CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED TWENTY
Getting close was easy enough. There was no reason to try and be sneaky at an official practice. Otabek was no social butterfly either; if he wasn't by his coach, he was by himself. The trouble was trying not to be too obvious, which was implacably difficult. Viktor reconsidered his plan to simply approach.
He and I have barely ever exchanged words. It's always been because of Yuri or Yurio...now it's just me. He'll know I'm up to something if I just saunter over to make small-talk for no reason. I have to wait for the right moment...
There was little else to do except go along with the actual schedule of the day and get ready for ice-time, keeping an ever-watchful eye on the Kazakh. Stretching, staying hydrated, practicing moves off-ice, watching others go through their routines. Viktor spotted the Selfie Squad fairly quickly as well, but without Yuri around, he realized the group had little reason to come over to him.
Even Mikhail noticed, "You're not as social as you normally are." He commented, "I hope you're not putting yourself out on my account."
"Not exactly?" He answered, "It's been such a long time since it was like this last... It actually feels a bit weird."
"What's going on then?"
"Aside from Chris...I really don't have friends." He explained, giving a huffed laugh at his own expense, "I mean, I can hold a conversation with people if I want to...but I have no one to really hang out with."
"You're turning into an old codger like me." Mikhail teased, "You only socialize with people older than you are."
"I can't..." Viktor whined, and went down to the floor, "I really am an old people..."
.
Getting onto the ice was a relief, and Viktor took to it with zeal. Even just the warm-up was welcome; it gave him the space he wanted to think. Between some loose footwork and easy moves in the field, he kept half an eye on Otabek again. The younger skater was in the same group, and was in the rink at the same time, doing his own warm-up. It felt like no time at all before the announcer called them all off again, and athletes poured out to rink-side. Viktor went for his blade-guards, and somehow lost sight of his query in the shuffle. It wasn't hard to surmise where the man had gone, and Viktor ducked into the prep-area as much to look for him as to get out of the way. The emcee called for the first skater's music to start, and the silver slipped under the curtain just before it bega-
"Viktor."
He seized where he stood, a chill going down his back, "H-hah!?"
"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." Otabek commented, "Can I have a minute?"
Oh crap! I didn't see this coming!? Now I'm brain-dead! What does he want to ask about!? He thought in a panic, and felt himself go on autopilot to a quieter part of the prep-area.
"You came alone today." Otabek said idly, and looked around to make sure no one else was nearby.
"Other than my uncle? Yeah... Yuri needs to rest, and the rest aren't competing, so there was no reason to drag them all out here." Viktor answered warily, "...I gotta admit, I'm pretty confused right now?"
"I know." The Kazakh agreed, "I'll try to make this quick."
Viktor watched nervously as Otabek's cogs turned; he could see Mikhail watching from a distance, but the elder kept his distance.
"Is Plisetsky mad at me or something?"
"Ehh?" The Russian gaped, "That's what you wanted to ask me about?"
"You know him best out of anyone that's spent any time with him lately." Otabek explained, looking fairly stiff where he stood, "Is he acting weird to you, too?"
Viktor's face twisted, "Weeeiiirrdd hhhhooooowwwwwwwww...?"
"...I guess that's an answer in itself. Never mind then." The younger skater said simply, and turned to step away again, "Sorry to bother you."
NooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOO! The Russian's mind raced, and suddenly both arms shot out to the sides, "Wait, don't go yet!" He stammered inelegantly. Otabek looked back in surprise, and Viktor tried to regain his senses, "I mean...I meant to ask you some stuff, too."
"...Okay...?"
"This whole business with Yurio...maybe I can help." Viktor went on, "He's been pretty testy and combative most of his life. He's settled down a lot lately though. Now...Yuri and I disagree on the explanation for this, but we do agree that a lot of it has to...do with Nikki."
"I see."
Viktor tried to make light of it and laughed awkwardly, "Papa Mimi caught on pretty quick that Yurio has difficulty conducting himself around the ladies. He's basically a push-over. He even listens to Minako, oddly...but I guess he gives her enough sass to make up for it." He explained, "So back at the Grand Prix Final, Papa Mimi basically sicked Nikki on him, in an effort to get him to chill out a bit...and boy, she worked one over on that kid."
"Are they going out?"
Viktor would've spat his drink out if he had one, but he sputtered anyway, and coughed to try and regain himself. He set a hand against a nearby wall, the other over his chest, and he caught his breath for a moment, "W-what!? Them!? No way!"
Otabek deadpanned, "...Sorry for asking?"
"Mimi would have a heart-attack on the spot if something like that happened..." The silver went on grimly, and fanned himself lightly, "He's pushing hard on the narrative that they are to see each other as siblings. This is where Yuri and I split on suspicions... I think Yurio is taking that idea very seriously. Yuri, on the other hand, thinks that Yurio doesn't care what the old man wants of them, and probably has a crush on Nikki anyway."
"...You've put a lot of thought into this."
Viktor pointed at the man for emphasis, "I have an inflatable T-Rex costume on the line here. It's important!"
"Oh..."
"But anyway though," The Russian waved his hands back and forth to dispel the thought, "That's not even what I wanted to ask you about. Do you have a thing for Nikki?"
Otabek went white as a sheet, "What."
"I guess that was a bit forward..." Viktor surmised to himself, "I'm no good at this sort of thing... I guess, it's just cuz of how obvious it is that she likes you, maybe Yurio is getting defensive or something. If he's treating you badly, it's because he's jealous."
"We just talk." Otabek defended grimly, "I talk to plenty of people."
"And you were going to pay for the repairs to her phone. You got her a really fancy birthday present."
"I don't feel like I should have to explain being nice to people."
"Tsshhh..." Viktor grumbled and rubbed the back of his head, "I'm making a mess of this."
"You guys all act like you think I'm stupid." Otabek said suddenly, "Like you somehow think that I don't know she's fifteen, or how weird it is that we talk at all despite the age difference. I have no solid explanation that I can give her though for why we can't be friendly, except to avoid what other people might think of it. There's nothing going on. I'm just being nice." He said firmly, and twisted on a blade-guard, "Thanks for telling me about what's wrong with Yuri. Maybe I can fix it now."
Viktor watched the Kazakh go, quietly and in surprise. He blinked and shook his head, but then made a weird face, "...So is that a yesssss oorrr...?"
.
Both Russians returned to the Estate House with less than they wanted. The SUV parked in the house-front roundabout and let them out before driving off again, and the door inside was opened. Surprisingly, no one was there waiting for them, but it didn't take long for the household to realize they were back.
"WHAT DID YOU DO!?"
Viktor twitched in surprise, but Mikhail didn't seem to react at all, looking rather business-as-usual. The thunder of angry stomps on the hardwood grew louder as the petite teen came towards the entry foyer. She came into view soon after, eyes red and cheeks wet, but her accusatory glare was leveled at her father.
"WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM!? HE SAID WE CAN'T BE FRIENDS ANYMORE AND BLOCKED ME!"
Viktor finally fessed-up, "...It was my fault, not Mimi's."
"Wh-...Why!?"
He felt the cold pit in his stomach grow as the guilt weighed down on him, "I was just talking to him... He was just trying to figure out what happened to his friendship with your Yuri and-"
Tears welled and the teen leaned her head back in stunned horror, but she then took a step forward and snarled, "So you made him pick between us!? How could you!?" She yelled, and twisted on a heel to run for the circular staircase, "I can't believe this! I HATE YOU!"
Viktor's brow furrowed severely, but he had no clue what to do. He looked desperately to his uncle, but Mikhail's stony disposition wasn't helpful either.
"She'll settle down before too long." He explained, "And she'll understand eventually."
"...I didn't tell Otabek to block her. I didn't make any suggestions." Viktor said quietly, shoulders sagged. He jerked when he heard the door upstairs slam shut, "...When he said he knew what to do to fix things...it never even occurred to me that he'd do this... Now I feel terrible."
"Sometimes, problems take care of themselves," Mikhail supposed, "I know it sucks, but this is for the best."
"...I know you feel differently because you're her father. I get that. But...this feels wrong."
"It never feels right to hurt someone," The elder suggested, and handed his jacket to the rattled estate staff, "And it feels worse when you care about them."
"She thinks I did this on purpose though..."
"Just let it settle down a bit. She won't listen to you while she's upset anyway."
Viktor nodded grimly and shrugged his things into the care of the staff, then moved off without another word. He made his silent ascent to the second floor, and paused briefly at the top, barely able to hear sobbing through the thick wooden door. The cold pit in his gut grew barbs, and he could do nothing but continue on to the end of the wing. The sound of dog beans on the door to his room came to him before he'd even completely arrived, and he stood outside for a moment to listen. He tried to let himself smile at their excitement - their whimpers of urgency joined the jumps against the panel - but it didn't seem to help much. He reached for the door-handle and pushed the panel in.
The dogs tumbled out of the room like basketballs let loose from a net-bag and rushed all around, sniffing the landing and their person. They mouthed at his hands, and Makkachin jumped up behind him, and eventually coaxed him into the room. Viktor hadn't seen Yuri's attempt at looking alluring before Yuri slumped into the blankets and gave up, "...Sorry about all that."
"...About all what?"
Viktor looked up, "...You...didn't hear it?"
"Sorry...no...? What happened?" Yuri wondered, and sat up a bit in bed.
"I talked to Otab-"
"You did what!? Viktor!"
"...What?"
"You swore you wouldn't meddle!"
"Oh...right..." He said sullenly, "...So I messed up three ways instead of just two."
Yuri looked aghast, "Three?"
Viktor slowly let himself into the room, and closed the door behind himself once the pups were all back inside. He slid over to his side of the bed and sat back against it, eyes on the trim at the base of the wall, "Well, talking to Otabek at all was the first mistake. I told Papa Mimi I'd ask what he thinks of Nikki. Apparently our conversation lead to him cutting Nikki out, and he blocked her, and she's blaming me for it..."
"Oh... I thought I heard a door slam..."
"And now you're upset because I meddled, even though I said I wouldn't..."
"...Why did you...?"
Viktor lowered his head, "I forgot."
"Uhhhhggg Viktor..." Yuri groaned, and dropped back down to the blankets, "And here I thought I could surprise you when you got back...now I can't..."
"Surprise me?" The silver echoed and looked back over his shoulder. It was only then that he realized Yuri had their toy in the bed with them. Horror overtook him and he clutched at his head, "NOoooooOOOooooOOO! I ruined everything!"
