Chapter Text
Gen darted down the street, a cup of coffee in one hand, his phone in the other. He was frantically tapping out an On my way! message to his cousin. Per usual, he was running slightly late to their monthly hangout.
He had a good reason this time though, really!
He had taken on a new student today, a little boy with a weak leg and no words but a fire in his eyes. Gen had noticed Pheris peering in through the studio windows the past few days as Gen gave fencing lessons.
After his last scheduled lesson of the day, Gen had invited the boy inside to show him a foil. He hadn’t missed the brief smile that lit up Pheris’s face the first time he touched the weapon. Then Gen had helped him get suited up into a lamé and a mask.
Gen had just started to show him the first position when a frazzled-looking woman barged into the studio in search of her son. “Pheris!” she had called out impatiently, and the boy had slipped off the lamé and out the door before Gen had time to say anything besides, “Come back anytime!”
And then Gen had realized he was late to meet Helen at the park. Even so, he had to stop in at his favorite cafe for some caffeine, which was why he was now running down the street with his coffee.
Gen finished sending his message as he approached the tall bank building right next to the park, and he looked up from his phone to see someone else quickly rounding the corner.
He tried to stop, but the arm holding his beverage collided with the person’s front, sending a splash of coffee onto both of them.
“Ah, shit! I’m sorry,” Gen said, though he wasn’t sure who was more at fault. Maybe his for running with coffee? At least it had been iced coffee and not a hot drink.
The woman’s head was bowed as she surveyed the damage to her cream-colored coat, her dark wavy hair cascading down in front of her in a curtain.
“Sorry,” Gen muttered again and waited for an angry rebuke.
When the woman lifted her head, her eyes were indeed full of fury, but it quickly morphed into surprise.
Seeing her face, Gen felt his heart leap into his throat. “Irene?”
“Eugenides,” she said. She was the only one who called him by his full name. “It’s been a while.”
“It has,” Gen breathed out, and he was reminded of a time when even a couple days without seeing Irene had felt like an unbearable eternity. But it had been over three years since he last saw her, and here he was, still surviving.
The silence stretched out as they stared at each other. Gen found himself drinking in her appearance like a man dying of thirst. She was as beautiful as ever, perhaps more so than he remembered. His eyes catalogued the minute changes on her face, committing them to memory.
“So,” Irene said cautiously, “how have you been?”
Gen blinked. “Pretty good… My wrist healed,” he said, holding up the arm with the half empty coffee cup. “Not enough to go back, but,” he shrugged, “enough to do regular stuff.”
Irene smiled, but her eyes were unreadable. “Good, I’m glad.”
There was a pause before Gen remembered to ask, “And you? How are you doing?”
“Also good. I’m still with the team.”
Gen had known that already. He had seen the articles after his old head coach at Attolia Gymnastics had retired and Irene had been promoted from assistant coach. “Training the next talent of our generation?”
Irene lifted a shoulder. “None so far that have your level of potential.”
The comment stung even though he knew she didn’t mean it to. “I don’t have any potential now.”
Irene looked angry again. “Eugenides, you have so much potential. Maybe not for making the Olympic gymnastics team, but you could do a lot of things. You’ve always been smart. You pick things up so quickly.”
“I- yeah, I know I can do a lot of stuff besides gymnastics. And I know I’m lucky that I only ended up with this scar and a weak wrist and nothing worse. It’s just, gymnastics was such a huge part of my life, you know? After the accident, I felt useless. And it’s still hard to shake that feeling sometimes.”
Her eyes softened. “If you’re looking for something to do, you could try out coaching at Attolia? We can always use some extra hands.”
His heart beat a little faster at the thought of spending his days with Irene again. But he wasn’t sure that would be totally healthy for him, and he really did enjoy his job at the fencing studio. “I actually am doing some coaching,” he told her, “at my dad’s place.”
“Oh, you got back into fencing.”
“Yeah,” Gen said, pleased that she had remembered. “I really like it. Teaching, that is.”
“I’m happy for you,” Irene said, reaching out to touch him on the elbow.
Gen flinched in surprise and inwardly cursed when Irene immediately withdrew her hand.
Irene checked her watch. “I should probably go. It was nice running into you, Eugenides, though I wish it wasn’t so literally.”
Wait, no! Gen didn’t want this to be the only interaction they had after three years. “Ah, don’t go!” he blurted out.
Irene looked at him expectantly.
“Can I text you later?” He struggled to come up with a reason besides because I’m still halfway in love with you . “About getting your coat cleaned? I’ll pay for it. You haven’t changed your number, have you?”
“I haven’t changed my number,” Irene said slowly, looking confused by how frantic he sounded, “but you don’t need to pay. We both should have been more careful.”
“I insist! Or at the very least, let me buy you dinner to make up for it? It would be nice to catch up more…” He trailed off, hoping his intentions weren’t obvious. Or if they were obvious, that she wasn’t put off by them.
Irene studied him for a moment. “Sure, we can get a meal. We can arrange the details over text.”
“Great,” Gen said, relieved. “I’ll see you later then.”
She gave him a faint smile and then went on her way, leaving Gen staring after her.
“So this is what you’ve been up to,” said a wry voice right next to his ear.
Gen startled, dropping his coffee and losing the remains of his drink to the sidewalk. He turned to see his cousin watching him with her arms crossed, a look half of amusement, half of concern, on her face.
“Really?” he said, gesturing to the sad state of his coffee.
Helen shrugged. “It’s not my fault you were so focused on Irene that you didn’t hear me coming. Guess you didn’t hear my calls either?”
Gen glanced down at his phone. Four missed calls from “Favorite Cousin 👑”. Oops . “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to watch you make a fool of yourself,” Helen smirked.
Gen slumped. “It’s her, she just brings it out in me.”
“So you’re still not over her, huh?”
“Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Helen echoed. “You gonna ask her out?”
“I think I have to.”
“You don’t have to do anything, Gen. I saw how your feelings tore you up inside back then. You can choose to just step away. You might never see her again, and you can move on.”
Gen shook his head. “I think… I think she might be it for me. And now that I’m older, now that she’s not my coach anymore, I feel like it might actually be possible. I have to try.”
“Okay,” Helen said simply. “Shall we get you a replacement coffee and then we can finally catch up?”
“I knew you were my favorite cousin for a reason.”
Helen rolled her eyes. “Because I was the only one who put up with your annoying childhood antics?” She ruffled his hair, causing him to duck away. “Come on, let’s go.”