Chapter Text
“Happy birthday, Yuuri!”
Yuuri's standing in the doorway of his childhood home, closing the door behind him and Vicchan before the winter chill can follow them inside. There's a dusting of snow on his hat and shoulders from the flurry outside, which the weather report says is supposed to linger throughout the night. It's the kind of weather that begs one to return home and snuggle up beneath the covers.
Yuuri replies in his mother's native tongue. “Technically, it's still a few days away.”
Given that his birthday is in the dead center of the work week this year, it was either come home before or after to properly celebrate with his family. Yuuri opted for an earlier celebration, given work obligations as well as his group's usual plans to stream this coming weekend. It's best not to disturb anyone else's plans for the week if he can help it. It doesn't make much difference to Yuuri either way, but it does feel a little odd to hear those two celebratory words days before he's technically rolled over into the next year of his life. Not that his mother seems to mind.
Shorter than him, his aging mother smiles up at him with all the happiness in the world. She continues on in Japanese. “Well, for today it is. Dinner's almost ready, you're just in time. Minako-senpai is already here and waiting for you.”
Of course she beat me here, Yuuri thinks with an exasperated smile. Birthday's are a perfect excuse to let loose, and there's nothing his boss loves more than partying it up back home. “Phichit-kun couldn't make it,” he says, as he shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on a nearby coat stand. “But he wishes you well and promises to be here for the holidays.”
“Wonderful. I'll have his usual room set up for him.” His mother turns to walk further inside their home, then stops and turns back to him when Yuuri doesn't immediately follow. “Yuuri? Come inside and warm up, it's chilly back here.”
Down on the floor, Vicchan yips as if in agreement. He takes off the second the leash is unclipped from his collar, dashing further inside to where he knows where warmth and good company reside.
Yuuri answers, “Yes, okaasan.” With a deep, settling breath, he takes his first step onto the old, familiar wooden floor and back into his home.
It's not the largest place in the world, maybe not even the fanciest in some people's eyes, but it's the coziest place Yuuri's ever lived, and he can't help but feel the weight of everything lift a little higher off his shoulders as he walks inside.
His childhood home is situated at the back of a privately owned bed and breakfast. His parents have lived and worked here longer than Yuuri can remember, having moved to the states before he was born but shortly after his older sister took her first breath. While the outside is an older western style building, much of the inside leans towards eastern aesthetics. Over the years, his parents have brought in as much from back home as they could to their new life on the other side of the world. There's nothing like classic shoji sliding doors, but there's still tatami mats on some of the floors, a large kotatsu in the living room that Yuuri has had many a late night gaming with, and low tables and cushions for his family to relax with closer to the ground.
As Yuuri heads inside, he smiles at the the walls that carry lovingly framed photos of his family over the years. His parents as a young couple in the 80s and 90s, his sister and him growing up between picture frames, then random moments over the years of bright accomplishments and shared family memories. There's even a small scattering of photos of Vicchan from Yuuri first got him a few years ago. There's also photos and memorabilia of Hasetsu, Japan, a quaint place where his parents grew up and fell in love in. Yuuri's family has visited sporadically over the course of his childhood, but it's been a long time since then. Some part of him misses the otherworldly hot springs other members of their family run like he's meant to be there right now, soaking his tired bones in healing waters.
However, here is good, too.
It's not just their private home that feels like a strange blend of nostalgia for a place he barely knows and an acceptance of the one he does. The front of the establishment carries much of this blending of two worlds as well, which makes it quite the attraction for locals and tourists of many backgrounds looking for a quiet place to come back to. You could come here for the night, or simply visit the mini restaurant up front for some good, authentic food for an hour or two. With his parent's homemade cooking and carefully kept business, this is a hard place to say no to, even for a few hours.
Yuuri's home is nothing quite like the world when he steps outside, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Stepping into the living room, Yuuri flinches from the sudden explosion of a party cracker.
“Welcome back, nerd!” he hears his sister first. She holds the remains of the party cracker in her hand, smirking at the way the confetti flies wildly at her younger brother.
Seated at the kotatsu, Vicchan curled up in her lap, Minaki chimes in with an impatient, “Finally! You kept us waiting. Your father wouldn't let us crack into the good sake until you got here. Hiroko-chan, get the glassware, I'm parched!”
Third, but not least, is Yuuri's father, who slowly lifts himself off the floor with cracking knees to greet Yuuri closer at eye level. “Okaeri, Yuuri. We've been waiting for you.”
Yuuri smiles back at everyone, grateful to be back after too many months of being away. It's been far too long. “Tadaima.”
-
It's not a birthday celebration without a very special dinner.
With all the reverence in the world, Yuuri's mother sits down a full bowl of katsudon before him. The pork and rice are still steaming, their savoury scent wafting in the air like an enchanting spell that makes Yuuri want to dive in like a ferocious animal.
He manages to hold back, for the sake of courtesy.
Next to him, Vicchan openly drools, licking at his lips over and over again as if he can already taste it.
(Yuuri will wait until his parents aren't looking before he'll sneak the tiniest piece of pork to him.)
“Damn, just look at him,” Mari teases from the other side of the table. Her hand fidgets next to her bowl, likely from the need to hold a cigarette, but their parents have really cracked down on her smoking inside these past few years. “Ten seconds in and he already looks like he wants to weep from joy.”
Their mother smiles, even as she lightly reprimands with, “It's been a long time. Let him enjoy.”
Downing her third glass of sake, Minako tries her best to hide a hiccup behind the back of her hand. “He's been working his ass off lately. If anyone's earned this, it's him.”
Yuuri picks up his chop sticks, expression carefully neutral despite the screaming need to chow down. “It's my birthday dinner. If I want to weep over perfect katsudon, then I will.”
Mari snickers. “Spoken like a true glutton.”
“Damn right,” Yuuri shoots back.
Settled around the kotatsu, everyone digs into their meal and catches up. Snow fluttering outside the window, the television distantly playing in the background, and with the kotatsu heating at a perfect temperature, it's the perfect set up for a night in.
Yuuri's quiet through most of dinner, far too immersed in the perfection rolling across his tongue at the moment, though his mother talks softly to him about all the family updates that have occurred in his absence.
“Vicchan's Christmas sweater is almost done,” she informs him. “I decided to go for a wintry theme this year. It's quite the fun challenge to knit little snowflakes.”
In between them, Vicchan's tail begins to wag. Of course the little gremlin heard his name and assumed it meant something positive for him.
Yuuri nods along, swallowing the large bite of food in his mouth so he can answer her. “He's worn out the one from last year already. I'm sorry. I know they usually last longer than this. I keep catching him chewing on it when it's not on him. I have to hide it when he's not looking.”
His mother chuckles. “He's still such a puppy, even though he's a few years old now. I did notice it looking a little rough for wear when he came in. I'm just happy he likes it so much.”
“A little too much, if anything,” Yuuri sighs.
As soon as his mother turns away to say something to her husband, Yuuri sneaks Vicchan a quick piece of pork. Just so he stops drooling so hard on the mat already.
Smacking his lips, Vicchan puts a paw on Yuuri's leg and turns the puppy dog eyes up to eleven.
“I know,” Yuuri says to him with sympathy. “But the rest is mine, okay?” He's gotten pretty good at making this himself back in the apartment he shares with Phichit, but truly nothing compares to his parent's cooking. He's sure Vicchan agrees. There's just something about it that he can't quite mimic yet, although he's sure he can get there in time.
It makes him wish Viktor were here to enjoy this with him. With all of them.
... Not that any of his family know about Viktor yet.
Yuuri takes another bite of his meal to try and stuff the guilt down.
“... Oh yes, the students are still all quite intimidated by your son,” Minako explains to his parents. “Yuuri-kun will demonstrate a new move for them, and their jaws will be on the floor before he's even finished! He's actually quite the distraction for some of them. I'm sure too many of them are discovering what 'love' is for the first time. Isn't that funny? At least I'm making money off it.”
Flushing, Yuuri tries his best not to choke.
“That's my boy!” his father laughs, cheeks rosy from several glasses of sake. If anyone can match Minako's speed, it's him. “He's becoming quite the lady-killer.”
Minako snorts at the grossly inaccurate comment, but like she promised months ago, she keeps her mouth shut on the matter.
“He can't date one of the students,” Mari pipes up. “That's breaking, like, fifty different rules right there.”
“I'd have to kick his ass if I caught him doing that,” Minako agrees.
“Well,” Yuuri utters, “good thing we're not at risk of that, then.”
“Of that,” Minako agrees mysteriously. Mari catches Yuuri's eye, a confused look on her face, but Yuuri tears his gaze away quickly to avoid any further questions.
Unfortunately, as predictable as Vicchan gnawing at his collar for the tenth time tonight, Yuuri's father still remarks, “You are getting up there in age. It's about that time to be looking for someone to settle down with. Work is important, but so is family.”
Staring down at his near-empty bowl, Yuuri toys with his chopsticks. Not this conversation again...
“He's still young,” Minako defends. “There's always time for something like that a little later. Don't give me that look, Toshiya-san, I'm still single and I'm as old as you are! You're not drunk enough to call me an old maid yet.”
“I'd never!” his father laughs, even as he reaches for the bottle of sake and makes to pour Minako another glass. Naturally, she doesn't complain.
As the mood settles back into something more relaxed, Yuuri's mother comments, “It'll happen when the time is right. There's no sense rushing anything. You can't force real love to happen.”
Mari snorts. “Yeah, right. Anything's possible if they're rich enough.”
“You're too young to be thinking like that yet,” Minako snickers into her drink. “You still have hope.”
The conversation around Yuuri wanders away, moving onto a new rom-com everyone has been watching lately, leaving Yuuri behind to chew on his thoughts.
This happens almost every time he comes home these days. His parents mean well. He knows they do. Unfortunately, that doesn't stop how awkward the constant concern regarding his romantic life can feel. For years – his most of whole life, really – he had almost zero interest in other people like that. Even the one attempt he made before he met Viktor couldn't last longer than an hour. It's almost pathetic. He's a man, isn't he? Warm blooded? A tightly wound bundle of intense desire carefully masquerading beneath human civility?
He wonders.
Besides, Yuuri knows what his parents are really asking when they gently dig into his private life. Are you happy? Is there someone to share life and its struggles with? Will you be taken care of when we're no longer here? Will our name and history carry on? It's such a loaded question, carrying the immense weight of so much expectation and worry.
In all fairness, it's not just him that gets this talk off and on. Mari shares the same headache. Not for lack of trying on her end, either. There's just simply no one in the area that has caught her critical eye. The observation makes Yuuri wonder if he was simply too critical in the past and that is why it took him so long to even take that first step towards another person, but deep down he knows that's not the right answer.
Truth be told, he hates thinking about it.
Either way, it's almost ironic that Yuuri has beaten her to it. Even more so that people do know about that part of his life, just not his family.
He wasn't entirely sure what to expect after he and Viktor went public almost a month ago, but for the most part, it's been alright. Of course, there's weirdos who openly speculate about how he and Viktor got together in their comments, ask invasive questions, or argue with other strangers on the internet about things they'll never know, but for the most part Yuuri's gotten good at scrolling past the nonsense. He's not much of an online person, anyway. Not in the way Viktor has to be to maintain both a business and reputation. It's a blessing in disguise these days, though the hype has died down enough to be manageable even with the briefest of social media scrolling.
That's just his end, though. Things are bound to be different for Viktor. But whenever he's asked if things were good on his end regarding everything, Viktor always replied with a firm, “Yup! Everything's good. Don't worry, I can take care of myself.”
Some part of Yuuri has doubts, as he usually does, but he's trying his best to trust that nothing heinous is going on behind the scenes. Viktor would say something if he needed help or support.
At least, Yuuri hopes.
It's not as if either of them are really that good at asking for help...
“And then he catches her hand before she can fall down the stairs! It's quite the meet-cute,” Minako explains to his father. “Real love at first sight. For the young, anyway. I'd be more impressed if they caught me and my stack of papers.”
His father nods along. “Hm, I'll have to give it a watch some time. There's nothing quite as hopeful to watch than young love.”
“Oh, I started watching that one last week,” his mother chimes in. “It is very cute. I'll watch it with you. Her senpai reminds me of how you were back when, down to the silly grin.”
His father blinks in surprise. “Eh? Now I have to see this.”
Yuuri watches as his family debates the inner workings of a fictional relationship, happily smiling along like it's someone they know personally and approve of, and something in him clenches tightly with reckless abandon.
You know what? Fuck it.
“Actually, I have met someone,” he says.
It takes a second for anyone to hear him – but as soon as they do, the room instantly goes quiet.
Minako eyes him, her brow high up, but she sits back and says nothing.
His mother claps her hands together. “Yuuri! Is this true? You've really met someone special?”
“What? Before me?!” Mari exclaims, slamming her empty sake glass onto the table so hard her dishes clang. He buries her face in her hand, groaning. “Oh, great. Now I'll never hear the end of it. Thanks for nothing!”
Minako comforts her with an offhand, “Don't worry. You get used to it.”
“Yuuri, that's wonderful news,” his father praises. He leans over to fill Yuuri's glass in celebration. When was the last time Yuuri saw him this proud? When he graduated school? When he landed his full-time job and moved out to go be an adult in the real world? All big milestones, surely, and this is yet another one. Something about it feels equally exciting and terrible in Yuuri's belly. Especially when the next thing he's asked is, “What's the name of this lovely woman?”
Answers trip up in Yuuri's mouth, all for reasons he's unsure his parents would ever understand. It's supposed to be a simple answer, and yet his smart ass brain rambles, Well, he's not a woman in the way you would likely understand, but sometimes he is, but he's also a man, but sometimes not, and maybe something else entirely. I dunno, it really depends on the day you ask I guess. Does that make sense to you? No? Didn't think so.
Or maybe they would understand, given that their full awareness and acceptance of Yuuri's own... proclivities.
However, that doesn't mean they don't still have their own expectations hardwired into them after a lifetime of constantly reinforced social norms. Yuuri has never discussed his own romantic leanings with them either, preferring to avoid the topic altogether. Mostly because he didn't quite understand them himself. Can you have a preference when none exist?
(Except one preference does exist. Only one. Would that also make sense to them?)
Everyone stares at him, patiently waiting for the answer.
Some things are not his to explain, so Yuuri dodges the truth for what feels more accurate in the moment. He's not ashamed, he could never be, and yet his voice still cracks on the answer. “His name's Viktor.”
Everyone falls quiet again. Back tensing, Yuuri's posture grows stiff. His parents were never openly judgmental types, preferring to keep any of the more critical opinions they may have under tight wraps out of politeness. His friends are queer, and they come around on occasion for the odd get away. His family has never openly had a problem with that. And no matter what they might really think, they've never given him crap for his gender-bending hobby. His mother even helped him make his first crossplay, every stitch and hem in his Goddess Madoka a shared effort. She taught him everything she could about basic sewing, all of which helped carry him this far into his side hustle. If queerness was really a problem, it would have been known by now. His parents would never let him stray too far from the path they wish him to walk, if they thought it would only hurt him in the long run.
But you never know.
Which is why Yuuri can finally breathe again when his mother smiles and breaks the silence with a casual, “Tell us about him. What is he like?”
“... He's tall,” Yuuri starts. “With light hair and blue eyes. He's Russian.”
“Oh, my. Is he handsome?”
“He'd better be if he's with my son,” Toshiya says. “We want the most beautiful grandchildren.”
“That might be a little complicated if they're both guys,” Mari awkwardly points out to him, but her father is a little too tipsy now to really notice or care.
Cheeks warming from embarrassment, Yuuri gives up and digs for his phone. “I'll show you a picture. It's quicker than trying to explain.”
Finding an appropriate picture turns out to be a little awkward, given the majority of them are either a) selfies of a, um, sexy nature, b) cosplay pictures that hide how Viktor normally looks, or c) couple pictures of the two of them that Yuuri finds a little too personal to share. His family have never seen him in a romantic context, and it's something he still struggles to be open with, even online with strangers. Better to slowly ease that in for both their sake.
For that reason, Yuuri picks one of his old favourites, the same one he introduced Minako with. Viktor and Makkachin out at a park in the summer, the two of them happy and relaxed in the sun. It's impossible not to be charmed by it.
Everyone leans across the table to get a closer look at his phone.
“Wait, he has a poodle?” Mari asks, tone edging into suspicion.
Yuuri nods. “Her name's Makkachin.”
His mother gasps. “Oh! How sweet. I'll have to knit her a sweater, too!”
“Okaasan...”
“Russian's are a rugged people, but he doesn't strike me as such. Does he like sports?” his father asks. “He looks tall enough for American football.”
Yuuri makes a small face. “Sorry. No sports. It's the opposite, actually.”
“He's a huge nerd,” Minako interjects. “Just like our little Yuuri-chan.”
Like a light bulb, suddenly everyone in the room understands.
His mother smiles. “Aaaah. I see. Like Yuuri.”
Mari snickers. “Oh, yeah? Where's his make-up, then? And don't tell me he's better at make-up than me, too. I might have to throw myself off a bridge if there's two boys who can beat me at this girl shit.”
Yuuri stares flatly at her across the table, refusing to take the easy bait.
“... Wait. You said his name's Viktor? Huh.” Mari cups her chin between her thumb and forefinger and hums at the ceiling. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
Yuuri freezes. Oh, no.
“It does sound familiar,” his mother agrees her. “He looks like someone I have met before. Have we met him?”
Yuuri shakes his head so fast his head could fly off into space. “Nope! Never!”
“Are you sure?” Eyes narrowing, Mari swipes Yuuri's phone before he can block her hand and starts scrolling through his photo gallery. She leans far enough back to avoid Yuuri's panicked hand trying to steal it back. “I swear I've seen that face before. Where have – AGH!”
Their parents give Mari a strange look at the strangled noise she makes, but she declines to explain, instead thrusting the phone back at Yuuri. “Not interested anymore!” she rushes out, her face beet red.
That's what you get, Yuuri thinks, equally red and mortified.
(Thank God the worst offending photos are in a different section of his photo gallery.)
Coughing in order to disguise her laugh, Minako moves the conversation forward. “So, when exactly do we get to meet this special person? You have been dating him for a while now... Five months, by my recollection.”
Mari's jaw drops at the same time as their parent's faces fall.
All at once, Yuuri feels like a royal fuck up for not saying something earlier.
“Um. I'm not sure.” He quickly explains, “He lives in another state. It's a long-distance relationship. It's not exactly that simple.”
His father nods in understanding. “How did you two meet, then?”
A quick montage of way too many events leading up to now flashes in Yuuri's mind, too quick to catch. There's no way he's telling them half of it, not if he wants to be able to face everyone after this. “The internet,” he says. The implications of that hit him a second later. He rushes out another, “But, um, we have met in person several times. He is real. And not dangerous. I can assure you of that.”
His mother hums in consideration. “I suppose that is common these days.”
“Wow. I don't know if I could do that,” Mari says, a touch flippantly. “Aren't you lonely most of the time?”
He knows this one isn't meant to be bait, and yet Yuuri feels baited all the same. He refuses to reply, but it takes biting down on his tongue not to do so. Oh, how easy it would be to throw back, “At least my love interest exists in person and not on a poster in my bedroom.”
Except... that one could absolutely backfire, if Mari is already catching on, so Yuuri wisely keeps that to himself.
“Love finds a way,” his mother offers as a soothing balm to the tense mood. “If we can, I would like to meet him one day.”
“Yes,” his father agrees, “I need to see what sort of special person finally caught our son's eye. He must really be someone worthwhile to get your attention.”
“I'd like that,” Yuuri agrees. “I don't know when, but I'll try and arrange for it some time.”
“Who knows!” his mother says, a twinkle in her eye. “Maybe there will come a day where Mari will find someone, and we can all gather together! I hope that day is soon. Maybe for the holidays?”
Mari just rolls her eye and excuses herself for her usual post-dinner smoke.
Ha. Karma, Yuuri thinks to himself, even if the payback isn't quite that satisfying.
-
After dinner, the living room lights are dimmed, and his mother carries in a homemade lemon cake. Atop the surface stand two candles, a two and a five, and their tiny flames light up the room with a warm, hopeful glow. Everyone sings along, even Vicchan, who yips excitedly along. They sing all the way to the cake being set down on the table before Yuuri, and then the room goes quiet with anticipation.
“Make a wish!” Minako cheers, words slurring into each other. How many drinks has she had? Yuuri stopped counting long ago.
“Make a good wish,” Mari clarifies like the older sister she is.
Yuuri ignores her in favour of getting this one right.
Most of his wishes in the past have all been the same – mostly because he's only ever wanted one thing for a long time now – but now that his heart's desire has finally been fulfilled, he has a new wish in his heart.
Eyes closed, he prays with all his might.
Please let my family and Viktor meet.
With those words silently whispered in his head, Yuuri leans forward and blows the candles out.
Maybe they're a few days early, but hopefully it still counts.
-
It's late when Yuuri and Vicchan finally retire for the night. Thankfully, it's Saturday. With nowhere to be until tomorrow evening, Yuuri fully plans on sleeping in and enjoying his day off before he has to make the drive back home. He checks his phone – just in case – and tries his best to ignore the clenching in his stomach at the lack of text messages waiting for him. The last he heard from Viktor was around lunch time, many hours ago now...
Viktor's busy these days. That's all.
He's settling in his childhood bed for the night, Vicchan already half asleep, when Yuuri hears a small knock at the door.
“Come in!” he calls.
The door opens, and his mother steps inside.
“I wanted to make sure you had everything you needed,” she says. “Is your bed still comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Is it warm enough?”
“It is.”
“Are you still hungry at all – ”
“Okasaan,” Yuuri sighs, but it's out of love. “I'm alright.”
“I see. Then, I will see you in the morning.” She goes to step back out, but something in Yuuri's room catches her eye. Yuuri's not sure what she's looking at, given his walls are covered in old pictures he printed out as a teenager. Lots of them are video game and anime characters he wanted to dress up as – some of which he actually did – but there's just as many pictures of a certain other cosplayer mixed in, wearing his older costumes...
Actually, there's a lot of them, if he's being honest. Almost to a creepy extent.
Most of them are not that great by current standards. In the oldest pictures, the unfortunate shine of old wigs and cheap fabric glare at you even on matte printer paper. But there's just as many pictures that show Viktor's progress over the years, up until his sudden disappearance from the internet. In all of them, he is young and fresh-faced. In this way, Yuuri's bedroom is almost like a time capsule of an age come and gone. It can feel strange to be in here sometimes, knowing he's outgrown it in more ways than one, but it's also comforting as well, knowing this place still exists even when he isn't here. Preserved despite time and distance.
Yuuri looks at the wall his mother is staring at, a strange feeling growing in his belly. What is she looking at so intensely? He can't tell, when his wall is more or less a giant montage of teenage obsession. Did something happen to the wall itself? Or did someone catch her eye?
“What is it?” he dares to ask.
His mother blinks, and then she smiles at him. “It's nothing. Good night, Yuuri. I will see you in the morning.”
Yuuri waits until he hears his mother's footsteps disappear down the hall before lying down, though he's suddenly far too awake to sleep now.
There's no way she knows... right?
-
Viktor ❤:
Hey! I hope your trip back to your folk's place is going well!
I miss yooouuuu
And Makkachin misses you, too
Sorry I didn't see your messages until now...
I'll talk to you in the morning?