"You can do anything, win anything, as long as you have something that motivates you. Something that pushes you to do your best." Yuuri told Hinata.

It was his first competition, and he was so nervous he almost threw up.

"What do you think of?" He asked, trying his best to quell the rising anxiety.

"You, your father, Makkachin. Everyone I care about." He paused before continuing for a moment, "Don't think about the judges, just think about one person. One person, you are doing this program for. They don't have to be here. They don't even have to be real, just think of that one person."

So he did. He thought of his fathers. He remembered all the videos and practices. All the jumps and swirls. That was what motivated him. His dad and his папа. He never thought that would change.

But it had.

--- 

It was time. The competition started in just a few hours. Everyone at the training camp had the afternoon off, and most had decided to go to the competition with their free time.

Most  being Karasuno and Nekoma, as well as a few other players who had been dragged along.

Everyone had changed from their training gear into something... warmer. Hinata was the only one who hadn't changed, telling them that it would be a waste to change into something, only to change out of it again for his performance outfit. He did, however, bring his black Karasuno jacket with him.

It wasn't long after they got there that the entire rink was filled with people, all of whom, seemed to personally know Hinata by the way they spoke about him.

When they saw Hinata again, he was wearing black pants that seemed to have been painted on his legs and his black skates, which they had learned were customary of male skaters. The top half of his outfit was hidden beneath his Karasuno Volleyball Club jacket. His hair was the same, but they assumed that was because trying to tame that mane of hair was impossible.

From beside them, someone yelled.

"Go Hinata. We're rooting for you." They looked over to see a slim woman holding up a banner. She stood next to a woman with short hair that reminded them of Coach Ukai and three girls who looked identical.

She turned to see them, and as soon as she noticed their jackets that matched Hinata's own, she began handing out banners for each of them with the help of who Kageyama assumed were 'the triplets' Hinata had mentioned.

"Oh, hi, I'm Minako. I taught Hinata's father how to figure skate, and helped Hinata out a bit as well. I'm so happy he's getting back into it, even if just for this one competition." Her voice saddened towards the end, but they decided to ignore it.

The three introduced themselves as Axel, Lutz, and Loop. They were the daughters of the people who owned the ice rink and the ones who launched the most successful part of Yuuri Nikiforov's career. After their introductions they turned back to the camera they had set up on a tripod.

"For future reference." They had cryptically claimed when Nishinoya asked.

As they looked out, they saw Hinata and the Russian skater who had challenged him warming up on the ice. Hinata looked tense. They couldn't have that.

So they cheered.

As they did, Hinata looked over and a smile adorned his face. He wasn't perfectly relaxed, but their presence helped.

It was time. Yuri was first, but Hinata couldn't bring himself to watch. He had never watched anyone who went before him, even his closest friends. It only served to make him more nervous. To give him something he had to love up to other than his own expectations.

By the way the crowd cheered, he knew Yuri was pulling all the stops. He could tell that all of his jumps had been landed perfectly. He could almost feel the smug grin on his face as he won.

Hinata shoved that last thought out of his mind. He had to win. If he won here, then they could win at Nationals. He could help them win.

When he heard the song end, he headed out. The room felt colder than usual, and he was reluctant to slip off his jacket. Then he scanned the crowd and caught a pair of eyes. Eyes the color of the sea.

He maintained eye contact as it slid off to reveal his red shirt. The one he had chosen specifically for Kageyama. Both of their faces flushed as they remembered.

"Red looks good on you."

He had decided then what program he would be doing. Even if it wasn't new or fresh like Yuri's had always been, it was one he knew by heart. One he could now pull off because he had the right person to focus on. The right motivation.

He was sure he heard the cheers, but the moment he stepped on the ice, a familiar feeling came over him. The feeling of calm focus that only happened on the ice or on the court. He waved to everyone, a smile plastered on his face as he skated to his starting position.

He looked down and could almost hear the crowd hold their breath. They all knew.

The music started and he looked to the sky. Thinking only of one thing, one person.

Kageyama.

He spun and danced, thinking only of his motivation. Then came his first jump. It was a quadruple lutz.

The crowd cheered as he landed it.

He saw his fathers by the side of the rink. There was something in their eyes he couldn't decipher in that split second.

Another jump. A quadruple flip. Perfect landing.

Right now, he didn't even care. He was too immersed in the music, in the thought of Kageyama by his side.

He twirled and the diamonds on his outfit sparkled. His step sequence was impeccable to anyone watching. His flying sit spin was perfect to all eyes.

The image in his head of Kageyama flickered to Yuri for a moment as he did the quadruple salchow. He faltered with his landing. He had gotten all his rotations. Everyone cheered. Had they even seen it?

His combination jump was next. It was flawless. His heart raced as he remembered Kageyama's promise to him. He had to win.

He wondered if the crowd could feel his performance, feel the need he felt, or if they could just see it. He had always been good at getting them to feel.

He felt sick as he spun. He always had. He had almost cut it from the program, but it was important. Every part of this performance was important. Nothing could be cut. Nothing could be removed. It had to be authentic.

The voice in the song grew as he skated. He could always feel the music, but it was different now. It was part of him.

The triple lutz was perfect.

The triple flip was beautiful.

The quadruple toe loop was magnificent.

The triple toe loop was stellar.

The spin was the worst part. He still felt like he was going to throw up. He had to do this. If he didn't it wouldn't be perfect. If he didn't he would have given up. If he didn't he would have to leave his friends behind.

He would have to leave Kageyama behind.

He finished, his arms folded in the air, his heart racing in his chest.

The cheers of the crowd seemed to die around him as he stood, frozen in time.

---

*me, haphazardly looking up synonyms to describe how perfect his moves were*