CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED THIRTY ONE

Yuri watched happily as Viktor leaned down from his high spot on the podium, and the lanyard of the Gold medal was hung across his shoulders. Phichit got his Silver next, and then Otabek with Bronze.

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"It's...neither." Otabek said simply, to Yuri's confusion, "She's too young for my tastes. But...she has managed to become important to me anyway, and...I guess it's just safest to say that I wouldn't rule it out for later if it came up again when she's older. Just...not right now. I want to stay her friend, and watch out for her, just like I do with the other Yuri. She's...a precious person. I want to be someone she can trust and depend on."

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I can really see why this whole thing impacted him so much, Yuri thought as he listened to the Japanese anthem instrumental play overhead, and watched the flags of Japan, Thailand, and Kazakhstan rise overhead. The things being projected onto him were just...so completely antithetical to who he is and what his values are. It stuck a knife into the core of who he is and he couldn't do anything.

The anthem concluded and the winners made their victory laps around the rink, got their various photos, and were finally released to rink-side again. Viktor immediately went for his post-victory snog, and snuck the lanyard from his head over his beloved's, leaving the Gold medal in secure tender against Yuri's chest. Yuri, of course, guffawed about the whole thing, but Viktor was too busy putting his blade-guards on to worry about it.

"My Gold medals are your Gold medals," The Russian teased as he bent forward to press his kiss to the golden disc, and slid his arms into his Olympic jacket, "Besides, it's easier to admire it when it's on you instead of me."

Yuri deadpanned at him, "People might think you're giving it away again."

"That happened one time."

"Sometimes that's all it takes."

"So I'll put it on Jiro then." Viktor puffed, and went to pull the medal back again. Yuri just laughed and handed the thing over himself, and they both crouched down to deck out the security pup with the Gold. Jiro seemed quite pleased with himself afterwards, especially when Viktor lifted him up to carry him around, with the medal hanging off one side of his little vest. More photos were taken inside, but eventually, the post-event conference was set to start, and the event's three winners were corralled up to the media room.

"Alright, welcome everyone to the final conference for the Men's Singles," The event coordinator spoke casually into a hand-held mic, sitting on the far left end of the high table, "We'd like to again congratulate our winners this year...Viktor, Phichit, and Otabek. Admittedly, it is a bit weird to be saying Viktor's name up here today, but I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that it's also a great pleasure."

The three skaters nodded and everyone laughed as they heard the words, and everyone finally took their seats.

"Then, Viktor, if you'd like to start us off."

"A bit weird?" The silver answered in amusement as he lifted up his own mic, and sat forward against the table. The audience was just as entertained and laughed with him, "I feel like I crashed someone else's party, since there aren't any other Europeans here. But, honestly, it's been a great honor to skate this weekend for Japan. The JSF has been incredibly welcoming to me and it's given me a lot of new energy to skate my best. With the support of my family, and my adorable and perfect husband," He smiled wide and blew a kiss at his beloved at the back of the room, and of course, eeeveryone craned their heads back to spot the man, which just made his face go pink, "...I really feel like I'm finally in the place I was always meant to be. I hope that everyone was happy with what they saw this weekend, and I look forward to the Exhibition tomorrow night."

"Phichit?" The coordinator prompted as Viktor nodded at the end of his statement and set his mic down.

"It was really a lot of fun to skate this weekend!" The Thai skater said excitedly, "It's hard to describe how happy it makes me to be able to sit up here in such talented company. Skating before the both of them is always nerve-wracking no matter where we are because I'm biting my nails the entire time, wondering how deeply they buried me with their own performances, but I like to think I'm catching up. Of course, thank yous go out to my coach, Celestino, and to all the fans back home and abroad who've just been so supportive and filled me with so much inspiration and energy."

"And Otabek."

He'd had his hands clasped together on the table-top while he listened to the others, eyes down on the dark grey fabric. Hearing his name though, he knew he'd have to look up, and he reached nervously for the mic next to the water-bottles on his right, "...Thank you everyone for a good weekend. I'm honored to win Bronze."

The crowd and the media all stared ahead like they were expecting more to be said, but after a few awkward seconds of silence, realized nothing more would come, and looked back to the coordinator on the opposite end of the long table.

"...Oh, alright then. Questions. First row, you over there." He said, and gestured at one of the reporters.

"Viktor-san," A JSF reporter stood up, "Even though you managed to set a new World Record for the Short Program, you did so after being booed at for probably the first time in your life...how did that impact your skating, if at all?"

The air changed in the room in a palpable way, but Viktor kept on that affable smile as he lifted his mic again, "It just made me skate harder." He answered, "At first, hearing the jeers was confusing, I'll admit. It's just not something I ever expected to hear, as a figure skater. It's not like there's teams of skaters facing off against each other here like in hockey...it's just individual performers doing their best. If people don't like a certain skater, they just don't clap, it's pretty simple...but the booing was different. I imagine there's a lot of people who are angry that I've signed up to skate for Japan after spending my life doing so for Russia. But, I'm not ready to retire yet. I'm grateful for the chance to keep going for my husband's people, and hope to do well for them at the Games in a few weeks."

"Okay, next question please...yes, you in the second row."

"Thank you, and congratulations again. This question is for all of you; if you could change one thing about your programs today, what would it be and why?"

Phichit's eyes lit up, but just as quickly, he became analytical about himself, and looked unready to answer first. Otabek's affect hadn't changed, and so Viktor took up the mic again, "I'd have done all Axels, Lutzes, and Flips for my quads." He said with a happy shrug, "Alas, my stamina can't keep up with that, so I have to settle for a bit less."

"I was actually pretty satisfied with my show today," Phichit answered, "But if...I had to pick, I'd probably do some more complicated entries to my jumps, and higher difficulty jump combos."

Eyes all went to Otabek then, and waited for what they expected to be a short and curt answer...which is exactly what they got, "...My jump landings were a bit unstable. I'd have preferred to land them properly."

"Two more, this is gonna be a quick session. Yessir, in the front again."

"Otabek, picking up on your answer just now...what was the reason for your unstable jumps tonight? You still got onto the podium this weekend, but it followed your lowest Free Skate score in years."

With the entire Rozovsky clan in attendance, answering the question was nearly impossible. Otabek hesitated to pick up the mic and speak, and reached to unscrew one of the two water bottles that had been set out. He took a sip before he dared to speak, "...I just wasn't thinking about the program enough. I'll be sure to do better in PyeongChang."

Yuri's brow furrowed as he heard it, and he drew inward a bit, He said he's fine, but he can't even answer a question like that without having to dance around it. I wonder if he's really doing okay...?

"And last one, yes, you in the back."

"This question is also for Otabek," The reporter stood up, and read off the note-pad she'd written her question on, "There was a confrontation down in the prep-area after you skated today. Was there anything that happened before your show that might've thrown you off your game?"

"I'm not prepared to answer questions about that situation." Otabek said simply, and firmly, as though scolding the reporter for even bringing it up, "But thank you for your concern."

The conference coordinator waited a moment, but then looked out over the crowd, "And that's a wrap for tonight; thanks everyone for staying late. Get your last pictures and we'll see you again in the morning after the Free Dance."

The press corps moved closer to the table to get those aforementioned photos, even as the athletes stood up and got ready to leave. Viktor followed Phichit off the stage to their right, leaving Otabek to go the other way on the far end. Viktor hesitated on the step though and looked back, He's normally pretty stiff during these conferences, but he's never avoided a question before. Why didn't he just make something up? Now everyone and their dog is going to be wondering what's wrong with him. He shook his head, but then finally returned to the clan, and slid his arms over his beloved's shoulders for a fresh hug. He barely had a second there before he felt one of his hands snatched off his partner's back and pulled the other way, dragging both him and Yuri towards the other side of the room. He hobbled backwards awkwardly, but his hand was let go again soon after, and he clutched at his husband's frame so he wouldn't lose his balance, "...What was all that about-"

"Otabek," Nikki's voice called quietly, stalling the man as he tried to weave between straggling reporters in the tightly-packed aisle. She'd caught the elbow of his sleeve to get his attention, and those steely eyes looked back in awkward quiet, "I just-"

"This isn't the right place." He said simply.

"But then where-"

"I'll message you." He offered, and though he spotted a brief glimmer of relief dawn on the teen's face, it quickly faded to disappointment. He felt an uncomfortable pit in his stomach, and instinct told him to look up at Yuri. Take responsibility for the fact that you're her hero now, too. Dark brows furrowed, and Otabek ran a nervous hand through his hair as he sighed quietly, ...She's still a kid, even if she's in that awkward phase of growing up. Whatever I do will mean 10x more than it would to anyone else, under any other circumstances. What path do I follow...? What would make sense? He could feel his heart pounding behind his eyes, but the only thing that came to mind was the one thing he thought the teen herself might do if their places were switched. He took a quick step forward and slung one arm over her shoulder to offer a simple hug, "Don't worry so much. Try to have a better night."

Viktor was slack-jawed at the sight, but Yuri smiled, and was happier to see the petite teen recover from the surprise quickly enough to return the hug with both thin arms. The Russian shook his head to regain his bearings and then leaned down to his beloved to whisper behind his hand, "Does she know that Otabek knows we've all told him how she feels?"

"...Actually, I don't know. I don't think so? I can't imagine why she wouldn't think we have though, considering how many of us have talked to him."

Nikki was reluctant to let the Kazakh go, but eventually she let her hands loosen and her arms came back again, "...Thank you." She managed, "For what you did."

"Yeah, sure." He answered, and pat her head through her purple and black jester hat, "See you later."

"...Yeah...later."

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There was already a bit of activity at the Estate House when the group's SUV returned from the World Arena. It put a bit of a hushed tone on them as they exited, and made their way back inside. Mikhail parted from the main party and went to speak to the presumed team leader; aside from their own singular vehicle in the rotunda, there were three others, and around seven men - all in mostly plain clothes, but with various articles of police-like gear strapped to their bodies - who got out of them.

No one could help but look out at the elder, but Minako did her best to herd everyone inside anyway, "They're going to be meeting for a while. Let's just get out of the way so they can come inside, too."

"...It was just some stupid hecklers though." Viktor grumbled, "This is nuts."

"Mik may not look like he's super worried, but he was really unsettled by what happened to Nikki." Minako retorted as she peeled out of her winter clothes.

"You did say to just let him have his way." Yuri pointed out; he could hear Makkachin and Ghost making their hurried-way down from the upstairs.

"That was before I saw the Squad parked outside. I guess it feels more real now, especially since there's so many of them." Viktor explained, and handed his things off to the staffers who were attending them, "Now I'm unsettled."

"Consider it practice for when we're in Russia." Minako suggested, "Since those guys came from there."

"At least we're getting to Russia on a private plane and leaving straight from the airport to go to the middle of nowhere." Yuri pointed out, "If those idiots who bugged us in St. Petersburg had any hope of doing so again, they'll have a hard time even knowing we're there."

Minako paused in place as she heard the words, and her brow rankled severely, but she didn't say a word. She just watched the group disperse, taking their excited dogs with them. Yuri and Viktor went straight upstairs to hose-off after the competition, but the younger pair went over to the Parlor room for the big-screen. She waited a second for everyone to be far enough away, and then opened the door to the outside again, and whistled to get her fiancé's attention.

Mikhail looked up and nodded, then nudged his head towards the door, and the whole pack of them started to head inside, "They have Ghost locked up somewhere?" He asked, and kicked the toes of his shoes against the landing to knock some snowpack loose.

"Yeah they went upstairs with the pups." She answered, only to suddenly hear the Ovcharka starting to bark through the bedroom door, "...Ah, she's aware something's up now."

"How many dogs are on the premises?" The detail leader asked.

"Two and a half. I'll get you everyone and everything's details once we're inside." The Russian explained, and pushed the door even further open. As the whole gaggle entered and cleaned their shoes off, Mikhail gestured for them to follow one of the staffers, who lead them into the dining hall. He managed to unbutton his overcoat before he realized Minako had a weird look on her face, and he tried to reassure her, "Don't think too much about these guys. I know it seems like a lot to deal with suddenly..."

"Yuri just said that they had trouble with hecklers in St. Petersburg, too. I don't even think he realized he mentioned it."

Mikhail blinked at her, "...Why...wouldn't either of them say something about that when we've been talking about getting some security over the Olympic stuff as it is?"

She shrugged, "Maybe they thought it was enough. But if they had trouble in Russia already, before the ban...and now there's goons showing up all the way here to cause trouble?"

"It's a good thing the Olympic Village is entirely off limits to non-athletes..." Mikhail commented, and shook his head, "I'm less worried about the Russian athletes that may get to go. They'll all be on their best behavior, if the IOC ends up letting any of them go, so pestering a fellow athlete would be the dumbest possible thing they could do if they want to stay in the Village."

"Yeah..."

"And any of the ones that might've been dumb anyway were likely the type to have gotten wrapped up in the doping scheme anyway."

Minako nodded.

"You somehow don't seem convinced."

"I just never thought it would be this serious." She admitted sullenly, "None of this is fun."

Mikhail handed his coat and scarf off, but then stepped closer to pull his partner into a hug, "It'll be fine, starlight. If it were any country other than Russia, I probably wouldn't be on edge like I am... I'd really rather have this set up than go blindly forward and just hope for the best though. This is a crazy world we live in. Girls are getting acid thrown in their faces because they turned down advances from boys they don't even know. Kids are taking guns to schools. And now, a certain breed of Russian putz is willing to spend thousands of dollars to travel halfway around the world, just to boo at a guy who changed teams, and were willing to go after his kid cousin to make a point. I'm not taking any risks. ...I'll try to make the ordeal as discrete as possible."

"...So what should I do then...?" The ballerina wondered, and held onto the man while she had the chance, "Just sit around and wait?"

"Come be part of it, if you want." He offered, and pulled back just far enough to offer a kiss, "I'll need some photos of everyone. You'll be able to get those better than I can."

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The younger pair joined their older sister in the middle of her show, and quietly settled in to watch as well, heedless to whatever it was she'd been playing. Viktoria poked her sibling's shoulder when Nikki took her spot in the nest on the floor, "Pipaw called me earlier. Was there trouble at the rink?"

"Viktor's got some anti-fans." Yurio answered for her, "He got booed yesterday, and today a couple chucklefucks ganged up on Nikki."

Viktoria's whole body tensed up, and she slithered off the couch to sit beside her small sister, "...Are you hurt? Did they put their hands on you?"

Nikki shook her head, but finally pulled her twin-tailed hat off and once-again stuck her finger through the hole in its seam, "...Just...this... And my hair got pulled a little..." She explained, "Papa says he's hiring security for us now."

"I was wondering who those guys were just now..."

The petite silver nodded, "There were more people booing than just those two jerks who ran into me. I guess...papa just wants to be sure no one else gets a brilliant idea. I'm worried for Viktor."

"Let pipaw do the worrying. He's good at it." Viktoria suggested, and leaned in to give her sibling a hug, "Let's find something to watch that's more in your lane. Don't need you falling asleep to 'Dallas SWAT.'"