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When Katsuki moved in with Viktor, Yakov wasn’t really sure what to expect from him.
All of a sudden, there was another skater in his rink, and… Yakov didn’t know how he would interact with everyone else.
And if it came between Katsuki and one of his skaters… Yakov wouldn’t hesitate to remove Katsuki from the equation.
But it turned out, that was the last thing he’d need to do.
Katsuki, while not knowing much and having a pretty harsh accent, did try to speak Russian, making a conscious effort even if he unconsciously started in Japanese when he was trying to figure something out. Or when he fell.
So Yakov observed, and observed from a distance. Seeing Viktor push Katsuki more and more and couldn’t help but feel like Viktor would break him.
But he stood strong.
Getting up when he fell.
Dancing harder than before.
Running his program again, and again, and again, no matter how many times Viktor told him to run it.
Then he would do it again at the end of practice.
Yakov’s expectations for him grew. He grew used to the incredible strength and stamina. Began to expect it.
He wasn’t expecting Katsuki to be at the rink before him.
A… A day after he and Viktor had gotten back.
Jet lag should’ve hit him full force. But there he was.
Katsuki was just doing laps, warming up on the ice running through his past step sequences…
And Viktor wasn’t anywhere with him.
Yakov cleared his throat, somewhat loudly, and Katsuki’s head snapped up, foot moving wrong, and he fell onto the ice.
He shot up immediately, stammering something out in Japanese before he seemed to remember, and started again, slower, in Russian.
“I’m uh… sorry! Viktor gave me his key. Said it was alright if I left… came here early?”
Already, Katsuki was proving to be more responsible than 99% of Yakov’s other skaters.
“Carry on, if you want to do some jumps, I’ll watch,” he said, speaking slightly slower for the Japanese man, who took a few seconds to process the words.
He then grinned brightly, scratching the back of his neck as he skated back out.
Slowly, the other skaters started trickling in, including Viktor, who was dragged to the side by Yakov as soon as he stepped through the door.
“Vitya. Why was your student here without you?”
“Uh… well, Yuuri gets anxious?” he said.
“Is that a question or an answer?”
“Yuuri gets anxious, and I don’t have keys to the studio, so I told him he could do figures to calm down,” he said, explaining more.
“I see. I’ll ask Lilia about keys,” Yakov said.
But he didn’t know why?
Why was he already reaching out to help this skater?
There was just something so likeable about Katsuki.
Something to admire.
Something to respect.
When Lilia came in for the day, she took an instant liking to Katsuki.
It was obvious.
“He was a dancer first. You can tell by the way he moves,” she said proudly, head held high as she watched Katsuki warm up.
After the practice, she stalked up to him, Yakov wanted to warn her, tell her that the boy was anxious, that you really shouldn’t be so harsh with him, that he’s probably still jet lagged and every other excuse he could think of, but she was already calling out to him.
“Katsuki. Who was your teacher?” Lilia demanded.
It was like an instantaneous reaction.
Instead of shying away, or flinching back, like Yakov thought would happen.
(Like he had seen the boy do many times before.)
Katsuki straightened, spine lengthening, head held high.
“Minako Okukawa,” Katsuki said simply, and Lilia gave a firm nod.
“I want you in my studio with Yuri tomorrow,” she said, before stalking away, not paying attention to Yuri’s loud exclamation from across the rink.
“Oh my god,” Katsuki said, eyes wide.
Ah, Yakov figured, now he was going to break down.
But he was wrong again.
Katsuki whirled on Viktor.
“How could you not tell me that THE Madame Baranovskaya was going to be here! This is just unacceptable… I’ve already made such a bad impression,” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair.
“I… didn’t realize you knew her?” Viktor said, oblivious as ever.
“You didn’t think I knew her,” Katsuki deadpanned. “Viktor, she’s only the most famous prima this side of anywhere! Before I started skating, I danced and… I never thought I’d actually get to meet her! She’s a saint,” Katsuki said, and Yakov…
Yakov didn’t even know what was going on now.
Everytime he thought he had Katsuki figured out, he would pull another trick out of his hat and mess up the entire map Yakov had made of him.
So the next day, when Yuri went to the studio, Katsuki was there, waiting.
Together they danced, and…
Yakov could see it.
Katsuki had a certain way of moving. An air about him that only he had in the room.
There was no music playing, yet you could hear it.
Thrumming through Katsuki’s bones as he moved and danced for Lilia.
And Lilia?
Lilia adored him.
You could see it in her eyes.
“If only,” those eyes said.
If only Katsuki hadn’t gone into figure skating.
Lilia would’ve claimed him as her student.
Maybe even her protégé.
“Yuri, if you stamina gets half as good as Katsuki’s, you’ll make your programs twice as good,”
He also had a way of motivating Yuri. On the ice or off.
Yuri practically lived with Viktor and Katsuki as well, and Katsuki was oddly… parental towards the boy.
He was the first one to check up on Yuri when he took harder falls. He made him lunches, invited him for dinners, helped him figure out certain ballet moves. Katsuki was also the only one who could give physical affection to Yuri without being shoved away, whether it’s shoulder nudges, or being elbowed, or just a guiding hand… it was clear that Yuri was attached.
They were friends, leaving the rink together when Viktor’s birthday came up, and they needed to get gifts.
Yakov saw them talking in a kitchen language, Yuri speaking about piroshky and Katsuki talking about something called katsudon, which was also Yuri’s nickname for Katsuki.
When Yuri got overwhelmed, Katsuki was the only one who could calm him down enough to continue practicing.
When Katsuki had an anxiety attack or disassociated, and Viktor wasn’t around, Yuri took care of him.
Whispered reassurances that seemed so out of character…
Until Katsuki would fall away from the anxiety and slip into his vaguely clingy, vaguely calm form. And Yuri let himself be hugged as Katsuki brought himself back.
On those days, Katsuki would only step on the ice after everyone had left, skating figures under the watchful eyes of Viktor and Yuri.
Anyway, Yakov didn’t understand the friendship, but they were obviously attached to each other.
Through dance, ice skating, competition, rivals, friendship, family...
They continued dancing together, falling into a comfortable synchronicity.
There was an air of confidence around Katsuki that he didn’t have on the ice.
Something about it all… something about the studio brought some kind of serenity to Katsuki, and Yakov couldn’t figure it out.
He would never figure it out.
What he did know is that at the end of the day, Lilia handed Katsuki a key.
A key that looked suspiciously like the key to the studio.
Katsuki thanked her with a bow before leaving, Lilia giving him a satisfied nod.
“He idolizes you,” Yakov said gruffly at the end of the class.
“He’s a good dancer,” was all she said in reply, packing up everything she had brought.
Yakov was… startled? Shocked? Uncomfortable? It was such high praise from the normally stoic ballerina.
“You like him?” he asked, bewildered.
Lilia turned, her sharp eyes meeting his.
“You don’t?”
And…
It was true.
Yakov had taken a liking for the odd Japanese man.
He inspired a hard work ethic throughout the rink.
Mila adored him.
Yuri despised him (in the most friendly way possible).
Everyone in the rink took a liking to him, especially Georgi who was a little attached to the Japanese man, always elated when he stepped onto the ice.
Suddenly, everyone could see why Viktor left Russia for him.
They understood.
Slowly but surely, everyone began to care about him.
And Viktor’s times switched in a mishap, but Katsuki insisted that it was fine, his times were earlier than Viktors, and that worked with Viktor better than it word with Katsuki, who was an early riser a lot of the time.
But it also meant that his day off was changed. Every two weeks, the couple would get together for a day, but they also had weekly dates and what not. (It wasn’t Yakov’s job to keep track of Viktors love life. But he could always tell when they were going out to dinner… Viktor always had more energy and Katsuki was more often than not a blushy mess.)
But since Viktor’s schedule had been changed, Yakov’s week long training camp wasn’t going to have one of it’s key chaperones.
It was a stupid camp.
A handful of kids with little to no skills came to learn from the top skaters. Sometimes one kid would stand out more than the others, but overall, they were all useless kittens that tripped and fumbled over each other, and without Viktor to help wrangle…
Yakov wasn’t really sure what to do.
Until he saw Katsuki talking to a set of young triplets.
“Oh! They’re my friends' children. I used to babysit a lot for her, and the triplets are upset that I’m not there to teach them anything,” he explained, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Would you be willing to be a chaperone for the training camp coming up?” Yakov asked.
Honestly?
It was a spur of the moment decision to ask, and he didn’t expect Katsuki to say yes, but he did.
And Yakov realized that he was brilliant.
Katsuki was a central figure in the skating rink, everyone looked to him as a parental figure because he was the only one who really had his life together.
(Viktor may be his fiancé, but Katsuki knew how to cook, clean, do taxes, manage his time… Viktor was pathetic next to him. It was kind of amusing, watching the other skaters approach the Japanese man for assistance.)
He was also good at wrangling the skaters. Promises of food usually worked for them, and after the first time they started running their programs as many times as necessary to get whatever Japanese food Katsuki had promised them.
Katsuki would be good for the job, and Yakov was happy with his decision.
It was going to be a short lesson, but Yakov could use the help, and that’s exactly what Katsuki did.
Katsuki apparently had this amazing ability to get children to focus, every eye on him while he demonstrated something simple, then carefully leading the students through the same exercise.
And out of the awkward, anxious man, came a teacher. Someone stern and gifted to corral and help the children learn.
Katsuki seemed to have unending stamina on a normal day, but with the children, he had unlimited patience and expertise.
Until there was an accident.
Yakov had left the kids under Katsuki’s charge, mainly because he didn’t need the help? It was a set rubric, and Katsuki had studied it, and he didn’t need any help getting the kids to listen… so the other chaperones and Yakov backed off a little bit, watching out of the corners of their eyes, just to make sure nothing was wrong.
Katsuki was standing a bit away from the wall, drinking some water as he watched a group of the kids work on their skating.
But the rink was full of noise, the kids talking, Yuri skating, working on his step sequences, Mila lazily working her way through jumps, Georgi rambling about something to Yuri, who was ignoring him.
Katsuki didn’t hear the skating approaching behind him.
It should’ve been fine, if the kid knew what he was doing.
But the entrance was off, sending him careening through the air, right into Katsuki.
The kid bounced off, hitting the ice, and rolling to a stop.
Katsuki fell backward, his eyes wide with terror as his skates slipped out from under him, his head hitting the wall of the rink with a sickening crack.
Yakov prayed that Katsuki would stand up, shake it off like he did when he took a rough fall. But Katsuki didn’t move, and Yakov was moving as fast as he could to get to that side of the ice. Panic filled his chest. Lilia started moving next to him, her eyes wide as they reached the wall.
Mila and Georgi had rushed across the ice, their panic tangible in the air as they reached the fallen form of Katsuki.
There was a streak of blood on the wall.
Katsuki wasn’t moving.
“Oh god,” Mila whispered, as she knelt beside Katsuki.
Lilia was turning away, on the phone, calling for an ambulance.
Yakov would have to thank her later.
Georgi was gripping Katsuki’s hand lightly, gingerly pulling him away from the wall so he was lying flat.
The kids were frozen, the reckless one was dangerously balanced on his skates, leaning on the wall confidently.
“Of course, he’s far too old to still be skating, so he’ll have a reason to retire now,” he said and the rink just stopped.
Every Russian skater’s eyes were on the kid.
Anger choking out any reply Yakov could’ve come up with.
But Yuri was always able to function when he was angry.
He was across the rink like he was fired from a gun, launching himself at the kid, shoving him, sending him cascading to the ice, screaming profanities as his eyes welled with tears.
“That’s my friend! And you’re so goddamn reckless, and you say shit like that- I… he’s a world champion! You- I can’t even. How dare you?! How dare you- I, he’s my friend! You had no right-” Yuri cut himself off again, tears choking off his words as he stared down at the boy.
The boy who was silent now.
“Get out. Call your parents or whatever, but get out. Yakov will be talking to your family later, but just get out of this rink. I never want to see your face again,” Yuri choked out, eyes glistening clearly.
“Don’t be rude, Yuri,” came a slurred voice, and every eye was on Katsuki.
His eyes were hazy, he wasn’t aware, but he was alive.
“Stay awake!” Yuri yelled, skating up next to Katsuki, kneeling by his head.
“‘M cold?” Katsuki said, and Yakov could feel his insides breaking.
“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay,” Yuri pleaded, moving Katsuki’s head into his lap.
“Where’s Viktor?” he asked quietly, words still jumbled, but a little clearer as he worked to enunciate.
“He’ll be here soon,” Lilia said, shutting off her phone, fingers clearing the tears from her eyes.
“Hmph. He’s always late,” Katsuki said, absentmindedly, his eyes drifting shut again.
“Wake up Katsudon!” Yuri yelled, and Katsuki’s eyes opened a little again.
“Viktor?” he said softly, and it hurt more and more as they watched Yuri try to explain what was happening to Katsuki.
“No Viktor then…” he said at the end, and Yuri begged him to keep his eyes open as paramedics burst in through the door.
“What happened? Who’s hurt?” Katsuki asked, his voice frantic as he moved his head as much as possible, looking to Mila, then Georgi, then Yuri.
“You are, dummy,” Yuri said softly, tears still falling from his face.
“Why are you crying?” Katsuki asked gently, followed by a- “Don’t cry Yuri,”
“You’re hurt. You need to go to the hospital,” Yuri choked out as the paramedics slipped the stretcher under Katsuki.
“I’ll walk it off,” he said as his eyes drifted shut again.
“Katsudon!” Yuri yelled, and his eyes opened.
“What happened?” he asked.
“We’re ready to move, do you want to come?” the paramedics asked, and Yuri nodded, skating next to the paramedics, Yakov and Lilia willing to follow along in the car, Mila and Georgi in the backseat as they sat anxiously.
Viktor burst into the waiting room, tears cascading down his face as he took in the skaters.
“Any news?” he asked weakly, and Yakov shook his head.
Viktor took a seat next to Yuri, who slumped against him.
Yuri’s black pants were vaguely red, the dry parts beginning to flake off as he stared at Katsuki’s blood.
They all felt useless, just sitting there. Yuri was hiding his face against Viktor, who had thrown a weak arm around him.
Parental.
Silence reigned until a doctor stepped into the room.
“Family of Yuuri Katsuki?” he asked, and Viktor was up like a shot.
“I’m his fiancé,” he explained, and the doctor nodded.
“Are you okay with them listening in?” he asked and Viktor turned to see everyone approaching behind him.
“Yeah, please just-” he said.
“He’s going to be okay,” the doctor said, and everyone cried a little bit harder, this time with relief.
“Anything else?” Yakov asked, the only one (other than Lilia) composed enough to speak.
“He’s got a bad concussion, but physically, he’ll be fine,” the doctor.
“Physically?” Viktor asked weakly.
“He might have some difficulties later, which could last a few hours, a few days… could be permanent,”
“What kind of difficulties?” Yuri piped up.
“Trouble focusing. Difficulties with memory, personality changes, sensitivity to lights and noise… altered taste or smell, sleep issues, depression… we won’t really know until he wakes up,”
“Will he be able to come home?”
“We want to keep him for a day or two for monitoring, but then yes. If all goes well tonight, then you can take him home in the morning,” the doctor said and they thanked him repeatedly, being led to Katsuki’s hospital room.
Yakov was a bit… overwhelmed.
Seeing a strong skater, who was always able to bounce back… to see him lying in the bed, his eyes still dazed, but clearer than before.
It hurt.
Katsuki was always strong. And he kept going. Kept pushing.
And this wasn’t even something that was his fault.
It was a dumb kid who injured Katsuki…
Viktor had a steady stream of tears falling down his face as he sat next to Katsuki, who turned slowly.
“Hey Viktor,” he said dazed, a small smile breaking open on his face.
“H-hey Yuuri,” he said, smiling back a little, even as Katsuki’s shoulders sagged.
“Why are you crying?” the words seemed like they were difficult to get out, Katsuki struggling to form the words, which hurt worse than just seeing him.
One by one people slipped into chairs.
Yakov and Lilia by the back of the room, Yuri and Viktor on either side, and Mila and Georgi sitting beside Yuri, a little further back.
They had to request extra chairs.
“I’m crying because you’re hurt,” Viktor whispered and Katsuki just let out a little scoff, all his muscles relaxing as he threw a hand up, as if he could bat away the worry.
“Nah!” he said lazily.
“He is high as a kite,” Yakov whispered to Lilia, who smacked his arm.
After some time of quiet talking between Viktor and the two Yuri’s, Katsuki drifted off again, this time it was good though. He would be able to recover.
Eventually, they had to leave, only Viktor and Yuri remaining.
Once again, Yakov was reminded of how much the trio had become a family.
But he left, leaving them to recover.
Yakov was the first person to get the call.
The call that said there weren’t any complications, and that Katsuki would be allowed home.
He got the calls that told him that Katsuki was staying awake longer, and that he didn’t remember much about the accident, but he knew what happened.
Lilia got the call from Katsuki.
The one that said he hadn’t experienced many mood swings, and that the doctors were positive that it was a good sign, and that he would be able to dance before he could skate.
Yuri didn’t get any calls.
Turns out, the blond had been staying at their apartment this entire time, helping Viktor with cooking and cleaning. Mostly cooking, because Viktor couldn’t boil a pound of pasta without burning something.
Yakov remembered the first time Viktor tried to make something… and shuddered.
“Wait, you need to add water?”
Viktor had thankfully improved since then, but he wasn’t much better than that, so it was a good thing Yuri was there.
And eventually, Katsuki came in through the doors of the rink, Yuri and Viktor by his sides, bandages still around his head.
“Not long,” he said happily, but he was there.
In the rink.
Everyone was overjoyed.
Instantly Georgi and Mila’s performances improved, and their jumps were more successful, the step sequences flowing smoothly.
But something to know is that the rink is rarely quiet. Whether it’s just the sounds of ice skates. Or people talking. Or Lilia’s sharp commands from the studio.
The first day he was fine, only there for an hour or so, just long enough to reassure people that he was alright, and to just be back, near the ice.
The second day, Viktor and Katsuki came in together, Katsuki planning to stay the whole day, watching people skate and eating with him.
He was just trying to fall back into a normal schedule.
Around midday, Yakov noticed Katsuki flinching away when someone completed a jump. Then he was shutting his eyes tightly every time someone raised their voice.
Soon enough, he was squinting in the bright lights, not even able to look at the blinding ice.
“Viktor!” he called, and Viktor’s head swiveled towards him.
“Yes?” he said and Yakov sighed.
“Take Katsuki home. He obviously doesn’t want to mention it but he is in pain,” Viktor’s eyes locked on his boyfriend.
“Thank you Yakov,” was all he said before he pulled himself from the ice, stepping over to Katsuki, whose eyes were shut tightly, wincing when Viktor’s voice broke the air.
Yakov watched Viktor escort Katsuki out of the rink, his voice lowered to a whisper.
“Is Katsudon okay?” Yuri asked nervously.
“Headache,” Yakov guessed, but Yuri accepted the answer well enough.
The mood in the rink dimmed again.
They had all seen their friend hurting again… and it had an impact on them.
Slowly, but surely, as Katsuki reintegrated himself into the rink, they became aware of the other changes to him.
He had dark eye bags, even as he just sat on the sidelines, watching the Russian skaters next to Lilia.
He seemed tired all the time, but Viktor admitted that Katsuki hadn’t been sleeping much.
And…
Yakov was worried.
He told himself that he was worried for Viktor. Who knew what would happen if Katsuki deteriorated…
He slipped camomile tea into Katsuki’s bag, along with a bottle of melatonin. Viktor didn’t have to know it was from him.
But as he saw the eye bags begin to lighten and Katsuki begin to dance again with Lilia, nothing too strenuous, he smiled slightly.
This also helped ease the other skaters. Mila relaxed, so did Georgi. But everyone was still treating Katsuki with kid gloves.
Their touches were incredibly soft, not daring to upset the delicate balance, even as Katsuki seemed agitated by them not being normal.
The day Katsuki came back on the ice, the four other skaters were watching him like hawks.
Everyone stopped to see Katsuki execute a perfect step sequence.
He wasn’t allowed to perform any jumps yet, but he was back, and his presence eased the tension on the rink.
But when Katsuki had his first fall of the day (normally they would’ve brushed past it, Katsuki was already up on his feet again before they could react) he looked around, and saw their watchful stares from the one side of the rink and he skated up to them, anger piercing the air.
“I’m tired of you guys treating me like this! I’m not made of glass. The concussion wasn’t even my fault so please,” Katsuki’s voice softened. “Please just let it go back to normal. I’ve made a full recovery. I did my time on the bench, I waited until the doctor gave me the okay. I don’t need everyone holding me back because you are afraid,” he said, voice breaking a little. He murmured something soft to Viktor, who nodded and he skated off the rink, taking off his skates and tying his shoes before he jogged out.
“He’s right,” Lilia said first, breaking the silence.
“You all assumed that he was afraid of the ice now, but he can’t stay away,” Viktor said gently, gripping the wall tightly, not looking at any of the others.
“When he comes back, we’ll apologize,” Mila said and Viktor nodded.
“Yakov?” he asked.
“Go,” Yakov said and Viktor nodded, skating off the rink.
Practice continued without Katsuki and Viktor, but it was distracting without them. His 3 skaters were lost in thought.
The next day was relaxed. The touches started out tentative. Gentle nudges and a hand up from where Katsuki had fallen.
But it slowly went back to normal.
By the end of practice, Mila was back to using her hip to knock Katsuki over. Yuri was back to shoving him lightly, elbowing him in the gut. Georgi was ruffling his hair kindly.
Everything was back to normal in the Russian rink.