Что меня ждёт

“Now, there’s an image you don’t see everyday.”

Tooru was a charmer. Charismatic, athletic, and with a reputation to back him up on the court, he had no issues winning over new fans every single day. Unfortunately, it was those people that he often got bored with very quickly. It was nice to have someone cheering for you and carrying a banner in your name to each game, but after a while he simply didn’t hold much interest for them. More often than not, he knew that his fans were simply there for his looks and how cool he was when hitting his jump serves just right: barely any of his fans at Enyo could care less about him as a person.

That was why he looked for real friends outside of volleyball. Friends, acquaintances, and otherwise - people outside of his school circle tended to have more interesting stories, and opinions. While he appeared simple-minded, Tooru actually preferred a challenge and in turn, someone who could challenge him.

What, you might ask, did that have to do with this moment?

Not a lot. But as Tooru approached the redhead peering at the flower display in the shop’s window, he could already sense that he was about to deal with someone who wasn’t mindless like a lot of others he found trailing after him. It was something akin to seeing a tough opponent from across the court. He smiled in a friendly way, hands tucked into his Enyo team jacket, and let out a small chuckle.

    Her eyes wandered further into the shop window as she spotted more of her favorite flowers inside the shop. Mila thought for a while as she tapped her foot in an attempt to help decipher whether she would push through with purchasing the flowers for her home.

    “How blessed you must be to see a hag.” Mila chuckled as she turned over to the male, he was familiar - she could have sworn that she had seen him a couple of times before. And judging by his attire, Mila was right. She had seen him a couple of time at Enyo before - mostly inside the gym whenever she was there.

    Mila had been out grocery shopping when she crossed paths with someone from the press. And although encounters like this was rare, Mila wasn’t the type to do random interviews but for this, she made an exception. After finishing the random interview, Mila took a seat on one of the benches on the sidewalk.

    She fished out for her phone and decided to go through her social media, deciding whether she would head home or stop by a cafe first. Her thinking, however, was stopped when someone had approached her and spoke up.

    Mila turned to face him when he had mentioned Yuri Plisetsky, one of her closest friends. “Otabek Altin?” She almost shouted when she saw him, a shocked expression on her face as she never expected to see him there. She had seen him perform previously on the Grand Prix alongside Yuri and admired him for his hard work and dedication. 

    “Yuri? Of course, I know Yuri. We’re rinkmates. I represent Russia in the female division.”  Mila smiled.

Otabek was glad that he could meet someone that knew Yuri. Perhaps he could learn a few things about the smaller blond male. It did make him feel a bit silly not recognizing the woman in front of him, now that he got a good look at her. She was in many magazines for her talent on the ice, a leader among the women. It was surprising to see her here, perhaps she didn’t practice during the off season?

“Right, sorry. I didn’t notice who you were until now.” After apologizing, he sat next to her with a soft sigh. He was hustling about all morning, a small break couldn’t hurt. 

    “The pleasure is mine.” She beamed, although they weren’t directly competing against each other, Mila wanted to meet the other competitors and make friends - after all, it was off season and it was rare to bump into other skaters competitors.

    “Annoying Grandma? Ha!” Mila couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, it’s a nickname. Affectionately given to me by Yuri.” She added. “But it’s not like I am a grandma. I’m only 18.” She explained with a small sigh.

    “And yes, well, no. It depends on the guy really. I’ve seen him act like that around Yuuri Katsuki before though. Oh, and JJ.” 

▼ kissing them

♢ stabbing them

♞ shooting them

✖ punching them

➶ slapping them

☠ poisoning them

☎ hugging them

☂ picking them up

✗ bringing them alcohol

✣ bringing them food

☯ coming home late

That old hag was hogging the rink again. Standing on the side, Yuri reached his arm over his head, stretching the muscles on his side. Yuri often wondered when she was going to quit skating and become a model full time, mostly because he wanted to get her out of his hair. 

Usually, he would’ve done anything to avoid talking to Mila, but today was a little different. Today, he needed her advice, as much as it absolutely pained him to admit something like that. Honestly if he could avoid wording it like that, he definitely was going to. He didn’t feel like listening to her, but he also didn’t know who else to ask. From the way she talked, Mila definitely had some sort of…experience in this field. 

“…Oi…” he called out, clearing his throat as he did. “Grandma,” he snorted, rolling his eyes as she skated by the edge where he stood. “You’ve been to…Club Rapture…right?” he asked, his mouth feeling dry just thinking about it. 

    Mila blinked when she heard the shorter blonde call out to her but skated towards the edge of the rink towards him anyway. “What do you need, Yura?” sh inquired, crossing her arms; a slight grin forming on her face.

    The moment that Yuri spoke of his concern, Mila placed her hand over her mouth in an attempt to conceal her laughter. “Club Rapture?!” She laughed slightly. 

He had simply been walking down the road minding his own business when he heard a voice. The voice itself wasn’t familiar, it was the accent that caught his attention. She wasn’t from around here originally, but he had an idea of where she came from. It was similar to a new friend he had recently made. Russian…Just like him.

Though he wasn’t really one to start conversations, he couldn’t help but allow his curiosity to get the best of him. Hoping that he wasn’t interrupting whatever she was doing, he approached her with an inquisitive tone in his voice. 

    She fished out for her phone and decided to go through her social media, deciding whether she would head home or stop by a cafe first. Her thinking, however, was stopped when someone had approached her and spoke up.

    Mila turned to face him when he had mentioned Yuri Plisetsky, one of her closest friends. “Otabek Altin?” She almost shouted when she saw him, a shocked expression on her face as she never expected to see him there. She had seen him perform previously on the Grand Prix alongside Yuri and admired him for his hard work and dedication. 

    His parents were ice dancers? That probably explained why they were also JJ’s coaches. She found it cute to say the least - having ice dancers for parents then having them be your coaches. “Well, that would be change - imagine if you did get into pair skating, the world would be in shock.”

    Mila raised an eyebrow as JJ whipped out a pen and pad paper from his pockets. She twitched slightly, not expecting the fact that he had those things with him. “I assume you always have those with you?” She chuckled as she accepted his autograph and gave him a nod of thanks.

    “To one of the handsomest men that I’ve ever met, with love, Mila.” She said as she wrote them on paper.

“It’s a courteous to my fans. I couldn’t disappoint all the people who obviously want my autograph, that would just be rude.”

JJ had never been rude in his life. At least he thought so. He tended to be oblivious on these things, or at least had a different opinion on what constituted rude than most. He eagerly though held out his hands to take the autograph back.

Having your ego affirmed was always a good thing in his mind, but also it was nice to just to see Mila play along. The two of them were not in direct compettition with each other yes, but they were still both skaters. He wanted to feel it a little too, the respect and interactions with your peers.

“I doubt I could be as good as my parents though, they really saved me you know. When those others coaches would… ah.”

A pause.

“Well, if I could find somebody as beautiful as myself I might consider pair skating. You almost qualify, dear Mila.”

Mila could have sworn that she twitched out of irritation. “Why not try Sara?” Mila chuckled as she mentioned her fellow skater and best friend, “If you can get past Michele, that is.” she added. 

“Or maybe the Russian Fairy, if he’s not too busy being a punk.” Mila crossed her arms. It was nice to see a different side of JJ - it turns out he wasn’t as bad as Yuri put him. Looking at the autograph that the male had given her. 

@babaecheva

This lady looked all-too familiar. Kenjirou knew he had seen her somewhere, whether it was passing by on the streets or on TV, but he couldn’t quite remember where. It was on the tip of his tongue and it was driving him insane. Why couldn’t he remember where he saw her?!

He had been following her down the street for the past four minutes, trying to figure it out. It was a pretty busy street, so it didn’t look weird or anything. They just ‘happened’ to be going the same way.

It was unnerving how familiar she looked, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he didn’t find out. Kenjirou was too curious to even let himself think about anything else.

    Her attention was taken away by someone tapping her shoulder, she faced towards that direction and her eyes widened slightly. She had seen him before, but where?. 

“Coincidentally, I have thought about pair skating for a while. But it’s not like you’d actually trade pair skating for the singles.”

Mila continued to smile at JJ, a sense of guilt building up inside her - had she forced him to say something that he didn’t want so say? She would like to believe so. Mila had seen the male breakdown in a Grand Prix and to but it bluntly, she didn’t want to see it again.

“I actually prefer my milk in a bottle.” Mila chuckled, “And as for autographs, why not? That’d be fun.” 

“Well my parents were both ice dancers, so I know there’s a lot of prestige to that sport as well, Unfortanately I don’t think it’s for me, could you imagine me sharing the glory?”

JJ said with an odd tone of self depreciation. Odd for him at least, or perhaps he was so oblivious he did not even realize he was being self aware. Both were possible. He removed his thumb from his chest though, and  reached into his pocket. He was skating with a jacket on, though he liked the outfits worn in compettition pockets were nice to have. He produced a pen and a pad of paper that he kept on him specifically for signing autographs. 

    Mila raised an eyebrow as JJ whipped out a pen and pad paper from his pockets. She twitched slightly, not expecting the fact that he had those things with him. “I assume you always have those with you?” She chuckled as she accepted his autograph and gave him a nod of thanks.

    “To one of the handsomest men that I’ve ever met, with love, Mila.” She said as she wrote them on paper.

Mila let out a sigh of relief, “Alright then, Otabek.” She smiled as she stood up from the benches. She thought for a while as she stood up and picked up her towel and water bottle from the bench.

“Sure! I’d love to go with you!” She beamed. “I’ve been wanting to do that for some time too. The farthest that I’ve probably explored is the bar near my condo.” She chuckled, her modelling work might have taken her to places but Mila had only gone so far with where she had gone herself. 

“Would it be alright if I meet you outside the rink? I’ll just get my stuff and change into my shoes.” She chuckled as she pointed at her skates.

“That’s fine.” Nodding at her instructions, he turned and began making his way out of the building, leaving the woman to get ready at her own pace. After having exited, he scouted out the space where he’d parked his bike, returning to the vehicle and perching himself on top the seat where he waited until Mila came into view again some time later, prompting a subtle smile to tug along his lips. 

@viktyaa

    Mila looked around her before entering the doors of Little Italy. The night was, in her opinion, a good night to go out for dinner and also because she didn’t want to cook. Walking inside, Mila looked for a table that was slightly out of view but still had a good view of the whole restaurant.

    She walked up to an empty table and took a seat on the chair near the wall.A waiter approached her and handed her a menu. She flipped through it and ordered some pasta as well as a glass of wine to compliment it. 

   Handing the menu back to the waiter, Mila cupped her chin on her hand as she began to observe the people inside the restaurant.

          On a rare night where his significant other was otherwise preoccupied, Viktor, feeling too lazy to cook for himself had chosen to test run one of the many eateries strewn about the picturesque little town. If nothing else, the French were reputed for their cuisine though it’s the savours of Italy which end up grabbing his fancy for dinner.

         Tucked away behind his menu in a window seat of the restaurant, he’d not remarked anything out of the ordinary or particularly noteworthy of his attention. At least not until he caught wind of the auburn haired woman’s presence, prompting him to immediately evacuate his seat in favour of greeting her.

“Mila!” Without hesitation, he grabbed an empty chair from another table and dragged it to seat himself adjacent hers.

    “Viktor! It’s been a while!” Mila greeted as she looked at the male. He hasn’t changed since the last time that she saw him. “I’ve been good and yourself?” She inquired with a smile. She observed the male in front of him, they had been friends and rinkmates for quite some time.

     The day may have been cold, and the wind may have been a bit biting, but Yuuri didn’t mind it at all. It didn’t compare to the winter he’d spent in Russia, of course, and knowing that he was on his way to somewhere warmer was a relief. 

     The cafe that they agreed to meet in was close enough for Yuuri to walk to from home; a mere fifteen minutes wasn’t much in this sort of cold, but it was the time of the year for snow to stick to the ground, and Yuuri wanted to be inside before the snow of the day started to fall.

     He pulled the cellphone out of his pocket and looked down at the texts they had sent each other (texting and walking turned out to be a lasting bad habit of his) agreeing to meet for lunch, just to make sure there wasn’t anything he missed. 

     In time with his arrival to the cafe, he sat at one of the tables on the first floor and sent her a message.

    She stopped for a while to dig out her phone from her purse to read a message. It was from Yuuri.  Giving herself a mental note of where they would meet, she hurriedly typed her reply.

       [To: Yuuri|| 13:17] Got it! I’ll see you in a while.

     Upon her arrival at the cafe, Mila looked around the first floor - it wasn’t particularly crowded so that would mean that she would be able to find her companion easily, and she was right.

    “Yuuri! Privyet!” 

    “You probably have that in Canada too, you know.” 

    Mila chuckled before crossing her arms, “I didn’t even weasel anything from you. But I’m glad that my technique worked.” She nodded, she didn’t intend to squeeze the truth out of him - she just wanted to mess with him a little.

    “I see, so you’re here to find yourself.” Mila stated, almost like she had discovered something. “I’m not going to hold that against you, we all have our moments. You’ll get through yours, you are JJ after all.” She smiled.

“Yes, what about in Russia? Do you get your milk in bag or carton form? Or do you prefer to take your milk straight from bears?”

JJ bantered back. He preferred to keep the mood light and snappy because he did not want to think to the heavier things he had just admitted to. All skaters dealt with the nerves in differet ways, but when it happened to JJ it felt like he wasn’t even himself anymore.

Mila continued to smile at JJ, a sense of guilt building up inside her - had she forced him to say something that he didn’t want so say? She would like to believe so. Mila had seen the male breakdown in a Grand Prix and to but it bluntly, she didn’t want to see it again.

“I actually prefer my milk in a bottle.” Mila chuckled, “And as for autographs, why not? That’d be fun.”