Sara meets Mila Babicheva, and thinks that maybe they could be beautiful.
Sara is a lot of things. There are probably a thousand different words she could be described with, but strong is not one of them. Sara knows she's not strong. And she's okay with it. She's used to being protected by Mickey and Emil, used to being protected. What's new to her is wanting to be strong, to protect someone. Because Sara has always seen strong as a sort of brute force. It doesn't suit her. But when she looks at Mila, it strikes her that there's more than just one type of strong in the world. Because Mila has tears in her blue eyes, petals in her throat, and sadness in the way she moves her body. And yet- she's smiling. Mila Babicheva is smiling. Maybe it's the saddest smile Sara's ever seen, but the fact that Mila's even trying to pretend she's okay when she has more right than anybody else to break down is a special kind of strong. Sara wants to be strong like that, for this beautiful skater who deserves so much more than this from the world, for this beautiful skater who deserves to live.
So even though all she wants to do is cry and cry and cry when she finds out Mila has Hanahaki, Sara doesn't. Even though she feels as if she's been punched in the gut - Hanahaki, not Mila, please not Mila, not her, she doesn't deserve this - and just wants to curl up and wake up in a world where her best friend isn't dying, she doesn't. If Mila - who is dying - can hold herself together for Sara's sake, then Sara can do it for Mila. So all she does is swallow hard and wrap Mila up in her arms. The Russian skater whispers "I'll tell you everything. Just not now." in a voice so quiet Sara has to strain to hear. So all she gives a sad smile of her own, pulls the younger skater even closer, and closes her eyes.
Sara doesn't know how long they spend up there, surrounded by city lights and the night breeze. It could've been five minutes or five hours (it doesn't matter; she could spend five thousand years up there with Mila and it still wouldn't be enough). What she does know is that Yakov is the one to find them. "Mila," he hisses, "you have a reputation to uphold and you can't do that by sneaking awa-" Sara isn't sure what (maybe the way they're wrapped up in each other, or the way their makeup is smudged, or maybe even the single petal on the floor), but something makes Mila's coach stop and assess the situation. He mutters some words in Russian and Mila untangles herself from the pile of limbs they've become to respond in kind. He turns away and says in English, "Don't take too long," as he stalks away. Sara pretends not to hear the crack in his voice.
Eventually, Sara finds the energy to pull Mila up. "Come on, we should probably get back inside." Mila follows her obediently, fingers laced with Sara's. They slip past the room the banquet is in, and directly to where the actual hotel rooms are. Sara's just about to push the button for the other skater's floor when she hears Mila ask, "Can I stay with you tonight? It can be like a discount slumber party." Sara laughs and says, "Sure." She leads Mila to her room and tries not to look too upset when she hears Mila cough.
The pair settle themselves on the bed, and after an impromptu pillow fight, spend time catching up on everything except the Hanahaki, until finally the redhead sighs and says, "I think I'm ready to talk about it now." A mixture of sadness and apprehension fills Sara up to the very brim, even as she does her best to smile encouragingly. "I won't interrupt," she promises. Mila smiles (she looks so very beautiful when she smiles, Sara wishes she'd do it more) and takes a deep breath before beginning.
"I learned I had Hanahaki just four months ago. My doctor heard something strange in my breathing, and when she took a closer look she found out that it was Hanahaki. Georgi mentioned it once, when I had flower petals on my covers with no idea of how they'd gotten there but I didn't think he was right. I didn't think I was in love then. But I guess I was, because there were sometimes there'd just be petals lying around. I never noticed I was coughing them up until after the diagnosis though."
Mila keeps her eyes fixed on the yellow walls of the room. Her voice is low, and Sara can't help but wonder how hard it is for her, to force these words out. If just listening to it makes Sara feel as if her heart is being ripped out of her chest, she can't imagine having to tell it. But she doesn't know how to help, so she continues to listen.
"The only person I told was Yakov. I didn't want to do the surgery but I also wanted to skate for as long as I could. I still feel that way, and even though Yakov has adjusted my training to help me with the coughing, I'm not sure how much longer I can skate though. You and him are now the only people that know. I had three years at the most four months ago. I wonder how much longer I'll live." A beat passes before the redhead continues, still speaking in a voice of forced calm. "I'll be okay though. It'll all be okay."
Sara closes her purple eyes and and asks, "Is there anyway to help you?"
Mila tries to respond, but ends up in a coughing fit instead. Sara gets some water for her and rubs her back and tries not to cry. It doesn't work.
(They don't talk about why Mila has the disease. About who she loves. If Mila doesn't want to say anything, Sara is content to leave it alone.)
Sara meets Mila Babicheva, and wonders why the world is so cruel.
"You're leaving."
Sara looks up to meet a pair of eyes exactly the same as her own. She tries to muster a smile. "Yes. Are you going to help me pack or not?" Her brother doesn't budge. He just looks at her, until he finally says, "Russia? Why?" Feeling rather childish, she shoots back, "I don't have to justify all my actions to you, Mickey!" He arches an eyebrow, voice dry as he mutters, "That might have worked if you weren't moving to Russia." Sara sighs and offers an explanation. "I want to try learning in a different environment for a change. Yakov is a good coach and he'll be able to help me." "That's not why," Mickey says. He knows her too well to be deflected. "...because if I don't go now I might not ever get another chance." Sara says, each word heavy on her tongue because she knows how very true they are. Her hands are shaking as she folds another pair of jeans into the suitcase. The older Crispino twin doesn't say anything for a long time. "I'll help you pack," he says, finally. Sara has never felt so grateful for family before.
Mickey sends her off at the airport. He hugs her tight and makes her promise to call often. Even though he's no longer as dependent on her as before, she knows it'll still hurt him to be away from her. The thought makes her hug him tighter. "I love you," she says. "Be safe," he returns. She offers him one last smile before boarding, and hopes she'll see him again soon.
Mila meets her at the airport with a warm coffee and a warmer smile. After collecting her luggage (which takes longer than it should because Sara has somehow forgotten to tag her suitcases), Mila calls a cab. They pile into the backseat and Mila calls Yakov to tell him that Sara's flight was on time while she texts Mickey to let him now she's arrived safely. When she looks up, Mila's blue eyes are on her. Feeling suddenly flustered, Sara hurries to say something before the silence drags for too long. "Thank you. Again. It's really nice of you to let me stay at your place," Sara says. (Even as she talks though, she can't help but wonder if she's taking advantage of Mila. Would Mila do this for anybody else? Or is she only doing it because of her feelings for Sara? The Italian skater doesn't know and it's frustrating). Mila rolls her eyes playfully in response. "Don't be silly, what type of friend would I be if I didn't?" "A good one still," Sara shoots back. The conversation is filled with banter all the way up till they reach Mila's apartment, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
Mila's apartment is cozy. It's a bit small for two people, but Sara knows they can make it work. A kitchen area, a room they can relax in, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. Yes, Sara thinks to herself, this will definitely work. She smiles as she surveys her room, clothes neatly hung up and the few posters she brought already on the wall. It already feels a little like home. Then again, it always feels a little like home when she's with Mila.
Her first day of training as a student under Yakov goes no different than the training sessions she's had before, when she was just visiting Russia instead of living there. He's just as relentless as she remembers ("Again! It's not perfect yet!"). Luckily, he still knows that she has limits and isn't terribly stingy with his breaks. When he finally releases everyone for the day, Victor and Yuuri invite them all to dinner. Yakov says he's busy (Victor and Mila exchange knowing looks and Sara's pretty sure someone whispers, "Oh he'll be busy alright, busy with Lilia.") and Yuri turns a spectacular shade of red as he quietly mutters, "Well I promised Otabek I'd call him tonight, so I don't think I'll go." Mila actually cackles when she hears, and Yuuri ends up playing peace-maker as he tries to keep Yuri from strangling the redhead.
When Victor turns to Sara expectantly, waiting to hear if she'll be able to go, she doesn't know what to say. She wants to spend time with them, to get to know them better, but at the same time, she kind of just wants to relax. Mila steps in then, and says, "She'd love to, but I think Sara might like a quiet night. First day of training you know." Sara shoots a grateful look at her, and Victor nods in understanding. "Of course. Yuuri felt the same way when he first got here," the silver-haired skater says, smiling when he speaks his boyfriend's name. As if summoned by Victor, Yuuri appears at his side and says, "What about you Mila?" "I think I'll stay with Sara," she says simply.
When they're back at the apartment, comfortably squashed next to each other on Mila's couch, Sara feels the need to say something about the dinner. She flips through a book as she thinks, not really taking in any of the information. "Thank you for staying with me. You didn't have to," is what she settles on. Mila gives a smile as she looks up from her own book, and says, "I wanted to. Besides, I'm a little tired. Sorry if I end up falling asleep on you." As it turns out, Mila does end up falling asleep on the couch. Sara finds spare blankets to cover her with in the closet. When she doesn't find any spare pillows, she ends up taking one from Mila's bed so she can prop the sleeping skater's head up. Gazing down at her friend, Sara feels the corners of her mouth turning down when a flower petal ends up on Mila's lips. Leaning down to brush it away, she feels her purple eyes beginning to water when another petal soon replaces it. At least Mila doesn't feel pain during sleep, she thinks to herself. She sets out a glass of water anyways, in case Mila wakes up with a scratchy throat.
Sara meets Mila Babicheva, and hopes for the best.
Sara notices Mila's Hanahaki worsening and tries not to think about what it means. Mila needs frequent breaks during practice now, and whenever Sara goes to check on her, she almost always finds the other skater hunched over, coughing into a napkin. "I think you should tell Georgi and the others about it," Sara says eventually. "They deserve to know." She notices the way Mila fidgets with the hem of her shirt, the flash of fear the appears in her eyes. "Later," says the Russian skater. "Later."
(They don't talk about how there might not be a "later.")
Sara ends up sharing a room with Mila. She makes a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor of Mila's room one day, and goes there instead of her own room when it's time for bed. The redhead arches an eyebrow when she sees the interesting arrangement. "I can keep a better eye on you from here," Sara explains. Mila rolls her blue eyes, and prepares to say that she doesn't need it when she finds herself in a coughing fit. Sara hugs her close and rubs soothing circles on her back as the Russian skater coughs a mixture of red and purple. Blood and violet tulip petals. Sara looks up to see her fear mirrored in Mila's eyes. "I've never coughed up blood before," she murmurs faintly. There are no protests about Sara spending the night in Mila's room anymore.
The next morning, Mila shakes Sara awake. Sara forces open tired eyes, and asks what the matter is. Mila responds by showing her the flower in her hands. It would have been beautiful, Sara thinks, if it wasn't a violet tulip.
(They don't bother going to practice.)