CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY TWO
Even though the sun had come up ages ago, the curtains were still drawn, blocking the light from coming into the room. Enough glowed around the edges though to illuminate the small space with a thin break through the dark and gloom. By then, Viktor had told all he could think to tell. He'd shown the photos, recounted the memories that had gone with them, extrapolated into the tales that grew out of them, and had given up as much detail as his mind could give him, given how he'd tried so hard to forget in the first place.
He was leaning back against his partner, head against Yuri's chest, holding his phone in landscape view as he slid through the different pictures he'd taken. He slowly lowered it until it was face-down on his own chest, reaching to settle his left arm around where Yuri had raised his knee against his side, the right going up to rub his eyes a little.
The younger figure had rested his arms over his silver husband's shoulders, forefingers lightly hooked together just under his collarbone. He had leaned his head back against the padded headboard as the tale really sank in, looking up at the ceiling like he'd bit off more than he could chew.
"...I don't even know what to say." Yuri said in a hushed tone, "...Everything that happened...and you haven't even told me yet about how you handled it after Yakov took you away." He tilted his face down, and leaned forward a little as he hugged the man, pressing the side of his cheek into silver-grey hair, "Last year, at Rostelecom, when you had to go back to Hasetsu for Makkachin... You told me that if I ever felt like I was in trouble, I should hug Yakov, and he'd help me...but it just confused me. I hadn't even seen you do it yourself, but now it all makes sense. It must go all the way back to then..."
The Russian just leaned his head into the hug, quietly rubbing his cheek against raven-black hair, "Yeah."
"After leaving things off on such a low note with your father though," The younger skater went on, "I...can't help but wonder, if you have any good memories of him...?"
Viktor thought back again, but then shook his head, "I'm sure there must've been, before...but now I can't recall. Even the bulk of memories I have of Uncle Mimi are kind of scattered." He admitted with a deep breath, "I mostly just remember the idea of him. It's like thinking back and feeling like this person you cared so much about...was really just some imaginary friend you had. Someone you'd made up because you were just so lonely, and then someone took it all away from you by convincing you that he wasn't real. That heartbreak though...he was real, and he left, and I thought I was going to die because it hurt so much."
"It's like your father just didn't exist though, the way you tell it." Yuri pointed out, turning his eyes to see the man a little better before pulling back to lean against the headboard again and stroking silver-grey hair where it brushed over his skin, "Even after Mikhail disappeared, it seemed like it was just you and your mom."
The Russian sighed a little, reaching to his forehead to rub a sore spot that he knew would turn into a headache later, "I feel like I could see him, standing on the peripheries like some shadow... But the only things that ever really stuck out were the bad things. Even remembering how he'd tell me to get off the pond...I can't remember the specifics of it that well...but you heard me go into pretty stark detail about the day he made me burn my skates."
"...I feel like I was there." Yuri admitted, "Like some ghost that couldn't do anything except watch. My heart still hurts from hearing about it. But..."
Slate eyes turned back a little, "But?"
"Knowing how you never forgot that moment, and how you kept going with it even after everything that happened. Other people probably would've stopped skating entirely if they'd gone through the same thing you had. They'd have given up because of how horrible it had been before. Not you though..." Yuri explained, running his fingers through the man's bangs lightly, "I think you're probably the strongest person I know. I don't know that I could've managed the same way you did."
Viktor blinked slowly a few times before lowering his eyes again, closing them and shaking his head lightly, "I waffled. Right after the hit, while Yakov was still trying to figure out what to do with me...I kept going back and forth between wanting to quit so I could go back, and hope my father would forgive me and l could come home...but then I'd tell myself that it wasn't worth it, that it was too painful, and all I wanted to do was run as far away as I could. When Yakov pulled the car over to check on me, and called me Vivi like my mother had...I made up my mind in that moment that I would never look back. Vivi was dead...I was a new person after that, and he honored my wishes to move on by giving me a new name...Vitya."
"Wow..."
"After that, every encounter with my father that came up was just one more negative memory to add to the long list." He went on, "I'd hear him ranting and raving in the background of phone calls, so I slowly stopped taking them. My mother would send letters or post cards, and I'd slowly stop answering them. Yakov never let me send them myself, and I never really cared that there was a reason, but when I was older, he told me it was because he never wanted Konstantin to know where we lived. He'd send the letters from a box at the post office so our address would never show on the envelopes."
"You said last year that you and your mom stopped talking to each other because she was the one who stopped reaching out..." Yuri recalled, "As though she'd stopped caring."
"I don't know that I was lying at the time." Viktor answered quietly, fingers pawing at the edges of his phone, "At least...not on purpose. I remember how I felt when Yakov first texted me about the whole situation...and it was just a lot of anger and resentment. I think I blamed her for vanishing because I had such a high opinion of myself, that I couldn't conceive of actually being the one to blame. I was always nice to my fans...why wouldn't I be to my own mother?"
"It's a little different with family." The younger figure offered, "You carry their thoughts and feelings with you even when you're apart."
"The last time I let that happen was probably my lowest point." The Russian said, feeling a little tense as he mentioned it, "I was so shaken up by what I'd done with those feelings that I felt like I'd committed a crime."
"What do you mean?"
"Back in St. Petersburg, when I was talking about my past girlfriends." He answered nervously, "The Ice Dancer that I said I'd had a fling with...it wasn't entirely innocent fun. Right before then, my mother had sent a post-card or something, and I called her... But there was my father again, ranting and raving in the background, saying I was no better than some male prostitute because of the skating... I was so angry about it that I went to my next competition thinking I had to prove that he was wrong. The Ice Dancer was less a fling, and more like...a victim of my wounded pride and malice. I used her to make a point. I didn't actually care about her, and when I got what I wanted, I didn't care that I'd destroyed her relationship with her skating partner. At least, not until I was heading back home again...then it all weighed on me like a ton of bricks. I realized that what I'd done was the worst thing I'd ever done. I made someone else feel the pain that I was feeling because I didn't know how else to deal with it."
"You realized your mistake pretty quickly though..." Yuri offered, though still feeling a slight twinge.
"I never forgave myself for it...but I did my best to make sure it never happened again. I just made the opposite mistake when I met Sophia later instead." He huffed a disappointed sigh.
"The opposite...?" Yuri raised a skeptical brow.
"I went from caring too little to caring too much." Viktor said flatly, "I made that relationship entirely about her. Everything I wanted or needed got put on the back-burner, so it hurt a lot when she cut me off after I'd made so many personal and professional sacrifices to be with her. Then when I was with that groupie...it was all about me again, but not because I wanted it to be. It was just this really messed up situation where it felt like I was dating a butler and a jailer at the same time. Everything was either for me or it was my fault." He shuddered a little at the memory of it before rising up, setting his phone aside, and flipping over. The blankets went up with him, and he looked into his husband's eyes briefly before lowering himself down again to put his cheek where the back of his head had been a moment before, wedging his arms into the pillows under the man's back so he could hold onto him, "Being with you now...it's like I can breathe."
Yuri wasn't sure how to answer to all that, so he just stayed quiet for the moment and went back to gently stroking his partner's hair, setting his free hand on Viktor's back and rubbing a thumb back and forth slowly, soothingly.
The Russian went on, "I get everything I could possibly need or want...but you let me give back, too." He explained factually, "More importantly, you don't take things from me. I can be who I am without having to make big sacrifices for the sake of us. The handful of big things that did change...didn't even seem like sacrifices."
"...Like what?"
"Giving up skating for most of a season to be your coach. Moving to Hasetsu, and leaving St. Petersburg behind. Dealing with the occasional fall-out of being in love with another man rather than a woman." Viktor explained, then lifting his eyes again to see his husband more clearly, "These things I did gladly, because it meant I got to be with you. Every little thing I did, was one step closer to you...and to my happiness."
Yuri's cheeks got a bit pink, but hearing it made his smile fade, and he just felt a bit sad instead, "You've gone through a lot of pain and suffering because of me too though."
"My father is not your fault." Viktor insisted, turning his head back down again and hugging his partner a little tighter, "It was all there long before you...and I'm hoping, that by the end of the weekend, he might even acknowledge the cruelties he inflicted on me and others...maybe even apologize for them. I would never have gotten to this point if it hadn't been for you. ...You say I'm the strongest person you know...but I've needed your strength more than you probably realize."
The unpleasant feeling in Yuri's gut dissolved quickly to hear those words, and he reached his arms around the man's head to hug him close against his chest, recalling a few specific words from what felt like a lifetime ago, "Whatever lies ahead, good or bad, we will face together. Distance may test us for a time, and time may try us, but if we look to each other first, we will always see a friend. Look to me...for all the days to come..."
'Today...I take my place as your husband.'
The memory of it was as clear as crystal. Viktor could hear himself saying the words like they'd just come out of him a moment before. He turned his face in towards his partner's chest, holding there tightly for a moment before pushing up to sit on the side of his hip. He held himself up with one hand in the sheets as the other reached forward to cup around his husband's cheek, feeling a tear roll down his own to fall off his chin, "You did it again, you know. Just now."
"Did what?" Yuri asked, feigning ignorance as he leaned into the man's palm.
"Made me fall in love with you."
"You really should keep a record."
"It would go to the moon and back again already by now." Viktor purred, leaning in to nuzzle his husband affectionately. Two quick kisses, and he was back to leaning against the man's chest, pressing his forehead to the side of Yuri's neck as his hand against that beating heart.
.
.
.
The Sapporo Beer Museum had lived up to its name in spades. From the outside, it looked like an old brewery; two stories tall and built from century-old red brick, even sporting three stacked rows of barrels with kanji written on them in place of a regular sign out front. There was a massively-tall chimney on the right side of the rear building with 'Sapporo Beer' written vertically in katakana on several faces, a red star at the top of each column. Winter-killed barren vines crawled all over the outside of the establishment, making the building look even older. Snow was two feet deep where a path hadn't been cleared, leading up to a big snow-sculpture, and the grounds were dotted with an assortment of different trees.
"...What is it?" Viktor wondered, looking at the 'mascot' awkwardly.
The 'sculpture' was one big round snowball with a smaller one stacked up on top, and black discs put in place of buttons on the front, with eyes in the face, and three rectangular plates alongside, two for eyebrows and one for the mouth. Two wads of snow on top looked like rounded ears. On the sides of the big snowball were two protrusions that could be called arms, small as they were. Beneath it all was a big block of snow shaped like a slab, holding the 'mascot' about four feet off the ground.
"...Is it a bear?" Yuri wondered, tilting his head a little like it would make any difference. He pulled his free hand up to rub his chin, the other wrapped around the Russian's back, "...A cat maybe?"
"It's a mystery~!" Viktor mused, pulling his partner along where he had an arm draped over his shoulders.
Within, there was a long series of halls featuring displays from the bygone era; long, half-transparent displays of tree photos from the brewery's summers, two crystalline panels featuring the brewery's founders from the late 1800s, various bottles of vintage beer, and assorted photos from the local area throughout the decades. There was a domed display that they walked through, the interior walls of which were plastered with stacked rings of imagery showing the various simple ingredients of beer; yeast on the bottom, barley above it, then hops, and finally the sunny sky at the top of the dome. In several display-jars, there were examples of those very items, with a few of them having lids to open to smell a sample, or taste one from the pour-bottles.
Viktor was thoroughly enthusiastic about it all, which was refreshing, if not odd to see, considering the topic of the early morning hours. But, seeing the Russian excited about something eased Yuri's worries about what would likely come later.
We have to take our joy where we can, I guess. This weekend is going to be a rollercoaster. I'm so glad Hasetsu is our next stop...
He glanced around the room, looking at the two long display cases flanking the raised dome display, then back at Viktor.
We're going to need to soak in the onsen for days when we're done here... We'll be able to go home, sleep in our own bed, skate in our own rink, and Makkachin will be there, too. We haven't seen that poor creature in over a month now...he's probably worried sick.
"Look! Yuri!" Viktor suddenly said, getting the skater's attention again where he'd gone ahead to look at something, "These bottles date all the way back to the first batches this place ever made!"
The raven-haired figure stepped forward, sliding his fingers through the Russian's before seeing what he was pointing at. As told, there were three bottles there on display beneath the glass, dating to 1878, 1881, and 1883 respectively.
"I wonder if beer ages like wine." He asked hesitantly, "...Or maybe it's really gross now."
"Oh, it's for sure gross by now." The Russian explained, as though aghast at the idea of sampling it, "Once it's in a bottle, you're supposed to drink it pretty soon." He turned back to looking at the date plates, unable to read the Japanese text that accompanied them, "It'll sit for maybe a week or two, but if you don't drink it around then, it'll start to go stale. Some places, like in Belgium, they'll age their stock in oak barrels for two years...but again, once it's in the bottles, it needs to ship. These things probably taste like dust by now, even with the dark glass protecting it from light."
"You're like an encyclopedia of random knowledge, Viktor."
"I've made home-brew before." He answered happily, "Like when I mull wine. It's just been a long time."
Yuri brought his free hand up to his cheek at the fond memory of it, "You make really good mulled wine, too. I can't wait to get back...you should make some for Phichit-kun."
"Okay~"
The lunch crowd filled almost the entire Beer Garden half of the building, even spilling into the second floor where normally only large, reserved groups would be seated. The moment Viktor stepped into sight of the main area, it was clear why there were so many people filling the building, as heads turned and clapping rose from many patrons. Viktor pulled his husband closer, pressing his cheek to the side of the man's head fondly, waving back at the fans before passing through to where their table awaited them.
"Wow~!" He called, hands up excitedly as the big Mongolian-style grill plate was set in front of them, a small cube of butter melting on the top of it. Chopsticks in-hand, he started piling up the fancy, thin-sliced meat, sprouts, and cabbage that were on separate plates all around the table.
The beer sampler came after that, and Viktor looked like he was in Heaven. There were three medium-sized glass cups, set within three cut alcoves in a small wooden crate-holder. One was pale yellow-golden and clear, the center one was practically black, and the last one on the right was opaque yellow-orange, each one with typical foamy beer-froth on top. The Russian happily sipped at the first one while Yuri was starting to pull the first round of foodables off the black grill-mound, setting it all onto a shared plate between them. There were several small dishes around it, each with a different kind of dipping sauce.
Yuri clapped his hands together in front of himself, getting his partner's attention and watching him do the same thing, then both saying together, "Itadakimaaaaaasu~"
Then, the 'Nomageddon' began.
...And then it prematurely ended, at least for Yuri. He held a piece of sliced pork in his chopsticks, the end of it dipped in one of the sauces, but his eyes were fixed ahead, staring at something beyond Viktor's shoulder.
"...What's wrong? Why'd you stop?" The silver skater asked, giving him a weird look, "Do I have something on my face?" He grabbed out his phone and set it to selfie-mode just to check; satisfied there was nothing there, he clicked it off and put it away again, reaching for the dark-colored beer and setting it against his lip, "...You're being weird!"
"...Uh, don't look now, but...it's Mikhail."
PFFFFFFT
Yuri wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry, or just gasp...but there was beer-spray all over his face and glasses, and he froze, the pork bit still sitting tip-down in sauce where it had been a moment before.
Viktor roughly set the glass down into its holster in the crate and pounded lightly on his chest with the thumb-side of his fist, trying not to choke, but then quickly stood up and grabbed a handful of napkins as he went to the other side of the table. He laughed quietly and tried to clean away the mess he'd made, pulling his husband's glasses off first and then wiping at the man's face, "Sorry!" He whispered.
"Oh, hey you two!" Minako called unexpectedly, waving at the pair from where she'd popped up next to her date, "I didn't think we'd see you here so soon!"
"M-Minako-sensei..." Yuri grimaced, eyes following the woman as she got closer, dragging Mikhail behind her, "I-If you guys are here...then where's..."
"Ah!" She reached over the plastic dividing wall that kept them in the waiting area, "We don't speak his name here."
"Hah?" Viktor wondered, a bit stunned, paused in his progress, "...But...where is h-"
"Nope." Mikhail followed, making a motion like he was zipping his own mouth shut, "Out of sight, out of mind. Try to enjoy yourselves. We plan to."
The two confused and nervous skaters watched their non-skating counterparts go past, and get seated in some other part of the Beer Garden, going about their business like nothing had happened. They glanced from the older pair back to each other, looking around the whole area just to be sure, and then heaved a sigh of relief.
"He's not here."