Summary: A pair of ballet shoes.
Yuuri was packing for his move to Russia. He was equally excited and worried, excited because he'd be with Viktor and they would be able to skate together and worried that the other Russian skaters would hate him for taking Viktor away for a season.
Yuuri took a breath as he stood in his room and looked around. His room was nearly empty, his things packed away in boxes. Some boxes were marked for storage to be stored away until he was fully settled in with Viktor, others were taped up and labeled, ready to ship to Russia in a few hours, hopefully they would arrive a few days after him.
It was strange seeing his childhood bedroom stripped to the barebones, his Viktor posters packed away, somewhat embarrassingly, to be place in storage. Yuuri's face had been a bright, burning red as Viktor had helped pack them away, the man himself grinning happily and gushing about how adorable Yuuri was.
Viktor had had to go back to Russia before Yuuri because Yakov insisted and Yuuri had told him to go since all he was doing was packing.
His desk that he'd been sitting at when his Yuuri on Ice music had come in was packed away and his bed had only the mattress left upon it.
Yuuri sat down on the bed and let his head rest in his hands, he could hardly believe this was really happening, that he was moving all the way to Russia to be with Viktor Nikiforov, the man he had always been in love with, even before he knew what love truly was. This room held so many memories for him. It was where he'd practiced his routines when not on the ice, where he'd first daydreamed about becoming good enough to skate on the same Ice as Viktor, where he'd often fanboyed about Viktor for years. Yuuri smiled, so much had happened in this room.
A bit of green caught his eyes and Yuuri crawled across the floor to peer under his empty bookshelf, reaching out and pulling the green thing out.
A tiny pair of ballet shoes rested in his hands and Yuuri had to smile as he sat back on his heels.
He remembered these shoes, remembered the exact moment that had led to him falling in love with dance, first Ballet and then, at the behest of Minako, skating, though it had been Yuuko's introduction to Viktor that handmade him want to compete.
Yuuri remembered that, back then, the Onsen hadn't been doing so well, and Yuuri had borrowed book after book and spent hours in secret trying (and Failing) to sew himself something that resembled the beautiful Danseur shoes that he had seen covering the Danseur's feet.
These tiny green shoes he held had been his first ballet shoes. He'd worn them and danced in them until Minako had gently told him that he needed proper ballet shoes and had handed him a prettily wrapped boxed and told him to open it.
Within was a pair of simple white, proper ballet shoes, and Yuuri, with the eagerness and joy of a young child receiving something that they truly wished for, had switched to them immediately, forgetting about the pair his mother had lovingly stitched for him.
Looking at the tiny shoes in his hands, Yuuri felt tears sting his eyes.
He'd been five years old when he'd caught a glimpse of a ballet danseur as he'd been shopping with his mother, it was the first time he'd left her side in distraction, she'd found him nearly an hour of panic later, just entranced with the way the danseur had moved their body.
He'd cried for hours when she had finally dragged him away to go home.
That year, for his birthday, she had gifted him with the pair of green, handstitched ballet shoes and a handful of beginner videos that he had watched, memorized and practiced until at seven his parents had been able to get him into Minako's studio where she had helped him fall deeply in love with movement and how his body could move.
She had introduced him to the ice and his love for ballet had dimmed to a smolder in the wake of the blaze that his love for ice skating had become.
Yuuri let his thumb trace over the silky fabric of the shoes as he stood up, setting the shoes on top of his carry-on.
Tomorrow he'd fly out, he'd land in Russia and Viktor would be there, likely with Yurio, to pic him up and Yuuri couldn't wait.
"What are these ugly things?" Yurio asked as he helped Yuuri unpack his things in Viktor's room, much to the boy's disgust.
"Aww, they are so tiny!" Viktor squealed as he took the ballet shoes carefully from Yurio, who scowled at him.
"My mom made them the year I fell in love with dance." Yuuri said as he stopped unpacking to look at the other two, "We couldn't afford store bought shoes or lessons that year or the next, but it was the first time I had shown more than a passing interest in anything, so my mom made them for me, for my birthday." Yuuri smiled, "Those were the first shoes I danced proper ballet in."
"That's so sweet." Viktor whispered, holding the tiny shoes against his chest, "I know where we should put them!"
Viktor left the room, Yurio and Yuuri following the man and they watched Viktor place the two tiny green shoes on the shelf that held the stands for all of his medals.
"We can move them when we get a shelf for your medals." Viktor smiled down at Yuuri as Yuuri wrapped his arms around Viktor's waist and cuddled into his side.
"No, I think the are right where they belong, they helped lead me to you, after all." Yuuri returned Viktor's smile.
"You're both gross." Yurio scoffed and stormed to the kitchen.
Yuuri and Viktor soon followed, leaving the shoes surrounded by medals.
Ballet shoes and medals, green silk and gold metal, soft and hard, perfectly opposite and yet somehow they fit just right.
Just like Viktor and Yuuri.
So, I took some artistic liberties about how Yuuri started to dance ballet, but I really like how this turned out. I hope you enjoyed it too.
