Chapter Text
All I know is that I've wasted all these years looking for something, a sort of trophy I'd get only if I really, really did enough to deserve it. But I don't want it anymore, I want something else now, something warm and sheltering, something I can turn to, regardless of what I do, regardless of who I become. Something that will just be there, always, like tomorrow's sky. That's what I want now, and I think it's what you should want too. But it will be too late soon. We'll become too set to change. If we don't take our chance now, another may never come for either of us.
- Kazuo Ishiguro, When we were orphans
Toronto, 2017
The days are getting longer, sunlight stretching for a few minutes longer every day, even though it’s still freezing, and sometimes the cold air of the rink feels like a relief. There’s something nostalgic about that time of a year, when you can almost smell the scent of flowers already, of soil and rain, when the wind is getting warmer and bringing a promise of better, colourful days.
Yuzuru shivers a little when he steps inside the building, sighing when after a moment he feels warm air from the heating make its way through under his jacket, comforting and helping him shake off all the stiffness that crept over him during the walk from the car to the door. He smiles at the guy sitting behind the reception desk, and at a group of giggly novice girls waving at him enthusiastically, and he doesn’t meet anyone else on his way to the locker room, the hour still early, his footsteps resonating in the quiet corridors.
His thoughts are already busy with imagining his training, head hanging low, so when he pushes the door open and finds the room isn’t empty, he lets out a squeak that immediately heats his cheeks up with embarrassment.
“Hi.” Javi says from where he is sitting on the bench, wearing his training clothes already, stretching his legs a little “Good morning!”
“Hi.” Yuzuru nods, annoyed with the sudden awkwardness he felt, a bit of tension sitting on his shoulders. He can’t believe he forgot it’s the day Javi was supposed to come back, or maybe he just forgot, and the thought makes him feel uneasy, as if something wasn’t right.
“Congratulations, on the win.” Yuzuru says to shake the odd feeling off, dropping his bag on one of the benches, not exactly across from Javi but close enough to still keep the conversation going without being in some weird positions.
“Thank you.” Javi grins, and there’s a shadow of exhaustion around his eyes that Yuzuru wants to ignore, but he truly can’t, his heart clenching oddly.
“It was a tough one.” Javi adds, tone light, and Yuzuru feels a pang of guilt, because he hasn’t watched the Europeans yet, planning to do that next weekend, and suddenly it feels wrong, like he hasn’t fulfilled some kind of obligation.
“But you did it.” Yuzuru says, turning his head to send Javi a brief smile “I’m happy for you.” he adds, and turns away instantly, not sure how his expression looks like.
I used to be quite different, Yuzuru thinks as his fingers skim over the soft fabric of his training gear, suddenly hesitant to take it out and put it on. Things were so much easier, back in time, back when they were younger and Yuzuru wasn’t a two times world silver medallist, when there was no Olympic shadow looming over them, a threat and desire all at once.
“I’ll see you on the ice.” Javi says, breaking the silence, fragile like an early hour frost.
And when he walks out, Yuzuru feels like he can breathe again, even though the lingering pain he was getting used to during the past months only seemed to grow even more nagging.
“Take it easy today, okay?” Brian says, looking at Javi, and then he turns his gaze to Yuzuru too, his expression shifting, a little twist that strangers would miss, but Yuzuru knows him too well, and his stomach churns unpleasantly.
“You too. We had a few intense days, yes?”
Yuzuru bites his tongue and nods, skating away slowly, letting everything sink in. He sometimes thinks Brian is still upset about last year, about all the things Yuzuru didn’t tell him, a decision he regrets from time to time. But it’s not time to dwell on the past, so Yuzuru makes his legs move faster and he catches up with Javi, not thinking about it too much, letting his body fall in that familiar, never forgotten rhythm.
“Is all okay?” he asks before he can stop himself, and Javi shrugs, sending him a smile.
“Yeah. Just had that stupid fall in the free.” he chuckles, and Yuzuru nods, although he has no idea what he’s talking about. But they never spoke about their injuries, their pains. There were barriers between them, they never dared to cross, invisible lines they stayed away from for so long, despite their closeness.
Well, their past closeness.
Yuzuru can’t deny that things changed between them, and that it’s mostly on him. But he knows himself, and he knows that he tends to be too much, too focused, too caught up in his own world. It’s harder now, more difficult than it used to be, and Yuzuru accepts it, just one more price to pay. It’s better that way, and Yuzuru hopes absently that he will take care of it, let them grow close again, maybe even closer than before. Later, when it all is over and he will be able to breathe again. Then they will talk, and maybe Yuzuru will finally let their companionship grow into something more, in a friendship they never let each other build for real, too different and distant despite meaning so much to each other.
“Hey.” Javi’s voice pulled Yuzuru out of his daze, his shoulder bumping into Yuzuru’s gently “And you? All good?”
“Yes.” Yuzuru says without missing a beat, the answer perfected through the years “All good.”
“Cool.” Javi smiles before skating away, turning to find Gabby and tickle her until Brian calls for them to go back to work, just the tiniest hint of laughter lingering in his voice, and Yuzuru feels a lump forming in his throat, ugly and irritating, and he turns his face away, telling himself for the thousandth time that he doesn’t need it and that’s not what he’s here for. When he came to Toronto, it was with an Olympic gold on his mind, and nothing really changed after Sochi, only the need seemed to burn brighter, more nagging, only fuelled by the disappointments and troubles of following seasons.
Yuzuru exhales deeply, and his eyes catch a golden glint of plaques hanging on the wall, and his heart slows down, everything inside him calming down with a stoic certainty that his name will appear there again.
Pyeongchang, 2018
When their gazes meet in the locker room, Yuzuru almost looks away, but Javi smiles at him and something in Yuzuru aches, deep and tugging at his heart, so he shoots him a smile back before dropping his head down, focusing on untying his shoelaces.
He’s bone tired and grateful for the painkillers, but nothing is enough to numb all the emotions coiling inside him, anxiety, need and… longing. The past months have been painful and lonely, and now it almost makes him feel uneasy, to sit in the crowded locker room, with Javi right in front of him, humming some quiet melody Yuzuru can’t recognize, and for the very first time since they started training together, Yuzuru truly doesn’t have an idea what they’re standing on.
The past seasons were harsh, with ups and downs for both of them, with Helsinki being its own universe, emotions so overwhelming Yuzuru couldn’t express all his feelings in a simple hug and a few uttered sentences. It felt like a new start, for a second, and then they were both pulled back into harsh reality in which they were rivals, and suddenly it was almost unbearable, to skate with Javi every day, to see how focused and quiet he was. His determination seemed to be matching Yuzuru’s and that was making him feel uneasy, almost threatened, and Yuzuru hated himself for the thoughts it ignited, ugly and irrational. So when Brian split them apart it felt good for a while, until one day he stopped in the middle of the rink and had no idea what to do, as if the lack of Javi’s grounding presence suddenly stripped him of his ability to skate, but he didn’t have time to try to understand it because then his body decided to betray him yet again.
And now he’s here, in Pyeongchang, standing right in front of what he wants the most and-
“Coming?” Javi asks, standing up and reaching out to Yuzuru, his hand hanging between them, big and welcoming and so familiar, and for a moment Yuzuru forgets about everything and reaches out as well, letting Javi pull him up, a tremor he can’t understand running through his body, warm and tingling, and for a moment it feels just like the beginning, when Javi shook his hand in the backstage of that Moscow rink for the first time and Yuzuru got that odd feeling of familiarity that was truly inexplicable.
“Yes.” Yuzuru mumbles and he instantly feels dumb, awkwardness dusting his cheeks with a pink blush, and the next second words are leaving his mouth without any thought “Thank you.”
Javi blinks, but doesn’t ask him what he means. He just squeezes Yuzuru’s hand and then lets go, and Yuzuru feels a sharp feeling of disappointment, so surprising he pushes it away instantly, because still, there’s only one thing that matters now, always, yet another goal he has sworn to make everything to achieve.
Yuzuru lets out a breath that is more of a sob than anything else, and keeps on staring at the ceiling, his eyes dry and burning. Tears would feel soothing now, but he suspects he has cried them all out, tears of happiness, pain and relief, and grief that feels older than just the few last days. And maybe that’s the case. Maybe deep inside he has been dreading that moment, but never let the possibility nestle in his head, but his heart somehow knew, and it still wasn’t ready.
He rolls on his side, and in the stream of neon light coming through a crack in the curtains hits the surface of his bedside table, blue and yellow reflections dancing on the black screen of his phone and the velvet box hiding his second Olympic medal. He almost reaches for it, but his hand freezes mid-movement, because what flashes in his mind is the image of Javi’s face, memory of his hand on Yuzuru’s shoulder, words that are by now burned in Yuzuru’s memory like a scar that will never truly fade.
“It’s not right.” Yuzuru whispers tiredly, “You can’t leave me.”
It’s selfish and he knows it, and that’s why he will never say it to Javi, even though he has been fighting the urge to do so, words almost slipping out of his lips when they were changing after the gala. There was a moment, when he caught Javi’s gaze, and time froze for a second, and it was only them, and Yuzuru’s fingers itching to reach out and touch him, to make sure he was still there. But then Alex laughed loudly right next to them and the bubble broke, and Yuzuru watched silently as everyone was leaving, talking about drinks and food they were going to have. No one asked him if he wanted to join, knowing the answer as well as him; he was always happy with that quiet arrangement, but then, for just a heartbeat, he wished it was different.
Yuzuru groans and sits up, rubbing his eyes. He’s tired, that constant exhaustion that seems to be imprinted in his bones, but he’s not sleepy, his blood circling faster for some reason, and when he brings his hand to his cheek, his skin feels hot, a bit rough, and he wonders briefly if he has had enough water the day before.
He looks aside again, avoiding the box and setting his gaze on the phone, and now he doesn’t hesitate when he reaches for it. It’s late but not dead of the night, and Yuzuru is weirdly sure Javi is awake, but what could he write? They don’t text, not really, so after a moment of staring at his lock screen, Yuzuru puts the phone away and closes his eyes, praying for sleep to come and quiet down the turmoil inside his head.
Japan, 2018
It hits him on the last day of the tour, after the last show.
He’s been busy these past weeks, and it feels good to be back on the ice, even when he has to keep his moves careful and limited. The time flies, and suddenly it’s almost done, and Yuzuru smiles absently as Javi approaches him, bright-eyed and still a little breathless, but clearly pleased with the last show. And it was good, but Yuzuru is glad to be coming home soon, to the soothing calm of his city and loving presence of his family.
“Hey.” Javi says, standing so close Yuzuru can almost feel the heat radiating from his body and scent of his shower gel, “Everything alright?”
Yuzuru isn’t surprised with the question; he left the ice feeling a little winded and he knew it was showing, but after a few sips of water and shower he feels much better, so he smiles widely and nods, watching Javi’s own smile grow.
“Great! I just wanted-my flight is quite early so I think it’s the last time we see each other before I go, so, you know.” Javi shrugs, and for a moment he looks awkward, as if not sure what to say, and Yuzuru’s heart starts beating a bit harder, erratic “You take care of yourself, yeah? And I’ll see you… soon.”
Yuzuru blinks. His heart stops, and then stutters, because he realizes that when he goes to Toronto in a few weeks, Javi won’t be there, and he might never come back, even for the damn Europeans he has mentioned once or twice. And now, standing in the quickly emptying locker room, it finally settles, the terrible finality of the words they shared in the Pyeongchang arena.
Javi’s leaving, truly. And Yuzuru will have to learn how to live in reality without him by his side.
“Yuzu?” Javi asks, smile morphing into a worried frown, and he reaches out tentatively, warm fingers curling against the side of Yuzuru’s neck “Are you-” he’s not able to finish, because then Yuzuru is surging forward, his arms coming to wrap around Javi’s shoulders, nose against Javi’s cheek as he hugs him with all the strength he has left in his tired muscles.
Javi yelps quietly, body tensing in surprise, but then he’s hugging Yuzuru well, warm palms pressed against Yuzuru’s back. He takes a deep breath, as if he’s about to say something, but in the end he only exhales with a quiet sigh, one hand running up, touching Yuzuru’s neck with a gentle caress before sliding into Yuzuru’s hair.
They hugged countless times before, in the past years, in the past weeks, but it’s not enough, and it will never be enough, and Yuzuru closes his eyes and he wills his body not to tremble.
And then Javi says something, quiet and soothing, and pulls back gently, his hands sliding to Yuzuru’s waist as if he was afraid Yuzuru is going to collapse. There is a look on his face, the one Yuzuru doesn’t see often and because of that he doesn’t know how to react, startled, and then the moment passes and Javi smiles, compassionate and warm.
“Do you want me to walk back with you to the hotel?” Javi asks quietly, with all the care in the world, and Yuzuru realizes that he has never been more scared in his entire life, and he doesn’t understand why, he just know that he has to be alone, even though his skin is crawling unbearably, longing to fall into Javi’s warmth again. It’s not something unfamiliar, to crave that familiar touch and comfort it usually brings; but now it’s odd, and sharp, and Yuzuru doesn’t know what to do with it, so he takes a step back and shakes his head, forcing a custom smile to form on his lips, blank but enough, always enough.
“I have, umm, there is a car.” he mumbles and Javi nods, and for a second Yuzuru thinks his shoulders slumps a little, but then he only offers to walk him outside, where they share an awkward goodbye witnessed by the janitor and two security guys, and then he’s in the car and the distance between them is growing and growing, and it feels like it’s never going to stop.
And even hours later, when he should be fast asleep but still lies awake, that odd feeling of his chest being heavy with tangled emotions and yet somehow numb, Javi’s absence already taking a toll on his soul. He presses his palm to his chest, feeling his heart fluttering, and he tells himself it’s only because he hates not knowing what’s coming next. Since he was a child, his life had a certain rhythm that was supposed to lead him forward, achieving one goal after another, placing the bar higher and higher. He can’t stand confusion and coincidences, and uncertainty makes him uncomfortable, and he thinks maybe that’s the reason for that big knot in his chest that feels tighter and tighter with every shallow breath.
Coming to Toronto knowing Javi won’t be there is scary, scarier than going there for the first time years back, when he was just a teenager with a lanky body that could barely contain all his determination. He’s so much older now, so much more experienced, but why suddenly Toronto feels like the most terrifying, the loneliest place?
Perhaps he just needs what he had back there- a clear goal he was heading towards, focused, unwavering. And maybe that’s what he craves again, something that is now far in the distance but not unreachable, not with hard work and focus.
That thought brings him comfort, a little prick of satisfaction like after solving a complicated maths problem, and a sting of bitter relief that accompanies every doctor diagnosis. Because when he knows what’s wrong, there is always a chance to fix it. If he learned how to skate and train with Javi, he could also learn how to do that without him.
And when it came to living with pain in his heart and burden on his shoulders-he will manage. He always does.