CHAPTER SIXTY NINE
Viktor was still stunned, even though numerous questions had been asked and answered since the one he'd considered the bomb-shell. Yuri noticed him being a space-cadet and waved a hand in front of his face to bring him back. He shook his head and drew in a breath, "...She wanted to leave him." He whispered, listening to what he considered meaningless details about further in the past than he was interested in, "After all that time."
"Why?" Yuri whispered back curiously.
"I think they're getting to that."
[...was always a contentious issue, but she never let it go. An obedient wife does as her husband commands. I commanded she stop watching figure skating. She refused. God's law is the Final Law and I reminded her what her place was.] Konstantin was saying.
Yurio was immediately in front of Viktor at that point, both hands on his chest to keep him where he was, which surprised both Viktor and Yuri.
"...What was that for?" Yuri wondered quietly.
"Dumbass just admitted to beating his wife." Yurio explained.
Viktor's momentary shock at the blond's actions had lapsed and his was grinding his teeth in simmering fury.
[Can you explain exactly what you mean by that?] The lawyer asked.
[The wife is to submit to the husband, as the husband submits to God alone. Those who do not submit are punished.]
[You don't need to explain religion to me, Mr. Konstantin, only your specific actions. Did you hit your wife the night she left?]
[No.]
[LIAR!] Viktor yelled out, held back only by both Yuris doing their best to keep him rooted, [WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER!?]
[I never once laid a hand on Tatiyana.] Konstantin continued firmly, [Although I would have been well within my right to do so if I had.]
[Please explain then what you did that made her want to flee in a blizzard.]
[You'll notice there is no television here.] The man held his hand out, [But the stand where it would've been is present.]
Both Yuris felt Viktor's body ease up a little bit under his many layers, though they still held him down where they had him. Yuri saw the gesture the gruff old man had made and furrowed his brow as he tried to piece together his understanding of what it meant.
[I caught her watching skating for the last time. She had put on a documentary program about Viktor. So I took the television outside and threw it in the pond.]
The group could practically hear the echoes of the argument bouncing off the walls of the small wooden house, followed by the jingle of keys and the slam of a door. Viktor was clearly shaken, [I always knew you were the reason why she cut me off...] He started, quietly, [I always knew it was because of you...but to hear you admit it like this, in your own words...]
[You could've quit your dancing and come home anytime. You did this to her.]
[Oh! This is MY fault!?] Viktor barked, barely held back now, [ALL I DID WAS SKATE. I thought one day you'd be proud of my accomplishments! FIVE TIME consecutive champion at EVERY MAJOR INTERNATIONAL COMPETITION ON THIS EARTH! FIVE! I EVEN WON GOLD FOR RUSSIA AT THE OLYMPICS! But you!? You didn't care at all! You've spent your whole life SO hung-up on ONE embarrassing moment from CHILDHOOD that you wouldn't allow anyone else to enjoy something that's been part of Russian culture FOR OVER THREE THOUSAND YEARS.]
The bear's eyes narrowed, but he stayed quiet.
[If you hadn't grown up to be the biggest man in the town, your inane hatred for skating would've made you a laughing-stock.] Viktor finally righted himself and adjusted where his coat and scarf had become disheveled, then pulled away and headed back towards the door, feet stomping as he went. The door was yanked open roughly, [BOTH OF YOU, OUT.]
Yuri just stood there in a confused stupor, so the teen grabbed his wrist and pulled him quickly from the hovel, realizing the Asian had no idea what had been said...or maybe mostly that Viktor didn't realize he was still speaking in Russian. Viktor slammed the door so hard behind them that the handle broke, and then continued to stomp off through the snow in a fury.
Mikhail even noticed from where he'd been in the graveyard, his head peeking up from where he'd had it lowered in front of his sister's grave marker. He rubbed his nose and eyes quickly before standing and heading over to find out what Chernobyl-level meltdown had just taken place.
Yuri tried to go after his husband but Yurio held him back, still holding to where he'd grabbed his wrist a minute before, "Viktor!"
"Let him go. He needs a bit to himself."
"But-"
"He doesn't need you smothering him all the time!"
"But I-"
"If he wanted you all over him right now then why didn't he drag you off himself!?" Yurio barked, "He doesn't!"
"That's cruel." Mikhail said, stepping closer to them as Yuri was on the verge of tears, "Even if you're right, you didn't need to say it like that." He gestured with one hand to the Asian, and gave a look, "Apologize."
Yurio was gritting his teeth.
"Sometimes people are too proud to ask for help when they need it! Remember!?" Yuri finally blurted out, the tears falling from his eyes, "But I know him and I know what he needs without him having to ask!" He pushed his way past and started chasing after his partner, leaving the two alone at the fork in the path.
Mikhail and Yurio watched him clamber through the snow until he vanished past the two cars parked at the bottom of the hill. The elder cleared his throat a little.
"Don't say a word. I already know." Yurio grumbled to himself.
Yuri could see where Viktor had gone, following along the fence-line where a thick section of the forest had been allowed to continue growing. He'd rounded a corner just before the entrance to the more populated part of the small hamlet, and was heading east along the dirt road.
...East...towards the steel mill...
He finally caught sight of the man; Viktor had gotten rather far in the short time he'd been running. Yuri went as quickly as he could to catch up, calling out his name as he got closer. Viktor finally turned around as he heard Yuri's feet crunching in the snow close behind him, and he held his arms open for his husband to crash into him. He stroked the raven-black hair to soothe him.
"Yuri..."
The younger figure lifted his head, still trying to catch his breath.
"Why are you crying...?"
"Why...why are you running!?" Yuri panted, "Stammi vicnino, right!? Non te ne andare, ho paura di perderti!" His Italian accent was atrocious, but Viktor knew what he was trying to say anyway.
"Partiamo insieme."
He was so relieved to hear those words, Yuri nearly collapsed right there, though Viktor held him up, took his ringed hand, and moved to make him run again. A single fossilized car passed them along the road before Viktor made a B-line for the interior of the woods after it was gone, dragging Yuri behind him. They'd run so far after that, that they were both huffing and puffing to catch their breath once Viktor finally stopped.
"...So...so what'd...he say..." Yuri asked, red-faced from the exertion, "...What'd...YOU say?"
"Their...last fight was over...over me..." Viktor answered, leaning with his back against a tree, "He...Konstantin took...the television...and threw it in the pond...cuz she..." He coughed a little, "Cuz she was watching some skate show about...me..."
"So he didn't...hit her after all...?"
"That's what he says...at least..."
There was silence after that as they finished catching their breath...feeling hot from the rush, but cold as ice again from the northern winter weather. Viktor kicked the snow a little bit before reaching down to grab a handful and form it into a ball, then chucking it at a thick tree some 20 paces away. It exploded on impact, leaving a small white smudge where the snow had stuck to the bark. Yuri did the same thing after, but hitting a different tree...almost. He had to throw a second snowball to finally hit the thing. Viktor couldn't help but smile at that, and together, they made it their mission to make sure every tree, no matter how big or small, had been walloped with snowball smudges. By the time they were done, they were out of breath again.
"...Feel better now?" Yuri wondered, crouching down in front of where Viktor had cleared off an old tree stump to sit down, and leaning into him with his arms wrapping around the man's chest, both of them still heaving for air.
"...A little..." The Russian answered, patting Yuri's head before leaving his hand weakly where it landed.
"I wonder how...long we've been gone...?" The younger man lifted his head, resting his chin on Viktor's scarf as he was leaning back.
"Probably not more than 20 minutes."
"We should head back."
"You keep making me go back to that mess. You should stop."
"Only because, at some point, when we leave again, we won't have to go back." Yuri explained, pulling up again to stand, and forcing Viktor up with him. He had that determined look in his eyes, as though trying to say 'we can do this' without speaking the words.
Viktor couldn't help but kiss him for it...and then drop a small ball of snow down the back of his coat, "Snega v pal'to~!" He laughed, bounding off the way they came as Yuri was frantically trying to get the icy block out of his clothing.
.
.
.
As they were walking back, the car that the lawyer's group had driven up in stopped alongside them, the window rolling down in front, [Mr. Nikiforov...we weren't sure when you'd turn up again so I gave everything to your uncle. We'll be in touch.]
[I'm moving to Japan next week...can I give you the address?]
[Yes, that would be helpful. Here...] She said, turning around to withdraw a paper and pen from her leather bag, [Write it here with your name and I'll see to it that future correspondence goes to you. Put your phone number as well, please.]
Viktor handed it right over to Yuri, "Put the address to Yu-Topia, if you don't mind."
"No, sure..." He answered, quickly writing it down before handing it back, "Here."
"Spasibo," The Russian quickly scrawled his contact info on the paper as well and then returned the items to their owner.
[Great,] The lawyer answered, putting them back into her bag, [Our review process won't take long. We'll be in touch soon.]
"Do svidanija." Viktor nodded, waving as the window rolled up again and the car moved on down the dirt road.
"Well, at least this means we're done here."
"...Almost." The Russian said quietly, starting to walk again, and pulling Yuri gently along where he once again held his hand in his coat pocket.
Soon, they were passing Viktor's car again at the base of the hill, and in turn, passed where Mikhail was waiting with Yurio. The Russian paused though, seeing Konstantin up in the graveyard where he himself had intended to go, and he let go of Yuri's hand.
"Go wait with the others. I'll be right there."
"Viktor..."
He shook his head, "Not this time." He spun Yuri around where he stood and gently pushed him towards the car, then turned off as well and started walking up the hill.
Mikhail went around to collect the nervous skater to make sure he wouldn't give chase; he had need of Yuri anyway.
Viktor anxiously walked up the hill and made the left turn, stepping up to the iron wrought gate to the small graveyard. Crosses dated back generations, but the stone marker that noted his mother's plot was an angel in prayer.
Konstantin didn't acknowledge him as he stepped up, and Viktor kept a safe distance, looking at the angel's face as though wishing it was Tatiyana's, just so he could know what she looked like at the end...before the end. He remembered what the accident had done to her, and so he'd blocked out everything he could except the look and feel of her long, wavy, silvery hair.
[You broke my door.]
The skater flinched a little, but stayed where he was; his left eye twitching, [You broke my face.]
[You broke my nose.]
[...You broke my face.]
There was an awkward silence between them.
[Mikhail told you, that shit.]
[Yes.]
[He and his sister were little scoundrels as kids. He was the first and foremost to taunt me after the incident.]
Viktor was a little surprised to hear it. Mikhail had never once confessed to his part in the childhood humiliation of his father.
[But...that wasn't the only reason I hated skating. Just the first one.] Konstantin said with a shrug, [In this place, you're strong, or you die. A man who couldn't work in the steel mill wasn't really a man at all. You had such a passion for skating that I thought it would make you weak.]
[I was never meant for the mill.]
[Seems the Lord had a different plan for you, right from the day you first cried out into this world.] He stood up, making Viktor take a step away, but he stayed still in front of the grave marker, [And I was a fool to try and make you deviate from it.]
[...Why the sudden about-face?] Viktor wondered cautiously.
[You broke my door.] He answered simply, [I've slammed that door a hundred times and never broke it...but you did. Only my son could do that.]
[Hmph...you loosened it for me.]
The gruff older man huffed a little, moving his hand to withdraw his vodka flask and take a small swig from it before putting it back, [I prayed long and hard, begging God for years to tell me why He took you from me, to put you into skating instead of inheriting my place here. I was never sure you'd make it as an athlete...so much competition, and with so many others working hard as well, if you weren't lucky, you'd have failed. At the mill, at least, if you worked hard, you'd get your due. There was no risk.]
Viktor wasn't sure how to answer that.
[But the Lord granted you the power to win in spite of everything. You came from nothing, and were granted a few years where you got to bask in His Glory with your achievements.]
He wanted to tell Konstantin about all the years of training, blood, sweat, and tears, heartbreak, and disappointment that went into getting to the top...but he supposed...a man who was so convinced that a deity was responsible for all of it in the end wouldn't appreciate the sentiment, so he kept it to himself.
[Now that I've accepted God's plan for you...I feel an overwhelming sense of regret. For driving you from home, and for quarreling with my wife...an argument that would eventually make God want to call her home. I've lost everything except the mill...that horrible Hell that I wanted you to join me in. It's all I have left now.]
[Maybe this point here is how it was meant to be all along.] Viktor suggested, willing to meet his father half-way.
[Mh...God wanted to teach me humility, I suppose. The more I fought against His Will, the more He sought to teach me.] He turned and looked at his son for the first time, [It took almost 20 years, but I think I've finally learned.]
[...So...you don't hate me?]
[I can't accept that you lie with another man, so don't ask me to. But...the skating...] He looked up at the sky, [That's God's work...and I suppose that makes it beautiful.]
Viktor forced himself to hold his ground as he saw his father turn on his heels and start walking towards him, but he couldn't stop himself from clenching his eyes shut as the man reached for him.
Mikhail was holding Yuri down with a hand over his mouth as they watched from the car, not knowing what had been said. Yuri flailed terribly.
The Russian felt that large, callused hand come up under his bangs and cup around the side of his head. He opened his right eye to see those blue eyes staring back at him, and felt the man's thumb circling around his eye. Oddly, as rough as Konstantin's skin was, he felt around with a gentleness that Viktor didn't know a steel worker could manage. When it was done, Konstantin moved his hand away and pat his son on the shoulder twice before stepping off again.
[You look just like her.]