Chapter Text
Since everything had been agreed to, all that was left to do was make arrangements. Yuuri slipped out of the hotel room and into the hallway to make a call, trusting that Yuri would be safe enough for now with Viktor watching over him and Celestino and Yakov also still in the room, working out the minute details for their plan.
He should have made this call right away once he started committing himself to the path he was taking, but he wasn’t sure that his family would agree with his decision and he didn’t want to argue with them while convincing Celestino and Yakov at the same time.
But now that they were on board with everything, he had no choice but to make his call. Otherwise, Mari and Minako would just call Phichit or Celestino to demand their answers and he didn’t want to put either in an awkward position.
Besides, he had promised he would call as soon as he decided if he was going to compete for another season or not. He’d been going back and forth in his mind during the past few months, but he was committed now—in more ways than one.
“Yuuri!”
The skater held the phone away from his ear at the loud greeting and then the flurry of everyone talking over each other. He had called Minako first, but she must have been over at Yu-Topia, sharing a meal with the rest of his family.
“Yuuri, are you feeling okay? We heard that some skaters got sick. Were you one of them? Are you eating okay now? What was the food that made everyone sick?”
That was his mother, who was—as always—worried about his health and if he was eating enough.
Nervous laughter bubbled out of him because he had nearly forgotten that was the cover story. “I’m fine,” he reassured her quickly. “I didn’t get sick. But I’ve got some news to share and a request to make of Mari and Minako. It’s about next season.”
On the other end of the line, his family quieted.
“You’re continuing on then?” Minako asked knowingly.
“Yes, but not with Celestino,” Yuuri replied quietly. “There’s been a change in my situation and I’ll be training next season in Russia with Yakov Feltsman.”
He pulled the phone away from him again at the expected outburst from his own Omega-sponsor. His parents and Mari were all Betas, but Yuuri had taken after his grand-dam and presented as an Omega, so Minako had taken on that role since she was one of his mother’s closest friends, with some help from Yuuko after his friend had presented as well.
After the expected fangirling over the fact that Yuuri was going to be training with the same coach who was responsible for Viktor Nikiforov—he absently wondered if his and Minako’s admiration and flailing over the living legend would continue after the next few weeks, because already he got the sense that Viktor in private was much different than the public face he wore—Minako turned serious.
“Why the sudden change, Yuuri? You love Celestino as your coach and Yakov doesn’t coach Omegas.”
“He does now,” Yuuri muttered. “One of his younger skaters presented this week as an Omega and he wanted someone who had experience dealing with the ISU to help them out. I … offered.”
There was a long moment of silence as his family processed that bit of news. It probably didn’t mean much to his parents, as unfamiliar with figure skating as they were, but it would be more significant to his sister and Minako. Especially Minako.
“Yuuri, are you trying to say you’re this pup’s new Omega-sponsor?” she asked in a sharp tone that made Yuuri grimace.
“Yes?” he said, a bit uncertainly at first. Then he repeated the word more firmly. “Yes.”
“It’s a big responsibility,” Minako started, then seemed to remember who she was talking to—Yuuri, who had committed himself to figure skating before age 12 and then never looked back, even when his anxiety and competition nerves meant that he wasn’t winning competitions like he hoped. Yuuri, who had fought his way to the senior-level, even after he presented and many people thought that there was no point in his continuing, because all of the skaters competing internationally were Alphas or Betas. Yuuri, who had already moved countries once at a relatively young age for a senior-level coach and better opportunities than he could find in Hasetsu. If anyone could handle the responsibility, he could.
She sighed. “If you ever need any advice or help, I’ll be here for you,” she said. “What do you need from Mari and me?”
“Phichit shipped a few boxes of my things to Japan because I had been planning on doing some ice shows there,” Yuuri said. It had been a plan that would allow him to keep skating during the off-season as he figured out if he still wanted to compete the next year. “When they arrive, can you ship them to Saint Petersburg? To Yubileyny? I’ll be leaving from here, so I won’t have time to pick them up or ship them myself.”
“Of course,” Mari answered. “Just text us the address. We’ll figure out who’s covering the shipping costs later.”
It was probably a good thing that they were talking on the phone and Yuuri couldn’t see Minako, because his Omega-sponsor had stolen Mari’s phone and was already looking up flight costs to Saint Petersburg, Russia. Mari had a feeling that there wouldn’t be any shipping costs, because Minako would bring all of Yuuri’s things in her suitcase when she went to personally check on him in the next couple of weeks.
“Thank you,” Yuuri said, and then spent the next few minutes catching up with his family while also evading as many questions about his situation as he could. The news would probably break as soon as they landed in Russia, given how popular figure skating—and Viktor—were there, but he wanted to keep it quiet as long as possible. He should be safe right now in an empty hallway, talking in Japanese, but better safe than sorry, especially when it involved his new pup.
When he finished his phone call, Yuuri sent off a quick text to Celestino and Yuri, letting them know where he would be if they came looking for him. He knew that he should rejoin the others and have some sort of say in the arrangements being made, but it had been a while since he had been on the ice and he wanted to clear his mind a bit before he returned and dealt with the chaos.
The ISU still had the practice rink booked, despite the exhibition gala being over, so it was easy to grab his skates and his bag and head over there for some privacy. There were a few marks on the ice indicating that there had been other skaters there recently, but for now, Yuuri was alone.
It was nearly as nice as being at Ice Castle—or at least how he remembered Ice Castle being, since he hadn’t been there in years. Most senior coaches trained several skaters, so it could be difficult to find private ice time.
He traced figures on the ice, since he didn’t want to skate the same programs he’d been skating all season—Worlds was over, the season was done, and he would be perfectly fine never skating those programs again—and he didn’t want to skate some of Viktor’s old programs, not with the man himself in the same city. He was alone and without a spotter, so jumps were out, and there was no music, so he wasn’t inclined to sketch out a few step sequences.
It took a few minutes, but he felt the ice gradually take effect and most of his smaller worries fade away. The larger one remained, but the absence of the smaller ones meant that he could focus on that one thing and make a plan.
The peace only lasted for less than half an hour, before the door to the practice rink banged open.
“I’ll kill him,” Yuri was vowing loudly. “Painfully. Slowly. With his own skates. He never let on, not even to himself, and now he thinks that he has the right to—” He let out a primal screech of rage as he stormed down to the rink barrier. “KATSUKI!”
Yuuri slowed, keeping his face turned slightly away so Yuri couldn’t see him struggling not to smile. It looked like he was needed—if only to prevent a murder.