CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED FIFTEEN

"PHICHITTTO-KUUUUUUNNNNNNN!" Yuri yelled out, hands cupped around his mouth.

Like a desk-jockey on a cubical farm, deprived of all human contact, natural sunlight, and organic stimulation...Phichit's head popped up from within a crowd of other skaters, looking to and fro like someone had just announced that there was free pizza in the break room.

"YUUUUURRIIIIIII!" He called back.

"COME OVER HEEEERRREEEE." The older skater started waving his hand around from the far end of the room.

"...Are you sure this is a good idea?" Viktor wondered, watching the spectacle unfold before him.

Yuri looked back, entirely confident in his plan, "What better way to make sure we get back for our turn, and prevent photos going online, than to put an Instagram addict in charge of the former so as to avoid the latter?"

Blue eyes blinked at him, but the Russian just smiled, snapped his fingers, and pointed at him with that same hand, "Yes."

"Wha-what is it!?" Phichit asked as he ran up, looking worried, "Why are you yelling!?"

"Everything's fine. I need you to do something for me." Yuri said, getting a serious look on his face, "It's really important."

"Anything you need!"

"Viktor and I have to go off by ourselves to do something super private. I need you to be responsible and make sure we know when it's almost our turn to skate so we get back in time. Can you handle that?"

Dark brown eyes gaped for a moment, as though the words were rattling around in Phichit's head. For a while, the skater wasn't sure how to answer, "...Something...super private?"

"Yes." Yuri answered, reaching out to take his friend by the shoulders, "You're my point-man. Stay here in the prep area and make absolutely sure that we don't come back too late." He then reached down for the other skater's hands, seeing how Phichit still had his phone there, and brought them up to clasp them between both of his own, "You're the only one I can trust to make sure we get back for our turn." He looked at the younger man squarely in the eyes, unblinking and steadfast, "Can I count on you?"

Viktor watched quietly, utterly fascinated. He could almost see the math equations flying through Phichit's mind as he tried to process the innumerable scenarios that Yuri could've been referring to.

"Wh-" The Thai figure was finally breaking though, "You...I mean... Y-yes, of course you can! I'll text you when the last person before you goes up!"

"Perfecto~" Yuri hummed, clapping his hands against the back of his friend's where they were still clasped between them, "Remember. You have to stay here to make sure we're on time."

"I'll stay here!"

"Don't leave the prep area except for your own Exhibition."

"I won't go anywhere!"

The older skater smiled, "You're the best friend a guy could ask for. We're going to go and do that super-private stuff now, okay?"

"O-Okay!"

Yuri quickly turned and took Viktor's hand to start the skate-footed sprint, each of them thunk'ing along the polished concrete floor with each step. Viktor glanced back one last time before they rounded a corner, seeing Phichit waving one hand weakly in front of himself.

"Yuurriiii...that's so dirty...!" The Thai figure whispered to himself. He looked down at his phone then, sweating bullets as the desperate need to take pictures was rising inside him. He took a step forward...then stopped...going back again two steps, but turning on his heel to second-guess himself. Frustrated, he ruffled his immaculately-styled hair, "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME."

They only went so far as the empty ring under the arena, looking around for possible spies and seeing none but a few far-off Event Security staffers standing by the main entrance and exit hall. The corridor was wide enough for dozens of people to walk, but with the event coordinators shuffling spectators into the seating area through a select few entrance-ways, half the underside of the building was unused.

Skates were quickly pulled off and set aside, socks sliding much more easily across the floor than clunky, heavy blade-guards. Yuri tested it out while Viktor was still sorting out his own skates, gliding around with a few practice moves, even managing to get in a few spins before the Russian stood up.

"I think you broke his brain." Viktor said, not sure if he was allowed to laugh, "That was probably even crueler than when you told him to go to Oodori Park."

Yuri just stopped mid-spin, standing straight up to put both hands up behind his head, smiling anxiously, "It was all I could think of..."

Viktor nodded, sliding the team jacket off of where it had been loosely sitting on his shoulders, folding it over the nearby bench where his skates had been settled. He drew in a deep breath, "...Where to begin, then?"

"From the beginning, of course." The younger skater threw his arms out to let them fall back to his sides, backing up several paces down the hall as the Russian did the same.

They stood about 10ft apart, and Viktor raised his hands, lacing his fingers loosely together before spreading his arms way out to the side and pausing. Yuri moved in from the front, looking curiously with a finger on his lip, but then lightly setting a few fingers behind his partner's forearms to pivot them forward slightly, making them stretch forward in a wide V-shape rather than simply straight out to the sides.

"There...now I can come in and take your hands much sooner than before." He explained, stepping back a few paces, only to slide forward again, holding his own arms in the same V-shape as he came in, "I practically had to collide with you before."

Viktor just watched him quietly, following the lead where it may.

"Then," Yuri went on, "Instead of just stopping here in front of you, I can do this..." He stepped into the Russian's space, putting the side of his right foot and leg right up against the taller figure's, still holding to his partner's hands. He tilted his face down and inward, and Viktor followed suit. When Yuri realized there was still too much distance, he shifted where he put his feet, setting the right just in front of the Russian's instead of next to them, then getting in closer again, looking up just enough to feel the man's skin on his own, each other's right cheek and brow against one another lightly, "There, that's better. Then, without letting go until the end, I'll turn around to put my back towards you and you can start moving us both backward for the 3-turn."

They did just that, crossing Yuri's arms over himself where he turned, and he stepped back into his partner's embrace, feeling the man's chest against his back just as their fingers released. Viktor's hands went down to Yuri's waist, but before the Russian could take a step back, Yuri reached down to move his hands, making it so the man's arms came completely around him.

"...You're making me worried for the two and a half minutes just leading into this part of the show." The silver skater commented quietly, feeling where his partner's right hand came down over his own, left coming up to gently touch the side of his face where it had come over over a shoulder, chin to forehead when Yuri dipped his face inward and closed his eyes.

"This is all stuff you do normally anyway." The younger skater pointed out, "It feels really weird that you didn't already have the show planned this way."

Viktor had no answer for that.

They moved out to continue the formation, and Viktor stepped to the left, taking his husband's hand between them as they pretended to skate backward, letting go only for the 3-turn. They twisted into a fake Flip jump, arcing and coming back in line again, moving independently for a moment before coming back together again, face to face. They stopped there though, arms supporting one another while a leg each was out behind them.

"Why did you tell him that we did stuff after your Free Skate?" Yuri asked pointedly.

The silver Russian gave something of a defensive look, but then glanced away, "I don't know; it just came out."

The younger figure didn't entirely believe it, but said nothing as the maneuver went on. They switched sides, moving on their own again in time with each other, spinning and twisting, arcing arms over hips, kicking feet out, twizzling, then coming back to one another again.

Pausing when Viktor was behind him, each of them pivoting on their right foot as the left leg lifted behind them, Yuri turned his head slightly. The Russian's hands were holding to his waist to keep them in formation, but Yuri pulled on them again to put them more intimately around him, one around his abdomen while the other went around his chest, putting Viktor's chin just next to his ear. He lifted his free hand again to set it against that silver-grey hair, and turned his head fully to look at the man more evenly, "What else were you saying? Why did it even come up?"

"I was just..." The Russian started, second-guessing everything at that point, "...Explaining the timeline of events that lead to us standing out there."

"You didn't need to sandwich our private affairs into the middle of it though..."

"Maybe not." Viktor reluctantly agreed, feeling for a hand and using it to spin the shorter figure away from himself, putting him where he'd be for the Death Spiral and letting him slowly walk around in place of being lowered to the imaginary ice, "But maybe I did..."

"...Eh?"

"I told him...that I did my Rage Skate, and that I set 3 new World Records...but then what? I waited for an hour, doing nothing?" He went on, "Sat on my hands before collecting my medal? No... That's why it just came out. It was filler, bridging the gaps in a story."

"...It's not just filler to me..."

Viktor pulled his arm up, spinning his partner closer again as he 'came up' out of the spiral, "I didn't mean it that way..." He held there for longer than the maneuver would've taken, and Yuri wound himself down from the anticipation of going into the next, simply staying still where he was, "I walked away from that show at an all-time high in my career. I turned something that's caused me nothing but pain and stress into a performance of a lifetime...and when I was done, the only thing I could think of was you. How much I loved you, how much I wanted you. If I left it out...it was like I was letting Konstantin win. He's caused us both enough suffering this last year. I wasn't going to let him take my joy for getting to be with you away by hiding it like it hadn't happened."

"...So then why are you hiding it in the Exhibition?"

Like before, the silver Russian had no answer.

"You said this show was supposed to be the recovery after the storm. What kind of recovery is it when you're only putting in half of what you normally do?"

"We're coming at this from totally different perspectives."

"I know that...but you came this whole way saying you want him to see you for who you are. Why stop now? It doesn't make any sense. I'm as much a part of you now as the skating, aren't I?"

"Konstantin drove me from home with a broken eye-socket because of the skating...not because of my unknown future romantic choices." He finally said, "What I wanted to prove to him was that nothing he did to me mattered, because I did what I wanted anyway...and not just that... I went on to pursue the thing he hated the most, and I became the best at it. He knows that now...so I can finally put that whole sad saga behind me. That's what I tried to show him yesterday...he can take me as I am, or he can leave it... But I'm not going to weaponize our relationship the same way I did my Free Skate. I can't do that to us just to prove a point."

"...So then what have you been doing with me for the last few minutes...?"

"Humoring you." Viktor sighed, drooping his head until he could feel raven hair against his face. Yuri felt it like a stab through his chest, but said nothing. Viktor went on anyway, "...Trying to make myself warm up to your way of looking at it. I really want to do it your way, but I just...feel like my father doesn't deserve to see that much."

"Then you're just letting him ruin it for you. You're letting him do exactly the thing you said he shouldn't be allowed to do."

The Russian held perfectly still for a while, the words having hit him like a brick. Eventually though, he lifted his head again, and nodded, "I know..."

"Going out there and doing this Exhibition isn't the same as what you did with your Free Skate anyway. It's just us being us. But this song..." Yuri said quietly, snaking his fingers into his husband's right hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, "...I don't know if someone pulled it straight out of your brain or if you found it by accident...but this song is your story." He pulled that hand up and held it between both of his, kissing the ring lightly, "...The whole message it's sending is to be who you are despite what's happened, in spite of what people think. What kind of message will it send to our fans if the song is saying 'be who you are' but we're not?"

"'Be who you are...unless being who you are gets you punched twice in the eye, kicked in the ribs, and vodka poured on your head just to make it hurt more'?" Viktor said dryly, "Part of me worries he'll just start yelling profanities at the ice if we push it too far."

Yuri just gave him a look, "We need to deal with this..." He reached into his coat and pulled his phone out, turning slightly and sending out a call.

"What are you doing?"

"Something about this."

"Yuri, who are y-" Blue eyes shot open in realization, "Ahhhhh! Noooo!"

In the dark of the audience, a certain Russian's phone was buzzing in the inside-chest-pocket of a certain long-coat.

"I thought you turned it off?" Minako wondered, feeling the vibration all the way down his sleeve.

Mikhail grumbled and pulled the device out, "I probably should. People are going to get m-"

"YAMETE!" Someone finally harped in the row behind him, kicking the back of his chair.

"Hikari ga..."

Mikhail paused, dead-panning into the dark as he saw the name-plate on his screen. He turned quietly to the ballerina next to him, "Would you kindly tell these people that if Yuri Nikiforov is calling me, I'm going to answer?"

She blinked at him, but then nodded, turning to the people in the row behind them, "Sore ga Yuri Nikiforov da yo! Urusai!"

Confused muttering answered her as Mikhail stood up to get into the stairwell, barely able to squeeze past the legs of the huge man sitting between him and the open isle, "Hey, what's going on?"

"Can you bring Konstantin out here?"

"Eh?" The elder Russian stopped where he was, one hand still on the bear's shoulder where he'd put it to avoid falling as he stumbled by. He turned to look at the man, "...Bring him where?"

Viktor was protesting in the background, but Yuri was unrelenting, "In the big empty hall behind the prep area."

"...Ahhhhh okay..." Mikhail answered nervously, patting the shoulder where he held to it, "Poydem so mnoy, my dolzhny idti." He turned back to the phone as the confused behemoth stood up as asked, "I hope you have a plan because I have no idea what you're thinking right now."

"Just get here as soon as you can. There's not much time left and we still have work to do."

"Aright aright...be there in a second."

"Where are you going...?" Minako wondered; Yurio looked up as well.

"Yuri asked us to go see him. He asked for Kon specifically." He shrugged, "We'll be right back, I think?"

The ballerina and the skater watched them disappear in the dark, utterly perplexed as they then turned to glance at each other, "...Should one of us follow?"

"Maybe not..." Minako said nervously.

"I'm gonna go." The teen said, quickly standing up and rushing past before the woman could argue or grab him.

Yuri closed the screen and put his phone back into his pocket, turning to see his husband practically dying, "They're coming."

"WHATAREYOUTHINKING?" Viktor panicked, "WHYDIDYOU- WHYAREYOU-"

"Let me do the driving this time." The younger figure said, "You don't have to say or do anything."

The Russian just had his hands up over the sides of his face, fingers crossing over his eyes a little. He paused though and went on unsteady feet to the bench with his skates, sitting down before he fell down, "I don't feel so good..."

Yuri gave a nervous look, but swallowed to help the tingling growing in his gut. Barely a second later, he heard Mikhail's voice calling out, and he turned anxious eyes to look in his direction, seeing the hulking shadow walking next to him. The young skater drew in a deep breath, but then stepped out to start walking their way.

Just as he was about to speak though, Viktor came rushing up and started trying to pull him back, waving at the two men frantically, "You can go back! It's nothing! This was a mistake!"

"Viktor!" Yuri protested, slipping out of his partner's grasp like a slippery eel, "Let me do this!"

"I don't even know what you're doing!" He called back, halfway to hysterics already, "What are you doing!?"

"Just watch."

The pair of older Russians just gawked at the younger ones, standing still where they came to rest.

Yuri turned back towards them again, looking straight at Konstantin first, but then at Mikhail, "Translate for me."

"...Sure?" The confused elder answered, then leaning forward a little, "What's going on?"

Brown eyes went back up to slate, "Hi."

Viktor and Mikhail both gaped, but the elder coughed to clear his throat, turning to the bear, "Zdravstvuyte."

Even Konstantin was thrown by it, answering with little more than silence and a quirked eyebrow.

Yuri went on, "My name is Yuri."

"...Menya zovut Yuri."

Viktor listened in quiet horror, constantly looking between all three figures as words went on. He spotted the Russian Tiger coming up from behind though and quickly nabbed him, pulling him to a safe distance and holding him there with a hand over his mouth to silence his complaints.

"We first met under stressful circumstances in St. Petersburg, almost a year ago." Yuri continued, hearing Mikhail quietly repeating the words in Russian as he spoke, "Back then, Yakov told you I was a student of Viktor's. That was true. He had been my skating coach for about 11 months by then. He dropped a skating career at the apex of a 5-year winning streak, and went all the way to Japan to find me. He did that because he saw a video of me replicating one of his ultra-hard programs, despite having bombed doing my own easy show at the last event we shared, 3 months prior."

"What the fuck is he doing...?" Yurio asked quietly, finally getting past Viktor's weakening grip.

"...Your guess is as good as mine right now. I have no clue." He whispered back.

Yuri's voice paused for a moment as Mikhail caught up, and drew in a breath, "I'm 4 years younger than Viktor, but I've idolized him since I was 12. All those years, all I wanted was to be like him, to skate like him, to skate on the same ice as him. Everything I did, I did because I thought, maybe...just maybe...one day, I'd be good enough to compete against him...and meet him. Now, I never had any illusions of ever being half as good as he was, or that he and I would ever even be friends, even though we shared a mutual group of them. I was always too scared or nervous to talk to him, hardly even being able to form complete sentences when he was around...so you can imagine how crazy it was when he showed up at my family's hot-spring resort, saying he was going to drop everything and be my coach."

All eyes were on him by then.

"Who was I? Some nobody, whose total score in my last event was less than the Free Skate score he got yesterday. But there he was...this guy I've practically worshiped for half of my life, standing in that hot-spring saying, 'Yuri, starting today, I'm going to be your coach. I'm going to make you win the next Grand Prix Final.'"

Again, he paused to let Mikhail catch up. Konstantin whispered something back at him, inaudible to the younger Russians in the rear, but the silver man shrugged and turned his eyes to let Yuri know he could keep going.

He cleared his throat and drew in another anxious breath, "I've never really been the praying type...but I pleaded with Kami-sama, God, that Viktor wouldn't leave...that if I could get anything in my life, all I wanted was some of Viktor's time. And he stayed. For 8 months, he lived with me and my family, teaching me, building me up, helping me learn to just like myself again...and in the end, at the end of that 9th month, when it came down to the wire...I managed to win silver, beat out for gold by less than a quarter of a point by him." He pointed at the blonde, though kept his eyes on the bear, "I was already worried that I'd miss the mark by a big margin before that...so I bought Viktor a gold ring, as a thank you for everything he'd done, and to give him something gold in case the medal turned out not to be it in the end. I'm not even sure why I picked a ring, of all the things...all I knew was that I wanted it to be something he could have with him that wouldn't get in the way. He had already given up so much for me...if I failed to get that gold medal at the end, or worse, if I didn't even get on the podium...it would've embarrassed him, and it terrified me. I can't tell you how many sleepless nights I had because of that fear. The eyes of the entire world were on me, and everything I did...my successes, my failures, it would all reflect on Viktor, for better or worse. So I got him that one little bit of gold, just in case I couldn't get the gold that really mattered. But you know what happened...?"

Yuri looked down, pulling his hands out of his pockets and looking at the band around his finger. He nervously held that hand up, palm towards himself.

"He bought the matching ring...and gave it to me." He could already feel the strain in his eyes and voice, "He slipped that gold around my finger and told me, quite simply, to go skate the shows that I could honestly say I liked the best. In that moment...that one, quiet moment in the Sagrada Familia...with my heart pounding so hard I thought it would explode, I realized for myself what Viktor had been thinking the entire time...I couldn't be without him." He felt the tears starting to roll down his face, and he pulled his hand back to protect the band, "I'd been nervous already about the idea of him leaving after the Final was over...I even asked him to stay with me until I retired from the sport, as though that somehow meant he'd be around longer, even though I hadn't yet decided to stay on after we got done in Spain. But Viktor just told me...that he hoped I never retired...and I started to let myself believe that he'd never leave me. I just needed to meet him half-way." He reached up to rub his eyes and catch his breath, "...I didn't know what to do. In my head, I was just wracked with guilt...this is Viktor Nikiforov, greatest skater of our generation, best skater in the world, in history...he's my idol, my hero...my best friend. I wanted him to come back to the sport as a competitor, since I'd basically stolen him from the world by having him coach me. In my heart though, I knew better. Even though I'd never had interest in guys before...I'd had a long-time crush on a girl I grew up with, after all...I still knew." He looked up then, staring straight into those slate blue eyes, "No one chooses who they fall in love with...and I had fallen completely in love with him."

Both of the men standing in front of him exchanged glances once Mikhail caught up, but beyond that, no one was really reacting...just listening.

"So I can't tell you how much it hurt me when I saw Viktor come back to St. Petersburg after going to the funeral for his mom...and I found out that my love for him got him two fists in the eye and a foot in his chest," He raised his hand and pointed at the bear, "...FROM HIS OWN FATHER."

Viktor's eye twitched a bit behind his bangs, but he stayed still and silent, holding onto Yurio still, as though the teen were the only thing he had to anchor himself to the moment instead of running.

Konstantin gave the young skater a skeptical look once he'd heard the translation, turning to whisper something to Mikhail again. They each muttered back and forth a few times, too quiet for anyone but themselves to hear, though at one point Mikhail looked like he'd been taken aback by something, looking from the bear to Yuri and then back again. He drew in a breath and stepped forward a bit, and gestured to the big man to give some response.

Silence answered for a moment, but the bear shrugged, speaking things in Russian until enough was said that Mikhail could report it back in English, "He's saying...From the moment I first set eyes on you, I thought you were weak. Too weak to be a man, to weak to be anything at all, really. When you jumped on my arm during that first meeting, I added 'idiot' to the list of things I thought you were."

Yuri just guffawed, turning his head back to Viktor and giving a look like I told you so before turning back again.

"The only reason I didn't crush you back then was because I knew it would cause more problems than it was worth." Mikhail went on reluctantly, "So I told Viktor what he should do, and threw you out like the worthless trash I thought you were. I thought he'd see the truth of it and abandon the idiocy of the game he was playing, because no son of mine would be getting into bed with another man. But then I remembered..."

The skaters all blinked in confusion.

"...This giant idiot is related to him." Mikhail said stiffly, gesturing at himself for emphasis the same way Konstantin did, "...And he spent half his formative years pretending to be his twin sister."

Yuri raised a brow at him, "...Seriously?"

Yurio just chortled in the background, hushed quickly by Viktor.

"It's a long story." The elder grimaced, turning an ear back as the bear started up again, and waiting a moment like before to start translating, "...As much as you all probably think that I use my fists to get what I want because of my size...it's not wholly true. What is true though, is that as much as I wanted to beat the ever-living Hell out of Mikhail for the things he did growing up...I never did. Instead, the urge to do so just sat at the back of my mind, idle for decades. But Mikhail left...and then Viktor left...and all I was left with was the question...in the end, when it mattered most, did I take out all my anger for Mikhail out on my own son? All he'd really done was skate. In hindsight, it wasn't even the fact that he was skating that angered me...it was how he'd lied about it, and how his mother had lied about it. After he was gone, I was torn between the guilt of having let my anger get the better of me...and trying to justify how much I still hated the skating, and how much more angry it made me to know my son was doing it. I was worried that he would grow up just like his Uncle did, either pretending to be a woman, or simply letting himself be used like one, and that the figure skating would make him think it's okay. I railed against it...my son was a Nikiforov...and no Nikiforov was going to let himself be mounted by another man."

Nervous glances went around the hall again, but none moreso than the one Mikhail was giving to himself for having to repeat the words.

It went on though, "When I saw the rings on both of your fingers, I wanted to break the both of you in half." The silver Russian said nervously, "Or at very least, break you in half, and drag Viktor back home where he belongs, and re-teach him what it means to be part of this family. To take him by the shoulders and scream STOP TRYING TO BE YOUR UNCLE. YOU'RE VIKTOR NIKIFOROV, NOT VIKTOR ROZOV-" Mikhail stopped at that point, sighing in frustration, "This is nuts. It always comes back to me." He turned on his heel and gestured at Yuri, looking at the bear, [WOULD YOU JUST APOLOGIZE FOR HITTING VIKTOR AT THE FUNERAL? THAT'S ALL YURI WANTS.]

"What else did he say though? I know that wasn't the end of it." Yuri asked quietly, turning back to the two behind him.

"...He was saying that it's been 25 years, that Viktor should stop pretending to be his uncle's son, and that nothing either of them did would make it true." Yurio finished, "He was in the middle of something else but Mikhail cut him off, saying Kon should just apologize for hitting Viktor and be done with it."

Yuri turned back to the two bickering elders, "Let him finish, Mikhail."

Grey-green eyes turned back, stopping mid-sentence as he heard the words. He huffed a stiff breath and adjusted his tie to busy his hands, "Fine." He gestured then to tell the bear to keep going, waiting the anxious moment as the Russian started speaking again, and picking up the translation as he went, "...He's saying...he hit Viktor at the funeral because he thought he could beat me out of him. He thought Viktor's relationship with you was just some joke like I'd played on him when we were kids, and that if he put his foot down, he could finally stamp out my influence on Viktor's character." Mikhail growled then, "This really is all my fault."

"Whatever you did to him as kids as nothing to do with how he treated Viktor last year." Yuri said firmly, "Tell him again to apologize."

The silver Russian turned back and looked at the bear, gesturing between him and the young skater, [Yuri is flat-out demanding an apology.]

[He can demand all he wants.]

[So you won't?]

[You first.]

Mikhail blinked in confusion, [Me first...? What does that even mean?]

[You never apologized for what you did back then. So...you apologize to me, and I'll apologize to him.]

Yuri looked between them as they exchanged words, then turned back to the other two with a curious look.

"Kon's bargaining." The Tiger explained.

The skater gave a look like that didn't make sense, and crossed his arms as he waited for them to be done.

[Haven't I done enough to prove that I feel bad for what I did?] Mikhail wondered.

[All you've done is try to weasel your way back into Viktor's life, picking up where you left off when you abandoned him in spite of me. What have you done to show that you regret what you did to the rest of us?]

"...Dang, burn." Yurio quipped.

"QUIET, YOU." Mikhail barked, turning back then, [I guess, nothing at all if that's how you feel. Admitting that I know I did wrong, regretting how it hurt everyone...watching out for you and trying to bring the family back together like Tat wanted, none of that mattered.]

[Tat was the only one who wanted it.]

[Apparently.] Mikhail grumbled, [Then fine...I'm sorry for pretending to be Tat when we were teens. I'm sorry for trying to destroy your marriage and for all the years I made everyone miserable with my woe-is-me attitude after you put me in my place.]

[And?]

[...And?]

Konstantin gestured a hand towards his son.

The silver elder ruffled his brow in confusion, not really sure what the man meant. Viktor gave him the same look back. However, that was what told Mikhail what the issue was. Everything in him seized up, and he was left feeling like he couldn't breathe. His eyes went down to the floor and he felt all the blood drain from his face...but he finally turned to look back at the huge figure just next to him, [...I'm sorry for trying to steal Viktor from you.]

"Hah?" Both younger Russians gaped.

"What? What just happened?" Yuri looked frantically between them.

[For trying?] Konstantin questioned.

[I'm sorry I stole him from you.] Mikhail corrected, [For keeping him close to me for so long that he didn't even recognize who and what you were, or what you were supposed to be. I'm sorry that in giving up trying to keep Tat to myself, that I took your son instead. I'm sorry for the fact that the only regret I had from back then is that I didn't try to dispel those stupid rumors that Viktor actually was mine, like I was proud of the scandal, even knowing it was a lie, and dragging Tat down into mud with me in the process. I'm sorry that the shame I made her feel is the whole reason why she never tried to leave that town again after the fact. I'm sorry that she'd heard the lie repeated so often that she actually started to wonder if it was true, and that I never tried to convince her otherwise, and for the irreparable rift it caused between you two...and I'm sorry that it took me 25 years to realize the lasting damage I did.]

Viktor was already stunned when he heard it...but when Yurio finished translating, even Yuri was shocked. Neither of the three of them spoke a word though in response, simply wondering where to go from that.

[I was never clever enough to realize that what I did to you guys would carry on after I went away.] Mikhail said, eyes still on the floor, [Maybe that's why I seem to have been so stupid all this week. Everything I ever said or did, for or because of you was stupid. I always thought I knew what I was doing...I was always so successful at everything else I did...but when it comes to my family, the people who should be able to count on and trust me, I'm the biggest idiot in the world.] He turned and stood squarely in front of the huge figure, looking rather defeated, [When I told Minako about the things I'd done, I thought that was everything... It never even occurred to me to consider anything else. But, all along, I was missing the bigger picture, and I entirely missed the point.]

[Yes you did.] The bear said simply.

[What do I even do now...?] Mikhail wondered, [Should I leave?]

[Don't you even dare.] Viktor interjected, [If you run away from this, I'll never forgive you.]

Grey-green eyes were turned towards the sound of the man's voice, but then turned back to the hulking shadow in front of him, [...Then you deserve to punish me, like you did back then...but without holding back.]

"...Uh oh." Yurio twitched.

"What!?" Yuri questioned through clenched teeth.

"It's about to be Déjà Vu City." The teen answered.

True to his worry, Konstantin pulled his arm back, and the relatively tiny silver man cringed in anticipation. Like a slingshot, all three skaters jumped forward, each one yelling to stop...but the arm came around anyway. They were too far off to stop it, so all they could do was watch in horrified slow-motion as the battering-ram of a hand cut through the air like a knife.

Mikhail's hat fell to the floor with a tap. The hall was silent.

...Save for the sound of Mikhail dropping to his knees, pale-faced and stunned. Viktor quickly regained his focus and finished running forward, bending down to help pull his Uncle up off the floor. The elder could barely hold himself up though, and Yuri came under his other arm to help hold him there.

[If I actually hit you, your head would pop right off your shoulders, Mik.] The bear said, lowering his arm and putting his hand casually back into the pocket of his coat, [But then you'd never learn.]

[W-What...does that mean, then?] The petrified Rozovsky asked, his heart still stopped from the shock of feeling the wind fly past the top of his head.

The huge man simply shrugged at him, turning his attention to Mikhail's younger doppelganger, [I'm sorry I took my anger out on you.] He said quietly, [Nothing I say or do can ever undo the fact that it happened, but I to regret it. I let myself be controlled by things that had nothing to do with you, and the only person I can blame for that is myself. A man can only admit when he was wrong, and I truly was.]

Viktor was shocked to hear it, almost too stunned to even move. He shook his head though, looking to his Uncle, "Can you stand on your own?"

"...I think so."

The silver skater nodded and stepped back out from under the man's arm, leaving him to just use Yuri as a support. Before Viktor could say anything though, Mikhail felt himself huff a nervous laugh, holding a hand over his terrorized heart as he glanced up at the bear's eyes, [He really is your son. He...did the exact same thing a few weeks ago. Had us all scared.]

"Hey, he actually hit me." Yurio contested.

"He flicked your ear."

"It stung! A lot!"

Viktor rolled his eyes at them, turning his attention back to the behemoth in front of him, [Are you really sorry though? To me?]

The huge Russian bear nodded quietly, [Yes.]

He hesitated for a moment, but socked-feet started to shuffle forward, and Viktor silently paused a few mere inches in front of the man, the top of his head barely coming up to the figure's collarbone. Yuri watched in wide-eyed confusion, the translations having stopped by then, his heart thumping loudly in his chest...but he saw Viktor lean slightly forward, putting his forehead to the bear's jacket.

"Spasibo."

The new group of three gaped in silence.

Konstantin was entirely unsure how to respond to the gesture. For a moment, all he could do was look down and stare at the top of Viktor's silver-haired head, and he glanced from his son to his brother-in-law and back again. The hand he'd just used to scare the ghost out of Mikhail came back up out of his pocket, and hesitantly came around, stopping for a moment...then went closer, setting gently to the skater's back.

Viktor let out a breath he'd been holding since he was a kid, hands coming up to grip at the big man's coat lapels, [I'm...sorry I lied to you back then... I was just...]

[You don't need to apologize for anything.] Konstantin said with a sigh, [You never did anything wrong. You were just doing what you were meant to...I see that now.] The other hand came up and around after that, and the bear leaned down as well, all but picking the younger figure off the floor where he held him, [Your mother would be so proud of you...for everything you've achieved, and everything you've done. You've come so far, even though none of us were there for you...and that's all my fault.]

The young silver held on for a moment longer, but then lifted his head and moved to pull back, rubbing his eyes on the back of his sleeve before setting one foot away to turn around. He reached his hand for Yuri, pulling him forward when he took it. The Russian drew in a shaky breath, but when he felt his partner's shoulder against his own, he drew strength from it and nodded to himself, lifting his head back to his father, [Papa...this is Yuri. He's my husband, and the love of my life. You don't know how strong he is...he's the best thing that ever happened to me...] He looked back to those confused hazel eyes, having heard his name, and 'Muž' in there as well, harkening back to one of the first Russian words he'd learned after Spasibo.

Yuri swallowed hard and let go of his partner's hand to hold it out in front of himself instead. He shook a little, but felt a supportive hand against his back, and knew Viktor was there.

Konstantin just looked on at the gesture, seeing the tiny trembling hand...and nervously took it in his massive bearpaw.

Yuri felt like he'd pass out any moment, but then felt that same bearpaw go up and muss his hair, and he looked up in stellar confusion...and mild alarm.

[He seems a good kid. A bit foolish...but his heart's in the right place.] The huge Russian said, "Zdravstvuyte."