The ISU Championship Men's free program, long awaited in the Katsuki household, takes place today in Helsinki. The television serves as a hearth in the resort, usuals and tourists alike huddling around it whenever these events come around. The warm light of the room differs entirely from the cold and apprehensive world within the screen. Minako sits smack in the center of the chabudai, per usual, downing a special selection of booze for the occasion. Against my good judgement I'm drawn to her side and plop down on a worn red cushion.

"Ey Victor, you're finally awake!" she smiles, throwing her arm around my neck. This sentiment confuses me, and I squint over to the time in the news crawl.

"It's only quarter to eight," I complain, "I'm up particularly early."

"Well, it's quarter to three in Finland!" she puffs out her cheeks, "Were you trying to miss Yuuri's performance?"

"Minako," I groan, "I wouldn't miss it for the world. But we've still got three hours before any competing starts, and I don't care so much for theatrics and commercials."

She snickers at that, stretching her knees beneath the table. "Fair enough. After all those years competing, I thought you might have grown fond of all that stuff."

I rub my knees, a little disappointed by the assumption that I lack authenticity. "Nope."

Minako sighs, "I guess hot guys are just hot guys unless you have a dream of standing beside them. Those three, ya know, they get a kick out of the whole thing."

Only then do I realize the Nishigori triplets slouching in front of the chabudai beside us, each of them scrolling through various web pages on their netbooks, littered with walls of text and figure skater portraits. They acknowledge us too when they realize they've been mentioned, nodding at me.

"Hmph. And how are you three coming along with your private lessons?" I ask, grinning in a purposely terrifying way. They're growing up too fast, and I know they can go places with their extensive interest in the sport.

Lutz explains nervously, "It's...it's coming-"

"It's coming along!" Loop and Axel finish with confidence.

"Alright you three! Someday you won't just be hopeless fangirls!" I joke. They smile with an innocence I can't help but admire. Minako laughs too, taking advantage of the unusual break in the wall I've built up around myself to pour me a shot.

"Minako, it's still morning-"

"Stress doesn't discriminate, so why should alcohol?" she jabs me in the side. I sigh, holding the glass up to my nose.

"Is this whiskey?" I ask.

"You betcha, 99 proof. Straight from Scotland."

I sip it, the liquid stinging my tongue. Just because I'm Russian doesn't mean I fancy alcohol, but I certainly don't hate it either. Drinking before eight in the morning, however, seems a little ridiculous...especially when it isn't vodka.

The room settles, and the warm ups continue. The MC seems to pick favorites, concentrating the attention of the broadcast on specific pairs of men. I slouch over the tabletop, listening passively to the foreign voice without reading the subtitles. I was never very good with the kanji anyhow.

Time passes slowly without a second hand.