The video
With a sigh, Victor slumped down on his sofa in his St. Peterburg flat. He had to admit that he was a little exhausted. Only yesterday had he returned from the World Championship in Tokyo, and today he had already been back on the ice.
„Aaah, Makkochin", the silver-haired Russian moaned theatratically when his brown poodle jumped to him onto the sofa and settled beneath his legs. „Coach was so cruel today. And young Plisetzki bugged me about helping him all the time. He's become quite ambitious, that one."
„Woof!"
„Sigh, you're right. Complaining won't do."
Victor reached for the cell phone on the table. Now that he finally had some leisure time, he wanted to check his new messages. This afternoon, he apparently had only received one. A video link.
„Oh, it's from Christophe."
Christophe Giacometti. A Swiss figure skater, good friend and sort of rival of Victor, always ranked closely behind him. Smiling, the Russian summoned a picture of blonde Christophe. He was a pleasant friend, and Victor was happy that they were keeping regular contact. ,You'll find this interesting', the Swiss had now written beneath the link. Why that?
Then Victor saw the video's title.
„What the…?!"
He couldn't believe his eyes. ,Yuri Katsuki tries to skate Victor Nikiforov's free program'. Victor read it again. And again. Memories began to surface. First one of a black-haired Japanese young man; a fellow figure skater, who had come in as last at the Sochi Grand Prix one year ago. Who had shown potential but not exploited it at all. Who was often failing at major tournaments. Then he remembered the World Championship in Tokyo. There, Victor had skated to a song called „Stay close to me". A free skating program that even he hadn't come up with the coreography easily.
And this guy, ranked last at the Sochi Grand Prix, which had basically ended his career… this guy had had a go at his program?
,You'll find this interesting', Christophe had written. And he had, as always, been right.
Victor started the video. He wouldn't know until he saw. After a few seconds, he was already transfixed, eyes glued to the small screen. Could barely believe what he saw. Was that really the Yuri Katsuki? It seemed to be a completely different man on the ice. The way he moved… he skated the program perfectly. In fact, to Victor it was almost as if he was watching himself. It… it was as if Yuri's body was producing the music instead of moving to it. The Russian had no other words to describe the perfection he saw. Had he not been so entranced by it, he might have gotten angry with Yuri to have kept hidden that brilliance of his.
It was… captivating. Stirred something inside Victor that he hadn't felt for ages.
Excitement. A desire for more. Joy. Things that he had felt back at the very beginning of his career. But as time passed, after success followed success, those feelings had dulled. Instead, a kind of boredom had taken over. Sure, Victor still loved skating – and winning, true to his name – but everything had gotten tainted by a touch of boredom. Not that he'd let on. Never. He still adored his fans. And yet… Here was this boy, barely a man grown, and woke all those old sentiments. Made him feel alive in a way he hadn't in ages.
The end came so suddenly, that he didn't notice it for a few seconds. „Hn." His head gave a little jerk when he snapped out of his trance. And the desicion came to him instantly. „Do you already know what you're going to do next season?", one oft he journalists had asked him after his victory in Tokyo. Back then, he hadn't had an answer.
Now he did.
Victor stared down on the frozen video The figure in black on a field of white ice. Well… in one year, he was going to see how good he was as a coach.