CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT

There was no point in goodbyes so soon after the Gala, not with the post-event Banquet later that evening anyway. The skating duo reunited with the non-skating trio and headed back to the event hotel to drop things off before leaving for a much-deserved celebration.

Yuri was still bouncing off the walls with excitement about the whole thing, letting his gold dangle around his neck for all to see. It warmed Viktor's heart to see Yuri so proud of himself, even if it still stung to know he'd had to settle for silver to see it. Still, there were things that needed to be done, so while Yuri was, for lack of better terms, dancing with himself in an open space in the lobby, Viktor was dealing with the concierge service.

"Yes, we'll be back to pick everything up around midnight." He explained, handing off the last of their competition luggage to be bundled with the things that were already in storage since their pre-Gala check-out. Once he got his confirmation ticket, he pocketed it and started heading for the doors, waving to his partner, "Yuri! Let's go! I wanna bust my dog out of jail, and I'm starving!"

The Triple-Ms were waiting outside for them. As Viktor and Yuri came back out through the rotating doors, a slick black vehicle was pulling into the pick-up lane. Neither of them had any idea what was going on though, so they immediately made a B-line for the nearest shuttle to take them to wherever they were going for dinner.

"Not so fast." Mikhail said, holding up a hand in a stopping gesture, "Where are you going?"

"...On...the...van-thing? To get Makkachin?" Yuri answered cautiously, one foot already on board. He glanced back at the equally-confused Viktor, "Why's he questioning us?" Yuri whispered.

The Russian shrugged, "Where are you going?" He asked back, "Are we walking somewhere? The boarding facility won't be open all night...I have to get Makkachin now, remember?"

Minako and Mari were having a hard time containing their excitement, and they rushed back to a long black limousine as the driver was getting out to open the doors, "Our chariot for the evening!"

The pair looked at one another awkwardly, "A limo? Isn't that a bit much?"

"For champions who've won so much prize money over the last year, I don't think so." Mikhail said, stepping back to go towards the now-open door, "But you guys can always walk if you want to."

Once again, they glanced at one another strangely. They turned around, and Yuri leaned in to whisper, "I don't think he knows how little of it we actually get to keep in the end..."

"You get to keep a lot more than others do." Viktor pointed out.

"What? Why?"

"Cuz I'm only charging you a symbolic cost for coaching fees, not real money."

"...You make a lot of money as it is." The younger jabbed.

"That's only because I have a track record and a lot of sponsors and supporters, and I did a lot of other work besides skating to earn an income. You'll start to see that soon too, now that you've won another gold medal."

"...What else were you doing?" Yuri quirked a brow, thinking the worst.

"The posters you still won't show me?"

Yuri's face turned red, "...What about them."

"I got paid for those photos." Viktor stood fully upright again after that, listing opportunities off on his fingers, "Modeling, interviews, endorsements...the whole bit."

"You weren't doing anything like that while you were coaching me though."

"That's cuz I was in Japan, away from all the studios and customers who would normally ask for me."

"You weren't doing that stuff when we were in St. Petersburg either!"

"The huge box of mail that you helped me push inside the house when we first got there was full of requests. I had to turn most of them down or postpone them. I had to get ready for Worlds, plus the whole 'I got hit in the face and my eyeball was bloody' thing." Viktor put his hand against Yuri's lower back, "How've you been paying for things up till now? You don't have a huge debt, do you?"

"My family." The younger skater deadpanned, as though his answer was the most obvious thing in the world...but then thought better of it when he remembered Viktor's situation, "...The...yeah. Them. They paid for it. I've never really..."

The Russian tilted his head, but then laughed and put his arm over Yuri's shoulders to guide him over to the limo, "Don't worry, don't worry! Now that you've won so much this season, I don't doubt that you'll get all kinds of opportunities before next season starts! You got a bunch of new sponsors after the Grand Prix and Four Continents, so as a World Champion, the sky's the limit! Plus you're cute, so that helps a lot."

Yuri's face flushed as he heard the words, and took a deep breath as he passed Mikhail to get into the back seat of the limousine. The scenery inside was a stark contrast to how he was used to traveling...it reminded him of the transition Viktor had forced on him to travel in first or business class on planes rather than economy. But, he'd eventually come around to agreeing with the change, as it was a lot easier for him to rest while they flew when he wasn't being crushed in a tiny little seat, trying to sleep while upright with a neck pillow. Never mind the fact that it was always easier to sleep when he was able to curl up with Viktor, and that was only possible in the much larger first/business class international travel seats. It had gotten to a point where Yuri wondered how he was ever able to compete before the Russian had come into his life, since he felt so much better physically and emotionally now that he was.

Who am I kidding? Before Viktor, I wasn't really competing anyway...I was just physically present.

As the Russian settled into the plush leather seat next to him, Yuri looked back to watch the other three come in after them. Mari took one of the side-facing seats, while Minako and Mikhail took their own rear-facing seats near the front. Mikhail pulled his hat and scarf off to get more comfortable in the climate-controlled vehicle, and leaned his head up to open the small sliding panel that gave him access to the driver.

"We're all ready, let's go."

"Yessir, Mr. Rozovsky."

The panel slid closed again and the group could feel the vehicle starting to move.

Viktor had taken notice of something at that point though, "...Uncle, what...did you do to your hair?"

The elder Russian looked a bit surprised, but then laughed nervously, "Oh right...Minako did this between your Gala performances."

The woman next to him was all excited that someone had noticed now that the hat was off, "It took a while to get the part to stay, but now he really looks like you!"

"I tried to tell her it would seem creepy..." Mikhail insisted, looking up to blow some of the bangs out of his left eye where the new style had let them fall, "But...well, here we are."

"Well, no one can say we aren't related...the resemblance is eerie, especially now."

Yuri was looking between them, "...Yeah."

Viktor reassuringly squeezed Yuri's leg where he had a hand resting on it between them, "At least you know what you've bought into for the long haul. I won't look much different from him when I'm his age."

The younger skater suddenly got really nervous, thinking about his own parents in their ripe ages, "Oh no..." He started to panic, "If I look like my dad..." He spun around, "Viktor, I'm so sorry! I'm not going to be cute when I'm old!" Comical tears were forming in his eyes, "Please don't leave me!"

The group was laughing at the youngest member's expense, but Viktor mussed his hair and shrugged, "In my mind's eye, you'll always look like you do now. And besides, we'll get old at the same time, so maybe we won't even notice the changes. ...And you really don't look that much like your father anyway."

It made Yuri feel a little better to hear those words, and he let his pounding heart calm some.

"You look more like your mom."

"VIKTOR."

Mari and Minako were in tears laughing.

"Welp, anyway, I've been wanting to do this all night, so let's get started!" Mikhail said, clapping his hands down on his knees as he knelt forward to the limousine's small interior fridge, pulling out a small jug of orange juice, and a bottle of champagne from a bucket of ice that neither of the skaters had noticed till then. He handed them both to Minako, and then rummaged around for five champagne flutes, mixing the drinks and dispensing one each to everyone in the cabin, "So! A toast! To precious metals and precious people! Kanpaaaaai!"

Yuri was surprised to hear Japanese from the old man, but he smiled and lifted his glass, "Kanpai!"

"Kanpaaaai!" The rest joined in, clinking their glasses together before drinking.

.

.

.

Instagram was being flooded by multiple accounts as events of the night unfolded. The special Italian dinner, the poodle bouncing around excitedly before falling asleep under the large table, the drinking, the removal of particular articles of clothing as a certain person whose name shall not be mentioned reminded everyone how he couldn't hold his alcohol, and the slow return to calm as he half-fell-asleep at the table afterwards.

Viktor was starting to regret that he'd already checked them out of their hotel room.

"What are we going to do about the Banquet?" Yuri asked, head on the table and red-faced from the champagne and mimosas. His voice was something of a happy slur, similar to how he'd sounded at the Sochi Banquet, but...slightly more subdued.

"We don't have to go..."

"They'll notice we aren't there, though, right?"

"Oh yeah, they'll notice." Viktor confirmed, gently stroking Yuri's back where he was hunched over, holding his own head up with his free hand where the elbow was propped up on the table, "But we still don't have to go, if you'd rather just head to the airport and sleep this off before the flight."

"...I was gonna sleep on the flight..." Yuri explained, "But I dunno...if I'll make it that...lo...nnhh..." He was out where he sat, and it made Viktor smile.

"Man down." The Russian mused.

"Ahhh Yuri, what are we gonna do with you?" Mari wondered with a sigh, "You weren't even drinking anything serious..."

"Don't worry, I'm training him." Viktor reassured, "I've gotten him up to actual wine and cream liqueur."

"Ooooh, fancy!"

"I'm sending a bunch of stuff back to Hasestu, too." The Russian continued, "I had it shipped from Barcelona, so it should've arrived by now at Yu-Topia. Hopefully no one cracks it all open before we get there!"

"I'll make sure they don't mistake it for a shipment of their own stuff." Mari suggested, "Though I doubt they'd mix it all up. You want me to put it in your room with the rest of your stuff?"

"That should be fine. Spasibo."

"It's gonna be weird when that banquet hall is completely empty again." Mari continued, putting her elbows on the table to hold up her head, looking down at where her little brother was snoozing, "I kinda got used to the space being taken up. The bed's still in there right now, but that's only because we knew you guys were coming back. Won't be much sense in keeping it there once you guys find a place of your own though."

"We won't be too far." Viktor explained, "We just..."

"...Need your space, I know. I'm not saying you should stay at Yu-Topia. Yuri was gone for so long while he was in Detroit, it was weird even for him to be back, and he grew up at the resort. You just happened to be in that banquet room for a long time, and also happened to have a lot of stuff!"

"Sorry!" He laughed, "I rarely travel lightly, and in that case, it was for a planned extended stay, so..." He then turned his head to his uncle, who had been relatively silent for the last little while, since he was looking at his phone, "Will you be returning to St. Petersburg or Moscow?"

Mikhail's eyes were going back and forth, as though he hadn't heard.

"Uncle?"

"...One second."

"Huh?"

The man seemed to be caught off guard by something, but he shrugged and put the phone away again, "It's nothing. I'll deal with it later. What were you saying?"

"Are you going back straight to St. Petersburg or are you going to Moscow?" Viktor was skeptical.

"My flight? Oh, it goes to Moscow. I booked it before anything about your house came up. Do you need me to change it?"

"No, it's fine, you can take your time. The Sapsan train is pretty easy to get back and forth on anyway."

"...Is that a subtle way of saying you want to close on the house with me?" Mikhail raised a brow as he nibbled on a meatball from his pasta bowl.

"I have to do something with my car, too." Viktor realized, "Not much point taking it to Japan when the public transport is as good as it is."

"You can always put it into storage. Just take all the fluids out and cover it properly."

"Ehh...I don't want to pay the fees. It'd almost be easier to sell that thing, too."

Mikhail huffed a laugh and shook his head, then set his fork down so he could encircle his face with it, "This is a guy who sells heavy machinery for a living. I could store your car easily and I won't charge you for it."

Viktor gawked at him, "...Why?"

Minako and Mari both gave an exasperated sigh and leaned back heavily into their chairs.

The skater just gawked at them, "What? What'd I say?"

The ballerina just pointed at him, "Why are you so superstitious about Mikhail? He's a good guy!"

"Nothing is ever free." He answered quietly, still gently rubbing Yuri's back as he slept, but then turned his eyes from the women back to the man, "Why would you offer so much to help me out when we barely just reunited a couple weeks ago? It all just seems weird, and oddly without obvious consequence."

"Who else am I going to fuss over?" Mikhail answered, "I have no one back home, remember?"

Viktor recalled the text messages from the night he'd taken Yuri's phone.

[My wife left me years ago and took your cousins with her.]
[So it's just me.]

"...Mh." He hummed, "How many were there?"

"...How many what?"

"Kids."

"Three. Two girls and a boy. All three are high-school aged."

"Do you still talk to them?"

"Only when their mother allows. Why are you suddenly so curious?"

"Dunno."

Mikhail was starting to get just as skeptical as his nephew, "They're in Canada. It's part of why I have a house out there. I see the kids during the summer for a few weeks and then they go back home."

"Are you not on speaking terms with your ex-wife?"

"Not particularly."

"What happened? If it's okay that I ask."

The elder Russian nodded, "She had a health scare and found religion. I found it particularly difficult to reconcile, since I was too busy thanking the doctors and nurses for curing her and she was too busy thanking her new imaginary friend for saving her, as though leukemia were punishment for some intangible crime she didn't even know she'd committed. It created a massive rift that we weren't able to bridge."

"So you don't believe?"

"Do you?"

Viktor turned his head, "I like to think there's something out there, but I'm not ready to define it the way some people do. The way my life has turned out, I could hardly subscribe to the commonly held mainstream beliefs, since most of them would condemn me to eternal torture and hellfire for how I feel." He raised his hand to stroke Yuri's hair, brushing his bangs from his eyes. He noticed then that Yuri's hair was starting to get a bit long.

"And according to those same commonly held mainstream beliefs, my wife was supposed to be my property and I could've beaten her severely for trying to leave me. My kids could've been put to death for supporting her and effectively disobeying me. Do you think that's right?"

"Of course not."

"Me neither, and for the life of me, I can't understand why Mylene would subscribe to such ideas herself. But...I would fight to the death for anyone's right to believe whatever they want, even if it seems like complete insanity to me. So instead of arguing with her and the kids about it, I stepped out of the way and signed the papers when presented to me. She was no longer the woman I married and I wasn't going to stop her from leaving."

Viktor was quiet for a while, but then leaned back in his chair, letting his hand slide down Yuri's back as he went, "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"It happened years ago. I've given up that things will ever return to how they were...but that's why I was so glad to run into you again, Viktor." Mikhail explained, "It's lonely being estranged from everyone you once loved or had family ties to. Having you back again...even if it's been rough...I'm glad of it. So...in all seriousness, if there's anything you ever need, please ask me. I'll do whatever I can. I'll make sure your car gets put into proper storage, and that your house is maintained until you decide to come back to Russia, if you ever do. I can even arrange to have your things freighted to Japan on one of my regular shipments."

"And you'd do all that for free." Viktor still seemed skeptical.

"Free for you, not for me." Mikhail laughed, "But that's fine. Like you said, nothing is ever truly free. Somehow, eventually, someone one pays for it."

The two women had watched in awkward silence as the conversation bounced back and forth.

Viktor sighed and pulled out his phone, realizing the time...7:04pm.

We've been out for nearly 3 hours. If we left now, and Yuri slept the whole time, we could still make it to the Banquet at 9. Is it really worth it though? He shook his head, knowing he was trying to distract himself from what his uncle had said. He pulled up the contact list with his thumb, Can't keep avoiding this.

"All right." He said finally, "Come to St. Petersburg. I'm texting you the house address. We'll figure out the rest once you're there." He finished typing and sent the message, which he could hear arriving on his uncle's phone a few seconds later.

Mikhail beamed to see the contact information available to him finally, and he added Viktor quickly, "All right. Sounds like a plan. Now...let's wrap things up. Where are we taking you?"

"First to the hotel to get our things, then to the airport. I'm not going to worry Yuri about being awake and aware for the Banquet."

The dog's fluffy brown ears perked up a little, but he stayed curled up on the ground where he was and continued to snooze.