CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED EIGHT
Six different piles of meat, vegetables, and sauces were tossed and sizzling on a huge circular griddle, and six pairs of eyes watched them intently. Yuri could practically feel the drool dribbling down his chin, being overtaken by the smell of the much-needed food almost as easily as katsudon did. His starving focus was soon broken though by the feeling of a nudge against his cheek, and he blinked a few times to regain himself.
"You look hungry." Viktor mused, clinging to the younger man's back in his usual fashion, "Are you about to find your eros again?"
"I feel like my stomach's about to start eating itself." Yuri answered, "I'm totally famished..."
"You did hit the ice pretty hard earlier..." The Russian pointed out, "It's a wonder you still somehow think you're not ready."
The duo whispered between one another as their much-anticipated dinners were finished, watched by the other four members of the entourage. None could hear what the duo were saying to each other, but Yuri's nervous laugh was easy to see on his face. Viktor ceased his teasing only when the griddle-cook had his plate on offer, and the Russian peeled off his partner's back to reach for it.
By the time the whole group made it to their chosen table, one could easily be forgiven for mistaking the skaters for ravenous wolves. Ketty and Tess just watched them in awe, careful not to get their hands too close for fear of losing fingers to the frenzy.
Yurio eventually paused as he felt a buzz in his back pocket, and set his fork aside only long enough to grab the offending phone and see what and who dared interrupt. Seeing Nikki's name-plate there, his half-irritated expression changed to dubious wonder.
[Crisis averted.]
[...Eh?] He answered back, setting the phone face-down on the table to go back to shoveling food. It only took a few seconds for it to buzz again though, and Yurio flipped it over to look.
[Dad and Minako sorted things out.]
Blinking those emerald eyes a few times like he couldn't believe what was written, the Russian lifted his head and stared ahead almost vacantly.
Otabek gawked at him, "You look like you just saw a ghost or something."
Yuri shifted his attention when he heard the words, and suddenly was just as curious, "What's wrong?"
"...Nothing is wrong." He answered, "...It's...actually better now, I think."
"...Eh?"
"I think Nikki figured out a way to get Okukawa and the old man to have a sit-down." Yurio started, "She just messaged me to say they were back together again."
"Hmph..." Viktor huffed, bits of rice stuck to his face, though he didn't bother picking them off with a finger like he normally did, "Maybe now that my uncle's pulled his head out of his arse, he'll be able to manage an apology."
"Viktor..." Yuri gave him a look.
"What?" The Russian shrugged, trying to look innocent, "I made an effort to reach out to him yesterday and apologize for what I'd said after the Short Program, but he cut me off and threw the whole thing back on me."
"He was stressed out. Cut him a little slack."
Viktor shrugged again and went back to his plate.
Yuri grumbled a bit under his breath, "The more time goes by, the more similar you two become."
"What? How?"
"Don't you find it a little bit ironic that you're holding it against him for cutting you off and going into a tirade about all the stuff he's blaming you for, when in doing so, he was stopping you from apologizing for going into a tirade about all the stuff he's doing that you don't like?"
Viktor blinked at him, but remained quiet for a few seconds, before finally saying 'nope' and going back to his dinner. He could feel the exasperated look on his husband's face, staring at him, and paused what he was doing, setting the fork down neatly, "He blamed me for what Minako did as though it was my idea, when I had no active part in it. I, on the other hand, got mad at him for something he actually did."
"We don't even know if that's true yet though. You got mad at him over a hypothetical."
"What the Hell are you two talking about?" Yurio asked distantly, "What did the old man do?"
The two skaters paused in their minor argument, side-eyeing one another like neither was sure they should say anything. Yuri, however, answered for them both, "Nothing for now."
"That's a horrible cliff-hanger to leave on me. I literally just got a bit of relief on the one hand and now you're taking a big crap in the other." The teen grumbled, then gesturing across the table, "I'm going to be just as gray as Viktor by the end of all of this."
"Hey." The older Russian pointed at his hair, "It's silver. Not grey."
"Sorry..." Yuri sighed, "I don't want to leave you hanging, but I have a feeling they would both prefer we not discuss it until we know for sure one way or another."
"Do Nikki or Viktoria know?"
Yuri shrugged, "No clue."
The teen had his phone out again and was tapping away at the screen madly.
"If they don't, then you'll just be making them nervous, too." The older skater pointed out.
"And if they do, then there'll be no reason for me to be the only person who doesn't know." Yurio answered stoically, sending his message to his younger 'sister.' He set his phone face-up on the table then and eyeballed it for the reply he hoped would come soon.
"If it makes you feel better, I'm not supposed to know either." Yuri explained, "The only reason I do is because I forced Viktor to tell me."
Yurio was too focused on his phone though and ignored the words, watching the jumping dots on the screen as Nikki typed her answer. When it finally showed up, the teen had to pick up his phone, staring at the screen and tilting his head like it would somehow force the message to make more sense.
"...What'd she say?" Viktor asked, reaching for his drink and pulling it up to take a sip.
"Her dad is a prolific breeder, apparently." The Russian Punk answered, as though it didn't matter.
"PFFFFT-"
"Whatever." Yurio slouched back in his seat indignantly, and typed his answer, [Aren't people normally excited about this kind of thing? Why is everyone acting all ass-backwards about it?]
[I'm pretty sure that papa is, but Minako isn't, so he isn't letting it show.]
[When did you guys find out about this?]
[Like...5 minutes ago?]
[Was anyone going to tell ME about it?]
[Yeah, but they wanted to tell you in person.]
[Papa says he wanted to wait until we all met up again at the LCA, so he could buffer the news about Minako with the good news that everything ELSE was okay again]
[In case you didn't take it well]
[oh]
[Why wouldn't I take it well?]
[Cuz...Minako...was gonna be your...coach?]
[And she's gonna be pretty busy, if this isn't a false alarm]
Yurio lifted his head, and stared across the table at his older counterpart, who again had his drink up.
Viktor swallowed quickly and lowered the drink, giving a nervous look, "...What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Be my coach."
The silver legend just coughed and hacked instead, his breath caught in his throat uncomfortably. Yuri frantically pat his back, hoping he wasn't choking. When Viktor finally stopped, he still held to the front of his neck with one hand, resting the other on his husband's leg to reassure him that he was fine, "...Be your coach? Where'd that come from? I thought Minako was going to do that for now."
"If she ends up having a kid, she'll be too busy for me." Yurio said stiffly, "Maybe just do like when you asked Yakov to be Katsudon's coach at Rostelecom last year. Nine months from now puts us right at the start of next year's Grand Prix Series. If she can't come, then I'll just need someone to fill in for her, and if you're going to be my choreographer anyway..."
"Mnnnhhhh..." Viktor grumbled a little, looking dubious and unsure, "The way the Final turned out this year, there's no telling how the Series line-up will look next year. It's possible they may schedule us to be at all 6 events so we don't compete against each other again... I'm exhausted after just going to four of them this season..."
"You technically withdrew." Otabek pointed out, "Worst case scenario, you get put at all 6 events, but since the record shows you didn't take a medal home, there's no stipulation that says you can't be placed at the same events as this season's medalists."
Yuri nodded in agreement, "And they put me and Yuri at one event together this season anyway, despite the fact that we both medaled last year. We know what to expect now, too...so if we have to go to every GP event before the Final, we'll be better prepared."
Viktor didn't look convinced, and moved his hand up from his throat to put a finger against his lip, pulling his free hand back to wrap around himself as he thought about it all with a worried look on his face.
"Let me be the speed-bump for everything that's to come." Yuri went on, pressing his chin against the edge of his husband's shoulder, wrapping both arms around the man soothingly, "If everything's going through me from now on anyway, then I'll do all the paperwork and make all the necessary phone calls, too. No one can get to you unless they go through me first. You can focus all your attention on just the fun part of being a skater and coach, like back when you organized 'Onsen on Ice' with the triplets."
The silver legend drew in a breath, and lowered the finger from his lip, tilting his head to rest the side of it against the front of his spouse's, "'Onsen on Ice' was pretty fun..."
Yuri smiled as he felt the relief of the Russian's agreement, and tilted his face up to kiss the exposed part of the man's forehead, "And who knows, maybe we just jinxed ourselves. This was your big official come-back season, and everyone was making a huge fuss out of us competing against each other because of how things turned out at Worlds. Next year should be a lot calmer."
"...Yeah..." Viktor nodded, his frame palpably starting to relax again, "Even if something does happen, after what we went through over these last few weeks, it would probably be a breeze to deal with."
"Exactly."
"Awww Yuri look at you," Tess mused, "All grow'd up and being responsible. Who would've thought that the anxious kid I used to know would eventually be managing both of Russia's reigning champions?"
The young skater's face went pink at the mention of it, but he managed a nervous laugh, "I'm still getting used to the fact that I'm married to one."
"Let's not forget that you're Japan's reigning champion," Viktor added, "Quite the upgrade from how you used to call yourself a 'dime-a-dozen skater with the JSF.'"
Yuri's face just turned a darker shade, especially as he felt his partner nuzzling at the side of his neck affectionately, "I learned from the best."
.
The audience swelled as it made its way through the arena, everyone trying to find the best vantage to watch the ice. Lights were down, and spotlights of snowflake shapes danced across the rink. Beneath the stands, a hum of energy was felt in the air within the Players' Club, the lights there darkened as well as skaters lined up close to the doorway.
The trio of Men's Singles winners stood closest to the exit, looking out into the near-darkness of the arena as they waited for things to get started. Yurio looked particularly excited for once, his thin frame covered by tattered and ragged-looking vestments. In his hands, he carried a full-head-covering mask and hat, which looked rather eerie with its pointed ears and demonic-looking face.
"This is going to be so badass." He said, bouncing up onto his toes and down again repeatedly, "I never thought I'd be this excited for a Christmas thing."
"If you're going to do something once, it's worth doing right the first time." Otabek agreed, himself dressed rather 'normally' by comparison in a black suit, the jacket unbuttoned, a navy blue button-down shirt beneath it, and a dark tie hanging from his neck, "I don't think I'll be able to listen to regular Christmas music again after this."
"Me neither."
"Only in America." Yuri laughed, looking back over his shoulder to see familiar and excited faces behind himself, "Shouldn't be long now."
Just as he finished, the sound of an orchestra began to play, trumpets and other horns blasting an official proclamation for all to hear. The snowflake shapes on the ice morphed into standard circles, and the ISU logo appeared in the center of the purple-shadowed rink.
"Ladies...and Gentlemen," The announcer could be heard overhead suddenly.
"Nice call." Yurio huffed, lifting the mask to put over his head then and tucking the 'neck' edges into his costume mantle, "I'll see you guys out there in a minute." He finished, disappearing to the back of the group, where about 5 others were putting together similar outfits to his own.
"Welcome...to the Gala...!"
The crowd was starting to cheer, and the spotlights on the ice faded out, leaving only a line of light along the bottom inside edge of the rink-wall. That was the cue for the first wave of skaters to get onto the ice, and Otabek lead the way with Yuri close behind, and the rest of the non-demonoid ensemble. In the dark, they went out to take their positions, standing in something of a grid formation in two groups, one at each end of the rink. Once they were still, a single bright spotlight descended towards the Players' Club doors, and an announcer in a fancy tuxedo stepped out carrying a wireless microphone. The light shone down over him, and followed him out onto the ice.
"We have witnessed these last few days of absolutely incredible skating, and celebrated together the achievements of the winners of this Grand Prix Final of Figure Skating." He said excitedly, gliding around the ice, weaving through the 'grid' of darkened athletes, "We have come together to witness the highest level of skill and talent that the sport has to offer, and reveled in the beauty of this beloved art. Tonight, however...we would like to add another chapter to this story, and show the world what else figure skating can be. It's emotive elegance, fun, charisma, and style...but more than that, beyond the high stakes of competition...how it can be entertainment! Tonight...let us bear witness to the Exhibition of Champions!"
The audience went wild with excitement, and the announcer bowed out to leave the rink again. The lights seemed to get even darker then; even the red ribbons of light in the stands where the electronic banners glowed were dimmed, leaving only the line of light within the rink wall. The skaters looked like shadows where they stood, still as clear water, waiting for their cues.
['Carols of Chaos - Metal Christmas Album' - Start at 22:33 for 'What Child is This']
As the music gently began, the line of skaters closest to center slowly rotated in place, gesturing one arm up and then out across the rink to their counterparts on the opposite side. The lights slowly faded on, casting a blue-purple hue over the rink. The second row of skaters then followed suit, rotating in place and making the same gesture. They then all rotated together, one skater from each row reaching back to take the hand of the one behind them, and moving into a larger circle before breaking off in wide arcs and heading towards center.
In six lines, the rows moved through one another, gliding forward on their right blades, left held out behind them as they reached forward with their right hands, merging and emerging again with the group from the opposite side of the rink, then circling around again to 'face off' in place. They seemed to turn where they stood, pirouetting like ballerinas on the ice, each in their own style...some lowering down to slowly rotate in a sit-spin, others reaching high for the roof, but eventually coming to pause in their starting positions again.
One group broke away to their left, the other to the right, arching along the longest edge of the rink into halves of a big circle and merging into two smaller circles. The inner group moved clockwise, the outer counter-clockwise, each gracefully waving their arms in slow, billowy undulations. Four skaters from the inner group withdrew to the center of the circle, taking one another's' hands and facing out as they leaned back.
[End 'What Child is This' at 23:16 and go to 'Carol of the Bells' starting at 0:35]
The music suddenly became more intense then, and six impish-looking creatures came rushing out from rink-side, scattering the elegant circles like hawks chasing after lesser birds. They morphed into six smaller groups, each one being 'lead' by the demonic figure, weaving and gliding over the ice and through one another until...
[0:52]
...Smoke started rising dramatically in huge billowing torrents from the Players' Club doorway, enveloping half the ramp to the ice in a veil of blue and grey. A few seconds later, the groups were made to stop in an arc facing the rink door, the imps out in front and their hapless hostages behind. Eyes went wide as a burst of flame rose up on each side of the door, and a huge, hulking shadow emerged from behind.
Two enormous, forward facing and backward-curving horns that poked through tattered holes in a dirty, grey-trimmed hat, a long dirty beard under a distorted mouth full of long fangs, a massive hunched-over body, and dragging behind it in one clawed hand, a huge empty sack. The creature paused at the edge of the ice, and the imps jumped around excitedly, crouching down on toe-picks and jumping up again in celebration.
[1:08]
The Demon of Christmas, Krampus, stepped forward onto the ice, gliding along as though floating, and the skaters flocked away, leaving their captors stunned and surprised. The smaller demons suddenly gave chase after them, and the hulking behemoth stalked around center, threatening each of them with the sack at the end of its long, thin arm.
The normal-looking skaters clung to the rink wall at each end of the arena, while the impish creatures found themselves bathed in spotlights, each one leaping into various flying spins while Krampus hazed them all from center. The six then moved to form a big circle around the larger creature, twizzling and twisting until suddenly stopping.
[1:47]
The music changed again, quieter than before but still intimidating. The imps turned to face away from Krampus, gesturing at the skaters still huddling on the walls, daring them to come forward and put on some display.
They took the taunt for what it was, and burst forward. Pairs gathered up together and were bathed under spotlights as they began lifting one another into the air, spinning in place or doing Death Spirals. The solo skaters got closer to the ring of imps, each one putting on a display of combination spins of their own, some even rounding to the sides and vaulting into different jumps. Before long, it seemed to become a battle, with the six smaller demons joining the larger group, and Krampus skulked around the rink's edge, moving into center and circling through different groups as though in judgment.
Eventually though, they all formed up together, facing the same direction with their hulking leader-demon out in front. It turned around to face them...and kneeled.
[4:06]
The skaters all faced the defeated creature, looking at its bowed, horned head. The six lesser creatures kneeled towards it in turn, hands and knees on the ice. The chime of sleigh-bells echoed throughout the arena, and eventually, the music faded out entirely, and the lights died down all around again.
With the audience's loud cheering, the athletes took a moment to catch their breath.
"Ladies and Gentlemen...ISU International Skating Union is proud to present your Champions for the evening..."
Even in the dark, it was easy to find their way in front of the Krampus demon, a spotlight suddenly shining down just in front of it. Various athletes were called out by nationality, award status, and name, each one passing through the light and being followed by another for a few seconds before they moved back towards the exit to rink-side. As the names of the imps were called, they cast off their mask-hats and tossed them towards the wall to be picked up by event staff, emerging under the light and waving to the crowds.
The Men's winners regrouped at the mouth of the Players's Club, looking out onto the ice, and towards the face of the still-kneeling Krampus. The last of the other skaters had finally come off the frost a few moments later, leaving none on the ice but the motionless demon.
"...And...last but not least...representing Russia..."
The crowd went wild with expectation...there was only one skater who hadn't been seen or called.
"...Viktor...Nikiforov!"
Coming out from under the ragged coat and rags of the behemoth, the silver legend emerged, leaving the standing husk of his previous 'outfit' on its own. The light, and the cacophony of excited howls and cheers, came over him like waves, and he bowed rather dramatically in all directions before finally 'stepping' back inside the Krampus hollow. Like clockwork, he made the thing rise back up from kneeling, and spun around the ice a few more times before heading to the rink wall after the others.
Just as Viktor got the hulking ensemble out of the way, Yurio slipped by and stepped back onto the frost, changed completely into a different outfit from the dingy one he'd worn for the opening performance. However, in the dark, it was impossible to see what it was. He found his way towards center and took position.
"The first performance of the Gala...your Men's Singles Bronze Medalist...Yuri...Plisetsky!"