Raillery | Viktuuri

1

Cover by arthyeom

Viktor Nikiforov

"Yakov, I'm going to go now," Viktor said, glancing at his hotheaded coach, Yakov Feltsman, before finally taking his skates off.
"Eh? Why?" Yakov barked.

In the ice rink, skaters were chatting and practicing their programs, earphones in their ears as they continued creating mesmerizing stories.

That was what Viktor admired about skating—stories. The very thing that enchants or surprised an audience. And Viktor has done that many, many times.

"I'm just tired," Viktor replied calmly. "plus, I need to feed and walk Makkachin too."

Makkachin was Viktor's large, pet poodle. Viktor had loved Makkachin dearly, Makkachin being his longest companion throughout the years. He plays with his companion in his free time, but that "free time" seemed limited nowadays.

"You better not be lying, Vitya. We'll get this over with tomorrow!"
"And I'm not," Viktor said, already getting his bag. He winked. "Bye."
Yakov just grumbled.

======

"Makkachin, I'm gonna go now," Viktor hummed, constantly rubbing his companion's ears before standing up. Makkachin's tail wagged to and fro, and he barked happily in reply.

Viktor lived in an apartment in Russia. It was pretty decent, though it was smaller than most apartments he has been in.

"Be a good boy," he murmured, turning to open the door. He hesitated, but he headed outside and closed the door. He winced as he heard whimpers inside, but he forced himself to move.

In all honesty he missed the times when his apartment wasn't another place to avoid in Russia. When he was having fun with his first girlfriend. When he thought he was happy with how things were.

Viktor missed many things, that it sometimes pains him to even think about all the girls he's sent crying. Too late to say sorry now.

As he exited the building, he tensed slightly as he felt a drop of water land on his silver head. Instinctively, he looked up, and he knew he had to hurry.

Crap, he thought. It's going to rain.

Like any normal person, he turned to go to the apartment building, but he didn't want to. He couldn't. Being in an apartment that had so much memories of ex's.. it really broke him.

So he turned and walked down the lone streets of Russia, the cold air buffeting his face slightly. Sorry, Makkachin.

The sky thundered and rumbled, and he started to run as rain poured from the dark clouds trailing above.

He didn't plan to go anywhere. He just ran.

Finally, he stopped in front of a café, hesitating before eventually going inside. He shut the door behind him, and froze as he realized there were no customers.

Wait, is this café closed? He thought with panic, his blue depths widening sloghtly in embarrassment. "Uh, sorry, I just—"
"Do you need a towel?" the girl asked abruptly, her eyes scanning Viktor up and down. "you're soaking wet."

She's alone?

"..yes please," he said awkwardly. "If you're open—"
"Yeah, you can stay," the girl interrupted once more, looking around before sighing. "Right. Yuuri's out today." She muttered, throwing Viktor a towel.

Viktor caught it with ease.

"Wait, Yuuri?" Viktor asked, wiping his silver hair with the towel as his blue eyes scanned the small café. Is it the same Yuuri?

The wallpaper was slightly faded, as if it's been there for a long time. There was a counter, some seats and tables, but it was only Viktor and the girl.

"Ah, that's my younger brother," she replied, pulling out a cigarette. She lighted it with a lighter. "he went off somewhere." She puffed a smoke, raising a brow lazily. "So stranger, do you want to order or go home?"

Viktor hesitated. Maybe he should go home. And do what? Plus, if it really is Yuuri..
It was obvious on what the answer was.
"Sure. I could use some coffee," he said with a lopsided smile.

The girl just shrugged.

"Alright. Here's the menu."

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So this is the first chapter.. hope you guys like it ^^