My grandfather passed away this morning and I thought of how I was never really close to him and I regret it to this day. Then I remember a character who was very close to his own grandfather and how I envied the idea of him having that close relationship with him.
I dedicate this story to my grandfather and may he rest in peace in heaven.
I don't own the characters.
The words washed over Yurio's head as he stared at the casket, his mind wandering to the body inside it as his hands shook from the loss rather than the cold.
He knew this day would come, he knew it would and yet, it hit him hard.
Since he started his debut in the senior division of figure skating, he had spent less and else time with his grandfather, only ever meeting him for New Years for a few days before he had to go back to St Pertersburg for training or an event.
If he could have turned back the clock, he would have taken the year off to care for his ill grandfather, even if it meant missing hitting the streak of gold medals he had obtained from the Grand Prix.
Now, the gold medals weighed him to the ground, crushing him as he was dragged to his knees.
"Yuri, you ok?" Otabek whispered as he squeezed his shoulder. Around the room, skaters mingled with the few mourners that had gathered, most of the old folk just filled with sadness of the passing of an old friend. Viktor was so quiet it made his skin crawl while Yuri Katsuki was failing badly at trying to come up with a conversation in Russian to the mourners. Even his coach hadshownd up and his ex wife along with Emil, Sara and Mike from Italy and heck, even Chris was there.
Nikolai Plisetsky was a kind man who dedicated his life and being to bring his grandson to the stage his son couldn't have made it to before his untimely death. He made sure that Yurio would reach and conquer the world stage the way his father nearly had.
Now he had gone to join him in the heavens.
"Ojichan. Did I do enough for you? Was my sacrifice all in vain?" he whispered as he placed a hand on his grandfather's cold face. Russia was always cold but his grandfather seemed warm to the touch, the serene look on his face telling him that he was finally free of the pain he had gained from old age.
"Yuri," a soft voice said as he turned to look at his mother. She looked fabulous in a black dress and even some of the old men ogled her as she paid her respects to her father in-law. Yurio had inherited her slender body and blonde hair, so blonde it looked like white while apparently, he had his father's temper and harsh wording.
No wonder his mother had taken to him like water.
"Your father was so close to him. I think he'll be glad they can be together now," she whispered as she put a hand on his shoulder. Yurio never did cry but he felt ready to do so now.
"Mother. Do you think… I did well enough? Did I do enough for Ojichan to go in peace?"
Yurio found himself in his mother's embrace, her arms circling his small thin frame. He had grown ever so slightly over the years and at eighteen, his grandfather had said how he had grown more into his looks and began to look like the father he had never known.
"Of course you did. Your grandfather can never be more proud of you."
She released him just as the priest came over, his head bowed low as he sought out permission from the mourning family to begin the march to the cemetery. They nodded as the mourners got behind them, the journey beginning as they trudged off into the snow.
It was a lovely winter's day, the snow thick on the ground and the trees white with snow and glistening with icicles. It was one of those days Yurio would go on walks with his grandfather, laughing and giggling as he munched on his heavenly phiroskis.
"One day Yurochka, I'll how you how to skate. Your dad, he was one of the most fearsome and graceful skaters ever to grace Russian soil and one day, you can be just like him."
"What about mama? Would she approve of me doing it?" he asked as his grandfather carried him into the air, making him squeal.
"She'll love it! Your dad made her fall in love with his fierce attitude on the ice after all! He was known as the Ice Tiger and one day, you just might be called that too!"
More than ten years after that and he had gained the title but now, he didn't know what it meant to him now that the source of inspiration for his skating had gone.
The march was long and slow, his shoes slipping against the ice as he hung onto his mother. Otabek hung behind them, slinking close enough for him to feel his presence and far enough to not get attention from the rest of them. Yuri and Viktor were holding arms, both of them in black and their heads low as they followed close behind.
Without them, Yurio might have collapsed from it all.
When they reached the cemetery, Yurio's mother began to crumble as she came across the grave of her husband and her mother in law. Next to them, a fresh hole had been dug for Nikolai. She sobbed into her handkerchief as Yurio internally snorted.
"So lame. Only when people die do they get remembered by others and get visited by those who are never around," he thought as the priest said the words. He didn't hear anything other than 'has passed on' and 'rest in peace.' Every remained silent throughout the whole thing, some sniffles going around as the priest read the words from the Bible.
"And now for members of the family to place the first pieces of the earth as Nikolai Plisetsky returns to the ground. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. As we rose from the earth, made by the hands of God, so shall we return to the earth."
Yurio reached out, cold soil clenched in his fist as he held it over the grave. He could still remember how his grandfather had supported him all those years, bringing him to every skating class and even allowing him to move to St Petersburg to leave him all alone.
"Yurochka. Why did you come back to be with this dying old man?" he had wheezed as Yurio clutched his hand. He was about to go for the European cup when he heard of his grandfather's condition worsening. First, he had just backache and then he found out that it had turned to bone cancer. By then, it was too late.
"I won't sacrifice skating for you. You're the most important person to me," he had whispered as his grandfather chuckled.
"No. You have people you care about more then me now. Now, go in peace," he had smiled as he slipped away, a calm smile on his face as Yurio clung onto him. For the first time in years, he wept for him.
"I promise, Ojichan. I will win everything in your name. Dasvidaniya," he whispered as he let the soil fall into the grave, tears sparkling through the air as they went to join his grandfather down below.
Yuri Plisetsky was not going to let his grandfather's death be in vain. He would win everything and smash anyone in his way.
He was the Ice Tiger of Russia after all and the Ice Tiger never melts or falters.
Hopefully, this doesn't happen anytime soon in the anime (if season 2 comes out). He's such a sweet old man!
Ave atque vale. Rest in peace. And sayonnara.
All comments and thoughts are welcomed!