Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ekaterina Ana-Maria Abelashvili or “Ketty” as most people knew her as was a mess of a person. At 22 she had gotten pregnant. At 25 she was dying. By 26 she would be six feet under. She didn’t care about those last two things. They didn’t scare her.

Asking the father of her daughter for help was scary. Telling the father of her daughter he had a daughter was scary. Ketty almost wishes her death would come faster, but before she could rest her weary head she had to make sure that someone would love her daughter for her. Ketty knew first hand how painful it was to lose the love of one’s parents. She didn’t want her daughter to ever experience that.

Ketty tells herself that she should just tell him, but she’s afraid of putting that sort of responsibility on Yuuri. Yuuri has always been an anxious mess—Ketty knows this from experience and from Cami’s non-stop complaints after Yuuri had snubbed her. (Cami was a friend of a friend and while Ketty had liked the girl well enough, she had also felt uncomfortable with the girl’s forwardness. Ketty didn’t suffer from the same kind of anxiety Yuuri did, but they had similar feelings about social interactions. And well, Ketty had suggested on multiple occasions that Cami shouldn’t push Yuuri too hard, but when Cami set her mind on something she didn’t back down).

Ketty had thought about telling Yuuri after Phichit contacted her out of the blue, asking if she would be willing to help Yuuri redo the demo she had made from him all those years ago. She had replied with an immediate and enthused yes because really, that thing was not her best work and she felt like she had failed Yuuri in someway. He had tried to make it up to her when it was rejected but they were a pair of socially awkward, introverted artists that had the bad habit of overthinking everything. Remembering that cringe-worthy interaction, Ketty didn’t think it would be a good idea to open up with: “Hi Yuuri, you remember that night where we were both kinda drunk and came to the conclusion that we should lose our virginity together? (I admit, not our smartest decision.) Well, surprise, here’s your daughter! She just turned three!”

Oh god, she was the worst. How would Yuuri react to that? Did it even matter if Yuuri knew or not? It wasn’t like she was going to--Ketty drops her head into her hands. Right. Life sucked.

“Mama?”

Ketty tries her hardest to hold back her tears. “Yeah, baby girl?” She replies, raising her head to look at her daughter. It always startled her just how much Yuuri there was reflected in that little body and how little of her she saw in those large brown eyes.

“Can we watch Daddy on the televee?”

Ketty laughs and pulls her daughter close. “Of course. Let’s cheer for him when he competes tomorrow too!” Tomorrow she will tell Yuuri. She’s not exactly sure how she’s going to do it, but she’s going to do it. She needs to do it.

—

Telling Yuuri is just as awkward and as cringeworthy as Ketty expects it to be. She spends a good twenty to thirty minutes just apologizing, trying to convince Yuuri (and herself) that she wasn’t expecting anything from him. They get into a ridiculous argument and even though Ketty knows she’s just sabotaging herself at this point, she can’t stop. And now she’s apologizing (again) for ruining Yuuri’s Grand Prix finale with something as insignificant as Ketty’s anxiety about her future and the future of her daughter.

“Ketty, let me come meet you.” Yuuri insists. He’s obviously annoyed and Ketty wishes she could just run away from this conversation. She’s pretty sure Yuuri wants to do the same.

“But — ”

“It’ll be easier to talk about this in person.” Yuuri doesn’t leave much room for argument, but, really, Ketty doesn’t know if she’s mentally or emotionally prepared enough for this. “Ketty, I want to meet her.” Yuuri says gently.

Ketty can tell that Yuuri is genuinely interested in their daughter. She knows that Yuuri has a very high sense of responsibility. She knows how kind Yuuri is. This doesn’t stop her from questioning his motives. It doesn’t stop her from questioning hers either.

She takes a deep breath. “Okay.” She agrees. “Okay. Tell me when.”

—

Hi Yuuri, this is Vivi--I mean Maria-Victoria. I named her after my grandmother. BTW I’m also dying, so like, will you take care of her when I’m gone? Ketty thinks it’s a bit much. Maybe she’ll take out the dying part. Ketty has already accepted it. She hadn’t really thought about living past twenty before (she was pretty morbid as a kid and always believed she would die at the ripe old age of twenty-one, but Yuuri didn’t need that information), yet here she was at twenty-five. She’d be gone soon though, so maybe her childhood self was right in some aspects.

Okay, that was a bad train of thought.

“Ketty?”

Ketty jumps when she hears her name—she has not sufficiently prepared herself for this moment. But Vivi shoots passed her screaming “Daddy!” before Ketty can even turn and respond. In hindsight, she should have probably warned Yuuri about that—the screaming and full-body tackling—because Yuuri is now sprawled out on the concrete short of breath, with the full weight of an overly excited three year old on his chest.

“I am so sorry, Yuuri! Vivi! You can’t just tackle people like that!” Ketty scolds, lifting Vivi off Yuuri. She helps him up.  

“But he’s not people. He’s my daddy!” Vivi argues, squirming her way out of Ketty’s arms. She latches onto Yuuri’s leg.

“Um, right.” How to respond? Ketty’s too overwhelmed to think properly.

Yuuri just laughs and ruffles Vivi’s hair affectionately. Ketty feels her heart squeeze uncomfortably in her chest.

“Hi, Vivi, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He says. Vivi looks up at him with glowing eyes. Ketty’s pretty sure if Vivi smiles any wider her face might split. 

“Yes,” Vivi whispers. “I finally have a daddy!” She squeals. “Yay!” Ketty doesn’t think she’ll be able unlatch Vivi from Yuuri’s leg.

“Um, you know, Vivi, I think Daddy would love it if you could find him one of those nice rocks you always give Mommy. Why don’t you see if you can find some in the playground?” Ketty suggests.

Vivi’s swivels her head to look at Yuuri. “Daddy, do you like rocks?” She asks.

“Uh, yes?” Yuuri answers. Vivi immediately lets go and darts off.

“I’ll find you the best rock ever!” She yells, diving into the grass.

Ketty knows that they’ll probably have five minutes at most before Vivi charges back in so she immediately blurts out everything she needs Yuuri to know. It doesn’t go exactly like how Ketty practiced, but at least she managed not to bite her tongue.

Yuuri’s expression shifts from shocked and surprised to worried.

Oh fuck, Ketty! You weren’t supposed to open with the “I’m dying!” Ketty mentally slaps herself.

“How long have you known?” Yuuri asks her.

Ketty bites her bottom lip as she answers. “A little over half a year,” She admits.

“You should have told me before—about Vivi, about…” Yuuri trails off.

“I know.” Ketty replies. “I just, I didn’t want you--I didn’t know...I thought I could do this on my own.” Ketty knows that Yuuri understands (they are cut from the same cloth after all), so she’s relieved that Yuuri chooses not to press her on this.

“Does Vivi know? Have you talked to her about it?”

“Yes. Whether she understands or not...My treatment is going well so I have at least a year on me...”

“Mommy! Daddy! Look at all these rocks!” Vivi squeezes between them, pebbles tumbling from her hands. She holds them up for Yuuri, who accepts them with a smile.

Ketty feels hot tears welling in her eyes, but holds them back. All in all their first meeting goes well.

 —

The next time they meet Yuuri brings Viktor. The Russian is as handsome and as charismatic as Ketty expects. She nearly faints when Viktor greets her with a kiss on the hand. Vivi falls in love with him immediately. She tells everyone at the playground how she has not one but two daddies. She declares it the best day ever.

“Planning your own funeral is ridiculously difficult.” Ketty blurts out. “Why is it so expensive? Why are there packaged bundles? Buy a casket and get thirty-percent off your plot?” She’s joking. It’s morbid and dark, but Ketty doesn’t know how else to face it.

Yuuri understands though, because Ketty can tell that he is holding back his laughter when she shows him the funeral home website. “Ketty, that's a bit much.”

“Sorry, I got distracted. What was I doing?”

Yuuri wants to help. Ketty doesn’t want him to. She doesn’t want to pull him away from his career, from his life. She doesn’t want him to drop everything for her; she just needs to know that Vivi will be taken care of when she’s gone. But Yuuri doesn’t want that. He wants to be there for her, for Vivi.

 "Viktor and I want to help you every step of the way. So please, Ketty, let us do this.”

 “I'm afraid that things will get ugly towards the end, I don't want to burden you like that.”

In the end, Yuuri’s stubbornness wins out. That and Ketty is now formally hospitalized long-term so she really can’t argue with him about whether or not she needs his help. She needs his help.  

Ketty relinquishes the lease on her small one bedroom apartment. She helps move Vivi in with Yuuri and Viktor. She cries for a good three hours in the bathroom while Viktor distracts Vivi with a trip to get ice cream and Yuuri comforts her by leaving her alone to wallow in her despair (he sits by the bathroom door until Ketty finally feels better).

Ketty sells her piano, because she needs the money but keeps her violin to give to her daughter. She writes letters and records videos and tries to finish her compositions before her body truly fails her. 

Yuuri attends every chemo-session, every doctor appointment. He stays with her in the hospital when he can even though Ketty insists she’s fine. Viktor keeps her updated on Vivi’s daily life through photos and videos (because Yuuri is terrible at things like that). All in all, Ketty thinks she’s pretty lucky. So what if her parents disinherited her after catching her canoodling with a girl? Her grandmother had welcomed her into her home in a heartbeat and loved her unconditionally. So what if she was dying? At least she wasn’t alone. Her life was pretty satisfying considering she was only twenty-five.

The piece she crafted for Yuuri had sparked interest in her work. Her compositions weren’t rotting away in her desk and she had been asked for some new pieces. It was difficult balancing all that with everything else going on in her life, but she was managing it (even if it was through sheer force of will at this point). Ketty is thankful for the work Yuuri brought her because at least now she has some way of providing for her daughter even after she has gone. 

Vivi visits her twice a week, though towards the end she comes everyday. Somehow Ketty manages to see her daughter turn four. They have a birthday party in the hospital. Ketty is so happy and so grateful to witness this moment. Vivi is four years old and looks more and more like Yuuri with each passing year, but now Ketty can see a little of herself in Vivi’s caramel eyes. She sees a little of herself in the way Vivi thinks.

Ketty was by no means a perfect mother but she did her best. She hopes that Vivi will remember her as a good mother. She hopes that Yuuri will remember her as a dear friend. She hopes that Viktor will continue loving Vivi and Yuuri with all his heart.

Ketty passes away in the summer, just shy of her 27th birthday. She’s alone when she goes, but that’s how she always imagined it so it doesn’t bother her. She’s glad, because she’s not sure if she can handle the awkwardness of people waiting in the room while she dies.

Her funeral is small and simple.

Vivi cries, because even though she grasps the concept of death, she doesn’t quite understand it. Yuuri cries, because he doesn’t know how else to express his grief. Even Viktor cries. He’s only known Ketty for a little over a year, but that doesn’t stop him from mourning the loss of a good person.

Ekaterina Ana-Maria Abelashvili  or “Ketty” as most people knew her as was a mess of a person. At 22 she had gotten pregnant. At 25 she was dying. At 26 she is six feet under. And really, those last two things weren’t scary at all, because her daughter would never have to question whether or not her parents loved her.

Chapter Text

Ketty was his first friend in the US. Yuuri isn't sure how they become friends—it just happens out of the blue. Some friendships are like that he supposes.  

It probably helped that Ketty knew Japanese. She didn't speak it well, but was great at understanding, which was more than enough for Yuuri to feel comfortable. Ketty had shown him all the great Japanese restaurants in the area. (They were nothing like home, but they were better than nothing). And Yuuri appreciated her frankness and her cheerfulness. It made the transition from Hasetsu to Detroit easier on him.

After Phichit’s arrival to the States, they didn’t hang out as much except for the occasional lunch meet-up. Even if they hadn’t talked in weeks, or only exchanged quick greetings over the course of several months, Yuuri never felt anxious or awkward about accepting Ketty’s invitation to eat and he never felt anxious or awkward asking Ketty to hang out (which he mostly did when he wanted to escape Phichit’s ‘events’).

Yuuri liked the lack of pressure or expectations that came with Ketty’s friendship. (But that did not stop him from feeling utterly terrible about not using Ketty’s demo for his programs that one year. Even though Ketty had put so much effort into composing a piece for him, he had balked at using it. It was such a waste. He was such a failure).

Having sex with Ketty came naturally (or as naturally as two drunk people deciding to have sex could be). Did Yuuri regret it? Not really. Did Yuuri feel incredibly awkward around Ketty after it? Kind of. But the uncertainty surrounding their status as friends or something more was soon forgotten. Ketty graduated from the conservatory and Yuuri devoted more time to his training.

Everything from that point on happened in a whirlwind. His anxiousness about his career imbued Yuuri with fear and restlessness that could only be calmed by dedicating even more effort to his training. Yuuri barely had enough time to keep in contact with his family, much less Ketty. The only person in Yuuri’s life who he had enough time for was Phichit and that was only because he lived with the Thai skater. (Thank god Phichit was in his life, or Yuuri would have probably spent that fourth year just commuting between his apartment and the ice rink).

When he received that phone call from Ketty, Yuuri knew it was important. He knew the effort she had gone through to make it (he had gone through a similar process when he had asked her to redo the demo), and had decided to help in whatever way Ketty needed him to help. It didn’t matter that their last conversation was several months ago and they only talked about his FS song. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t had contact with each other in over three years. Ketty was still his friend and Yuuri would be forever grateful for Ketty’s role in his life, no matter how small.

“Congratulations Yuuri! I watched your performance! It was beautiful.” Ketty’s voice was cheerful, with just a hint of a nervous tremor.

“Thanks, Ketty. I couldn’t have done it without you though. Thank you for re-composing the demo on such short notice.” Yuuri answered, smiling into his phone.

Ketty laughs on the other end of the line, “How could I say no? The first edition wasn’t the best…”

Yuuri wants to tell her is was perfect. It perfectly represented his lackluster career (really, what did had he expected?) and it wasn’t Ketty’s fault that he didn’t use it; it was his. But Ketty spoke again, her voice softer and more uncertain.

“Yuuri, I know it’s sudden and I know this isn’t probably the best time, but if I didn’t call you now, I would have kept chickening out of it.”

“Ketty?”

“Yuuri, that night...that night we had se—spent together. Ah, fuck, I mean no. I mean—I’m pregnant—I got pregnant. Not pregnant now. Shit. Wait, let me rephrase that: You have a daughter. She’s three. I got pregnant after we slept together. I’m sorry I never told you—I didn’t—I mean…”

Yuuri doesn’t really hear what Ketty says after that. He’s in shock. From the corner of his eye, he notices Viktor looking at him. He hopes that his expression doesn’t betray too much because he needs time to digest this information. Luckily, Viktor is busy with the press.

“Ketty,” He interrupts, “Ketty, I want to meet her.”

It takes him a good thirty minutes to get Ketty to agree. This is probably how Viktor feels when dealing with me sometimes. Yuuri thinks to himself. Ketty relents and Yuuri promises to call her again after everything has calmed down to discuss the details. After Ketty hangs up, Yuuri scrounges up the courage to ask for some pictures via messaging.

He’s curious. Did his daughter look like him? Why did Ketty name her Maria-Victoria? Yuuri wanted to know what he had missed.  

Ketty sends him a few pictures of Vivi. She sends him one where Vivi is only a few months old and incredibly chubby (She was nine pounds 3 oz when she was born!!!) is the caption underneath. There’s another one that Yuuri likes a lot. Vivi is older in this picture, and wearing  little piggy pajamas. Her face is scrunched and her eyes are crinkled as she smiles for the camera. (I don’t know why she smiles like she’s in pain...) Ketty writes. The more recent ones are even cuter. There’s pictures of Vivi holding a toddler sized violin. Of Vivi tearing into a chocolate cake with an intensity too ferocious to be considered normal for a three year old.

He’s so engrossed in the pictures, he doesn’t see Viktor cross the lobby towards him. The hoard of reporters that had followed them from the performance venue to the hotel had dispersed and the other skaters were already making their ways back to their rooms to rest.

“Oh, what a cute baby!” Viktor leans over Yuuri’s shoulders, his arms snaking around Yuuri’s waist. “Is it one of your friend’s?” He asks.

“No. She’s mine.” Yuuri answers without thinking. “She’s my daughter.” Yuuri repeats, as he scrolls through the pictures.

Viktor chuckles in his ear, “She’s cute.” He teases.

Yuuri pauses his scrolling to look up at Viktor. He has to shift a bit to accommodate Viktor’s unwillingness to let go of him, but that’s okay. “No, Viktor. She’s mine.” He repeats again. “This is my daughter. She’s three now. Her name is Maria-Victoria, but she goes by Vivi. She was 9lbs 3oz when she was born on October 15.”

Viktor’s arms tighten around his waist. Yuuri can tell Viktor doesn’t know what to say or how to react. Maybe he’s confused by how matter-of-fact Yuuri is.

“I found out today.” Yuuri adds in a whisper. He realizes that this is probably not the best way to tell Viktor. (But considering everything that has happened over the last twenty-four hours, Yuuri thinks it’s rather fitting.) He watches Viktor carefully, already preparing for the worst. He doesn’t know what Viktor is thinking, or what Viktor wants to say, or what will change between them and it’s scary. It’s scary, but Yuuri has already made up his mind regarding Ketty and Vivi. It’s scary, but Yuuri hopes (oh god he hopes) that Viktor won’t leave him for this.

Viktor does something Yuuri doesn’t expect: he pulls him into a hug. “Well, I’ve always loved surprises.” He laughs lightly. “You’re going to have to tell me the story behind this one.”

Yuuri melts into his touch and holds onto him tightly. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

—

Yuuri and Viktor move to St. Petersburg immediately after the Grand Prix. Training is intense and most days Yuuri can barely drag himself back to Viktor’s apartment. But the change pays off.

He wins gold at Nationals and the Four Continents. He wins silver at Worlds. Viktor makes a splash with his return by winning gold at Russian Nationals and the European Championships. They tie for silver at Worlds. JJ wins the gold there. Less than a point separates them.

Ketty sends him pictures and videos of Vivi on a near daily basis. Yuuri finds himself looking at them before his performances. It becomes a calming ritual. Yuuri never considered starting a family before—he was always too focused on figure skating to think about that—but now he finds himself thinking about it a lot. He’s looking forward to meeting Vivi. He wants to be a part of her life.

Would Viktor be okay with that? Yuuri isn’t sure. Since moving to Russia, they haven’t really had time to actually talk about Ketty or Vivi. When May rolls around and Yuuri finds himself with a short break, he flies to Detroit. Alone.

Viktor was supposed to go with him, but Yakov forces him to stay behind to “straighten everything out”. It’s nerve wracking but exciting and reminds Yuuri of his usual pre-competition jitters. He’s a little glad that Viktor isn’t with him. Yuuri thinks that Viktor would probably make his anxiety sky rocket.

Ketty is different from how Yuuri remembers her. He doesn’t even need to ask how she’s doing because he can already tell. Ketty is not well. He calls out to her uncertainly. He doesn’t want to believe that the Ketty just in front of him is the Ketty that used to drag him across Detroit to try new restaurants. This Ketty seemed ready to collapse—like even the slightest breeze would shatter her.

“Daddy!”

The sky is bright blue. The color shocks him out of his thoughts; it’s similar to the color of Viktor’s eyes. Yuuri can’t breathe--he can barely hear Ketty’s voice over the ringing in his ears.

“Hi Vivi, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He can’t help the grin spreading across his face.

“Yes,” Vivi whispers. “I finally have a daddy!” She squeals as she latches onto Yuuri’s leg. “Yay!” Yuuri doesn’t think he’ll be able to pry her off. He doesn’t want to.

—

Yuuri decides to move back to Detroit and make DSC his home rink again even though he and Viktor had already painstakingly planned out their next year. But Yuuri knows that if he doesn’t do this he will not be able to live with himself. It isn’t a difficult decision.

Ketty is his friend—perhaps the only friend he had outside of figure skating. Even though they hadn’t kept in contact over the last three years (which was mostly Yuuri’s fault), she was still his friend. She was his friend and she was dying and she was asking for help. Yuuri couldn’t turn her away. He wouldn’t.

Yuuri is nervous about telling Viktor. He doesn’t want to be more of a burden than he already is. Ketty had been an important part of most of his life in Detroit and he wouldn’t abandon her now—he had already done that, hadn’t he? It wasn’t fair to Viktor, but Yuuri doesn’t know what else to do.

“What?” Viktor doesn't look surprised at Yuuri’s decision, though his inflection is slightly shocked.

“I’m sorry Viktor, I know we planned to stay in St. Petersburg, but I can’t abandon her now.” Yuuri replies, voice firm.

“Yuuri, do you really think so little of me?” Viktor sighs as he levels his gaze onto Yuuri.

“Huh?”

Viktor runs his hand through his hair and sighs again. “I admit, I am a little jealous. After all, she knows you in ways I don’t, but I’m not petty or shallow enough to let you go through this alone. I want to help.”

“Viktor…”

“Vivi will be our daughter. We’ll help Ketty together.” Viktor says firmly as he takes Yuuri’s hands into his. “Together.” He repeats.

Yuuri wonders what he ever did to have Viktor in his life.

—

It’s hard to watch someone die. Yuuri does his best to support Ketty, but sometimes he wonders if he’s more of a burden than a help. Ketty almost always knows when those thoughts appear in his head and scolds him for it.

“I will stab you with my IV if you keep thinking like that.” She threatens. “I’m thankful that you’re here with me Yuuri. I’m grateful for you and Viktor for helping me. Please don’t ever doubt how much you being here means to me.” Her voice softens and she gives him a small uncertain smile.

Yuuri knows that sometimes Ketty feels guilty about putting so much stress on him. He sees it in the way Ketty insists she’s okay or how she tries to strong arm him into going home instead of staying at the hospital. He knows how hard it is for Ketty to say those words to him—he’s familiar with that feeling of guilt and sense of doubt.

“I’m glad I’m here.” Yuuri tells her gently. “I—”

Ketty cuts him off, “Yuuri Katsuki, don’t be silly.” She smiles. “I already know.”

It’s difficult balancing training with being there for Ketty, but somehow Yuuri manages to do it without breaking down. The Olympics brings Yuuri and Viktor back to Japan with Vivi in tow. Ketty insists on it, saying it was a good opportunity for her to meet Yuuri’s family. She brushes off Yuuri’s concerns, cheerfully telling him there really wasn’t a difference between her dying now or tomorrow because she was going to die. That was a fact and it shouldn’t stop him.

Yuuri takes gold at the Olympics. Viktor, silver.

—

Ketty takes a turn for the worse when they return to Detroit. The doctors warn them that her time is running out. That they should prepare for the worst (as though they hadn’t been preparing for it over the last year). Somehow though, Ketty manages to hold out longer than the doctors predict.

She sees Yuuri win the Grand Prix Finals with her compositions, Victoria for his short program and Esperanza for his free skate. She sees Yuuri take Nationals and the Four Continents by storm. She sees Yuuri win gold after gold after gold. This is Yuuri’s way of thanking her. This is the only way Yuuri knows how to express his feelings.

—

Yuuri is making breakfast when he receives the call from the hospital. He’s crying before he can even answer because he knows. He knows. Viktor takes the phone from him gently before pulling Yuuri into his arms. He doesn’t say anything, just lets Yuuri hold onto him.

They tell Vivi together. Yuuri holds her close and tells her how much he loves her. He tells her how much Ketty loves her. Vivi clings to him and cries. Yuuri cries with her. Viktor holds them both close and cries with them.

—

They move back to St. Petersburg with Vivi after everything is all said and done. It’s difficult. Vivi is so young and even though she tries hard to be mature—to be a ‘big girl’—she is barely five years old. Yuuri will be turning 26 soon. This will be his final year competing. Viktor has already retired, his body can’t handle another season. Yuuri is looking forward to his final season. He is looking forward to what will come after; to spending more time with Vivi. He wants to give her his full undivided attention.

“Daddy, good luck kiss!” Vivi leans over the rink barrier and plants a chaste kiss on Yuuri’s cheeks.

“Me too! Me too!” Viktor leans over to give Yuuri kisses as well, smothering Vivi between the two of them.

“Papa! I can’t breathe!”

“Oops! Sorry Solnyshko!”

Yuuri doesn’t break Viktor’s record golds, but that’s okay. What’s waiting for him at the end of his career isn’t as frightening anymore.

And Yuuri Katsuki, olympic champion, sets a new world record! He breaks his previous FS score by a full six points and smashes through Yuri Plisetsky’s SP record! We are watching history in the making ladies and gentleman! Yuuri Katsuki has performed flawlessly over the last few days and takes his second gold at the Grand Prix Finals!

Yuuri likes to think it all began and ended with Ketty. Even though her role in his life had been small, she had sent ripples through it that grew into waves, culminating with Yuuri standing here, on the highest block of the podium, kissing gold while the two loves of his life cheered from the stands.

Chapter Text

The past twenty-four hours in Barcelona was a rollercoaster of a ride. Viktor wants to laugh and cry because of course it would be. He doesn’t know why he thought life off the ice would be simpler.

Life with Yuuri has been everything but simple. At every turn Viktor had been thrown off, surprised—Yuuri didn’t act in expected ways. Yuuri wasn’t what he had expected at all. Yuuri could break Viktor’s heart and mend it in the same breath. Yuuri was endearingly shy and incredibly stubborn. He was bold in unexpected situations but would also turn tail and bolt in a heartbeat.

So considering everything that’s happened since Viktor arrived in Hasetsu and between Yuuri’s not-proposal proposal and Yuuri’s declaration that he wanted to stay by Viktor’s side, Viktor wasn’t as shocked as he should have been about the fact that Yuuri had a daughter. Viktor had long accepted the fact that Yuuri had a way of surprising him that was beyond normal understanding. Besides Yuuri’s daughter was cute and Viktor was a sucker for cute things.

She resembles Yuuri a lot. He can see it even through pictures. It was the way her dark eyes shone, the roundness of her cheeks, the set of her nose, the way her brows furrowed. Her laughing face, her crying face. If she didn’t have her mother’s complexion, Viktor would have assumed those pictures were of little baby Yuuri.

Yuuri shyly shares these pictures with him, as though he is afraid of scaring Viktor off (but Viktor has never been anything less than over the top ecstatic every time). Viktor loves those pictures. He loves the way Yuuri’s eyes would soften when looking at them; the way Yuuri’s voice seemed gentler as he read off Ketty’s stories behind each photo. He doesn’t offer up much information about Ketty and Viktor doesn’t push for any knowing that Yuuri will tell him when he’s ready to.

The time never really comes. They move to St. Petersburg just weeks ahead of Nationals. Yuuri is too engrossed in his training to talk and Viktor is too focused on making his comeback to ask. The only peaceful moment they have with each other is when they both collapse into bed at the end of the day, having only gone through the motions of dinner. They’re always out before their heads hit the pillows.

Nationals come and go. The Four Continents come and go. European Championships come and go. Worlds arrive as quickly as it leaves, and suddenly Yuuri is boarding a plane to Detroit while Viktor is stuck in St. Petersburg with Yakov.

Viktor finds it unfair, especially since he performed so well at Nationals and European Championships.

“No excuses Vitya,” Yakov grunts at him. “You need to straighten things out first.”

Viktor is helpless as he sends Yuuri off with hugs and kisses. Yuuri accepts them in his bashful way and holds on to Viktor a little longer than normal, as though hoping to draw from Viktor’s seemingly endless reserves of confidence.

—

When Viktor finally meets Ketty he immediately understands Yuuri’s determination to help her. Ketty is so similar to Yuuri it almost gives Viktor whiplash—they share the same stubbornness and vulnerability in the way they approached the world. The only difference between the two was that Ketty seemed to understand herself in a way that Yuuri continued to struggle with. She had a strong sense of self that was apparent in the way she carried herself, and even though Viktor knew she was nervous, he could sense nothing but calm confidence and acceptance from her.

Viktor’s first thought is that she is beautiful. There is something about Ketty that Viktor finds utterly entrancing. It’s her eyes, he thinks. They are dark and clear and held an intensity that reminded him a bit of Lillia. Ketty’s eyes seemed to pierce and see through him. She and Yuuri must have been quite the pair, he muses. Because sometimes, Yuuri would have that same glow in his eyes; that intensity and clarity that made Viktor shiver.

“Ketty, this is Viktor. Viktor, Ketty. She’s the one who composed the free skate music.”  Yuuri introduces them.

Oh. Oh. Everything becomes clear.

“Thank you.” Ketty shakes his hand. Her grip is weak and her touch cold, but Viktor feels her strength and her warmth.

“Your composition was amazing.” He praises, sincerely meaning every word.

Ketty bites her lower lip and ducks her head in a shy attempt to avoid looking directly at Viktor. “Oh, no. It was nothing.” She waves away the compliment. “I just wanted to—I mean, the original one I had composed was really not my best.”

Viktor smiles as he catches her hand and kisses the top of it. “You captured Yuuri beautifully in your music. Thank you.”

Her reaction is so similar to what Yuuri’s would have been that Viktor finds himself tempted to tease her some more. But Yuuri intervenes with a stern, “Don’t tease her like that, Viktor” so Viktor pulls away. He turns his attention to the child hiding behind Ketty’s leg.

“Hi~” He crouches down and greets her. The little girl peeks out at him and Viktor is hit by how much she reminds him of Yuuri. From the color of her eyes to the arch of her brows, to the way her nose curved and her cupid's bow mouth. It was like looking at a younger, more delicate Yuuri. “My name is Viktor, and I guess you could say I’m your other daddy.”

Vivi’s eyes widen in surprise. She tugs at Ketty’s jacket and asks, voice in a hushed whisper, “I have two daddies?”

Ketty smiles and nods, though her brows are furrowed in uncertainty. But that is enough for Vivi who squeals and launches herself at Viktor, knocking him back onto the concrete. “Yes! I get two daddies! Best. Day. Ever!” If possible, Vivi hugs Viktor tighter. “Can I call you Papa?”

Viktor’s heart melts.

And by the time Vivi finishes parading him around the playground and introducing him as her papa, Viktor knows he’s in it for the long run. Viktor, who has never thought much about life beyond the ice until Yuuri, finds himself utterly enthralled by the prospect of life off the ice.

—

Viktor doesn’t care how difficult it will be to train in Detroit while taking care of Vivi and helping Ketty. He’s carefree like that. Yuuri, however, is overly anxious about everything—from what to feed Vivi, to who will watch Vivi while they train, to when will they have time to visit Ketty.  He flits about their rented home, putting final touches to decor and wiping down already pristine surfaces as they wait for Ketty and Vivi to arrive.

Everything Ketty has sent over has been unpacked and organized, but Yuuri doubles and triples checks the list, muttering the items off it like a spell. (It does nothing to ease his nervousness.)

“What if Vivi hates this house?” Yuuri asks, his voice pitching in horror. “What if Ketty hates it?”

“Yuuri, Vivi and Ketty have already been to the house.” Viktor reminds him. Yuuri ignores him as he checks the contents of their kitchen cabinets and refrigerator.

“Do we have enough food? What does a three year old eat? Can they drink protein shakes—no, what am I saying, of course they can’t! They need a balanced diet.” Yuuri slams the fridge door shut. “Oh no, what if we forget to meal plan and she starves?”

“Yuuri, we’re not going to forget to feed our daughter.” Viktor answers, but Yuuri isn’t paying attention. He’s back in the living room fluffing up pillows and reorganizing books on the coffee table.

Viktor shifts awkwardly in his spot. He still doesn’t know the best way to calm Yuuri down when he gets like this, but he knows, at the very least, not to push. So he remains rooted to where Yuuri had told him to stand because apparently Viktor's hovering is too distracting. (Viktor doesn't complain, he just does as he's told, because an angry Yuuri was even worse than an anxious Yuuri.)

“Should we have baby proofed the house? What if she trips and falls and hits the corner of this coffee table? What if she plays with the power outlet? What if she gets into the cleaning supplies under the sink?”

Viktor grabs Yuuri by the arm as he passes, and pulls him into a hug. Yuuri tenses for a moment before relaxing into the embrace.

“What if Vivi decides she hates me?” He murmurs into Viktor’s chest. “What if Vivi isn’t happy with us?”

“Vivi adores you. She loves you so much I’m a little jealous.” Viktor says as he rubs comforting circles into Yuuri’s back. “And she loves how easy it is the wrap me around her little finger.” He adds with a chuckle.

“You spoil her.” Yuuri says accusingly, voice muffled. “Stop spoiling her so much. What if she turns into one of those tiny terrors? What if you become a dance mom.”

Viktor’s not sure what Yuuri means by “dance mom” but when he’s about to ask, the door bell rings. Yuuri jumps to answer the door.

“Daddy! Papa! Makkachin!”

If Viktor thought Yuuri was bad, Ketty was worse, and the two of them together was a catastrophe.

Ketty reorganizes and re-cleans every surface in the home—even Viktor and Yuuri’s room. Each time she sees Viktor she lists off phone numbers to hotlines, notes on Vivi’s likes and dislikes, what to do if Vivi is sick, homesick, sleepy, or throwing a tantrum. Every time Yuuri sees Viktor he apologizes for the mess (as though this wasn’t Viktor’s home as well), and promises that there’s just one more thing he needs to do before everything will be perfect.

It’s a little amusing, but it’s also driving Viktor up a wall so he takes Vivi and Makkachin out on a walk. They stop by the store to pick up ice cream along the way. 

“Papa, do you have a mama?” Vivi asks him, little voice already too serious for her age.

“Of course I do, Vika.” Viktor answers. “Everyone has a mama.”

Vivi purses her lips, an action reminiscent of Yuuri (it makes Viktor wants to pinch her cheeks), “My mama doesn’t have a mama.” She tells him. “And soon, I won’t have a mama.”

Viktor pauses. “Vika, everyone has a mama, but sometimes mamas leave.” He tells her, though he’s sure he is not the best person to talk to about mothers.

“Do you still have your mama?”

“Nyet,” Viktor answers softly. “My mama left a long time ago.”

Vivi tugs at his jacket and raises her arms in a silent demand to be lifted. Viktor happily obliges. He carries her easily.

“There, there.” Vivi pats his cheeks gently, a childish attempt to comfort him. “Papa is strong. I hope I can be strong too when Mama leaves.” She adds as she snuggles into the crook of his neck.

Viktor smiles, “You’ll be just as strong,” He tells her. “Because you’re Maria-Victoria. Vivi, Vika. Just like me.”

Vivi laughs at that, “Papa you’re silly.”

By the time they return, Yuuri and Ketty have calmed down. Ketty laughs when Vivi describes their adventure to get ice cream. Vivi bounces around the living room as she acts out scenes from their walk: the old lady who had stopped to pinch her cheeks; the little dog who had barked at Makkachin; not even the grumpy teenage cashier was left out of the tale.

“And you know what? Papa said he doesn’t like rocky road.” Vivi says horrified. “Mama, isn’t that terrible?”

Ketty’s grins, “It’s horrifying.” She agrees. “How can your papa not like rocky road ice cream?”

Maybe it’s the way Ketty looks at him when she says it. Maybe it’s the way her voice is still breathless from laughter. But hearing Ketty refer to him as Vivi’s papa sends shivers down Viktor’s spine. His heart jumps to his throat and he thinks he might cry.

He watches Vivi jump from Ketty to Yuuri to him and thinks: how did he ever get so lucky?

—

Vivi is bright in every way. Viktor is utterly enamored with her and lets himself be pulled around by her whims (much to Yuuri’s exasperation). But Viktor can’t help it. He absolutely adores Vivi. He spams Ketty with pictures and videos. There is a picture for every day, for every hour, for every minute Viktor spends with Vivi. (It probably doesn’t help that Vivi loves having her picture taken.)

At night, Vivi sleeps tucked between him and Yuuri. It’s a habit that Yuuri doesn’t want to encourage, but Viktor loves waking up in the pre-dawn and seeing two dark heads tucked under the covers. Viktor misses running with Yuuri in the mornings, but doesn’t think he would trade this scene for anything. It’s terrifyingly domestic; Viktor loves it.

Surprisingly, as they settle into a routine and a sense of normalcy, they find that Vivi takes after Viktor in personality. She is loud, confident, and thrives on being the center of attention. Yuuri has acclimatized to the terror that is Viktor and Vivi, but no one is prepared for the whirlwind of excitement and enthusiasm that is Vitya. Yuuri finds himself groaning the endearment often. In the beginning, it was his way of catching Viktor’s attention before a scolding but somewhere along the way it evolved to reference both Viktor and Vivi (the fact that the nickname preceded a long scolding hadn’t changed though). Ketty laughs when Yuuri complains to her about the things the two of them get up to, but there is a fondness in the way he tells those stories that never stops to catch Viktor's attention. And when Ketty teases him about all the silly things he and Vivi do, butterflies flutter in his stomach. He sears it all into his memory: these are the moments he wants to keep with him; the moments where he, Yuuri, Vivi, and Ketty are a family.

When the Olympics come and Viktor and Yuuri compete in Tokyo, Vivi tags along. Ketty insists. After taking silver to Yuuri's gold, they spend a well deserved break in Hasetsu. They only have a week, but Viktor does his best to introduce everything about this sleepy sea-side town to Vivi. He wants her to love it just as much as he does. He teaches her everything he knows about Japan (though Yuuri often complains that Viktor has a skewed image of the country). Introduces her to ninjas and katsudon, and onsen. He teaches her Japanese alongside Russian (which often reduces Yuuri to a puddle of laughter because the only Japanese Viktor knows is Saga-ben and that is apparently utterly hilarious). The week goes by too fast and soon Viktor and Vivi are both sobbing in the doorway of Yutopia promising to come back soon as Yuuri ushers them out because "Vitya we're already late!" (Mama Katsuki is a lot more forgiving as she sends them off with enough snacks to last them months.)

—

The days after Japan blur together. Viktor doesn't know if it's Yuuri's hectic training and competition schedule, or his own, or Vivi's sudden moodiness, or Ketty's rapidly failing health that makes the days all bleed into each other. This is Viktor's final season competing, but it's Yuuri who shines. Some people say that Viktor has too much on his plate. Some people say that Yuuri's too much of a distraction. That Yuuri is pulling him down. 

But Viktor knows better. Yuuri is amazing. Yuuri has always had the potential to be amazing; all he needed was that push, that extra little something. Now that he has it, Viktor knows that there's no way he can catch up. But he still tries to chase after Yuuri. He nips at Yuuri's heels and does all he can to keep him on his toes. Yuuri has to fight for every gold he gets because Viktor isn't willing to just let him take it.

Viktor retires after a less than stellar season according to fans. But for Viktor, this season was the most fun and the most interesting. He thinks it's the perfect way to end his career. He says as much during his press conference. If Viktor's honest, he wishes he could spend another year competing with Yuuri, but if he's really really honest, he's happy to be finally leaving the ice.

—

Viktor's newfound free time is spent split between the hospital, home, and the rink. He pops by the hospital when Yuuri is too busy to go and gives Ketty updates about Vivi and Yuuri and to gush over the two. He always brings a novel worth of stories and recently cookies. (He and Vivi have taken up baking as a hobby. It takes them several attempts to make a perfect batch though, because Viktor keeps forgetting to set the timer for the oven.)

“She really does love you.” Ketty tells him one day. Her eyes are still clear and bright, but there is a rattle to her words that sends shivers down his spine. Viktor isn’t ready for Ketty to leave them; he doesn’t know how he can make Yuuri and Vivi happy—how best to support them.

Ketty sees his hesitance. “Are you afraid?” She asks.

Afraid isn’t the right word. Viktor isn’t afraid. He’s nervous. He’s a little uncertain. He doesn’t know how to tell Ketty that. Ketty doesn't seem to need an explanation though. She just gestures to Viktor to come sit by her hospital bed. Viktor approaches her and sits on the edge of it, just enough to have it sink under his weight.

“Yuuri and Vivi love you.” She tells him.“And I’m so thankful that you’re in their lives. I mean, can you imagine Yuuri trying to handle Vivi on his own?” Ketty snorts at the thought. Viktor can’t help but agree. Ketty places a hand on his arm. She’s shaking. “Thank you.” She whispers, tearing up. “Thank you, Viktor.”

These are the last words that Ketty says to him. She passes away the very next day as though the only confirmation she needed before she let go was Viktor's assurance that he would love Yuuri and Vivi. This must be what mothers do. He supposes as he wipes away Yuuri's and Vivi's tears. This must be what a mother's love means. Viktor can only hope to aspire to give Vivi a drop of that love. He hopes that's okay. He's still learning what love is.

—

St. Petersburg feels…empty after Detroit. Viktor thinks this as he and Vivi walk to the ice rink to meet Yuuri. Even though he has lived here for most of his life, it wasn’t exactly home. Home was Hasetsu. Home was Detroit. It's strange to think that places he has spent far less time in have become more like home than the place he had spent his entire life, but it makes sense. Before Yuuri, the only thing that tied him to a place was skating. Before Yuuri, all he had was Makkachin and ice. Before Yuuri, Viktor didn't understand what it meant to live and to love. Home was Yuuri, was Vivi and Makkachin. Home was Yuuri's shy kisses and bold declarations. Home was Vivi hanging from his arms and curling into his side. Home was Makkachin greeting him with a wagging tail and demanding attention. 

“Daddy!” Vivi squeals when she sees Yuuri waiting at the doors. She charges at him in excitement. Yuuri looks worn out and tired but he still stoops to scoop Vivi into his arms. Home is this, Viktor thinks. Home is everything Yuuri, everything Vivi.

“Hey, Viktor.” Yuuri greets him with a smile. "You didn't bring Makkachin today?"

Viktor smiles back. “Yuuri!” He sings, planting a sloppy kiss on Yuuri’s cheek. Yuuri hates it, but Viktor loves seeing the fondness and annoyance flit across his face. "Vivi tired poor Makkachin out, so she's taking a well deserved nap at home." He taps Vivi's nose in a light scolding. Vivi giggles.

"Poor Makka." Yuuri laughs.

"Poor Makka." Vivi parrots. She squirms out of Yuuri's arms and plants herself between him and Viktor. She grasps their hands and smiles up at them. Viktor ruffles her hair fondly. "We played a lot! Makka even made a new friend!"

"Oh? Tell me all about it." Yuuri answers voice warm and tender.

Viktor's heart swells with happiness. If his sixteen year old self—no, if even his twenty-six year old self could see him now, he wouldn’t be able to believe it. Because at nearly thirty, Viktor finally had what he had always wanted: life and love. Yuuri and Vivi.

Chapter Text

Vivi is four when her mother dies. It’s a defining moment in her life, but Vivi doesn’t think that she’s defined by it. Vivi, for all her youth and childish naiveté, understands that some things in life are inevitable. Her mother dying is just one of those many inevitable things.

Ketty’s funeral is small. There is Vivi, Yuuri, and Viktor; a few of Ketty’s music professors; and a handful of old friends. Vivi doesn’t recognize any of them so she sticks to Yuuri’s side, quiet. They all tell her she’s brave and strong for not crying at her mother’s funeral, but Vivi doesn’t trust their words; Vivi is so scared all she can do is hold onto Yuuri and Viktor. She is so scared she can’t even find the words to express the nervous feelings that bubble in her stomach and threaten to overwhelm her.

It’s not until the strangers leave that Vivi realizes that this was it. Her mama is gone.

“Daddy, will Mama be lonely?” She tugs at Yuuri’s sleeve. These are her first words in days.

Yuuri crouches down next to her. “No,” He tells her, voice gentle. “Mama won’t be lonely.” Yuuri pulls her into a tight hug. “Do you see the plate next to hers?” He points to a simple headstone just a few steps away. “Your mama’s grandma is right here.”

Vivi looks  at the headstone and then back up at Yuuri, “She has my name.” She whispers in shock.

Yuuri smiles. “Yes, she does.” Yuuri plucks a flower from one of the many bouquets adorning Ketty’s grave and hands it to Vivi, “I’m surprised Ketty never told you that you’re named after your grandma. Ana-Maria Victoria Savas.”

“What was she like?” Vivi asks, eyes wide. Her fingers clench around the stem of the flower. “Was she like Mama?”

Yuuri sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know, but I do know that she was a strong woman and loved your mama very much.” He answers truthfully. “And she will definitely keep Mama company up in heaven.” He adds.

“And Mama won’t be lonely?” Vivi asks hopeful.

“And Mama won’t be lonely.” Yuuri answers with a wavering smile.

Vivi sighs in relief. She takes a bouquet of flowers from Ketty’s grave to add to the one Yuuri had give her and places it on her great-grandmother’s headstone. “Thank you Grandma.” She says solemnly. “I’m glad Mama has you. Please take care of Mama for me.” She whispers. Behind her, Yuuri tries to hide his tears.

Vivi is four years old, but Ketty had always teased that she was an old soul in a young body. Vivi is only four, but she already understands in her own childish way, what death is and what it meant.

“You know, Daddy, I’m lucky.” Vivi declares, throwing her arms around Yuuri’s neck. “I’m lucky because I get two daddies.” She pulls away and holds up two chubby fingers to make a point. “I have a mommy, a daddy , and a papa! And even though Mama had to go to heaven early, I still got you and Papa here to take care of me.” Vivi doesn’t think much of her statement; for her, it’s only logical, but Yuuri bursts into tears. “So it’s okay if we move to Japan or Russia! Because Mama always said that home isn’t a place, it’s always here.” Vivi points to her heart, “So wherever I go Mama will be there too! So don’t cry, Daddy.”

“Daddy’s such a cry-baby.” Viktor swoops down and places a kiss on Yuuri’s cheek. “Isn’t he, Vikochka?” He asks as he does the same to Vivi.

“Viktor!” Yuuri scolds as he furiously rubs his tears away.

“Papa!” Vivi throws her arms around Viktor’s neck, the weight of all her four year old self pulls Viktor towards her. Viktor laughs as he straightens himself, letting Vivi hang off him like a sloth. “Did you two finish saying goodbye to Mama?” He asks gently.

Vivi nods. “Can we come back next year? I’d like to tell Mama and Grandma everything!”

“Of course! Mama will definitely be watching you from Heaven, but I’m sure she’d love it if you came and told her all about your adventures.” Viktor touches her on the nose with his own. His arms wrap around her small body in a tight hug. “Come on cry-baby Daddy, boxes don’t pack themselves.”

Yuuri frowns as he takes Vivi into his arms. “I am not a cry-baby.” He says stoutly.

Vivi pats his cheeks consolingly. “It’s okay to cry Daddy. I still cry.”

Viktor stifles his laughter, choosing instead to ruffle Vivi’s hair fondly and placing another kiss on Yuuri’s cheek.

Vivi is four years old when her mother passes away, but that’s okay. It’s okay because Mama isn’t alone in heaven and Vivi still has her daddy and her papa.

Vivi misses Ketty fiercely. She misses Ketty’s voice and Ketty’s touch. She misses the way Ketty smelled before she got sick and the way Ketty used to twirl her around when she was a baby. Vivi misses everything about Ketty, but she knows it’s okay. It’s okay to miss her mama. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be sad.

Vivi will always miss Ketty, but that doesn’t mean she’s alone. She still has her daddy and her papa and she know they love her as much as Ketty loved her.

—

Vivi loves Russia. She loves how weird everything is. She loves how grumpy Yakov looks despite sneaking her sweets when Viktor and Yuuri aren’t paying attention. She loves the Russian Yuri and especially enjoys mimicking his very colorful language and expressions (much to the horror of her fathers and the amusement of everyone else). She thinks Georgi is hilarious, and Mila has become her idol, and she wishes she could be half as cool as Lilia Baranovskaya.

Vivi adapts easily to her new life, though sometimes the ache of missing Ketty makes her retreat. Some days, Vivi just wants to be back home. Home is Detroit. Home is the little apartment she shared with her mama. Most days, Vivi loves her home. She loves being able to watch the busy street below, she loves riding the bus across the bridge; she loves watching her daddy skate. It is familiar. It is home.

Vivi remembers spending hours in front of the television watching Yuuri compete. Even as baby she had been entranced. This was her daddy and he was beautiful. Even now, watching Yuuri glide across the rink, Vivi thinks he is beautiful. He is beautiful and he is her daddy. “Kyah! Daddy! You’re so cool!” She squeals when Yuuri passes her.

Vivi is five years old and shameless. Yuuri thinks she gets it from Viktor.

“So cool! Daddy!” Viktor mimics, high pitched squeal and all. Yuuri rolls his eyes and continues his lap around the rink.

Vivi leans over the edge of the barrier (with the help of a milk crate), and watches Yuuri with sleepy eyes. She feels a soft pressure on her head and looks up in surprise.

“Vika,” Viktor sings her name, “You’ve a head of hair, but I wonder how long it will last with all the thinking you do.” He says it teasingly as he ruffles her thick locks.

Vivi, leans into his touch, and replies, very seriously: “Papa, if I was as carefree as you, Daddy would go bald the fastest.”

Viktor falls to his knees dramatically. “That’s cruel of you, Vika-chan.” He cries. “Papa isn’t balding!”

Vivi laughs. She loves how silly her papa could be. The girls at school all thought he was handsome and cool, but Vivi knows better. Her papa is silly and childish, and sometimes Vivi wonders who is the real adult in their relationship.

“It’s okay Papa, I’m sure Daddy would still love you even if you looked like an egg.” Vivi teases.

“Yuuri, your daughter is cruel.” He moans, his voice echoes in the empty space. “I have died.”

Yuuri approaches the barrier, brow raised. “But Viktor,” he says voice innocent, “I would still love you even if you looked like an egg.”

Viktor pops up from his place on the ground as though shocked by some invisible current. “Yuuri!” He gasps in shock.

Vivi and Yuuri laugh. “We love you!” They say together, pulling a pouting Viktor into a hug.

“You’re a disgusting family.” Yuri, snarls as he glides past. “God for once can you guys not?”

“Aw, Yurio! You can join in on our family hug too!” Viktor offers, arms wide open. “Come and give your papa a hug!”

Yurio backs away in horror, “Yakov he’s fucking doing it again!”  He yells. “You’re not my parents!”

Vivi can only laugh as Yuri removes himself to the farthest edge of the rink. Yakov scolds Viktor for being distracting, but Vivi knows that he’s only half listening. Vivi is only five years old and her Russian is terrible, but she knows that if they were really in trouble, Yakov would have long kicked them out of the rink. So she settles against the barrier and watches Yuuri practice and thinks to herself: My daddy really is pretty.

—

Vivi at three and Vivi at four is different from Vivi at five. Vivi at five is nothing like Vivi at seven. Vivi at seven is every bit Ketty and every bit Yuuri poured into one overly exuberant mold: She is Yuuri and Ketty at their best and worst.

In all her glory, Maria-Victoria Abelashvili is a storm—a whirlwind of energy and optimism that leaves everyone around her breathless and wanting more. Vivi at her most honest self is beyond words.

Her energy is boundless, so much so that not even Yuuri, with all his stamina, can keep up. And even Viktor, with all his natural athleticism, is left amazed by how quickly and easily Vivi seems to pick up figure skating. Vivi throws herself onto the ice with the same elegance and grace as Yuuri. But unlike Yuuri, she proudly displays her talents. Vivi is everything but shy.

Vivi is bold. Bolder than Ketty. Bolder than Yuuri. And even, in some ways, bolder than Viktor.

Vivi is seven years old and unafraid.

Except when it comes to hospitals.

“Is Grandma dying?” Vivi asks, voice small and muffled by the crook of Yuuri’s neck.

Yuuri rubs comforting circles into her back. “Grandma isn’t dying. She just slipped and fell and hurt her back a little. She’s just staying here so the doctors can check to make sure she didn’t hurt anything else.”

“That’s what Mama said and she died.” Vivi protests. “Where’s Papa?”

“Papa’s at the ice rink, he still has class so he’ll come check on Grandma after us.” Yuuri answers gently.

“I want Papa.”

Yuuri hugs Vivi tighter. “I know, Vivi. I know.” He whispers. “But let’s put a happy face on for Grandma, okay? I’m sure your smile will make her feel a little bit better.”

Vivi doubts it will, but she does her best. She has had a lot of practice, but it’s been a while so she feels her smile is a little too rusty. Yuuri carries her over the threshold of her grandmother’s hospital room and Vivi is reminded of the many hours she spent in a similar sterile white room. Vivi misses Ketty.

At seven years old, Maria-Victoria Abelashvili is already familiar with loss. Her mother dies the summer before she turns five. Vivi is old enough to remember, mourn, and miss, but young enough to not quite understand what death means. Vivi remembers that summer very well. She remembers the days she spent by Ketty’s side in the hospital. She remembers the sounds and the smells.

Vivi remembers the first time she woke from a nightmare without her mother by her side. She remembers crying and not understanding. She remembers wanting Ketty so badly her bones ached. Yuuri and Viktor were at a lost; they could only hold her as she cried herself back into a fitful sleep, one hand fisted into the cloth of Yuuri’s shirt and the other has a vice grip around Viktor’s fingers.  She hugs Yuuri close, afraid that if she lets go he’ll disappear too. She wails every time Viktor tries to move out of her grasp afraid he would never return. It lasts for weeks.

But Hiroko does not match Vivi’s memory of hospitals. She is cheerful and bright. Her cheeks are a ruddy red not a sallow sickly yellow. She doesn’t remind Vivi of Ketty yet Vivi finds herself crying.

“Grandma!” Vivi throws herself out of Yuuri’s arms and into Hiroko’s. “Grandma you’re not gonna die, are you?”

Hiroko laughs as she hugs Vivi close. “No, I still have at least fifty years on me. You know, my mother lived well into her nineties! I just had a little accident.”

“Grandma will be just fine.” Yuuri consoles. “Why don’t you tell Grandma what you did today?”

Vivi is still a little uncertain, but Hiroko urges her in that gentle grandmotherly way, so Vivi tells her all about her day. It was as normal as any other day, but Hiroko’s excitement and attentiveness makes it seem special. For a moment, Vivi forgets they are at the hospital.

“Grandma, are you going to stay in the hospital tonight?” Vivi asks, voice wavering. “Aren’t you scared?”

Hiroko ruffles her hair fondly. “You’re such a sweetheart Vi-chan. Thank you for worrying about me, but I’ll be fine. Grandpa will come by later to keep me company so why don’t you go home and get dinner ready for your papa? I’m sure he’ll be hungry after teaching those kids all day and he tells me that you make the best miso soup!”

Vivi blushes. “I think Grandma’s is better.” She replies shyly.

“Then, Mom, we’ll head out now. If you need anything just let Viktor know before he comes.” Yuuri says, picking Vivi up. She settles against him like a koala; he doesn’t even need to carry her. “Tell Grandma bye.” Yuuri urges.

“Bye Grandma!” Vivi chirps obediently, voice small.

“Bye-bye Vi-chan. Make sure your daddy gets home safe!” Hiroko answers cheerfully. Vivi buries her head in the crook of Yuuri’s neck in response.

—

Vivi is seven and seven years don’t generally have worries, but Vivi realizes she’s not exactly a typical seven year old. Typical seven year olds don’t have two dads, live in a refurbished onsen, or travel to international competitions several times a year. And typical seven year olds are definitely not concerned about death. Even after visiting Hiroko, Vivi finds herself fretting. She doesn’t want her Grandma to die. It’s not fair. Vivi has only had her grandma for two years—why would God be so mean and take her grandma away too? The thoughts bounce around her head, refusing to go away even after Hiroko is discharge with a clean bill of health.

“Vika-chan, are you still worried about Grandma?” Viktor asks after Vivi squirrels her way into his side while he reads on the sofa.

Vivi doesn’t answer. She just buries her head under Viktor’s shirt. Viktor sighs and continues reading and Vivi is glad he doesn’t push her to talk. Vivi doesn’t know how long she stays like that, but Viktor’s familiar scent and the warmth of his skin lull her into a comfortable daze. The buzzing thoughts slow to a stop. She falls asleep before even realizing it.

The next thing Vivi is aware of is that she is in bed and Yuuri is curled up next to her, snoring softly. Vivi yawns and snuggles further into her covers. An arm shifts over her and rests itself over her tummy. “G’night, Vivi.” Viktor murmurs sleepily as he pats her tummy. Vivi is comforted by her fathers’ presence, by Yuuri’s slow breathes and Viktor’s soft hums as he gently lulls her back to sleep.

Vivi is seven years old. She has a whole life ahead of her. She has a daddy, a papa, and a mama. Her mama is gone now, but that’s okay. Somethings in life are inevitable. Somethings in life are unchangeable. Death is just one of those many inevitable, unchangeable things. Vivi, for what it worth, is happy and she knows, she knows, Ketty is happy too.

Chapter Text

“Daddy. Papa. Wake up.” Vivi whispers as she crawls onto her fathers’ bed. It is early, too early for her to be awake really, but Vivi can’t contain her excitement. Today is the day. It’s the day of all days! She practically buzzes as she sneaks into bed.

Yuuri groans into his pillow. “Vitya, your daughter is awake at an ungodly hour again.” Vivi stifles her laughter as she squeezes in between her dads.

“No, my daughter is sound asleep in her bed. Your daughter is disturbing our sleep.” Viktor groans back.

Vivi makes herself comfortable. She sticks her cold feet under Yuuri’s shirt to be warmed up, and shoves Viktor off to the side so she can have more room to stretch. “Daddy, Papa, it’s five. It’s morning! Hurry up and get ready!”

Yuuri hisses when he feels tiny feet shaped icicles kick against his back. “Vivi, it’s only five.” He answers in return. “Go back to sleep.” He murmurs as he shifts. “Don’t stick your feet on me. Use Papa as a human heater. He’s warmer.”

“Yuuri!” Viktor whines.

“You’re the morning person, go entertain your daughter.” Yuuri slurs his words as he falls back asleep.

Vivi tilts her head to look up at Viktor. She grins cheekily when she sees bright blue eyes regard her with fond annoyance. “Good morning, Papa.” She says, fluttering her long lashes.

Viktor smiles back and Vivi knows what’s going to come next. She finds herself smothered in blankets and pillows as Viktor crushes her in a hug. His long fingers find Vivi’s ticklish sides sending her reeling in laughter. Vivi ends up thrashing around the bed shrieking in laughter.

“Papa stop!” Vivi gasps. “No!” She wails and with one strong kick, she sends Yuuri flying off the bed in a tumble.

“It’s five in the morning on a holiday.” They hear Yuuri’s muffled voice sigh. “Vitya, we’re on a holiday.” Yuuri says from his place faced down on the ground.

“Daddy, there’s no need to be dramatic.” Vivi replies as she peers over the edge of the bed, the edges of her lips quirk up into a smile.

“Vika-chan, I’m never dramatic.” Yuuri answers, still faced down. “No, Daddy is never dramatic.” He adds as an after thought.

“Now, now, Yuuri, don’t be like that.” Viktor leans down to pat Yuuri’s head. “Why don’t you come back into bed and sleep some more while Vika and and I go make breakfast?”

“Do you want to kill me? Was kicking me off the bed not enough?” Yuuri moans.

“How rude! I’m a way better cook than Papa!”

“Yuuri! That was one time!”

Yuuri yawns as he drags himself back into bed. Vivi latches onto his side, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Daddy,” She pouts and Yuuri knows he won’t be allowed to fall back asleep. “Daddy, please?” She asks. Begs really. Vivi doesn’t use her puppy-dog face often, but when she does Yuuri doesn’t have the heart to say no. (Vivi never really has to try with Viktor. She has him wrapped around her little finger).

“Okay. Alright. We’ll go.” Yuuri agrees.

“Yay! I love you Daddy! Papa! Help me do my hair!” Vivi orders as she scrambles off the bed. “Do you think he’ll like me?” Yuuri hears her ask as she and Viktor head to the bathroom.

“Vika, he’ll adore you.” Viktor answers. “But not with that wild mane on your head. Honestly, how does it even tangle like this?” Viktor’s voice is incredulous. Yuuri laughs quietly as he makes the bed.

—

Vivi loves St. Petersburg. She loves how different it is from Hasetsu, from Detroit. She especially loves how bone chillingly cold it is during the winter. As they drive through the city, Vivi pushes her face up against the window and sighs. The glass fogs up but  the heat inside the car makes it quickly disappear. Vivi practically buzzes with excitement as the buildings rush past, a swirl of faded colors against a white backdrop. Today is the day, she thinks to herself. Today is the day she becomes a sister. The thought sends a wave of excitement through her little body. She has always been jealous of Axel, Lutz, Loop who were close despite fighting like cats and dogs most of the time (Loop and Axel always butted heads, both were stubborn and proud and hated admitting they were wrong). Vivi wanted to have a relationship like the Nishigori sisters, close enough to fight, close enough to forgive, close enough to be sisters.

In the front seat, Yuuri is murmuring to Viktor. Vivi know’s that he’s nervous, truth be told, she’s a little nervous too. She hugs her knees to her chest and wonders if she has it in her to a good sister. Vivi is only eight, but she knows that she can be a little selfish. She likes having her fathers’ attention all to herself. She’s never been good at sharing—she was a little dense when it comes to social interactions, having spent most of her short childhood in the company of adults rather than children—so she hopes that her new sibling will forgive her for any mistakes she will make.

“We’re a bit early, I wonder if that’s okay.” Yuuri sighs as he fiddles with the bag on his lap. “I mean, they could still revoke it, right? What if they decide that we’re not fit?”

Viktor reaches over to pat his knee, “They won’t.” Viktor answers, “They vetted us for over two years, I doubt they’ll rescind their decision because we’re early.”

“Daddy you’re such a worry wart.” Vivi pipes up. “You can challenge them to a dance battle if they say no!” She suggests cheerfully.

“That’s a wonderful idea, Vika!” Viktor laughs. “Yuuri, you should definitely challenge them to a dance battle if they say no.”

Yuuri buries his head in his hands. “Why are you two teasing me so much today?” He whines. “Vitya!”

“Maybe Brother will be on your side.” Vivi offers. She leans forward in her seat. “Papa, what’s his name again?”

“Kallinik.” Yuuri answers. “Kallinik Katsuki-Nikiforov. But Viktor says we can shorten it to Kana.”

Viktor hums in response.

“That’s a mouthful.” Vivi sighs.

“And Maria-Victoria Katsuki-Abelashvili isn’t?” Yuuri teases.

Vivi sticks out her tongue and pouts.

—

Vivi is eight years old when she becomes a sister. Her new brother is thirteen and looks nothing like Viktor and nothing like Yuuri. He is all limbs, dark eyes, and curly auburn hair. Freckles dot his cheeks and dance across his nose. Vivi thinks he is the handsomest brother in the world. She feels a little shy in front of him and hides behind Yuuri’s legs when they introduce her.

He looks nothing like Viktor but acts everything like Yuuri. He hunches as he is introduced, trying hard to make himself blend into the background (a difficult task since he is already nearly as tall as Yuuri). He stutters, and colors bright red in embarrassment. He cries when Viktor hugs him and calls him son, cries even harder when Yuuri holds his hands to comfort him, and completely breaks down when Vivi tugs at his hem and says, in halting Russian, “Thank you for being my brother.”

“Yuuri! Why are you crying too?” Viktor exclaims pulling away from Kallinik.

“Daddy cries a lot too.” Vivi explains. “So it’s okay if you cry too!” She smiles brightly.

Yuuri glares at Viktor. “Stop it, you know why.” He frowns. “Welcome to our family, Kana.” Yuuri says warmly, “I hope that you’ll be happy with us.”

Kallinik blushes even more at the nickname. At this point, Vivi is reminded of a strawberry. Bright red and freckled. “Um, thank you.” He says shyly in Japanese.

Viktor squeals and pounces on Kana. “This is my son.” He declares. “Look isn’t he as smart and as handsome as his papa?”

“I hope that Kana-nii doesn’t go bald as early as you.” Vivi says seriously.

“Vivi, you wound me. How can you say that to your father?” Viktor gasps. “How come your Russian is only good when insulting your papa?”

Vivi has a retort on the tip of her tongue, but a breathless laugh silences her. Kana tries to turn away—tries to smother his laughter but it breaks out, first quiet, but slowly deepens into a full and carefree laugh. Vivi laughs too, excited and surprise. Yuuri follows unable to hold back, even for his husband’s pride. Viktor joins last, a little reluctant, because the laughter is at his expense, but the sight of his son and his daughter giggling (even if he is the butt of the joke) warms his heart.

—

Kana is nothing like Vivi. Vivi is a storm, confident where he is uncertain; bold where he is shy; loud where he is quiet; adventurous where he is cautious. Vivi is a whirlwind that never stops. She drags him around Hasetsu and introduces him to everyone as her onii-chan. She declares him “the best, the most wonderful, the coolest big brother in the world”. This almost gives Kana an anxiety attack because he knows nothing about being a brother, knows nothing about being a part of a family. But Yuuri pulls him asides and helps him breathe and calm down and tells him not to worry because they’re all learning.  Yuuri tells him that being the best, the most wonderful, the coolest big brother isn’t about being perfect. He tells him that having a sibling means that you will fight, you will get angry, but you will always make up.

It does make Kana feel a little better.

“Thanks…Dad.” Kana says quietly, the last word falls hesitantly from his lips. He peers up at Yuuri and hopes he isn’t offended—or disgusted.

But all that greets him are warm russet brown eyes that flash with surprise and love. “Of course,” Yuuri smiles and ruffles his hair fondly. “Now, go call Vivi in for dinner. She’s probably running around outside doing something she’s not supposed to.”

Fathers must have a sixth sense Kana thinks, because Vivi is doing exactly that: something she’s not supposed to.

“Vivi, why are you in that tree?” Kana calls up to her. He doesn’t even know how she climbed up there because there are no low hanging branches or even a wall she could have scaled to help reach the branch she was perched on.

“Tanaka-san’s cat was up here and I wanted to pet it so I climbed it. But now I’m stuck.” Vivi yells back down cheerfully. She pumps her legs lazily. “I’ve been up here for two hours!” She says proudly while holding up two fingers.

Kana has only been living in Hasetsu for a few months, but in those few months he has learned many things. He learned that Yuuri is not a morning person but Viktor is. He learned that nothing seems to phase Vivi and she doesn’t much care to do things in conventional ways. He has also learned that he is incredibly lucky because Yuuri, and Viktor, and Vivi all love him despite all his flaws and insecurities. But the most important lesson he’s learned is that Vivi is trouble incarnate.

“I’m going to jump! Catch me!” Vivi declares, raising both arms to the sky.

“Wait! Vivi! Don’t!” But Vivi is already falling and Kana hopes that he can catch her.

Vivi is eight when she becomes a sister. She is almost nine when she nearly kills her brother.

—

“Maria-Victoria! You do not jump from trees! Especially not onto your brother!” Yuuri scolds as Vivi sulks. “You’re lucky it’s only a sprain! You could have really hurt Kana!”

“I’m sorry.” Vivi apologizes, head lowered.

“Dad, it’s okay. It’s just a wrist.” Kana protests. “The doctor said it’s only a minor sprain!”

“Is everything okay?” Viktor bursts into the living room, breathless. “Kana! Vivi! Yuuri!”

“Everything is fine now.” Yuuri answers. “But things could have gone bad fast! Vivi, you have to think about your actions more! Jumping off a tree is dangerous, not only did you hurt Kana, but you could have hurt yourself too!”

“I’m sorry!” Vivi apologizes, tears welling.

“Dad, we’re sorry! It was my fault for not stopping Vivi in time.” Kana intervenes just as Vivi’s tears begin to fall.

“Dad? What?”

“Viktor not now.”

“Dad? Yuuri! How could you?”

“Viktor! Your children almost killed themselves and you’re focused on that!”

“But Yuuri! I wanted Kana to call me dad first!”

“Viktor! Your children! Almost. Died.”

“I think we should escape now.” Kana whispers to Vivi. “Slowly.” He adds.

Vivi nods. “We definitely should.” She agrees.

The two of them retreat into the hallway, just out of sight of their parents. “I don’t think we’ll have dinner anytime soon.” Kana sighs.

“Let’s go play video games.”  Vivi suggests cheerfully, tears already gone.

“It was important to me!” They hear Viktor wail. “I wanted to be Kana’s first!”

“Viktor! Vivi almost crushed Kana by jumping off a tree and you’re disappointed he called me dad before you?!”

The conversation is ridiculous, but most of the conversations between Viktor and Yuuri rarely made sense. They were a mix of English, Japanese, and Russian tied together by some strange mutual understanding, cemented by secrets only they knew. Kana is so focused on Viktor and Yuuri he doesn’t notice Vivi reach out to slip her hand into his. He almost jumps in surprise.

“I really am sorry about jumping on you.” She apologizes quietly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please don’t be mad.”

He gives her a comforting squeeze in return. “I’m not.” He smiles. “But no more jumping off trees. I’m not strong like Dad or Viktor, so I really can’t catch you.”

Vivi giggles. “Now you’re just poking fun at Papa.”

Kana grins. “Yes. Yes I am.”

Kana is fourteen when he is almost killed by his eight year old sister. Luckily he survives with only a sprained wrist to show for it. Other than that he really has no complaints about his new life. Everyday is filled with a new adventure. He has parents who love him, a sister that adores him, grandparents that spoil him, and an aunt that teaches him all the bad words and sayings in Japanese he needs to know. Plus there are a dozen other people that have accepted him into their lives with warmth and love. Kana has never been more happy to be alive.