Resiliance
This is a possible story start. So input/feedback/whatever much appreciated, I don't know, I've done a lot of attempts at seriously injuring Yuri and this is probably one of my 2 favorites starts with that theme.
Yakov Feltsman's old office. At the age of Thirty-two, Viktor had never before imagined that this is where he would be. This was now where he was sitting in a chair, looking at a picture of his recently deceased dog and drinking the last bottle of Vodka his former coach had left in the drawer. 5 years had passed since he had last been truly based from this rink on more than paper.
For three months he had been coaching in Moscow, the first job he could find to keep himself busy -- he didn't need the money. He just needed to not be thinking about why he was in Russia in March instead of in Japan enjoying the spring.
Day 1 in St Petersburg started like his Days 1 through whatever the hell it had been covering a maternity leave in Moscow. Two shots, a protein bar, and making himself presentable for his early morning skaters. While Yakov's retirement had been unexpected in some ways, in others people had been expecting it for years. When the junior team showed up for their skate times, it was the same as always. None of these skaters were ones that he knew. If they had been skating in St. Petersburg when he had been here, they had been nothing but children.
Seniors were another matter. Yakov had two male skaters and two female skaters on the senior roster. Georgi had retired two years ago. Mila was still skating, she would back for training next week. With Worlds just having ended, she was on a well deserved Vacation after her gold medal there. Instead, three skaters he vaguely remembered from when they were juniors were there now. No, seeing them, he only recognized two of them. The other one must just have seemed familiar from seeing it written in the competition websites.
The last slot of the day for Yakov's schedule was the one that Viktor was the most apprehensive about. While every skater had had detailed notes left for him, and Viktor knew his memory so he knew much better to ever lose that notebook with years of carefully curated information, his last skater of the day had both the shortest as well as the most complex note.
Viktor-
Do not let Yuri skate for more than an hour. You know he will. Do not let him over do it. Watch him, do not seem like you are watching him. Work on programs, choreography, costumes, music, anything you must, but do it with your ass in a seat so you can keep an eye on him.
Viktor hauled his laptop out to the rink, setting it up on the small table that Yakov used to use so he could go through apartment listings. RIght now, he was staying at a hotel still. He needed an actual place to stay. If he had to babysti Yuri, at least he could use the time to try and find a place. This was a permanent coaching position, and through everything, Viktor knew this was yet another opportunity falling into his lap. Yakov retiring at the perfect time for VIktor Nikiforov to waltz in and take over the man's skating program. Everyone was thrilled to have him there. Well, everyone except Viktor.
He was lost in thinking about how he didn't want any of this. The search for 2+ bedrooms 2+ baths and a fitness area and secure entry had faded away into his own thought of how he hadn't been able to accept his divorce when he heard a thump and looked up.
Without even acknowledging him, Yuri was there. His blond hair longer than it had been before, now reaching the young man's mid back. He was pulling on a brace for his knee and another for his ankle. The rights on both, of course. He hadn't been competing all season. An off season injury about a year ago had ended the man's career. Honestly, Viktor had half thought this job would have gone to him. The man was clearly being groomed by Yakov for the coaching spot -- at least that was what it seemed like from where Viktor had been in Japan.
Viktor didn't say anything as he saw Yuri glade onto the ice, earbuds in his ears as if to ignore the entire world. This wasn't just warm up, this was a program -- not a complex one, but he knew beyond a doubt he was watching a free skate as soon as Yuri took a position on the ice and started to move into a step sequence.
It had been a year since Viktor had seen Yuri skate in person at last year's worlds. The man then had barely taken silver to Yuuri. Even at the time, Viktor had been surprised by it. The scores had been so close, but while he felt the judges had missed little flaws on his own Yuuri's performance, he was near certain they had seen flaws that didn't exist on the other Yuri's. The last comment he remembered the blond skater making had been about working harder. Then, only weeks later the news that Yuri had sustained an injury while practicing.
Viktor had known it was bad to have missed an entire season, but it wasn't until the first jump of the program that Viktor realized exactly how bad it had been. The first jump was a double loop, and Viktor only caught it out of the corner of his eyes. However, when the spin followed it, his pale eyes widened. This was …
He stood up, getting a better look at the ice as he started to walk down to the boards, gloved hands resting on the worn wood. He watched as Yuri moved into a catch spin, then pulled it in righter, his speed of rotations increasing …. Clockwise. Like 90% of skaters out there, Yuri had always, always jumped counter-clockwise. He had always landed on his right not his left. It was just how things were, but here the young man was, doing exactly the opposite of what he had trained and performed all his young life.
He stood there, watching the program through, not knowing the music but certain it was playing in Yuri's earbuds. All the needed jumps were there. The timing was right. This was not the type of program Yuri would have thrown out last year. This wasn't the type of program that would be able to win a gold at a GP qualifier. However, Yuri had lost all his standing in the scores. With what Viktor saw and knew the other Russian skaters were performing, there was every possibility that the program would be able to put Yuri back on the podium at Nationals. To get back on the podium at Nationals meant a chance at a spot on the National teach for Worlds. It was never a guarantee, of course, a bronze at nationals didn't mean you got the third slot. It made it very likely though.
When Yuri's eyes met his from across the ice, the frown he saw confused him. Then he saw the look, the one that Yuri always tried to hide, the same hopefully look from when the boy had been twelve and looking to him for approval. Viktor knew whatever he said next would determine more than he wanted responsibility for.
If he chided Yuri or made him feel as if that program were insignificant and beneath him -- no, Viktor didn't want to think of what damage that could do. He'd already been hurt too much, he didn't want to hurt anyone. Instead, Viktor went with honest.
"Yurio! Yakov didn't say you have a competition program!"
"Not my name asshole!"
Viktor found himself smiling as Yuri skated over to the boards, "Hand me my water."
Viktor reached behind him, grabbing the water bottle to hand it over, pleased with that reaction. Yes, this was not Japan. Yuri's name was not Yurio. "Then what should I call you? Yuri is much too impersonal. I am not Yakov to be screaming out Plisetsky across the ice. Yurochka makes me think you should be in my 8AM beginners class"
"Fuck you, Viktor. Just fucking call me Yura and you fucking well knew that before you asked." Yuri was smiling though before he swallowed down some of the water.
"You changed your leg."
"Can't land on my right anymore."
"Most people would retire."
"I'm not most people." With that, Yuri set down the water bottle on the ledge and skated back out onto the ice, this time the program was rougher, but Viktor recognized this as well -- a short program. Someone was planning on returning to competition and Viktor was suddenly feeling an excitement for this job he hadn't expected.
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