Chapter Text
This is how it begins.
Nikolai Morozov is an unforgiving coach and hard to impress if you aren’t one of his favorites, and Javier definitely isn’t. The older man whistles and says, “That kid has quite the triple axel.”
Javier looks up to find a scrawny Japanese boy in the middle of his short program covered in feathers and sparkles and many, many colors. The program ends, and the boy does a strange cross between exhausted flailing and bowing as the announcer repeats his name. Yuzuru Hanyu.
Sighing, Javier studies Morozov out of the corner of his eye and sees the excited light on his face. Sometimes it feels like Morozov just enjoys collecting good skaters, adding their names to his ever-growing list of achievements. Javier is here, but he doesn’t think he can be considered an achievement.
“What an ugly costume,” Javier finally says, turning on his heel and heading for the locker rooms.
Away from Morozov’s running commentary on other skaters, from the overwhelming stands, from the way the rink seems so intimidating once it is cleared. Empty and vast, waiting to be filled by something striking and beautiful. Something like the boy’s triple axel. Not Javier and his rather lackluster skating career up to this point. He spares the young Yuzuru Hanyu one last glance and hopes, both selfishly and selflessly, that he never ends up on Morozov’s list either.
This is how it begins.
It doesn’t.
—
This is how it actually begins.
It’s some time in March of 2012 when Brian asks Javier, “Do you remember Yuzuru Hanyu?”
Javier nods, setting his water bottle back on the bench. Who doesn’t remember the young Romeo of the World Championships?
“He’s asking me to be his coach. He wants to come train at the Cricket Club, but I’m not going to confirm anything without everyone’s okay.”
Javier can’t help but smile. He wonders how much of this conversation is because of Morozov and Florent. Javier likes to think he’s matured quite a bit since those days, but he won’t deny that it’s nice to be validated.
“Sure,” Javier shrugs. “I don’t mind.”
Brian looks visibly relieved, and Javier knows that he gave the right response. Besides, Javier remembers that performance, that passion and anger. The young skater threw himself into every jump without any sign of hesitation. He really was Romeo, seventeen and desperate to prove to everyone what he was made of. They could only watch as he put his entire heart out there on the ice to be judged. It was a much needed reminder of why Javier still loves figure skating the way he does after his own less than stellar long program.
Javier pushes away from the benches with grin. Yeah, he certainly wouldn’t mind seeing that again.