CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED FIFTY FOUR

[Why do you always have to come running after me like this?] Yurio said bitterly in his Mother-Tongue, knees pulled up into his jacket to keep them warm so only his head and shoes poked out.

Mikhail stepped up closer with Nikkita in tow, brushed off some of the snow from the open part of the bench, and sat down, keeping about a foot of distance between him and the Russian Tiger. The silver teen sat as well, but on her papa's knee since her coat didn't go low enough to make a good butt-protector. She looked on quietly at her father, and he looked aside to Yurio.

"I keep coming after you because you're important to me." The elder answered simply, putting his hands in his coat pockets to keep them shielded from the crisp winter air, "I only wish you'd stop running away. One day you're going to run so far that I can't find you."

Emerald eyes stayed low, one covered by pale golden hair, the other obscured enough by the hoodie that it couldn't be seen. He scowled either way, [I'm not running away. I just stepped out.]

"Why though?"

[Why's everything got to have some kind of hidden meaning to you? I just wanted some air, Christ.]

"You sure are angry for someone who just wanted some air."

[I'd still be inside if you hadn't taken my phone away.]

"Distancing yourself from the other people at the table, you mean." Mikhail shrugged, "I get that you don't want to talk to Viktor and Yuri, but that doesn't mean you have to alienate the rest of us, too." He pulled one hand out of his pocket and reached into the chest pocket of his dark-colored woolen coat, retrieving the teen's phone and handing it back towards him, "You're going to have a rough time in Hasetsu if you just try to lock yourself in your room all the time. That's not what family is about."

[What, so you're saying I won't get any time on my own? That's a load.] Yurio swiped the device and pulled his arms back into his jacket like a turtle's head being retracted into its shell.

"I didn't say that." The elder returned his hand to his pocket, "We all need space and solitude once in a while...but on occasion, what we need more than that is each other. I know you've had a rough time with that sort of support system because your own parents were basically absent, and all you had were your grandpa, coach, and rink-mates...but times change and people do too. I know you still kind of hold it against Viktor for leaving St. Petersburg, b-"

"I don't care."

Nikki twitched to sitting up a bit straighter, caught off guard by the older teen's sudden English, thinking briefly that it was something in Russian that just sounded like a coherent English sentence. She turned just her eyes towards her father, but he remained calm and didn't flinch at all.

"...But as a rink-mate," The man went on, undeterred from his point, "...Even if he is nearly twice your age, Viktor was more like a brother than a father-figure, and like all siblings, eventually you go your own way. Viktor followed his heart to Japan. Sergio left the nest to finish school and go on to college. My girls will both eventually leave, too..." He reached out to stroke his daughter's long, wavy hair, "...And in time, so will you." Mikhail moved his hand aside and dared to reach across, resting his wrist on the teen's nearest shoulder, "That doesn't mean we stop caring about one another."

[Yeah, sure, whatever.] Yurio growled, sinking his face down against his knees so nothing of his face could be seen, [I'll believe shit I overheard in a hot-tub sooner than I believe some pre-thought speech.]

"Hm...that again..."

"What is it, papa?" Nikki wondered, shivering a bit against the cold; her black leggings did little to keep her warm, but she was determined to stay where she was.

The silver elder held his free arm forward, and the teen leaned a shoulder down against his chest, "He overheard Viktor and Yuri talking about him and came away from it feeling like he was under attack." He explained, turning his head slightly to look at the tightly-stretched jacket covering the SkateSon, "Yuri, I may not truly know exactly what was said, but I think I know those two well enough to say that, whatever it was, it probably wasn't meant to hurt you."

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"...Maybe it'd just be easier if Yurio stays in St. Petersburg, and Mikhail just goes between all these places like he did last year."

"Da. It's not our problem until someone makes it our problem." Viktor agreed, "Let them figure it out on their own."

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Yurio grit his teeth at the bitter memory of those words, feeling them cutting deep all over again, [Maybe only because they didn't expect me to be listening to them. Apparently they care so little now about what I think that Yuri wouldn't even answer me when I called to ask about his fall.]

Mikhail could feel his daughter shivering against him, and drew in a breath, patting her arm and rising to sit up as she did the same to make way. He quickly rifled through his pockets again and found the keys to the rental, clicking the Unlock button on the FOB and handing the whole thing over to his daughter, "Honey, turn the van on and crank the heat up. I'll be back in a second. You two should get warm."

"...Okay." The girl nodded and held the keys in both hands, rising up onto her feet as the elder Russian followed suit and flattened out his coat with his hands.

Yurio lifted his head just enough to see the dark shape moving back towards the diner, and then turned his eyes towards the silver-haired younger teen still nearby. He quickly looked away though when she turned to look at him in turn, and reluctantly uncoiled himself from the innards of his jacket as he heard the van's driver's side door open and the engine start. He piled into the back, going to the furthest rear seat like before, and then hunkered down, waiting for the warm air to breeze past his face.

Nikki waited in the driver's seat for a moment, holding her hands out against the vents as the heater kicked in, blowing hot air between her fingers. She looked around, her small frame feeling ill-suited to the immensity of the front of the big vehicle. By the time she was looking into the back of the van, she could barely spy the top of Yurio's hoodie past the edge of the second row of seats. She drew in a breath and bit lightly on her lower lip, unsure what to say to him, if anything at all. Instead, she just held to the edge of the seat-shoulder, and leaned into the chair, waiting for her papa to come back.

Within the restaurant, Mikhail walked back up towards the table, but had his eyes set on the younger of the SkateHusbands.

Yuri could practically feel the look before he realized the man was even there again, and glanced up, pointing at himself as a nod came his way. He twitched a little, feeling a flutter in his chest, "...W-What is it?"

"I know it's a stretch, but is there any chance you remember exactly what you guys said in the onsen that Yura got all mad about?"

The skater glanced towards his husband briefly, and each of them looked up in thought. Viktor put a finger on his lip, "...He let us know he was there when Yuri was asking if Yurio had directly asked me if I'd be his coach. I said no, and Yurio chimed in saying that the idea was heavily implied."

"What about before that? Like, the minute or so leading up to it." The elder wondered further.

"Uhhh..." Yuri scratched the un-injured side of his chin, "A minute was probably all we had before Yurio made himself known. Viktor and I sat in the onsen, we drank some shōchu, and talked briefly about how Yurio had gone by the Ice Castle after Phichit-kun and I had left to go have dinner. Yuuko-chan said Yurio left looking really upset after finding out I wasn't there, but Viktor still was, so I asked if he knew why Yurio was upset. I didn't think it made sense for him to be mad just because I wasn't around."

The younger silver nodded, "I explained that Yurio had come in and really vaguely referenced a conversation he and you had had," He pointed at his uncle, "But then left in a huff when I said Yuri had gone out."

"So then we talked about how you'd mentioned to Yurio that you were making plans to move to Hasetsu," Yuri continued, "...And how Viktor seemed a bit...er...well, unimpressed about the whole thing."

Mikhail quirked a brow, but Viktor wasn't looking.

"...Mostly about how things would be back home once you had your kids with you. The meeting in Calgary left us both a bit nervous."

The elder nodded in understanding.

"But then I'd said that I hoped we didn't give you the impression that we wanted you to solve the 'Yurio Problem' for us, since you'd already done so much for him over the past year."

"...Did you actually call it that? The 'Yurio Problem'?" Mikhail wondered dubiously.

"Well..." Yuri felt guilty, and a bit evasive.

Viktor shrugged and leaned back against the booth, gently stroking his hand down his partner's back where he'd been leaning forward against the table, "We thought that maybe it would be easier if Yurio just stayed in St. Petersburg, and that you go between locations like you did last year. I thought that since you'd already started trying to sort things out though, that we should just leave you to it, and not butt in. It's not our problem until someone makes it our problem."

"That's when I pointed out that if Yurio agreed to move to Hasetsu, he would need a new coach, and you know the rest." Yuri finished, "I did try to go after him, but he just screamed at me and slammed his bedroom door in my face. Viktor and I went home after that."

Mikhail put a finger on his lip in thought, humming quietly to himself with a breath. After a moment, he reached up to adjust his hat, and looked back at them directly again, "What about when you guys said you tried to talk to him before you left for the airport?"

The younger skater leaned back as well then, the hand that had been stroking his back rising up to hang over his shoulder instead, "Viktor had already gone upstairs to see if Yurio was there, but by the time Phichit-kun and I showed up, it wasn't even certain that he was. I knocked on the door and spoke in a normal tone, saying that I didn't want us to leave on bad terms."

The Russian next to him nodded as the words were spoken, then lifted his head to continue, "I tried to explain that my reasoning for not wanting to be his coach wasn't out of spite."

"Then I said that we knew about your plans for Minako-sensei to be his coach instead anyway, and that we were happy for him. We both think the change of pace and that having a real family to go home to, rather than just Potya or us, would be great for him. Cats and SkateDads are neat but they're no substitution for parents, or stand-ins." Yuri went on, his rationale making sense even if Yurio's reactions didn't, "I even said that it would be pretty neat to train together at the Ice Castle, like we used to in St. Petersburg, when we both had different coaches even though we skated on the same ice."

"Yurio never once answered us though." Viktor finished, "But we're pretty sure he was in there since no one had seen him leave the resort."

"And that was just after you'd talked to Minako, right?" Mikhail wondered, piecing together the timeline, "Which would've only been a couple of hours after I talked to him."

"I guess so." Yuri answered simply.

"Did it occur to you guys that he was asleep?"

"Sure." The younger Russian said, tilting the edge of his hand against the table, "But we were being pretty loud, and the resort walls aren't exactly thick. He'd have to have been in a vegetative state not to wake up, even if he only heard the end of it. He need only come to the door and we'd have said it all again if we had to."

"So you guys haven't knowingly talked to one another since he overheard you in the hot-spring."

Yuri glanced aside again, but then looked back and shook his head.

Mikhail drew in a sharp breath and turned on his heel, "Aright...back into the frying pan."

"Hun," Minako stopped him, holding up her phone, "It's 11:30. We need to get moving."

"Give me 10 minutes before you all start coming to the van. I'll figure something out." He waved and kept going, pushing back through the double set of doors and out into the blustery cold...only to come bursting back in again, hands still on the edge of the door-frame. Just as he was about to speak, the wind from outside blew through and knocked his hat off the front of his head, falling to the floor with a klop. He huffed and reached down to swipe it, flopping it back onto his head, "Yuri...!"

"Y-Yessir!" The skater was stiff as a board, as though a drill-sergeant had called him out.

"Why didn't you answer Yura's phone-call when he tried to reach out about your accident?" The elder asked point-blank, as though he'd nearly forgotten to detail.

Yuri just looked at him blankly, aghast at the suggestion that he'd ever ignored anyone's call. He pulled his phone out of his coat-pile and held it up, pointing at its black screen weakly with his free hand, "My phone is dead. We forgot to plug it in after Viktor got my stuff back from Chris. I'm sure I have a ton of unanswered messages, missed calls, and texts on here that I can't and won't be able to see until I charge it."

"Call home, baka." Mari said into her empty juice glass.

"Wakatta, wakatteru yo!"

Mikhail returned the stunned look, left cheek twitching up against his eye. He looked up at the ceiling in dismay, "Ë-moë." He turned back to the young skater, "Would you come out here, please?"

Yuri just blinked those brown eyes and gave a dumbfounded look, "...Eh?"

"Idi za mnoj!"

"Idon'tspeakRussianMikhail!" He called back, flustered, but getting the point either way and grabbing his jacket. As he scooted out from his spot on the booth-bench, he spotted the black-clad silver figure disappear through the doors again, and gave a drawn out sigh. Standing up, he threaded his arms through the dark blue woolen coat, and turned to give his husband a look like he wasn't sure what to expect, "I almost long for the days when Yurio's anger was just perpetual and didn't have to make sense." He said, wrapping his scarf over his shoulders and tying it in front of his chest.

Viktor just watched in silent curiosity, "Well, if Uncle Mimi can sort this all out before tonight, then all the better. I don't want to have to pull you from the event because I anticipate you flubbing your jumps."

"Wh-What!?" Yuri nearly jumped out of his skin, "You can't mean that!"

"You drop when you're worried about stuff." The Russian pointed out, looking up through his bangs with those piercing crystal-blue eyes, "You don't have the luxury of getting to do that. If I think you're going to fall, it's my responsibility as your coach to do the right thing."

The young skater just resigned to the truth of it and sighed wearily, "...Hai...Viktor-kōchi..."

The older figure saw the worried, disappointed, nervous look on his partner's face, even as Yuri tried focusing on just doing up the buttons on the front of his coat. He reached a pale hand forward and tugged on the nearest dark-colored sleeve, pulling the man's left arm forward himself, and curled his fingers around the hand, kissing the back, "Yuri, as your coach and biggest fan, I have to do what's best for you, so you can survive this accident and live on to skate another day." He looked up into those anxious cherry-hazel eyes, "And as your husband, I'd really rather you come off the ice on your own two feet, rather than a stretcher. I already saw you leave on one once...I can't go through that again."

Yuri nodded, and curled his finger as well, holding to the Russian's fingers where they pressed against his palm, "...I know, I'm sorry... I'm being selfish again."

"I get it...don't worry." Viktor went on, pulling on that hand lightly to get the figure to lean down, and reached up with his free hand to touch it gently to his partner's cheek, kissing him lightly, "If I end up having to pull you from the Grand Prix, I'll drop as well. I won't skate if you don't."

"V-Viktor!" The younger skater was horrified, "You can't do that! You have to skate! This is your big come-back!"

"We succeed together, and we fail together." The Russian said firmly, "In life, in love, in skating...in all of it. I won't go where I can't have you by my side."

Viktoria and Minako were practically weeping rivers at the man's sonnet of words, but Mari was just deadpanning both where she sat pinned between them.

Yuri stood upright and gave a defiant look, "Then I guess I better make sure Yurio isn't the reason you miss out on the Silver medal!" He smirked and quickly took off after that, leaving Viktor to blink in stunned confusion.

"...S-Silver...?" He echoed, "YOU MEAN GOLD!"

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Baka = Idiot/Moron/Stupid

Wakatta, wakatteru yo! = I know, I know already!

Ë-moë = (Exaspirated tone) Bloody Hell/Goddamnit/Oh brother/You gotta be kidding me

Idi za mnoj = Follow me