An Unwavering Love (A Yuri Plisetsky Fanfiction)

Prologue: Breakeven

"I'm sorry sir, but Flight SQ 26 already departed twelve minutes ago."

Yuri was quiet as he stood amidst the crowded airport. The words of the ground attendant rang in his ears repeatedly. People moved past him, rushing to make it to their own flights. All of them had people to see and places to be. They paid no attention to the blond boy whose life was falling apart right there at the terminal.

"Yeah..." he said with a broken voice, and he turned to walk around lifelessly at the departures hall. He brought his phone out with trembling fingers, desperately trying to reach the person that left on the flight. No answer, just like a while ago. Out of the large glass window, he could see the lights of a jet fade away as it lifted off. The sight of it just made him feel a lot worse.

The call function closed after his fifth pointless attempt. His home screen appeared, and he focused on the wallpaper. It was a photo of THEM. On the last Grand Prix Final. It was the picture they took in front of the backdrop wall, his arms around her waist as they held out their gold medals. It was the same one he posted on Instagram the day they were named champions.

Tears quickly flooded his eyes.

"NO! NO! NO! DAMMIT!!!"

His body collapsed on the floor in agony as he threw the phone down. The screen shattered, and so did his heart.

A broken, defeated weeping emanated from the Ice Tiger of Russia. There was nothing more he could do. She was gone. Completely and utterly gone.

Not that he should even be surprised. It was her tragic flaw: running away.

... and it was not like it was the first time she did. She already left before—twice, even. Back then, he blamed a lot people in anger. He blamed Miwako, for dying on her the first place. He blamed Kamoshita, for always heeding her requests no matter how stupid they can be. He blamed her, for not trusting him enough. But now, he couldn't think of anyone else to blame but himself.

He wallowed in despair, knowing that what they had together was truly over. Ayumi Matsumoto was not coming back—that he knew for certain.

Ignoring the stares of airline passengers making their way to the counters, Yuri looked back at the months that led to where he was now. Never in the span of those months did he expect to lose the girl he loved the most. Their relationship has brought him nothing but happiness, and the months they spent together were some of the best in his life.

But he knew things got lost along the way. Words were left unsaid, sentiments were left unshared, and problems were left unsolved. If he had not let his pride and arrogance get in the way, he could have stopped this from happening.

He could have told her he loved her before it was too late.

"Ayu... come back..."

Yuri felt like an fool, begging to empty air as if she was there. She's gone, you fucking idiot. She can't hear you anymore. You fucking ruined everything. You ruined the best thing that's ever happened in your life. You deserve a gold medal. It'll probably be the only gold medal that'll haunt you forever.

"Shit... Please, I'm sorry..."

He never felt that emotional in his life. Usually when problems happen, whether with his grandfather, his skating career or his interactions with other people, he can quickly shove it off with his bravado. Throw in a couple of insults (usually to Viktor and the Katsudon) and a scowl, and everything seemed to work out. But in that moment, he couldn't. If that was going to be the only time he was ever going to be upfront about his feelings, he might as well scream at an airport where no one really knew who he was.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

His legs were thrashing around in frustration as he cried even louder.

Of course, he was wrong. People knew who he was. Yuri Plisetsky, the 16-year-old Ice Skating Prodigy from Russia. The boy who dominated the world stage. The boy who was poised to win gold at the Olympics. The boy who had the world on the palm of his hands.

But he was also the boy who just lost his girlfriend because of his own stupidity.

Two male figures approached him with much hesitation. They knew how fragile he was at that moment. "Yurio..."

He did not want to listen. Who were they to comfort him? As far as he knew, they were the most annoying people he has ever met...

... and most of all, they weren't HER.

Arms wrapped around him in an attempt to soothe. He continued to cry as Viktor and Yuuri comforted him. They were friends, for the lack of a better word. No matter how tense things may be between them at times, they were always going to have each other's backs. Especially now.

"She's gone, Viktor. Ayu's gone..."

"I know."

"I did this. I fucking did this."

"Hush, Yurio... You know she wouldn't want to hear you say that."

There was nothing they could do to console Yuri as the weight of reality continued to pin him down. They stayed there, huddled around each other, not saying a word.

How is this even happening...