CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED FIFTY FIVE
['History Maker' - Dean Fujioka (0:00-1:05)]
The arena was filled with the chimes of music; an ever-increasing crescendo of sound that lifted the spirits of everyone who heard. Viktor was off like a shot as soon as it started, speeding off through the start of a half-rink-long figure-8, arcing the short end with a series of crossovers and ending it on a split falling-leaf jump at the trill before the beat really picked up. His frame bobbed and wove with the music then, twisting over himself and switching feet before coming around again as the lyrics began.
Can you hear my heartbeat?
Tired of feeling never enough.
One hand came up to the Russian's ear as he leisurely made his way forward, spreading his arms out as he tizzled away.
I close my eyes and tell myself,
He leaned forward against one blade, arcing around the curve of the rink, and lining up his first jump.
That my dreams will come true.
A quick jump, and the silver legend was spinning through the air.
Yuri blinked in surprise, "...That was supposed be a Flip...he gave up a lot of points to do a Salchow instead..."
There'll be no more darkness when you believe in yourself, you are unstoppable.
Asahi wasn't all that impressed yet, though he did internally question why the voices in the song sounded so familiar.
Where your destiny lies,
The Russian lined up with the center of the rink, pointing his blades towards where his partner was waiting on the wall, and spun around before lowering down to one knee.
Dancing on the blades,
...And thrust out his ringed hand.
You set my heart on fire!
Yuri reached back like he always did, and Viktor smiled, clasping the feeling in his palm before breaking off and spinning away again. The step sequence began in earnest then, and their two voices became a chorus together, resonating through the rafters.
Don't stop us now, the moment of truth,
We were, born to make History!
Viktor's blades made good use of the ice, sending frost flying with every quick twist and turn, arms rising and going in and away from himself. He could feel the audience singing along with the music all around him, making him feel light as air.
We'll make it happen, we'll turn it around,
Yes, we were born to make History!
Arms went up and he spun out to the side on the boom, arcing and twisting his long frame with each subsequent beat.
Born to make History!
He threw himself upward for the death drop, flying into the sit spin between beats and landing on the next, immediately twisting himself around to hold one arm above himself as the other held to the thigh of his free leg. A few spins later, he arched himself for a sit-twist variant, and ended it on shoot-the-duck before rising up again and kicking a leg out as the lyrics returned.
B-b-born to make History!
His free leg came back down behind him, and he dug a toe-pick down in the ice just as the tempo of the music changed, eyes closing, only to open them again quickly as he pushed forward.
(At 1:05, skip to 1:25, play to the end)
Can you hear my heartbeat?
The Russian's arms went up, open to the audience before he spiraled around himself, frame loose and free, like a hopeful lover lost in a trance. He brought up his right leg, swinging it out and around like a pendulum to rotate himself into a layback Ina Bauer.
I've got a feeling, it's never too late.
Bent over backwards, one arm reached towards the wall, spotting his husband again as he glided by, the world upside-down as he moved on.
Yuri shook his head and laughed to himself, waving as the silver legend went on, "...Show-off."
I close my eyes and see myself, how my dreams will come true.
As Viktor moved towards the curved corner of the wall, he leaned upright again and twisted himself around with a mohawk to put himself into an outside spread-eagle, keeping both blades on the ice rather than skating off on just one. On the last line, he hurtled himself through the triple Axel, and landed into yet another outside spread-eagle.
By the time he was down in the hydroblade, Asahi was already glaring daggers at him.
There'll be no more darkness when you believe in yourself, you are unstoppable.
Frost flew off of those golden blades, and light glinted from the silver chains woven about the Russian's waist as he rose back up to standing, throwing his free leg around and jerking sharply to force himself into a camel spin, right arm pinned close to his back as the left hung down towards the ice alongside his left blade.
I knew it... Asahi thought, glaring down bitterly at the skater, He's doing all my same moves. Every required element is copied directly from my program. This camel spin had a regular entry, so it's going to have a jumping foot-change...
Where your destiny lies, dancing on the blades,
Viktor spun on, having reached back and grabbed his free boot, pulling it close to the back of his head for the catch-foot donut variant. When he let go though, his frame straightened out, and he threw himself upward in a butterfly jump to switch feet, landing in the same spot and twisting over for the layback-camel spin to finish it out.
As he flew away from the rotations though, he brought his arms up, crossing them over his chest and bowing his head, sliding off in reverse with a few curvy arches in his wake.
You set my heart on fire!
Arms came up, uncrossing at the wrists as he reached for the ceiling, rotating in place with a tight inside spread-eagle.
Don't stop us now,
He hopped up and half-scissor-stepped forward to move off again.
The moment of truth,
We were, born to make History!
Asahi grumbled as he watched, narrowing his eyes on the Russian, All that's left is my Lutz-Loop jump combo and flying combination spin.
We'll make it happen, we'll turn it around,
Yes, we were born to make History!
Viktor was quick to make the first of those two predicted elements come to pass, dipping onto the outside edge of his left blade, and launching off with the toe-pick of his right boot as the music boomed above him, spinning four times, and landing, only to vault again for the triple Loop. Unlike Asahi's jumps though, Viktor did his with both arms in the air for added difficulty.
Born to make History!
He curved out of the jump and twisted around to face forward, but by then, Asahi had already had enough of the spectacle, and rose up from his seat. People behind him leaned far to the side to see around his sides, daring not complain to one of the competitors that he was in the way, but getting ready to try.
"Asahi-san...?" His coach's voice followed as he finally stepped off, but he only paused where he stood at the edge of the row.
B-b-born to make History!
Don't stop us now, the moment of truth,
We were, born to make History!
"I don't need to see the end of this." He commented dryly, "I already know how it's going to end. He's doing to do a combo spin with a flying entry and foot change."
"Well, sure...that's the only element he hasn't done." Sayoko retorted, "Don't you want to know the score?"
We'll make it happen, we'll turn it around,
Yes, we were born to make History!
"It's Viktor Nikiforov skating down there." Asahi said, turning his back to the rink, "I already know his score." He said with finality, stuffing his hands into his team jacket and leaving the stands, blade-guards thumping as he moved off.
Behind him in the rink, Viktor had started his last required move, and just as Asahi had suspected, it did indeed have a flying entry, lowering down to start off as a sit-spin.
Don't stop us now, the moment of truth,
We were, born to make History!
The standard sit formation was made more difficult with both hands clasped behind his back, switching then to a twist variant with one arm curving up, and the other down, around his sides. With that, he rose up, nearly dragging the toe of his free blade on the ice as he rose into a scratch spin. The foot change came into play when he dipped back down to grab the frost-covered skate and pulled the leg up behind himself for the half-Biellmann, free arm gesturing forward until the spin ended.
We'll make it happen, we'll turn it around,
Yes, we were born to make History!
Viktor twisted out of the combination spin with ease, serving from side to side before flipping around backwards again. The end of the program was in sight, all required elements fulfilled.
I think I might've over-done it with the double-tanos on the jump combo... Viktor thought, passing the short end of the rink with a series of cross-overs, Oh well...
We were born to make History!
We were born to make History!
It was all easy footwork from there on, keeping time with the beat as he curved and arced around, arms swaying in then up, down and out.
Yes, we were born to make History!
He dug his toe-pick hard and sent a flurry of ice-chips in every direction, coming to a stop in dead center again and throwing his arms out to each side, palms up as the music faded out, and the roar of the audience faded in.
Viktor eyeballed the stands, turning around to see whether Asahi was still watching, but seeing the seat empty by Coach Nagisa. He huffed a laugh to himself between breaths, but found himself smirking more than smiling, the results of his performance meaning rather little in the long run. Soft toys of poodles and bouquets of flowers were being thrown to the ice for him, and as he glided back towards the door to rink-side, he grabbed a few up, smelling at the roses in one bunch. He pulled one free and presented it to Yuri when he finally arrived, lightly squishing it against his husband's nose when he didn't expect it, "So do you think I got it?" He purred.
"I didn't think you'd switch up your whole program," He answered, going cross-eyed to look at the rose bud, but he shook free of it and handed the Russian his blade-guards, "You didn't do your Flip even once...and your Lutz-Toe became a Lutz-Loop instead. And a Salchow? Usually you leave those baby jumps for the Free Skate."
"I didn't think you were watching that closely." Viktor huffed, pulling the rubber bars on with one hand as he held his gifts up against the elbow of the other, "You did say you wanted me to score just above your friend though. It's easier if I just...do his moves." He shrugged then, trying to look innocent.
Yuri deadpanned him, "...I knew you were up to something..."
"Let's go find out how I did."
.
Unlike Yuri's interview, Viktor was paying all sorts of attention for his own, smiling from ear to ear and looking rather excitable. The whole situation felt like a completely different event compared to before. Yuri stood by quietly, waiting for a reporter to need a translation, and then offering the same thing in return for the answer. It didn't happen often though.
"What about your shift from the RSF to the JSF? What kind of changes have you noticed?" Someone asked.
"Well..." Viktor thought on his answer carefully, putting a finger on his lip, but then lifting his gaze again, "Everything about Japan and Russia is as different as it could be anyway. Everyone here has always been very welcoming and open. Back in St. Petersburg and Moscow, things were done a little differently. There was always a fine line you had to tread. On the ice, you could be whatever you wanted to be...but off the ice, you had to fit into a set ideal. I feel that I can be a bit more relaxed here with the JSF. They came and offered me a place already knowing who and what I am. I don't know for sure that the RSF would've extended the same courtesy if Yuri had been cut loose instead." He explained, rubbing his right thumb gently where he had that hand perched on his husband's shoulder, arm behind the man's back, "In any case, starting with the JSF now, I feel a whole new world of inspiration flooding in, so I want to skate competitively for as long as my body will hold out."
"Would you consider coaching or choreographing for other JSF skaters in the future?"
Viktor smiled at that, but pointed at Yuri with his free hand, "That would be something my husband will decide. He makes all the important decisions."
Yuri's face went red at that, and he smiled nervously, not wanting to contest the point on camera. Mercifully, before anyone could grill him on the future of those possibilities, he felt a buzz in his coat pocket, and withdrew his phone to see [Incoming Call from Yuri Plisetsky] on the face of it, "Oh...speaking of the RSF..." He held it up to Viktor, "Can I take this?"
"Sure."
"Thanks," He said, bowing his head to the reporters as he stepped off camera, and pulled the phone up to his ear, "Hey Yuri! It's like you knew we were talking about you."
"...Hah? No." Yurio answered skeptically, "I heard something earlier today though that you might be interested to know. But since it's you...I thought I'd wait till after your Short Programs were done to say something."
"...Wait? Is it bad? What's going on?"
Before Yurio could answer, there was a rouse of laughter from behind, and Yuri couldn't hear a thing over the phone. He stuck a finger in his other ear, "I couldn't hear you...what did you say? The noise echoes bad in this hall."
"...I was saying about th-...why the RSF fired Vi-...you."
"What?" Yuri asked again, turning back to the group but still unable to hear, "Shimatta... Yuri, hang on, I'm gonna excuse myself so I can go somewhere else." He put his hand over the mic and lifted his head, "Viktor! I can't hear him in this corridor! I'm gonna step out! It sounds important!"
"Haaaai~!"
He started wandering off, pushing through a set of doors that lead back into the prep area. The noise didn't echo quite so badly but it was still loud there, the audience and the rink closer, barely separated by the blue curtain over the doorway. He whined quietly and looked around, but started heading off towards the changing room, "Hang on, I'm about to get somewhere a lot quieter. Sorry."
"It's fine."
He pushed through another set of doors, and then finally into the changing room, where the thicker, insulated walls made the noise of the arena sound dull and distant. Glancing around, but seeing no one, Yuri relaxed a little, "Whew, okay...I'm somewhere quiet. Say whatever you said about Viktor again?"
A pair of eyes, sequestered in one of the stalls, opened wide in surprise. Hands that were putting skates away into a bag were suddenly paralyzed.
Yurio groaned, but nodded, "I guess I'll just go to the start. The old man took us to the arena where I'd be skating, and I was on my own with Yakov, waiting to draw my name for the order of skate."
"Right."
"I heard some suits with the RSF talking behind the tables at the front of the room. They were being quiet, but when I went up to grab my number, I overheard a little bit. I think they got a hair up their ass about the protesters who'd called for a boycott of the event because of the thing with Viktor being sanctioned."
"Yeah, we heard about that too." Yuri agreed, leaning against a wall close to the door, "Viktor said he feels bad about how it might impact Russian Nationals. He hopes people will still turn out to support the other skaters like you." He chuffed a wry laugh, "He even suggested that some of his fans turn up with banners that look like scoreboards, to reflect the numbers he got here, so people there know what they're still up against."
"I really wouldn't be surprised if they do that anyway." Yurio shrugged, leaning against the wall of the practice rink as Mila and Georgi were already on the ice practicing with half a dozen others, "At any rate...one of the people I overheard was getting all passive aggressive about it, saying like 'good riddance...if he wants to be a homo with that Asian then he can do it in Japan.' You should've seen the look on Viktor's dad's face when I told them all later, bu-"
"...So the RSF fired Viktor...because of me...?"
"...Sorry, Katsudon." Yurio's tone changed, "I wanted you to find out from someone you know rather than by rumors."
"And what do you mean, when you told Viktor's father?" Yuri's brow furrowed anxiously.
"Viktor suggested he come to Nationals, remember? After they fired him, I suggested he come anyway, and he did."
"...Oh...so he's there with you guys."
"Apparently the RSF have been looking for a reason to drop Viktor for a while though." The teen went on, "They thought he would ride into the sunset on his own after he got his 5th Worlds Gold, because he had no concrete plans for the next season. It was no big deal for him to be a coach you for most of a season, since he wasn't skating, but they were kind of blind-sided by him saying he wanted to come back when we were in Barcelona." Yurio explained, turning his back to the rink and leaning against it, crossing his ankles where he stood, "They let him go to Worlds in Helsinki while they tried to figure out what to do. They were apparently pretty pissed when Viktor got the mic to introduce you for your last skate, and he got all sappy about you guys being married."
"Oh..."
Yurio grit his teeth, "There was nothing they could really do to stop him from skating. He had a perfect record, and nothing was stopping him from continuing to get Gold. But when he stepped off the podium at the Final...apparently that was exactly the excuse they needed. It gave them the perfect cover to sanction him, and then not-so-subtly suggest he not try to come back again. They're all shitting bricks out here now that he's skating for the JSF instead. Kind of puts holes in their story about his plans to retire anyway."
"...Yeah..."
"The others don't know that I'm calling you though." Yurio said, leaning an elbow onto the rink wall and glancing back a bit to watch his rink-mates, "Viktor's dad is actually kind of entertained by the whole thing. With all the problems that the RSF is dealing with since they fired Viktor, Kon thinks it's hilarious that they did all this, in effect, because of you alone. Congrats, Katsudon...you single-handedly brought the RSF to its knees. You should call up later and brag about it. Kon has taken to calling you a weapon of mass destruction. I think he's kind of proud of you, in a weird, fucked up kind of way."
"...Right..." Yuri couldn't find any other words, conflicted on how to feel about it all, "...Yeah, maybe. I'll tell Viktor. He was kind of wanting to spend some time with his father anyway, since he didn't end up going to Moscow this weekend. If Konstantin really feels like this...maybe it'll reduce tension if we do end up going to see him on our own. Apparently he was saying that I should be 'the instrument of Viktor's vengeance' and suggested I make sure no Russian ever gets Gold again."
"Yeah, fat chance of that." The Russian Tiger grumbled, "I've beaten you before."
"Hah...yeah, I know..." Yuri smiled nervously, looking up just in time to spot Asahi coming out of one of the changing booths, making a quiet but quick B-line for the door he was standing next to, "Well, anyway...I should probably get back. I ditched Viktor in the middle of an interview and he's probably wondering where I am now."
"Sure. Just don't take this whole thing personally. I think it's funny as Hell. You should, too." Yurio advised, "Or take it as a compliment or something. This whole shitstorm turned out well for you guys, so you can sit back and laugh for once."
Asahi tried to get through, but Yuri suddenly turned, putting his back from the wall to the door instead, and wedged his blade-guard against the base of it like a door-jam, even as he held the phone up to his ear still. Cherry-hazel eyes stared straight forward, looking the older skater dead-on even as Asahi started backing up to the other side of the room, practically in retreat, "Yeah, maybe we will. Talk to you later, Yuri."
"Do svidanija."
The phone call ended, and the screen went dark. Yuri slipped it back into his pocket, never moving his eyes, feeling his heart starting to race in his chest, thumping hard enough that he could feel it in his neck and shoulders.
[I can't get away from you even when I try.] Asahi said flatly, though his voice was tinged with a hint of panic, [Get off the door so I can go. I don't want any trouble.]
Yuri held his ground, even as he could feel his hands starting to shake in his pockets, [No...] He said quietly, daring to blink then, [...Maybe this is God's way of saying we need to sort this out, for good and all.]
The older figure grit his teeth, feeling a twinge in his chest to hear those particular words being said by Yuri when they'd been said by Riku first, years before. He reached to pull the strap of his bag a bit higher on his shoulder, and tried to stand a little straighter, [There's nothing to sort out.]
Swallowing, Yuri pushed off the door, trying to stand a bit straighter too. He drew in a quick breath, and dared to utter the words, [There's a lot of tension between the three of us right now. You, and me...and Viktor. He thinks he knows why. I think he's seeing something that's not there. But I want to hear it from you.]
Asahi's heart skipped a beat, and he turned side-face, looking at the baseboards and closing his eyes, trying to maintain his cool, [Fine. What?]
[Viktor thinks you're in love with me.] Yuri stated flatly, watching closely for a reaction. He saw the cringe, and Asahi's face turned slightly away from him, then the red on the man's cheeks that betrayed him.
[...I'm not.]
[...You're...lying.] He said quietly, unsure how to feel about the whole thing, [...I...can tell. I didn't want to believe it, but...you are, aren't you.]
Asahi kept his eyes down and closed, teal strands of hair hiding his shame and anguish, but it couldn't stop the tears forming, [...It's nothing I want to talk to you about.]
Yuri sighed, feeling where his arms were pinched close to his sides, [This has to stop. If we don't figure this out now, it can only get worse for everyone.] He explained, [...This may be the only time you ever get me on my own to be honest about what's happening.]
The older figure brought his free left hand up, rubbing his eyes against his palms as he tried to compose himself. He rubbed his nose on the back of his wrist and drew a shaky, nervous breath, [...Fine. If that's what you really want...]