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There’s a Difference Between a Bonaly and a Backflip
Bonaly: to land a backflip on blade(s). Backflip: a backward somersault done in the air.
Two wrongs don’t make a right. But they do make for interesting competition.
“It’s not fair.”
Yuuri shakes his head as “Yuri Plisetsky” drops to last place on the digital rankings board. He’s trailing by just a handful of points, but considering the fact that the skater just above him had wiped out twice while Yuri had landed all of his (highly difficult and technical) jumps without a hitch, the score doesn’t make sense. Luckily, Yuri doesn’t seem to upset by the low score. The cameras quickly cut away from the Kiss and Cry when Yuri offers both middle fingers in the direction of the judges. Yakov doesn’t seem too inclined to try and stop his pupil’s highly inappropriate behavior: he just looks at both hands and nods once in apparent approval.
“It’s not fair,” Yuuri repeats quietly. “That was amazing!”
Viktor nods in agreement and the grip he has on his own arms tightens in irritation. He clucks his tongue and waits to see if Yakov will contest the score.
“You should get ready,” Viktor says. “No matter Yuri’s score, you still need to skate.”
Yuuri nods. Yakov gets up and the booing in the stadium slowly turns to cheers.
“It appears as though Skater Plisetsky’s coach, Yakov Feltsman, will be making a formal inquisition about his score,” comes the announcer’s excited voice. “Let’s see what will happen.”
Yuuri glances around at the other skaters who seem to have disappointment and annoyance written all over their faces at Yuri’s score as they linger around the rink.
“I ate ice! Twice!” the skater just barely beating out Yuri’s score complains. “I deserve to be in last place, not him!”
“It’s because he threw a Bonaly at the last competition,” Viktor grumbles into the collar of his coat while Yuuri rolls his arms. “This is a sister competition. They’re probably bitter that Yuri’s trick caught international attention.”
The headlines are still making rounds around the world. Yuuri is just thankful that Yuri’s Bonaly has overshadowed his own scoring scandal. Yuri is still basking in the limelight, and Yuuri couldn’t be more pleased about it.
“Skater Plisetsky’s score will stand.” The announcer sounds resigned.
Yakov makes a grand gesture of shrugging and calling, “I did what I could” before escorting Yuri from the Kiss and Cry. Yuri looks more pissed off than upset. Yuuri hears Viktor mutter something and catches the words “bullshit” and “not fair” and “Americans.”
“Viktor…” Yuuri hesitates. “This isn’t a very important competition.” He may not have very many seasons left (this could be his last) but… “Would you mind if I…” Forfeited. Got disqualified.
Viktor smiles. “Oh, Yuuri.” He wraps him in a hug. “I can’t imagine how totally emotionally distraught you are about Yuri’s score. He’s such a close friend, I’m sure this must be tearing you up inside and you must not be thinking straight.” Viktor sighs dramatically and then holds Yuuri’s at arm’s length. “I, as your coach and loving boyfriend, can only give you advice.”
“Which would be what?” Yuuri asks with a little laugh.
“Follow your heart!”
“Our next skater is Yuuri Katsuki from Japan!” comes the announcer, and Yuuri purses his lips.
He watches Yuri angrily wave off press and other skaters before sinking into a seat near the rink to watch the remaining competition. He’s still scowling, but that’s Yuri’s default expression, and Yuuri notices that the cat plush held in one arm is being crushed. Yuri might not be upset about his bullshit score, but it still has to sting a bit to skate a good program and have it be deemed trash: that’s how Yuuri had felt when he had been scored unfairly.
Yuuri inhales deeply and then removes his jacket and offers it to Viktor. Viktor takes it and seems to be waiting to see what Yuuri will do.
“Don’t take your eyes off me,” Yuuri teases before heading for a bench and sitting down on it while his name is repeated.
“Skater Yuuri Katsuki to the ice, please.”
Viktor watches with interest as Yuuri removes his skates in record time and replaces them for his sneakers. Yuuri catches Yuri out of the corner of his eye sitting up straight and then craning forward.
“The hell are you doing, Katsudon? Go fucking skate!”
Yuuri makes his way to the gate and inhales deeply. Yuri threw a competition for him, and while Yuuri doesn’t feel obligated to return the gesture, he knows that he’d never be able to live with himself if he simply let the injustice slide without some type of comment. Yuri was right: biased judges don’t deserve to watch two Grand Prix Final medalists skate.
Yuuri stands by the wall, nods at the music director, and waits for On Love: Eros to start playing before nodding in the direction of the judges with a flirty smile and little kiss that is clearly meant to mean “kiss my ass” instead of “kiss me.” Both hands go to the rink wall, and Viktor drops Yuuri’s coat when Yuuri hops a bit and then hauls himself into a perfect handstand. Both legs fall into a split, not nearly as nice as anything Yuri could do, but it’s an impressive feat.
The stadium erupts and Viktor just watches with wide eyes as Yuuri balances on the rink wall, snaps both legs together, and then allows himself to turn sideways and land on the narrow strip of reinforced plastic. He momentarily lays himself out on the wall before kicking one leg out and up and standing. He raises both arms above his head. He backflips once, twice, and then a third time without his hands touching the rink wall. Yuuri lands solidly, cocks one hip out in a stance similar to an Eros posture he uses on ice, and then takes a large step forward, front flips without touching down, and then stops.
The arena is going crazy. Viktor is too shocked to do anything but just watch in silence. Yuuri spins around on the ball of one foot, pauses, and then leaps. That is something that belongs on ice, and Viktor can’t believe the distance Yuuri gets without any momentum from skating. Yuuri doesn’t wobble when he lands. He immediately offers another no hands backflip with some type of corkscrew and then takes a few steps and pauses. He raises both hands.
“And now for Katsuki’s dismount,” the announcer says gently.
Yuuri takes a few strong steps, flips himself once, and then purposefully veers sideways. Viktor can’t count how many spins and flips Yuuri does as he careens off the wall, but he lands on the padded floor and stays stuck as if there’s glue on the bottom of his shoes. Yuuri straightens, offers a final pose with both hands raised, then finishes with his usual Eros stance in time to the music.
“What the hell was that?” Yuri’s voice is the loudest despite the applause and shouting. “The actual hell was that?”
Yuuri rubs at his aching wrists as he heads for Viktor and his jacket. He picks it up, pulls it on, and then raises an eyebrow at Viktor.
“Viktor?” he asks. “Did I break you?”
Viktor’s jaw drops. “You could have fallen off and broken your neck!” he says before wrapping Yuuri in a hug and spinning them both around. “Where did you even lean how to do that?”
Yuuri laughs and hugs Viktor back. “I wasn’t sure I could still do it,” he admits. “But I was already warmed up so…”
“But where?” Viktor demands. “That was amazing!”
“You like surprises, don’t you?” Yuuri teases. “I’m not going to show you all of mine at once.”
Yuri is at Yuuri’s side in a second. His face is blank. “Since when the hell are you a gymnast?” he demands.
“Since when are you a gymnast?” Yuuri challenges seriously.
“You’re such a hypocrite!” Yuri says, but there’s a grin on his face while the announcer disqualifies Yuuri for not taking to the ice. “You were scared I was going to break my neck doing a Bonaly! You just did like fifteen fucking flips on a balance beam!” Yuri shakes his head and points. “That isn’t even a balance beam!”
Yuuri rubs the back of his neck while the announcer makes a call to the audience for any balance beam enthusiasts. “The chances of me actually falling off were pretty slim,” Yuuri admits. “Like I told Viktor, I wasn’t sure I could still do it, but it’s sort of like riding a bike. Or skating. Muscle memory.”
“Bull!” Yuri says. “What else are you hiding?”
Viktor nods eagerly and Yuuri just shrugs. “Like I told Viktor, I’m keeping a few surprises for myself.”
“I thought you didn’t want attention!” Yuri complains. “This is going to beat out my Bonaly headlines!”
Yuuri grimaces. “That’s… I didn’t think about that,” he admits. “I didn’t mean to…”
“You couldn’t have just offered your middle finger and gotten disqualified?” Yuri says with a wicked grin. “You just had to showoff didn’t you, get dead last but prove that you’re better than me?”
“Of course not!” Yuuri sounds genuinely hurt. “I had no intention of-”
“He’s teasing,” Viktor interrupts. “But, Yuuri, where did you learn to do all that?”
“The same place Yuri learned how to backflip,” Yuuri offers. “The gym.”