CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED NINETY FIVE
Chris practically sulked as he went back into the Players Lounge, despite the fanfare around him for a job well done. He sighed dramatically and waved farewell to his coach before taking a high seat at the bar counter.
"You're only the third person to go out there." Viktor pointed out, leaning against the counter next to where his friend sat, "But you're reacting like you already think you're in last place. 299 isn't bad at all!"
"Including Phichit now, everyone in this room has scored over 300." The blonde pointed out, "I wouldn't feel so bad about coming in last with 299 if I wasn't the only one who didn't hit 300, too."
"There's no guarantee everyone will get over 300 anyway. Otabek's only done it once that I know of."
Chris still pouted, which only served to make the excitable Russian all that much more adamant to cheer him up...at least, until...
"The next competitor on the ice tonight...representing Russia...Yuri...Plisetsky!"
With his darkened eyes and braided blonde hair, the Tiger took to the ice with flare, making a long arc before coming back towards the rink wall where Yakov, Lilia, Yuri, and the two silver teens had been waiting.
Yuri had his eyes up towards the audience when he heard those black blades scratch their way close by, spying those three empty seats where he'd found out Minako and Mari had been watching from. They were waving back at him as Minako swapped her Swiss flag out for the Russian one, though Mari was still looking a bit apprehensive.
Mari-nee-chan doesn't look as excited as she normally does for Yurio... I wonder if I forgot something that happened in the past few days? And why isn't Mikhail back with them...?
The blonde dug in a toe-pick and held his fingers to the rink wall, getting his last bits of advice from his coach and choreographer, though his attention was mostly fixed on his fellow competitor. When it seemed like the mini-pep-talk was over, he nodded graciously towards them, and tip-toed slightly to the side, "Katsudon..."
"Eh?" The older skater turned his head, "Oh...all set?"
"I think so." He nodded, looking over to where Nikki could barely see over the top of the wall, fingers curled over the lip of it while she waited, "I think this is the most people I've ever had see me off from rink-side in my whole life."
Those jade eyes closed as the petite teen smiled, "Then we'll do it more often!" She reached her thin arms up then, like a child seeking for an adult to pick her up, "Hug!"
A bit embarrassed, Yurio moved closer as asked, reaching his hands over the barrier and slipping his head between the upturned arms, feeling those small arms curl around his head and neck.
"Skate the best!" Nikki encouraged, "Protect your Gold!"
He nodded, and the two pulled apart again, with those bright emerald eyes turning briefly towards where Viktoria had a fist up casually. He brought his fingerless-gloved hand up and bumped their knuckles.
"Do good, little bro." The older teen said.
Again, Yurio nodded, and finally turned towards Yuri again, his face getting a bit pinker than it already was when he spotted the smile on the older skater's face.
"Having sisters suits you." Yuri mused, "But Yuu-chan might get jealous."
"Jealous over a bunch of girls half her age?" The teen huffed, trying to blow it off, seeing the pair looking out across the ice and then back at him, getting more excited as the seconds ticked by, "Well, maybe."
"Anyway though, time to fly." Yuri went on, offering his own hug to the Russian Tiger, "I'll stay right here and watch the whole thing this time."
"Tell Mari I'm sorry for how I treated her on the way out here." The teen said suddenly, just before pulling back from the embrace, "She was always a big fan of mine, but I treated her no differently than I did you and Viktor these last few days..."
"Wow...no wonder she's so down." The older skater gaped, turning his eyes back up to his older sister, "I'll text her for you. Now get out there and defend your title!"
"Da." The Russian turned on a toe-pick, about to finally go, but then hesitated, glancing back over a shoulder just as his older friend was fishing out his cell phone, "...A shame that Mikhail's decided he's too good to watch now. Makes me nervous that he's still missing."
"I'll message him, too. Maybe he's just watching from somewhere else." Yuri suggested, tapping away with his thumbs quickly before sending the first text.
"Davai~! Yuri~!" Viktor suddenly called from within the club doorway, waving excitedly where he had Chris in half a headlock with the other arm.
The whole display utterly nuked Otabek's stoic presence, since he'd been standing in the doorway as well...and he just gave a nervous thumbs up as he leaned slightly away from the two huge dorks.
The two rink-side skaters gaped at the sight, but then turned back toward one another, with Yuri nodding, "He's right. Davai."
"Spasibo."
The youngest athlete of the Men's Event finally took off, blades sliding across the ice with ease. The crowd roared with excitement again; even Yuri's Angels were there in force, none too traumatized from the sights of Campus Martius Park to give up their fandom. Yurio just huffed a laugh at them, somewhat impressed by their resilience, and offered them his gratitude with a wave in their direction. Their fever pitch went through the roof after that, jumping up with excitement and hugging one another for the joy of their idol having noticed them.
On the opposite side of the arena, Mari flinched as she felt the buzz in her pocket, and pulled her phone out rather quickly, seeing a few letters from her brother scrawled across the dark faceplate, [Yurio asked me to tell you that he's sorry for how he treated you on the way to Detroit.] When she looked back down at the rink, Yurio gave a slight wave, and Mari suddenly got that spark of excitement back. Her phone went away, and her fan-signs came out, waving them around proudly alongside Minako's flag, "Ahh! Yurio! Davai!"
As the Russian Tiger took his position, crouching down on the left knee with the blade of his right skate pointed out to the side and away from himself, Yuri did as he said he would, and twiddled on his phone a little bit longer, with the intent of finding out where the oldest member of their strange little SkateFamily had gotten off to.
[Mikhail, where are you? Yuri's on the ice already. You're going to miss him.]
The phone jingled in the elder Russian's pocket, but his darkened, red eyes barely blinked in response. They lowered slowly, snow falling off the top of his hat as he moved.
['In The End' - Black Veil Brides (look for the one used in the Assassin's Creed music video, since it has an extended intro)]
Violins burst to life through the rafters, and Yurio slowly lifted his head.
...As war fades into the distant memory of enlightened pigs, and open wounds,
He rose up to his feet, gliding forward glacially, bringing one hand up to his head in a gesture of disgust before waving it out, and bringing it back to make a motion with his thumb across his throat.
The rebels will begin to perish.
He waved his left arm out towards the audience before bringing it in to rake that thumb across his neck as well, but this time pretending to jerk upward as though a noose had been yanked over it.
One by one...they should.
One finger on each hand came up aside the teen's frame, and he threw both out to the side, propelling himself forward to pick up speed.
Feel the fear...of dying young.
Moving more swiftly towards the short end of the rink, the blonde lowered down into a cantilever to arc around it.
Not ignore the chance to scream.
He brought his hands up to his face, displaying the agony of the lyric.
Lie awake at night in terror, admitting, fear will return to glory.
Twisting back upright, he moved back to line up with the center of the rink.
And the story of rebels, who set out to conquer...will finish.
A long glide forward, descending to one knee...rising up at the end...twisting around a full 180 degrees before setting up on the left outside edge, amping up the right leg for the triple Axel...
...In blood.
(BOOM)
In the end, as you fade into the night (Oh whoa oh oh)
Yuri looked down at the phone in his hand, disappointed to see that his message still hadn't been answered to. The little 'Delivered' message was all that he could see. He looked out across the ice then, watching as the Russian Punk moved out of the Axel jump and slid his way down one long side of the rink, twisting from forward to backward before finally circling towards the middle again.
Who will tell the story of your life?
The teen leapt into a flying camel-spin, throwing his legs out and putting his hands behind his back as he spun in reverse on the landing. Hands went further back then, reaching for the blade of his skate and pulling it behind his head.
In the end, as my soul's laid to rest, what is left of my body?
Or am I just a shell?
As the spin morphed from one position to another, finally breaking away and moving off for a few choreographic moves, leading into a triple Salchow, triple Toe-loop combo, Yuri felt a hand sliding across his outer thigh. Another hip came up aside his own on the opposite side, and hazel eyes glanced back to find one certain husband finally making his presence known at rink-side.
And I have fought, and with flesh and blood I commanded an army,
Through it all, I have given my heart for a moment of glory...
"Is Chris still sulking?" Yuri wondered, half-amused by the prior spectacle, "He normally scores around 290...299 is actually pretty good for him."
"I think he's mad that he hasn't scored over 300 since the Sochi Final." Viktor answered, fingers sliding under the shimmering fabric panel covering his spouse's left hip as he leaned in closer against the right, "Everyone here but me is younger than him, so it burns a bit that you're all probably going to score higher."
"He can always do better at the next event, right?"
"The next event isn't as big a deal as the Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final." Viktor huffed a laugh, looking down then to spot the cell-phone in his partner's hands, screen still on to the last text window he'd typed into, "...He isn't here?"
In the end, as you fade into the night (Oh whoa oh oh)
Who will tell the story of your life? (Oh whoa oh oh)
Yurio was getting the audience into the performance, pointing out at them as though the lyrics of the song were his interrogation of them; twisting and turning, focusing on different ends of the arena as his dance embodied the tale.
"Whatever you guys said to each other," Yuri said quietly, barely audible over the cheers of the crowd, "...It's making him not even want to check his phone." He pulled up from where he'd been resting against his elbows on the rink-wall, and put his phone away, just barely missing where 'Delivered' changed over to 'Seen,' leaning back against his partner's chest. He felt warm arms come around his sides, clasping one hand over the opposite wrist, and Yuri let his head tilt back against the Russian's shoulder, his own hands settling on the man's forearms, "At least we all have until Monday for this to get sorted out. Yurio's handling this a lot better than I would've if I were in his shoes."
And who will remember your last goodbye? (Oh whoa oh oh)
Cuz it's the end, and I'm not afraid...I'm not afraid to die.
(I'm not afraid...I'm not afraid to die.)
Quad Loop, single Loop, triple Toe-loop with a stumble, but Yurio managed to keep upright, continuing on without letting it bother him.
Viktor nuzzled against the side of his partner's neck, kissing just beneath one ear before turning his attention back to the show ahead of him, "Maybe. But...maybe not."
"Maybe not?" Yuri repeated, rolling his head a bit on that shoulder to look at the man, "What do you mean?"
Born a Saint, but with every sin I still wanna be holy.
I will live again.
Yurio moved along in a backwards tilt, making the sign of the cross over his chest before hydroplaning around the curve of the far end of the rink. As he rose, he lifted his arms and hands high, twizzling and twisting elaborately.
Who we are, isn't how we live, we are more than our bodies.
He pounded his chest with one hand, gesturing with both at his lithe frame, then suddenly stopping in the middle of the rink, sinking the right toe-pick down into the ice.
If I fall, I will rise back up and relive my glory.
He lowered his head slightly to the side, right arm out and away from himself, but then arcing it up above his head with his fingers splayed. He stomped the right skate hard on the thunderous crack of the drums, and powered forward in a two-pace sprint-like run before sliding along on his blades again.
In the end, as you fade into the night (Oh whoa oh oh)
Who will tell the story of your life? (Oh whoa oh oh)
"I don't know if it's because you bounced your head off the ice, but I've noticed at least since this morning that...you're a little different." Viktor explained resolutely, crystal blue eyes focused on the performance, even as he could feel Yuri looking at him skeptically, "I know, I know...I probably sound insane saying that."
"...Not really, but...explain?"
Yurio skidded into a reverse-rotation sit-spin, crouching low over his extended leg as he pivoted on the other. With both arms crossed over his chest in the first form, he twisted over himself for the second, extended leg bending slightly around him as one arm curved forward and the other back for the twist variant. The free leg came in for the end, and Yurio bend slightly over his spinning blade, switching edges as he grabbed his other skate behind himself for the final move.
And who will remember your last goodbye? (Oh whoa oh oh)
Cuz it's the end, and I'm not afraid...I'm not afraid to die.
He rose up dramatically, hair flying like a punk-rocker's as the guitar solo began and the teen threw his head back. He immediately moved off to begin the step sequence, spiraling in a diagonal across the ice to find his place and begin the serpentine path.
Viktor pursed his lips in thought for a moment, but then leaned his hips back a bit to more easily rest his chin on his husband's shoulder, arms still snugly clasped around the man's core, "You lamented in Calgary that you thought you had become more confident, only to be shot down when people reacted to you like you'd come across as arrogant instead. It killed you for a good while, and I feel like your pride was trampled through most of Trophée de France and even half of Cup of China, with moments of exception."
Yuri listened quietly, eyes on Yurio again as the words went on.
"But then...after I had my drunken melt-down on top of the Ritz Carlton, and with everything that happened at NHK...you rebuilt yourself, even facing down my father like a crazy-person." The Russian went on, "I think I told you before that the confidence you showed in those select moments...was the kind of confidence you normally only show when you're completely blitzed." He laughed, hugging a little tighter as he spied his partner's cheeks getting pink at the mention of that rather lively Kyushu heritage, "But in a way...that excited, thrill-seeking, proud and determined nature is exactly the thing about you that made me fall for you in the first place. I guess what I'm trying to say is..."
A finger suddenly came up to the silver legend's lips, and Yuri's frame tensed up slightly, "...Wait, watch..."
Blue eyes blinked in confusion, but the Russian looked out across the ice and saw the blonde teen backing up on his left inside edge, right leg sticking out behind himself...
In the end...
Toe-pick, four revolutions, landing on the right skate and sliding out...
...As you fade into the night (Oh whoa oh oh)
"He did the quad Flip again." Yuri huffed, impressed but concerned, "Before long, the Axel might be the only thing I can use as my trump card to beat him..." He shook his head though and nosed at his partner's jawline, "Sorry, you were saying...?"
Who will tell the story of your life? (Oh whoa oh oh)
And who will remember your last goodbye? (Oh whoa oh oh)
Quad Toe-loop, double Toe-loop.
"Ehm..." Viktor tried to recollect his thoughts after the interruption, "I guess...what you just did...is a good example." He started, "You've almost always let me call the shots on everything, but lately, and especially these last two days...you've started doing that more yourself."
"...You think so?" Yuri wondered, a bit surprised to have it put that way, "What makes you say that?"
"Because I know I'm not." He answered, drawing in a bit closer again, "You heard me earlier telling my cousin that it's not always such a bad thing to take a back seat in a relationship...to be the beta for a while... I kind of had that epiphany about things this morning. Strange as it sounds, after Minako cracked my brain in half last night and you carted me back to the hotel...I really haven't been that interested in retaking the wheel again."
Cuz it's the end, and I'm not afraid...I'm not afraid to die.
Another guitar-solo, and another step sequence. Yurio was starting to feel the burn, and sweat was beading on his skin, but he pushed through the second intense footwork formation with all his power.
Yuri watched the teen carefully, but half his mind was focused on what his spouse had said. He shifted his weight from one blade-guard to the other, and drew in a quiet breath, "I guess I've noticed that. I think I just attributed it to the fact that I was saying you should relax and not think about things while we were away from it all."
"Exactly. You were telling me to." Viktor affirmed, "And I...think I've realized... I like it better this way."
The younger figure couldn't help but furrow his brow at that, and turned his head from the ice to gawk at his husband, "...You like me being in control of things...?"
The Russian looked back at him rather seriously, "Yes."
"O...Oh." Yuri was stunned, looking down and away again, then back to the Tiger in the rink, who was vaulting through a tano triple Lutz, "...But why?"
"...I feel steadier this way." Viktor answered simply.
Who will remember this last goodbye? (Oh whoa oh oh)
Cuz it's the end, and I'm not afraid...I'm not afraid to die.
Yurio threw himself into the program's final required element; the combination spin, with flying entry, landing in the standard camel and morphing it into a sitting twist-variant, rising up into a scratch spin, one arm rising up above his head as the other grasped the blade of one skate, holding it low for a few rotations before finally lifting it high behind his head for the full Biellmann spin.
Not afraid...(I'm not afraid to die)
The Russian Punk jerked out of the spin and twisted a few times, moving backwards through the last few paces and beats of the song.
No, not afraid...
He stabbed the right toe-pick down into the ice, feet apart, arms swinging out loosely, bringing them in, and then finally out again for the final thunderous crack of the song.
(I'm not afraid to die)
Nikki and Viktoria were wild with their cheers, right alongside the rest of the audience, watching as Yurio finally let himself relax a bit as he fell to his butt and then his back on the ice, heaving for breath.
Viktor smiled and laughed to himself at the sight, clapping his hands in front of his spouse's core as Yuri did much the same. After a few moments though, he returned his hands to holding onto the man, only to find him turning in his grasp to look at him more evenly.
"Are you sure you're not just depressed?" Yuri wondered comically, pressing the front of his wrist to his husband's forehead, "Maybe you're still running a fever. I never thought you'd say you want someone else to lead you around."
"Most people never thought I'd quit skating cold-turkey to go play coach to some random guy in Japan, either." He retorted, "But here we are."
"You're not trying to surprise me somehow...are you?"
Viktor shook his head, "No, I'm being serious...for once."
Yuri choked a disbelieving laugh, "You've been serious most of this weekend!"
"And I want to relax. Permanently." The silver legend explained, a look in his eyes like he wasn't just saying it out of stress and panic, "Maybe I've just been waiting all this time for you to be ready... And maybe it never would've turned out this way if you'd never insisted on making me deal with my past. But I have, and I've finally been able to put it behind me..." He lowered his face and pressed his forehead to his soulmate's, "So in a weird kind of way...with you stepping up after I broke down...I realize that I'm truly, and finally, safe. I don't have to be hyper-vigilant anymore. I can let go...and finally just sit back and be me, without all the baggage."
"Sounds like you're saying you want to settle down." The younger figure wondered, bringing his arms up over his husband's shoulders, fingers laced together loosely behind the man's neck, "Does that sound about right?"
Viktor thought on it a moment, but then nodded, gently lowering his forehead against his partner's nose and then back up again, "...I think so. And I think...I've been desperately wanting to...for a really long time. I just didn't realize how badly I needed to until it seemed like I could."
Yuri looked on for a moment in solemn quiet, the roar of the audience all around them seeming miles away. The way his husband felt under his arms, the look on his face, in those blue eyes...Yuri could feel a sense of surrender.
...It's not like he's giving up, per se... He thought, It's more like...the master becomes the student? All the times I've given him grief about being so impulsive and never thinking ahead, maybe he's actually been testing me, in a way. ...He says he fell in love with me because of how I was at the Sochi Banquet...then all this time, since finding out what I'm really like when I'm not drowning in champagne, he's been trying to build me back up to being that same person again, without the need for liquid courage.
Viktor was staring right back, equally quiet, waiting for some kind of answer...worrying he'd said too much, or the wrong thing. For a split second, he felt a pang of guilt shoot through him, and he grimaced much the same way he had the night he'd utterly shattered his then-not-even-fiancé's glass heart by suggesting he'd resign and leave.
Yuri turned his head a bit, looking out across the ice to where Yurio had finally gotten back up again and had picked up a cat-ear head-band, thrown out to him like so many bouquets of flowers and plush cats. This band was styled in orange and black though, striped like tiger's ears, and he gladly set it on his head, much to the delighted screams of his fangirls. Hazel eyes turned back though, looking on into those anxious crystal hues, yearning for some kind of answer.
...All these years, I've been chasing after him, trying to catch up on the ice. Who could've guessed that he was looking for something to chase, too? But...he's brought me this far. I hope I'm ready to be what he needs, the same way he's been what I needed.
He rocked forward a bit on his blade-guards and gave that wordless answer that he knew his partner would understand, one hand sliding up the back of the man's neck to weave fingers into that silver hair. He could feel Viktor's frame relax under his touch, the last bit of tension that had built back up melting away with that kiss. When he pulled back again though, eyes still closed, Yuri smiled, "...We're going to be flying in Economy a lot more often."
"W-What!? That's not what I meant! Yuri!" The Russian panicked, "You can't mean that! I'll die."
He just laughed though, holding onto one shoulder as he turned to face the rink again and held up a finger, tapping his partner's nose affectionately, "Economy Plus then, for your precious leg space."
Viktor blinked at him, a concerned-and-confused but nonetheless happy smile on his face, and he leaned in closer again to nuzzle one cheek against the other, "Love you."
"Love you, too."
.
"The score for Yuri Plisetsky..."
Everyone in the Players Club was glued to the television, especially Chris, who was barely clinging to the podium by that point in 3rd place.
"...202.15. He is currently in 2nd place."
"AHHH!" Phichit cried dramatically, "NOOOO!"
Chris slouched in his seat, grumbling quietly to himself. His coach pat one shoulder.
RUS - Yuri PLISETSKY - 202.15 [NPB] - 303.57 [2nd]
Yurio stood up calmly from the bench in the kiss and cry, Yakov and Lilia rising with him to make way for the next skater. He felt numb despite his score. Phichit had gotten higher than him; better presentation score even if the jumps weren't worth as much. He'd barely out-scored Chris' Free Skate and final total; Chris was more experienced, but age was starting to hold him back.
Viktor's more than likely to put me into 3rd. I can only stay on the podium if Otabek somehow messes up. Damnit...
He looked from Nikki and Viktoria's excited faces and congratulations to Otabek standing behind the crowd, getting a smile and an applause just like he had at the previous year's Final. Viktor and Yuri were there as well, practically clinging to one another to the teen's perception, but looking straight at him in spite of it. He could see their mouths moving in adulation like all the others, but none of the words reached him.
Yuri saw how the teen's expression hadn't changed since standing up. It made him a bit nervous, and he let his partner go to step closer, "Yuri...you okay? You just set a new personal best...why aren't you happy?"
"I could've done better." He answered quietly, stuffing his hands into his jacket's pockets, "That fucker Mikhail is messing with my head." The teen lowered his gaze, "I couldn't focus; his stupid attitude is freaking me out."
"Mmhh..." Yuri hummed, "...I know it probably doesn't help now, but..." He pointed to the top edge of the first ring of seating around the arena, and a level strip of a hallway that divided the front row area from the second.
Emerald eyes glanced up in that direction, and spotted the ghost of a darkly-clad silver-haired man there looking back at him.
"I don't know how long he's been there, but at least he came in the end." The older skater explained, perching his arm on the edge of one of the teen's shoulders.
Yurio glowered at the elder Russian, but he felt a sudden nudge, and his condemnation faded to confusion, looking back at his friend, "What?"
"You're glaring at him like you're mad." Yuri explained, "But he wasn't even here for my show. He came back for yours. It took a lot of courage to come back into the arena, given how he obviously feels about other things right now, and halfway getting into a fight about it with Viktor a few minutes ago. I know it wasn't ideal...but be grateful anyway, okay? For you, he swallowed his pride and turned up."
The small Russian made a face at that, like he was both annoyed and confused at the fact that those words made sense. He closed his eyes and shook his head, and turned his gaze back to the place he'd seen the older man a moment before.
Mikhail was still looking down from the higher vantage, and Yurio nodded at him.
To the Russian Tiger's great relief...Mikhail nodded back.