CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED THIRTY ONE

v-nikiforov
Viktor Nikiforov
[photo: Viktor and Yuri in front of YuTopia with new coats on (actual pic on NAD FB page)]
18,412 likes
 v-nikiforov So this just happened. y-nikiforov
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 phichit-chu I'M SCREAMING
christophe-gc What's the phrase about how revenge is best served? Oh right, with fava beans and a side of Yuri. I mean, a nice Chianti. #whynotboth #RSF #shitjustgotreal #popcorn
yuri-plisetsky Saw this coming a mile away. Whoever in Russia isn't grey already is about to be.
mila-babi Should I be jealous? I feel like I should be jealous. Are you going to Japanese Nationals to compete now or is this just for the Game? #IsThisTheRealLife #IsThisJustFantasy
viktuuri REMEMBER THESE FOR CENTURIES #RSF #newjackets #SkateHusbandsForJapan
3 hours ago

Yurio chewed idly on the end of an apple slice, scrolling through endless new comments from both skaters and fans alike. The more he read, the more unbelievable it seemed. He huffed a quiet sigh to himself and shook his head.

"Yuri, serʹëzno, čto slučilosʹ?"

Green eyes lifted past the edge of the phone, spotting Mikhail coming into the kitchen where Yurio was still loitering. He pulled the fork-skewered bit of apple away and gestured with that hand to the device in the other, "Viktor was offered a spot on Team Japan."

"Huh..." The elder mused to himself, reaching for the handle to the refrigerator to pull it open, "Guess he made good on his threat from last year."

"Seems so." Yurio agreed, "Maybe it was just a matter of time."

"You seem disappointed." Mikhail added, pulling out an eggnog carton...or what was left of it. He made a face at the thin line of pale yellow liquid barely clinging to the bottom, and muttered to himself about how Just because there's some left doesn't mean it's worth putting back.

"Viktor was going to be my only real competition at Nationals. It's going to be just as easy as last year, when he wasn't there either."

With aught else to do, Mikhail committed the cardinal sin of drinking from the carton; though that could be contested, considering there was only an ounce to sip from it. He stepped over towards the sink in the midst of the massive island counter, just next to where Yurio was leaning with his half-empty plate of sliced apples, "I think Viktor's Yuri is rubbing off on you. Only he would complain about something like that."

"Why would he? It's only recently he started winning Gold at all."

"He'd feel bad crushing everyone else," The elder pointed out, rinsing the plastic carton before casting it into the recycle bin, "When I was researching my nephew's exploits before, I looked into Yuri's as well, just to see what came of Viktor's coaching methods. Yuri set a new personal best, and outclassed his competition by miles, even against a kid who beat him at Nationals by a similar berth before that. The spastic kid with the yellow and red hair from the wedding party."

"I know who you mean."

"At any rate... You may come with different mind-sets, him for guilt and you for disappointment, but you both feel the same way about these local competitions. It's too easy to win. It's an obligation, so you can go on to the competitions that matter." Mikhail went back to the fridge and started seeking again, now that the eggnog was a lost cause, "I'd say it's a good problem to have, because it's free money in your pocket."

"I guess so." Yurio shrugged, putting his phone into his back pocket and picking up the plate with the rest of his fruit, "Still, it would've been nice to have someone around to really challenge me. I'll have to wait till Euros."

"Are you guys coming back or not?" Nikki suddenly complained, sticking her head into the kitchen from the living-room, "Or can we start it?"

"We're coming; hold your horses." Mikhail affirmed, casting his eyes back into the cold, "Damn, I really had a hankering for the nog... I dunno what to get now..." He rubbed his chin anxiously, but then waggled his fingers at the two teens, "Go on ahead...I'll be there before the title pops on the screen."

"If I hit play, we're not going back," The silver teen warned, a smug but dubious look on her face where she peered around the corner of the wall.

"Go! Play the movie! I can't pick when you're hovering!"

"I'm not even in the kitchen." Nikki teased, though finding herself corralled by the Russian Tiger as he moved out. She felt a single finger against the small of her back to push her forward, and she skipped out of its reach once she found her footing, all but dancing to her spot on the long L-couch. The spot she'd just gotten up from, with the remote and pillows and blanket, was closest to the hall, and had an extended footrest area that stuck out partly into the middle of the room. About ten feet away, at the corner of the big couch, Viktoria was already hunkered down in her own movie-watching cocoon.

Yurio parked himself directly in the middle of the two, crossing his legs as he sat back against his cushion, and pulled a blanket over his head that had been waiting for him. He pulled a big, though stiff pillow onto his lap to use like something of a table, and set his plate there to continue his slow nibble, "What are we watching anyway?"

"'Frozen.'"

The Russian Punk whipped his head around so fast that the blanket-hood fell away, and he stared at the younger girl incredulously, "You can't be serious."

Nikki was nearly dying already, unable to hold in the laughter as she burst with mirth and rolled off the end of the couch, falling to the floor with a squeak. Still, she kept laughing, even as she tried to get back into her place, "Oh my god...that...was so worth it..."

Yurio just glowered at her, "So...we're not...?"

"Oh gods no," She answered, flopping back into her spot like a drunk seal, "I just wanted to see the look on your face."

"We're watching a horror thing called 'Dead Silence.'" Viktoria explained, quelling the Russian's fear of being punked a second time with the opening of some other Disney film, "I saw a trailer on YouTube and it looks pretty good."

"PAPA WE'RE STARTING." Nikki yelled, waving the remote around, "3...2...1..."

"Okay okay okay I'm here jeeze!" Mikhail rushed in, then rushed back out, hit the lights in the kitchen, came back, and finally collapsed into his section of the couch; a pair-end like the spot Nikki was occupying, but at the end of Viktoria's side, closer to the television than the rest.

The younger teen leaned slightly towards Yurio, whispering behind her hand as the screen went dark and the 'do not duplicate' warning faded in, "One way or another, he'd make us start over if we started without him."

"But he said he wouldn't."

"That's your first mistake...believing him. At least, when it comes to movies. He says he won't make us rewind, but if we don't, he'll spend the whole movie asking questions, and we end up rewinding it to the start again anyway." She explained, "He did it to us once when we were watching one of the 'Star Wars' movies, even though he'd seen it already."

"Why would he ask questions about a movie he's already seen?"

"To make us go back to the start." Nikki snickered, then sighed, rolling her head back against the pillow behind herself, "If the first rule of Fight Club is 'never talk about Fight Club,' then the first rule of watching movies with that guy," She pointed the remote at her father, "...is never start without him."

"So what happens if you go to a theater and he steps out at the beginning?"

"We don't let him leave." Nikki huffed a quiet laugh.

"Are you two talking about me behind my back while we're all in the same room?" Mikhail wondered suddenly, glaring at the two.

"Sure are, papa."

"Yup."

Mikhail narrowed his eyes at them, but just brought up the lip of a bottle of hard apple cider he'd found, "...Proceed."

.

"Bože moj!" Viktor whined dramatically, throwing his arms up into the air and flopping to his back. Stretching them way above his head, he held, and then relaxed, looking up at the ceiling.

Yuri glanced over, spotting the colorful kotatsu in place of the coffee table from where he was in the kitchen, "Trouble already?"

"...All this stuff they want me to fill out..." Viktor sighed, "I've never had to fill in so much paperwork in my life. They want me to put together a resume, too...I don't even know what to put!"

"Have you ever made one before?" Yuri wondered, pouring boiling water into a ceramic teapot with two bags of oolong floating within.

"Never needed to." Viktor sulked, throwing his arms up in an arc to thrust himself back up to sitting. He stretched his right leg out, foot poking out from under the blanket that kept the heat in, "What kind of resume does an athlete even make? Especially since the JSF already knows everything about my history...it's not like I really need to impress them. I already passed their tests. I'm just doing this as a formality..." He looked down on the stack of papers just to his right, then to the MacBook Air he'd borrowed from his spouse, "It's still a hassle though."

Yuri came around the big kitchen island, carrying the ceramic teapot and two small ceramic cups. He set them down on top of the kotatsu, glancing to the left where Makkachin was lying on his back, whole body save his head under the blanket, "Where's Jiro?"

"Here." Viktor answered simply, moving a pen up to his lips and chewing the tip of it idly, eyes still on the bright screen.

Bending down, Yuri lifted the blanket, and glanced within to spot Viktor's left leg, bent at the knee, with Jiro nestled comfortably against the crook of it. One ear twitched, but the pup didn't wake up, so Yuri smiled and set the blanket down again before more heat could escape. He took his place in that same spot, wrapping the blanket over his crossed legs and around the small of his back as far as it could go, "What do you have so far?"

"The honest truth." Viktor answered, pulling back off his elbows and gesturing at the laptop so his husband could pull it around. The look on Yuri's face when he read it was enough to make the Russian self-conscious, "Perhaps it's too blunt...?"

"Maybe if you enlarge the font size, it'll take up more of the page space, and you can trick the reader into thinking there's more than there really is." Yuri answered.

Viktor Konstantinovich Nikiforov
5-78 Shounanchou, Hasetsu-shi, Saga-ken, 847-0021, Japan

Summary of Qualifications:
-Figure skater

Pertinent Experience:
-Figure skater

"You've been working on this for the last 45 minutes." Yuri went on, "I thought you'd have a little more...ahh...substance than this."

"Like I said...I've never done a resume before." The Russian whined, leaning forward and thumping his head on the hard-top of the kotatsu table. He suddenly jumped up though in revelation, nearly slamming his hands down, and scaring both woofers in the process. Makkachin was across the room in a fright, looking like he'd put his paw in a power-outlet for how frizzed he was. Jiro yelped and tumbled under the table, frantically trying to get under Yuri's side, "Ahhh I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Viktor lamented, getting up from his seat to find his own pupper while his husband calmed the one next to himself.

"Easy," Yuri whispered, lifting the heavy blanket up enough for the Akita to wiggle his head out. He lifted the pup in his hands and moved him into his lap, setting the small dog to lean his back against his stomach, paws up on the edge of the table as he looked on at the Mac, "I can tweak it for you if you want, Viktor."

"Would you? I was about to beg for the favor when I scared the ghosts out of the kids." The man answered, sticking his head up from where he'd ended up under the kitchen table with his poodle. He turned back again, patting Makkachin's head, "Will you come out now?"

Dark brown eyes gave a look like 'I will not soon forget this betrayal,' but the dog eased out from his hiding place, and Viktor followed, scooting across the hardwood floor until it changed back to carpet, and he wiggled in behind his spouse. Yuri was already typing rather quickly, and more information had been added than the Russian had ever considered mentionable in such a document.

Viktor Konstantinovich Nikiforov
 5-78 Shounanchou, Hasetsu-shi, Saga-ken, 847-0021, Japan

Summary of Qualifications and Achievements:
 -Internationally acclaimed Figure Skater with 16 years professional experience
-Five-Time Consecutive Gold Medalist at the World Championships, Grand Prix Final, and European Championship, with more than 50 Gold medals and 12 Silver medals at assorted (Junior and Senior level) Domestic and International ISU-recognized competitions
-Current reigning Olympic Champion for Men's Singles with 2 Olympic Gold medals (2014, 2010,) 1 Team Event Gold medal (2014,) and 1 Team Event Silver medal (2010)
-Undefeated Russian National Champion for 12 straight years, 2-time consecutive Russian Junior National Champion
-Holder of 22 World Records (8 in SP, 9 in FS, 5 in Combined Total) including highest number of quadruple jumps in a single program (8) and highest score in the Short Program (122.43)
-At age 16, became the youngest male skater to ever score a perfect 6.0, with a total of 71 scores of 6.0, before the new Code of Points judging system was implemented
-Six years experience as a Choreographer with medal-winning performances to several athletes
-More than one year experience as a Coach, with credit to 6 Gold medals and 2 Silver medals

Viktor's eyes moved back and forth across the screen, widening a little more with each pass, until eventually reaching the bottom, "...It took me so long just to get 4 lines of text...4 lines I agonized over...and it took you all of 2 minutes to write all this." He said starkly, cozying up behind his partner and wrapping both arms around his sides, clasping his hands lazily in front before setting his chin on one shoulder, "You should get a Gold medal for resume writing." He teased.

Yuri huffed and shook his head, leaning back a little, "This is everything I could think of off the top of my head," He explained, resting his hands over his spouse's forearms, "I'll have to go digging into the books to find all the specifics of your timeline, so I can put it into the Experience and Training section. Even if no one ever really reads it, it should look impressive."

"It's almost as impressive as the trophy room."

"Maybe we should just tape a picture of it to a letterhead." Yuri laughed, leaning his head back, "Write in sharpie above it 'Behold My Works, Ye Mighty, and Despair.'" He suggested, moving his hands up and out in a slight arc in the air for dramatic emphasis.

"We should do that anyway." Viktor added, hugging a little tighter and nosing the side of his partner's neck.

Jiro slumped back as Yuri leaned away, and the pup flipped over in his lap, stepping up to bark once in his tiny little puppy voice to get their attention before nosing at Viktor's hands. The Russian acquiesced and ruffled the dog's ears affectionately, satisfying the pup into lying down again where he stood.

Yuri brought his hands back around, one settling on Viktor's and the other on Jiro's back, "It's been two days since the JSF signed you on and I can still hardly believe it."

"Same." The silver genius nodded, pressing his nose to the shoulder in front of him, "Those few days after we got back, and I couldn't sleep because of how upset I was...and then I couldn't sleep because of how excited I became. I never realized how badly I needed something like this until it happened."

"Yeah?" Yuri turned his head slightly, rubbing one ear against his partner's hair.

"Mh." Viktor answered simply, "I told you once before that I wished I could skate forever. Now I feel like everything's been reset somehow...like I have a second chance."

Brown eyes squinted in confusion, and Yuri twisted to look at his partner more directly, "It's not like you messed things up before. Your career is legendary. Most other skaters look up to you, and watch videos of your shows like they're instructional."

"Sure, but..." The Russian's words trailed a little, and he sat upright, then back, pulling Yuri with him until he was tilted against the couch just behind himself. Blue eyes closed for a moment, then opened again and looked towards the ceiling, "I was doing all that on my own. Now I can actually share it with someone. It's not just my achievements and your achievements anymore...it's both of ours."

"I thought we were in this together already." Yuri wondered, turning his head up against his husband's chest to see him better, "Like you said last year, about being able to see the playing field from your same level, instead of from somewhere far below yours, like how I used to be."

Viktor looked down to meet that confused face, and he lifted his left hand to gently pat that raven hair, "Da, ljubovʹ moja...and I still feel that way. But now it's a little different...it's even better. We're not just standing on the podium together anymore; we're representing the same team. More than that, though...unlike in Russia, we're free to be ourselves here. When you bowled me over in front of the JSF President, I was half a second away from having a heart attack, because of how things went down with the RSF press corps. But then I remembered, she'd actually referred to you as my husband before that...and it was okay." He explained, half-inspecting the three thin pink lines on his husband's face and forehead; all that now remained of his devastation from the Final, "Up until just 2 weeks ago, I'd spent my whole life with a thorn in my side...one that my father had placed when I was just a kid. A thorn that made me scared of skating, and then scared of being good at it...and when I finally got over that, a thorn that made me nervous to love you openly when we were in St. Petersburg. I was so scared, I wasn't even aware of it...avoiding you in public was just an instinct I couldn't control. A reflex almost. But I don't have to worry about it anymore. Who cares if the RSF press doesn't want to talk to me? I'm not trying to impress them anymore."

"...That's true." Yuri agreed, relaxing and closing his eyes under his partner's soothing touch, long perfect fingers weaving through his hair like a wide-toothed comb, "The worst we ever experienced in Japan was the big misunderstanding at our wedding party, when the JSF media turned up and made it all weird for a little while."

"Misunderstanding at our wedding party...?" The Russian echoed in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"The way I went out into the rink and had Yurio yell at everyone to be quiet so I could speak...and then told everyone what the occasion was, and that they could stay or go, but that I wouldn't tolerate any criticism. Not here; not in my rink, not in my city."

"...Mhmm?"

"I realized...around the moment when I jumped on you...that the JSF media wasn't being weird about us because we'd gotten married. It was because of something so much simpler than that. Something I should've known all along...but maybe I was away from Japan too long to have that same mind-set."

"You're confusing me." Viktor said, that heart-shaped smile hiding his perplexity.

Yuri gently waved his head from side to side, then twisted his entire frame, until he was resting his side and shoulder against his partner's front, "It was typical Japanese modesty."

"Yuri."

"I'm serious!" He huffed, "They weren't reluctant to film us because of our wedding...they were reluctant to film us because they thought they were being rude to us!" He paused only for a moment as he felt Makkachin thump against his back, lying down with a haroomph just behind him suddenly. Yuri glanced over a shoulder to spot the woofer, but then looked back into his husband's bewildered face, "They showed up because of all the skaters that were around, and thought that we were setting up another impromptu skating competition, like 'Onsen on Ice,' only without the pronouncements ahead of time." He paused, thinking, "Well...maybe just not from us. By the number of people who turned up, I guess rumors spread enough to count for something. But anyway, they turned up thinking it was a public event, and then it turned out not to be. They got all gun-shy because they didn't want to intrude on our special occasion, since they hadn't been specifically invited. But when I went out there and yelled that people could stay or go, but they'd have to be nice if they stayed...the JSF media realized they could stay and were suddenly really excited about things. It was less about me telling people to not be jerks as it was the JSF realizing they had our permission to be there at all."

"...I guess we could've avoided the whole problem by inviting them in the first place." Viktor added ponderously.

"Well, it wasn't our event to invite people to. We didn't even know what was really going on until they let us into the Ice Castle. ...But, yeah...if the triplets and the rest had sent for them on purpose, it may have spared us the awkward interactions, and my jumping to conclusions unfairly."

"That's my fault." The Russian sighed, "The trouble we went through in St. Petersburg rubbed off on you a little."

"It's fine. It's how we learn." Yuri reassured, reaching up his right hand to brush the back of his fingers against the edge of his partner's chin, "And we got some really great footage from them out of the deal, so it turned out well in the end."

"We should do another photobook!" Viktor suggested, suddenly getting excited again, "Now that we're both on Team Japan, we could put together a Japanese themed gallery! I used to do photoshoots with sports and fashion media in Russia all the time, but it's been ages! You could do one too! I've no doubt that there are agencies out there just dying to put your cute face on a magazine cover."

Yuri's cute face just went bright red at the thought of it, "...I-I guess..."

"As your coach, I insist on you putting yourself out there!" The Russian went on happily, "I'll take care of all the arrangements! Mizuno will be the first! As a major sponsor of the JSF, you already wear their gear officially...why not model it for them, too!?"

"...Viktor...!"

"Maybe they'll even want pictures of me! Since I'm wearing their stuff too now!" He glomped his partner excitedly, "And they can take pics of us with the doooggsssss!"

"...V-Viktor...!"