❆ come on out ❆

2 ❆ VICTOR

Author's notes, TW & CW
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Their entrance back into the hot springs is utterly silent.

Victor walks behind Yuri, who has been crying silently in bursts since he arrived at the airport. Makkachin trails behind both of them, and even he seems to be affected by the heavy disappointment that hangs over them. They don't talk or touch.

Victor has criticism to share—constructive, of course, if harsh, but he doesn't even bother. He knows Yuri doesn't care now. That's the part that makes him the angriest, the fact that Yuri doesn't even care anymore, not in a way that matters. It would be one thing if he acknowledged his fuck-up and resolved to try again next season, it would be one thing if he had looked Victor in the eye and dared him to punish him for trying to skate alone. But he stood there with his head down and cried, and when Victor gave him a disappointed look, he'd taken it with no complaint. No, he's not interested in learning from this mistake. All that concerns Yuri now is how fast he can get to his room and cry in private.

This breaks Victor's heart at the same time as it fills him with unbearable rage. It's this slow-burning fury—at himself for leaving, at Yuri, at everything—that makes him incapable of even so much as returning the weak smiles of Yuri's family when he returns to the hot springs. Yuri goes straight to his room. Victor, a little too dignified to mope alone, sits down at a table and stares into space.

Yuri's mom approaches him a minute later, seeming almost guilty as she slides in across him. "How is he?" she asks. Her Japanese accent while speaking English is more obvious than Yuri's, lilting her words pleasantly. Not for the first time, Victor wishes he was better at Japanese so she wouldn't have to speak English for his sake.

Victor stays silent for a moment, wondering what tack to take. "Pretty bad," he eventually says, seeing no reason to lie.

"Did he tell you anything at the airport?"

"He said his career was over." Victor rests his chin on his hands. "He'll be right, with that attitude."

She presses her lips together and says something under her breath in Japanese that Victor doesn't catch. "We've all been so worried about him. You'll keep him company until you go back, won't you?"

"Go back?"

"To Russia. Unless you're still going to train him?" She sounds hopeful.

A jolt of anxiety goes through Victor at that, but he does his best to stay composed. "I haven't decided yet," he says. "But I don't think he'll want me around very much."

"That doesn't matter," she says, nervous, "as long as you keep an eye on him. I don't want him anywhere near the hospital again, it really is so rough for everyone around him, you know. It's better if he just has some friends to check up on him, but he shuts himself off so much. You two seemed so close, I thought maybe... well, you know."

"I—?" Victor checks himself before he can ask, then nods. "Yes, of course I will. I don't have plans to leave soon anyway."

"Oh, that's such a relief. Thank you." She offers him a wide smile. "I haven't thanked you nearly enough for what you've done for him. Even though he didn't get that far, he really has been enjoying himself. It's been nice to see him so excited again, and the hot springs has so many customers thanks to you! We're all so glad you came all this way to train him."

Victor's not sure why, but he feels a sudden wave of shame wash over him. He feels like an impostor, imposing on these people, taking their thanks. Would they be so full of smiles and praise if they knew he was using Hasetsu as a place to hide from the world? He manages a weak smile. "Of course. Your son is really talented, you know. He just needs to get a more realistic view of his own skill level. He's got the makings of a top-notch skater."

"Well, if anyone can bring that out in him, it's you," she smiles. "Now, you must be hungry since you missed lunch. Want something to eat? A pork cutlet bowl?"

Victor almost refuses, but he reconsiders and nods. "Thank you, that sounds good."

"You sit right there, I'll get it for you." She smiles at him one more time, then gets off and makes her way towards the kitchen.

Victor sighs and hangs his head. Not for the first time this year, he takes a moment to indulge in his own confusion and self-pity. What had she meant, the hospital? Did Yuri get hurt or something? What would that have to do with—

No. Nope, nope, he can't deal with this right now. He pushes that thought far away into the very back corner of his brain firmly labelled To Deal With Later. He straightens up, takes a deep breath and gives Makkachin a kiss on the top of his head. "We'll figure it out," he says, more to reassure himself than the dog. "It'll be okay."

❆

Victor gives Yuri a solid three hours alone in his room, but that's just about all the patience he can muster. He knocks on Yuri's door at seven sharp, a pork cutlet bowl in his hands. "Yuri, dinner!" he calls, "there's a pork cutlet bowl out here for you too! Come eat it and then we'll head down to the rink!"

"Why?"

He got an answer! That's encouraging, never mind Yuri's sullen tone. "Well, we should review that choreography and get it down more solidly. We'll even forget the jumps for today, if you don't want to talk about it. I rewatched the recording, and your Ina Bauer could—"

"Victor," Yuri says. "Just go." His tone is flat, not upset, but utterly apathetic. Somehow, that's worse. It feels downright cruel.

Victor draws in a difficult breath and reminds himself that Yuri's just upset, doesn't mean it. "Why not? It'll make you feel better." He's starting to sound like Chris. "We can work through the parts that tripped you up and build your confidence."

Yuri lets out a miserable laugh. "Why are you even still here? I thought you said you were going to resign if I messed up."

"The circumstances are different this time. It's really my fault, if you think about it, so I'll be responsible, okay?" Does he really believe that one hundred percent? Well, no, but he's willing to take responsibility if it gets Yuri back on the ice. "Yuri—"

"I said forget it, Victor!"

A long silence. Victor squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, he's smiling, not too wide, not too small. It's the complacent and charming smile he gives to people he's meeting for the first time. "I'll leave the pork cutlet bowl outside your door. Get a good rest. I'll come back tomorrow."

Yuri doesn't answer.

Victor leaves.