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the cat whisperer

Summary:

Yuzuru Hanyu is nothing if not extra. So what’s his solution to loneliness? Getting six cats.

Notes:

apologies for any typos because i wrote this mostly at one in the morning after realizing that i couldn’t let this story go unwritten. It takes place right before next season and assumes that my dreams come true (Yuzuru wins this season’s GPF and worlds,,, I’m speaking it into existence). Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Also, good luck to Yuzuru in the coming competitions and in staying healthy!

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It all started when Mrs. Hanyu returned home to Japan. Yuzuru and his mother had determined that it was time for him to live alone, given that they had lived in Canada for years now and that family matters back in Japan were pressing.

Brian didn’t doubt Yuzuru’s ability to be a functional, independent adult, but he was prepared to have to talk to him about it. Yuzuru was nothing if not disciplined, but suddenly living alone is not easy for anybody. So it was a bit of a surprise when nothing significant changed about Yuzuru.

Until one day, that is.

Yuzuru sat in front of him, holding his bag in his lap and looking utterly ashamed. The bag was twitching. Brian raised an eyebrow. “Yuzuru, god, just let it out of there. I saw it already.”

Yuzuru’s eyes flashed. “‘It’? Her name is Axel. She is a girl cat. Not it.”

Brian sighed. Yuzuru was so self sufficient that he rarely had to be brought into Brian’s office like this, so he almost forgot how difficult he could be. Almost. “Okay, okay, fine. Let Axel out.”

Yuzuru unzipped his bag and there she was: a tiny gray kitten. Under his breath, Yuzuru apologized, said something in Japanese that Brian couldn’t catch, and then kissed her head. Brian had to admit it: she was adorable. But that wasn’t the point here.

“Alright Yuzuru, you have to know what I’m about to ask,” Brian began. “Why did you bring your cat with you? Animals aren’t allowed in the club. You know that.”

Yuzuru seemed to not hear him at first; he was preoccupied with petting Axel. But he responded. Eventually. “My mother had to go back to Japan, and I was very lonely. So I got a cat. But I can’t leave her at home while I train because then she is all alone.” Yuzuru didn’t look at Brian, apparently immersed in Axel’s beauty.

“Yuzuru, look at me.” He did not look. Brian continued. “You can’t bring your cat to practice, and you know that. Having her by the rink is a distraction to everyone. I saw you showing her to the other skaters earlier, and we all know that no one will be able to focus with her here. You need to take her home.”

With that, Yuzuru seemed to be out of Axel Land. “But Brian, she can’t just stay home! She’s so small. She needs me!”

“I’m sorry, but you have to find somewhere to put her that isn’t here. You just can’t have her here.”

“Axel has to stay with me.” And with that, Yuzuru left his office with a sort of dramatic flair that only he had.

Practice went on as usual for the Cricket Club after that. Everyone was training for the next season. New programs were being choreographed, and new technical elements were being perfected. New skaters joined the club, and others retired or left to find other opportunities. Figure skating as a sport went on as usual, and Brian’s skaters were all in good places. Most importantly, though, was that there was no cat.

For about a week, cat-less bliss continued. Until one day when Yuzuru came into practice once again with Axel in his arms. He glared at Brian, who was on the ice watching a younger skater’s runthrough. Yuzuru set up a cat bed and blanket on a bench with the rest of his belongings. Now the cat watched the ice from what seemed to be a throne.

The runthrough ended, and Brian watched Yuzuru get on the ice with the other skaters to begin a session. “You can’t keep her here,” he called out. But Yuzuru didn’t reply. In fact, he didn’t say a word to Brian the rest of the day. The cat watched intently from her throne, and she didn’t move. And then Brian realized—did Yuzuru train his cat to stay there? That was impossible, wasn’t it? But he couldn’t ask Yuzuru since he pointedly ignored him as he scooped up Axel and walked away when practice was over.

The next day, Yuzuru came to practice, and again, something was different. He had two cats in his arms—Axel and then another cat, a black one with piercing eyes. He set the pair down on the bench and supplied them with separate beds in which they could oversee the ice. Zhenya skated by Brian and said, “That’s Lutz! Yuzu said he looked scary, which is why he named him that!”

The cats watched over practice. Impossibly, no one seemed distracted. When practice ended for the day, Yuzuru again gathered up his things, spared a single withering glance at Brian, and left.

The next day, Yuzuru brought in three cats: Axel, Lutz, and Flip. And the pattern continued until all six cats—all six jumps—came with him. Brian decided to put his foot down. After practice, he stood in front of the door to the men’s locker room. Yuzuru approached, completely preoccupied in holding all six cats. So much so that he bumped into Brian.

“This needs to stop,” Brian said. “You can’t just not talk to me, Yuzuru. And especially not over something like this.” Yuzuru continued ignoring him, so Brian continued. “Alright, if you’re going to be like this, we can make a deal. You need to talk to me, and if you do, I’ll let you bring in a cat every Saturday.”

“All cats everyday,” Yuzuru said.

“Okay, all cats every Saturday.”

“Everyday.” Yuzuru’s eyes pierced through Brian’s soul. He was afraid. And the conversation continued until Brian relented and allowed all six of Yuzuru’s cats to come in everyday.

That brought us to the present. Now it was commonplace for Yuzuru to be seen pushing a small cart with him holding six cats. Today Brian found himself at Yuzuru’s apartment holding a cup of orange juice. At a cat party. Brian would never have thought that he would have a party at his own home—he was such a private person, after all—but these cats seemed to be changing him.

Granted, Yuzuru didn’t invite too many people. He, Evgenia, Jun, and Jason all sat around Salchow. “Her fur is so soft,” Jason cooed. “How are all your cats so adorable?”

“I think Yuzuru is a cat whisperer,” said Evgenia, completely immersed in petting Salchow. Flip climbed into her lap. “They’re all just too cute! Yuzuru, can I borrow them?” She pouted at him in a way that could make anyone’s heart melt.

“No way,” said Yuzuru. “You’ll just steal them all!” At that, Brian let out a laugh.

He, Tracy, and Ghislain stood by the counter, watching the skaters around the cats. Brian surveyed the apartment. It was neat; nothing seemed out of place. A small trophy case stood by the mantel, containing a select few medals, like the Skate Canada silvers and Four Continents medals. (“I need to motivate myself,” Brian remember him saying one time. “Seeing the silver makes me angry.”) A neat stack of games sat on the coffee table. And, of course, cat beds lined the wall by a desk in the living room. The place just seemed so Yuzuru.

He seemed content, too. “Maybe these cats are good for him,” Brian murmured to his colleagues.

“I think they are, too,” said Tracy, a fond look in her eyes. “I think he’d be so lonely without them. And he must love them a lot. They give him something to take care of.”

They watched the four thoughtfully until Yuzuru got up holding Loop. “Briannnn,” he called out, “Loop wants to meet you!” And suffice to say he ended up with a cat sitting on his head.

And so training went on as usual. Yuzuru was getting ready for the next season. After winning the previous World Championships and Grand Prix Final, Yuzuru had felt the need to practice the quintuple toe loop. Even thinking those words made Brian shudder, but helping athletes like him push the sport was part of the job. Yuzuru trying new and crazy jumps—as strange as it sounded—was normal. It was still normal when Javier came a couple weeks before the end of summer to start his new job as a coach. And when Yuzuru brought in seven cats, hand in hand with Javier, Brian couldn’t imagine the club’s “normal” any other way.

 

Bonus:

Skate Canada International 2020. Yuzuru had won it the second time in a row, this time by a 70 point lead. Brian sank into a chair in the back of the room where the press conference was being held, completely spent after these past few days.

A reporter cleared her throat. “I’m sure you have talked about this at great lengths, Mr. Hanyu, but I still have to wonder after your continued dominance. What do you do in your free time? What’s your life like outside of skating?”

Oh no.

“Well, I actually have not gotten this question recently, so I am happy to answer it. This past summer I got six cats and I named them after all the jumps—”

And so Yuzuru talked for fifteen minutes about his cats. Brian was not surprised.