Yuri wanted to sink beneath the floor. Minako! Why was she in his room? Why did she smell like last nights liquor store? Did she sleep in those clothes? He sighed. She had once been a rising star ballerina. Her partner dropped her, but held onto her leg. It resulted in the knee being torn, muscles, tendons, even the knee cap was out of place. After surgery, it just didn't heal right. The woman couldn't ever dance on it again. That was when the drinking started.
She eventually opened her own dancing studio. The drinking became less, but she still was drunk a lot of the time. Training, helping Yuri get to his potential, had helped her tremendously. Since his break from the ice, she was back to her old ways. It weighed heavy on him. He wondered if he was part of the problem?
"Yuri! This is cute!!!" Viktor squealed.
Before Yuri could turn around, his arm came over Yuri's shoulder. He was holding a picture. It was of Yuri, Yuuko and Takeshi. They couldn't be older than seven. He smiled at the memory of that day. It was their first competition, well in town on the outdoor pond!
"Oh, I remember this." Yuri took the photograph. Yuuko was holding the gold medal, he had silver and Takeshi was bronze.
Their families had gotten them. They were the only skaters interested in competing. Minako had taught them dance since they were in preschool. Yuri gushed out the memory of that day. How it had been Mari and Minako who set up the skating competition for the young skaters. He laughed as he recalled how many times he fell! Yet, he had never felt as he had, the day he did it at the grand prix.
He let out a sigh. Turning he smiled up at Viktor. "Care to see where I learned to skate?" he asked.
Viktor was like an overgrown puppy. He leapt about, giggling and jabbering something the others didn't catch. They all laughed at him. He ended up hugging Yuri tightly to him.
"I would love it!" He crowed.
Yuri chuckled. He turned to Maria. "My skates sharp?" he asked.
She snorted, pulling out her cigarettes. "Of course!" she hissed.
Once Yuri picked up his gear bag, the four of them walked out. They waited outside Viktor's room so he could get his bag. He came out in a completely new outfit!
"Why did you change?" Yuri asked.
"That wasn't my practice gear, this is. I don't wear outside close to a rink!" Viktor spoke with an air that exuded, everyone should know this.
Yuri snickered. Viktor eyed him. "You are going to change, yes?" he demanded in his thick accent.
"Of course he is. His gear is in that bag. Unless he left it in his own, personal, locker at the rink. Don't worry, he knows the rules too." Maria called her brother out.
"Shut it!" Yuri laughed at her.
They walked down the back stairs. Yuri feeling happier than he had in a long time. He was also thrilled, that they hadn't taken Viktor to the stairs were all his baby pictures were. Once in the drive, Viktor turned to wave to the car they had driven up here. Yuri caught his hand.
"No! It's tradition. We run." He insisted.
Viktor smiled at that. "Lead the way, my Yuri!" he cooed, taking the shorter man's hand.
Yuri laughed. He turned to call back to Maria, that they would be home for dinner. Maria waved her smoke at him. They ran toward the rink. The familiar ground striking at Yuri's feet. He giggled as Viktor clung to him.
"Hey, a beach!" Viktor cried.
"Yep. We have to run through it. Come on." Yuri turned off of the road. The sand pulled at their feet, making their legs work harder. Together they ran along it.
"Makkchin would love this. The water, the sand, oh look at that stick!" Viktor laughed.
"Uh, Viktor?" Yuri suddenly recalled something.
"Yes, my Yuri?" The way he said it was more as if he was saying, my love. Yuri shivered, shaking the thought away. They were alone, that was not what Viktor meant.
"Where is Makkachin?" he asked.
"Asleep in my room." Viktor shrugged.
"Don't worry, she knows how to behave in hotels." He added, seeing the stricken look on Yuri's face.
"She shouldn't have to be trapped in a room!" he huffed.
"She'll be fine until we get back. I walked her before I came to see you!" Viktor commented.
He pushed the doors. They refused to open. Yuri smiled.
"Not many people come here any longer." Yuri muttered.
Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a key on a chain. It fit into the lock. As he was unlocking the door, Viktor moved from his side.
"You competed at Barcelona? I was there." Viktor pointed to the large poster of Yuri in a tight fighting black and silver outfit.
"Yeah, I was a junior then. You were on the senior circuit already." Yuri pointed out.
"If you knew that, then why did you have to google me, after you saw me at the café?" Viktor asked.
Yuri's face flamed. He shoved the door open. Flicking the lights on, he paused. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. The smells washed over him. His childhood home! His faults, his fears, they seemed to go away, once he stepped inside this place.
"Yuri?" Viktor spoke softly beside him.
"I wasn't a fan of yours, when I skated. It wasn't until I saw you, that I looked you up." He stated, turning toward the locker rooms.
"I pieced together our time line. Figured out when we would have seen each other, stuff like that. Plus Yuuko has always been a huge fan of yours. She loves and breathes figure skating." Yuri insisted.
"Why doesn't she skate any longer?" his companion asked.
"She got pregnant with the triplets." Yuri shrugged.
"She chose motherhood, admirable of her." Viktor nodded.
"Yes. She was good though. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if we had decided to partner up. You know, so the focus wasn't all on me. Would I still be skating?" Yuri walked into the locker room, turning lights on as he went.
Viktor hadn't missed all the pictures, posters or other memorabilia of one Yuri Katsuki, that was plastered all over the waiting areas of the rink. He smiled, a new plan forming in his head. Yuri was good, had been great, what if...
Viktor looked over. Yuri was standing before a brightly decorated locker. His lips turned up in a small smile. There were notes, quotes and other like things taped to the front of it. As the tall Russian skater watched, Yuri stood there to read them all, before opening the door. He stuffed all of the notes into a bag inside the locker. Viktor sighed, didn't the dark haired photographer know, he still had fans!
"I need to use the boys room!" Viktor cried out.
Yuri pointed behind them. "Down this row, turn left." He instructed. Viktor walked away.
He looked through the managers office window. More memorabilia of the time when Yuri Katsuki had put this town on the map. He curved one hand around his eyes, as he peered into the dark.
If Viktor was amazed at the medals and trophies he saw in Yuri's room, it didn't compare to the ones here. Of course, he could only read the name on the ones the light shone upon, but they all had one name stamped onto them. Viktor backed away. He turned to look at even more posters.
Everywhere he looked, the smiling or scowling, trying to look serious, face looked back. One thing Viktor noted was that, Yuri never wore his glasses in any of the shots. Viktor took his time, looking through all the pictures he could find of the man he was enamored with. That was, until he heard the music begin to play through the rinks overhead speakers.
Viktor rushed out of the locker room. He gripped the boards holding him back from the ice. What he saw, took his breath away. Yuri may not be in fit competition worthy body wise, but he could still move.
Most of the time, he had his eyes closed. This was his home rink, he knew every corner of it. Viktor watched, a feeling of shock, awe and something else bubbling to be released, welled inside him. He had seen many attempt to do his performances.
To a one, they all failed somewhere. They couldn't do the quadruple flip, or fulfill the other three quads he often put late into his program. Sometimes it was the step sequence. Viktor liked to move quickly through them, so the foot work was fast. Many skaters got tangled in it.
What he was watching now, was something better than he could ever imagine! A perfect replica of his last long skate. Every detail was exact. Yuri's body flowed with the music. It was as if the music had come alive inside the boy. Viktor could only stare at him.
"His a master, isn't he?" a soft voice spoke beside the silver haired male. Viktor didn't turn away.
"I have never seen the music so alive!" he gushed.
"That's Yuri for you. It isn't about the dancing or the jumps. It's not about the skates on his feet. It's the ice, the cold..." the man's voice grew quiet as they watched Yuri land the quadruple flip, in excellent perfect form.
"It's the music. As long as he can feel the music, nothing stops him." The man turned away, his long dark ponytail flicking across Viktor's cheek.
"I would do anything, to see him compete once again." The man whispered.
"I just wasn't the coach for him." He walked away as Yuri came up to stand, proudly in the final pose. Viktor couldn't help put to applauded!
Yuri shook himself as if he just came out of a daze. Viktor tossed his skate guards aside. He dashed out on the ice. Hugging the smaller body to him, he cried out.
"That was amazing! They way you moved, how..." Viktor went off in Russian. He exclaimed over every detail of Yuri's performance.
Then, he pushed Yuri back. Shaking his shoulders he shouted.
"You must skate again!" Viktor cried.
Yuri laughed. "No!" was all he said as he took out a small remote from his pocket. He pressed a few buttons, new song came up.
"Yuri?" Viktor asked.
"I will never compete again, but I will skate whenever I come back here. Now, you need to practice. This is your current music, right?" he demanded.
"So touchy! You push, push just like Yakov!" Viktor whined.
"Skate!" Yuri coaxed. He began to do the moves he had seen Viktor practicing.
For the next hour or so, the couple ran through the program side by side. With each move Yuri made, Viktor's resolve firmed up.