Until Yuri started living in US, he didn't know how easy he had it in Japan.
Granted, the training that his new coach had put him under had not been easy. Harder than any regimes that he had done back home. But it was not the skating that was truly difficult.
It was the fact that he was plunged head first into a foreign country, like a puppy falling through ice into a frozen lake, and he had to learn to swim back to the shore quick, or risked being overcome with the chill, and drowned.
After a week of arriving at Detroit, he had tried to purchase a new American cell phone, since the one he brought from Japan was not compatible. He had done many hours of research online, printed the pages of the model of phone and plan that he wanted, but even the navigation of the public bus system to the store was difficult. How he longed for simply walking to the closest convenience store in his home town and picked it up from the vending machine.
Finally, he managed to get to the mall after 2 bus transfers.
"Excuse me ... can you help me?" Yuri said, clutching the printouts in front of his chest like a life jacket.
A middle aged man wearing a denim shirt walked towards Yuri, temporarily stopping his chatter with his coworker. "Yes. What do you need?"
Yuri swallowed and had difficulty saying the next line. He settled for waiving the paper with the plan and phone that he wanted. "I want to buy this. Please."
"Okay," the man said, "do you want to go month to month or sign a contract?"
"Contract."
While the man was preparing his contract paperwork to sign, Yuri looked around the mall. It was bright, noisy and crowded, compared to the provincial small town that he was living all his life. He missed home, and regretted not taking his coach's offer for a ride to the mall. The USA was nothing like Japan. He was already sick of eating burgers and fries, and he longed for his Mom's katsudon.
"Sorry, we are out of stock of the phone that you wanted. Do you want to come back later? Or I can get you a different phone." The employee interrupted Yuri's thoughts.
Oh no, Yuri panicked, now what should he do. He didn't research for a backup plan, he should have thought of a Plan B before coming, but he was careless and now he wouldn't be able to get his American phone to call his family and friends and they would forget about him now that he no longer lived there ...
Yuri finally said, "thanks, a new phone is fine." He just wanted to get a phone, any device would do at that point.
The denim shirt employee grabbed an expensive looking Smart Phone to show him, and Yuri just nodded. He widened his eyes when he realized how much it actually cost, but he just wanted to get out of there at that point. He handed over his credit card, hoping there was enough limit left for food later. He had a monthly budget and he probably had exceeded it with a single purchase, but he was too tired to simply return later, or used his limited English to express what he could afford.
He thanked the employee with a wordless bow, and caught himself from the very Japanese gesture. What was he doing? He was not dealing with a Japanese and his polite bow would only confuse others. He settled for a quick wave of his hand and escaped.
He called home that night, apologizing to his parents for the extravagant purchase. His Dad laughed and said a good phone meant their son would have to call more often, and his Mom told him to take lots of camera photo to show them his new home. Yuri promised he would keep in touch.
He rolled onto bed and wondered when he would see his roommate, who was due to arrive next week.
Phichit was not what he had expected from a younger roommate - his smile was bright and infectious, and Yuri couldn't help but feel happy that he was bunking with a fellow Asian - not that they shared a common language. But Phichit understood the struggles of living in a foreign country, and being a visible minority. However, unlike Yuri, he didn't let the unfamiliar language stop him from interacting with the locals, and Yuri admired him for that.
Even though neither of them speak native English, Phichit compensated with his express body language and facial expression, something Yuri was too self conscious to copy. They also had something in common, their love for skating, and they connected quickly after sharing time together on the rink. Phichit was also a fan of Victor, but unlike Yuri he had many other idols and Victor was just one of many that he followed on social media.
From conversing with Phichit and Ciao Ciao (their coach Celestino whom Phichit nicknamed), Yuri's own command of English rapidly improved, and he was able to get his meanings across if he kept things straightforward, something that he wasn't able to do easily in Japanese. From one of his elective University courses he learned the difference between high and low context societies, and seeing that subtlety is the basis of Japanese culture, to be living in a low context environment like US was freeing yet scary, like riding a bike for the first time without training wheels.
He devoured American cable TVs with Phichit every evening after practice and school. They had to turn on the English subtitle since many times they did not understand the mumblings, even though their listening skills were now good enough for most everyday dialogues.
"Yuri, who's your favourite character from Games of Thrones?" Phichit asked after throwing a popcorn into his mouth.
"I don't know, " Yuri confessed, "maybe one of the Starks?"
"Me too! I like Arya ... she is so cool!"
Yuri smiled. Phichit was so forward with his affection. "I like her too. But I prefer one of the boys ... Jon Snow was interesting." Not to mention his doe eye look was a complete heart rob, he thought silently.
Phichit chuckled. "He is cute, isn't he?" He stole a look at the poster of Victor on their Kitchen wall, and winked. "But not as cute as someone else."
Yuri turned slightly pink from the tease. "I ... only appreciate Victor for his ... skating abilities, and nothing else." He took off his eyeglasses, cleaned them with his T-shirt, and set them aside onto the coffee table. If he could not see Phichit's amused look, he wouldn't have to be embarrassed.
Phichit's chuckle grew louder, and through Yuri's blurry vision, he saw Phichit's two hands held out like he was feeling the invisible rain. "Whatever you say, Yuri. Appreciation ... Japanese make such understatement, unlike us Thai."
Secretly, Yuri agreed, but he was not going to voice his opinion out loud.
Yuri was delighted that he had qualified for the Grand Prix Final after working with a new coach for a relative short time, but the reason why he chose Celestino was because he was one of the best. He respected Minako Sensei and his Japanese coaches back home, they have given him a solid foundation, but Celestino was able to help bringing out a more nuanced side of Yuri's skating. Yuri was able to demonstrate more with the flick of his hands, express with the turning of his head, and the spin felt more weightless after he had started living in USA. To uproot and go overseas so late in his career was a risky move, a huge gamble that might have paid off it seemed.
Yuri threw himself further into training, getting ready for his first GPX, but he was even more excited about the prospect of meeting Victor finally as an equal on the ice. He could not wait to beat Victor, a dream that he had told no one else, not even his coaches.