(Author's Note: I gotta tweak Yuri's SP cuz the rules weren't that clear before (I could only find mention of the minimum requirements, and none of them ever mentioned limits/maximums like they did for the Free Skate rules.) He isn't technically allowed to do all the quads I originally wrote, so I have to scale it back to be in line with regulations. Sorry. Moving forward, it'll be as though I never messed up; 3A, 4S-3Lo , and 4Lz will be all he does. I'll probably make the excuse that his program wasn't artistic enough or something, as many skaters IRL have been penalized for focusing too much on jumps and not enough on expression/other skills. Also OMFG it's been more than 50 chapters since Yuri did this program at Skate Canada _ What have I done.)
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOURTY EIGHT
"First to take the ice for this evening's Men's Singles Short Program, is Czech Republic's Emil Nekola!"
Czech flags and signs came out all around the arena, washing the stadium over in red, blue, and white color.
"Cheer loudly for me, okay guys?" The skater asked, giving a thumbs-up and a wink to the Crispino twins as they waited in the front-row stands, just behind where he was waiting by the rink entrance. The 6-foot tall, scraggly-looking hipster dashed out to the cheers and cries of the audience, making a big circle as he acknowledged them and the judges, and then meandered over to his place in center.
His outfit was 20 different shades of blue, with blue and clear rhinestones across the left shoulder, and a long, billowy sash around his waist that waved about from his right hip. He even had a streak of ultramarine in his hair, just enough to frost the tips of his bangs.
"GANBAAAAAA, EMIL!" Yuri hollered from the curtain to the prep-area. It hadn't been lost on him that Emil was the only person who had returned his hug at Rostelecom the year before. Everyone else had been too surprised to move, shocked into screaming, stunned into silence, or ran away like their ass was on fire.
The Czech skater lifted his head and looked to see him, then smirked and flicked his fingers off his forehead in a half-assed-but-well-meant salute of thanks, and finally took his pose. A drag of bass boomed overhead.
Yo listen up here's a story, about a little guy that lives in a blue world
And all day and all night and everything he sees is just blue
Like him inside and outside, blue his house with a blue little window
And a blue corvette, and everything is blue for him
And his-self and everybody around 'cause he ain't got...nobody...to listen...
The audience had already started singing along with the lyrics, the song popular and well known by many, even in China. Emil was gliding around the short end of the arena, looking for his take-off spot...and vaulted into a quad Loop on the next boom.
Yuri ducked back behind the curtain, skate-guards clunking along the floor as he looked around for his coach.
Viktor was still shooing Yurio back to the audience section where he should've been, "You don't even have a badge, you shouldn't be down here."
"Everyone knows who I am though!"
"And everyone knows you're not competing here so you gotta goooooo." The older Russian went on, pushing the blonde right out the swinging double-doors. He ducked out right behind him though, and then spun the teen on his heels to face him, looking him straight in the eyes with a serious look on his face, "Did you at all mention Mikhail?"
"...Shit, you actually said his name for once."
"Did you mention him to Yuri or not?"
"Does he look anxious to you?"
Viktor glowered, not willing to ask the question a third time.
"No, I didn't. Not directly anyway." Yurio shrugged the hands off his shoulders, "But he won't know what I meant until he knows Mikhail's not actually here."
Slate eyes blinked, "...Not directly?"
The door suddenly pushed open behind him, whacking him in the arse and vaulting him forward, squashing Yurio between himself, the door, and the wall rather unceremoniously. When Yuri finally squeezed through, wondering why it wouldn't open all the way, he caught a glimpse of the SkaterSandwich and promptly tried to pull them apart.
"Ahhh I'm so sorry! I didn't see you!" He protested, peeling Viktor's face off the wall, and then Yurio off Viktor's chest, "Why were you hiding right behind the door like that anyway?"
Both figures deadpanned him for lack of knowing how to answer, though Yurio looked rather grumpy either way.
Viktor rubbed his nose and forehead, "It...uh..."
Like before, Yuri glanced at them skeptically, "...You're both being weird again." His eyes went from his husband to his rival, "...You're not making plans for some crazy surprise birthday thing for me, are you?"
The blonde just lifted his head and rolled with it, looking at Viktor like they'd been found out, "Well, there goes the surprise."
"You really don't have to do anything..." Yuri insisted, waving his hands around slowly, "Viktor and I already did some stuff for it so...it'd be weird to celebrate the same thing twice..."
The older Russian was finally starting to think that maybe his partner really didn't know anything about the accident yet, and glanced back at Yurio with the relief easy to see on his face. He turned back to Yuri after that and stepped forward, grabbing the handle to the door and pulling just as he put the other hand around his husband's shoulders, "We should get back. You're up in probably a minute or less."
"Viktor, wait a second." The blonde protested, stepping clear of the door and around the pair's backs. They both glanced over at him, and watched as he pulled one hand back out of his hoodie's front pocket, extending his arm, "Davai."
The older skater smiled excitedly, and reached his free hand back to return the gesture, getting an unexpected second hug from the Russian Punk in less than 15 minutes, "Spasibo! See you after!"
The music in the arena finally came to a dramatic end, and the crowd's cheering roared.
Yuri was pulling off the wireless ear-bud collar from around his neck, and handed it off to his partner as they moved towards the curtains to get back to rinkside. The butterflies in his stomach were coming back in full force. Just as he was about to expect Viktor to reach for the curtain though, the hand that extended outward came around instead and pulled him into a tight hug. His own arms were pinned somewhat to his sides as the Russian pressed in closer, cheek and lips against his neck, warm breaths slowly moving across his skin.
"There's nothing wrong with the score you got in Canada." The silver man said against his flesh, raising a few goosebumps, "It's not as high as it was at Worlds, but that's the difference between the first and last performances of a season. You've gotten so much better than you used to be, but that's no guarantee that you'll always score better than the last time you performed."
Hazel eyes turned slightly as the younger skater listened, and he finally managed to unpin his arms enough to return the hug as well as he could manage.
"The time we practiced in Paris was enough to retool the program and bring it back to the artistic level everyone expects from you." Viktor went on, moving his face up just enough to speak gently against his husband's ear, "So aim for a score over 100, but stay loose out there. Your program is fun and upbeat, so enjoy yourself a little, okay?"
"The score for Emil Nekola...88.52!"
The crowd cheered excitedly, and the sandy-blonde skater did too, fully standing upright in the kiss and cry to wave his arms around.
Yuri felt another tight squeeze before Viktor finally let him go and turned to pull the curtain aside, the fans still cheering as Emil was getting out of the kiss and cry. They hustled over to the open rink-wall and quickly moved to get golden blades on the ice.
"The next skater performing...representing Japan, Yuri Nikiforov!"
It almost felt like thunder when the cheering began, morphing from the excitement of a skater that just scored a new personal best, to exploding with enthusiasm for a Gold medalist about to take the ice. The boom pounded against Yuri's chest like ocean waves, making his throbbing heart feel like it was beating out of synch with itself. He reached a hand up to try and slow it.
Calm down...calm down... You can still get to the GP Final even if you don't take Gold at this event... It's not a requirement... It's just...what everyone in the world wants from you and you better not mess this up. You'll be a huge disappointment, and it'll make Viktor look bad...!
"Yuri."
"Hah!?" He practically jumped, feeling like he'd been yanked out of a deep sleep suddenly.
The young skater flipped around and found Viktor there with his hand out, waiting for the blade guards. The sound of the crowd was deafening, but Yuri didn't need to hear anything to notice the look on Viktor's face changing from its usual 'go out there and do good' expression, to 'oh shit what just happened?' He nervously turned away and held to the rink wall as he reached his hand down to grab the first blade guard...only to drop it. A shaky hand went to grab it, but found a paler one grabbing it first.
"Yuri, what's gotten into you suddenly? You were fine a minute ago." Viktor asked quietly, tucking the rubber sheath under his arm to wait for the second.
The younger figure just moved faster to get the other guard off, handed it over, shrugged out of his coat, and bolted for the ice. The Russian followed him along the rink-wall to where the poodle-plush tissue box had been stashed, and as soon as Yuri paused, he reached over to take the skater's hands to pull him around.
"Yuri...!"
"I'm just..." He stammered, "I just got really nervous. I-I can't explain it."
"Take a deep breath. Slowly. Relax." Viktor advised, moving his hands up to cup around his partner's face, fingers just around the back of his neck, "Close your eyes and breathe."
Yuri did as told, but his breaths were shaky despite his best efforts. By the third inhalation, he felt where Viktor had leaned in to kiss him, but it did little more than make the audience scream even louder and make him feel even more anxious. When the Russian pulled away, Yuri opened his eyes, but kept them low until he felt a thumb stroke his cheek.
"I had hoped you'd go blank when I did that, but I guess it didn't work." Viktor said, dismayed, "I don't know what else I can do now."
"I'm going to fall apart out there now, aren't I?"
Minako watched Yuri's body-language carefully, seeing his head droop despite his eyes being wide open. Yurio was only just getting back to reclaim his seat, scooting past other spectators' legs, and suddenly getting grabbed by the hand.
"You didn't tell him about Mikhial did you?" The ballerina asked nervously, not even letting him sit yet.
"What? No." The blonde said pensively, yanking his hand back and moving to sit next to her.
"Then why is he about to have a nervous breakdown?" She wondered, pointing at where the skater was hesitantly moving away from the rink wall, "He looks like he's about to cry."
"...I literally just talked to him a minute ago. He was fine."
Minako had her hands up over her mouth, but then reached again for Yurio's wrist and hoisted him back to standing. She drew in a deep breath, "YURRRIIIIII!"
Somehow, her voice cut through the crowd, and the skater lifted his head, scanning the audience for its source, "Minako-sensei?"
"GANBAREEEEEE! YURRRIIIII!" She called again, holding up her banner in one hand and making Yurio hold up the other side himself.
"Huh?" Yuri blinked at them, seeing all the other seats around them occupied, "...Where's Mikhail?"
'I just didn't expect you! No one said you were coming to Shanghai.'
'I got lucky at someone else's expense.'
"...Someone...else's expense..." He echoed the words in his memory, gliding slowly across the ice, "...Is that why everyone's been acting weird? Did something happen to him...?" He turned his head to glance back at his husband, pointing up into the stands to where Minako and Yurio were waving at him still.
When Viktor realized what Yuri must've figured out, he went down on his knees behind the rink-wall, only his eyes, hair, and fingers visible anymore. The guilt of it made him want to be invisible.
...This isn't going to end well...
.
The door was pushed open, dress-shoes kicked off, hat and coat set onto the coat-rack just within the hall...and two tired feet scuffled across the dark hard-wood floor. It was just after 11am in Moscow, and a certain formerly-crippled-but-still-feeling-crippled Russian wandered in like a zombie.
He mashed his face against the nearest wall and stood there for a minute in silence. It happened again when he peeled out of his dusty, hospital-smelling clothing, and again as he stood in the shower, and again as he face-planted against the sofa in the livingroom. He'd at least managed to set his briefcase down next to the coffee-table earlier, so he hazily reached for his phone and glanced at the World Clock tab.
"It's 6:15 in Shanghai now..." He mumbled to himself carelessly...but then grey-green eyes shot open and he was up with a start, fishing for his tablet and the remote control for the television embedded in the wall ahead of him. Both were on quickly, and as quickly as he could, Mikhail synched them together, then went looking for any working LiveStreams of the Cup of China event.
Finally finding one that was working, he looked up at the massive flat-panel, and immediately started to worry. He saw Yuri pacing idly in a big circle, looking at the ice...and then even worse, he saw Viktor still in his hiding place. He immediately went for his phone and started tapping away.
.
Oh oh oh oh ohhhhh
The music finally started high above, energetic and exciting...completely the opposite of how Yuri felt at the time, but he raised his right hand up all the same. His left foot turned in a semi-circle behind him, forcing him to turn in place, and he brought his left hand out as he continued the rotation.
Oh oh oh oh ohhhhh
Minako and Yurio had returned to sitting, realizing their last-ditch effort to show support had done little or nothing to motivate the skater. The ballerina could hardly look away, save for the moment she felt the vibration in her coat pocket. Withdrawing it, the motion caught Yurio's attention as well, and when he caught sight of Mikhail's name at the top of the screen, pulled his own phone out, too.
[What the Hell happened? Why is Viktor hiding behind the goddamn rink-wall?]
I messed up tonight, I lost another fight, I still mess up but I'll just start again.
[Yuri just realized you're not here and Viktor was trying really hard to prevent that.] The woman answered, looking up at the ice just in time to see Yuri barely land his triple Axel.
I'm sure there were enough rotations for that one, but he'll get points taken off for the bad landing...
[That's ridiculous.] Mikhail texted back, [Why would my not being there cause this much of a kerfuffle? It's really not that big of a deal.]
[Skaters' hearts are made of glass.] Minako answered, [Especially his. He only just noticed you weren't here when he saw Yura sitting in your place, so no one's had time to explain what happened yet.]
[Something else is going on.] Yurio messaged them both, forcing them into a Group Chat, having read the messages on Minako's phone discretely over her shoulder, [He was already freaking out before he even looked at us.]
I won't give up, no I won't give in, 'til I reach the end and then I'll start again
"Coming up is one of Skater Yuri's trademark moves...the Level 4 Combination Spin."
No, I won't leave, I wanna try everything, I wanna try even though I could fail.
All messages stopped for a moment as eyes went to the ice. Mercifully, Yuri seemed to pull through that one. He rose back up again and started gaining speed.
"Up next is the first of two Quads in the program...and!"
Everyone had their phones up in front of their noses, eyes wide.
"Oh! It became a double-Salchow double-Loop..."
I won't give up, no I won't give in, 'til I reach the end and then I'll start again
Viktor had finally risen back to his feet by then, but was even more anxious about the rest of the show than the non-skaters who were watching.
Come on, Yuri...get it together, you can still do this...! I know you can!
[This is embarrassing.] Yurio typed.
No, I won't leave, I wanna try everything, I wanna try even though I could fail
[What's he all worked up about then? Yura.] Mikhail messaged back.
The teen grit his teeth, but then tapped away at his screen, [My guess is it's the pressure. The whole thing with everyone expecting him to win gold here, like they know Viktor's going to at NHK.]
The flying camel spin lost the death-drop element, and Yuri mentally cursed himself, knowing he'd just lost out on one of the Short Program's required components.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, try everything
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, try everything
He hopped, almost doing a butterfly kick as he vaulted into the second half of the spin.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, try everything
The Biellmann spin didn't go as planned either though, as he lost his grip on the bottom of his skate about halfway through, forcing him to donut-spin the rest of it.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh...
I'm too dizzy... Yuri thought, seeing the world spin around him uncontrollably, unlike how he knew it should look, I don't know if I'm going to make it...
Look how far you've come, you filled your heart with love, baby, you've done enough, take a deep breath.
Ina Bauer.
Don't beat yourself up, don't need to run so fast, sometimes we come last, but we did our best.
The shine from the silver of the costume was becoming distracting, but Yuri continued on as well as he could. His sudden stop in the middle of the rink was less dramatic than it had been when he had been hyped for the program in Calgary, and he was sure people were starting to notice the exhausted, stressed-out look on his face where it should've been happy and confident. He cracked the ice three times with his right skate in time with the last 3 beats of the stanza, and then moved off again in another short twizzle to get to the other end of the rink.