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There’s a Difference Between Jump Rope and Double Dutch
“Can you still do this, Phichit?”
Phichit snorts, gives the red and white ropes to Celestino, and then heads for a bench to take his skates off. “Can I still do this,” he repeats. “Yuuri, Ciao Ciao asks if I can still do this.”
Yuuri begins rolling his shoulders. “Ciao Ciao, can you still do this?”
Celestino just raises an eyebrow. “I’d be more worried about yourself, Yuuri. Can you still do this?”
“It’s not fair.” Phichit motions angrily at the nearest scoreboard. “He nailed all his jumps! He deserved higher GOEs on all of them!”
The landings hadn’t been perfect on all of them, but they had been as close to it as possible. According to the commentator, that’s where most of the deductions had come from. The judges seem to be using different calculators or just an entirely different concept of math, because there’s a confused murmur running around the stadium as audience members pull out phones and search for figure skating scoring rubrics.
Emil almost looks lost once he’s done in the Kiss and Cry without Mickey around, but he plasters a smile on his face and heads for the other skaters when he notices them all looking in his direction.
“One of the judges married someone who was Czech,” Yuuri whispers to Phichit. “Apparently there was a nasty divorce.”
Phichit stares at Yuuri. “How do you know that? And why does some judge’s spouse matter? We’re talking about Emil’s score!”
Yuuri points. “Ciao Ciao told me. And apparently all the judges are very close. Very, very close.”
There’s in inflection in Yuuri’s voice that suggests “they’re biased against anyone who even shares the same borders as the Czech Republic.”
Phichit makes a point to smile extra wide when Emil joins them beside the ice, water bottle held in his hands.
“You were amazing!” Phichit compliments. He throws a nasty look at the judges. “Their math is wrong.”
Emil just smiles and shrugs. “It might be, but that doesn’t help my score.”
“Let’s go out for drinks,” Phichit suggests when Emil doesn’t. “Have a nice night out. Try some American moonshine.”
“I would like that. Thank you.” Seeing Emil so subdued is unnatural.
“No moonshine,” Celestino presses. “It’ll make you go blind.”
Phichit just snorts. “I meant legal moonshine. How would you even know that, Ciao Ciao?”
Celestino has the grace to laugh along with everyone else. Emil still looks dejected and actually starts to go red in the face when he notices one of the judges glaring at him from across the ice. He quickly turns around and hunches his shoulders.
“What did I ever do to her?” Emil asks quietly.
Celestino opens his mouth and then closes it: it’s best not to gossip.
“Ciao Ciao, I don’t want to skate,” Phichit says as he looks between Emil and Yuuri. “Everyone else keeps forfeiting for their friends, I want to!”
Celestino seems torn, but he nods. He laughs again. “It’s not like I can force you out there to do a step sequence.”
Phichit beams and then hugs Emil. “I’ll do something for you,” he promises.
“You don’t have to-”
“I want to!” Phichit lets go and holds Emil at arm’s length. “You’re always so nice to everyone. You don’t deserve to be treated like garbage just because you’re… er… So futuristic with your programs!” Phichit corrects hurriedly.
Emil sniffles a bit and throws himself at Phichit. “You’re so nice, too!”
Yuuri clears his throat. “What are you going to do, Phichit? Take selfies?” It’s a teasing comment but a serious one at the same time.
Phichit and Emil slowly break apart. Phichit curses softly in Thai. Celestino points a finger at him.
“Language!”
“Sorry, Ciao Ciao!” Phichit shakes his head and puts his hands in his already slicked back hair, ruining it. “I could take selfies, but that’s not big enough.” He smiles at Emil. “I need something just as fun and futuristic!”
Yuuri suddenly gasps and pulls his blue and black backpack over his shoulder. He sets the bag on the ground and digs around in it for a few seconds before starting to pull some type of rope out just in time for Viktor, who had been talking with reporters, to come up behind him. Viktor gasps, horrified, and ties to shove the rope back into the bag while he starts to blush.
“Yuuri! There are children here!” Viktor hisses.
Yuuri rolls his eyes, slaps at Viktor’s hands, and then pulls out the white rope covered in white and red beads. “Get your head out of the gutter.” Yuuri starts to laugh when Phichit’s eyes light up. “I guess I never really cleaned my bag out.”
“Yuuri, you left Detroit years ago!” Phichit protests as he makes a grab for the rope. “I can’t believe you still have these!”
Phichit firmly believes that Yuuri’s backpack is like Marry Poppins’ bag, magical, given that Yuuri has pulled out an entire first aid kit before and still had room for his and Phichit’s favorite boxes of candy. Boxes. Plural. Plus all of Yuuri’s usual skating gear, spare clothes, and the offer of, “I can carry something of yours.”
“I thought I had seen the last of these,” Celestino says with a mock groan. “Really, Yuuri?”
Yuuri just smiles as Phichit begins to unwind the neatly wrapped ropes: neither are tangled.
Viktor just purses his lips. “That’s not what we use in the bedroom,” he says. “All those plastic beads would pinch.”
Yuuri rolls his eyes. “Head. Gutter. Out of it.”
Emil seems intrigued. “Jump ropes?” he asks.
“Not quite!” Celestino replies immediately. “Can you still do this, Phichit?”
Phichit snorts, gives the red and white ropes to Celestino, and then heads for a bench to take his skates off. “Can I still do this,” he repeats. “Yuuri, Ciao Ciao asks if I can still do this.”
Yuuri begins rolling his shoulders. “Ciao Ciao, can you still do this?”
Celestino just raises an eyebrow. “I’d be more worried about yourself, Yuuri. Can you still do this?”
Emil and Viktor just cock their heads: they’re clearly missing something important. It’s like the three have some type of inside joke going on. Phichit pulls on his sneakers and then continues stretching while Yuuri keeps rolling his shoulders and pin wheeling his arms. Celestino just raises both hands to ensure that his hair is still pulled back into a tight ponytail before glancing at the ice.
“Phichit, you’re taking credit for this,” he reminds as he looks at the queue of skaters. “All of this. I may be your coach, but I don’t control you. This was your idea.”
“Actually it was Yuuri’s idea,” Phichit say with a grin. “Right, Yuuri?”
Yuuri just smiles and then removes his glasses and hands them to Viktor. “Watch us,” he says. There’s a teasing hint on his voice that is just bordering seduction, but it’s more so amusement.
There’s a group of press and skaters and coaches already gathering as Yuuri and Celestino spread out two long ropes side by side with a foot of space between them. Phichit’s name gets called for him to skate, and Phichit just lingers by the gates and waves his arms until he’s sure every camera is on him.
“Emil, this is for you!” Phichit says.
Having someone switch his music had been remarkably easy, and Phichit offers a thumbs-up: his music starts.
It’s not anything from The King and the Skater. Or anything similar to it. Or anything like Phichit’s usual skate music. There’s drums that keep a beat and then a guitar. Yuuri and Phichit start to dance, just a bit, totally in sync. Nothing more than a few slow body rolls and some simple turns. And then Yuuri leans over to grabs the ropes. Celestino goes for them at the same second and then they begin to turn them. Phichit is still at the gate and there are gasps of anticipation because there’s only one explanation: Phichit is going to double dutch to some early 2000 American Indie music.
Except that Phichit jogs for the ropes, does a round off into them, crouches, twists his knees around, and then lays himself flat on the floor on his back. Yuuri and Celestino continue to spin the ropes and each take a massive step to the side just as Phichit does a perfect kick up to get himself back on his feet. He doesn’t touch the ropes. The arena begins to cheer and Emil watches in fascination as Phichit continues to dance around the ropes. No, not just dance: breakdance. Breakdance well. And double dutch.
“Phichit, you’re amazing!” Emil calls.
Phichit comes close to touching the ropes, but Yuuri and Celetino have clearly spun before. The two of them are perfectly synched as they step and lunge and pull. It’s almost like the ropes aren’t there, although Phichit does stop breakdancing long enough for Celestino and Yuuri to turn the ropes as fast as they can for him.
There are gasps and cheers and Phichit waits for the ropes to slow before he flips out of them. The music is still going, and he gets close to Yuuri. Yuuri and Celestino each lift the ropes, spin once in an impressive display, and Phichit takes the ropes from Yuuri without breaking their turning. Yuuri cartwheels into the ropes with ease, breaks out a few moves that more than a few people recognize as similar to The Banquet Incident some years ago, before Yuuri leaves. He swaps with Phichit, and Phichit finishes in time with the music. There’s thunderous applause, and Phichit wipes his forehead, waves at the arena, and then motions. Yuuri and Celestino continue to turn the ropes, albeit much slower. Phichit drags Emil closer.
“Can you?” Phichit asks.
Emil catches his ankle on the ropes, tries again, and gets it. He’s grinning, hopping in place, and Viktor approaches, speechless.
“How?” he asks as he looks at Yuuri, Celestino, and Phichit. “Can we bring jump ropes to the next banquet?”
Phichit just starts to laugh and joins Emil. He waves Viktor in, and Viktor quickly drops his things, Yuuri’s things, and his bulky coat. He hesitates just beyond the ropes while Yuuri counts him in.