(Author's Note: Please read this on AO3 so you can see the artwork that I did for this update.)
CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED NINETY SEVEN
Left toe-pick down behind the right blade, Yuri bent his head down, closed his eyes, and tried to ignore the pit growing in his stomach. It was weird, on so many levels, to be performing to the music he was about to hear overhead. Not just because of what the song meant, and what it had meant to Viktor himself in the past, but the fact that he'd stepped into the rink without the Russian to send him off, and the man himself was nowhere to be seen. For a moment, Yuri cracked his eyes open again and looked down at himself, seeing the blue jacket with its rhinestones shimmering under the spotlights, the silver cords that hung in front of his chest and stomach, as well as over his left shoulder.
I've never done this show on my own, in its entirety, while in costume like this. It was always with Viktor... But now I'm here, and I don't even know where Viktor is right now... Probably still with Asahi in that empty meeting room, and has no idea that I'm even out here.
Viktor was barreling through the corridors, looking outside through the glass doors as he flew past, scanning every face he ran by. None were Yuri. None were familiar.
The soft sound of clarinets hummed overhead, three notes, each slightly lower than the last. Yuri raised his head and opened his eyes, and brought his right hand up to the side of his forehead before dipping down and turning in place. As he faced forward again, he reached with his right arm into the air ahead of himself, and toed-off on his left blade to glide after it.
Sento una voce che piange lontano
(I hear a voice crying far away)
Still running though, the Russian wasn't anywhere close...and his ankle was starting to remind him of that fact. Every stomp down of his heel against the floor send a deep aching jolt through his whole foot, but instead of dissuading him from his search, only spurred him to find Yuri faster. Without finding the man in the main halls, he pushed into the doors to the prep area, and burst through the door to the changing room where he thought his partner might've been taking his skates and costume off, "Yuri!?"
No answer.
"Blyat!" Viktor barked to himself, leaving again, but feeling that ankle twinge and buckle under him as he twisted and tried to step away. It was enough to hobble him, and he reached for it with one hand before pushing his back against the closest wall. A few eyes noticed him, but he wouldn't look back, pulling his phone out instead. He had his husband's text message history loaded and was about to thumb a few words to send when he suddenly heard a familiar tune.
Anche tu, sei stato forse abbandonato?
(Have you been abandoned as well?)
Yuri's frame twisted to the calm of the song, until he dipped down on an outside left edge with his right leg kicked out behind him, and jabbed the toe-pick down hard, launching himself up. Almost on instinct, both arms went up above his head, fingers laced together before parting again as he landed on the outside edge of his right blade for the Lutz.
The applause of the audience seemed foreign and distant. They were cheering for Viktor, not his copy.
Orsù finisca presto questo calice di vino
(Come now, let's empty this glass of wine soon)
Yuri shuffled around in a moving rotation as he pushed through a 3-turn, and dipped down onto the inside edge of his left blade, kicked off, spun four times with his arms up like before, and landed on the outside edge of the right.
Viktor was only barely arriving at rink-side by then, the audience's cheering echoing all around in the dark. He pushed the curtain aside, and spotted that unmistakable costume on his husband's frame, gliding across the ice, alone. Tears immediately welled in his eyes as he approached the edge of the rink wall, and set his hands on it, "...Yuri..."
E inizio a prepararmi
(I'll start getting ready)
The younger skater twisted around immediately, arms bending up behind himself before swinging them forward, hands gesturing, pleading to the audience as he continued to turn. In the black beyond the wall, Yuri had no idea those slate eyes were finally on him.
Adesso fa' silenzio
(Now be silent)
He perked up onto his right blade, the left gestured slightly behind himself before he stepped onto it, switching to face forward. Though he wasn't going as fast as he'd like, Yuri swung that freed leg as hard as he could, throwing his arms up over his head to help build height...and substituted Viktor's triple Axel for the quad.
The Russian was stunned, and he brought both hands up over his mouth, He's making this even harder than I originally had... Yuri...!
Con una spada vorrei tagliare quelle gole che cantano d'amore
(With a sword I wish I could cut those throats singing about love)
Backward-entry camel spin, right arm dipped towards the ice as the left stayed firmly behind his back, Yuri then brought them both up, the left now pointing at the ceiling as the right clung closely against his side. Both blade touched down to the ice as he crouched slightly, still spinning, and continued on after a foot-change, rotating forward on the left golden blade instead of backward. Hands clasped behind his back for a few rotations before he straightened out again, right leg kicked out as he stood upright. One last slow spin as he pulled away from that spot, arms swinging wide out behind himself.
Vorrei serrare nel gelo le mani...
(I wish I could seal in the cold the hands...)
Yuri glided forward from there, bringing his arms back towards himself before he leaned into a curved glide, right hand reaching forward and the left blade up out back. He brought his hand back, sliding it downward in front of his neck before curving and bringing both blades to the ice. Both hands reached up above his head, and pulled them down in an anguish he was no longer just feigning for the program, dipping slightly on his left leg as the right dragged behind him.
...Che scrivono quei versi d'ardente passione
(...that portray those verses of burning passion)
He stood upright again, just in time to half-jump over himself to switch blades, step, and continued forward. He glided through a few gestures, and then suddenly threw himself into a backward flying sit-spin. Left leg was straight as he turned, right hand holding onto it, and he brought his left to point up above himself. Without roaming, he stayed in that same position for easily 10 swift rotations before slowly rising out of it. Both hands rested on his knees as he slowed down, spun a few more times, and rose up to his full height on that same blade, the left held perfectly straight to the side before setting down behind him.
Questa storia che senso non ha
(This story that makes no sense)
As Yuri's arms finished the rotation, he brought his right upward, then down again as he twisted backward in place. He knew the lines, he knew the words that were being said, and it just made his heart hurt. Tears stung his eyes, but he kept moving, bobbing through tempered gestures until he came to a complete stop on the ice.
Svanirà questa notte assieme alle stelle
(Will vanish tonight along with the stars)
He pushed off and slid forward on his left blade, reaching forward before abruptly twisting through an inside spread-eagle, and moved off again.
Viktor tried to rub his eyes, but could only manage one at a time, daring not to take them off his partner's performance, He's doing the same thing I used to do... Calling out, even though I wasn't sure anyone was listening. But he picked this show when we were still at home...and he didn't have a reason to think he needed to reach out like this yet. I wonder...what he was thinking then...?
Se potessi vederti dalla speranza nascerà l'eternita
(If I could see you from hope eternity will be born)
Yuri felt every muscle in his body trying to force him to get ready for the quad Salchow, but he resisted, making himself go for the quad Loop instead. Arms were up again for that jump as well, steadying him through the landing. He pulled them in close as he rotated and slid back around, gesturing with his right hand sweeping over the top of his head before both arms crossed and fanned out again. His eyes watched the ice as he skated forward in a slower travel, arcing only to get himself back into the wider part of the rink before he twisted forward and jumped again...this time with enough speed. A second quad Axel in the same already-hard program, with a triple Toe-loop to follow immediately after, earned him a huge applause.
"...Subarashi..." A voice said quietly, catching Viktor's attention.
He hadn't noticed, but Asahi had turned up as well, getting through the curtain without the Russian's eyes seeing the light from behind it. Viktor looked back out into the rink before he missed anything else.
Stammi vicino, non te ne andare...ho paura di perderti
(Stay close to me, don't go...I'm afraid of losing you)
Yuri had always been known for his spins and footwork, but something about his mind-set in that moment made that step-sequence a different thing than it had ever been before. It wasn't just memorized choreography anymore...it was his heart pouring onto the ice.
I never thought I'd be able to understand what this song meant to Viktor beyond his description of it. When he told me, everything between us was still so confusing... We had our rings, but we hadn't yet clarified what they meant to the both of us yet...it was still kind of a joke.
Le tue mani, le tue gambe, le mie mani, le mie gambe,
(Your hands, your legs, my hands, my legs,)
For some reason, it kind of feels like that again right now... I'm not sure where things stand anymore. He says he needs me, but he's put distance between us...like I've hurt him too badly for him to trust that I won't keep doing it.
E i battiti del cuore si fondono tra loro
(The heartbeats are fusing together)
Yuri lost focus of the ice, but he could feel his body continuing on. Muscle memory knew every micro-movement of that step-sequence, even after so many months since the last time he'd practiced it.
The last thing I ever wanted to do was cause Viktor pain... I've looked up to him for more than half of my life...the idea of hurting or disappointing him is practically a phobia of mine. I ran away from him all those times because I was scared of it... What happened to make it possible for me to not even think about how what I'm doing might make him suffer...?
No rules, no limitations...Yuri didn't even have to make a choice about it. The triple Lutz became a quad, one hand up above him as he flew. The sweat beading on his skin, and the burning ache in his legs, were completely irrelevant.
Viktor was stunned as he watched, ...He's not even trying and he's already at six quads...and the next jump...
Another quad Flip. People in the audience were starting to get up at the edges of their chairs.
Yuri reached far forward with his left hand, swept it back, and reached forward with the right, then glided backwards with both hands gesturing ahead of himself. He brought them both back over the center of his chest before reaching out again with his right...though this time, to no one he could see. He glided around himself before raking his blades hard to the side, twisting himself to face backward again for a few cross-overs at the short end of the rink. He quickly straightened himself out again, then pushed through another 3-turn...and kicked off again for the last jump of the program.
Partiamo insieme
(Let's leave together)
He turned my triple-triple Toe-loop combo into a quad-triple... Yuri... You just annihilated my NHK Rage Skate...
Ora sono pronto
(Now I'm ready)
Forward-entry camel spin, a slight dip, a hop, and a sit-spin variant follow-through, right leg sticking out as he spun. He pushed himself up slightly, keeping his leg straight as he bent himself down over it. Yuri let it go and swung it hard, jumping in place again, but this time switching landing feet, and continued on with the spin as he righted himself to be fully upright. Arms came up, drums thundered overhead, and suddenly...it was over.
The audience went mad. Screams and cheers washed over the ice like a tidal wave.
[Yuri Nikiforov skating eight quads for 'Aria: Stay Close to Me'! Unbelievable! Where was this Yuri yesterday at the Free Skate!?] Morooka yelled into his mic, [If that man doesn't win Gold at the Olympics, I'll eat my tie!]
[Morooka-san...] Oda tried to calm.
Yuri still had his elbows up in the final pose, heaving for breath as the realization of his exhaustion started to settle in. Sweat rolled down his skin, and so did the tears.
"...Yuri...!"
Hazel eyes glanced aside, but in the dark, it was hard to see. A spotlight roamed over to the rink exit though, bathing the area in a dull glow that, to his surprise...illuminated his idol's frame. Viktor had his arms up towards him, tears rolling down his own face.
Yuri snuffled slightly as he brought his elbows down, but instead of bowing to the audience like he'd meant to, all he could do was collapse down to one knee, bowing his head low as one hand braced on the ice. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes on a back of his wrist before pushing back up to his feet again, and started moving forward.
How long has he been there...? How did he even know to come out here to find me...?
The skater hesitated slightly as he approached the rink-wall, but he saw the Russian dip slightly as he stepped forward on the right. Without a thought, Yuri all-but lunged forward, getting under the man to wrap his arms around his chest, and held him up before he could fall. He felt arms fold over his shoulders, fingers going through his hair, and a wet cheek press against his own.
"I...I can't even believe you did that...!" Viktor cried, hugging even tighter then, "You said your surprise would hit me like a truck...! You weren't kidding!"
Yuri wasn't sure what to say. The words were expected...but not under their current circumstances. All he could do was clench his fingers around the back of his partner's jacket and cry against his shoulder.