His mother yelled at him for the first time in his life.

He sat at the table, his eyes on her, steady, dark, cold, stoic, Otabek. His father looked at him from the opposite side of the table with the exact same expression. There was no comprehension in his stare, no judgment either. Only acceptance for what his mother refused to accept.

"I will not let you leave this house!", she yelled. Her eyes were wide and shimmered with tears.

"Mother", he said, calm, but she didn't listen.

"I will not let you go back to this terrible Russia ever again", she continued, hysteric. "The last time I let you go there they almost took my boy from me and I will not watch you running into your death, not this time! Don't look at me like that! Don't look at me like all you atrocious Altins do!" Tears ran down her cheeks, fell on the table when she shook her head. "In the end you still follow your stupid ideas", she concluded, her voice becoming low and weak now. "That's this terrible Altin blood in you. You are so much like your father." Named man sat beside her, wordless. Another Altin quality: they were silent as graves. "Go then", she finally said, wiping her eyes with her old, wrinkled fingers. "You will never listen to what your poor mother says after all. You have always been so reticent and shy, but eloquent in all you did. If you think that you need to go back to Russia, then so be it. Just promise that you don't get in trouble, I wouldn't survive it. Please remember your poor mother before making decisions."

"I'll remember", he said.

His father gave him the documents that allowed him access to the bank account. "The money came in for your sake", he explained. "It's not our right to make use of it."

Otabek thanked him, but didn't plan on using any more of the money than absolutely necessary. He had been fine for too long, it was not right to use it. He'd just lend some of it for the time being and when he'd found out where it had come from he'd earn money and pay it all back.

Besides finding out where the money had come from, there were two more tasks on his list: Finding out what had happened back then in Moscow, and finding Yuri. He still didn't remember anything of the last weeks before his coma. But the answers went hand in hand: If there was anyone who knew what had happened it was Yuri. Or the other way round, if he knew what had happened it would most likely give him an idea what had happened to his friend.

So, later that week he sat in the plane to St. Petersburg. A stewardess had handed him a magazine earlier and he flipped through the pages. With a frown he noticed the short article about the recovery of former world cup medalist and Kazakh hero Otabek Altin. The picture showed him back in the day after he had won bronze in his senior debut and underneath was a text with excerpts of the interview he had given a short time ago.

Refreshing old ties

(ow). The tragic case of Otabek Altin (23), known as the Hero of Kazakhstan for his earnings in international figure skating competitions, shocked the whole world when three years ago the young athlete had been attacked off-season in Moscow and sent into a coma. The incident of extraordinary brutality not only ended his flourishing career on the ice, but almost his life as well.

Now there's finally good news: The former bronze medalist not only woke from coma but also recovered well, ready to give an interview in his home town Almaty. "I am glad that I can speak to you today", the now 23-years-old Altin says. "The rehabilitation was hard work, but it brought me back to my old form." When asked what his plans for the near future are, he answers: "First of all I have to refresh old ties again and care about some unfinished business. If I can come back to the world of figure skating? I can not say fore sure, but maybe the future holds that for me as well." First of all he needs to get back in touch with some old friends, colleagues and acquaintances, he says. We wish him good luck for the future.

Otabek closed the magazine and stared out of the tiny window. There was nothing to be seen than gray. Spring was rainy and cold this year; he didn't even remember if spring had ever been anything other than gray. It suited his mood though. He didn't know what to expect in St. Petersburg. He had never been there before. He didn't know if there was anything to be found there that would help him figuring out where Yuri had disappeared to. He only knew that it was his only chance.

He had called Mila. The girl had screamed excitedly into her phone for a minute, then without hesitation invited him to St. Petersburg. "I had such a hard crush on you back in the day, but don't worry, I grew out of it!", she had explained just as cheerful as she used to be. "Actually I'm with Sala now, Crispino, you remember her? Don't tell anyone though!" She had chuckled. When he had said that he'd wondered what had happened to Yuri her voice had become serious though. "Yuri, huh? I wonder what he's doing nowadays. I haven't heard of him since then… It's actually a really long story." She had offered him to tell him everything she remembered and he gladly agreed to come over. It was one first step.

Khaligaz had smiled, when he had explained his plan to her. Zarina had played with his messy hair while he held her on his arm. "Let me give you one advice, my sweet beloved Erasyl,", the young mother had said softly, "follow your heart; but take your brain with you." He loved her like a sister, so he nodded and placed a kiss on Zarina's nose who chuckled high as a chime.

He arrived in St. Petersburg in the early afternoon. It was cold like in winter, but the already setting sun gave the City of Tsars a clear, beautiful look, like from a fairytale. Otabek wrote Mila when he had checked in in the small but clean hotel she had recommended. He had declined her offer to stay in her apartment, he didn't know how long he would stay and he hated the idea of invading her private space. He was an Altin after all, with all the advantages but with all the disadvantages as well. He still had a hard time getting close to people. So he had thought that he'd rather stay in a hotel that was not too expensive but gave him room to think as well.

The amount of money on the bank account was a little more than eight and a half million tenge, even after he had bought the ticket for the plane and booked and paid the hotel for a week. It had shocked him when he had taken the first look at the bank book what showed such an enormous amount. The lady that had lined up behind him at the ATM had sighed annoyed and it had brought him back to reality. With a murmured apology he had made way and left the bank, feeling dizzy.

Otabek didn't even make the effort to unpack his luggage. He had been sitting on the bed motionless for what felt like half an hour, his hands on his knees, his face expressionless, his eyes on the windowpane more than on the darkening sky beyond it., when it knocked on the door.

Mila still had the red curly bob that suited her so well. "It's good to see you", she said, hugging him tightly and the sudden closeness upset him, but he didn't let it show but hugged her back awkwardly instead. When she let go of him again she smiled. "You grew! I have to look up now!" She chuckled and let him lead her inside.

"I came here often when I had to sneak out to meet Sala", she said walking around in the room. She let her fingertips run along the edge of the small desk. "Well, not that exact room, but they all look the same here. I'm glad I can take her to my apartment instead now, although this hotel brings back some wild memories." With a bright smile she turned to look at Otabek who still stood by the door. "At least I can say for sure that the mattresses are super comfy here." Tilting her head she looked at him and her expression became serious. Heading over to the bed she sat down and patted the blanket next to her. He took the invitation and sat down although it made him feel uncomfortable.

"You're still as stiff as ever", she murmured, then slipped out of her burgundy high heels and folded her legs, repositioning to face him. "But it's different now. Your presence. You feel grown up. And stronger. Not the insecure boy from back then who hid behind his frown." Tilting her head she scrutinized his face. He could feel her gaze following the scars, one after the other. "Look what they did to you", she murmured. "You had such a handsome face. But you know what, they didn't ruin it. You're still as handsome. In a different way. In a whole different way. They couldn't break you. And now you have these scars and they are a greater achievement than any medal you could ever win." He looked at her and she looked back at him with a tiny smile. "You survived, Otabek. I'm so glad."

Falling night bathed the room in blues and blacks as silence spread between them. It wasn't dark enough to switch on the lamp, but they had mere minutes before it would become awkward not to. In the twilight Mila said:

"We all missed you. Really, we all did. But I'm sure you can guess who suffered the most."

Of course he could.

"You were his first friend. His only friend, although I had always tried to be there for him. I was too young back then though. I couldn't handle his pain, his grief, his despair. It would have hurt myself. We were all so helpless. When he went back to his grandfather's place, we were relieved to be honest. He hadn't come back to the rink by then, had hidden in his room. Lilia said that he didn't talk to her, not even through the locked door. She heard him cry day and night. On some days he'd eat half of the food she placed in front of his door, on some days he didn't touch it. And then, one day, he was gone. We all panicked, tried to find out where he had gone, but his phone was unavailable and no one seemed to have seen him. Just when Yakov had decided to go to the police he showed up at his grandfather's place. He released a last statement on his VK and instagram the same day and then he was gone." She sighed. "I tried to call him. Tried to text him, again and again. He was my baby brother after all, my precious little tiger. But after two months or something I realized that he hadn't just disappeared. He had left everything behind on purpose. Not for the attention. He's not like Viktor. I think he just wanted to forget. His old life, us, his pain. And I accepted it. I think I… I think I understand him. So I let him be." She smiled at him. "He didn't do it to hurt anyone", she explained and it all made sense to Otabek. "He did it so it'd stop hurting."

It made sense to Otabek. But the pain in his heart was unbearable nevertheless.

He escorted Mila to her car.

"If I can do something for you, let me know", she offered and hugged him after his affirmative nod. "You'll find your place, Otabek. You're strong, even without Yuri."

"Thank you", he murmured. He watched the taillight of her car fade in with St. Petersburg's traffic.

His jaws hurt from all the clenching. He was nothing without Yuri.

о

His clothes were black and white. All of them. Black pants, black socks, black boxers, back sweaters, white button-down shirts, white undershirts, white t-shirts and some black ones. Black boots, a black suit coat, a black belt. Black scarf, black leather jacket. Even his wristwatch was black. The inside of his suitcase looked like he had come to St. Petersburg for a funeral, or many. But it was all he needed.

He couldn't stand colors anymore. When he had been shopping with Khaligaz she had brought him colors at first, but he had refused to try them. It just didn't feel appropriate to dress in bright green and red and blue. He needed things in order. His wardrobe, his suitcase, his life.

He started to limit things. The colors of his clothes. The things he drank (water and black tea and black coffee). The things he ate (everything he needed to keep his body as healthy as possible, but no treats, no snacks, no fuss). He started smoking to keep himself busy, to distract himself from how little progress he achieved, but stopped again after only two days because it brought him even more on the edge.

Besides the things Mila had told him there was not much information provided by anyone. He learned from Lilia that Yuri had taken his cat with him, but she didn't know anything else. Yakov had been urged to give a lot of statements to the press repesentatives who wondered where the young prodigy had disappeared to and why. He was just as clueless as anyone else. He went to see Georgi who almost started crying when Otabek asked him about Yuri, but who couldn't help him. He followed the invitation of Yuuri and Viktor who he spent an evening with in the warmth and light of their life full of love and it reminded him of his own loneliness.

They all offered him their help. But pitiful smiles and clueless sighs and warm embraces didn't help him at all, as much as it hurt to realize.

He left St. Petersburg on the fifth day.

Hello again and thanks everyone for coming back to MiM! I'm really happy about all the support you guys gave me, be it follows or comments or wordless favs, I appreaciate it a lot!
Just so you know, I made some minor mistakes that I have corrected already, namely: the story takes place in 2021, not 2020 as I said before. Also I changed the Plisetsky house to be an apartment, because I like the idea of Nikolai in a tiny, charming house, but it doesn't suit the mood of this story like an old apartment does, so I changed that as well (you'll see in the next chapter).

Btw, if you head over to AO3 you can see my poor editing skills that I reactivated for the magazine Otabek reads ^^ I publish there under the same name, so please give it a look if you like.

Please review and let me know your opinion on this chapter!