CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED EIGHT FOUR

Much to their surprise, getting to the Tanuki-Koji Shopping Arcade was a lot easier and faster than they'd thought it would be. Yuri glanced up at the awning covering the entrance-way, standing near where they'd come up through the Pole Town part of the underground shopping area.

"Yeah, there it is." He said, pointing across the street, "...Feels like this city was designed for moles or something."

"Makes it comfortable to walk around at this time of year, at any rate." Viktor shrugged, "Other than some underground train lines, St. Petersburg doesn't have anything like this."

"Is the cold bothering you? I brought a hat with me if you want it."

Another shrug, "It's fine, but I'll bet my ears are getting red." He huffed a quiet laugh as he pulled his free hand up to rub the left side, "Maybe we can stop at that café before we go on."

Nodding, Yuri looked around to check for traffic before the pair hustled across the street, moving through the glass doors and dusting off the snow that had collected on their shoulders during their brief excursion through the outdoors. The younger skater went to stand in line as Viktor held back to look at the menu, squinting his eyes a little as he tried to translate the Japanese text in his head.

"...You need a hand?" Yuri looked back, taking another step closer to the register.

The Russian put a finger on his lip, "It's interesting how they mix English and Japanese together like thi-" A few flashes from the side cut off his train of thought, and blue eyes turned, looking around but not sure what the source of the light pulses was. He shrugged and turned back around again, "...Ah...what was I saying?"

"English and Japanese? Pick what you want!" Yuri said with a bit more urgency, taking another step closer to the register.

"Are you getting anything?"

The younger figure looked back at the man; only 2 patrons away from the cashier. He had his mouth open to speak, but no words came out, seeing Viktor suddenly surrounded from behind by a small mob of people.

"What is it?"

Cameras clicked and flashes sparked, finally getting the taller man's attention, and he turned his head only to be bombarded by girlish squeals and a strobe-effect of picture-taking. Caught by surprise, Viktor entirely forgot about the menu board as he turned fully around to the admiration of his small gathering.

Yuri could hear him laughing happily as the small mob of 7 descended on him officially, a few holding out their paper event programs for the Russian to sign, others holding out photos, each one holding out a sharpie of some color or another. Viktor did his best to sign everything offered to him.

The younger skater just grumbled and turned back around, practically sinking into his jacket, face half-hidden behind his plush scarf. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a red and gold fluff of fabric, and then squished most of his head inside the Calgary Flames beanie he'd been given back at Skate Canada, pulling it down past his ears on both sides. By the time he was done, aside from his glasses, he was unrecognizable.

The cashier certainly had no idea who he was, but it seemed he didn't know who Viktor was either, as the older teen glanced at the fanfare with a look of confusion on his face. The teen shook his head and looked at the disgruntled customer in front of him, but put on that pleasant sales-person face anyway, "Nomimono wa nani ni shimasu ka?"

"Chīsana kōhī to kōcha o kudasai."

A few taps against the touch-screen, and the order was placed, but the barista glanced up and past his customer at the Russian again, "Kare wa dare?"

Cherry-hazel eyes lifted a little, but then down again, "Viktor Nikiforov. Yūmeina figyuasukētā desu."

"Dono yō ni otagai o shitte imasu ka?"

Yuri held up his ring hand, "Kekkon shite iru."

Brown eyes blinked, but then nodded, "Ah, sō ka. ...Namae wa?"

"Yuri desu." He answered quietly. He didn't even hear the total for the transaction, but handed his bank card over anyway, taking it and the receipt back a moment later and then stepping aside for the next person. He waited quietly at the end of the counter, still unwillingly listening to the mirth and excitement of the fan-mob closer to the entrance. It had died down a little bit by the time the drinks were set down on a small black tray, and the skater could pull them down to find a place to sit, but he was still a little disgruntled about the whole thing.

With the tray set down on the top of a wooden table, Yuri crossed his ankles under his seat and set his chin in the palms of his hands, watching quietly. He wondered silently how long it would take Viktor to realize the drinks were ready. After a minute, the skater pulled his phone out and grudgingly called his husband, glaring daggers at the mob that kept that silver head so well-hidden from his line of sight. No answer came to the phone though, which miffed Yuri quite a bit, so he pocketed the device and took a deep breath.

"VIKTOR."

Like a prairie-dog, or a desk-jockey sitting in a cubicle, the Russian's head suddenly popped up above the other heads around him, looking around nervously until he spotted the red and gold beanie on the other side of the room. The skater glanced back down at the small gathering around him and started apologizing with a smile, backing out through them and waving as he finally got loose, "I have to go now. Byebyeee~!"

They took a few more pictures as he moved away, many waving back at him, and then finally trickled out of the cafe. Yuri just stared narrow eyes at them until they were gone.

"Yikes...you're really prickly all of a sudden." Viktor commented, taking his seat on the other side of the small table, "Everything okay?"

When the door closed, Yuri shook his head, suddenly rather aware of himself. He sighed and nodded, sitting upright and pulling his hands out of his coat pockets, one reaching up to pull the beanie off his mop of messy black hair, the other reaching for his scarf to pull it loose, "...Sorry. It's nothing."

"Looked an awful lot like something." The Russian commented, looking down to reach for the ceramic cups in front of him, only to pause and smile brightly, "Wow~!"

"What?"

"Didn't you see?" He asked, looking up and removing his hand from where it had been over top of the cup, "Look."

Cherry-hazel eyes descended on the coffee, seeing an intricately designed carp image 'painted' into the velvet froth, "...Oh, wow. That's...shockingly detailed for coffee art."

"I got distracted a minute ago. Sorry for that." Viktor went on, sliding the black tray around on the table-top so as to make room, then setting the two cups and the small teapot onto the glossy wooden surface, "I kind of stranded you in line without ever answering your question."

"...It's fine." Yuri insisted, though not being all that convincing, "It's not like I don't know the kind of drinks you like."

The Russian picked up on it easily enough, "Seriously. What's the matter? You've never gotten like this over a bunch of fans before."

The younger skater just sunk into his coat again, "...It's stupid. I have no right to be jealous right now."

Viktor tilted his head a little, but then glanced around and stood up, moving to his husband's side of the table and yanking his chair out from the edge of it, turning it, and then moving to sit facing the man on the end of his knees. Hands went gently to the scarf still barely hanging around Yuri's shoulders and neck, moving it out of the way so fingers could touch skin, "Tell me."

"...Like I said, it's stupid."

"Tell me anyway."

Yuri's arms just sagged at his sides, and he looked aside anxiously, clenching his eyes shut for a moment before leaning forward to put his forehead against his partner's shoulder, "Everything's just been so stressful since I messed up my Short Program in China last Friday. Then you left on Saturday night to go back to Russia... I missed you so much, and then when I finally got you back, I saw that you'd brought your father with you, and now I just can't rest easy at all." He admitted quietly, feeling his partner's arms come around him, "...I don't even want to close my eyes anymore because you'll be out of my sight again, even just to blink."

Viktor's heart hurt to hear the words, so he hugged the man a little tighter, "Wakatta."

"I guess...I'm just not ready to share you with other people again yet." Yuri went on, reaching his hands up to slip them into his husband's coat, sliding them around his sides to hold to his back, "I still need a minute to know that you're here and that you're okay."

"That's not stupid." The Russian said quietly, pressing his cheek to messy raven hair, "Your experience with all this has been completely different from mine. The only thing you know of my father is what you've seen and dealt with yourself. ...Being thrown by him at your first meeting, seeing me come back from the funeral with my face and eye all bloody... Going back with me to deal with things my mom left behind, and worrying at the end that the man might hit me a third time. I should've fought harder to prevent him from coming. I guess...I just got pulled back into everything more than I thought I had." Viktor whispered, speaking the words gently to Yuri's ear, then pulling back a little, lightly sliding his fingers down his partner's jaw and pausing on his chin, thumb on his lower lip, "You asked me this morning if I had any good memories of my father, and I told you that I couldn't think of any. I don't know why, but his presence in my memories is...utterly benign and unremarkable. I don't know if he chose to be that way, or if I was just too focused on other things to really notice him, but when Uncle Mimi and I were back in Russia, after we got all our frustrations out, and I spent the night in the car...my father went back to giving off that weird, unremarkable affect that he used to have. I wouldn't go so far as to say he's harmless...far from it...but I feel like he's in a place where he's just observing now. I don't feel like he's a threat." He slid his left hand down Yuri's right arm, finding that hand and pulling it out, kissing the ring thereupon, "This is more important to me than anything though. Until you feel better again, I'll try to keep a low profile, okay? I can't stop all the fanfare, given what we do and what we're here for, and all the other people who are here for the exact same reason, but I'll do what I can."

"...I feel kind of dumb having to ask you to do that for me..." Yuri said nervously, keeping his eyes low.

"It's not dumb." Viktor insisted, nudging a finger against the man's cheek to get him to look up again, peering into those brown eyes before leaning forward to kiss him lightly, "Your feelings mean more to me than anything else, and since you're unsettled, I want to do something about it. If that means I have to politely refuse my fans for a little while, then I'll do it without hesitation. They'll just have to get over it. Now..." Another quick kiss, and the Russian reached his free right hand towards his coffee, "...We should probably drink these before they get cold."

The younger skater nodded, seeing out the corner of his eye as his husband took a light sip of his latte. He pulled his hand free from the Russian's gentle grasp, and returned it to the man's back, inside the heavy winter coat. His fingers clenched to the soft Kashmir sweater, and buried his face against the man's chest, holding there until he was sure he wouldn't cry.

.

Thirty minutes passed, but Yurio finally arrived at the café on his own, having been instructed by his former rink-mate to meet them there. Yuri quickly rose from the table to greet the teen, giving and getting his customary hug before waiting in line with him.

"So why do they even bother calling this place an arcade if there's no arcade here?" The blonde grumbled, "It's just a shit-ton of little pharmacies and outlet stores."

"I think it's because of the Pachinko parlor..." Yuri offered, "But why they'd call the entire place an arcade because of one gambling den is beyond me. What do you want to eat anyway?"

"Whatever sandwich they have that doesn't have weird stuff in it."

The older figure gave him a look, "...What do you consider weird these days?"

"Relish."

"You don't like relish?" Another step towards the counter; one patron to go.

"On a sandwich, it's weird. You don't put mustard on ice cream do you?"

"Only sometimes." Yuri teased.

"Gross."

"I'm kidding."

Yurio glanced around the establishment as the older skater got up to the counter, spotting Viktor not far off, twiddling around on his phone. He looked normal for a moment, but then his face contorted into an expression that looked worried. The teen nudged Yuri with an elbow, "What's gotten into him?"

"Nothing?" He answered, turning to hand his card off again, "Why?"

"I'm gonna go find out."

"Eh? But nothing's wrong." Yuri insisted in a confused tone, getting his card back and stepping over to the other counter to wait. He muttered a little under his breath, "...Oh, no, Yurio...I don't mind paying for and carrying your food to you...not at all..."

"Oi." The blonde said suddenly, getting up to the table and pulling a spare chair over from a nearby set.

"Oh hey. Glad you made it." The silver Russian said, a bit absently, "Did you have fun here?"

"You look like someone just kicked your dog."

"...Is it that obvious?" Viktor sighed, setting his phone down, "Yakov is coming to NHK."

"Yeah, it's Baba's last event before the Final." Yurio quirked a brow, "Didn't you know?"

"I haven't really kept track of anyone else's events beyond mine and Yuri's." Slate eyes turned to find the third skater, seeing Yuri pulling another black tray off the counter and coming back around.

With the tray on the table, Yuri nudged it over towards the teen, "See? I told you, nothing's wrong."

"Viktor seems to think something is." He answered curtly, twisting on his chair to start reaching for the sandwich now in front of him, "Tell him."

Viktor huffed a sigh and looked at his husband as he sat, "Yakov just arrived in Sapporo with Mila."

"...Okay?"

"Don't you remember what she said before...?"

.

"Oh my God it's true." Mila said suddenly, pointing at them, though mostly pointing at Viktor, "Someone beat you up!"

Viktor narrowed his eyes...eye..., "...I...can't even..."

She came rushing up to him and grabbed him by his shoulders, "Who did this!? I'll hurt them ten times worse! I did warn you this would happen! I told you in Barcelona, didn't I!?"

Viktor tried to calm her, waving one hand in a downward motion like he wanted to turn her volume down if he could, "Relax, it's fine, nothing happened."

"You're wearing an eye-patch like a damn pirate!" She argued, "Someone punched you in the face and I mean to break theirs for it!"

.

"...Oh...right..." Yuri grimaced, "...Well, my money's on her."

Viktor couldn't help but laugh at that, but then buried his face in his hands and whined dramatically, "...This weekend...is going to be the end of me..."

"Well, she doesn't really know what happened back then..." The younger skater pointed out, reaching across the table to pull at one of the man's sleeves, "So as long as you don't tell her, she won't make the connection."

"Are you kidding?" Yurio asked, lettuce shreds stuck to his face, "You two walk around like a billboard saying 'hey everyone, look at us, something's wrong, please inquire within.' She's going to take one look at Viktor, and the look on his face when Konstantin's nearby, and she'll put the pieces together faster than you can stack a nesting doll."

The two older skaters glanced at one another, then lowered down to put their faces in their folded arms on the tabletop, "...Whhyyyy..."

"We could always avoid them." The blonde suggested, taking another big bite out of the sandwich, "I've been avoiding people all day. It's easy."

"Who are you trying to avoid? Your fanclub isn't here." Yuri wondered, lifting his eyes from where they'd been hidden in the crook of his elbows.

"Mikhail and Okukawa." He answered simply, "They've been weird since way early this morning."

"...We ran into them at the Beer Museum. They seemed pretty normal." Viktor pointed out, then leaning over to rest a forearm on the blonde's shoulder, "Well, aside from how they're official now."

"I KNOOOWWWWW." Yurio groaned, bits of food flying out of his mouth, "IT'S SO ANNOYING."

Yuri chortled against his coat sleeves, "Minako-sensei said you took off. I guess it's cuz they chased you from the room or something so they could have it to themselves?"

The older Russian huffed and sat back upright, taking his arm back as he went and looking marginally uncomfortable. Like before, Yuri noted it, but didn't pry.

"Not exactly." Yurio said, drawing the middle skater's attention back, "I was asleep. I guess they woke up at some point cuz Mikhail was in the chair before, and Okukawa split the bed with me. But when they woke me up, they were together, practically using the bed like a damn trampoline."

Yuri drew in a breath and laughed quietly to himself, "You mean, they got into bed."

"Use whatever semantics you want...it was obvious they didn't want me in the room after that. I was supposed to spend the night with them because you two were gonna be banging, but then I got chased out so they could bang. Am I the only one with other things on my mind around here? Jesus." The teen complained bitterly.

The raven-haired skater sat upright and leaned back into his chair, "Maybe you should find someone."

"Yeah, cuz girls are just falling out of the sky." Green eyes leveled at the man, almost scoffing in their own right, "I have better things to worry about."

"What about Otabe-"

"DON'T EVEN." The teen was up on his feet already, "We're friends. Just cuz you two turned gay for each other doesn't mean everyone else is going to."

Yuri felt like the blast of hot air could've knocked him right back out of his chair and onto the floor. He reached up to set his glasses and spiky bangs back in place, "I didn't...mean it like it was a bad thing, sheesh..."

"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much." Viktor teased.

"Call me a lady again!" Yurio challenged, getting into the silver Russian's face, though only finding a smile and a laugh coming back at him. He grudgingly took his seat and reached for the last bit of food on his tray, popping it into his mouth, "Otabek's cool. He's got motorcycles and DJs rock music, and he treats me like a brother. We're like war buddies or something. It's better than what you two are."

"We're your SkateDads." Viktor clarified, "Very different."

"You're annoying."

The older Russian just pat the teen's shoulder endearingly, "If we ever stop being annoying, we aren't doing our jobs."

.

.

.

Nomimono wa nani ni shimasu ka? = What would you like to drink?
Chīsana kōhī to kōcha o kudasai. = Small coffee and black tea please.
Kare wa dare? = Who is he?
Viktor Nikiforov. Yūmeina figyuasukētā desu. = Viktor Nikiforov. [He's a] famous figure skater.
Dono yō ni otagai o shitte imasu ka? = How do you know each other?
Kekkon shite iru. = We're married.
Ah, sō ka. ...Namae wa? = Ah, I see. ...Your name?
Wakatta. = I know/understand.