CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED SIXTY ONE

Yakov watched in confused silence as Yurio walked out of the back of the prep area without another word, and without an explanation as to his behavior. Seeing the two young teen ladies going after him was a bit confusing as well; in his mind, Yakov knew exactly who they were...the silver-grey hair made that plainly obvious. However, it made their existence no-less easy to reconcile.

Vitya spent 2/3rds of his life avoiding the very concept of family, and yet now, members of it seem to be falling from the sky like rain.

He glanced out through the glass wall to where Viktor was being 'held hostage' in the bleachers by his Swiss friend.

Everything is changing so fast for him. I wonder if he even realizes?

The elder coach tapped the front of his hat before moving towards the stairwell that lead down to rink-side, leaving Lilia to her own devices for a while. The woman's lime-green eyes watched him go, curious, but not so much to follow him. When the older man stepped down onto the polished concrete floor, he spotted Viktor's blade-guards still perched on the lip of the rink-wall, leaning against a pair he could only assume were Yuri's. He grabbed for the rubber bars that he knew he recognized and started making his way for the bleacher stairs.

Viktor was already keen on the man's path, but most of his focus was still on the delirium of having witnessed his partner vaulting into the quad Lutz despite his promise not to jump during practice. His one uncovered eye followed the defiant young skater as he traced slow paths around the rink with Phichit. Every so often, Yuri would glance back up at him, but he'd look away again quickly for fear of the proverbial 'resting bitch-face' that the Russian bore.

Chris looked between the two quietly for a while, still half-smiling at Viktor's rather childish behavior, but then lifted his cheek off of where it had been resting against his knuckles, and reached that hand over to nudge the Russian's shoulder, "Your face is going to get stuck like that."

"He promised me he wouldn't jump." Viktor said sternly, "And he jumped anyway."

"I know."

"Doesn't he understand how important it is that he give himself as much time to recover as he can, before he doesn't have a choice anymore?" The silver skater continued, finally calm enough that he could speak in a more mature tone, "It's like he thinks this is some game."

Chris shrugged and replaced his knuckles under his cheek lazily, "So far as I'm aware, Yuri doesn't remember anything from the accident. He was just putting his skates on in one instant, and woke up in a hospital bed under an unfamiliar ceiling the next."

Viktor just gaped at him, "He has staples in his head. He's also seen the video of the fall. How can he not act like it happened in the face of all the evidence?"

"I'm not saying he disbelieves it happened." The younger skater explained, "I'm just saying that he might be approaching it a bit differently than you are. He's experiencing the pain of the accident...you experienced the fear of it, and in a way, that's much worse. You went on for hours not knowing what was going to happen. To him, it happened in a heartbeat...a flash of black and a change of scenery."

Viktor slouched even further in his seat, carefully setting the naked gold blades against the back-rest of the seat in front of him, "He's so difficult to read right now." He muttered in frustration, "Ever since he woke up, his mood swings like a pendulum... I know it's normal, that's what the docs said to expect, but..." His tone was even quieter then, his RBF switching to something more anxious and worried.

Chris looked over at him, "But?"

The Russian waited a moment, then drew in a breath, "I don't know what I'm doing." He admitted sullenly, "Even this morning..."

"Mhm?"

He hesitated again, but closed his eyes and just said the words, "Sometimes he just...wants to be intimate because it makes him feel better in his head. He wanted that before we went to that pseudo-press-conference. But I just...I couldn't do a thing to please him, and it's been killing me." He perched his elbows on the arm-rests and created something of a screen over his eyes where he laced his fingers together above them, pressing thumbs and the sides of his hands against his forehead, "It was so bad that even I couldn't finish... I've never had to fake it before with him, but for the sake of getting to that meeting on time..."

"Mh..."

Viktor grumbled a bit more, "He said he got what he needed out of it, but I feel like I lied to him anyway."

"Are you using condoms?" The Swiss figure asked point-blank, his expression not even changing as he spoke.

The Russian peeked out from under the veil of fingers, giving a confused look, "...No? We're exclusive. What difference does it make?"

"If you aren't, then he knows you didn't finish, and he isn't holding it against you."

"Maybe he just isn't admitting it." Viktor went back to his brooding posture.

"Or maybe what's happening on the ice right now is analogous to what happened in bed." Chris offered, "So he's trying to make it up to you by showing you that he's not completely broken."

"He's just scaring me now." The silver Russian sighed, pushing up a little as he saw Yakov getting closer out the corner of his uncovered eye, "I'm really trying to keep my shit together, but inside I'm completely freaking out at this point. I want to withdraw him but I just...I can't stand to break his heart like that... He was up in the middle of the night crying because of it. He's absolutely terrified that all the pain and struggle of the GP Series will be for nothing now."

Rubber blade-guards were handed to him by the quiet older coach, and Viktor took them just as quietly, putting them into place before setting his skates down properly to the floor. Yakov took the seat next to him.

"I want to do right by him..." The silver skater went on, "As his coach, I know I shouldn't let him skate. But as his partner, I know I can't stop him. I'm trying to find some kind of happy medium where I just do my best to make it so he doesn't get hurt again..."

"Vitya," The elder coach finally spoke, pulling the dark hat off his head and setting it on the end of one knee, "You still have so much to learn about coaching."

"I know..."

"I can tell that you've tried to forbid Yuri from doing jumps,"

"'Tried' being the operative word." Viktor confirmed bitterly.

"But you know better than anyone that telling a young and promising athlete that they're not allowed to do something isn't going to stop them." Yakov explained, "That spirit of rebellion is practically at the core of your entire being."

Slate eyes just stared forward, looking at the ice, though nothing in particular upon it.

"And if you don't have the guts to pull Yuri from the event, then you're going to have to do something almost as drastic to deal with that."

Both skaters looked over at the man, each wondering what that 'something' might be.

Yakov kept looking straight though, watching the three competitors going about their idle business on the ice, "Admit to yourself the uncomfortable truths about what this event is. We've already lost one competitor to injury, and were lucky to have the 7th place finalist in the building to pick up the slack. But Yuri is going to feel the weight of the entire Grand Prix on his shoulders. ...I overheard you talking about it earlier, that you would withdraw as well if you felt no other choice but to pull him. The Men's event will be cancelled if there are only four participants. What do you think that's going to do to that kid's head?"

"That's part of why I'm so mad at him right now." Viktor explained, "Trying that quad Lutz when I specifically told him not to do jumps... I know he just wanted to prove to himself that he could still do it, but to me, it's just one more reason why I should force him out. But then it'd just be this huge, ugly fight where Yuri blames himself for what happens after that, and I just...can't do that to him..."

"You did yourself a disservice by falling in love with your student, Vitya."

"...Other way around." The skater corrected quietly, "I fell for him long before I went to Hasetsu. Coaching him was just an excuse to be with him."

"That's a fine grave you've dug for yourself then."

"...I know..." Viktor pushed to sit further upright, but then leaned forward to set his crossed arms over his legs, staring down at the floor between his boots, "I just don't know how to be effective as both a coach and a husband now. To do the right thing as one would be to betray him as the other. I can't win..."

"You walk a fine line, that much is true." The elder agreed, "Maybe you've taken on more than you can handle."

"It was so much easier last year." The younger Russian sighed, lifting his head a bit to look down at the rink briefly, then aside to his former coach, "This whole season so far...at every single event, something has happened. It feels like it's just gotten worse and worse each passing week. If I retire after the Final, it'll be because I just can't deal with the stress anymore."

"That isn't all you've been dealing with." Yakov pointed out, clasping his fingers together above his lap casually, "Is it?" His tone was more of an invitation to elaborate than to be inquisitive or curious.

Viktor blinked at him, and turned his head out to the rink again, watching where Yuri was practicing a few simple moves in the field; a mohawk, a 3-turn, cross-overs, and the like. He shook his head and lowered his gaze again, "No... I was already mentally and physically exhausted from the actual bad things that happened this season already, but now I just feel beyond drained. I have no energy left in my spirit to care about anything other than Yuri, and even that feels like less than it should be." He sighed and ruffled his hair with one hand, combing his bangs with his fingers idly, "I'm so depleted emotionally right now. I had a brief second-wind after my last Free Skate, but now I'm empty. I'm not even running on fumes at this point...I'm just done..."

"What else is going on?"

Viktor huffed a hollow laugh, "If I get started, I'll never shut up."

"You're a dam bursting at the edges. If you don't relieve some of the pressure, you're going to burst, and then you won't be any good to anybody." Chris pointed out, poking him in the side lightly with one finger.

The Russian turned one eye towards him, looking through the gaps in his hair, but then looked down again and shook his head lightly, "...If that's what you want." He leaned back to slouch against the chair, one hand coming up to pinch at the opening in his team jacket where he'd never bothered to zip it closed, "...Uncle Mimi plans to move to Hasetsu. Him and Minako-sensei are a serious thing now, to the point where they're engaged. On the surface, I'm happy for him, for both of them...but way deep down, I'm just watching everything play-out exactly how I warned him that it better not."

"How do you mean?" The Swiss figure wondered.

"When Mimi first turned up, and for a really long time after that, I was worried he was trying to snake his way into my life for some nefarious, sinister reason..." Viktor started, thinking back on it like it had just happened the day before, "But the thing is, he was my hero when I was a kid. I have more memories of him than I do my own parents. But...he left me. I was barely 5 years old and he turned my entire existence upside down. It took years to pick up the pieces. I was lucky to have found skating when I did...I'm not sure I'd still be here if not for the ice. It took until the end of Trophée de France just to trust him enough to regard him as anything other than 'Uncle.'"

"...Trophée de France was 3 weeks ago." Chris pointed out, "That guy's been hovering since Worlds."

"And in 3 weeks, he's gone from being this on-again-off-again long-lost relative that I barely know...to dragging my father to NHK, and now...bringing almost his entire family to my home. He's weaving himself so deeply into my family that I can't stop it anymore, or even slow it down. I just..." He drew in a long breath and exhaled it in almost a whined tone, "...I feel like I've completely lost control of the situation. All I can do is cling to Yuri and hope that I can salvage some kind of normalcy with him so I can ignore the rest. On top of that...now Yurio is moving to Hasetsu, too, and I jus-"

"What?" Yakov turned his head slowly, "Say that last part again?"

Viktor cautiously lifted his gaze, giving a confused look, "...Yurio...is moving...to Hasetsu...too?"

"When? Why? Who decided?"

The Russian side-eyed his Swiss friend worriedly, "He hasn't told you?"

"This is the first I've heard."

"Ah Hell." Viktor lamented, slouching yet again, almost sliding off the end of the seat if not for his knees brushing up against the chair in front of him, "I thought he would've told you by now. He's been cantankerous for days because of stuff relating to it."

"He's always cantankerous." Yakov pointed out, "Explain."

The young Russian skater whined quietly, "...Uncle Mimi suggested Yurio live with him and Minako, to give him the experience of a 'real family,' before he's too old to make the most of it. He agreed, and thought to ask me to be his new coach in Hasetsu...but I declined, and now it's the whole thing has turned into this giant, stressful shit-show."

The elder coach listened closely.

"Mimi's been trying to sort things out, but Yurio's furious at me for refusing him, and he's taking it out on Yuri, too, because Yuri had the gall to suggest that maybe things would be better if Yurio stayed in St. Petersburg." Viktor went on, crossing his arms over his chest, "I'm so tired from everything else that I can't muster the energy to care about what Yurio thinks of me right now...but the way he makes Yuri feel bothers me a lot. I get that Yuri means a lot to him these days, and I respect that, but for all of his gains since last year...Yurio still has a penchant for saying incredibly insensitive things when he gets a wild hair up his arse about something, and when he gets into one of those moods, he's absolutely vicious, even to Yuri. I'm not going to be the reason that the opportunity arises for it to happen on a regular basis." He tilted his head towards his former coach, "The last time the two of them talked, they screamed at each other. The time before that, Yurio did all the screaming, and Yuri came away from it in tears. Am I supposed to just sit back and let it happen because they're 'friends'?"

Yakov drew in a stiff breath, trying to take in all the information and process it. He just shook his head and reached a hand over to pat his former pupil's knee, "Yuratchka is a hand-full, that's obvious. But...and this is just a thought...that might only be when you're around."

Viktor huffed, "Mimi once said the same thing."

"When Yuri trains in Russia, you're a thousand miles away. He's calm, collected, focused even. I've even seen him smile on occasion, and laugh once in a while, too. As soon as you two are in the same room though, it's like bombs go off. It's entirely possible that him and your Yuri can be good friends...but not if you're there."

"Sounds like Yurio needs to do a Rage Skate like Viktor did." Chris suggested idly, "Just put it all out there and then let it go, for good and all."

"Hmph..." The silver skater huffed.

Yakov half-nodded, "In either case...it sounds like you have a full plate. For the remainder of the weekend, think only about the competition. That reduces your load to only two problems...yourself, and Katsuki. Nothing else matters except figuring out which of you is getting on that podium tomorrow night, and doing so in the safest possible way. You said that Mikhail is trying to sort Yuri out...so let him. I'll be having my own chat with him at some point, given light on these new circumstances."

Viktor gave a nervous look, "...Could you...maybe not mention it?"

"I can't unreact to this news, Vitya." Yakov said, pushing to stand up again, lifting his hat back to his head.

"I know, but...maybe he had his reasons for not telling you yet. If you go to him with the knowledge you have about his plans, it'll come across like you think he was lying to you through omission. Then he'll figure out it was me who told you, and it'll be another huge problem to add to the list of reasons why he hates me." The skater explained, sitting up a bit straighter, "...I'd like to attempt to get through this weekend without having more problems arise. So if you really want me to be able to focus on getting Yuri and I through to the end of the competition...please don't tell Yurio about what you know."

Dark eyes looked down from under the brim of the black hat, but the coach drew in a loud breath, and then nodded as he exhaled, "...Fine. Then you do me a favor and go down there and help your student prepare for tonight. He's not learning how to manage his situation by doing footwork drills. He needs his coach, and you only have 30 minutes left before the rink is closed."

Crystal blue eyes opened wide, and Viktor rose up to his feet; Chris did the same soon after. The Russian stepped forward, wrapping his thin arms around the gruff older man's thick frame, "Spasibo, Yakov. You're still the best coach I've ever had." He quickly leaned to the side to kiss the man's cheek, and then swiftly moved to get between him and the lower row of seats, blade-guards thunk'ing across the floor as he moved.

Yakov watched him go in solemn quiet, humming a breath to himself.

Vitya...