CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED FOURTY SEVEN

Wednesday Night

Minako clicked off her phone and fell back onto the bed where she sat, stretching out as far as she could go before flopping into laziness again, "That went pretty well I guess. I thought Yuri would be upset with me or jealous in some way, but he sounded pretty happy about it all."

"Why would he feel like that?" Mikhail wondered, inspecting the lodge-like hotel room, idly flapping his hat back and forth where he held it in one hand, over his crossed arms.

"Oh, only because of Viktor feeling that way." She huffed, looking over at the man, "What's the matter? Don't like the room?"

"Huh?" He glanced over at her, "Oh, no, nothing like that...I just start unconsciously deconstructing things in my head when I need to think. Tomorrow is going to be busy."

"At least Banff is small." Minako offered, pushing to sit up again, "You could probably look at every single apartment in this place and still have time to think about which one you're willing to pay for."

"Yeah..."

"Did you want to turn in early?"

The elder Russian shrugged, "I'm actually pretty wide awake. I want to get this thing done and over with. If stuff was still open at this hour, I'd already be driving around doing tours."

"So you're saying you have a whole bunch of pent-up energy and don't know what to do with it?" Minako smirked.

Mikhail just raised a brow at her and made a face, "...Yes."

"The night is still young, my friend!" The ballerina hopped up off the bed and twirled dramatically, "Let's go do something!"

Thursday Morning

"Uuhhhhhh I don't feel good..." Minako groaned, rolling onto her side to try and get more comfortable where she lay in the bed, "I think I ate something I shouldn't have..."

Mikhail sat up and crossed his legs, leaning over to rub her back, "Well...while it's possible you could've eaten something that disagreed with you...it would've been something you ate while you were still in Japan... Stomach bugs don't work that fast."

She just hazily waved a hand at him, "Stop being smart...I can't do a brain right now..."

"...Can't do a brain." He repeated with a huffed laugh.

Minako reluctantly pushed up to sitting and stumbled off the edge of the bed, crawling over to the bathroom door, feeling and looking quite sick to her stomach. In an embarrassed haze, she plopped down to begin her morning prayer to the Porcelain Gods, though nothing ever really happened. She whined loudly, "What if it's not a stomach bug? What if I'm really sick with something...? What if I have to skip the Final!?" She sobbed comically at the dreaded thought, "I'm going to miss all the skatinnnggg!"

"You'd feel sick in other ways if you had something other than whatever mild food poisoning you might have." The Russian explained, leaning casually against the door frame to watch over her, "I can go real quick to the corner store and get you some Pepto or something."

"But I don't feel sick in any other way..." She went on, crossing her arms over the seat and leaning her forehead down onto them, "This doesn't feel like a regular stomach bug anymore...it just sucks...I wonder if I'm getting the flu...?"

Mikhail quirked a brow, not sure what else to do. He kicked up his foot to scratch at the other ankle through the bottom of his sweatpants, but suddenly felt a cold chill run down his back. In a flurry of a panic, he started cursing in Russian and rushed back to the closet, rummaging around in his coat like he was on some insane mission.

The ballerina looked as well as she could, pulling herself along the tile floor until she could stick her head out the door and watch him, "...What's gotten you all bothered suddenly...?"

The coat fell off its hanger, and the frantic Russian went down with it, pulling it into the hall-space to keep looking. When he finally had what he was seeking, he rushed back over to where Minako was watching from, giving him the most vexed expression.

"...Hun, seriously, why are you freaking out?" She wondered in that nauseated, tired tone. She reached up with her free hand to push some of the loose strands of hair out of her face, but when she finally looked down at where the panic-stricken man was fumbling with something in his own hands, she stopped.

A little black velvet box was giving the man no-end of trouble, as though each side had been bolted closed rather than just on the one side where the tiny hinges were, "Marry..." He dropped it and it went sprawling onto the floor, tumbling from the carpeted section to the tile, "Shit!" The Russian reached for it in a shaky panic.

"...Marry shit...?" Minako echoed, her heart pounding from the confusion.

"Me!" Mikhail corrected, pulling the box back again and finally managing to open it properly, turning it around to show her, "Marry me!"

"What are you..." She went on, the whole thing happening too fast for her sleep-addled mind, "Hun, I'm just hung over or something...why are you bringing this up now? I don't even have a sense of humor this early...especially not since I feel sick..."

"I'm not trying to be funny this time!" The Russian insisted, looking a bit more desperate at that point, holding the box up a bit higher, "Look!"

"I'm sitting on the bathroom floor in a nightgown and you're sitting on the living room floor in nothing but your pants. I feel like I'm gonna puke any minute and yo-" She stopped, looking at the rather elaborate ring there suddenly before her eyes. The band was platinum and white-gold, lined with small diamonds going all the way around in 2 rows, merging into one at the opposite side. On the top, in center, was a rather large, round diamond, surrounded on six points by smaller diamonds with white-gold decorative fasteners under and between them. Minako blinked at it, like she wasn't sure it was real, but then looked back up at her partner, who at that point was right on the edge of tears, "...When did you...?"

"In St. Petersburg. I picked it up after I checked on Vivi's house. I ordered it over the weekend and was going to have it sent to Edmonton but since I was in town I just went and got it." He said quickly, his hands trembling a little, "I was going to wait a while since you seemed to still think it was kind of a joke, but I've been holding out hope that maybe you'd take it more seriously later on...but now I just..." He lifted those grey-green eyes and looked directly into hers, "Minako, will you marry me?"

She was still thoroughly taken aback, looking down again at the little velvet box with the ring on its little stand, "...How much did you...did this c-"

"Don't worry about it." He said, a bit more calmly than before, but still feeling hectic, "You'll never have to worry about money again. I'll take care of you. From now till always. You can run your studio and your snack shop, or you can close one or both of them if you want. You'll never have to deal with anything you don't want to ever again. I love you and I want to be with you."

"M-Mikhail..." She muttered, shaking her head a bit in case she was still somehow asleep. Realizing she wasn't, she nervously brought up her right hand, but then her left, "I don't...know which one it should even go on..."

The silver Russian reached to pull the ring from the box and held it carefully, moving to lift the woman's left hand, and slipped it onto the finger there, "...They say that it goes on the left...because the heart is on the left side of the chest, so it's closer to this finger than the other..." He explained nervously, "But I've known people to wear it on a necklace, too...and some places prefer the right, because it's the hand most people use first..." He cupped both hands around hers when the ring was in place, and drew in a frantic breath, trying to calm himself down. His eyes moved up again, "But you can wear it wherever you want. I'll just put it here to get it started...right?"

The ballerina nodded nervously, and looked again as the man lifted his hand back. It was still surreal to see the pale ring, especially now on her own finger, but there it was. Another wave of unhappiness in her gut caught her attention though, and she pressed her right hand against her stomach with a grumble. For a moment, that was all she could think about...but then her eyes shot open, and she lifted her head again, "...I'm not really sick, am I?"

The perplexed Russian shook his head, but then nodded, and then shrugged unknowingly, "I mean, maybe you are...but...just in case?" He smiled nervously, then dared to sneak in and give the nauseated woman a kiss.

She just kept quiet, her mind both numb and full of questions at the same time.

.

As the day wore on, her nausea faded, and she went about the planned To Do list like a quiet helper. An adequate apartment for the Rozovsky son was found fairly quickly, and Mikhail called for a packing group to come help evacuate the teen from his room. Groceries were bought, utilities turned on, internet and cable television enabled, and the unpacking began. All in quiet, Minako followed along. Not even the excited bouncing-around of Nikki, having found the new ring like a heat-seeking missile, could pull her out of her stupor.

"Aright guys, the flight's in 3 hours; we need to get moving. Everything's all packed up?" The Russian asked, his voice sounding hollow and distant to the ballerina, "Remember, we're going to Moscow after we're done in Detroit. Yura's competing in Nationals. We won't be back here till after the New Year."

"Relax, pipaw, we got everything." Viktoria said, putting her small suitcase into the trunk alongside her sister's, and the duffle-bag containing the few forgotten items belonging to a certain Russian Tiger.

"Well, I guess if you forgot anything or need new stuff, we'll just get it on the fly..." Mikhail nodded, closing the trunk and taking one last look at the house. He looked over the car roof at his new fiancé, "Ready?"

She nodded and sat through the open door, pulling it closed behind her, then the seat-belt after. With all doors closed, the Mercedes hybrid started moving. The ballerina pulled out her phone to check messages and Instagram, seeing the pictures Phichit was starting to post in Detroit. She quietly smiled to herself to see that familiar backdrop of the city, and especially at the randomly tender moment taking place behind the Thai skater where they'd stopped at the exit of the airport. She held her phone up for a moment when they were at a stop-light, "Looks like the boys made it safely."

"Oh, I wanna see!" Nikki called, pawing for the phone after her father got his glance, and scrolled through the feed, "Who's this guy? Phichit-chu?"

"Phichit Chulanont, one of the other skaters that your cousin competes against."

"Oh yeah, he was the one in first place in Japan after Day 1."

"Yeah. Unfortunately, he didn't qualify for the Final this time, but he and Viktor's husband used to train together in Detroit, so they decided to go together whether they were all competing or not." Minako explained, "He seems to be in good spirits despite it all, so that's good."

"Do you know all the other skaters?" The teen wondered, seeing a flood of pictures from Phichit's account, including a number of their flight, Viktor and Yuri asleep on the plane, the three of them being in Tokyo and Fukuoka airports, and further back until they were still in Hasetsu the night before.

"I know of them, but Yuri never really introduced me to any of them." The ballerina answered, taking her phone back when she felt it against her shoulder, "I started to meet more of them personally over the last year, after he and Viktor got married. Viktor's the super-social one."

"...Really?" Viktoria wondered, a bit sarcastically, "The way he was in Calgary would say otherwise."

"Don't let that fool you." Mikhail added, "Given the stuff I've told you guys about what happened in Russia before...Yuri wasn't lying when he explained that Viktor's always apprehensive about meeting family. He's actually really excitable and fun most of the time."

"He looked like he was pretty unhappy at his last competition." Nikki pointed out, "What was wrong with him? You said he wasn't feeling it, but none of the commentators said anything about why."

"Did you ever find me in the crowd like you wanted?"

"No...why?"

"Oh...well, Viktor's father was there."

Viktoria just choked on her sucker-candy, but then laughed, "How'd you manage to get that skate-hating fiend on a plane?"

"With a lot of effort. Anyway though, I was going to say, if you found me in the audience, you might've seen him there, too. At the end of Viktor's last show though, when he raised his arms up, he was staring at Kon the whole time."

"Oooohhhhh!" Nikkita leaned forward in her seat, holding to the shoulder-rests of Minako's chair in front of her, "Was it that huge scary guy by the exit!?"

"Ah, yeah, that's the one." Mikhail nodded, "I guess he'd be easy to spot. He took up like 4 seats on his own, one each just for his arms."

"Wow~!"

Minako's eye twitched, and she glanced back, seeing that same goofy heart-shaped smile on Nikkita's face that Viktor often had, and Mikhail himself less-often-but-still-sometimes had as well. She turned back and looked out the windshield, ...I'm really about to marry into Viktor freaking Nikiforov's extended family...Jeeeeeze...

.

Finding their seats on the plane, Minako looked at her phone again, getting in one last check with social media before she lost internet access. She was surprised to note that Phichit had gone onto something like radio-silence, after the 7th adventure to introduce Viktor to all the people he and Yuri used to know. She checked the time, only 4:30pm, but then pocketed the device and leaned as far back into her seat as she could while it was still upright. Closing her eyes, she drew in a breath, but opened them again when she felt a hand on her own, and glanced over to see the silver elder there looking back at her. The two teen girls were in the seats behind them.

"You've been really quiet all day." The Russian whispered, "Are you alright...?"

"Phichit's been posting about their crazy times in Detroit, but he stopped posting suddenly. I hope everything's okay with him." She explained, half-truthfully anyway, "I'm nervous he's letting the Final get to him, since he's not getting to skate."

The Russian just looked at her skeptically, "You've been quiet since way early this morning, when Vivi and the rest were still on their plane. I know their situation isn't at the core of what's bothering you."

She swallowed nervously and tilted her head back against the seat again, "I guess not."

"...Are you having regrets or something?"

Minako closed her fingers a little tighter where she could feel the man's around them, and shook her head, "I guess I just didn't think things would happen so fast. I...thought I was too old for the stuff that's really bothering me."

"Me too. Er...I mean, for me. For both of us." He cleared his throat nervously, "...Yeah."

"I don't know what to think."

"Pipaw!" Viktoria called, "What hotel are we staying at anyway, and when are we going to get there?"

"Detroit is 2 hours ahead of us right now, so we'll get there just after midnight local time. And we're staying at the Aloft."

"Is that the place you were planning on staying originally?" The younger teen asked, whipping out her phone to look it up just as her sister was, "Or did you change it?"

"No, same hotel, just a bigger suite."

"Is that where Cousin Viktor is staying?"

The Russian shook his head as he looked back through the seats to his daughters, "No, the competitors and event organizers book an entire hotel just for themselves. The rest of us peasants have to find somewhere else to stay."

The two girls laughed and went back to their research.

Mikhail went back to his anxious partner, "It'll be fine. Maybe I panicked for no reason and it's nothing."

.

The ballerina dozed lightly as the plane started making its circular descent towards Chicago O'Hare airport. The seat-belt light came on and seats were put back into the upright position like normal. The plane landed, taxied down the runway...and two certain phones suddenly blew-up with texts and phone messages.

Somewhat perplexed, both ballerina and engineer pulled their devices from the pockets they'd been stowed in, and looked to see what had happened. Unexpectedly, both of them were getting inundated by messages from a certain Russian skater...who had, in his panic, apparently forgotten that planes have appalling wifi reception, and that no one in their right mind would pay for a service that gives you bars, but no service.

Minako glanced over at her partner's phone, "Viktor?"

"Yeah, you?"

"He's freaking out about something."

"I'll call."

The plane was moving at a glacial pace as the dial-tone rang, but it didn't take more than two rings before the other end picked up. Mikhail could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up to hear the tone in his grief-stricken nephew's voice, "Vivi, calm down...what happened? ...We were on the plane. We haven't had cell reception until just now, so we just got flooded with all of your messages. Thought I'd call just to get it straight."

Minako gazed over with a worried look on her face, hearing the sound of a voice through the receiver going on something of a half-angry half-agonizing rant about the night's events.

"No, we're on a layover in Chicago, we'll be another 2 hours or so. ...He's not? What are they doing right now?" Mikhail went on, brow furrowed in worry as well, "A CT of his head? Is that standard or do they think something's wrong? ...Oh, well...then don't worry unless they find something. ...Vivi, no, sit down. Is anyone there with you? ...No one is there with you? Where's Chris? What about Yuri's friend? ...Oh. Oh, okay. What hospital are you guys at?" Mikhail turned slightly and tapped his partner's hand to take a note, "DMC Receiving Hospital. Okay. Well, try not to go crazy and kill the other guy. We'll be there around 1am. ...Sure, no problem. Bye, Vivi."

"Well?"

The Russian drew in a breath, "Yuri had an accident."