Yuri On Ice - Waiting (Viktuuri)

I Still Remember...

The story is being told by a third person. You can decide if it's a man or woman. There is no difference. Also that person speaks about the past while he/she is visiting Russia again after some years. Also the dialog which is in italics is a dialog that took place in the past.

It's Christmas. It's snowing. I wonder how many years it have been. Five? Six? after i left Russia for ever? I have really lost count. And yet, here I am again, like every previous Christmas. I wonder when will I stop visiting. I guess never.

I can't believe that I actually lived in Saint Petersburg for four years before I move back to my home country again. Russia is amazing and my life was beautiful as I met so many different kind of people and way of living. Yet that little dog changed my life completely.

It feels like yesterday.

It was fall when I first moved to Saint Petersburg. I had decided to do my PhD at one of Saint Petersburg's universities, on the Russian history and culture. I was really excited to start my new life in a new city and in a brand new and unknown country like Russia. I found a small but cozy and beautiful apartment at the streets of the city, a little away from the center, at this quiet neighborhood. Yes... this neighborhood was so quiet that I wanted to kill my self from the boredom, but now I miss the peacefulness this neighbor had given me.

Unfortunately most of the small shops around here are now closed but then all of them were working and were giving a beautiful note of life in this cold and white country. The one that I liked the most was the flower shop next to my building which was owned by an old but kind lady, Mrs Olga. Everyday, before I went to the university I was passing by her flower shop to buy a rose, sometimes a white one, or a red one, a pink one or even an orange one!

Oh how much I loved roses! I still like them but then they were a very important part of my life and that shop was giving me strength. And not only the shop but and the stray dogs and cats at the neighbor. I couldn't get enough of them so I started to feed them, pet them and play with them whenever I had time.

And then it was when I noticed him.

A big, light brown poodle, standing all alone at a corner next to the road looking blankly in front of him. The first time I saw him I thought that he was waiting for his owner, but the days were passing and he was still there waiting. I thought that it was weird so I decided to approach him one afternoon when I returned from the university. When I stood in front of him he didn't react at all. He didn't bark, or move his eyes from the road. His eyes were big and black, kind yet soulless. His fur was messy but soft and he was skinnier than he was supposed to be. I felt really bad for him and worried so I entered the flower shop to ask the old lady about him.

"Oh... you are talking about Makkachin?" she asked me smiling sadly.

"His name is Makkachin? Wow! That is unique!" I remember saying to my self. It was a beautiful and playful name. It really suited him.

"Yeah... he is such a good dog. What about him?"

I singed a little and looked at the dog. "You know... he is waiting there for so many days. Where is his owner? He owns a collar alright, so you can't say that he is a stray dog like the rest..." I said in disbelief. The old woman lost her smile and looked sadly at me. I remember that she had actually a grave expression, not just a sad one. But that was justifiable.

"His owners died on an accident at that very spot seven years ago." her voice was slow and quiet. I was shocked. You know where this is going right? You always saw things like that in the movies and you read them on the newspapers and in books but you never expect something like that to happen to you, right?