CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED ONE
The hollow echo of the audience's cheering reverberated off the empty halls below the stadium. The next skater's music started soon after, bringing the feel of the event around in a complete 180 compared to Phichit's music.
Footsteps and the wheels of the rolling suitcase sounded quietly as the pair moved back towards the prep area.
Yuri felt his nerves creeping up again as he realized where his partner was going, "...You're not mad that Phichit-kun scored higher, are you?"
The Russian blinked and turned his head, "What, you think I'm going to talk down to him about it?"
"Well...you're not in the best mood right now..." The younger skater admitted anxiously, "And Phichit-kun gets ahead of himself sometimes. Remember last year when he won Cup of China, and thought that meant he was going to be in the Final already, even though it was only one event? Celestino had to remind him so he wouldn't be disappointed if he didn't make it after all."
"I know."
Yuri gave a worried look, but said no more, turning his head forward to watch where he was walking. When they rounded the last corner and passed through the last short hall before getting to the athletes-only area, Yuri could already hear the sound of a gaggle of reporters interviewing his friend. Instead of just barging in and interrupting though, Yuri could feel his partner holding back, staying behind the edge of the hall and waiting. He glanced back for a moment, seeing the slightly disappointed look on the man's face, "We can just go if you want."
"...I'll do my SP again after everyone leaves." The silver figure said quietly, keeping his eyes forward, "I'll do it how it should've been done."
"I don't know if they'll let us use the rink like that..."
"Then we'll find some other rink that will. This can't be the only one in Sapporo." Viktor shrugged, "I refuse to take off this outfit until I've performed at my normal level."
"You need to be in the right frame of mind for that though..." Yuri tried to point out, "You might not be that way again until we're done with NHK entirely...best let it go for now."
The Russian stood stoically, pulling the straps of his carry-bag a little higher on his shoulder where he felt it starting to slip, "I didn't think you were starting to doubt me, too."
"I'm not!" The younger skater said frantically, taken aback, "I just meant that I understood why you're out of it right now! I'm out of it! And I know that won't change until that man gets on a plane again... I'm just...trying my best to keep it together while he's here..."
Viktor turned his eyes slightly, but sighed and reached his arm over to pull the man close, hooking it around the back of his neck and shoulder, "...Sorry. I know this is hard for you. I just want to make it up to you in the only way I can think of right now." He let go of the rolling suitcase and brought that arm around his partner as well, "'History Maker' was the show you picked...it's personal, it means a lot to me...and I messed it up. Watching Phichit's show and listening to that song...I guess I just realized that I didn't want my father to see this part of us. I should've just told him to wait until tomorrow before showing up here. My Free Skate is the only thing I really care about him seeing."
"So let Mikhail send him back to Russia after that. He doesn't need to stay all weekend." Yuri answered stiffly, hands barely coming up to cling to the front of the black and red team-jacket.
The silver skater stayed quietly where he was. The last thing he wanted was to make his partner even more anxious with the intent of having the bear stay for the Exhibition as well. That could wait. For the moment, he lifted his head up again, kissed his husband's forehead, and let him go, turning towards the media gaggle that had finally concluded the interview and were waiting for the next skater.
Celestino was the first to notice the Russian coming, and Phichit lifted his head a moment later, the excitement of the interview fading as quickly as the blood drained from his face. Not even seeing Yuri dissuaded the young skater from dreading the worst.
A few journalists had turned back and saw it, and a few were starting to roll cameras again to get the footage.
"I...I'm sorry...!" Phichit said in a shaky voice, "I didn't mean what I said in the kiss and cry!"
Viktor just looked on quietly, the disappointed look on his face looking like anger in the eyes of the nervous Thai figure. However, the Russian shook his head, and extended his hand, "Nothing you said was wrong, per se. You did score higher than I did. To scold you for putting on a better show would be poor sportsmanship on my part. I may aim for gold, but it's not like my name is written on it. I'm not entitled to anything that I don't earn first."
Yuri watched in silence as the whole thing unfolded in front of him, and he nudged his head towards his partner when Phichit glanced his way, like he was seeking some assurance that Viktor wouldn't just take his hand and use it to pull him forward into a gut-check. Phichit had personally witnessed the Russian kicking his own team-mate off the end of a bed, so anything was possible.
The Thai skater swallowed nervously, but then finally took the offered hand...felt the solid shake, then the release...and that was it.
"Good job." Viktor said simply, "Keep it up tomorrow. Maybe you'll win gold after all; then you can get Ciao Ciao to proudly wear the hamster hat."
The coach just grimaced, like the prospect of looking so ridiculous was a serious threat.
Phichit's eyes finally lit up again, and the happy-go-lucky skater found his smile and excitement again, "Thanks! I plan on it!"
.
.
.
"...Are you sure...?" Viktor asked again, a bit despondent.
"Shitureshimasu, Nikiforov-san...if we give you too much access outside of normal practice, people will think we're giving you an unfair advantage." One of the event coordinators explained, helping open the gates for the zamboni to get through as the audience was clearing out for the night, "You'll have to wait until tomorrow morning like the rest."
The Russian sighed, but nodded, turning back to where his husband was waiting a few feet away, "We'll have to find another rink. Hopefully one will be open late."
Yuri quietly accepted it and reached for his partner's hand, stepping back into the underbelly of the stadium to get to the rear exit of the building and find a shuttle back to the hotel. It wasn't long before they spotted Yurio leaning against the last door-frame, seemingly waiting for them.
"How come you're still here?" Viktor wondered, feeling a little prickly at the sight of the blonde.
"Didn't you see me in the audience?"
"...Of course I did." The Russian grumbled, "Where is my father right now?"
"Who knows?" The teen shrugged, pushing off the door to stand normally, "He ditched about an hour ago."
"So he left after I went out." Viktor said stiffly, drawing in a sharp breath.
"You sound disappointed. I figured you'd be glad to know he left. Give you some peace of mind." Yurio rose a brow at him.
Yuri shook his head, "Better to know where Konstantin is than not."
"He said he was going to take a walk. Probably likes the cold outside better than the noise inside."
"Why are you talking to him anyway?" Viktor asked with cold, accusing eyes, "You make it sound like he's friendly."
"Friendly?" The teen laughed out loud once, "He's not friendly. I don't even really understand why he agreed to be here. This whole thing is like nails on a chalkboard to him."
The older Russian let go of the rolling suitcase again to pinch the bridge of his nose, "I don't know. Uncle Mimi said he'd been working on it for a while. Only he would know."
"After everything I've seen, I don't, actually." The aforementioned figure answered, getting the group to turn around suddenly to watch him coming, "When I suggested it, I was only half-sure he'd even consider it."
"Then why bother?" Viktor asked grudgingly, "And why are you still here?"
"Custody agreement says we get Yura tonight, doesn't it?" Mikhail shrugged, stopping a few paces away from the group to keep a distance between them, "We're here to pick him up. The shuttles don't go to the Leopalace, and they're not for us spectators anyway even if they did. Yura will need a ride back, so I'm here to tell him his chariot awaits."
Yuri glanced from the older Russian to Minako standing next to him, quietly wondering if she felt as conflicted as he did.
"Fine then." Viktor glowered, "He's here, you're there...go about your business." He turned and started moving off again to get away.
"Viktor," The elder sighed, "I know this is turning into a giant cluster and I am really sorry…"
"Save it." The skater turned his head as he started pushing through the doors, "Just try not to make it worse."
"Yakov told me to send him home." Mikhail pointed out, trying to get his nephew's attention before he was gone, barely managing to get Viktor to stop with a hand still on the door, but not looking back in, "I told him we should've asked you first." He went on, stepping quickly to get closer, "He made me send the message, but I don't even know if Kon's gotten it yet. He never called me back and I never got to talk to him when he was in the audience. Yura wasn't answering his phone the whole time either, so I couldn't even pass a message through him before Kon took off. Whatever you want to have happen here, I can still make sure it happens."
Viktor finally turned his head back, "You're right. You should've asked me first. Everyone should've asked me first. But you didn't." He pushed the door back open and stared through, "You acted like you were getting my permission by suggesting this whole crazy thing was up to me, but you put it to me when I wasn't mentally in a good place and didn't have the fight left in me to say what I really thought. So here we are, trying to make the best of the worst possible situation."
"I didn't realize how badly the trip to the steel mill would hurt you!" Mikhail insisted, pressing his hand to the door-frame, "I worked there myself for a few years and it's not that bad! Most of the guys who still worked there knew who you were and had nothing but good things to say! I still don't get why you had a panic attack about being there!"
"He had a panic attack…?" Yuri and Minako said in tandem.
Viktor pushed away again, walking out across the wide sidewalk behind the stadium, dragging his suitcase with him. One of the wheels caught a rock, stopping it from turning easily, and forcing the irritated skater to drag it along.
Yuri tried chasing after him, squeezing past Mikhail and Yurio before getting free and running. He glanced behind himself briefly to see the rest slowly filing out as well, and then turned back to-THUD.
The Russian had stopped walking for some reason, leaving himself as an unexpected obstacle. Yuri had collided straight into him, arms flailing out to the side, face against the man's back. He clung to the taller skater as quickly as he could to stop from sliding back and falling, but...still ended up on his arse in the snow despite his best efforts. He didn't even have a chance to regain his bearings before he heard footsteps rushing up from behind, and then past him, seeing a black and silver blur kicking up snow as it went by.
[Now's not the time!] He heard Mikhail hollering in Russian.
Yuri lifted one hand from the snow to put his glasses back in place, and looked around his partner's legs to spot the older man reaching his pale white hands out towards a dark shape against the black of the arena courtyard.
Snow was falling lightly all around, just as it had been most of the day. A few lights dotted the arena road-way, casting most of the sidewalk in very low light. The U-turned stairwell was illuminated by a pair of big spot-lights on the upper level, pointing in towards the second floor of the arena. From the side of the stairs, and lining the edge of the road, was a 5-foot retaining wall, with a snow-covered field going far out beyond it. Trees dotted the distance, set up in a long row to edge the main road leading out again. All told, with the frost over everything, it was a peaceful scene...except for the 7ft tall Russian bear leaning on the retaining wall near the base of the stairs.
[Come on, I'll show you where the car is and we can leave…!] Mikhail was still saying, practically pleading for the man to go.
[Why are you so freaked out? I'm just standing here, waiting quietly.] Konstantin raised a brow under the brim of his hat.
[Yura said you left an hour ago! We didn't expect you to be hanging around!] The smaller Russian argued, [And why did you never answer my message anyway!? I sent it ages back!]
[The phone you gave me is all in English.] The bear answered, [I think it was asking for a password.]
[You could've called me back! You knew the message was from me! Mine's the only name in your contact list!]
Yurio rolled his eyes at the pair, following after Minako to help Yuri back up to his feet again. Viktor was just paralyzed where he stood, the rolling suitcase finally falling from his grip to land with a clatter against the frozen concrete.
[What did you even say? Couldn't have been that important since you never tried to call again, especially since we saw each other in the audience.] Konstantin shrugged.
Mikhail cringed a little, casting his eyes back towards Viktor for a moment before looking at the giant again, [...Viktor's coach wants to send you home. He made me call you to arrange it.]
The silver skater finally snapped out of his stupor, clenching his eyes shut as he shook his head, [I already said no.]
Konstantin seemed to find the whole thing funny, [Send me back? I just got here. What would've been the point?]
[See?] Viktor argued, taking dangerous steps forward, leaving the relative safety of the arena's main lights, [He gets it.] He gestured a hand towards his father, glaring at his uncle as he did so, [If he's not here for the whole weekend then this whole stupid mess would've been for nothing. He has to stay. For the whole thing.]
[Much as I don't want to.] The bear shrugged, [This place is queer.]
[Fine. Then you stay. But somebody else better make sure Yakov knows then, cuz he won't believe it from me.] Mikhail said between grit teeth, turning around to go towards the nearby parking lot, [Let's get out of here before my ears freeze.]
[You think I waited around this weird place just so you could drive me back to the hotel?] Konstantin wondered, crossing a leg where he leaned against the short wall, [Or are you really just that eager to go?]
The back and forth was nerve-wracking the listen to, especially to the two Asians present who didn't understand a word of what was being said. Yuri turned to his Russian counterpart and gave a look like he expected some insight.
The teen shrugged, "They're just getting their shit straight about Viktor's pops staying."
"He's not my 'pops.'" Viktor argued, turning back around to glare at the blonde, "That's a title you earn and he hasn't."
Mikhail stood upright rather stiffly, practically bristling under his long coat, [Well fine then, what did you stay for?]
[You people dragged me all the way here to watch Viktor skate. Don't you want to know what I thought?]
The aforementioned skater felt a pit in his stomach, [I wasn't at my best earlier. Telling me it sucked won't be that shocking.]
[Yeah, if you're not going to say anything positive then don't bother.] Mikhail agreed, twisting on his heel so he'd be side-face towards the huge figure, [You've never been good at constructive criticism.]
[How about you let me speak to my son for once without sticking your nose in it?] Konstantin countered, tilting his head a little with a slight forward lean, [I swear, I should never have agreed to show you to the Skate Club. I knew you'd just get into everything again like you used to.]
[What's that supposed to mean?] The smaller figure retorted, marching right back along the same path he'd just made, [Well!?]
Viktor took an annoyed step back, watching the bear and the wolverine going at each other, though the larger of the two seemed hardly phased.
[It means exactly what it means. You don't know how to be a part of things without somehow making yourself the center of attention.] Kon explained, still looking relatively relaxed given how tense his smaller counterpart was becoming, [You hated that Tat drifted away from you, so you fought tooth and nail to stay relevant there. When I put a stop to your terrorism, you plagued us all with your narcissistic victimhood instead. Maybe everyone else thought it was better, but for me? You always got worse.]
Mikhail just looked stunned and confused, [What are you talking about?]
"Hm." Yurio huffed, "It's about to get ugly, I think."
"What are they saying?" Yuri asked, standing a bit closer to whisper. Minako did the same thing on the teen's opposite shoulder.
"Give it a minute. I've said stuff too soon before." He answered, "I think Kon's throwing Mikhail under a bus though."
"Eh?" The duo said in tandem.
[I always took a back seat in everything that happened, because everyone always got so damn scared if I so much as blinked in annoyance at something.] The bear went on, still leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, one ankle crossed over the other, [I let what you did go on for so long that I let you become an absolute nightmare to everyone. Back then, I thought, 'that's fine, he's only coming after me with this shit'...but then Tatiyana started feeling bad about it and that's why I'd finally had enough. You were an emotionally manipulative little cunt. That's most of why we decided to move away when we were trying to start our family.]
[That's hardly fair to say. At all.]
[She'd tell you the same thing if she was here.] The bear countered, [In fact, if she hadn't insisted so much on moving back home, we'd probably have never gone back. But she missed her big brother and didn't want to be gone anymore. So like I always did back then, I let her have her way, and we moved back. Do you even know how convinced she was that we were only able to have Viktor because she was close to you again? How many times we tried and failed while we were gone, only to succeed that one time when we moved back?]
[You can't blame me for the weird shit Tat believed.]
The silver skater was starting to feel like a weird third wheel, and backed up another few steps until he was closer to the other group. Just as Yuri went to pick up the rolling suitcase from where it had started getting covered in falling snow, Viktor seized up again, his hand barely an inch away from the grip on the telescoping handle.
[Where do you think you're going?] Both older Russians asked, staring straight at him.
Viktor looked back over his shoulder, swiping the handle to his suitcase as he went, his free hand on his partner's back in a gesture to start moving, [We're going. We have nothing to gain from listening to you two old ladies fighting with each other about stuff that happened 30 years ago.]
[You fell apart on the ice today because you knew I was there watching.] Konstantin pointed out, giving his son that same icy stare he always did, [I know you've done better because this little shit made me watch your show from France the other day.] He thumbed at Mikhail, who in-turn gave him a side-eyed sneer, [That little shit...] He pointed at Yurio, [...bragged about how high you'd scored before, so today was absolutely pathetic by comparison. I get it. Having me around makes you mad. That's why your show tomorrow is supposed to be so much better, right? Because you're pissed right now, and your other skating show is all about why you're pissed.]
The silver figure simply held his ground, not sure whether to stay or run for it.
Konstantin finally pushed off the wall, standing squarely, staring straight at him, [Because I never wanted you to skate in the first place, and then I hit you for it when that old man coach came to try and justify why I should let you.]
Yakov and Mila were quietly coming out of the arena just as the words were spoken, pausing just outside the doorway as they realized what was going on.
Viktor got an angry look on his face to hear it, [You think that's the only reason? Because you made my life a nightmare and then beat me for it? What a big strong man you were, punching a 12-year-old in the face so hard that I went flying into a shoe-stand and hurt my back, too. No. How about because you hit me in the face again? And again! And then kicked me a few times for good measure, on my mother's own freshly-dug grave, and then poured vodka on my head so the cuts would burn?] He turned completely away from the rest of the group, looking even more irate than before, taking one step forward and pointing at the bear, [How about because what you did put a strain on my relationship? Forcing me to lie to my friends and fans about what happened so they wouldn't have to worry about me!] His eyes and throat were burning already, but he refused to let it stop him, [How about because what you did gave me nightmares for almost TWO YEARS after I finally got away!? My left eye STILL twitches when I have to think about you! You think I messed up today just because you were in the audience this time!? No! I had a blackout and spent most of my program trying to fight off the memory of the MONSTER you are! Making you watch my Free Skate tomorrow is the only way I can really blow off steam about how angry you've made me this last year!]
Cold slate eyes just kept watching, listening.
[I spent NEARLY A YEAR trying to convince the man I loved to love me back, and it took you ONE WEEKEND TO RUIN EVERYTHING.] Anger was quickly turning to rage, and Viktor could no longer contain the tears burning in his eyes, [Every day since Yakov sent me that text, your shadow has been hovering over me. EVERY DAY. You say that the only reason you even bothered reaching out to tell me my mom had died was because that's what she would've wanted, and you were obligated to give me that damn care package she'd put together. MAYBE YOU SHOULD'VE JUST KEPT HATING ME ENOUGH TO STAY AWAY. YOU SAY SHE'S DEAD AND NOTHING MATTERS ANYMORE, SO TO YOU, SHE'D NEVER KNOW THAT YOU DIDN'T FOLLOW THROUGH. YOU COULD'VE JUST LEFT WELL ENOUGH ALONE.]
Yuri had his hands over his mouth, fear and pain rising up inside him to watch, even in spite of not knowing what was being said. His legs were paralyzed, stuck to the ground like nails were driven through the soles of his shoes.
The bear just kept looking, [If it were that easy, I would've.]
[Huh...?] Viktor was caught off guard, [What's are you talking about?]
[The care packages your mother put together weren't individual. They were all linked to each other. The one she gave to your Uncle, the one she gave to you...the one she gave to me, too...they all referenced each other. She wanted to make sure that if anything ever happened, both of you would come back, and that you'd each know that was true. Why are you so stupid about this? How don't you know? Didn't you read the damn thing?]
The silver Russian blinked in confusion, his whole body feeling weak where he stood. The memory of what he saw during his blackout flashed before his eyes.
[Heee burrrned the skaaates...but yoouuu buuuurned meeeeee...]
Smoke and embers fell from his mother's mouth just like before, and Viktor suddenly realized what it meant.
[...I didn't read it...] He admitted quietly.
[What?]
[I read the first two lines...and then I burned the rest.] The silver skater went on, lowering his head, [The letter, the photos, the envelope they came in...all of it. I burned it all.]
Both Konstantin and Mikhail were stunned to hear it. The bear turned to his in-law, [How many pages did you get?]
[Three.]
[Same.] He turned back to the skater, [You're telling me...] He took a huge step forward, [That you read two lines out of a three page letter...] Another step...people were starting to get nervous, [...AND YOU BURNED IT ALL WITHOUT READING THE REST?]
Viktor kept his head down, almost too scared to move, even as he heard the big man coming closer, [...I didn't want to know what she said...]
[THOSE WERE THE LAST WORDS SHE WOULD'VE EVER SAID TO YOU.]
[Konstantin!] Yakov finally called out, rushing forward in a desperate bit to stop him from getting closer.
Confusion, yelling, feet scratching across snow-crusted concrete...and then everything went quiet. It felt like time stood still. No one was willing to move. People stared with eyes wide open, mouths gaping, some with hands out, others looking like they were about to run interception, only to stop in their tracks.
Konstantin's hand was two inches away from Viktor's chest. Viktor himself had his arms up, trying to protect his face and head, only to feel nothing. When the eerie stillness crept in, the Russian opened one eye at a time, and glanced past his trembling wrists to see his hulking father looming over him, but with a stunned and confused look on his face.
Yuri was there between them. Somehow, he'd gained his feet again and had leapt out in front of him, latching both arms firmly around the bear's massive wrist, clinging to it with every fiber of strength in his body. The move had knocked his glasses off his face, and they lay cracked in the snow, one blue arm bent and nearly broken where someone had stepped on them unknowingly.
"...Don't touch him..." He growled quietly, tears in his eyes, a look of fear and anger on his face.
The big man tried to move, but Yuri yanked hard to make sure he didn't.
"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM." He barked again, louder and more commanding, "NEVER AGAIN."
Slate eyes were wide open, staring past the dark brim of that small hat, stunned at the gesture, [What do you think you're doing, boy?] He asked grimly, moving his arm more easily this time, dragging Yuri's feet across the snow before hoisting him up entirely off the ground.
"Yuri!" Viktor called out, completely stunned. He jumped in rather quickly after that, latching one arm around his partner's waist as the other tried to push his father's arm away.
Konstantin tried to shake the skater off, but Yuri refused to let go.
Even feeling his spouse's arm on him didn't help; he was practically rabid, completely unwilling to unclench his grip unless he was sure the arm wouldn't just recoil and try again.
Mikhail tried to move in to help as well, but the second he came around the bear's side, Viktor spotted him and snarled, "Don't even try!"
"But-"
Mila went around quickly and dragged the man away, grabbing him from behind and pinning his arm behind his head so he couldn't wiggle free.
Slate eyes turned back to the behemoth, [IF YOU WANT HIM TO LET GO THEN STOP MOVING.]
The bear rolled his eyes and head a little, but relented, holding still, feeling as Viktor did what he could to gentle the young skater's vice-grip and finally peel him off. Yuri breathed heavily, tears flowing down his cheeks in anger and frustration, backing up against his husband's chest to make sure he'd always be between them, and kept those adrenaline-fueled hazel eyes on the man in front of him.
Mila finally let Mikhail go when she saw Minako coming over to collect him, grabbing his tie and wrapping it around her wrist tightly. He sulked nervously and watched in silence.
[I wasn't even going to touch you.] Konstantin said between grit teeth, dusting some snow off his arms before putting his hands back into his coat pockets.
[You said that once before and nearly broke my arm anyway.] Viktor pointed out, feeling Yuri pushing him back several paces, arms reaching back around him as well as they could to keep him there, [Even if you really hadn't meant to, you can't blame us for believing otherwise.]
[I was pointing at you.] The big Russian defended bitterly, pulling off his hat only long enough to shake the snow off and put it back, [But it doesn't matter. You're not sorry for what you did, so why should I be for what you thought I was going to do?]
[You've never been sorry for anything you ever did.] Viktor contested, [Maybe if you apologized for ONE THIN-]
[I'm sorry for hitting you the first time.] He said suddenly, cutting the skater off entirely, [I've asked God to forgive me for a lot of things in my life, but never that. I never thought it was worthy of it.]
The silver figure was stunned back into silence, eye twitching madly behind his bangs, almost to the point of cramping. He found his mooring again when he put his hands on his partner's shoulders; Yuri was still dug-in like a fortified Roman Legion, [Only that?]
[I prayed after we spoke in the graveyard the last time.] Konstantin went on, [I've found absolution for the things I did before that happened.]
[Not from me.] Viktor said darkly, reaching his right arm over his partner's shoulder to gently pat his chest, "Let's go. We're done here."
Yuri blinked, pulled out of his train of thought by the feeling of his husband moving away from him, a hand sliding down his arm to grab at his fingers and pull him along. He shook his head, but followed, glancing back only briefly to see the hulking shadow watching them go without protest.
The silver Russian reached down for the rolling suitcase that had ended up in the snow again, and looked silently at the group for a moment...and moved off without a word.