Intellectually, Yuri can believe him. It's meant to comfort, but it doesn't sound like a lie. Even Yakov and Lilia hadn't taken him to task as much as he'd thought they would...but paradoxically, that only makes it worse.

'It still shouldn't have happened.' The fire is no less vicious when he turns it on himself than it is when he directs it at someone else. Colder and quieter, perhaps, but no less harsh. 'I wasn't focused. If I hadn't made it up in the second half, I'd be a lot farther behind you than I am now.'

Especially compared with how Katsudon's routine had looked right before his own. He knows, in a way he hadn't before today, that he never could have skated Eros properly, no matter how much he'd wanted to back in Hasetsu. He needs Agape more than ever now.

(He's not even going to get into the whole thing with the cat ears. Or Katsudon and Viktor cheering for him like a pair of idiots, with smiles that made him want to sail across the ice and choke them both.)

His teacup is nearly empty, but he isn't interested in refilling it just yet. The tension's in his stomach now. 'And it had to be in Moscow, of all places.'