CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED SIX
The velvet heat of skin-to-skin was like the warmth of nothing else. It was intoxicating, and it was the first thing Viktor noticed when he found himself wide awake at the inglorious hour of 2:42am. His beloved was sound asleep in front of him, back to his chest, blankets pulled up to their ears with their pile of dogs all around, snoozing quite happily. Wanting nothing more than to fall asleep again himself, Viktor closed his eyes and snuggled in close, listening to the slow, deep breaths ahead of him. It was no use though; it felt like hours passed and he hadn't been able to drift off. With a reluctant grumble, Viktor reached to the night-stand behind him and lifted his phone, seeing 2:58am on its face.
Slate eyes stared up at the ceiling, black and invisible in the void of the dark. Something gnawed at him, deep in his gut, like a ravenous hunger that had no specific craving. A trip to the bathroom hadn't helped; it just turned the gnawing into an itch, like some incredibly important memory trying to dig its way out. Viktor's eyes had adjusted to the low light by then, and he could see the ghostly outline of the furniture. His feet were ready to walk him back to bed, but nothing in his head would send the signal to move forward. Instead, they shuffled him towards the dresser directly behind him, and hands went pawing for a t-shirt and sweatpants.
With a parting kiss to his partner's sleepy brow, Viktor made sure the pack didn't cause any extra noise, and departed their room. Bare feet felt at the cold floor, finding carpet along the way, before getting to the staircase just near their door. He thump'd down each step until getting to the cold tile floor behind the kitchen, and slid his way through like a wraith, gliding with confused intentions until returning to the Parlor room, where his gut had told him to go.
Unexpectedly, and yet not, the room had been cleaned and reset, though the projector and screen had been left behind, tidy and ready for use another night. He clicked on a lamp, bathing the large room in an ethereal yellow glow, but not so bright as to hurt his eyes. He moved over towards the small end-table with the controls set on top, and grabbed the one for the projector.
Why do I feel like I know what I'm doing down here even though I have no idea?
Thumb clicked the power button, and the screen was cast in blue. The loading screen came up, and then the home screen, and Viktor stared at the options, eventually clicking into the YouTube app. He scrolled around a bit, not sure what he was really looking for, until the thumbnail preview for something arbitrary caught his eye; the NBC Sports channel, and its bloc for the weekend's coming competition. Within, the network had posted a commercial of sorts. Using footage from the season so far, each discipline's top ten athletes were featured in a vignette, until culminating in something of a 'grand announcement' of a new-comer to the competition, which then featured Viktor himself. With strong clips from each of his main programs; History Maker, Stand in the Light, and even Evoke - specifically, his insane record-breaking performance of it at NHK - the featurette ended on an ominous note. To Viktor's viewing, it was almost like a warning to the other competitors in the Men's Singles group that the climb to the top of the podium had just added a hurricane obstacle. He half-smirked as the ad ended and YouTube's checkerboard of preview panels came up over the end of the clip.
No pressure, right? The silver thought to himself, the remote bobbing in his hand idly as he considered what to do next. Not that I mind, but... I do feel a little bad for the others. This group already has a lot of good skaters, but now a proverbial outsider is coming in to make a mess of it all. And what's strange... He considered, and pressed his free hand to his chest, rubbing at the center to calm his fast-beating heart, ...Is that I've never been this nervous before.
One of the thumbnails dubiously showed the Russian flag with 'BANNED?' in red block letters over it. Feeling a bit like a dope, Viktor clicked it, only to turn away and listened rather than watched.
"I just read on the news..." A voice announced; the video had apparently been the video recording of a podcast. Viktor glanced out the corner of his eye as he paced around the room, and spotted two men sitting at microphones, as though they were professional sportscasters in their own right, "I just read that the IOC, the Olympic people...they've actually banned the entire Russian Federation from competing in the Games. Do you get this? Banned! Less than a month before the Opening Ceremonies and they banned a whole country. And for what? Doping? Where's the proof? Even if some Russian athletes did it, why ban the whole country? This is just ridiculous. Russia's one of the more interesting countries to watch in the Winter sports, and now they can't even go. I'm just pissed."
Viktor continued his slow plod back and forth, keeping his eyes down on the carpet as he moved.
"Every country has it's bad apples and cheaters," The other podcaster added, trying to sound reasonable in the face of the opening rant, "But why not figure out exactly who those are and ban them specifically? There's tons of athletes who are being lumped in as dopers and schemers because of others. Innocent people are being labeled as guilty by proxy. Where's the justice in a blanket ban?"
"Yeah and get this... This just burns my ass so bad." The first man came on again, "This one Russian guy, this...this Viktor guy, right? He gets out right before the ban hits. It's almost like he knew it was coming, and jumped ship before he got wrapped up in it."
"Oh, is that the skater?"
"Yeah! He's skating for fucking Japan right now! He's supposed to be Russia's top guy and he bailed like a rat from a sinking ship! All that's missing is the middle-finger salute as he gets on a plane to South Korea!"
Viktor stared blankly at the screen, unimpressed, and tapped the remote with one finger, contemplating whether to turn it off or not.
"Alright, for anyone who doesn't know what we're talking about..." The second man's voice came on again, "About a month ago, one of Russia's top male skaters gave up his Gold at a big competition in Detroit, and Russia put him to pasture by retiring him. I don't entirely blame them. What good is an athlete who gives up his wins, right? Anyway... So since he's been in Japan for the last little while, the Japanese skating people scooped him up and now he's on their Olympic team. And it all just seems real damn convenient that this all happens right before the IOC announces that Russia's not allowed to go to the Winter Games. And now, this guy, this quitter, is going to get to go anyway."
Shaking his head slightly, Viktor still couldn't help but smile a little, Well at least they didn't dig into me because of who I gave up the Gold for. That's...refreshing?
"In further Russian skating drama, a bunch of their top athletes are actually too young to have even gone to Sochi, where this whole catastrophe apparently started. They're banned anyway. Because reasons."
That is true... Viktor agreed, nodding where he stood, It is pretty unfair to ban the first timers.
"Even Russian President Putin railed against it this week, saying like we have that individuals alone should be banned, not the entire goddamn country."
"I was really looking forward to the hockey, too..."
Viktor huffed a quiet laugh and clicked out of the podcast. He drew in a breath and thought for a moment, holding the remote towards the projector. I'm not sure how it squares that I did all this on purpose so I could get hired into the JSF just to get to the Olympics, if at the same time they said that Russia forced me out because of what I did at the Final. I guess it doesn't matter... I've expected to get some heat over it anyway. But...doing something to prove to people that I wasn't involved in the scandal... Being tested clean by the Japanese now won't ever clear my name from Sochi back then. What can I do...?
He turned on his heel and faced the screen again, bringing up the search field to type in the next query. 'Viktor Nikiforov Sochi Olympics Free Skate.' A dozen different videos came up, footage of different lengths, some from the official Olympic channel, others from the different news networks that covered the Games, some others still from fans who recorded from the audience.
Four years ago...hmph, I was Yuri's age right now. So young and innocent still... He mused, clicking down into one of the NBC videos. It immediately got started with the younger Viktor cruising across the ice, making his way from rink-wall to center, lapping up all the cheers and whistles from the crowd before veering back towards Yakov.
"Viktor Nikiforov, representing Russia. Just recently turned 25, and while young to our eyes, is actually one of the older skaters. He's been going strong so far this season, taking Gold at every event he's competed in. Do you think he'll do it again here?" One of the announcers asked.
A familiar French accent came into hearing, and Viktor was pleasantly surprised to see Stéphane Lambiel's name appear in the bottom corner of the screen as the speaker, "Viktor 'es been very good zis sesehn." He answered in his best English, "I've no doubt 'et ahl zet he will continue zis winning streak."
"You're just a few years older than Viktor is, and you've already had to have knee surgery. Are you worried that he might hurt himself, being one of the older skaters competing now?"
"Every skater knows zeir own body. Viktor's skating comes from his heart. He would never, in my opinion, risk zet if he was hurting et all." Stéphane explained, with the cameras trained on him and his co-host in the news box, "Ah, zer he goes, he's about to begin. Let's watch. He could set new records today."
The image of that silver-haired skater glided across the ice on the projector screen, looking a bit thinner, less tired, and entirely naïve to what would come in later years. He looked like he'd just walked off the set of a Klaha-era Malice Mizer music video, with the dark, blood-red puffy-sleeved shirt, strategically emblazoned with red and gold gems. His vest was pitch dark with red and silver rhinestones, and a few well-placed gold chains and buttons across the front. Pants were form-fitting, black, with shimmering embroidery on the outer thighs, fading out towards the knees where skate-covers were made to look like knee-high boots. His golden blades glittered beneath it all, and he wore long, pointed-cuff gloves.
The audience's cries finally simmered down as the music began...and Viktor watched his own performance, with eyes that seemed to have never noticed it before.
.
Thmp'mp
Jiro lifted his head and looked around, as did Ghost. Makkachin was out, and so was his tongue, paws in the air where he'd taken over his human's spot in the man's absence. Yuri was practically entombed by the pack, one dog on each side vying for the best territory. He roused and mumbled lightly, but went right back to sleep, none the wiser. Another thump could be heard though, and if not for Ghost suddenly jumping up, Yuri would've woken to the sound of the high-pitched shriek coming from the room next door.
"Ittai nani-goto...?" [What on earth?] He fumbled, looking around in confusion, perched with one hand in the pillow he'd just been drooling on. He looked quickly to the side, assuming his husband would be there, but only found the man's poodle, "...Makkachin...? Biktoru wa doko...? Er...where's Viktor?"
Jiro barked; he'd heard another two thumps, though they were quieter than before. The louder noise was what Yuri heard next door again. Eyes went towards the bathroom, looking for light under the door, but he couldn't see anything at all without his glasses, and reached for them next.
He clicked on the nighstand lamp while he was there, and slid his frames into place, trying to adjust to the brightness, "Viktor...?" He asked quietly, finding nothing. Makkachin finally rolled over and looked up, yawning widely before relaxing into a blep. Yuri rubbed the poodle's head and pulled the blankets off his naked frame. A quick trot to the bathroom and he grabbed a still-slightly-damp bathrobe, slid his feet into a pair of slippers, and made for the door in a worried daze. He quickly shuffled around the corner of the hall towards the next door, with all three dogs following close behind, but just as he knocked the first time on the wood, he heard screams within. "PHICHIT-KUN! MINAMI-KUN!" He harped, and all but banged the door down, twisting the knob and shoving his shoulder hard against it, "ARE YOU OKAY!?"
The two dazed skaters were hiding under the blankets on the main bed, but when they heard Yuri's voice, popped their heads up, "Y-Yuri!" They called, the room barely illuminated by the glow from the iPhone flashlight in Yuri's hand.
"Why are you guys screaming!?"
"We heard thumping! There's ghosts here after all!" They both lamented, and pulled the blankets over themselves again.
"Ghosts?" Yuri echoed, "Are you crazy!? It's four in the morning! This house is huge! Whatever you heard could've been anything!"
"Anything includes ghosts!"
"Th-there's ghosts!?" Nikki's voice joined in, this time making Yuri scream. He practically went airborne from the start, much to the teen's chagrin, "Sorry!"
"There's no ghosts!" Yuri insisted, peeling himself off the chair he'd landed on, "It's just the foundation settling or something!"
"Is Viktor investigating or something?"
"I dunno where he went." Yuri admitted, "He wasn't with me when I woke up. Makkachin even took his spot and looked pretty settled in it, so I'm guessing Viktor left a while ago. For all we know, the noises are him getting up to something."
"What could he possibly want to do at 4am though?" Nikki asked blearily, rubbing her eyes.
"It's the eve of competition. It could be anything. Let's just go find him." He answered, moving over to the door again, "Where's Viktoria?"
"She'd sleep through a plane crash." The teen answered, "I can try to-"
"No no, let her sleep, no sense getting everyone all worked up about this." He insisted, waving his hands, then gestured out of the room with a nudge of his head, "C'mon you two babies, let's go find the noise."
Nikki followed Yuri out, and the two blanket-covered skaters followed after them in turn, like two big piles of moving laundry. Following Yuri with his flashlight-phone, they made their way towards the spiral stairs, pausing briefly to listen for anymore odd noises.
Shhff...thmp..thmptmp...
"It's something!" Nikki whispered, "That's not all our imaginations, right!?"
"Oh, you guys heard it too?"
Nikki screamed and Yuri's phone was launched. Phichit and Minami bolted for the floor, their shaking so severe that it could be seen under their comforters. Once Yuri had his phone again, he shone the light to the source of the noise, and spotted both Yurio and Otabek there staring at them tiredly.
"What the literal Hell are you idiots doing?" The Tiger growled, "We're trying to sleep over here!"
"I should kill you where you stand, wretch-" Nikki harped, pointing at her brother stiffly with both hands, fingers bent into claw-like curls.
"I've been listening to the thumps for around 45 minutes." Otabek said, stepping between the two younger teens, half-attempting to stave off any throttling between them, "It's coming from downstairs. Is that where you're going?"
"Y-Yeah..." Yuri nodded, and lowered the light so as to avoid blinding those who pointed it at, "I think it's Viktor, but it could be anything."
THMP
"Okay that one was loud." Yurio admitted, "Fine...I believe you."
"It was up for debate?" Otabek huffed, "I thought we were friends."
"Let's just go, everyone-" Yuri insisted, and turned back to head down the tower. With his phone's bright light, it made everything easy to see, but every shadow was that much darker in the otherwise-unlit halls. The welcome company of the pack made the trip a bit easier, but with as many people as kept popping up unexpectedly, Yuri was still uneasy about their prospects. At the bottom, he pointed his phone both towards the dining room and kitchen, and the other way to the Parlor room, which had its doors shut, "I'll bet the staff cleaned it up after we left. Maybe someone's still working?"
"That's dumb." Yurio scolded, "Why haven't we just turned the lights on anyway?"
Yuri gaped back at him, "Cuz I don't know where the switches are."
KerTHUMP...thmp tmp...
Everyone twitched slightly, but all their eyes trained on the Parlor room doors on the other side of the entry foyer.
"Good luck, Yuri!" Phichit said from under his blanket, "It was nice knowing you!"
"P-Phichito-kun!"
"Don't believe in yourself, Yuri-kun!" Minami added, "Believe in me, who believes in you!"
"Jesus Christ I'll check it myself." Yurio huffed and pushed his way through the group, stomping across the tile floor, then the carpet and around the circular table with its flowers, then to tile again right in front of the panels. Without even knocking, the Russian Punk kicked in the doors and barged in. What he saw made him stop where he stood.
Yuri rushed in around him, seeing the lights on beyond the doorframe. For a second, his heart was in his throat, but when Viktor - sprawled on his back on the floor in the middle of the room - looked back towards them with initial surprise, and then gave a goofy wave and an affable Hi~!, Yuri let out a heavy and relieved sigh. He shuffled over towards his husband's side and went down beside him onto his knees, "Why. Viktor, why." He said tiredly. All three dogs came in suddenly and started snuffling at the downed human, which just made the silver laugh and sit up. "Everyone thought it was a ghost making the noise."
"Sorry!" Viktor answered, "I thought it would be fine on the first floor..."
"What are you even doing down here? It's so early in the morning...you should still be sleeping..."
The rest of the group came in after them to confirm the source of the thumping noises, a few of them giving disapproving looks from under their blankets before they retreated, red-faced, under them. The remaining three members of the Teen Squad stayed by the door in disbelief of the whole thing.
"I just woke up suddenly," Viktor started to explain, "I felt like my legs were going on their own, until I ended up down here, and I got a bug to practice an old program..."
"...An old program? What for?"
The silver gave an uncertain smile and scratched his jaw, "I guess I feel like I still have something to prove."
"WHAT IN THE CRAP ARE Y-"
Nikki and Yurio both screamed; everyone else just turned and looked back. In their terror, both young teens grabbed the first thing they could find...and both found Otabek, who blinked in stunned confusion as he realized what had happened. Yurio was perched on his back and shoulders like a terrified cat, clinging to his head for dear life. Nikki had glomped around his chest, pinning one arm to his side as the other went out for balance. The teen's heads craned back, creaking like old doors in their anxiety, and spotted Mikhail there in the dark just within the foyer, holding a tall lamp-post in his hands.
"Hiii~! Papa Mimi~!" Viktor called amiably, and offered an apologetic laugh, "Sorry! This is all my fault, I think!"
The elder clutched at his chest and lowered the lamp-post, leaning against the circular table, "...I'm going to be dead by the end of the weekend...RIP me."