CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOURTY THREE
"Wow~!" Viktor chimed excitedly, "I haven't been here since the last World Championship was held in Shanghai! Seeing this place is always breathtaking though!"
It was evening along the Huangpu River, and the last light of the setting sun was shining on the face of the Shanghai Oriental Sports Center. The oblong structure was lined with a series of long, upside-down-pyramid-like structures, which rose higher around the short ends of the building, giving the venue something of a saddle-shape, similar to the Calgary Saddledome where Yuri had last competed. It was surrounded on all sides by calm water, with a long, wide bridge connecting it to the main roadway.
"The last time I was here..." Yuri started, adjusting his glasses as he stared up at the building, "...Was at that same World Championships. I think I came in 7th or something. That was right smack in the middle of your winning streak."
"Seventh isn't too bad." Viktor mused, coming around behind the younger skater, sliding his hand along Yuri's lower back, "You'll get Gold here this time. No one else on the roster has come close to your scores."
"Don't let me get back into that mindset again." Yuri warned cautiously, "I'd rather not lose my voice two events in a row."
The Russian just huffed a laugh before leaning against his husband's back, the hand that had been on Yuri's back now wrapping around to the front as the left came up around the younger man's chest. He settled his chin on the shorter figure's shoulder, "I won't. But there's nothing wrong with being at least a little confident in yourself. You just need to learn how to moderate it. This is a whole new area for you!"
"I don't know that it mixes all that well with my anxiety though...I'd rather let you be the one that's confident that I'll win. I'll just go out there and skate."
"Hm..." Viktor hummed to himself, "Well, we've already made the necessary changes to your program. Just do like you did before and acknowledge the judges before you do the audience. But, this is also the Asian circuit...the judges may like you better than the rest anyway just by default."
"Maybe..."
.
.
Mikhail had left Minako with Yurio once they'd returned to St. Petersburg. He gave the obligatory tour of all the places Yuri had been while he lived there, and even showed off the empty husk of Viktor's old house, but a few days into the week, duty was calling. He kissed his Lady Love's hand and cheek goodbye, pat the teen on the head, asked them to watch out for one another, and then piled into the cobalt-blue rental car alone to make the solemn journey north.
It was late afternoon by the time he'd gotten there. His phone lost reception and the internet signal was gone, so it was just a really fancy and expensive calculator by the time all was said and done. He still got the same queer looks from the few remaining townsfolk as he drove by in his Futuristic Wonder Machine, but the looks turned to disinterested glances of 'oh it's you' once they saw his grey-haired head step out of the vehicle. By then, he'd had to swap his usual flatcap for the more robust winter hat he'd worn when he first went with Konstantin to the St. Petersburg Skate Club. The hat was old and musty, but the fur lining was still soft, and kept the winter wind at bay.
Snow was falling all around, obscuring most everything past 50 paces in any given direction. He could see the outline of the trees and the hill, with its 'rancid little shack' sitting to the right side of the path, and the family graveyard to the left.
How can he stand to sleep so close to Tatiyana's grave…?
[Didn't think you'd be back so soon, Mik.]
The skinny Russian turned at the sound of the voice, and spotted the hulking man-bear there behind him, coming up around the other side of his hybrid.
Konstantin held an axe over one shoulder and a bundle of firewood under the other, [Not after everything that happened the last two times you were here, anyway.]
[There's an American song,] Mikhail started, grabbing a small briefcase from the back seat before closing the door, and followed the Nikiforov patriarch towards the snow-buried path, [It goes...'country roads, take me home, to the place I belong.' I don't think I'll ever completely get away from this place. Not now, at any rate.]
Even in death, Tatiyana never escaped this place...
They came to the fork in the road, and Mikhail took a step to the left as Konstantin paused behind him, wondering what he'd do. The younger figure could see the outline of his sister's grave marker through the fog and gently-falling white fluff, but he felt a strange hesitation to step towards it.
[You want to come inside first? It's a long trip even from St. Petersburg.]
Grey-green eyes went back around, but then closed as Mikhail shook his head, [I'll be there in a few minutes. Gonna say hi first.]
[Suit yourself.]
Snow crunched beneath the larger man's feet as he started moving away, fading as the noise of a wooden door opened and closed. Mikhail waited until he was sure the man was gone before he started walking again, reaching up with a gloved hand to pull his scarf a bit higher over his face. It wasn't far to the bench in front of the angel statue denoting Tatiyana's plot. He cleared the freshly fallen snow off of it and sat down, grateful for his thick coat, protecting his skinny backside from the bone-numbing cold of the marble seat.
He kept his eyes low, staring at the white ground where his sister was hidden away forever. He pulled up the briefcase and opened it, withdrawing a tablet, and setting it on his lap as it turned on.
[Been a while, Tat.] He started, [I've been Viktor's shadow since I saw him. You'd be proud of him.]
The tablet's home-screen wallpaper was the 'Silver Russians Far From Home' photo that had been taken in Helsinki. There was still a subtle hint of insecurity on Viktor's face, but it was obvious he was doing his best. If you didn't know he was uncomfortable with the whole thing, you'd almost be unable to tell he had been at all.
[I should've given you all the details the last time we talked, but it was kind of a rough day for everyone, so I kind of forgot. Sorry about that. Viktor got what you left him though, so that's good news.] He went on, opening up the first photo gallery, which included mostly photos he'd copied from ISU or RSF sources. [But...anyway, I found out kind of late that you were tracking Viktor on television. I imagine the signal out here was pretty bad though, especially in winter, so I brought a bunch of stuff to show you. I even have copies of his music. You'd like Aria.]
Fingers went across the touch-screen to pull up iTunes, and hit play on the aforementioned song. As the lyrics resonated through the graveyard, Mikhail swiped through the gallery. There were photos of every performance since the young Russian's first performance in the Junior ISU, poor-quality as some of them may have been. He pulled up a photo specifically of the Aria costume just before the song ended.
[He serenaded his future spouse with this song.] Mikhail explained, [Yuri is a skater just like Viktor is, and a World Champion now, too. I…] His words trailed as a photo of Duetto unexpectedly came up, [...Thought I had that in the Pairs folder, sorry. Spoilers.] Fingers went over Yuri's image, [I don't think I ever really knew what your opinion was on this sort of thing, but after everything you went through, and after losing Vik the way you did, I bet you'd just be happy if you knew he was happy...and I can safely report that he is. Vik had a few girlfriends in the past...even ran into one just this past weekend unexpectedly...but in the end, his soulmate turned out to be one of his own fellow competitors.] He recalled the few minutes Viktor had spent on that very bench after his father had tacitly accepted the skating, [I hope he at least told you a little bit about what's happened to him, since he had a few minutes alone with you last time he was here...but if he didn't, the long and short of it is that he flew off to Japan after winning his 5th straight World Championship Gold, to be Yuri's coach. By the next season's World Championships, they were married.]
A damp feeling on his eyes quickly turned icy cold in the breeze, and the silver Russian reached up to rub the frost away.
[I guess I got back just in time to get to be a part of all that...for myself, and for you.] Mikhail could tell that his efforts were futile, since as soon as he wiped the existing tears away, new ones came to replace them, so he just lowered his hand again to the side of the tablet, [Those two dorks eloped to Barcelona right before Worlds so no one got to hear their real wedding vows, so Yuri's family arranged a big to-do with a Japanese wedding ceremony and this big skating party. All these other skaters turned up for it, and I swear, half of Hasetsu tried to pack into the Ice Castle to see them and celebrate. The JSF LiveStreamed the whole thing, too...it was insanity. Viktor even did this big speech at one point, and I don't think there was a dry eye in the building…]
He pulled up a video of the event, finding Viktor's moment as a clip of its own and sliding through the timeline until he found the part he wanted.
"I can't even count how many times since that night that I've fallen in love with you, Yuri." Viktor's recording said, "Every single day, I wake up with you next to me, and I wonder how I'd ever been so lucky. Every time I see you skate, I'm in awe of how far you've come, and it makes me so incredibly happy to have had the honor and privilege of helping you get there. Every time you glance around at the world with that special look in your eyes, like you're looking for something...I realize just how much I want to protect and cherish you. Is it even really appropriate to use a word like 'love' to describe how I feel for you? I feel like there isn't a word strong enough to describe it. So, like you, I've settled to call this feeling 'love' for lack of knowing what else to do with it…"
Mikhail fastforwarded again.
"So for the rest of our lives, Yuri, and into the next...Stammi vicino."
[See?] He huffed through happy tears, [He came up with that whole thing on the fly, too. Yuri couldn't even skate his program for a while after because he was a complete wreck from the whole thing. You'd have really liked him. He's a sweet kid...modest, sensible...pretty bad anxiety though. But he gives everything he has when he puts his mind to something...pushed himself so hard at Worlds that he fainted at the end of his Free Skate.]
A few clicks, and he brought up the video of Duetto from Four Continents. Watching it start, hearing the piano music and the slightly-more-subdued lyrics, Mikhail crossed his arms and watched Yuri skate. Quad Lutz, quad Flip...and then Viktor. The sound of the crowd losing its mind was enough to give Mikhail goosebumps.
[This was the last time they skated before the whole thing out here happened…] He explained, [I wish you'd have tried to call me or something… I could've helped you… What's a brother good for if not protecting his sister?]
He had to pause for a little while to collect himself, raising the scarf over his whole face as Duetto went on.
[Maybe nothing at all since it was me that stopped calling home.] He sighed, speaking the muffled words into the dark-blue wool, [I abandoned you the same way I abandoned Viktor… I can only hope I'm on the right path to eventually earn your forgiveness…] He rubbed his eyes on the scratchy material before he looked down at the tablet again, seeing Duetto come to an end. He pulled up the video list again and highlighted the one for The Ghost, but hesitated to play it. He pulled his hand back again and wedged both between his arms and sides, [Viktor called me Uncle Mimi again for the first time since before I left. It happened just the other day...completely blindsided me, too. It's been 8 months since I really got involved with the boys, and it took all that time for Vik to finally accept me. He'd been calling me just 'Uncle' the whole time, like he thought that if he avoided saying my name, he could avoid accepting and moving on from what happened here.]
The scarf fell away a little as the elder Russian pulled his hand back. He drew in a sharp breath as he composed himself.
[I haven't gotten to talk to him directly since he said it though, so I'm not sure that he meant it, or even if he remembers saying it at all...he was a bit drunk at the time. But, with any luck, he's an honest drunk like his husband. I'll be seeing them both in Shanghai in a few days for Yuri's next GP event. Viktor knows I'm here this week. I'll tell him you said hi. He's still a bit shy about dealing with this place, so he didn't give me any message to pass along...maybe one day he'll come back on his own.]
Instead of playing The Ghost, he went back to the towards the top of the list and played a file labeled 'Helsinki Worlds EX Gala Opening Ceremony.' He watched quietly as the huge group of skaters poured out onto the ice, with Viktor flocking close to Yuri the whole time. He smiled when the part came up that Viktor did his unexpected back-flip, recalling how even Yuri hadn't known he could do it until he saw it.
[Could you have ever imagined how good he'd get at this, when he first skated on that pond?] Mikhail wondered, looking past the statue to where he knew the small spit of ice lay just beyond the crest of the hill, [Five time consecutive World Champion, Russia's hero...people all over the world screaming his name. And here I am, following him around like he used to do to me, and yet, if I set foot on the ice, I'd be on my arse in a hot second.] He laughed at his own expense, [Thankfully, no one's asked me to get into the rink yet, so they don't know what an embarrassment I'd be.] He looked up at the face of the statue, [I bet you'd be a glorious skater if you'd had half a chance.] His throat started to hurt, so he lowered his face again as he held it over the scarf, [I still don't understand why you had to marry Konstantin. Of all the people in the world...why him? You could've done so much… You left this place, went to school, saw the world...and yet came back and settled for this?] Mikhail cast his arm around in an arc to put the hamlet on display through the frosty, fog-laden air, [I mean, I'm glad you did, cuz Viktor wouldn't exist if you hadn't...but still… For you, this was a massive step back. Was being on your own really so terrifying? You could've come to the Ukraine or Canada with me. We were practically tied at the hip as kids, I wouldn't have minded. Hell, maybe having you around would've prevented the kerfuffle with my ex...I wouldn't have been so desperate for company if I already had family around.]
He scrunched his shoulders indignantly, like he almost held the whole thing against the woman.
[Water under the bridge, I guess.] He paused, but then huffed a laugh and shook his head, [Between Vik and Yuri, and even their teenaged competition, Yuratchka...I ended up having three more kids. It's so depressing how you never got to meet a single one of them. And all this, after I spent half my life insisting I'd never be a father. If there is a God, this must be His revenge for how much of a terror I was in my younger years.]
Another pause...Mikhail stared at where his ankles crossed in the snow ahead of himself. He suddenly started laughing though, despite the tears rolling down his face anew.
[I have this lady-friend from Yuri's hometown...she's just like you used to be. Spirited, passionate, excitable… We messed around once, almost by accident, way back before Viktor and Yuri's wedding party, but not since. She got drunk and I got bored, and well, that's always a recipe for success, right? We were snowed in for a whole night...but I don't know if that's enough of an excuse.] He sighed, looking just past the Nikiforov house, down the ridge towards where his own house once stood, [I feel like she wants more from me, but I don't know… I feel like I'm too old to do all this again.] He looked to the tablet and saw that it was November 29th. [It's Yuri's birthday today...he's turning 25. I'm turning 59 in April. AHH I HATE BEING OLD...]
Another 30 minutes or so passed before he finally finished and allowed himself the warmth of the indoors. His eyes were red, but he knew Konstantin wouldn't mention it, which was a blessing in itself. The large, gruff man was at the small kitchen table, looming over a newspaper. Two page-turns later, and he was staring at a full-page insert in the sports section showing off Viktor's gold medal victory, announcing his return as Russia's hero. Slate blue eyes scanned it seriously.
Mikhail saw it as he passed behind, having swiped the Cognac and a glass from the kitchen while Konstantin wasn't looking. He'd shed the thick exterior shell of coats and sweaters and hats by then, looking like a wet cat by comparison. The collage of all of Viktor's different outfits, printed in color, were splendid to behold, and he pulled up the chair next to the man to explain each of them. Mikhail smiled to notice that the press hadn't even bothered editing out Viktor's ring this time around. A finger went down on the first outfit, [This was for his Short Program, called History Maker. He and Yuri sang it together as a duet.]
The younger man looked for any reaction, but Konstantin's face was like stone, so he shrugged and went on.
[This one's from his solo Exhibition, and this one from the Pair Exhibition he did with Yuri at the end as a surprise. This one was from his Free Skate or Long Program, called Evoke. You actually inspired it.]
[Heaven help me.] Konstantin rubbed the bridge of his many-times-broken-nose, [Why?]
[You beat his ass and he was mad about it?]
The larger figure just half-growled to himself, leaning back and crossing his arms.
[The program was about rage. He packed all his fury into 4 and a half minutes and had Yuri remind him of all the shit you'd done to them just to get himself all riled up again.]
[I thought we were even on the skating thing.]
Mikhail shrugged, [Viktor had already made plans for that show before I came back with him for that last visit. I imagine he was happy with it so he didn't make changes. I have video of it if you want to see.] He offered, waiting anxiously for a reply again. To his shock and surprise, the hulking figure nodded and waved his hand, like some King being forced to acknowledge a peasant. Mikhail got excited to show it off though, pulling up his tablet again and finding the footage he'd saved.
Konstantin's face didn't change as the video played, although his eyes did widen a little to see how much ice was kicked up during the sit-spin. Mikhail huffed a laugh as he noticed it.
[Viktor's rink-mate,] A finger went down onto the smaller insert in the newspaper, on the right side of the page, [Yuratchka Plisetsky, ended up tripping over the scar that move left behind when he went out after.] He explained, [Almost fell right over. I nearly choked on myself when I saw it. I'm his sponsor now, you know? The event staffers had to go patch the thing once he was done just so the next skater wouldn't end up on his ass on the ice. He was fuming about how he probably lost points and how they should've known to pack the gouge before he went on.]
[Maybe that's why I got that phone call.]
[Eh?] Mikhail stopped, [You got a call about Yura?]
[No, about Viktor. The person on the other end spoke shit for Russian so I only understood half of it.] He explained, reaching for the Cognac and pouring himself a drink with the glass Mikhail had meant to use for himself, and thus getting quite the look for it, [Asking something about Viktor's skating rink or another.]
[But why would anyon-] The silver man paused, recalling suddenly a brief glimpse at a fan-news-article that he'd seen while scrolling through Instagram the afternoon of the Free Skate. He unconsciously reached over and swiped the glass right out of Konstantin's hand before he could even drink it, and sipped at it himself idly as the whole memory percolated in his mind.
[I'm not going to get dragged into any of this shit, am I? I hung up without saying anything else, so I better not get more calls. If someone shows up here...]
Mikhail blinked, but then quickly drained the glass in a single swig, setting it down on the wooden table with a 'klink,' [If no one ever called you back, then probably not. There's these self-styled paparazzi in the skating fandom, and someone got photos of us from that time you showed me where Viktor's home rink was. They rightly guessed who you were, but I don't know that anything else came of it. I don't even know if Viktor saw the post. He didn't mention it.]
[Would he have?]
[With everything else that happened? Even if he didn't say so with words, I think I would've been able to tell.]
[Don't make me chase you down a rabbit hole, Mikhail. Out with it.] Konstantin grumbled, tacitly trying to show interest even if it bothered him to know.
Mikhail just shrugged and grabbed the glass bottle of caramel-colored liquor, pouring his own drink that time, [A former girlfriend of Viktor's from years ago turned up at the competition as a sports reporter. Viktor had a minor melt-down about i-]
[Girlfriend?]
[...Ex-girlfriend, but...yes?]
[So then why is he with that man if he's been with women before?]
The conversation got really tense suddenly.
Mikhail downed the second glass almost as quickly as the first, gingerly setting the cup down again, keeping his fingers around the lip as he looked on skeptically, [That man is Yuri Nikiforov now and he makes Viktor very happy. No woman could ever do for him what Yuri does, without forcing him to sacrifice everything he already knows and is passionate about.]
More grumbling. He clearly wasn't thinking about the skating aspect of it. The very concept of his son being intimate with another man made him cringe visibly.
[I know you hate it, but it is what it is.] Mikhail explained, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms, bringing one ankle over his knee, [I could go on and on about why you should accept it and be happy for your kid, but I know it's a pointless conversation...so I won't. Suffice it to say, half the planet is on the edge of their seats right now because your son and his husband are top-ranked skaters going into competition against each other in a winner-takes-all sort of Royal Rumble. The entire Final is basically ''Nikiforov vs Nikiforov' and 4 other skaters of varying import.' If he married some lady-skater, no one would even care this much...Viktor probably wouldn't even be skating anymore. Yuri's the only reason he came back, and he's going to make everyone regret ever thinking he was retiring for good just because he took time off to play coach.]
Silence. A tacit sigh, and a look to the side. Mikhail waited.
Konstantin just took the glass back and poured another drink, [Let the world be in awe of the skating then. His marriage is not recognized in the eyes of God.]
[I don't think Viktor cares what God thinks.]
[He'll be judged one day.]
[...I don't think Viktor thinks that's true.]
[Then he's a fool.]
[An exceptionally talented fool who happens to be incapable of controlling who he falls in love with, just like the rest of us.] Mikhail deadpanned him, arms crossing a little tighter than before, [You can't scare him into heterosexuality anymore than you can convince Yuri to turn into a woman. Hell, the way those two are, they're only gay for each other anyway.] He let himself laugh at it, [Both of them had interested in the ladies before they found each other.]
Konstantin growled all the same, [That doesn't change what Viktor is now.]
Mikhail threw his arms up dramatically, [He's not hurting anyone!]
[It's an abomination.]
[If God doesn't want men to be with each other then why did he make it so guys can orgasm with butt-stuff, huh? If God only ever wanted men and women to have purely vanilla sex, solely for the purpose of reproduction, then He never would've made it possible for women to enjoy it to begin with, or for men to enjoy being penetrated themselves.]
Konstantin looked visibly uncomfortable, but his younger in-law wouldn't stop.
[But maybe you wouldn't know that because you've never felt it? Well, here's an anatomy lesson...there's this crazy little organ called a prostate that can only be meddled with through the back-door, and shockingly...if it gets meddled with, a man can get pleasure from it. Might even get off without anyone ever touching his cock. Did God put a fun-button in every man's derriere just to fuck with us? To tempt us into sinning?]
[That's enough.]
[No, think about it.] Mikhail insisted, [Your big bad Book of Rules came from an era in human history where people didn't know their asses from a hole in the ground. They thought epileptic seizures were demon possession and that by swinging a chicken around their heads, they could transfer sin out of themselves. Believe in God all you want, but accept that the Book was written by men and they might've gotten a few things wrong. If two dudes banging makes you uncomfortable then that's fine, but don't think you can get away with condemning your own son to eternal Hellfire because God made him fall in love with another man. You can't think God's in control and then say Viktor managed to usurp His will at the same time. Who has more power here? God or Viktor?]
[God, always.]
[Then this is God's doing as much as Viktor's skating talent is.]
[God would never do this. God made man and woman for the purpose of bringing souls into the world.]
[And if that were always true, why are humans one of the only animals in the world that don't have a rut? Why do humans not have a mating season, huh? Why are men not fighting each other in the streets for breeding rights over whole groups of women?] Mikhail pointed out, [People have sex for pleasure and bonding, at any time of the year, because the whole thing is much bigger than just reproduction. Women can't even get pregnant all the time.] His heart was racing and his body felt light, worried Konstantin would just wallop him to get him to shut his face-hole, but he couldn't help himself, [The real world is a lot more complicated and messy than The Word makes it sound like. If God made Viktor love another man while at the same time saying that it's a torment-worthy offense, then God created Viktor for the sole purpose of burning him forever. Why would He give such a man such incredible talent and genius, only to turn His radiant light into a shower of burning fire in the end?]
The inquiry was making Konstantin shut down. Mikhail could see it, so he relented, sighed, and shook his head, then reached back for his tablet, [I'll digress. Let me show you photos from Viktor's shows. I even promise not to show you anything you might find objectionable. Viktor's more than just a sinner.]
The man-bear looked up, grit his teeth, remembered what he'd said the last time he saw his son, and grudgingly allowed the photo montage to go on display. It was a meager relief from the previous topic.
The album chosen first was from Worlds, showing Viktor's 'Amnesia' show, and then 'Winter's Wish.' All seemed well and good until the last few shots in the gallery. Konstantin rubbed his eyes, as though the sight of Viktor sitting in Yuri's kiss and cry was painful to behold.
[Oh bah.] Mikhail scolded, [This is actually kinda interesting, if you look at it from just a coach-and-student perspective...you can actually see the moment where Viktor realized Yuri swiped the Gold right out of his hands…] He was flipping through the last few images, still-frames from a video it seemed, with the skater's face changing from excited to suddenly being in shocked disbelief. He knew Konstantin wasn't looking anymore though, so he kept flipping through to look at the full set on his own, including the big 'finale.'
Slate-blue eyes peeked open just in time to get a full visual of Viktor hoisting Yuri over his lap and kissing him, the big bouquet of flowers falling from Yuri's grasp. The patriarch got up so quickly from his chair that he hit the table with his legs, and Mikhail had to swiftly grab his tablet (and the alcohol) before it went flying, a similar look on his face to Viktor's when Yurio had tried kicking him and Yuri out of the kiss and cry at Rostelecom.
[Nothing objectionable huh?]
[You weren't even looking anymore!]
[You're a shit.]
Mikhail watched the older man leave the 'room,' but then waved sarcastically, [And I'm here all night!]