Yuuri had fallen asleep shortly after the takeoff. Almost in mid-conversation. Victor smiled when he noticed it, realising that he wouldn't be graced with an answer to his question, not that it mattered anyway, and began draping Yuuri in his jacket. Tucking it in behind his shoulders to keep it in place. Of course, he was exhausted. Not only from competing, being under the pressure that came with it, and doing an exhibition program earlier during the day. He had been nervous, seemingly walking the edge. The way he'd been fidgeting, being forgetful, slowly getting more and more introverted. It had drained him. All of it.

Victor ran his fingers through his hair as he leaned back in his seat, pushing it back from his face. Fighting a somewhat guilty conscience. Going to Hasetsu usually made Yuuri act quite the opposite. Made him light up and made him much more talkative. Made him relax. The thought was quick to root itself, that going there was a bad idea, and he became occupied with it for a while. Maybe Yuuri had endured as much as he possibly could for the time being, maybe his cup was filled? The memory of his outburst after they returned to the hotel, after the short program, appeared out of nowhere and made his insides clench.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to redirect where his thoughts were going, but to no avail. He was whisked away to when Yuuri had been craving something else, something distracting, how he'd been desperate and digging in. Also, the memory of leaving him like that, just before the short program, seeing how it affected him when he sat in the safety of the fortified fortress that was their hotel room… Some part of him couldn't believe that he'd done that and another part of him praised him for taking care of himself. It was impossible to make the sides of him meet, make them listen to each other and come to terms with what had happened. I left you. Before a competition.

He glanced at him for a short while. How his glasses were being askew since his head was leaning against the wall of the cabin. How his hair was falling into his eyes, how his lips were slightly parted. How strange it felt to see him look both fragile and convincing at the same time. That was Yuuri in his essence, really. A man of duality. How he could fluctuate between extremes depending on how comfortable he was, if he knew he could get caught if he stumbled. That still was puzzling to him. How Yuuri could still trust him after everything he'd done to him, after everything that had happened. It was as if he put his life in his hands and had the confidence to rest in that decision. Trusting him that he would make everything okay.

Like going to Hasetsu. If that wasn't trust, he didn't know what was. After all, he knew very well what would transpire there. Despite that, he'd told him yes. With the only condition that he'd be there by his side when he was to tell them, his family, that their story together would end up being unwritten almost before it even started. But that would have to wait just a little while longer. Telling his family. He had other things planned for him, for his birthday. Things Yuuri deserved, things Yuuri needed. Or... at least would cherish, down the road. Of that, he was certain.

He felt the need to say that he was sorry, all of a sudden. For everything. For everything that was to come. For feeling unsure about if he could meet his standards anymore.

"Do you think they'll be up?" Victor's voice felt like a caress, waking him up from his slumber. The dull sound and the rocking of the train bound for Hasetsu had apparently lulled him into another dreamless sleep.

As he tried to wake, he felt cocooned. It felt safe, protective, leaning against his shoulder. Feeling his hand being around him, his arm resting on his back. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying to get some of the grainy sleep out of them. "Probably not," he replied.

"Have they called?"

"Yeah, they did." He yawned silently. "Before we left."

"That's good." Victor sounded thoughtful. After a brief silence, he continued. "Are you doing okay?"

"Iㅡ"

"I'm sorry."

It came as a surprise, his interjection. Sounding so sincere, so full of shame. He wanted to look up at him, but abandoned the thought when he felt Victor's cheek on his forehead. Almost holding his breath, waiting for what was to come.

"You know… I just don't know where to start." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Yuuri."

They sat silent for a while, as they were. Lost in their own thoughts. To Yuuri, it felt like an apology was welcomed but at the same time, it was like putting a band-aid to a gushing wound. He wasn't okay. An apology wouldn't change that. He wasn't sure what possibly could.

He put his hand on Victor's thigh, just to make him know that he'd heard him. Deciding to bottle it up. Lock away and press down the tearing disappointment, the crippling anger, the flickering despair. A lot that had transpired during the weekend felt impossible to deal with, at least for now, so he did what he felt the most comfortable with doing. Carrying it within him, without letting anyone know. Just to make sure he wasn't a burden. That he wasn't a bother.

He wondered what Victor would think of him if he voiced his opinions. That he'd been mauled by him, trying to do what was asked of him in order to make it easier. That it had been costly, being forced to make choices he really couldn't influence at all. Make choices he wasn't comfortable with, either accepting him to be there but not by his side or… not being there at all? The most obvious choice, the one Victor chose for him in something that in retrospect felt like he'd been taken hostage, had hurt him. It had scared him.

"I…" He stopped himself, allowed his voice to die out. He wanted to tell him, he realised. Tell him that he'd made ignorant choices, that he'd made him upset to a degree that almost made him lightheaded just thinking about it. That he had hurt him. That he never wanted to feel that way ever again, and never because of him. It felt strange to him, to taste that realisation because, at the same time, he wanted to make it easier. For him, for his idol, for his coach, for his lover, for his husband. He wanted to do anything, although he couldn't bear the consequences. But he felt like a burden. A bother.

"Hey…" Victor's voice was warm, just like always, spoken against his cheek. The impeccable observer, as always quick to catch on. How he loved that side of him, how he hated it too.

Battling tension, fatigue, thoughts that were beyond what he could muster, he wanted him to stop. Stop with being so in-tune with him. Stop seeing right through him. "No, not now," he replied, thinking it was too low for him to hear.

"Yes, now." Apparently, he'd heard him. "For as long as I can, you hear me?"

He gave in without thinking twice. Letting the fingers on his jaw guide his mouth to meet his. Allowed him to kiss it away, the distress. Let him suck out the belittling thoughts he had of himself. Allowed himself to feel that his birthday had meaning, at least for a moment.

The walk from Hasetsu Station wasn't long, but it was bothersome. Treading through the sleet, forcing them to carry their luggage instead of pulling them behind. They could've travelled light, considering that the Grand Prix Final being less than ten days away from the end of the NHK Trophy, but they decided to stay for as long as possible in Hasetsu and packed accordingly.

They were getting close, seeing the Katsuki family inn in the distance. With every step, Victor couldn't help but feel nostalgia wash over him. It was bittersweet at best, leaning towards something heavier. Something darker.

He stopped underneath the entryway, seeing Yuuri continue to walk up to the entrance.

"Yuuri, wait." He waited for him to turn around and motioned for him to join him, with a little beckoning wave.

Yuuri put down his bag and approached him, with a tired look on his face. "What, Victor?"

"I just remembered," he said, sneaking an arm around Yuuri's shoulders, "coming here for the first time. Chasing after you." He laughed, amused by the memory of leaving a bewildered coach of his own to become someone else's, miles and miles away from Russia. Coming here, to Yuuri's family home, always brought out different aspects of that memory. Now, it seemed like his mind wanted to look into the memory of the chase, that desperate need of connecting with him.

"I don'tㅡ"

"Just listen, okay? Let me have this." He peered down at him, their breaths becoming smoke with every exhale out in freezing air. "I came here on a whim, with the craziest of intentions. I wanted you. I wanted you so bad."

Their eyes met. Blue looking into brown, trying to read the mood within them, behind them. Victor wasn't sure if if was because of the cold that Yuuri's eyes were glossy and constantly blinking. Knowing him, it was probably because of anything but the cold.

"Seeing you at the banquet, I justㅡ"

"Victor, please! I just can't. Not now."

He pretended like he hadn't been interrupted, like he hadn't heard him. "I just felt so unsure. You being drunk, being all over me like that. I wanted it to continue, no, begin, rather. You being close, touching me. But I disregarded that. I mean… I'm no better when I'm drunk!" He huffed, a soft kind of laugh.

Yuuri lowered his head, with a tension in his shoulders. Being very particular with not looking anywhere else than at his own feet.

"And then, that video of you skating. I saw it as proof. That you wanted me too. Or at least, wanted me to be there in some way. So, off I went."

He disregarded Yuuri's shaking, his billowing shoulders underneath his arm, the little whimpers. He needed to hear what he had to say.

"Do you remember? When you came darting through the door to the onsen? Oh, that look on your face!" He suddenly felt warm inside. "And then, when I saw that it was you, I said 'Yuuri, starting today, I'm your coach. I'll make you win the Grand Prix Final'."

He felt Yuuri's arms wrap themselves around him, felt him dig his face into his coat. Pushing in like he was hoping to disappear, get devoured by him somehow. He pulled him closer, wanting him to know that memories were meant to do this. To make him feel everything, anything he wanted to, and that it was okay. No matter the value.

"Yuuri… I've never regretted anything coming here. It was the best decision I ever made."

He decided to wait. To let the ebb and flow that acted out in his embrace to become still. And when the current disappeared, became all mirror-like and calm on the surface, he hoped that his lips would act as a layer of ice. Locking that calmness into place.

They entered the inn quietly. Not surprising at all, the lights were out. Leaving a greyish-blue tint and a calm ambience.

"Do we just go upstairs, you think," Victor whispered.

"Yes," Yuuri replied, his voice being strained from him shedding layers upon layers of tension and emotion outside. "I'm tired. You go up, I'll find bedclothes."

He watched Victor walk upstairs to his room. It was a familiar picture, one that normally would have infused him with a calm. Now, having Victor here, felt like a countdown to something, like his own demise. Something he wanted to fight off and not deal with.

He felt his pulse take off immediately. The understanding of telling his family that his husband was going to… He couldn't even bring himself to think that thought. How would he ever manage to say it? He hadn't managed to let those words and their meaning to even peek inside of his conscious mind. Emotionally, he knew. He knew what was going on, he understood the road they were travelling on. Those fears, the immense panic he felt were only adding to and building upon his innate nervousness.

He walked as silently as he could over to the laundry room, making sure to close the door behind him before he turned on the lights. Looking through cabinets, picking out pillow cases, sheets for the futon mattresses. Piling them up, preparing to take them with him upstairs. He hated the sensation, the way his throat was cramping up, not letting him swallow. He thought his body was done with doing that to him, at least for today.

He stiffened up, hearing the door open. Not daring to look over his shoulder to see who was joining him. He didn't have to, he knew it was his mother. Maybe because of the sound of her footsteps, or the change of energy as she stepped inside.

"Yuuri!" She sounded surprised. Emotional, in a happy way. "Honey, why are you here? You said youㅡ"

It just came over him. The feeling of being small, not knowing what to do. Feeling exhausted and weary. Not really feeling like himself. So he sought her comfort, the way he used to before he started to dress himself in expectations, admonitions, rules. Before he became weak under pressure. Before he became a bother. A burden.

She was surprised too. The gasp, the not knowing what to do with her hands told him this. How they patted him, feathery-like. Showing all the signs of someone not knowing how to comfort a person who'd been pushing people away for almost as long as they both could remember.

"Yuuri?"

Her voice told him that she didn't understand. Then again, why would she? Why would she understand the reason behind him crying on his birthday, the last shivering minutes that remained of it? Why would she understand the reason behind him crying after making it to the Grand Prix Final? He should be happy. But there was so much that she didn't know, that she didn't understand.

"Mom…" He had one arm around her, the other covering his mouth. Trying hard to keep sounds inside, trying hard to respect her and the way she was used to act around him.

"Yuuri? What's taking you soㅡ" The sound of his voice, disappearing into nothing. Softly overpowered by sniffs and erratic breaths.

"Oh, Victor is here too?"

"Mhm…"

He felt another pair of arms around him. Comparing them with those of his mother's, they were purposeful. Tuned in to him, to the moment. Honed to perfection, knowing exactly what to do.

"Not today, Yuuri. Okay? Let's go upstairs."

"Honey, what is he saying? Is everything good with you?"

"I just want to…" He changed language in mid-sentence. "I… no, it's… it's okay, mom. I'm tired. So tired. I just want to go to bed."

She let go first, the hiss of her slippers against the floor indicated that she gave them space. But she remained there. Watching them, silently. Trying to make sense of them, he thought.

"Mom, it's okay." He peered at her, just a quick glance over Victor's shoulder. "We… we're okay."

He eased up his grip around him, letting him go with a sigh. "I'm sorry," he mouthed, wiping his nose before reaching for the bedclothes.

"Love, don't be. I'm just going to say hi to your mom and then we can go. Okay?"

He nodded slowly. "Mom, I'll just…" He slid past her, stopped on the other side of the doorway. Listening to the hobbled conversation of two people trying to connect past the boundaries of language, not letting the difficulties stop them.

The slow breaths told him that he was close, within seconds of falling asleep. With no space in between them, fitting perfectly together, it had taken just a few minutes for Yuuri to grow heavy in his arms.

Victor had tried to keep it light when they left Yuuri's mother, when they prepared the mattresses on the floor, when they crowded the bathroom together. He had to restrain himself from trying too hard. Constantly reminding himself to respect Yuuri's need to go through what he was feeling without him distracting him, without him chasing after a smile. After all, trying to make him smile was a purely selfish endeavour, something that would probably make him feel better than Yuuri.

He felt the little tell-tale twitch against his chest. He was asleep now, hopefully residing in a place where he could feel the power of being in control. Where nothing would impair him, where he could make anything and everything go away with just a fleeting wish.

He buried his nose in his hair with a little sigh. He felt remorseful. The day had been nothing like he'd hoped. It had been full of tension, stress, unhappiness and words unspoken. Feelings unconveyed, at least the warmer ones, the more positive ones. He couldn't let it go, feeling highly responsible for how everything had played out.

Seeing Yuuri being close to Hiroko, wanting her to take the hurt away had been excruciating to watch. It told him much, if not everything of the fear and desperation that resided in him. He wasn't a person who opened up, he wasn't a person who invited people inside to take a look and rummage around in his inner baggage. Of course she was his mother, but Yuuri was specific about who he felt comfortable opening up to. Him seeking comfort from his family was a chapter Victor understood to be slightly complicated, probably because of the unbelievably high standards Yuuri had forced himself to reach. At the same time, they were always there. His family. Not so much in actions and words, but definitely in an emotional sense.

Trying not to think about what would happen when they, he and Yuuri, would tell them the news that was a partial reason to their visit, made him clench his jaw. All of that, the prospect of creating a devastating moment and upsetting people in the process, would have to come later. Tomorrow was all about Yuuri. About them.

"You're going to love it," he whispered into Yuuri's hair. "It'll be just you and me. Just like before."