Author's Note: My first YOI fic! I'm happy with how it turned out despite my initial impression of this just being an emotion-dump after powering through the entire series. The characters in YOI are beautifully complex, so I hope this gives readers a different facet of their motivations and personalities.
The Dream
Everyone seeks eternity, but very few achieve this dream.
His grandfather's words echo with an audible force that rattles his core.
You will be remembered. You will achieve the dream and live forever, Yurochka.
Yuri extends his arabesque into a 6-o'clock, his hands anchored to the makeshift-barre that is the railing of his hotel room balcony. Truthfully, he doesn't need the support – it won't be there to catch him on the ice.
Barcelona sleeps beneath him in innocent anticipation of morning, but dawn already sits along the distant waters. He raises his hand to shield against the sun. In Moscow, it's rare to see the sun before 7 and strings of cotton candy clouds constantly shroud St. Petersburg in a gray haze. Maybe all of Russia thinks the sun is just a myth, but here it is, natural as air. Today is yours to take, it tells him.
Yuri has worked too hard to accept any alternative outcome. Every fiber in his being remembers the successes and failures of turbulent years on and off the ice. His skin is an ever-growing scrapbook of scars and bruises.
But his body is changing and he knows it all too well. The way the intonation of his voice wavers mid-sentence or the fact that he can now see over his grandfather's shoulder is enough of an indication of the inevitable. At some point, maybe he will no longer be able to catch up to all of his changing. Or perhaps maybe his body won't continue to grow even if he does.
The way he is now is only temporary, a time-ticking bomb with no regard to what he wants. Right now, what he wants is to win gold. Grandfather expects it. He needs it.
So Yuri needs to gain strength.
He switches legs, this time supporting his left foot squarely over the crown of his head. His left stretch always falls short, so he compensates with a tighter pull and a subsequent wince. His body cannot contain him much longer, but where his body falters, his mind screams to persevere.
He pulls harder. To hell with his body - he won't need it once he achieves eternity.
Later that night, he meets with Otabek at the cobblestoned corner cafe and away from the bustle of the plaza.
Yuri doesn't recall agreeing to anything but decides to go along with it. He had nothing better to do in his hotel room, so he might as well go out with a friend.
Friend. The thought itself is foreign, yet the fluttering excitement in his chest betrays any doubts he once had over the idea.
Neither of them drinks coffee, they quickly learn. Despite this, Otabek goes ahead and orders two espressos. The blatant distaste in Yuri's face doesn't prompt Otabek to change their order and he simply replies with a shrug, "when in Rome."
"That's stupid," Yuri points out. "We're in Barcelona."
"You need to get out more," Otabek says through the faint trace of a smirk.
A smile escapes the corner of Yuri's lips in turn. "I don't want to hear that from you." Every skater knows little of life outside his trade. The ones serious about going gold, anyway.
When the the espresso arrives, it's not what they expect. They glance in muted disbelief at the tiny cups placed in front of them then at each other.
Yuri points to his cup in distrust. "I feel like I've just been scammed."
"Drink, "Otabek says unconvincingly, raising his cup to Yuri. "You won't know until you try it."
Yuri grunts in defeat and lifts his cup to meet halfway with Otabek's. In one motion, the cup meets their lips with liquid coating their tongues and burning their throats. The appalling bitterness shoots up their noses and lingers long after settling in their stomach.
Even after an overlooking waitress explains the proper way to enjoy their drink, they both decide that coffee would never be for them and that espresso was the epitome of all things disgusting. They laugh it off faster than they can complain any more about the persistent taste. Otabek also has much to learn for himself.
Yuri can't stop grinning. The entire situation is unreal – to be sitting across a rival in mutual awareness and bliss. All he knows is that he'll remember this moment forever.
And when he wins gold, he'll live forever in that moment as well.
Which is why Yuri finds it odd that in all his years of knowing why he skates, it hasn't once occurred to him to wonder why anyone else does. Why anyone chooses to strive after the fall. Why anyone decides to rise to the challenge.
Then: "Say Otabek, what made you want to continue skating?"
Yuri expects hesitation where there is none.
"I want to live forever." There is a longing in his voice that makes Yuri shift uncomfortably. An unsettling silence stretches between them, but the all the words that fly through Yuri's mind sound inadequate.
"I guess we're really alike," he finally says.
Otabek shakes his head. "It's not just you and me. Anyone who performs or creates will dream the same dream, whether they realize it or not."
The longing in his voice transforms into a nostalgic lilt that matches the softness in his eyes. Does he know others who share the dream?
"But not everyone's gonna be known for winning gold," Yuri points out, arms folded across his chest. How can the same dream sustain thousands of people and push them to achieve the same feat when only a handful will ever achieve it?
Otabek unlocks his fingers and lowers them from this face. His expression is still, save for the gleam in his eyes as he leans in closer to align their gaze.
"Sometimes, it's not the achievement they remember. It's how you make them feel after they've seen you struggle and rise despite it. When you can inspire others to action - push them to do better – you become a force that stays with a person for as long as they live."
Yuri's eyes widen in surprise. This is how Otabek remembered Yuri – the Russian boy with the eyes of a soldier staring back at his own. This is what Otabek remembered on days when he was overcome with everything he was born without.
It's amazing to think that five years later, they now face one another, each with his own ambitious gaze.
He meets the other's eyes in unsaid understanding. You have helped me become who I am today.
Yuri bites his tongue in an attempt to hide his disbelief. Were there people who actually looked up to him? Was it possible that he was making a difference without having anything to show for but himself? He was so busy catching up with himself that he didn't realize that others were watching with keen eyes.
"Whether I win gold or not, I will achieve the dream by being myself." Otabek says with steady determination. "How will you achieve your dream?"
Yuri doesn't know how to answer that anymore.
From the sidelines, he witnesses the world fall into a deafening silence around Otabek and the ice he owns for five monumental minutes.
With a discerning eye, he notes the glaring limitations in his fellow skater's capabilities. Upper body too stiff. More speed needed to go into that jump. Center your body, dammit!
Yet despite his flaws, the audience is captivated by the performance of the skater who rose above his own deficits.
From the sidelines, he witnesses Otabek land all his jumps, make history for his country, and achieve his dream.
The applause from the audience is a muted cacophony behind his thoughts. How can Yuri hope to be remembered for anything without winning gold? He's only managed to be second best the entire season, so what makes him think he can overcome the title now?
Is he strong enough to win gold and inspire others?
He steps onto the ice. It doesn't matter what he thinks.
The next moment, the ice is relinquished to his possession. It's funny how much steadier he feels on ice than on land. Vague memories of the people and places he has come to love blur into a single emotion strong enough to calm his apprehension.
He prays to discover power. But there is no power where he seeks, only the humility to serve.
Somewhere, there are strangers connected by the same force that move them towards the dream. They tug at his at his heartstrings and lift up his spirits, these strangers waiting to be inspired.
The atmosphere is charged with suspense, but Yuri has never been more certain in his life. It doesn't matter how he achieves the dream - he knows that he has the power to see it through.
Watch me closely, he thinks to himself. Everything I do is for you, and that makes me strong.