Disclaimer: I don't own Yuri On Ice, and have no rights whatsoever on the story and its characters.
Episode One, Part Two : Easy as Pirozhki ! The Grand Prix of Tears
"I'm home." I announce as we arrive at the hot springs my parents own. I try to sound cheerful but my throat is tied.
"Hiroko!" yells Miko for my mom to hear. "I brought Yuura home!"
Mom comes down the hall running, all smiles and joy. "There you are Miko-sensei! Thanks for going to get her at the station. Yuura, welcome home!"
"Yeah, thanks mom." I look down shamefully. "Sorry it's been five years… I should've come to visit sooner."
"It's okay, no worries! I only wish I could've made it to your graduation! Want a pork cutlet bowl?"
"You know, you look like you lost weight Hiroko!" remarks Miko. Mum shakes her booty, giggling.
"You're so sweet, dear! What about you! No matter how much you drink, you never seem to gain a pound!"
I sense the wind changing for me and try to make a quick escape, but Miko is quicker.
"Yuura, I've been wondering ever since I saw you at the station… What kind of gut are you hiding underneath that bulky coat of yours?"
I leave on tiptoes, but he catches me by my backpack and yanks me back. "Off with the clothes!" He throws my coat, scarf and sweater away, before screaming in horror at the sight of my rolls. I am mortified.
Dad comes into the room at this very moment, laughing about the situation. "Wow- haha, you look just like your mom, Yuura!"
"Toshio! It's no laughing matter! A ballerina has to maintain a certain physique, and THAT ISN'T IT!" screams Miko, pointing at me as I whimper under his judgmental stare.
"You always did gain weight easily, but what can you do? How many pork cutlet bowls should we prepare for you tonight?" I appreciate that my dad doesn't nag me about my weight. Having Miko fat shaming me is enough, I don't need my family to join in.
"Uh, before that..."
"Of course dear, we understand," smiles Mom. "Go pay your respects."
Mom and Dad have set up a little temple for us to remember and honor Vicchan. It has framed pictures, his favorite toys and little stuff he liked. I light a candle and kneel in front of it.
"I'm sorry, Vicchan. I wish I could've seen you one last time." The door slides open behind me, and my older brother Miro leans against it. He's in the inn's uniform, and wears his usual bandana to hold back his dyed hair. He has new piercings on his cartilages.
"So you've decided to come home after all?"
"Miro, hi… You guys seem busy. I hope I'm not getting in the way."
"Nah, don't worry. How long are you staying, anyway? You gonna help out with the hot springs?" He takes out his cigarette pack, and places one at the corner of his lips.
"Well… I don't know."
"You got your degree, even know it took an extra year, so what're you gonna do with it?" He lights his cigarette, inhales a long puff and exhales. "I mean, if you wanna keep dancing I'll support you, but..."
"I guess… I kinda need more time to think it over."
"Sure. M'kay. Well, go soak in the hot spring. You kinda look like you could use it."
He was right, it was exactly what I needed. I soak for a few hours, then dry and join the main room where Miko is watching TV, a glass already in his hand.
"Ugh, I really wanted to go to the Championships. If only she'd qualified, she could've gotten me the dancers' room numbers!" he moans at the moment when I enter.
"So you only support me so it helps you stalk hot dancers, uh?" I tease him.
"Hey, that's only one of the reasons I support you!" he protests.
Viktoria Nikiforov is on TV, warming up before her performance. "She'll be dancing last." comments the newscaster. "What do you think we can expect from her tonight? If anyone can surprise us, it's-"
"There's a match on another channel." A man at another table says, grabbing the remote. "Let's switch!"
Miko slams his glass on the table, diving for the remote. "You can change the channel when I'm done watching dancing!" I almost witness a free fight match between Miko and the man, but leave before they engage into it. I want to go practice.
Mom notices that I'm leaving. "You just got there, you're leaving already?"
"Sorry, I wanted to get some practice in." I start jogging away, and hear my mom telling me to take care. I run until the Castle Show Center, which is still open at this time.
"Excuse me!" I say, entering.
"Sorry, we're closed. You can come back tomorrow!" answers a voice from behind the shelves. I know that person, and somehow I knew I would find him right here, right now.
"Hey Yuno. Long time no see, uh?" Why am I being shy right now?!
"Is that you, Yuura?" He runs to me. "Well don't stand here like some stranger! Tell me how you've been! I bet you came to dance, uh? Go right ahead!"
"Really? You don't mind?" I say, taking off my hood and smoothing my hair down a bit.
"Nah, I'm guessing you don't want an audience. I'll make sure you're not interrupted." He winks.
Yuno is two years older than me. He was my ballet friend. He was a really great dancer when we were little. I grew up idolizing him. The King of Castle Show Center Hasetsu. He's still as handsome as ever. He would always defend me when other kids mocked my weight or dancing. I remember we would watch Viktoria on TV, then imitate her routines on the Show Center's big stage. I even got a poodle to do like Viktoria and impress Yuno.
I warm up a bit at the barre backstage, then put on my pointe shoes. I dip them in rosin out of habit, and try a few steps for my ankles. Yuno is sitting in the first row to watch me. I remove my glasses and hand them to him. "There's something I want you to see. I've been practicing this since the competition's ended. Will you watch?" He nods, so I join the center of the stage and take position. I hear Yuno softly gasping as he recognizes the opening. It's Viktoria's winning routine, which has a high level of difficulty. It was actually a pas de deux which Viktoria had adapted to dance it alone. Since you can't rely on your partner to hold you during technical moves, you need a lot of strength to do it. I remember seeing her perform live and being mesmerized by the beauty of her movements. I remember thinking: "I have to do this." And I did.
The routines ends on a series of fouettés which leave me breathless. I can deny it all I want, I'm really out of shape.
"You're freaking amazing! That was a perfect copy of Viktoria!" yelps Yuno, slamming his hands on the edges of his seat. "Honestly, I thought you were depressed!"
"I was. But it turns out being depressed gets pretty old after a while. I'd lost my love for dancing, and I wanted it back; I thought if I copied Viktoria like we did in the old days, it would help. I've been thinking."
Before I can add anything, three small heads pop out of nowhere from behind the stage curtains.
"My boys Chat, Basque and Bourrée! They're a lot bigger than the last time you saw them, right?" Right. I had forgotten about them.
"Wow! You really did get fat, Yuura!" says one of them.
"So you're retiring?" asks another.
"You've never had a boyfriend?" teases another.
Their father screams for calm, which only seems to produce the opposite effect. "Sorry, they're big fanboys!"
"Uh!" says another voice coming from backstage. "I'm telling you, those three are some of your biggest fans. Hey!" Taneeshi Nishigori grabs me by the nape of the neck with a surprising force, and taps on my gut no matter how much I protest. "You're even fatter than me!"
I can't say I've missed them, but I kinda missed them anyways.
"Come by to practice anytime." Taneeshi tells me, stroking her boys' hair. "The Nishigori family has got your back, you know that."
"You can do it Yuura! Work hard! Lose weight!" The boys encourage me.
A lot happened while I was away. For the most part I've ignored it: I focused on dancing and nothing else. I wish I knew what to do now. I want to keep dancing, but can I do it on my own?
A new morning rises on Hasetsu. After a bit of outside exercise, I come back home to watch TV in the common room. I switch channels to find a reportage on rising star Yura Plisetski, the one who had confronted me at the Grand Prix. They film her while she's practicing and stretching, and it's painful to my ego to say the least.
"Woah! Did you see her oversplits?! That's insane!" Seeing people of her talent is really difficult for me, although it should encourage me to be better. But I want to become better, as well. I'm going to do it, even if I don't know how. But someday, I'll dance on the same stage as Viktoria again.
My phone vibrates; it's Nishigori?
Nothing could have prepared me for that text. It's a link to a YouTube video untitled "Katsuki Yuura Tried to Dance Viktoria's Grand Pas de Deux variation". It already has millions of views, and people won't stop commenting. I call Takeeshi, shaking.
"Look Yuura, I'm really sorry." She apologizes, and I can hear Yuno screaming in the background. "The boys uploaded it, and it's gone viral." I want to die. Scratch that, I'm actually dead already. I'll just sleep until I decompose.
"Yuura!" It's mom. "You can't stay in your room forever! Come out and help shovel the snow." I put on my glasses. Snow? This late in the year? Pulling the curtains I see that there is indeed a nice layer of snow covering the cherry trees and the ground. Of course I couldn't know, I turned my phone off so I wouldn't get any calls… about my internet sensation.
I dress up, and grab a shovel to help remove the snow. Just as I open the door to go outside, I notice a giant poodle sitting right there, barking. "Vicchan?" The next thing I know, I'm pinned to the ground by the said dog, which is licking my neck. "You're too big, you couldn't be Vicchan. Hold on… this dog looks exactly like...no. There's no way-"
"Morning!" says Dad cheerfully from behind me. "Looks just like our Vicchan, eh? Her owner's a new guest, some good-looking young girl with an accent. She's in the spring right now."
I open my eyes wide in realization. My heartbeat quickens and I hastily get up and run to the spring, knocking everything in my way.
"You okay? Hey, Yuura!" calls Dad.
I run until I reach the outside bath, where like promised, she is soaking.
"V-Viktoria… why are you here?" I whisper. She removes the small towel from her head, and stands up.
"Hello Yuura!" she says. "Starting today, I'm going to be your new coach. I'm going to get you to the Grand Prix final, where you're going to win." She winks. I can't hold myself back as I let out an inhuman scream.
Not once over the years has she ever ceased to surprise me.