"Yuuri, when he means business, is almost frightening to be around" - about Yuuri skating.
When Katsuki comes to St Petersburg, Yakov doesn’t think much of it.
He screams at Vitya, nonetheless, because he must be out of his mind to think he can coach and compete at the same time. He doesn’t tell him that in the privacy of his head, he thinks that if someone could do it, it would be him. That’s not necessary. Vitya already knows.
He prepares himself to coach another head, either way, and gazes seriously at Katsuki’s movements, evaluating.
The boy is undeniably good. A little rough at the edges, nerves frazzled, but good.
With a little regret, Yakov thinks he’ll have to start polishing his english again. But Katsuki speaks russian. Accented, but precise, he addresses the world with concentrated eyes and a blush on the bridge of his nose. (When asked, he tells him nervously that he’s taken online classes to learn russian since he was fourteen, and glances at Vitya like that’s something to do with him. Vitya smiles, squeals and tackles him to the ground, like that’s the most heartfelt love declaration he could receive. Later, Yakov learns that it is.)