The Draft


NINTH SKATE

Baka-ga! Hang in-


This wasn't how I was expecting today to turn out.

When my editor told me to get on a plane to Tokyo, to interview Victor Nikiforov regarding his retirement plans, I was told that Victor had insisted that his partner, Yuri Katsuki, be there too. Katsuki is well known for being an awkward interviewee, and rarely does his own press; Victor more often spoke for him or statements were issued that sounded like the workings of seven year olds... So I'm surprised that Yuri has stayed with us the whole day, other than after dinner, and... well, I hardly blame him.

And I'm surprised that, at the end of the day, he's the one still talking, and Victor is sitting in complete silence.

"Is he okay?" I ask in a whisper.

Yuri nods. He looks back more solemnly. At the door he bows his head respectfully, and then quietly shuts the door, leaving Victor sitting before a shrine with photos of his beloved poodle, Makkachin. He gestures for me to follow.

When did Makkachin pass away?

Yuri stops ahead of me on the stairs and looks sadly down at me. "Just after the New Year. Victor had won the Grand Prix Final, turned thirty... Makkachin was pretty old; he'd been with him since Victor was in the Juniors. He... he misses him still. We both do... he used to snuggle up with us in bed; we never needed hot water bottles in the winter, and it was too hot in the summer, but... I loved him too. He reminded me of my dog, Vicchan, from when I was a child. He was a smart boy... well, except that time with the manjuu."

Less than an hour after Yuri's Personal Best score in the Short Program at the Rostelecom Cup, Yuri received a call from his sister, Mari, with bad news. Makkachin, who Victor had left with the Katsuki family, stole and choked on some manjuu, a Japanese sticky bun. Backstage in Moscow, Yuri insisted Victor return to Hasetsu to look after him. Makkachin pulled through, and was there to greet Yuri off the plane when he finally returned home.

Victor's absence in Moscow led to a mixed performance at the Free Skate. His score was just good enough to slip him through into the Barcelona Final, but, of all the Free Skates at Rostelecom that year, it was the one that had everyone's attention. Even his falls told their own story within the narrative of Yuri On Ice, which is inspired by his career as a figure skater. It has to be remembered that, under intense pressure, Yuri was always prone to flubbing. The fact that, of the total twelve jumps he attempted he only messed up four, and stayed on his feet for all of them, is a testament to how far he had come under Victor's coaching. Indeed, the power of the love that Yuri spoke of at his theme presentation.

Mila Babicheva was overheard putting it best: it's too bad. When you think of how it could've been with Victor here, you really want to see that, right?

Thus, it is now described as the promise of what was to come.

Just as we approach the door to his old bedroom, I see a nervous shiver go through Yuri, and he asks for me to wait a moment. Then he sprints to the door, slams it shut behind him, and after a minute comes out looking awkward, his arms full of paperwork on top of his MacBook.

"Heh-heh, sorry, I... we kind of use it as my... well, I guess my office."

I try to peek at the papers, and spy the edges of doodles - rough stickmen in different positions - I guess the steps of a choreography for someone.

"Hai... Yurio's coming again next week -" Really?! "- Oh. Shimatta. I wasn't meant to... never mind." He quickly dumps his things in the room next door, and lets me in to where I'll be sleeping tonight.

This is where Yuri Katsuki grew up, I wonder to myself. The room's economical, with a single bed under the window and a desk and chair opposite, with built-in wardrobes and storage. My wheelie suitcase is sat next to the head of the bed, closest to the door. I take a guess, from the spartan absences, that he's ripped down the brainstorms from the walls, and I can tell where his laptop sat from the groves left behind. There's a framed photo of Victor, Yuri and Makkachin next to the space on the desk, taken on a bridge in St Petersburg. Intriguingly the photo isn't a selfie, and the more I peer at it, the more I think that they must have really liked the photographer; they're smiling right at me, happy in the moment. Yuri is holding Makkachin, the dog licking his face, upsetting his glasses, making him laugh as Victor hugs both of them.

"Yurio took that for us, my first day in St Petersburg," Yuri tells me contentedly. "I moved there with Victor for the winter after I won gold at the Japanese Nationals to train for the Four Continents, alongside Yurio with Yakov." He then mutters something I don't understand, and it takes a moment to realise he's speaking in uneasy Russian. He smiles and translates: "I'd forgotten how intense it was, training with Yurio." I don't think that's how he put it in Russian, but I certainly wouldn't be able to tell what he did say.

In any case, I smile back, as I can only imagine. The ice tiger of Russia has permanently resting bitch face... Yuri laughs at the description.

"I guess so." He smiles. "It'll ruin his reputation, but... ever since the Rostelecom Cup, I always think of him smiling."

... Smiling?! My face must say it all, because Yuri chuckles at me. Plisetski... smiling...? "He gave me his grandpa's katsudon-pirozhkis for my birthday and took me to his house in Moscow to meet him. Yurio smiles at home."

I... I can't... I have no idea what that looks like...

Yuri sits down on the bed and gazes contemplatively at the walls. I sit on the desk chair, and wait for him to say what's on his mind. When he does speak, his eyes still on the empty walls, I sense that he's chosen to say something else. "He started to cheer me on, during my Free Program. I... I was struggling, and then I heard his voice." Yuri chuckles again. "It made me think that he was an idiot for trying so hard!"

A strange thing to say, given that Plisetski scored a deserved personal best for his Appassionato at Moscow, pushing the majority of his jumps into the second half for the 1.1 bonus. He hit the floor when it was over, exhausted, but the performance was spectacular. JJ Leroy's FP beat him by less than a single point to retain the gold.

"It made me refocus," Yuri explains. "I've always had better stamina, so I knew I could make it to the end." He then pulls a face. "It was still tough though, was going to be tough even if Victor had been there... I was a bit out of it after."

So I've heard. Apparently he hugged, or tried to hug, everyone he came across backstage, and then disappeared entirely. Neither he nor Plisetski attended the post-event banquet, missing Leroy congratulating himself on his second gold medal in the GP series, and the Crispino twins bickering. Well, now I know where they went.

Heavy snowfall meant severe delays at Sheremetyevo; Yuri didn't get back to Fukuoka for an extra day, having missed his connection. A fan posted a picture of his reunion at Arrivals with Victor, the two embracing, with Makkachin up on his hind legs pawing at Yuri. A sweet moment.

Again, I sense Yuri holds back, smiling at his own thoughts privately. I begin to appreciate the effect that Victor has on him.

"That's when he proposed for the first time."

We both look up at the door. Victor winks at me and then steps inside, takes Yuri's outstretched hand and sits next to him on the bed, fitting into Yuri's side, nesting his head in the crook of Yuri's neck. Yuri presses a kiss into Victor's hair, who melts tiredly into him. It's an awkward fit; the bed is too small and Victor is the taller, but it's where he wants to be and Yuri doesn't seem to notice or mind. Their fingers are threaded together, someone's ring glinting. I can't tell whose hand it is, which hand it is.

Then I finally clock what he said. Proposed?!


Feel a bit better now. I'm sorry for leaving you.

That's okay. Stop giving him the wrong idea though! It was like a proposal, you said then, not an actual one.

Hmm, but I like remembering it that way!

Hai, hai...

It kind of was anyway though. Please be my coach until I retire, you said.

... I wish you'd never retire, you said.

... Still do.

Hey, you can't talk any more, you've retired too.

I know. What are we going to do now?

We... we'll figure that out together.

Promise?

Promise.

I'm going to hold you to that, you know!


I've never actually spent a lot of time in Yuri's room. I never needed to.

When I first came to Hasetsu, this door was always shut, or being shut, in my face, Yuri hiding on the other side. I never minded; it's his bedroom, like I didn't understand the need for privacy. I had opened the door only once, to invite - well, not invite, insist really - him to the beach. But I never passed the threshold... until I returned from Russia without him.

Mari-neechan picked me up from the airport, and took me straight to the veterinarian hospital. I got there in time to stroke Makkachin's silly head before they sedated him, and then I waited for his operation to be over. I called him Bakkachin in my head, I was so anxious. If I had lost him then... I felt like the universe would of been trying to tell me something. It felt like I was being tested... and punished. Punished for having the ambitions I had for Yuri, punished for letting people down by picking him over their expectations. But the idea of it made me scoff; I damn well wasn't going to lose either of them. Makkachin was going to be fine, and so would Yuri, and he'd come home to me soon and we'd prepare for Barcelona together.

Then Makkachin's operation was successful and he was sleeping, to be kept in to check he was going to be okay. He wasn't a young dog anymore by then, even if he forgot that himself, running off after Yuri all the time. Mari took me home - I even thought of it as home then, and I realised... with the time zones, I stood a chance of catching Yuri's Free Skate. I called the Nishigoris', apologised profusely for waking them, though they were up anyway, and got a website address from the triplets...

Oh Yuri... I was so proud of you.

I wish we had competed together before Sochi, at one of the earlier stages. By then I had already heard about you, was eager to see you perform; everyone said your spins and steps were out of this world, that you were a contender to surpass me... if you could only sort out your jumps. I saw you before you went on... in a world of your own, so visibly nervous that I even asked Chris whether he thought you were alright. At one point I was certain you were going to be sick, right before you went on.

I hated watching your Rostelecom Cup performance on my laptop. Not because of your skating - I watched it again and again - but I hated having to watch through a camera. After months of seeing you skate right in front of me, for me... it made me feel sick too. I couldn't cheer you on, I couldn't be there at the kiss and cry, not even there for you to stretch out towards at the end. I had been so wrapped up in getting to Hasetsu for Makkachin we never figured out a way of making that happen, with all the technology we have at our disposal. When we switched, and you couldn't be there for me in Paris, we had Phichit who could get you to the edge of the ice through his phone.

You got through though. You stumbled because you'd lost yourself there a bit, didn't you? But you were also able to pull yourself together. You didn't crash out. It was still beautiful. I always said your presentation scores would get you through. They all were right; maybe I'm biased, but I envy how you can skate. When you trained me for the Grand Prix series... I had to work hard to keep up with the pace you set me.

I miss your skating so much. I... I was so angry when you fell. I hated that I was angry, even as my heart was breaking for you. I... I was so scared I'd lose you...

[I didn't hit my head, Victor, it wasn't that bad -

You know what I mean.

... Hai... I do know. I was scared I was going to lose you too. You couldn't coach me anymore, there wasn't a reason for you to stay with me. I... I'm so glad that you did... The two best things in my life... I... because of you, I don't miss skating as much.

... Me too.]

I crossed the threshold.

I needed to see his room, his space, feel like he was with me, like any moment now he'd come and freak out that I was there. It felt wrong the second I stepped in. There is no replicating how Yuri makes me feel when he's right there with me, never has been.

Since we had returned from Beijing he hadn't slept in there. Our first night back he crept into my bed after he was sure that everyone else was asleep, although it was awkward; Makkachin was there in the bed, and the walls were thin, his parents snoring on the other side of the house, the faint sound of J-Pop through Mari's headphones on full blast. So we had to be careful, and we kicked Makkachin out so he could sleep in Yuri's bed instead. Makkachin didn't seem to mind; I think he'd gotten used to that. I could tell by the hairs, the messy patterns left on the duvet. Silly boy... he got confused when I brought him home and cuddled with him again, waiting for Yuri to get out of snowed-in Moscow.

I know now that by the time I got my Yuri back, he had already begun to think some very silly things about the future without asking me first. I wouldn't find that out until Barcelona, but then... when he ran into my arms, when he held me and asked me to be his coach until he retired, it... it was a proposal, damn it. He was asking me to stay in his life for the indefinite future, or so I thought. By then, having felt at home in his home, feeling like he belonged more in my bed than in his own, feeling like he belonged in my arms, like I belonged in his... I would have said yes.

I have said yes.


We have a list. We haven't discussed it seriously, at all, but... we had to think about it.

Argentina. Australia. Belgium. Brazil. Canada. Colombia. Denmark. Finland. France. Germany. Iceland. Ireland. Luxembourg. Malta. Mexico. The Netherlands. New Zealand. Norway. Portugal. South Africa. Spain. Sweden. The UK. The US. Uruguay.

The world is changing. It won't be long before this list is out of date. Maybe one day Japan and Russia will appear on it. Then... maybe...

Yes, too.


To be continued...