Chapter Text
What is a genius?
A genius is the ability to see, understand, or do something far beyond what is considered “the normal”, often instinctively and to reshape the rules of a particular field because of it.
So basically, a miracle or the impossible.
Zanka once considered himself one of those special people.
A genius
Why wouldn’t he?
He knew he wasn’t gifted with brute strength like his elder brother, nor was he as intelligent as his eldest sister. Whatever he tried, his siblings far surpassed him tenfold. So the only way to stand out, and to earn his parents’ attention was to do something different.
That was what five-year-old Zanka believed.
So he chose figure skating. Why??
Well his mother always talked a lot about it, didn’t she?
When he told his parents, his father didn’t really care. He already saw his five-year-old son as weak and useless compared to his other siblings. There were better children to focus on. Zanka didn’t matter.
But his mother — his mother was excited.
Zanka’s parents didn’t mind spending small money on his childish decision. In fact, he was given a professional private skating coach, access to a rented ice rink for practice, and he was even enrolled in ballet classes in the evening times.
And just like that, at five years old, Zanka Nijiku entered the world of figure skating.
His progress was slow and steady but still noticeable. Even his coach praised him once in a while. He practiced harder, pushing himself every day, and little by little, it began to show.
By the time he was ten, Zanka had improved immensely. He was far above his peers landing double jumps and even triple combinations. He was blessed by an early start, some would say. Even his step sequences showed clear improvements thanks to ballet training.
His mother was thrilled. Why won't she be?? Her son was doing something she always dreamt about.
Even his father began to spare him a few glances.
Zanka may have started skating for attention -- and he succeeded but now, it was starting to become fun, skating was starting to become enjoyable
Because of that dedication, he earned Badge 5 at an unusually young age of ten between his peers who are normally between the ages of eleven and thirteen. Though he was tall for his age, so his age didn't really show as much.
That made him a genius, right?
An exception. Someone whose talent surpassed his peers. A gift that would be remembered for decades.
Zanka the genius
Zanka the prodigy
Zanka the star
Right?
right???
In Russia, the figure skating world was cruel and competitive, especially for young skaters. Talent and elegance were praised and clapped upon. And ohh. . . did they praise Zanka, they praised him endlessly, showering him with all those pretty names.
The White Dove
The Prodigy
The Exceptional One.
The Elegant One
Russia’s Rising Star
The One Who Would Re-write Skating History
…
…
…
The Genius.
And those pretty words that filled Zanka’s ego.
Of course he was a genius. Tell him something he didn’t already know.
Then, a new girl joined his ballet class.
She was quiet. Her eyes were cold, almost soulless. The teacher said she was a beginner. She was just starting out.
But Zanka didn’t really care.
In a month—no, maybe three weeks, she had already adapted. Her movements, which were once stiff and robotic, became fluid.
Almost elegant
(Zanka didn’t want to admit that part.)
Their teacher arranged a friendly competition. Nothing serious. Just something between the whole class.
But she destroyed them, mercilessly.
She performed a move that had been taught only the day before, executing them effortlessly, as if she had mastered them years ago. Even Zanka hadn’t perfected that move yet.
But that didn’t matter. Not anymore.
That was the first time Zanka witnessed anything like that. . . a miracle?? A genius??
What angered him the most was her indifference. She didn’t look proud. She didn’t even look happy. She didn’t care.
Everything Zanka thought he did felt like complete bullshit in comparison.
This wasn’t supposed to be possible, right??
But there she was – doing it.
This was what true genius looked like.
And compared to that?
He was nothing but an average joe. Just like everyone else in his class.
Some teachers who witnessed everything whispered.
“Ohh I heard she’s going into figure skating soon.”
“Good for her.”
“She’s going to make it big.”
“Didn’t we teach that move yesterday?”
“She’s a genius.”
“Compared to the rest—”
Zanka stopped listening, he wasn't interested in whatever remarks his teachers had to say about that girl.
Some of his classmates, who were felt too crushed and incompetent by her talent, quit ballet entirely after that, from what he heard.
But not Zanka.
Him? Incompetent?
Never.
He might not be a genius — but incompetent?
Never.
He just needed to practice twice – no maybe thrice as hard, it was just that simple. He didn't need to complicate this.
Talents. . . Gifts. . . Geniuses
Screw all that bullshit and throw it in the trash, he was going to do just fine – no – he's going to do great without them, besides he started way early. That was his true advantage, right??
Seven years had passed
Zanka heard the final bell. School was finally over, and he was ready to get the hell out of that place.
Why wouldn’t he?
He had skating practice this afternoon, and if he arrived early, there wouldn’t be many people there. Which would be a dream to him. The fewer the skaters the less the noise.
Besides, his coach had said he wanted to make some changes to his regimen.
Changes
Zanka loved changes as long as they helped him improve. He would be on board. He trusted his coach. Whatever Enjin planned, it was probably meant to make him a better skater.
Students went out the school gates in ones, twos, and threes, chatting and laughing as they passed through.
But Zanka was alone.
His earpieces were plugged in and the volume was low. He was just about to step through the gate when he heard a voice call out behind him.
“Zankaa—wait upp!”
He turned.
Riyo was running toward him, waving wildly for him to slow down. When she finally reached his side, she bent over, her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.
Zanka waited patiently.
“I thought you’d be staying late for detention,” he said at last, watching as she straightened up.
“Why? You thought I would, hmmm” she replied, in a playful grin. “That’s so mean, Zanka. It’s not every day I get detention though”
“Well, with the way this week’s been going, I thought you were aiming to break your previous streak or something,” Zanka said with a tired sigh.
“You should probably pause that streak for now. Don’t you have preliminaries coming up?” he added in a lecturing tone.
Riyo burst into laughter.
“Streak!! geez, Zanka, I swear you don’t know how funny you are,” she said once she’d calmed down.
“Yeah, I know ,” she added, nudging him. “That’s why I’m coming with you today. Your big sister’s picking us up, right?”
“Yeah. Let’s go before she leaves us behind.”
“Yep, yep, yep!”
The car ride was quiet.
Zanka’s older sister, Kyouka, sat on the sat across from them, her attention glued to a stack of documents and her laptop. She was, of course, on her way to work.
Riyo scrolled through Instagram, occasionally grabbing Zanka by the sleeve to show him a funny reel or some news about an artist she liked.
Zanka kept one earpiece in, listening to a violin piece while staring out the window. Trying to ignore the presence of his sister, which was somewhat working.
Eventually, after what felt like gresome hours to him — they arrived at the skating club.
Riyo was the first out of the car. Zanka followed, but before he could shut the door—
“Send my regards to that coach of yours” Kyouka said.
Then the car was gone.
Zanka didn’t waste time. He headed straight for the locker room, changed quickly into his training clothes, laced up his skate shoes, as he grabbed his water bottle, and made his way toward the rink.
He hadn’t seen his coach yet though.
The bleachers weren't so crowded with skaters, some stretching, a few chatting, others crouched over their skates.
Zanka stepped onto the ice, the familiar cold rushing through him as he took a deep breath in and let it out.
Riyo was already there.
She shook out her hands, skating slow circles as she warmed up, her eyes were distant but focused
“Hey, Riyo.” Zanka’s voice snapped her back.
“Yooo, what’s upp?” she replied cheerfully.
“Have you seen Enjin?”
“Nope,” she said, gliding over to him. “I heard he went out on an errand, though.”
She rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Relax. He’ll be back soon. Let’s do our warmups before then.”
With that, she pushed off, leaving him standing near the entrance.
“Right,” Zanka muttered to himself as he followed her onto the ice.
Warm-up
Yes. He needed to warm up first like he always did.
He began by building speed, not too fast, following the melody of the violin piece he’d been listening to on the way here. He traced simple curves into the ice, transitioning into wide circles, while he tried to steady his breathing. His glides were slow and deliberate. He repeated thess sequence several times, letting the cold seep into his muscles as it loosened his body.
Then he exhaled slowly then held his breath.
His blue eyes locked onto the spot where he planned to take off.
Then he launched into the air.
Two – no, three clean rotations above the ice. The takeoff felt right and the landing was perfect: one foot down, the other lifted high, nearly at a ninety degrees.
A triple Lutz.
“Okay,” Zanka muttered to himself, finally breathing out. “But not good enough.”
He pushed off again, harder this time. His strokes longer as he leaned deeper into his edge, carving sharper curves into the ice. He did this sequence twice.
Zanka disappeared into his head.
He decided on a combination – a simple one. He visualized every movement, every jump, before committing.
Then—
He took off. But not too high enough though. Just one clean rotation and a little more.
A single Axel.
He landed, crouched slightly on one leg, and immediately launched again – this time higher. Two fast rotations before landing on the same foot, the free leg still lifted high.
A double loop.
Without hesitation, he went backward into his final jump.
A quad Salchow.
The height was perfect. Four rotations in the air, smooth and controlled. He landed softly on the ice, still skating backward, his leg again raised high, his arms relaxed at his sides. His pace began to slow down as he finally let out a long sigh.
Then a satisfied grin spread across his face.
Of course. That was perfection
A few younger skaters nearby had stopped to watch. Some even clapped, others whispering in awe. The attention only widened his grin.
He skated off the ice for water.
The bottle in his hand was empty and he needed to get it refilled. He had go bit farther down and a bit away from the rink to get a fresh batch.
On his way back, he noticed movement near the entrance of the club.
It was dim there. Light from outside spilled in just enough for him to see–
Enjin
His coach was collecting documents from someone. Zanka couldn’t see the man clearly, only their handshake before the stranger exited the building. Enjin headed toward the head coach’s office.
Leaving someone behind.
A third person.
Zanka assumed it was a new female skater who was joining them – until he looked closer.
They had really broad shoulders and muscular build, Messy hair that almost looked like—
Then all of a sudden they started skipping toward him.
Skipping?!!
…Why were they skipping?
“Zan-zan~~” Their voice was bubbly. . . And sounded almost familiar.
“Zan-zan?” Zanka muttered in confusing as he squints his eyes at the stranger's direction.
Then the realization hit him like a slap to the face.
That voice
That hair
Noo
That can't be him, please fuck no
No no I must be dreaming because I'm seeing thing, right??
How can he be here??
That's totally fucking impossible
Yeah
“Zanka, buddy! Did ya miss meee?”
The figure came closer, their arms spread wide.
Now Zanka could see him clearly, that annoying grin, the purple tint in his eyes, that almost looked like it glowed sometimes, the dreadlocks threaded with gold metals that bounced with every step he took.
His expression hardened instantly.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“It’s me, Jabber! Remember?” Jabber laughed, going in for a hug.
Zanka reacted on instinct.
He grabbed Jabber’s wrist and twisted it sharply, stopping him mid-step.
“Don’t touch me, you perverted weirdo,”
Zanka snapped, clicking his tongue.
Jabber only laughed harder, as if enjoying the pain.
“Owwie~,” he whined dramatically, still smiling.
“C’mon, dude, it’s just a huug.”
He slipped out of Zanka’s grip and grabbed his wrist instead.
When Zanka tried to retaliate, Jabber caught his other hand too. Then he pulled him to a hug – tightly.
Zanka’s arms were pinned behind his own back.
“Man, you’re so fighty, Zan-zan,” Jabber murmured, practically breathing into his ear.
Jabber let out a loud, exaggerated groan.
“Seriously, Ya needa take a ch—”
Zanka drove his knee upward, hitting his junk real hard.
Jabber collapsed instantly, releasing him with a strangled cry.
A second later, he was laughing again still curled on the floor, wheezing.
“Man, Zanka, are ya a sadist or somethin’? Oww damn, that hurts,” Jabber said between laughs.
“Fucking psycho,” Zanka spat, glaring down at him in disgust.
“Hey, Zankaaa”
A voice he heard behind him.
He turned to see Enjin approaching with Riyo beside his side.
“What are you doing down there, Jabber?” Enjin asked, offering him a hand.
“Oh, nothin’ ” Jabber replied cheerfully as Enjin pulled him up.
Zanka’s jaw tightened.
“Enjin. . .” he said sharply. “What the hell is he doing here?”
“Oh, Jabber?” Enjin replied casually. “He moved to Russia recently. He’s will be joining our club.”
“Huh?” Zanka scoffed.
“And starting today,” Enjin continued, “you two will be skating together – as a pair.”
“…Huh?”
“So I expect you both to play nice okay?? ” Enjin added with a grin.
“. . .Huh?”
Riyo, who was standing beside Zanka, was visibly struggling not to laugh as she stole a glance at him.
“Ohhh, this is gonna be alot of fun,” Jabber chuckled.
Zanka’s expression shifted from confusion, to realization, then back to disbelief.
The fuckening?!!