The gate on the rink slammed shut with enough force to make Yuri jump. He quickly turned it into an impromptu spin to cover for his nervousness. Pulling out of the spin, he looked around to see the cause of the commotion. Yuuri was speeding around the ice with dreadful force, lips pulled tight, eyes cold. Yuri's eyes automatically flicked over to the side of the rink and found Victor, wearing an equally grim expression, the only difference being the fire in his eyes rather than the cold fury that was reflected in his partner's. Yuri groaned loudly. He should have suspected that Katsudon was upset over a fight. He tilted his head to the side as a thought struck him. It was, however, surprising that Victor was also mad. Usually when they had a lovers' fight, Victor was all puppy dog eyes and sweet apologies, most often in the form of extravagant flower bouquets. This time, however, he looked just as angry as his fiancé.

Yuri glared in Victor's general direction. What the hell had that crazy old man done? This was going to be a pain in the ass.

He glided over the ice towards Yuuri. He'd have to get this straightened out between the two of them, or he'd never be able to practice. Plus, it was katsudon night at their apartment, and Yuri didn't want them to ruin their weekly tradition over something as petty as…well, whatever Victor had done.

With a decisive shush of his blades, Yuri slid to a halt in front of Yuuri, far enough away that the Japanese man could stop in time, but not far enough that he could detour around the teen. Yuuri's expression melted when he looked at Yuri, but the cold steel of his eyes remained despite his softened features.

"Yuri, what is it?" the older man asked, almost wearily. "I'm in the middle of warm up."

"Tch. I can see that. Believe me, I'd love to leave you alone, but don't you think you're making practice a bit uncomfortable for everyone?"

Yuuri's gaze flickered a bit. "Ah, am I? Sorry about that, I'll try to keep it toned down a bit." He ducked his head in a slight bow.

Yuri rolled his eyes again. These stupid Japanese formalities. "Yeah, that's great, Katsudon, but what I really want to know is what's going on with you? What did Victor do this time, anyway?"

An iron curtain fell behind Yuuri's eyes, and his face contorted into something akin to a sneer. "I don't know, I'm certainly not smart enough to know what's going on. Why don't you try asking Mr. Five-Time-Gold-Medalist over there? I'm sure he would know much better than me on anything to do about skating." Yuuri's voice rose as he delivered the last part of his speech, and he looked directly at the Russian skater standing a short distance away from where they had halted on the ice.

A strangled noise came from the man, and Yuri turned his body just in time to see Victor throw back an equally disgusted look at the Japanese skater. "Yeah, whatever. Just get your ass in gear and show us the skating of Japan's top performer. I'm sure you can do that."

Yuuri snapped back, "I can, but it's obviously only because you're here. Everyone knows that I'm only any good because you're coaching me, isn't that right?" Not waiting for a reply, Yuuri skated smoothly around the dumbfounded Yuri, and began the step sequence for his short program.

Yuri stared after him for a half second before he realized that his mouth was dangling open. He snapped it shut, tried to arrange his face into a look of disdain, and casually glided over to the silver-haired man leaning on the railing, carefully watching the Japanese skater, face still etched with anger.

"What the hell was that, old man?"

Victor flicked his eyes to Yuri, and visibly forced a smile onto his face. "What was what, Yurio?"

He let the nickname slide, and pursued his questioning. "You know exactly what I mean. What the hell is going on with you and Katsudon?"

Victor's attempt at a pleasant face fell off, and he turned back to watching his student. "We're having a fight, that's all. It's nothing that concerns you."

"Yeah, I gathered that. What did you do?"

A snort came from the coach. "Me? I've never done anything worth note. Not like Japan's national treasure over there."

Yuri glared. "What the hell, Victor! Are you going to tell me or not?"

Ice blue eyes finally came to rest on him. "Yurio, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you're worried about us!" A slight smile crept its way into Victor's hard expression.

"Th-that's not true!" Yuri sputtered. "I-I just want to make sure that this isn't going to ruin katsudon night."

His face relaxing a bit more, Victor smiled fondly and replied, "No, Yurio, come over at the usual time. We'll be all ready to go for dinner."

Yuri nodded curtly and turned around to resume his practice. Victor called after him, "It's sweet of you to worry, though! Such a nice boy!" He ground his teeth, but chose not to respond as he worked his way around the rink's edge.

The rest of practice was tense, to say the least. Victor and Yuuri only spoke in short clips, always interspersed with veiled insults that threaded their way through the training. Things only got worse when it came time for Victor to take the ice and practice his own routine. This brought him closer to Yuuri, allowing for more snapped instructions.

This behavior was so out of character for them that it left Yuri at a loss. When Yakov finally gave them a break for lunch, he plopped down onto a bench, exasperated at the world. He whipped out his phone, and began a text an essay to Otabek, complaining about the whole situation. He was so engrossed that he didn't notice Mila as she took a seat next to him and quietly began eating her lunch as she read over his shoulder.

When he finally hit send, Mila giggled a bit. "So, trouble in paradise for our favorite skating couple, huh?"

Yuri whipped his head to the side, then immediately became angry at himself for his childish surprise. To cover for his embarrassment, he snapped back at the girl, "What the hell are you talking about?"

She took a bite out of her sandwich. "Victor and Yuuri, of course. You said to Otabek that they've been mean to each other all morning."

His eyes widened. "Don't read my texts to Beka! Those are private!"

She raised her eyebrows and asked with a smile in her voice, "Ohh, just the ones to Otabek are private? Exactly what are you and Mr. Altin talking about that your dear friend Mila can't see, hmm?"

Yuri blushed furiously. "That's none of your business!" he snapped loudly. He realized that she had rather artfully turned the conversation towards an embarrassing subject, and forcefully corrected its course himself. "Anyway, I was just telling Beka about how those two ruined my whole morning skate session. Didn't you notice them bickering? It's hard to focus on practice with those two like that."

Mila propped her chin on her hand. "I guess I noticed, but I don't pay as much attention to them as you do." As Yuri made a garbled noise of protest, she continued, "Did they mention why they're fighting?"

Yuri glared down at his lunch as he replied, "I have no fucking idea. They're both idiots, isn't that enough reason? And to make it worse, they're fighting on katsudon day. I'm not going to be able to have dinner in peace with them like this!" Sudden inspiration struck him, and he turned to Mila with a grin that would make the Cheshire cat jealous. "Say, Mila, what are you doing for dinner tonight?"

She eyed him suspiciously. "Not much, why?"

"Perfect! Then, Mila, you're coming to their apartment with me tonight!"

Mila appeared to chew this over the same way she was chewing her lunch. "Hmm, coming for dinner? Who's cooking?"

Yuri rolled his eyes. "Katsudon is, of course. It's a Japanese dish."

Mila's face lit up. "Oh, yeah? Well, in that case, count me in! Free, decent food, that sounds great!"

Yuri heaved an inward sigh of relief. Good. Now he could at least use the girl as a buffer for the uncomfortable situation between the other two skaters. Satisfied with his plan, he tucked into his lunch in earnest, determined not to spend a second longer on the uncomfortable ice rink than he had to.

By the time Yuri stepped into the locker room at the end of the day, he was physically and mentally exhausted. He wasn't sure he could take much more of this. After changing and grabbing his bag, Yuri headed back out to let Yakov know he was heading home for the day. With some relief, he noted Victor and Yuuri standing in the middle of the ice, heads bowed together, conferring closely over something. He breathed a sigh of relief. Good. It looked like they had made up. Now they could have a nice dinner together, like usual. He briefly considered uninviting Mila now that it appeared her presence would no longer be needed, but decided against it. She would be a handy buffer for their disgusting lovey-dovey make-up talk.

And so, a few hours later, he stood at the door to their apartment with Mila next to him, and rang the doorbell. Barking sounded from inside, accompanied by the skittering of claws on wooden floors. Shuffling footsteps approached, lock mechanisms clicked, and the door swung open to reveal Yuuri wearing a black apron and holding back an excited Makkachin. He smiled at his guests. "Oh, Mila, it's nice to see you! Yuri, you didn't tell us we'd have another guest tonight."

Mila smiled winningly. "Thanks for having me, Yuuri. I hope that I'm not being too troublesome."

Yuuri hastily reassured her, "Oh, no, not at all! I always make extra, you're more than welcome! Come on in, both of you!" He turned his head, and his expression changed to stone as he called out in a flat voice, "Victor, can you come get your dog so I can finish cooking?"

Victor appeared from the hallway, replying in a sickly sweet voice as he complied with his fiancé's request, "Of course I can, Yuuri dear, but probably not nearly as well as you."

The look the Russian man received made Yuri shiver. As Yuri and Mila stepped through the door, Yuuri spun around on his heel and returned to the kitchen without a second look back. Victor smiled apologetically at his guests. "Sorry about that. Food will be ready in a couple minutes. Can I get you two something to drink? Something without alcohol?" he added as Yuri opened his mouth to request vodka.

As Yuri scowled at Victor's foresight, Mila smiled sunnily and requested, "Since we're having katsudon, do you have any sake?"

Victor narrowed his eyes at her. "Young lady, I believe I just said no alcohol."

She smiled prettily. "Yes, but I'm not underage."

Victor tsked in reply. "That's nice, but in this house, the legal drinking age is 20." As Mila scowled, he continued, "So, let's try again. What can I get you two to drink?"

Mila sighed. "Well, since you're being stingy, I guess I'll just have a soda." Yuri nodded to indicate the same.

Victor smiled at them both. "Two sodas coming up. Why don't you have a seat at the table?" He gestured towards the dining room table. "I'll go grab another place setting and see if Mr. Perfect needs help."

Yuri rolled his eyes at Mila as they went to sit down and their host disappeared into the kitchen. "I thought they were done with this bullshit," he murmured as he plopped into his chair.

Mila arranged herself next to him. "Why would you think that? They were still pretty upset after you left."

He groaned. "I wish I had known that. They looked pretty comfortable when I was leaving, so I thought I'd just be able to relax tonight. I'm so glad I dragged you along to share in the misery."

She laughed at him. "Wow, that's so sweet, Yurio. Thanks."

He cracked a small smile in return, just as Yuuri and Victor emerged bearing food and the promised drinks. Yuuri smiled softly at Yuri and asked, "What's so funny?"

Yuri sighed. "I was just telling Mila I'm glad she came with me. Now she can share in the suffering I have to endure with you two fighting each other all night."

Yuuri stiffened, and Victor glared protectively, but still apologized, "I'm sorry that I'm making you uncomfortable."

Yuri snorted. "It's both of you, genius. You've been making things tense for everyone all day."

Victor smiled thinly. "That's nice of you to say, but I'm sure I was much worse. It's much more likely that I was unbearable than Mr. National Champion over here." He and Yuuri settled into their spots next to each other, sharing a glare rather than their usual love struck look.

Yuri slammed his palms on the table. "Ok, this is getting out of hand. Old man, what the hell did you do? Obviously we need to get you to apologize, or nobody will be able to eat in peace." He violently stabbed at the dish that Yuuri had placed in front of him, shoving it into his mouth and glaring challengingly at the older man. Mila began chewing on her dinner, eyes bright as she watched the unfolding drama.

Victor's face grew veiled. "I have done nothing, Yurio. I'm simply trying to correct an error in my dear fiancé's thinking."

Yuuri's chopsticks clattered as he dropped them in indignation and stabbed his finger at Victor. "I'm not the one who isn't thinking right, that's you!"

Victor's eyes flashed fire as he snapped back, "As if! Yuuri, you have got to be kidding me! There is no way that you can think you're not amazing!"

The Japanese man spat back, "Not nearly as amazing as you! Victor, you've won so many gold medals that we can't even display them all! You're world famous!"

Victor's voice rose. "So are you!"

Yuri gaped at them as Yuuri shot back, "I'm only famous because of you! Everything that I have accomplished in my life has been because of you, your coaching, and your love! So, really, all my achievements that you're trying to point to should really count towards how great you are!"

Victor shouted in reply, "That's not true, and you know it! You were well-established as an accomplished skater long before I was drawn in by your beauty and talent!"

Mila was snickering now, snapping Yuri out of his stupor. "Wait! Wait just a damn minute!" The two older men turned their gazes onto him as he yelled, "Was this what you two were fighting about all day? Over which one of you is better?"

Yuuri opened his mouth to reply, but Victor beat him to it. "Well, yeah! There was this news article this morning that ranked our achievements, and Yuuri showed it to me and said how amazing it was that I had accomplished so much, and that what he had done looked pathetic in comparison!" He scowled fiercely. "I couldn't let him get away with that! Everyone knows that Yuuri is the best one in this relationship! Hell, maybe in the whole world!"

At this, Yuuri slapped his hands onto the table and stood up abruptly, his chair shooting out behind him as Makkachin whined uneasily at the tension in the room. "Victor, that is complete and utter bullshit!" he yelled. Yuri's jaw dropped open. He didn't think he'd ever heard the Japanese man swear before. Yuuri barreled on, "Did you even read the article? It summarized pretty much every argument I would make to show how fantastic you are as a skater. And that's not even starting on you as a person! I'm lucky that you even give me the time of day, with how wonderful you are! How can you possibly sit there with a straight face and try to tell me that I'm better than you?"

This time it was Victor's turn to shoot out of his seat. "I think that I can tell you that because it's true! Yuuri, you're pretty much just the best person in the world! You're so kind, and loving, and gentle, and sweet, and…shit, Yuuri! I'm your fiancé and your coach, so I know better than some half-assed article just how incredible you truly are!"

Yuuri leaned his face close to Victor's and hissed, "Yeah? Well, I've been watching you for more than a decade, so I'm pretty sure I have a better idea than some crummy article about how stunning you are! Why can't you just admit it already?"

Victor narrowed his eyes and seethed back, "Because there's nothing for me to admit when you're the more amazing one."

Mila was now in stitches, and released an inadvertent snort of laughter. The other three turned to stare at her, and Yuri unglued his jaw from the floor long enough to snap, "What's wrong with you, Baba?"

She wheezed, "This whole thing is just so funny. I can't believe that this whole day, they're been making everyone at the rink uncomfortable and have been genuinely furious with each other because they both think the other person is more amazing." Another snort. "I just wish I had been recording this to put online."

Yuuri and Victor had the grace to look a little ashamed. Yuuri sat down slowly, and looked up at his fiancé with a sheepish smile. "She's right, Victor. I guess this is a kind of silly thing to be so mad at each other for." He reached out at gently tugged at the silver-haired man's sleeve, and Victor allowed himself to be guided back into his chair.

He smiled fondly. "Yes, my love, I suppose you're right. As usual. Since, you know, you're so wonderful."

The corner of Yuuri's mouth flickered downwards, and Yuri quickly cut in, "Ok, so I think, for the sake of everyone involved, that we should just agree that you're both equally amazing, and leave it at that. Sound good?"

The two men eyed each other, and Yuuri slowly nodded. "I suppose I can live with that, as long as Victor realizes how great he is." He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

The silver-haired man returned the unspoken question with his best podium smile. "Of course, luybov moya, as long as you keep in mind that I still know you're the greatest." The two smiled thinly at each other.

Yuri quickly clapped his hands together. "Well, that's all settled. Now, let's just eat in peace!" He shoveled in a generous mouthful of his katsudon, feeling a bit smug about his peacemaking skills.

Unfortunately for him, however, his place at the table was close enough to the couple that he heard rather clearly when Yuuri leaned over and whispered to Victor in a low voice, "Don't think this is over, Vitya. I'm going to prove my point to you later in the bedroom."

Yuri choked on his food as Victor smiled back alluringly. "Bring it on, Mr. Perfect."

Maybe Yuri's peacemaking skills weren't so great after all.