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“Are you the punk who’s bothering my brother?”
Takeshi looks up from lacing his skates and his first thought is that it’s rich for someone with three piercings in each ear who’s wearing heavy boots and ripped jeans to call him punk and then her words wash over him and the next thought is, ‘Oh no, I’m dead.’
“Uh, which one’s your brother?” He asks to stall for time as he races to finish lacing his skates. She’s not wearing any, so he might be able to make a break for the ice before she can kill him.
“I’m Mari Katsuki,” She says, towering over him with her arms crossed in front of her chest.
‘Crap.’
Truthfully, there’s only one person at the rink that Nishigori Takeshi takes an exception to and that’s only because Katsuki Yuuri is a loser who’s too fat to skate, but is still somehow better than Takeshi at every single skill and element he tries. At dinner, he has to listen to his parents heap compliments on the shy, awkward kid, and talk about how having a real, professional skater come up from their rink will keep them in business for another generation.
Conveniently forgetting that there’s a hopeful, up-and-coming professional skater sitting right there at the kitchen table.
“Well?” Mari jabs him in the shoulder, hard enough to almost push him off the bench. “Are you gonna own it or am I gonna have to kick it out of you?”
“Your brother’s the punk!” Takeshi stands with a huff, facing her down with all the courage in his twelve year-old body. “He’s- he’s always trying tricks that are above his skill level and I’m the only one who calls him out on it! And Coach Nishigori,” Takeshi hates having to call his dad that at the rink, but the rule is the rule, “Always pays more attention to him than anyone else in class! It’s not fair - he’s already good , why can’t he let the rest of us get better? And he - he - he brought that stupid puppy all the way to the rink last week and it’s all Yuuko-chan wants to talk about and it’s like she doesn’t even notice me when stupid Yuuri’s around and – !”
He breaks off, cheeks turning pink as he realizes how close to admitting his greatest secret he is. Mari is looking at him like he’s grown a second head right in front of her.
With a quirked smile, she drops her hands to her hips, and observes, “Wow. You really think about him a lot, don’t you?”
His blush only intensifies when he looks down at his skates. “...no.”
The flat denial does nothing to change Mari’s opinion, but she gives a small, resigned sigh. “Okay, kid, here’s the deal: I’m sorry your parents make you feel like shit for not skating as well as him, but that isn’t his fault, got it? Stop taking it out on him. He really looks up to you and the only time he doesn’t look happy when he talks about skating is when he’s trying to figure out why you hate him so much.”
“I don’t hate him,” Takeshi speaks without thinking, then pauses, considers the words, and is surprised to find they’re actually true. Yeah, it’s annoying that he’s a year younger and so much better than Takeshi already, but Yuuri’s actually pretty nice other than that.
“Good,” Mari says, her dark eyes assessing him and seeming to find what she was looking for with a nod. “And as for that girl-stuff, I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“There’s no girl stuff!” Takeshi insists, even though at the same moment the sound of Yuuko laughing over on the ice forces him to lift his eyes, automatically searching for her.
She’s already out there, of course, making figures on the ice with Yuuri, of course. She looks so cute, laughing with one leg raised beautifully in the air.
Mari watches the same scene with a knowing smile. “Yeah, you’re all good on that front. So be nice, okay?”
“What do you mean?” Takeshi asks, squinting at Yuuri’s sister’s retreating back.
Over her shoulder, she just says, “I’ve seen the number of Viktor Nikiforov posters in his room. It’ll all work itself out eventually.”
‘Huh,’ Takeshi blanches, ‘What does that mean?’
This is why he’s glad he doesn’t have sisters; girls are so confusing. Besides his mom, he doesn’t think he could ever live with one.
-
Takeshi isn’t stupid, no matter what his math teacher says in the long notes he makes Takeshi deliver to his parents after a particularly bad score on a test. He knows Yuuko-chan only hangs around with him because his parents own the rink. He knows he isn’t as good of a skater as she is and that he doesn’t really have a chance of being a professional one, not like Yuuri, who is a year younger and always beats him in every competition. But he loves skating and he loves Yuuko-chan and he wants to keep skating with her for as long as he can.
So his argument is careful to account for all of that and more when he finally manages to get her alone in the stairwell during a passing period and shoves his homemade chocolates into her hands.
“...and I know you like Yuuri better than me!” His argument just keeps expanding, seeming to run his mouth for him, but he can’t stop until she says something and she won’t say anything - not even to reject him - until he stops talking, so he keeps his eyes on the floor and forces the argument forward, “But he’s in middle school still, so you can’t date him! And maybe, if you give me a try for a year then maybe you’d fall for me instead! And if you don’t like me in the end, I’ll still let you and Yuuri into the rink whenever you want, I promise that won’t change! And–!”
He’s cut off abruptly because Yuuko-chan rocks forward onto her toes and presses her soft lips to his cheek, effectively making his brain shut down and force a reboot.
“Nishigori-kun, um, I mean Takeshi-kun,” She says with a sweet laugh and pinked cheeks, “I’d love to go on a date with you!”
“What, really?” Takeshi asks, shaking his head as if dislodging something from his ear. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait for Yuuri to start high school?”
This prompts another giggle and she takes one of the chocolates out of the cellophane he’d lovingly wrapped them in this morning. “Don’t be silly, Yuuri doesn’t like me like that!”
“Of course he does,” Takeshi insists, certain down to his very bones, “Everyone at the Ice Castle is in love with you.”
She shakes her head like she thinks he is exaggerating - he is not - and just says, “Yuuri’s in love with Victor.”
She says it a little sadly, like she’s really thought this through. It takes Takeshi a few seconds to connect the name to a face in his memory.
“Who? Nikiforov?” Takeshi frowns, “How can Yuuri be in love with someone he’s never met? Also, they’re both boys, so how would that even work?”
Once again, Yuuko stuns him with another kiss on his cheek. This one is slightly warm and leaves a thin residue of chocolate on his skin. Vaguely, he thinks he’ll never be able to wash his face again.
“Oh, Takeshi-kun, you’re so funny,” She says instead of answering. “Let’s get burgers after class, okay? I want to try that new place on the corner by the rink!”
-
“Um, Nishigori-kun, can I talk to you about something?”
Yuuri can be so strange sometimes, sensitive and nervous about the smallest things. He’s in one of those moods now; Takeshi can tell because of the way his fingers twist together and his eyes are downcast. Even his voice is different, soft like he’s afraid speaking at full volume will somehow crack the ice itself.
“Of course,” Takeshi says, easily slinging an arm around his friend and dragging him a few steps across the ice, “What’s on your mind, Katsuki?”
A faint heat rises in Yuuri’s cheeks. He worries his lower lip with his teeth and peaks around the ice as though there might be anyone around to overhear them other than Yuuko, who is furiously drilling her triple axle on the far end of the rink and has headphones blasting music at full volume in her ears.
“The new skater with, um, the blue eyes…” Yuuri says slowly, carefully, and then pauses to blush for so long that Takeshi jostles him to make sure he hasn’t passed out from nerves.
“Adam-kun?” Takeshi clarifies unnecessarily. Adam is the first person to move into town rather than out of it in two years. The blond-haired, blue-eyed American with iffy Japanese made quite a splash. He was Takeshi’s age, so they’d started hanging out pretty much right away.
Yuuri’s great and all, but sometimes Takeshi wants a friend who will kick a soccer ball around with him and not just skate.
“Yeah, Adam-kun,” Yuuri affirms, a tiny smile sneaking over his face. His eyes dart around the rink and Takeshi feels, suddenly, like he’s being let in on a secret. A real one, not one of the weird anxious hangups Yuuri sometimes admits to. “Would you, um, help me talk to him?”
“Sure,” Takeshi replies, a little thrown off by the simplicity of the request. “But you know you don’t need me to talk to him, right? He’s just a guy.”
“I know, but, well,” Yuuri swallows and again Takeshi feels like he should be bracing for something monumental, “Would you, maybe, find out if he’d be willing. To talk. To me?”
Now Takeshi is even more confused. “Of course he’ll talk to you, Yuuri, he’s nice. His dialect isn’t very good, so you’ll need to use standard Japanese for him, but he’s not like a jerk or anything. Geez, what is going on in that head of yours?”
Just for old time’s sake, he hooks Yuuri’s neck in his elbow and messes up his hair while the slighter boy yelps and ineffectually tries to get away. When Takeshi finally lets him go, he skates an arm's length away and furiously adjusts his glasses across the bridge of his nose.
“I just,” He sighs, frowning, “Want to make the right impression, you know? Sometimes I can be… hard to read. And I don’t want Adam-kun to misunderstand me.”
“Just don’t overthink it,” Takeshi shakes his head, feeling unusually fond of his awkward friend. “If you’re really worried about it, come play soccer with us after school tomorrow. You don’t have to be good, just hang out.”
Yuuri looks nervous at the prospect of soccer but then gradually his smile opens, spreading wide and lighting up his whole face. “Okay - that’s a good idea!” And then for some reason, Yuuri pauses, gives him a serious look and tells Takeshi, “You’re a really good friend, Nishigori-kun.”
“Whatever.” Takeshi rolls his eyes at him, skating away, “Weirdo. Last one to the boards is a rotten egg!”
And then they’re off racing, focus returned to skating where it always ends up anyway and Takeshi doesn’t think about the conversation again.
-
“Yuuri cried when he realized he wouldn’t make it.”
After that first terrible meeting with Mari, Takeshi has come to love the Katsuki family. They’re warm and supportive, even though they’ve never really understood the sport of figure skating. It’s so different from Takeshi’s own family, where skating was the end-all, be-all of their world and Takeshi’s presence on the rink was an assumption, almost an afterthought.
Not that he has any regrets about it now, with his parents looking to retire and a new wife by his side to help him run the rink.
“I’m not surprised,” Takeshi laughs fondly, “We miss him, but we understand why he can’t make it.”
They shouldn’t talk about it today. The town’s slow but steady decline in tourism; Yuuri’s struggle with getting onto the podium this year. Yuuko hasn’t said it, exactly, but Takeshi knows she takes some of the blame for that. The pressure of trying to earn enough to pay for a trip home for the wedding had nearly ruined Yuuri’s season. He missed the Grand Prix series entirely and only qualified for Four Continents by the skin of his teeth.
But they’re not talking about it today, so Takeshi holds back his apologies, and instead says, “If he’d made it, we were going to do something more Western with the ceremony and I would have made him stand beside me for the whole thing.”
“My sweet boy would have hated that,” Hiroko laughs, a little flush from alcohol already. “Maybe it’s for the best he stayed in America.”
They share a laugh at shy Yuuri’s expense. It’s hard to believe that the dorky, awkward kid who first stumbled onto the ice of his parent’s rink over a decade ago is not only a world-class figure skater, but one of Takeshi’s closest and oldest friends.
It really is a shame he couldn’t make it.
They aren’t thinking about that today.
Just when Takeshi is thinking he’s spent enough time with his friend’s mother that he can make a polite excuse to leave, Hiroko puts a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place.
“You know, it really means so much to me how you’ve supported him over the years.” She says, soft but serious, “Toshiya and I - we’ll always love him more than anyone, but for a long time we were afraid he would be alone. He was so shy growing up and then when he turned out, well, you know… Thank you.”
Takeshi’s not totally sure what she means, but decides she’s probably referring to the fact that Yuuri’s skating career kept him out of the usual clubs and afterschool activities that might have connected him to more of his agemates, but instead left him isolated at competitions every weekend except for Yuuko and Takeshi to keep him company.
Nodding, Takeshi smiles, “It’s been an honor.”
Because it has.
“And I hope,” Hiroko-san adds, her eyes a little misty, “That if my son ever finds someone, you’d stand by him proudly, as well.”
“Of course,” Takeshi says, because he would, obviously, and is more than a little shocked when Hiroko-san bursts into tears and wraps him in a tight hug, thanking him profusely.
Over her head, Yuuko makes eye contact and expresses her concern with a quirk of an eyebrow. Takeshi can only shrug in response.
Yuuri must have gotten it from somewhere, he supposes.
-
“Yuuri-kun’s coming back tomorrow!” Yuuko says over dinner with the same excitement Takeshi feels.
It is absolutely overshadowed by the enthusiasm of the triplets.
“ Katsuki Yuuri’s coming back!?”
“Can we meet him!?”
“Let’s get to the station with balloons and flowers!”
“You’ll be going to bed by the time Yuuri’s train gets in,” Takeshi says sternly, as though they’ve ever been successfully put to bed on time. “And we wouldn’t want to embarrass him. Yuuri doesn’t like being the center of attention.”
“That’s silly,” Loop announces, “Even after a terrible year, he’s still Japan’s top skater!”
“Anxiety doesn’t work that way, sweetie,” Yuuko does her best to make it a teachable moment, “Sometimes your body feels things even though your brain knows they aren’t true.”
“I could never even get him to go on dates,” Takeshi sighs, remembering their long high school days, “I was constantly fielding confessions for him, but he always said it was too much pressure. Poor Rin-san was so brokenhearted, I think she missed three days of class to recover.”
When he gets back from memory-world, he’s met with a familiar landscape of four bemused faces all looking like they know something he doesn’t.
“Dad,” Axel starts.
Loop continues, “Yuuri’s twenty-three…”
“And he’s never had a girlfriend.” Lutz finishes. “Don’t you know what that means?”
Takeshi sighs, “That he’s a cripplingly anxious nerd that never notices when someone has a crush on him. Maybe I should try to set him up while he’s here. Someone nice and local so he doesn’t move internationally again.”
“Oh, honey,” Yuuko says with laughter in her eyes, head pillowed on her palm, “You’re so sweet.”
Takeshi doesn’t get it. “What’d I say?”
-
“Okay, um, this is one of my oldest friends, Takeshi.”
For all that Russia’s Living Legend has been using his rink as a home base for a week now, and forcing Yuuri to skate nothing but basic drills for the same amount of time, Takeshi hasn’t actually had a chance to be formally introduced.
It’s almost like Yuuri’s been putting it off, but Takeshi hadn’t understood why until he finally saw them together, off the ice, for the first time.
Yuuri is looking shyly between them, a blush staining his round cheeks. He’s holding his Team Japan jacket in his hands and keeps twisting the material. One movement for every word.
“And, um, Takeshi, this is Viktor Nikiforov. He’s my new coach.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Viktor says in smooth English, holding out his hand in greeting. “Yuuri’s told me a lot about you.”
“Yeah?” Takeshi grunts out a laugh before taking the offered hand in his own, “He’s told me an awful lot about you, too, over the years.”
“Oh, really?” Viktor’s smile is deceptively light and cheerful compared to the grip of his fingers around Takeshi’s palm, which are tight and do not let go when Takeshi expects them to. “All good things I hope?”
It’s then that Takeshi notices the way Viktor’s eyes drag against him, weighing and assessing him. Takeshi swallows, feeling like fresh chum tossed in the water. “Uh, yeah, nothing but the best from the living legend, right?”
“Takeshi!” Yuuri hisses, as though Takeshi’s the one being weird, and then looks back at Viktor with a raw, open-faced look of longing that Takeshi’s never seen and suddenly.
Huh.
It all clicks.
Katsuki Yuuri loves Viktor Nikiforov.
He doesn’t admire him for his skating or his daring fashion choices over the years or the millions of dollars worth of advertising gigs he’s won. Or maybe he admires all that, too, but at the heart of it Katsuki Yuuri is just in love with Viktor Nikiforov. The man.
And, if the hard glare Viktor Nikiforov is laying into him is any indication, Russia’s Living Legend is not far behind the fall.
“I’m an idiot,” Takeshi says, forcefully removing his hand from Viktor’s so he can hook his friend’s neck into his elbow again and ruffle his hair. “Hey, were you and Adam a thing?”
“ What-!? ” Yuuri yelps, “You’re just figuring that out now!? You didn’t seriously think I burned my neck with a hair straightener - my hair’s already straight!”
“Who is this that is burning my Yuuri’s neck?” Viktor asks, again with a light tone and heavy eyes.
“ Viktor ,” Yuuri gasps, like he’s just remembered his life-long idol is in the room with them, “It’s no one! Someone from a long time ago; I don’t know why Nishigori-kun brought it up!”
“Were there other boys?” Takeshi continues, too amazed by this realization to care that there’s an additional party watching. “Anyone from my class?’
“ No. ” Yuuri says, too quickly and with heated cheeks.
“Oh my god, who was it?” Takeshi bellows out a delighted laugh, “You have to tell me, Yuuri! How could you have held out on me for all these years?”
“I’m late for practice.” Yuuri says, wriggling out of Takeshi’s grip and ignoring the fact that his coach is standing beside him. “I’m going to put my skates on now.”
And then he’s off, frog marching himself down to the ice with a straight back and a blush on his face that will probably last an hour. Takeshi watches him walk away, laughing and smiling all the while.
When he finally catches his breath, Viktor Fucking Nikiforov is staring at him like some sort of vital source of information. “I think you and I should have a chat.”
But Takeshi can only shrug helplessly, “At this point, you know more than I do, man.”
On second thought, he adds, “You can probably get more intel out of Yuuko. She’s the one that apparently did not lend him a hair straightener.”