Yuri!!! On Ice Book 1

Chapter 11

Otabek's POV 1st Person Omniscient

We sit on the bench long after the ice cream has disappeared, talking and laughing, and finally just sitting watching the sky get dark. Yuri rests his head on my shoulder, and after awhile I think he's fallen asleep. I look around in the twilight, Hasetsu is beautiful at this time of day, with the cherry blossoms dancing in the wind and the lamp lights that seem more like fairy lights than anything else. Everything's so peaceful, so quiet, and then, the sky falls. Snow. Yuri moves his head off my shoulder, I guess he was awake after all. I wonder if the snow reminds him of Russia. It doesn't snow in often in Kazakhstan, it gets very cold, but it's too dry for much snow to fall. I guess I'll have to get used to it, I thought, it snows in Russia all the time.  I sit and watch the snow fall, we really should get inside, and out of the cold, I think, but Yuri looks so pensive I can't bring myself to disturb him. "She came back," Yuri says suddenly, "My mom I mean, a few years ago, when I was 14 and was starting the race to my last Junior World Championships she just showed up at my training rink one day. She said she was sorry. That she was proud of me. She gave me a paper crane with her phone number on it and wished me luck in the contest. And then she left. Again." He blinks and looks away, "I never had the courage to throw it out." I stare at Yuri, where did that come from?  Maybe it was the snow, maybe he was thinking about our conversation earlier. I don't know. I just know that he's crying, the tears slide down his face and glisten in the street lights. 

"What did you do?" I ask him, he turns to me, not bothering to hide his sadness.

"What do you mean? Then?" He asks

"No, I mean, when she first left, did you keep living with your dad?" I say tentatively, he's never opened up enough to cry before. He looks so vulnerable, I'm afraid I'll do or say something wrong and drive him back into his shell.

"No." Yuri says simply, "My dad's dead. As far as I know at least. I lived with my grandpa in Moscow until I was 12 and met Yakov, then I moved to St. Petersburg to train. My grandpa and I are very close, I was so afraid to move away from him, but I'm glad I did. I wouldn't be where I am today if I hadn't." I don't know how to respond to this. I feel like I should say something really personal in return.

"Um," I start, "I'm close with my family too, both of my parents and my little sister Ally, she's nine. I can't imagine losing both parents, I couldn't do it." I look up to see Yuri staring at me intently, the sadness seems to lift from his features for a second leaving someone I've never seen before in it's wake. "Come on," I clear my throat, "It's cold out, and we should probably get inside."

"Yeah," Yuri shakes his head and stands up too, "Let's get going." While we walk back to the apartment we talk some more, and the topics are light and jokey, the seriousness melts away and we shift back to casual.

"Hey, Yuri, do you mind nicknames? You seem to hate it when people call you Yurio." I ask the question seemingly out of the blue, but truthfully I've been thinking about this for awhile.

"I hate the name Yurio!" He replies fiercely, but then looks at me. "I don't mind nicknames though, that is if I can have consent over it." He looks at me curiously, "Why?"

"Oh, I was just thinking how the others call you Yurio and I was just wondering.......if there was something I could call you..." I trail off, my cheeks blazing with stupidity. How stupid am I?! Why do I need a nickname? Ugh! 

"Um, my grandpa calls me Yuratchka, Yura for short. You could too if you want." Yuri says, hiding his face, a pink tinge apparent even so. "What about you?" He asks suddenly,

"My little sister Ally calls me Becka." I say "You could do that too- Yura." He smiles,

"Got it Becka."