In a Moment I met my future equal...
The applause surrounding the vibrant Ice Hall, were the Ice show had just ended. Foreign blue eyes searched the crowd, for those deep brown eyes, which had captivated the 18 year old Russian. Slender hands, lifted up as if to raise his hand to ask a question, however the other participants of the Ice show scattered. A worthy finale went before the crowd, as tantalizing Spanish tunes. Echoed along the speakers, clapping his hands, Viktor spun himself into gentle spins, one firm toe-pick against the ice.
Double clap, in tandem with the music, gasps of wonder picked up along with the audience. A passionate flamenco came to life upon the rink. Within two sweeping quad jumps one knee gliding along the slippery surface. Arms stretched in a welcoming gesture, were there only seemed to be a temporary sphere between dark brown, and foreign blue eyes. Yuri's face erupted with a similar crimson flame, covering the fourteen year old's cheeks. As quickly as it had begun, the enchantment between the two ended.
The Audience enthusiastically clapped at the display of such a unique control, meanwhile our favourite ice skater Yuri, absently kept touching his heated cheeks. While he walked to the train station, it was odd. Seeing as Yuri himself had not been on the ice beside his idol. However his berating heartbeats thumping against, weary lungs seemed to believe otherwise. "No, noo, simply not possible. He was assuredly looking like that at the entire audience, and not on me.."
These arguing speech patterns continued, all the way back to Hasetsu, and his family's onsen. But when Katsuki Yuri, touched his cheeks once more, and his left hand went up to his excited heartbeat. Yuri had already laid down on his bed prepared for sleep, but those blue eyes had certainly done something to the young skater. Weary and tired he soon fell asleep, with a new conviction inside his heart. "One day we will be on the same ice.."
After the weekends rush of events had settled a little further inside Yuri's young heart. The black haired boy was thrilled at the prospect of, trying out some of the routine. He had seen Viktor perform during the final round of the Ice Show, Yuri chuckled to himself. The mandatory school uniform shoes shimmered with, a hint of black in the morning sun. A suitcase formed schoolbag, and his personal bag with ice skates, a towel, a bottle for water. Yuri's own personal stroll, with a straight back and still capable of not looking to feminine, even if some of his actions had been set from years of ballet.
This might be why Yuri at times would try a pirouette or hopping down one step at a time, with one leg stretched out, arms balancing his body, down the steps from Yu-topia Katsuki Onsen, one of the few remaining hot springs in Hasetsu. With a stable flow of regular customers mainly from Hasetsu themselves, and at times tourists could enjoy a muscle relaxing bath. In one of the many natural springs, Yu-topia had been built around. The fourteen year old's last pirouette down the last step, for then to try and swing into fluid and firm stance meant for flamenco.
This was the mystified display Yuko found when saw Yuri's attempt at a faulty she made certain to rant into his ear, on their way to their respective schools. Of all the ways such a stunt, could have gone wrong, as Yuri had not yet reached his growth spurt quite yet. Unnecessary stunts could very likely ruin Yuri's already promising future within figure skating.
The river of Neva still held a few, broken sheets of ice. The shimmering city lights of St. Petersburg reflected against the surface, upon the chilled early evening in March. A brown winter coat kept a young and blonde 18 year old warm. As his winter boots were yet again required, to avoid having the slushing and steadily melting snow. Making his feet cold and wet, completely unbearable to even try and skate with cold feet. Which is where we, find out that Viktor Nikiforov preferred to keep his feet warm. Against the winds that would sweep up along Neva, from the Baltic Sea. The quivering breeze would twirl around the unsuspecting pedestrians on their way home from work, or to usher their children to an assortment of cultural activities. Viktor sighed in relief as his eyes glanced at the familiar sign ahead, toward his home base for ice skating. Familiarly inside the entrance hall, he had a quick chat with his coach Yakov. Those dark eyes…narrowed in disbelief, when Viktor began babbling about a Veela, appearing before him while in Japan.
The older man held his weathered and aged hand, closely against his forehead. Before the hand slid slowly down along, greying strands of hair. And a receding hairline, a heavy sigh upon the worn wrinkles near the older coach's mouth. "Vitya…How can you be so assured of it being an actual Veela? You do know they are most of the time represented as women who died a tragic death?" Viktor couldn't help but feel like his creative rush, which had carried him all the way from Japan and back home to Russia.
Crumbled ever so slightly as the 18 year, had already learned of the mythical Vila from his grandfather. Viktor truly felt like defending his Japanese Veela, so one of the few occasions where his Russian upbringing returned with a quick *on button* inside the prodigy skater's mind. "Now listen here Yakov, I am telling you the full truth. I even brought back some evidence; I have a dvd where you can see my Japanese Veela skate my routines."
Replied Viktor tersely, surprisingly cold, as the blonde's blue eyes seemed to become a shade brighter. At the inclination, that he would make up something like this. When it came to the very sport he loved with all his heart. Yakov relented, and simply allowed Viktor to have his way this once. So many had speculated if Viktor was even a true Russian, but if they had known Viktor for the many years Yakov had learned about his prodigy. Yakov…might say that, none had the amount of hardworking Russian spirit as Viktor Nikiforov. Already settled into the screening room was Viktor's fellow rink-mate Georgi Popovich, with strewn sketches of different spins, jumps and sequences for skating. Laying down his pencil and paper, Georgi did notice the fringe of glacier wedged between Viktor and Yakov. He had seen it before, but it ever so rarely happened these days. Viktor's eyes reminded Georgi of icicles, often hanging down from the street lamps during the winter. Eerie blue and distantly cold, observing Viktor made no time for small chat, as they usually did, as he put a shining dvd into the slot in the back of the tv. Not long after pressing play at the back, did the tv awake and showed a young boy on ice skates on a large ice rink.
With ruffled black hair and dark brown eyes, but what was so familiar about those sequences. "Viktor..is that not the routine you used during your debut in Bulgaria, not two years ago?" Georgi was stunned someone, much younger than him was able to show their emotions so passionately on the ice. A quick glance at Viktor's eyes showed that the gaze had softened significantly, and was that a faint blush Georgi could see, as Viktor's gaze was locked on the boy skating to his old routine. A surprisingly warm smile tugged at Viktor's lips in response. "Yes Georgi, it is my old routines…" Viktor trailed off again, Georgi took a chance to glance over at their coach.
Whom seemed very much deep in thought, calculating, observing the boy on the tv screen. "What is that boys name? Viktor were you able to talk to him?" First Viktor shook his head in the negative, however when he looked back at his fellow rink-mate, the blonde man said. "In that moment, I met my future equal"…
AN: Hi everyone chapter two is now up! I would like to say thank you to all the lovely follows on this story, and the reviews who encouraged me to give you chapter 2 more quickly!I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it, also if you have questions, requests or even some critique. Please do send me a pm or review down below, I'd love to hear how you believe this story should progress. I have begun briefly on chapter 3, but there are still a few details missing.
-Slavic Mythology-
It was mentioned to me that not all of you might know what a "Veela or Vila" is. The most simplest version is that a Vila, is the russian version of a nymph. that controls the winds. Some other myths, tell about women who lead a tragic death that are turned into Vila. However you can also read about specifically Vila women seducing mortal men and "spiriting" them away from this world. The myths say that if you cut the hair off a Vila they can very easily die, but if you keep some of the hair or their Vila skin. You are able to trap them as mortals.