#so there's lingering touches and significant glances and warmth curling in the belly but neither will ACT ON IT

[queen-scribbles]

Good for the Soul

Inspired by this lovely art from @levikra, this was supposed to be short but the muses had other plans. OOPS

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The sun’s reflection shimmered on the water, broken by rippling waves and stray seabird silhouettes as they circled overhead. It was calming. Mesmerizing. Exactly what she needed and almost enough to keep her from noticing the quiet footsteps behind her.

Astrid smiled to herself, twisted a lock of windblown hair around her finger, and spoke without turning around. “You know, some might say it’s dangerous to sneak up on someone like me. Good way to find yourself dead.”

There was a chuckle, the soft rasp of boots against sand-grit stone. “Perhaps I have faith in your judgment.”

She snorted and looked down at her feet, the soles just skimming the water’s surface. “In recent years, that’s also proven a good way to find yourself dead.”

“Astrid.” There was no missing the note of friendly reproof in Sebastian’s voice as he sat next to her. There was a beat of silence before he shifted to, “What d’you mean by ‘someone like me’?”

“Oh, you know.” She finally turned and smiled at him. She tried to make it reach her eyes. “One of the more well-known sorts. A mage. The kind of person who might be extra jumpy about being approached unannounced.”

“Ah.” There was a smile tugging his lips and concern in his eyes. “For what it’s worth, I wasn’t tryin’ t’ sneak-”

“I know,” Astrid cut him off, lightly bumping her shoulder to his. Several seconds of comfortable silence stretched between them before she asked, “So, are you today’s short straw?”

Hm?” Sebastian cocked his head and ran a hand over his hair as the coastal breeze tried to ruffle it. (A deep down secret part of Astrid wanted it to succeed)

“You know, the unlucky soul who gets to make sure I’m not drowning in misery.” She kept her gaze on a swooping gull as she spoke, felt her heart give a similar lurch when Sebastian shifted closer, pressing their shoulders together.

“There were no straws,” he said with a half-smile that made her breath catch, carefully shifting so his boots were braced against the rock. “I volunteered. I know you like it out here, an’ it is quite beautiful, in the right spots. And peaceful, even, when nothin’s tryin’ t’ kill ya.”

She couldn’t help the giggle, or the more genuine smile that followed. “Oh, is that it? Too dangerous for me to be alone?” she teased.

Sebastian shrugged. “As you said, you are well-known, especially since Viscount Dumar’s started keeping council with you. Also one of the few voices of reason remaining in the city. Surely you can see how that might put you in added danger.”

“True,” she allowed, pulling her legs in so she could dry her feet and tug back on socks and boots. “I also can handle myself.”

“Well I know it,” he replied, lips still curved in that half-smile, and rested a hand on her arm. “And I didn’t mean to imply you shouldn’t be out here.”

“I was planning to head back soon anyway,” she assured him, patting his hand.  “You did no such implying.” She nodded toward the dark band of clouds off to the east. “That’s more responsible than you for my choice.”

“In that case...” Sebastian pushed to his feet and offered her his hand. “Care for company on th’ walk home?”

Astrid accepted the help up, let her hand linger in his. Since it’s you offering...  “That would be lovely. If you have the time? I don’t want to impose.”

He shook his head. “Helpin’ you is never an imposition.”

She stared at her boots, biting her lip around a smile. “Sebastian.”

“I mean it. I promised t’ help you if you needed me, an’ I have no duties this morning, anyway.”

She arched a skeptical brow at him. “None?”

“None pressin’ or that couldn’t be traded, then,” he amended. “B’sides, I’d say offerin’ my support or at least company to a friend who may still be grievin’ is a more worthy use of my morning that foldin’ linens or parin’ down candles.”

Her smile spread. “Ah. In that case, it’s most welcome. Your company, I mean.” A more insistent breeze whisked around them, tousling their clothes and her hair and she reached up to push it back as she added a teasing quirk to her smile.  “Even if I’d be fine on my own.”

Sebastian took the gentle ribbing in stride as he fell in step next to her for the walk back. “I’m sure your would be. I’ve seen how well you handle yourself. But y’ never know what you’ll run into out here, an’ two are better than one, isn’t that th’ saying?”

Astrid gave him a pointed look that lingered on his lack of armor, bow, or quiver. In fact, the only part of his usual ensemble he had on was the hooded jacket; trousers, boots, belts were all plain and unassuming. No trace of white and gold. “I take it you’re confident in your fist-fighting skills, then?”

He chuckled and clasped his hands behind his back. “I can handle a fair few, aye. But with the weather turnin’ I don’t think that’s as much of a risk. Most would-be threats are like a not seeking shelter “ There was a muffled crack of lightning and he half turned to glance behind them. “As we should probably do.”

“Wha-” Astrid turned to look as well and her eyes widened at the rapidly darkening sky. Damn unpredictable weather... She rested a hand just above his elbow to tug him into a quickened pace with her. “There’s a cave that should be cleared out a little ways up the coast. Unless you think we can make it all the way to the city?”

Even as he opened his mouth to reply, a fat raindrop hit her cheek and the wind tugged at their clothes and hair again, forceful enough it loosened her ponytail.

Sebastian shook his head. “How far to this cave?”

“Half a mile? Maybe a little more.” She pushed her hair out of her face, tendrils curling around her fingers as she tucked them back.

“I think we’ll be lucky t’ make that, rate th’ storm’s comin’,” he said. More rain pattered down around them to underscore the words.

Astrid was a bit more optimistic about their chances, but no point tempting fate--especially when she’d barely dressed warm enough for fair weather. If she got drenched, there were better than decent odds she’d catch cold this time of year. “Oh, if we hurry we can make it,” she said, reaching for his hand as they both quickened their pace again. Another strong gust of wind and they were all but running. Sebastian’s hand was warm in hers, and it took effort to focus on the path and remembering where precisely the cave was rather than that.

Fortunately, their goal wasn’t hard to find, and the weather mostly held until they were inside. The wind gusted every few seconds, and there was a healthy pattering of large raindrops mixed in, but there threatening storm still hadn’t unleashed its full fury when they reached the cave entrance.

They hurried into the shelter it offered with barely a moment’s hesitation, finally releasing each other’s hand as they leaned against the walls to catch their breath. Astrid summoned a spell to illuminate at least part of the cave, check they were alone. It was, as she’d hoped, still empty. It was too shallow a space to make a good home for larger animals or a hideaway for criminals, and too bare to be attractive to smaller critters.

Just as she finished her examination, the rain turned from warning drizzle to full-on deluge. She and Sebastian flinched further back into the cave as water hit the ground with sufficient force and volume to generate spray.

“Well, that was good timing on our part,” Astrid said with a sigh, staring at the curtain of rain. “I wasn’t expecting the storm to roll in so fast, sorry you’re stuck here now.”

Sebastian shrugged and ran one hand through his hair--which, she noticed with a small bit of internal glee, the wind had succeeded in thoroughly ruffling. It returned to a disheveled state the second he let his hand drop. “It’s not your fault, the weather’s never been predictable out here.” He flashed a smile, the glow from her spell sharply highlighting the planes of his face. “An’ I can think of far worse ways t’ spend a few hours than in your company.”

Her face warmed, making the goosebumps on her arms all the more noticeable by contrast. “As can I,” she mumbled, tucking back hair the wind had pulled loose from her ponytail. A smile pulled at her lips. “In fact, if I have to be stuck in a cave with someone, you are my first choice.”

His smile widened. “Thank you. High praise, indeed.”

“I mean...” Astrid rubbed her arm. “It says more that you’re good with sitting still than anything else.” Liar, her thoughts mocked. “If I have to spend a couple hours in close quarters to someone, best it not be someone who’ll go stir-crazy and drive me up the wall.” She hesitated a beat. “And I just enjoy your company in general.”

Sebastian chuckled. “And I yours. As that storm looks intent on staying around for a while, any ideas for passin’ the time?”

The way he was looking at her--gentle, genuine smile, with his hair all tousled like that--was giving her several ideas she’d rather die than share. “Umm...” She bit her lip in thought, rubbing both arms now as a cool breeze swirled through the shallow cave. Her shirt was just damp enough from the rain spray to make a shiver prickle up her spine. “Talking or sitting in comfortable silence are the only options coming to mind.”

“Both good options,” Sebastian agreed, his hands rising to the clasps for his jacket. Astrid forced herself to stare at the pouring rain outside rather than his long, strong fingers. “Anything in particular you’d like t’ talk about? Or avoid talkin’ about?”

She smiled wryly toward the downpour. It’s like he read my mind. “How I’m doing. Since Mother...” The words trailed off and Astrid bit her lip. “Seems like that all anyone wants to know about me anymore-” She broke off with a flinch when she realized he was standing next to her, in the process of draping his jacket around her shoulders.

“You looked cold,” he said with a shrug when she shot him a questioning look.

She couldn’t really deny it. “Thank you,” she murmured, fingers curling around the leather. After only a moment’s hesitation, she slipped her arms through the sleeves--which were, of course, too long--and wrapped it around her. It smelled of candle wax and pine rosin and cleaning oils and ever so faintly she caught a whiff of his pomade from the collar. It was like having him hug her, and between that thought and the general kindness of the gesture, it was a long moment before Astrid trusted her voice. “Won’t you need it?”

Another shrug as he crossed his arms(she stared even harder toward the rainy outdoors to avoid ogling his forearms). “I’ll manage, never fear.”

She hoped he wasn’t just saying that. If he caught cold because he’d given her his jacket she’d never forgive herself. “If you’re sure...”

Sebastian smiled and bumped her shoulder. “I’m sure.”

They  lapsed into comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the rain fall. Another faint shiver rippled up Astrid’s spine despite the jacket’s warmth and she hugged her arms even closer around herself.

“It’s almost pretty,” she commented, nodding toward the view outside the cave.  “A little bleak, but there’s still something beautiful about it...”

An inscrutable look flickered in Sebastian’s eyes as one side of his mouth tugged into a brief half-smile. “You really are a marvel, Astrid,” he murmured. He took a seat on the lone boulder in the cave and leaned forward, bracing his arms against his thighs as he studied her and the rainy panorama with equal curiosity. “Seein’ the beauty in even days like this, not wantin’ people t’ worry about you...”

“Oh, they can worry about me all they want,” Astrid clarified with a wry laugh, sitting next to him. “I just wish they’d ask me about other things. I’m handling it, best I can. And having people ask about it constantly feels like poking a wound and wondering why it won’t heal.”

He nodded. “I see th’ sense in that.” Another beat of silence, their shoulders pressed together by the narrow seating. “Have y’heard from Carver recently?”

She shot him a grateful smile, her stomach fluttering. “Not recently, no. Maybe a month? Gamlen was going to handle writing him about ... about Mother.” Her nose wrinkled. “Perhaps I should have done it, but-”

“Not everything is your responsibility,” Sebastian interjected gently. “True, your uncle may be... less tactful than you would, but it’s fair t’ let other people take at least part of the burden from your shoulders. Even something that seems as simple as that.”

“Mm.” Astrid nudged his knee with her own but didn’t really reply. After a moment, she sighed. “This kind of weather makes me think of him...”

“Carver?”

She nodded. “Rainy days like this back in Lothering, and even before, sometimes, we’d hole up in the barn and I’d help him practice sword moves. Mother and Father would never let him actually ask anyone for lessons, so he’d watch the militia and templars train and then I’d stand in as an opponent armed with a broomstick so he could practice.” A wistful smile tugged her lips at the memory. “One time her got so caught up in it, he cracked my knuckles--I think by accident--and I hit back so hard my broomstick broke. Against his broomstick, not him,” she hastily added. “Mother was not amused. Father was.”

“Why didn’t they want him seekin’ lessons?” Sebastian asked.

“They were worried,” Astrid murmured, dragging the toe of her boot through the dirt as the heated conversation played in her head. “Worried it would draw attention, too much scrutiny on the family, especially if he asked the templars.” ‘The lone blade in a house of mages...’ “As we’ve recently had painfully reinforced”--a sad smile--”they are not all good men, and the reaction to a family full of apostates would hardly have been pleasant. So he made do. And considering what he had to work with, he did a rather fantastic job. I was--am--very proud of him.”

Sebastian smiled. “Sounds like you were close.”

She snorted a soft, wry.laugh. “As we could be.” Her ponytail drooped against her shoulder, and she shook her hands free of the sleeves to tug it entirely loose. “Carver... Carver can be prickly at the best of times, and a downright tit at his worst. I love him dearly, but it’s true.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Most would say it’s a good thing to recognize the flaws of those you love. Keeps you from puttin’ them on a pedestal.”

“Oh,we shared a room at Gamlen’s far too long for that to ever be a risk where he’s concerned,” Astrid laughed, fingers deftly twining her hair into a braid. “I almost pity the Wardens.”

“You miss him,” Sebastian said, gaze intent on her face. It wasn’t a question.

“Very much,” she said softly, keeping her own gaze fixed on the rain outside as she tied off the braid. If she met his eyes, she wasn’t sure she could hold back the suddenly-prickling tears. “But at least Carver there’s a chance I’ll see him again. The rest...” The words trailed off with a sigh.

“I know.”

The two quiet words made her face burn hot. “Maker, Sebastian, I’m sorry.” She rested a hand on his arm, wishing the ground would swallow her whole. “I didn’t... I forgot for a minute...”

“Astrid, it’s alright.” He covered her hand with his and gave it a gentle squeeze as he swallowed reassuringly. “I know you didn’t intend offense, and none is taken.”

“Still...” She gnawed self-consciously on her lower lip.

“You’re much too hard on yourself sometimes,” Sebastian said softly, his smile taking on a compassionate edge.

Astrid locked eyes with him and tried to shrug it off. “It’s part of my charm?” she murmured uncertainly. That was convincing...

“Then it’s part you could do better without,” he countered, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles. “You give so much grace to others, Hawke, extend some to yourself as well.”

“Easier said than done,” she said, quiet, rueful.

“Try,” he said, earnest, caring.

Her breath stuttered in her lungs as they held each other’s gaze, near-unblinking. The warmth of his hand on hers and his arm under it was... intoxicating felt too strong. Overwhelming? And with his hair all loose and tousled like that... 

He has vows, Astrid. The thought was cold rainwater down her smile. Ironic, considering when she tore her gaze away toward the cave mouth, the actual rain was starting to taper off. “Oh, look, it’s dying down.” She withdrew her hand and hastily pushed to her feet. (Of course, the fact she was wearing his jacket was not helping at all.)

Sebastian was nice enough to both not press the previous line of conversation and let fade the heat of whatever that... moment had been. “Aye, we should be able t’ head back soon.”

“Oh, here.” Astrid slipped off his jacket(with no small amount of reluctance) and handed it back. “I’ll be alright now. Thank you for the loan.”

He shot her a look silently asking if she was sure even as he took the jacket and pulled it back on. When she didn’t contradict herself, he started fastening the clasps. “Glad it helped.”

“It definitely did that,” she laughed. “Thank you, as well, for the company. It would have been quite boring to be stuck in here alone.”

Sebastian grinned. “Happy t’ be of service.”

It took longer than they’d expected, but after a bit the rain had indeed died to a faint, spotty drizzle. Looking at the overcast sky, this was likely the best they would get, and there was no telling the odds of another downpour. They decided to chance heading back to the city proper and hope the weather held.

“Even if we can’t make it all the way to my house or the chantry, there are, at least, more interesting places to take refuge than a cave,” Astrid said.

“More comfortable, too,” Sebastian added with a chuckle, and she laughed as well.

While the drizzle didn’t abate, neither had it worsened by the time they reached the chantry steps and parted ways.

“Thank you,” Astrid said, briefly resting a hand on Sebastian’s bicep. “I know I already said it, but I’m very grateful to have you in my life--as, as a friend, and I deeply appreciate the help you offer. In all its forms.”

He caught her hand as it started to slide away, gave it a single squeeze before letting go. “It’s my pleasure, Astrid.”

She knew the words were as sincere as his smile, and it made something warm flutter in her chest. She gave a shy nod. “I’ll see you... when I see you, I suppose. Not sure we’ll be ‘adventuring’ with the weather like this; I’ve nothing pressing.”

Sebastian nodded. “Alright. I’ll look forward to next time, then. Goodbye, Astrid.”

“G’bye, Sebastian.”

The rain started to pick back up as Astrid made her way back toward her estate, but she was near to glowing with the same peaceful warmth she’d felt earlier, watching the sun’s reflection scatter across the water. She barely noticed it.

Today had definitely helped her mood, unexpected turns and all. She brushed off Bodahn’s concerned fussing when she entered the house soaked to the bone and apologized for the drip trails as she headed for her room. Mother’s door didn’t spark quite the same looming ache it usually did, and Astrid smiled at the difference from even earlier that day.

I wonder what helped.... she thought with an airy, knowing chuckle, pulling in a deep breath that almost caught the remembered scent of his jacket as she slipped into her room to dry off.

[calciseptinefic]

solo and pair

Yuuri!!! On Ice || Victor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki || Hasetsu, Part X notes: also available on ao3. warnings: allusions to polyamory

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part ix

.

A month after Victor's injury when the cherry blossoms bloom, Nishigori and Yuuko quietly marry in a small ceremony at Yuuri's family inn.

"God," Nishigori swears as he and Yuuri wait. They are on the elevated porch on the backside of Yutopia, where the building opens up to a small rock garden and a proud sakura tree that twists pink over the neutral gray stones. "I'm so fuckin' nervous."

Nishigori fiddles with his plain cufflinks. He is dressed in a nice black suit that emphasizes his wide shoulders and powerful thighs. Unlike Yuuri's, Nishigori's suit is new; Yuuri has worn the same jacket and straight-legged slacks to formal events since he was fourteen.

"Dumb, right?" Nishigori mumbles, as though trying to justify his nervousness. "I've performed in front of an audience for years. In front of strangers. I never got stage-fright. But now? When all I'm gonna do is exchange rings and say I do?" He snorts. "I'm terrified."

Yuuri hums, unable to respond. He is oddly nervous as well, though he cannot tell if it is because of his empathy for Nishigori or because any sort of formal event gives him anxiety.

"I mean, it's just my family. Her family. You." Nishigori's broad hands tremble as his fingers twist and twist and twist his cufflinks around. The fidgeting is so contrary to Nishigori's normally confident character that the need to comfort him wells up inside Yuuri. It is not something that Yuuri does often or does well, so when he puts his hand on the curve of Nishigori's bicep, he does so stiffly.

"She's your soulmate," Yuuri says, as it is the deepest comfort he can imagine. "You're meant to be."

Yuuri does not know how he expects Nishigori to react, but it definitely is not for Nishigori to bark out a laugh. The sudden, sharp noise startles Yuuri and his hand jerks away from Nishigori's arm.

"Sorry," Nishigori laughs when he sees the shock on Yuuri's face. "That's just so you, you know. To bring that up."

Yuuri's shock becomes confusion. The transition must show plainly because Nishigori laughs again, though this time less harshly.

"I know how you feel about soulmates," Nishigori elaborates. He deliberately taps his stomach, just to the side of his belly button where his mark rests. "And I'm not saying that it's not… fate or destiny or whatever, but it's… I don't love Yuuko because she's my soulmate. I love Yuuko because she's Yuuko."

Unsure of Nishigori's distinction, Yuuri haltingly says, "But she is your soulmate."

Nishigori is quiet for a moment as he regards Yuuri. Then, abruptly and seemingly non-sequitur, he admits, "I was jealous of you."

"What?" Yuuri asks.

"Before Yuuko and I matched," Nishigori clarifies. "Well, I was jealous after for awhile after that too. You were—you are—a much better skater than I am and Yuuko was—is—so proud of you. It felt like… it felt like all she ever did was talk about you and how good you were. Are. And after we matched—well, not all marks are romantic, and not all matches are good matches. Our dynamic didn't really change and Yuuko—you know she doesn't put a lot of stock into the whole mythos, especially considering that her parents aren't matched."

Yuuri blinks. He knew about Yuuko's parents—everyone did— but he had not known how Yuuko felt about soul marks. Now that he thinks about it, Yuuri cannot recall a time outside her match with Nishigori and her manifestation that she spoke about them.

"I used to have nightmares that you would manifest with the same mark." Nishigori chuckles in the easy, self-deprecating way people joke about old fears. "I would dream that we would go to a mark inspector and find out that mine was actually the wrong color or was smaller on one side, and that you and Yuuko were the right match. That's why I was such a dick to you when you manifested. I knew you had this big-ass thing on your chest, but a part of me felt like I needed to see it to be sure."

Unconsciously, Yuuri presses his palm to his sternum, where the center of his mark is concentrated.

"It's—" Yuuri tries to say. "It's not—"

"I know," says Nishigori gently. "For awhile I thought you might reject your mark and—well, Yuuko and I talked about what we would do if you wanted to…"

Nishigori stops to gesture meaningfully between him and Yuuri, and it takes a moment for Yuuri to realize the implication. When he does, he turns bright red and gasps an involuntary, "Oh."

Then, after another moment, Yuuri says, "Oh."

"Yeah," Nishigori affirms. "Yuuko and I haven't changed our minds, but we both know it's… hypothetical. You just—you've always treated your mark with such reverence that we knew you would never accept anyone but Vi—but your, uhh, your match. So. We never…"

Nishigori shrugs. In the wake of his confession, Yuuri has never been more painfully aware of how much taller and bigger the other man is. Even at seventeen, Yuuri still hasn't hit his finally growth spurt; he is short, thin, and bony, with narrow hips and stick-like limbs. His hard-earned muscle is sparse next to Nishigori's power and his angles look awkward when compared to Yuuko's curves.

"Oh," Yuuri says for a third time.

"I didn't meant to make you uncomfortable," Nishigori assures. Yuuri's face, neck, and ears are on fire. "I just wanted to…" Nishigori heaves a sigh. "I don't know what I wanted."

Nishigori's fingers are back on his cufflinks and—when Yuuri dares to glance at his expression—there's a blush on the flat planes of his face that matches the cherry blossoms and the color of his soul mark. It makes Yuuri think of when they were children, when Yuuri still struggled not to cry every time he fell, when Nishigori dragged him up from the ice and said a little nastily, "It's not a big deal."

There had been pink on Nishigori's cheeks then, too.

"Thank you, Takeshi," Yuuri murmurs as he presses the tips of his fingers to Nishigori's heavy knuckles. The touch is light, more of an impression than a sensation, but the bareness of it still pacifies Nishigori's agitated hands. "I'm glad you told me."

Their gazes meet. Nishigori's eyes are darker than Yuuri's—so brown they are almost black—but in the spring sunlight Yuuri can see the normally invisible edge where Nishigori's iris meets his pupil. Perhaps this is why it is not hard for Yuuri to hold Nishigori's stare. Yuuri can feel the heat lingering beneath his skin, but it is inconsequential to the warmth in his heart.

"Yeah," Nishigori says. "So am I."

.

Yuuri and Nishigori fall into silence after the confession. It is oddly comfortable, given the nature of what has been said. Yuuri never thought he would be on the receiving end of such affection, as his short stature, his long hours at the ice skating rink, and his anti-social nature aren't conducive towards popularity.

It should unsettle him.

It does not.

The quiet is interrupted an indeterminable amount of time later, when Nishigori's second oldest brother, Takeru, taps on the wooden frame of the shoji screen behind them. "Hey," he says. His voice is as deep as Nishigori's. "We're ready. Are you?"

Next to Yuuri, Nishigori inhales. Shakes the nervousness from his shoulders. Exhales. Says, "As I'll ever be," and grins when Takeru smirks at him.

The ceremony is held in a banquet room on the first floor, where the sliding doors are opened to the new green of spring and the cumulus-dotted blue sky above. Most of the family members have already been seated on metal fold-up chairs that Yuuri and Mari arranged that morning. Their murmured conversations come to a halt as Nishigori and Yuuko approach from opposite sides of the hallway, and meet.

"Hi," Nishigori whispers, low enough that Yuuri—who trails closely behind Nishigori—has a difficult time hearing it. "You look beautiful."

Yuuko is dressed in a traditional shiromuku, a white silk kimono embroidered with white cranes in flight. Her hair is up in an elaborate series of curls and accented with a golden wisteria hairpin that hangs down the side of her face and neck. She is as beautiful as Yuuri has ever seen her, but it is the glowing radiance of her smile that outshines everything else.

"I'm happy," Yuuko whispers back.

The ceremony itself does not last long, as it is neither religious nor traditional. The eldest Nishigori brother, Takeda, a lawyer who lives in Saga, is the celebrant. His speech is original and unfamiliar, removed from the common ordinations recited in movies and on television shows. The word 'soulmate' is only used once and given no significance, but that hardly matters when Nishigori and Yuuko cannot look away from one another.

Yuuri's throat tightens constricts when they recite their personalized vows. Nishigori's is about his vague hopes for the future that he hopes they'll build together while Yuuko's is an anecdote about the first time she realized she loved him. It surprises Yuuri when Yuuko talks about something he remembers. They were children then, before any of them manifested, and Yuuri had always thought Yuuko had been annoyed with Nishigori during the train ride to one of their competitions.

Love, Yuuri supposes, is odd like that.

.

When their vows are finished and they exchange rings, Nishigori and Yuuko end the ceremony with an unprompted kiss. It is short, tender, and difficult to watch. Yuuri almost looks away—but then Nishigori pulls away, bundles Yuuko into his burly arms, and lifts her off the ground. She shrieks at the unexpected motion and grips his shoulders.

"Takeshi!" she squeals.

Nishigori laughs and spins Yuuko around as effortlessly as though they were on the ice. The weighted edge of her shiromuku nearly clips one of their relatives in the face.

"Alright, alright," Takeda says over the minor chaos. "Takeshi—bring your wife over here. I need you to sign this certificate so I can register your marriage with municipal office."

After the ceremony, the two family migrate into the main area of the inn. Yuuko's family is much smaller than Nishigori's. Yuuko is an only child, as is her mother, and her father's twin brother is unmarried. Nishigori, on the other hand, is the youngest of four, and in addition to his mother and father, he has three sets of aunts and uncles, several cousins, his maternal grandparents and his paternal grandmother, a sister-in-law and two nephews. Yuuri is the only person in the group who is not related to the newlyweds by neither blood nor marriage. For a moment, Yuuri stands at the threshold and stares at the sea of faces, unsure of where he should sit.

He is saved from his indecision when a petite hand curls into his own.

"Come on, Yuuri," Yuuko encourages. "Sit with me and Takeshi."

Yuuko does not wait for Yuuri to respond. She simply tugs him into motion and guides him to the square, center table. The navy cushion she sits down on has been at Yutopia for as long as Yuuri can remember.

"I didn't say it earlier," Yuuri murmurs once he also sits down, arranging his limbs into the smallest and least awkward configuration he can manage. Then he bows his head and says, quite formally, "Congratulations on your marriage."

Yuuri's words are meet with silence and—after several painful seconds—Yuuri lifts his head to meet Yuuko's eyes. He cannot decipher the emotion he sees nor understand why Yuuko sounds a little sad when she says, "Oh, Yuuri. Always so polite."

It baffles Yuuri, yet before he can begin to parse out the meaning of her words, Nishigori jostles him.

"Don't overthink it," Nishigori warns as he plops down on Yuuko's right, directly across the table. His smile is wide and captivating and warm. "We're here to have a good time, and that's it."

"A good time," Yuuri repeats somewhat cautiously. He looks between Nishigori and Yuuko, then further out at their families, and they beyond that, to Mari leaning against the doorjamb in her maroon work clothes. Her gaze is faraway, but Yuuri thinks that, if she caught his stare, she would give a small, encouraging nod. So Yuuri breathes deep. Steadies himself and his nerves. Says, "I can do that."

"Thatta boy," Nishigori cheers.

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part xi

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