CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED FIFTY THREE
To say the least, one side of the table was quite a bit more lively than the other. The Rozovsky sisters and the Viktuuri SkateHusbands had found common ground with the basic tenants of figure skating, once the two older figures learned that the two younger ones actually did skate some.
"Well yeah, of course we skate." Viktoria said skeptically, holding a bit of sausage on the end of a fork, "We live in Canada. Not skating there would be like...I dunno, not being hot in the desert. We might not know much about all the fancy schmancy stuff you two do, but we can hold our own on the ice."
"Yeah, even papa skates." Nikki added.
Yuri and Viktor looked at one another in disbelief, then shot their glances down the table to the eldest of the clan, "You can skate!? Why didn't you ever...?"
"Whoa whoa..." Mikhail had both hands up frantically, "I know how to not fall. I can also only go forward. None of that backwards-facing craziness that you two do."
"Still though." The younger Russian was still stunned, "I mean, I knew you did as a kid, given what you said about my papa...but...these days?"
Nikki leaned over the corner of the table towards Yuri, a hand over her mouth to whisper into his ear, "He's being coy; he skates really well."
"Years ago, yeah, when I was young and limber, but not as much since the divorce." The elder shrugged, sipping at the white ceramic coffee cup in front of himself.
Minako was just gaping across the table at the man, "...I'm going to need to see proof of these claims."
"What, that I can skate kind-of?" Mikhail looked over at her.
She nodded, "You haven't set foot on the ice in the whole time we've known you."
"Well..." The elder Russian looked a bit skittish, "I guess it's not as big a deal now, but back last year when everyone was still making the joke about me being Vintage Viktor..."
The two sisters laughed, but Mari's eyes went comically wide where she sat between the ballerina and the older teen daughter, holding a glass to her mouth where she'd stopped moving.
"...I didn't want to give any other suggestion that that's all I was. Skating is Viktor's thing. I had to do everything I could to show people that I was different." Mikhail went on, sipping at the coffee again, "I bet I'd never have heard the end of it if people knew I could skate back then."
"Hockey's a bit different from figure skating though, pipaw." Viktoria pointed out, "And you skate backwards just fine."
The elder just shot her a look like he wanted her to stop giving everything away, but Viktor saw it and nudged the man with his elbow, "Uncle Mimi, it sounds to me like you should come with us tonight, too. Show us all your moves."
"Oohhh no, no no, I haven't skated in years."
Nikki leaned towards Yuri again, "It's been two years, tops."
"Oh bah, it's just like riding a bike. You'll get your ice-legs back in 30 seconds." The skating legend teased, leaning further aside to nudge with his shoulder instead, "C'mooonnnnn."
"Come skate with us, Uncle Mikhial!" Yuri added, "You too, Minako-sensei!"
The ballerina chortled, "You know I can't skate!"
"You're gonna have to learn if you want to be the best kind of coach!"
"Not even Lilia knew how to skate!"
"She was just a choreographer though! It wasn't as important!"
Yurio raised his eyes from his phone, trying to look inconspicuous despite having been plopped at the end of the table between the two 'parental units.' Despite being with the group physically, he still felt miles away from them all...at least until he could feel a certain pair of grey-green eyes looking down on him. He turned his emerald irises to the right, seeing the elder Russian looking back at him, "...What?"
"No phones at the table." Mikhail answered, giving a knowing smile and hoping the teen would put the device away on his own.
"I have nothing to contribute here." Yurio went back to the phone, poking at the screen with a finger next to his empty plate...at least, until another set of fingers clasped the top of it and pulled it right out of his sights, "Hey! What's the big idea!?"
Mikhail pocketed the phone inside his jacket where it was folded on the booth-bench between him and his nephew, "If there's ever a time where a family always comes together, consistently, every day...it's at the table. Breakfast, lunch, dinner...doesn't matter." He pat the cloth pile with one hand and turned to look at the flustered teen again, "Even if you don't think you have anything to add, this is where you at can least listen to one another."
Yurio just growled under his breath and slouched, hands gripping tightly to the edge of his seat between his knees.
"Have you told Yakov and Lilia about your plans yet?" The elder Russian went on, leaving the younger end of the table to chit-chatting amongst themselves again.
"No."
"When do you plan on it?"
"Nationals."
"Why are you waiting so long?" Mikhail wondered, "Wouldn't it be better to warn him now so he can teach you whatever else he thinks you need to know? Lilia's done a lot to help you out, too. You and Yakov even lived with her for a while."
"Living with her was like living in a military boot-camp."
The older figure leaned back against the seat in thought, resting an arm lazily over his nephew's shoulder, "I faintly recall picking you up from her place once...she had really nice digs."
"...It was a super-luxurious military boot-camp." Yurio said quieter with a slight groan of annoyance. He whipped his head back around and glared, "Look, living with her and Yakov wasn't exactly this picture-perfect family setting like you think it might've been. It was all business with them. Up at dawn, work until you can't walk anymore, go to bed, do it again the next day."
"I actually never thought of it like a family setting." Mikhail mused, "If it were, I'd have thought you'd be a bit more mellow by now."
The teen scoffed and turned his eyes away. He ground his teeth as he heard the four at the other end of the table laughing about something amongst themselves.
"All told, it might've been too far removed from it." The elder went on, drawing the teen out of his distraction, "On the few occasions where I saw Lilia, she seemed nice, but was very no-nonsense and kind of...how to put it delicately..."
"...Hard-nosed?" Minako offered.
"Close enough." Mikhail nodded, leaning forward to rest his forearms against the edge of the table, "Hardly any warmth there at all. Combine that with the awkwardness of having to live with her and Yakov, a divorced couple who are trying to maintain some level of professional decorum around their prized student...and, well, it's kind of a recipe for madness. I guessed ages back that half the reason you wanted to tag along with me so badly on my trips was because it got you out of the nut-house for a little while."
Yurio said nothing, but it was obvious enough that it was close to the truth.
"And that's part of why your grandpa moved up from Moscow after the Grand Prix last year, right?" Mikhail added, "Since that's the state I found you in."
"Sure."
"Speaking of Nikolai...have you told him about your plans yet?"
"...No."
The elder Russian smiled and sighed, "Why not? You're putting all this off to the last minute. Why do you want to surprise everyone?"
The blonde just grumbled and rose from his seat, hands on the table, and forcing all the mirth to leave the air, "I don't want to surprise anyone." He said stiffly, eyes hidden behind the lengths of his hair, "I just don't want to give anyone the time to try and talk me out of it. I've already made up my mind about it all...I don't want to hear it from anyone else anymore." He pushed off and started heading for the door, pulling his hoodie up and slipping his arms into his heavier winter jacket.
Everyone at the table watched him go, giving one another awkward side-glances as the doors jangled and snapped shut again. Minako sighed as she twisted back around on her chair, glancing at the elder Katsuki next to her, "Was he like that the whole way here?"
"Worse." Mari answered dubiously, "I tried making small-talk with him sometimes but he kept saying to just shut up and let him sleep. Felt like I was traveling alone in the end."
"Sorry to do that to you..." The ballerina rubbed the woman's back with her left hand, turning her eyes ahead towards her partner, "What should we do then? Yura's doing everything he can to fracture himself off from things."
"I thought things would get better again once we sorted out his living situation." Mikhail wondered, mostly to himself, sitting back against the booth again with a finger on his lip, "But he's even angrier now."
"He was in the conference hall earlier with Otabek, but he wouldn't come out to say hi when Viktor and I showed up." Yuri pointed out, "He's mad at us."
"What, because of the stuff he overheard you saying?"
"...You know about that?" Viktor wondered, "How?"
"We talked the morning you all left to come here." The elder silver answered, reaching to unfold his jacket and retrieve Yurio's phone before shaking the whole thing out and standing up, "He sounded like he hadn't slept at all that night."
"...You talked in the morning?" Yuri repeated, turning slightly towards his partner, "We thought you talked the night before, before he stormed off... Uh, the second time."
"Oh, no, we would've been on the road already." Mikhail said, slipping his arms into his heavy black coat, "I try not to chat on the phone while I'm driving. But, yeah...either way, we decided to have Minako be his coach specifically because of the argument you guys had about Vivi saying he wouldn't. I guess you haven't gotten over it yet."
"Us? Gotten over it?" Viktor echoed, "We tried to talk to him before we left for the airport, but he refused to answer us. We've done all we can. If he wants to act like this because he's all butt-hurt about what we said before that, I don't know what else to do."
The elder buttoned up the front of his coat and donned his flat-cap, "Well, you can start by not being smarmy about it." He huffed, "He's upset about it, not butt-hurt."
Viktor just made a face, "Sorry dad."
Mikhail rifled around in his pockets for his wallet, and pulled out one of his credit cards, handing it to his lady love, "Here, if they come bugging you for the bill before I get back."
"Verily, he doth go riding into battle once more." Minako mused dryly, holding the plastic between two fingers, "Don't be gone too long, hun. The boys all have to be at the arena by noon for practice."
"Yes dear." The Russian said endearingly, leaning down to kiss her quickly, "All in a day's work on this reality show... What's it called, 6 kids and counting?" He laughed.
"...S-six?" Minako answered in confusion, counting around the table and only seeing four candidates, plus the one that had stormed out. She felt a hot flush run through her entire body, and her heart was in her throat at the reminder of a certain possibility from earlier in the week. She could feel all the blood draining out of her head.
"We should adopt Mari next, don't you think?" Mikhail laughed, setting his hands on the unsuspecting woman's shoulders, "She's barely older than Vivi. She'd fit right in."
Viktoria and the SkateHusbands chuckled quietly at Mari's stunned expression, but Nikkita and Minako were both awkwardly silent, though the ballerina tried to muster an anxious smile, realizing he'd probably not meant that. Mikhail pushed off after that though, heading towards the doors and pushing on the glass-paned frame to get outside. His youngest daughter was quick to follow after him, putting her jacket on as she rushed and braced against the cold despite the mild questions that trailed behind her.
"Welp..." The older teen watched the doors close after her sister, "That was awkward."
"Maybe he needs to go back to therapy." The now-eldest Russian huffed, "All the time we've been travelling, he hasn't been seeing anyone."
"Was he even still going as recently as before the Grand Prix?" Yuri wondered, "I'm not even sure how many sessions he had...it was all started months ago." He turned towards his former ballet instructor, though the woman still seemed a bit catatonic, "...Minako-sensei?"
"...Huh?" She twitched and turned back to see the young skater, "What?"
"...You okay?" He wondered instead, "You look pale."
"I-It's nothing!" The woman insisted, waving her hands around frantically, "I just...uh...can't believe how Mikhail thinks all of you are his and/or our kids. A week ago I didn't have any. ...Well, I guess one if we count you."
"Oh pfft." Yuri huffed, pointing a teasing finger in her direction, "The way you referred to all your ballet students as your kids, even back when I was still in your classes regularly...I'd say you probably have a couple hundred out there across Hasestu and greater Kyushu."
"Kids that I could send home at the end of the day." She laughed nervously, "Now...or, well...soon...home is going to be where at least three of them will still be."
"At least we're all basically grown up." Viktoria quipped, nudging the woman with a finger as she reached around the back of Mari's seat, "You don't have to go through the horrible transition of us growing from screaming whelps, into toddler-monsters, into cootie-ridden children, and then angsty pre-teens."
The remainder of the group at the table laughed...but Minako was deathly absent from the fanfare.
"...Yeah..."
Outside, it wasn't easy to track the Russian Tiger through the compacted snow, but Mikhail eventually found him sitting on a bench near the side-entrance, staring at the front of the rental van. Before he had a chance to approach though, he could hear the sound of the bell and the door clambering open behind him, and he turned back to see Nikki come rushing up as well, taking hold of his arm.
"Papa...!" She whispered.
"Sweetie, go back inside, I gotta deal with this." He answered back quietly, leaning down to kiss the top of her head, "Go on." He put a hand on the small of her back to try and usher her back towards the front doors.
"I want to help though."
Mikhail blinked at her.
"He's supposed to be like our new brother, right? Maybe he'll have an easier time getting used to the way we are if he has someone his own age helping him along. He's only a year and a half older than I am."
"He can be pretty abrasive when he's upset."
"Has he ever been mean to Minako?"
The elder pursed his lips in thought, "...Come to think of it...other than calling her 'old lady' sometimes, I don't think so..."
"See?" Nikki smiled hopefully, "It'll be fine."
"Uhodi!" Yurio barked at them, having heard them just from their shoes crunching in the snow.
Mikhail huffed, "...Well, it'll be fine if he speaks in English..."
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Uhodi = Go away
