Location: Capital Gymnasium Arena, Beijing, China
[PHOTO: A photograph, obviously taken from behind the boards, of Yuuri Katsuki on the ice during the medal ceremony. He stands alone, facing towards the ice. The photo only shows the back of Yuuri's body, Yuuri's back, highlighting the way the pink costume contrasts brightly against the pale, white ice, focusing on the beautiful pearl detailing of his costume.]
minako-okukawa
あなたが最も困難な状況を克服するのを見ると、私は自分自身をあなたの先生と呼ぶことを誇りに思います。偉大さだけが続きます。おめでとう、私の最も愛する学生。
＃チャンピオン #カツキユウリ #GPFBeijing #JuniorChampion
[Watching you overcome the hardest situations makes me proud to call myself your teacher. Only greatness will follow. Congratulations, my most beloved student. #Champion #KatsukiYuuri #GPFBeijing #JuniorChampion]
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Day 2 of the Grand Prix Final,
Capital Gymnasium Arena,
Beijing, China
"There's no escaping it this time, kid." Minako frets with Yuuri's hair, making sure it's properly swept past his forehead so that his forehead is exposed.
He looks strange with his glasses on, not bad but just different- like her two Yuuri's have somehow combined. It's a good look, Minako decides, but she still steals his glasses away, pocketing them so they're safe in her jacket. "All you have to do is look at the cameras and smile. Pretend you don't know any English and just mumble out the same repeated words."
"But I do know English."
"But they won't know that."
Yuuri steels his nerves, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "It's not like there's going to be that many reporters, right?"
"Exactly. It's Juniors."
"Right." Minako gives him the thumbs up, before they both leave the make-shift, waiting room/ dressing room set up for the medalists - because that's what Yuuri is, a victor , the overall Junior Grand Prix Champion.
Minako and Yuuri are not alone in the room either - Miyamoto is talking furiously into her phone, evidently just as shocked as the world that Yuuri broke Viktor's short program record, let alone that he won the title. The Japanese media must be blowing up the JSF's phone for missing out, and Miyamoto has to deal with the brunt of it.
Like everyone else thought, Juniors were supposed to be easy . They had not put a seasoned official on the team to sort out the press relations and now Miyamoto had to suffer the consequences.
She realises that Yuuri and Minako must be watching her, as her face looks up suddenly. Yuuri winces when her face twists, as if she's about to break out into tears, and Minako takes pity, walking towards the young JSF official and grabbing the phone out of her hand.
Yuuri leaves the room for the hallway as quickly as possible.
Whilst it's mostly amusing to watch Minako rip into men who think that shouting means they can have their way, Yuuri's earbuds could use the rest.
Suddenly, someone grabs Yuuri from behind, lifting his arm up so they can wiggle underneath it, gluing themselves into his side. Yuuri gapes, blurry eyes trying to figure out who the small figure is cozying up to his side.
He gasps in realisation. "Sara!"
Her hair is loose around her shoulders and she looks infinitely more younger than Yuuri could believe, face rounded like little chipmunk cheeks filled with acorns. "I see you haven't forgotten who I am."
"I-what… erm hi?"
"Hi? That's all you can say after breaking my heart?"
There is a sharp cry and Yuuri can feel beady little eyes burning into the back of his head.
He doesn't have to turn around to know that Michele Crispino would storm towards them if he was allowed. Thankfully, his team have yet to see Yuuri and Sara together, instead focusing on pushing Michele further down the hallway for his own interviews despite him screeching bloody murder.
Yuuri looks frantically towards Sara, lips pursed. "Your brother is going to kill me when he gets back. How did you get backstage?"
"I am competing later, Yuuri. Besides, I came to see my precious brother." She rolls her eyes, before quickly lifting a hand up to yank Yuuri's ear, hard . "I can't believe you kept in contact with Giacometti and not me ."
"Ow, ow, ow- Sara!"
"You deserve it! Do you know how much I've had to suffer because Giacometti was bragging all season about how the two of you text and Skype all the time- I hate you!"
"That's a lie. You tolerate me better than others."
Sara scowls, although her lips are twitching slightly. "That's because other male skaters are pretentious at best, and downright vulgar at worst. Plus, it helps that you're the only one who doesn't flirt with me."
"Because you're a lesbian?" Yuuri tilts his head to the side, looking adorably like a confused little puppy, enough for Sara to want to reach up and pinch his cheeks. Of course Yuuri would be so sweet as to actually take Sara's preference into consideration.
"That's never stopped anyone before." So sweet - Sara had forgotten how polite Yuuri actually was. Most didn't care when Sara told them that she wasn't interested, continuing to aggravate her by their incessant flirting - it's why she never stopped Michele's ridiculous over-protection.
That being said, it was incredibly strange when the one skater who never talked to anyone, who was known as the coldest, anti-social athlete that stayed on the fringes of the social behavioural zoo that is the figure skating community, armed with narrowed eyes that could freeze a man in his tracks, took Sara's words for what they were and never attempted to make her feel uncomfortable. Katsuki had believed Sara from the moment she opened her mouth.
At first, she was glad.
There was at least someone sensible enough to keep their distance.
But soon, as more and more people started to overwhelm her with the attention, she kind of craved Yuuri's silent presence, never pushing for anything more than being acquaintances, sending each other nods of acknowledgements or waves from afar.
Which is why she's sort of not lying - she may be acting dramatic, but she is jealous that Christophe was able to melt the icy exterior of Yuuri Katsuki when she couldn't.
Christophe, as prone to exaggeration as he is, could not make up every tale of Yuuri staying up past midnight in his timezone just to help him figure out a transitional element or that the two had made a rapport of sending each other pictures and videos of their cute pets. (Sara wanted to be part of the pet group chat! Nemo, with his little flappers and broken fin, would be a wonderful addition!)
When Sara had asked how Christophe , of all people, become friends with Katsuki, he had only one thing to say:
" Yuuri's really, really shy, but he's also polite as hell - you've just got to be fucking shameless. Go up to him and act like you're already best friends. If you pretend to be familiar with him, he'll be too sweet to ignore you, and by the time he grows a backbone to tell you to fuck off, you're already the best of friends."
So Sara had armed herself with Christophe's knowledge and haggled Yuuri's attention as soon as she had seen him backstage. If it all imploded in her face, she can at least say she tried. She'd make Katsuki her friend even if it killed her.
Sara must've been quiet for too long, because Katsuki starts to ramble, stammering in an adorable bubble of embarrassment. "Erm, since we're on the topic of sexual orientation- why the does Michele not know you're a lesbian - it would stop him from, you know, not wanting to kill me everytime I'm around you."
She laughs loudly. "Mickey thinks everyone falls in love with me, which he's not wrong about but-" She digs her elbow into Yuuri's side when he snorts. Huh, so Christophe was right - he does have a sense of humour. "If Mickey knew I liked girls I'd never be able to compete in singles. He barely leaves me alone now, if he finds out I'm almost exclusively attracted to women? I'll never be left alone. How am I going to get a cute girlfriend then? You sir, are the perfect target for Mickey to focus on."
Yuuri rolls his eyes. "Yeah, for target practice ."
"Oh hush, besides, he doesn't know that you're into guys. Otherwise we would be having a very different conversation."
"I'm into one specific guy." he says, defending himself. Yuuri does not want to think about Sara's scheming face, so he lets the thoughts enter his brain like water, slipping out within the second like little rivulets in a lake.
"I know, I know!" Sara shakes her hands in front of her, rolling her eyes. "You're Viktor- sexual - no idea why, but each to their own. It was established like two years ago when Chris accidentally got you drunk and you talked about his hair for two hours straight." Her face scrunches up, as if it physically pains her to be reminded of the memory.
Yuuri, because he was drunk , does not remember this happening but he knows his drunk-self enough to trust her version of events. "Well, he does have-"
"We are not getting side-tracked by Viktor's hair again . We're going to have a conversation about how throughout Juniors you were 'Mr-Unapproachable' and then I have to hear from Giacometti - of all people Yuuri, Giacometti? - that you're suddenly the greatest person to be friends with."
"Aww, Chris actually said that?" Yuuri flinches at the glare Sara sends him. "Erm, sorry?"
"Sorry? I'm so jealous!" Sara cries. "You never talked to me like that! What's so good about Giacometti? Is it because he's got a dick - that's gender discrimination-" Her fingers claw into Yuuri's bicep, but there is no heat in the movement.
There is, however, a sharp intake of breath behind them, and then Sara is wretched out of Yuuri's space.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing with my sister, Katsuki?!"
"Oh, fuck off, Mickey! I can be friends with whoever I want-"
"Not with him !" He screeches, face turning red as he stabs a pointed finger at Yuuri. "He's a depraved demon , Sara! You must stay away from him!"
"You're being ridiculous. Yuuri is the absolute sweetest! He's even made friends with Giacometti-"
If anything, dropping Christophe's name makes Yuuri look worse in Michele's eyes. He sputters and says that's proof that Yuuri is a "horrible, debauched rake" - his words, not Yuuri's - and the two devolve into a shouting match. Yuuri feels very uncomfortable with the energy in this hallway.
There are two options he can take.
Option 1: Stay here where Mickey might murder hiim.
Option 2: Walk back into the shitstorm of the waiting room where Minako is murdering someone else via telecommunications.
Since he's not going to be murdered in the Minako situation - his eardrums may burst, but it's a small sacrifice for survival - he silently turns on the balls of his feet and runs for the hills.
Evidently, there was a third option.
A woman with a headset is briskly walking through the hallway, popping into different rooms. Every time she walks into the room and returns back to the hallway, her shoulders sag in defeat. Her radio screeches to life, and she jumps, grappling it with her hand and speaking into it with a tone of fear.
From here, Yuuri can see her wearing the staff jacket, a fleece decorated in bright yellow with streaks of red running through it. There is an embroidered 'STAFF' on each side of her sleeve in dark black, a contrast to the brightness of her jacket.
Whilst Yuuri cannot understand the Mandarin being screeched, he does recognise the word 'Katsuki'.
"Is everything alright?" He calls out to her. The woman jolts. Her eyes widen at the sight of him, and she starts rapidly talking into the radio, although some of the stress from her shoulder seems to have lifted.
"Katsuki! Oh, I've been searching for you- your coach said you left for a walk?"
"I needed a little air."
She pockets her radio, and the stress from her shoulder evaporates. "I'm sorry for the rudeness, but would it be okay if we walk back to your waiting room? There are some things we need to talk with your coach about."
"Is something wrong?"
"No, no." She shaves her head frantically. "Erm, there seems to have been some miscommunication between the ISU and the organisers of the event. Were you told that Junior champions have a performance slot at the gala?"
"What?" The woman winces.
"I thought only seniors were supposed to compete, all the competitors from the competition have a slot."
"You are right - the original plan was that all senior competitors would perform at the gala, but then the ISU requested that Junior champions of each discipline would also get a small slot during the event, as a reward for winning. It seems that the request had gotten lost amongst the bustle of trying to combine the senior and junior schedule. Will you be able to perform?"
"I- yes, I'd be happy to, but what should I perform?"
"Most will do their short program, but if there's a chance you have a different piece, it would be best to show something fresh."
"I have the gala piece I was planning for Worlds, but I haven't perfo-"
"Perfect!" The official cuts Yuuri off, sighing in relief. "Because it was so last minute, everyone chose to do their short program or a performance from last season- which is completely fine!" She scratches the side of her face, biting her lower lip. "But between me and you, if everyone does the same, then the ISU will know how much we've fucked up. Is there any way you and your coach can keep it on the down-lo? There'll be a gala practice on the 16th that you'll be obliged to attend."
"That's fine. We have tickets for the gala, so we'd have stuck around till then anyway. I have the sound file with me, can I send it by email?"
"Please! If you follow me, we can go to the sound technicians right now and then I can escort you to the press room after."
Yuuri grimaces at the thought of interviews but he nods anyway, following the woman further through the layers of Capital Gymnasium Arena.
Viktor pulls his cap further down his head so that it sinks and covers his forehead. Dressed in all-black, the complete opposite of his aesthetic, he slinkers through the backstage area of Capital Arena.
So maybe he looks a little shady, but he does what he has to do. If someone questioned what he was doing, he had his ID in his back pocket. Even then, all he'd have to do was show his face and he'd be free to roam around anywhere.
After somehow slipping away from Yakov's all-knowing presence, Viktor had discarded his national jacket - the red, whilst so his colour, was a little eye-catching, especially on a 180cm Russian with long, silver hair - in his gym bag, leaving him decked out in only his athletic wear.
The black was a bit of a change, since he almost always was found in grey sweatpants, but Viktor knew he had to look as un -Viktor-like as possible. If he wanted to succeed, he had to be incognito. It would all fall to pieces if Yakov even sniffed that something was amiss - fingers crossed Natalia was able to keep him and Leonid under control.
("No." Yakov didn't even contemplate it for a second.
"What- but I have to!"
"No you don't." His coach had stood up from his seat, making his way towards Viktor's hotel door. "There will be uploads on YouTube later that you can watch."
"But watching through a screen is completely different from watching it live!" Yakov didn't even bat an eyelash when Viktor threw himself back, sprawled out like a starfish, and started to throw a tantrum.
"You are not going to watch the Japanese skater's free program when exactly three hours later you'll be competing. That is final.")
So of course, Viktor had to sneak out. His short program was in a few hours. He really should be warming up, but in his defence, if he had to force himself to focus without having watched the Japanese skater, he'd be the definition of distracted. Sneaking out to go watch Katsuki skate was imperative to Viktor winning the Grand Prix Final. It was a scientific fact.
And in the end, Yuuri Katsuki had been worth it.
There was no way for Viktor to get good seats; it seemed like everyone and their baba were up in the stands watching. It had been almost impossible to go near the boards without someone realising he was there, so he stayed around loitering near the exit. He had never seen a Junior event so packed to the brim, but well, he'd never seen a skater like Katsuki in Juniors before either.
When he was sixteen, and Maxim and Artyom had been the big Russian greats, walls of gigantic proportions, Viktor had felt the thrill, had been the best of the best, because he had to compete with those people who were better than him. And then he had beaten them. Over and over again. The heat of competition had been missing from Viktor for so long, cooling into a blase ice court with Viktor as its ruler. Yes, he still had so many things he wanted to achieve, the Olympics were only around the corner, but to win without a shadow of a doubt? That was boring .
Viktor wants to be the undisputed king - to do that, he needs challengers.
After so many better and older skaters had retired from skating since Quebec, Viktor had felt like he was the only person left in the race, hurtling towards the sun with his wax-laded wings, nobody at his side as he burned to the sea.
And then he saw Katsuki, swathed in wings of cherry blossoms, floated towards him with extensions of elegance and grace. If he was a senior, he would be high amongst the clouds with Viktor. He would be there .
Yakov had only mentioned the skater's technical ability. Katsuki had gotten somewhere in the 30s for his component during the short and whilst performing was hard to learn, it was normal for Junior skaters to have that sort of PCS score. There was no other training that could help him. Maturity would come slowly and surely.
It was his technicality that everyone was focused on - if he had the technical skills already, he would have more sway in the judges' eyes. After all, even if competitions were supposed to be seen independent of each other, judges were human and consistency paid.
That was what Viktor had expected to see - a diamond in the rough, technical skills that would tide him over until he gained the experience to be able to properly emote. Once he entered seniors, he would be able to work on them better.
Perhaps, Viktor had even hoped that he would see a younger version of himself starting back from the ice - cold, alone in his genius, a figure carved out in ice.
And then Katsuki had shoved those thoughts down Viktor's throat so that he could eat his words.
He was nothing like he thought - bright and warm , the junior skater had something even Viktor himself could never touch. He skated like he was alive .
Joy seeped out from every arch of his back, in every extension of his arms and the twizzles of his steps. His love for the sport was in every movement he made. Skating was a language that Viktor thought he alone was fluent, but to see another skater speak out, and scream out the words - 'Isn't skating fun ! - ? It made his heart leap .
No-one had ever made him feel that way about skating, not even himself.
Viktor had broken out into a crawling laughter watching Katsuki perform his free, silenced by the screams of the audience. His stomach had painfully constricted in disbelief, fear and elation.
This skater, this no-name, second-rate figure skater from Japan had come and done the impossible. He made Viktor breathless.
Viktor had hugely underestimated him. Yakov had underestimated him. And still everyone was right. Katsuki could wipe every senior skater with a single, perfectly executed triple toe-loop and be done with it.
There were no words that could describe it. No matter how many synonyms he looked up, nothing could come close to describing how Katsuki skates - no word probably ever could. Beauty was subjective, but everyone in that rink knew that Katsuki skated ethereally.
For so long, Viktor had been alone in his world.
Like Sisyphus himself, each competition had been akin to climbing an uphill battle, rolling a boulder only for it to push him back down with the immense weight of expectation, and if he simply stopped moving, it would roll down the hill, with Viktor pinned underneath it.
Watching Katsuki skate though, god , watching Katsuki skate - it was as if the very moment his body became taut with exhaustion, the moment when he ached to stop, there was a warm hand planted on his back, sturdy and stable, holding him steady so that he could look up to the mountain and see what exactly he was aiming for.
The summit was right there , and it was Katsuki who came out of nowhere, reminding him to keep pushing. Now, if only he could talk to him.
Viktor doesn't even know what Katsuki looks like up close. He had been able to sneak near the top of the auditorium, high up enough to see the curve of Katsuki painting a story with his body on the ice, but not close enough to see what he actually looked like.
There had been too many people, enough so that he hadn't been able to catch an actual glimpse of Katsuki on the televised screen. There was always the fear that Viktor would somehow be recognised, so he had stayed near the back, body prepared to flee if someone so much as looked his way.
Luckily, no one had been paying attention to him - for once, he was grateful - but it had also meant that Viktor had never gotten a clear look at the kid. All he had seen was a blur of pink on the ice, contrasted with ebony-black hair and skin kissed to a golden hue.
He really needed to put a face to the skater, otherwise Viktor's mind would concoct a whole image of him, and then he'd be utterly disappointed when he actually met him.
It shouldn't be too hard. Despite being in China, Katsuki was one of the only Asian male figure skaters at the Grand Prix. If he looked for the pitch-black Japanese sports jacket, he'd be 70% sure it could be Katsuki.
He'd only just turned eighteen, so Viktor is expecting a pubescent, spotty-cheeked kid who looks like he's on top of the world after just getting a taste of victory.
(Okay, so maybe he's projecting - Viktor had to suffer through a four-step skincare routine just so his face wouldn't look like he'd been prodded with needles with how fast he broke out in red boils. He hates being both sweaty and oily - it did not make for a pleasant Olympic moment when he looked lke a fucking cyclops up on the podium. Lilia had come to the rescue, as she always does, with her matching skin-tints and concealer, and no-one was the wiser.)
The point is, Viktor already has an image of Katsuki in his head.
Maybe he'd bring the kid under his wings, anyone who becomes a pain in the ass for Amelin is automatically in his good graces. He might even be a cute teenager, all chubby-cheeks and wide eyes, like Milia! Ugh, kids are so adorable-
Oh.
Oh.
A figure is walking down the hallway, towards Viktor.
His back is straight, taut like an arrow, and is something he knows Lilia would kill Viktor to have, like a ballerina who floats with every movement.
His thighs are clad in skin-tight, black sports pants, and Viktor can see the sliver of skin between where his shoe stops at his ankle and where his leggings end. It's golden, and Viktor feels like an old, stuffy Victorian pervert who's mouth dried up at the sight of some exposed ankles.
It's not because he's on the ice - Katsuki just moves in that way, like he's walking on air.
Every turn of his body is light. He delicately slows down his steps so that the lady beside him is able to keep up, but it's the manner in which he does it, the curve of his body that has Viktor's mouth drop open. Katsuki is not a kid.
All of a sudden, the rumours he heard from Mila about Yuri's idol flood into his mind:
"Katsuki's kind of stand-offish, he's always got narrowed eyes, like if you get too close, he'll shoot lasers out of them. It's kind of intimidating, but it's why Yura likes him so much."
Intimidating doesn't even cover it. Viktor can't do this - not when Katsuki looks like that - like he's been carved by the god's himself. If Viktor looks too close, he knows that his mortal eyes will melt out their sockets.
His feet move without him thinking, and he finds himself plastered against the wall, gripping the visor of his cap over his eyes so tightly to cover his face. Viktor can't meet Katsuki looking like this. His hair is stuffed in the back of his shirt, he's not wearing any mascara or eyeliner so his lashes look non-existent and he's wearing a sweatshirt with holes in them!
He can feel his breath pausing, and despite all of his sudden pain, he hopes that Katsuki will somehow make the first move, recognizing him from afar. Would it be too much for Viktor to trip up and fall into his arms?
Katsuki's walking closer and Viktor's mouth turns even dryer. His hair is pushed back, revealing a beautifully creamy forehead, void of any imperfections.
Katsuki raises his head and catches Viktor's eyes. His eyes are narrowed just like Mila told him about, but instead of finding them intimidating, all Viktor could think about was how dark they were. Ringed around by long eyelashes and framed by two, thick eyebrows, Katsuki is mouthwatering. He wants Katsuki to look at him like that, completely focused on only him, maybe whilst he's pushing Viktor against-
Katsuki turns back towards the staff member, walking straight past him.
He didn't even spare Viktor a glance.
Yu-Topia Katsuki Hot Springs
Hasetsu, Japan
"How much longer until the press conference starts, Hiroko?"
"A few minutes!" Toshiya's voice comes out to answer instead, placing down trays and trays of katsudon and sashimi. "Mari, can you turn up the speaker please, Yuuri-kun will be on soon!"
Mari stumbles through the huge rows of customers sitting inside the Yu-Topia Katsuki banquet hall, placing down huge pints of beer for everyone.
There has never been a day when Yu-Topia Katsuki has been so busy - but then rumours had spread about Mari's parents throwing a streaming party for Yuuri's competition and then the whole town descended upon the small inn.
Far exceeding what should be maximum capacity, and surely was a breach of fire safety, Yu-Topia Katsuki was overrun with people clamouring to watch the wide television that showed their hometown hero performing internationally. The Katsuki family had been overwhelmed.
Yuuko and Takeshi had soon commadered the reception, Yuuko melting into the hostess role perfectly while Takeshi was steaming away in the kitchen. Koushi and Ichika, Takeshi's parents, also came along with their help, Ichika spending all her time making multiple pots of rice for the katsudon whilst Koushi was forced to keep the triplets entertained.
It was a stressful day, but nothing could stop the ache of Hiroko's cheeks from the wide smile stuck on her face as she walked through the room, buzzing after seeing Yuuri's winning performance. Her baby , he did so well! He was the Junior Grand Prix Champion!
She accepted all the congratulations shouted towards her, bowing in appreciation. The chatter of the room started to bounce across the walls, and Hiroko could hear snatches of conversation all around her.
"Can you believe Yuuri-kun did so well? Breaking the world record!"
"I know! And he was so close to breaking the free program world record too - what was it that he got?"
"159.4! How much did second place get?"
"I think in the 130s? Yuuri-kun was about 26 points clear of him!"
"He's doing so well! After his coaching issue, I was sure he'd give up - but look at him now! Maybe Minako should switch to coaching full-time haha!"
"Do you think she'll train my kids up? I know a lot of them want to start skating again after watching Yuuri at Nationals."
"Minako-senpai only coaches Yuuri as a favour." Hiroko cuts into the conversation, her face spread in a cheerful, approachable grin. "Yuuri-kun does a lot of the work himself."
"She's right!" Someone guffaws by the side. It's an elder of the town - Saito-san. He has his two granddaughters, Sakura and Haru, clinging around his shoulders. His daughter, Hina, was somewhere behind the bar, drafting beers to help ease the stress on Mari's shoulders during service.
Saito claps the patron's shoulder. "I came around the other week to give Hiroko-chan some of my son-in-law's eggs - he cares for some of the most vivacious of chickens, I tell you! Anyway, there I was, entering into the hall with bird poop on my sleeve and a crater full of fresh eggs, and I saw Yuuri -kun explaining to Minako what their game plan was going to be! He had a whiteboard and everything!" People laugh all around, and Hiroko joins in.
"Of course, that's not to say that Minako isn't a good coach, just that she's not a figure skating coach." Saito takes a gulp of beer, pointing his finger back towards the original patron who had asked first, cheeks flushed red.
"Perhaps we should start sending our kids back to her ballet studio, since it is her speciality. I know Kura-chan here has been begging to take classes, and Haru-chan wants to see if she can start skating again."
"Okukawa-san won that fancy award years ago, didn't she?"
"The Benois de la Danse." Hiroko points out. "It's the greatest honor in the ballet world. She was the first Asian ballerina to be awarded the honour, if I remember correctly. Even now, there hasn't been another Japanese ballerina to be awarded the same prestige."
There are noises of awe spreading around those who can hear. Saito laughs loudly, slamming his hand on the table, obviously drunk but looking immensely proud. "Hasetsu ain't so bad, is it?"
Someone else shouts from across the room. "We raised two people recognised worldwide!"
"Okukawa-sensei and Yuuri-kun are doing such a good job representing us!"
"Our pride and joy!"
"Speaking of our pride and joy." Mari shouts loudly from the front, waving her hands to get everyone's attention. She opens her mouth widely and screams, "The conference is starting!"
There's a huge bustle of energy, and people hush in anticipation. Toshiya, Takeshi and his mother immediately leave the kitchen and make their way towards some empty seats near the front. The triplets start crawling all over their father, and Yuuko swipes a quick drink of water, before making her way towards them.
The whole town quietens as Mari twists the speaker knob till it reaches the highest level of sound. "Just a few more seconds of photos, and then we will begin the press conference."
"It's starting!"
"There he is! Yuuri-kun, well done!"
"Oh, your son looks so handsome here, Hiroko!"
With Michele Crispino on his left and the Canadian skater, Andrew Carpenter, on his right, Yuuri is at the epicenter of the fever-filled clamour of reporters shouting out his name. The inhabitants of Hasetsu each start to whoop, excited every time the camera pans towards Yuuri's face.
"Pfft." Takeshi snorts into his mouth. "He looks like he's about to cry."
"Stop being so mean!" Yuuko digs her elbow into her husband's side.
He isn't wrong though. To people who don't know Yuuri, they'd think he was the vision of calm and collected, eyes narrowed in concentration. Only those who were close to him knew the reality - Yuuri was going to implode.
There are at least ten flashes bursting across the screen sent from reporters and cameras in the room - ten ! At a junior event! . The sudden bursts of light causes Yuuko to blink rapidly, blobs of multi-color blindness festering at the back of her eyelids.
She knows that Yuuri's glasses would cause every photograph taken of him to be ruined - the flash against his lenses would flare out and make every photo unusable - but Yuuko also knows that look on Yuuri's pinched face. He was dying to actually, you know, fucking see what was going on.
"Can all cameras move towards the right side of the room, please? So that the reporters can come forward." A voice echoes from the screen, and there is a flurry of movement on the television screen as the press conference begins.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman. Welcome to the press conference for the Junior men Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final. First of all, a huge congratulations to the three athletes on the podium, here in Beijing. It was amazing to see."
"Let's start with some general questions. For Japan's Yuuri Katsuki: you've finally reclaimed your championship title from three years ago after a shaky few years, with a new season's bests and the new world record in the short program. What are your emotions like today?"
"I-I'm just very grateful I was able to perform my programs well. I'm proud that I was able to have clean skates for both the short and the free, and I'm glad that my efforts were rewarded." He somehow stammers out his response, and there is a moment of disconnection as everyone realises he's speaking English.
A few seconds later, there is a small translation at the bottom of the screen, and Mari shouts it out so the people at the back know what he said. Seconds after that, another voice repeats the translation, coming from the television. Apparently, NHK Sports had invested in a live-translator, and Mari blinks, her cheeks staining in embarrassment.
"Yuuri-kun speaks English so well. I can't even hear an accent!"
"His teacher was saying that recently Yuuri-kun has been paying extra attention in class! What kind of parenting does Hiroko and Toshiya do to have him as a son?"
"They must've saved a country in their past lives."
The announcer quickly turns his attention to other skaters, whose answers the crowd barely comprehend. The room slowly starts to chatter away, not paying attention unless Yuuri is on the screen.
A patron calls over Mari to fill up her pint glass, and Mari ends up having to fill the entire back tables. Her eyes are continuously drawn back to the screen, waiting for the moment that Yuuri would start to speak.
"Now, we will turn to the reporters for some questions. Please state your name and organisation and then your question and who your question is for. Yes, you, the reporter at the front."
"Mel Campbell, for Eurosport. This is a question for Katsuki." The room straightens up, recognising Yuuri's name and waiting for the translator to start to interpret the words.
" You have been credited as the main choreographer for both of your programs: the short, in which you broke the four-year held world record and the free program, where you changed the entire layout and choreographic sequences. What was your thought process in changing this?" There is a voice-over in Japanese, a typical male voice trying to quickly translate what the lady is saying.
"Well, I didn't really emote at all with my original short program. I knew I could do better and the piece was holding me back. I had a small accident a few months back, there was no injury but I was still recommended to rest. Because I wasn't allowed to train, I was kind of going crazy. I found the piece of music for my short program whilst scrolling on my phone and from there it was just me messing around in my bedroom, being bored out of my mind. When I finally did get to go on the ice, there was no way I could go back to my original program. My new coach thought the same thing too."
"So you created the piece only a few months ago?" The incredulity in the reporter's voice was conveyed to the people of Hasetsu without the need for a translator. They all laugh - of course Yuuri would make a world-breaking program within only a few months to spare.
"Yes, I guess you could say that."
"Oh, look at his ears! Yuuri-kun is so red, ha!"
"Then, could I talk to you about Lohengrin? The original program had a lower base value and very few transitional elements. This time however, you completely transformed the program, including back-counters into triple jumps as well as putting difficult triple-triple combinations at the end of the program, like having your last jump be a triple flip-triple toe. What caused you to change your program?"
"To start with, we had to scrap the original program completely. I could talk about the technical reasons for why I made the layout of the program to be like this, but the reality is that it was all based around the music. I felt that those specific jumps worked best for the musical beats at that time. The original format did nothing for the music or the story."
"Because of my background in ballet, I brainstormed a lot with my coach, and we decided it would be best to start from the beginning. It was hard to remove the emotional baggage that came with the first rendition, but I found myself emoting more with the character of Lohengrin from the opera when I based the program in it's literary premise. The idea of backlogging the jumps only came after I had created the step sequence and the choreographic sequence - it was purely an artistic choice that matched the music rather than a tool for earning points."
" I- thank you for the comment." The reporter stammers out. There is a stunned silence from both the television and the room. That was not the answer of an eighteen-year old Junior skater.
"Yo, when did Yuuri get so smart?" Takeshi whispers to Yuuko.
"I- I don't-" Yuuko stammers, eyes wide as she watches Yuuri answer difficult questions, all in fluent English. "He- he's been different recently, more mature."
"I guess it's to be expected. He did choreograph the pieces himself." Takeshi laughs loudly. "Look everyone, Yuuri-kun's gotten over his fear of public speaking." The crowd seems to break from Yuuri's hypnotic presence, and suddenly there is an influx of clapping and whooping.
"He's grown so much!"
"Wow, Toshiya- your son is so well-spoken."
"He's so mature for his age, answering all of these difficult questions."
The conference continues, with questions being thrown towards the other skaters. Hiroko rises from her seat, filtering out of the kitchen to help refill drinks and other Hasetsu delicacies. Someone orders another round of sashimi, and so Toshiya rises to start cutting the piece of fish into thin slices, ready to be dipped into delicious sauce.
Hiroko grabs a tea-towel that had been thread through the ties of her apron. She places a warm hand on top of Toshiya's to stop him leaving the kitchen, lifting the towel to pat at her husband's forehead where sweat had started to form.
"Is this real, Toshiya?" She whispers, eyes welling up.
Toshiya swallows the emotion that rises in his throat. He places the huge tray of sliced fish back on the kitchen counter, before wrapping his wife closely into an embrace. "It's real."
"Toshiya, Hiroko! You better come quickly! Morooka's on the scene and he's only looking at Yuuri!"
"We're coming!" He yells out. He turns back towards his wife, his smile stretching out like a crescent moon on a new day. "Let's go see our son."
" Hisashi Morooka, NHK Sports. First of all, I just want to congratulate you, Yuuri-kun."
"Thank you, Morooka-san. " Yuuri bows from his seat, but his body seems to relax at the sight of a familiar face. " Please feel free to speak in Japanese. I think I've used up all my English vocabulary today."
"Haha, of course, then, if it isn't a bother. At this year's Grand Prix Final, you had, what I would call, two career-defining performances. Yesterday, during the short program, you set a new world record with 84.04 points. Then in the free program today, you scored 156.2 points, just shy of the world record by 1.12 points. You also broke the combined score by earning a total of 240.24, which is almost five points ahead of the previous world record which was also made four years ago by none other than Russia's Nikiforov-senshu. It's a number that we have not seen in years."
"All of those scores are in fact this season's best scores. It's a far cry from a few months ago, when you were struggling to even qualify for the event. What big changes did you implement in your training to cause such a huge increase in ability?"
Yuuri pauses, as if wracking his brain to find the right words. "Rather than an increase of ability, I think it was a change of environment, and well, maybe a change in perspective. I had always been able to do these technical elements, but I... "
He takes a deep sigh, as if resolving his nerves, before he opens his mouth to speak.
"I've always been able to do those technical elements, like the triple axel or triple-triple combinations. I just was never in the right mind-frame to be able to do them in competition. There were personal things that affected me within the last few months, things went sour with my previous coaching staff, and then I had a minor accident where I was off the ice for two weeks before nationals. It came up in conversation that it might be best for me to skip the year and start again next season for seniors."
Yuuri laughs lightly, almost absurdly. "But I didn't want to leave Juniors on such a bad note. I come from a small town, it's a little village-like area on the coast of Japan. It's really small." He squeezes his fingers together to emphasize his point and laughter emits from the screen by reporters and cameramans alike.
It is silent inside Yu-Topia.
"It was when things were going wrong that I realised how many people were really behind know, my teachers would always help me when I was struggling to balance training and school, or the Oji-san from my corner-shop would always give me a free sports drink when I went by after practice. Just little things that reminded me that skating wasn't for nothing, that there were people who actually liked my skating."
"My coach, she's never taught figure skating before. She's been my ballet teacher since I was three, she's a huge name in her own right within the ballet world, but she took time out of her own life just so I could have someone I trusted wholeheartedly next to me. She stayed up until three in the morning for a whole month just learning everything she could about the sport. That's how I've been creating this historic moment, because of all the love and support I've been given. It's the main change that I've faced - my perspective has changed."
"My village raised me and this medal is in response to that. I hope that I can be a person that makes Hasetsu and Japan proud. I am a product of all of their love and support, and I hope that I'm able to convey that love and pride whenever I get to perform on the ice."
18:00
Day 2 of the Grand of Prix Figure Skating Final
The Original Dance, Ice Dance (Seniors)
Capital Gymnasium Arena,
Beijing, Republic of China
"The Original Dance segment of the Ice Dance competition will commence soon. Introducing your athletes for the Ice Dance segment of the Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final. From Russia, Annika Kuznetsova and Michail Lebedey!"
Screams surround Yuuri as Russian flags fill the arena. He looks down at the boards, lips twitching into a semblance of a smile when he watches Yakov, (Yuuri always has a vicsereal, bodily reaction whenever he sees Yakov sporting a full head of fucking hair ), putting the fear of God into his team until his face turns blue.
"Under the guidance of famed coaches, Yakov Feltsman and Kaitna Kozlova, they are two-time Russian National Champions and last year's World Champions. They are looking to win their first ever Grand Prix Champion title today, here in Beijing."
Yuuri sighs, wondering how on earth Yakov had the stamina to be able to coach so many disciplines within one day - he was tired just thinking about it.
Minako claps primly beside him, as they settle into their respective seats in the designated athlete's area. There weren't many skaters watching the competition, most of course were too busy preparing for their own competition.
"I'm upset that we missed the compulsory dance, what did they do this year?"
"Viennese waltz or a tango, I think."
Minako makes a sound that can only be categorised as a whine. "I missed them skating to a tango ? A travesty, Yuuri. A fucking travesty."
Yuuri snorts, filling his mouth with some of the arena snacks that Miyamoto had snuck him earlier. Apparently, becoming the Junior champion means that the JSF pays for the extortionate arena food court prices. He finishes his corn dog off with relish.
"I'm still upset you didn't get into ice dancing. You would've done so well, too."
"Of course, it's not like I just broke a four-year world record."
"I am tired of your sarcasm. Let me mourn for what might've been, child."
They turn back towards the warm-up rink, although Yuuri's eyes are trained on David and Yumi going through a few of their skating steps. They must be trying to sync their movements up , Yuuri thinks, watching as they join their hands together, moving as one.
"David and Yumi are a good pair."
"Yeah, their synygy is good. I still think they should've done the tango instead of waltz."
"You're completely right, Yuuri." Minako pouts. "They have such good personalities and they work well together, they just need a better program. Hell, your gala piece could easily beat them-"
Yuuri slams a hand across Minako's mouth. "Don't talk about that." Against the palm of his hand, Yuuri can feel Minako's lips stretch out into a grin. He pulls his hand away with a heavy sigh.
"We're going to have to talk about it sometime, since you decided to perform it."
"I panicked alright!"
"Well, you should've backtracked and chose to do your world-record breaking short program , you know, like everyone else did?" Minako raises an eyebrow, but her lips twist in mirth. "Don't worry, it may not be as polished as you wanted it to be, since we were planning to perform it at Worlds, but If you forget anything, just improvise! You're good at that! Plus, you're not putting any jumps in, so you won't have to worry about hurting yourself to try and spice things up."
"Yeah, I still want to include the delayed axel at the end but it's mostly just steps."
"You and your steps." Minako pinches his cheeks, ignoring his yelp of protest. "It's not helping your case against me turning you into an ice dancer, or better yet, coming back to ballet and becoming a danser once again!"
"Sensei, nooo!" Yuuri cries, "Can you imagine me with a partner? I'd die"
"If it was Viktor you'd be singing a different tune-"
" Stooooop ." Yuuri whines again.
"From Japan, David Yamaguchi and Yumi Kihara. They are two-time Japanese National Champions and last year's Four Continents Champions. This is their second time qualifying for the Grand Prix Final. " Yuuri cringes as Minako's screams ring in his ears. She waves a Japanese flag, a huge flag - he has no idea where she even found that, obnoxiously around.
"You're so embarrassing."
"You will have to get used to it. When you go to seniors, I will 100% be at every single one of your competitions."
"Please don't."
"No, I will. I definitely will be there, with a huge banner saying 'Yuuri, your sensei is here!'." Yuuri groans, turning back to watch David and Yumi do a few stroking exercises.
"Speaking of seniors," Minako turns towards Yuuri and lowers her voice. "Any thoughts on who you want to coach you next season?"
"I… I have an idea ." Yuuri scratches the back of his head, but his eyes are tuned towards the ice rink. "In fact, I was hoping that Miyamoto would be able to schedule a meeting with him for later."
"Here ?" Minako's eyes widen in shock. " Who ? Where are you looking- no ." She gasps in both outrage and delight as her eyes follow who Yuuri is looking at. "Does he even coach men's?"
"He will. I hope."
" Skating for the United States of America, Kalie Gomez and Lucian Blake. They are four-time US National Champions and last year's Grand Prix Final Champions."
"At the Olympics in Quebec, they became the first American ice dance team to medal at the Olympics since the 1970s, winning the bronze medal. Coached by famed ice-dancer himself, Olympic champion Celestino Cialdini, they are aiming to win a consecutive title at this year's event."
19:42
Day 2 of the Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final
Short Program, Men's (Seniors)
Capital Gymnasium Arena,
Beijing, Republic of China
There is a buzz inside the arena, a feeling that something is about to explode. Yuuri breathes in slowly through his nose. His hands are trembling. Minako reaches out, resting a warm palm on the side of his arm.
Anticipation builds in the room, like the swell of a balloon being filled with hot air, waiting for the moment it will pop . Up above, there is a mounted, televised screen showing the backstage warm-up area of the competition, but it's empty. Underneath it, there is the blackscore board, it's LED lights blinking a bright, golden hue with the names of the skater's ranked by their position.
"Chris did well to place in the top three." First place was a Canadian skater, who unveiled a stable quadruple salchow. Chris had fallen on a quad toe-loop.
"I know he'll be upset with himself." Yuuri sighs. "He's always been a slow burner, I'm sure he'll do better at the finals."
"We still have one skater left - he'll probably place fourth."
"Yeah… one skater left." Yuuri can feel his stomach start to twist. "I- I think I need to go to the bathroom."
"No!" Minako slams her hand on his arm, gripping him tightly. "You are not going to miss seeing Viktor Nikfiorov live . This is everything you ever wanted, granted the seats aren't the best, but it's Viktor . The love of your life, the reason you started skat-"
"Shh!" Yuuri's face feels like it's on fire. There are a few eyes turned towards them, and Yuuri prays that none of them knows Japanese. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Good." Her eyes turn to glare at him, but there is no heat behind the stare. "I wish we had better seats though."
"We're in the athlete's box - you weren't complaining earlier."
"Yes, well that's because we got them for free. But this is about Viktor . We need to be closer to appreciate him. I promise to get us some better seats soon, Yuuri. Maybe for Europeans?"
"I have exams."
Minako cries at that. "Ugh, I forgot! The entrance exam! I'm such a bad coach."
"Yeah you are, because you got the wrong dates." Yuuri laughs. "The entrance exam is in January, I've got the TOEIC in Feb."
"Oh- why the TOEIC, wait, you're serious about Celestino."
Yuuri shrugs, "Depends if he'll take me on. I've been thinking to apply to Wayne State, they have a good Physics department-"
"Wait, wait - you're thinking of studying too?"
"There's no way we'd be able to afford me moving just for skating, especially with trying to get a visa. If I get an academic scholarship, I'll be on a student visa. Wayne State also does a bunch of sports bursaries, so it would help even more with rink expenses."
"Stop, just give me one second to process all of this information." Minako closes her eyes, looking very much frazzled. "We are not going to talk about this when Viktor is about to come on to the ice and skate, but mark my words, Katsuki Yuuri. When we get home, we are having a conversation." Yuuri flinches. " With your parents."
"Hai, sensei-" Yuuri's body is frozen. Metaphysics aside, it's like his soul is being hurled from his body, unbinded in a limbless state.
" Representing Russia, Viktor Nikiforov!"
" He's skating! Yuuri, look there he is!" Minako screams along with the hoards of fans within the arena, roaring their love for Viktor as he skates to the middle of the rink.
He has never heard such loud cheers. People are crying, he's sure someone just now had to be escorted because they fainted , and there is Viktor, soaking in all of the attention.
Yuuri doesn't even realise he's holding his breath until it all floods out of him. Viktor, Viktor, Viktor - in the flesh! Seeing him during the Opening Ceremony did nothing to curb his appetite - there had been far too many people around him, a clear separation between juniors and seniors. He had been keenly aware of cameras trailed on him, making sure that he didn't seem like he was pining too much. But now, Yuuri could watch him all he wants.
His eyes are on him before he even realises it. Nothing could take him away.
Viktor Nikiforov ❄️ ?ￂﾠ ✓ v-nikiforov
[A picture of Viktor holding up a Russian flag that falls around his shoulders. A gold medal hangs from his neck. There is a quirk of smile set by his pink lips, playful and coy.]
Этот конкурс был незабываемым. Я выигрывал титул подряд и буду упорно работать, чтобы быть готовым к чемпионату Европы и мира. Спасибо за вашу поддержку.
Thank you, Beijing!
[This competition has been unforgettable. I have won a consecutive title, and I will work hard to ensure I am ready for Europeans and Worlds. Thank you for all your support.]
1k ? ﾸﾏ 11k.⟲ 15k.
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