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It was at the World Championship that Yuri skated under his new name for the first time. When the roster was announced there was a flurry of media panic. Tabloids asking ridiculous questions like “did someone put Yuuri Katsuki in twice?”, “Had Viktor and Yuuri eloped?”, and even “Had Yuri Plisetsky suddenly quit figure skating without a word?”
The sports world buzzed in the weeks leading up to the end of season event. The Katsuki-Nikiforov family had decided to wait to issue a formal statement until the actual competition, preferably after the medal ceremony if possible. Viktor did say surprising the audience was a key attribute every skater should have. And so, when the little family arrived at the rink in Helsinki, Finland, it wasn’t a surprise when a swarm of reporters descended upon them, Yuri in particular. The small family had managed to evade the camera upon their initial arrival, but now the competition was in full swing and the media was basically unavoidable.
Yuri had been watching Viktor skate his short program, standing by the boards alongside Yakov when a swarm of reporters descended on him like a flock of vultures, just as the Russian coach had stepped away for a moment.
“Will Viktor Nikiforov take over as your coach once Yuuri Katsuki retires?”
“First of all, he’s basically Katsuki-Nikiforov by now, you halfwit. Secondly, this may be Viktor’s last season but it certainly isn’t Yuuri’s,” the teen defended, his tone mocking the man.
“Katsuki performed well this season, but he is on the higher end of the age spectrum, and he’s never been that fierce of a competitor,” another reporter cut in.
“Do NOT talk about him like that,” Yuri growled, his hands balling into fists at his sides. It took all of his self restraint to stop himself from wailing on the two ignorant reporters.
“Yuuri Katsuki is one of the best skaters in the world. He works harder than anyone I know, probably even harder than Viktor, he just broke one of the old man’s world records at the Grand Prix Final. And you know what? He is the BEST dam that I could have ever asked for! My parents will kick everybody’s asses and then I’ll kick theirs, mark my words!” The proclamation spilled out of Yuri’s mouth faster than he could process what he was saying.
“You-your parents?” The first reporter stuttered.
Yuri's face flushed a bright red as he moved to turn on his heels, swiftly uttering “no comment.”
“Mr.Plisetsky!” Another reporter called as they caught up with the blonde.
“That’s not my name,” the teen growled, grabbing ahold of the offending reporter’s microphone. “I’m Yuri Katsuki-Nikiforov, and I need to go warm up,” the blonde declared as he pushed past the gaggle of reporters.
The stadium seemed to erupt all around Yuri as he stalked off towards the locker room. They were headed towards the kiss and cry as Viktor had just come off the ice.
“Yuratchka!” The older Russian called, waving both his hands over his head in effort to get his pup’s attention.
“Nice job, old man,” Yuri mumbled as he wedged himself between his parents on the bench.
Viktor wrapped a protective arm around his pup’s shoulders, squeezing the teen tightly against his side. The alpha’s chest huffed as he waited expectantly for his score. This would be his last competition of his last season. The little family waited with bated breath.
Yuuri tucked a stray piece of hair behind his pup’s ear, carefully rubbing some of his scent onto the unruly teen. The Japanese skater could tell the boy was anxious from the way he felt his shoulders tightly and how he kept wringing his hands. Yuri’s body softened at the familiar touch of his dam and in turn he leaned into Viktor’s protective embrace as they waited for his sire’s score.
Viktor had skated a clean program, perhaps not his best in regards to technicality but he had skated in a way that was entirely new. His skate was inspired and beautiful, much freer than the Russian’s previous programs, and his score reflected that.
The trio sat squished together as they watched Chris skate, Yuri would be going next. The young skater was reluctant to leave his parent’s side until just before he was set to skate.
The arena shook with the sound of the announcer’s voice saying just what Yuri had been waiting for. “Next up, Yuri Katsuki-Nikiforov! He’ll be taking the ice in 10 minutes. Um, wait, uh…”
The onlookers whispered amongst themselves as reporters shared confused glances with one another. Yuri shed his track jacket and walked towards the entrance to the ice, holding his head up high and squaring his shoulders.
“Kick ass, Yu-chan,” Yuuri pulled his pup close and kissed his forehead sweetly. “I’m so proud of you.” Yuri knew he meant it.
“Go get ‘em, Ice Tiger,” Viktor encouraged, squeezing a protective hand over the younger Russian’s shoulder.
Dozens of cameras flashed around then and Yuri knew that his and his dam’s image will be plastered all over the internet surely by the end of the night, if not by the end of his performance. Even with that, the older skater’s presence was a comfort and Yuri felt at ease covered in his parents' scents.
Yuri nodded, smiled wide at his parents, squared his shoulders, and took to the ice.
“Gamba, Yu-chan!”
“Yuratchka, davai!”
As Yuri skated out towards the centre of the rink to skate his Agape routine, he remembered that this would be the last time he would skate this program for the world in a competitive setting. He thought of his grandfather, of the man’s warm hugs and how he tucked Yuri into bed at night when he was young. He thought about his grandfather’s piroshkis and when the old man had taken him to a local shelter to adopt Potya on his twelfth birthday. He thought about going for drives in that little real car, and drinking hot cocoa on the couch after practice. He thought about the picture of his dedushka that his new parents had lovingly placed on the mantle along with their other family photographs, Yuuri had even shown him how to set up a shrine.
He thought about the warmth of being sandwiched between Yuuri and Viktor. He thought about the bento boxes with special notes left inside that he got for lunch every day. He thought about the stuffed tiger he always snuggled with when he slept. He thought about his family. Yuri’s heart swelled in time with the music and he was off, skating the program with absolute grace.
Before he knew it, Yuri was pushing his arms up in the air to strike his final pose and the program was over. He had shown his true agape.
At the end of the first day of the competition, after everyone had skated their short programs, Yuri, Viktor and Yuuri sat proudly in a row behind a conference table with Yakov and Lilia as they gave the panel talk that was reserved for the three front runners. Yuri led by a small margin, followed by Yuuri and then Viktor. The teen was situated between the two older skaters as they were hounded by reporters asking far too many questions.
“You skated under the name Katsuki-Nikiforov? Why?” A reporter asked.
“Because that’s my name.” Yuri answered in a very matter of fact tone.
“And you called them your parents earlier? You referred to Katsuki as your dam?”
Yuri opened his mouth to snap at the man but Viktor quickly interjected. If Yakov had taught him anything over the years, it was how to handle the media and save face.
“After the unfortunate passing of Nikolai Plisetsky, Yuuri and I, advised by Yakov, made the decision to adopt Yuri. We felt that this would be the best choice for him both personally and as a skater rather than having his coach take on guardianship or file for emancipation. Yuuri and I have his best interests at heart and are doing all that we can to ensure that he is looked after and loved. He is truly an extraordinary young person and I am very proud to call him my son.”
The crowd erupted around them, shouting and screaming as the small family was blinded by the flashing of dozens of cameras. This would definitely end up all over the internet and no doubt the Russian sports news channel. It was a good solid statement though, run through with Yakov prior to even arriving for the World Championship.
“Mr.Plisetsky- er, uh, that is to say, Mr.Katsuki-Nikiforov, how do you feel about being adopted by fellow competitors?” Another reported piped in, shoving her microphone towards the blonde.
“Viktor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki have adopted me. I’ve taken both their names, yes. They are more than competitors to me. They’ve taken me in and cared for me far better than most parents do for their biological pups. They are my pack. Now if that will be all, I’d like to get on my way. I’ve had a long day and I’d like to relax with my family.”
Viktor nodded in agreement and flashed a smile before taking his fiance by the hand and leading the way out, Yuri tucked closely against his dam’s side as Yuuri wrapped a protective arm around the blonde’s shoulder. Everything would be okay as long as they were together.
The following evening the Katsuki-Nikiforovs collectively stood atop the podium at worlds. Yuuri took gold by a hairbreadth, Yuri won silver, and Viktor had the bronze. By the next morning every sports tabloid had published a story about the newly formed pack, many even dubbing them “The Podium Family”.