CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINETY SEVEN
Translating for the bear had become something of a chore after the Flag Dancers had returned to rink-side. Yurio groaned in boredom at the whole thing, [I can barely understand that lady's English to begin with, never mind the Japanese.] He complained, [But long story short, this same kind of thing is said at every single event, so it's just a representative of the host country thanking the ISU and everyone involved for being here.] He propped his feet up against the railing in front of their seats and slouched back against his own, [The only thing people really care about is hearing that the next program is going to start.]
[And you have to sit through this shit every time?] Konstantin looked around the arena, trying to imagine the rink was surrounded by a thousand quiet skinny trees, rather than people. His eyes tracked back to the rows of seats just in front of himself and the Russian Kitten, spotting a certain not-really-a-coach trying to sneak off around the edge of the rink.
[Yeah. For some reason, the ISU doesn't put a lot of effort into the opening ceremonies of these qualifying events.] The teen explained, lacing his fingers together over his chest lazily, closing his eyes like he was going to take a nap until something more interesting happened, [If you saw the theatrics before Worlds or even Russian Nationals, it would seem like the event of the century by comparison. By the time you've seen these GP Events enough times, every OC looks the same, just in different colors. I normally skip them outright, or I stay in the prep area if it's my event. I'll only stick my head out if I'm actually part of the ceremony, like at Worlds last year.]
[Mh.]
The droning of the ISU representative finally started to come to a close a few minutes later. Konstantin had kept his eyes turned towards the well-hidden curtain that guarded the way into the waiting area under the stands, seeing it move periodically like someone was trying to peek through. He turned back again when the audience clapped politely suddenly, the JSF representative bowing towards the camera, "It is now my great pleasure," She started up again, her broken English sounding a little better by then, "...to conclude these Opening Ceremonies with a few words from one of the ISU's longest-running consecutive gold medalists, ranging from these very Grand Prix events, to the Final, European Championships, and even the World Championships...Viktor Nikiforov-san!"
The audience completely went wild for it. The fact of being done with the pleasantries was already something to be excited about, but unexpectedly getting to hear that the silver legend was coming out to do something other than skate was rather exciting in itself. The Russian skater seemed to come out from behind the curtain a bit frantic, but that melted away the second he glided out on those gold-plated blades. The rumblings of a chant for Viktor's name began at the back of the audience, but Viktor himself quickly snuffed it out by addressing them all, rounding back towards rink-side to grab a wireless microphone being held out for him.
"Konichiwaaaa~!" He called out, waving excitedly at the gathered crowd, "O-genki desu kaaaa~?"
[What's he saying?] The bear wondered.
['Good afternoon, are you well?' You know, basic crap.] Yurio answered, looking on at his former rink-mate with one opened eye. He closed it again when the cheering fans called back their answers happily, and went back to clapping again
"Sou ka, sou ka! Keikaku doori~!" Viktor laughed, facing the stands opposite his father, "I think that's about the limits of my Japanese right now..." The crane-mounted camera was in the corner between the coaches' stands and the exit curtain, which forced him to at least slightly face the man, still doing his best to put on that show, winking at the lens rising up ahead of himself, "Gomen ne?"
There was a microsecond where Konstantin caught his son's gaze, but that was gone almost as quickly as it had happened. Instead, movement along the blue wall gathered up the giant's attention again, and he spotted a redhead and 'the wimpy Asian kid Viktor keeps around as a pet' coming back to rink-side. They barely made it back to where Yuri had been sitting before when Viktor called the audience's attention to the young not-a-coach.
Hearing the crowd screaming, and then chanting Yuri's name was awkward, but not so much as the question that came with it, [Do you hate him?]
Slate eyes blinked down to the side, glowering down on the tiny blonde teen sitting next to him...albeit a few seats over for the girth of his own arms. Yurio was thumbing at the Japanese skater. The bear looked back up again and watched indifferently as Yuri waved nervously, trying to look small and insignificant, [I have no opinion of him whatsoever.]
[What about in relation to Viktor?]
Konstantin drew in a careful breath, but then shrugged, [My son gave our family name to him, without my blessing and effectively in spite of it. For that, I resent and reject him.] He answered simply, quietly, looking back at the Russian skater on the ice after that, [As for being the object of Viktor's misguided lust...I'm disgusted by him. He's small, weak, and skittish. No wonder he has to beg for affection from other men...what woman would want what he has to offer? Pathetic.]
Yurio half-sneered at the man with those vivid green eyes, but grit his teeth to stop himself from responding, then turned back to where Viktor was approaching rink-side. He could practically feel the energy around their seats change as the Russian skater started acting fondly towards his partner, especially since they were so close, [I don't get why you have such a wild thorny hair up your ass about it.] He didn't need to see the bear's expression to know the man was glowering at him dubiously, but he went on anyway, [The world isn't going to end because of what they're doing.]
[It goes against the laws of nature.]
[And that impacts you how, exactly?] The teen posed, finally turning his head up to glare right back at the man, [Their private life literally has nothing to do with you. Being so angry about them being together is like being mad at the guy in front of you at the grocery store for being able to buy donuts when you're on a diet. It doesn't make any sense. Your diet isn't that other guy's problem.] He turned back to watch Yuri getting carried off in a sudden hurry, almost like Viktor was grabbing his husband and running, [You're actually just like Yuri in that regard. Being mad on other peoples' behalf. Holding onto all these negative emotions when the people you're pissed at aren't even angry themselves.]
[They're living in sin. They're in open rebellion against God.]
[Blah blah blah...] The teen pulled both hands up and made the motions like his hands were mouths, opening and closing them several times before stuffing them into his jacket pockets, [He who is without sin should cast the first stone. It still doesn't matter. Let God sort them out.]
[We are commanded to put them to death for their crimes against God.] Konstantin pointed out bitterly, closing his eyes to avoid gawking at the unnatural spectacle taking place on the ice.
Yurio rolled his eyes, then turned to prod a finger against the massive arm just next to him, [Yeah, and how many times have you worked on the Sabbath? Are you wearing any mixed fabrics today? Do you eat pork or shellfish? You'll never be able to live up to the standards set out by the Faith. By standing up for one edict, you're failing another. Suggesting Viktor and Yuri die for being together goes against the idea that you should love your neighbors and not judge each other. Why did you have to settle on the shittiest of the possible options? Why can't you just be happy for them?]
Yuri had finally started speaking into the mic by then, his voice echoing off the rafters.
[Why are you defending them?] Konstantin growled impatiently, half-tempted to plug his ears until the 'show' was finally over, [You said their sins disgust you as well.]
[That's not what I said. At all.] Yurio rolled his eyes and tilted his head away, then looked back again, [I said that I'm not into guys, so complimenting Viktor on being a 'hot piece of ass,' as his fans would say, isn't something I would admit easily. Because him and Yuri pretend to be my SkateDads all the time, too, talking about either of them that way would be like saying those things about my actual parents. It's just fucking weird. Shit, those two dumbasses go out of their way to be super affectionate around me sometimes just to make me squirm and have a laugh about it.] He explained tersely, casting his eyes back out onto the ice, [It'd be absolutely no different if it was Viktor and that French ex-girlfriend of his, or any other person. Being around a couple can be obnoxious in general. I avoid hanging out with Mikhail and Okukawa for the same reasons sometimes.]
Viktor had set Yuri back down onto his own feet, and they were addressing the crane-camera at the corner of the rink.
[You need to learn to chill out. If the Man Upstairs was so offended about what Viktor's doing, then He'd have found a way to break his legs the second he started having the wrong thoughts about another guy. He'd have taken back all the gifts He gave to Viktor that made him Russia's skating hero up until that moment.] The teen said stiffly, going quiet for a moment as the skating duo's little presentation came to an end and the audience started cheering.
The overhead announcer's voice came back on, booming loudly, "The Men's Short Program will begin in 15 minutes. Group 1 may begin their Warm Ups now."
Viktor and Yuri watched as another seven skaters came out from the waiting area, about half of them wearing their nation's runner jackets, the rest just skating around in their SP outfits. The pair seemed to say something to one another before the Russian held his hand out for something, getting Yuri's phone set against his palm a moment later. He clicked open the camera and took a quick selfie of themselves, with the other competitors gliding around in the background, before the blade-wearing skater gathered up his not-a-coach and helped get him quickly to rink-side before someone ran him over. The audience's cheering started to fade out after that.
Yurio took the chance to finish his prior thought, [But nothing has happened. In fact, other than having to deal with you...things for them have been turning out rather well.] The Russian Tiger explained, remembering the moment he'd given that same sort of lecture at the RSF nearly a year ago, and shrugged up his shoulders a little, [So if you really believe there's some spooky, celestial Dear Leader up in the sky, let Him sort us all out. You'll give yourself a heart attack stressing over other peoples' business all the time.]
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Atek Jagus - Poland - 77.24
Bai Zheng - China - 82.16
Leib Banz - Israel - 81.25
Adrien Zweifelhover - Switzerland - 79.24
The 5th and final skater before Viktor's Short Program was still on the ice. Yuri watched his partner's final practice from a bench in the prep area, quietly admiring how many hits the picture Viktor had taken had already gained online. He smiled quietly as some commenters were still posting about overcoming the SP, or making clever quips about the Russian being a 'History Maker' for resetting the World Record in Bordeaux.
"119 is going to be hard to beat, even for you." Yuri said quietly, clicking out of his phone and glancing up where the skater in question had just spun around and thrust his hand forward, right towards him. He blinked quietly at the unexpected gesture coming so close to his face, but he dared not move otherwise, seeing how the silver Russian turned his hand around to put a finger under his chin and smile back.
"I don't aim to." Viktor explained, tapping his thumb against his husband's lip before standing up again and taking it back, going back to his choreography, skate-guards thumping on the concrete floor as he moved, "Just getting over 100 should be fine."
"Saving your energy for the Final?"
"Hai, sono touri." The Russian quipped, smiling back over his shoulder.
Yuri turned his head, spotting some sports media people recording Viktor's practice from a small distance, and commenting about how his show would be starting in a few minutes before moving off again. Hazel eyes turned back towards the skater, "You're not nervous at all...?"
"Nothing is ever written in stone." Viktor answered, lowering his arms from where they'd been dramatically extended, then spinning into another maneuver, "Injuries and mistakes can happen at any time. Never assume you'll ever win anything...and if you're ever not nervous, worry." His skate-guard thunked down lightly, and he seemed to be done for the moment, lifting his head quietly, "The music is gone. Time to go."
Hearing the cheering of the audience, the younger skater nodded and rose to stand, reaching for the Makkachin-plush tissue-box and a water bottle, and squishing the soft-toy under his arm before reaching his free hand for his husband's. Just as they were about to pass through the curtain though, he stopped dead in his tracks, forcing Viktor to pause and look back at him in confusion.
"...Yuri?"
Without a word, the younger skater took his hand back so he could grab hold of the Makkachin plush, and then reached both hands under his partner's arms, wrapping them tightly around the slightly-taller figure's torso, and held there silently.
The Russian blinked down at the top of that spiky black-haired head, but then returned the gesture in kind, both arms going over the man's shoulders.
Yuri stepped a bit closer when he felt it, one sneaker fitting between the gold blades, his small frame pressing in a little tighter.
Don't let go until the last second.
The longer he stayed there, the easier it was to feel how every muscle in the Russian's lean frame was tight and tense. Ever-so-slowly though, they started to relax, and he felt a soft breath escape by his neck as the skater nuzzled in and held him a little closer.
"Let's go to 'Hyosetsu no Mon' tonight." Yuri suggested quietly, "Just the two of us. It's fancy, but it's not a top-10 tourist trap, so the odds of running into anyone else we know are pretty slim. We'll just turn our phones off and go spend a nice night alone. We have the room to ourselves tonight, too."
"The score for Yoshio Yamanaka...81.65."
Viktor lifted his head as he heard it, but then lowered those cool eyes back down to his partner, leaning in to nose him a little, "Perfecto." He closed those eyes as he felt his partner rising up onto his toes, kissing him quickly before they had to part and go through the curtain. Yakov was already out there waiting, looking as grim as ever, one eye perpetually cast to the left, past the camera-crane, to where Konstantin and Yurio were watching and waiting as well.
The audience went wild again at the sight of the skaters, and the competitor waved politely as his 'coach' moved over towards his spot on the rink wall. The poodle-plush and water bottle were set down gently, and Yuri turned to where rink attendants were holding open the gateway to the ice. Viktor pulled off the blade-guards one at a time, handing them off more gently than the last time, and set boots to ice as the announcer's voice boomed overhead again.
"Next to take the ice tonight...representing Russia...Viktor Nikiforov!"
More wild screaming; the banners came out, as did the flags, the signs, and the massive posters that hung over the edge of the long blue wall. It was just as Yuri had described it before. Fans started chanting the skater's name, and Viktor waved his arm happily to greet the excitement again. He dared a glance towards where he knew his father and Yurio were sitting, but his mind's eye wouldn't let him see anything other than a menacing dark cloud there. Black vapors twisted into the air above where the bear sat, making him something of a dark beacon in the stands, so Viktor turned away to go back to the rink-wall.
He shrugged out of his team jacket and handed it over carefully, reaching back towards himself after that to straighten out his outfit, and then flick a strand of hair out of his eye. His fingers didn't come down right away though, nervously touching at where he felt his left eye twitch. The excited, anxious butterflies in his stomach abruptly disappeared as well, as though the flick of skin had scared them away.
Both 'coaches' saw the subtle change, and Yuri reached to grab both of the Russian's hands to pull them down to the rink wall and get the man's attention, "Viktor...?"
The chanting in the crowd changed over to cheering their combined name, but it didn't seem to penetrate the athlete's psyche at all.
"...I stopped being nervous all of a sudden." He answered quietly, turning his left hand so he could thumb his husband's gold band a little for luck, "I don't know if that's good or not."
"Shake it off." Yakov advised, "You've performed under worse conditions before."
"This is a little different than back then..." The skater sighed, "Worrying about him showing up to drag me off the ice kicking and screaming was never half as harrowing as actually seeing him here. I'm still worried he'll just come out here and knock my block off just to stop my embarrassing him."
"He came here to watch you skate. All you have to do is what you always do." The coach went on, "You've had two days to prepare for this, even if only mentally. If that's not enough, say so and I'll ask event security to escort him out. Technically, he shouldn't even be here now anyway."
"...Why not?"
"I told your Uncle to send him home." Yakov answered simply, "So unless he conned me and didn't actually call, I heard him speak the words myself."
"I don't want him to go home." Viktor said defensively, "This will all have been for nothing if he's not here."
"Then try to get out of your head. If Mikhail follows through with what I told him to do, your father will be gone by the Free Skate."
"...Take it back..."
Yuri's brow furrowed to hear it, "Take it back? Wouldn't it be better if he goes?"
The Russian shook his head, "It's not like I really want him here. I need him here." He held tighter to his husband's hands and lowered his head briefly, "This is the closest I'll ever get to showing my mom that what she went through for me wasn't entirely in vain. I need to prove to my father that he was wrong in trying to stop me." He turned those blue eyes back to his former coach, "You have to tell Mimi to take it back."
Yakov grimaced, "...Alright. But only if you can get your head in the game." The older Russian glanced past the rim of his hat, "If you can't get it together and blow your Short Program, or even worse, if you get hurt, I'll send Konstantin back myself in pieces."
"If I get hurt out there it'll be like a fish drowning." The skater countered, "I feel more comfortable on the ice than I do on the ground."
"It's been known to happen from time to time. You're not indestructible." Yakov warned, "Be careful and take it easy out there. This isn't a normal show for you."
"Everyone else has gotten really average scores so far." The younger skater suggested, agreeing in spades, "You could drop all your quads and get a perfect score on all the other elements if you wanted, just to show them all how it's done, like you told me once."
"...Yeah..." Viktor nodded listlessly. He swallowed pensively as his eye and cheek twitched again, and he turned his head to hide it, "I'm off."
Yuri reluctantly let the man's fingers slip from his own, and watched as the silver genius slipped away without another word. No longer able to give his customary well-wishes, the young skater sighed and lifted his own ring to kiss it instead, "...Davai, Viktor..."
"DAVAAAAAI, VIKTOOOOOR!" Yurio cried out from the stands, noting the awkward departure as well. He sighed and slouched back roughly into his seat, getting only the most flimsy of acknowledgements back from the Russian as he raised a hand in his direction, but didn't look. The teen huffed quietly to himself, "That idiot. He better not fuck this up."
[What's wrong? You seem less than enthused suddenly.] The bear wondered grimly, eyes watching the skater sliding across the rink, making wide arcs across the ice as he looked down on it with hands on his thin hips.
Yurio gazed up at him briefly, then looked back at Viktor, quietly making his way towards the NHK logo in the center of the arena, [Never mind. Just watch.]