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There’s a Difference Between Technique and Accuracy
Georgi definitely has a flair for dramatics, but he’s not a fan of dramatics when tears are involved. At least when the tears aren’t happy ones.
“It’s not fair.” Georgi definitely has a flair for dramatics, but he’s not a fan of dramatics when tears are involved. At least when the tears aren’t happy ones.
Minami Kenjirou’s lower lip wobbles as he looks at his score. His red fringe of hair seems to wilt the longer he stares at the numbers, and his coach is quick to shoot a nasty look at the judges before wrapping an arm about his shoulders and usher him away from the Kiss and Cry.
“Bigoted,” Georgi hears the woman tell Minami. “They’re only taking out their frustrations on you because you’re Yuuri’s friend and he did that lovely wall routine.”
“I’m his friend?” Minami’s entire demeanor shifts to awe and wonder for a few seconds before the announcer reluctantly lists what places that skaters are in: Minami is dead last and Georgi is the only skater left.
Minami is a rising skating star, but he has a long way to go before he reaches Georgi’s level of fame. Viktor Nikiforov might be a household name, and Yuri Plisetsky is right behind him, but Georgi Popovich is still one of Russia’s top skaters. Minami is still young and needs a few more years of experience, but Georgi can see the potential in him, and he hurts to see him wilting under one poor score.
“But it’s not fair!” Georgi repeats to himself.
That’s where the tears are coming from: it’s not tears from a disappointing performance, but an unfair score.
“Just do it.”
“Huh?” Georgi suddenly remembers that Yakov has been right beside him watching all this unfold.
“All my other skaters have done it,” Yakov mutters. “You might as well.”
“Done what?” Georgi demands.
Yakov just sighs, but there’s a fondness to it that throws Georgi for a loop. “Mila’s deadlift was quite impressive,” he notes. “And that Crispino skater has a future in boxing if she puts her mind to it: I’ve never seen such a mean right hook before.” He shakes his head. “Throw the competition for the Japanese skater.”
“You… want me to lose?” Georgi repeats slowly.
Yakov fixes Georgi with a stern look. “You think I like having my students doing Bonaly’s and deadlifting and interacting with dirty American animals?” he says. “I saw the way you were looking at that skater: you feel bad.”
Georgi can feel tears forming in his eyes. “It was such a lovely program, but that score…”
Minami had been robbed worse than Yuuri.
“Everyone else has done it,” Yakov repeats. “It’d be cruel of me not to give you permission.”
Georgi swallows. “I don’t… poetry?” he suggests. “Singing?” He has about five minutes to figure his talent out.
Yakov heads for his small bag and then reaches into a pocket and pulls something out. He offers it to Georgi who accepts with a grin.
“Is he going to do magic?” Minami asks while he scrubs at his eyes.
There’s a murmur in the stadium and social media is already comparing Viktor’s card tricks to Georgi as he taps out a deck of worn cards from a slightly ratty cardboard box at the center of the ice. They’re Yakov’s personal cards, patterned with pointe shoes in pale pinks and baby blues, something to pass the time in airports with either games of solitaire or go fish with strangers or some new fangled card game called spit which Viktor is surprisingly good at despite the speed involved and hand eye coordination, although Georgi is still spit champion.
Georgi waits for his music to start and then he waterfalls the cards with ease. He knows that Viktor can do it neater than him and people are waiting for another magic show of some kind, but Georgi selects one card from the deck, holds it up for the crowd to inspect, and then flicks it. The arena explodes when the card shoots all the way across the ice. Minami hangs over the rink wall in awe while his coach holds the back of his coat with a faint smile.
“So cool!” Minami says in awe while Georgi throws another card even faster the first.
Yakov coughs loud enough to get Georgi’s attention: the coach holds up a piece of paper with Minami’s score written on it. The arena lets out “ohs” and “ahs” of interest and a few people boo. Yakov has the paper between his fingers and he holds his arm out. Georgi skates past and flicks a card. The paper is sheared nearly in half, and the stadium begins to clap and cheer. A few more cards reduce the paper to shreds.
Yakov scrounges a green apple from someone and sets it on the rink wall. Georgi sinks cards into the fresh fruit from almost halfway across the rink and then offers a bow when he’s all out of cards. He quickly collects them to return to Yakov and is immediately greeted by Minami as he steps off the ice. Minami’s eyes are wide and he’s sniffling and holding out a pen and some type of little booklet.
“Can I have your autograph?” he manages to choke out. “You’re so cool! I’ve never had anyone throw a competition for me before!”
“Hopefully you’ll never need anyone to do it again,” Georgi offers before offering the apple missing chunks out of it.
Minami accepts it with a quiet cry of delight.