Yet another YoI story. How many is it before it's considered a problem, lol?
The story turned out a bit long, so I've separated it into several segments. I hope it will be easier to read this way. :)
I hope you like this, it's the fluffiest thing I've ever written! I love writing child characters, they're so fun!
Leave me a comment to let me know what you think!
Finding the way home
"This is a waste of time, Vitya."
"Stop it, Yakov! One day isn't such a big loss."
Viktor turned his attention to the group of children in front of him and gave them a warm smile. They were all different ages; the youngest seemed to be no older than 2. They were all looking at him wide-eyed while the headmistress was introducing him.
The children lived in one of the biggest orphanages in Saint Petersburg. Adoptions were at a low, Viktor knew. The thought that so many children were growing up without a family was torturing him and he wanted to do something for these kids. So he had worked hard on organizing an ice skating gala. He wanted to raise some money for the orphanage.
In reality, organizing the even had been quite easy. The hard part was convincing his coach to actually let him do it. In the end Yakov had relented, but that was only after other skater had learned about Viktor's efforts and had joined in. The event turned out quite succesful. In the end, they had accumulated an impressive sum. They gave the bigger part of it directly to the orphanage, and bought clothes, toys and books for the children with the rest.
The others had decided that they had done enough for the cause, but Viktor had insisted that he should visit the kids to give them their toys in person. He'd firmly declined to let the media know about his decision. He wasn't doing this to earn praise or recognition. He just wanted to make these kids happy.
The children were very shy at first. However, they livened up as soon as Viktor brought the toys out. The boys took theirs and immediately ran off to play, Some of the girls did so too, but most of them lingered. They were looking at Viktor, obviously admiring his long silver hair. Finally, one of them asked, in a tiny voice, if they could maybe braid it. Viktor agreed.
He sat cross-legged on the floor and the girls gathered around him. Some of them took parts of his hair and started to comb it. They pulled on it painfully a couple of times, but Viktor said nothing. He was having a lot of fun. Nobody had asked to braid his hair before.
Yakov stood by the door, looking at him with a scowl on his face. He obviously didn't share Viktor's joy. He'd been complaining that Viktor should use his time to train rather than play around with children. He probably wasn't thrilled about Viktor getting his hair braided either.
"It turned out very pretty!" Viktor said when the girls were done. They had separated his hair into three braids, which they had then braided into one. The final result was a bit too thick and large and didn't suit his lean figure very much, but Viktor liked it anyway.
"Hm?" After the girls had scattered, Viktor noticed a boy, sitting behind alow table. The other children didn't pay him any attention and he seemed equally indifferent to them. He had pale hair, almost white, that had fallen over his face. He kept his head low and seemed to be drawing something. Viktor hadn't noticed him while he'd been giving away the toys.
He went to the boy and crouched down next to him. The child didn't pay any attention to him. Viktor studied the drawing with interest. The boy had drawn a house in the center, in the typical way that kids drew houses - a square white base topped with a red triangle. There was a chimney, of course, with black smoke coming out in spirals. The house was sitting on top of a green block of grass and on its right was, for some reason, a huge waterfall.
"This is a very pretty painting," Viktor said. The child said nothing and kept drawing. He was filling the empty space on the paper with blue. Viktor watched him for a while, then took a hairpin out of his hair. "Your hair's falling in your eyes, hold on."
He smoothed the boy's bangs back and fastened then with the pin. Now he could see the boy's face properly. He had big, bulging eyes; one dark maroon while the other was almost golden in color. His eyelashes were blond and transparent. He seemed to be 3 or 4 years old, Viktor estimated.
"Ohh ... well, aren't you a cute little one?" Viktor smiled.
He stood up and walked away. Standing next to Yakov, he watched the other children play with a smile on his face.
"Vitya, let's go."
Yakov had been tapping his foot on the ground, obviously eager to leave. Viktor didn't understand why he was so upset. Seeing all these happy children had warmed his heart and he wondered why that wasn't the case with his coach.
"Just a few more minutes, Yakov."
The headmistress came to them. She was a plump woman, mid-aged, who seemed unable to treat anyone unmotherly, even the 18-year-old Viktor.
"I'm sorry about Volodya. He's ... a very peculiar child."
"His eyes ..."
"Yes. Poor boy. It's not his fault, but ...", the woman sighed, "well ... couples who are looking to adopt tend to be quite demanding. They don't like picking children who have ... imperfections."
"How did he end up here?" Viktor asked.
"Unfortunately, what happened to him is not that uncommon." The woman shook her head. "Two years ago social services took him from his family. At that time he wighed less than half of what he was supposed to. There were suspicions that he was abused on a regular basis too, but we could only prove that his parents were negligent. That was enough for them to lose custody. And now he's here."
"Now he's here ..." Viktor echoed.
He looked at little Volodya. He felt bad for him, more than he did for the rest of the children here. He'd hoped that he could make these kids happy, even for a while. And here was one who wasn't happy at all.
"Vitya," Yakov put a hand on his shoulder, "it's time to leave."
"Hold on." Viktor went to Volodya. The boy had finished his drawing and was now scribbling random lines on another paper. "Volodya? Can I have this drawing?" He asked. "I like it a lot."
Volodya looked up at him. He watched him for a few seconds, as if he were evaluating him. His different eyes told nothing. After a few seconds of silent staring, he nodded and then went back to his scribbling. He was murmurring something to himself which Viktor was unable to understand.
"Thank you." Viktor patted him on the head.
He was unusually silent during the drive to his apartment. He hardly listened to what Yakov was telling him. Instead, he was staring out the window while his fingers absent-mindedly traced the edges of the paper.
"... saying, Vitya, is that I have nothing against you wanting to help people. Really, this is something quite admirable. But you must not let that interfere with your training, do you understand ..."
He winced softly when he felt the thin edge of the paper dig deeper into his skin. He laid the drawing on his knees, and pressed his sleeve against the wound.
"You okay?" Yakov asked.
"I'm fine. Just got a papercut, Yakov."
Yakov huffed, but said nothing. He kept his eyes on the road, but Viktor felt that he was also somehow watching him. He fell silent again and started untangling his hair from the braid. He'd felt so happy upon meeting those kids. And now ... now there was an empty void in his stomach that had swallowed his joy. He couldn't shake off the burning feeling that he'd made a mistake.
Makkachin, the puppy Viktor had got a few weeks ago, ran into the kitchen. It was barking loudly. There's a scary man at the door, it seemed to be saying. Moments later, Yakov's voice rang.
"Vitya, you've left the front door unlocked again!"
Viktor chuckled. He could hear Yakov huffing heavily while he took his shoes off. Makkachin wasn't barking anymore. It was standing close to him and seemed torn between the need to protect his master and the urge to hide.
"Where are you, Vitya?"
"In the kitchen!" Viktor yelled. He greeted Yakov with a wide smile as soon as the man appeared at the door. "Do you want some dinner? I'm making borscht."
"You're cooking?!" Yakov met the offer with a stony expression. "Vitya, you'll set your home on fire!"
"I won't. I'm doing quite well, actually." Viktor smiled, proud of himself. He took the lid off the pot and grabbed a spoon. "It looks exactly like the pictures in the cookbook. Here, try." He turned to Yakov with a spoonfull of borscht.
"Like I'd ever dare eat anything you made!" Yakov growled. "You can't follow even the simplest instructions. God knows what you've put in that pot!"
"Well, the recipe did seem kinda boring, so I decided to improvise a bit!" Viktor laughed. "You know me so well, coach!"
"Vitya ..." Yakov sighed. "Why are you even cooking? You've never done it before ... you've never even thought about doing it!" He frowned at Viktor. "What's going on, Vitya?"
"Nothing. I just decided to give cooking a shot. Since I'm 18 now, I should know these kinda things, y'know?" He smiled. "I mean, it's sorta the thing adults are supposed to know how to do, right? Are you sure you don't wanna try it? It smells really tasty."
Since Yakov firmly refused, Viktor tried the meal himself. His smile faded and his sface contorted into a grimace of disgust. He put the spoon on the counter and then moved the pot away from the stove. Yet another failed cooking experiment ...
"No matter! I'll try again and again until I'm good at it. I might even hire someone to teach me."
He turned to Yakov with a smile. It froze on his face when he saw Yakov was looking at his fridge. Viktor had hung Volodya's drawing on it.
"Vitya, you still have this?"
"Of course. You should never throw away a gift."
"It's a scrawling from a four-year-old. And you kind of forced him into giving it to you." Yakov rubbed his forehead and sighed. "It's not even that good."
"When I was four years old, I used to fall on the ice all the time," Viktor reminded with a smile. "People develop their skills as they practice. I'm sure that if he wants, Volodya can be a good artist."
"Hmph. I guess that's true." Yakov huffed. "Vitya ... I think it was a mistake to visit that orphanage. There's been something wrong with you ever since."
"There's nothing wrong with me. I just ... I've been thinking about some things. I think that I'm almost certain about what I want to do now. I've gone over it a lot of times over the past few days." Viktor looked at Yakov. "Yakov ... I want to adopt Volodya."
"Vitya ..."
Yakov was talking very softly. He didn't look angered by his words, something which surprised Viktor. He'd expected that Yakov would scold him or berate him. He'd prepared himself for every possible response from his coach. Instead, Yakov just seemed tired.
"Vitya ... you're only 18."
"I'm an adult, Yakov. I'm allowed to adopt a child if I want to," Viktor said quickly. "I've researched these kind of things, you see. If someone wants to adopt a kid, hey need to be approved. There were some requirements that were important, I think. I don't really remember them all, but I know that I meet all of them! I'm well-off with my money, I own a home, I'm very good with kids ..."
"Vitya ..."
"I do meet all the requirements, Yakov! I really do!" Viktor stomped his foot on the ground. "Honestly, I think I'm one of the most perfect people to adopt a child. Tell me honestly - don't you think Volodya will be much happier with me?"
"Vitya!" Yakov repeated with a raised voice. "It's more complicated than you think. This isn't like taking a pet. Having a child is a serious responsibility. It's not a decision that should be taken spontaneously." He sighed. "You're a good kid, Vitya, and I am sure that some day you'll be a good father. But nobody will allow you to adopt a child now."
"But ... I can help him ..." Viktor mumbled. "Yakov, I know it won't be easy. I know that I'll need to fight for Volodya. And I'm willing and ready to do so. And I need you to be behind me, because I won't be able to do it without your help."
"My help?"
"Yeah." Viktor nodded. "If I want to be approved ... you can go to social services and tell them about me. I mean, I think that's what they do, right? So you can tell them everything they wanna know about me, and they'll listen to you, because you've known me for so long. If you tell them that I will be a good father, I'm sure they'll give me a chance."
"Vitya, I know what's going on." Yakov sighed. "This boy reminds you of yourself, doesn't he?"
Before responding, Viktor looked away. His enthusiasm seemed to have left him suddenly. He didn't think Yakov would hit the nail so accurately.
"Not quite," he finally said. "My parents never abused me. They just ... didn't really care about me, I guess. They were busy doing their own things. I mean, I suppose they figured that they just needed to take care of my material need, I don't know." A few strands of hair fell in front of his face, but he didn't bother moving them away. "In any case, I don't think it's fair to compare his life and mine. Volodya's had it much worse than me. That's why I want to give him a home. I think that me and him could become one happy family." He turned to Yakov. "Won't you help me?"
He gave Yakov a pleading look which made the older man sigh again. Yakov seemed to lose his patience quite often with Viktor. He didn't know why, he always tried to be on his best behavior around his coach. It always seemed to backfire.
Yakov was looking at him with an expression Viktor knew all too well. It was the same look he'd given him during Viktor's first competition under his coaching. The other skaters were with their families. Only Viktor had no one. Yakov said nothing, but he knew. After that competition, Yakov took Viktor to live with him. He'd said that Viktor had potential, but needed to be under strict care at all times. Viktor had almost believed him.
Yakov was a kind-hearted man, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Viktor knew that he would eventually help him. He was just putting up a show of indifference now.
"Vitya ... please think about this. This is a huge responsibility. If you're not serious about this child, you can do some serious damage to the poor boy. This isn't something that you can just drop once you get tired of it."
"I'm aware of this!" Viktor rolled his eyes. He knew that this was Yakov's last attempt to dissuade him. "Yakov, I'm honestly serious about this. Just trust me, ok? This isn't just some sudden impulse. I've been thinking about it for several days now."
"Several days is not a long time at all for such a decision!" Yakov sighed and pinched his forehead. "But I suppose that if you really have thought so long about something, then you must be serious about it, at least for the moment."
Viktor smiled, but said nothing. He knew it was better to stay silent until Yakov had confirmed that he'd help him. Otherwise Viktor risked saying the wrong thing that would make his coach lose his temper.
"Alright. I'll do what I can for you. However," Yakov shook a finger at Viktor, "don't expect anything to happen, alright? And I don't want this to affect your training, do you hear me? You have a competition in a little more than a month! You get anything less than gold in that, you put an end to all of this, got it?"
"I got it." Viktor smiled at him. "Relax, Yakov. I'll get first place. This is me we're talking about."
Judging by his coach's face, Yakov didn't find his words reassuring at all.
Some coaches claimed that the sound of blades grating the ice was irritating, but Yakov found it oddly calming. He'd been a coach for so long that he could tell just by the sound whether a skating was performing their routine well.
He was eyeing the couple on the ice critically. Both skaters were young and fairly inexperienced. It was his job to prepare them for their first competition next season. It wouldn't be easy, Yakov thought as he wacthed the pair skate. He was mostly silent, and only occasionally would bark out a criticism if their performance was particularly sloppy.
"Maxim, don't be afraid to lift your partner higher! The two of you must be perfectly synchronized. You're two parts of the same mechanism, for God's sake!"
"Olya, lift your right leg, girl! Judges tend to deduct points if you accidentally slaughter your partner on the ice!"
He rubbed his forehead. He didn't enjoy pair skating, especially coaching it. He preferred coaching individual skaters. It was easier and he only had one incompetent person at a time to deal with.
He looked around. Maxim and Olya were in the center of the rink, while a group of other skaters were practicing at the edges. A couple of girls were chatting merrily while they were tying their skates. Georgi, his newest underling, was standing a bit farher away from the others, looking slightly nervous. Two other skaters, aged 23 and 24 and already considered veterans, were leaning on the railing and watching the pair as well. Viktor was nowhere to be seen.
Yakov sighed and looked over the skaters a second time. His frown deepened once he made sure that indeed, Viktor wasn't here. This was quite unusual. Practice had started half an hour ago. Viktor, despite being a complete air-head, was rarely so late. Where could he be?
"Has anyone seen VIktor?" He asked.
The others looked around murmurring. Nobody had seen him. Apparently, Viktor wasn't even in the building. Yakov huffed in annoyance. He'd known they would eventually come to this.
For the past week Viktor had been in the midst of a torrid battle with social services. True to his word, he hadn't let these struggles affect his training. Yakov had helped him as much as he could. He'd written some letters and he'd even attended a hearing with a committee where he had to answer all kinds of questions about Viktor. He wasn't sure if his effort had achieved anything, as Viktor didn't talk much about it. He hadn't changed much outwardly, but Yakov could see that he wasn't his usual self. Even his persistent smile seemed forced and unnatural.
Perhaps the pressure had finally got to him? Yakov had feared this would happen sooner or later. He'd tried to convince Viktor to give up his efforts. He didn't want Viktor to get too stressed right before a competition and ruin his career because of an impulse. However, Viktor had remained as firm as a rock. He'd declared that he would fight for Volodya until the end of time if he had to.
"Coach! Sorry I'm late!"
"Viktor! This better be the last time you're late, do you hear me, boy? I've never had anyone else come half an hour late!" Yakov turned to Viktor. "I've told you countless times that the most important thing for an athlete is ... it is ... the discipline is ..." His voice trailed off.
Viktor was standing in the entryway and he wasn't alone. He was holding a small child by the hand. Before Yakov could say anything else, Viktor spoke again, this time in a louder voice.
"Everyone, I want you to meet Volodya!" He went to the benches and helped the boy sit down. Then he took his hat off and unwrapped his scarf. "Okay, you can unzip your jacket too. It's not as cold here," he said softly while he was smoothing down the boy's hair.
The girls surrounded them.
"Ohh, Viktor, he's so cute! Is he your little brother?"
"Look at how alike you two are! He's like a smaller Viktor, isn't he?"
"Ohh, look! He's blushing! So adorable!"
Yakov grabbed Viktor by the arm and pulled him away from the crowd.
"Don't tell me," he began, "that they actually let you adopt him!"
"It's not certain yet. But I convinced them to give me a chance to prove myself." Viktor smiled. "Volodya will live with me for a while. During that time, I'll have regular visits from social services to check up on how he's doing. If they're satisfied, they'll let me officially adopt him." His smile broadened and he started jumping up and down. "I'm so glad they gave me a chance! I took Volodya from the orphanage yesterday. We went to get something to eat, and then we went shopping. I bought him all kinds of cute things! He's really such a sweet kid, Yakov!"
Yakov looked at the child. He hadn't had a good look at him back in the orphanage. He didn't think the boy looked any happier now. In fact, he looked almost scared to death. He was staring at the girls wide-eyed and his lower lip was quivering.
"Vitya, this kid will die if you keep putting him in the spotlight like this," Yakov pointed out. "Look at him. In a second or two he'll be wailing!"
"Yeah, he is a bit shy." Viktor nodded. He went to Volodya and sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his tiny body. The child leaned closer and hid behind him. "Ladies, let's give Volodya some time to get used to you, hm?" Viktor asked with a smile while stroking the boy's hair. "Are you okay?"
The little boy looked up at him. He nodded and then moved his gaze down. He was so small that his feet didn't even reach the ground.
"I need to go change," Viktor told him. "Yakov will keep you company. You two will become very good friends, won't you?"
"..."
The child raised his head and looked at Yakov. He was scared. Little kids always found him scary, for some reason.
"Ok, I'll be back soon!"
Viktor patted the boy on the head and then headed to the changing rooms. Yakov looked at the child. It was very rare that he met young children and had to talk to them. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to treat them.
"Come on, get back to practicing!" He yelled at the girls that were still loitering around. "If you get distracted so easily, then perhaps you aren't fit for figure skating!"
He sat down next to Volodya. The boy had shrunk, scared by his loud voice. He still had his jacket zipped to his chin, even though Viktor had told him that he could unzip it.
Yakov sighed. There it was - Viktor was proving from the very start that he was unfit to care for a child. Yakov wasn't a parent but he was fairly certain that a child should feel happy and safe around their guardian. That didn't appear to be the case with Volodya.
"You, boy," he cleared his throat to make his voice softer, "how old are you?"
"I'm four," Volodya replied dutifully. He even raised his hand with four short fingers sticking up to emphasize his answer.
Well, that was something. At least Yakov had managed to get the kid talking.
He fell silent. He watched the skaters and gave instructions when needed. He noticed that Volodya was watching them with interest.
"Volodya!"
Viktor had returned and was already on the ice. He was leaning on the railing and was smiling at the child.
"Will you watch me while I practice? You can come closer, nobody will be mad at you if you do."
"Okay."
The boy jumped from the bench and walked to him. He wasn't tall enough to look over the wall, so Viktor instructed him to stand by the entramce to the rink so that he could see. The child gave Yakov a shy glance before moving there. He watched Viktor while he was warming up by doing circles around the rink.
Perhaps Viktor wasn't such a bad "parent", Yakov thought. He definitely didn't lack enthusiasm and seemed to be making an effort to make the boy comfortable with his surroundings.
Practice proceeded as usual. At first Yakov had feared that the child's presence would distract Viktor too much. But the opposite happened. Perhaps trying to impress the boy, Viktor was uncharacteristically concentrated. He only paused his skating from time to time to check up on the boy. But otherwise his performance was much smoother than usual.
A few hours passed before Yakov announced that the skaters could go home. As usual, he stayed behind and waited until everyone else had left before heading to the exit himself. He was surprised when he found Viktor and Volodya were still here. They were standing in the entryway, near the exit. Viktor had crouched down and was tying the scarf around the boy's mouth.
"There we go! Now you won't be cold outside!" He hummed. "Well, what do you want to do now? We can go to the store to buy groceries and then we can make our own dinner, or we can order food from some place. Mm, what do you say, Volodya?"
"I thought you'd already left, Viktor."
"Yakov!" Viktor turned to him and smiled. "No, we're still here. Volodya needed to use the restroom." He stood up and took the child's hand. "Volodya had a lot fun today. He really likes figure skating, don't you, Volodya?"
"Y-yeah ..." Volodya said with a tiny voice that was completely muffled by the thick scarf. The part of his face that could be seen was bright red.
The three left the building together. Viktor was talking all the way to Yakov's car. He told Yakov about the things he'd ought for the boy, like toys and clothes. He told him about some kids shampoo he'd bought that smelled so good that he'd used on his own hair too. He told Yakov that he wished Volodya's hair would be longer, so that he could play with it.
While he listened to him, Yakov began to realize that he'd been right the first time. Viktor definitely had no idea what he'd got himself into. He saw Volodya as some living doll that he could dress up and play with. He didn't realize yet that along with the positive, caring for a child had its fair share of challenges. A parent had to ensure that their child would grow up as a wholesome, independent and healthy person. Viktor, it seemed, was unaware of the importance of the role that he'd undertaken.
He'd never expected that Viktor would actually be allowed to take that child home, even it was only temporary. Seriously, who the hell decided that an 18-year-old was suitable to care for a child?!
Yako knew he needed to talk to Viktor as soon as possible. This time, he wouldn't be nice about it. Viktor needed to understand that he needed to take the boy back to the orphanage.
The front door was locked this time, Yakov discovered. He hadn't expected that but it was a pleasant surprise. Finally, Viktor was starting to realize that he shouldn't leave his home open to intruders. He knocked on the door and a while later Viktor opened it.
"Yakov!" He exclaimed happily. Yakov found this a bit irritating - after all, they had last seen each other just hours ago. "Come in, come in! But you'll have to be very quiet, Volodya is already sleeping. Poor thing, I think today was too much for him!"
"Probably." It was quite late. Yakov had deliberately visited Viktor at such a time, to ensure that he could talk to him without the child hanging around them.
"Do you want dinner? Volodya and I made salad and then soup. It was so fun! Did you know there were animal-shaped noodles for soup?"
"Ehh, no, no thank you. I've already eaten."
"Come then. I haven't shown you Volodya's room, have I? I decorated it myself before he came here and I'm really proud of how it turned out! Come and see. But you have to be really quiet, ok?" Viktor reminded him before taking his hand.
He led Yakov to the smaller of the two bedrooms and opened the door. Yakov peeked in. He hadn't even known that Viktor had prepared a room for a child he might not be allowed to adopt. This was bad, he thought. Viktor seemed to be obsessed with the idea of adopting this child.
The room was swallowed in darkness. Only a small lamp on a nightstand was turned on, glowing with a soft blue light that wouldn't disturb the sleeping child. Yakov could barely see the boy - a small lump beneath the thick blanket. His white hair was spread all over the pillow. Yakov guessed that the other lump in the bed was Viktor's dog. He could clearly hear theirbreathing in the stillness of the bedroom.
"Isn't he cute?" Viktor asked after he and Yakov had returned to the living room. He'd closed the bedroom door, so there was no need for them to whisper.
"Yes, I suppose." Yakov sat on the sofa and looked at Viktor. "Vitya ... you seem to have made a lot of changes for this child."
"Of course I have! I want Volodya to feel comfortable here. This is his home now too!"
"That's admirable, but ... you are aware that you still need to be approved to adopt him, don't you?" Yakov reminded him. "This isn't really his home, not yet."
"I know. But now that Volodya is with me, I can show everyone that I will be the best dad in the whole world!"
Viktor was talking with full conviction. Yakov knew that tone all too well. Other skaters had commented that the secret to Viktor's success was not his talent, but rather his attitude. The thought that he might fail or get anything less than what he was aiming for simply never passed through his mind. And seeing Viktor's achievements so far, it was hard for Yakov to doubt this. There were very few instances in Viktor's life that could be considered failings.
Yakov sighed and decided to try a different approach.
"Hm ... and how does Volodya feel with you? He seems very quiet to me. Does he like being here."
"He does. I think that he's still a bit nervous, even around me. He doesn't talk much. But he seems to like Makkachin a lot! The two are always together! I'm getting kinda jealous, to be honest." Viktor smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. "I tried to explain what was happening to him, you know? I told him that I was hoping he could live with me and that I'd be very caring. And I asked him to tell me whenever he feels sad or scared, but he hasn't done so yet."
"Huh?"
"Well, that's what it said in the books I got. And they were written by people who really know children."
"Books?" Yakov was confused.
"Yeah. Here, look." Viktor reached out and grabbed some books from under the coffee table. "I bought some books about child psychology. I thought they might help me understand Volodya better."
Yakov studied the books. They were heavy tomes with hardened covers. The authors sounded vaguely familiar to him. They were famous Russian psychologists. What stood out most to him was that these books were obviously intended for university students. They weren't some mass-produced self-help books. It seemed like Viktor had done some extensive research after all.
"Vitya, this is some serious material you've got here."
"I know. But I have to know these kinds of things, right? I mean ... I owe it to Volodya, don't I? I need to be able to give him love and support when he needs it." Viktor's smile had faded and he was frowning slightly. "You know, Yakov, I asked at the orphanage about Volodya's full story. I thought I should know everything about him so that I'd know how best to take care of him. And ... the poor boy's had a tough life. I mean really tough. His dad was a worker who lost his legs in an incident. After that he couldn't find work and he only got a small disability pension. His wife - Volodya's mom - eventually walked out on the family. Volodya was barely a year old when that happened. His dad started dating another woman, and the two regularly "forgot" to feed Volodya so that they could save money. And it gets worse!"
"It does?" Yakov looked at Viktor intrigued. This was the first time that Viktor encountered this side of reality. It was clear that he was shaken to his core.
"Yes! Some time after Volodya ended up in the orphanage, he started having these nightmares and he generally showed signs of some trauma. Everyone assumed that this meant that his father had physically abused him. But they couldn't know for sure. See, his dad denied it and Volodya was only two, so he couldn't say anything himself." Viktor fell silent for a while. He took the books and piled them in a neat stack on the table. "That's why I want to be fully prepared. I want to help Volodya, Yakov. I want him to feel happy and safe here. I want him ... I want him to be a child, you know? Thankfully, he hasn't had any nightmares here, but I've only had him for two days. If he has nightmares, I'll seek some professional help for him. But I want to be prepared myself."
For a while Yakov didn't know what to say. He was staring at Viktor. This was a new Viktor he'd never known existed before. This Viktor was nurturing, mature and determined. Maybe ... maybe adopting this child wouldn't be a mistake. Perhaps, instead of ruining his life, like Yakov had feared, Volodya would actually bring some meaning to it.
"Vitya," he began, "this is, I think, the most sensible and responsible thing you've ever done."
Viktor smiled at him. The compliment had revived his cheerful mood.
"I told you - this is me! I was sure I was gonna do a good job because I wanted to, you know? But really, I'm serious about Volodya. I want the two of us to be a family." He looked at Yakov. "I know it won't be easy. Volodya is a child that needs a lot of love and care. I'm certain that no matter how good my intentions are, I will make some mistakes as a parent. But that's no reason to give up, right? I think ... no, I know that I'll be a good father no matter what!"
"I cannot believe they let you take that child out of the country."
"That's a good sign, right?" Viktor cheered. He'd been giddy ever since he found out he could take Volodya with him to the competition. He was certain that Volodya was his good luck charm. "If they've allowed me to do that, it means that they've already approved me, right?"
"Don't jump to any conclusions yet!" Yakov scolded him. "They'll make their decision in a few weeks. Still, isn't it a bit too much to have taken him with you? The boy doesn't look so happy, to be honest."
"Give him time!"
Viktor looked to his right. Volodya was curled up in a blanket and asleep. During their flight to Moscow, he'd been awestruck and could barely contain his excitement. He'd spent most of the flight with his nose pressed against the window, entranced by the clouds around them. Viktor found him quite adorable. He couldn't remember if he'd been that excited when he'd flown for the first time.
When they'd boarded the plane from Moscow to Tokyo, however, Volodya's energy had been completely sapped. He fell asleep minutes after the plane took off. Viktor had wrapped a blanket around him to keep him warm.
"Do you think I should wake him up and get him to eat something?" He asked Yakov. "He hasn't eaten anything in a while."
"I think that if he's hungry he'd say so." Yakov shrugged. "Or maybe not. He doesn't talk much, does he?"
"He talks more when it's just him and me. I think he's a little bit scared of you, Yakov." Viktor chuckled. "But he's not so shy at home. And he's very smart too! I've been teaching him how to read and write."
"Don't push him too much, ok? He's still little, he has time to learn these things."
"I'm not pushing him. He actually likes it when I'm teaching him." Viktor loved it when he got to cuddle up with Volodya and Makkachin and listen to Volodya read from a book. The boy was still stuttering and mispronouncing longer words, but he was gradually becoming better at reading. Viktor was very proud of him. He couldn't remember at what age he'd learned to read, but he was certain that he hadn't been as young as Volodya. He sighed and patted the sleeping child on the head. "There's just one thing ... I don't like it that he keeps calling me Mr. Viktor. I want him to feel closer to me. I told him that I'd be very happy if he called me papa or dad, but he just keeps shaking his head."
"Well, you can't expect him to get on board so quickly." Yakov shrugged again. "The kid had a tough life, you said so yourself. It'll probably be hard for him to accept anyone as a parent, no matter how well they treat him. And if he's as smart as you claim, he probably realizes he might be sent back to the orphanage soon."
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense ..." Viktor stroked Volodya's hair. "But I have a feeling ... I'm alsmot certain that he'll stay with me." He gave Yakov a smile. "Do you think he'll like Japan?"
Viktor had been to Japan before, when he competed in the junior league. He didn't get to see much of the country then, because his coach at the time was slightly paranoid about his health and had kept him under strict quarantine the whole time.
Now Viktor was looking forward to going sight-seeing with Volodya. He was sure they'd have a good time.
"He's a young kid, I'm pretty sure he'll like everything that's new to him."
"Probably." Viktor chuckled.
"Say, Vitya, what will you do with the kid while you're skating? You can't take him with you there."
Viktor looked at his coach. His lips twisted into an angelic smile.
"Actually Yakov, I was kinda hoping-"
"No!"
"Please? I'll need to talk to the reporters afterwards and I don't want them finding out about Volodya. What if they start chasing after him and pestering him? Volodya is very shy and this kind of attention can be catastrophic to him. I want him to have a peaceful life."
Yakov sighed.
"Then why did you even take him with you?"
"Simple - I wanted him to be with me," Viktor replied with a smile.
He made himself more comfortable and then closed his eyes. He kept one hand on Volodya's head so that he'd know if the boy woke up. He had faith in Yakov. He was sure that despite his answer, Yakov would help him out. He always did, Viktor thought with a smile. Soon he dozed off. He dreamt that he and Volodya were decorating a Christmas tree with birthday candles.
Mr. Viktor was sitting at a table near the window. He was talking animatedly, occasionally stopping his gesticulation to stroke the gold medal that hung from his neck. A few other people kept taking photos of him.
Volodya wasn't so sure why so many people wanted to talk to Mr. Viktor. A lot of people seemed to like him, he'd noticed. And they were all so eager to take photos of him too! That was probably because Mr. Viktor was very pretty. Volodya wondered why Mr. Viktor wasn't blushing. He'd blush if people started to ask him all those questions. But luckily no one even noticed him.
Mr. Viktor had asked him to stay with Mr. Yakov while he talked to the people. Mr. Yakov looked unhappy. He was frowning and had his arms crossed. Volodya was a bit scared of him, because he never smiled. The new mom that his dad had brought home also never smiled.
He yawned and then rubbed his ears. The crowds at the rink were so noisy that his ears were still ringing! Volodya had never seen so many people in one place. And they were all screaming and clapping and looking so happy! Some of them carried flags too, like they were an army. Mr. Viktor had told him that each flag represented a different country, but to Volodya they'd all seemed the same.
He looked at Mr. Yakov again. He wanted to ask him when they would go back to their room, but at the same time he didn't want to bother the old man. Mr. Yakov yelled a lot and Volodya didn't want to get yelled at.
"Boy, you feeling okay?" Mr. Yakov asked in his gruff voice. Volodya nodded, and then looked away. "You wanna go out?"
He nodded again. Mr. Yakov took his hand and took him outside. The street was bustling with people and he pulled Volodya closer. Volodya looked at the people walking past them with interest. They looked so different than him. He wondered why that was. Mr. Viktor probably knew. He was very smart.
The food was different too. On the day they arrived, they had dinner in the hotel restaurant. Mr. Viktor ordered a lot of Japanese food. Volodya liked it, especially the rolls that had fish and rice in them. He'd forgotten what they were called, but he remembered they had a funny name. He couldn't eat with chopsticks like the other people in the restaurant, which made him kind of sad but Mr. Viktor promised he'd teach him. Mr. Yakov said that he didn't want to eat raw fish and had a steak.
Afterwards they had tea but it wasn't like the tea Volodya drank in Russia. This one was slightly bitter and they drank it out of little bowls, not cups. They didn't have handles and Volodya burnt his fingers while holding his.
"Oh, damn it!" Mr. Yakov huffed. His phone was ringing. He had a large, black phone that somehow looked as scary as him. "What is it, Maxim? Didn't I tell you that while I'm away, Semyon will look after you? What's so important that you're bothering me with it?"
Volodya covered his ears. He didn't like hearing people yell. It made him scared that they would yell at him too.
He turned around and something caught his attention. There was a store next to the cafe. It sold all kinds of things. Volodya studied the front window with interest. There was a purple and gold robe on a mannequin, some huge plates with flowers drawn on them, wooden blocks and many other curious things. But what Volodya liked most was a huge plush crab that was sitting atop a white ottoman.
Mr. Viktor had bought him a lot of toys. Volodya liked them all and he enjoyed playing with them, especially when Mr. Viktor and Makkachin joined in. But he'd never seen a toy like that crab. It was almost as big as him, it had huge claws and its shell was dark green.
Volodya was staring at the toy with an open mouth. He even went closer to the window, so that he could see this majestic toy better.
It would make him so happy if he had this crab! Mr. Viktor had said that he wanted to buy him a present from Japan. But he'd already bought him so many nice things and Volodya already had more than enough toys. Mr. Viktor would probably get angry if he was asked to buy the crab. No, it was better for Volodya to say nothing.
He would just look at the toy for a while and then go back to Mr. Yakov. He put his hands against the glass, positioning them over the crab's claws. His breath was making the window misty and he could easily imagine that he was looking at a real live crab in an aquarium.
He could still hear Mr. Yakov's voice, but he was too concentrated on the toy to let it bother him. Mr. Viktor had said that Mr. Yakov wasn't scary, and Volodya believed him. Mr. Viktor was very nice and would never lie to him.
Suddenly the crab disappeared! Volodya blinked and took a step back. He was shocked at first, but then he relaized what must have happened. Someone had bought it! At first Volodya was sad but then he remembered that if someone had bought the toy, then it meant that the crab would have a new home and a new friend who would take care of him.
Now that the crab was gone, Volodya thought he should go back to Mr. Yakov. He was still on his phone and hadn't noticed that Volodya wasn't by his side. That was good, Volodya suspected that if he'd know Volodya had been away, he'd yell at him.
"Hey, little boy!"
He'd only made a step or two when someone patted him on the head. Volodya turned around startled. A stranger stood in front of him! And he was holding the crab! He was smiling at Volodya.
"Here you go."
Volodya didn't understand what the stranger was telling him. He stood, frozen in place, looking up at the man. He knew that there were bad people who stole kids from the streets. Was this stranger going to take him? Should Volodya start screaming for help? Mr. Yakov was just a couple of steps away, surely he would hear him.
"Take it. I got it for you."
The stranger kept talking in his weird language. Volodya thought that he didn't seem like a bad guy at all. He actually looked very nice and smart. He had dark hair and glasses and his eyes were very soft. He seemed aware that Volodya didn't understand him, because he started gesturing. He pointed at the toy he was holding and then slowly moved his hand to point at Volodya. He repeated this a couple of times.
"For ... m-me?" Volodya mumbled.
Nobody had even given him any gifts. Mr. Viktor had bought a lot of things for him, bur he had to. He wanted Volodya to live with him. Volodya knew that Mr. Viktor had to be nice to him, or else Volodya would have to go back to the orphanage.
But what did this stranger want? Did he want Volodya to live with him too? Or was he really just a nice person who wanted to give him the crab as a present? Volodya wanted to believe that, but he was scared to. He didn't want to get his hopes up.
He looked at the stranger, trying to figure out what he wanted. He was dressed in black pants and a white shirt. He had a white, red and blue badge pinned on his jacket. A flag with the same colors was sticking out of his pocket. It had Mr. Viktor's name on it too. Volodya relaxed. Oh, so this was just one of those people that liked Mr. Viktor! There was no need to feel scared of him. He looked at the stranger and then shyly reached out to take the toy.
He expected the stranger to scold him, but the man just smiled. Encouraged by this, Volodya took the toy in his arms. It was really big and so soft! He smiled, feeling truly happy.
"Thank you!" He told the stranger. He wanted to know his name, but he wasn't sure how to ask him. Then he thought of something. He pointed to his nose. "Vladimir," he said before pointing to the man.
"You want to know my name?" After he'd given him the toy, the stranger had crouched slightly so that he'd be closer to Volodya's height. "Yuuri."
"Yuri," Volodya repeated. He laughed and lifted the crab in front of his face. "He will be Yuri too!"
"You'll name the crab after me?" Mr. Yuuri blushed. "This is very sweet of you, Vladimir-kun. I-"
"Yuuri, come on! We'll miss the train!"
"Yuuko-chan! I'm coming!" Mr. Yuuri smiled at Volodya and patted him on the head. "I have to go. Bye-bye, Vladimir-kun!"
Volodya returned to Mr. Yakov, who was still shouting on the phone. This time his loud voice didn't scare him. He was holding Yuri the crab against his chest and the soft plush toy was a shield against everyone that wanted to harm him. This crab was now his friend and protector. Volodya hummed to himself while he waited for Mr. Yakov to finish his call.
"You listen to me, Maxim! You better man up and stop being such a crybaby, or else you'll be the one wearing the dress in your routine!" Mr. Yakov hung up and clicked his tongue in annoyance. "20 years old and still cries about everything ... young people today are just ..." He sighed. "Boy, let's go back to Viktor. He should be finished by now and where the hell did you find that ugly thing?!"
"His name is Yuri!" Volodya declared happily.
Mr. Yakov couldn't find an answer to that. At this moment Viktor walked out of the cafe. He was in his usual sunny mood.
"Ok, I'm done with my interview! Now we can go get something to eat and then we can go with Volodya to that park with all the rides we drove by on our way here! Hm? What do you say, Volodya?" His eyes widened when he saw the crab toy. "O, this is adorable! I've never seen a crab plushie before! Did Yakov get it for you, Volodya?"
"No." Volodya shook his head. "His name is Yuri and he's now my best friend! Can I ... can I keep him?"
"Of course you can!" Viktor clapped his hands. "Of course that we'll take Yuri with us!"
"Really?" Volodya grinned. His eyes were sparkling. "Thanks, papa!"
"Papa?!" Viktor was stunned. Then he smiled, bent down and took Volodya in his arms. "You said papa! Yakov, did you hear, he called me papa!" He laughed and kissed the boy on the cheek. Volodya gigled and hid his face in the crab toy. "I'm your papa and you're my son! I love you so much, Volodya!"
"And Yuri too?" Volodya asked, looking up at him.
"And Yuri too, of course." Viktor nodded.
End
Some of my thoughts while writing the story:
- I always thought that Viktor would be very active with charities and would use his fame back in Russia to raise awareness for different issues
- Viktor's parents, in my mind, are very well-off, but they paid no attention to him. So when he started training with Yakov, Yakov basically took him under his wing and started acting as his father. Viktor eventually moved out of his home at the age of 16.
- During the parts with Yakov's point of view, I deliberately made him refer to Volodya as "boy" and "child". I think that subconsciously Yakov would distance himself from Volodya, going as far as not using his name lest he got attached, because he doubted that Viktor would be allowed to adopt him.
- Yuuri actually has no idea who Volodya is! :D This is how the scene went in my mind - Yuuri, Yuuko and Nishigori were in Tokyo to watch the skating competition. After it was over they were on their way to the station when Yuuri saw Volodya looking at the toy. He feels bad for the kid and, still being happy from seeing his idol skate in person, decides to buy the toy for the kid.
- This is a Viktuuri story in my mind. While Yuuri and Viktor don't even meet in the story, the final part show how connected they are from the very start, even during a time when they didn't know each other.
- I think that now that Volodya calls Viktor "dad", Viktor's next step will be teaching him to call Yakov "grandpa"! :D
