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The ice was fresh beneath his feet.
Viktor skated slow circles on the rink, appreciating the silence around him. It was too early for anyone else to be up yet. As an extreme case of a morning person, Viktor enjoyed the peace that awakening at dawn brought along itself.
Hasetsu differed tremendously from Saint Petersburg. Even as a foreigner, Viktor felt more welcome here than in his empty, fancy apartment in Russia. His home rink was never quiet – there were always people around, either coaches or other skaters. It had been years since he last experienced the tranquility the Ice Castle offered.
Deeming himself stretched properly, Viktor sped up to prepare for a jump. It was nothing complicated at first, with him relying on muscle memory to land singles and doubles. The season he took off to coach Yuuri still imprinted itself on his performance. The jumps landed with technical perfection, but they looked rusty artistry-wise. Viktor wasn’t used to being lacking in any measure when it came to ice skating.
He let out an annoyed huff, catching a breath to try again. One dissatisfying attempt turned into another, the entirety of which began worsening with time. Viktor didn’t stop once as the triples started becoming doubles, his muscles ached from the lack of rest, and the dawn dissolved into a morning.
When his body physically forced him to pause and take a break, Viktor realized Yuuri must have had woken up already. He glid off the ice, put the plastic guards on his skates, and walked into the locker room. He swiftly retrieved his phone from his bag and checked for new notifications. There was a single good morning text from Yuuri, asking him whether he went to the rink without him. Viktor typed a yes and assured his fiancé he wasn’t there for too long. It was a half-truth because his training’s duration on the ice would be considered more extensive than advised by most professionals. He didn’t want to worry Yuuri for no reason.
Viktor sat on the bench and unwrapped a protein bar, allowing his muscles to relax. All he craved at that moment was the burning heat of hot springs.
***
Viktor returned to Yuutopia about half an hour later, taking his time with the run back. He was greeted with the mouth-watering smell of Hiroko’s cooking, which made his stomach grumble. He couldn’t eat the way he did when he arrived in Hasetsu for the first time and considered it a tragic loss. Even though Viktor never had trouble following meal plans, it became tougher after a year of feasting with nonexistent regard for nutrition.
“How was training?” Yuuri greeted him with a smile and a shy kiss on the cheek.
Viktor returned the affection by brushing a messy hair strand off Yuuri’s face and placing a peck at the tip of his nose.
“I can’t say it was great,” he admitted. “But I’ll get in shape with no time, so don’t worry about me. We should both focus on getting back on track.”
Yuuri nodded. He trusted Viktor to know his limits and not overdo anything.
***
The next day, Viktor woke up even earlier. He tenderly untangled himself from Yuuri’s limbs and left the room with great sorrow. Knowing he could be cuddling in bed with his fiancé instead of going for a run pained him deeply.
The warm-up went smoothly. No matter how much satisfaction coaching Yuuri brought him, returning to skating felt like coming home. Soon enough, they would need to leave for Saint Petersburg, so Viktor wanted to make the most of his limited time left in Hasetsu. He obviously couldn’t coach himself and Yakov, with lots of yelling and scolding, reluctantly decided to take him back. He had to prove his old mentor wrong, showing him that the season off didn’t go to waste.
There was only one way to bring Viktor Nikiforov, the most decorated skater in history back.
The blades slid effortlessly on the frozen surface. A second later, he was in the air, counting the rotations to land a wobbly quad flip. He almost touched the ice. Even though he didn’t show it, the situation horrified him. The Living Legend was gone. All that remained consisted of his shadow that possessed no glory of the old Viktor.
He dug his fingernails into his palms, watching as the skin reddened under the touch. Viktor couldn’t count on simply redeeming himself if he wanted to save his career. Rebirth was the only salvation.
***
A thin layer of sweat covered his body as he jumped again and again, hoping for each attempt to be closer to the perfected version of his signature move. His legs trembled with exhaustion, his head ached, but his technique barely improved. It was like learning to skate for the first time.
Viktor felt frustrated, beating himself up for everything that led to that situation. He wouldn’t allow himself to train at his home rink in such a miserable state.
The moment his feet left the ground, he knew something wasn’t right. It didn’t take long for him to hit the ice like a deadweight. His mind fogged up as a dull ache filled his body. His ankle must have gotten sprained in the best case.
Viktor had heard of career-ending injuries happening during practice, but he never considered the possibility of falling victim to one. All he could do was hope the incident obeyed that desperate expectation.
His body crouched with the strength he had left, nails digging into the ice to move forward. Just when he was about to grab the boards, he heard footsteps.
“Viktor? Are you there? I hoped I could join you earlier toda–” Yuuri stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening as fear clutched his stomach. He ran to him with the speed of light, helping Viktor get off the rink.
“Are you injured? Do I need to call an ambulance?” Yuuri asked frantically. He let Viktor lean on him, so he could maintain balance.
“It’s no big deal, Yuuri. I just need a second and then I can come back to training.”
Yuuri looked at him with disbelief written on his face.
“You’re joking.” It sounded more like a hopeful prediction than a question. When Viktor’s expression remained serious, Yuuri realized that his fiancé was not, in fact, joking. “I’m not letting you anywhere near the ice as long as I’m not sure you didn’t suffer any damage.”
Viktor opened his mouth to talk back, but the look in Yuuri’s eyes stopped him.
“It was an unlucky landing. Nothing more to it,” he mumbled a moment later.
Yuuri grabbed a phone out of his pocket, typing out a number.
“Can you walk?”
“Of course I can!” Viktor propped himself up, supporting his weight with his hands before he shifted the pressure to his legs. It resulted in a pained hiss and falling down right away. “...or not.”
The moment it happened, Yuuri no longer hesitated to call the ambulance. The number 119 lit up on the screen as the operator’s voice asked him what the emergency was. He gave them all the information, not bothering to acknowledge Viktor’s pouty expression.
If he wanted to kick his ass for overreacting, fine. But Yuuri wanted him to do this with both legs working.