CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED THIRTEEN
"The score for GuangHong Ji...88.45!"
The athlete's face lit up, and he squeezed the huge bear-plush clutched in his arms even tighter, "All that hard work paid off! I'm so close to breaking 90!"
The Selfie Squad clapped excitedly for him, though Leo could feel himself sweat a bit, "We've been neck-and-neck for so long...I'm worried he's going to get ahead of me now..."
Yurio sneered at the JumboTron hanging from the rafters, and pulled his hood a bit lower over his eyes as he skulked his way back into the audience. It didn't take him long to find his way back to Minako and Mikhail, but sitting beside them felt arduous, and he could sense their eyes on him even though he couldn't see them himself. He did spot a purple Gatorade come into view though, and he swiped it without a word, cracking it open to distract himself.
"Next on the ice, representing Kazakhstan...Otabek Altin...!"
Decked-out in his almost Castlevania-like ensemble, the Kazakh made his greeting to the audience before he returned to the wall for his last bits of advice. Yurio watched carefully, but he didn't see Nikki - or anyone, for that matter - at rink-side with the man. To his surprise though, Otabek seemed to know where he was in the audience, and raised a hand up in his direction. Yurio raised his Gatorade in acknowledgement and felt a little better.
Viktor looked at his phone again, hand holding it up in front of his husband's chest as he leaned in over a shoulder again, "He's seen my message but he won't answer."
"Typical Yurio." Yuri sighed and shook his head.
['Requiem - Dies Irae' specifically on YouTube channel 'fanworldmusic']
That ominous choir started immediately, and Otabek was quick to move with it, arms up with a step forward as though he himself were conducting that orchestra.
Yuri looked up from Jiro to the teen beside him, and watched nervously as Nikki eagerly slipped her arms into Otabek's jacket. A worried flutter rose in his gut, ...Oh boy...she's really crushing hard. That's gonna be trouble, he thought, brow wrinkled a bit. He felt a thumb nudge his tummy though, and he looked down at the phone screen pointing up at him from his spouse's hands. He couldn't read the Cyrillic, but he could understand well-enough from the iPhone text layout that Yurio had at least answered the summons Viktor had sent out. He turned his head slightly to whisper, "What'd he say?"
"In text? Just that he's in the audience with Papa Mimi. In attitude? That he's super cranky." Viktor whispered back, and clicked his phone off. He twisted out of place to put it away, but then snuggled even closer when he returned, and nibbled a bit on a small patch of exposed neck, "We should go stretch a bit more."
"Probably." Yuri answered, "But I'd like to see you try and say we need Nikki to stop watching Otabek so we can watch her."
Dies irae, Dies illa
"So we'll stretch right here." Viktor teased, and pulled his partner back slightly.
Solvet saeclum in favilla
Teste David cum Sibylla
Otabek was finishing-up his step sequence by that point, and had just twisted into an outside spread-eagle for the triple Axel.
Quantus tremor est futurus
With skates already on and negligible intention to go get a roll-out mat to stretch on the ground, the pair of Nikiforovs made-do with their immediate surroundings and each other.
Quando judex est venturus
Otabek lowered down to crouch in a sit-spin, one hand holding to the left blade to keep it bend under himself. He rotated swiftly, then switched feet and continued on with a twist variant.
Cuncta stricte discussurus
He rose up slightly, one arm reaching for the rafters as the other stayed low by his knees. Once the choir went out though, he broke off and built-up speed, emphatically kicking at and twisting on the ice - knocking crystalline shards into the air as he moved - as the violins played harshly overhead.
Dies irae,
Otabek dipped low into the Salchow take-off position...
Dies illa
...And launched hard. He spun four times, landed, and clicked off for the triple Toe-loop, landing it just as the choir's line finished. The audience cheered, impressed by the skater's ability to keep-time with the jump combo.
Solvet saeclum in favilla
Nikki watched nearly as intensely as the judges, eyes on every subtle movement. Her hands barely peeked out of the tops of the wrist-cuffs on that overlarge Team Kazakhstan jacket - large enough that she and her own winter coat could fit inside it together - but she cupped the tips of her fingers over her mouth anyway, ...I can see why these guys all like this sport so much. I really didn't appreciate how much went into it before...
Otabek glided by in a Cantilever, fingers dragging slick lines into the white frost behind himself. Sweat beaded on his skin, and he rose up from that nearly-bent-over-backwards slide.
Quantus tremor est futurus
He immediately twisted around and his left skate went behind himself. He bent onto his right outside edge, and toe-picked hard. The vault earned him three perfect spins, and he landed without missing a beat; the audience roared wildly.
Quando judex est venturus
Cuncta stricte discus surus
Otabek let himself have the faintest of smiles as he launched himself into the Death Drop camel spin, Finally landed that Lutz... I may catch up to those skating animals yet.
Both SkateHusbands sneezed in their stretch - each of them bent down at the hips to grab their right ankles. Yuri, sick as he was, unleashed a torrent of liquid boogers and whined as he slowly collapsed down to the floor, "Uuuhhhggg where does it all hide in my sinuses!? Am I sneezing out my brains!?"
Quantus tre-e-mo-or e-est fu-you-turus
Dies irae, Dies illa
Otabek's camel-spin continued; his right arm extended out in front of himself as he kept the left wrapped around himself, keeping his center of gravity under strict control. He hopped for another foot change as he switched poses, and grabbed the ice-sheathed blade to pull it behind himself for a catch-foot variant.
Quantus tre-e-mo-or e-est fu-you-turus
Dies irae, Dies illa
Viktor quickly rushed back with the Makkachin plush-toy in hand, and pulled out several tissues while his husband tried to stem the snot-deluge from his head, "You really make it count, don't you?" He teased nervously, "Can you still breathe?"
Quantus tre-e-mo-or e-est fu-you-turus
Quantus tre-e-mo-or e-est fu-you-turusYuri could only groan and swipe the wad, and cleaned up the horrible sticky mess, "Righ' bow, bo...I canbeve..."
Nikki finally looked back and reeled at the sight, "Ew, Yuri, what in the world."
Quando judex est venturus
Cuncta stricte discus surus
Viktor smiled nervously and swapped the used pile for a fresh one, "One unfortunate draw-back to anti-doping rules is that athletes can't use decongestants." He explained, "They're considered stimulants. And since my love doesn't want to use the steam bath..."
Cuncta stricte (Cuncta stricte,) stricte discus surus
Cuncta stricte (Cuncta stricte,) stricte discus surus
Otabek dug one toe-pick deep as he braked from the finale of his combination spin, right arm curved low in front of himself, the left up in the back. As the music finally cut out, and the audience's applause rushed in, he could see the drip of sweat fall from his brow and hit the ice. He heaved for breath as he allowed himself to rise up, and bowed his head gratefully. It wasn't much longer before he slid over to the rink-wall and accepted his blade-guards and water-bottle from his coach, but his coat-minder was conspicuously absent.
Nikki looked towards the curtain and back again, and warily tip-toed away while the SkateHusbands dealt with the mucous deluge. She was gone before they knew it, and quickly slipped through the curtain; she spotted Otabek pretty quickly and happily trotted over, "That was so great!" She cheered, "I missed the end of it though! Yuri blew up like a snot-bomb back there!"
"Gross." He commented with narrowed eyes, watching the petite teen slip out of his big coat. He drew in another drag of air as he calmly caught his breath, and pulled the coat over his arms as it was returned. He looked around for the teen's expected chaperones, but saw no one, and turned his attention back to her, "You ever been in the kiss-and-cry?"
Nikki's eyes widened, and she shook her head emphatically.
"C'mon."
"Ohmygodohmygod."
Yuri finally had command over his airways again and wiped his hands on the last few tissues from the box, "I really need to wash my...hands...?" He started, only to realize their charge was nowhere to be seen, "Uhh, where'd Nikki go?"
Viktor jerked his head back and forth, trying to find his wayward cousin, but he didn't see her...until he looked at the television and gasped, "Oh no."
"Oh no?" Yuri echoed, and looked at the screen as well, "Oh no."
Mikhail spat his drink out in a messy spray, sending both Yurio and Minako fleeing to the outside edges of their seats for cover. The elder Russian gaped at the JumboTron, then down to the small corner of the rink where he knew his daughter was now sitting, "Damnit, Nikkita."
"Hun, you're dripping everywhere."
"Ugh." Yurio agreed.
"I'll be right back." Mikhail grumbled, and wiggled his way past Yurio to get to the exit aisle. He vanished quickly into the underbelly of the stadium, though to where, neither of the two remaining could guess.
"Well hopefully he'll go clean up first." Minako said nervously, "Otherwise he'll be all cold, sticky, and wet."
"I'm less worried about him than I am about Otabek suddenly." Yurio retorted, and quickly went after the startled older man. He was lucky to catch sight of Mikhail stalking through the corridors - a 5'11" skinny silver-haired guy in all-black kind of stood out a bit - and rushed to close the gap, "Hey, wait!" He called, realizing a few people had recognized him. He barreled through and ran faster, "Mikhail!"
The elder Russian seemed Hellbent and didn't stop.
"DAD!"
He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard that, and looked back over a shoulder as Yurio finally caught up, "Did you just...?"
"Forget it! Getting all pissed at them isn't going to help!"
Mikhail narrowed his eyes, "She's going to sit with us in the stands for the rest of the event. She'll do so again tomorrow, or she stays back at the house with her sister. I'm not playing around; she's too young for this."
Yurio couldn't help but grit his teeth, "Don't ruin this for her!" He harped, catching Mikhail by surprise for a second time, "The whole world just saw her sit in the kiss-and-cry with Otabek. Most life-long fans could never dream of a chance like that. If you've gotta rain on her parade, at least don't be pissed about it when you get there."
"She just turned fifteen. How does she keep getting away from the people who are supposed to be watching her!?"
"I get it!" He pointed out, "It's my fault! I left her there with Yuri and Viktor when I knew they'd have to get ready to skate!"
Mikhail was surprised for a third time, and his expression softened a little, "...You're going to take responsibility."
Yurio blanched slightly, but held his ground, "You told me to keep an eye on her since I'm not skating here...and I left her behind instead. So...yeah, fine... ...I guess."
"The score for Otabek Altin...112.84!"
Yuri balked and clutched at his chest, "...Oh man..."
Viktor quirked a brow and gave a wry smile, "I thought you weren't worried about getting on the podium this go 'round."
"I'm not... But he's really creeping up there..."
"He's a fighter." The silver mused, and rubbed some hand sanitizer around his palms and fingers, "I'm glad for him. He's gotten screwed out of medals just like you have." He explained, but then grinned, "He still has a ways to go to catch up to us though."
Yuri playfully smacked the man's chest with the back of his hand, and made his partner laugh as he winced, "You're terrible." He puffed, "Let's go collect your cousin before her father gets down here."
"Group two may now enter the rink for a fifteen minute warm-up."
"Shimatta-" Yuri grunted, "That's us! Damnit!"
The aforementioned teen and Otabek returned to the prep-area just as Yuri's complaint ended; she was too excited to be bothered with the worry of what may be coming. She fawned and fangirled like she'd been invested in the sport her entire life, "That was just so good!" She went on, "I never realized how hard all that skating was until I really looked... I mean, cousin Viktor makes it look so easy most of the time...but he's always so goofy at practice that I can't really tell how hard he's trying. Yura hardly practices at all. Watching you though...just, wow~!"
Otabek kept his mouth on his water-bottle as he listened, "You can figure skate too though. I saw you at the rink in Detroit when you and Yuri were practically battling each other."
"Oh, yeah, haha~!" She responded with a nervous laugh, "I mean, I took lessons when I was younger...but it was never anything serious. Just enough to learn how to not fall, really... My brother can skate better than I can."
"...You have a brother?"
She blanched, "I never told you about Sergio? How's that even possible?" She questioned herself mostly, but then shook her head, unaware of the duo creeping up behind her, "He's the oldest of the bunch of us, but after mom died, and papa came back to Canada to get us... Uhm...well, I mean, he's old enough to be on his own. He decided to stay back in Banff rather than come live with us in Japan."
Otabek just deadpanned her, "You never said anything about your mom dying either."
Nikki went blank, then narrowed one eye in confusion, "What. How."
"You've probably talked about everything else in your life except those things. I mean, I feel like if I met your friends from school, I'd know them without even being told their names." Otabek explained, "I know your favorite food, color, movie...how much you've always wanted a Samoyed but how you were never allowed to have pets..."
"They're so cute and white and fluffy."
"Nikki," A voice said quietly; she flipped around and spotted the younger of the two SkateHusbands, "You gotta stop sneaking off like this..."
"B...wh...but I was right here!" She stammered, completely deflated, "I was just-"
Yuri shook his head, careful to keep his hands at his sides, "Viktor and I have to practice now... I'm gonna walk you back to your dad first though."
"No need." The worst voice of all suddenly spoke; all eyes went up to the Rozovsky Patriarch, and the Russian Kitten beside him trying to look inconspicuous, "I'll take her."
Nikki's eyes went wide, "Papa...but I-"
He held a finger up to his lips, then with that same hand, pointed his thumb over his shoulder, and wordlessly stepped aside to let her go by into the public-access hall. The whole group of them was nervous and silent, and turned their eyes to the youngest amongst them. Nikki just looked completely defeated and confused; her eyes took on that glossy shine as she held back tears.
"Uhm...bye, I guess." She said quietly, looking back only for a split-second before she forced herself forward.
Yuri and Viktor watched in stunned but deferent silence. They could only look on as the trio then vanished beyond the doorways, and then at one another.
"I get the feeling he doesn't like me much." Otabek commented, "I don't know what I did wrong."
"You existed." Viktor answered with a huff, "Sometimes that's all it takes."
"I think you're less of the problem than you believe," Yuri added, "He was like this with his other daughter at Euros, too. He doesn't like them wandering off on their own."
Otabek gave a subtle nod, but then turned and started to move off, "...I'm gonna go do my post-skate interview."
"...Yeah..."
