A/N: Thanks for the review. Btw, this story was supposed to be cute and sweet with hint of humor. And I do not know how it ended like this - this chapter was kind of serius/dramatic/whatever? I just went with whatever came to my mind. This is unbetaed and since I am typing it on the phone, please forgive my mistakes. The update for my another YOI fic would be a bit late. You can check it out if you like angsty fic. Lastly, please review, it will greatly help me.
.
.
Chapter 1
Yuurella
.
.
.
"Piggy!"
The loud scream could be heard from the onsen establishment, rattling the glass windows and paper doors of many rooms of the built-in-house inside an onsen establishment. The supposed onsen was lacking in customers as it was not a season yet. The exterior was beautiful and the natural onsen was what made the place such an attraction to the customers, especially tourists who had came from the different places.
"Piggy! Where the hell are you?!"
Running among the hallways was one boy around 17 years old with the darkest hair rivalling the darkness of midnight and huge, wide eyes as dark as the endless abyss that was obsecured by a pair of old glasses that hiding the beauty behind it. Running to the end of the hallway, the teenager tried to halt from his running only to crash on the paper door and hit the person standing behind it.
"Oof!" The glasses boy fell on top of the occupant of the room, making his glasses fall on the floor.
"Oww... what the hell?! That hurts!" the blond haired teenager that seemed younger by a few years than the black haired boy complained. His eyes opened in anger as he shove the older boy from him, "Get off me, you stupid pig!"
Scrambling to his feet, the older boy automatically bowed in apologetic manner, "I am so sorry, Yurio!", before he helped the other teenager to his feet. But, his effort was slapped off and was kicked to the corner when the blond haired boy stood up.
"Do not touch me! I do not want your fat ass hands on me!"
Well, that hurt but Yuuri had been used to it since they had been living together when his father remarried a beautiful widow with a daughter and a son. He was used to the harsh treatment from his step sibling. Lilia, his stepmother never treated him like a son especially after his father died. Meanwhile, his step sister, Mila, though she was never harsh with him but she also never looked after him. And finally his step brother, Yuri, had always hated him from the start.
"Um... I am so sorry, Yurio," Yuuri looked down and scrathed the back of his head ackwardly, "why did you call me?"
The blond Russian huffed and flipped his hair, his hands going down to clasp on his slim waist. "I need you to comb my hair and ready my clothes for today." He said and sat down on his chair, waiting impatiently.
Yuuri smiled and hurriedly done his task.
After finished helping Yurio, he was called by his stepsister to help sew her dresses before he was called by his stepmother to clean the whole house, as per his normal daily chores. But the boy never lose his smile as he sang his mother's song that his memory served him when he was a baby though it was impossible since his mother died when he was one year old.
.
.
Meanwhile, somewhere at the Hasetsu Castle...
A lone man, in his twenty two years, was sitting alone near the ice rink, holding his skates in his hands. He was tall with lean but muscular body, face sculped to perfection; with light platinum colored tresses that was cut short, with its bang hiding his left eye, icy blue orbs that resembled the color of sea, straight nose, high aristocratic cheekbones and thinned pink lips.
In one word to describe the man was...
Perfection.
The platinum haired man carefully traced the blades, being careful not to cut his finger on the sharp blade. He smiled and put on the skater shoes, handling them as if they were the most prized possesion he had. Gingerly, he put one leg and another leg on the ice, testing the moves around the ice rink.
He stopped at the center and slowly, took a deep breath.
Remembering the program he had choreographed the day before, slowly, he moved his legs and body to the imagination music in his mind since he forgot to bring his radio with him. His moves were slow but sure and full with grace. He was about to do the jump when someone pushed open the door to his safe haven with a bang.
"Prince Victor!"
At the same time, the prince was so surprised that he failed his step and fell down hard on the ice, "Bam!" He groaned in pain and held his left arm; where it had cushioned his fall during his fail jump. "Ow... damn it, it hurts!"
The old man named Yakov immediately scolded him, "No cursing, Your Highness!"
"It was your fault, Yakov," Prince Victor slowly stood with grace and glared at the older man. "If you had not interrupted me, I would not fall."
"Sure my fault, Your Highness," he scoffed and huffed indignantly. Uncare, if he made the Prince angry. "But if you had not forgotten to attend to your duty, this would not happen."
The Prince looked at the older man with sharp blue eyes before he finally closed his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. Opening his icy blue orbs, all the sharpness and cold calculated look was gone just like that. He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. "I did not forget about it," he was making excuse but he knew that Yakov knew about it too.
"Yeah, right. As if I could believe Your Highness' words." Yakov countered back. "Your Highness is a forgetful person, might I remind you."
Prince Victor just chuckled and glided across the ice to where the old man was. "So, what is this duty about, my beloved attendant?"
"I knew it, he forgets about it again," Yakov muttered to himself, "It is about your upcoming 23rd birthday, my Prince." He saw the younger male was about to open his mouth and quickly added. "And no, we already discussed about it. During the ball, Your Highness must choose the candidate to be your future bride."
The icy blue eyed Prince knew that it was useless to talk about stopping the impending marriage and choosing a bride. So, he just resigned himself but not without giving his one and only condition to partake in the birthday ball. If if had come to this, then, he would choose the candidate for the bride using the only method he approved with.
Grinning slyly, he eyed the short older man who looked at him curiously.
"What? Do not tell me that Your Highness are thinking about something outrageous again?" Yakov sweatdropped. He did not like where this was going.
The Prince's grin only becoming wider and slowly he put his finger on his lips, voice deceivingly sweet, "It is only one condition, my beloved attendant. And that is..."
