CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
-Disaster in the making! Will Victor's past consume or free him!?-
Getting up, packed, fed, and to the airport was the most awkward and quiet procession of events Yuri had known in recent memory. Right up until they were at the self-serve kiosk, getting ready to print their tickets, Victor still hadn't made a decision about where they were going. Fingers tapped on the digital display to start the process, and Victor held his phone out, email at the ready for the confirmation numbers back to Hasetsu. Yuri stood quietly by with his own phone up, and the other email; the one the ISU sent with their (dreaded) economy-class tickets back to St. Petersburg.
Finally, Victor drew a difficult breath, and scanned the bar-code on his own phone to print their Hasetsu tickets. The terminal asked a few final questions about their boarding situation - bags, confirming their seats, carry-on luggage - then spat their boarding passes out. Victor quickly swiped them, stuffed his phone back into his coat pocket, and took his fiancé by the arm to start moving down to the baggage self-check station. He couldn't stand to look anywhere but up for the signs, and especially not towards Yuri; he was sure his partner was giving him 'that' look. It didn't stop Yuri from speaking though.
"...So...back to Hasetsu then, huh?" He asked simply, "Why'd you decide that?"
"Sitting in the onsen and getting some katsudon sounds infinitely more appealing than confronting my father, even if it is because of my mother's death."
"I see..."
They joined the cue quietly after that, and half-patiently waited for it to empty as the passengers ahead of them waded their way through. It seemed to take ages though, and the uncomfortably silence between the pair started to drive Victor bonkers. There were only three people left ahead of them in line when the Russian abruptly held his hand out, "Phone." He said curtly.
Yuri blinked, looked up at the man, then down at his expectant hand, "Phone?"
"Don't make me say it again."
A pang of nerves fluttered in Yuri's gut, but he did as bid and unlocked his device. It was still on the email confirmation page from earlier, and he set it gingerly into that - now that he really looked; sweaty - palm. He's really going to do it...? He thought, and stood with their rolling luggage as his fiancé went back to the kiosk again. It took far less time to get their second set of boarding passes, and Victor returned, not sure if he was angry, scared, frustrated, or just annoyed. Yuri then held his hand out to get his phone back, pocketed it, and lifted his palm a second time.
"What else?" Victor asked stiffly.
"Give me the passes you don't want to use. Once we check our luggage, it'll be hard to fix if we send it to the wrong destination."
The annoyed Russian rifled through the inside breast-pocket of his jacket, and handed over the tickets to Fukuoka.
Yuri carefully put them away, "When we're done in this line, we'll get the refund for these. Are you sure about this?" He asked, "This is what you want."
"Oh I'm sure it's absolutely what I don't want," The silver puffed, sinking into his jacket a little bit like he was already regretting the whole thing, "But..."
"Maybe he's changed." Yuri finished the thought for him, "It's been a really long time since you saw the man last. If nothing else, maybe losing his wife has humbled him, and he isn't as bad as you remember."
"I have a feeling he hasn't."
"Don't borrow trouble."
With their luggage checked-in to the Aeroflot line, Yuri guided their way to the refund counter, got their money back for the Asiana flight, and nudged his anxious fiancé over to the security checkpoint. Once through that, they headed for the first café they could find, and set their carry-on bags to hang off their dark wicker chairs.
"What time does the Aeroflot flight depart?" Victor asked anxiously, brows furrowed; it was clear that he regretted every second that passed now.
"Not for a while."
"Time. Please. What o'clock."
"Five."
Victor fell back against his chair with a muffled groan into his cupped hands, "We'll be waiting until seven at the earliest. This is just great. By the time we even get on the plane, we could've been in Hasetsu already."
"That is one reason why we decided to go back after 4CCs; super-short travel distance." Yuri reminded, "It'll be fine though. Incheon has plenty of stuff to do to pass the time. Let me at least call Minako-sensei and Mari-nee-chan to tell them not to wait-up for us in Fukuoka."
Victor grumbled and buried his face into his crossed arms on their table instead, "Božë moj, čto ja nadëlal?" (Dear lord, what have I done?) He whined.
Yuri pat the man's back gently, and made the unfortunate phone call to tell the aforementioned ladies that they would be returning without him and Victor. He didn't go into much detail about what had happened, but apologized profusely, promised he'd call his parents as well, and promised they would visit after Worlds instead. Once the second call was done - which went much the same way as the first, thankfully - Yuri put his phone away again, and spread out to slouch across his partner's back and shoulders, "It's done." He explained calmly. Though Victor didn't move, the subtle tremble told Yuri all he needed to know about how the man felt about this turn of events. ...He's...crying...? Oh, Victor...
.
Incheon International Airport wasn't an unpleasant place to spend half a day at least. It was relatively new, another wing (Terminal 2) was under construction and slated for grand opening the next year, possibly in anticipation of the Winter Games. Yuri looked at a map of the place and realized that not only was there a skating rink, but a sauna/spa, cinema, a Korean Cultural Museum, Sky Garden, and if they felt they needed it, a Rest area with beds and showers. Yuri wondered if that meant it had those airport sleep pods he'd once heard about.
Victor was unusually quiet.
Maybe not unusually quiet, given how he'd spent their first half hour in the building, but...for his normal affect, it was unusual.
Yuri held to his arm until they came to rest in the Sky Garden; a secluded and restful area with ponds, plants, and the smell of water in the air. The bubbling sounds from the ponds were relaxing, though Yuri could tell it wasn't helping Victor any; he just slouched against a wooden bench, staring at his knees blankly. Sitting on the man's right side, Yuri put his left hand on his partner's thigh and leaned close, "Is there anything I can do to help...?"
"Can you speed us forward in time so we can get to the part where it's already over?" Victor said, keeping his eyes low.
Yuri's brows furrowed, and he moved to put his right hand on the opposite side of Victor's face, and turned it to look into his eyes. He held there for a moment, gently stroking one pale cheek - he could feel the twitch under that eye, carefully hidden by silver bangs - and then leaned forward to kiss him. Victor relaxed a little as he felt it, and when Yuri pulled back again, he leaned to rest his head on the man's closest shoulder. Yuri rubbed his ear against the top of his fiancé's head, and the pair dozed there for about an hour.
Yuri eventually convinced Victor to go with him to the indoor ice skating area, thinking being in his element would help cheer him up a little. Since they always had their skates with them, there was no need to rent any, and they quietly laced-up and stepped out into the oddly-designed rink; more square than rectangular, and with four huge posts rising up from the quadrants, holding up the indoor terminal-railway high above. There were even a few people who recognized the pair and cheered them on from the other side of the barrier walls. For a moment, Victor smiled and waved like he always had, and gave them a little show, doing his signature quad flip and a few spins. They all clapped happily, and Victor went back to skate next to Yuri.
The rink was crowded; perhaps more than usual because of the competition that had just happened, or perhaps because so many people were on lay-over...but maybe, still, it could just be because of the huge pillars that took up so much space. They were even wrapped in shining, fringed paper and lights, looking like pale white-purple-pink Christmas-tree tinsel-posts. There was a billboard panel at the far end of the rink with a big display that welcomed tourists and guests alike for the Four Continents event; it didn't show any skaters on it, but rather, the event's logo, and a conspicuously-placed preview of the fact that it would also be hosting the Winter Games the following year.
There were a few families on the ice with their young kids, each wearing the signature blue rental skates and yellow helmets that the airport provided. A few times, a very young child, new to the rink, would skate past them without being able to stop, occasionally nearly colliding with them. Each time, Victor would lean down to gently stop them by putting his hands out for them to reach out to, and he'd turn them back around to gently nudge them towards the waiting arms of their parents or older siblings. It was probably for the best that only a handful of people recognized who he was, as it might've been difficult to handle fanfare from a nuclear family right then.
Victor suddenly felt a surge of energy, and pulled out in front again, skating backward in a wide arc, disappearing behind the huge 'tinsel-pillars' periodically before he reappeared again on the other side.
Peaks and valleys...moments of low and high energy. He's practically losing his mind with how long this is taking, Yuri thought to himself as he watched the Russian practically speed-skate a few laps around the small rink. This must be what Hell feels like to him; moving fast and nowhere to go.
Victor eventually slowed down when he caught up to his partner for the 4th time, and Yuri spun around to meet him. It felt like ballroom dancing after Victor took him by one hand and put the other around his waist, pushing him backwards with the remains of his previous momentum. Those blue eyes were watching ahead of them though, and Yuri could only wonder what had gotten him so focused all of a sudden.
"What kind of program should I do next season?" The silver suddenly asked, answering that one question with one of his own.
"...Eh?"
Victor spun his beloved back around again so he'd be facing forward as they skated, and he lazily draped himself over Yuri's back, "If I did a program just for you, what would you want to see me do?"
"I've never really thought about that before." Yuri admitted weakly, "Do you want me to think of something...?"
"What song would you pick?"
Yuri thought on it for a while, but then gestured for Victor to guide him as he skated blindly so he could check the music list on his phone for something he liked. He flipped around and wrapped his arms around the Russian's torso, effectively sitting on the leg bent between his own, letting Victor coast them along as he looked at his phone. There were a few possibilities as he scrolled through the playlist, but eventually, he stumbled onto one song, buried deep in his archive, and he pulled some ear-buds out of his pockets to let Victor hear.
They continued lazily skating along as Victor listened, and Yuri could tell he was starting to like it, as he bobbed his head a little to the beat of the music. As the song started to repeat its chorus, Victor pulled away; he took Yuri's phone with him though, and spun through a few simple moves as inspiration started to hit. As the song came to an end, Yuri watched Victor go back and put the song on repeat, practically mapping out a new program right there in front of Yuri's eyes.
He didn't see the Russian do any complex jumps though. That would come later. For the moment, he just saw the choreography percolating through Victor's mind, slowly but surely evolving into something tangible on the ice. At one point, probably on the 5th or 6th go-through, Victor developed a move that loosely reminded Yuri of the end of his own Free Skate. Instead of one hand coming up to his chest as the other reached outward while he was standing still, Victor skated slowly forward, descended to one knee, and thrust his right hand out ahead of himself.
Yuri could hear the music playing in his head as he watched, enamored by the performance even as it was barely being created. When Victor finally thought he had enough to start, he came back over to give Yuri back his phone and ear-buds, beaming down at him.
"I'm going to use this for my next short program, Yuri."
"Eh? Really? But you only just heard it..."
"It sank its teeth into me." Victor mused, and his partner's hair back affectionately, "I'm surprised you never suggested using it yourself."
"...It's too long for a Short Program and too short for Free Skate, so..."
"What, you've never considered editing it for time?" Victor was surprised, "Your conservatory friend, the one who made your 'Yuri on Ice' composition, she couldn't pare it down for you?"
"I never thought to ask."
"Which makes me lucky then." Victor smiled, "It means I can dance to this song for you."
Yuri flushed a little, "What about your Free Skate?"
"I haven't thought about it yet. I wanted to dedicate my time to finishing this season before I got too worked up about it. I have to focus, and pretend like I've done my old programs a thousand times more often than I actually have, so my performance at Worlds is equal to what it would've been had I not taken so much time off."
"I did tell you that you should practice them..." Yuri deadpanned him, "Remember?"
"...Maybe." Victor huffed a laugh to himself, "But I wasn't competing at Four Continents, so it didn't matter if I practiced my own programs or not yet. You needed my attention more than I did."
Yuri was just relieved that Victor had finally found something to be happy about again. They skated in lockstep for another 30 or 40 minutes before the growling in Yuri's stomach demanded dealing-with. When Victor heard the rumble, they packed up their skates again and started heading towards the restaurant area to find something to eat.
The time passed more quickly after that, and things seemed to feel a little more normal. For the moment, it felt like they were just getting ready to go home, like nothing was waiting for them in St. Petersburg but an anxious poodle. The upcoming 9 hour and 20 minute flight didn't seem like such a bad thing; Victor's leg-space would've normally had something to say about it, but declined to comment.
When it was finally time to board, however, Yuri could feel Victor getting anxious again, walking slower than he usually did to get onto the plane. Other passengers passed them in the boarding tunnel, and Yuri had to stop and go back to help coax his partner along.
"...Come on; Makkachin is waiting." He said, gently rubbing his thumb where he held to Victor's hand.
It took a while still, but the nervous Russian finally let himself get on the plane. Their seats weren't far on board; oddly, however...there were people already sitting in them, and none of them looked particularly interested in moving. Victor narrowed his eyes impatiently, but Yuri was quick to keep him from saying anything. He got them all the way back to the connecting tunnel, and tried his best to explain the situation.
"Our seats were reserved but there's a bunch of people already sitting in them," He started, "I'm really not sure what to do."
"That's Aeroflot for you," Victor grumbled quietly, "If they're not super late, then they overbook. Or they lose your things."
"Hush, they're looking for a solution," Yuri said, and pulled them both back out of the way of other boarding passengers. They felt rather silly, standing there while the flight master tried to find somewhere else to put them, and it seemed like practically every other passenger was on board when an answer finally came.
"Sorry for wait," The flight master said, returning to the duo; his accent was rather thick, "Now all passengers are on plane, we find seats. How you sit?"
"...How we what?" Yuri echoed in confusion.
Victor grumbled a punishing sigh, "Prosto govori tak, čtoby tebja ponimali bez perevodčika." (Just speak so you don't need an interpreter.)
Yuri found himself buttoned-up rather quickly at the harsh and intimidating language, but it seemed like Victor got his point across so quickly that the flight master just gestured towards the business-class section. To their surprise, the whole section was fairly sparsely occupied, perhaps only half occupancy, and they were allowed to pick whichever seats they wanted. The cabin was set with three rows, each with a pair of seats that were off-set from the row beside them. Victor was quick to find a pod next to a window, with at least one other pod behind and in front of them to avoid anyone bothering them with kicks or looking. The orange and blue seats were a welcome sight to the Russian's tired eyes, and he plunked down into the one nearest the window.
"This isn't so bad all of a sudden," Yuri commented, reaching up to put his boot-bag into the overhead compartment, then held his hands out for his partner's. With the compartment then closed, Yuri pulled up the pillow and blanket pouch from his seat, and sat down. He looked over once he was settled and buckled in, and found his fiancé sullenly sitting there with his eyes closed. Nervously, he reached to find the man's hand and clasped it between their spots, "Would you rather I just stay quiet on this flight?"
"No..." The silver answered, eyes still closed, "I just don't know what to talk about anymore."
"Would listening to be prattle on make you feel better or worse though?"
Victor turned his head on his pillow and looked for a moment, but then leaned across the seat-divider and gave a peck to his fiancé's cheek, "As long as what you say doesn't suggest that this dumb situation ruined your weekend or diminished your Gold victory, you can say anything you like, and I'll be fine with it."
"...Maybe we can watch a movie instead then."
"...Has it been that bad?" Victor sighed and slouched, "I should've told Yakov to kick rocks..."
"No no, not like that...sorry." Yuri sighed, and kissed his partner's fingers where he held them, "Nothing that's happened has ruined anything. ...Okay maybe the banquet a little bit, but that's it. Definitely not the competition or our amazing Duet."
That just made Victor sink even further down his seat, "I ruined the banquet...! Ugh!"
"It's fine!" Yuri protested frantically, "Victor! Really! The 4CCs banquet is always really stuffy and formal anyway! I would've hated it no matter what!"
"Even with Phichit and I there?"
Yuri went stone-faced, "...Ugh fine you win, the banquet was kind of ruined."
They both sank in their seats and pouted until take-off.
When they were finally, safely in the air, and the seat-belt light turned off, Yuri peeled out of his sleeper seat and moved over into Victor's. No words need be said between the couple; Victor started lowering the seat down to its horizontal position, and squeezed over to one side so Yuri could wedge himself in next to him; and incredibly tight squeeze for two adults, but well-worth the effort once achieved. Once they were properly tangled into each other, Victor threw both of their blankets over themselves, and wrapped his arms around Yuri's head to pull him close to his chest. He clung to his beloved for most of the flight.
Thankfully, as long as they were asleep, none of the flight staff bothered them.
Nearly 10 hours later, with one break in between for an in-flight meal, they landed at Sheremetyevo airport in Moscow. With the time-difference, it was almost 9 o'clock at night local time, and there were still another 3 or 4 hours on the Sapsan train to get to St. Petersburg, so it was after midnight when they finally got into the city.
The shuttle that took them to the airport had gotten them back to Victor's front door after that. Exhausted and travel-weary, Yuri collapsed on the bed; he longed for the family hot-spring back in Hasetsu. After a minute of dozing, he pulled himself back upright and went to where he saw a light near the kitchen. Victor stood by the stove with a pot of red-purple liquid; the blue gas-light underneath slowly brought the liquid to boiling.
"...You're going to be up that long?" Yuri wondered, "Mulling wine always takes you a few hours, at least..."
"I don't think I'll sleep tonight." He answered, stirring with one hand as the other rested on his hip. He huffed a tired laugh, "And I really, really need this."
"When is this meeting even supposed to happen?" Yuri wondered as he stepped in, and leaned back on the counter; watching Victor boil his wine on the cook-top island, "Is it tomorrow? Er...Later today?" He corrected, remembering it technically already was tomorrow.
"I'm supposed to meet with my father later today, early afternoon, to get instructions on where to go for the funeral, which is tomorrow-tomorrow afternoon." He answered, and pulled the small cook-pot off the stove to pour its steamy contents into a slow cooker next it. He tossed in his favorite spices, some orange juice, and orange hull, then covered it with the lid and set it to low heat. He set a timer for 2 hours and cleaned up the small mess, "It's like he wants to be sure I got Yakov's message, so that at least he can say he put eyeballs on me first, if I back out at the last second... I've no doubt he'll give me grief about making sure I go; honor thy parents and all."
"And that's the part that's keeping you up tonight?"
"Da."
"So how come he didn't just contact you himself?"
"He doesn't have my information." Victor explained, "Because of what happened, it's hard to get my number unless I give it out myself. Yakov screens the calls I get from outsiders, and then I set my number to private if I call them myself. I still get the occasional sales call, but it's not specifically because they're looking to talk to me."
"Couldn't your father just find out where you train and show up there to give you the info?"
"He could, but he's not exactly ambitious. He's just..." The Russian started, but then paused, reaching up to rub his forehead, "...I can't even think of the right word. Sorry."
"Spiteful?" Yuri wondered, "Like...really scornful, judgmental, that sort of thing...?"
"No...well, yes, but..."
"...Vindictive?"
"Yeah." Victor brushed his hair back, feeling his left eye start to throb with the memory of a distant incident, "Whatever it is that's driving him to reach out to me now, it's not enough to go out of his way to make it easy for me. He's going to make me work for this. He probably doesn't even actually want to talk to me, but something's forcing him. If there was something else going on, some ulterior motive, Yakov would've found out about it and never told me about Konstantin ever making contact with him in the first place."
"Konstantin...so that's his name."
Victor groaned aloud, "Damnit, I knew that would slip..."
"Yakov must be very protective of you if he'd go this far." Yuri wondered, ignoring the comment. He stepped closer to snake his arms around his partner's weary frame, "It's above and beyond what I think Celestino would've ever done for me."
"He was there when the falling-out happened." Victor explained, "He's going to be there later today, too."
"Do you expect it to go that badly...?"
Victor huffed a laugh, and twisted his hand slightly so he could return the hug, "I suppose there's no sense being vague anymore. The truth is, the last time I saw my father, he knuckled me in the eye so hard, it bled for four days. I thought I was going to go blind, and I think my father meant for it to, thinking it would keep me off the ice. That was before joining the ISU though, so no one but Yakov knows. And you."
"...There's no way he would try to hit you again though...right?" Yuri asked warily, worried deeply about what he'd just gotten his fiancé wrapped-up in.
"I have no idea what he's doing to do." Victor shrugged, "It's been 16 years since I last saw him. My relationship with my mother became strained after that, and we only occasionally talked on the phone after Yakov pulled me. After a while, she stopped returning my calls, so I stopped making them. I'm not even sure if she was still married to my father when she died. It doesn't really matter anyway."
Yuri wasn't sure how to respond to that. His mind raced, and he drew in a deep, wordless breath.
Victor turned his eyes towards him and tried to smile, "Promise you won't do anything stupid if he tries, Yuri."
"I can't just do nothing."
"If the years have been kind to him, he's bigger than both of us put together. You could say he was once the poster-child for Russian bear-wrestling. He could break us both in half if he wanted." He said, and pulled his arms back so he could gently touch his fingers to the side of his beloved's neck and jaw, "I've let you follow me this far...please, Yuri, don't make me regret it."