trust me, i'm an alchemist - chapter 2
Apr. 29th, 2020 12:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
metisketHere is Chapter 2, in which Viktor tries to woo Yuuri, and Ed is not as helpful as Viktor might have preferred.
Enjoy! :)
“You’re coming with us to Yuuri’s house, Yura?” Viktor asks Ed, curious, when it becomes obvious that he has no plans to split off and go anywhere else.
“Yeah. Because I’m staying at Katsuki’s place. Why?”
Viktor eyeballs him. It’s irritating. “I’m not sure they have room for you.”
“Unlike some people, I’m capable of booking a room in advance,” Ed says scornfully. “So I have a room—an actual room—of my own. Thanks.”
“You mean Alyosha booked you a room,” Viktor corrects, smug asshole that he is.
“Shut up forever,” Ed instructs him, choosing to ignore Katsuki, who’s sneaky-laughing at them both. Katsuki’s really eased up over the course of the afternoon. Ed’s glad. He didn’t want to make the guy miserable in his own house. It wouldn’t be right.
They arrive at the inn, and the entire Katsuki family persists in being as superhumanly welcoming and friendly as they were when Ed first got there. Even the sister, Mari, who Ed had pinned all his hopes on, shows up to serve dinner and immediately decides he looks fun and interesting. She does interrogate him a little, but in a friendly way, and in Japanese, which is nice because it means Viktor can’t chime in with his opinions.
“What’s your name, anyway?” Mari asks, after she’s finished demanding to know how much weight he can bench press, why he speaks Japanese, and why he decided to come here to train. (She responded favorably to, ‘I had to after your brother seduced Viktor into coming here. Viktor owes me choreography.’ Katsuki, on the other hand, did not respond well to that at all. He’s still hiding under the table with Makka and making weird noises about it, in fact.)
“I’m Yuri Plisetsky,” he tells Mari.
“Well, we can’t call you that,” she decides. “It’s confusing.”
“Call me Ed,” Ed suggests, a little terrified of where this is going. “It’s the name of my favorite physicist.”
It’s even true. Ed is his own favorite physicist.
Unfortunately, it turns out that Japanese people have trouble saying Ed, which he should’ve known, since the terminal d appears nowhere in their syllabary. And it turns out that Mari calls all the shots in this house, which he also should’ve known, because she is basically the exact same person as Granny Pinako, only younger.
He’s getting called Yurio. He doesn’t have to like it, but apparently he has to live with it.
* * *
Yuuri would really like to know why Yurio is so determined to joke about him seducing Viktor. It’s mortifying. If there’s any seduction going on here, it is absolutely the other way around.
Except that that can’t really be happening either, can it? Why would Viktor want to seduce someone like Yuuri? No, it’s too ridiculous. Maybe Russians are just a really tactile people. Except that Yurio doesn’t seem to be. Maybe Viktor is just really tactile. Anyway, whatever is going on, Yuuri desperately wishes that Yurio would stop talking about it casually and in public. Or at all.
Yurio doesn’t care what would be good for Yuuri’s sanity, though. In fact, he seems determined to be baffling at every turn.
“Give me that,” Yurio snaps after dinner, snatching a tray of dirty dishes from Mari and whisking them off to the kitchen. “You work too hard. And if your lazy-ass brother can’t be bothered to help, I’ll do it. And so will Viktor, won’t you, you free-loading bastard?”
“I am actually paying for my room,” Viktor points out, smiling faintly. “And I’m also coaching Yuuri. But I’ll certainly help if you like!”
“No,” Yuuri insists. “You don’t have to—”
“Yes, he does,” Yurio growls from the direction of the kitchen. “He’s upending your entire life here, Katsuki, and mooching off your parents to boot. The very least you should do is make him work for it. Equivalent exchange.”
“…Thank you for your support, Yurio,” Viktor says distantly, looking a little strained.
“I like him,” Mari declares. “I think I like him better than you, Yuuri.”
Yuuri sighs, glad she at least had the decency to say that in Japanese. “Thanks, my loving big sister.”
“Viktor, get your ass in here and start washing dishes,” Yurio demands.
“…But we have a dishwasher?” Yuuri is honestly so confused right now.
“Then he can get his ass in here and put dishes in the dishwasher,” Yurio, who apparently has excellent hearing, shouts back.
Viktor trails into the kitchen looking bemused, and Yurio continues to shout at him and boss him around, and they’re just…so obviously family to each other. It’s only natural that Viktor would choreograph routines for Yurio, who is his little brother, or near enough. And they both fit here so well, entertaining Yuuri’s family, helping Mari out, and it’s just…
If there’s anyone who doesn’t belong here, it’s Yuuri.
He listens to the complaints and nagging and laughter from the kitchen, and the thought that he’s unneeded and unwanted builds and builds until he has to leave the house to skate before he has a meltdown in front of everyone.
Because that would really make everyone believe he was worth having around.
* * *
By the next morning, Yuuri is feeling more calm and optimistic about things in general—after all, both Viktor and Yurio came here, didn’t they? Viktor must believe in his skating at least a little, and even Yurio thinks Yuuri has something to teach him about ‘skating pretty.’ So he’s going to be calm. He’s not going to brood over the worst possible interpretation of every single thing. He’s not.
And it’s easier to stick to that than he thought it would be, because Yurio is nothing if not a huge distraction.
Just for a start, on the run to the rink, it quickly becomes apparent that Yurio knows more people in Hasetsu than Yuuri does.
Yuuri grew up in this town. It is his hometown. Yurio has been here for something shy of two days.
“Ohayou, Tanaka-san!” Yurio calls to yet another man Yuuri doesn’t recognize. “Okusan wa genki?”
Yuuri makes the effort to catch up with Viktor. “Why does Yurio know more people in my hometown than I do?” he gasps.
Viktor gives him a serious, sidelong look. “Because he always knows everyone, Yuuri. It is an evil magic he has. You could also ask why he speaks Japanese, because I don’t know that either, and can’t think of a single reason why he should. He’s terrifying!”
Viktor seems oddly pleased with how terrifying Yurio is. Or maybe he’s just pleased to find somebody to be terrified with him.
* * *
Viktor can’t decide whether it’s a relief to have Yurio here, or a disaster. If this trip had gone anything close to the way Viktor had hoped, Yurio would certainly have been a disaster—but Viktor’s carefully planned wooing of Yuuri through nudity and gorgeous choreography had thoroughly run aground even before Yurio arrived, so maybe it’s lucky he’s here. Maybe he’ll provide Yuuri with a distraction and a chance to calm down, or…whatever it is that Yuuri needs. Because it’s obvious that Viktor’s misunderstood something.
He’s currently trying to convince himself that Yuuri is just cripplingly shy, incredible though that seems, given what the man is like when he’s drunk. He doesn’t want to think that all Yuuri really wants from him is coaching—not that it’s not flattering that he wants Viktor to coach him! That’s very flattering. It’s just that Viktor had been sure there was more to it. Viktor’s certainly never danced with any of his coaches like that. (Dear God, no.)
And it doesn’t feel like Yuuri is playing with him, despite initial suspicions in that direction. Viktor’s had more than his fair share of being played with, and he’s almost completely confident that the problem is just that Yuuri is shy when sober. Very nearly confident. Either that, or Yuuri’s decided a relationship with Viktor would be a mistake, and is trying to distance himself, in which case Viktor either needs to give up on the whole idea, or else try to win Yuuri back. But since he has no idea which of these many possibilities might be the real issue, he has no idea what to do.
Maybe Yurio is a good distraction for Viktor, too.
(He does miss drunk Yuuri sometimes. He misses him so much that he feels guilty about it. If he’s proposing to be serious about Yuuri, he needs to love him in every mood, not just the mood most flattering to Viktor.)
“Have either of you ever thought about love?” Viktor asks when they arrive at the rink, and is unsurprised when Yuuri shakes his head. Disappointed, but unsurprised.
Yurio’s dangerously narrowed eyes and angry silence are a surprise, however. A slightly frightening surprise.
Viktor decides to firmly ignore that reaction for now and move right along. He explains about the two arrangements of On Love, then plays them for his two Yuris. He even encourages feedback. He’s not so bad at this coaching thing after all! At least, he hopes he’s not. He’s not sure he’d be able to live with himself if his coaching disappointed Yuuri—the very first person who has ever believed Viktor capable of anything other than skating. This is doubly true if coaching turns out to be all Yuuri wants from him.
“Well, I’m obviously not doing Eros,” Yurio announces grumpily, interrupting Viktor’s increasingly troubled thoughts. “So I guess I’m stuck with the other one.”
“Why do you say that?” Viktor asks, intrigued. He’d rather been expecting Yurio to insist on Eros.
Yurio, however, is staring at him like he’s an idiot. “Because I’m an actual child,” he says slowly and carefully. “It would be weird.”
Yuuri has to turn away and cover his mouth to hide laughter. Viktor wishes he could do the same, but he can’t, because Yurio’s laser eyes are still on him.
“As it happens, I agree,” he confirms hastily. “You will perform Agape, and Yuuri will perform Eros!”
Yuuri has now stopped laughing in favor of looking completely horrified. Viktor is…confused by that. If there’s one thing all three of them know Yuuri excels at, it’s Eros. It is true that he’s never done anything like it in competition before (which is a terrible waste, frankly), but since he knows perfectly well that he can, where’s the problem?
He’s a very difficult person to understand, is Katsuki Yuuri.
And maybe it’s the confusion and frustration and general sense of despair that causes Viktor to announce that if his Yuris don’t skate up to his standards, he won’t coach either one of them.
He’s almost sure he doesn’t really mean it, and he certainly didn’t mean to make Yuuri look so worried and pale. But it’s clearly a motivating threat, so he’s not backing down on it.
(Yurio, of course, immediately declares that he wouldn’t let Viktor be his official coach if they were the last two people on Earth, so that puts Viktor right in his place.)
* * *
Ed’s not sure choreography is worth all this.
Don’t get him wrong—it’s damn good choreography, even if Ed’s not a fan of the music. He can tell, too, that Viktor modified his original idea pretty heavily to fit Ed’s body type better—Ed doesn’t have Viktor’s (or even Katsuki’s) long, elegant lines. He’s more of a tank. Different things look good for tanks than for these freakishly tall, skinny types, and Ed’s amazed that Viktor took that into account, considering he’s never choreographed for anybody else before.
So that’s the one hand: he’s impressed all over again with Viktor’s skating genius.
But then there’s the other hand: the hand where Viktor continues to be a giant, embarrassing disaster when it comes to anything other than skating. And Katsuki is no better. Katsuki may be worse.
The only reason Ed hasn’t run off screaming is because of Katsuki’s childhood friend, Yuuko, who is just. Cool. Seriously, the coolest person in Hasetsu. (Except maybe for Katsuki’s ballet teacher, Minako. She’s extremely cool, but she also seems like the person most likely to kill Ed for interrupting Katsuki and Viktor’s inept seduction of each other, so he’s trying to steer clear of her.)
Yuuko’s only flaw is that she’s weirdly obsessed with Viktor’s skating, but lots of people suffer from that affliction. Even Ed suffers from it a little. She’s maybe even obsessed with the idea of Viktor, but she’s not obsessed with Viktor himself, and that’s all Ed asks. God knows Katsuki is doing enough of that for everybody.
So yeah, given the way things stand, Ed should’ve known better than to be in the rink when Viktor first demonstrated the sexy program he made up special for Katsuki. And yet he has no choice. He has to be here because they’re practicing after this. Some time. Eventually. He hopes.
But for the moment, here they are: Viktor molesting Katsuki’s face while Yuuko watches with shiny eyes and picks names for their future children, with Ed off to the side seriously wondering if they’re ever going to get to work.
Ed is the most professionally behaved person in this rink right now. That is damning.
* * *
Al’s noticed, over the years, that Ed is very weird about phone calls. He doesn’t like them, and he isn’t good at them, either. If Al puts him on the phone with somebody when he’s in a ranting mood, he’ll at least rant for the length of a normal call, but the instant he’s finished, he abruptly hangs up. If he has nothing to rant about, he generally manages to mutter about five awkward sentences before hanging up.
It’s doubly weird because Ed’s perfectly happy to text at all times. He’s such a strange person.
What all this means is that Al is deeply alarmed when he notices an incoming call from Ed. Surely something terrible has happened—hospitals, arrests, freak encounters with the Gate.
But no, it turns out that Ed’s just being ridiculous.
“Hey, Al,” Ed begins absently. “So Viktor is stupid in love with Katsuki, and it’s a huge pain in my ass.” Al can already tell this call is going to be memorable. “And Katsuki doesn’t seem to get that, so he’s accidentally trampling on Viktor’s feelings all over the place, and Viktor’s smiling and pretending to be fine and then going off and getting shitfaced drunk, same as when Yakov makes him sad. He cares about Katsuki to a Yakov degree. So basically, his ass is never coming back to Russia, and I need to squeeze all the choreography I can get out of him right now. So I’ll be staying a little longer than I thought. We’re doing a whole sexual frustration ice show or something. But then I’m out. I don’t think I can stand to stick around long enough for him to choreograph my free skate—the second-hand embarrassment is too strong.”
“Why don’t you just tell Yuuri that Viktor’s in love with him, brother?” Al asks, amused. “Why doesn’t Viktor tell him?”
“Viktor can’t communicate like a person, you know that,” Ed sighs. “And I can’t tell Katsuki because he’d never believe me. There’s a chance he wouldn’t even believe Viktor, because he is that kind of mess. No, it’s their problem, and they can figure it out on their own. Preferably without my having to watch, because it’s painful. They’re supposed to be adults, for fuck’s sake.”
This is…a bit of a pot-calling-the-kettle-black situation. Then again, Ed does have a point—Viktor and Yuuri are adults. Surely they should be better at this than Ed, of all people. It’s sad that they’re not.
“Do you like your choreography, at least?” Al asks hopefully.
“Eh.” Long pause. “It’s okay, I guess. It’s about, you know. Agape.”
“…Okay. Well, you know a lot about agape.”
“Yeah, and where the fuck did it get me? Where the fuck did it get you?”
“It got me here alive, Brother,” Al insists firmly.
Ed grumbles incoherently. Only Ed could manage to resent his own generous capacity for love, speaking of people who are embarrassing disasters. Al wonders if Ed’s noticed yet that he’s come to love Viktor and Yuuri and, from the tone of his latest text messages, the entirety of the Nishigori and Katsuki families as well. Al’s guessing no. Not any more than he’s noticed that the prospect of serious competition from people he respects means he’s honestly enjoying figure skating for the very first time.
Not huge on self-awareness, Al’s brother. Just self-recrimination.
“Anyway, that’s all I wanted to tell you—I’ll be here an extra week. But you’re good? No lab explosions?”
“I’m fine, Brother. I’m not the one who blows things up in this family.”
“Hey!”
“And Grandpa’s fine, too.”
“Okay. That’s good. Later.”
“Talk to you later.”
And Ed hangs up.
Al sighs. Ed can make fun of Viktor for not being able to communicate all he wants, but he’s standing on very thin ice.
* * *
<Ed>
if viktor gets any more passive-aggressive about my disproportionate upper-body strength he’s going to disappear up his own asshole.
<Ed>
yeah, well, all my other coaches just yelled at me about it
viktor’s smiling and giving me backhanded compliments
I’m going to use all that upper-body strength to throw his ass off a bridge
see how he likes that
<Ed>
well then it’d match my DISPROPORTIONATE upper body strength
which it isn’t even, by the way
my arms are about as muscley as the rest of me
it’s just that figure skaters have little stick-figure t-rex arms
<Ed>
and that’s one of the many reasons we’re friends
<Ed>
maybe
<Ed>
I need the arms for fighting assholes
<Ed>
then I wouldn’t be me at all
<Ed>
don’t be reasonable at me
you know I hate that
<Ed>
…now I feel like you’re fucking with me
<Ed>
Asshole.
* * *
Possibly as a fuck you to everybody bitching about his strength ratio, Ed is arm-wrestling Nishigori behind the counter at the rink again. They’ve done this many times. Every single time Nishigori loses, and every single time he refuses to believe he could possibly have lost. Ed’s pretty sure Yuuko is going to hurt something from laughing so hard.
Ed wins. Again. Nishigori throws a quiet but sincere fit. His wife and daughters all laugh at him.
This is what Ed would be giving up if he let his arms get weak.
Then again, Otabek’s right, as usual—nobody said his arms had to be weak. They said he had to be balanced…which, come to think of it, Teacher would like better, too. Balance makes you faster.
Ed’s core is already almost as solid as his arms—that’s important for fighting, too. But his legs…they’re fine for running and dodging and kicking, but probably not as outrageously badass as a skater’s really should be. So Ed needs to step up his leg training, huh? But while keeping every bit as flexible—or, if Otabek is right, even more flexible. Somehow.
Crap, he needs to ask Viktor for training advice.
No, fuck that, he is absolutely not asking Viktor for advice on anything other than choreography. He could never live that down. He would rather ask Katsuki—and how sad is that? So sad.
“Katsuki!” he shouts, abandoning the Nishigoris and storming into the warm up room. “I need advice!”
Yuuri looks up from stretching and blinks at Ed in adorable confusion. He needs to stop being adorable—it makes it impossible to resent him as much as Ed would like to. “…From me?”
“Yes, from you, asshole,” Ed snaps. “You’ve got ten years’ experience in skating on me. Do I look like I know what the hell I’m doing? Because I really, really don’t.”
Yuuri doesn’t seem to have any idea how to take that, but Yuuko laughs—because she’s followed Ed in here for the free entertainment. (Yuuko’s the best.)
Ed chooses to ignore all the bullshit and steamroll ahead—so he lays out his problem for Yuuri. And Yuuri, once he gets over the idea that Ed gets into fights on the regular (Which takes half an hour. Half. A goddamn. Hour.), is actually pretty useful. Very useful. Useful to the point where Ed’s gonna have to do something nice for him, because equivalent exchange.
Actually, he’s supposed to be teaching Yuuri to land a quad salchow, isn’t he? And he’s running out of time to do it in. Looks like now’s good, then.
What this all boils down to is three solid hours of Yuuri entirely changing Ed’s training routine, followed by hardcore and seemingly endless jump practice. Because Yuuri is a machine. Meanwhile, Ed’s whole body is gonna hurt for a month.
“Why would you come to me for help and not Viktor?” Yuuri asks timidly at the end of the day. Yuuko looks interested, too. And so do all three of the triplets, who ninja’d into the rink as soon as jump practice started. (Nishigori’s probably still nursing his wounded pride in the back office. Heh.)
“Because Viktor is useless,” Ed informs Yuuri. “You haven’t noticed yet, but you will. Good luck getting coached by that disaster.”
“Viktor is not a disaster,” Yuuri insists severely.
Ed should know better than to try to reason with the infatuated. “Yeah, okay.”
Yuuri makes a face at Ed that is honestly pretty scary. Ed beams. He knew Yuuri had it in him.
“What do you mean by that, Yurio?” Yuuko asks, interrupting the staring contest. “Viktor’s the most amazing skater in the world right now. I wouldn’t call that useless.”
Ed turns to face her and waves his hands, batting that idea away. “I don’t mean his skating is useless. I mean he’s useless at explaining shit to other people. Or maybe it’s just me. That could be. I don’t get him, he doesn’t get me—I can’t ask him for help on this. It wouldn’t do any good, and even if it did, I could never live with the shame.”
“…You asked him to choreograph a routine for you,” Yuuri points out.
“Yeah, well, he doesn’t have to explain choreography. He just has to show it to me. That’s different. You’re the one getting full-on coaching from him, and like I say, good luck.”
“…Unless I don’t skate well enough and he leaves,” Yuuri says sadly.
Ed rolls his eyes so hard it hurts a little. “He’s not leaving you, Katsuki.”
“I still don’t understand why he came here in the first place,” Yuuri admits, showing a lot of vulnerability by Katsuki standards. And to Ed of all people.
Ed likes to think of himself as unapproachable. Someday he’s gonna manage to get other people to agree with him, and hopefully to stop sidling up to him and dumping their insecurities all over him all the time.
“It’s because you’re pretty and Viktor’s stupid,” Ed explains. And, in the spirit of fairness, adds, “Also he was probably, you know. Depressed or whatever.”
Yuuri treats Ed to some judgmental side-eye. “Ha. I’m not pretty. And Viktor’s not—”
“Are you calling me a fucking liar?”
“What? No! I just meant—”
“Yuuri-kun,” Yuuko says in a weirdly threatening way, staring at Yuuri with the basilisk stare that only mothers are cool enough to use.
Yuuri apparently knows what the stare means, because he shifts uneasily and says, with deep resentment, “Thank you for calling me pretty.” With a strong implied addition of but I’m not actually pretty and you’re either a liar or a moron for saying so. Nice. “But Viktor’s not stupid. And he’s not—”
Oh, there it is. Yuuri just let himself actually think about it. Because if you’ve been paying any attention at all, you can’t look at the Viktor Nikiforov of the last couple years and say that he’s been even a little bit happy. Whether it’s textbook depression or not is debatable, but happy? Definitely not.
“That’s right,” Ed says, satisfied. “Don’t go thinking you’re the only giant mess in that relationship.”
“Yurio-kun,” Yuuko says, and now Ed’s getting the basilisk stare.
“What?!” he squawks, indignant. “What did I say? I just told him the truth!”
The triplets all snicker meanly at him. And here he thought they were friends.
“It may be true, but that doesn’t mean you needed to say it to him,” Yuuko chides, ignoring Yuuri’s yelped protest. “He’s very sensitive about Viktor. I know you know better than to poke at sensitive topics.”
“I don’t know anything,” Ed snaps waspishly. “I’m not even from this planet—how am I supposed to understand your alien ways?”
Yuuri frankly stares and Yuuko and the triplets laugh even harder. Because that’s what happens when you tell people the honest truth around here.
* * *
<Ed>
other yuri is getting called katsudon from here on out.
<Ed>
because last night viktor asked him to think about what his eros was, right
for his program
but also because VIKTOR right now
and he’s like, I dunno, what is eros, I have lived my whole life for skating and have literally never thought about this.
<Ed>
…
…
…you’ve got a point.
<Ed>
shut up. because you know what else I am?
FIFTEEN YEARS OLD
these assholes are meant to be adults
we talked about this
anyway. viktor’s like: go THINK about what your EROS is
because he wants katsudon to say ‘oh, it’s YOU viktor.’
obviously
<Ed>
you guess right
because katsudon thinks about it for like hours and then, eureka moment!
<Ed>
he’s like: MY EROS IS KATSUDON.
<Ed>
it’s food, Al. it’s not even fancy food. it’s really good, but like
NOT A SEXY FOOD, AL
it’s like saying beef stew is my eros
<Ed>
yeah. wow. this is viktor’s real life right now. he’s dying.
and it’s the best thing
that has ever happened to me
<Ed>
you are totally laughing as hard as I am don’t pretend that you’re not
* * *
“I thought he was on social media, but he’s actually always texting, isn’t he?” Yuuri asks Viktor. He’s watching Yurio up in the stands, tapping rapidly away at his phone with a horrible little smirk on his face. Yuuri’s eyes are shining with curiosity, which is a particularly beautiful look on him. “Who’s he talking to?”
Yuuri is killing Viktor here, he really is, what with being gorgeous, talented, fascinating, and now sincerely interested in Viktor’s favorite people as well. And also with his flat refusal to acknowledge any of Viktor’s romantic overtures in any way. By now, Viktor’s also firmly decided that having Yurio here to watch it all play out with knowing, mocking eyes is making the experience even more unnecessarily painful. And Viktor had such hopes of Yurio’s ability to be a distraction! He feels betrayed.
“He talks to all sorts of people,” Viktor explains, dismissing his worries to brood over later, as usual. “He really does seem to know everyone. And not just know them—practically everyone he meets would be happy to punch him in the face, willing to die to defend him, or both, and in any case, they all seem to have a lot to say to him about it.”
In response, beautiful Yuuri actually makes eye contact with a smile, which is rewarding, reassuring. “Punch him in the face or die to defend him? Which one are you?” he asks, clearly amused.
Viktor blinks. “Me? Both. Absolutely both. At the same time. It’s confusing.”
Yuuri laughs. Yuuri is lovely when he laughs. He is going to be the death of Viktor.
“Most often, he talks to his brother, Alexei,” Viktor continues, since talking about Yurio seems to make Yuuri smile. Which is distressing in its own way, but Viktor’s willing to work with anything at this point.
“Really? I didn’t know he had a brother.”
“They’re very close,” Viktor explains. “Which is odd, because they are nothing alike. Alexei is a charming, quiet, polite boy, studious and humble. Also horrifyingly manipulative and a master class liar. He frightens me badly, Yuuri. I am terrified of that boy.”
Yuuri is laughing again. This is officially the most successful conversation they’ve ever had while Yuuri was sober. Blessings upon Yurio and his entire house.
“You said you were terrified of Yurio, too,” Yuuri points out, still smiling. “Though I guess that’s fair. I heard he once tried to kill Jean-Jacques Leroy during a practice session.”
“That is a gross exaggeration of the facts,” Viktor insists piously. “And while I am a bit terrified of Yurio, it’s as nothing compared to my fear of Alyosha. What you see is what you get with Yurio. If that…Jean-Jack?...had been paying any attention at all, he could’ve easily avoided the situation. It’s like taunting a tiger. What happens to you next can’t really be considered the tiger’s fault.”
“Ah. But what you see isn’t what you get with Yurio’s brother?”
“What you see is exactly what Alyosha wants you to see, and he’s been that way as long as I’ve known him. He was an especially unnerving twelve-year-old.”
Yuuri is looking directly into Viktor’s eyes now, something unusually calm and steady in his expression. “And how long have you been that way?” he asks, very quiet.
“What?” Viktor responds, more out of shock than lack of understanding, but it’s too much for Yuuri, who bolts out onto the ice, babbling something about jumps.
Viktor’s known all along that Yuuri is a fan. Despite his sudden, upsetting reluctance to let Viktor anywhere near him, he still does all the fan things—blushes when Viktor’s close, hesitates to contradict him, incorporates parts of Viktor’s programs into his own. But he’s also done some delightfully non-fannish things, of which this is only the latest.
It’s been a long time since someone saw through any part of Viktor’s mask and admired him anyway. In fact, Viktor’s not sure that has ever happened before.
Katsuki Yuuri. Always a surprise.
* * *
It’s a sad fact, but in a minute, Ed’s going to have to kill Viktor Nikiforov. All of Russia will mourn.
“Agape is a feeling. You can’t put it into precise words,” Viktor says, looking as vague and useless as he knows how—which is really goddamn vague and useless. “Do you really think of things in that much detail while you’re skating? You’re so strange, Yurio!”
As if Ed doesn’t know that Viktor choreographed Eros while blatantly obsessing over Katsuki Yuuri the entire frigging time, and no doubt in horrifying detail. He based it on their GPF dance, for God’s sake. It doesn’t get more specific than that.
Ed has a sneaking suspicion that Viktor choreographed Agape while obsessing over Katsuki too, but he’s trying not to think about that because it depresses him.
“You’re so full of shit,” Ed tells him. “Then give me vague words to describe this feeling you think I ought to be having.”
“Agape,” Viktor repeats in an agony of uselessness, waving his hands around. “Endless, unconditional love, free of expectation, hopeful, but also at peace with itself.”
“Yeah okay, great. Except that I don’t love like that!” Ed finally yells at Viktor’s stupid face. “I know what unconditional love is, asshole. I’m pretty sure I know better than you do. But this music is hopeful and sweet and innocent, and that’s bullshit. Love isn’t any of those things. Love is grim, desperate shit, it’s planting your feet and taking whatever comes and dealing with it, it’s being prepared to bleed and die to defend your loved ones. This springtime, fairytale crap—this is, I don’t know, falling in love, maybe. Back when you’ve still got hope, before life burns it out with acid.”
There is dead silence for a very long time, while Ed scowls indiscriminately around the rink. And then, proving once again why she’s his favorite person here, Yuuko says, “Well…he’s not wrong.”
Viktor, meanwhile, has that look he always gets whenever Ed’s childhood is shoved into his face. Like he really wants to scream and flee the building, but is forcing himself to stick around by enormous force of will. Ed sneers at him.
Katsudon, though, has to be just as weird and unpredictable as ever. “Yurio, I think you’re wrong about the music,” he says quietly. “I understand what you’re saying, and…the beginning could be hopeful, and maybe…naïve. But as it goes along, it becomes more…committed, maybe? Desperate? It’s how you hear it, I think. But the main point of it is just…abandoning yourself. To this feeling, this…um. Devotion? Like you’d leave behind every part of yourself and never look back, if it would make them happy. And there’s something beautiful in that.”
Fuck, is Katsudon—‘my Eros is katsudon’ Katsudon—explaining love songs to him now? This is ridiculous. And it doesn’t help that Viktor’s staring at Katsudon like…Ed doesn’t even know. Like he’d throw away every part of himself if he could just get Katsudon to make sense, maybe.
Katsudon is probably right about the music, too, which definitely makes everything more annoying.
“Okay, but the lyrics are sappy bullshit and you can’t take that from me,” Ed says firmly. Fores occultas his ass. You don’t open doors that hide things; Ed learned that the hard way. You leave them closed.
“…You speak Latin?” Viktor asks, sounding tired for some reason.
“No, I understand Latin,” Ed snaps, impatient with Viktor’s everything. “Only diehard nerds speak dead languages.” Ed and Al had to learn to read it, though, because it’s the language all the old alchemy books are in. Only after they went to the trouble of learning it did they discover that Earth alchemy was at best a proto-science and at worst blatant quackery. What a goddamn waste of time.
“Heaven forbid anyone should think of you as a diehard nerd,” Viktor murmurs.
Ed graciously chooses to ignore this comment. Which is more than can be said for Katsudon, who’s smirking. Ed considers knocking him down and sitting on him, see how he likes that. But no, he’s here to skate. No distractions!
“Fine,” he decides. “I’m skating this bastard like there’s something beautiful about willingly climbing onto a rack for your loved ones, and I’m doing it while ignoring every single word of the lyrics.”
“I look forward to it!” Viktor says, beaming like a guy who wants to walk out of this rink carrying his teeth in his hand.
Ed skates the damn thing anyway. He starts to skate it thinking about what he’d sacrifice for Al, but that’s…that’s not it, is it? Katsudon said if it would make them happy, so Ed focuses in on that. He stops thinking about what he’d give up for Al, and starts thinking about making Al happy. And Winry happy. Granny Pinako and Den, Teacher and Sig, Grandpa, Otabek, Mila, Yuuko and the triplets and Nishigori, the Katsukis, and even stupid Viktor and Katsudon. He thinks about them living their lives, peaceful, safe, and well—and then he thinks about how much he’d give for them to have that.
“Very good,” Viktor tells him afterward, sounding serious for once in his life. “Now we can move on to the next level.”
Ed’s not exactly pleased that Viktor liked the way he skated that, because emoting all over the ice is exhausting. Seriously, he just thought about the past more in a few minutes than he usually allows himself in a month. And Viktor wants him to do this shit every day? While also doing Katsudon’s new strength-training routine, so he can be physically wiped out as well as emotionally wiped out?
Ed’s gonna die.
* * *
Yurio is apparently too exhausted to argue about bathing with other people today, because he just follows Yuuri, zombie-like, into the onsen changing room without complaint.
Yuuri has a sudden insight into why public bathing might be an issue when Yurio drops his robe. For one thing, he has a huge tattoo on his back—a cross with a snake wrapped around it, wings to the sides and a crown on top, a bit like a medical symbol? Yuuri has no idea what that’s about, though he’s reasonably sure you can’t legally get a tattoo at Yurio’s age in Russia or anywhere else. Also, he is intensely glad that his parents don’t ban people with tattoos from the onsen the way so many places do, because he would not want to have that conversation with Yurio. God.
For another, more distressing thing, Yurio has…really a lot of scars. That would be alarming enough on its own, but everything else pales by comparison to the horrifying scar on his left leg. It looks like someone tried to hack the leg off just above the knee, which—surely that can’t be what happened, but that’s what it looks like.
But Yuuri shouldn’t be looking at all, and he has absolutely no business asking. Most scars are the result of something traumatic or embarrassing, and people almost never want to talk about them. So Yuuri’s not going to look, and he’s not going to ask.
So he doesn’t ask, and he doesn’t look. Not in the changing room, or as they clean off, or as they get into the onsen. It’s actually Yurio who breaks first.
“Oh my God,” Yurio groans, sinking low in the water. “I can hear your brain frying from here. I fucked up, okay? That’s why my leg’s a mess. I was a stupid, stupid kid, and I let myself believe that I could save my mother’s life without sacrificing anything, and I was just—I was wrong. It almost got me and my brother both killed right along with our mom, that’s how wrong I was. How arrogant. So fuck agape, you know?”
Yuuri now has a thousand questions and is too afraid to ask any of them. “I’m so sorry,” he says instead.
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry too, but that doesn’t fix anything. All you can do is get up and keep walking. So now you know, and that means I’m using the hell out of this bath, because it’s amazing.”
Get off your ass and keep walking, Yuuri remembers. Be grateful you still have two good legs to walk on. It’s the first thing Yurio ever said to him, and now he finally has context for it. He’s probably going to have nightmares.
“…I’m glad you like it,” Yuuri says hesitantly. “Does…does Viktor know about…?”
“My fuck ups in life? No. He knows about the mess I made of my body because we share a locker room, but he doesn’t know how any of it happened. Every time I tell him anything about life before Yakov he gets this look on his face like I just murdered Makkachin, so I try not to tell him anything. No one likes to see a grown man cry, Katsudon.”
“…I cry all the time.”
“That’s different. You’re not weird about it.”
Yuuri’s pretty sure he just got complimented. On crying. By Yurio.
Fortunately he’s not called upon to process the situation any more than that, because Viktor chooses this moment to barge in and draw all the attention to himself. It’s a relief.
* * *
It takes Ed an embarrassingly long time, but he eventually figures out that Katsudon isn’t actually a coward. He would feel worse about this, but Katsudon is a confusing hot mess, and figuring him out at all is an epic challenge. Ask anyone. Ask Viktor.
Katsudon, see, he’s afraid of everything. Some things more than others, yeah, but still, everything. Which means that walking out the front door, for Katsudon, is about as terrifying as charging an armed man bare-handed would be for Ed.
And still, Yuuri does it every morning.
Figuring this out leads to an uncomfortable few days in which Ed is kind of in awe of Katsudon, but then he watches the guy climb one of the hills outside town with reckless disregard for his own wellbeing, and he comes to another awful realization.
Most of the things Yuuri’s afraid of are irrational, and because he’s not stupid, he knows that. The kicker is that he can’t reliably tell the difference between a rational fear and an irrational one—they feel the same to him. So he mostly treats them the same. Like they’re all irrational. On a day when he’s feeling strong, he just pushes on past any and all fear and does whatever.
So basically what this means is that Katsudon is a maniac, and he can’t be trusted with his own safety. Which is awesome, because that’s just what Ed needs—another person to worry about.
“Pretty sure he’s more afraid of living than he is of dying,” Ed complains bitterly to Otabek. “What the hell is that about? Also his self-esteem is garbage. I just want to grab him by the throat and shake him until he believes me when I say he’s talented and hot and fun to be around.”
“I’m pretty sure grabbing him by the throat and shaking him wouldn’t help,” Otabek points out gently. He can be such a killjoy. “And you should be careful, telling him he’s hot. He might get the wrong idea, there.”
“No, it’s fine. He thought I was joking. Like mean joking. Why doesn’t he know he’s awesome? It’s so annoying, Beka. Thank God you and Al know you’re awesome and I don’t have to fight with you about it.”
“I’m glad to be of help in any way I can,” says Otabek. And he’s trolling, but he’s also serious. That’s why Otabek is the best. (Even if he did answer the phone with the words Are you dying? So Ed doesn’t call people on the phone much—so what? Otabek and Al are such drama queens.)
“Did you ever decide what went wrong with Katsuki at the GPF?” Otabek goes on.
“Oh, that. Yeah, his sister told me.” Ed might’ve written long, babbling text messages to Otabek about his curiosity concerning this particular mystery in the past, so he deserves an update. “So it turns out it was a lifelong dream of his to skate on the same ice as Viktor, or some such bullshit—but fine. It was a stupid dream, but it was his, so he buried himself under a mountain of pressure about it. Everything had to be perfect for Viktor. Viktor, of all people. So he was a stressed out mess on the edge of a meltdown anyway, and then his dog died between his short program and his free skate. And that was it. Catastrophic system failure.”
“…That’s awful,” Otabek allows.
“It is,” Ed agrees grudgingly. “And, I mean…his dog died, he fucked up his dream skate with the whole world and Viktor watching, he went off to cry about it in what he thought was privacy, and then I found him and yelled at him for crying. So I guess it’s not surprising that he got drunk off his ass at the banquet.”
“I would have,” Otabek allows. “Maybe you should yell at people less.”
“I should wait to yell at people until I have context,” Ed corrects. He does not appreciate Otabek’s long, exasperated sigh in response. So he hangs up on him.
He does feel bad, though. Like, he meant what he said to Katsudon back then—you gotta get up and keep walking no matter what the fuck happens, and that’s the truth. But maybe he could’ve given the guy a day to process before yelling at him. It’s not like Ed has a history of dealing gracefully with the loss of loved ones.
And that dog was seriously loved, to an extent Ed finds a little weird. It’s the same way Viktor is about Makkachin, and like…Ed’s not sure if it’s his farm-kid upbringing or what, but he doesn’t get it. Because when you get a dog? You already know you’re gonna outlive that dog, unless you’re super old when you get it, or unless you get hit by a train or something. So isn’t part of you preparing for that dog’s death from the moment you pick it up as a puppy?
If Ed had been around to see Den die, he would’ve been really sad, obviously. He’d have cried and helped bury him in a nice grave and all that. But he can’t see himself being shrine-in-the-house sad. That seems extreme. Although, fuck, what does he know about this planet? Maybe everybody here puts up shrines to their pets, and Amestris was just cold about it because humans were dying left, right, and center. Could be. (Although, truth: Ed valued Den a lot more than a lot of humans. So…)
That’s not Ed’s only issue with that shrine, either. It’s not even the most serious one. The most serious one is this: it makes him very uneasy that the picture of the dog also has Yuuri in it. Like, isn’t everybody featured in these shrines supposed to be dead? Ed thought they were supposed to be dead. And if they are, that would mean that during the five years Yuuri was gone, the Katsukis started, like. Treating him like he was dead. Or at least lost to them. That is…scary in ways Ed can’t coherently define.
It may be that he’s taking it too personally. Would Winry and Granny Pinako have a shrine with a picture of him and Al in it, if they did shrines?
(He knows they would.)
On the other hand, if the people and/or animals in the pictures are just ones you miss and want to send good wishes to, Yuuri’s presence in the picture is sweet, and not creepy at all.
Maybe Ed’s a coward, but he’s definitely too afraid to ask and make sure.
* * *
The less said about the costume debacle, the better. For one thing, Viktor’s drinking again (the hell did Katsudon say to him this time?). For another thing, Ed wasn’t allowed to choose anything badass as a costume, because Mari insisted it didn’t ‘suit his theme’ or whatever, so now he’s in some silvery white thing that looks blatantly ridiculous on him, in his humble opinion. And it’s a very humble opinion too, because for damn sure nobody else gives a shit about it, up to and including Ed’s very own traitorous brother.
And then there was the experience of watching Katsudon fanboy uncontrollably for ten minutes and then pick out the lingerie bondage costume for his sexy program. Which was. Special.
The good news is, in just a week, Ed’s free to run away back to Russia and leave this awkward shitshow behind him.
He’s not going to miss these idiots at all. He’s not. He doesn’t care what Al says.
* * *
They’re finally getting ready to skate their whole Sexual Frustration on Ice bullshit, and Yuuri’s freaking out. They haven’t even left the house yet, and Yuuri’s freaking out. Ed is almost impressed. Like, this is an ice show that doesn’t count for shit, and yet Katsudon seems to have convinced himself that if he fucks it up, Viktor’s leaving him. He’s such a mess.
Meanwhile, Yuuko (who’s come to drive them to the rink) and Mari (who can’t even be bothered to watch them skate) are treating Katsudon’s whole emotional crisis like a spectator event of its own. They’re awful people, really. It’s probably why Ed likes them.
Though…sometimes Ed wonders if Mari doesn’t low-key hate her brother. Like, she definitely loves him, but, well. It can be complicated with family.
Mari is stuck here in this small, possibly dying town, and looking to inherit a small, possibly dying family business. She doesn’t seem to hate her life, but she doesn’t seem to love it, either. Meanwhile, her brother is internationally famous for doing the thing he loves best, and now his goddamn idol and childhood crush has followed him home to coach him and dote on him and be with him forever. And Katsudon isn’t even enjoying it right.
Honestly, it’d be weirder if she didn’t hate him a little.
As soon as they get to the rink, Ed immediately informs the nearest reporter that he’s going to crush Yuuri because there only needs to be one of them. The reporter seems delighted, which is all anyone needs to know about reporters. But Ed said it mostly because he’s curious what Katsudon’s reaction will be.
There isn’t one. Not a flicker of an eyelash. Katsudon doesn’t have a single fuck to give about Ed’s threats, and Ed has been known to terrify actual hardened criminals. This from the guy who goes off into spirals of insecurity if a stranger says something bad about his hair.
Katsuki Yuuri is a goddamn weirdo, and Ed approves.
* * *
Katsudon kicks Ed’s ass all over the ice (metaphorically). Ed would be more upset about it if Katsudon weren’t so obviously, ridiculously relieved and happy. It’s impossible to begrudge him anything when you’re looking at his stupid, charming, delighted face. Ed will just have to destroy him later, when he’s feeling more secure in himself.
Viktor’s going to be impossible all goddamn season, Ed can tell.
Anyway, it was a learning experience, and Ed’s glad he came to Japan. He’s glad he got to hang out with Katsudon and family, too, because they’re pretty cool, and he’ll have to bring Al around to visit them sometime.
That said, it’s past time for him to go. Katsudon and Viktor are getting handsy now, and Ed’s not watching that shit. Not during the awkward courtship phase, anyway.
Why is it that settled couples being cuddly is adorable, but brand new, not-quite-couples being cuddly is uncomfortable as hell to be around? Ed doesn’t know, but he doesn’t want to see these bastards again in person until they’re basically married.
With that in mind, he starts packing his stuff as soon as they get back to Yutopia. Al booked him a flight for odd-ungodly tomorrow morning, and since it’s out of Fukuoka, he feels like he might as well leave Hasetsu tonight and just sleep in the airport.
Of course Katsudon manages to walk in just as Ed’s packing up his knives, which is uncomfortable for everyone. And Ed has to go and make it more uncomfortable by freezing like a prey animal and staring up at Yuuri in shock. He probably looks like a lemur in a spotlight. Not that Yuuri looks much better.
So, hey, this is awkward. What do you say in a situation like this? I’m sorry I brought a small arsenal into your country where it’s totally illegal, but I had to because I can’t sleep without at least five weapons in grabbing distance? Ed feels like that’s the kind of comment that makes things more awkward, not less.
Life would be so much easier if he still had alchemy. If he had alchemy, he wouldn’t bother to carry weapons. He wouldn’t need to, because he could make weapons out of anything. God, he misses that. He even misses living in a place where people thought being heavily armed at all times was normal, though he gets that that’s a fucked up thing to miss.
“Are you…okay to get those through customs?” Katsudon asks eventually, looking very lost and disturbed, but also concerned about Ed’s welfare. And not afraid at all.
He makes no sense.
“Yes,” Ed tells him, deciding less is more in this kind of explanation. I learned from the very best smugglers would not make this less weird.
“Well…if you’re sure.” Katsudon hesitates, looking all constipated. Ed waits for the questions about why the hell he has a mini-arsenal. But no, of course not, because he’s dealing with Katsudon, who instead blurts out, “Are you safe?”
“What?”
“I mean…you wouldn’t have all that if you didn’t need it, would you? And, um. Should you be traveling alone? Because it seems like…you won’t have those on the plane, and that might not be a good idea. If someone’s. After you.”
It takes Ed a minute, but he eventually manages to recall that Yuuri spent the last five years living in Detroit. Ed’s heard things about Detroit. Given what he’s heard, he’s probably not the only person Katsudon knows who owns an arsenal. (Maybe Ed should move to Detroit.)
Okay, that actually makes sense. For once, Katsudon makes sense. Ed lets out a relieved breath, because this makes life a lot easier. He can tell the truth, for one thing.
“I’m fine,” he reassures Yuuri. “I was definitely not safe for a while, but things are fine now. It’s just that I got into a lot of habits back then, and I haven’t managed to shake them.”
Katsudon nods in sympathy. Ed’s not sure how he feels about having Mr. Anxiety totally get him, but he should probably just count his blessings. This could have gone way worse.
“Does…Viktor know you have all this?” Katsudon asks.
Case in point: what if Viktor had caught him? The screaming would have been endless. “No, because like I said, I try not to shock the guy to death. And by the way, it’s cracking me up how much more chill you’re being about this than he would be.”
Yuuri gives a guilty little smirk. “Viktor is very…ah. Set in his ways?”
…Has Katsudon been fucking with Viktor on purpose this whole time? No. No way. That would be cruel, and whatever else is wrong with Katsudon, he would never be deliberately cruel. But apparently he notices more than Ed’s been giving him credit for, at least when it comes to Viktor. Interesting.
Maybe these two will get themselves sorted out faster than Ed thought.
“So…knives and, and physics books?” Katsudon points out leadingly. “And skates.”
“Skates are knives, Katsudon.”
“…Right. And the physics books?”
“We all gotta plan for the future sometime. Also, skating? Not exactly an intellectual challenge. If I weren’t doing something on the side, I’d be bored out of my mind. Hey, don’t make that face. You know I’m right, college boy.”
“Is this what you were doing when you’d sneak away and hide in your room after dinner?” Katsudon asks, light dawning. “You were…studying physics?”
“And sometimes chemistry,” Ed agrees. “And I was not sneaking or hiding, asshole. You never asked.”
Before Katsudon can think of any follow-up questions, Ed finishes packing his incriminating shit away, hoists his incriminating case onto his shoulder, and pulls his less-incriminating suitcase after him.
“Okay,” he says. “I’m out. See you in a few months. Try to keep Viktor from making an ass of himself on TV.”
Katsudon makes a dubious face at him. “Try not to get arrested.”
Ed shrugs agreement. He feels like his job is a lot easier than Katsudon’s, but fine.
* * *
Mila pounces on Ed the second she learns he’s back. And in what ought to be the safety of his room, too. Tragically, Al won’t be back from his latest physics conference for two more days, so there’s no one around to protect him.
“How was Japan?” Mila asks, grinning her scariest grin. Which is pretty damn scary, Ed has to say.
“It was nice enough that we’re never getting Viktor back,” he informs her.
“I’m a little surprised you came back,” she admits. “Did you make friends with everybody in town?”
“I was there for less than a month.”
“That’s never stopped you before, Yura.”
“I met a few people. I wasn’t staying there any longer, though. You haven’t seen uncomfortable until you’ve seen Viktor trying to woo somebody who doesn’t believe he’s being wooed. It’s so stupid, Mila. Worse than Georgi.”
“No one and nothing is worse than Georgi,” Mila informs him severely.
Ed has to concede that this is true. “Okay, but…as bad as Georgi.”
“So who was your favorite person there?” Mila asks, flopping comfortably down on Ed’s bed like she owns the damn place.
“Yuuko,” Ed tells her, kicking his less incriminating suitcase under his bed and hiding the more incriminating one behind the false back wall of his closet. “She and her husband manage the rink Katsudon skates at. They have triplet girls, and they named them all after jumps.”
Mila sits up, blinking. “Jumps.”
“Yeah. Axle, Lutz, Loop.”
“Wow. Um, why?”
“Because Yuuko just doesn’t give a fuck, that’s why. She’s awesome. Her husband and kids are pretty great, too. And Katsudon’s sister! She’s so mean; you’d like her a lot.”
“You’re gushing and it’s weird,” Mila points out, now sprawled on her front and kicking her feet idly in the air.
“I gush sometimes!” Ed insists defensively.
“Yeah, about your brother and Otabek,” Mila tells him. “That was it. But now it’s suddenly half the population of Hasetsu, too, out of nowhere.”
“I gush about you too. I just don’t do it to your face because you’d make a scene.”
“Yuraaa!” Mila cries, lunging off the bed to tackle Ed in a hug, thereby proving his point. “I knew you loved me!”
“Yeah, yeah, now stop squashing me, woman.”
“So what’s the love of Viktor’s life like?” Mila interrogates mercilessly. “I’ve seen him skate, and I’ve seen him drunk, and seeing as those two states are nothing like each other, I don’t even know where to start with him.”
“He’s a mess,” Ed informs her. “A huge mess. For unknown reasons, he thinks he’s ugly, talentless garbage, and the only times he doesn’t freak out and sabotage himself are when he’s motivated by spite. He’s meek and shy except for when he’s a sarcastic little shit. Also he reacts to fear in very weird and probably unhealthy ways.”
Mila leans back from the hug the better to stare at Ed incredulously. “Wow, you love this guy. Does Viktor know he has competition?”
“Viktor has no competition,” Ed insists. “I like Katsudon fine, but he makes me so tired, Mila. So goddamn tired. You go, ‘Hey, Katsudon, good skate,’ and he freaks the fuck out and decides that you’re lying and you secretly hate him. What the hell? When I tell people they’re awesome, I want them to shut the fuck up and accept that they’re awesome. I’m not wasting my breath telling them they’re awesome and then arguing about it.”
“It’s true that you’re not a naturally affirming person,” Mila agrees, absently resting her head on top of Ed’s to torment him with her superior height.
“Anyway, I wish him and Viktor all the joy of each other,” Ed grumbles. “They’re both huge messes of human beings. Your turn. Catch me up on rink news. How bad did Yakov blow a gasket when he figured out I’d lied about coming home after a week?”
Mila laughs, hugs him tighter, and tells him all the gossip worth knowing.
* * *
Yakov has no idea what Yuuri Katsuki (the single greatest impact on Russian figure skating in decades) did to Yuri. He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. He is, quite simply, grateful. And gratitude is not something he’d ever expected to feel toward Katsuki.
Yet here they are—in a strange, beautiful place where the desire to beat Katsuki has actually motivated Yuri to care more about skating than about science, travel, engaging in vigilante justice, or whatever the hell else he’s been doing with his life prior to this. Yakov is honestly ready to send Katsuki a fruit basket. He’s never sent anyone a fruit basket. Ever. In his life. That’s how maddening training Yuri has been up until now.
The one thing Katsuki hasn’t managed to improve is Yuri’s deep-seated hatred of male authority figures who aren’t his grandfather. (Yakov would like to have a chat with Yuri’s mysteriously absent father one day. A long, serious chat.) But this is fine. If Yuri is willing to work, then Yakov is willing to help him avoid all male authority figures, including himself. If that’s what it takes.
Lilia’s always enjoyed the more crazed students, anyway.
This does not, however, mean that Yakov is ready to forgive Vitya. For retiring? There’s nothing to forgive. Everyone retires, and Vitya is justifiably burnt out. No one can say he hasn’t achieved enough, sacrificed enough. For running off to another country without consulting his coach? A bit more difficult to forgive, but not impossible, particularly since Yuri has spent years wearing Yakov down on this topic. Though it’s also true that Yuri is a feral thing who trusts no one but his brother, while Vitya is practically family, and being disregarded this way hurts with Vitya in a way it never has with Yuri. Still, Yakov is a grown man, and he’ll get over it.
But for potentially ruining a promising skater’s career by dragging him into Vitya’s flamboyant journey of self-discovery? That, Yakov thinks he might not ever forgive. Taking reckless risks with one’s own future is a choice, even if it is a poor one. Taking reckless risks with someone else’s future is a sin.
Over the course of his career, Vitya has exasperated, infuriated, and even enraged Yakov, but he’s never disappointed him before. It is surprisingly painful.
* * *
“Where are we going, Brother?” Al asks curiously, because wherever Ed’s leading him, it’s not the skaters’ dorms.
“So Yakov shunted me off onto this ballet lady named Lilia for coaching. I guess I pissed him off for the last time. Anyway, she forced me to move into her place.”
When Al arrived in St Petersburg, Ed’s first comment was, Hey, Al, was the conference stupid? It emphatically was not what it should have been, i.e., I’ve recently been dragged off by a strange woman and forced to live in her house. But this is Ed, so Al’s hopes of civilized behavior were never very high.
“Lilia…?”
“Baranovskaya.”
Al closes his eyes, pained. “Lilia Baranovskaya, the world-famous ballerina and choreographer?” Who Ed just referred to as ballet lady, oh God.
“Sure,” Ed agrees absently, tugging at Al’s suitcase as soon as they get inside the outrageously nice house that Lilia Baranovskaya lives in.
“Do you like her, Brother?” Al asks, relinquishing his luggage to Ed with a sigh of relief. Ed gleefully drags it off to his room like he’s gotten away with something. It’s a really nice room, too.
Ed puts off answering the question for a long time, busying himself with unpacking and organizing Al’s stuff, which Al takes to mean yes, even before Ed says, “She reminds me of Teacher. Like a lot. I mean, she hasn’t chucked me bodily across the room yet, but…she might.”
Al stares at Ed in wide-eyed sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Brother.”
Ed stares back, traumatized. “I’ll…I’ll be okay. I mean, probably. I mean, we lived through Teacher, right? She can’t be as scary as Teacher. She can’t. Can she?”
“She’s never going to throw a knife at you and then yell at you about your reflexes,” Al points out encouragingly. “That’s illegal here.”
“Right?!” Ed agrees, encouraged. “And she can’t transmute me into the ground up to my neck and then leave me there for an hour.”
“She can’t transmute a spike and stab at you with it!”
“Or make me cook dinner while also making me dodge rocks she’s throwing at me.”
“Or leave you on a deserted island for a month with nothing but a knife!”
They beam at each other happily. Life on this planet is so soft, it’s amazing.
Of course, it only takes a few seconds for Ed to start looking worried and unhappy, because that’s just how Al’s brother is these days.
“We’re super-weak now, aren’t we, Al? Teacher would kick our asses to the moon.”
“Teacher would murder us the second she figured out we’d performed human transmutation,” Al points out, because that is just a fact.
“Yeah.” Ed shudders. “Yeah, she would. But even if she didn’t, how long would we last in a spar with her? You’re all academic now, and I’m only good for gliding around on ice, of all the stupid things.”
“It’s not stupid, Ed,” Al corrects him severely.
“No, it’s stupid,” Ed insists. “I know stupid when I see it.”
Al rolls his eyes and struggles against the urge to smother his brother with a pillow. “Why do you think that?”
“Because it’s making me weak, and that means I can’t protect us anymore. You don’t condition your body the same way for fighting and skating, so the better I get at skating, the worse I get at fighting. I’m exchanging safety for the ability to scoot around on the ice in a way that looks pretty. Explain to me how that’s not stupid.”
“You’re making money at it,” Al explains. “And money is power. And it also provides access to research materials.”
Ed blinks at him. “Oh.”
Al’s brother is a disaster. “So when do I get to meet Lilia Baranovskaya?”
“Not today. She and Yakov are out for dinner, so you won’t see them ‘til breakfast. You’d think dinner out would be romantic, but not the way they do it. I think they just need a weekly break from my presence so they can bitch about me in private.”
At least Ed is somewhat self-aware. “In that case, cook me dinner,” Al orders firmly.
“Bossy,” Ed grumbles, but obediently wanders off to Lilia Baranovskaya’s outrageously nice kitchen to cook dinner. Al knows it’s wrong to take advantage of Ed’s trauma about that time Al lost his body for a few hours and then they didn’t see each other for a year and Ed thought he was gone forever, but Ed’s a good cook (thanks, Teacher), and it’s too easy.
While Ed crashes around in the beautiful kitchen, Al takes the opportunity to shamelessly investigate Ed’s room. (If Ed would just be honest about his feelings, Al wouldn’t have to stoop to this. But as it stands, Ed barely understands his own feelings, so here they are.)
He finds all the usual nonsense. Extensive physics notes and alchemy theory. Angry, half-written letters to Viktor and Katsuki, because Ed still sometimes writes letters out on paper before converting them to email or text. What amounts to a list of interrogation questions for various people—Otabek, Mila, Lilia Baranovskaya, wow. The interrogation list is even about skating, for a change.
In fact…there’s a lot more skating happening in the detritus of Ed’s life than Al is used to. It’s kind of everywhere. Even the margins of Ed’s physics notes are full of sketches and equations having to do with force, momentum, rotational speed, angular velocity. It takes Al a minute, but he eventually works out that Ed’s trying to math his way through a quad axle. Absentmindedly, when he should be focused on other things. Ed is, in short, obsessing. Over skating.
Al smiles, relieved. It’s about time Ed stopped being miserable.
* * *
The next morning Al meets Lilia Baranovskaya, and Ed’s right. She is like Teacher to an alarming degree.
Happily, Al’s going back to Moscow in two weeks. As for Ed…well. Ed’s on his own.
He’ll be fine. He’s a strong person.
Chapter 3
Enjoy! :)
“You’re coming with us to Yuuri’s house, Yura?” Viktor asks Ed, curious, when it becomes obvious that he has no plans to split off and go anywhere else.
“Yeah. Because I’m staying at Katsuki’s place. Why?”
Viktor eyeballs him. It’s irritating. “I’m not sure they have room for you.”
“Unlike some people, I’m capable of booking a room in advance,” Ed says scornfully. “So I have a room—an actual room—of my own. Thanks.”
“You mean Alyosha booked you a room,” Viktor corrects, smug asshole that he is.
“Shut up forever,” Ed instructs him, choosing to ignore Katsuki, who’s sneaky-laughing at them both. Katsuki’s really eased up over the course of the afternoon. Ed’s glad. He didn’t want to make the guy miserable in his own house. It wouldn’t be right.
They arrive at the inn, and the entire Katsuki family persists in being as superhumanly welcoming and friendly as they were when Ed first got there. Even the sister, Mari, who Ed had pinned all his hopes on, shows up to serve dinner and immediately decides he looks fun and interesting. She does interrogate him a little, but in a friendly way, and in Japanese, which is nice because it means Viktor can’t chime in with his opinions.
“What’s your name, anyway?” Mari asks, after she’s finished demanding to know how much weight he can bench press, why he speaks Japanese, and why he decided to come here to train. (She responded favorably to, ‘I had to after your brother seduced Viktor into coming here. Viktor owes me choreography.’ Katsuki, on the other hand, did not respond well to that at all. He’s still hiding under the table with Makka and making weird noises about it, in fact.)
“I’m Yuri Plisetsky,” he tells Mari.
“Well, we can’t call you that,” she decides. “It’s confusing.”
“Call me Ed,” Ed suggests, a little terrified of where this is going. “It’s the name of my favorite physicist.”
It’s even true. Ed is his own favorite physicist.
Unfortunately, it turns out that Japanese people have trouble saying Ed, which he should’ve known, since the terminal d appears nowhere in their syllabary. And it turns out that Mari calls all the shots in this house, which he also should’ve known, because she is basically the exact same person as Granny Pinako, only younger.
He’s getting called Yurio. He doesn’t have to like it, but apparently he has to live with it.
* * *
Yuuri would really like to know why Yurio is so determined to joke about him seducing Viktor. It’s mortifying. If there’s any seduction going on here, it is absolutely the other way around.
Except that that can’t really be happening either, can it? Why would Viktor want to seduce someone like Yuuri? No, it’s too ridiculous. Maybe Russians are just a really tactile people. Except that Yurio doesn’t seem to be. Maybe Viktor is just really tactile. Anyway, whatever is going on, Yuuri desperately wishes that Yurio would stop talking about it casually and in public. Or at all.
Yurio doesn’t care what would be good for Yuuri’s sanity, though. In fact, he seems determined to be baffling at every turn.
“Give me that,” Yurio snaps after dinner, snatching a tray of dirty dishes from Mari and whisking them off to the kitchen. “You work too hard. And if your lazy-ass brother can’t be bothered to help, I’ll do it. And so will Viktor, won’t you, you free-loading bastard?”
“I am actually paying for my room,” Viktor points out, smiling faintly. “And I’m also coaching Yuuri. But I’ll certainly help if you like!”
“No,” Yuuri insists. “You don’t have to—”
“Yes, he does,” Yurio growls from the direction of the kitchen. “He’s upending your entire life here, Katsuki, and mooching off your parents to boot. The very least you should do is make him work for it. Equivalent exchange.”
“…Thank you for your support, Yurio,” Viktor says distantly, looking a little strained.
“I like him,” Mari declares. “I think I like him better than you, Yuuri.”
Yuuri sighs, glad she at least had the decency to say that in Japanese. “Thanks, my loving big sister.”
“Viktor, get your ass in here and start washing dishes,” Yurio demands.
“…But we have a dishwasher?” Yuuri is honestly so confused right now.
“Then he can get his ass in here and put dishes in the dishwasher,” Yurio, who apparently has excellent hearing, shouts back.
Viktor trails into the kitchen looking bemused, and Yurio continues to shout at him and boss him around, and they’re just…so obviously family to each other. It’s only natural that Viktor would choreograph routines for Yurio, who is his little brother, or near enough. And they both fit here so well, entertaining Yuuri’s family, helping Mari out, and it’s just…
If there’s anyone who doesn’t belong here, it’s Yuuri.
He listens to the complaints and nagging and laughter from the kitchen, and the thought that he’s unneeded and unwanted builds and builds until he has to leave the house to skate before he has a meltdown in front of everyone.
Because that would really make everyone believe he was worth having around.
* * *
By the next morning, Yuuri is feeling more calm and optimistic about things in general—after all, both Viktor and Yurio came here, didn’t they? Viktor must believe in his skating at least a little, and even Yurio thinks Yuuri has something to teach him about ‘skating pretty.’ So he’s going to be calm. He’s not going to brood over the worst possible interpretation of every single thing. He’s not.
And it’s easier to stick to that than he thought it would be, because Yurio is nothing if not a huge distraction.
Just for a start, on the run to the rink, it quickly becomes apparent that Yurio knows more people in Hasetsu than Yuuri does.
Yuuri grew up in this town. It is his hometown. Yurio has been here for something shy of two days.
“Ohayou, Tanaka-san!” Yurio calls to yet another man Yuuri doesn’t recognize. “Okusan wa genki?”
Yuuri makes the effort to catch up with Viktor. “Why does Yurio know more people in my hometown than I do?” he gasps.
Viktor gives him a serious, sidelong look. “Because he always knows everyone, Yuuri. It is an evil magic he has. You could also ask why he speaks Japanese, because I don’t know that either, and can’t think of a single reason why he should. He’s terrifying!”
Viktor seems oddly pleased with how terrifying Yurio is. Or maybe he’s just pleased to find somebody to be terrified with him.
* * *
Viktor can’t decide whether it’s a relief to have Yurio here, or a disaster. If this trip had gone anything close to the way Viktor had hoped, Yurio would certainly have been a disaster—but Viktor’s carefully planned wooing of Yuuri through nudity and gorgeous choreography had thoroughly run aground even before Yurio arrived, so maybe it’s lucky he’s here. Maybe he’ll provide Yuuri with a distraction and a chance to calm down, or…whatever it is that Yuuri needs. Because it’s obvious that Viktor’s misunderstood something.
He’s currently trying to convince himself that Yuuri is just cripplingly shy, incredible though that seems, given what the man is like when he’s drunk. He doesn’t want to think that all Yuuri really wants from him is coaching—not that it’s not flattering that he wants Viktor to coach him! That’s very flattering. It’s just that Viktor had been sure there was more to it. Viktor’s certainly never danced with any of his coaches like that. (Dear God, no.)
And it doesn’t feel like Yuuri is playing with him, despite initial suspicions in that direction. Viktor’s had more than his fair share of being played with, and he’s almost completely confident that the problem is just that Yuuri is shy when sober. Very nearly confident. Either that, or Yuuri’s decided a relationship with Viktor would be a mistake, and is trying to distance himself, in which case Viktor either needs to give up on the whole idea, or else try to win Yuuri back. But since he has no idea which of these many possibilities might be the real issue, he has no idea what to do.
Maybe Yurio is a good distraction for Viktor, too.
(He does miss drunk Yuuri sometimes. He misses him so much that he feels guilty about it. If he’s proposing to be serious about Yuuri, he needs to love him in every mood, not just the mood most flattering to Viktor.)
“Have either of you ever thought about love?” Viktor asks when they arrive at the rink, and is unsurprised when Yuuri shakes his head. Disappointed, but unsurprised.
Yurio’s dangerously narrowed eyes and angry silence are a surprise, however. A slightly frightening surprise.
Viktor decides to firmly ignore that reaction for now and move right along. He explains about the two arrangements of On Love, then plays them for his two Yuris. He even encourages feedback. He’s not so bad at this coaching thing after all! At least, he hopes he’s not. He’s not sure he’d be able to live with himself if his coaching disappointed Yuuri—the very first person who has ever believed Viktor capable of anything other than skating. This is doubly true if coaching turns out to be all Yuuri wants from him.
“Well, I’m obviously not doing Eros,” Yurio announces grumpily, interrupting Viktor’s increasingly troubled thoughts. “So I guess I’m stuck with the other one.”
“Why do you say that?” Viktor asks, intrigued. He’d rather been expecting Yurio to insist on Eros.
Yurio, however, is staring at him like he’s an idiot. “Because I’m an actual child,” he says slowly and carefully. “It would be weird.”
Yuuri has to turn away and cover his mouth to hide laughter. Viktor wishes he could do the same, but he can’t, because Yurio’s laser eyes are still on him.
“As it happens, I agree,” he confirms hastily. “You will perform Agape, and Yuuri will perform Eros!”
Yuuri has now stopped laughing in favor of looking completely horrified. Viktor is…confused by that. If there’s one thing all three of them know Yuuri excels at, it’s Eros. It is true that he’s never done anything like it in competition before (which is a terrible waste, frankly), but since he knows perfectly well that he can, where’s the problem?
He’s a very difficult person to understand, is Katsuki Yuuri.
And maybe it’s the confusion and frustration and general sense of despair that causes Viktor to announce that if his Yuris don’t skate up to his standards, he won’t coach either one of them.
He’s almost sure he doesn’t really mean it, and he certainly didn’t mean to make Yuuri look so worried and pale. But it’s clearly a motivating threat, so he’s not backing down on it.
(Yurio, of course, immediately declares that he wouldn’t let Viktor be his official coach if they were the last two people on Earth, so that puts Viktor right in his place.)
* * *
Ed’s not sure choreography is worth all this.
Don’t get him wrong—it’s damn good choreography, even if Ed’s not a fan of the music. He can tell, too, that Viktor modified his original idea pretty heavily to fit Ed’s body type better—Ed doesn’t have Viktor’s (or even Katsuki’s) long, elegant lines. He’s more of a tank. Different things look good for tanks than for these freakishly tall, skinny types, and Ed’s amazed that Viktor took that into account, considering he’s never choreographed for anybody else before.
So that’s the one hand: he’s impressed all over again with Viktor’s skating genius.
But then there’s the other hand: the hand where Viktor continues to be a giant, embarrassing disaster when it comes to anything other than skating. And Katsuki is no better. Katsuki may be worse.
The only reason Ed hasn’t run off screaming is because of Katsuki’s childhood friend, Yuuko, who is just. Cool. Seriously, the coolest person in Hasetsu. (Except maybe for Katsuki’s ballet teacher, Minako. She’s extremely cool, but she also seems like the person most likely to kill Ed for interrupting Katsuki and Viktor’s inept seduction of each other, so he’s trying to steer clear of her.)
Yuuko’s only flaw is that she’s weirdly obsessed with Viktor’s skating, but lots of people suffer from that affliction. Even Ed suffers from it a little. She’s maybe even obsessed with the idea of Viktor, but she’s not obsessed with Viktor himself, and that’s all Ed asks. God knows Katsuki is doing enough of that for everybody.
So yeah, given the way things stand, Ed should’ve known better than to be in the rink when Viktor first demonstrated the sexy program he made up special for Katsuki. And yet he has no choice. He has to be here because they’re practicing after this. Some time. Eventually. He hopes.
But for the moment, here they are: Viktor molesting Katsuki’s face while Yuuko watches with shiny eyes and picks names for their future children, with Ed off to the side seriously wondering if they’re ever going to get to work.
Ed is the most professionally behaved person in this rink right now. That is damning.
* * *
Al’s noticed, over the years, that Ed is very weird about phone calls. He doesn’t like them, and he isn’t good at them, either. If Al puts him on the phone with somebody when he’s in a ranting mood, he’ll at least rant for the length of a normal call, but the instant he’s finished, he abruptly hangs up. If he has nothing to rant about, he generally manages to mutter about five awkward sentences before hanging up.
It’s doubly weird because Ed’s perfectly happy to text at all times. He’s such a strange person.
What all this means is that Al is deeply alarmed when he notices an incoming call from Ed. Surely something terrible has happened—hospitals, arrests, freak encounters with the Gate.
But no, it turns out that Ed’s just being ridiculous.
“Hey, Al,” Ed begins absently. “So Viktor is stupid in love with Katsuki, and it’s a huge pain in my ass.” Al can already tell this call is going to be memorable. “And Katsuki doesn’t seem to get that, so he’s accidentally trampling on Viktor’s feelings all over the place, and Viktor’s smiling and pretending to be fine and then going off and getting shitfaced drunk, same as when Yakov makes him sad. He cares about Katsuki to a Yakov degree. So basically, his ass is never coming back to Russia, and I need to squeeze all the choreography I can get out of him right now. So I’ll be staying a little longer than I thought. We’re doing a whole sexual frustration ice show or something. But then I’m out. I don’t think I can stand to stick around long enough for him to choreograph my free skate—the second-hand embarrassment is too strong.”
“Why don’t you just tell Yuuri that Viktor’s in love with him, brother?” Al asks, amused. “Why doesn’t Viktor tell him?”
“Viktor can’t communicate like a person, you know that,” Ed sighs. “And I can’t tell Katsuki because he’d never believe me. There’s a chance he wouldn’t even believe Viktor, because he is that kind of mess. No, it’s their problem, and they can figure it out on their own. Preferably without my having to watch, because it’s painful. They’re supposed to be adults, for fuck’s sake.”
This is…a bit of a pot-calling-the-kettle-black situation. Then again, Ed does have a point—Viktor and Yuuri are adults. Surely they should be better at this than Ed, of all people. It’s sad that they’re not.
“Do you like your choreography, at least?” Al asks hopefully.
“Eh.” Long pause. “It’s okay, I guess. It’s about, you know. Agape.”
“…Okay. Well, you know a lot about agape.”
“Yeah, and where the fuck did it get me? Where the fuck did it get you?”
“It got me here alive, Brother,” Al insists firmly.
Ed grumbles incoherently. Only Ed could manage to resent his own generous capacity for love, speaking of people who are embarrassing disasters. Al wonders if Ed’s noticed yet that he’s come to love Viktor and Yuuri and, from the tone of his latest text messages, the entirety of the Nishigori and Katsuki families as well. Al’s guessing no. Not any more than he’s noticed that the prospect of serious competition from people he respects means he’s honestly enjoying figure skating for the very first time.
Not huge on self-awareness, Al’s brother. Just self-recrimination.
“Anyway, that’s all I wanted to tell you—I’ll be here an extra week. But you’re good? No lab explosions?”
“I’m fine, Brother. I’m not the one who blows things up in this family.”
“Hey!”
“And Grandpa’s fine, too.”
“Okay. That’s good. Later.”
“Talk to you later.”
And Ed hangs up.
Al sighs. Ed can make fun of Viktor for not being able to communicate all he wants, but he’s standing on very thin ice.
* * *
<Ed>
if viktor gets any more passive-aggressive about my disproportionate upper-body strength he’s going to disappear up his own asshole.
<Otabek>
…Colorful.
Every coach and trainer you’ve ever had has hated your disproportionate upper-body strength.
It makes you top-heavy.
<Ed>
yeah, well, all my other coaches just yelled at me about it
viktor’s smiling and giving me backhanded compliments
I’m going to use all that upper-body strength to throw his ass off a bridge
see how he likes that
<Otabek>
That seems a disproportionate response.
<Ed>
well then it’d match my DISPROPORTIONATE upper body strength
which it isn’t even, by the way
my arms are about as muscley as the rest of me
it’s just that figure skaters have little stick-figure t-rex arms
<Otabek>
I don’t have stick figure t-rex arms.
<Ed>
and that’s one of the many reasons we’re friends
<Otabek>
Really?
<Ed>
maybe
<Otabek>
Edward.
No one’s saying your arms need to be weak.
They just want you to be more balanced.
And flexible, too, while we’re talking about this.
<Ed>
I need the arms for fighting assholes
<Otabek>
You could fight fewer assholes.
Or none.
You could just not get into fights with people.
<Ed>
then I wouldn’t be me at all
<Otabek>
If you want to succeed in figure skating
you should probably define yourself as a skater
and not as a vigilante
or a physicist
or anything else, at least for now.
That can wait until you retire.
A bad fight could end your skating career instantly.
<Ed>
don’t be reasonable at me
you know I hate that
<Otabek>
I do know you hate that.
<Ed>
…now I feel like you’re fucking with me
<Otabek>
:)
<Ed>
Asshole.
* * *
Possibly as a fuck you to everybody bitching about his strength ratio, Ed is arm-wrestling Nishigori behind the counter at the rink again. They’ve done this many times. Every single time Nishigori loses, and every single time he refuses to believe he could possibly have lost. Ed’s pretty sure Yuuko is going to hurt something from laughing so hard.
Ed wins. Again. Nishigori throws a quiet but sincere fit. His wife and daughters all laugh at him.
This is what Ed would be giving up if he let his arms get weak.
Then again, Otabek’s right, as usual—nobody said his arms had to be weak. They said he had to be balanced…which, come to think of it, Teacher would like better, too. Balance makes you faster.
Ed’s core is already almost as solid as his arms—that’s important for fighting, too. But his legs…they’re fine for running and dodging and kicking, but probably not as outrageously badass as a skater’s really should be. So Ed needs to step up his leg training, huh? But while keeping every bit as flexible—or, if Otabek is right, even more flexible. Somehow.
Crap, he needs to ask Viktor for training advice.
No, fuck that, he is absolutely not asking Viktor for advice on anything other than choreography. He could never live that down. He would rather ask Katsuki—and how sad is that? So sad.
“Katsuki!” he shouts, abandoning the Nishigoris and storming into the warm up room. “I need advice!”
Yuuri looks up from stretching and blinks at Ed in adorable confusion. He needs to stop being adorable—it makes it impossible to resent him as much as Ed would like to. “…From me?”
“Yes, from you, asshole,” Ed snaps. “You’ve got ten years’ experience in skating on me. Do I look like I know what the hell I’m doing? Because I really, really don’t.”
Yuuri doesn’t seem to have any idea how to take that, but Yuuko laughs—because she’s followed Ed in here for the free entertainment. (Yuuko’s the best.)
Ed chooses to ignore all the bullshit and steamroll ahead—so he lays out his problem for Yuuri. And Yuuri, once he gets over the idea that Ed gets into fights on the regular (Which takes half an hour. Half. A goddamn. Hour.), is actually pretty useful. Very useful. Useful to the point where Ed’s gonna have to do something nice for him, because equivalent exchange.
Actually, he’s supposed to be teaching Yuuri to land a quad salchow, isn’t he? And he’s running out of time to do it in. Looks like now’s good, then.
What this all boils down to is three solid hours of Yuuri entirely changing Ed’s training routine, followed by hardcore and seemingly endless jump practice. Because Yuuri is a machine. Meanwhile, Ed’s whole body is gonna hurt for a month.
“Why would you come to me for help and not Viktor?” Yuuri asks timidly at the end of the day. Yuuko looks interested, too. And so do all three of the triplets, who ninja’d into the rink as soon as jump practice started. (Nishigori’s probably still nursing his wounded pride in the back office. Heh.)
“Because Viktor is useless,” Ed informs Yuuri. “You haven’t noticed yet, but you will. Good luck getting coached by that disaster.”
“Viktor is not a disaster,” Yuuri insists severely.
Ed should know better than to try to reason with the infatuated. “Yeah, okay.”
Yuuri makes a face at Ed that is honestly pretty scary. Ed beams. He knew Yuuri had it in him.
“What do you mean by that, Yurio?” Yuuko asks, interrupting the staring contest. “Viktor’s the most amazing skater in the world right now. I wouldn’t call that useless.”
Ed turns to face her and waves his hands, batting that idea away. “I don’t mean his skating is useless. I mean he’s useless at explaining shit to other people. Or maybe it’s just me. That could be. I don’t get him, he doesn’t get me—I can’t ask him for help on this. It wouldn’t do any good, and even if it did, I could never live with the shame.”
“…You asked him to choreograph a routine for you,” Yuuri points out.
“Yeah, well, he doesn’t have to explain choreography. He just has to show it to me. That’s different. You’re the one getting full-on coaching from him, and like I say, good luck.”
“…Unless I don’t skate well enough and he leaves,” Yuuri says sadly.
Ed rolls his eyes so hard it hurts a little. “He’s not leaving you, Katsuki.”
“I still don’t understand why he came here in the first place,” Yuuri admits, showing a lot of vulnerability by Katsuki standards. And to Ed of all people.
Ed likes to think of himself as unapproachable. Someday he’s gonna manage to get other people to agree with him, and hopefully to stop sidling up to him and dumping their insecurities all over him all the time.
“It’s because you’re pretty and Viktor’s stupid,” Ed explains. And, in the spirit of fairness, adds, “Also he was probably, you know. Depressed or whatever.”
Yuuri treats Ed to some judgmental side-eye. “Ha. I’m not pretty. And Viktor’s not—”
“Are you calling me a fucking liar?”
“What? No! I just meant—”
“Yuuri-kun,” Yuuko says in a weirdly threatening way, staring at Yuuri with the basilisk stare that only mothers are cool enough to use.
Yuuri apparently knows what the stare means, because he shifts uneasily and says, with deep resentment, “Thank you for calling me pretty.” With a strong implied addition of but I’m not actually pretty and you’re either a liar or a moron for saying so. Nice. “But Viktor’s not stupid. And he’s not—”
Oh, there it is. Yuuri just let himself actually think about it. Because if you’ve been paying any attention at all, you can’t look at the Viktor Nikiforov of the last couple years and say that he’s been even a little bit happy. Whether it’s textbook depression or not is debatable, but happy? Definitely not.
“That’s right,” Ed says, satisfied. “Don’t go thinking you’re the only giant mess in that relationship.”
“Yurio-kun,” Yuuko says, and now Ed’s getting the basilisk stare.
“What?!” he squawks, indignant. “What did I say? I just told him the truth!”
The triplets all snicker meanly at him. And here he thought they were friends.
“It may be true, but that doesn’t mean you needed to say it to him,” Yuuko chides, ignoring Yuuri’s yelped protest. “He’s very sensitive about Viktor. I know you know better than to poke at sensitive topics.”
“I don’t know anything,” Ed snaps waspishly. “I’m not even from this planet—how am I supposed to understand your alien ways?”
Yuuri frankly stares and Yuuko and the triplets laugh even harder. Because that’s what happens when you tell people the honest truth around here.
* * *
<Ed>
other yuri is getting called katsudon from here on out.
<Al>
Do I even want to know why?
<Ed>
because last night viktor asked him to think about what his eros was, right
for his program
but also because VIKTOR right now
and he’s like, I dunno, what is eros, I have lived my whole life for skating and have literally never thought about this.
<Al>
So basically he IS Viktor.
Viktor from two years ago.
<Ed>
…
…
…you’ve got a point.
<Al>
You’re not a lot better yourself, brother.
<Ed>
shut up. because you know what else I am?
FIFTEEN YEARS OLD
these assholes are meant to be adults
we talked about this
anyway. viktor’s like: go THINK about what your EROS is
because he wants katsudon to say ‘oh, it’s YOU viktor.’
obviously
<Al>
Obviously.
I’m guessing that’s not what Yuuri came up with, though.
<Ed>
you guess right
because katsudon thinks about it for like hours and then, eureka moment!
<Al>
Oh no.
<Ed>
he’s like: MY EROS IS KATSUDON.
<Al>
And katsudon is…?
<Ed>
it’s food, Al. it’s not even fancy food. it’s really good, but like
NOT A SEXY FOOD, AL
it’s like saying beef stew is my eros
<Al>
…Wow.
<Ed>
yeah. wow. this is viktor’s real life right now. he’s dying.
and it’s the best thing
that has ever happened to me
<Al>
Don’t be mean, brother.
<Ed>
you are totally laughing as hard as I am don’t pretend that you’re not
* * *
“I thought he was on social media, but he’s actually always texting, isn’t he?” Yuuri asks Viktor. He’s watching Yurio up in the stands, tapping rapidly away at his phone with a horrible little smirk on his face. Yuuri’s eyes are shining with curiosity, which is a particularly beautiful look on him. “Who’s he talking to?”
Yuuri is killing Viktor here, he really is, what with being gorgeous, talented, fascinating, and now sincerely interested in Viktor’s favorite people as well. And also with his flat refusal to acknowledge any of Viktor’s romantic overtures in any way. By now, Viktor’s also firmly decided that having Yurio here to watch it all play out with knowing, mocking eyes is making the experience even more unnecessarily painful. And Viktor had such hopes of Yurio’s ability to be a distraction! He feels betrayed.
“He talks to all sorts of people,” Viktor explains, dismissing his worries to brood over later, as usual. “He really does seem to know everyone. And not just know them—practically everyone he meets would be happy to punch him in the face, willing to die to defend him, or both, and in any case, they all seem to have a lot to say to him about it.”
In response, beautiful Yuuri actually makes eye contact with a smile, which is rewarding, reassuring. “Punch him in the face or die to defend him? Which one are you?” he asks, clearly amused.
Viktor blinks. “Me? Both. Absolutely both. At the same time. It’s confusing.”
Yuuri laughs. Yuuri is lovely when he laughs. He is going to be the death of Viktor.
“Most often, he talks to his brother, Alexei,” Viktor continues, since talking about Yurio seems to make Yuuri smile. Which is distressing in its own way, but Viktor’s willing to work with anything at this point.
“Really? I didn’t know he had a brother.”
“They’re very close,” Viktor explains. “Which is odd, because they are nothing alike. Alexei is a charming, quiet, polite boy, studious and humble. Also horrifyingly manipulative and a master class liar. He frightens me badly, Yuuri. I am terrified of that boy.”
Yuuri is laughing again. This is officially the most successful conversation they’ve ever had while Yuuri was sober. Blessings upon Yurio and his entire house.
“You said you were terrified of Yurio, too,” Yuuri points out, still smiling. “Though I guess that’s fair. I heard he once tried to kill Jean-Jacques Leroy during a practice session.”
“That is a gross exaggeration of the facts,” Viktor insists piously. “And while I am a bit terrified of Yurio, it’s as nothing compared to my fear of Alyosha. What you see is what you get with Yurio. If that…Jean-Jack?...had been paying any attention at all, he could’ve easily avoided the situation. It’s like taunting a tiger. What happens to you next can’t really be considered the tiger’s fault.”
“Ah. But what you see isn’t what you get with Yurio’s brother?”
“What you see is exactly what Alyosha wants you to see, and he’s been that way as long as I’ve known him. He was an especially unnerving twelve-year-old.”
Yuuri is looking directly into Viktor’s eyes now, something unusually calm and steady in his expression. “And how long have you been that way?” he asks, very quiet.
“What?” Viktor responds, more out of shock than lack of understanding, but it’s too much for Yuuri, who bolts out onto the ice, babbling something about jumps.
Viktor’s known all along that Yuuri is a fan. Despite his sudden, upsetting reluctance to let Viktor anywhere near him, he still does all the fan things—blushes when Viktor’s close, hesitates to contradict him, incorporates parts of Viktor’s programs into his own. But he’s also done some delightfully non-fannish things, of which this is only the latest.
It’s been a long time since someone saw through any part of Viktor’s mask and admired him anyway. In fact, Viktor’s not sure that has ever happened before.
Katsuki Yuuri. Always a surprise.
* * *
It’s a sad fact, but in a minute, Ed’s going to have to kill Viktor Nikiforov. All of Russia will mourn.
“Agape is a feeling. You can’t put it into precise words,” Viktor says, looking as vague and useless as he knows how—which is really goddamn vague and useless. “Do you really think of things in that much detail while you’re skating? You’re so strange, Yurio!”
As if Ed doesn’t know that Viktor choreographed Eros while blatantly obsessing over Katsuki Yuuri the entire frigging time, and no doubt in horrifying detail. He based it on their GPF dance, for God’s sake. It doesn’t get more specific than that.
Ed has a sneaking suspicion that Viktor choreographed Agape while obsessing over Katsuki too, but he’s trying not to think about that because it depresses him.
“You’re so full of shit,” Ed tells him. “Then give me vague words to describe this feeling you think I ought to be having.”
“Agape,” Viktor repeats in an agony of uselessness, waving his hands around. “Endless, unconditional love, free of expectation, hopeful, but also at peace with itself.”
“Yeah okay, great. Except that I don’t love like that!” Ed finally yells at Viktor’s stupid face. “I know what unconditional love is, asshole. I’m pretty sure I know better than you do. But this music is hopeful and sweet and innocent, and that’s bullshit. Love isn’t any of those things. Love is grim, desperate shit, it’s planting your feet and taking whatever comes and dealing with it, it’s being prepared to bleed and die to defend your loved ones. This springtime, fairytale crap—this is, I don’t know, falling in love, maybe. Back when you’ve still got hope, before life burns it out with acid.”
There is dead silence for a very long time, while Ed scowls indiscriminately around the rink. And then, proving once again why she’s his favorite person here, Yuuko says, “Well…he’s not wrong.”
Viktor, meanwhile, has that look he always gets whenever Ed’s childhood is shoved into his face. Like he really wants to scream and flee the building, but is forcing himself to stick around by enormous force of will. Ed sneers at him.
Katsudon, though, has to be just as weird and unpredictable as ever. “Yurio, I think you’re wrong about the music,” he says quietly. “I understand what you’re saying, and…the beginning could be hopeful, and maybe…naïve. But as it goes along, it becomes more…committed, maybe? Desperate? It’s how you hear it, I think. But the main point of it is just…abandoning yourself. To this feeling, this…um. Devotion? Like you’d leave behind every part of yourself and never look back, if it would make them happy. And there’s something beautiful in that.”
Fuck, is Katsudon—‘my Eros is katsudon’ Katsudon—explaining love songs to him now? This is ridiculous. And it doesn’t help that Viktor’s staring at Katsudon like…Ed doesn’t even know. Like he’d throw away every part of himself if he could just get Katsudon to make sense, maybe.
Katsudon is probably right about the music, too, which definitely makes everything more annoying.
“Okay, but the lyrics are sappy bullshit and you can’t take that from me,” Ed says firmly. Fores occultas his ass. You don’t open doors that hide things; Ed learned that the hard way. You leave them closed.
“…You speak Latin?” Viktor asks, sounding tired for some reason.
“No, I understand Latin,” Ed snaps, impatient with Viktor’s everything. “Only diehard nerds speak dead languages.” Ed and Al had to learn to read it, though, because it’s the language all the old alchemy books are in. Only after they went to the trouble of learning it did they discover that Earth alchemy was at best a proto-science and at worst blatant quackery. What a goddamn waste of time.
“Heaven forbid anyone should think of you as a diehard nerd,” Viktor murmurs.
Ed graciously chooses to ignore this comment. Which is more than can be said for Katsudon, who’s smirking. Ed considers knocking him down and sitting on him, see how he likes that. But no, he’s here to skate. No distractions!
“Fine,” he decides. “I’m skating this bastard like there’s something beautiful about willingly climbing onto a rack for your loved ones, and I’m doing it while ignoring every single word of the lyrics.”
“I look forward to it!” Viktor says, beaming like a guy who wants to walk out of this rink carrying his teeth in his hand.
Ed skates the damn thing anyway. He starts to skate it thinking about what he’d sacrifice for Al, but that’s…that’s not it, is it? Katsudon said if it would make them happy, so Ed focuses in on that. He stops thinking about what he’d give up for Al, and starts thinking about making Al happy. And Winry happy. Granny Pinako and Den, Teacher and Sig, Grandpa, Otabek, Mila, Yuuko and the triplets and Nishigori, the Katsukis, and even stupid Viktor and Katsudon. He thinks about them living their lives, peaceful, safe, and well—and then he thinks about how much he’d give for them to have that.
“Very good,” Viktor tells him afterward, sounding serious for once in his life. “Now we can move on to the next level.”
Ed’s not exactly pleased that Viktor liked the way he skated that, because emoting all over the ice is exhausting. Seriously, he just thought about the past more in a few minutes than he usually allows himself in a month. And Viktor wants him to do this shit every day? While also doing Katsudon’s new strength-training routine, so he can be physically wiped out as well as emotionally wiped out?
Ed’s gonna die.
* * *
Yurio is apparently too exhausted to argue about bathing with other people today, because he just follows Yuuri, zombie-like, into the onsen changing room without complaint.
Yuuri has a sudden insight into why public bathing might be an issue when Yurio drops his robe. For one thing, he has a huge tattoo on his back—a cross with a snake wrapped around it, wings to the sides and a crown on top, a bit like a medical symbol? Yuuri has no idea what that’s about, though he’s reasonably sure you can’t legally get a tattoo at Yurio’s age in Russia or anywhere else. Also, he is intensely glad that his parents don’t ban people with tattoos from the onsen the way so many places do, because he would not want to have that conversation with Yurio. God.
For another, more distressing thing, Yurio has…really a lot of scars. That would be alarming enough on its own, but everything else pales by comparison to the horrifying scar on his left leg. It looks like someone tried to hack the leg off just above the knee, which—surely that can’t be what happened, but that’s what it looks like.
But Yuuri shouldn’t be looking at all, and he has absolutely no business asking. Most scars are the result of something traumatic or embarrassing, and people almost never want to talk about them. So Yuuri’s not going to look, and he’s not going to ask.
So he doesn’t ask, and he doesn’t look. Not in the changing room, or as they clean off, or as they get into the onsen. It’s actually Yurio who breaks first.
“Oh my God,” Yurio groans, sinking low in the water. “I can hear your brain frying from here. I fucked up, okay? That’s why my leg’s a mess. I was a stupid, stupid kid, and I let myself believe that I could save my mother’s life without sacrificing anything, and I was just—I was wrong. It almost got me and my brother both killed right along with our mom, that’s how wrong I was. How arrogant. So fuck agape, you know?”
Yuuri now has a thousand questions and is too afraid to ask any of them. “I’m so sorry,” he says instead.
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry too, but that doesn’t fix anything. All you can do is get up and keep walking. So now you know, and that means I’m using the hell out of this bath, because it’s amazing.”
Get off your ass and keep walking, Yuuri remembers. Be grateful you still have two good legs to walk on. It’s the first thing Yurio ever said to him, and now he finally has context for it. He’s probably going to have nightmares.
“…I’m glad you like it,” Yuuri says hesitantly. “Does…does Viktor know about…?”
“My fuck ups in life? No. He knows about the mess I made of my body because we share a locker room, but he doesn’t know how any of it happened. Every time I tell him anything about life before Yakov he gets this look on his face like I just murdered Makkachin, so I try not to tell him anything. No one likes to see a grown man cry, Katsudon.”
“…I cry all the time.”
“That’s different. You’re not weird about it.”
Yuuri’s pretty sure he just got complimented. On crying. By Yurio.
Fortunately he’s not called upon to process the situation any more than that, because Viktor chooses this moment to barge in and draw all the attention to himself. It’s a relief.
* * *
It takes Ed an embarrassingly long time, but he eventually figures out that Katsudon isn’t actually a coward. He would feel worse about this, but Katsudon is a confusing hot mess, and figuring him out at all is an epic challenge. Ask anyone. Ask Viktor.
Katsudon, see, he’s afraid of everything. Some things more than others, yeah, but still, everything. Which means that walking out the front door, for Katsudon, is about as terrifying as charging an armed man bare-handed would be for Ed.
And still, Yuuri does it every morning.
Figuring this out leads to an uncomfortable few days in which Ed is kind of in awe of Katsudon, but then he watches the guy climb one of the hills outside town with reckless disregard for his own wellbeing, and he comes to another awful realization.
Most of the things Yuuri’s afraid of are irrational, and because he’s not stupid, he knows that. The kicker is that he can’t reliably tell the difference between a rational fear and an irrational one—they feel the same to him. So he mostly treats them the same. Like they’re all irrational. On a day when he’s feeling strong, he just pushes on past any and all fear and does whatever.
So basically what this means is that Katsudon is a maniac, and he can’t be trusted with his own safety. Which is awesome, because that’s just what Ed needs—another person to worry about.
“Pretty sure he’s more afraid of living than he is of dying,” Ed complains bitterly to Otabek. “What the hell is that about? Also his self-esteem is garbage. I just want to grab him by the throat and shake him until he believes me when I say he’s talented and hot and fun to be around.”
“I’m pretty sure grabbing him by the throat and shaking him wouldn’t help,” Otabek points out gently. He can be such a killjoy. “And you should be careful, telling him he’s hot. He might get the wrong idea, there.”
“No, it’s fine. He thought I was joking. Like mean joking. Why doesn’t he know he’s awesome? It’s so annoying, Beka. Thank God you and Al know you’re awesome and I don’t have to fight with you about it.”
“I’m glad to be of help in any way I can,” says Otabek. And he’s trolling, but he’s also serious. That’s why Otabek is the best. (Even if he did answer the phone with the words Are you dying? So Ed doesn’t call people on the phone much—so what? Otabek and Al are such drama queens.)
“Did you ever decide what went wrong with Katsuki at the GPF?” Otabek goes on.
“Oh, that. Yeah, his sister told me.” Ed might’ve written long, babbling text messages to Otabek about his curiosity concerning this particular mystery in the past, so he deserves an update. “So it turns out it was a lifelong dream of his to skate on the same ice as Viktor, or some such bullshit—but fine. It was a stupid dream, but it was his, so he buried himself under a mountain of pressure about it. Everything had to be perfect for Viktor. Viktor, of all people. So he was a stressed out mess on the edge of a meltdown anyway, and then his dog died between his short program and his free skate. And that was it. Catastrophic system failure.”
“…That’s awful,” Otabek allows.
“It is,” Ed agrees grudgingly. “And, I mean…his dog died, he fucked up his dream skate with the whole world and Viktor watching, he went off to cry about it in what he thought was privacy, and then I found him and yelled at him for crying. So I guess it’s not surprising that he got drunk off his ass at the banquet.”
“I would have,” Otabek allows. “Maybe you should yell at people less.”
“I should wait to yell at people until I have context,” Ed corrects. He does not appreciate Otabek’s long, exasperated sigh in response. So he hangs up on him.
He does feel bad, though. Like, he meant what he said to Katsudon back then—you gotta get up and keep walking no matter what the fuck happens, and that’s the truth. But maybe he could’ve given the guy a day to process before yelling at him. It’s not like Ed has a history of dealing gracefully with the loss of loved ones.
And that dog was seriously loved, to an extent Ed finds a little weird. It’s the same way Viktor is about Makkachin, and like…Ed’s not sure if it’s his farm-kid upbringing or what, but he doesn’t get it. Because when you get a dog? You already know you’re gonna outlive that dog, unless you’re super old when you get it, or unless you get hit by a train or something. So isn’t part of you preparing for that dog’s death from the moment you pick it up as a puppy?
If Ed had been around to see Den die, he would’ve been really sad, obviously. He’d have cried and helped bury him in a nice grave and all that. But he can’t see himself being shrine-in-the-house sad. That seems extreme. Although, fuck, what does he know about this planet? Maybe everybody here puts up shrines to their pets, and Amestris was just cold about it because humans were dying left, right, and center. Could be. (Although, truth: Ed valued Den a lot more than a lot of humans. So…)
That’s not Ed’s only issue with that shrine, either. It’s not even the most serious one. The most serious one is this: it makes him very uneasy that the picture of the dog also has Yuuri in it. Like, isn’t everybody featured in these shrines supposed to be dead? Ed thought they were supposed to be dead. And if they are, that would mean that during the five years Yuuri was gone, the Katsukis started, like. Treating him like he was dead. Or at least lost to them. That is…scary in ways Ed can’t coherently define.
It may be that he’s taking it too personally. Would Winry and Granny Pinako have a shrine with a picture of him and Al in it, if they did shrines?
(He knows they would.)
On the other hand, if the people and/or animals in the pictures are just ones you miss and want to send good wishes to, Yuuri’s presence in the picture is sweet, and not creepy at all.
Maybe Ed’s a coward, but he’s definitely too afraid to ask and make sure.
* * *
The less said about the costume debacle, the better. For one thing, Viktor’s drinking again (the hell did Katsudon say to him this time?). For another thing, Ed wasn’t allowed to choose anything badass as a costume, because Mari insisted it didn’t ‘suit his theme’ or whatever, so now he’s in some silvery white thing that looks blatantly ridiculous on him, in his humble opinion. And it’s a very humble opinion too, because for damn sure nobody else gives a shit about it, up to and including Ed’s very own traitorous brother.
And then there was the experience of watching Katsudon fanboy uncontrollably for ten minutes and then pick out the lingerie bondage costume for his sexy program. Which was. Special.
The good news is, in just a week, Ed’s free to run away back to Russia and leave this awkward shitshow behind him.
He’s not going to miss these idiots at all. He’s not. He doesn’t care what Al says.
* * *
They’re finally getting ready to skate their whole Sexual Frustration on Ice bullshit, and Yuuri’s freaking out. They haven’t even left the house yet, and Yuuri’s freaking out. Ed is almost impressed. Like, this is an ice show that doesn’t count for shit, and yet Katsudon seems to have convinced himself that if he fucks it up, Viktor’s leaving him. He’s such a mess.
Meanwhile, Yuuko (who’s come to drive them to the rink) and Mari (who can’t even be bothered to watch them skate) are treating Katsudon’s whole emotional crisis like a spectator event of its own. They’re awful people, really. It’s probably why Ed likes them.
Though…sometimes Ed wonders if Mari doesn’t low-key hate her brother. Like, she definitely loves him, but, well. It can be complicated with family.
Mari is stuck here in this small, possibly dying town, and looking to inherit a small, possibly dying family business. She doesn’t seem to hate her life, but she doesn’t seem to love it, either. Meanwhile, her brother is internationally famous for doing the thing he loves best, and now his goddamn idol and childhood crush has followed him home to coach him and dote on him and be with him forever. And Katsudon isn’t even enjoying it right.
Honestly, it’d be weirder if she didn’t hate him a little.
As soon as they get to the rink, Ed immediately informs the nearest reporter that he’s going to crush Yuuri because there only needs to be one of them. The reporter seems delighted, which is all anyone needs to know about reporters. But Ed said it mostly because he’s curious what Katsudon’s reaction will be.
There isn’t one. Not a flicker of an eyelash. Katsudon doesn’t have a single fuck to give about Ed’s threats, and Ed has been known to terrify actual hardened criminals. This from the guy who goes off into spirals of insecurity if a stranger says something bad about his hair.
Katsuki Yuuri is a goddamn weirdo, and Ed approves.
* * *
Katsudon kicks Ed’s ass all over the ice (metaphorically). Ed would be more upset about it if Katsudon weren’t so obviously, ridiculously relieved and happy. It’s impossible to begrudge him anything when you’re looking at his stupid, charming, delighted face. Ed will just have to destroy him later, when he’s feeling more secure in himself.
Viktor’s going to be impossible all goddamn season, Ed can tell.
Anyway, it was a learning experience, and Ed’s glad he came to Japan. He’s glad he got to hang out with Katsudon and family, too, because they’re pretty cool, and he’ll have to bring Al around to visit them sometime.
That said, it’s past time for him to go. Katsudon and Viktor are getting handsy now, and Ed’s not watching that shit. Not during the awkward courtship phase, anyway.
Why is it that settled couples being cuddly is adorable, but brand new, not-quite-couples being cuddly is uncomfortable as hell to be around? Ed doesn’t know, but he doesn’t want to see these bastards again in person until they’re basically married.
With that in mind, he starts packing his stuff as soon as they get back to Yutopia. Al booked him a flight for odd-ungodly tomorrow morning, and since it’s out of Fukuoka, he feels like he might as well leave Hasetsu tonight and just sleep in the airport.
Of course Katsudon manages to walk in just as Ed’s packing up his knives, which is uncomfortable for everyone. And Ed has to go and make it more uncomfortable by freezing like a prey animal and staring up at Yuuri in shock. He probably looks like a lemur in a spotlight. Not that Yuuri looks much better.
So, hey, this is awkward. What do you say in a situation like this? I’m sorry I brought a small arsenal into your country where it’s totally illegal, but I had to because I can’t sleep without at least five weapons in grabbing distance? Ed feels like that’s the kind of comment that makes things more awkward, not less.
Life would be so much easier if he still had alchemy. If he had alchemy, he wouldn’t bother to carry weapons. He wouldn’t need to, because he could make weapons out of anything. God, he misses that. He even misses living in a place where people thought being heavily armed at all times was normal, though he gets that that’s a fucked up thing to miss.
“Are you…okay to get those through customs?” Katsudon asks eventually, looking very lost and disturbed, but also concerned about Ed’s welfare. And not afraid at all.
He makes no sense.
“Yes,” Ed tells him, deciding less is more in this kind of explanation. I learned from the very best smugglers would not make this less weird.
“Well…if you’re sure.” Katsudon hesitates, looking all constipated. Ed waits for the questions about why the hell he has a mini-arsenal. But no, of course not, because he’s dealing with Katsudon, who instead blurts out, “Are you safe?”
“What?”
“I mean…you wouldn’t have all that if you didn’t need it, would you? And, um. Should you be traveling alone? Because it seems like…you won’t have those on the plane, and that might not be a good idea. If someone’s. After you.”
It takes Ed a minute, but he eventually manages to recall that Yuuri spent the last five years living in Detroit. Ed’s heard things about Detroit. Given what he’s heard, he’s probably not the only person Katsudon knows who owns an arsenal. (Maybe Ed should move to Detroit.)
Okay, that actually makes sense. For once, Katsudon makes sense. Ed lets out a relieved breath, because this makes life a lot easier. He can tell the truth, for one thing.
“I’m fine,” he reassures Yuuri. “I was definitely not safe for a while, but things are fine now. It’s just that I got into a lot of habits back then, and I haven’t managed to shake them.”
Katsudon nods in sympathy. Ed’s not sure how he feels about having Mr. Anxiety totally get him, but he should probably just count his blessings. This could have gone way worse.
“Does…Viktor know you have all this?” Katsudon asks.
Case in point: what if Viktor had caught him? The screaming would have been endless. “No, because like I said, I try not to shock the guy to death. And by the way, it’s cracking me up how much more chill you’re being about this than he would be.”
Yuuri gives a guilty little smirk. “Viktor is very…ah. Set in his ways?”
…Has Katsudon been fucking with Viktor on purpose this whole time? No. No way. That would be cruel, and whatever else is wrong with Katsudon, he would never be deliberately cruel. But apparently he notices more than Ed’s been giving him credit for, at least when it comes to Viktor. Interesting.
Maybe these two will get themselves sorted out faster than Ed thought.
“So…knives and, and physics books?” Katsudon points out leadingly. “And skates.”
“Skates are knives, Katsudon.”
“…Right. And the physics books?”
“We all gotta plan for the future sometime. Also, skating? Not exactly an intellectual challenge. If I weren’t doing something on the side, I’d be bored out of my mind. Hey, don’t make that face. You know I’m right, college boy.”
“Is this what you were doing when you’d sneak away and hide in your room after dinner?” Katsudon asks, light dawning. “You were…studying physics?”
“And sometimes chemistry,” Ed agrees. “And I was not sneaking or hiding, asshole. You never asked.”
Before Katsudon can think of any follow-up questions, Ed finishes packing his incriminating shit away, hoists his incriminating case onto his shoulder, and pulls his less-incriminating suitcase after him.
“Okay,” he says. “I’m out. See you in a few months. Try to keep Viktor from making an ass of himself on TV.”
Katsudon makes a dubious face at him. “Try not to get arrested.”
Ed shrugs agreement. He feels like his job is a lot easier than Katsudon’s, but fine.
* * *
Mila pounces on Ed the second she learns he’s back. And in what ought to be the safety of his room, too. Tragically, Al won’t be back from his latest physics conference for two more days, so there’s no one around to protect him.
“How was Japan?” Mila asks, grinning her scariest grin. Which is pretty damn scary, Ed has to say.
“It was nice enough that we’re never getting Viktor back,” he informs her.
“I’m a little surprised you came back,” she admits. “Did you make friends with everybody in town?”
“I was there for less than a month.”
“That’s never stopped you before, Yura.”
“I met a few people. I wasn’t staying there any longer, though. You haven’t seen uncomfortable until you’ve seen Viktor trying to woo somebody who doesn’t believe he’s being wooed. It’s so stupid, Mila. Worse than Georgi.”
“No one and nothing is worse than Georgi,” Mila informs him severely.
Ed has to concede that this is true. “Okay, but…as bad as Georgi.”
“So who was your favorite person there?” Mila asks, flopping comfortably down on Ed’s bed like she owns the damn place.
“Yuuko,” Ed tells her, kicking his less incriminating suitcase under his bed and hiding the more incriminating one behind the false back wall of his closet. “She and her husband manage the rink Katsudon skates at. They have triplet girls, and they named them all after jumps.”
Mila sits up, blinking. “Jumps.”
“Yeah. Axle, Lutz, Loop.”
“Wow. Um, why?”
“Because Yuuko just doesn’t give a fuck, that’s why. She’s awesome. Her husband and kids are pretty great, too. And Katsudon’s sister! She’s so mean; you’d like her a lot.”
“You’re gushing and it’s weird,” Mila points out, now sprawled on her front and kicking her feet idly in the air.
“I gush sometimes!” Ed insists defensively.
“Yeah, about your brother and Otabek,” Mila tells him. “That was it. But now it’s suddenly half the population of Hasetsu, too, out of nowhere.”
“I gush about you too. I just don’t do it to your face because you’d make a scene.”
“Yuraaa!” Mila cries, lunging off the bed to tackle Ed in a hug, thereby proving his point. “I knew you loved me!”
“Yeah, yeah, now stop squashing me, woman.”
“So what’s the love of Viktor’s life like?” Mila interrogates mercilessly. “I’ve seen him skate, and I’ve seen him drunk, and seeing as those two states are nothing like each other, I don’t even know where to start with him.”
“He’s a mess,” Ed informs her. “A huge mess. For unknown reasons, he thinks he’s ugly, talentless garbage, and the only times he doesn’t freak out and sabotage himself are when he’s motivated by spite. He’s meek and shy except for when he’s a sarcastic little shit. Also he reacts to fear in very weird and probably unhealthy ways.”
Mila leans back from the hug the better to stare at Ed incredulously. “Wow, you love this guy. Does Viktor know he has competition?”
“Viktor has no competition,” Ed insists. “I like Katsudon fine, but he makes me so tired, Mila. So goddamn tired. You go, ‘Hey, Katsudon, good skate,’ and he freaks the fuck out and decides that you’re lying and you secretly hate him. What the hell? When I tell people they’re awesome, I want them to shut the fuck up and accept that they’re awesome. I’m not wasting my breath telling them they’re awesome and then arguing about it.”
“It’s true that you’re not a naturally affirming person,” Mila agrees, absently resting her head on top of Ed’s to torment him with her superior height.
“Anyway, I wish him and Viktor all the joy of each other,” Ed grumbles. “They’re both huge messes of human beings. Your turn. Catch me up on rink news. How bad did Yakov blow a gasket when he figured out I’d lied about coming home after a week?”
Mila laughs, hugs him tighter, and tells him all the gossip worth knowing.
* * *
Yakov has no idea what Yuuri Katsuki (the single greatest impact on Russian figure skating in decades) did to Yuri. He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. He is, quite simply, grateful. And gratitude is not something he’d ever expected to feel toward Katsuki.
Yet here they are—in a strange, beautiful place where the desire to beat Katsuki has actually motivated Yuri to care more about skating than about science, travel, engaging in vigilante justice, or whatever the hell else he’s been doing with his life prior to this. Yakov is honestly ready to send Katsuki a fruit basket. He’s never sent anyone a fruit basket. Ever. In his life. That’s how maddening training Yuri has been up until now.
The one thing Katsuki hasn’t managed to improve is Yuri’s deep-seated hatred of male authority figures who aren’t his grandfather. (Yakov would like to have a chat with Yuri’s mysteriously absent father one day. A long, serious chat.) But this is fine. If Yuri is willing to work, then Yakov is willing to help him avoid all male authority figures, including himself. If that’s what it takes.
Lilia’s always enjoyed the more crazed students, anyway.
This does not, however, mean that Yakov is ready to forgive Vitya. For retiring? There’s nothing to forgive. Everyone retires, and Vitya is justifiably burnt out. No one can say he hasn’t achieved enough, sacrificed enough. For running off to another country without consulting his coach? A bit more difficult to forgive, but not impossible, particularly since Yuri has spent years wearing Yakov down on this topic. Though it’s also true that Yuri is a feral thing who trusts no one but his brother, while Vitya is practically family, and being disregarded this way hurts with Vitya in a way it never has with Yuri. Still, Yakov is a grown man, and he’ll get over it.
But for potentially ruining a promising skater’s career by dragging him into Vitya’s flamboyant journey of self-discovery? That, Yakov thinks he might not ever forgive. Taking reckless risks with one’s own future is a choice, even if it is a poor one. Taking reckless risks with someone else’s future is a sin.
Over the course of his career, Vitya has exasperated, infuriated, and even enraged Yakov, but he’s never disappointed him before. It is surprisingly painful.
* * *
“Where are we going, Brother?” Al asks curiously, because wherever Ed’s leading him, it’s not the skaters’ dorms.
“So Yakov shunted me off onto this ballet lady named Lilia for coaching. I guess I pissed him off for the last time. Anyway, she forced me to move into her place.”
When Al arrived in St Petersburg, Ed’s first comment was, Hey, Al, was the conference stupid? It emphatically was not what it should have been, i.e., I’ve recently been dragged off by a strange woman and forced to live in her house. But this is Ed, so Al’s hopes of civilized behavior were never very high.
“Lilia…?”
“Baranovskaya.”
Al closes his eyes, pained. “Lilia Baranovskaya, the world-famous ballerina and choreographer?” Who Ed just referred to as ballet lady, oh God.
“Sure,” Ed agrees absently, tugging at Al’s suitcase as soon as they get inside the outrageously nice house that Lilia Baranovskaya lives in.
“Do you like her, Brother?” Al asks, relinquishing his luggage to Ed with a sigh of relief. Ed gleefully drags it off to his room like he’s gotten away with something. It’s a really nice room, too.
Ed puts off answering the question for a long time, busying himself with unpacking and organizing Al’s stuff, which Al takes to mean yes, even before Ed says, “She reminds me of Teacher. Like a lot. I mean, she hasn’t chucked me bodily across the room yet, but…she might.”
Al stares at Ed in wide-eyed sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Brother.”
Ed stares back, traumatized. “I’ll…I’ll be okay. I mean, probably. I mean, we lived through Teacher, right? She can’t be as scary as Teacher. She can’t. Can she?”
“She’s never going to throw a knife at you and then yell at you about your reflexes,” Al points out encouragingly. “That’s illegal here.”
“Right?!” Ed agrees, encouraged. “And she can’t transmute me into the ground up to my neck and then leave me there for an hour.”
“She can’t transmute a spike and stab at you with it!”
“Or make me cook dinner while also making me dodge rocks she’s throwing at me.”
“Or leave you on a deserted island for a month with nothing but a knife!”
They beam at each other happily. Life on this planet is so soft, it’s amazing.
Of course, it only takes a few seconds for Ed to start looking worried and unhappy, because that’s just how Al’s brother is these days.
“We’re super-weak now, aren’t we, Al? Teacher would kick our asses to the moon.”
“Teacher would murder us the second she figured out we’d performed human transmutation,” Al points out, because that is just a fact.
“Yeah.” Ed shudders. “Yeah, she would. But even if she didn’t, how long would we last in a spar with her? You’re all academic now, and I’m only good for gliding around on ice, of all the stupid things.”
“It’s not stupid, Ed,” Al corrects him severely.
“No, it’s stupid,” Ed insists. “I know stupid when I see it.”
Al rolls his eyes and struggles against the urge to smother his brother with a pillow. “Why do you think that?”
“Because it’s making me weak, and that means I can’t protect us anymore. You don’t condition your body the same way for fighting and skating, so the better I get at skating, the worse I get at fighting. I’m exchanging safety for the ability to scoot around on the ice in a way that looks pretty. Explain to me how that’s not stupid.”
“You’re making money at it,” Al explains. “And money is power. And it also provides access to research materials.”
Ed blinks at him. “Oh.”
Al’s brother is a disaster. “So when do I get to meet Lilia Baranovskaya?”
“Not today. She and Yakov are out for dinner, so you won’t see them ‘til breakfast. You’d think dinner out would be romantic, but not the way they do it. I think they just need a weekly break from my presence so they can bitch about me in private.”
At least Ed is somewhat self-aware. “In that case, cook me dinner,” Al orders firmly.
“Bossy,” Ed grumbles, but obediently wanders off to Lilia Baranovskaya’s outrageously nice kitchen to cook dinner. Al knows it’s wrong to take advantage of Ed’s trauma about that time Al lost his body for a few hours and then they didn’t see each other for a year and Ed thought he was gone forever, but Ed’s a good cook (thanks, Teacher), and it’s too easy.
While Ed crashes around in the beautiful kitchen, Al takes the opportunity to shamelessly investigate Ed’s room. (If Ed would just be honest about his feelings, Al wouldn’t have to stoop to this. But as it stands, Ed barely understands his own feelings, so here they are.)
He finds all the usual nonsense. Extensive physics notes and alchemy theory. Angry, half-written letters to Viktor and Katsuki, because Ed still sometimes writes letters out on paper before converting them to email or text. What amounts to a list of interrogation questions for various people—Otabek, Mila, Lilia Baranovskaya, wow. The interrogation list is even about skating, for a change.
In fact…there’s a lot more skating happening in the detritus of Ed’s life than Al is used to. It’s kind of everywhere. Even the margins of Ed’s physics notes are full of sketches and equations having to do with force, momentum, rotational speed, angular velocity. It takes Al a minute, but he eventually works out that Ed’s trying to math his way through a quad axle. Absentmindedly, when he should be focused on other things. Ed is, in short, obsessing. Over skating.
Al smiles, relieved. It’s about time Ed stopped being miserable.
* * *
The next morning Al meets Lilia Baranovskaya, and Ed’s right. She is like Teacher to an alarming degree.
Happily, Al’s going back to Moscow in two weeks. As for Ed…well. Ed’s on his own.
He’ll be fine. He’s a strong person.
Chapter 3
