Yuri's shoulders twitch in a shrug of acceptance. At least the Katsudon doesn't look as disoriented anymore -- he can probably take care of himself from here. (Probably.) And considering how his own hip is starting to throb, it might be a good idea to get some ice from the bar when he takes the tray back.

'Yakov's room is two down from mine, to the left as you leave,' he says. 'Though he'll probably be stuck dealing with some of the old drunks from Rostelecom and Minisport tonight, and he sleeps like the dead, so unless you have an emergency you're better off waiting until morning to talk to him. We'll be down in the lobby early -- don't think we're going to come kick you out of bed.'

Rostelecom and the sports ministry. Yakov had mentioned to him that regardless of the outcome of the cup, the sponsors would want to speak with him and Mila after the free skate...with a look in his eye that said that Yuri would be in serious trouble if he was anything less than scrupulously polite during their conversation. Bad enough to be in third after the short program, with a fall right at the start. Worse to think of how polite that conversation will have to be if he can't place higher in the free skate.

(And if Katsudon doesn't qualify -- )

There's a confusing mass of something weighing on his chest, something that's probably nerves and definitely exhaustion and more than a little bit mint-scented, and he's already babbled about enough things tonight to have him cringing everytime he replays this little tea party in his mind. So he sticks with the simple, the basic, the obvious:

'Do whatever you have to do.'