Time moves much faster than we sometimes even perceive it, of course there will be days that will feel slow and lethargic but, once they pass, when you look back, time seems like water slipping through your fingers.
For Nikolai, his beloved grandson's childhood had evaporated in the blink of an eye.
He remembered perfectly that morning that Yuri had come into the world. Because after six months without hearing from his daughter —and not for lack of trying to contact her—, she had called him with her voice cracking with sobs.
"Father, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry", she murmured, then her voice broke off in a prolonged cry of pain and Nikolai nearly had a heart attack from worry.
"WHERE ARE YOU!" he shouted, his daughter sobbed some more, but finally she told him where to go.
When he arrived at the hospital, he did so thinking the worst.
His daughter had always been too impulsive and foolish; she always went for what she wanted, that was how at sixteen she had debuted as an Idol with a bright future career. And when at eighteen she announced that she was moving to the centre of Moscow to start a career as an actress, and he well knew that no words could convince her otherwise. Yet six months later, she called him to say she was going to France to shoot a series, Nikolai had driven her to the airport, and then... she progressively stopped calling until the only communication she had was from her manager, Anna, a strong-willed woman who Nikolai knew kept his daughter's impetuous character in check.
For six months, however, communications became even more diminished and difficult.
So, that evening when he received the call from his daughter, Nikolai went into a crisis, not even having been told that his daughter had returned to Russia.
When he arrived at the hospital, Anna was there, when she looked at him she seemed slightly embarrassed, but in her anxious state Nikolai overlooked it.
"What happened to her?" He inquired, he needed to know that his Lena, the only daughter and the only living memory he kept of his beloved wife, was alright.
"She's fine", the woman said, her eyes avoiding him and despite that statement, Nikolai would not be reassured until he saw his daughter. "She's just in labour."
She muttered in a whisper, Nikolai had to take a seat.
So it was that on a first of March, which seemed like any other, though perhaps sunnier, and with a totally pristine sky, with no clouds in sight; his grandson was coming into the world.
And, when Nikolai held him for the first time, he knew he would do everything to make his life a happy one.
The first few months had been difficult because Lena cried every time she saw the baby. So, given her postpartum depression and medication, breastfeeding was out of the question. Her daughter had been «fortunate» to know the person who had shown her the beauty of colours up close, however, not all stories have happy endings and he had gone away, leaving her with a broken heart, and a baby, a beautiful boy with little green eyes that he must have inherited only from his father.
Nikolai sighed, to think that almost seventeen years had passed and now—
He looked at his grandson, who with eyes brimming with hope was staring at the Japanese boy, who was gazing raptly at a picture of his grandson when he was just a child.
"It's from the time I knew you. Your bowl cut made you look really adorable!" Said the Japanese boy and Nikolai was surprised. He looked at his grandson Yuri who was motioning the boy to be quiet, however, the boy didn't seem to understand his gesture because he turned his head slightly and blinked in confusion. "What?"
He asked, and when Yura looked at his grandfather's arched eyebrow, he blushed profusely.
"So, how long have you two known each other exactly?" He inquired, because in all his years he had never met anyone who awakened colors at such a young age, besides, his grandson in his childhood had never shown any change, even though Yuri was his mother's son, and if anything the two of them used to keep things they thought would worry him.
Yuuri blushed. Despite having met Nikolai six other times already, he still tended to get nervous in his presence.
"Remember that time Mom took us on vacation to Tokyo?" Yuri inquired.
Nikolai nodded, he remembered it well because that vacation had come after he reprimanded his daughter for not spending enough time with Yura.
It was also when they discovered Yuri's innate gift and love for ice skating.
"Well, Yuratchka and I—" Yuuri uttered, because he loved his nickname, even longer than his own name but the one he loved the sound of and the way Yura's cheeks flushed and his eyes seemed brighter when it left his lips, "—we met at the outdoor ice rink. I had been taking ice skating lessons for a while and we had gone to look for more information because I longed to compete, but while visiting the rink, and while trying to do some of the exercises I had learned, another boy bumped into me, and suddenly, there they were! Yura's green eyes, but then he vanished into the crowd and for a while we didn't hear from each other until a little over a year ago during his last year in the Junior League.
Nikolai nodded thoughtfully, looked at them with utmost attention and something... an old story of souls transcending space and time to meet came to his memory. He smiled and shook his head.
"Oh! That sounds like a lot of lucky coincidences", Nikolai finally said, while Katsuki, the more romantic of the two young men, nodded with dreamy eyes and Nikolai's heart felt particularly grateful and relieved, that the one who would show his grandson colors was a young man like that. For he had long worried, not only that the story of his daughter, his lovely girl who lived perpetually with a broken heart would repeat itself, but because Nikolai had also seen how reluctant his grandson seemed to interpersonal relationships, and yet he seemed to glow, as if the same colors flared at the glow of his feelings when the Japanese boy was near, as if the same colors wanted to bring out his feelings. He watched them, hovering around each other; sharing subtle touches of hands, smiles and lingering glances and for a moment he felt like crying, his sweet boy, his adorable Yuratchka, was happy, as he had never seen him before.
He stood up.
"Is something wrong grandpa?" Yuri inquired, squinting into Nikolai's teary eyes. The old man smiled, his grandson was a little overprotective of those he loved.
Nikolai shook his head.
"I'll get the photo albums", he murmured with an amused twinkle in his eye. "I have a lot of funny stories to tell from your baby and infant years and it's always best to do it with visual support".
Yuri looked at him in horror.
"Oh, no grandfather that's not necessary", Yuri pronounced.
"Of course it is", Nikolai said with a knowing smile, Katsuki's brown eyes sparkled with excitement, "I'm sure your boyfriend would love to see the pictures of when you were a grumpy bee at the spring festival".
"Oh my gosh! I'm sure you were an adorable child", Yuuri pronounced, and if Nikolai enjoyed seeing his grandson embarrassed any more, who could blame him? It was truly heartening the way that despite his frown, he didn't hide the affection with which he looked at the Japanese boy and how the Oriental's soft smile was filled with sweet love.
He walked away with slow steps and on the way, the photograph of his wife, Nastya, looked back at him.
When they had first met, colors had long been a part of their lives. Neither of them had known who had brought those colors, but it had been good, because love had not been lacking, even though she had not lived long enough to see her daughter grow up, let alone her grandson, Nikolai had no doubt that wherever his wife was, she was watching over them.
Yura's light, carefree laughter, rang through the room he just left, and the smile on his wrinkled face only widened.
"You see my dear, our child is happy", he murmured, outlining with his eyes the fine features of his late wife, he sighed, seeing his grandson glowing under the love made him long for his wife's company. "Maybe I'll tell them our story, that sounds nice, doesn't it?"
The portrait remained immovable as always and Nikolai shook his head, he was becoming a sentimental old man, he took one last look at the portrait and finally walked away, time waited for no one and he was really looking forward to sharing with his grandson and his boyfriend the memories that populated his albums, he would even— he would even show them his old letters and those traveling theater tickets that he kept with utmost care in a small wooden box.
Love was in the air, and although it was early October, it seemed to herald a long-lasting spring.