CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOURTEEN
"Our next skater on the ice tonight is Switzerland's Christophe Giacometti...!"
"Chris, davaaaai!"
The blond waved at the audience as he started to shuffle his way across the ice.
He wore a one-piece like he usually did; the majority of it was black, rising up into paint-splatter-like white accents and trims along a long, thick cut window through the chest, covered over by lace. Over his heart though, a starburst of red crystal, which almost looked to 'drip' down to waist level.
He skated back around to get a few words from his coach, but then slid back a little bit, waving over at where Viktor and Yuri were standing just outside the curtain to the prep area.
"Skater Chris appears to be taking a moment to talk to his long-time rival and friend, Viktor Nikiforov."
"What is it? You should be getting to the center!" The Russian half-scolded, making a 'shoo' gesture at him.
Chris just smiled a little, but then reached over the rink wall to put one hand on the man's shoulder, getting his attention rather squarely, "Viktor...we've been doing this for a very long time." He started, "I think it's time I showed my appreciation for all the years we've been friends, don't you think?"
"Eh?" Blue eyes blinked in confusion.
The Swiss skater winked and clapped the man's shoulder, "You'll see."
Both Yuri and Viktor watched Chris skate away, then turned to glance at each other, "I wonder what that was about?"
The audience cheered louder as the figure skater went out to greet them, waving at all sides as he circled the rink and headed to center.
"This year is a marked departure from the mature sensuality of Chris' programming theme in the previous season. He tells us that, this year, he was inspired by Skater Viktor's looming possible retirement. The two of them have been competitors together for around a decade, and have often shared a podium together at various competitions. Tonight, he skates to 'Broken' by Lifehouse."
A gentle guitar began, and Chris moved off to the side to pick up speed.
The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight,
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time.
The lyrics caught Viktor's attention rather sharply, and he couldn't help but look up, as though the music was speaking straight to him.
Flying camel-spin. Change of foot, continue on.
And I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts,
I am damaged at best...
He backed out of the spin and rounded the end of the rink, spinning and twisting elegantly as he made his way back to the other side.
...like you've already figured out.
I'm falling apart,
Outside spread-eagle into a triple axel.
I'm barely breathing.
Step sequence.
With a broken heart that's still beating.
Yuri felt his partner's hand sliding into where he'd held his own in his jacket pocket, lacing their fingers together and stepping a little closer. He looked away from Chris' performance to see Viktor pulling up his other hand to cover his mouth, shining eyes fixated on the Swiss skater.
In the pain, there is healing,
In your name I find meaning.
Quad Lutz from a 3-step.
I'm hangin' on another day
Just to see what you throw my way
"Oh Chris, what have you done?" The Russian asked himself quietly, reaching up to rub his eyes.
"...Viktor?" Yuri asked, "You okay?"
"He's trying to make me cry so I mess up my SP." He answered jokingly, trying to stop himself.
The younger skater could tell the attempt was succeeding though, and he moved in to put his arms around the man's frame, pulling his head down to his shoulder and slipping one hand through Viktor's silver-grey hair. The Russian turned his face against Yuri's scarf, but then tilted his head to rest his cheek against it instead and looked back out onto the ice.
And I'm hanging on to the words you say
You said that I will be OK.
Quad toe-loop, triple toe-loop.
Viktor's head snapped up at the sight of it, tears falling from his face, "Chris! Amazing~!"
The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone,
Yuri pulled his head around to look out at the skater, only to have Viktor smoosh his face against him, wet as it was. The move unsettled his glasses, and he suddenly couldn't see half the rink that well anymore, but he held tight to his husband despite it.
I may have lost my way now, haven't forgotten...my way home.
Yuri put his glasses back in place and watched intently. Chris' movements became a little more sensual than before, twisting around in a way that was more Viktor's style than his own. There were definite nods to Aria between original maneuvers.
I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain(In the pain) there is healing
In your name I find meaning
...Viktor... The Swiss skater thought to himself, throwing himself across the ice in a blur of wide, open moves, ...When you do stop skating competitively, there's still so much more you can do on the ice than win medals.
So I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'),
Chris' renowned spins came into play, Even Stéphane Lambiel hasn't quit skating, despite the fact that he's officially retired.
I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'),
I'm barely holdin' on to you
He dropped to his knees on the ice, leaned back, and wrapped his arms around himself.
As long as you have legs to stand on, I'll never let you leave the ice for long. Retirement isn't the end of everything...it just marks a new beginning.
The music faded, and the skater pushed to stand to catch his breath, waving at the audience as they roared their approval. When he finally turned to head back to rink-side, he caught sight of Viktor dragging Yuri around the edge of the wall, almost shoving his way into the doorway that lead to the kiss and cry. Chris smiled to himself, seeing where his friend and rival's eyes had gotten a little red.
"I can't believe you did all that." Viktor said, reaching up to rub the remaining tears away, "You've been planning this show all summer."
The Swiss skater loomed over his Russian counterpart, already 6 feet tall without his skates on, but as he set his blades on normal ground, he set his arms over the man's shoulders and hugged him tight.
"What a development! Skater Chris is hugging his rival! And Viktor appears to be...crying...!?"
"Life on the ice isn't just about winning multicolored metal discs, you know?" The taller skater said, patting Viktor's back, "You'll be surprising crowds for years to come at all the Exhibitions you'll be getting invited to. So stop talking about your retirement like it's the end for you. I think the fact that you won't be constrained by rules and regulations will be great for your muse. The competition circuit is holding you back."
Yuri watched and listened closely, rather surprised by the skater's efforts. His impartial observation was suddenly ended though when he felt Chris grab his coat and dragged him into the hug as well.
"Let your cute young husband deal with the rigid structure of these events." The taller man went on, "Look how far he's come because of you. He thrives on what you do for him. So...use him to bring home the gold, but free yourself to be the artist that everyone knows you wanted to be all along."
"C-Chris..." Yuri mumbled, slightly squashed between the two taller figures.
"Besides, what higher honor could there be for a skater than to be accessible exclusively at Galas? Only the best get to skate in the dark. You've more than earned your place on that field."
"He's right..." The youngest amongst them agreed, pulling his head up to see the Russian better, "You're the Exhibition King. You said before our move to St. Petersburg that you had enough inspiration to create new programs for another ten years. Do it! Skate them all! I bet half the people in this audience here tonight are here just for you anyway!"
"...Yuri..."
"Chris...we need you in the kiss and cry." Josef urged, "You can't just make one of your own over here."
"Aw..." The skater pouted, turning his head to smile back at his silver-haired friend again, "Don't forget what I said, okay? I breaks my heart that you made this 'rage' program at all. Retirement just means you're moving on, not out."
"...Here I was about to say what a great friend you are, Chris." Viktor finally said, rubbing his nose on the back of his sleeve, "But now you're the worst!" He laughed, "How am I going to do my Free Skate now!?"
The Swiss man started moving off, but winked back at him, "Rage at how I'm going to finally beat you and win gold."
"Fat chance!" The legend called back, "But good luck!"
Chris' coach just laughed and shook his head, "Good to have you back, Viktor. This suits you. If he doesn't get a new Personal Best with this, I'll be shocked."
The Russian nodded and smiled, rubbing his eyes one last time against the back of a knuckle. He turned his face to find his husband and pulled him close again, "So will we."
They all waited patiently as Chris took his place in the kiss and cry, holding onto a large bouquet of flowers in each arm. He raised his head anxiously as he heard the announcer above.
"The score for Christophe Giacometti is...107.5!"
"He got it!" Viktor cheered, shaking Yuri back and forth in his excitement, "I'll say I'm retiring every year if it makes him skate like that again!"
The younger skater was just feeling nervous after that. His hair and glasses were a mess again after the new jostling, but the butterflies in his stomach were fluttering out of control by then. It seemed that Viktor might've finally noticed though, since he found himself suddenly being dragged back into the prep area.
"That was really great! He's pushing the limits here today! It's making me nervous!" The Russian went on, dashing Yuri's anticipation that his husband might've recognized his anxiety. Viktor continued to pull him along by his hand until they were back in their little corner of the prep area, seeing Yurio busy already stretching. That seemed to be the thing on Viktor's mind though, as he grabbed his own stretching mat and set it on the ground next to his younger counterpart, "Did you hear!? Chris set a new Personal Best!"
"Still more than 15 points too low for me to care! Tell me when he beats 122.43."
"Aw, Yuri...you're heartless." Viktor chided, moving down to inch one long leg out as far in front, and the other as far behind him, as he could. The Russian was nothing if not flexible, and he reached his hands forward to grab his shoe and pull himself down, "I don't think anyone's going to beat that score anytime soon, not even me!" He laughed.
Yuri listened quietly as the banter between the two Russian skaters went on, but all he could do was think about how close a call it would be if he himself didn't pick up the pace in his own performances and get higher scores.
...Tsh, listen to myself. He thought, furrowing his brow as he turned away to walk idly a little bit, I used to be so proud of my SP scores in the 80s. Now I'm actually complaining about my scores in the 100s being too low. I can't expect to get ranked that highly every time I skate.
He looked around the halls and open atrium, carefully taking in the sight of all the other skaters, coaches, and event staff. A few reporters seemed to notice he was alone though and started moving over towards him. Yuri shrugged to himself and decided it wouldn't be a crime to allow them their few minutes.
It was a small group, with one man holding up the large camera, a fair-skinned woman with light hair holding a microphone bearing a logo Yuri didn't recognize, and another man to her side with the fluffy grey windscreen on a pole and a bag of audio equipment around his shoulder.
"...Yuri Katsuki?" The woman asked, approaching ahead of the other two, "Do you have a moment?"
It made him twitch unexpectedly to hear his old name, but he tried not to let it bother him, "Oh...you must be local media." He answered, picking up on the French accent, "I don't recognize your sigils."
"Oui. We're from the local news branch. We're documenting all the hype of the event as a showcase to viewers who don't know anything about figure skating."
"...Do you?" Yuri asked pensively. It would be weird to do an interview with people who had no idea what they were asking about, or who might not understand his answers.
"I do. They don't." The reporter smiled sweetly, "That's why I was chosen to do the talking."
"That's good then." The skater nodded, "I have time. Viktor doesn't go up until the end, so..."
"So tell us about this whole thing like we don't know what's going on!" She asked him, "Introduce yourself first though!"
"...Sure." He answered, feeling the butterflies again, "When should I start...?"
The woman clapped her hands where she could, holding the shaft of the microphone with one of them, but then stepped up to him and allowed the camera operator to get them both into frame. He gave the signal, and the woman started doing her song and dance.
[This is Sportscaster Belmonte, and we're here again at the Trophy of France. With me now is a friend of France's favorite Russian, Viktor Nikiforov.] She started to describe in French.
Yuri listened for key-words, hoping he'd recognize enough that he'd know what she was saying before she made him reply to her.
[...Before we go on, I'll let him introduce himself! Bear with us though, he doesn't speak French!] She said, turning to put the mic close to Yuri so he could speak, "Tell the audience your name and why you're here!"
The skater nodded, not having understood the tepid description she'd given of him, "...My name is Yuri Nikiforov. I'm a skater registered with the Japanese Skating Federation."
He'd barely started before he saw the look change on the woman's face. The audio and camera guys seemed to realize something was weird, too, but they continued on like normal.
"...I'm...I'm here with Viktor as his surrogate coach since he's been training back in my hometown in Japan instead of St. Petersburg like before." Yuri went on, trying to ignore the looks he'd gotten, and suddenly wishing Viktor was there to back him up, "We're here for the second of the four Grand Prix Series events that we're listed in...the first was at Skate Canada, where I took 1st place. Viktor is here for his first event as well. We'll be going to Cup of China for me next, and then to NHK for Viktor last."
"...Aha, well...I see." The woman was a little uncomfortable suddenly, "Explain what the Grand Prix Series is, if you don't mind."
"...Sure..." He nodded, "It's the first major international event in the figure skating season. Those skaters who qualify are assigned to skate at two to three out of a handful of different events, each hosted in a different country. Trophée de France is obviously held here in France, Rostelecom Cup is in Russia, then there's Skate Canada, Progressive Skate America, the NHK Trophy in East Asia, and Cup of China. There used to be an event in Germany but it was discontinued." He explained, immersing himself in the description so the awkwardness wouldn't feel so potent, "Skaters are given points based on how they ranked at each of their pair of events, and the top six skaters from each of the four disciplines will go on to compete at the Grand Prix Final in mid December. The GP Final changes location every year and can be anywhere...last year it was in Barcelona, and this year it's in Detroit."
"You said you won Gold at Skate Canada. Does that mean you've won medals elsewhere as well?"
"Mh. I won Silver at last year's Grand Prix Final, and Gold at both the Four Continents event and the World Championships."
"That's quite impressive." The reporter exclaimed, "So tell us how you know Viktor."
"Oh..." Yuri's heart sunk a little, feeling like that conversation had the potential to get messy if he went into too much detail, "...The year before last, I'd gotten into the Grand Prix Final for the first time, but I came in last. I couldn't shake the failure, and I ranked poorly in the Japanese Nationals after that, too. I was having a hard time deciding whether I should keep skating or not. Viktor agreed to be my coach after he finished out the rest of the season. So...I know him because he came to my hometown to make me a better skater." He decided to bite the bullet after that, knowing people would wonder why he had Viktor's last name as a Japanese man. He held up his right hand and had a dumb look on his face, like the day he first revealed the ring to his friends in Barcelona, "...We ended up getting married right before the World Championships last year."
...This is so stressful...! How do they not know any of this stuff!? Why are they giving me such weird looks!? This reporter lady knew my old name, and said she knows about skating, but she's acting totally clueless about all the important stuff!
He was practically sweating bullets.
"Well that's...great!" She feigned, turning back to the camera, [So there you have it! Viktor Nikiforov is set to compete within the hour, so wish him luck!] The woman turned back to Yuri one more time and extended her hand.
The skater hesitantly took it, shaking it lightly before letting go again.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Kats-...er...Nikiforov."
The media group half-ran once they were far enough away. Yuri still saw them go though, and he sighed, turning on his heel to go back the way he came. When he finally got back to where Viktor and Yurio had been stretching, he saw that Viktor was up on his feet again, and shuffled in quickly to latch himself to the man's back like a cat.
"...Yuri?" The Russian wondered, arms still up where he'd been pulling on his shoulders.
"...I just had the single weirdest interview in my entire life." The younger man answered, getting Yurio's attention as he said it, "Some local news station. Not one of them seemed to know my name changed!"
"Why would they if they're local?" The blonde posed, "Only skating media would really be in the know on that one. You aren't a participant at this event so they wouldn't have seen your new name."
"I know, but the reporter lady recognized me. She singled me out from halfway across the big hall, and they knew Viktor! Even called him France's favorite Russian! How could they say that if they don't even keep up with what he's doing?"
"Or who he's doing." Viktor smirked, much to Yurio's chagrin.
The Asian skater's cheeks were pink, "...Y-yeah..."
"I'm sure it was nothing. Like Yuratchka said, if they were local news, they probably don't actually follow skating. Calling me what they did was probably on a prompt they were given." The Russian suggested, shrugging as he held to his husband fondly, "If the lady recognized you but used your old name, then maybe she was a skating fan from before last year and just doesn't keep up with SMS. There's a thousand ways it could make sense. Don't take it too seriously, okay?"
Yuri sighed, but nodded, "...Yeah, it was probably nothing."