Heartbreak and betrayal made a man even more bitter than he was before.

Her love for her mother made a woman's life more difficult due to hatred.

A girl's love for a man was so selfish to the point it destroyed herself.

A man's desperation concluded as he met the woman who became the answer to his life.

Two married lovers tried conquering unavoidable obstacles to protect their family, but only to end up breaking their trust to each other.

Different situations, one story.

Anastasia Velazques Kurkilaakso appears into Yuri Plisetsky's life as a complete destroyermaking Viktor and Yuuri Nikiforov-Katsuki face trouble as she was the unknown daughter of Viktor from his first love, Felicia. Despite of having heartbreak and distrust to people due to his past with Otabek Altin, Yuri treats her rudely-for she was a threat for him. They soon became in good terms with each other, but not until the start of skating season.

Will they ever find happiness in paradise?


ONE: HIS HEARTBREAK


The man stood in front of the rink, nervous.

Coldness and loneliness surrounded the atmosphere as it opposed the warm, lush energy outside at the heart of the Russian city. In front of him was a man, tall and well-built, with sun-kissed skin and a chiseled face that highlighted his jawline along his soft, shiny cluster of hair arranged in an undercut. He was clad in a leather jacket with a gray turtleneck hanging below his neck, rising up and down along with his breath while his face remained stoic and quiet. A dark persona—the hero of Kazakhstan—that man was the one he loved, Otabek Altin.

The man's emerald green eyes met his brown ones as he clenched his fist, trying to grasp something for strength. Isn't this the moment he's been waiting for, is he? But even if his long blond hair covered his face, Otabek can see that he was nervous—obviously anxious. He can see his clenched fist shake and his alabaster skin turn whiter as he continued gazing at him. Trying to sound as if he regretted calling him here, Otabek called out in a unfamiliar voice; "Yura…"

Yura? The man thought as his eyes broke the contact and looked down on the translucent ice glowing in sunlight. Call me Yuri. Yuri Plisetsky!

Despite of his calls, Otabek became even more regretful. He shouldn't have done this to him. He shouldn't have fooled him. He shouldn't have lied—no betrayed him. But all in all, he did love him. But what can he do, now that everything's changed? To his surprise, he replied in a broken tone; "What is it, Beka?"

Otabek silently gasped as he heard his name rolling off from his tongue in a hard tone. Yuri, on the other hand, had thoughts running at the back of his mind: Where did he go wrong? What did he do to make him to that to him? Is he tired of him? or maybe right from the start—You didn't love me, do you?

"You did not do anything wrong, Yura. It's just that it's me." He bit his lip in despair as it twitched, making him nervous too. "I did love you. It's just that I…I…"

"Then why?!" His eyes widened as he saw the pitiful sight in front of him: shiny tears were all over Yuri's face as he avoided his gaze from him. His frail little body sat on the cold, hard ice helplessly as he sobbed. "Then why did you that?! After all the time, you fooled me!"

"I…I…" Otabek trailed off, unable to contain words. But as soon as he remembered everything that happened between them, rage boiled his blood, making him suddenly angry. "You know what, everything happened because you never did have effort in this pesky relationship of ours!"

Shocked, Yuri looked into him with eyes wide. His mouth opened, but it was unable to blurt out words. He can see the menacing look of the man as his brown eyes burned in rage. "There's someone that I want to be right now, you know? And the best part, huh? It isn't you! I am sorry."

The tone his sorry was indicating mere mock, making Yuri even more enraged than he was. He stood up, and stared coldly at him. To Otabek's surprise, a hand met his face and smacked into it. Yuri's voice was hoarse as his tears went out endlessly. "I already know that! I already know that I am incapable of having effort in this bullshit relationship of ours! But what did I do? I trusted you—I shrugged those thoughts of you having another because I trusted you!"

A faint chuckle came out of his mouth. "I'm a pathetic person, aren't I? Always fooled by people because he always trusts them so easily. But anyway, you're an asshole ever since I met you… but I trusted you, and this happened?"

Without any thinking, he slowly walked out, leaving him alone.

He slowly walked outside, trying not to embarrass himself and shamelessly cry in front of many people. Russia was warm in April, but it failed to warm the coldness filling inside him. After his grandfather died when he first joined the Olympics, nothing seemed to stay beside him—even love itself decided to curse this damned human being into loneliness. But nevertheless, he carried on.

But why? He'd always ask that question to himself. No one even dared to give him an explanation—the blame was always on him. If and only if I…

He gasped. He can't bear this feeling anymore. Running to find somewhere to let his tears flow, his feet finally managed to get to its desired destination: the lake. Sitting by the only lonely bench, he sobbed as the very words replayed into his head like a broken disc. It made his heart throb in pain, with the torture worsening as he remembered the way his voice mocked him.

Pity. It was the word, but he doesn't want to believe that. Desperate for someone to talk to, he carelessly fished out his phone and called a random number. And suddenly, a familiar voice reached his ears. "Yurio?"

"Ah, Katsudon."

"Wait… Are you cryi—"

"Shut up!" He said in hard tone, making him unable to form words in the middle of his sobs. "I am fucking sobbing."

"But why?"

"I'm going there."

"O—" He aggressively pressed the end button and leant back. Closing his eyes, he knew that this was the right thing to do. To start all over again.


"Yurio?"

A Japanese man greeted him as he stood by the door. Three days had passed and here he is right now, standing in the sunny land of Japan. Yuri had his head down and fixed his gaze on the stones on the ground. This Japanese man—still in his usual self wearing his blue-rimmed eyeglasses—in the name of Yuuri Katsuki or shall he say Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov, noticed his flustered face. In a worried tone, he asked, "What's wrong?"

Replying nothing, Yuri slowly lifted his head and met his gaze. To his surprise, bullets of tears came shooting out of his eyes as his body fell helplessly, making Yuuri catch him into a hug. Yuri's eyes widened despite the endless tears flowing down as he noticed warmth from his hug—it was comforting, and it felt like it loses anxiety. Seeing how helpless he was, Yuuri said reassuringly; "Why don't we take a seat and smooth things out?"

He sat on the sofa with his face bright red from crying. He was awfully quiet, Yuuri thought as he placed a glass of water in front of Yuri. Yuri, on the other hand, had his mind filled with a thousand thoughts as he cannot contain himself from everything that happened. If it wasn't his fault, then why?

Why would they do this to him?

Looking at the blond staring at the blank space unconsciously, Yuuri suddenly reflected himself on him. He thought Yuri was too thick to read—he was clearly wrong. On the situation in front of him, he can see what feels right now as if he was transparent—like glass. Fragile. Just like him. "Yurio, what happened?"

His green eyes suddenly sparkled in misery. He cannot even believe—everything was dissolved into a whirlpool of tears; and the foundation of trust was suddenly crushed by betrayal like a building. Clenching his fists, he tried not to cry again. "He betrayed me."

"Who?"

"Beka." Yuuri swore he could feel the bitterness in his voice. "Beka?"

With a sharp pain stabbing within him, he nodded slowly. "I can't….I…I…."

"There, there," Yuuri patted his back as stood up. His voice was calm as he tried to reassure. "Cry all you want, Yurio. Lose it all."

Nodding, he sighed. For every memory they've created together, all he gets is a 'Thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great. She tastes like you but even sweeter'? Everyday he always thinks that he wasn't even created by God—it felt like he was the devil's spawn, an atrocity of mankind. Everyone seemed to abandon him—his grandfather whom he cherished so much, his parents who abandoned him at a young, tender age, then to the love that made him blind.

It felt like the world turned his back on him.

Little by little, Yuratchka's eyes slowly closed its blind to the cruel world while having his head on Yuuri's lap.

Seeing him asleep, Yuuri sighed. A figure suddenly came into the living room, making him turn his head. It was Viktor Nikiforov-Katsuki, a five-time gold Grand Prix medalist at the same time his drama queen husband, holding a mug in hand. The surprised look in his face made Yuuri give a sad smile as he played with the blond strands of the sleeping beauty. "Ah, he arrived a while ago."

Viktor seamed his lips together as he nodded and sat down on the couch while Yuuri shifted. Viktor's blue eyes continued gazing the blond sleeping on his husband's lap while sipping coffee—more like scanning, Yuuri giggled secretly as he looked at him. The frown on Viktor's face as he placed the mug on the table suddenly changed into a smirk, making Yuuri confused. "I knew this would happen—that Otabek is cheating with Mila."

"What do you mean?"

"I suddenly noticed Otabek was looking Mila all the time," the smirk in face never seemed to disappear even when he spoke, with his native accent mixing in his voice. "Err… that was when we were on St. Petersburg to get my belongings to here."

"I actually thought that Otabek was just searching for Mila so that he could ask advice since Mila knew about Yuri more than him." He said, with his tone hinting disbelief. His hand never seems to let go and cease playing the strands of Yuri's hair—it was soft.

"But who would go around like that and ignore his boyfriend all the time?"

"Then why didn't you tell him?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I had my doubts, of course."

"I see…" Yuuri's eyes slowly went down to the person sleeping peacefully in his lap, making him gaze at him with such a sorry look he never thought he could.

Ah, Yuri. So young, so innocent.


The sloppy lick of Makkachin awoke Yuri from his pitiful pain-filled slumber, and rubbed his eyes that were exhausted from crying as he walked into the kitchen where he can hear deep-voiced giggling. To his surprise, the two were in such disastrous mess—like kids splashing water but in a white powdered sense. They were busy smearing flour in their faces, which dirtied their clothes and the poor wooden floor that needed some harsh cleaning later on. There were measly pieces of white dough in their hairs, indicating that these two men are kneading something. But somehow, he do not wish to interfere their sweet affection for it somehow made realise this own silly thing about love.

These two awfully sweet dorks somehow showed him what it means to find the one—you know, the cliché name of someone you're willing to spend the rest of your life with despite obstacles and other romantic shit. That remarkable one— who'd laugh and enjoy every moment with you, who'd make every split precious to you as if it was a hidden treasure, who'd stay by your side until you both hear your bones cracking, and who'd love you for who you are—everything because that 'the one' is in love with you and so are you. If it can change a person entirely and drastically—then love's a spell. But every spell had a side effect—he became a victim of one.

But he thought it about—love is just a spell, then he'll be happy that it did become effective on them instead of him. A few seconds later, he scoffed. He just remembered stopping them from kissing for he shed a tear of joy on their wedding.

Seeing that this sight in front of him was a total sore to the eye, he growled. "Oy Vitya! Katsudon!"

The two men stopped and snapped their heads to the door, with huge grins on their faces. Without doubt, he went near and hugged them, ignoring the fact that the flour can dirty his shirt. They were both speechless while Yuri gave a smile. Then maybe being with these disgusting idiots is better after all.

"From now on, I'll consider you as my parents."


"When are we getting the adoption papers?!" The excited squeal from Viktor made Yuri almost regret saying those words to them. He gave a disapproving look. "Adaption papers? Nah, I'll pass."

Viktor pouted his lips. "But you won't inherit the magic of this family!"

He rolled his eyes. "Magic of this family? More like gayness."

A few clicks from chopsticks and munching followed as Yuuri cooked the usual katsudon, then grave silence followed as he cleared his throat. "Don't freak out, Yuri."

He gave him a bored look while holding his chopsticks in an awkward position—it was like he was ready to throw those two thin wooden sticks at him. "What would I be freaking about?"

Silence followed. "You're going to have siblings."

He almost choked in his food. Siblings? What do you mean siblings? Yuri said as he looked into Yuuri's face, then to Viktor, who had the word excitement obviously written across his face. Then he then turned to Yuuri. How can this man say those words in a straight face like a mother deciding to disown his son? "What do you mean siblings? How can you create babies out of a dick and an ass? Mpreg my ass."

"I'm serious, Yuri." He gulped. He was actually dead serious. But how?

"Surrogation and heteropaternal superfecundation." It was Viktor's to speak. Yuri was suddenly surprised on how Viktor became dead serious, but suddenly his face glowed as he continued; "A Japanese fan of ours donated her egg for us!"

"And now the twins are going to be born in two months." Yuuri added, still keeping the stoic look despite the blush appearing was so clear to everyone. The blond's green eyes widened as he couldn't believe on what he heard. Twins. The two are going to have a pair of children and they were really serious about it. "Are you serious about it?"

Yuuri cocked his eyebrow at him. "Yeah, why?"

"Aren't you supposed to prepare things for them?"

"Yeah, we are really prepared you know," Viktor said while eating, gaining a smack on the head from Yuuri. "We already have a room for them and I'm so excited to see them!"

Yuri became speechless as he looked at them. They were really serious about retiring and creating a family.


Helsinki was silent.

"Ana." She called out. A youth with platinum hair looked up as she was untying her white skating blades, and a wondering look was on her face. Then she spoke in a language that was far more different than the country she was at, but with the Finnish accent rolling in. "Ano po yon, äiti?"

She sighed as she stared at her, standing near a television with its remote at hand. Her Finnish accent had a bit of Russian despite they never set foot on Russia—but she knew why. Judging at the stoic face of the woman, the youth hurried and placed them beside her. She was plain curious—what is she going to show her? A new skating technique? A award-winning routine? Many things were running into her mind as she anticipated and waited as the woman turned the television on.

Far from her expectations, the video on the screen wasn't what she expected to be—it was a marriage proposal at the middle of the rink. Knowing the people surrounding them, she sure knew that it was in a middle of an award ceremony of a certain skating competition as she also saw medals hung around the neck. It wasn't a normal proposal—there were two men; one stood with a gold medal in his neck with a shocked face while the other one was kneeling with a silver medal and a box containing a gold ring. Puzzled, she turned to her, who was also watching the video.

But her eyes widened as she realised that the one who was kneeling had the same hair color like her—it wasn't just a marriage proposal on a rink, it was also the day she proved herself worthy in figure skating.

"Isn't this the Grand Prix 2018? The one where I had my senior debut?"

She nodded. But the youth's eyebrows furrowed as everything was staring to get confused. "But why are we watching Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov's engagement?"

The woman took a few moments of being silent by turning to the screen again before she looked into her eyes, digging a guess on what her reaction would be. She sighed again. "Because I wanted you to know one thing."

"What thing?"

"That Viktor is your very own father."