CHAPTER FIFTEEN
-The Russian Tiger's solemn roar!? It's the European Championships Free Skate!-
Group 1 had already finished their morning on the ice, and Group 2 was getting ready to start their short programs that afternoon. It was Day 1 of the European Championships. Chris was in the lead so far - as could be expected for someone who'd frequently scored Silver whenever Victor was in the lineup.
Emil was first on the ice that afternoon, scoring 86.17 for his Short Program. Michele came on after that, scoring 87.20 for his own. They were still well behind Chris' 92.73.
Yuri and Victor had managed to connect to the LiveStream of the event, and set up in the living-room to watch it on Victor's big-screen. Yuri sat cross-legged on the big blue couch, thumbing through the night's roster on his phone as Victor made sure the settings on his fiancé's MacBook Air were working where they connected to the television. It kept stopping to buffer though, much to his dismay.
"I guess this is the trouble that everyone was having while trying to watch the Grand Prix series." He muttered, refreshing the stream a few times, "Sad that there isn't a dedicated channel for live international viewers."
"I'm sure satellite users get a channel." Yuri commented.
"I should've agreed to go with them." Victor sighed, "Then we'd both be there and this wouldn't even be a problem."
"Would you be content to just sit in the audience?" Yuri wondered with a wry smirk, looking over his phone at the man, "Everyone who saw you there would be asking why you aren't on the ice."
"Of course I wouldn't be content to watch." Victor replied, and pushed to stand up again, "But at least we'd be there."
The signal finally stabilized, and Victor went to join his partner on the couch, leaning against the arm-rest to get comfortable as Yuri leaned against him in turn.
"Yurio will be going up after this next guy." Yuri explained, "I wish we had something to tell him about his grandfather."
"I updated Yakov this morning, so Yurio should know there's been no change. We'll just have to wait and see."
The Spaniard who took the ice ahead of Yurio scored 84.67, and cursed himself alongside his coach when he heard it in the kiss and cry.
"Next on the ice, representing Russia, Ladies and Gentlemen...Yuri Plisetsky!"
Yurio then finally took to the ice himself, and it was obvious that he wasn't as energetic as he normally was. He stood by the rink's edge to briefly listen to Yakov and Lilia giving him last-second advice, probably telling him to try to focus on his performance. The camera finally panned close enough for the television viewers to see Yurio in detail; h was wearing the famous white and silver see-through outfit from the GPF.
"Oh, he's going to do 'Agape' after all...!" Yuri said, surprised.
"...This might be the one time we actually see what it'd look like to be skated properly..." Victor commented, "I guess he's seeing the silver lining to this whole situation."
"Or maybe he just doesn't want to ruin the premier of his new Short Program." Yuri suggested flatly, only to find his hair suddenly mussed up as his fiancé's ruffled it in 'punishment.' He laughed quietly despite it and settled in again.
Yurio took to the center of the ice, not bothering with the crowd acknowledgements before taking position. Seeing it, Victor pushed off the arm-rest, feeling anxious, and held a bit tighter to his beloved than before. Quietly, Yurio began his dance.
Sic mea vita est temporaria... Cuprit ardenter cariatatem aeternam...
The first jump would be a Triple Axel...
...and then it wasn't.
Victor winced, "It was just a double...this doesn't bode well."
"The flying sit-spin is one of Yurio's signature moves...that should be fine..." Yuri pointed out.
...and then it wasn't. Yurio spun out entirely and ended up flat on his back.
Victor buried his face against Yuri's shoulder, "It's hard to watch."
"C'mon, Yurio...get it together."
The next set of jumps were well regarded at the GPF after Yurio had started putting one or even both arms in the air, but this time he'd decided not to. He finally landed something without messing up though. Yurio then entered into his step sequence.
Yuri watched with a worried look on his face, "He's just going through the paces. He's not even trying."
The audience could tell that something was wrong, but there hadn't been any kind of announcement about Yurio's grandfather, so they didn't know what it was. The announcers were kind enough not to speculate as they spoke aloud the moves that Yurio was meant to try, only to then correct themselves to reflect what he'd actually ended up doing.
"Skater Yuri seems to be having a hard time out there today." Morooka was saying.
Oda agreed off-screen, "It's reminiscent to JJ Leroy's GP Final Short Program. I wonder if he'll be able to recover and make it onto the podium at the end as well though?"
Hanc felicitatem aeternam esse oro...
When the music finally ended, Yurio held his pose for a few seconds longer than normal, then slouched and skated right for the rink's edge without even bothering with a final address to the audience. Yuri's Angels were cheering him on despite the collapse, even if they all looked rather nervous about what they'd just witnessed.
Yurio sat with his face in his hands in the kiss and cry, and stood up to leave without a word when his score was called out.
52.63
Victor sighed, gawking at the screen with an exasperated look on his face, "...I should've been there for him."
The competition moved on after that, with a German skater coming on next to perform so spectacularly that people almost forgot Yurio's upset. 98.32 was his score, eclipsing that of the Russian and Chris alike.
Victor leaned back on the couch and pulled his phone off the footstool ahead of him, and dialed up Yakov since he knew Yurio wouldn't have his phone on him at that moment.
When the elder coach answered, he looked despondent, [Vitya...you really should've come.] He said in Russian.
[I know, I know...] Victor answered regretfully, [Put him on, please...]
Yuri watched the television, seeing where Yakov handed Yurio the phone on the screen; the three of them, including Lilia, were still hanging-out slightly on the rink side of the curtain. Yurio took it, looked around a little, and then ducked into the stadium's underbelly where it would be quieter.
"Victor..." The blond was barely whispering, and he sat with a heavy thud on the benches where his team had set up their gear, [I can't do this...]
[Yes you can, just forget about everything else. The ice is the only thing in the world when you've got your skates on, remember?] Victor said, his voice calm, like a big brother, [Nikolai would want you to do your best and stop worrying about him.]
[How can I do that though?] Yurio's eyes were dark, [He's all I have, and I nearly lost him.]
[But you didn't. He's fine, and he's going to be going home soon.]
Yuri couldn't understand the conversation again, and simply kept his eyes on the television screen, watching the next few skaters in silence. He leaned against Victor's upturned knee, wrapping one arm around it as the Russian kept talking.
[Your granddad and your cat will be waiting for you when you come home. Potya's going to be so happy when you get back. She rubs all over me when Yuri and I go check on her.]
[Did Katsudon see me just now?]
[Of course; we're watching it together.]
[...Put him on.]
Victor's brows furrowed with surprise, but he agreed, [Sure, here he is.] "Yuri; Yurio wants to talk to you."
"...He does?" He answered, utterly perplexed, but took the phone all the same, "Hey."
"Sožaleju."
"Huh?"
More words were spoken, but Yuri couldn't comprehend what was being said, so he turned to look at Victor, waving one hand out in utter confusion. He then put a finger on the mic and whispered, "He's talking in Russian. I have no idea what he said."
Victor quirked a brow and took the phone back, then put it onto speaker so he could hear as well, "You'll have to say all that again so I can translate, Yurio."
"I SAID I WAS SORRY FOR YELLING AT YOU AFTER YOU BLEW IT IN SOCHI, IDIOT."
Yuri had been bowled off the couch by the outburst, and he looked up in confusion from the floor, "...What...in the world..."
"Ah, he hung up..."
"Figures..."
Victor set the phone aside and looked down at Yuri with an amused smile, "He almost never apologizes for anything. You should be honored."
"We need to do something..." Yuri insisted, trying to finagle his way back to a sitting position, since his feet were still on the couch when he fell off of it, "We can't let him screw up his Free Skate, too."
"What do you suggest? It's not like we're still in St. Petersburg or anything." The silver said sarcastically, gesturing around their house, which was definitely still in St. Petersburg.
Yuri finally set himself upright, "...I think I have an idea."
.
The next day came too quickly for anyone's tastes, but it came all the same. The line-up was the same as the previous, with Group 1 going on in the morning, and Group 2 in the afternoon. Victor and Yuri weren't watching this time though. They had piled into Victor's car and traveled across the city instead.
Yurio sat on the benches, staring at the black fabric that covered his skates. He leaned over his knees, hands dangling close to his ankles, and he flicked the pink and red fluff where it sprung up from the inside of each boot. Like a cat that couldn't care less about the birds just outside the window, Yurio only paid attention to what was in front of him. The scores of the other skaters didn't matter. Their successes, their failures, the cheering of the crowd...it was all meaningless. Mila tried to console the younger skater, but he brushed her off like always, calling her a hag and ignored the rest. He couldn't even be bothered flailing like before when she hoisted him above her head, simply demanding to be put down with a flat tone as he hung there limply.
Yakov appeared through the doors with his ex-wife, and they beckoned for Yurio to get ready to get on the ice for his turn. It was nearly 6:45 in the evening by that point.
As Yurio passed them, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets, Yakov felt a familiar vibration in his own pocket. He pulled out his phone and saw a FaceTime request from Victor. He wasn't used to such things though, and even though he accepted, he held the device up to his ear like a normal phone, [Vitya, what is it? Yuri's about to go on.]
[Yakov, pull the phone away from your ear.] Victor said with a laugh, [Let me talk to Yurio really quickly before he starts.]
The Russian coach sighed, and went to catch up with Lilia and their skater. Yurio had already made it to the rink's edge though, and pulled his coat off along with the rubber guards on his blades.
"Yuri!" Yakov called out, being ignored like he mostly had been since the event began, and watched as the skater got on the rink, [Yuratchka, Vitya wants to talk to you again. Come back over here!]
Yurio glowered at the man, sighed, and came back as instructed, [What does he want now?] He asked grudgingly. He took the phone from his coach, seeing not Victor, but Yuri there on the screen, "What is this? Where's Victor?"
"Hang on a sec, Yurio." He said with a nervous smirk, "Ready?"
"Next to skate tonight, representing Russia...Yuri Plisetsky...!"
Yurio couldn't hear what was going on in the background, but when Yuri flipped the phone around, he could see well enough. His green eyes went wide, and tears immediately started to form in them. Yakov and Lilia both noticed the change, and went to glower at what he'd just been exposed to on the phone.
It was the Russian Tiger's grandfather, with Victor, at the hospital.
"Grandpa..." Yurio could hardly believe it.
"Good luck tonight, Yuri." Nikolai said, smiling despite his current predicament - hooked up to cardiac monitors and an IV drip, "Do your best. I'll be watching."
"Davai, Yurio!" Victor said happily.
"Davaaaaai!" Yuri added from the background.
The blond had his hand over his mouth, still in disbelief, but he moved it up to rub the tears from his eyes, "Spasibo...Victor, Katsudon, grandpa...spasibo..."