CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED ELEVEN
Going from the bright lights of the Comerica Lounge to the darkened arena was like walking into a black hole. The Pair Skaters on the ice were doing their final bows before heading off, and the Ladies Bronze medalist, Sara Crispino, was getting ready to take their place. Her twin loitered nearby, looking as salty as ever that he, once again, and for the second year in a row, hadn't made it to the Grand Prix Final as a competitor.
The trio slipped by quietly, making their way to the opposite end of the waiting area on the edge of the rink wall from where Yuri and Viktor had been watching previously. From that side, there was a second doorway leading under the stadium, but it went behind the Players' Club rather than into it. From that side, there was no barrier wall preventing access to the seating area.
"There's a spot." Yurio said suddenly, pointing to a second row of seats just past the first set of stairs, just before the rink turned a corner. The trio made their way past the first row seats right up against the rink wall, many spectators barely realizing who was going by until they could see the outline of two sets of long-tailed jester hats flopping by, and suddenly everyone was raising their knees to make way, like the parting of the Red Sea. When they finally got to the seats the teen had spotted, Otabek waited to sit last, keeping to the aisle so he could leave more easily once Sara was done. She herself was setting blades to ice then, the spotlights shining down on her.
"Ladies and Gentlemen...your Women's Singles Bronze medalist, Italy's Sara Crispino...!"
Yurio took the inside-most spot, putting himself between the audience and his 'little sister,' and Otabek closed the gap on her other side, "This isn't too bad."
"Oh, that's one of the people that we saw at the outdoor rink the other day." Nikki pointed out, looking at the skater making loops on the ice, "She was with that other lady, the one that hefted you into the air." She teased, nudging Yurio with an elbow.
"Mila..." He grumbled.
"How do you know them?"
"Mila Babicheva is on the Russian team. We trained at the same rink together under Yakov." He answered simply, "That chick out there is Sara, and the two of them are friends."
"How come Mila lifts you up like a barbell?" The younger teen mused.
"Habit, I guess. She used to date a hockey player so she'd always want to show off that figure skaters could be strong, too."
Sara stopped in the middle of the rink and took her position.
['The Judicator' - Krale]
Yurio leaned forward slightly and gave the Kazakh a knowing, arrogant sort of smirk, "Mila also has a thing for Otabek."
The dark-eyed skater barely glanced over at him, the music playing loudly overhead, "I know."
That just deflated the teen's tease, "...Oh." He leaned back in his seat with a huff.
Nikki glanced between the two, but settled on the man to her left, "So I guess you're already with someone then if you're not interested in Mila?"
"Never said so." The Kazakh answered simply, eyes fixed on the ice, "It's just not something I'm thinking about right now. I'm focused on the sport."
"Yeah..." Yurio agreed, getting Nikki's attention back, "Figure skaters are only active for a short period of time. The jumps and twists are hard on our bodies so we wear down faster than other sports, even contact sports like hockey. If we don't focus all of our attention on what we're doing, we might not reach our potential before we have to retire."
"...Cousin Viktor's pretty old though and he still competes."
"Skaters don't really go past 30. He's turning 29 in a week and a half." The older teen explained, watching as Sara vaulted through a triple Toe-loop, triple Loop combo, "Viktor's said he wants to compete for one more year, but on style points rather than a strictly competitive lineup. He just wants to have fun, and see how far he can go."
"Is he competing in the Olympics?"
Yurio shrugged, "It would be a logistical nightmare for him. The Olympics are way different than these regular ISU events. If he goes to PyeongChang to compete, then he can't be Katsudon's coach. So, he has to pick between the two."
"How come you call him Katsudon anyway?" Nikki wondered then, jade eyes examining the blonde to her right, "You got all mad about me calling you Yura."
He grit his teeth, but then closed his eyes and sighed as he slouched a bit in his seat, "It's a pun on his favorite food and his old last name, from before him and Viktor got hitched; Katsuki."
In the Players' Club, the pair of skaters were going through the motions of some last-second choreography practice. Yuri had to stop though, sneezing unexpectedly. He snuffled and shrugged though, then looked back over at his spouse and motioned that they continue.
Yurio pulled his right leg up, hooking the heel of his blade-guard onto the front of the plastic seat to hold it up, "Back when we all first started being around each other, it got confusing that him and I had the same first name. His sister decided to call me Yurio, and it stuck, but I hated it. Back then, I hated him too, and I'd even told him that he should retire since there wasn't room for two Yuris in the Senior bracket. That was before Viktor became his coach though...he was garbage back then."
"That's not nice..."
"You said you saw Viktor's shows at NHK last weekend." The Russian Punk stated flatly, tilting his head back against his seat and training his own green eyes on the silver-haired girl next to him, "Viktor's Free Skate score alone was higher than Katsudon's final total at the Grand Prix in Sochi."
"Oh..." Nikki looked down at where her small hands were bunched up on her lap, but then looked back the way she had before, "Still, there's ways of saying he did badly without saying he was 'garbage.'"
Yurio had no answer and just looked back out at Sara's show.
"So I guess you just started calling him Katsudon instead of by his real name because you didn't want to be the only one subject to a nickname?" The girl went on, "That way there wouldn't be any Yuris in the bracket."
"I guess." He said simply, leaning his upturned knee aside, "Plus it's weird to say your own name when you're referring to someone else. Calling him 'Katsudon' is better than what I used to call him, at any rate."
"...What did you used to call him?" Nikki raised a brow skeptically.
"Something I dare not repeat, given how I can feel the slap coming..." He leaned slightly away from the girl then, keeping half an eye on her.
"Tell me. If you haven't called him that in a while then I won't be mad at you."
"...Viktor and I both called him a version of 'piggy.' Cuz he was fat when we got the Hasetsu the first time."
Nikki made a face, but it was a mix of confusion and disgust, "...Viktor called him 'piggy'?"
"Well, 'little piggy,' at any rate. He thought he was being funny. He wanted to motivate Yuri to lose the weight and get back into competition. He stopped when Yuri made it, so far as I'm aware."
Otabek suddenly pushed forward and rose up to standing, looking down at the two, "I'm gonna go. I'll come back after."
Yurio lifted his right hand and reached over Nikki's lap with his fingers curled into a fist, "We'll stay here then. Davai."
The Kazakh nodded and bumped his own knuckles against the younger skater's, "Thanks."
"Good luck!" The silver teen chirped, watching the older skater descend the stairs in the dark and head back the way they came. She turned back to Yurio after that though, the music above carrying on, "I'm glad you both stopped calling Yuri such mean names. It must've really hurt him, knowing what a softy he is even just from the few interactions I've had with him so far."
"I regret it." The blonde said flatly.
"Did you ever apologize?"
Yurio balked at that question, leaning away from her again to give a critical look, but then settled and roughly set his chin into the palm of his hand, holding it up with an elbow against the arm-rest away from her, "I've apologized for other things, but not that specifically."
The song above finally came to an end, and the audience raised applause, clapping and cheering as the Ladies skater bowed and waved. She gracefully slid towards the rink exit, stepping past Otabek as she grabbed for blade-guards and a jacket.
"Next on the ice, your Men's Singles Silver Medalist...Kazakhstan's Otabek Altin!"
The congratulatory applause changed to a welcoming cheer, and the dark-horse moved out onto the ice, gliding around for a bit to get used to skating in the dim lighting before taking his place in center. Moments later, his music began playing overhead.
['The Spectre' - Alan Walker]
A techno-like ambiance filled the arena, rising and falling, then rising again. Otabek glided backwards and left, then broke away again in front of the rink-wall, making for center again. He arced around to line up with the center of the rink, and suddenly paused. With the deep boom in the music, his legs crossed, perched on toe-picks, right hand on the front of his hip as the left extended forward, palm up.
Hello, hello...
Can you hear me, as I scream your name?
The forward hand came back again, cupping behind his ear as he rotated in place, then moving backwards again as both arms came forward, spreading out to each side as he lowered his head.
Hello, hello...
Do you need me, before I fade away?
Coming up to the rounded corner of the rink, Otabek twisted over into an outside spread-Eagle, arms still outstretched as he passed through the arch.
Is this the place that I call home?
Forward-facing lean, and the skater threw himself into a triple Axel, landing with a metallic thunk against the ice and carrying on.
To find what I've become
Walk along the path unknown
We live, we love, we lie...
Yurio side-eyed the teen next to him, painfully aware of how she'd gone silent since his last words. It almost startled him when she moved slightly, reaching both hands up to pull the tails of her hat over the front of her shoulders, holding onto the tip of one and playing with it idly, eyes on the ice.
Deep in the dark, I don't need the light.
There's a ghost inside me.
Otabek had gone from a single-knee slide to rising back up again, hand reaching up towards the lights high above. He flipped around backwards, both hands folded over one another against his chest, body weaving to and fro as blades moved through cross-overs.
It all belongs to the other side...
We live, we love, we lie...
The music switched gears, the lyrics fading out as an electric chorus rose up in their place, energizing the entire arena. Otabek started moving a bit faster, the music demanding it, moving through a step sequence as the beat returned. By the end of it, the skater was gliding in reverse along the long center-line of the rink, and clapped a toe-pick down in time with the new beat-sequence before throwing himself into a backwards-entry camel spin. The energy of the music carried him on like wind in the sails of a ship, desperate for more speed. The audience was wild with excitement, watching the athlete phase from the camel spin to a cannon-ball position, then out into something of a quarter-Biellann, holding the blade of one skate as his free hand rose up, but only lifting the raised leg to set his ankle behind a thigh before letting it go again and switching to a scratch spin.
The chorus begun again, and Otabek burst out of the spin quickly, gliding across the ice like he could fly.
"You got quiet on me." Yurio commented nervously, feeling like he was being judged even if Nikki wasn't looking at him, "Why?"
"Huh?" She turned, the tip of the hat-tail falling from her fingers, "I just didn't want to interrupt Beka's show."
The older teen deadpanned her, "...You're calling him that now too?"
"Who else calls him that?"
Hello, hello...
Nice to meet you, voice inside my head.
"...Your dad!" He argued, "Mila did too once!"
"Oh." Nikki laughed, "I actually learned if from papa. I just wasn't sure how Otabek would react to a nickname so I haven't said it when he's around."
Hello, hello...
I believe you, how can I forget?
"That's just like how people still call me 'Yurio' when they think I'm not in ear-shot." The blonde huffed.
"I think it's just easier for them, same as how you stick with 'Katsudon.'" Nikki shrugged, picking up the tail-tip of her hat again, "And how you refer to papa as 'old man' half the time. He's not that old."
Is this the place that I call home?
To find what I've become
Walk along the path unknown
We live, we love, we lie...
"Well, I'm not about to start calling him dad if that's what you're getting at." The blonde crossed his arms over his chest, finally lowering his leg back down so he could sit normally.
"None of us do, unless we're arguing with him. He'd probably choke if someone started referring to him as 'dad' normally." Nikki mused.
Yurio furrowed his brow, suddenly recalling an incident of just such a description.
.
"The world conspires against me." Viktor complained, putting his no-service phone away again, looking out the window as the Russian wilderness passed them by.
"It'll be maybe 20 minutes." Mikhail said from the driver's seat, Yurio in the front passenger seat beside him.
"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" The younger silver asked bitterly.
"Because the voice of reason prevailed." Mikhail answered, "And also because I said so."
"Yes, dad."
The car swerved slightly as the elder Russian felt a cringe in his throat and he coughed, clenching his fingers around the wheel as he tried to realign the car with the lane lines. He cleared his throat once the vehicle was finally back where it should be, and glowered at his nephew in the rear-view mirror.
Viktor found the whole thing oddly funny, and had a devious smile on his face where he leaned his head back against the seat.
.
"Huh...here I thought he only did that cuz it was Viktor who said it..." Yurio shrugged, eyes back on the ice, "Oh well."
Nikki huffled a quiet laugh to herself.
Deep in the dark, I don't need the light.
There's a ghost inside me.
Otabek hydrobladed in a wide arc, and swung his rudder-like extended right leg out to the side to bring himself to a stop, ending on his knees with both hands up in front of his face. One knee then came up, and he rose back up to his feet in a twisting motion, dipping slightly as he pushed backwards, glancing over his shoulder as he approached the curve.
It all belongs to the other side...
We live, we love, we lie...
A toe-pick went down to clip the ice, and the skater launched into a quad Toe-loop, landing, and launching again for a triple Loop.
Nikki clapped excitedly to see it, along with the rest of the audience, the music increasing the arena's energy again like before. As Otabek moved on though, she turned back to the blonde beside her, "You'll find your own word for papa. 'Pops' is already taken by Sergio, and 'pipaw' by Vikki, but you'll figure something out, if you want to anyway."
We live, we love, we lie...
Yurio found himself lost in the thought of it, though his eyes remained fixed on the show before him. Otabek was dancing through another step sequence, his blades a blur on the glowing frost. The tempo of the music changed, and the Kazakh flung himself through a few stars maneuvers before vaulting into another flying spin, this time landing lower for a sit variant, and continuing through as the music's pressure rose.
The skater slowly rose up with each transition, going from shoot-the-duck on the landing to a twist variant, then switching feet and rising further up to a camel spin with his hands clasped behind his back, and finally to another scratch spin before moving on again. He stood still for a moment, but clapped his hands with the double-beat of the music, and pushed forward. He threw himself for a quad Loop, single Loop, triple Toe-loop, pushing the boundaries of his stamina.
Yurio's eyes roamed over to where he spotted the next set of skaters coming out to rink-side; a pair of Ice Dancers, and their discipline's Silver medalists. By the time Yuri's turn came up, it would be the start of the Gold-ranked show, and then at the very end...the surprise Team Skate. Thinking about it, and all the excitement that had been generated about it...the SMS posts from fans wondering if the conditions of Viktor's challenge from Bordeaux had technically been met, since he'd given up his own spot on the podium to allow Yurio to gain it, and the speculation over whether the Team Skate would even happen...made the teen turn his eyes slightly towards the girl on his left again.
"Thanks for hopping into my show there at the end." He said simply, "I didn't say so before, but you did pretty good for having no opportunity to practice it first."
Nikki blinked at him initially, but then smiled sweetly, "It was a pleasure."
"After how much we tormented my fanclub on Friday, I'll bet they're probably wetting themselves over this one." He mused, the music overhead coming to a sudden end, Otabek holding still in the center of the rink where he'd gone down to one knee, right hand holding him up on the ice. The audience roared their approval, and the two teens clapped along with them. Yurio smirked devilishly though, "I can't wait to see how people react. It was one thing for us to mess with people off the ice, but this was technically on it. I'll bet social media's gonna lose it, wondering who you are and where you came from."
"Well, if my hair doesn't give me away..." Nikki teased, pulling at a few strands of it, "Papa told us how the media went crazy at the World Championship last year. They pulled him out of the audience and everything."
"Oh, did they?" Yurio thought back, "It must've been early on. I wasn't paying any attention then."
"Papa has kept us away from the reporters so far. Maybe he'll change his mind."
"Maybe." The older teen agreed, watching as Otabek came off the ice and was reaching for blade-guards and water, "Are you guys coming to the Banquet after?"
"Banquet?"