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“Are you nervous?” Zhongli guides him over the ice, one step at a time as they pick up speed. Xiao follows suit easily, too practiced in this little ritual of theirs, used to allowing Zhongli to open the way.
“I’m not.” It is a lie. How can anyone not be nervous before the Olympics – the grandest of all sports events; the end boss one might say. But the nerves are nothing compared to the last time.
With his previous coach.
He cracked under the pressure back then, broke down when the training regime became too much, too much to endure, too much to survive. The damp fabric of his costume which clung to his skin, the tight tape around his ankles and boots threatening to give away beneath him, the words of his coach- Each word a needle in his heart. It was too much and by the time he stepped off the ice it was over in more ways than just one.
The crowds and the cheers were suffocating. He couldn’t stay – no way in hell he could.
Hours later, he sat in the corner of a small restaurant, hood covering half his face. The noodle soup he ordered was left untouched, growing cold as he watched the ribbons of steam rise to the ceiling. Figure skating was all he had, the only skill he possessed. It was his everything and it was his end because after figure skating there was nothing.
Like the evaporating steam, his future faded before him, faster than he expected when he knew it would end-
“May I join you?”
It was an innocent question. Short and polite, but it changed everything Xiao knew to be true until that moment.
Xiao leans his head against Zhongli’s shoulder as they glide down the rink. Compared to before only a tingle remains in the pit of his stomach. There’s no need to fear for failure, there’s no need to be scared of injuries. When Zhongli offered to be his coach, he taught him how to take care of his wounds, how to allow time to heal and do its magic.
He isn’t the broken athlete he was four years ago when he wasn’t able to finish his program after he fell on the ice. His old coach never allowed it, but Zhongli gently pushed his shoulder against the bed so he could recuperate from everything that ever ailed him. He nursed him and lifted him up. He isn’t broken anymore, no. Zhongli gave him back his wings, so he could fly by himself.
A tug at his hip, a pick of his toe. Zhongli throws him high up in the air, higher than he ever was before. There is nothing natural about spinning meters above the ground, but nothing is more natural than trusting Zhongli to catch him with his hand and his heart.
“What is there to be nervous about when you’re with me?” Xiao says. They glide next to each other, one step at a time, a counter, a rocker; they turn, and their hands catch each other again.
Zhongli taught him to pair skate to ease his nerves. The calm sound of blades scratching against ice in the same rhythm, every breath and every touch falls into place.
Xiao gave Zhongli’s hand a gentle squeeze because he, too, has nothing to be nervous about. The former Olympic pair skating champion only trusted his previous partner Guizhong till she had to leave too early. Pairs is different from Singles. It’s an exchange of power and devotion, but Zhongli squeezed back, picked up speed and pulled him along. The world passed by fast like the past four years. With Zhongli at his side every moment is precious; every moment is sacred. Fleeting yet beautiful, so that even dust in a dark room hit by one ray of light becomes a sparkling galaxy.
Zhongli throws him again and Xiao is certain. He is certain no matter how time cannot ever stand still – even if he wished for every moment with Zhongli to last forever – the future will never be dark anymore.
The ‘thud’ of his blade connecting with the ice echoes against the walls. It echoes in his heart. It echoes and echoes, and it is a reminder of who Xiao is now: Found, healed, beautiful. Able to do anything he sets out to do.