trending . sports (Japan)
Yomiuri Giants vs. Hanshin Tigers
58k
ピッチャーバトル
[Pitcher Battle]
29k
阪神タイガース
[Hanshin Tigers]
22k
読売ジャイアンツ
[Yomiuri Giants]
19k
奥川 ミナコ
[Okukawa Minako]
1k
Figureskating_Translations 5m
讀賣新聞 ✓ Yomiuri_Sports 32m
BREAKING NEWS
有名なバレリーナ奥川美奈子監督のジュニアナショナルズにカツキユウリ選手が出場
21 ? ﾸﾏ 71 ⟲ 92
(trans.)
BREAKING NEWS:
Katsuki Yuuri will compete at Junior Nationals, coached by famed ballerina Okukawa Minako.
2 ? ﾸﾏ 8 ⟲ 15
There is a thrum of jittering nerves that underlie all of Yuuri's movements today. Class had been excruciatingly painful, with Fujiwara-sensei's beedy eyes eternally trained on Yuuri's every action. By the time he was able to leave for the rink, Yuuri was pulsating with energy.
"You're more distracted than normal." Minako had frowned at him, curling around the rinkside's barrier. Yuuri had apologised, but there was nothing to stop his fidgeting. Minako had decidedly pulled him aside, declaring their training session over even though he'd only run through the short program routine once.
"You're going to injure yourself if we keep going. Besides, we're supposed to go to Yuu-chan's house today, might as well go early- wait!" Minako throws Yuuri a sly grin. "Is that why you're being all jittery and nervous, like a blushing bride? Because it's the Cup of China today?"
"I'm not nervous!"
Minako cackles loudly. "Come on then, we wouldn't want to miss Viktor's performance."
"The competition isn't until eight."
"Yeah, well if I keep you on the ice whilst you're this distracted, you're bound to hurt yourself. Even if we're early, I'm sure Yuuko will like any help distracting the triplets."
So that's how Yuuri finds himself on Yuuko and Takeshi's worn-out coach with multi-coloured crayola lines drawn over the seats in a cacophony of mess and chaos, as three little monsters crawl all over him. Katsumi has somehow knocked his glasses off onto the floor to Asami, who in turn had taken that as permission to drool all over them, all whilst Megumi tugs at Yuuri's jumper so tightly, his neckline was stretched irrevocably.
Yuuko takes in the sight and sighs heavily.
"I'm sorry, Yuuri." She cries, finally depositing his slightly chewed glasses back onto his face. "They're at that age where they're biting everything."
"I-It's all right." Yuuri lies, focusing entirely on Asami trying to heave herself up onto the coach. Megumi smacks his face angrily, trying to get his attention. "Well, it looks like Loop has her father's strength." He winces when she grabs a fistful of his hair.
"Megumi, we don't grab!" Yuuko admonishes, taking the child away from Yuuri. Katsumi takes it as an opportunity to drape herself all over Yuuri's lap, which causes Asami to start screaming for attention. Minako sits far, very far, away from the madness, feet curled underneath her as she sips a large glass of red wine. It's not Hiroko's beer, but it will do.
"What time does the competition start again?"
"In half an hour- Asami, please let go of your uncle- how long does it take to go to the convenience store? I swear when Takeshi walks in, I will pummel hi-"
"I've bought the ice-cream!" Nishigori comes inside the living room, holding up bags of convenience store goodies. "Why aren't the girls asleep yet?"
"Gee, I wonder why? It's almost like you woke them up before you left."
"I was only giving them a goodbye-kiss!"
"You were leaving for fifteen minutes!" Yuuko wails, walking towards her husband with Asami on one arm and Megumi on the other. She throws the two of them at their father, before turning to retrieve Katsumi from Yuuri.
"We'll be back in like five minutes. The girls should be worn out enough that they'll knock out as soon as it's quiet. Sensei, can you put on the right channel?"
"Already on it." Minako makes a shooing motion towards Nishigori and Yuuko, already flicking through the television channels. "We've got twenty minutes, Yuuko. Yuuri'll set up the food."
"Thank you!" She yells towards him, as both her and Nishigori go upstairs to settle the kids.
Nishigori had made them proud - there were savoury chips, chocolate balls, ramen cups, the best ice cream in existence, - all of Yuuri's favourites. He grins at the sight of the spicy noodles, already reaching out for them.
"Ow!' He shrieks. Minako's smack against his hand leaves a red print from how hard she had slapped him. Her fingers curl around the take-away noodles before Yuuri even realises, snatching it from beneath his nose.
"No cup ramen."
"That's complete dietary restriction, how would people react if they knew this is how you treat your only student?"
"You're the one who came up with your own dietary menu." Minako glares, before throwing the ramen towards him, a pushover to Yuuri's pouting. "Just this once. You'll be strict for the rest of the month."
Yuuri whoops ecstatically, running towards the kitchen to fill up Yuuko's kettle. "Do you want any tea or coffee, sensei?"
"I'm fine with my wine!" He hears her shout through the wall. "Ugh, I can't wait for you to start drinking- if you're a sleepy drunk like your mother and Mari, it'll be a waste of your father's genes."
"Tou-san gets drunk on a single sip of alcohol."
" Exactly . Inhibitions and self-control completely out of sight - he's the life of the party!"
Yuuri winces at the thought, mind immediately going to the famed Banquet Incident™. That in itself brings about Chris' promise of a night-out, and suddenly, Yuuri shudders at the thought of Minako and Christophe ever meeting.
Never before has Yuuri seen his life flash before his eyes.
In order to dissipate the cursed image of Christophe and Minako running Yuuri's liver - and self-preservation - into an early grave, he returns his attention to make three cups of hot drinks, two green teas for himself and Nishigori and Yuuko's favourite hot chocolate mix. He sets them down on the table, refilling Minako's wine without being prompted, and earning a satisfied cheek-pinching as thanks from his teacher, before pouring boiling water into the different arrays of ramen cups in front of him.
Yuuko and Takeshi finally make their way downstairs, closing the door behind them quietly and settling down next to Yuuri around the snack table.
"Oi. Pass the choco-balls." Nishigori throws a handful of the sweet snacks into his mouth, stirring his ramen cup absentmindedly. With his eyes trained on the TV, he nudges Yuuri's side. "What's Nikiforov's competition?"
"Can you even call it a competition?" Yuuko snorts. "Viktor's got it in the bag."
"Well, Christophe's been sending me videos of the toe-loop he's been trying. It's pretty consistent in practice."
"Right." Takeshi's voice sours. "I forgot you've been getting weirdly close to that Swiss skater."
"What do you mean by weirdly close?" snickers Minako. "You sound like an old man."
"Well, he's always texting Yuuri!" Takeshi growls. "What if he starts corrupting him?"
" Corrupting him? "
"You've seen what his programs are like this year! Yuuri's a teenager, he's easily susceptible-"
"Oh, stop being such a dad, Nishigori! Just because you're twenty, you act like Yuuri's a child."
"Well, I am a dad-"
"And you never let us forget it." Yuuko rolls her eyes, exasperated. "What, do you think he's going to sweep Yuuri off his feet and have legions of figures skating babies? The world would be blessed. And, let's be real. The only person who could possibly sweep Yuuri off his feet would be Viktor, and I for one would support him in the escapade. At least with Christophe their offspring's butts would be otherworldly. God, imagine a person alive who has a combination of Yuuri and Giacometti's as-"
"Why are you even looking at Yuuri and Giacommeti's asses?!"
Yuuri slams his hands over both Nishigori and Yuuko's lips. "Enough talking about my backside. The competition is starting."
Yuuri's heart leaps at the sight of Viktor, as it always does. He had feared that seeing him perform again would send him spiralling, as it had done so before, but now that the initial shock had worn off, Yuuri sits back and watches Viktor in his element.
He had completed his signature flip with little to no problem, proving once again that technicality was always his greatest weapon. The twists of his spins were subdued, more subdued than the Viktor in the future ever was- but Yuuri had an inkling that was due to his own influence rather than a lack of ability on Viktor's past self. These spins were fine for the program Viktor was doing, one which needed every breath available for the jumps he was doing.
Viktor's performances were always a thing of beauty - Yuuri could wax poetry about the stylistic arm extensions that mirrored the tonal changes of notes in the music, the power behind ever sweep of his body across the ice, the melding of technicality and artistry, all wrapped up into a gorgeous package - but nothing would explain it better than actually watching him skate with your own eyes.
Viktor's performance was an assured win. Even Christophe perfectly executing the quadruple toe would do little to stop him, especially since their program's base values were so far apart. Viktor waits with bated breath in the Kiss and Cry, Yakov's grim face televised worldwide beside him.
God, Viktor must've actually caused Yakov's hair to fall out, aided most definitely by Yura. Yuuri had never thought that the word 'young' could ever be applied to Coach Feltsman, yet here is, gaping in horror at the disturbing picture of the Russian coach with a full head of hair sitting primly atop his scalp.
" And now we await the results - with a performance like that, it's going to be huge, Honda-san."
"If he doesn't get nine's across the board, I will riot- AND HE'S DONE IT! Viktor Nikiforov has broken the glass ceiling! One hundred points! For the first time in history, a skater has scored one hundred points in the short program! Russia's Viktor Nikiforov is making history tonight in Shanghai!"
Someone is screaming, hands are gripping Yuuri's shoulders, shaking him, rattling him to the core. It all peeters out, like the world is suddenly thrown into a vacuum where no sound could travel through. Yuuri cannot hear a single thing, eyes drilled intensely on the television. The camera focuses on Viktor's face, at the flush of his neck, his eyes widened in beautiful shock.
And then, his lips split into the most breathtaking of smiles.
In the future, Yuuri would look back on this moment, and recognise it was the moment he was tied down to this timeline forever. The sudden emotion of pure, unadulterated elation that exploded out of Viktor was the purest emotion to flood through the boy - confidence, pride, happiness . All of it, Viktor deserved. Yuuri would make sure he always felt like that. Everything seemed chaotic around him, rushing in as Nishigori and Yuuko screamed at the moment, but Yuuri's head was clear. Everything was brought into perspective.
Lost at sea, braving rocky waves on a rattling, wooden boat with floorboards that creaked under his weight and sails punctured with holes, Viktor was the imaginary line running through the entire Earth, drowning out the overbearing noise that surrounded Yuuri's life and re-centered him, focusing him. Viktor was Yuuri's true north, a compass or a northern star that showed him the way forward.
It was like falling in love all over again.
Chris ?
Did you get to see my toe-loop?
Sent
Yuuri ?
[A poor-quality, pixelated video of Christophe landing his first quad in competition]
Got it on video! The landing was beautiful, Chris!
Sent
Chris ?
! You're so sweet to me ?
Sent
Yuuri ?
It was a beautifully landed quad! All praise is deserved.
Good luck for the free tomorrow!
Sent
Chris ?
Thank yoooou! Oh, and I… may have something… /urgent/ to tell you.
Sent
Yuuri ?
…
Sent
Chris ?
Now, don't freak out on me when I say this.
Sent
Yuuri ?
You're using punctuation correctly.
Sent
Chris ?
Hey, I said no freaking out!
Sent
Yuuri ?
That is the /opposite/ thing to say to someone with anxiety
Sent
Chris ?
It's a good thing! I promise!
Sent
Yuuri ?
We have different ideas of what is good, Chris
Sent
Chris ?
Well… I may, or may not have, gotten a certain figure skater's number.
? ? ﾟﾑﾈ
Sent
Yuuri ? is typing…
Yuuri ?
Wait… is it who I think it is?
Sent
Yuuri ?
ASKFJSP!
Sent
Yuuri ?
CHRISTOPHE!
Sent
Chris ? is offline.
Yuuri ?
CHRISTOPHE, YOU LITTLE BITCH.
Sent
Yuuri ?
I KNOW YOU'RE AWAKE. ANSWER MY CALL!
Sent
In light of everything that's happened today, Yuuri is surprisingly composed when they almost miss the train heading towards their flight in Fukuoka.
Mari is heaving, holding herself up by clinging to Minako who in turn is also breathing heavily, with her grip on a single train handle the only thing keeping both her and Mari from collapsing onto the train floor. Yuuri sighs, nudging his teacher to sit opposite him across a table, whilst Mari collapses next to him.
They had reserved some nice seats, the ones where there is a table between four and enough leg room for Yuuri to comfortably rest, so he'll get over having to stare at Minako's face for the rest of the train journey. The three of them are still breathing heavily by the time the train begins to move.
He doesn't want to think of this as a bad sign, but Yuuri's nerves tell a different story.
Minako leans forward and pokes Yuuri's creased forehead. Her smile is surprisingly gentle. "We made it in one piece! Looks like luck is on our side."
"Or we're being cursed- ow!" Minako glares at Mari, smacking her hand. She changes the subject.
"How long until we reach Fukuoka?"
"An hour and a half. There'll be a shuttle bus that'll take us directly to the airport." Yuuri pulls out his flight sheets, along with the tickets so that everyone could see the itinerary.
"Wow. I didn't know you were this organised, Yuuri." Mari gapes, flicking through the folder. "Why can't you keep your room this organised?"
"Shut up! Usually coaches deal with this…" He sheepishly looks towards Minako, who in turn, blushes bright red in embarrassment. "But because I'm the one liasoning with the JSF, it made sense for me to figure everything else out. Since this will be Minako's first taste behind the scenes."
Minako's face pales. "Don't worry, sensei, I'll be with you the whole time."
"That's supposed to be my line, Yuuri! What kind of coach has to be calmed down by their own student?"
"First time for everything." Mari winks. "Speaking of first times, I can't believe my first time on a plane is a domestic flight and not abroad, like it should be."
"Hey, you're the one who said they couldn't go to the Finals with me!"
"Let me sulk in peace, Yuuri."
Mari hums, tuning out the two's bickering as she watches the various trees that pass by through the train window. "Do you think the weather will be nice in Sapporo?"
"It's around two degrees."
"Wow. You really researched the whole thing, didn't you?" Mari teases, ruffling Yuuri's hair. He glares up at his sister, before turning back towards Minako.
"It shouldn't rain though, so we should be fine."
"Good, good." Minako sighs. "Do we have everything? Skates and costumes?"
"We're already on the train, what are we going to do if he doesn't?" Mari rolls her eyes. "Besides, he's literally gripping his cart with his life."
"Mari, I will smack you again." She holds up her hands in surrender.
"It's fine, sensei. I triple checked before we left home. Everything's in that carry-on." He points to the luggage that has its own seat beside Minako, a powdered-blue that had seen better days. Minako rests her hand on top of it, exhaling all her nerves to the suitcase.
"Good." She says finally. She flattens the top of her hair, and this is the first time Yuuri has seen his teacher look so frazzled. It almost shocks him out of his anxiety a little.
"Are you okay, sensei?"
"I'm great, Yuuri-kun!" Her voice cracks a little, causing Mari to snicker. "I swear to god Mari-"
Mari ducks to miss Mianko's swipe at her, guffawing behind her hands. It eases the tension between the three, and Minako closes her eyes for a moment. When she does open them, Yuuri and Mari are watching her wearily.
"I- I guess I'm just a little nervous. You've trained so much for this, and I've never been a coach before. I've only been to competitions to cheer you on, but this time, you'll be relying on me. I have no idea what the behind-the-scenes is like."
She's right, competitions are completely different to practicing at Ice Castle, Yuuri thinks. But Minako has little to worry about. Whilst she might not know what ice skating competitions are like, Yuuri does .
Yuuri has had thirteen years to come to terms with competitions - it was like breathing to him. He hates the nerves that build up as soon as he enters hotel rooms, like someone had stuffed cotton buds into his ears so that everything would sound muffled. The noise of the crowd was almost worse - it made his body clam up like a ramrod, so tensed up that it would be suicide to try and skate.
But he loves the atmosphere before a competition, the all you could eat breakfast buffets, the bustling mornings in hotel cafes with cheap, watered-down coffees, the sizing up of different athletes.
Because as much as Yuuri tries to deny it, he thrives in competition.
"Don't worry, sensei." He smiles reassuredly, a vision of calmness that strikes fear into Minako's bones. "We've got this."
Despite making it to the airport with time to spare, travelling domestically via plane means that there is no time to think, let alone rest. One minute they're in Fukuoka, the next they've travelled 1,134 miles to Hokkaido in just over two hours.
If only Hasetesu had transport connections like the rest of Japan - but no, Yuuri had to live on the outskirts of the outskirts of Japan, (yes, because Hasetsu was right at the sea's border, which meant it was even further away from Saga City, which in itself was far away from any other major city.) It meant that whilst most Japanese citizens could simply catch a shinkansen train to reach cities all across the country, Yuuri would have to catch a fucking plane just to even get on the shinkansen.
At least domestic flights were cheap. If they weren't, well, Yuuri and his family would've been fucked. He doesn't have Viktor's heapes of disposable income at his fingertips anymore. Yuuri feels the twinges of pain everytime he looks at his bank account.
Whilst Minako attempts to hail a taxi amongst the array of other passengers also attempting to hail taxis, Mari settles down next to her brother, sitting a-top her carry-on.
"How far away is Sapporo?"
"An hour and a half, I think? The shinkansen we're taking cuts out about half of the time though, if Minako ends up getting a taxi so we don't miss it."
"What hotel are we staying at?"
"I'm not sure," Yuuri shrugs. "The federation said they'll have someone waiting for us once we arrive at Sapporo Station. They've sorted out accommodation for us there."
"Cool- cool."
Yuuri narrows his eyes at his sister's voice, tinged with both fatigue and something else, something Yuuri can't quite place.
"... Mari-ni?"
"Hmm?" Her head snaps up at Yuuri's voice, face flushing. "It's nothing, kid." She ruffles his hair, standing up. "Don't worry about it."
"OI! KATSUKIS!" Minako screams, waving her hands frantically from her place across the road.
"Guess that's our cue." Yuuri laughs at the sight, gripping his suitcase tightly. "Come on, I'm already tired of travelling."
"Tell me about it." Mari groans. "Airplane rides aren't as fun as movies make them out to be."
The station is packed by the time they reach the entrance. Elbows are digging into Yuuri, and it takes Minako's grip on his suitcase and Mari's hand on his jacket's hood for the three of them to not be dragged apart along the current waves of people flooding inside to catch the trains.
"It's two pm. Why are there so many people?" Mari flinches at the sharp pain of someone stepping on her feet. "God, I miss Hasetsu."
"The big city isn't for everyone, Mari." Minako flitters around gracefully, fully accustomed to the hustle and bustle of crowds. "You should see the bus stations in Saint Petersburg- packed like sardines."
Yuuri recoils, freezing in place. The only thing moving him forward is Mari sharply digging her finger into his back, pushing him to follow Minako. "I forgot you were a principal dancer at Mariinsky."
"Hmm…" Minako sighs wistfully. "It's a beautiful city. Someday I hope to go back, oh- maybe you'll be assigned the Rostelecom Cup next season, and then I'll be able to visit again! Of course, it'll depend on where they host the event, they seem to be favouring Moscow, recently."
"Saint Petersburg." Yuuri murmurs, so low, Minako could barely hear him over the crowd. "That's where Viktor is."
Mari snorts from behind him. "Do you think of anything other than Nikiforov?"
"No." Yuuri sounds reasonably childlike, but there is a bitter taste inside his mouth. Viktor would always be on his mind.
"Well, at least you're self-aware. Minako-san, we've got fifteen minutes before our train, let's sit down for a bit."
They settle in a small cafe shop, finding seats within a cramped booth. Mari leaves to grab everyone's to-go order, in dire need of a coffee, whilst Yuuri flops unceremoniously onto the table in front of him.
"That's not hygienic, Yuuri."
"Mmpahg."
"Whilst I'm in agreement, please sit up so I can hear you better."
"I said…" Yuuri's voice is still muffled by his jacket that he's placed underneath his head, eyes closed. "I'm hungry."
"Ask and you shall receive." Mari returns by flicking his ear, setting down some club sandwiches and steaming cups of coffee.
"Since we have time…" Minako's voice has a teasing tilt to it. "Tell me about school."
"Whakgn abouat ia-t"
"Oh, god Yuuri. Close your fucking mouth whilst you eat!" cringes Mari, throwing a napkin in her brother's direction. "At least speak Japanese so I can understand you."
Yuuri makes an effort to swallow his sandwich, glaring at his sister for her crude language. "I said, what do you want to know about school?"
"Well, as your coach ," Minako grins at the glare Yuuri sends her. "I have an invested interest in all aspects of your life that could affect you competing."
Mari seems to pick up on whatever Yuuri somehow misses. "Yes, Yuuri. Tell us about school."
A cold shiver runs up Yuuri's back as the two pass a look between them.
"Like… is there any girls-" -
"Or boys!" Mari interrupts with a wink.
"-Or boys, that we should know about, Yuuri dear?"
Oh. That's it.
A love-life, or in Yuuri's case a non-existent love life, was the sort of thing that preoccupied people of Yuuri's age group. Minako and Mari started to throw out names, attempting to see if Yuuri would give any reaction to them.
"There's Asahi, you know the baseball team's captain-"
"Oh, he's so handsome. Yuuri, why don't you ever go to the team's matches?" Mari pouts.
"You just want to use me as an excuse to go. He's my age. Stop ogling children or I'll call the police."
"He's eighteen . I can ogle all I want."
"Okay, so not Asahi-kun then, a travesty, but I guess you're not into the rugged type anyway. Hmmm, what about Mari-chan!"
"Ooooh! Kobayashi's daughter? She's so pretty, definitely more your style. Very cute cheeks, like a squirrel."
The two chatted along, gleefully enjoying the embarrassed flush across Yuuri's face. Their sly motions let Yuuri know that they would have no intention of stopping their tirade of names.
Yuuri sighs. Well, there is another option he could do. The truth begs to be heard, as always.
"I will only marry Viktor." He says resoundly.
Mari sputters her coffee, hacking up the creamy mixture onto the table. Yuuri grimaces, passing her some napkins to clean it up.
"Marry? Who said anything about marriage?! We're talking about dating , Yuuri."
"Well, Viktor's the only one for me." Yuuri crosses his arms flippantly. "Everyone pales in comparison."
"Oh, Yuuri come on- I'm going to shrivel up and die before you even go on a date. There's got to be someone-"
"Nope, the only person in my heart is a Russian figure skater with star-lit hair of silver and eyes the colour of the sky on a sunny day-"
"Okay, okay!" Mari shoves her sandwich into Yuuri's mouth. "We get it, we get it! Viktor is the only one for you, jeez. Enough with your love sonnets for the man."
Makomanai Ice Arena,
Sapporo, Japan
"Do you need me in the room during the draw?" The two of them are standing still, opposite from the entrance of the conference. Yuuri clasps her hand, watching as a stream of reporters, skaters and other, professional looking people begin to go through the door. Minako takes one look at their suits, and back down towards her tight, turtleneck jumper and feels, for the first time in her life, completely under- dressed.
"They're all wearing suits, Yuuri. They're wearing National Japanese Federation suits." Her eyes are trailing on the small inscription of their nation's red flag sewn into the breast pockets of some trainer's blazers. Yuuri winces when he realises that most are from the big three.
He taps her shoulder in what he hopes comes across as reassurance. "Sensei, you look fine. All you have to do is stand by the door and look imposing."
"Imposing, I'm good at imposing."
Yuuri snorts, half of his nerves ebbing away. He takes a deep breath, and readjusts the mask on his face. "Let's face the monster, Sensei."
Minako taps his shoulder, edging him forward. With their backs pin-straight, the two walk determinedly through the door.
"Do we have the spare batteries, senpai?"
"We have some extras in the camera-bag, why?"
Fumiya hums, centering her tripod so that it angles towards the entrance. "Just want to make sure we have enough battery-life for when the main character makes his entrance."
Morooka sighs heavily. "Did you read what Yomiuri released earlier this week?"
Fumiya turns to look at him with a wicked smile. "I know that your superiors were on your ass for days about them releasing it first. Okukawa Minako and figure skating, never thought I'd see the day."
"Do you really think she's here for Katsuki-senshu?"
"Morooka-senpai." Fumiya twists to look at her supervisor. "I know you've got a soft spot for the kid, but you could sound a little more excited! This should be good news! The most famed ballerina in the history of Japan is coming here as his coach! Where do you think they met?"
"They live in the same city." Morooka answers without prompt. "She's been his ballet teacher since he was four."
Fumiya blinks, hands freezing from her tweaking of the cameras. "Wow. You really are a Katsuki otaku."
Morooka groans, covering his face. "He just has so much potential! I remember when I first saw him-"
"At the novice competition- yes, I know. He did Swan Lake, like every other seven year old."
"But he did it so well! He was doing spins at level four as a child!"
"Well, he's got a good coach now! Okukawa-sensei is renowned as a hard teacher, and she must truly believe in Katsuki-senshu if she's doing something she's never done before."
"That's what I'm worried about!" Morooka cries. "She's not a figure skating coach- does she even know how the scores are judged? Katsuki-senshu has always struggled with the technical aspect of figure skating, what can a ballerina teach him about that?!"
Fumiya grins at him, turning her camera towards the entrance. "Why don't you ask her yourself?"
Morooka feels like he's being left to fend for himself, on the edge of a cliff with wolves circling his every move, just waiting to pounce. Okukawa Minako - the most famous dancer in all of Japan. She walks beside Katsuki-senshu, back pin-straight, all harsh-lines and glaring eyes.
Morooka gulps from his place with the other press-junkies, with only shame preventing him from hiding behind his intern. "She's a lot more severe than the pictures."
"But look at that skin - how the hell is she over forty?! There's not a single wrinkle on her face."
"Must be the blood of innocent children." Morooko murmurs underneath his breath.
Fumiya snickers, before her eyes widen. "Katsuki-san looks good- oh, wow, he looks really good." She gapes, zooming in on her camera to get a close-up. "What kind of spartan training has she put him under?! Look at his musc-"
"Refrain from talking about Japan's Junior Ace in such a manner, Fumiya-kun."
She snorts, winking up at him. "Whatever you say, sir. But come on, is it even possible to bulk up that much in what, three months?"
"You don't think it'll affect his jumps, right? Any added muscle mass would affect the axis of a jump because the body will be too heavy to jump-"
"Oh stop worrying, you fanboy!" She slaps him softly on the arm. "He looks good , way better than when he was with what's-his-face."
Morooka sneers, "Do not mention He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
"Comparing Nobu to a mass-murdering, bigot. Very apt." Fumiya rolls her eyes. "Oh, they're starting the draw."
"I hope he doesn't get first."
"You know, saying that is like an invitation, or- what's the word- manifestation ."
"Don't say something so scary."
Katsuki-san rises up, a finger hooking around the strings around his left ear, and there is audible silence as he pulls the mask free, revealing his face. He readjusts his glasses, glances up towards one of the officials, and smiles .
The official, more or less, faints on the spot, a hand coming up to rest on her chest just above her beating heart. Katsuki's eyes widen, and he holds an arm out to help her find footing.
Fumiya seethes by his side, pouting. "She did that on purpose. Well, I can't blame her - if Katsuki-senshu smiled at me, I too would fall into his arms. He's just so pretty ."
Morooka slams a hand over her mouth, muffling her words. "Be quiet! You're supposed to be a professional, not some fangirl."
"Says you!"
After the little commotion, Katsuki-san rummages through the bag of numbered blocks, choosing one and handing it to the official.
"Number 27." She speaks into the microphone, and there is a flurry of typing by the journalists around Morooka, sending off information back towards headquarters. There are far too many reporters at the competition, more than Morooka had ever seen before, especially for a junior competition.
Well, when the Junior Ace of Japan reveals his coach is the famed Okukawa Minako, people are drooling at the chance to write an opinion piece. Will it be a strike of genius, or is it a harbinger of the apocalypse? Only time would tell.
At least it's not first , is all Morooka can think. Appreciate the small blessings, he always says.
Morooka can feel Fumiya tense next to him as the draw continues, her hands tightening around the base of the tripod. He couldn't find it in himself to ease her worries when his own were so overwhelming.
The two of them could only hope and pray that Katsuki wouldn't burst into flames on the ice.