((Author Note JUL/10/17: Ch1-7 have been massively overhauled. Loads of new content has been added, including Japanese Nationals in Ch6&7, plus a bunch of other fluff in the preceding chapters. For those who don't keep tabs on the FB page, here's your heads up. Four Continents and Worlds will be edited accordingly as time allows.))
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SIXTY SIX
Viktor was properly bundled up in a massive feather-down comforter when Mikhail finally came back and resumed his position in the corner of the L-shaped couch. The elder handed his nephew a mug of mulled wine and grabbed for the tablet on the seat-cushion just ahead of his feet, "Alright, ready?"
"Ready." The younger answered, smelling in the spices of the drink, "I'm suddenly really glad I taught you how to make this stuff when you were in Hasetsu with us."
"Yeah, it's pretty nice stuff. I started brewing pretty soon after you texted that you were coming." Mikhail agreed, sipping at his own mug carefully as he tapped through the windows to find his recording, "Here it is. I missed the first minute or two but I got the rest. The only thing you'll miss is this one take-away where the camera panned on Yuri and Yura at rink-side. I think Yuri slept through Gala practice so Yura was telling him what he missed."
"Did you watch the whole thing already?"
"Yeah. It's pretty neat. The opening song is an absolute abomination though."
Viktor laughed nervously at that, "An abomination...?"
"You'll see in a second." Mikhail winked at him, then sat back in his place to get comfortable.
Morooka and Oda did their introductions again, explaining the guaranteed Finalists and those who were still fighting for the last 2 spots. Viktor kept a lip on his mug as he listened, squinting his eyes periodically to try and find his husband on the split-screen. Above, footage of skaters loitering around, waiting to start, and on the bottom, recycled footage to recap the event as a whole. He winced visibly as he saw the clip of Yuri hitting the wall.
"How's he doing with that now anyway?" The elder wondered suddenly, "He does a good job hiding it for the most part, but it's easy to tell he favors that leg."
"Pancake-sized bruise on the hip, right where you can feel the bones." Viktor answered, moving the blanket enough so he could get his hand out and touch a finger and thumb to his uncle's iliac crest and greater trochanter as an example, "Everything from here to here." He said, then taking his hand back to wrap around the mug in front of him, "I accidentally brushed my hand against it that night, before it really looked like much. You can imagine how he felt about that."
"Ouch."
"He'll have 2 weeks to recover from it though so I'm sure he'll be fine by the Final."
"You two are going to be completely wiped out by the end of it."
"Oh, the Final's not even the end of it. Two weeks later, we both have to take off for our National Championships, then we're going to Euros for me, then to Four Continents for Yuri again, and Worlds after that. Then we'll be done for the season." Viktor said, looking tired just explaining it.
His Uncle blinked at him, but then slouched over onto his arm where he'd propped it up against the corner of the head-rest, "Yeesh."
The announcers were finally done with their analysis of the event, and footage switched over to showing the rink from a distance, rising up like a drone overhead. The arena was dark, save the spotlights coming down onto the ice, and the deep, undulating bass with its overlaid redneck honky-tonk music started to play.
If it hadn't been for Cotton-Eye Joe
I'd been married a long time ago
Where did you come from, where did you go?
Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?
Viktor's eyes were open as if in shock, staring at the screen where all the skaters were coming into the rink.
Mikhail watched him carefully.
"Ohmygod."
And he burst out laughing, "SEE!? It's an abomination!"
"...But it's...it's so catchy..." Viktor said, "...I'm going to have this stuck in my head for days. Who thinks of stuff like this?"
The skaters all seemed to think it was perfect, throwing themselves across the ice with gusto as they each took their turns going across in smaller groups.
Oppa Gangnam style!
Gangnam style...op...op, op, op...oppa Gangnam style!
.
Yuri and his younger Russian counterpart were finally at the airport. Due to it being winter, the sun had set already despite it still being early, making it feel way later than it actually was.
"That's the last of it." The older skater said, watching as porters came to haul off the ridiculous amount of luggage, "I think Viktor brought everything he owns..." He grimaced, recalling all the clothing he'd had to fold and put away after dismantling everything just to find what he needed to help him sleep.
"How much of it is yours?"
"Uhh...two suitcases? Plus a small one for souvenirs."
"There were like...sixteen. Plus a bunch of smaller bags."
"Right?" Yuri agreed, "He's pretty high maintenance... You know that jar of fancy lip balm he carries around? $40!"
"Well, I already knew that much." The blonde said, following his older counterpart into the airport, "He's never been on such an extensive trip before though, as far as I'm aware. You guys have just been hopping from one event to the next without much of a break in between, save the weekend where neither of you had to go to Rostelecom. The RSF is still kinda bristling over how the ISU didn't send Viktor home during his big come-back."
"Yeah..." Yuri nodded, moving through the automatic doors, "At least these last few plane rides haven't been too bad. Going from Hasetsu to Calgary was the worst. Going from Calgary to Bordeaux..." His words trailed, suddenly remembering how that was their La Premiere flight, and everything that entailed.
"I still think you guys should've let me come." Yurio interjected, "I bet it was a lot nicer than flying coach."
The older skater's face was red, but he tried to shake it off, giving the teen a knowing look, "Oh it was fun, but you would've hated it."
"Why? Each ticket was worth several grand. You guys probably had staff waiting on you hand and foot."
Yuri couldn't stop himself from chortling a bit of a laugh, and shook his head at the memory of it all.
"What?"
"Viktor and I had a go at them." He admitted, "We were pretty loud overnight...and then the next morning we were super inappropriate, just to see what would happen."
The teen just deadpanned him, "...You guys are gross."
"What?" Yuri was still laughing, even having to bring his hand up to rub the tears from under his glasses, "We thought it was hysterical. Turned out, too, that the lady who was kind of our minder the whole time...she was a fan of ours. She even had us sign her copy of our wedding picture book at the end."
"The way you guys are always referring to yourselves as my 'SkateDads' on Instagram. I swear, hearing about you guys having sex is like hearing about my real parents having sex, or even worse..." The blonde lowered his head, "...The old man and Okukawa."
Yuri snorted at that, unable to contain himself anymore. He brought his scarf up in a desperate attempt to at least not draw attention to himself, though under it all, he was dying.
"Yeah yeah, rub it in. Like salt in a wound."
"Well..." The older skater was trying to regain himself, but was still huffing a few laughs as they approached the ticket kiosk, "Mikhail and Minako-sensei are in a better age-range to be like surrogate parents than Viktor and I. Even I get a weird tingle down my spine to think about it. Minako-sensei's older than my mom, and Mikhail's older than that."
"They're a bunch of old farts."
"We'll all get there one day." Yuri said, finally getting his calm back, and picking up the tickets as they printed below the kiosk. He looked around the terminal for where to go, and started moving off in that direction, "This flight has one layover, but it's not that long, and we won't really have to take a train between cities like when Viktor and I went to Japanese Nationals. New Chitose airport is basically on the outskirts of Sapporo."
"Do you guys make a habit of flying in the middle of the night or something? Flying out at 1:30am and arriving before dawn..."
The older figure waved at the blonde weakly, "It's my fault we do it this way." He explained, "I'm jetlagged no matter what we do, so Viktor figures if we leave late and arrive early, I'll get some sleep on the plane, and then finish in the hotel before afternoon, instead of sleeping right through everything like I did in Barcelona. I missed out on a bunch of fun stuff because of it." He pointed a finger into the teen's face rather dramatically then, "You don't want to know what it was like to have two mostly-naked men who were cold and wet come jump all over me while I was still in bed."
"Two?"
"Viktor and Chris."
Yurio just quirked a brow at him, "Mhm."
The older figure just stood upright defensively, "You're judging me right now, aren't you?"
"Severely."
.
Viktor had pulled his knees up under the blanket, resting the half-empty mug in the small space between them and his chest, still keeping one lip on the edge of the cup. He'd gotten to see three different Gala performances by then, but none of them were Yuri.
"You'll probably think the next one is pretty neat." Mikhail explained, "It's that friend of Yura's from Former Little Russia."
"Otabek."
"Yeah that guy." He said, then pointing at the screen, "Here it is."
The crowd started cheering in the background as the Kazakh push off from rink-side, spotlights coming down on him from three different angles. He made a wide arc around the ice, waving as his blades scratched along, until finally taking his place in the middle.
His outfit was entirely black, looking almost like the polar opposite of Viktor's The Ghost ensemble. Ragged and torn, a tattered hood pulled over the teen's head, but with chains across the shoulder and chest, and a black surgical-mask with a grotesquely toothy smile across it covering the lower half of his face. Under the shadow of the hood, Otabek's eyes were painted dark, giving his face a sunken, skull-like look to it.
['The Vengeful One' - Disturbed]
The audience got quiet, and the music began. It was quiet at first, soon joined by drums, then one, and then two guitars, and finally the bass. With each heavy beat, the skater would crack his toe-pick down, clap, or dip slightly as he slid and spun along the ice. The audience got into it fairly quickly, clapping along with the drums.
As I survey the chaos, taking in the lack of raw humanity
Otabek brought his hand up like a visor over his eyes.
It's as if the entire world's fallen in love with their insanity
Skates still clacked down on the ice to each heavy beat, the skater twisting around as he moved past the short end of the rink. He made a gesture like he was confused at the crowd, then raised a hand to his ear as he twizzled in a diagonal line.
Hear the innocent voices scream
He stopped abruptly, one toe-pick digging down into the frost, bending down and holding his head like the sound was painful to hear.
As their tormentors laugh through all of it
No forgiveness for all I've seen
He pointed all around him, letting each person hidden in the darkness know that they were on notice.
A degradation I cannot forget
Another spotlight suddenly shot down onto the ice, hitting the rink wall in the middle of the short-side nearest the skater. Sitting on said rink wall was a certain blonde, black blades accenting the dark, nearly-black crimson of the rest of the outfit. A long cape clung to his shoulders, dark red on the inside, with long, almost hair-like spines coming off the shoulders. His skin was painted mottled white, eyes darkened like Otabek's, long blonde hair left loose around his face. A hidden band held up a pair of twisted horns on top of his head.
"Oh!" Viktor sat upright when he finally recognized the figure, "It's Yurio!"
So sleep soundly in your beds tonight
The teen looked up slowly when the lights shone down on him, and he kicked off the wall, skating eerily forward, raising his right hand up slowly as he went, then twisting around to point at the older skater.
Judgment falls upon you at first light
I'm the hand of God
Otabek rose again to his full height, and the two moved off in unison, each making bold declarations with their arms as the lyrics spoke the words.
I'm the dark Messiah
I'm the Vengeful One
(Look inside and see what you're becoming)
In the blackest moments of a dying world
They each paused, standing about 20ft from each other, turning their heads sharply and pointing at one another.
What have you become?
(Look inside and see what you're becoming)
Abruptly, they turned their backs on one another and pushed off towards opposite ends of the rink. As the voice overhead faded out for the moment, Yurio threw the cape off the same way Otabek tossed the tooth-mask, and each of them went into a flying camel spin, spreading their arms out as they spun before breaking off again.
As the violence surges
And the teeming masses have been terrorized
The Kazakh spun across the ice on his knees, coming to rest right in front of Yurio. The younger teen put a finger under the man's chin, forcing him to look up, and glaring down in return with disdain, looking all the more imposing with the horns still sprouting from his head.
Their human predators... all gone mad
The older figure seemed to fall to the ice dramatically when Yurio feigned a strike, and moved around him like a hungry wolf in a wide inside spread-eagle.
Are reaping profits born from their demise
Otabek 'struggled' to get back to his feet, digging in a toe-pick and casting his dark eyes on the 'demon' moving around him.
The rabid media plays their role
Stoking the flames of war to no surprise
Yurio moved off quickly then, speeding backwards along the rink edge as Otabek started moving towards the opposite side.
Only too eager to sell their souls
They each moved back towards center, pivoting through a mohawk-turn to change directions at the corners of the arena.
For the apocalypse must be televised
Moving closer, they kicked out their left legs, and pushed off into a side-by-side triple Salchow, turning past each other in mid-air before landing again and moving in reverse away from each other.
"Hm, that looks familiar." Viktor mused.
So sleep soundly in your beds tonight
"Where from?"
"Yuri and I did a move like that in Duetto."
Judgment falls upon you at first light
They descended into an arching hydroblade, forming one half of a figure-8 opposite each other before coming back towards center again and rising to their normal height.
I'm the hand of God
I'm the dark Messiah
I'm the Vengeful One
(Look inside and see what you're becoming)
Meeting back in center, they smacked their right hands together in passing; Otabek suddenly stopped even as the blonde kept sliding in a circle around him, each swinging their hands back again the other way, this time catching at the forearm. Yurio kept moving, lifting one skate up as he started to tilt back into the Death Spiral.
In the blackest moments of a dying world
What have you become?
(Look inside and see what you're becoming)
Otabek hoisted him back up again, 'throwing' him into a forward slide. The teen twisted around and went in reverse, holding his free leg high as his older counterpart started following after him.
The lyrics faded out again, and an intense drum-sequence took their place. The skaters met back up along the long end of the rink, swiftly moving down in sequence with each other, vaulting into a quad Toe-loop at the end and landing in time with the other.
When you die
You'll know why
For you cannot be saved
With all the world enslaved
The blonde reached out one hand, then the other, each wrist crossed over the other and held firmly by the Kazakh before the younger skater was suddenly thrust out low to the ice. With the momentum, Yurio partly came up into the air, and Otabek quickly moved under, vaulting the teen onto his right shoulder and lifting him up as he rotated.
When you die
You'll know why
Parked on the skater's shoulder and back, Yurio was like a Demon King, waving his arm out at the audience accusingly before being spun back down to his own blades.
When you die
You'll know why
"Wow~!" Viktor mused, "I wonder where he learned that one?"
For you could not be saved
This world is too depraved
Mikhail shrugged, "I don't even know where he had time to. This is quite the elaborate performance, given how he wasn't even expecting to be there."
When you die
You'll know why
"Hah, maybe he was?" The younger Russian laughed, "Could be why he was freaking out so bad about wanting to be there."
The two skaters had moved to skating in tandem again, each having hopped as they grabbed the blade of their left skate, and moving across the ice in a long twizzle.
I'm the hand of God
I'm the dark Messiah
They broke out of the sequence, switched feet, and started spinning in another long twizzle in the opposite direction, hands clasped behind their backs.
I'm the Vengeful One
(Look inside and see what you're becoming)
In the blackest moments of a dying world
Finding the short rink-wall ahead of them, they broke away swiftly in opposite ways, each coming back down the long end of the wall to converge in center again.
What have you become?
(Look inside and see what you're becoming)
Otabek reached again for Yurio's forearm, grabbing for the left side to yank him forward and then ahead of himself. The blonde twisted and spun around to face him, skating backwards then, only to be pulled forward and suddenly thrust up over the Kazakh's back again, twisting until his low back was hinged over the older teen's shoulder. He threw his arms out to the side and held as stiffly as he could, staying straight while the older skater spun and continued moving along the ice beneath him.
I'm the hand of God
I'm the dark Messiah
I'm the Vengeful One
(Look inside and see what you're becoming)
Yurio tilted himself up and let the darker-clad figure maneuver him down, keeping his back to the man's chest as his legs were held for another series of spins before he was turned head-over-heels and up again, and then finally allowed to set his own blades to the ice once more.
In the blackest moments of a dying world
He wasn't allowed to go far though, each keeping a hand on one another's wrists tightly. The teen was yanked back again; Otabek's hands went to his waist, hoisted him up and threw him into a triple twist, letting the teen out ahead of him with nary a wobble on the landing.
What have you become?
(Look inside and see what you're becoming)
They each leapt into a Butterfly Kick, spun twice more, and then dug their toe-picks in for the finish, standing back to back.
(Look inside and see what you're becoming)
The music cut out, and for a second, all the two skaters could hear was the sound of their own drags for breath. The crowd wasn't far behind, clapping and screaming enthusiastically, letting the skaters relax again and bow in their exits.
"That was Otabek Altin of Kazakhstan, this event's Men's Singles Silver Medalist, skating with his friend and Silver Medalist from Skate Canada and Trophée de France, last year's Grand Prix Final Gold Medalist, Russia's Yuri Plisetsky." Morooka explained over the television, "We're all expecting great things from those two teens. Seems they've been somewhat influenced by Skater Yuri's newly-returned rink-mate, Viktor Nikiforov, who did a surprise pair-skate with his spouse at Trophée de France last weekend. These guys are always out to surprise us. I can't wait to see what's in store next weekend, and at the Grand Prix Final after that."
"It's certainly shaping up to be as exciting a season as we were all hoping for." Oda agreed, watching as the two finally made their way off the ice, "And shortly, we'll have that self-same spouse of Viktor's that you just mentioned, performing his own Exhibition; the Cup of China Men's Singles Gold Medalist...Yuri Nikiforov. But first...this commercial break."