"Victor..."
"Yes, Violet?"
"You didn't sleep at all, did you?"
"Nyet. You?"
"Nope," I stared up at our ceiling like a total zombie. I had no idea what was keeping me up. It's not like I was nervous. Yurio's performance was amazing last night. He's going places and I couldn't be prouder. Yet for some ungodly reason, sleep eluded me.
"Do you want me to wake the boys?" Victor offered, "Even Yurio? I learned to wear oven mitts when I wake him up, in case he does bite me."
"No," I cuddled into him, "I appreciate it, but I can do it. Besides, I can just sleep on the plane. You did book our flight, didn't you? You didn't forget to do it?"
"Of course I booked our flight," he assured, "Don't worry, Vi. Everything is taken care of."
"Thank you," I pulled myself out of bed, "Pray for me."
"You have my prayers," I got a quick kiss from my husband and started toward the other bedrooms. Yurio never was one for mornings and with his sleep being just as sketchy as mine, he's only going to be that much worse.
Nevertheless, I had to soldier on. If it meant leaving for our next competition, I'm sure Yurio won't be too cranky. A little bitter, but that was just a part of his personality makeup at this point. And a little scrappy, but honestly, I think he gets that from me. Back when I was living in New York, it wasn't exactly uncommon for me to get into barfights. Then again, I was also coming off a burlesque show and those assholes were getting handsy.
"Yuri," I spoke softly, "It's time to wake up, sweetheart. We have a flight for Tokyo to board. And Victor has records there that you're going to shatter, right?"
"Into oblivion," Yurio mumbled into my side.
"That's my little dovahkiin," I smiled, "Good morning, baby."
"Good morning," he rubbed his eyes.
"You can sleep on the plane," I promised, "I know. I'm still tired, too. But sleeping on the plane is no different than sleeping in the car. You know that."
"I know," Yurio cuddled into me, "Will you carry me?"
"Always," I kissed his little cheek, "But for now, I have to go wake your brother."
"Why can't Victor do that?"
"Because he's busy loading the car," I put my baby on his feet, "Get your shoes on and get your jacket. I'll be out in a minute."
"Ok," Yurio shuffled around his room, looking for his jacket, while I got up and went across the hall to Yuri's room. Usually, Yuri was the easy one to get up, but this morning would prove to be a different monster. I found him balled up in his blankets like a hamster.
"Yuri," I nudged him. Nothing, "Yuri, wake up."
Still nothing. Fortunately, I knew the one person (with the most impeccable timing) that could successfully get Yuri up, "Still sleeping?"
"Yeah," I bounced our son in my arms, "He's out cold."
"Yuri," Victor took him from me, "It's time to wake up. We're leaving for Japan in an hour and you have a competition to win."
"Hey," I shot him a glare, "How do you know we're not going to win?"
"I don't," he kissed my cheek, "But how do you know we're not going to win?"
"Wake up, Yuri," I brushed him off, "I need to prove your father wrong and we can't do that without you."
"Ok, Mama," Yuri spoke barely above a whisper, feeling around his bed for his glasses, "But we're still going to win, right, Daddy?"
"We can try," Victor cuddled one of our babies while the other was probably out like a light in the car already.
And I couldn't blame him. I was either going to be fueled by caffeine or borderline dead the whole trip. Victor and I got the boys and Makkachin in the car and our luggage and headed for the airport. But we had one more stop to make before we get on our flight.
"Mama," Yurio asked, "Why is Makkachin coming with us?"
"Because," I explained, "Auntie Nat's going to keep an eye on him while we're gone."
"We can't just leave him in the house?"
"Think of it this way," I put it into perspective, "What would you do if Victor and I left you in the house by yourself for the next couple weeks?"
"I don't know," he shrugged, "Duct tape Yuri to a chair again and throw Goldfish at him."
"No," I shook my head, "Yuri's not there either. It's just you."
"I'd find a way to take care of myself."
"Makkachin doesn't have thumbs," I pointed out, "So, he has to have someone take care of him."
"And he'll get into my steamed buns," Victor scolded the puppy in the backseat, "Wouldn't you, Makkachin? You can't be trusted."
Makkachin curled up in Yuri's lap, laying his head in shame. Victor couldn't be mad at that face for long. And Makkachin knew we weren't going to be home for a while. No more Victor belly rubs. No more me occasionally slipping him bacon while I'm cooking. No more Yuri grabbing at his tail. No more looks of indifference from Yurio. For the time being anyway.
Knock, knock.
"What?" a half dead groan came from the other side of the door.
"Thanks for watching Makkachin, Natalia," Victor beamed.
"What am I doing?" Natalia fell over leaning on the doorframe.
"Are you ok, Nat?" I worried.
"I worked three clubs last night," she grumbled, "I'm fighting a hangover and I have to work a private party tonight. I want to go back to bed."
"Alright," I gave her Makkachin's leash, "Sorry to be dumping all of this on you, sweetie."
"It's really no problem," Natalia brushed me off, "Good luck in Tokyo."
"Thank you," I gave her a quick hug and we headed off to the airport.
To no surprise, when we were boarded, the four of us were ushered to first class. I loved Victor to death, but he is the most extra human being I've ever met in my life. Occasionally, I happened to benefit from his being extra, but most of the time, I'm sure we could live without it. Not that I'm complaining about first class.
At this point, I could care less where we were. I had my one flute of champagne. I had a pillow. I had Victor placed strategically around my body. I wasn't waking up until we hit Japanese airspace. That meant twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. Worth it. Entirely worth it. Now, I understood why actual diva Victor Nikiforov flew nothing less than first class.
As soon as we got to the airport, I got hit with a flashback. Tokyo at night was such a sight to behold. I loved this town. Out of everywhere I've been through my world travels I called my skating career, Tokyo was definitely in my top five favorites. If it didn't hold such a dark memory for me, it'd be in the top three, but we can't control that.
"You ok, Vi?" Victor asked while we stood at luggage claim.
"Fine," I assured, "I'm kind of hungry."
"Tell you what," he suggested, "Let's go get hot pot. It's been too long."
"Mmm," I hummed, "Hot pot..."
"Boys?" Victor looked for their approval, "Hot pot?"
"Ok," Yuri nodded.
"Fine," Yurio shrugged, coming off more indifferent than usual. He got plenty of sleep on the plane, too. I'm not sure how long, but I know he did some napping. Hopefully not too much. He still needed to sleep tonight. There might have been a six-hour difference between St. Petersburg and Tokyo, but that was the sacrifice we had to make. Jetlag would be a frequent staple for the next couple of months.
I forgot what a good hot pot tasted like. Especially at this particular restaurant. This was where Victor, Chris, and I would come after a competition. There's why I loved being in Tokyo so much. Japanese food was a gift from above and no one could convince me otherwise. It's like being at Epcot only on a much grander scale. All of our food would be laid out in front of us and there would be no holding me back. I felt like I hadn't eaten anything all day, but that was about to come to an end.
"Do you remember the last time we were here, Violet?" Victor gave me a little kick under the table. I had just gotten out of the hospital and Victor and Chris were trying to make me feel better. The doctor told me I shouldn't have any alcohol for a while, but that wasn't going to stop us, "We had so much..."
"Apple juice!" I cut him off. My scatterbrained husband forgot we had small children with us, "Lots and lots of apple juice..."
Victor had gotten us a bottle of sake, but little did we know how strong it was. It didn't take us much to be really drunk. Especially me. I had hardly anything in my stomach to absorb the alcohol. But damn, I was drunk. If being fresh off the feeding tubes didn't make me feel like I was dying, the morning after would.
"I like apple juice," Yurio chimed in.
"Different kind of apple juice."
"VICTOR!" an unnecessarily loud voice shouted at us, "YOU'RE FINALLY COMING BACK!"
"Hi, JJ," Victor greeted him with a cordial smile on his face while I could see the vein stick out of Yurio's forehead. I feel your pain, baby. Out of everyone in the senior division, there was no one I could stand any less than Jean-Jacques Leroy. JJ was the biggest narcissist I've ever had the displeasure of meeting in my life. I remember meeting him when I was still working the burlesque scene. He came in after Worlds one year and he didn't understand the no touching rule. Not to mention, he'd always ask for a private dance. Of course, this was all before he met his fiancée. I couldn't exactly hate him, though. If it weren't for him, I never would've met Victor and Chris in the first place. Silver linings.
"So?" JJ sat at our table, completely uninvited of course, "Are you coming back?"
"Not right now," Victor shrugged him off.
"Why?" he scoffed, "Too scared?"
"I'm coaching my son this season through Juniors," Victor shut him up, "He's really good. We're very proud."
"Think you could still beat me after all these years of you being off the ice?" JJ never knew when to stop running his mouth.
"I'm sure I could try." Amazing how level headed Victor is through this. JJ keeps stabbing at his pride and doubting his skill, yet it doesn't seem to be getting to him. Quite admirable.
"Do you mind?" I just wish I had that kind of passive temperament and self-control.
"Who are you again?" JJ gave me a look.
"JJ," I rolled my eyes, "We've met. Several times."
"You remember my wife Violet," Victor reintroduced me. I'm insulted, but not shocked. If it doesn't involve JJ directly, it's in one ear and out the other.
"Hold on," JJ looked me over, "Were you at the pool at last year's Grand Prix Finals banquet?"
"No," I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to punch him, "I've won gold twice!"
"Sorry," he ignored me, "Not ringing any bells."
Fortunately, our food came and Victor got him out of my hair. Someone needed to drive their fist into his teeth and shatter each and every one of them. Or maybe just a good, solid kick to his kneecap. Enough to put him out for the season. Maybe with a hot meal in my stomach, I'll settle down and not have this bloodlust anymore.
"What's this, Mama?" Yuri's eyes lit up as his food was put in front of him.
"It's katsudon," I told him, "Trust me. It's delightful."
Yuri put his chopsticks in his mouth and fell to pieces. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he had just fallen in love, "This is the greatest thing I've ever eaten in my life."
I couldn't blame him. Katsudon had that effect on many a victim. Myself included. And with my nails digging into the palm of my hand because of a certain Canadian asshole, I started stuffing my face. Eating my feelings seemed to work. But I'm not surprised that my husband, who knows me better than anyone I've ever met in my life, picked up on how pissed off I was.
"Vi?" Victor knew better than to come between me and my food right now, "Are you sure you're ok?"
"Have I ever mentioned," I murmured through a mouthful of fried pork, "my general disdain for JJ?"
"Once or twice," he backed off a little, "Can I make a suggestion?"
"I will stab you with a fork, Victor," I growled.
"No, no," Victor allowed, "Please keep eating. I insist. I think I know somewhere we can go after this to cheer you up. Somewhere JJ wouldn't dare go."
"Good," I snapped, "Why is he even here?"
"Because the senior division's here, too."
"I don't like JJ, Mama," Yurio shared my sentiment.
"And that's ok," I promised, "So, where are we going?"
"You'll see," Victor smiled, "You'll see."
And I continued to stuff my face full of katsudon until I didn't want to move. The more I could get, the better. After five bowls of rice, though, my fat, happy ass was going to need a forklift to get out of the booth. Carbs might have destroyed my body, but they made everything better. They were the hug my arteries needed.
When we left the restaurant, Victor took my hand and the four of us went somewhere that was dimly lit inside, but brightly lit outside. It's been years since I've been to a Japanese arcade. And of course, Yurio's face lit up more than the signs outside. I remember when Victor, Chris, and I were here last. It was after dinner just like it was now. And just like last time, I was going to pull up a chair in front of the Pac-Man machine and make myself comfortable. There were a few machines I had a high score on in this place and from what I've heard, they've stood the test of time. Pac-Man, Galaga, Dig Dug…Oh, memories. But there was one I had to show my littlest one.
"Hey, Yurio," I found him on a Space Invaders machine, "Come here."
"I'm on a streak, Mama," he didn't even look up, "What do you want?"
"When you die," I told him, "I want to show you something."
"Don't jinx me," Yurio kept his eyes glued to the screen as his last life disappeared, "Mama!"
"I didn't jinx you," I promised, taking his hand, "Here. I know what'll make you feel better."
"What?" he pouted as I brought him over to a bright, flashing game. And it got his eyes to sparkle, "What's this?"
"Do you remember our first dance lesson?" I put the money in the machine, "And you asked me what Dance Dance Revolution was?"
"Yeah."
"This is Dance Dance Revolution," I jumped up.
"Why am I not surprised you found this machine again?" Victor and Yuri joined us.
"You know how much I love this damn game," I gushed, scrolling through the song choices, "Victor, care to join me?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Victor jumped up on the stage, ready to take me on. He should know better, though. Victor may have some of the most amazing step sequences, but when it came to my Dance Dance Revolution, he had nothing on me.
And even the great Victor Nikiforov has his flaws. While it's always fun to play with Victor, he sucked something awful at this. He was like a drunk, newborn giraffe getting tased. Granted, it's cute, but to everyone else, Victor really does look like he's drunk. Maybe he's like a savant and he can only play this when he's drunk.
"Five years later," I giggled, jumping down, "And you still suck at this."
"Can't say I didn't try," Victor kissed my cheek, "You haven't lost your touch."
"I want to try," Yurio jumped up on the stage, "Play me, Mama."
"Are you sure?" I worried.
"Positive."
"Alright," I put more money in the machine and let Yurio pick the song. I wasn't going to let him know the meme behind Sandstorm, but I wasn't going to stop him. When I played this, it was my favorite song to do. One by one, the little arrows crawled up the screen. And Yurio was keeping up pretty well. Maybe all those lessons have paid off. Damn, Yurio was a natural! He might not have been biologically mine, but he was definitely my son.
"What's high score mean, Mama?" Yurio wondered as we finished the song.
"It means you beat the previous high score," I stared at the screen in pure awe, "You have the record."
"I wonder who VIP was," he thought, punching in his initials.
"You set out to beat Victor's records, kid," I bit my tongue, "VIP stands for Violet Isabella Plisetsky. That was my record for the past five years, Yurio."
With those few words, Yurio wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my hip, "I'm so sorry, Mama. I didn't mean to."
"I'm glad it was you, baby," I squeezed him tight, "I'm glad you broke my record. Now, you have one here already and you haven't even stepped foot on the ice yet."
"Come on, boys," Victor took Yuri's hand, "You have a big day tomorrow. We should rest up."
"That's a fantastic idea," I agreed, taking Yurio's hand, "We can come back some other time."
And the four of us left the arcade to crash at the hotel. I just wanted to go to sleep. We did have a big day, but after playing Dance Dance Revolution for half an hour straight, it starts to take a toll. And certain injuries come back to bite me in the ass. My poor hips…My legs…My ankles…Everything from the waist down. Sleep. Sleep sounds like a good idea.
A/N: In all seriousness, I'm amazing at some DDR. And playing Darude Sandstorm was my favorite. That and a weird J-Pop tune on DDR Max 2 that I fell in love with. And Dance Dance Revolution was my introduction to techno. Fun fact. And I'm so proud of Yurio already making records in Japan. Even though it took his Mama's record away from her. And maybe just as important, YURI HAD HIS FIRST TASTE OF KATSUDON! He's fallen in love with his beloved pork cutlet bowls! I can't be a self respecting Yuri!On Ice writer and NOT have Yuri in love with katsudon. I've already had Yurio's pirozhkis. I needed me some pork cutlet bowls, too. How else is Yuri supposed to enthrall the hearts of men? Also, if you couldn't tell, I want JJ punched in the nuts. Now, next week isn't going to be an easy chapter. It's kind of like a part two to this one. I just thought that since it was getting late and the chapter was long enough, I'd break it off here. But you'll see. You'll see about it soon. See you next chapter! xx