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Victor felt his blood freeze milliseconds before his brain had even registered what was wrong.

One of the younger skaters who was supposed to be on the opposite side of the rink with the other lower kids group had somehow ended up all the way over to where Victor had been giving Yuri pointers for his newest short program.

Be it out of cockiness or of a dare, the punk hadn’t even hesitated before following through on his double axel, which was still shaky to say the least. But that wasn’t what froze Victor in place. What froze the silver haired man in place was the fact that a split second before taking off in what was supposed to be a  triple toe, Yuri’s attention was stolen by something off to the side near the bleachers behind the rink wall.

And then fumbled, Victor’s eyes had widened, lips parted slightly in surprise.

And then he was seeing everything in slow motion.

A flash of white from the kid’s jacket in the air, moving forward with considerable momentum joined Yuri’s all black form trying to re-adjust mid air before being shoved away by the kid.

And then everything burst back into normal speed as the full body weight behind the shove mixed with the enormous amount of momentum Yuri had already accumulated mid jump sent him colliding hard on his back to the rink wall before crashing down on his front sprawled out, face down on the cold ice.


“F-Fu…” the blonde wheezed out, black gloved fingers grasping against the ice as he struggled to move from his prone position.

“Yuri! Are you alright?!” There was a blur of raven hair racing towards the blonde within seconds, turning for a split second to motion Victor to check on the younger one before turning back to check on Yuri.

Victor nodded before turning sharply, settling a bemused glare on the younger who was beginning to look more and more petrified with each second.

Which was understandable.

Angry Victor was rare. But it was something that was truly terrifying as bright blue eyes narrowed, shoulders setting as hands curled into fists by his side as he skated briskly over to the kid, glaring a moment longer before speaking, words heavy with restrained fury as he tried his best to keep his words even.

“Get out.”

It wasn’t loud, but it carried as everyone froze, all eyes on them.

The younger stood frozen to the spot, eyes wide as he stood rooted.

Victor skated closer, nearly skate to skate.

“I said-” he pointed to the rink door “Get. Out.”

There was a beat of hesitation before the boy scrambled as fast as he could out of the rink, trying to put as much distance between himself and the fuming skater.

Victor turned back, quirking a brow at the sight of Yuri grappling onto Yuuri in attempt to regain his balance, still doubled over trying to catch his breath.

But his attention was on the ice or on Yuuri who seemed to be trying to calm the blonde down.

Victor followed the younger’s line of sight, brows knitting together as he caught sight of someone standing next to the coach’s bench.

“What the hell...?” Yuri muttered as he continued to stare.

“Yuri, who’s that?” Victor inquired, skating closer to the teen.

There was a beat of silence before Yuri glanced up at Victor with a look of apprehensive confusion.

“That’s-that’s my mom…”

Yuuri and Victor stared back at him.

“Stop fucking staring. I said what I said.”

“Your mother?” Yuuri repeated bewildered.

“Did I stutter?” Yuuri let it go, alternating between Yuri and his supposed mother.

“I haven’t seen her in months.” he added a little quieter.

There was moment of silence before Victor spoke.

“We should go say hello.”

Neither Yuris missed the ‘we’, but neither one hesitated to skate after him.

“Hello. My name is Victor Nikiforov. I’m standing in for Yakov today. You must be Mrs. Plisetsky.” the resemblance was uncanny.

The blonde woman flat out ignored Victor as her eyes landed on Yuri.

“Sweetie. It’s been such a long time!” she went in for a hug that Yuri barely dodged.

“Why are you here.” it was almost venomous.

“I just wanted to see how my beautiful son was doing! I wanted to watch you skate-”

“Since when do you show up to ‘watch me skate’? You’ve had years to do that. Why now?”

Her smile flickered.

“I know I haven’t been able to make it to a few of your competitions but you know how hectic my schedule can be.”

Victor narrowed his eyes.

He knew. Just like how his parents had always been busy as well. It hurt less as time went on, but he knew that it had to hurt the younger even just a little bit.

“If this is just a social meeting, I’d like to request it happen after practice. Yuri’s busy as well with his new short program and he needs as much time as he can-”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure what I have to say takes a little more precedence than yours. I’m his mother, you know. Technically mothers outrank coaches. I mean, I’m the one making your payroll anyway.” Victor’s brow nearly reached his hairline at the rudeness.

It wouldn’t do…

But before he could utter another word, Yuri snapped, arms crossed, shoulders tensed in irritation.

“No one is out ranking anyone. I have practice to get back to, so if that’s it, you can go. It’s a little too late to make amends.”

“I’m not here to make amends.”

“Then why the fuck are you here to begin with?”

“Because, Yuri. We need to talk.”

“We’re talking.”

She rolled her eyes. Before pulling out a file from her large leather purse.

“Your father and I have come to an agreement about your future.”

“My future is skating.”

“No. It’s not.”

It would have been funny if it wasn’t so ridiculous.

Victor looked straight up affronted.

“You know your grandfather isn’t going to be alive for much longer.”

Yuuri recoiled at the emotionally empty bluntness.

“You’re going to need funds.”

“I have funds. I have sponsorships-”

“All of which are co-signed by your father.”

He could have sworn he felt his eye twitch.

“Okay. So you’re going to what? Hold my sponsorships hostage? For what?”

“We just want you to finish your schooling.”

He turned to Victor.

“Did I just hear that right?”

Victor nodded.

“You want me, a senior grand prix medalist to go back to school? What kind of shit idea is that?”

She handed him the folder.

“Your father recently got a promotion and I’ve been featuring more often which means our family is going to be scrutinized by a lot of important people.” she rattled off impatiently, dropping the kind demeanor.

“I will not be having anyone using the fact that, you never graduated, against us.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“Are you serious right now?”

She just glared.

Yuri tossed the file away to the side, glaring back.

“You don’t think that maybe, just maybe, the fact that I’m one of the best skaters in the world might overshadow a fucking high school diploma?”

“You don’t know that!”

“Anyone in their right mind would know that!” he rebutted angrily.

“I don’t have time to juggle anything else with skating. That’s why I moved here in the first place.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

Yuri took a deep breath.

“I’m not doing it.”

“Yes. You are.”

“You can cut me off. I’ll just file for emancipation. I practically have already.”

“We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way. Your father has good lawyers.”

“Are you seriously threatening me with lawyers?”

“You heard me.”

Yuri’s knuckles were turning white from the grip he had on the wall, but he didn’t yell.

“Leave.” he hissed.

His mother took one last cool look around before nodding.

“I’ll see you soon.” she turned on her heels and left leaving a fuming Yuri behind.

“Yurachka…” Victor began.

“Not a word.” Yuri exhaled sharply.

“Not. One. Word.” he stook a moment longer before reaching for his phone.

“I’m calling Yakov.” Victor nodded.

“And I’m taking the day off.” he put his guards on angrily, sidestepping a concerned Yuuri.

Fuck this.