[Leknes, Norway] Standing in the hall of fame (Shishkins!)

2003 Junior European Championships

Zina knew that it wasn't doing herself any good, that it wouldn't change what had happened, but she kept replaying her free program in her head anyway on a constant loop. It was probably time to stop crying, but she was alone in the changing room of the arena and therefore no one could see her tears, or the mascara running down her face. Zinaida glanced in the mirror on the wall opposite to where she was pulling off her catsuit and pulling on some comfy leggings instead. Her make-up, once impeccable, was now ruined. The Russian artistic flyer felt cursed, her entire athletic career from the age of seven had just been one disaster after another. Of all the places to mess up her free program, she just had to pick the Junior Europeans. She could hardly believe she'd fallen on her first jump and then fell again in her scorpion position, easily one of her best elements, before she even had the chance to show off her flexibility and pull her leg higher into a needle! One more fall and she would have been disqualified. Zina sobbed once more, she wasn't worthy of being in the Shishkin family.

Zhenya was now officially the Junior European Champion. Despite the faint cries coming from the changing room suggesting otherwise, Zinaida was truly happy for her sister and very proud of her accomplishment. Unlike herself, Zhenya truly deserved that success. But at the same time, though they were sisters... they were still rivals. Somehow, Zhenya's success made her feel like she didn't even belong at the Europeans in the first place, despite having made the team. Zina sighed as she caught her own glance in the mirror, pulling a blue blouse over her head. It was complicated.

Zina didn't want to leave the changing room. She didn't want to hear the opinions of others, or hear all the congratulations for Zhenya, how proud all the family was for Zhenya, while she got left on the sidelines... again. Zina wondered how her younger brother, Ruslan saw her. Weak? Useless? Less talented than him? She hid her face behind her hands in embarrassment. Maybe that was how the family felt about her performance too. Zina could barely think about facing Valera, especially after they'd been so kind as to give her so much support and advice. They must have been so disappointed in her. There was no doubt as to how her babushka (and coach) Aleksandra felt. Her remarks had been so scathing that Zina didn't think she'd ever forget them even when she was 100 years old.

The awards ceremony was almost over though, and Zina couldn't hide forever especially since she should have really been out there cheering for Zhenya and the other two athletes. But, Zina couldn't face watching the handing over of a trophy and medal that just a few hours ago could have been hers. She didn't deserve it, but it still could have been her title, her trophy. All of her siblings had now won a competition, but Zinaida still hadn't. Maybe she was never going to. Maybe she'd have to find some other way of leaving her mark. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the end of the announcements and Zina hastily wiped her face clean of any remnants of make-up and tears, packed her bag and pulled on her trainers, the last hint of her competition attire being the hair that remained in a neat bun.

Pulling the bag over her shoulder, Zina left the changing room and went to find her family. She spotted Zhenya walking towards her and Zinaida breathed out a deep breath, fixing her face in a smile and putting on a brave face. This was Zhenya's day, after all, and Zina wasn't going to spoil it with all her troubles. "ZHENYAAAAAAAA!" She yelled excitedly, loud enough for the whole arena to hear, her bag bobbing up and down like a rag doll against her as she run towards her sister. "I'm so proud of you!" She beamed, as she enveloped her older sister in a tight hug. As she moved away, Zina's eyes couldn't help but look at her medal and Zinaida's face fell a little. She quickly caught herself though, and made a strained smile as she gestured towards it. "Can I see it?" She asked tentatively. Hopefully her family would quickly arrive and swarm Zhenya with praise so that she could be by herself soon.

Zhenya felt like she was trapped in a particularly odd nightmare. She had been third at the European Junior Championships in the technical exercise being beaten by her sister Zina who had done exceptionally well and their distant cousin Lisa Tikhomirova. Zina was in such a great shape and Zhenya had actually entered the free program, thinking that she had no chance to beat her little sister this time.

The free program had shown once again that it was only over when the last competitor had performed their free program. Zina had lost her lead and, out of all possible people Iroda had won the free program while Zhenya herself had performed a decent program that had brought her into the second place in the free program and quite unexpectedly first over all.

Iroda had not needed more than five minutes after the last scores got in to come to her and announce that she did not deserve the title, that the judges had only held her up in the C mark because of the name Shishkin. The hostility wasn't new, neither were the accusations but Zhenya already felt that she did not deserve the victory without Iroda's help. With the things the other girl had said, Zhenya was close to asking if she could still withdraw from the finished competition.

The medal ceremony felt awkward. The anthem sounded it like it was played for someone else. The gold medal around her neck was a weight that seemed to pull her down and the trophy looked like it was mocking her. Tears had rolled down her cheeks not because she felt so touched but because she felt so awkward. This was wrong. A gold medal and a European title should not feel like this at all.

When the ceremony was over, Zhenya hurried towards the changing room, eager to get away from the crowd but quite aware that Iroda would be there soon enough too to continue her work of getting her down. When she saw Zina running towards her, Zhenya forced a smile onto her face. It was not a natural smile, it was more like a grimace but she assumed it would be good enough for now.

Zina was proud of her? Zhenya couldn't believe it. Her sister had won a competition part. She hadn't been able to do that and ironically had ended up in first place all the same. She hugged her sister back, not saying anything but relieved that while they hugged, Zina could not see the pained expression on her face.

She could feel that Zina was upset and forced herself not to let her notice that she, too, was devastated. “Of course,” she said in a voice that did not quite sound like her own. “You know,” she then began, suddenly having an idea, “I want you to have the trophy.” She was relieved that her voice sounded almost normal as she said this. She held out the crystalline trophy of an artistic flyer in a needle position on a broom. “She looks like you and it's clearly one of your great movements. You won the technical exercise deservedly and you should totally have it.” She paused only for a split second before adding, “I won't take no for an answer.”

The hug had been instantly comforting and now that it had ended, Zina felt a little vulnerable. Zhenya's consent made Zina smile softly as she reached out to cradle the medal that was around her sister's neck. "It's so beautiful," she murmured, her eyes sparkling as she was completely enamoured by it. She was so captivated that Zhenya's voice didn't really register until 'want you to have the trophy.' Zina's hands immediately removed themselves from her older sister's medal as if the metal had somehow burnt her, as Zinaida's mouth gaped and she spluttered indignantly. 

She couldn't even look at the trophy being held out towards her, too busy staring at Zhenya as if she'd gone completely insane. Without even a glance at it, Zina was about to push the trophy back towards Zhenya but her sister continued speaking, and Zina found the sense to hold her tongue and remain still instead. 'She looks like you...' It was only as Zhenya said this that Zinaida dared to look at the crystalline trophy being held in front of her. The girl depicted on the trophy was performing a needle. Zina's signature move. Her hand drew up to cover her mouth as she slowly shook her head, willing herself to not show her emotions for once in her life. It meant so much to Zina to hear her older sister, idol and best friend to say that she deserved her technical exercise win, especially when she personally thought otherwise.

Zina wanted to argue, say that Zhenya was being stupid, refuse the trophy and that she deserved everything associated with her win. "But that's... I couldn't..." Zina stopped herself just in time. Arguing was going to be fruitless and a waste of time. Zina glanced knowingly at Zhenya, realising that, for some as of yet unknown reason, this was important to her. When they were alone later, Zina was going to ask for the story behind this. But for now, Zinaida very gently took the trophy from Zhenya's grasp and brought it to eye level. Zhenya was right, the needle position really did make the trophy look like her. She brought it down and cradled it in her arms as she sniffed.

"Thank you, I..." Her eyes welled up with tears and her lip wobbled as she laughed shakily. She didn't want to look upset in front of Zhenya, but Zina just couldn't help showing her emotions. "Thank you." She repeated, keeping a tight grip on the trophy as she flung her arms around her sister again, squeezing her tightly. Stepping back again, she used her free hand to wipe her eyes and give her sister a watery smile. "It's so gorgeous!"

"I hope you know your free program today was beautiful. You won fair and square with your consistency." Zina had a feeling that Zhenya wasn't going to believe her, but hoped that the conviction in her tone of voice would convince her older sister of its truth, just a little bit. "Speaking of," she began, knowing full well what she was about to say had literally zero relevance to what she'd just said, "where are the boys? And uh... Grandmother?"

After she had announced that she wanted Zina to have her trophy she could tell that her little sister had not expected this. She could see it in her surprised face and already worried that Zina would not want to take it. Zhenya looked at her scared that she'd turn this offer down. However, once her sister looked at the trophy properly, the older Shishkina felt certain that she'd take it. It really looked like it was modelled after Zinaida, after all.

“You can,” she quietly said, hoping to take a way all her sister's doubts with these two words. As she handed her the trophy, she felt strangely relieved. It was like she gave a little of the weight away that the unexpected and, according to some and also to herself, undeserved victory brought. Zina had done wonderfully in the technical exercise. There was no doubt about the fact that she had deserved this first place. Zinaida was worthy to carry this beautiful trophy, worthier than Zhenya felt she was anyway.

“Don't...” Yevgeniya started as she saw tears in her sister's eyes. “Don't cry,” she said,  feeling how her eyes, too, were watering again. Relieved that Zina went for another hug, Zhenya closed her eyes and tried to breathe calmly when she felt like bursting into sobs herself. There was much tension, before, during, and now still after the competition. The girl felt like having a good cry in some secluded corner but she knew that, for now, she wouldn't get the chance for that.

“It really is gorgeous. And now the right girl is holding it, too.” Zhenya said, trying to sound like her usual self and opting for a smile. It felt straining to do so, though. Nonetheless it felt good to see her sister with the trophy and Yevgeniya just hoped that her family would not have anything to say about her giving it to Zina. She figured there was no reason for them to be mad. They were sisters, Zinaida had been brilliant in the technical exercise and maybe the trophy helped to encourage her further so she'd be strong enough to control her nerves better next time.

She shook her head vigorously. “No,” she said pleadingly, “don't say that. It's not true. This is all so wrong.” She turned to the side to avoid her sisters gaze now, hot tears running down her cheek, leaving traces of mascara on their way. Quickly she pulled the sleeve of her catsuit over her hand to have some kind of substitute for a handkerchief and dried her face although she wasn't sure that there wouldn't be any more tears.

“I don't know where they are,” she said, facing her sister again. “I haven't seen them after the ceremony.” The girl took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I should probably get changed.” She stated, looking at her sister. “I see you've already been to the changing room. Would you come with me anyway?” She asked hopefully. Basically she was asking because she was afraid that she might end up running into Iroda there and she didn't quite feel up to facing the other girl alone. Maybe the situation would not escalate if Zina was with her. Hopefully, though, Iroda was either already out of the changing room or not yet there.

"Next year you'll be eligible for Nationals"

Grandmother's words had hung in Ruslan's ears all day as he'd watched the European championships, ever since he'd complained - quietly of course - that it wasn't fair that he wasn't allowed to compete alongside the rest of his family. Logically he knew he was too young, that he wasn't yet strong enough to compete alongside teens several years his senior, yet in his daydreams...and regular dreams, too - he was the youngest winner of nationals, qualified for the Euopean championship, taking first place across the board and amazing everyone with his skills.

And now Zhenya had done exactly that. He stood in his seat and cheered when she took the championship, saw she was so happy that she was crying. Ruslan had practised how to do that before deciding it was undignified for a boy to cry and instead when he won, he would simply look happy and pleased, while remembering to be nice to those he'd beaten to get there. What he really wanted though was to see the rest of his siblings, to ask yet again how it felt to fly in a major contest as opposed to the regionals that he had been allowed to compete in up until now.

One of the useful things about being born and raised in the sport was that Ruslan knew how everything worked. He knew, for example, that everyone would be looking at the winners and then listening to the closing speeches about how great the competition had been this year. He knew that this was the ideal opportunity to politely excuse himself, and he knew that nobody would be surprised to see him backstage, given that he'd been allowed an Access All Areas pass this year so he could get used to the environment of such a big competition. So he quietly slipped out of his seat, walked to the back of the auditorium and gone through a door marked Private that he knew from earlier explorations led backstage.

He was planning to wait outside the changing room doors, but he didn't even need to go that far. "Zhenya! Zinaaa!" he yelled in his still high-pitched voice, racing towards them with outstretched arms and practically colliding with both sisters, enveloping them in as much of a hug as a small eleven year old could manage "Zhenya, you're a champion now! Is that your trophy you got for winning? It's really pretty! Can I hold it too? Zina, your technical was amazing! It was..." he looked up at their faces for the first time and frowned "wait...are you both crying again?"

When Zhenya softly encouraged her to take the trophy, Zina wondered what their family would have to say about it. She was instantly concerned that their grandmother would want to snatch it away from her, and so Zinaida was resolved to take advantage of holding the trophy now before anyone could steal it from her (again). If she managed to get it home safely in her room, she'd place it right next to her bed so that every morning she could wake up and let the trophy push her to work harder, so that one day she could really be worthy of holding it. This trophy was her motivation to never miss her needle position ever again.

Emotions were clearly running high and Zina tried her best to keep it together as Zhenya told her to not cry. Zhenya looked unhappy too, but was apparently better at holding her emotions in. Zina reasoned that Zhenya was probably as exhausted as she was and that tensions were high. Some days were harder than others to have a sister and a rival be exactly the same person. Zina wished they could both win.

Zina's eyebrows raised as her older sister shook her head, disagreeing with her sentiments and turning away from her. "No," the younger sister stated firmly. "That's not true at all. My placing, and yours, were correct. My free program was a disaster and showed my inconsistency... Consistency which you have." Zina said encouragingly, reaching out her free hand to stroke Zhenya's arm gently. "You deserved to win, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?" She soothed, feeling her eyes stinging with empathy for her talented sister. "Just because I won the technical or Iroda won the free, doesn't mean we were better than you. A champion needs to have the full package, and we both lacked that." Zina could already tell that her words were probably going to fall on deaf ears but that didn't mean she was going to stop trying to put a smile on Zhenya's face.

As her older sister turned back around, Zina could already see the form of Ruslan approaching them over Zhenya's shoulder. A ghost of a smile appeared almost as quickly as it disappeared, happy to see him but worried about what he might say at the same time. She kept quiet, however, at least until he acknowledged them, which he wasn't close enough to do yet. "Ruslan's coming now," she began, trying to bring back the brave face she'd failed with earlier. "I expect they're all eager to get to the family dinner. I can guard the door as you grab your stuff..." She narrowed her eyes knowingly, smiling before adding, "I can check the coast is clear in the room first if you want to avoid the other athletes."

She finished just in time before Ruslan wrapped his arms around them both, and Zina let out a shaky laugh as she wrapped her arms around him in return, gratefully squeezing him. She let go as he started shooting rapid-fire comments at them. And... there it was. Zina supposed quickly that every comment from Ruslan's lips now was going be Zhenya this, Zhenya that, and... Zinaida blinked rapidly as he praised her, completely taking off guard. The unexpected praise (though Zina was certainly happy to receive it) was probably the worst thing he could have said in front of Zhenya, however, and was likely going to make her feel even worse about it.

Darn it, Zina thought, not realising her red and puffy eyes were still so noticeable. Then again, Ruslan was annoyingly observant sometimes. "Well, uh..." Zina stammered, not really sure what to say. She held out the trophy for Ruslan to hold, her eyes flicking to Zhenya's to silently ask her permission first. Tucking a stray hair behind her ear, Zina wished she could be literally anywhere else at that moment. "You'll understand when you get to compete at Europeans too, one day. It takes a lot of effort and..." Zina screwed her face up, determined not to let her crazy flurry of pride, disappointment, anger and happiness make her cry yet again, "and, sometimes it is difficult to accept when things didn't go the way you planned they would." Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she tried to force a smile at her younger brother, pleading to Merlin to let her escape.

“Zinochka, please, stop it,” she pleaded with her sister who was making things worse rather than better. “How can I be a European champion when I haven't actually won anything?” she asked, tears now streaming down her face again. “Have you seen my performance? I almost fell, too, couldn't hold the needle position for long enough. What a mockery that the trophy shows this element out of all possible ones.”

Zina announced that their little brother was approaching and soon enough she heard him call their names. She wiped off her face with her sleeve once more and turned to look as the boy that came running towards them, rescuing them unknowingly from a conversation that was not leading anywhere but was bound to make both girls feel worse.

“I like that plan,” Zhenya responded as Zina said she could guard the door. She'd take a proper shower and get nicely dressed for the family dinner at the hotel. Now she really just wanted to grab her things and get out of the stadium.

Ruslan's positive energy came like a wave over them. The group hug felt strangely comforting and at the same quite weird. Well, truth be told, right now everything was feeling weird to Yevgeniya. She smiled at their little brother as he spoke so excitedly. Zhenya was relieved that Zina chose to respond to what their brother was saying. She was so right about what she said. They had both been working so hard. Had done all their elements cleanly in practice and, then, in competition they had struggled. It was such a shame, such a disappointment and now that the tension was slowly lessening and the adrenaline was gone, Zhenya just felt terrible exhausted and sad.

She felt a little like she wasn't really part of the scene that was taking place around her. She only half listened to her siblings, stood with them and yet felt like she was somewhere else. It had felt good to give the trophy to Zina but the gold medal was still around neck and it felt surreal and heavy. “I'm not crying,” she said belatedly, her voice somewhat weak and tired. “It's been a long competition, Lanchik,” she patted him on the back. “I'll grab my things from the changing room really quick so we can get out of here.” The latter she had mostly said to Zina as she already walked into the changing room. “Just wait here, I'll be back in a minute.” she called over her shoulder as she already pushed the door open.

The young boy took the trophy as if he had been offered the most precious jewel. He held it up to the light to examine it, turned it around and examined the angles with an awed smile. Right then Ruslan thought it was just about the finest thing he'd ever seen. Oh, he'd seen trophies before, but this one was up close, and his sister had just won it and it was...real.

If only everything felt a bit more...cheerful. Zina's reply made sense. They all cried sometimes, even when they didn't mean to. Ruslan knew how it felt when it had been a long practise session, and his muscles were aching, and there was a position that just wouldn't go right and it felt as if he was never going to be as good as Rodion. He tried to save his tears for when he was alone, because he was the youngest and didn't want anyone to think he was a crybaby, or worse, for them to think it was okay for him to cry just because he was the youngest. Anyway, he had figured out why she was crying, and he realised he understood, and for that reason he wasn't going to say anything in front of his oldest sister.

"Don't call me that!" he muttered to Zhenya. He hated that particular diminutive but his big sister thought it was sweet and no matter how many times he complained, she always forgot and called him that anyway. Ruslan had to complain every single time because...well, if he didn't, Zhenya might think it was okay now. It wasn't okay, and she wasn't okay either. He didn't believe her, no matter what she said. She was crying, and it didn't look like happy crying either. The thought both confused and concerned him but before he could say anything else or even offer the trophy back she'd gone into the changing room.

"She didn't take her trophy back..." he said, confused, but only quietly, because now he was alone with Zina and he knew it was wrong to have a favourite sibling but he'd always been closest to Zina, she was the next youngest and it was only natural. "You'll win another time, you know" he said "even if you have to wait 'til Zhenya goes up to seniors, you'll win then and you'll still win at the same age she is now. She really did fly the best today, but... your technical was brilliant, you know." his voice was quiet and sincere and he knew that he was lucky. He was never going to have to compete against any of his siblings. Cousins yes, but that was a bit different, you could be a proper rival with a cousin and still love them even as you hoped they were going to lose, but he could never wish anything bad on his brother or sisters.

"Aren't you going back in..?" he asked, gesturing to the changing rooms and confused for a minute why they were standing outside. "Oh! I know!" he dropped his voice to a consiratorial whisper that could have been heard the entire length of the corridor "We're making sure that girl doesn't go in, aren't we?" All the Shishkin siblings knew precise which girl Ruslan referred to.

Zina hated to see Zhenya cry like this. She shook her head at Zhenya’s words, saddened that was how her sister felt about herself. For a few seconds, Zinaida’s free hand curled into a ball at her side. She wanted to thrust the trophy back into her sister’s arms, say ‘you won this!’ and walk away. That felt too cruel though and Zina took a deep breath to calm herself. She understood what Yevgenia was feeling. She didn’t like it, but she still understood. “I’m sorry…” Zina replied weakly, not sure what else to say that wouldn’t cause an argument. She realised they could debate this for weeks and never reach a consensus, and it was time to drop it. “At least you got into a needle…” Zina muttered before she could stop herself. She couldn’t help it, she agreed the trophy was mocking them both too.

Thank goodness for Ruslan, Zina thought, as she listened to Zhenya’s belated reply. His positivity was badly required. “I’m not crying,” Zina raised an eyebrow at Zhenya’s blatant lie. Ruslan wasn’t stupid, Zinaida knew he would catch on that wasn’t true at all. She hadn’t seen the point in lying, so she hadn’t denied it. She knew that the sting of this disappointment would take at least a week to heal from. Still, Ruslan managed to draw a smile out of Zina as he cautioned Zhenya about the use of his diminutive. She knew he hated it, and so Zina had chosen a different one a long time ago.

Zhenya was already walking into the changing room before Zinaida could even acknowledge it. “Alright…” she belatedly muttered to a closing door, turning as Ruslan softly spoke to her.

Ah. This was going to be a weird thing to explain, seeming as she barely comprehended it herself a few moments earlier. She hoped he wouldn’t challenge it, Zina liked the idea of having the trophy as motivation. “That’d be because she already gave it to me to keep, Rusya.” She spoke hesitantly, worried what his reaction might be as she tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. She looked down at the floor, her cheeks flushing, as her little brother complimented her. Zina smiled sweetly at his words, even if she didn’t exactly believe him. He was a sweet boy.

“Thanks,” she said as she affectionately ruffled his hair. “It’s nice of you to say so. But… my technical exercise still has a long way to go.” She looked at him sadly, jealous that he would never really understand this problem of wanting to win but not wanting to beat your own sister. “It’d be a nice start to perform my free program how I do it in practice for once, though. At this rate, I’ll… I’ll never win anything.” She ducked her head down as she tried to hide a singular tear that had escaped. Once again, he had inadvertently reminded her that all her siblings had won a competition, but she hadn’t.

Ha! Zhenya needed to give their little brother more credit, Zina thought. He was very quick to figure things out. She bent her knees slightly as she leaned in to give him an equally conspiratorial whisper. “Exactly! So, we have to be good bodyguards for her, okay?” She returned to her full height as she quickly glanced up and down the corridor for the offending witch. No one was there, however. “I almost feel sorry for Iroda,” Zina muttered quietly so that Zhenya couldn’t hear her from the changing room. “But…” Zinaida began, but shook her head and decided against finishing her sentence. “Never mind.” She flicked her eyes from the two ends of the corridor again, a little paranoid now.

“Are you looking forward to competing yourself?” She asked her little brother with a bright smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice the complete change of topic. It was the only one she felt safe talking about at that moment. “I remember how excited I was.” Zina smiled brightly, as she gently nudged his shoulder.

"She..?" Ruslan didn't know what to say. This felt like one of those strange grown-up conversations that went quiet when he walked into the room, except he was actually the one having the conversation. He wanted someone to explain what was going on and tell him what the right thing was to say. Zhenya should have been cheering and delighted with herself, and Zina should be celebrating with her and they should all be looking forward to sitting with the family later and talking about how well it went, but that wasn't happening. He swallowed hard. "That was...nice of her. Maybe you could keep it in the family room where we can all look at it" he suggested.

There. He hadn't asked why, and the more he thought, the more he wasn't sure he really wanted to know why Zhenya had given their sister her trophy. But now he understood why Zina felt sad. She had had some problems with her free program today, though if he was honest, Ruslan had paid more attention to the male competitors, knowing he would likely be competing with them in a few years. But that didn't matter right now. "Yes you will! You're a great artist, you know that!" he wasn't sure what else to say, knowing that to wish for Zina to win would mean wishing for Zhenya to lose. He couldn't quite bring himself to say that, even knowing Zhenya probably couldn't hear them. But suppose she could...

Being a bodyguard was a far better plan. Ruslan drew himself up to his full height, standing straight and as elegant as a young boy could look. "I'll watch this way, you watch that way" he said, going to stand staring in the direction they had come from, even though he should probably let Zina watch in the direction from where the enemy was most likely to approach. Zina could do magic, while Ruslan didn't yet own a wand. There just hadn't been time to take him to buy one in the run-up to the competition and anyway, it wasn't as if he was allowed to use it until he went to Durmstrang anyway.

"I DO feel sorry for her. Because she's ugly and her body's not properly symmetrical!" the boy declared decisively, even though he knew he was wrong on both counts. Nobody would call his sister's rival ugly, and she was a good flyer by any standards. It was just a pity she was so mean! He couldn't help himself, he glanced behind to check he hadn't been overheard, and giggled because Zina made the exact same movement at the same time.

"I can't wait! When I did the regionals and they called out my marks, it was the best feeling ever when..." he trailed off, belatedly realising that it wasn't fair to talk about how he'd won competitions when Zina kept getting such bad luck "...when I knew I'd done my best! And flying to the music, knowing everyone's watching...it's amazing, isn't it?" he asked, thinking that was at least a safe topic and something they could share. 

"Yeah," Zhenya said, sounding bitter and not in the slightest convinced. It didn't do to talk about her own disappointment though given that Zina's was at least as big. Her sister had been in first place after the technical exercise and had not got any medal in the end. Zhenya knew the feeling ending up just below the podium. She had been there at the previous European championships and had been fifth at last year's worlds. It was a different kind of disappointment though. What disappointed Yevgeniya most now was that she had always dreamed of getting her first big title and in her dream this had been entirely different. She had actually won at least one competition part in her dreams, usually both. Now she knew that in both parts she had been beaten by at least one competitor and deservedly so even if they were all rather close when it came to the points. She felt deprived of her chances to have a proper first victory. This one was awkward and she felt guilty having taken away the title from other athletes who clearly deserved it more. Her career seemed spoiled with this gold medal that seemed so undeserved and silly. People would still talk about this next year and probably call her an unworthy champion.

She merely nodded as Ruslan, once again, reminded her that he didn't like to be called Lanchik. She usually tried to avoid the diminutive for his name but right now she really hadn't given it much of a thought. She smiled at him apologetically. "Sorry," she muttered quickly, not feeling like discussing that she really liked the sound of that name and that it suited him well even if he didn't agree.

Eager to get away, Zhenya turned around to enter the changing room, leaving her siblings outside. The first thing she did was taking the medal off her neck and throwing it into her bag. Grateful that the changing room was deserted, Yevgeniya sat down on a bench and covered her face in her hands. She felt like tears were preparing to burst out again and she allowed herself a brief cry before getting out of her catsuit and into comfortable jeans and a white t-shirt. Approaching the mirror, the girl tried to fix her make-up a little but it seemed beyond help. She'd need to wash it off properly and put on new to look her best. There was not the time for this now though. Iroda could come in any moment even with her siblings guarding the door and Zhenya clearly didn't want to see her again today.

She quickly collected her clothes and put them into the bag as well before grabbing her bag and broom and leaving the changing room again. She found her siblings in conversation and felt almost tempted to sneak away. Knowing she couldn't do that, the girl approached Zina and Ruslan again and forced a smile onto her face.

"I'm ready," she said quietly, not wanting to interrupt her siblings' conversation but feeling she should announce her return although she knew they had probably already noticed her anyway. She had still caught Ruslan's last words and she nodded. "It's amazing as long as you perform well. If you feel like you couldn't do your best... well, the support still feels nice but..." she shrugged, feeling unable to find the right words to put it and looking at Zina for help.

Zina could clearly see that her brother was confused, and she smiled slightly. She didn't blame him, her sister's actions were just as a mystery to her as they were to him. As he began to reply, she braced herself for him to say something along the lines of 'Why did she do that? That's her trophy! You should give it back to her.' So, she blinked in pleasant surprise as he was rather diplomatic about it. It didn't stop her shoulders from tensing up and her posture shifting to a more defensive stance, as she automatically thought he was trying to take it away from her, by suggesting putting it in the family room. He wasn't really though, and after a few seconds Zinaida realised this and relaxed. "That's a nice idea, I might do exactly that," she replied in a level voice, though she knew deep down that she absolutely wasn't doing that. She feared her parents would take it from her if they saw it in plain sight.

His blind faith in her made Zina smile brightly as she shrugged her shoulders. The teen was glad to have him around, even if she didn't know she was as good as he thought she was. "Thanks," she beamed, "that means a lot to hear." Zina didn't believe a word he said, of course. But if he said that she was awful, well, Zina would have completely believe anything he said then. As he instructed her on how to guard the door, Zina shook her head and chuckled at his antics. "Aye, aye, sir." She laughed, giving him a mock salute as she turned in the other direction (partially, since she didn't trust him to keep the best eye out).

Rusya's criticism of Iroda made her sigh inwardly. This part of her brother was quickly concerning her and she had decided that she was going to do everything to could to not encourage it. Arrogance in an athlete was never a good look. "Ruslan," she began, using his full name to grab his attention, "that is extremely unkind, especially since I know that you know that's not true." She turned to face him as she gently placed her hand on his shoulder, eyeing him with a disappointed look. "Even if she doesn't always treat us as nicely as she should, that does not mean that we should not give her the same respect that I'd expect you to give any other athlete here." She patted his shoulder, as she let her voice lose its steely edge and she smiled at him. "You understand me?" She asked, as she heard movement from the changing room.

Zina schooled her face to remain as passive as possible as he began speaking with such excitement and passion about competing. She couldn't have disagreed more with what he was saying. She had never done her best, she hated hearing scores and of all the things, she detested having everyone watch her. The changing room door had closed again and Zhenya had returned. Zina smiled at her as she joined the conversation, grateful that her older sister had inadvertently given her more time to think of an answer that wouldn't give her true feelings away.

"Well, the trouble with artistic flying is that all those hours of training you do, it all boils down to a few minutes and it is frustrating when you train so well but you don't perform like you expect to." She sighed, feeling like she wasn't providing anything useful yet. "What I mean is, support can only help you so much with the sting of that disappointment when things go wrong. And they will, sometimes. But you must rise above them." She smiled, glancing at her siblings fondly. "Bad competitions will make you a better athlete just as much as many win. We don't mean to discourage you at all, or make you feel like you shouldn't be excited, because that energy you have is amazing, but we say it to prepare you on what to do when things might go wrong." She looked at Zhenya here for support that she was saying the right thing, since Zina felt like she was being nonsensical. "You have to keep fighting. And that goes to the both of you."

Things didn't feel quite so weird now that Zina was talking normally. And it wasn't the first time they'd kept a watch outside of changing rooms to make sure nobody else went in there, so that made Ruslan feel better as well. The boy was feeling quite pleased with himself and was determined to be the best lookout ever when his sister used his full name, something that usually meant he was in trouble or in the company of strangers. He spun around to face her, about to say "Yes, Zinaida? when the smile died on his lips.

Ruslan hated being criticised, expecially for something that could be construed as mean. He knew that deep down he wasn't being mean, he was defending his sister, and he'd been making a joke that she might be able to hear through the door of the dressing room, one that would make her smile when she heard it. Unfortunately, he also knew that Zina was right, though not quite for the reasons she was saying.

"I understand..." he muttered, feeling annoyed and struggling to put his thoughts in the right order and then, because he never wanted to fall out with his sisters, he added "I won't say it again, I promise". He even managed to smile, because he meant it, he wasn't going to say it again. It wouldn't do to be overheard by a reporter who might write down that he'd said it. Or...anyone, in fact. Champions were always...what was it? Yes! Kind in victory and gracious in defeat, that was it! Ruslan had first heard that a couple of years ago and was only now starting to figure out what it meant. In this case, it clearly meant keeping his opinion of other contestants to himself unless he was saying something useful like how their leg really ought to be straighter or that they needed to practise their backflips more in order to really be pleased with their performance.

Plus he knew that they were better than her, and that meant never saying mean things. Just because she said mean things to Zhenya didn't mean they were going to do it back...in fact, it would look even better if they were always kind and helpful to everyone, no matter how the other people behaved. The fact that Ruslan had never been in the girls' changing room for more than a minute or two at the beginning or end of a competition and hadn't ever heard any barbed comments himself didn't occur to the boy. Anyway, they were talking about flying now and that was far more interesting.

The trouble was though, Zhenya still didn't seem happy. And both sisters were talking about what to do when things went wrong, right after she'd just won the championship. Ruslan decided the best thing he could do was nod and agree, though he wasn't really listening. The idea of a bad competition was still alien to the youngest Shishkin and a lot of his family's advice still went over his head. He didn't like that feeling any more than he liked them being unhappy. "Are we ready to go now?" he asked, before realising that he wasn't ready at all, and he flung his arms around Zhenya and hugged her.

"I think you were amazing today" he told her as he hugged her, before letting her go and stepping back. "Shall I carry your bag for you?"

Zina was talking about the long hours of training and how it all came down to the performance of just a few minutes. It didn't matter how good the practice had been. In the end it was of no importance any longer. Only two performances counted towards the medals in the end and if one got too nervous or lacked focus for a split second it could all be over already. After good practice sessions Zhenya often dreamed of performing as well in competition. How many times had she imagined herself flying flawlessly, earning standing ovations from the crowd and being awarded a well deserved gold medal.

She had the gold medal now but it was not at all as she would have hoped. Her performances in the technical exercise and the free program had been decent but by far not her best. She had not fallen, at least. However, she had not performed in the way she would have thought was needed to win or even medal. It was no surprise that Iroda said that she only won because the name Shishkin meant something in the world of artistic flying. She was probably right, Zhenya felt she did not deserve this victory and she felt embarrassed to be European champion after such mediocre performances.

“Zina is right, Rusya,” Zhenya said, “there will be days when things don't quite go the way you want them to go. It's nice to have the support of the audience then but even so, you have to learn to deal with your own disappointment.” Her voice trailed off and she smiled slightly.

“You need to keep fighting, too, Zinochka,” the older girl said to her sister. “You did exceptionally well in the technical exercise. You'll get another chance next year and if you get through both your programs the way you did yesterday, you'll be Junior World Champion,” she gently patted her sister's back. “I'm sure of it. You are incredibly talented and you know it.”

She nodded at her little brother as he asked if they were ready but before she could respond, the young boy pulled her into a hug. “Oh...” Zhenya was surprised and while she did not believe a word Ruslan said, she still greatly appreciated the gesture. “Thank you, Rusya,” she said quietly, ruffling through his hair. “That would be really nice of you,” she added, nodding. Her bag did not weigh much with just her catsuit, a towel, some cosmetics and the gold medal in it. She handed him the bag while shouldering her broom.

“Let's go. I'm sure our family is already waiting for us. I expect this will be a long evening,” she said, rolling her eyes but smiling all the same. She just hoped that her family kept the praise of her down to a minimum. She didn't feel like she could cope with compliments when it all felt so wrong. Besides she was worried that Zina might feel really bad the more their family celebrated her title.

[out]

“Good.” Zina smiled, as Ruslan promised he wouldn’t say such rude things about Iroda again. “I trust you.” She added, patting his shoulder affectionately. She had a feeling that Ruslan understood her meaning, the bigger picture behind her words. Of course, Zinaida believed that kindness in sport was so important and that good sportsmanship was always a key foundation of a successful, respected athlete… but even Zina realised that the importance of this increased ever more so when their family was a major part of artistic flying’s creation. They had to be ambassadors of the sport in a way no other artist flyer could be.

As Zhenya agreed with her, Zina smiled at her gratefully. It was always nice to hear her older sister approve of her thoughts. She nodded her head along with Yevgenia’s words as Zhenya added that one had to deal with their own disappointment. Part of her wondered if her sister had discreetly directed that at herself. Zina knew she struggled with her disappointment a lot, it was her main weakness as an athlete and she was aware of that.

The reminder to keep fighting herself was needed, and feeling a wave of emotion, Zinaida gave a terse nod and a half smile. She wished no one would mention her technical exercise for the rest of the evening, but even if the younger sister didn’t think she would ever win anything (let alone Junior Worlds), but it was sweet of the current champion to say so.“Thank you...” Zina offered belatedly, starting to get lost in her own thoughts.

Zina was all ready to go, so she nodded once to her little brother. Her bag was over her shoulder already and Zhenya’s trophy was firmly gripped in her hand. A soft smile spread on her lips as Ruslan and Zhenya hugged, though she bristled as he praised Zhenya, wondering if her family would do that all throughout dinner. If they did, there was absolutely no way she was going to be able to sit through that. She briefly considered whether she should start thinking up excuses to leave part way through already, so she wouldn’t embarrass herself if she needed to leave in a hurry.

Her parents already had her broom, so Zina didn’t mind how Ruslan only offered to help Zhenya, since her bag was light anyway and Zinaida wasn’t going to be in any hurry to let go of her trophy again. “Yes, most likely.” Zina smiled, rolling her eyes along with her sister, giggling as she did so, her spirits cheered a little. All the siblings seemed to hate this part, the awkward family dinner. Why they continued to do it time and time again was beyond her. “I can’t wait to just change into pyjamas and have some ice cream in my room.” Zinaida sighed. She hoped there would be ice cream at the dinner, but was praying that she wouldn’t have to put up with an hour of constant praise for Zhenya just to get some. Even vanilla ice cream wasn’t worth that.

[out]