CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED SEVENTY FOUR
The sound of the audience's cheering was slowly fading into the background, but the outpouring of support in spite of his 6th place finish was enough to make Yuri feel as though he'd come in 1st. Fans were quickly pouring out of the stadium and into the main hallways to catch a glimpse of him while he was doing his post-skate interview. They massed and swelled like high tide, smartphones and cameras up in the air to get as many videos and pictures as they could while he was relatively close by. The flashes of light and cheering were enough to make the hapless young skater think they were really just there for Viktor...but as he looked around, he realized the man wasn't even near to him, so the congregation really was for him.
...Where did he go...?
The Russian was behind the crowd, standing just within the doorway to the Players' Club, watching quietly with some of the other skaters and coaches. The others seemed fairly happy about what had gone down in spite of the risk, but Viktor was more reserved, eyes practically unblinking as he watched, arms crossed where everyone else was still clapping or holding up their signs.
"Vitya."
Those eyes turned at the sound of the older man's voice, and Viktor caught sight of his own former coach not too far within the lounge. The elder nudged his head towards the interior and then turned away, expecting the skater-coach to follow. Viktor turned his head to glance over at his media-surrounded husband, but then twisted on a heel and gave wordless, slow chase.
Chris and Phichit had watched him go, stepping off to give him a path, and turned their curious gazed after him. They glanced back at one another then and shrugged unknowingly.
Yakov hadn't stopped walking until he was standing in the doorway that lead back out to the arena, tilting his head up a bit to watch the other half of the audience starting to vacate the stands. He held there, motionless, until he could see the shadow of his former superstar coming up next to him, and then both of them stood alone in the mouth of that doorway.
[Thanks for sitting in with me earlier.] Viktor said, keeping to Russian so the conversation could be somewhat private, [In the kiss and cry, I mean.]
[I'm surprised you're not out there meeting the press with your Yuri.] The coach answered, looking high up above the ice to the 4-sided big-screen that was showing replays of all the highlights of the Men's event, [You look utterly morose.]
[Do I?] The silver Russian wondered, pocketing his hands and leaning a shoulder against the closest wall.
[Last year, you could hardly stand to be in the background of his shots. You'd always jump in excitedly like you thought you'd be ignored if you didn't. Now...] Yakov tilted a bit to look at the skater, [You just look exhausted. He did the quad Lutz again.]
Viktor reached one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, [Yeah...] He rubbed his face a bit with that same hand before looking out at the dwindling audience again, [Is it always going to be like this...? Where you're furious that your student did something you told them not to, but you're happy enough that they did it and pulled it off, sort of, that you can't express the anger?]
[Anger and pride mix together, and in the end, you just feel frustrated.] Yakov said simply, [It's not an easy situation to reconcile, but you learn to deal with it.]
[How did you do it?]
[I took on more students. Each different one comes with their own strengths and weaknesses, so when you're full to the top on problems caused by one, you go to the next and let yourself recover a bit while dealing with something entirely different.] The elder answered, [Not that I'd recommend you do it. You look like you can barely handle the one as it is.]
[Heh...that's exactly why I said no to Yurio.] He flicked at his hair a bit with one finger, but then returned that hand to its pocket, [My wonder now makes me worry for tomorrow. He's going to be the very first person on the ice, and that means I have less than 24 hours to figure out what to do.] Viktor looked up and around the stadium idly, [After Rostelecom last year...Yuri said he wanted to dedicate all the time he had left before the Final to work on quads. He asked me...wouldn't it be great if he landed a quad Flip with a +3 GOE? But then he touched his hand on the ice doing it in his Short Program, and overall scored significantly less than he did in Moscow or Beijing before that. It ate him up for months. He watched replays of his performance over and over, trying to find every little thing he did wrong to lose points like he had... I mean, he was still happy with his Silver back then, but he missed the Gold by such a tiny margin...and he blames his flubbed quad Flip for it. That single-point automatic deduction for falling just killed him. And now...I'm telling him not to do any quads at all...] The silver legend glanced back over his shoulder, as though worried Yuri would turn up and know what was being said, but then turned back, casting those slate eyes on his former coach, [He knows I'm not trying to sabotage his chances, but I still feel like I am.]
[You are sabotaging him though.] Yakov pointed out, [That's just the nature of it. The way the sport is now, if you don't do quads, you might as well not skate. So much more emphasis is placed on technical skill now that it leaves more artistic skaters in the dust. You were barely 20 when the old system was replaced with the one we have now...but I'm sure even you remember what it was like to skate for it.]
[Well, I did score perfect 6.0s that one time.] Viktor huffed, [I used to joke that they got rid of the system specifically because I'd hit the limit and the ISU was freaking out about it.]
The older man's glassy-eyed thousand-yard-stare seemed to reflect his recollection as well, [You were insufferable.]
The silver skater just laughed, [Yakov~ You look like you were just having war flash-backs.]
[I practically was.]
[Hmm...] Viktor smiled, eyes looking out across the ice then, [St. Petersburg must be so dull without me there.]
[Yuri has done his best to fill the void, but once he's gone, too...and with Georgi retiring...it'll basically just be Mila left.]
The younger figure had nothing to say to follow that, simply lowering his gaze as though he'd felt personally responsible for the situation. His attention was grabbed soon after by the sound of familiar voices behind him, and he looked up just far enough to catch the sight of his extended family turning up with Yurio. They'd caught Yuri as he was trying to get back into the Players' Club; he'd found himself surrounded on all sides by people he had no hope of escaping, and every one of them was laying on yet another layer of congratulations, or scolding, as the case may be.
Yakov had noticed them all as well and was looking back, leaning against the wall as he shook his head, [Pretty soon, minus Christophe, it's just going to be those 4 young kids out on the ice competing against each other. A whole new generation of skaters is going to have to play catch-up if they ever want to be in the same league. Most of them are still very young...teens, barely 20s...but they're already scoring as high as the older veterans.] He looked back at his former student, [Considering what you've done for your Yuri, I'd be curious what Yuratchka would be capable of if you'd been his coach for Seniors instead of me. It's always easier for athletes to go farther, faster, when their mentors are already Champions, and still young enough to lead by example.]
Viktor held still for a moment, watching them quietly, but then nodded solemnly, [I've wondered that myself, even for myself. How much further I could've gone if I hadn't started so late. Or...how far someone could go if I could give all of my knowledge and experience to someone barely on the verge of learning to walk.]
[If you ever got your paws on a toddler with the drive and interest in competition that you did when I found you...] The elder Russian huffed, [...That's a dread beast I dare not think of.]
[Well...] The skater huffed a sigh to himself and pushed off the wall to stand normally, [Given that it's just Yuri and I, I doubt that'll ever happen.]
[Neither you nor Yuri can skate forever, Vitya.] The gruff older coach said, stepping forward to set a hand on the man's shoulder, [If you ever get a handle on how to be a coach, maybe you'll consider doing so for a living later on. For now though...it seems you still have plenty to work on.]
[All told, most of my shortcomings stem from the fact that I'm married to my student. I doubt that'll be a problem again.] Viktor offered, trying to find some sad humor in it all.
Yakov just shook his head, [We'll see.] He pat that shoulder again and started moving away.
[Wh-...What's that supposed to mean?] The younger figure was stunned, [Yakov...!]
Those steely blue eyes just turned back to look over one more time, [You thanked me earlier for sitting in with you in the kiss and cry, even though I had no reason for it since I'm not your coach anymore, and you hadn't asked me to like you did at NHK. You also told me this morning that you were getting anxious because of all these big changes that will be happening. In the last month, you've barely gotten to the point where you half-way trust your Uncle, but I can tell you still hold something of a grudge against him, which I understand. So while all these things are happening to you, stripping you of whatever control you thought you had before, any agency over your own life, you recoil into yourself and focus only on the things you think you can control. Now, I've known you for most of your life, Vitya. You think that just because I'm not officially your coach anymore, that I don't know what you're doing or how you think?]
[...I...] The silver Russian stammered in confusion, [I didn't...]
[I'm bulldozing my way in to help hold you up, while you build walls again. You may be building them around Yuri as well as yourself this time, but they're still walls, trying to keep everyone else out.] Yakov turned fully around again, though he kept his arms at his sides, [Refusing to be Yuratchka's coach, resenting your Uncle for wanting to move to Hasetsu, even for being involved with that ballerina, saying you'll withdraw from the Final if you decide to pull Yuri out of it... Maybe it's just because you're exhausted, like you said earlier, but I'm worried you're just getting ready to repeat history.]
Viktor just blinked at him in stunned confusion.
[When I took you away from home, you rebuilt your entire life around figure skating. You had no friends. You saw your teammates as people you had to tolerate, and never counted on anyone but yourself for anything. That's why you found it so easy to drop everything and go to Japan. You had nothing to lose by leaving St. Petersburg. You're trying to rebuild your entire life around Yuri now though. How long before this cycle begins anew?]
[I never planned on anything I did to be cyclical in the first place. I'm sad you think this is just a phase I'm going through.]
[This isn't the first time I've seen you drop everything to do something crazy.]
Viktor could see Yuri trying to get his attention over Yakov's shoulder, waving as though begging for salvation from the family mob.
[You did it for that French girl, you did it for Katsuki, and you did it again with your father last weekend. All these impulsive things you've done to try to fill the holes inside yourself, barely thinking of the long-term consequences of your choices because you're too overwhelmed by the here and now. The only constant you've had for the last 20 years, Vitya, has been me. All these long years, I've tried to teach you patience, and get you to think about what will happen in the future based on what you do now. Most of the time though, you only ever applied that to your skating. You never wanted to think about what comes after. You're slowly starting to open your eyes to it though, given how close you are to that ledge...but you're still scared to really examine the horizon.]
[...I don't really understand what you're trying to say with all this.]
[Stop focusing on a single, tiny part of your life, while the rest surrounds you, and pushes you around. If what you really want is a life with Katsuki that will last until the end of your days, then he can't be the only thing you focus on. He's a person, not a sport, and people have families, friends, and interests that go beyond just you.] Yakov explained, giving the skater a moment to catch up, [He has more practice than you do at managing other people in his life, whereas you've spent all your time trying to make it so you're the only person in your own. Learn from him. And learn how to put your foot down on things that matter. I'm not going to be there in Hasetsu to be your backbone while everything else happens around you. I've seen you stand your ground before...I know you can do it.]
[...I'm not even sure what I need to stand my ground for. I can't just tell other people what to do.] Viktor crossed his arms, again distracted by the sight of his partner trying to get his attention, but unsure what to do to help him in that moment.
[I know of at least 3 things that are bothering the everliving Hell out of you right now.] The older figure said, holding up a hand, and the last three fingers on it, [The situation with Yuri being mad at you and Katsuki over the coaching thing.] He lowered the middle finger, [Your Uncle saying he plans to move himself and his whole clan to Hasetsu, your opinion be damned.] He lowered the ring finger, [And lastly...managing Katsuki's skating, given his accident.] The small finger came down after that, and Yakov turned the whole hand around, pointing at his former student instead, then stepping up close to poke that finger against the skater's chest, [You can't decide what other people do with their own lives, but you can make certain they know your position, and you do have the power to change things if you want to. The people around you have completely lost sight of your boundaries though, and it's because you let those boundaries become hazy.]
[You were just giving me grief about building walls though.] The younger Russian countered, [I don't know what I'm supposed to do, if not that.]
[You need armor, not walls.] Yakov explained, putting both hands into his jacket pockets then, and turning side-face away from the skater, [And maybe a big stick, too. Otherwise, you might as well save yourself the trouble of building walls and just dig a hole instead. So...what are you going to do now?]
"Gyah! Viktor!" Yuri yelled out, breaking free finally from the mob and rushing at him, arms flying around his core as the younger figure vaulted behind him, "Tell them you're not mad at me for the quad Lutz so they'll leave me alone about it!"
The Russian just blinked down at him in utter confusion, arms up like he wasn't sure what to do with them. When he looked ahead again though, he could see the group of 10 getting closer, like waves crashing around a Yakov-shaped rock.
"You told him 'no quads' and then he does one anyway!"
"He has a raging migraine now! He's saying he might not even go to the after-skate thing!"
"That was the exact move that you got all mad at him for pulling during practice earlier. I'm surprised you didn't go out onto the ice yourself and drag him off when you saw it."
"You're acting more like a choreographer than a coach with this one."
More criticisms from all sides, bombarding the Russian like bricks. He wasn't even sure who was speaking the words anymore. They all morphed into a singular voice, spoken by many. His eyes darted back and forth between everyone ahead of him, but then spotted Yakov again somewhere in the middle of it, stoic and motionless...and Viktor clenched his fists at his sides.
"ENOUGH." He barked.
The bombardment halted...but it felt more like it had just frozen in a moment of time...the next round of bricks still flying his way, but stopped in mid air for the moment. He sucked in a breath, like he hadn't been able to in ages...grabbed at where Yuri's arms were still clinging around his chest, and pulled them free to move the skater out from behind him.
Hazel eyes blinked back at him, a mixture of confusion, dread, fear, and uncertainty, "V-Viktor...?"
The Russian just stared on, but then lowered his head, closed his eyes, and sighed, turning back towards the crowd in front of him. He could see that his earlier bark had gotten the attention of others still in the Players' Club, but he paid them no attention. Instead, with hands still on the skater's shoulders, Viktor made his intensions known, "Yuri is MY student. If you don't like what he's doing out there, then tell ME about it, NOT HIM. I don't need a bunch of nosey busy-bodies coming into the middle of this, muddying the waters so he doesn't know who to take orders from. You all KNOW he has a bad habit of trying to please everyone, so the fewer people are involved telling him what to do, THE BETTER." He gestured a hand at the group of skaters slightly to his right, "You guys are supposed to be his competition, not his minders. Challenge him, make him want to fight for the podium. Just because you think you know better, your place is not to question my coaching methods, unorthodox as they may seem to you." He gestured then to the peanut gallery to his left, "You guys are family, not ISU judges. Support him, cheer for him, congratulate him on a job well done no matter how well or badly he does. Half of you couldn't tell the difference between a Lutz and a Flip on your own anyway, so what makes you experts? Who amongst us has the most experience as a World Champion figure skater, huh?"
The group blinked at him, all side-eyeing one another like they weren't sure what to say.
"Well?"
"...You do..."
"Who took Yuri from an abysmal, last-place, 235-point finish at Sochi to GOLD at last year's World Champions, with a new World Record that probably no one will be able to beat in our lifetimes?"
"...You did..."
"That's right. I did." He lifted a thumb to the center of his chest. Viktor could feel his skin tingling all over, like he'd just been dipped in a vat of menthol, cold and icy but powerful, "So which one of you still thinks you can coach him to Gold now? Which one of you thinks you know better?"
Yuri could feel the blood draining from his face in the empty void of that uncomfortable silence.
The Russian just eyeballed everyone, glancing every one of the people around them in the eyes before moving on to the next, and finally drawing in a breath, speaking more quietly than before, "I know I'm not perfect. I'm stretched pretty thin right now, trying to coach him and be a competitor. I agreed to be Plisetsky's choreographer only because that's easy for me."
The blonde's eyes went wide with surprise, but he stayed silent.
"I refused to be his coach because, right now especially, that's too hard. I can't be effective as all of these things for everyone, all the time. I have to pick who I can help by deciding who I can be the most helpful to, and right now, that means the only person I'm coaching is Yuri. That's not a judgment about anyone else. It's my way of balancing the things I need to do for myself without any one of those things eating up more of my mental resources than I'm willing to give. Maybe that'll change after next season, when I'm retired from competition, but not sooner, so stop holding it against me. I'm tired of being judged for putting myself and Yuri first. And speaking of that..." Those crystal blue eyes went back to the skater's direct relation, a finger pointing at the elder silver Russian to single him out, "You need to back off a little bit. I gave you an inch and you took a thousand miles from me. You've basically done everything that I told you last year not to do."
"Vivi-"
"No..." The silver legend shook his head, "No more. Vivi is the child you left behind. He's gone. I was stupid and naïve to think that we could pick things up again where we left off, but neither of us is the person we were back then. I need you to stop treating the weight of my opinion as though I'm still 5 years old, when I was to be seen but not heard. I'm turning 29 in 2 weeks and I'm going to be heard. You don't just get to decide to move to Hasetsu without talking to anyone else about it first! Just because you and Minako-sensei are engaged doesn't mean the rest of us don't count! Hasetsu is our place. You don't just get to force your way there! Did you even ask her what she thought!?" His hand gestured towards the ballerina, making her hyperaware of herself suddenly.
Mikhail looked on steadily, giving that same steely-eyed gaze that he'd done when the two of them were in Russia and Viktor had been obstinate about sleeping under his father's roof. He just shrugged and shook his head, "No."
"Then maybe she should be the first person you have that conversation with. I may ask you to seek mine and Yuri's approval before you move, but it's her consent that you should probably have first." Viktor explained stiffly, then finally turning towards a certain Russian Tiger that had already been half-blasted since the ambush began, "And one other thing..." He pointed at the teen, "...Yuri Plisetsky."
He swallowed nervously, but the blonde held his ground.
"The people around you are not resources for you to use and discard. You need to learn how to handle rejection better, because it comes in different shades and most of time, it's not meant as an offense against you."
"I know th-"
"STOP TALKING AND LISTEN." Viktor barked again, forcing the Tiger to become a kitten, "I chose to decline being your coach right now because I can't do it. But the magnitude of your resentment and anger over my choice has become a force that everyone had to deal with. This isn't the first time I've had to tell you that I don't like how you treat Yuri when you're pissed off! And this isn't the first time I've resorted to yelling at you over it! But I'm tired of it! You're turning 17 in 3 months, but you're acting like you're still 13! GROW UP. Your shitty attitude and foul mouth were something I could just laugh at and brush off, back when I was still full-time in St. Petersburg, but that's not how it works anymore! Taking shots at Yuri just to try and hurt me, when you're angry at something I said or did, is unacceptable. I'm going to give you one last chance at this, because I know you can be a good person. I saw how much progress you made over the summer with Mikhail's help. Figure out how to be that person again, because I like that person, and I want him around."
Yurio drew in a shaky breath, looking up at those slate eyes before lowering his gaze in shame, nodding, and answering in a whisper, "...Okay..."
The Russian then finally turned his eyes back to his husband, surprising him into taking a nervous step back, "...And finally...Yuri Nikiforov."
Oh I'm in trouble again.
Viktor had his back to the group, and pointed at them without turning, "Stop listening to anything these knuckleheads say about your skating. There's only ONE person you're supposed to be seducing when you're on the ice. This is love, not an orgy."
Yuri's face went from white to red.
"I've failed you miserably as a coach this weekend. I know that. I know that better than anyone. But this situation, with your accident and the head injury...I've had trouble dealing with that as your spouse, never mind as your coach. Fixing this is way more difficult for me right now than it ever was after your Short Programs in Calgary and Shanghai. But I need more than the joke of last night's attempt at sleep, and a nap after, to get my head together. So just...give me a little more time. By morning, I promise, I'll have a better plan...okay?"
Hesitantly, Yuri nodded his head, though keeping his nervous eyes down.
"Are you done now?" Chris asked suddenly, breaking the awkward, tense silence with a stalwart tone.
Viktor seemed to deflate a little bit, "...Yeah I think so..."
"Did you get it all out?"
"...I hope so."
"And you feel better?"
"A little bit."
"Mh..." The blonde took a step forward, coming up behind his silver friend and rubbed his shoulders for a moment, "Then go get all your shit together and let's go. You'll be useless tomorrow if you don't have at least a little fun before the end of the night. It's your one-year anniversary, after all. Can't have you in a bad mood for it."
"It's...my...what?" The Russian echoed, looking sharply back over his shoulder to where Chris was giving him something of a doe-eyed nod. He turned back to Yuri, confused as much as anyone, only to spot the figure holding up his ringed hand.
"...It's...it's been a year since we exchanged these..." The younger skater explained anxiously, "...I...had planned to do something nice for you, but everything got all messed up...because of me..."
Viktor's brain had already shut off by then, and all he could do was give a vacant, disbelieving stare. He blinked once...twice...
...and went face-first to the floor with the sigh of a quiet, incoherent scream on his lips.