Not to be understood, but to become: The selfish core of fatal attraction
Disclaimer: bringing Chris into this dynamic, and my specific interpretation of his character, is purely my personal taste. I just find his relationship with Victor to be a fascinating point of contrast. Also, I’m using MBTI (Chris as ESFP, Victor as ESTP, Yuuri as ISFP) strictly as a fun tool to structure my fandom thoughts, not as absolute canon.
If we strip away the romanticized filter of mainstream narratives, which often tell us that true love means finding someone who 100% understands and respects you... Well Chris is, in many ways, or in my headcanon quite a good friend. As Se-doms, Victor and Chris vibe effortlessly on a physical level. But Chris has auxiliary Fi; he’s incredibly independent, self-governing, and finds his own joy in skating. He gets Victor's boundaries, sees right through him, and respects his space. It's a healthy, balanced dynamic.
But for Victor, this perfection is ultimately unfulfilling. Victor is Ti-aux with blind Fi. When his inspiration dries up, he falls into an existential crisis and needs to feel needed (that tertiary Fe). But Chris’s healthy Fi means he won't lose himself in Victor's mess. This brings up something very subtle: sometimes, being completely understood and seen right through by someone is actually deeply unsettling. Victor knows Chris understands him, but that level of transparent clarity, combined with a polite boundary, leaves no room for mystery or reinvention. Staying in that safe, transparent relationship just means Victor has to keep playing the tired "Living Legend" role. (And of course it's also due to their lack of communication but they're just not the type to talk things out i think, and Victor is so bad at expressing or even recognising his own feelings
So, he dives into the chaotic, unknown black hole that is Yuuri.
Yuuri shares the exact same functions as Chris, just in a different order (Fi-Se). That tiny shift changes everything. Yuuri doesn't "get" the real Victor at all at first. Their early dynamic is full of misunderstandings, intense idolization, and a slightly unhealthy dependency. Because Yuuri's Fi is tangled up in this massive, decade-long emotional filter for Victor, his feelings are dense, possessive, and raw.
And that's exactly what Victor wants. He doesn't want an equal who politely respects his boundaries; he wants someone to anchor him so intensely that it shatters his stagnant reality. He chooses the messy fire pit over the safe display case, just for the thrill and the feeling of being desperately needed.
This also explains why people who already have their lives perfectly together rarely experience that earth-shattering fatal attraction. It usually hits when you're going through an existential crisis.
When 12-year-old Yuuri saw Victor skate, or when 27-year-old Victor were asked to be a coach by a drunk Yuuri, they weren't magically sensing each other's "beautiful souls." They were looking at each other and seeing the exact new role they desperately wanted to play in life.
Yuuri saw a physical projection of his own buried ambition to be a competitive skater. Victor saw a muse that gave him the perfect excuse to smash his lonely "ice god" pedestal and become a coach. We don't get drawn to people just because we understand them; we get obsessed because they unknowingly hold the script for our next chapter.
This is exactly why Yuuri is so eager to compete on the same ice as Victor. It's not just the standard trope of "I want to beat my idol" or "I want to be approved/recognised by my idol." It's rooted in a selfish, yet insanely romantic human desire: The absolute need to be witnessed.
Victor unknowingly pulled the trigger on Yuuri's destiny when Yuuri was 12. He started this decade-long storm of obsession and transformation. Before his first Grand Prix Final, the pull was already strong, but Yuuri didn't have the confidence to demand Victor look at him. He was terrified of messing up and thought he looked like a fool in front of his idol.
But everything changed after that "failure", once Victor actually stepped into his life as his coach. After Victor rebuilt his confidence, that distant, fearful wish turned into an unapologetic craving.
Yuuri fighting his way back to the GPF isn't just about winning gold. The ice rink is his stage. Standing there is his way of physically cornering the one who started it all. Whether he lands perfectly or crashes into the boards, he just wants Victor's eyes permanently fixed on him. It’s him saying: "You pulled the trigger. You are the origin point of everything I've become. Now you don't get to look away. You're going to stand there and witness exactly what I turned into because of you."
It’s not about begging for understanding. It’s about forcing the cause to acknowledge the effect. It strips away the selfless, sanitized illusions of romance, leaving behind this raw, ego-driven desire for a karmic closure. And ironically, that exact selfishness is what makes their dynamic so real and fascinating.