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The first – and only – time Atsuya was unable to participate in the regional junior alpine snowboarding contest, he threw a fit, to the best of his weakened abilities. He had caught a cold a couple of days before, presumably as a result of the ongoing cold season, and was now sporting flushed cheeks and a runny nose. Suffice it to say, he wasn't happy about it.
Trying to explain away his symptoms simply as weariness had been futile. His mom had all but taken one look at him before ushering him straight to bed with medicine and a stern look, ignoring Atsuya’s protests. That was still how it was now, two days later, whenever Atsuya dared to even mention practice.
It had taken less than an hour for him to grow bored after eating lunch. Another hour, and he’d been exaggerating pitiful groans and pleads. He couldn't even entertain himself on his phone, since the brightness of the screen hurt his eyes. And there way no way he'd read a book. Luckily, he had soon been allowed to escape the confinement of his room. He had opted for curling up with a blanket on the living room couch, flicking trough the channels on TV, and taking an occasional sip of the herbal tea his mom made him. Halfway through some old sunday morning cartoon, there was a sound at the front door. Atsuya perked up immediately. Shirou must have finished figure skating practice.
“Shirou!” Atsuya called, his voice hoarse from lack of use. His brother leaned into the doorway, putting down his bag and waving at him. “How was practice? And did you bring me my chocolate?”
Laughter filled the air. “Hi, Atsuya, good to see you, too,” Shirou replied, taking off his outerwear and hanging it in the hall closet. “Practice was okay. Coach said that I should continue practicing the double axel, so I can fully perfect it. I only managed it once, today. Oh, he also told me to say that he expects you in top condition by Friday’s hockey practice, so you better take care of yourself!”
He plumped down onto the couch, reaching out to ruffle Atsuya’s hair playfully. Atsuya pushed at him with his legs until he was laying against the other armrest, laughing heartily and complaining about soreness. Despite how unwell Atsuya looked, he had a surprising amount of strenght left in him. He reached into his pocked, pulling out a chocolate bar and tossing it at an unsuspecting Atsuya’s chest. Atsuya fumbled with it for a moment, fistbumping the air with a faint yessss when he realized it was his favorite candy.
A loud clank and the following string of curses made them look up in confusion. “Is that Shirou I hear?” Their father came out of the kitchen, wearing a grey apron with snowflake print, which was barely visible under the layers of flour covering him. He looked a bit sheepishly at them. “Welcome home! Dinner will be ready soon; Mom is still doing the finishing touches.” With a sigh, he leaned against the couch gingerly, careful not to get flour on anything. “How’s it going with skating? Did manage that one trick you mentioned—the uh, axel, right?”
Atsuya let his mind wander off while his brother and father talked. He thought about the oncoming competition, and the concerned tilt of his brother’s head when he’d seen him splayed out face down on his bed, a bottle of cough syrup on his nightstand. The regionals were something they had both been looking forward to all year. It would be a shame to miss it becaue of some common cold. Grey eyes landed lazily on a picture hanging on the wall – Shirou and Atsuya standing side by side, eyes sparkling and matching grins lighting up their expressions. His eyes went wide.
Grey eyes landed lazily on a picture hanging on the wall – Shirou and Atsuya standing side by side, eyes sparkling and matching grins lighting up their expressions. His eyes went wide. He bolted upright with vigor, startling the other two in the process. Baffled, they looked at Atsuya as he exclaimed– “Let Shirou take my place at the regionals!”
–
It took surprisingly little to convince his parents that his brother should take his place in the competition. In fact, they seemed oddly excited. The only problem was that the sign-up deadline had expired weeks ago. They couldn’t change participants at this point. When Shirou pointed this out, his mom and dad started giggling, assuring the kids that they were more than able to help pull this little trick off.
The sound of the kitchen timer ringing announced that dinner was ready. Shirou and Atsuya watched their parents in bafflement as they playfully hip checked each other on their way to the kitchen, joking about too big shoes and a red-faced coach. They shared an amused look, then stood up to follow.
–
Shirou had always preferred sports where his great agility could be used to its full extent. Whereas Atsuya loved speedy activities, such as alpine snowboarding and ice hockey, he himself found the most joy in figure skating and the halfpipe. They often tried out each other’s favored sports, but more often than not, it was merely for fun, or showing off new tricks. It was a way to pass time in the weekends. For the most part, it didn’t go further than that.
So it was no surprise to Shirou that he was now struggling with his alpine snowboarding techniques, he thought, as he looked down with tired eyes, from the top of the slope.
He knew that in order to perform well, he had to train a lot. He was far from as good as Atsuya was, and it was showing. Thus, as a solution, Shirou had went to practice his skills at the snowboarding slope the very next day. It was only a week left until the regional contest, and he had a fair bit of training to do. So far, though, he hadn’t seen that much of an improvement.
After yet another failed attempt, Shirou decided that it was time for a break. He laid down on the snow, not even bothering to take off his snowboard, and took a deep, calming breath. It was a shame that Atsuya got sick at such an unfortunate time – he knew that his brother would feel ill for at least another week. Whenever he caught a cold – which, to his credit, wasn’t that often – he would get very much weakened, to the point where he was bedridden the first couple of days. It was a miracle that his condition hadn't worsened since yesterday.
Shirou was dragged out of his thoughts by someone calling out for him. He instinctively raised his head to identify the voice, and his eyes widened when he caught sight of his parents waving at him excitingly. Their smiles were visible from afar. Atsuya was with them as well, and he looked determined, yet miserable. He was wearing the fluffiest, brightest orange hat Shirou had ever seen, with what seemed to be six layers of clothing. The sight was so ridiculously endearing that Shirou burst out laughing.
“Hey, Shirou!” Atsuya called, pulling down his scarf and cupping his mouth. It seemed like he had a bit of a problem moving with how he was dressed. “What’re you doing on the ground? Get up, prove you can do it!”
Filled with newfound motivation at the sight of his family, Shirou stood up before returning to practice once again. He wanted to win this. He was determined to do well, if not for himself, then for his brother, his family, who stood by his side, continuously cheering him on at every opportunity. He raised his arm in acknowledgement.
Practice went easier after that. His blood was pumping, and his legs were starting to get a little stiff, but he kept going. Atsuya stood at the foot of the slope, shouting advice and pointing out mistakes whenever he was get close enough. Every once in a while, Shirou would pause and tell him to lower his voice to not further aggravate his sore throat, but it was a futile attempt. His brother would simply take a huge gulp from his thermos whenever he coughed, and continue shouting.
At the end of the day, Atsuya had said that he’d gotten much more confident in his moves. Confidence alone would help him get better, he'd claimed. Shirou smiled smugly, and had him promise he would try out figure skating practice with him when he got better.
–
There were a lot of people present at the regionals. Shirou felt oddly calm as he waited for his turn. He’d expected himself to be more nervous, especially considering the circumstances, but he was mostly doing okay. No one had batted an eye when he showed up to register himself present.
The black snowboard jacket he wore was a bit ticker than his own, and the helmet had a different feel to it, as well. But they smelled familiar, smelled of Atsuya, so he didn’t mind. After all, it was only for today. His parents had come up with the idea, suggesting they switch clothes and tuck Shirou’s hair in under a hat. Because even though Shirou and Atsuya looked very much alike, they had distinctively different styles. Their coach would certainly recognize the difference, if he’d gotten a closer look. It was a miracle they managed to convince him that Atsuya had recovered in record time. That, and the poor guy was in quite a hurry.
In the end, they managed to get through the roll call, and the families were ushered out from the participants’ space. Only then did Shirou get a little restless. His eyes flitted around, taking in the sight of the fifteen or so teens, girls and boys all preparing themselves for their turn to come.
Shirou was determined to do his best. After all, he was competing in Atsuya’s place, and he did not want to perform badly in his name – literally. He didn’t want to disappoint his brother. The thought itched uncomfortably in his chest.
It was his turn now. He knew his parents were here, rooting for him. Atsuya had yet again managed to tag along – how his parents were so lenient this past week, he couldn’t understand. He inhaled deeply, tensing his entire body, and released all the tension with the exhale.
The start signal went off.
–
When third place was announced, Shirou was sure he had failed his brother by not even getting into the top five. He was far from amazing, A bright-haired boy, one Shirou had noticed possessed fairly remarkable skills, skipped over to the podium. The audience cheered With a heavy heart, he sighed, waiting for the two left to be announced.
“And second place goes to – Fubuki Shirou! Congratulations on your amazing performance!”
Shirou startled, his head whipping up to look towards the podium. That couldn't possibly be. The boy at his right chuckled and gave him a push towards it, and he hurried to get where they were waiting for him. He accepted his medal with a smile, thanking the judges when he passed them.
Everything went a little too fast after that. He didn’t register who won first place. He was too elated with the fact that he’d scored third. It was so much higher up than he had anticipated. The slight disappointment was still present, although he was in no way complaining with how it turned out. But…Atsuya. Soon enough, the contestants were let go to meet their families. The sound of cheering filled his ears, and he smiled as he looked for who the winner may have been. His eyes fell on a young brunette, with bright eyes and a gleeful smile. She raised her golden medal proudly in the air. Shirou was happy for her.
“Shirou!” his brother called, somewhere off to the side. He turned towards the sound, and was immediately met with an armful of Atsuya. They tumbled down into the snow. “You did it! You were great!”
Shirou pushed him off, laughing all the while. He pushed himself upright, eyes finding Atsuya, who was practically bouncing with energy in his spot. Shirou reached out to fasten his scarf, which had come undone, barely hanging on to his shoulders. “Thanks, Atsuya. It really was something. The others were great, for sure!”
His parents came to his side as well, kneeling beside him to hug him tightly, if not a little bit too enthusiastically. Shirou’s father was bubbling with excitement, but his mother paused. She leaned back, noticing the furrow of his brows. “What is it, dear, you look a bit lost.”
Shirou paused, biting his lip before looking at his brother with a bittersweet smile. “I couldn’t win for you, Atsuya, sorry.”
Atsuya roared with laughter before ultimately shoving him down again, much to Shirou’s dismay. “Are you kidding me? I mean, I definitely would’ve gotten first place, but you were pretty great, too.” His eyes held a mischievous yet proud glint as he pointed to the medal around Shirou’s neck. “And you know, I’ve never really been a fan of gold. It’s too bright and overrated. We’ve got lots of it at home, anyways. I think I prefer silver.”