A/N: I don't own YoI, because if I did, you'd all be watching season two right now.
...I haven't uploaded fanfiction in literally a decade. People still do disclaimers, right?
This fic is finished and will be updated every Sunday. It's also on AO3 under the username Seaver, if anyone prefers to read it there.
Victor doesn't usually get to be a spectator in a skating event, no competing, no coaching. It's kind of fun to watch, Yuuri thinks fondly. Victor's like a kid in a candy store. Earlier, he tried to convince Yuuri to join him in gorging on snacks from the concession stand. "We have to get the full experience," he had said. Yuuri laughed and shook his head, reminding him that just because they had both already qualified for this year's Grand Prix Final, it was no reason to let themselves go. They would be competing again in less than two weeks, after all.
Jean-Jacques Leroy skates past the stands, striking a pose for all his loyal fans, and Victor chuckles. "Looks like JJ's as confident as ever," he notes. One of JJ's fangirls shoots Victor an expectant look and he obediently waves a little flag that she had thrust into his hands minutes before.
"Yeah," Yuuri agrees, even though he's not paying attention to what was happening on the ice. "But there's only one spot left for the Grand Prix final now that Otabek will be on the podium. And Yurio's a shoe-in." He indulges himself on just one piece of popcorn. "It's not JJ's year."
They had decided come all the way to watch Skate America live on a whim, a pre-GPF vacation to support Yurio and annoy Yakov (Victor's words). So far, the competition has gone the way everyone had predicted. It's been fun to watch everyone's programs, but Yuuri had been hoping for a little excitement. At least the shopping in New York had been good for Victor.
"I know!" Victor's bangs flip as he spins around to face Yuuri. His eyes are wild, and there's a huge smile on his face. Yuuri has learned to associate this look with one of Victor's eccentric, and sometimes misguided, ideas. "Let's go wish Yurio good luck before his free skate!"
Yuuri immediately shakes his head. Yurio will probably just end up harassing them for caring. Or yell at them for gloating, since they had both already qualified for the Grand Prix Final. Yurio likes to find things to yell about.
When Yuuri points this out, Victor just laughs. "Great," he says, "let him blow off some steam at us before he gets on the ice. Maybe then we could claim some credit for his victory!"
Yuuri grins and shakes his head, but he knows arguing with Victor is futile. Already, Victor's halfway out of his seat, abandoning the JJ flag. Yuuri scrambles to follow.
They have no sooner shown their skater IDs to the guards when Yakov's voice comes floating down the hall.
"Yes, tonight… No."
His voice sounds uncharacteristically grim. Yuuri and Victor exchange a look and round the corner to investigate. When Yakov catches sight of them he holds up a finger to finish his conversation. As he finally says goodbye, Yuuri notices how drawn his face looks.
Victor must see it too. "What's wrong, Yakov?" he asks immediately, before Yakov has properly hung up the phone.
Yakov shushes him and glances up and down the hall. Once he sees they are alone, he looks at Victor with sad eyes. "Nikolai has passed away."
Victor's hands fly to his mouth. "Yurio's grandfather?"
Yuuri gasps, feeling the full weight of the words. There's the instant pang of sympathy for Yurio, of course, but also a tiny bit of fear. Yurio, as strong as he makes himself out to be, is an unpredictable bottle of pent-up emotion. Who knows how he'll take this news?
Yakov nods. "I just got the call."
"Does Yurio know?" Yuuri's voice is hushed.
Yakov shakes his head. "I didn't think it right to tell him right before he skates."
Shock is quickly replaced by indignation in Yuuri's chest. "Don't you think he should know?" It comes out a little more accusatory than he means it to. "His grandfather's the most important person in the world to him."
"I know. That's why he shouldn't know, not before he goes out on the ice." Yakov's face hardens. "Don't tell me how to coach my skaters, Yuuri." The words carry a hint of a threat to them.
Yuuri's mouth becomes a thin, rebellious line. This has nothing to do with coaching. This is about Yurio's personal life, and the information shouldn't be kept from him.
With Yakov, though, Yuuri can sense that he's hit a nerve, and he doesn't know the coach well enough to pick a fight with him. Yuuri turns to Victor for support, but can immediately tell by the look on Victor's face that no help will come.
"He's right, Yuuri," Victor says, looking solemn. "Yakov's the closest thing Yurio has to family right now. He's the one who has to tell him, and he should do it on his own terms."
There's an awkward pause when Yuuri debates standing up to both of them, but then Yuuri catches a glimpse of the look on Yakov's face. He's staring at the ground, shoulders slumped with responsibility.
Victor goes on. "Don't you remember what happened after Vicchan died?" This brings a scowl to Yuuri's face. How could he forget? Victor puts a hand on his shoulder. "Haven't you ever wished that your sister hadn't called you until after the competition?"
Yuuri hasn't. Not once. His dog had died, and he had wanted to know.
"Look," Yakov cuts in, his voice a little more patient. "I've already called the airlines, and the soonest they can get us back to Moscow is on the red-eye tonight. Pulling Yura out of the competition now would not get him back to Russia any earlier." Yakov clenches his fists, frown lines etched into his face. "Nikolai is gone. There's nothing anyone can do at this point. Whether Yuri knows now or an hour from now…" He looks down the hall toward the locker rooms. "The only difference it makes is on his performance."
Yuuri still isn't convinced it's the right thing to do, but as he looks back and forth between Victor and Yakov, his arguments dying on tongue. Yakov and Victor have spent years watching Yurio grow up. Both of them have contributed, in no small way, to his upbringing.
It's not Yuuri's place to make this decision.
"HEY!" Yurio's voice echoes down the hallway. The three turn and see him poking his head out of the locker room. "What are you two idiots doing here? I thought you'd want to get a sneak peek at how I'll kick your asses at the Grand Prix Final!" He shoots them the middle finger with a cocky grin, then beckons to Yakov. "Come on, it's time to go."
Yakov sighs as he turns to leave them. Yuuri feels devastated as he watches Yurio retreat to the locker room, on the brink of winning a medal with no idea what's waiting for him afterward. It enough to bring tears to Yuuri's eyes, and Victor wraps an arm around his shoulders and leads him away.
Despite all the sharp insults and angry comments, Yurio is still just a sixteen-year-old kid.
He doesn't deserve this.
