Love is a Battlefield (Yuri!!! On Ice - Otayuri)

Chapter 3: Eye of the Tiger

By the time he had unfolded himself from the cramped economy seat, Yuri was livid. He stomped down to the baggage claim, wrestled his leopard-print bag off the carousel, and then marched out to the waiting taxi. His breath steamed in the early-morning air, escaping his clenched teeth in small puffs. He felt like a dragon. A miniature one, maybe - tiny, but fierce.

Grandpa's flat was locked, but he knew where the spare key was hidden. He didn't want to bother his neighbors this early. He lugged his bag into his old room, smiling wistfully up at the posters of famous skaters and American rock and punk bands that were plastered across his walls, and then set out to look for his cat. "Princess," he called, checking her usual hideouts under his bed and in the closet. "Princess, where are you?"

He frowned when there was no answer. She must have found a new hideout while he'd been gone. He felt a momentary stab of guilt for leaving her here, but brushed it aside. He couldn't very well take her with him to competitions. He'd considered taking her to St. Petersburg, but Lilia was deathly allergic to cats. Yuri shook his head, thankful that he didn't share that allergy. That would be a fate worse than death.

"Princess! Where are you? It's Yuri - your humble servant." He frowned around the sparse living room. Had it always been so empty and dingy? The trinkets and paintings and scattered memorabilia he remembered were noticeably absent.

He was about to try the kitchen when the doorknob rattled and began to turn. Yuri froze, heart hammering in his chest. Grandpa was still at the hospital - he was set to be released today. He scanned frantically for something - anything - to use as a weapon, but there was nothing nearby even remotely suitable. He was just considering ducking behind the couch when the door burst open, revealing a plump elderly woman bundled into tattered coat and shawl. She struggled for a moment with the door, juggling the key, an oversized purse, and a small brown-and-white cat.

"Princess!" Yuri said, breath whooshing out of him in relief. Of course it was grandpa's neighbor, come to check on things. Of course she would be taking care of Princess in Grandpa's absence.

"Oh - Yuri!" she exclaimed, blinking startled blue eyes at him as she pressed her left hand to her chest. Princess squirmed free of her hold and stalked to the kitchen door, tail raised high in affront. "I didn't think you'd be here yet. Goodness - you should have knocked — yes, yes, darling. I'll get your food. Just a moment." She unwrapped her scarf and slipped out of her jacket, following Yuri's cat into the kitchen. Yuri tagged along after her, smiling as Princess began to devour her favorite cat food.

"Thank you for taking care of her, Yelena Petrova" he said, offering Princess his hand to sniff and then settling her gingerly against his chest when she bounded at him with sudden enthusiasm. The elderly woman chuckled.

"Call me Lena, lad. It's what your grandfather calls me - and half this town. You're the spitting image of your mother - it would feel strange to stand on ceremony with you."

Yuri bit his lip, startled at the tears threatening to spill over.

"I'm sorry, Yuratchka," she said, "I didn't think —"

"It's all right," he said, swiping the back of his hand across his eyes. "Its silly to miss her, isn't it - I barely knew her."

She clicked her tongue, but didn't answer, and then drew Yuri into a brief hug. "It's only natural, what with coming here to care for Nikolai. And a good thing, too - he won't listen to me, stubborn bastard."

Yuri sniffed, smile escaping despite his sudden melancholy. "Yes, well. I'm not sure how much help I'll be, but... I'll try."

"Good," Yelena said firmly. "Now, run along and wash up. I'll drop you at the hospital on my way to work, if you like, but we'll have to leave soon."