Chapter 8: The house god
"What's your weight today, Yuuri?" Viktor asked, looking up from the laptop he had put up on the table at which they ate every night in the onsen restaurant. The ice-blue eye that was not veiled by thick silver-blonde bangs scrutinised Yuuri. Even in the green yukata he wore most evenings, he looked like a celestial being.
Around them guests were dining, regulars from town mostly. During the first week, they had taken a keen interest in the fair-haired stranger, which had flared up again after the ninja castle incident.
"This is the figure skating legend Viktor Nikiforov," Yuuri's mother had told every guest, bursting with pride. "Our son has been adoring him since he was a little boy, and now he is here to teach our Yuuri."
The townsfolk had loved that, creating all kinds of legends. Many had heard about the video and interpreted it as an application for tutorship, as a love letter, or as both, depending on which version they favoured and which rumours they had caught on the internet. Yuuri could not blame them for his deliberate choice of programme.
Eventually, the locals frequenting the onsen returned to minding their own business. That night, some had their eyes fixed on a soap opera on the TV screen. A man Yuuri's father played soccer with was dining with his family near the bar. Mari was walking around, serving sake and tea.
Meeting Viktor's gaze, Yuuri swallowed. "No change since last week."
"Hum," Viktor said. "That's strange. Given all the exercise you've been doing, you should have lost another kilo, at least."
"Actually," Yuuri could not help the heat on his face as he continued, "this morning it was three hundred grams more than last week. But… I attributed this to natural fluctuations."
The blue eye narrowed. "Have you been eating katsudon clandestinely, Yuuri?"
Terror crept into Yuuri. Not because of the insinuation, but because Viktor had noticed the problem, too.
"No," Yuuri said. "I have not eaten katsudon."
"Something else, then? Sweets? Too many pieces of that cake your mother made last week?"
"No!" Yuuri waved his hands in exasperation. "I have not changed my diet! I swear it! And that one piece of cake should not cause my weight to stagnate!"
During the first two weeks, he had dropped four kilos. One week later, the pointer at his parents' scales had not moved down one dash. Yuuri had increased the frequency of his evening runs from every second day to daily. Sometimes, he took Makkachin with him. He had hoped to see another kilo vanish by the end of the fourth week from all the extra exercise, but obviously, his body had let him down.
He stared at the miso soup that was his dinner most of these days. "I do not understand why this does not work," he said. "I am starving most of the time because I eat so little. I should still be losing weight."
Viktor put down his bowl, katsudon again—how could he eat so much of that dish and still look so gorgeous?―and put a finger to his chin. "Don't worry, Yuuri," he said, winking. "Pure-hearted as you are, I believe you."
Is he flirting or is he serious? With Viktor, Yuuri could never tell. Why couldn't he just be normal? "Um, thank you," Yuuri said quietly.
"What else do you eat except breakfast and dinner?"
"A light lunch before I go to Minako's. Fruits, or rice with vegetables." After his morning exercise, he would drop dead at the barre if he did not eat before ballet. If the hunger overwhelmed him well before the next meal, he quelled it with tea. "Should I cut that out?"
"No. You probably eat too little. We need to readjust your diet so you won't ruin your metabolism."
"I do not understand," Yuuri said.
"If you exercise too much and eat too little—it's the relation between nutrition and energy expenditure that counts―then your metabolism switches to survival mode. You stop losing weight although you still eat little. In the worst case, you start gaining weight again. As you shouldn't curb the amount of exercise because you need to get back in shape, we need to increase your nutrition."
Yuuri stared at him as if he was speaking in tongues. "Are you saying, I must eat more?"
"Yes." Viktor smiled one of his dazzling smiles. "Your determination is admirable, but you're making a common mistake we need to address. Give me one day to think of a new diet plan."
"Keep your back straight," Minako-sensei's voice echoed through her studio. "Where's your poise? That's beginner level!"
"Sorry, Minako-sensei," Yuuri muttered and corrected his posture.
His ballet instructor pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "Repeat."
"Yes, Minako-sensei," Yuuri replied and went through the exercise again. Plié, relevé, sauté, retiré, arabesque, penché.
"Better." She frowned. "Is your back hurting? I told you that doing chores is bad for your back."
Confused, Yuuri blinked and pushed his glasses back up his nose. "No."
"Hum." She frowned. "Is something bothering you? Your performance always suffers when something is on your mind."
Hot humiliation shot through Yuuri. Minako had known him since he was five, which put her instincts on a level on which she could compete with his mother.
"My weight is increasing again despite all the exercise I've been doing lately," he said. "Last week, I didn't lose one gram although I doubled down on exercise. But Viktor won't let me skate until I've got back my weight from last December."
Minako's thin, accentuated face softened. "I rarely know a person who works as hard for their goals as you, Yuuri. But the body is not a machine. Be gentle with yourself."
But what if Viktor is right and my weight will go up further? Yuuri almost blurted out. What if I've already ruined my metabolism?
"Last night, Viktor said that he wants to devise a nutrition plan for me," he said. "He wants me to eat more because he thinks I eat too little. But I can't imagine this will work."
The crease on Minako's brow deepened. "That sounds reasonable. It's never good for an athlete to eat too little. Some neglect their nutrition to keep their weight in check. It's not healthy and it increases your injury risk."
Yuuri's heart leapt. "I'm glad you think this is the right way, too."
She smiled and for one moment, her expression was less stern. "Speaking of your coach: How are you two getting along?"
Yuuri shrugged. "Okay, I think. He's less intimidating than Celestino, but talking to him is… weird." That was a vast understatement. He had never met a person with such straightforwardness. Viktor was a force of nature. And just like that he had turned Yuuri's life upside down. But if he voiced his concerns to Minako, she would have some things to say about that.
"Hm." Minako raised an eyebrow. "I didn't get this impression the few times we talked." Her eyes glazed over as they did so often when she was raving about her favourite figure skaters. "From what I could see, he's a very handsome and good-mannered young man." As if to emphasise her words, she spun and stopped in an arabesque.
You don't need to tell me, Yuuri thought.
"It's…," he trailed off, struggling for words while the heat on his cheeks flared up with the power of the sun, "it's as if a god has graced us with his presence and turned our old banquet room into his shrine."
A knowing glint lit up in her eyes. "And you're too busy worshipping him to get to know him."
The heat increased if that was even possible, devouring Yuuri from the inside. Viktor's unexpected arrival had thwarted his attempt to draw a line under this chapter of his life and sparked Yuuri's hopes for a comeback.
"I… it's complicated. I mean, how could I, a being of no significance, ever be worthy of him?"
"Nonsense! He came here because he was drawn to you when he saw you skating his routine, Yuuri."
"This video was filmed and put online without my permission," Yuuri pointed out.
She snorted quietly. "The message was yours―intended or not. Because you didn't practise his programme over and over for no reason."
Yuuri winced. After the Grand Prix Final, he had hated himself for rejecting Viktor's offer to take that commemorative photo together because the humiliation of making last place had been unbearable. Coming to terms with the fact that he, the loser of Sochi, would never be worthy of his idol and that he had wasted his last chance to talk to him, he had skated Viktor's free programme to bid his greatest dream farewell—a cry into the void for that which would never be. He had never intended for it to be viewed by anyone other than his closest friend, much less by the person that he had gone through all the effort for in the first place.
"I just never thought he would see it," he said.
"If you had known he would see it and come here, would you still have skated it?"
Yuuri considered the question. He probably would have been terrified throughout the whole process, would have been afraid people would think he was showing off out of an urge to compensate for Sochi―but if he had seen an infinitesimal chance of having his dream fulfilled?
He met Minako's gaze and nodded.
Somehow that made the fact that Viktor was here even more precious.
An afternoon shower was coming down when Yuuri returned home. As he had gone to Minako's without his parka, he entered the restaurant soaked, his clothes plastered to his body, but refreshed. Ballet classes were more arduous than he remembered. Either it was the additional weight or he had grown unaccustomed to the Kyushu climate.
"I'll wipe up the puddles as soon as I've changed into dry clothes," he told his father, who was sitting behind the bar.
"Don't trouble yourself, Yuuri," his father replied merrily. "If I've overheard the conversation in the kitchen correctly, you will be busy this afternoon with a different task."
"What?" Yuuri asked in confusion. A shiver ran through him as he grew cold. "Did the kitchen staff fall sick and Mom needs help with cooking?" It had been a while since he had cooked last; refreshing the skill was never a waste of time. Being exposed to the overwhelming smells of food for an extended time would help cushion his constant appetite as a side effect.
"Your mother has more help than she needs." His father winked. "Best go and see for yourself."
Confused, Yuuri headed to the kitchen, trying to ignore the cold and wet fabric that was his boxers clinging to his crotch. He had barely entered the corridor when agitated voices and the clattering of pots and dishes echoed towards him. At the stairs, he ran into his sister.
"Good, you are here," she said. "Mom's exasperated."
"Why?"
Mari pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and lit one. "Your friend is driving her nuts."
Friend? Yuuri blinked. "Viktor? What has he done?"
"Since he returned from the rink, he's inspecting pots and pans. He measured how much rice fits into a bowl, and how big the portions of fish and meat we serve are. He even weighed the vegetables!" She pursed her lips. "When he wanted to know how much oil we use to fry pork and how much grease is in the crust, he and Mom got into an argument. I tried to interpret, but my English is too poor to get him. I'm tired. Just take over."
With a sense of dread, Yuuri eyed the kitchen door.
A clamorous bang echoed from the kitchen, followed by a male voice shouting in a strange language. The door flew open and a heap of brown fur bolted past Yuuri and Mari, a cutlet in its muzzle. One moment later, Viktor appeared, grease stains on his dark-red T-shirt, a notepad in one hand, a pocket calculator in the other. When he spotted Yuuri and Mari, a wide grin spread across his face.
"Yuuri," he said, and swept back his silver-blonde hair. "You've arrived right on time. I need you to interpret."
"What happened?" Yuuri asked.
"I think I've accidentally upset your mother."
Yuuri shot his sister a questioning glance. Mari shrugged as if she was bidding him good luck and sauntered towards the restaurant.
"W-we will sort this out," Yuuri said.
A gush of warm air scented with frying meat and soy sauce greeted him as he entered the kitchen. The kitchen hood was humming loud enough to drown out the sizzling pans that were watched by one of the two cooks Yuuri's parents employed, while the other cook was cutting vegetables. The pair did most of the work, whereas Yuuri's mother mainly cooked for the family and on feasts and holidays. Yuuri found her tenderising cutlets with forceful blows of her hand as if attempting to kill the pig again.
"Mom?" Yuuri said, approaching the table. "What happened?"
"It honours me when our guests like our food and ask about the preparation," she replied. "I'm happy to explain the procedure to them. I even write the recipe down if they come from afar so they can cook it at home. And I really like your Vicchan."
"He's not my Vicchan, Mom," Yuuri said.
She raised her eyebrows while continuing pounding cutlets. When she spoke again, it seemed as if she had to compose herself. "But I don't like it when someone distrusts our cooking."
"Mom," Yuuri said gently. "What has Viktor done?"
The hand that was pounding the cutlet sank onto the kitchen counter. Her shoulders stiffened. "He accused me of using too much oil. He said it would cause you to gain weight and that he wouldn't have it."
It seemed a personal trait of Viktor to boldly blunder into other people's territory, but so far Yuuri had not caught an ill intention behind his actions. On top of that, he was unfamiliar with Yuuri's culture. Having lived in a country of a vastly different culture himself, Yuuri knew how difficult it was to adapt to foreign customs.
"Viktor," he said and translated his mother's words. "Is this what you said?"
Viktor's bangs whipped about as he shook his head. "I asked about the amount of oil she uses for frying. I wanted to calculate the nutritional value of the dishes to compose your new diet. I never blamed her for your overweight." He scratched his neck. "The translation app must have gotten it wrong."
"Would you please show me what you translated?"
"I've translated it from Russian."
"Please show it to me," Yuuri said.
Viktor pulled out his phone. "I've checked the English translation. I thought if the app gets it correct in one language, it should do the same for the other."
"I would not count on that," Yuuri said. "I do not know about Russian, but literal translations from Japanese to English and vice versa sometimes go wrong." He bent over the phone and read the translation from Russian and winced. "I am really sorry, but this does indeed sound rude. What happens when you translate it from English?"
Viktor swiped one finger over the display.
"This is an entirely different meaning," Yuuri said.
"Hum."
Yuuri summarised their conversation to his mother. "Viktor really didn't intend to be rude, it was the translation app's fault. Last night, he promised to reconfigure my diet so I would lose weight again. He cherishes your food, Mom. In fact, he wants me to eat more. He's very zealous and he's trying to be a good coach. Please don't be mad at him."
His mother regarded Yuuri in silence. Then she faced Viktor with an apologetic smile. "I believe you. But I would be pleased if you do your job outside the kitchen."
Yuuri translated her words into English. "But…" He swallowed. "I do not want to appear rude, but you must apologise to her, please."
"But it was a misunderstanding."
"You upset her. She thinks very highly of you." Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut. "Please do not make her change her mind."
Viktor's blue eyes grew wide. "She does?"
Yuuri shrugged with a smile. "She disapproves of disturbances in the kitchen. This and the mistranslation upset her."
"Well, then…" Viktor folded his hands. "Hiroko-san, my sincerest apologies for offending you by accident. I never intended to dictate how you prepare your excellent food. To be precise, I adore your food. I want Yuuri to eat healthy while he's dieting and I want to work on achieving this goal with you rather than against you. All I need to know for his diet are the ingredients used." He bowed.
Yuuri translated the words to his mother.
"He's clumsy, but has his heart in the right place," Yuuri's mother said after scrutinising Viktor for an extended moment. "Tell him, I accept his apology, Yuuri."
"I'm happy we agree on that." Viktor gave his most dazzling smile and bowed again. "And my apologies that Makkachin stole a cutlet."
A warm smile crossed Hiroko's face. "Viktor-san, you are here because of my son and I approve of that. Your dog can have all the cutlet he wants."
Did she just make an innuendo? "Mom…," Yuuri protested with growing unease.
"Translate my words, Yuuri," his mother chided.
Feeling his face heating, Yuuri relayed the words to Viktor.
"Thank you, Hiroko-san," Viktor replied in Japanese with another dazzling smile.
"Tell Vicchan, I'll write down the recipes if he needs them." She patted Yuuri's arm. "Now go and change into dry clothes before you catch a cold."
"Thanks, Mom," Yuuri said.
"I overdid it, huh?" Viktor asked when they walked down the corridor.
Just a bit. "You are just doing your job," Yuuri replied. "Please do not worry. She has forgiven you."
"Despite the hassle, your new diet plan is almost finished." Viktor eyed Yuuri, a smile on his lips. "Come over to my room. I'd like to discuss it with you." He winked.
Suddenly, Yuuri was more aware of his body than he liked. Sweat broke out on his brow.
"O-okay," he spluttered. "But I need to change first!"
And with that, he bolted up the stairs.
A shrine, Yuuri thought as he stopped before the former banquet room. I should have brought incense. No, that would be weird. Yet he could not shake the feeling that a deity was residing inside. The god of figure skating and hearts. Or something like that.
He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs. Since Viktor had moved in, Yuuri had entered this room twice. They usually saw each other in the restaurant, in the rink, in the hot spring, or during workout. What was he doing in there? All his life, Yuuri had believed he knew everything about Viktor Nikiforov. He knew by heart every ranking in every competition, every score, every injury, every summer camp, every costume, and every programme. He had read all the interviews in sports magazines and seen every video of his skating practice. He had even been following him on social media for years. But one month after his arrival, Yuuri had still a poor grasp of how Viktor was in private. If he was not displaying like a peacock, he was acting like the star he was, probably because he knew Yuuri was his fan.
You're too busy worshipping him to get to know him, he remembered Minako's words.
But he's so different from what I imagined. How can I get to know him without being a total embarrassment?
Better I continue treating him as what he is to me.
Taking a deep breath, Yuuri knocked.
"Come in, Yuuri!"
Yuuri pushed open the door. "I am here as you requested, Viktor."
Viktor was sitting in his armchair, typing with long, elegant fingers on his laptop. The afternoon light slanting through the open windows was bathing the room in golden light and crowned his silver-blonde hair with a halo. His dog was dozing on the engawa.
I shouldn't have used the god metaphor, Yuuri thought. Now I can't unthink it.
"He's digesting the cutlet," Viktor said, nodding towards Makkachin. "That was a complete off-schedule meal." He sighed. "He's so greedy, I'm thinking of devising a diet plan for him as well."
"Does Makkachin not like his new bed?"
"He loves it! He just prefers to sleep beside me," Viktor said.
"I can relate," Yuuri replied.
Viktor's face lit up. "Really?"
"I…," Yuuri's cheeks exploded with heat, "I mean… Vicchan used to sleep in my bed, too."
I'm such an embarrassment!
He stared at the photo Viktor had put up on a low cupboard next to the sofa of himself skating the free programme from two seasons ago. Three matryoshka dolls stood arrayed in ascending size next to it. "It… it is a pity that dogs cannot skate. If you take him to the rink, he would get enough exercise to compensate for the stolen food." Cringing, he squeezed his eyes shut. Figure skating dogs? That was all he could think of? How awkward was that?
"Once in winter, I went skating on a lake near St. Petersburg," Viktor said. "Makkachin enjoyed sliding on the ice, but I had to warm his paws afterwards."
It was a scene that was easy to visualise, although Yuuri struggled to picture Viktor skating in a winter coat. In his mind, Viktor was always wearing an eye-catching costume. "That sounds nice," he said awkwardly. "The lake. Not the frozen paws."
"It was after the Nationals on one of those days when the sun rises only a handspan above the horizon for a few hours." A smile spread across Viktor's face. "When the sun set in the afternoon, the world was painted in a beautiful twilight. I swore to return, but the next year I had a cold, and then I forgot about it."
That must have been four years ago, Yuuri calculated. When he was old as I am now.
"We rarely have snow in Kyushu. Our winters are too mild for frozen lakes. We have ski resorts, but the northern main island and Hokkaido are better suited for winter sports."
Viktor put a finger to his chin. "Might be worth a trip during the mid-season break after the Grand Prix Final," he mused.
"If you enjoy skiing, you will like Hokkaido."
For one moment, Viktor looked puzzled as if Yuuri had said something strange, then his face brightened. "Let's discuss your new diet plan!" He gestured to the sofa. "Take a seat, Yuuri."
Awkwardly, Yuuri sat down, his hands folded in his lap.
"In order to make it not overly restrictive, I chose from a variety of foods for breakfast, lunch, and dinner that fulfil the nutrition requirements," Viktor said. "Luckily, Japanese food seems to have a good nutritional composition—at least that's true for your mother's food as it's the only Japanese food I know―so the focus is on the amount you eat. Depending on your progress, we might need to adjust the plan." He turned the laptop around. "What do you think, Yuuri?"
Bending over the coffee table, Yuuri squinted at the display. Along with it came that pleasant scent of summer meadows, mixed with a whiff of aftershave. He blinked, trying to focus on the enormous spreadsheet Viktor had created for his diet. The first table contained his weight curve from the start of his diet until now and a detailed calculation of Yuuri's required nutrition based on his current weight, his exercise, and his goal. The next table contained a list of dishes including their amount of calories, carbs, protein, fat, and fibres. Many of them had fish or seafood as ingredients. By now, Yuuri's mind was already reeling with all the numbers and formulas. He clicked on the next table. It showed several suggestions on how he could compose a daily meal plan from these dishes. The last table had columns for the next four weeks that waited to be filled with the nutritional values of the dishes Yuuri would eat on those days. He returned to the first table.
"This is almost as much as I have eaten before," he said.
"But you didn't exercise as much as you do now," Viktor pointed out. "Right. Yuuri?"
"Um, right."
"These foods are protein-rich which will help you lose weight and gain muscle." Winking, Viktor wagged a finger. "That is if you don't overindulge."
"My stomach feels as if it is diminished to the size of a peach. I do not think I can overindulge anytime soon."
His gaze sharpening, Viktor leaned in. "Do you agree with this plan, Yuuri?"
Yuuri hesitated. His skin tingled where Viktor's hair had brushed over it. "It looks like a lot of food, but I do not want to starve any longer." Getting rid of his extra kilos was one thing, experimenting with his body was another. He yearned to be on the ice again and have Viktor teaching him!
"We will test this for one week. If it doesn't work, I'll think of something else."
Yuuri nodded. "Thank you, Viktor."
Viktor closed his laptop. "I'll give you a copy. Is there a printer in this house?"
"There is one in my parents' office. I can ask them later if we can use it."
"Wonderful! Now to the other thing I want to discuss with you."
Yuuri froze in cold dread. "W-what other thing?" he blurted. His voice was flat and hoarse and he hated himself for it.
"My stay in this country." Viktor winked. "I want you to teach me Japanese."
Instantly, Yuuri exhaled. "I am not sure if I can help you, but I will try my best. It is not an easy language to learn. You will need to study a lot on your own and learn our culture for context. But I will answer all your questions, of course." As he currently lacked the means to pay for coaching, it seemed fair to reciprocate with a favour.
Again, Viktor put a finger against his chin in thought. "Perfect! I started learning Japanese while you were doing chores. But today proved how little this helps me to get along on my own."
He's bored, Yuuri noted with a sudden stab of guilt. Because I'm unfit for skating. "I will try to lose weight as quickly as possible so you can start teaching me and do not need to find ways to not waste your time," he said. "And I will try to help you with your studies."
A smile crossed Viktor's face. "I don't believe that being here is a waste of time, Yuuri."
If I didn't need to eat and sleep, I could content myself with watching him skate for the rest of my life, Yuuri mused as he leaned against the barrier, watching Viktor doing a butterfly entry into a camel spin with an effortlessness that bordered on casual. The dizziness that the perfection unfurling before his eyes caused had nothing to do with the fact that he had completed a fifteen-kilometre run this morning and had not eaten since.
"Swooning again, Yuuri-kun?" a hushed voice asked next to him.
"Worshipping," Yuuri replied. "At least that is how it feels."
"Oh, yeah that's right," Yuuko breathed. "I was dreaming of him the other night. The next morning, Nishigori told me I had been moaning Viktor's name in my sleep." Her face turned scarlet and she pressed her hands to her mouth, suppressing a giggle. "He found it funny. He promised not to tell the girls."
Yuuri chuckled. "This is very thoughtful of him."
Her shoulder nudged him as she rested her chin on her crossed arms next to him. "How do you deal with Viktor being here? You see him all day."
That was something Yuuri had been mulling over and over during the past few weeks. Although the initial shock Viktor's arrival had caused had abated, he had no words for the emotional state he was in since.
"I don't know, Yuu-chan," he said. "I think I'm still processing that he is here."
Yuuko sighed. "For so many years, we admired him from afar. We copied his programmes to feel closer to him. And now we get to see his skating live every day for free. Most fans never get such an opportunity."
"Yeah," Yuuri said wistfully as Viktor did a quad flip that propelled him several metres through the air. Next to him, Yuuko let out a muted squeal. That Viktor had come here because of him was still too strange to grasp.
"I will thank you and my girls for the rest of my life for bringing him here," his friend said.
Thinking of his conversation with Minako, Yuuri said nothing.
"Which programme is he skating?" Yuuko asked. "I don't remember him doing this choreography."
"Something new, I think," Yuuri replied. "He's been experimenting a lot with new ideas lately."
She winked. "Perhaps he's choreographing your new programmes."
If that's the case, he's overly optimistic that I'll be fit for skating anytime soon, Yuuri thought. They had not yet talked about choreographies and programmes. "It could be anything. Maybe―" Had Viktor just jumped into a sit spin with a single Lutz or was Yuuri already making things up? "He's always been inventing himself over and over again."
"It's beautiful." Yuuko's voice was muted to a reverent whisper. "Do you think he would give us a private show of his greatest programmes?"
Yuuri shrugged. "Actually, I don't know him well enough to tell."
For the first time, Yuuko detached her gaze from their mutual object of admiration. "But he's staying with your family. What are you waiting for?"
She had a valid point. At least for people less awkward than Yuuri. How should he tackle the issue anyway without making an utter fool of himself? He might lose his new coach as quickly as he had gotten him.
"It doesn't feel appropriate," he said.
"But you talk, right?"
"Since he put up a diet plan for me and enquired about the exact nutrition of each food I'm allowed to eat, I'm busier interpreting than talking, Yuu-chan. No one can be mad at him because he charms everyone into doing as he pleases." After the kitchen incident, chaos had unfolded throughout Yuutopia Daytime Onsen. The ingredients of each dish Yuuri ate had to be calculated down to the exact gram. The resulting nutritional value Viktor put into the spreadsheet of doom. There had been an argument last Sunday when Yuuri's father had cooked because he never stuck to the recipe. In the end, Yuuri had been allowed seventy-three per cent of the normal size of this dish. Viktor had made him vow to not eat the breadcrumb coating of the beef. It had pained Yuuri because his father made excellent breadcrumb coating.
"That sounds exhausting," Yuuko said, her eyes warm with compassion.
Yuuri shrugged. "Since my method didn't work, Viktor's approach is worth a try. He's very committed."
"That's wonderful, Yuuri-kun! I'm sure he―"
"Konnichi wa, Yuuko-san!" Viktor called from the other side of the rink and waved.
A soft gasp escaped Yuuko. "Hi, Viktor-san!" she squealed.
With a few elegant strides, Viktor glided towards them. The ice crunched softly as he stopped in front of them. He swept back his tousled hair. "How are you, Yuuko-san?"
"Oh, fine. Thanks." She giggled. "The usual."
He smiled that dazzling Viktor Nikiforov smile. "How are Nishigori and the girls? I haven't seen them in a while."
Three days, Yuuri thought. It's been three days since they hung around here last and filmed you while you were skating.
"Oh, fine." Yuuko waved a hand. "The girls are at school. Nishigori―"
"Would you like to skate with me for a bit?" He winked. "Yuuri once said you two used to train together."
"Oh." Red blossomed on Yuuko's cheeks like a sunrise. "That was many years ago. We were in high school then." She was fanning herself with one hand. "Your offer honours me, but I'm afraid my skating skills have become very rusty. I wouldn't be able to keep up with you."
"Well." Viktor pouted. "I'd ask Yuuri, but he still has six kilos to drop until he's allowed to skate again." His blue eyes fixed on Yuuri and he smirked. "So, no skating with the little piggy. Right, Yuuri?"
Yuuri's mouth popped open. How can he be so rude and charming at once? That should be illegal! "Do it, Yuu-chan," he heard himself say in Japanese. "Most people never get the chance to skate with their idol."
A small frown creased her brow. "Is this really okay with you, Yuuri-kun?"
"He's my coach," Yuuri said, shrugging. "Apart from that, he can do as he pleases."
Her brown eyes glazed over, and she did a small jump. "I'll fetch my skates. Give me a minute!"
And with that, she dashed away.
With a puzzled expression, Viktor stared at the door she had vanished through. "Did I scare her away? She looked as if she was about to pass out."
"She is just putting on her skates."
"Ah." Viktor rested his elbows on the barrier, facing the ice. "It's been almost one week. How do you feel about your new diet, Yuuri?"
Yuuri blinked at the sudden change of topic. "Um, good. I am not hungry any longer."
"Did you drop another kilo?"
"I… have not checked yet. I wanted to do it tomorrow." If he weighed himself more often than once per week, Yuuri would go mad because he would fret about every gram his weight fluctuated.
"Right." Viktor scratched his neck. Then he turned with a smile that went right under Yuuri's skin. "At least you don't look as if your diet took a wrong turn." His smile widened. "We can start skating soon!"
"I… I hope so," Yuuri spluttered.
"I can't wait for it," Viktor said softly. It set Yuuri's heart racing. Viktor reached out but stopped when light steps drew near, his hand hovering in the air near Yuuri's cheek.
"I'm ready!" Yuuko panted. Her hand gripped the rail as she took off her guards.
"Wonderful!" Viktor said. He winked at Yuuri. "I'll keep it to the basics."
Yuuko pressed her phone into Yuuri's hand. "This is a historic moment. Please take photos for me, Yuuri-kun!"
"Sure," Yuuri said, struggling to recover from the way Viktor had just smiled at him. "Have fun."
Yuuko and Viktor took the ice. Their voices echoed through the rink as Viktor did a quick enquiry about Yuuko's skill level. Then, they did some simple choreography. Yuuko's face was flushed with elation as she copied the moves from her idol. Remembering how they had studied videos of Viktor's routines, put them on pause, and replayed sequences over and over, Yuuri got an impression of what training under Viktor would be like once he was ready.
They're having so much fun, he thought as Viktor spun Yuuko around and they both laughed. The drove a katana through his chest. Why can she skate with him without dying from embarrassment? Why can't I be more like her? Of the two of them, she had always been the stronger and more confident one.
Then he remembered his promise and took several hasty photos.
At last, the two skaters on the ice were finished. Viktor gave an elegant bow. Yuuko blushed profoundly and giggled. Viktor's eyes flashed to the barrier, and he grinned. Yuuri read a challenge in his ice-blue eyes.
He might be a god, but he is a flawed one, Yuuri decided. But I don't want him to be perfect. It's the imperfection that makes him so admirable.
"That was the best dance I ever had," Yuuko breathed as she stopped at the gate, fanning herself. "Yuuri-kun, you should try it, too!"
Avoiding Viktor's gaze, Yuuri handed her the phone. "Now you're swooning, Yuu-chan."
"You would too if you had danced with him, Yuuri-kun."
I wish I would have danced with him. "You're welcome," he said, forcing a smile.
"Can you believe it, Yuuri-kun? I just danced with Viktor Nikiforov on the ice! Tonight, I will dream of this!"
"Poor Nishigori," Yuuri teased. If Viktor had asked him, it would have been a super awkward, even mortifying experience. Yet Yuuri wished Viktor had asked him instead. Tonight when he replayed the events of the day in his head, he would picture him in Yuuko's stead on the ice with Viktor.
Yuuko scrolled through her phone. "Oh! These shots are beautiful! Axel, Lutz, and Loop will freak out! And Nishigori will get jealous! Thank you, Yuuri-kun!" Misty-eyed, she bent over the barrier. "Look, Viktor-san!" she said as the two stuck their heads together. It tugged at a door to a dark room in Yuuri's heart.
I really need to get rid of those damn last extra kilos!
Silently, he cleared his throat. "E-excuse me, but I must go home. Chores."
Viktor's head perked up. "Already? I thought that was in the afternoon."
Heat exploded on Yuuri's face. "That's right, but… I forgot that I must scrub the engawa before ballet classes." He managed a smile. "See you later!"
And with that, he fled the rink.
Post chapter scene
"Fasting is very effective," Mari insisted, one hand at her hip, the other balancing a tray with a teapot and cups, while she was standing in front of the table Yuuri and Viktor occupied each night. The room was filled with the clatter of dishes, the murmur of conversations, and the humming TV.
"It's especially effective in switching the body into survival mode. The weight loss doesn't last," Viktor objected when Yuuri had translated her words.
"Because people start overindulging once it's over. A fasting cure would have helped Yuuri slim down within two weeks and wiped the spirits of gluttony off his soul."
They aren't really discussing my diet, are they? Yuuri thought unnerved.
Viktor waved his chopsticks in a dismissive gesture. "With a healthy diet and regular exercise, the body is fully capable of ridding itself of toxins," Yuuri translated his words.
A muscle in Mari's face twitched. "The monks in our temples do fasting regularly and they are slim, and live long and healthy lives."
"Yuuri is no monk, Yuuri is an athlete."
"And he will be in better shape once he cleansed his body of the toxins."
Exasperated Yuuri stared from his sister to his coach and back.
"Yuuri," Viktor said. "What did she say?"
Yuuri closed his eyes. Then he translated Mari's words.
Viktor stroked his chin. "Tell your sister I won't risk ruining your metabolism and losing muscle tissue that might result in injury because of spiritual nonsense."
"O-okay," Yuuri said and translated the words to Mari, deliberately omitting the last half-sentence.
"If Yuuri keeps exercising during fasting he wouldn't lose muscle," Mari objected.
"She insists that I will not lose muscle tissue if I continue exercising while fasting," Yuuri told Viktor. "My apologies."
"Huh." A frown half-covered by his bangs creased Viktor's brow. "Of course, exercise helps reduce the loss of muscle tissue, but it doesn't avert it. Fasting would delay reaching the goals I set for Yuuri to get back in shape. In the end, it would take longer until I could start coaching him."
Yuuri knew how his sister would respond to this. He was done being their interpreter and mediator. It's not as if my diet were her responsibility.
"Mari-neesan," he said, putting a sharp edge into his voice. "Viktor appreciates your input, but he knows more about an athlete's diet than monks. And I trust him because he's my coach. So, stop interfering and let him do his job!"