Chapter Text
His earliest memories are a bit fuzzy, playing themselves out in black and white. Yuri remembers a woman with long hair kept in a braid. He remembers hands that held him; hands that slightly shook; hands that let him go. Gliding a little way across the ice, Yuri stopped and turned his body back to the woman. He remembers cheering “Mama look! I did it! I’m skating!” He does not remember the expression she wore on her face, nor the response she gave.
Yuri begins attending professional skating lessons around the age of five. He throws his entire being into them. He learns to fall. To bend his knees and fall to the side, leaning forwards. He learns to get back up. To turn over onto his hands and knees, and place one foot in-between his hands and then the other, pushing up.
He falls often, but never cries like the other kids do. He gets up and tries again. Keeps practicing until his mom comes to pick him up She’s always late. He’s always the last kid to put away his skates. But that’s okay. He becomes well acquainted with the ice while he waits.
One day his mother is later than usual. Everyone is gone except for the coach. The middle-aged woman at first gave Yuri a pitying look, but now she mutters under her breath. When his mom finally arrives, his coach takes off. His mother does not offer any explanation as to why she’s late. She just caresses his check with a shaking hand “Next practice your grandpa will be taking and picking you up” she says, her voice barely louder than a whisper “Mama has to go somewhere.”
The next day when Yuri’s grandfather takes him to practice, the old man stays. He sits on one of the worn, wooden benches at the side of the rink. Yuri gives him a confused look.
“Grandpa, you’re not leaving?” The old man gives a soft chuckle.
“And miss seeing my Yuratchka’s beautiful skating? I would never want that!” Yuri can’t fight back the smile that spreads across his face. A warmness spreads throughout Yuri, leaving him feeling light. Feeling like he can conquer anything. Yuri skates over to where the rest of his rink mates are. They’re practicing simple jumps today. Yuri has only been able to land them about eighty percent of the time, and of those only about half he landed without stumbling. A girl goes before Yuri. She moves forward to the center of the ice. Standing on her left foot, she brings her right leg behind her. She then swings her right leg up and jumps. She over rotates and lands awkwardly, stumbling a bit. Yuri goes next. His grandpa is expecting a beautiful performance, and Yuri will deliver. He swings his right foot forward and jumps, doing a half revolution in the air and landing cleanly on his right foot. He continues to land every single jump perfectly throughout practice.
Yuri doesn’t hear the gasps and the whispers coming from those around him: his attention is focused solely on his grandfather. The man wipes at his eyes, where tears are beginning to form, and smiles the biggest smile that Yuri has ever seen in his life.
When practice is over, he helps Yuri into his over-sized winter coat and fur hat. They walk down the snowy streets of Moscow, hand in hand. His grandfather praises his performance: “Yuratchka, you were the best one out there.” Yuri gazes up at him “Thanks Grandpa. Can you come to my next practice? It’ll be fine, even if Mom’s not there…” The old man stops walking and smiles down at Yuri.
His grandfather takes Yuri to his practices every day. His mother never returns from the ‘somewhere’ that she went to. Inevitably the memories of her fade away, replaced by his grandfather’s warmth.