Ryuugazaki: Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Do not fret because of the thought of not getting a chapter. You're getting your chapters (heart)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

(Monday, 23 November 2015 – 2:14pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)

Yuuri's math class is over. They walked out of the classroom and strolled. They decided to go to the cafeteria to get a bottle of water. The vending machine doesn't have anything worthwhile in there. The only thing worthy of purchase was water. It was 29ºF today, so they decided against going outside. Instead, they went up to the library and sat in the space they shared with Victor. They opened their "Monday" binder. They have a European history essay to do. Yuuri looked at the prompt and deemed it to be relatively straightforward. They have an idea on what they want to do for the paper, and they feel that they'd be able to knock it out the park.

Yuuri put their binder away and looked across from them. On a typical day, Victor would be here, next to Yuuri. They would be discussing some inane thing. Victor would be all heart eyes, handholds, and quick heartbeats; Yuuri would be internally and externally trembling. They would quake in delight and anxiety with every little thing Victor did. On a special day, they would be together, somewhere else. Yuuri would rather have an average day or a special day; either one was fine with them. As long as it wasn't today.

They took out their sketchbook and started to draw the bookshelf across from them. Yuuri's phone buzzed as they reached for their ruler.

Mari: What are you doing, little brother?
: Drawing a bookshelf.
Mari: Sounds boring as hell lmao
Mari: I'm going to call you really quick

A call came through from Mari, and Yuuri picked up. "Hey there, little brother," Mari said. Yuuri smiled. "How's that bookshelf coming along?" Yuuri looked at it and then at the page. Then back at the bookshelf and back at the page. "Well?"

"It could be better. I'll send you a picture." Yuuri sent Mari a flick of their drawing. It looked gross, and that upset Yuuri. "Did you see it?"

"Yeah. It looks like it could be better."

"It can be," Yuuri said. "What about you?" Yuuri asked. "How have your artistic pursuits been going?"

"Well, I haven't been too inspired to write much of anything, and I haven't read anything new." Mari sighed. "I've just been working. I need something new." A light bulb went off in Yuuri's head.

"I have a suggestion for you!"

"You do? Tell me."

"Crime and Punishment."

"Crime… and… Punishment?" She repeated. "Who wrote that?"

"Fyodor Dostoyevsky," Yuuri said, reaching in their bag to look at the cover of the book. "It's a thick book. It'll keep you occupied for a while."

"Why are you reading Russian literature?" Mari asked. "What got you into it?"

"Well, my friend is Russian, and I wanted to surprise them by reading it," Yuuri said. "Plus, I am trying to be cultured." Yuuri let the book rest on their binder.

"Why do you need to be cultured?" Mari asked. "You're already cultured. You're an artist." Mari had aspirations to be an artist but discovered that drawing wasn't in her portion. She found that she was a stronger writer. It worked out in the end. Mari majored in Japanese Language and Literature and loved every moment of it.

"I decided that I needed to expand my literature palate," Yuuri explained. Mari scoffed. "What? Can't I expand my palate?"

"You can, but it's weird. Why are you doing this for a person?" Mari questioned. "Do you like them?" Yuuri was silent. "Do you even know that you like them?"

"I like him a lot," Yuuri said. They didn't care that they didn't keep it ambiguous anymore. They'd have to come out to their family eventually. Maybe they could make headway today.

"Him?" Mari asked. "It's a guy?"

"Yes," Yuuri said, weakly. "He's a guy, and I'm… I'm all about him." Yuuri looked at the book cover. "Maybe I'll bring him home one day." Yuuri bit their lip and started to think about their heart-mouthed lover. What was he doing right now? Yuuri would have to text them to find out. "I want to bring him home one day."

"Is that a good idea?" Mari asked. "To bring him home, I mean." Yuuri felt their heart threaten to beat its way out of their chest. They instantly regretted trying to come out to their sister. They regretted it not because their sister wouldn't understand, but because this was a difficult conversation that they didn't plan out at all and it's showing. "You know I'll support you – always and forever – but is this really what you want? Do you want to bring this person home?"

Yuuri sighed and closed their eyes. "You're right."

"Yuuri, if you're gay, claim it. But I'm asking you right now: Is this what you want?"

"Mari, I'm not gay."

"You're not? Then why are we discussing bringing a man home to Mom and Dad?"

"I'm pansexual."

"Hold on, let me look that up," Mari said. She put her phone down. Yuuri heard keys being tapped and mouse buttons being clicked. "Oh," she said. "I get it now. I think." There was a silence. "Do you want this? Are you serious about this?"

"I do, and I am." There was a silence. "I think I'm in love with him."

"And I'm happy for you," Mari said. "Do you have any concrete plans to bring him home?" Mari clicked something.

"No, not yet," Yuuri said. "Right now, all I have is the desire to do so." Mari chuckled. "What?"

"I know nothing about this person of yours." Mari yawned. "What's his name? What does he look like? What does he study? Come on, tell me." She laughed. "Who has gotten your heart in such a bind?"

"His name is –" Yuuri looked up from their phone. Khoudia was standing in front of them. How strange. They didn't hear her approach.

"I knew you'd be here," she said.

"Mari, I'm going to have to call you back." Mari ended the call, and Yuuri put their phone in their pocket. "Hey Khoudia," Yuuri said. Khoudia took a seat near Yuuri and sighed. "Didn't you say that you weren't coming in today?"

"I did," she admitted. "But I just had to get away from Adeola and Fatou for a bit. Adeola was being a rude ass, and my mom wasn't trying to stop her. I couldn't take it anymore."

"So you come to the campus?" She nodded. "That's rough," Yuuri said.

"What about you? Why are you here when you have a bunch of packing to do?" Khoudia nudged Yuuri.

"I just needed some normalcy," Yuuri said. "Something normal before my life is thrown into disarray." Khoudia laughed.

"College for professional figure skaters is anything but normal, ma raison," she said. "Do you want to go to the café really quick? We can get a hot chocolate." Yuuri nodded and put Crime and Punishment away. They buttoned up their coat and left the library, trailing behind Khoudia. "Why are you behind me? Stand next to me." Yuuri stood next to Khoudia and stretched. "Show off," she scoffed. Yuuri laughed. They waited and waited for the elevator. "Do you want to take the stairs?"

"Sure," Yuuri said. They took the stairs to the first floor and walked out of the building. They walked to the corner. "So what was Adeola doing?"

"She was picking on me, and she wouldn't stop."

"Are Adeola and Fatou still packing your things?"

"They should be finished by now," Khoudia said. The light changed; they crossed the street and continued walking. "I hate being the middle daughter. I'm always ignored except for when they want to tease me." Khoudia stopped walking and held opened a door. "We're here. Have you been in this one before?"

"I don't think so," Yuuri said. "Is the hot chocolate here good?" They asked as they walked through the door.

"It's divine," she said. "When you drink it, it's like your tongue is being caressed by velvet. But you know what that's like, don't you?" Khoudia said. She laughed, and a woman standing by the napkins looked at her.

"Wait, are you referring to that time I rubbed my face on a roll of velvet or are you talking about my boyfriend?" They walked to the back of the line. Khoudia was looking at the bulletin board.

"Can't I be referring to both?"

"I mean, I guess you could," Yuuri said. "But it's you. You were referring to Victor." Khoudia laughed again. "You're going to get us kicked out of someplace one day."

"Why?"

"Because of your laugh," Yuuri said. Khoudia sucked her teeth. "I'm being serious." They moved up the line. "Your laugh is so weird that people look at us and want to vacate the premises." She sucked her teeth again. "You do realize that white people are afraid of you, right?"

"I know," Khoudia said. "I relish in their fear. Because I am great and everyone needs to recognize that." It was Yuuri's turn to laugh. "What? Do you disagree with me?"

"No, I know you're great, and I feel like your greatness should be recognized." They moved up the line. "But I feel like you're using 'fear' in its archaic form." Khoudia shrugged and took out her phone. She took a flick of Yuuri. "Is that going on your Instagram?" She nodded. "Of course it is." Yuuri's phone buzzed. "Did you just post it?" She nodded.

"Have you spoken to Victor today?"

"Not yet. He'll probably call later," Yuuri said. "The NHK Exhibition skate is today, right?" Khoudia nodded. "Nice. I hope he calls to tell me about it."

"Or you could just watch it online," Khoudia said. "Just watch it online." Khoudia took a selfie. "What were you talking about with Mari? Victor?" She curiously asked.

"Yeah, I was telling her about him." Yuuri looked at their shoes. "Well, was. Then you came along, and I had to hang up." Khoudia smirked. They moved up the line. "What size are you getting?"

"Medium."

"Then I'll get a medium," Yuuri said.

"What were you telling her about him? Well, planning to, rather."

"His name… His major…" Yuuri bit their lip. "I might've gotten around to showing Mari a picture of him." Yuuri shrugged.

Chris: A few more days and I get to meet you!
Chris: I'm so excited!

"What do you think she would have done if you told her that it's your crush, Victor Nikiforov?" Khoudia raised her hands to her face and punctuated Victor's name with jazz hands. Yuuri shrugged. "Do you think she'd believe you?"

"She might just laugh and say 'try again.'"

"I see where you get your wit from," Khoudia said and sucked her teeth. "Move up." They moved up the line; they were almost at the register with two people ahead of them.

"It's not the only thing I get from Mari," Yuuri said. Khoudia snickered. Mari has taught them many things, and dry wit is not the only thing.

"If she taught you social skills, I think you need to tell her that she did a bad job." Yuuri rolled their eyes and looked at their phone. They should probably get back to Chris' message.

: I'm excited to meet you too
Chris: Aaah! What hotel are you staying at? I'll come and visit you.

"I kind of want a cake pop," Yuuri audibly mused. "Should I get a cake pop?"

"Yes," she said. "Get the cake pop."

"What flavor?"

"Chocolate, duh," she said. Yuuri texted Chris as they nodded.

: I'll be at the Gostinitsa Arena
Chris: And I will be there, too!
Chris: This is fate.
Chris: We were meant to meet. This is proof.

Yuuri looked up at the overhead menu. They sell green tea lattes here. They scoffed at that. Then they looked through their text messages. Victor had sent them a picture of their skates.

: Aah, your skates

Yuuri put their phone away. Victor's probably asleep right now. Then Yuuri started to think. It was about 2am in Japan when Mari called. Victor's probably on their way back to America now. Yuuri was overjoyed. And also anxious. Wednesday is fast approaching.

#

(Monday, 23 November 2015 – 6:36pm, Detroit, Michigan, USA)

"Yuuri!" Phichit called from the kitchen. He decided to work on dinner tonight; Yuuri wanted to pack. They still weren't fully unpacked from the Bompard, so they didn't have too much to do. But still. They were unpacking and repacking – wash, rinse, repeat. "Yuuri," Phichit said. Yuuri looked at the door; they didn't hear Phichit's footsteps this time.

"What?" Yuuri extended their left leg to their front.

"I keep trying to ask you if you're going to eat dinner with me tonight, but you're not responding."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Yuuri murmured. They played with the zipper of their suitcase. "What are you making for dinner?"

"Stir-fry," Phichit said. "So, will you be eating with me tonight?" Yuuri nodded. "Ah, I'm being the afforded the privilege of eating with a Grand Prix medalist."

"Phichit–"

"I know, I know, not yet. But you will be. And I'm so excited!" Phichit gushed. "What should I make you when you come back from the Rostelecom Cup?" Yuuri was tempted to say "katsudon," but didn't want to burden Phichit with the task of making it like their mother. "I was thinking chicken marsala and angel hair pasta with broccoli and garlic. I'm not sure if I want to make dessert yet, though."

"Phichit, you don't have to do that."

"Too late. I've thought it, and I'm going to – what's that thing Khoudia and Adé say? Speak it into existence?" There was a silence. "No matter the case, I'm going to do it." Yuuri shrugged and looked at their fingers. "Are you done packing?"

"I'm not done."

"Now, when you say 'not done' do you mean 'not done' as in 'haven't finished packing' or 'not done' as in 'I'm still engaging in my rituals'?"

"I think it's the second one."

"So you're done then," Phichit said. "Come, I want you to read the directions to me as I cook."

"Is this another All Recipes recipe?" Yuuri asked. Phichit nodded. "Fine. As long as I don't have to touch the food." Yuuri got up from their spot on the floor and dusted themselves off. They followed Phichit into the kitchen and stood by the counter. Phichit gave Yuuri his phone. "Is this the recipe?" Phichit nodded and went back to the pan. He let his hand hover over the surface of the pan. "That honestly terrifies me when you do that." Phichit had the rice going already.

"I know what I'm doing."

"I know you do, but it still scares me. I'm afraid that something might happen."

"Nothing's going to happen to my hand," Phichit said, trying to assure his partner in crime. "Now start reading." So Yuuri read the first of the directions to Phichit.

"Did you do that already?" Phichit nodded. "Okay," Yuuri said. Then they read the second direction. "Did you do that?"

"No," Phichit said. "It's three tablespoons, right?" Yuuri nodded. Phichit measured out three tablespoons and added that to the pan. Then he added the peas, broccoli, and diced peppers to the pan. "Do I cover this?" Yuuri nodded. Phichit covered the pan. "What about the heat?" Yuuri looked at the directions.

"Medium-high for four minutes."

"Time it." Yuuri went to Phichit's timer and set it for four minutes. Phichit went to stir the rice. "What now?" Yuuri read the third direction. Phichit went to the garlic cloves and minced them with ease. Phichit usually moved around the kitchen like he was in control of everything. "Has it been four minutes yet?" Yuuri shook their head. "How was your day today, ma poupée?"

"Kind of boring. But I saw Khoudia today, so that helped."

"You saw Khoudia on campus?" Phichit was shocked. You could very rarely catch her on campus. Especially on a Monday. "Did she go to class?"

"No, she came to the library and found me," Yuuri said. "I think she was avoiding her French class." Khoudia avoids her French class for an entirely different reason compared to Yuuri. She speaks French fluently, but she speaks Senegambian French. She took French because she thought it would be an easy class, but her professor insists that her French is always incorrect. Always. Even when she gives a one-word answer. When Khoudia does go to her French class, she makes sure to be extra petty and provide the most African French answers. That's probably why she keeps getting Cs in her French class.

"Damn, I thought she would, you know, go to her French class and be compliant." Phichit checked the fire and returned to stir the rice.

"It's Khoudia," Yuuri reminded him. "She said Adeola was being annoying, so she had to leave."

"And come to campus," Phichit said. "The library of all places."

"I was just as surprised as you."

"So what did you two do?"

"We went to this café across the street for hot chocolate. Khoudia said that it's great." Phichit nodded. The timer sounded. "Clear the pan." Phichit nodded and did that. "Add the half of the beef and garlic for up to two minutes." Phichit nodded and did that, too. "Time it?" Phichit nodded; Yuuri set the timer for two minutes.

"And you trust her?" Phichit laughed. "She thinks we're gross for drinking aloe water. You can't trust her judgment." Yuuri laughed. "You have an appointment tomorrow with Luzia and Noêmia, right?"

"I do. I have so much to tell them." Yuuri got on the counter. "I can't wait until everything is back to normal. I miss seeing Luzia once a week."

"I could imagine," Phichit said. "Schedule changes aren't the easiest on you. Hopefully, once the Grand Prix is over, we can live normally again." Phichit rechecked the fire and stir-fried the meat and garlic. "And yes, poupée, I mean once the Grand Prix is over." Yuuri rolled their eyes. The timer sounded.

"Alright, now take the beef in the pan out and add the rest of the beef and garlic." Phichit nodded and did as Yuuri said. "Do you have the stir fry sauce?" Phichit pointed to the counter by the fridge. "You're prepared."

"I made it this morning." Phichit mixed the beef. Then he added the beef and vegetables and mixed in the stir-fry sauce. "I've wanted this stir-fry, and I decided to make it, finally." Yuuri nodded. "Poupée," Phichit said, "I know I told you that you wouldn't have to do anything, but can you check the rice?" Yuuri got off of the counter and went to the stove eye. They uncovered the rice and looked at it. "Grab a fork and see if it's done." Yuuri did as Phichit asked. "Is it done?" They nodded. "Turn off the eye." Yuuri turned off the stove eye and fluffed the rice. "Thank you, baby," Phichit said.

"No problem." Phichit added the crushed red pepper to the stir-fry and mixed it one more time.

"I'm glad that you're going to eat with me tonight," Phichit admitted. Yuuri smiled. They're glad that they're eating tonight, too.

Ryuugazaki: If I may make a snack suggestion, might I suggest that everyone try french vanilla Pirouettes by Pepperidge Farm? They are delicious. I can smash six cans of these.