I don't own Yuri! on Ice.
Chapter 14: #DiamondsAreAGirlsBestFrenemy
(Which wasn't in the TV script. But then again, neither was Yuurika.)
Yuri paused and took a swig of the water he had previously stored in his bag for just this event. He looked about at the town, for the last time probably. Well, it hadn't been all bad. He might miss it a bit, not that he would ever admit it to everyone. It would probably be easier once he left it all behind him anyway; he should be almost to the airport, where he could return to the bland sameness of all the terminals he'd ever been in and forget that Hasetsu even existed. He stashed his drink, shifted his duffel and stepped forward on the tranquil street.
Tranquil, that is, except for the commotion that seemed to be incoming from the rear.
"Yuri! Waiiit!"
Yuri glanced back reflexively. His eyes narrowed as he beheld stupid Plain Vanilla, running towards him, arms flailing, covered in her sleek seducer suit with twinkling rhinestones catching the setting sun. So she noticed, even in her moment of triumph? Well, no matter. He didn't owe her an explanation.
"Yuri, I said wait!"
"I won't," he called, not bothering to turn around. "Leave me alone. I'm going back to Russia, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."
"But the airport's in the other direction!"
Yuri stopped.
Yuurika caught up with him finally and rested her hands on her knees, sucking in gulping breaths of sweet sweet oxygen. "And it's way too far to walk. Didn't you take a cab or train when you first came?" she wheezed.
Yuri scowled, remembering. Stupid sidequests. Of course he didn't. "Of course I did," he lied.
"And what about your cat?"
Yuri facepalmed.
"Yuri, why did you leave?"
Seriously, did he have to spell it out for everyone? "You won. Congratulations. You get Viktor as your coach. I don't. So I'm going back to mine now. I've got a prix to win."
"But you won."
Yuri rounded on her, teeth bared in a snarl. "No I didn't. Stop lying. You won."
"Well okay, we both won," Yuurika amended.
"Hah?!"
"Didn't you hear the crowd's cheering? It was split evenly between the two of us."
"Don't even, Plain Vanilla. This was a contest with Viktor's coaching at stake. Viktor's choice is the only one that matters."
Yuurika's breaths finally slowed. She stilled and looked the younger boy straight on. "Yuri, skating is for the world. Everyone's opinion is important."
Yuri regarded her silently.
"Right, Viktor?"
Yuri looked over her shoulder, and just then noticed that Viktor had now joined him. He was breathing hard, but trying not to show it (and mostly successfully too. That jerk had a knack for appearing perpetually well put together, just as Yuurika always somehow seemed like she had just run slapdash out the door. If only they could share their vibes, they would both approach normalcy. Viewed together, they almost balanced out. How typical).
"Uhh…" Viktor stuttered, his thoughts and eyes clearly straying.
Yuurika gave him a gentle but firm reminder. With her elbow in his ribs. Okay, maybe it wasn't gentle.
"Right!" Viktor agreed, emphatically. If he coughed for air afterwards, his present company were polite enough to ignore it.
"So, you'll be staying then," Yuurika didn't ask.
Yuri kicked at a pebble sullenly. "If I do, I'll need a coach."
"Oh, that's alright. I can do anything when it comes to skating. I'll coach both of you, no problem!" Viktor declared with his trademark heart-shaped grin.
"Okay then, I guess," Yuri acquiesced, dredging up all of the angst in his scrawny body in order to cover up his giddy joy.
"Great, now that that's settled, there's only one thing left to do."
"Go home?" Yuri hoped.
"Yeah, but first, let's take a new team selfie! It's what Phichit would do," Yuurika explained.
"Um, Yuuri -"
"Ugh, get away from me! You're all sweaty and gross!"
"We both just finished short programs on the ice and basically ran all the way here. You're just as sweaty and gross as I am."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
There were some curses, and then some spitting, hissing and cheek-pulling.
"You both smell like veritable roses. But more importantly," Viktor interrupted the squab before him to announce, "Yuuri, you might want to take a look around."
Yuurika did.
She then noticed they were standing in the midst of the Hasetsu equivalent of the town square, in a quiet, conservative area, filled at this time of day with the sedate elderly, the housewives with children in tow, and the relatively upper crust returning from their places of business, all out and about enjoying the evening breeze. It normally bustled in a slow, subdued sort of way, no one paying particular attention to another, each person part of some predetermined flow, only stopping briefly to exchange greetings or chat about the weather. There was never really reason for anyone to break the pattern, no congregating or staring, no showmanship or spectacle.
Until today, apparently.
Today, everyone and their mother had dropped even the pretense of detachment from their surroundings, peering curiously at the three. No, not at them, Yuurika discovered to her mounting horror. At her, in her black net - and - spandex hugging her every (pitiful) curve, with all the sparkly bits consuming the last sunrays and vomiting them back out in a cacophony of colour.
Her half-skirt fluttered in the breeze as she processed the myriad of stares.
A primordial squeal erupted from depths Yuurika didn't know she even had. Without voluntary thought, she about-faced and sprinted all the way back to Yuutopia.
Viktor and Yuri just watched her go.
After a beat, Viktor turned to Yuri. "Shall we?" Without waiting for an answer, he began walking. Yuri caught up and strode beside him without a complaint.
"I'm glad this is all settled. It could have gone better just now, though," Viktor mused aloud.
"You think that was bad? I still have to tell Yakov," Yuri warned.
"You still haven't told him yet?!" Viktor exclaimed. "How come he hasn't been blowing up your phone? Did you put it on flight mode again?"
"No, I blocked him," Yuri answered shortly. "How come he isn't blowing up your phone?"
"Oh, I blocked him years ago," Viktor admitted nonchalantly. "I bet he's been calling the ryokan to ask for you like he has been for me."
"Nobody told me," said Yuri, hurt.
"Hmm, well, you're pretty scary when you're mad. Maybe Hiroko told Mari to tell you."
"Figures," Yuri muttered, kicking an errant pebble savagely.
Viktor slung an arm about the sullen teen's shoulder. "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. You drive everybody crazy. Yakov'll probably be overjoyed to hear you're leaving him."
Yuri punched Viktor.