CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED NINETY FOUR
Asahi nervously stepped back as Viktor held onto Yuri in the vice-grip, and warily pointed back the way he intended to go, "...I...guess I'll go put my stuff away before it's my turn. I'll be right back?"
The Russian waved a few fingers where he could and watched the younger figure practically prance away in retreat, only releasing his husband once Asahi was out of sight and ear-shot.
Yuri, of course, heaved for air as he stumbled to regain his bearings, "...What was all that about!?" He whined, giving the man a dirty look.
Viktor just gave a dubious glance back from behind his bangs, "Why are you inviting him to Yu-Topia?"
"You just said that we were his friends! I'm trying to be friendly!"
"By suggesting we all sit in the hot-spring together!?"
"I never said 'together'!" Yuri argued.
Viktor just gaped slightly, but drew a sharp breath, "You said he should sit in the onsen because he skipped out on the offer the other night, which at the time was implied as an invitation to sit with all of us. Ergo...'sit with all of us' includes me, and you."
The Russian was given a rather severe deadpan, only for the gears to turn in Yuri's brain, and he quickly looked away again, somewhat red-faced, "...I said 'you should sit in the onsen.' I didn't imply that we'd be sitting with him." He muttered quietly, largely unheard.
"Why are you so ready to pretend nothing happened?" Viktor asked then, a bit more serious than scolding, "I mean, I have no problem with trying to mend fences. I'm on board with that. But...the onsen? That's a naked place. Did you already forget how often I showed off for you before?"
The hue on Yuri's cheeks deepened to scarlet, "How could I forget? You were hanging out all over the place... I just... Other than you, I never really thought of anyone sitting in the spring as being all that sexual... It's a bath, not a brothel."
"Have you already forgotten how much crap I got after NHK?" Viktor wondered, switching Jiro from one arm to the other to give the former a break, "I didn't understand it at the time, and I think you'll realize it later yourself...but you're too quick to want to forgive and forget. Believe me, I understand how appealing that is... When someone gives you an inch towards something you desperately want, it's easy to let your guard down and let them in. But this isn't something that happened months or even years ago. It happened on Friday." He reached for his phone in his breast-pocket, "I can practically tell you how many hours ago that was..."
"But it's so obvious how sorry he is and how bad he feels about everything... I understand now, more than I did before, why he did what he did... I don't want him to feel guilty about it on top of everything else." Yuri tried to explain, reaching a hand forward to signal that Viktor didn't have to keep seeking, "At least I didn't suggest we go with him to Wakkanai..."
"YuriIsweartoGodifyoudo-"
"I know!" He protested, reaching both hands up to cover his spouse's mouth before anything else could be said or done, "I wanted to ask you about it first!"
Viktor snorted like an angry bull behind those hands.
"Fine! We won't!" Yuri threw his arms up then, exasperated, but then lowered them to take the pup for a little while, getting a few cheek-licks in the process, "I want to do everything for him that I normally would for anyone else... He's been through something so horrible, it breaks my heart to empathize... I don't want him to be alone. He's already done so much by himself."
"This is his journey, Yuri. It's no different than when I went to go deal with my mother's funeral on my own."
"It's completely different." The younger figure sighed, turning his head from Jiro to his husband, "You left me behind because you didn't want me to see all the stuff that you hadn't even told me about yet... You said it yourself, that when it was over, you wanted to forget it ever happened, and go back to being just us, like none of it ever came up. But then Mikhail showed up at the rink anyway, and now we're here, better and stronger for it all."
Viktor deadpanned him, "I'm not sure this is better."
"Aside from the current drama between you and your Uncle. We are going to visit your father for a few days, aren't we? Would that have ever been possible if we hadn't interacted with him?"
The Russian mumbled something under his breath.
"Just think about it...there's still plenty of time." Yuri suggested, "We weren't even going to head to Russia for a week anyway."
"Yeah, cuz we wanted to stay home and relax for a few minutes before we left again. Are you allergic to relaxing?" Viktor gave a desperate look, "Are you snooze-intolerant? Do you need a doctor?"
"NoViktorIdon'tneedadoctor."
"Then pleeaaassssse let us take it easy for this coming week." The Russian brought his hands up, fingers clasped together as he begged, "I just want to sit on the couch and veg until our flight."
That only earned him a quiet growl between grit teeth.
"We don't even know when he plans on going! It might be when we're out of town already!"
Yuri sighed and shook his head, but nodded, relenting to the man's pleading, "Alright, alright..."
Viktor nearly collapsed from the relief, slouching where he stood until he felt a hand snaking around his side and back, going into his coat, and pulled him forward. Yuri pressed a shoulder against his chest, and looked up into him with those big brown eyes.
"When you're right, you're right..." The younger figure admitted, "It hadn't even crossed my mind that Asahi might wait a bit before he makes that trip. For some reason, I just assumed he'd go right away, because that's what I would do..."
"He's put it off for two years already. One more week isn't going to make much difference."
"...The anniversary of it is tomorrow though." Yuri pointed out, "All things considered, I'm surprised he's even going south from here in the first place. If it were me, I'd be going straight north."
"...I'm not sure the dead care too much about anniversaries. Funerals are for the living, after all." Viktor explained, even as he returned the hug with both of his arms, "That's what sucks so much about dying. The party keeps going, but you have to leave."
"So you don't think there's anything else after that?"
"I can't claim to know one way or another." The Russian explained tepidly, "All I know is what I can say from my own point of view. Other than in my own head, the dead have never called on me, visited me, or given me any reason to believe they're hidden behind some spooky invisible curtain...and on the other hand, if I were the dead person, and I could reach out, as many claim? You'd bet your ass, there's nothing in this world or the next that would stop me. There isn't a paradise, nirvana, or Valhalla I could go to that would ever bring me peace, knowing I'm leaving the people I care the most about behind. I would raise Hell on earth to be with my loved ones again."
Yuri wasn't sure how to answer to that.
"And yet, we always say to the departed, 'rest in peace.' There would be no peace if my consciousness continued beyond that. If I had my memories intact, and I was expected to be able to answer prayers and offer some sign that I was still around...? I'd be breaking every plate and vase in Yu-Topia to get you to notice. I'd be screaming into every mic you left on, and I wouldn't be giving calm, one word answers to stupid questions either... But that's not really what happens." Viktor went on, spotting Asahi with his coach and choreographer as the man headed for the curtain to rink-side. He gave a nod of acknowledgment before turning to look down at his spouse again to finish his previous thought, "The feelings we get about the dead are the ones we manifest in ourselves as a way of coping with profound loss. It's comforting to think they're still out there...but in that selfish way we help ourselves just to keep it together, we're also completely overlooking the utter Hell it would be for those who've died, if what we wish is how it really turned out to be."
"And what about a god putting peace into your heart so you can move on?"
"A fake feeling, pushed onto me against my will. If I feel anything less, or differently, than I just explained...that's not me. It would be no different than if Saito had been able to force you to fall out of love with me, and in love with him instead. How genuine would that be?"
"Okay okay, you've made your point... " Yuri sighed and leaned away from where he'd pressed his shoulder to the man's frame, feeling unsettled by the whole thing, "...Can we go watch him skate now?"
Viktor blinked at him, "...Sorry, I got carried away."
"I know you're avoiding forgiving him as long as you possibly can, but downplaying his grief like it's just a show to deceive himself is kind of mean."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"You yourself talked to your own mom's grave after everything settled down..."
"I know, and I'm saying that I get where Saito's coming from because of it. My thing about not wanting to forgive him has nothing to do with his grief though. You know that." Viktor reached for his spouse's free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, just as Yuri started to nudge them over towards the curtain where Asahi was waiting for the music to end, "Yuri..."
"We can finish that talk later." He answered simply, getting too close to the curtain for his partner to offer any kind of retort without giving them away, "You ready?"
Asahi looked back at him and nodded, "I think so. Are you gonna watch from rink-side?"
"Mh."
"...Oh, wow... Thanks." He turned his gaze from Yuri to the frigid silver figure standing behind the man, "...Senpai...are you...okay...?"
"Taihen da." Viktor answered simply, frowning the whole way.
Asahi went pale instantly.
Yuri whipped his head around, "That means everything is terrible. Are you sure you didn't mean genki da?"
"I know what I said."
"Mhhh..." The younger figure grumbled, making a face, only to turn then back to the skater who was about to perform, "Anyway...let's get out there. Captain Grumpypants is upset about something else."
That just made Viktor bristle. Still, as long as Asahi was around, he said nothing and followed through the curtain. He heard a few words passing between Yuri and Coach Nagisa, but didn't pay much attention to what was said...it was hard enough to hear anyway with the roar of the audience overhead. He thought he heard a few words of gratitude, but he wasn't sure.
Would it even be worthwhile to remind Yuri about the fact that he's so eager to please other people, that he ignores how that might hurt me in the process? I've only told him a thousand times already...
Rubber bars were pulled away from blue and silver Revolution blades, handed off to Coach Nagisa as white spotlights shimmied their way across the field of frost before them. The Ice Dancers who'd performed moments before bowed and came towards rink-side, stepping through the door as they departed. Asahi nervously stepped up and shrugged his jacket off, revealing a dark and yet somewhat-revealing costume hidden within it.
His top was completely fishnet, from waist to wrist, revealing every inch of skin through it. Above that was a half-cloak that favored the right side, charcoal grey in color and peppered with a mix of red crystal and smaller fuchsia glitter, giving it an almost sandy-shimmering appearance as it moved. The cloak bore a high, thick collar, which fell loose around the skater's neck like a puffy scarf. On this legs beneath it all, plain black stretch-denim jeans.
He turned on a blade carefully and looked back to the couple who'd followed him, "...I...already told you what this show was supposed to be about, but... I want to dedicate it to you two, if that's okay. As a thank you, for giving me the strength to be able to bring it into the public eye in the first place."
Nagisa and Webber exchanged curious glances, "...Public eye?" They echoed.
Yuri smiled and nodded, "We can't wait to see what you've created."
Asahi bowed his head, though the rest of him followed after, bending at the waist towards the two skaters, "Arigatou gozaimashita." (Polite form; 'thank you.')
[Next to skate in the Exhibition tonight...your Men's Singles Silver medalist...Saito Asahi!]
The athlete raised back up to full standing again, and stepped onto the ice, flying across the white field as the colorless glow morphed to reds and purples all around him. The audience was roaring with their cheers, many screaming out phrases that were unintelligible over the rest of the noise, though Asahi could only assume they were well-wishes.
I wonder how many of the people in this audience right now were part of the group that found me online and donated? I'm going to be posting thank-you notes for days...
"Are you ready?"
Asahi blinked and looked around, the voice having cut through the crowd like a hot knife. It was hard to describe how clear it was in spite of the roar all around him, especially since he couldn't tell what direction it came from.
"Look down, lover."
Grey-brown eyes glanced southward, nervous, and yet...finding a part of himself relaxing to the sight he expected to be there before him. Just as he'd been seeing since the night before...his own reflection, and all its movements, were reshaped into Riku's form. It brought tears to his eyes almost instantly, and Asahi crouched down onto a knee to press his palm against the cold, just as the warped reflection within the ice did the same, as though reaching up at him from underneath the surface, "...I haven't even started and I'm already crying."
"You're strong. You can get through it."
"You don't know how hard this is..."
"It isn't any easier for me." Riku pointed out, "Since the only place I live and breathe anymore is in your head."
"Don't say things like that..."
[Skater Asahi-san changed up his entire routine at the last second,] Morooka commented from the sidelines, cameras focusing on the unmoving figure, [But he did tell us what his starting pose would be, and that's not it. I wonder what he's doing?]
[It looks like he's speaking.] Oda added, [Maybe a small prayer in hopes that this show helps propel him towards being chosen for the Olympic Team?]
[Oh! Maybe! We'll be hearing that result later tonight, ladies and gentlemen...]
"It's time to skate, Asahi." Riku said simply, "I was never near as good as you were, even back then...but we'll skate it together, right?"
"...I'm...scared that this might be the last time I see you." The older figure admitted, fingers curling under his hand into a tense fist.
"There was a book series you once read that mentioned a Memory Palace, wasn't there?" Riku wondered, pushing back up to 'stand' within the ice, "I'll always be there. And don't forget about my phone!"
"...But I'm just making that up in my head, aren't I?"
"Are you?"
"...I don't know..." Asahi answered anxiously, brow furrowed under his stringy bangs. He set a toe-pick down close behind the other blade, and spread his hands slightly to the sides, "...I hope not."