A 25 year old Viktor watched from the side lines, it was an unusual sight to see the senior world champion watching from the side lines, he still wore his Russian team jersey but he had no intention of putting his skates on any time soon. He'd politely wave and say a quick hello to anyone that called his name, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck as he'd flash that infamous smile of his in their direction, he still wasn't used to the short hair quite yet from the way he ruffled his sliver locks, before turning back to watch the junior skaters warming up on the ice.

The last year had been rough but he didn't show it. Neither of them did.

"She'd of been so proud of you Printsessa*."

~~~~~~~~~

It had started 6 years ago, the death of their mother, before then things like cancer and Leukemia were just words and not a nightmarish world that would engulf their little family for the next few years. Their mother was kind and beautiful, both of the siblings got her beautiful blue eyes, she'd been a ballerina in her younger years before she had Viktor at 24 and retired to a quieter life as a dance teacher at the Vaganova Academy of Russian Ballet. She was 36 when she had Katrina, her 'miracle baby' as she called her and she really was. She never once hindered on his creative or unorthodox desires or tell him he couldn't do things like grow his hair out or want feminine looking costumes - she'd simply smile and say "if that's what you want my little Knyaz'*". Watching her face light up with joy when she watched him skate, when she watched her Knyaz' take to the podium to receive a Gold medal, her face would always light up with a sense of pure joy that fueled his desire to win. When their father walked out on them, Katrina was still a cute little toddler at the time so didn't know what was going on and Viktor never pushed his mother on finding out why he did, their mother held their little family together and raised her 2 children alone. When he felt...different to other boys, he found it hard to tell her, tripping over his word in nervousness which she simply smiled at and told him she already knew and loved him for who he was - Yuuri's mother reminded him a lot of her in that aspect. He loved his mother. They both loved her with all their hearts.

Which was why the day he found bloodstained tissues in their family home bin and their mother lying next to the toilet, bruised and blood dripping from her mouth, he knew things wouldn't be the same. He remembered being a scared 19 year old, waiting through various tests, CAT scans, X-rays and MRI scans in the hospital for the results, his small 6 year old sister sitting in the floor and drawing, not knowing what was going on or why they were at the hospital after Yakov picked her up from school for him. When the doctor told them it was Leukemia, he didn't know how to breath. His mother was dying of an incurable cancer and he couldn't do anything about it. How was he going to tell Katrina? How do you tell a 6 year old that their mother was dying? How do you continue on like everything's normal?

They spent the next 6 years watching their mother slowly deteriorate, growing weaker and paler everyday but she still loved to watch them skate, when she could no longer walk, something that would break the heart of a former dancer, Viktor had Yakov video tape them, even at practice, to show her. It got her through the harder days. The Chemotherapy eventually took her long silky hair so Viktor also cut his hair, making her smile when he joked about making it into a wig for her. When she found it hard to go outside for walks or was alone in the house for a while with Viktor skating and soon Katrina joining him, they brought home Makkachin who kept her company through the day. When she could hardly speak, Katrina would stay by her bed side and sing for her or play her favourite songs from the ballet on her violin. They kept their private lives private and away from the peering eyes of the press but they took every opportunity to find happiness and laughter when they could. They knew she didn't have long to wait for such moments.

They said goodbye 10 months ago.

They had been there in her last moments at her bedside, their mother had been growing rapidly weaker and had trouble breathing over the last week so she was moved to hospital. She didn't fight them on it, she knew her days were numbers yet she seemed to take it with the same grace and dignity as she always did. The last thing she said to him, "Knyaz' promise you'll look after Katrina, promise you will stay together", and the last thing she heard before she slipped into her eternal sleep, "I promise mama."

Katrina cried more than a river that night. Viktor pulled her close to his chest and stroked her long silver hair as she cried, he couldn't let her sleep alone, not while she was so upset and having her near comforted him too - reminding them they weren't alone. So the 3 of them (Makkachin included) squished all together onto his bed and just let out the sadness in their hearts. Even after Katrina had managed to drift off to sleep, Viktor couldn't sleep so easy and just watched her sleep, her cheeks still red and wet from crying as she clung onto him like a baby monkey as if she was afraid he'd disappear if she let go. She was as precious as the day he first saw her, being a cute 12 year old boy, from the moment he held his newborn baby sister, sleeping comfortably in his arms, he had wanted to protect her and love her in the unconditional way that only a big brother could.

How could he ever let go of his precious little sister?

~~~~

'My precious little sister.'

The music snapped him back to the present, his eyes on a small 13 year old girl skating dressed in a short pink and black dress in her first Junior National Championship final, her long grey hair tied up in a oh so familiar pony tail. Watching her skate onto the ice from the side lines, he couldn't help but smile as she skated, she looked happy, so complete, to finally be taking her place on the competition ice, she looked like she truly belonged there.

An 13 year old that skated with passion and musicality beyond her years, her technical ability was also amazing, effortless and graceful, the way she landed a triple flip perfectly and with seamless ease in her free program – note to self, make sure she doesn't catch wind of quads too early. She enchanted her audience, she was an angel that had flown down from heaven itself to dance for the mortals before her. She didn't skate, she glided. She was meant for the ice, anyone could see that.

He knew one day she was give him a run for his money, one day she'd make a bid to out do him, but for now he'd watch her as she began to bloom like a perfect white rose before his eyes. She was going to win the Gold for certain this year, Viktor just knew it.

When she finished, posed perfectly for all to take in, she was met by a deafening cheer by the spectators as flowers feel to her feet– she was saying 'yes, this is me. I am here. Look at me and only me.'

The princess of Russia had been born in that moment. Like a regal phoenix, she had emerged from the flames with her head held high and a bright future ahead of her.

The loudest cheer of all, of course, had to be coming from Viktor himself.

"KATRINA!"

The young blue eyed girl turned away from the crowd, hearing her brother's cry clearly cut through the rest, "VIKTOR!" She instantly took off in his direction, pretty much jumping into his arms to be swung round a few times in glee, "did you see me Viktor? Did you see my triple flip? Did you see my combination jump?"

"Yes yes printsessa I saw all of it," booping her on the nose affectionately, "I will always watch you printsessa always."

And in her childish naivety she thought he would. He'd promised, right?

_____________

* Printsessa meaning princess in Russian and Knyaz' meaning prince in Russian