Chapter Text
It was a well-known fact that everyone had some sort of affinity with one of the four elements; the proper term was elemental affinity. There were never clear signs until one was about eleven years old –whether they were best suited with fire, water, earth, or air– but once it had been decided, it consumed every aspect of people's lives.
Even though most parents worldwide were sure to tell their children that it didn’t matter which element they were suited to, they couldn’t possibly deny that everything was loosely sorted into the four categories. Jobs, friends– even some familial ties were made with elemental affinity in mind.
Legally, people didn’t have to reveal what their elemental affinity was on government documents, job applications, or even publicly, but the practice was so rarely continued that most people forgot that was an option.
To put it simply, Katsuki Yuuri did not forget.
He had stumbled upon the ice rink at an early age –solely because of Minako’s insistence– making note of the cold and clumsily fighting to keep himself upright. His instructor had chuckled heartily, grabbing his hands and telling him to stop trying to walk and start trying to glide. And so he did. By the end of his first lesson, Yuuri was skating shaky circles around the rink– though he was far ahead of his peers. He liked the feel of the air whistling past his ears and the scratchy sounds coming from the ice when he went over it with his blades. The only thing he didn’t like was the deep chill that settled on his skin when it was all over and he had to depart from the ice.
His instructor insisted on speaking to his mother after the lesson was over, for reasons that Yuuri could not fathom.
“... he has natural talent like I've never seen before…” Yuuri had caught bits and pieces of the conversation. “He's definitely a water user, I’d say– all ice skaters are…”
His mother had been smiling proudly; she was as warm as the earth that she had an affinity for.
“His father will be so pleased,” he had heard his mother say. Yuuri’s father was an earth user as well, but he had always admired water.
“Water aids the earth,” he had said thoughtfully one night as Yuuri sat at his feet, gazing up at the stars from his spot on the wooden porch. “For that, we are grateful.”
Yuuri was older when he saw Victor Nikiforov skate for the first time. The skater was a water user; it was plain to see. The way he moved across the rink, with such grace– he looked like an ethereal god, come to gift all of mankind with his skating. Yuuri thought he could see the ice responding to the boy through the grainy quality of the television screen, pushing Victor forward, almost urging him on.
“Showing the true power of water users on ice, Victor Nikiforov has outdone himself once again!” An announcer was practically shouting into his microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, you are witnessing ice skating history!”
Yuuri had laughed giddily. He decided, then and there, that he would one day meet Victor on ice. His eleventh birthday was coming up soon, and he was prepared for his water powers to form, creating the extra strength he needed to elevate his skating routines.
Yuuri’s fingers had tingled with excitement. He couldn't wait to be a water user.
Unfortunately, whatever higher power there was that granted elemental affinity had different plans.
It had happened so quickly that Yuuri didn’t have time to process it. One morning, about a week after he turned eleven, he was making up a mathematics exam. He was the only one in the room –other than his teacher– and he was almost done. After he answered the last question, he sighed with relief, grasping the test with both of his hands, standing up to turn it in.
And then it happened.
Bright blue flames burst from his hands and he incinerated his paper. He was frozen to the spot, eyes transfixed upon the flames curling upon his hands, seemingly rising higher and higher, the charcoal ashes of his exam drifting slowly to the floor.
His teacher looked up. “Oh my goodness, Yuuri…”
She rushed over, hands filling with water. She placed his hands just over the flames, letting water fall from her open palms to Yuuri’s.
But the fire wouldn't stop.
The teacher’s eyes widened. “That's not supposed to happen… this was supposed to work!”
She knelt before him, looking at him in the eyes.
“Yuuri, only you can stop this. You have to control your powers. Will the fire to stop. Make it.”
Yuuri snapped out of his daze. He concentrated for a moment. The fire died down eventually, but very slowly, the flames slowly receding, seeping back into his skin.
His teacher seemed to breathe again. “Yuuri, come with me.”
“But my exam…” Yuuri managed to say weakly.
“I'll exempt it.” She looked down at Yuuri. “This is a… special case.”
“...the flames didn't recede when I put water on them…” Yuuri was sitting outside of the headmaster’s office, eavesdropping on the conversation. “We have to contact his family…”
His parents were devastated. Yuuri could hear his mother shouting through the thin walls of the office. “How is he supposed to ice skate after this? Who has ever heard of a fire user on ice?”
In that moment, Yuuri fully realized what he was. A fire user.
His mother was still shouting, he noted, a faint ringing pulsing in his ears.
They brought him inside once she had calmed down. When the headmaster said “fire user”, his parents visibly winced.
“I'm afraid there's more,” his teacher spoke up. “We think…” she glanced at the headmaster, in a silent argument. “Well, I think that Yuuri has powers that are a bit… rarer than regular fire users. I'd like have a colleague conduct some basic tests if that's alright.”
Katsuki Hiroko looked wary, but she gave a curt nod. Yuuri’s father was silent, staring at his hands, as still as a statue.
Over the next few days, Yuuri skipped lunch, heading outside into the one of the neighboring fields to take the test to reveal the full extent of his powers. The tests weren't as difficult as Yuuri had thought they would be, though they were quite odd. The examiner was an old man, the wrinkles on his face crinkled in no particular semblance of order.
He talked quietly, giving commands in a low but gentle voice. So far, whatever the man had asked Yuuri to do, he was able to perform.
Banned from skating, a discouraged Yuuri slowly found out what powers he had. He was a strong fire user, he was told. There was one particular feature about Yuuri’s powers that perplexed the examiner the most.
“I don’t understand why only you can put out the fires you cause. No one else, not even the strongest water users, the strongest fire users… Not even me.”
(The man was a particularly strong fire user himself, but even he couldn’t force the flames to settle. The first time he had tried, he let out a yelp, the sound tinged with pain but mostly astonishment. “That was the first time I’ve ever been burned. I didn’t know it hurt this much.”)
Yuuri watched him scratch his chin. “I wonder what would happen if we set something on fire and tried to have you put it out without touching it.”
“I will try my best, sir.”
The man tapped his hand on a picnic table. “Light it on fire,” he instructed.
Though he was worried about damaging school property, Yuuri obliged. It took almost no effort on his part, which still scared him. Instantly, the picnic table was in flames, the old wood crackling and popping at the sudden heat.
“Step back,” the old man said.
Yuuri did.
“Now concentrate. Focus your attention to the flames, not the wood. Tell them to stop. Imagine them growing smaller and smaller, until they disappear.”
At first, nothing happened. The poor picnic table continued to disintegrate, slowly becoming more and more blackened.
Then Yuuri’s eyesight started becoming more blurred, darkness seeping into the corners of his vision.
He collapsed. Yuuri processed the old man rushing over to him, his arms surprisingly strong and steady as he lifted Yuuri up in his arms.
“You did it,” he whispered. “You put out the fire.” Yuuri’s eyes closed.
He snuck out when he couldn’t take it anymore, taking advantage of the fact that the streets were dark and deserted, families heading to bed after dinner. The Katsuki home was suffocating, the tension apparent whenever Yuuri left his room. He grabbed his skates, careful not to set them on fire, and headed to the ice rink. His instructor had given him a key to the back door a long time ago, when he had managed to complete his first sit spin.
“You deserve it,” he had said, pressing the cool metal into his hand. “Come back whenever you like, even when you’re the most famous ice skater in the world.”
Technically, he was not allowed to skate. Strictly speaking, he was expressly banned from skating by both his parents and the school’s administration. They had told him that it was too unpredictable, and that his powers would only get stronger as he grew, and it would be impossible to reign in his elemental affinity enough to not melt the ice, especially when skating so rigorously.
“You’re potentially the strongest fire user of the last century,” the old man had told him a few days after the burning picnic table incident. “No one has ever been able to do what you’re doing now. We just have to train you to control it so you don’t decimate everything around you.”
“And then I can ice skate again?” Yuuri had asked hopefully.
The old man looked somber. “We’ll see,” he had said, but the melancholy and pity in his eyes clearly said “no”.
He pressed the key into the lock, hearing the familiar harsh, grating sound as the door unlocked. It had been months since his eleventh birthday, and he had spent none of that precious time skating.
No one was there, as he expected. He slid his skates on carefully, noticing that the familiar tightness of the skate was also intermingled with an new but inherent sense of warmth. He laced them delicately, more careful than ever.
Ever so slowly, he stepped onto the ice. It hissed underneath the blades of his skates, the heat from his feet transferring onto the rink. The ice already started to melt a little– small droplets of water formed from the ground beneath him. Yuuri breathed heavily, trying not to panic as that would only make things worse.
Cold, cold, cold, he thought. I am cold. He thought of Victor’s face, imagining how cool and collected the water user must be on ice. I am as cold as Victor. I am as cold as Victor.
He dared to glide forward a little bit, eyes shut tight in concentration. He felt his body temperature lower, slowly but surely. He laughed breathily, giddy with relief.
He was still skating when he got a call from his mother. She was going mad with worry.
“Yuuri, it’s six in the morning! Where are you?”
“I…” He considered lying to her, but then thought better of it. “I was skating. Mom, I can control it. I can skate.”
He heard his mother’s breath hitch. “Yuuri, are you on ice right now?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re not… melting the rink?”
Yuuri laughed, glad that she was more curious than angry at his blatant disregard of her rules. “It was difficult at first, but I’ve discovered a… method to control it.” A mental picture of Victor landing a quad flashed through his head.
Before she could say anything else, Yuuri spoke again. “Mom, I want to skate again. I can control myself. I can do this.”
She sounded concerned but Yuuri thought he could hear a hint of pride in her voice. “The strongest fire user of the century wants to be an ice skater? Very well.”
“I won’t disappoint you,” Yuuri said, voice coated with emotion. “I will make you proud.”
Yuuri could practically see his mother smile. “I know.”
Hiding his powers on ice, Yuuri found, was much easier than hiding his powers from his roommate Phichit. He was quite possibly the most fiery water user on the planet. He would make water dance in his hands, the shapeless blobs moving in random synchronous movements. He, like the rest of the world, assumed that Yuuri was a water user– all figure skaters were.
“How come I’ve never seen you use your water powers?” Phichit asked him one day as they were sitting at the breakfast table in their dorm.
“Oh,” Yuuri flushed pink. “In my family, elemental affinity is… very private.” He decided not to elaborate, because less was more when it came to Phichit.
“Okay,” Phichit’s tone was cavalier. “What’s for dinner?”
Yuuri smiled. “Katsudon.”
Phichit let out a squeak of excitement. He said that there was always something that made Yuuri’s food stand apart from the rest of the students in the dorm. Yuuri was not surprised– the stove in the kitchen was useless, and Yuuri knew how to make the stove fire’s setting just right, much to the amazement of his roommates.
“Delicious!” Phichit exclaimed after his third bowl. “Yuuri, your presence has been bestowed upon humankind so that we may bow down to you while you simply grace us with your beautiful skating and cooking.”
Yuuri blushed. “Thank you, Phichit.”
“What are your plans for Sochi?” he asked Yuuri. “It must be something amazing, something that will blow everyone away!” He leaned closer to Yuuri, eyebrows waggling in a suggestive manner. “Something that will ensnare Victor Nikiforov! ”
Yuuri groaned. “I have both programs basically done, but I would really appreciate if you would stopped talking about Victor.”
“Ooh, I have to see the routines! You only have a few more months until the Grand Prix– I know I didn’t qualify but I could still give you some pointers,” Phichit clapped his hands excitedly. “Yuuri, let’s go to the ice rink now.”
Yuuri was tired to the bone, but he smiled all the same. “Okay, let me get my skates.”
The Grand Prix seemed so far away, but it was coming closer and closer so rapidly that it made Yuuri a little nauseous.
Yuuri skated to the center of the rink, the bright lights of the Grand Prix arena focused on his face. Suddenly, he felt heat, more intense than he had ever felt before, consuming him from the inside out. He tried to calm himself down, but then the fire came, first from his sweaty palms, then rapidly from his entire body. His clothes were fireproof, but even they started getting singed. Yuuri looked down, desperate as he saw the ice giving out beneath his feet, water soaking his skates and pants. He turned his head around wildly, calling out for help as he burned through the entire ice skating rink. Yuuri saw Victor, laughing at Yuuri’s misfortune; it was a cruel, taunting thing, and Yuuri felt it slice his heart into pieces.
Victor was laughing louder now, and Yuuri felt himself sink, slowly… slowly… slowly…
“Yuuri! Wake up!”
Yuuri woke with a start. Celestino was staring down at him, looking worried. “Your short program is today.” He left when he made sure that Yuuri was up.
Yuuri fumbled, haphazardly putting his glasses on. He was glad he didn’t set his sheets on fire, but he did notice warily that they were smoking a bit on the ends.
He felt okay for a couple of moments, but then the fact hit him again. Vicchan was dead. His beautiful dog, the poodle he hadn’t seen in five years. Gone. He didn’t even get to say goodbye. He was an absolute mess, damp hair sticking to his skin, eyes stinging and puffy.
He had no idea how he was going to skate without cataclysmically screwing it up.
He managed not to mess up his step sequences and not to completely melt the entire rink, but everything else was disastrous. As he stepped off the ice, he made eye contact with Celestino, apologizing with his eyes because no sounds came out of his mouth.
Yuuri was going to stop ice skating professionally, he had decided. He was getting too old to try over and over again, to ultimately fail. He wanted to go home. He wanted the warmth of his mother’s arms, he wanted to see his father’s soft smile. He didn’t want this anymore.
Yuuri knew he was an ugly crier– his face was buried into his hands when the bathroom stall was kicked open.
“What the hell? What kind of water user are you?”
Yuri Plisetsky was standing before him, face contorted in anger. “I’m competing in the senior division next year. We don’t need two Yuris in the same bracket. Incompetents like you should just retire already!” The younger Yuri gave him a look of utter disgust. “Moron!”
His misfortune didn’t end there. “Yuri!” he heard a familiar voice. His heart stopped, and he felt his hands heat up, small flames curling in spirals around his fingers.
Victor Nikiforov, the source of the voice, wasn’t looking at him. He had collected water in his hands and lightly splashed it on Yuri Plisetsky, critiquing the step sequences in his free skate.
Plisetsky growled at Victor, sending spurts of water back, soaking Victor’s gray hair. “Ah, Yuri,” –his voice was playful– “you do realize that I can dry myself but you can’t dry yourself?”
“Screw you and your stupid extra powers,” the blond boy muttered before forcing Victor to dry him.
After Victor briefly ran his hands over Yuri’s head, effectively drying the junior gold medalist, he caught sight of the older Yuuri staring at him.
“A commemorative photo? Sure!”
Yuuri felt his heart sink, and he struggled to keep flames from consuming him. Hot springs, he thought. Hot springs. Water, water, water. ”
Yuuri managed to get out as quickly as possible, breathing a sigh of relief as the cool air hit his blisteringly hot skin as he left.
He said his goodbyes to Phichit, the boy crying when he heard that Yuuri was going back home. “Are you moving your home rink back to Japan?”
Yuuri shrugged, but he knew the answer. “I’m… I’ll think about it.”
Phichit glanced at him knowingly. “Do what’s best for you,” he finally said after a brief pause.
It was almost too easy to slip back into his old routine in Hasetsu. He helped out at the hot springs resort when he could, sweeping up the floors (and occasionally warming up the hot springs when it gets a bit too cold for the customers’ tastes).
It was a few weeks before he decided to take a trip to the ice rink. Yuuko worked there now, he had heard, and she would definitely let him in. He still had the key to the back door, but he opted to go in through the front.
“Our regular hours are over!” Yuuko called.
“It’s been a while, Yuuko-san.”
“Yuuri-kun?” She got excited, eyes widening as she realized that he was back after five years. “You came to skate, right?” She assured him that he could, and for that, he was grateful.
He walked with her to the rink. As he slipped onto the ice, he handed her his blue-rimmed glasses. “Um, I wanted you to see this, so I’ve been practicing it since the competitions ended.”
He looked at her but was concentrating on letting coolness overtake his body. “Please watch.”
He let the movements flow gently, imagining hot water flowing in the hot springs of his family’s resort. He had discovered the idea of picturing steaming hot water a few months after his debut in professional figure skating. He liked the idea of fire and water working together in harmony– it was fitting for all the routines he skated. There was no one in the world that could put out his fires, but he liked to think that this particular pool of water could stop his fires. He could be as outwardly passionate as he wanted without bursting into never-ending flames.
When he finished, Yuuko gave him a round of applause. When she called him a perfect copy of Victor, he was shocked to hear it.
Axel, Loop, and Lutz were as enthusiastic as ever, peppering him with questions that made him quite uncomfortable. He was quick to get off the ice when he felt himself start to get overwhelmed by their comments– he didn’t want to ruin the rink. Yuuri was invited to come back whenever he wished, and he thanked them kindly.
He was lying down on his bed when he decided to try Phichit’s little trick, but instead of water, he would use fire. He sat up, creating a small fire that danced on the open palm of his right hand. He squinted his eyes, trying to force the fire into shapes. After a few minutes, it finally seemed to work. Yuuri was surprised at the shape that formed, gliding down and up his arm. If he looked at it really closely, he felt like he could see the distinctive blue eyes and gray hair.
“Yuuri! What’s with that video? It’s being retweeted everywhere!” Mari seemed just as surprised as him.
The Nishigōri family was extremely apologetic, but the damage had already been done. Yuuri examined the video closely and he was horrified to see that there was the slightest amount of smoke coming off of his body. He was just glad that it could be passed off as his breath from the cold environment.
The shock died down after a while, and that made Yuuri insurmountably happy. He wanted to go back to being no one, to finally live down the horrible failure that was his performance in the Grand Prix.
After shoveling snow for his father (secretly torching it into oblivion when the neighbors weren’t looking), he was assaulted by a gargantuan ball of fur, falling onto the carpet in the lobby of the resort.
This can’t be… Yuuri thought.
“Yuuri, isn’t he just like Vicchan? He came with a really good-looking foreign guest.”
The dog in question jumped off Yuuri immediately because Yuuri’s body temperature skyrocketed in a matter of seconds.
“Don’t torch the lobby!” –he was chastised– “we just redecorated!”
Yuuri ran like he had never run before, headed to the hot spring pools.
Victor Nikiforov was there, a peculiar expression on his face.
“Why are you here?” Yuuri asked quietly, pink patches on his cheeks.
Victor stood up, and Yuuri nearly exploded into a fireball. He hid his hands behind his back, letting his hands’ flames rise steadily, but not high enough as to where Victor could see them.
“Yuuri, starting today, I’m your coach. I’ll make you win the Grand Prix Final." A smirk played on Victor’s lips. “As a fellow water user, I will help you with the best of my abilities– help you find powers you never knew you had!”
Yuuri felt the earth start spinning in the wrong direction. How was Yuuri supposed to hide the fact he was an ice skater that just happened to be the most powerful fire user of the century from Victor freaking Nikiforov?