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Yuuri never meant to become a supervillain. He still doesn't think of himself as one, either—he doesn't do villainy things, like cackle loudly or talk about himself in the third person or fixate on a hero like a total creep.
Um.
Well, does it really count if the hero's Victor Nikiforov? The entire world fixates on Nikiforov; it's practically a sign of life. “She's breathing, we have a pulse, and she's retweeting Victor's last selfie! She'll be okay.”
And he doesn't, like, call Victor out for highly-publicized showdowns, or try to kill his friends and family and his incredibly adorable poodle. Yuuri just...has posters. And a tiny poodle named after him. Maybe a figurine or two, but not creepy ones! Tasteful. Very tasteful.
The thing is, for as long as Yuuri can remember, he's wanted to be a hero like Victor. He knows he can't be exactly like Victor, of course. They're totally different power types—Victor is subtle with his empathy, elegant and clever and, above all, non-violent, while Yuuri is just...physically strong. Really, really strong.
But while Victor can tell what people are feeling, while he can affect what they feel, that doesn't mean he can't be hurt. In some ways, he's more vulnerable that most when he's in the field. There's a reason he works with a team and not on his own.
For a while, Yuuri thinks he might be able to do it: become a hero, one good enough to protect Victor while he's busy protecting everyone else.
After the Sochi debacle, though, that particular dream dies a swift and painful death.
It happens like this:
Yuuri's eighteen, and it's his first time living away from home. His permit is set to expire soon, he has a letter of recommendation from Minako, and he's determined to get his license on his first try, to register as a hero and pass every test and fulfill his lifelong dream.
And to learn to be better. Minako's one of the greats, a hero for the ages, but her powers are very different from his own.
The day he sets out to begin his new life as a superhero, the sun is shining and the birds are singing. Yuuri feels different, almost confident, and it seems only right to wear his new costume, the one Minako commissioned just for him. It's his first time wearing it out in public, yet for once he doesn't feel awkward about the mesh and the half-skirt and the shine of the rhinestones. (“Your power might be plain old strength,” Minako told him when she gave it to him, “But that doesn't mean you can't dress yourself up.”)
He's so eager as he makes his way to the Sochi Council of Heroics—the grandest Council building in the world, and the home of the International Superhero Union. He's not prepared—no one's prepared—for a wave of supervillains, banded together after months of covert planning, to launch simultaneous attacks on superhero strongholds around the world.
Especially the Sochi Council of Heroics.
It ends like this:
For Yuuri, there's confusion, fear and anger, adrenaline. He helps, of course, does what he can when the villains attack—he's on the steps of the building, not quite at the door, and he's directly between the villains and their goal.
There's a moment, this moment he'll cling to afterwards: he finally, finally gets his chance to protect Victor. His dream comes true, in some small way.
But Victor turns and sees him and he must think Yuuri's the source of the rage and desire to kill. Victor points and shouts, “There's one!”
Yuuri actually takes the time to look over his shoulder, but there's no one there, and it dawns on him that Victor Nikiforov thinks he's a villain. He stutters out something that goes completely unheard, but he can see the battle is winding down, see that the villains are being hauled off, straight to holding cells and then to prison.
Sees several heroes start to turn their attention to him.
So he panics, and he runs.
Life continues like this:
He thinks, for a while, about turning himself in. Explaining. He even sets out to do it, once or twice, but it's like his good intentions are a magnet for even more trouble. Besides, the attacks...a lot of people, both heroes and civilians, died during the attacks. No one is getting the benefit of the doubt.
Yuuri's not ready to be locked away.
Minako can't help, either. “It looks bad, Yuuri,” she says with a sigh. “If you'd called me right away, then maybe I could've done something, but you waited. And now with the restaurant thing being held against you, too... I'll try, but I've lost credibility since I retired. Apparently owning a bar isn't 'properly heroic'. Bunch of stuffy, small-minded--”
And so, long after the age of Vigilante Heroism came to a close, Yuuri finds himself covertly saving kittens from tree branches and stopping convenience store hold-ups.
He's a wanted man, but that doesn't mean, he thinks stubbornly, that he can't do some good in the world anyway.
“And look good doing it,” Minako approves when he tells her as much. “That outfit...I did a damn fine job.”
“You didn't even design it,” Yuuri points out. "You just told Yuuko to come up with something good, and then Nishigori did all the work."
“So ungrateful. Only been a supervillain for two seconds and already you're—”
“Minako!”
“Too soon?”
Yuuri's only in costume because he's spent half the morning rescuing Minami's pet turtle yet again (he's starting to think there's something more than irresponsible pet ownership going on there, and he's still not sure how Minami ever got his phone number in the first place). And he's at the bank to use the ATM. The really good ramen place around the corner only takes cash, and he's starving--clambering around rooftops in search of rogue turtles builds up an appetite.
He's not expecting the heist. Or for a superhero team to come crashing in to save the day.
“Not again,” he groans. He already knows how this is going to end: either he gets away and the authorities add another bank robbery to his catalogue of sins, or his luck finally runs out and he winds up in prison.
The superhero team isn't just any superhero team, and Yuuri resigns himself to his life of uncommitted crime finally coming to an inglorious end. Because unfortunately, being Victor Nikiforov's biggest fan doesn't stop Victor Nikiforov's team from taking him in once they're through with the actual thieves.
Yuuri supposes there are worse ways to go out: if he can't be a hero and protect Victor, then at least he can be another success for Victor's records.
Still, though. It's been five years since Sochi, but he's not ready to be done. He really isn't.
Yuuri isn't sure explaining any of this to Yakov Feltsman will help his case, but it's the truth, so he tells him everything. Well, okay, Yakov gets a slightly edited version. Yuuri sees no reason to out himself as Victor Nikiforov's Saddest Fan.
He doesn't expect it to matter, though. Who's going to believe that his entire career as a supervillain is based on misunderstandings, bad timing, and terrible luck? Five years of them?
Take today. How was he supposed to know a team of internationally wanted bank robbers were targeting that bank? And now he's supposed to be the mastermind behind their latest crime? It's ridiculous. Worse, it's not even the first time this has happened. If he had a yen for every bank heist he's been credited with masterminding since the Sochi debacle, he'd have...seven yen. That's seven yen he could use, because he's never robbed a bank.
And even if Yakov believes him—which, judging by his expression, is not likely—Yuuri's still been practicing heroics without a license. That alone makes him a criminal.
He's caught, he's done, he's doomed. He's going away for life. Yakov will laugh in his face and then probably turn his True Confessions into a bedtime story for baby superheroes everywhere: The Silliest Not-Guilty in the Whole Wide World.
Victor's with them in the interrogation room the entire time. So is Mila Babicheva, and the young but infamous Russian Punk, Yuri Plisetsky. Georgi Popovich is at the infirmary, because he managed to get mascara in his eye and apparently it really stings.
“He doesn't feel dishonest,” Victor says when Yakov glances at him, once Yuuri's done with his side of things. Yuuri desperately tries to feel sad and embarrassed instead of pathetically grateful to be in Victor's presence.
“I believe him,” Plisetsky says unexpectedly. Yuuri stares at him in surprise, Plisetsky quickly scowls and looks pointedly away, and Victor—
“Do you to know each other?” Victor asks, eyebrows raised. He's mostly watching Plisetsky, but Yuuri's not stupid enough to think Victor isn't sharply aware of everything happening in the interrogation chamber—probably everything in the building, given the sensitivity of his powers.
“I...don't think so?” Yuuri says, frowning.
Plisetsky sneers at him, and Yuuri fights the urge to flinch away. This...this is not his day. “Moron, you forgot about it? You got my cat down out of a tree once.”
Yuuri has, in his time, rescued a truly insane number of animals from inconvenient heights (especially Minami's turtle). But a few of those instances do stand out.
If Plisetsky was smaller, younger, with a bowl-cut and the very same scowl...
“Oh, that was you?” Yuuri says, surprised. He's pretty sure he'll never forget the sight of that tiny, angry child, calling for Puma Tiger Scorpion to stop playing around and come down already, please. “You gave me a pirozhki after!” he recalls, smiling. “It was delicious.”
They'd actually talked for a while as Yuuri ate; the boy had been fierce and precocious and unintentionally hilarious. Yuuri made the grave mistake of calling the cat 'Puma', only to be sharply corrected, “It's Puma Tiger Scorpion, you jerk.” He's always thought of Edgy Blond Child fondly; it's kind of nice, seeing him now that he's Edgy Blond Teen.
“Of course it was good, my grandpa made it,” Plisetsky sniffs, but he looks a bit pleased to be remembered. How cute, Yuuri thinks indulgently.
“How's, ah, Puma Ti—”
“POTYA,” Plisetsky cuts him off loudly. “My cat POTYA is fine.”
How quickly they grow up, Yuuri muses. “Good! And your grandfather?”
“He's fine, too,” Plisetsky mutters, slightly pink-cheeked. “I'll tell him you asked after him.”
Yakov slaps a hand down on the table between him and Yuuri. “You must be joking,” he snaps.
Mila clears her throat and adds, “I do actually believe him when he says he wasn't actually a part of the bank robbery. I'm not sure anyone else noticed at the time, but the only reason I managed to catch him was because he jumped in to shield a civilian from one of Georgi's glitter sprays.”
Yuuri has regrets on that front. The civilian would've been just fine, and his hair wouldn't currently be shimmering purple under the fluorescent interrogation room lights.
“Wow,” Victor says, bright-eyed, lips twitching. He looks genuinely entertained, so at least Yuuri's accomplished that much in his life. “Amazing! What do you think, Yakov, do we actually have an Accidental Villain on our hands?”
Yakov glowers at everyone, but especially at Yuuri.
Yuuri swallows hard but does not slide down in his seat or burst into tears, which he counts as a significant personal victory. There's a reason that Yakov, in spite of not having any innate powers, is known the world over as The Administrator (and sometimes the Mod God, but Yuuri doesn't really get it).
“Explain to me how an 'accidental villain' even has a supervillain moniker,” Yakov says, voice hard and eyes skeptical.
Yuuri's small moment of triumph is immediately washed away by an intense wave of embarrassment.
When he was younger, he'd come up with any number of different hero names. Most heroes used one when they were on the job or speaking with the press, and a few even refused to divulge their real names.
Yuri Plisetsky was the Ice Tiger; Mila Babicheva was Screw You Gravity, which really made Yuuri wonder about her sometimes; Georgi Popovich was Prince Charming (to himself and in the official records, at least; he was more popularly known as 'That Purple Glitter Guy').
Victor was always just Victor—“Truth in advertising,” he'd once famously told the media, winking.
But Yuuri never really had the chance to choose his own name, in spite of narrowing his list of options down to three favorites by the time of the Sochi debacle. As with his villainy, his name was the product of bad timing and terrible luck.
At least it's original, he reassures himself now. Unique. Memorable.
Plisetsky snickers. “Don't you know what 'katsudon' means, Yakov?” he asks. “It's a pork cutlet bowl. It's like Victor calling himself Borscht or something. You can't even call it a villain name, it's just food.”
“And also an accident,” Yuuri says, dispirited. “I was at a restaurant when someone tried to rob them, and after I was done getting rid of him—”
“Ah-hah! Murder!” Yakov shouts, slamming a fist down on the table. Yuuri starts, and hopes Yakov doesn't wind up injuring himself. “You admit it!”
“What? No! I just bent a folding chair around him so he couldn't move and then called the police! But I was in costume and it was less than two weeks after Sochi, so they started shooting at me as soon as they showed up.” He sighs and adds, “I ran off, and the cops decided I'd turned on my partner or something. But all they really learned about me from the restaurant was a couple new details about my powers, and the meal I ordered, and somehow that turned into me being known as—”
“The Katsudon,” Victor finishes, eyes sparkling, and Yuuri slumps as both he and Mila completely fail to hide their amusement.
“The Katsudon,” Yuuri agrees sadly.
The worst part is, he'd been wearing his costume because he'd finally resolved to turn himself in and explain what had really happened during the attack. He'd just wanted one final meal before possibly giving up his freedom forever.
But after the restaurant incident, he'd realized there was no going back: to the police and the Hero Council, he was a villain through and through. Explaining Sochi was one thing, but two misunderstandings like that, in the space of two weeks?
“Yakov,” Victor says, sounding oddly pleased, “He really does feel quite sincere. About everything.”
Yuuri glances over, astonished and hopeful. He doesn't think there's any getting out of his fate, but to have Victor believe in him, even just this much...
“That doesn't mean anything,” Yakov growls. “Maybe he's—”
Yakov doesn't get to finish his sentence, because that's when the door to the interrogation room slams open and Lilia Baranovskaya strides in. The Lilia Baranovskaya. The hero known to all as Prima, the woman who was a living legend long before Victor Nikiforov was even born.
“Hmm,” she says, fixing Yuuri with the most intimidating stare he's faced in his entire life. “So you're the one. Yakov, we're moving this to the Sapphire Conference Room. This...chamber...is far too cramped.”
Yakov gapes. “Lilia—what on Earth—”
She ignores him completely. “I understand you're responsible for the good work in China a year ago,” Lilia tells Yuuri, who freezes, stunned. Yes, he'd helped to save the Cup of China from some thieves, but...
“I'm sensing a tiny bit of agreement, an even tinier spark of pride, and overwhelming levels of bashfulness and uncertainty,” Victor calls out cheerfully, and Yuuri really isn't sure what to make of the way Victor's beginning to watch him, like he's the most engaging soap opera ever. “It's pretty adorable, really.”
What.
What.
“I mean,” Yuuri says, fumbling his words in his shock. “That. I wasn't—I just...the real heroes there did a lot more.”
“Nonsense!” a very, very familiar voice sings out, and Phichit edges around Lilia and beams around the overly-crowded room at everyone—even Yakov, who's beginning to turn an alarming eggplant shade. “Hiya, Yuuri!”
“Go screw yourself, Hamsterboy,” Plisetsky says immediately.
Phichit's actual hero name is Time Trip, but all it took for everyone to forget that was one instance of referring to himself as the Hamster Hammer. Phichit was under the influence of insane amounts of Red Bull and sugar at the time; Yuuri still has nightmares.
Yuuri also doesn't understand why Phichit doesn't die of embarrassment every time someone references the Hamster Hammer incident, but Phichit seems to find it more amusing than anything.
“No, not you, Chilly Willy Yuri,” Phichit says, waving a hand through the air. “I'm talking to Katsudon Yuuri!”
“Chilly W—wait. We have the same name?” Plisetsky demands, looking appalled. “Disgusting.”
“Oh, Yuri's really so pleased,” Victor says, clapping his hands together once and bouncing on his heels. “Don't believe anything he says, Katsudon Yuuri, he's delighted.”
“LIKE HELL I AM,” Plisetsky snarls, then turns on Phichit. “And it's ICE TIGER, asshole.”
“Ooh, Yuri, is that a touch of hero worship for the handsome young man who saved your kitty from the big bad tree?” Mila asks, batting her eyes.
Yuuri squeaks. Phichit laughs. “ALL OF YOU SHOULD JUST DIE,” Plisetsky shouts, a hero to the end.
“Enough!” Yakov barks, and then clears his throat awkwardly when the Lilia Baranovskaya shoots him an icily unimpressed look. “Not you, Lilia, obviously. Now, Time Trap—”
“Trip,” Yuuri and Phichit say together.
Yakov's eyes narrow. “You know each other?”
“He's my roommate!” Phichit, one of the best and most beloved heroes in the world, agrees enthusiastically. He flashes a peace sign and adds, “Total BFFs, and the only man I trust with my hamsters.”
For a moment, everyone just stares. Except Lilia, who settles for looking increasingly annoyed.
Yuuri can't believe Phichit would admit that out loud—what if he gets in trouble? He can't just say something like 'Oh I'm besties with a supervillain' and not get in trouble! This is why Yuuri argued so hard against moving in with Phichit in the first place!
“He's not!” Yuuri says quickly. “I mean, I'm not! I...there must be a second Yuuri.” He glances at Plisetsky. “A...third Yuuri? Who looks like me. I have my own place. On my own. It's very, um, dank. Lair-y. Tons of spiders and things.”
Phichit smiles at him fondly. “Ah, Yuuri, that was absolutely awful, but it's very sweet of you to try.”
“He's...under my evil sway?” Yuuri attempts. “I've, um, threatened him. Into friendship. It's totally not his fault or his choice in any way.”
Victor puts a hand over his eyes, leans against the wall, and begins to laugh. Kind of uncontrollably, like the laughter's just bubbling up and out of him. Yuuri can't help but stare, charmed right down to his marrow.
“How many heroes,” Yakov asks, dangerously quiet, “have...consorted with this, this Katsudon?”
“I don't consort!” Yuuri yelps, shocked out of his silent admiration for the single most wonderful human being to ever exist.
“Why, Yuuri! Are you thinking dirty thoughts? So scandalous!” Phichit gasps. Mila snorts ungracefully. Phichit is, Yuuri thinks as Victor's shoulders begin to shake, absolutely the worst.
“That is not what I meant!” Yakov says, and Yuuri doesn't need Victor's empathic powers to sense that he's teetering on the edge of despair. Angry despair.
“This is why I wish to move to a larger room,” Lilia says irritably, her tone conveying that if everyone just listened to her, the whole mess would already be sorted out. “It's not as simple as you think, Yakov. The Katsudon is Minako's protege, and she has the most fascinating take on his time as a supervillain.”
“Minako Okukawa? You trained with Minako Okukawa?” Mila demands, suddenly all intensity. Even Victor stops laughing long enough to look impressed.
“And,” Lilia adds sharply, “A number of heroes—like young Time Trip—are all but storming the building, demanding we set Katsudon loose. Not to mention half the city is protesting his imprisonment. Local government is making quite the fuss; the Mayor is particularly displeased.”
Yakov stares at Yuuri.
“I...get a lot of cats out of trees?” he offers weakly, feeling about as astounded as Yakov looks. He knows some people think well of him—but this? "And the Mayor's a very nice man. I walk his dogs sometimes."
Victor clutches at his ribs, tears beading at the corners of his eyes, and he's still laughing. Plisetsky looks deeply, deeply pained by all of them. Phichit is...on his phone.
Noting his stare, Phichit stops typing long enough to explain, “Prima's not kidding us. #FreeTheKatsudon is trending! But Yuuri, you never told me you're known as #DefenderOfCats! How many stories about you have I missed because I was searching the wrong tags? And what will my hamsters think? Don't worry, I'm making sure everyone knows you're also a #HamsterChampion.”
“I'm what now?” Defender of Cats? Trending?
“And why didn't you tell me you were the one to stop that rampaging dinosaur from eating all those tiny schoolchildren last month?” Phichit asks, eyeing his twitter feed with a small frown. “Yuuri! Did you sneak out last night to stop the Mad Chortler from blowing up a hospital? How am I supposed to be your official alibi if you hide things from me?”
“Official alibi?” Yuuri repeats, horrified. "Phichit, you can't say things like that! Mr Feltsman, Prima, I'm sure he's just joking, he would never undermine the system."
Neither of them seem convinced, but Prima actually looks at Phichit with something that could be mistaken for approval. (Yakov looks at both Phichit and Yuuri with something that could be mistaken for homicidal rage.) Yuuri thinks he's beginning to understand how Prima and Minako made such an effective team, back when they were both still active.
“That was you last night?” Victor asks, giving Yuuri a very strange look. “I saw the footage, but it was so blurry. You're very impressive.” His eyes are wide and kind of shimmering, and his cheeks are still pink from his bout of laughter, and Yuuri has no idea what is happening but at least he can always rely on Victor being insanely attractive. Yes, Yuuri thinks wildly. I'm impressive, be impressed. I'm a pork cutlet bowl fatale that enthralls men.
Victor's eyes widen a little more, and it occurs to Yuuri to be very, very worried about whatever emotions Victor's getting from him.
“Wait, wait, none of that matters right now. Rewind. Katsudon, can you get me Minako Okukawa's autograph?” Mila demands, a little wild-eyed. “Yakov, we can let him go long enough for that, yes? It sounds like the worst he'd do is nefariously save a bug from being squashed, anyway.”
“I...think I'd like a nice cell right now,” Yuuri says apologetically, completely shell-shocked. A prison cell sounds luxurious, really—all he needs is a cot and some peace and quiet.
“I'll join you,” Victor says with a bright, eager smile. “We should talk for a while, Yuuri. Get to know each other.”
What. That...what?
Yuuri is done. He can't do this anymore. He slumps dramatically forward onto the table, forehead hitting it with a loud thunk.
The table immediately splits in half and crashes to the floor. Yuri Plisetsky pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.
“Oh no, I'm so sorry,” Yuuri yelps, sitting back up so quickly that he almost overturns his chair as well. Yakov stares down at the ruined table blankly. “I'll fix it! Or replace it! I really didn't mean to—I really am a villain now, aren't I?”
“No, no,” Victor says, laughter still lingering in the curve of his lips and the light in his eyes. Why is he so beautiful? “You're perfect.”
Whaaaaat. What.
"Gross," Plisetsky grumbles.
“Ooooh,” Phichit breathes, delighted. “Yuuri, I recorded that! You can replay it before bed for the rest of your life! You can pretend your Victor Nikiforov poster is talking to you!”
“Uh,” Yuuri says, horribly betrayed at the most unexpected moment, in the worst possible way. “No?”
Yes, he thinks urgently in Phichit's direction, ignoring the fact that neither of them is remotely telepathic. Absolutely yes, do it and I'll forgive the poster comment and maybe even thank you for not saying 'all twenty-six of your Victor Nikiforov posters'.
Phichit nods his understanding. Yuuri has the best worst friend ever.
“I'll take a copy!” Victor says. And then, with a sly smile, he asks, “...Poster?”
He also has the worst best friend ever, Yuuri thinks as he wills himself to disappear into thin air. Phichit tells Victor, "One copy? I think I can make that happen," like the traitor he is.
“Are you recording my interrogation?” Yakov bellows at Phichit, gripping his hair. Yuuri feels another pang of worry for Yakov's well-being; Victor catches his eye and winks. Why, Yuuri wonders, is Victor winking at him? A couple hours ago, Victor was apprehending him, and now he's smiling and winking and calling him perfect. Is this some kind of new interrogation technique? Yuuri's certainly finding it very effective. Which...oh no, Victor is absolutely able to tell with his powers.
Yuuri wishes the table had survived a little longer, so he could bash his head against it again.
“...If I say no, will you believe me?” Phichit asks Yakov with a charming smile and a total absence of guilt. “Ooops, juuuust posted! Absolutely not on purpose, gosh what a mistake! Hashtag CanYouBelieve, Hashtag KatsudonCutie—” Victor whips his own phone out so quickly Yuuri wonders if he's secretly a speedster to boot.
Yuuri stares. “Katsudon what—”
“Also an official hashtag for you!” Phichit says. “You have quite a few, you know? I already knew a couple, but today has been a real learning experience.”
“KatsuDone is the best,” Plisetsky tells Phichit, and then immediately blanches.
“Oooh, Fire Tabby, are you one of his fans?” Phichit asks, delighted.
Fans? What? Yuuri's an accidental villain, he doesn't have fans. Alright, so the Mayor is very encouraging, and there are a few restaurants out there which keep trying to give him food for free, and six of the seven banks he's been credited with robbing have sent him 'We Know It Wasn't You' gift baskets, but that's just because Sochi is full of kind, supportive people who are always willing to help an unintentional supervillain down on his luck.
Plisetsky bristles. “ICE TIGER. And I'm not just some fan, okay, I'm not a loser like that moron with the turtle. I started the DefenderOfCats tag—shiiit, I never said that. I said nothing.”
“Lies,” Victor accuses gleefully, before turning back to his phone.
Guy with a turtle? Is he talking about...? “You know Minami?” Yuuri asks, blinking. He leans forward eagerly. “Do you know why his turtle keeps ending up on rooftops? I really don't understand how it keeps happening. And he calls me over each time. It's not that I dislike turtles, and I definitely don't think he should be going out on rooftops himself! I just... Does it need to happen every week?”
“Is he for real?” Yuri Plisetsky asks Phichit.
“One hundred percent,” Phichit affirms.
“Oh my GOD, Katsudon. Turtle Loser's a freaking licensed superhero,” Plisetsky tells Yuuri. “He actually flies. That is one of his powers. The other is talking to turtles. So why do you THINK he keeps calling you over to crawl around on his roof?”
Yuuri eyes him cautiously. “Is he...investigating me?”
"I give up," Yuri Plisetsky informs the universe. Yuuri feels his pain, even if he doesn't really understand where it's coming from.
“So Minamumbler knows him too,” Yakov growls, throwing his hands up in the air. “Fantastic.” Yuuri tries to wrap his head around 'Minamumbler', and then wonders if it's too soon to simply renounce life.
“It's Minamiracle,” Lilia corrects Yakov curtly, which is somehow even worse.
“DefenderOfCats, KatsudonCutie, KatsuDone, FreeTheKatsudon...” Victor murmurs, successfully ignoring everything and everyone in favor of his phone. “Now, what other hashtags are there? Oh, oh, Time Tap—”
“Trip,” Yuuri and Phichit sigh in tandem.
“Yes, yes, whatever you say, I found your video!” Victor says, waving their correction aside. “Listen!” Yuuri can hear the tinny sounds of him destroying Hero Council property and dooming himself to a life in solitary confinement. He wilts.
“About that autograph,” Mila tries again, over Video Yuuri's stuttering.
“OUT! ALL OF YOU! OUT. I AM DONE,” Yakov shouts, and Yuuri's more than a little sad it covers up Video Victor's baffling, improbable words to him. Poster Victor will definitely be repeating them on a nightly basis, though. Assuming he's allowed to keep a poster of Victor and a copy of the video when he's been locked away for the rest of his life.
“I go where I wish, when I wish,” Lilia says, each word bitten off sharply, eyes narrowed.
“I didn't mean you, of course,” Yakov says quickly, even though he's all but vibrating with rage. “Time Truck—”
“Trip,” Yuuri and Phichit chorus.
Yakov gnashes his teeth. Yuuri's never actually seen a real live tooth-gnashing before, and decides almost immediately that he never needs to see one again.
“We are all,” Lilia says, raising her voice just a bit, “going to the Sapphire Conference Room. Right now. Mila, we shall see about that autograph later. Katsudon, the table is immaterial. Everyone else, be silent, put your phones away, and move.”
The Sapphire Conference Room is a painful mix of salmon-pink-and-depression-gray. It is decidedly not sapphire. Yuuri begins to wonder if maybe he's better off as a villain after all.
The Sapphire Conference Room is also very large, and surprisingly full. Minami...racle is there, clutching his turtle. And...
“Yuuri!” Christophe calls out gaily as Yuuri steps through the door. “You naughty boy, skipping out on our club night to save human lives—you truly are quite the villain, aren't you? And all you texted me was 'Something came up'? I'm a hero myself, you know, I could have helped you with the Mad Chortler.”
That's true, but Yuuri can't quite bring himself to work with someone known as the Ejaculator--at least not when some of the people he's saving are impressionable children. He might be an unintentional supervillain, but there are lines. "I'll keep that in mind," he says, then remembers he's about to be tossed into a dark hole somewhere.
“You know Yuuri, Chris?” Victor asks, and he looks unaccountably happy about it.
“You should see him work a pole,” Chris tells Victor, who promptly trips over his own feet and very nearly hits the ground. Yuuri automatically reaches out to steady him, accidentally breaking the reinforced power-resistant handcuffs Yakov insisted he wear outside of the interrogation room.
“Oh, sorry!” Yuuri cringes, putting his wrists back together like that will somehow make the cuffs whole again. Yakov stares at him tragically.
“My hero,” Victor says, and...flutters his eyelashes. Victor Nikiforov, Yuuri discovers in that moment, is genuinely terrible at fluttering his eyelashes. It might actually be the least attractive thing he's ever done in his life, Yuuri notes dazedly, and is immediately appalled with himself for finding that hopelessly endearing.
Victor eyes him oddly, then shrugs off whatever emotions Yuuri's broadcasting and sways a little closer, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Now, Yuuri. What's this I hear about pole-dancing?”
Yuuri emits an involuntary meep. Victor beams at him like he's never heard anything so darling in his life, then pouts when Yuuri slides out from under his arm.
"He can show you," Chris says helpfully. "I have a pole on me." He pauses, smiles innocently, and says, "Well. Two, but only one's for dancing."
Yuri Plisetsky gags loudly and Victor chuckles. Everyone else is, thankfully, wise enough not to ask any of the obvious questions.
Yuuri wonders if it's too late to request the death penalty. He'll retract his confession. He'll tell Yakov whatever he wants to hear. He'll solemnly swear that he's never saved a kitten in his life. He kicks six of them every morning before breakfast! He sees dogs and doesn't stop to coo over them! He's the purest evil.
“You pole-dance in public?” Phichit demands, hurt. “Without me? We took those classes together, Yuuri.”
"I'm not contributing to the delinquency of minors," Yuuri says, aghast.
"Yuuri, I'm twenty."
"You're younger than me, and I'm not old enough to go out clubbing with Christophe Giacometti," Yuuri says. "No one is."
“I thought we were here to discuss a villain,” someone mutters—Yuuri recognizes him, actually. Seung-gil Lee, the Mathematician. They're not precisely friends, but Yuuri once helped him fish the Mayor's limo out of a river, and that led to them having occasional puppy playdates. Vicchan's very fond of Seung-gil's husky.
And of course there's the Rostelecom thing, which Yuuri tries not to think about.
Michele Crispino—known to all as Mickey, though he's technically Sir Chivalry—scoffs, “He's barely a villain, but barely a villain is still a villain.” He folds his arms over his chest and looks belligerent, which is...not really unusual.
Next to him is his sister Sara, the famous hero Sala, who waves at Yuuri furiously. “Katsudon!” she calls cheerfully. “It's good to see you again. Don't listen to Mickey, Seung-gil, Katsudon's not a bad guy at all.”
"I don't care," Seung-gil says irritably.
“Hey, Sara,” Yuuri says a little reluctantly, wincing when Mickey glares.
“Oh, what's this?” Chris asks, eyebrows raised. “You all know Yuuri as well?”
“Rostelecom, two years ago,” Sara explains. “He helped us save the day and then disappeared as soon as we were all done hugging, but we've kept in touch by email.”
“...Hugging?” Yakov repeats, with a horrified fascination Yuuri understands all too well. Seung-gil's face darkens at the memory, and Mickey shudders. Yuuri regrets Rostelecom on a number of levels.
Lilia clears her throat, and the room falls obediently silent. Prima might be retired, Yuuri notes, but she's clearly as powerful as ever, in her own authoritative and terrifying way. “Thank you all for coming. The Senior Council has given Yakov and myself the power to decide how the Katsudon Affair is to be handled, and I intend to be done within the next half hour or destroy us all trying. First, who here is personally acquainted with Katsudon?"
Only Yakov, Victor, and Mila don't immediately raise their hands. Phichit raises both of his. Lilia looks mildly pained as she says, "Now. Is there anyone here who believes Katsudon truly is a supervillain?”
The hands lower; Sara yanks Mickey's down when he hesitates.
“He's vicious at Mario Kart,” Guang Hong informs the room. “But...not really a villain? The Cup of China thing probably wouldn't have ended well for us if he hadn't shown up. And Leo and I have gaming nights with him and Phichit and he seems pretty okay to me.”
“He hogs the Cheetos,” Leo adds. “But he's pretty generous with Doritos and he always buys more dip.”
“He's the hero we deserve!” Minami declares staunchly. His turtle looks almost as long-suffering as Yakov and Yuri Plisetsky.
Emil offers, “He's a good at hugging.”
“He saved my cat,” Chris shrugs.
Yuuri...doesn't remember that. “I thought we met at a club?” he asks.
“Yes, and I bought you a drink because I recognized you as the person who saved my cat,” Chris says patiently. “Sentient tree, chasing all the neighborhood pets? Personally, I thought that deserved a free drink or two or sixteen. And then you turned out to be adorable and the best drunk of all time, so obviously I kept in touch.”
“Oh.” That...actually makes a certain amount of sense. And he remembers that tree. He has scars from that tree.
“Well,” Victor says seriously, and everyone falls silent at his tone, “I have reservations.”
Yuuri's heart sinks. But, he thinks, Victor isn't the world's greatest hero for nothing—he has to keep everyone's safety in mind, has to be responsible and balanced in his judgment. Even if he personally does think Yuuri's not a villain, that doesn't mean he can just throw caution to the wind.
“Is that so?” Lilia asks, eyes narrowed.
“Yes, for two. Under Katsuki, in two hours, at the new Turkish place downtown. So if we could wrap this up...”
What.
What?
“Vitya,” Yakov says ominously. The assembled heroes look far too intrigued, and Chris' eyes twinkle dangerously.
“Then you believe he is, as he says, not a criminal? At least, beyond his...vigilantism,” Lilia asks Victor coolly. She seems content to ignore that Phichit has not only taken his phone back out of his pocket, but is circling Victor and Yuuri to get their best angles as he records the proceedings. Yuuri pulls a face at Phichit, who sticks his tongue out in return.
“Well, I can't agree to that,” Victor says with a debonair smile. “In the time I've known him, he's stolen my attention, my breath and my heart." Chris whistles, looking impressed. Yuuri's jaw drops. "That's quite a lot of thievery in just a matter of hours. So! I've decided! Yuuri clearly requires rehabilitation, and I'll mentor him through it! I'll turn him into the greatest hero this world has ever known!”
Yuuri's pretty sure he's screeching, but so are Yakov and Yuri Plisetsky, so at least he has company.
“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Yakov rages.
“YOU'LL RUIN HIM,” Plisetsky howls.
“I LOVE IT!” Phichit cries, actually lowering his phone in his excitement.
“And the rest of you?” Lilia asks the heroes at the table.
“Whatever,” Seung-gil says, clearly ready to be done. “Once again, I don't care. As long as he never hugs me again.”
“Yes! Yuuri!” Sara cheers, bouncing in her seat. “Look at you, finally getting your chance! I'm so happy for you!”
“Stay away from my sister, villain,” Mickey warns him, eyes narrowed.
"Oh hush, Mickey."
“Excellent, everyone agrees! We'll start immediately!” Victor decides. “...After dinner. I'm very serious about that reservation.”
Lilia turns to Yuuri, eyes him for a long moment, and then says, “Hmm. Well. The people have spoken, and so have the idiots in this room. Katsudon, you'll be on probation for the duration of a year; if you sufficiently impress us within that time, and restrict any wrongdoings to the level of hackneyed romantic metaphor—”
“Hackneyed?” Victor repeats, terribly offended. Phichit chokes.
“—then you will be issued your license.”
Yuuri's breath catches. A license? Was she actually—was the Prima herself saying... “You mean,” he says, swallowing, “I'll be a hero? A real one?”
Lilia arches a single eyebrow. “Hmm. Well, an official one.”
“I don't believe this,” Yakov sputters. “None of this—Vitya can't—”
“Now, we can announce the news and get the picketers to go home,” Lilia says, clapping her hands together sharply. “They keep chanting things and it's terribly annoying.”
Picketers?
“And Yuuri can introduce me to Minako Okukawa,” Mila says rapturously. "And she will immediately sense my boundless potential and offer to teach me and either adopt me or marry me, I don't really care."
“After dinner,” Victor says. “Priorities, WooHoo Gravy, priorities.”
“It's Screw You Gravity,” Mila tells him irritably. “How long have we worked together? And you still never get it right! Just what do you think my power is, anyway?”
Yuuri turns to Phichit, mouthing wordlessly. Phichit smiles back, blinking back tears. “Yuuri,” he says, “This is real. Real.”
“I...” Yuuri can't even follow up on that; he can only shake his head in disbelief.
“This isn't done!” Yakov shouts, even the crown of his head going mottled red with fury. “Victor is no mentor! And we will need to hold an official hearing at the very least—”
“And more importantly,” Phichit adds loudly, “Does this mean Yuuri gets retroactive pay for all his heroics to date? That seems fair to me. Now, the going rate for rescued kittens is, hmm, let me see...”
“I have the numbers,” Seung-gil says, sitting up. “Time Tap—”
“Trip,” Yuuri and Phichit groan.
“If you give me a list of his good deeds, I can draw up a balance for what he's owed, minus the standard fines for vigilantism. Since the Katsudon's been based in Sochi for the last several years, the funds will, of course, be provided by the Sochi Senior Council.”
Yakov and Lilia freeze. They look almost...hunted, Yuuri can't help but notice. “I must see to the crowds,” Lilia says quickly, turning sharply and stalking away. “That is all, everyone, you're dismissed.”
“ADJOURNED,” Yakov adds, avoiding Phichit's stare. “THIS MEETING IS OVER. EVERYTHING RESOLVED.”
“So I can mentor him? I'm officially his hero coach now?” Victor asks, delighted.
Yakov pauses. “Absolutely not—”
“But, retroactive pay,” Phichit says again. “The hospital thing last night is worth a fortune—”
Seung-gil smiles thinly as he puts pen to paper. Yakov makes a break for the door, shouting, “Done! The matter of Katsudon is decided! No further discussion! Do whatever the hell you want, Vitya, you always do anyway!”
Seung-gil deflates, disappointed. Phichit shrugs philosophically and says, "Ah well. The money would've been nice, but what can you do?"
"Lodge a formal complaint," Seung-gil says immediately.
"Not necessary!" Yuuri says quickly, because Phichit actually looks like he's considering it. "I'm fine with it." He's better than fine. Sara's right: this is his chance, a chance he's been waiting for since he was twelve years old, watching Victor face off against the dread Lilac Fairy on Yuuko's television.
“Great!” Victor says with a satisfied smile. “That's that, then! Now, Yuuri, tell me everything about you. We need to build some trust as mentor and student, don't you think? Especially after your grievous crimes against my person. Are you seeing anyone? Who have you dated in the past? You and Phichit are purely platonic, yes? What do you look for in a man? Or, for that matter, a woman? Are you open to co-parenting a poodle?”
“Now, now, Victor, save some of it for dinner,” Chris says, laughing. “You'll have nothing left to talk about!”
“Nonsense. At dinner we can talk about me,” Victor says, waving a hand dismissively. “And there's also a poster I'd like to discuss.”
Yuuri stares down at his broken cuffs, acutely aware that he's gone bright red all over. “Can I take these off now?” he asks hopefully.
(The thing about being an empath, the thing no one ever told Victor when he was starting out, the thing he never tells anyone else now, is that it's terribly, terribly empty. He's very good at reading what people feel, and even better at influencing their emotions, but at some point the rest of the world's become so...
Colorless. Dull. Flat.
He's an exceptional hero, of course; a lack of motivation hardly prevents him from saving lives. But there are times when he realizes that he doesn't even notice the people he helps anymore, what they look like or the things they say to him—only how their terror and anger and relief feel to him.
He's long since stopped trying remember the last time he felt an emotion that's his.
And then his team arrests the Katsudon, and suddenly his world's full of color again.)
After dinner, Yuuri brings Victor back to the apartment he shares with Phichit and introduces Vicchan to his namesake.
Victor gasps, "What a good boy," immediately crouching down to let Vicchan wriggle all over him. It's by far the greatest moment of Yuuri's entire life. Except then Victor promptly outdoes himself by glancing back up at Yuuri and saying, inexplicably, "You're amazing."
"Not as amazing as you," Yuuri says honestly.
Phichit clears his throat, and Victor and Yuuri both jump—they hadn't even noticed him sitting in the kitchen, eating his dessert and reading the daily paper. Before Yuuri can apologize, Phichit smiles and says, “Yuuri, why don't you show him your room?”
“Yes, show me your room!” Victor says enthusiastically, lighting up. “And the poster!”
The...poster. Posters. Four walls covered in posters.
“After,” Phichit interjects, because in the end he's even more a superhero than he is a troll, “Victor tries some of my khao tom.”
“Of course,” Victor agrees gallantly, glancing between them with a curious smile. “Yuuri?”
“Yeah, just—one second. Start without me,” Yuuri says, and bolts for his room.
"Yuuri?" Victor calls after him, sounding terribly bereft. "Yuuri, I can sleep with you tonight, right?"
Yuuri runs face-first into his door.