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Javi is straight. But, sometimes, he wonders whether he might have a bendy spot for a certain Yuzuru Hanyu.
The random thought hits Javi as he is accosted by a blast of familiar air as he briskly walks through the front doors of the Toronto Cricket Skating and Curling Club. His head swirls with the nostalgic sights, sounds, and smells as he heads for the skating rink.
Javi is on time for practice, a habit which was hard-learned and drilled into him over the years. He chuckles slightly as he imagines the ghost of his younger self 6 years ago tracing this path, routinely coming late to practice with coffee in hand.
This is Javier’s final journey in competitive skating. He is already halfway gone from this world which has consumed most of his childhood and young adult life. He will spend the next three weeks falling into old routines, drilling down to train for the European Championships at the end of the month. Then he will retire.
Javi has been away from home for way too long.
At this point, the smells of the Cricket Club are both familiar and suffocating. Nobody can say Javier hasn’t tried to hang on for has long as possible, hasn't fought tooth and nail to stay on top of the the competitive skating world for so many years.
If Javier is completely honest with himself, a large part of his motivation had been to stay by Yuzuru Hanyu’s side. Javi thinks he knows the reason why, but he won't verbalize it, even to himself. It is an important reason, though - enough for Javi to give up parts of himself to have stayed in this world for almost too long.
Yuzu had repeatedly told reporters in the past that Javier is too nice for the sport, for competition. Part of Javi agrees with him, as this may be the reason why Javi feels so bone-deep tired. The most natural, innate part of Javi just wants others to be happy, and his greatest happiness is to bring it to others. In the past, this natural tendency was often incompatible with having the cutting drive necessary to win. Only one person can be at the top of the podium at a time.
Over the years, Javi has learned to bury parts of himself when necessary, and to amplify other parts. He has learned to embrace his competitive side. But it has cost him.
That is why Javi is already mostly gone, he tells himself. He’s done his part.
The first sight that greets Javi when he steps into the rink area is the tantalizing flash of Yuzuru Hanyu’s toned navel as his shirt rides up with particularly sharp three-turn and a casual glint of his blade. Yuzu, who hasn’t spotted Javi yet, whirls past him at a relaxed warm-up speed.
Javi feels his heart skip a beat on sight of the familiar curve of Yuzu's lower waist and hips, and part of him wonders whether this thing between them will ever spill over and evolve, or whether it will quietly dim through the passage of time and distance. He thinks it will most likely be the latter, but he can't say with hundred percent certainty. He does not know which one he prefers.
Especially with this new Yuzuru, who has grown up. Javi takes a second to look.
Javi has seen the pictures of Yuzu floating around the internet. The best kept secret in the universe is that Yuzuru Hanyu is even more beautiful than any picture or video out there can ever capture. His beauty of movement and sheer joy on the ice - from the graceful bend of his back to the strong straight lines of his legs to the molten fire in his expression – cannot be captured in media. His new confidence and maturity suits him. And the force of this hits Javi like a punch in the gut.
Yuzuru Hanyu, at age 24 years old, has become a beautiful young man.
Old Yuzu was young, passionate, and protected. But in a way, his passion could only be expressed on the ice. This new Yuzu is unpredictable. He has already achieved his greatest goal of getting a second gold medal at the Olympics. He has nothing left to prove. In a way, this makes him dangerous. He still has the ice - he always will - but he also carries with him a confidence and knowledge of experience the old Yuzu hadn't had. Old Javi had been familiar with the limits and texture and of old Yuzu’s passion. It had felt comfortable, like a soft old blanket. New Yuzu has some hard edges, and Javi has yet to explore the shape of them.
Yuzu’s English and life skills have both expanded exponentially. New Yuzu also seems to know some things old Yuzu had been too innocent to know. Javi recalled with embarrassment the time Yuzu had chuckled casually at another skater's borderline raunchy joke during the summer's ice show, leaving Javi with his mouth hanging open. Or perhaps Javi's dirty mind is just filling in the blanks.
Part of Javi wonders whether something has also happened in Yuzu’s personal life since Javi had been gone. Perhaps Yuzuru has met someone.
Javi really doesn’t want to know. He's afraid to know the answer.
Yuzu has called Javi the skater closest to him in multiple interviews. Javi supposes this is true. However, here have always been parts of Yuzu inaccessible to even Javi. Nobody knows all of Yuzu except Yuzu himself. Sometimes, Javi worries for him.
Javi catches glimpses of a darkness inside Yuzu which had been virtually nonexistent when Yuzu was younger and more innocent. There is a contemplative quietness, a stillness which is too still, and the depth of it scares Javi sometimes. He feels like he can catch glimpses of it when Yuzu thinks no one is looking. Javi sometimes wonders what it would be like to seemingly carry the future of the entire figure skating world on one‘s shoulders. He wonders whether Yuzu has ever thought about the day he might stop competitive skating. Javi would select moments to touch Yuzu's back or make him laugh, anything to drag him out of that darkness temporarily. He also wonders about his own contribution to this darkness.
“We are happy for each other when the other wins. Because Yuzuru is so much a part of my skating.” Javi had told a reporter many years ago, proudly and fondly. Somewhere along the way, they had lost it. There had been a period when Javi had been bitter towards Yuzuru and had blamed Yuzuru for the growing distance in their friendship. Javi had told himself that it wasn’t his own fault they were no longer as close, after Javi had won his two world championships.
Yuzu is a competitive person, he had told himself. I can only try my best, and if he doesn’t want to be close, I can’t force him. Javi had staunchly denied to himself his own role in their distancing, and his own lack of effort to patch things up before things had festered for too long.
He, too, had been focused on winning.
Now, since the Olympics, they had been on a path to rebuild what they had left. To their pleasant surprise, they had actually quite a lot left - laying underneath all the baggage accumulated over the years. It turns out that six years of bonding through blood, sweat, and tears while training together couldn’t have been thrown away so easily, even if they had tried. But at the end of all the craziness, they had both wanted to come back together. They had both stripped themselves of the armor they hadn't even known they had donned to protect themselves.
They say life is not about the end goal, but about the journey. More importantly, it is about who you share the journey with. If someone had taken Javi aside and told him that he would become a two-time world champion and Yuzu would become a two-time Olympic champion, two-time world champion, and more, he would not have believed it. Now, standing here in front of Yuzu, Javi doesn’t find any of these facts surprising in the least - the human mind can adapt to facts quickly, and his mind (as sluggish as it feels on some mornings) has had years to adapt to these facts.
However, he still cannot get over the fact that he has shared his journey with a person like Yuzuru. There will be other skaters coming for the top, who are already approaching Yuzu with footsteps too close for comfort. But none of them grew up with Yuzu. That spot belongs to Javi and Javi alone. Yuzuru Hanyu and Javier Fernández are a generation upon themselves, sandwiched between the great skaters of the past and the great skaters of the future. They may be the greatest generation of them all, just the two of them.
This world belongs to them alone, and without Javi in it, Yuzu will be left alone.
The thought suddenly hits Javi, and he is suddenly overcome with sadness. Despite being ready to bow out. Despite knowing his time has come. Despite feeling that his body is old and tired, barely holding it together for just one more competition. Despite being emotionally spent, having poured all of his heart and soul into this sport. Into their rivalry. Despite having given it his all. Despite having almost nothing left.
Javi still does not feel ready to leave Yuzuru Hanyu.
Javi looks at Yuzu with the heavy mind and heart of a partner working through the morbid calculations of knowing their time has come, and yet being reluctant to leave their counterpart alone in the world. He knows he shouldn't be presumptuous. He knows Yuzu will continue to be invigorated by other elements of skating, and other programs. He knows there will be other skaters. He knows.
But.
For now, Javi knows he can give Yuzu three more weeks. He can feel it in his body and soul that he has one more competition left in him. He will walk with Yuzu for just a little while longer. One more journey together.
Yuzuru suddenly notices him and turns to look him straight in the eye. The brightest smile that Javi has seen on Yuzu in years lights up his face, animating his features. His eyes crinkle warmly into creases, and he lets out a delighted squeal before skating over in a burst of speed which triggers alarms in Javi’s head for Yuzu’s right ankle.
Yuzuru’s warm body hits him, and their arms entangle around each other in a chokingly tight embrace. Javi’s hands are everywhere. He can’t help it.
Exclamations and greetings from other skaters are only a hum in the background. Their bodies are flush against one another, and it must look incredibly intimate to the others watching, but neither of them care. Javi feels a tension within him release and a warmth spread from his gut to his face where he feels a huge grin. He knows he looks ridiculous.
Neither lets go for a very long time.