Disclaimer: The Yuri on Ice anime is the property of its authorised owners. These short stories are created by the author. All original settings, characters, etc. remain the property of the author.

Author's Note: I wasn't planning on writing anything for this anime as I had many projects going on already. Then inspiration came. Felt like I will write more than an one-shot so made this a collection. As usual with my one-shot collections, this one is also named after a cocktail.

It's recipe:

2 Cucumbers Sliced

2 cups Pineapple cut in chunks

2 cups Plum wine

2 cups Sparkling Sake

1 Star Fruit Sliced

- Add the fruit and plum wine into a small pitcher and let it sit to soak for at least a few hours (or overnight!).

- Top with sparkling sake, give it a stir and then serve.

I hope it is a nice cocktail.

As for this story - it is inspired from Yakov's sentence from the latest episode, "If your student's trying to console you, you still have a long way to go as a coach, Vitya." Until this point, he complained that Victor was only playing coach so he should come back. With this sentence, it felt like he was acknowledging that Victor was a coach, one with a long road ahead of him but a coach nonetheless.

Enjoy!

Warning: This story contains spoilers for episode 7.

Sparkling Sake Sangria

A Yuri on Ice fanfiction collection

by Galliechan

© Copyright 2016

Third-rate Coach

"Hey, Yakov, can I have a minute?"

Yakov turned, then couldn't help himself and glared at his former student.

"What do you want?"

"I have a ques -"

"Where is your student?" he barked.

"He is doing an intervi -"

"What are you doing here? Stand by him, you third-rate coach!"

His smile dimmed. His blue eyes slid to the corner of the room where his student held his silver medal with a mixture of honor and embarrassment. The Japanese reporter looked proud.

Yakov eased on his glare and looked at the boy who used to be one of his star pupils. Victor loved ice more than any other and ice loved him back, more than any other. Nevertheless, this relationship had an end. Yakov knew it. Victor knew it. The Russian team knew it. The whole figure staking community knew it.

As his coach, Yakov always had to be ahead of Victor's impulses. He could feel his student's restlessness after the season.

Of course, Victor could always skate another season and even win all the gold medals. However, nobody would be surprised. Victor hated this fact so much that Yakov didn't see him skate another season.

Such a shame because Victor thrived on skating. He loved attention. He wanted every eye in the room, in the ring, in the arena to look at him and only him. In figure skating, only skaters could have such attraction.

Yakov thought of commentators - too little attention and too much praising others - reporters - too much asking questions he knew the answers of - and columnists - too little action. He thought of coaches - too little attention and too unselfish. Then he thought of show skaters - too little competitiveness. At long last, he found it - choreographers. He imagined his student as a proud choreographer that could use every note, every nuance of the music to make up more and more expressive yet difficult step sequences. The new generation would win medals with Victor's choreographies.

Yakov readied himself for his last duty as this talented boy's coach. If he didn't come to him, a delightful grin on his lips and eyes bright with a new idea, Yakov would hint at it. Remind how he loved to create his choreographies and complain when Yakov made any changes. How he refused to work with any choreographers. How he already prepared two for the next season before he decided to take a break.

Then the stupid, foolhardy boy became a coach. The least suited job for him.

"It's okay," his student murmured as he turned back to Yakov, "the reporter is a fan."

A fan of Katsuki Yuuri, he meant.

Yakov never imagined his student could leave his proud self aside to root for another skater.

Not an ordinary one, by all means. Every one of his faults aside, Victor has always been clever.

Katsuki Yuuri competed in the Grand Prix Finals. Yes, he finished in the last place and quit skating. Afterward, with his chubby figure, he completed one of Victor's programs - all the jumps, step sequences, hand movements and even facial expressions flawless.

The boy had talent, experience and admiration for Victor. The boy also had a problem that didn't allow him to show his full potential in competitions.

Victor made a smart choice. If he solved one obstacle, he could carry the boy to victory. A good first step as a coach.

Yet, his student was a first-rate skater, third-rate coach. By now, he must have jumped over and over again, only to see confused eyes. Tried to get close, but faced rejections. Understood that this job stood for more than choreography, step sequence or practice. Yakov thought ahead of Victor's impulsiveness and then feigned surprise, gave Georgi instructions that would disturb him just so and looked for signs of rebellion, beg his ex-wife to give lessons to this talented but loud-mouthed boy who wouldn't bother to express his gratitude to his coach.

This job meant he could see the change in his student who asked him to join for hot pot two days ago and now, where his somber eyes kept both Yakov and Katsuki Yuuri in his sight.

"So, what?"

"How do you deal with anxiety before competitions?"

He glowered and barked, "Why would I give tips to my rival?"

His student winced. "Because you are a first-rate coach?"

Oh, calm down, old heart.

Then again, Victor never withheld his compliments.

Victor's look hurt Yakov's heart. The boy saw his flaws, but not how to correct them.

For years, Yakov tuned himself to every tick and blink of this boy and the moment he left his side, this look of helplessness and misery came over his face? Yakov calmed down after he also saw the hope in his blue eyes.

"Ah, the interview's over." His complete attention turned to his student. Yakov watched with interest as his expression softened and his eyes glowed. Even his most heart-wrenching programs didn't create such a tender look on his face as he gazed into Katsuki Yuuri's eyes.

His student was clever. He was also lucky.

The Japanese boy's expression showed no issues of trust or respect between them.

Good.

Victor put his hand to his student's shoulder as soon as he got within an arm's distance. "Yuuri! My former coach, Yakov."

Do a proper introduction, idiot b -!

The boy gave a slight bow, and then put his hand back to his coach's waist, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Feltsman."

He had kind eyes with dark bags under. He leaned to Victor but didn't put his head on his shoulder because of his respect for Yakov. His calm gaze focused on Yakov's eyes, like a student determined to pass this test. Victor, unaware of their exchange, looked at the boy like he held an unlimited capacity to surprise him.

No wonder his student fell for this boy, who dared to do a quad flip at the end of his program while exhausted from a sleepless night and nerves all day. Of course, his ambitious and proud student had to give a larger surprise.

The stupid, impulsive and lucky boy who found someone to surprise him, at last. Who did the least suited job for him to support this boy. Even swallow his pride to ask advice from his old coach.

His boy grew up.

Katsuki Yuuri looked at the Russian men and smiled.

"I - I didn't congratulate Phichit-kun and Celestino yet. Coming back in a minute." He released his hold on Victor's waist and ran to the gold medalist. Victor blinked after him.

Perspective boy. He even started the conversation at a place that he could see Victor and Yakov from the corner of his eyes.

"You are a third-rate coach," Yakov said. His student looked at him with wide eyes. "But you didn't win gold in your first tournament either." Victor blinked as if Yakov had never said supportive words to him before.

What did the boy think he did for all those years?

"Your student is experienced and knows what he wants from his coach. Listen to him, learn his cues. When not sure, ask him." He frowned, "and don't ask me advice, you are not my student anymore!"

Victor smiled. The same smile he gave years ago at a Kiss and Cry. A flower crown still on his head and a dog plushie on his lap, he learned his total score, the highest, his first gold medal. Thereon he turned to Yakov next to him, smiled and said, "Thank you, Yakov!"

Yakov became senile if he got emotional over a smile.

"Thank you, Yakov!"

He grumbled and turned around to leave the building. Georgi was at the doors like he had instructed.

At the sliding doors, he glanced back. Katsuki Yuuri had returned back to his coach's side, his head on his shoulder and eyes closed as Victor played with his messy hair. He pulled his dark bangs aside to put a light kiss on his forehead. The boy opened his eyes, raised his head and squeezed Victor's waist. They gazed at each other, their lips curled upwards without their notice.

Yakov liked this look on his student. Katsuki Yuuri supported him as he leaned on him.

Good.