(Author's Note: Well, here we are...the big 200. I'm officially 100 chapters further on than I ever meant to be XD You did this. Thank you all.)

CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED

With the break between groups, media outlets covering the event were seeking out athletes and coaches in full force. By the time Viktor had returned to the main prep area, Yuri had already been dragged kicking and screaming into one of the more 'official' interview spots, bombarded on all sides with flashes, cameras, and questions about the Russian's lackluster performance. The young skater was too dazzled by the bright lights to see beyond the press, and they, in turn, were too focused on him to see behind themselves, so as Viktor came sauntering up, he went entirely unnoticed. He just stood and listened for a little while.

"Do you think this is spelling out the end of his career?" One of the journalists asked.

Yuri just gave the man a look, "Why would you say something like that? He had a rough day. We all have highs and lows. He almost reset the World Record for the SP in Bordeaux two weeks ago and now you think he's finished? Give him a little more credit than that. He's the only skater who's done a quad Axel in competition, and if he hadn't taken time off last year, I'm sure his other records would still be unbroken."

"So is he sick then? Is he hurt?"

"No! He's fine!" Yuri insisted, waving his hands around defensively, "He's still in first place right now and I'm sure he's got a contingency plan for tomorrow's Free Skate. He'll be the last person to settle for anything less than Gold if he can help it, even with what happened today. The score he got is still very good, even if it's not his own personal average."

"Do you think he did it on purpose then?" Someone else asked, making Yuri turn his head to face her, "Scoring low on purpose to make people worry?"

"I don't think so. He wouldn't do that." The not-a-coach answered nervously, "He told me at Nationals that fans would get upset if he deliberately reduced the difficulty level of his programs, so he wouldn't even if he wanted to."

"Then maybe he did it because of how you yourself scored at Cup of China?"

"That's crazy." Yuri argued, "What happened to me is completely different. If Viktor wanted to score low just to make me feel better, he'd have gone lower than what I got. Going to 88 when I was below 75 would be an empty gesture. This is Viktor's own personal battle and we'll fight through it together like we have been. Expect tomorrow to be a different event entirely."

"Does it have anything to do with the big Russian man that came in with Viktor's Uncle?" Someone else asked again, "Who is he? How do you know him?"

Yuri could feel the blood draining from his face, and his teeth clenched to hear the words.

I don't know what to say! Viktor, where are you!?

"He's just a friend of my Uncle's." The Russian finally said, loud enough to get the group's attention.

They were initially unsure who had spoken, looking back over their shoulders like someone was trying to interrupt, but upon seeing the man's silver-haired head, quickly turned around, all but abandoning Yuri behind them, "Viktor! Tell us you have a moment to speak about your Short Program!"

Yuri was still stunned, feeling like a prayer had just been answered, but shook his head as the attention fell away from him.

How long was he standing there before he said anything?

"There's nothing else to say about it." Viktor explained, "Yuri already said everything that I would've said myself."

"If he's a friend of your Uncle's then why is Yuri Plisetsky the only one around him now? Your Uncle seems to be avoiding him."

Viktor shrugged, smiling brightly as ever, "I wouldn't know. I've been focused on the Short Program. No time for the rest."

"But Vikto-"

"Thank you everyone; see you tomorrow at the Free Skate." He said, cutting them off outright and turning to move around them. They were still asking questions, but too many were speaking at once to hear any particular one in total. Viktor just got to the edge of the small pack and raised his arm for his partner, waiting only long enough for Yuri to slip under it before stepping off again.

The younger skater turned his head to see whether the press mob was following, but thankfully, they seemed to have politely taken the hint and were off to find the next hapless athlete to question. He drew in a breath, and sharply let it go in relief, drawing in a little closer to his husband as they kept walking, "Can I ask who called?"

"Sure." Viktor mused.

Yuri blinked at him, but quickly realized it wasn't a bad conversation, so a slight weight fell off his shoulders, "Chris?"

"The one and only." The Russian answered, spotting his former coach with the Russian team's gear not far away, "He thought I needed a proper scolding since Yakov didn't in the kiss and cry."

"...He really scolded you...?" The younger figure was a bit incredulous at the idea, thinking it impossible. He watched Viktor stopping where he stepped though, and twisted on his blade-guards to face him, pulling his outside shoulder gently to turn him inward as well. Hazel eyes looked up in confusion, but the Russian's expression gave nothing away that Viktor didn't mean to. A pale hand went through his hair a few times, ruffling the black spikes, before both hands moved down to straighten out his coat and scarf, pressing palms down against his chest once the man was satisfied, "...Viktor...?"

"Wait for me."

"Hah?"

The Russian touched his fingers up again, lightly sliding them down his partner's jaw until they came to rest on his chin. Those slate blue eyes, half lidded as they were, looked down on him without blinking, "When this is all over, I'll need you. But until then, be patient...and wait for me."

Yuri shook his head, the déjà vu feeling rather severe, but he nodded just like the last time those words were spoken to him...and just like then, Viktor turned and started walking away, saying something to Yakov that he couldn't hear anymore. He watched quietly, as though from behind one-way glass, as his husband gathered up his things and pulled his skates off one by one, slipping his track-suit pants on over his Short Program outfit, and replaced the matching sneakers over his feet. When it was done, Viktor grabbed his carry bag and rolling suitcase like always, and stood up to look back at his former coach, "I'll meet you outside about half an hour before the Free Skate tomorrow, okay?"

"That's fine. Just call when you want me and I'll come find you." Yakov answered, rising up to take his leave as well. He reached a hand out and pat the skater's shoulder, "Don't dwell on the Short Program too much, Vitya."

"...Are you leaving already?"

"Leaving? No, Mila's still watching the Men's event. I was just going to go find her." The coach said simply, turning on his heel, "Are you?"

Viktor shook his head, "Yuri's friend is in Group 2."

"Oh yeah, the Thai skater."

The silver Russian nodded.

"You'll make a strong come-back tomorrow, don't worry. As long as you don't break your ankles skating it, anyway."

"Try not to jinx me." Viktor huffed a nervous laugh, turning around as well to go back towards his partner, "That'd be even worse than what happened already."

.

.

.

"The score for Julian Madrano...82.32."

The audience clapped and cheered for the youngest skater of the Men's Singles, and he himself was practically bouncing off the walls of the kiss and cry. Waiting in the wings though was the skater now most likely to walk away from the Short Program in 1st place.

Phichit stretched his arms nervously, but as he spotted the other skater leaving the score booth, he reached up to pull his team jacket off. Beneath, a golden, shimmering ensemble that the Thai skater had evolved since the previous year. A tight pale-gold jacket with delicate embroidery, with two gold bands crossing over his chest, and two pointed gold bangles around his mid-upper arms. The sleeves from the bangles down were striped in the same colors as the embroidery of the rest of the jacket; some a pale orange, then black, then amber gold, and back again. There was a 3/4ths skirt around his hips, which went down to his knees and was open in the front, overlaying baggy, golden-colored pants. He wore a thick sash under the skirt, tied in a knot in front, which went nearly down to his ankles. Over that was an elaborately designed, broad-faced, multi-tiered buckle, each section slightly smaller than the one above it, ending in a point just below his knees. His skates were covered in similar colors to the pants, each with their own delicate embroidery and gem inlays, leaving the entire ensemble shimmering and sparkling like Thai royalty.

"Next on the ice tonight...representing Thailand...Phichit Chulanont."

He clicked one blade onto the frost and pushed forward, raising his arms to the cheering of the audience, breathing in their energy like it was its own life-force. His eyes brightened when he spotted Yuri in the audience, wearing the hamster-hat he'd given the man on his arrival. He twisted where he was gliding, and came to a dramatic stop, bowing in the older skater's direction before finally turning off to meet Celestino at rink-side for one final pep-talk.

Yuri drew in a breath and let himself relax a bit, leaning against his partner's arm where they'd been relegated to a small section of the stands above rink-side. There was only a small buffer between them and the audience itself, so Yuri put himself between them and the quiet silver Russian sitting against the aisle, gear bags behind his feet and leaning against the seat on the closest step.

Without an arm-rest between the seats, there weren't any places to rest their elbows on, so when the younger skater noticed his partner's attention slipping, he quietly nudged the man's knee with his own. Barely getting a blink in response, Yuri lifted that leg instead and curled it right over top of that knee, bringing the hand they'd held between them on top and set it against his thigh, gently rubbing the man's thumb with his own.

"You haven't said a word since we came out here." He pointed out.

"Haven't had much to say." The silver genius answered back, uncurling his fingers and laying his palm flat against his partner's leg, giving it a light squeeze, more for Yuri's sake than his own, "This isn't the right place for it anyway."

"Something on your mind other than the obvious?"

Viktor huffed a little, as though the idea were funny but he couldn't quite manage to laugh at the absurdity of it, "...Other than the obvious." He echoed, eyes scanning the stands a little before going back out to where Phichit was giving a final nod to Celestino, kicking off towards the middle of the rink, "My score was on the upper end of average. Normally, I watch other skaters doing their thing and I imagine myself doing their shows, at my level, with my own choreography...now, I can only imagine myself out there skating exactly the same way they do, as though their programs were mine, and the scores that went with them."

"It was a one-off, I'm sure of it." Yuri offered, "Being critical of today's SP is pointless. It'd be like criticizing a fish for not being able to climb trees. Tomorrow will be different." He let himself scan the audience as well, focusing on the complete opposite side of the rink from where they were sitting, just to the right of the camera-crane, but didn't see the big black shadow where he'd been before, "Konstantin isn't even here anymore. He must've left after you finished." He continued, this time quieter than before, leaning in a bit to say the words against the man's ear.

"I know."

"Then why are you still so anxious?"

"Because I don't know where he is now." Viktor answered critically, tilting his head to rest it against the edge of his partner's shoulder.

Yuri could see the logic in that, but it pained him to know what it meant. The big Russian Bear had suddenly become something of a boogeyman, gone from all sights until the worst possible moment, waiting to pounce when their guard was down.

Or maybe he just went back to the Leopalace. There's nothing else for him to see tonight. Maybe we won't even see him again until the Free Skate. We can only hope...unless no one has told Mikhail to forget what Yakov said...

Phichit had taken his place in center, skates about 2ft apart from one another, head bowed down. The audience finally quieted their cheering, and a somber piano began overhead.

['King' - Lauren Aquilina - It's a 4min song so edits will par it down to ~2:40]

Blades scratched quietly as the skater turned where he stood, pushing away to widen the arc around the NHK logo embedded in the ice.

You're alone, you're on your own. So, what...have you gone blind?

He moved his arms slowly, methodically, twisting around as he moved about the ice in a big figure-eight.

Have you forgotten what you have,

Blades scratched into a 3-turn, and he vaulted into a triple Flip.

...and what is yours?

Viktor lifted his head when he saw it, gaining a curious side-eye from the man next to him.

Phichit moved into the first spin, flying entry into a camel-spin, left hand over his chest as the other rose over top of himself.

Glass half empty, glass half full, well either way you won't be going thirsty

He lowered down into a pancake-spin, holding the skate over his knee while both arms went out to the side.

Count your blessings not your flaws.

Rising up again, he kicked his free leg out, extending one arm out in front of himself as he glided backwards in a wide arc. He picked up speed around the long-end of the rink, twisting into an outside spread-eagle and threw himself up for the triple Axel.

You've got it all, you lost your mind in the sound
There's so much more, you can reclaim your crown

The crowd clapped with the success of another jump. Viktor could already see that the skater was going to out-score him by a wide margin. The moment felt eerily similar to the previous year's Grand Prix Final, when he was watching from the audience as Yurio was skating Agape. I knew back then that he was going to take the record from me. He thought, sighing a little as he slouched back in his chair, But that only stung because I didn't know I'd be coming back yet so I could claim it again. I hated thinking he could just rewrite history the very year I took off. This though... Slate eyes watched as Phichit moved around the rink, It burns.

Serpentine step sequence followed a wide hydroblade; the skater rose up into a sitting triple-twizzle, then rose up all the way to standing before moving off again with his arms out.

You're in control
Rid of the monsters inside your head

Phichit slowed as he neared the center of the rink, resting his hands under his cheek as he rotated in an inside spread-Eagle.

Put all your faults to bed

He stopped the rotation with a toe-pick against the ice, and raised his head up high, looking noble and proud. The first half of the program was done...now going into the second. Phichit knew he needed to up the ante.

You can be king again.

Yuri glanced over to where he noticed Viktor was watching more intently than before. The man lifted his head off his shoulder to see the performance, lips slightly parted, eyes laser-focused. He quietly wondered what about Phichit's program had caught the Russian's attention so strongly, and turned his own eyes back out to the ice.

You don't get what all this is about

Triple Lutz, half Loop, triple Salchow.

You're too wrapped up in your self-doubt

Phichit scratched to a stop with a flurry of ice shards flying away from the edge of his blade, one hand on his hip as the other rose up in front of himself. Unintentionally, he did so with the hand pointing towards Viktor and Yuri.

You've got that young blood,

He clenched his outstretch hand into a light fist, bringing it back down in front of his face as he started to rotate backward again, pivoting on the skate beneath him. Both hands came up together after that, fingers extending as his arms went far out to the side, bowing his head down as he went.

... set it free.

Viktor was taken aback by the gesture, knowing intuitively it wasn't actually meant for him, but feeling some odd connection to it anyway.

You've got it all, you lost your mind in the sound

Phichit swiveled and turned, moving back towards the far end of the rink in a serpentine path.

There's so much more
You can reclaim your crown

He twizzled into a half-spin, then arced himself back, one skate way behind him as he slid across the ice in a layback Ina Bauer.

You're in control,

Falling in line against the long-edge of the rink, the skater twisted into a four-star series, each kick-out falling on the sound of the main four words of the lyrics.

Rid of the monsters inside your head

Butterfly jump into a back-sit-spin.

Put all your faults to bed

He rose up, changing feet as he went, and flew into a swift back-scratch-spin, arms gliding up gracefully until he was nothing but a blur on the ice.

You can be king again

He stopped abruptly with his arms out to the side again, but didn't miss a beat as the lyrics started up once more.

You've got it all

Paying too much attention to the lyrics, Viktor lost sight of the performance that accompanied it. All he could think of was how he'd completely dropped the ball in his own Short Program, and how he felt he'd sabotaged his own efforts to prove himself by letting that pot of slow-boiling guilt overflow without his notice.

You lost your mind in the sound, there's so much more

Yuri felt the second hand come over, fingers wrapping around his forearm.

You can reclaim your crown

Viktor had somehow twisted enough in his own seat that he was practically sitting on his hip, shoulder pressed against the tiny gap between back-rests. The Russian even brought his free leg around, setting it on top of his partner's and crossing his ankles there to 'hold' it in place.

You're in control

The younger figure's brow furrowed, worrying all the more about his husband's state of mind. ...I have to convince him that this thing with his father watching isn't worth it... He can't even enjoy other skating shows anymore. He's superimposing himself on lesser athletes or he's reading too much into what the songs are saying. He reached his own free hand over and settled it on where Viktor was clamping down on his arm, trying to gentle its grasp.

Rid of the monsters inside your head

The final move of the program; CCSp4. Phichit started with the standard entry camel spin, angling in a forward rotation, arms out for the added difficulty. Several spins in, he turned on his hips, shoulders more horizontal for the bent-leg layover camel spin.

Put all your faults to bed

He twisted back around and thrust himself onto the other foot with a hop, continuing the spin as he reached back for the blade of his skate, rotating in the catch-spin position with one arm raised above himself. In the final rotations, he lifted the foot above his head, still holding to the blade with one hand as his leg and torso formed something of a V-shape.

You can be king again.

He let go of the skate, and came to a quick stop on the ice, twisting slightly with the right hand reaching for the left shoulder, and the left arm curled behind his back. He huffed to catch his breath, dizzy from the whole endeavor. The roar of the crowd started to flow in towards him, and in his blurred vision, could see the hamster plush-toys and bouquets of flowers starting to be thrown onto the ice. Viktor always got his plush poodles and Yuri always got plush Nigiri, but it warmed the Thai skater's heart to see people starting to toss out custom toys for him specifically. The hamsters really did it, and tears started flowing from his eyes as he moved forward to grab the one closest to him excitedly...then the second, and the third. His arms were full of soft-toys before he finally started heading back to the rink-wall, stepping out to greet his coach and get over to the kiss and cry. In his mirth, he shoved two of the toys against Celestino's chest and hopped towards the bench, trying to put on his blade-guards at the same time.

"Calm down, the judges still need a minute to figure out your score." The pony-tailed coach pointed out, looking at each of the plushies in confusion, "...Do you really want to keep all these?"

"YES. ABSOLUTELY YES. ALL OF THEM." Phichit said emphatically, "EVERY SINGLE ONE." He waved out at the event staffers who were skating around collecting other toys and flowers to clear the ice for the next skater, "DON'T TAKE THEM AWAY, I WANT THOSE."

They just glanced back at him in confusion.

By the time the duo were on the bench and ready, there were 24 hamster soft-toys in the kiss and cry with them. Phichit clutched to 5 of them alone, squishing them tighter as the seconds wore on.

"The score for Phichit Chulanont..."

"Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-"

"...92.54. He is currently in first place."

"YES!" The young skater cheered; all 5 plushies flying into the air as he jumped up and threw them in excitement, "I can't believe it! I scored higher than Viktor! I'm in first place!"

"...Don't get too cocky. You didn't score higher than Viktor. He scored lower than you. Once." Celestino pointed out, "Be ready for tomorrow because he's not going to go easy on you."

The Russian in question simply untangled himself from his husband and grabbed his things, nudging his head for Yuri to follow, and they descended back into the 'off limits' part of the arena.