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Mari realized as a teenager that she was never, ever going to be as good at anything as Yuuri was at skating.
That was probably for the best. Skating cost a lot of money – their parents didn't involve her in the finances, of course, but in a house with paper walls, it wasn't hard to overhear bits and pieces of conversation. And she didn't have to be a genius to realize that coach time and rink time both cost money, and Yuuri needed a lot of them.
It took up more and more of Yuuri's time as he grew older, too, hours at the rink before school and after school, then lessons at Minako's, running and stretching and more exercises in the evenings. Mari didn't know how he fit both homework and video games into what was left of his days.
If letting something eat up her life was the cost of being a genius, well, Mari was fine with her more ordinary life. Especially now that she was out of school; the quiet hours at the onsen gave her time to listen to all the music she could cram into her ears.
There was nothing she loved as much as Yuuri loved skating, anyway.
~!~
When Yuuri was twelve, he suddenly started becoming good. He went to a middle school in Fukuoka that had a lot of athletes, and he spent most of his training time there, too. And whether it was that or his newfound obsession with the cute Russian boy, suddenly he started landing jumps that even Mari could tell were harder, skating with better... something. He just looked better.
At competitions, he had always done well, when he landed the jumps, but now that something had clicked, he was reaching the podium, advancing out of sectionals, advancing to nationals.
When he came back from sectionals, looking dazed at his own success, Minako waited until he wasn't in the family living room to tell their parents that at this rate, next year he would be getting international assignments.
"International? Like where?" Mari asked, sitting up. She'd never realized Yuuri was that good. They had taken one whole international trip together as a family a few years ago, flying to Taiwan for a week. Mari was considering getting a side job so she could save up for one of her own, to Korea or even America or something. It was weird to think her little brother might be going somewhere exciting ahead of her.
"It depends on where they decide to send him," Minako said, nodding at Dad as he refilled her cup. "Thanks – most of the junior Grand Prix events are in Europe, but there's also some in North America. Might be one in Japan this year."
Not that it would be a vacation, but to think Yuuri could be going all the way to Europe... Mari put her head back on the tatami and traced its texture with her fingertips. Going to France or Germany, or one of those little countries with mountains and lots of beer or something, that sounded really cool. But nobody was going to send her anywhere.
"Europe? That's on the other side of the world," Mom said, putting a hand to her worried mouth. "Will he be okay that far from home?"
"It's not like he'll be alone," Minako assured her. "His coach will be there, remember? And depending on which ones he gets sent to, maybe I could take off to watch over him, if it would make you feel better."
"It would," Mom admitted. "Just to make sure he doesn't get lost, or in case it doesn't go well. You know how nervous he can get. He's not the kind of boy to run off on his own, of course, but he's still so young...."
Mari looked up again. Minako glanced her way and shot her a smile. "You know, if I can't go, Mari-chan here will take good care of him," she said. "Bring us back lots of omiyage, okay?"
Yuuri was given two junior Grand Prix events. The first one was in Switzerland; Minako paid for her plane tickets. Mari took a million pictures of mountains and cows, and she brought Minako back a whole box of chocolates as thanks.
~!~
By the time Yuuri was fourteen, it was clear to everyone that he was outgrowing what Fukuoka had to offer. Their parents had several low-voiced conversations with Minako before they decided that he could go to a coach near Kobe.
Naturally, he was too young to live alone. So Mari went with him. (And Vicchan, too, of course.)
Mari had never lived away from home before – she'd decided not to go to university, since she knew she was going to run the onsen one day and didn't like studying – and it was nice to get away from the grind of washing the baths and washing the dishes. Plus, Kobe was way more exciting than sleepy Hasetsu.
Yuuri mostly took care of himself as long as Mari helped cook for him and reminded him to pack his homework for school. That left her time to explore the city, visiting music stores and parks, strolling along the waterfront, checking out the weird little lamp museum and whatever else she happened on. On weekends, she and Yuuri sometimes used his day off to go somewhere together with Vicchan. Kobe was close to other cool places like Osaka and Kyoto and Nara, if they felt like taking a train.
The freedom was amazing, but it wasn't that long before she started to miss having something to do, and besides, she wanted to help pay for herself and Yuuri's living expenses. So she applied for a job at another onsen. It was part-time, several days a week, and not that far from their little apartment.
A lifetime of helping around Yuutopia had prepared her well for the work, but for the first few weeks, it seemed like there was something surprising every time she turned around. The menus had English labels and glossy photos on them for foreign guests to point to; Yuutopia had omiyage to offer, but not this many local specialties.
What this place didn't have was that Yuutopia atmosphere. It was slick with pale paint and shiny tiles everywhere, making it feel clean and modern. Yuutopia was homey and idiosyncratic. Mari imagined that she could step into any random onsen somewhere else and it would feel almost exactly like this one. But would anywhere be like peeking into Yuutopia and taking in the polished wood, seeing the low, red lanterns and those little colored lights Mom had hung when they were kids, smelling the traces of incense the that Dad liked?
Then again, this place was doing well. Yuutopia... well, it paid for itself and a little extra. Mom and Dad had let her in on those numbers recently. But they wouldn't have been able to pay for Yuuri's skating without the investments Mom had inherited and the plots of land around Hasetsu that Dad was able to rent out. And Yuutopia was one of the lucky few to still be in business.
Mari started to join Yuuri at their tiny table at night after dinner, doing homework of her own alongside him.
~!~
Yuuri went to university in Wakayama, and quickly thereafter, to America. Mari went home.
She had known she had missed Dad's cooking – she didn't have the same knack for it as him – but she hadn't realized how much she missed the warm light diffused through the house, the way the tatami smelled, the sound of dialect filling each room rather than the sharper sounds of standard Japanese.
Minako took her out to celebrate her homecoming. "You're kind of quiet," she said over her curry.
Mari scooped up more of her own curry. "Ah, well... just been thinking."
"Mm?"
Minako was patient – not a trait that Mari had ever needed from anyone, but one that had been vital for dealing with Yuuri. For once, it was her turn to try to put together what she was thinking while Minako waited for her.
"About the onsen," she said, swishing together more of the curry and the rice. "Like things we could do to market it and stuff. I did some research when I was working at that place in Kobe. Took a couple classes."
"Oh? That's wonderful, Mari-chan. Have you told your parents yet?"
She shrugged. "It's kind of weird to sit them down and act like I know more than them, isn't it? They're the ones who have been running it for ages."
"So don't do that," Minako said with a laugh. "But if you tell them that you looked into something and came up with ideas, I think they'd be proud to know you're being so thoughtful! You know, don't tell them I told you this," she said, leaning in, "but they're worried that they're pressuring you into taking it over and that you want to do something else."
"Whaaat?" Mari leaned back. "Is that why they keep telling me I don't have to? Geez, and I thought they just didn't listen when I told them it was fine every time."
Minako nodded. "So if you show you're interested, it'll really soothe their worries."
Was she interested? Mari thought about it when she came back and left Minako to drink with the regulars downstairs, climbing up to the second floor. It wasn't a passion for her like skating was for Yuuri, or like ballet was for Minako.
But then she touched the wall at the top of the stairs, the wood polished smooth under her fingertips, listening to the laughter floating up the stairwell. She thought about leaving here forever for a more interesting city like Tokyo; after a moment of contemplation, something turned in her stomach. Instead, she thought about how it would feel to know one day that it was hers. Hers to decorate with whatever she wanted to put up, hers to maintain, hers to stand in front of and say, this awesome place is mine.
Yeah. She wanted this.
~!~
Mari redid their website. First, she drew a better map for directions and added more pictures, including some she took of the local sights – the view from the top of the hill, the beach on a sunny day, the ninja house, and of course, the Ice Castle she had fetched Yuuri from so many times.
Then she paid for it to be translated. They had to have a version in English, of course, and after consulting the people at the tourist center, she added Korean and Chinese, too. Turned out they had a surprising number of international visitors in the area. Yuuri had trained with a girl from Korea for a while, hadn't he? Mari sent him the English version of the site and asked him if it looked okay, since her English was terrible.
She made up menus for any potential foreign guests, too, as well as a small manner poster for the changing areas, so they would be less likely to scandalize anyone in the baths. Then she turned her attention to the omiyage tables.
Mom seemed uncertain about changing up the selection, but once they started considering what they could add and not just take away, she brightened and started talking about distant cousins and old school friends' children. Someone's daughter had joined a pottery studio just out of town and was thrilled for the chance to sell their elegantly simple chopstick rests and cups through them, while a relative happily sent them a batch of experimentally flavored candies in pretty boxes.
They let Dad do most of the arranging. Mari didn't really understand his taste, but she had to admit, the weird dolls and the cactus did make people stop and take a look at the new stands.
Yuuri won the national championships. The tourist office made a new poster featuring him, which Mari discovered when Minako brought them a whole stack, her eyes sparkling. Mom immediately stuck one up in the entrance and clapped her hands together.
"Can you believe how much he's grown?" Her eyes sparkled. "And you, too, Mari," she said, turning her head to smile at her. "Minako-sempai, did you know that she updated our website? And look, she suggested we try putting out these new goods, come and see them...."
Minako gave her a wink as she passed by, going over to ooh and ahh over the displays with Mom.
Dad resisted any suggestion of changing the permanent menu or the drink selection – people liked the comfort of always knowing what was on offer, he said – but he did propose they get a larger TV for the main room. Mari didn't know if that had anything to do with customers, or if it made the soccer nights any more vigorous and lively, but their regulars certainly seemed happy about it.
Mari had never much liked math. But now that her parents were willing to show her their profits and expenses, she was glad she'd taken that class in basic accounting back in Kobe. Because now the numbers weren't abstractions or from made-up situations; they were the lifeblood of their onsen, the thing that determined if it stood standing for her to inherit or if it collapsed like all the others in town. The patterns told her if the ceramic chopsticks were worth it and if she'd invested wisely in the translated website. (And if she could ever save up enough to fly off to Europe for another adventure, this time one of her own.)
~!~
In the late mornings, after the deliveries had been taken, everything cleaned, and Vicchan walked, but before they opened for the day, Mari liked to sit out back and take a smoke break. Vicchan never came to join her before her cigarette was done, but he always came afterward to curl up by her side.
She poked her head out to look at the sky – an endless blue today, with a couple of seagulls flying overhead – while she slid her headphones on. Then she tipped back onto the porch and settled her hand on Vicchan's warm head, falling into her music and breathing in the soft scent of the wood, enjoying her time until opening hour.
At some point while lazing about, she took a picture of Vicchan and sent it to Yuuri. Right after, she remembered that he had a competition today – Minako had been grumbling yesterday about how it was happening in the middle of her class-teaching time – and hastily added a good luck.
Yuuri didn't reply, but then, she didn't expect him to. The read receipt told her that he'd seen the picture and her message, and that was enough. She imagined him warming up in a big arena somewhere, looking at Vicchan and trying not to feel too nervous.
Mari couldn't blame him. She'd never been the performing type, and had asked to stop doing ballet after three months of weekly classes as a kid; she'd never enjoyed having to stand up in class and read aloud. Speaking in front of thousands, or worse, competing with national pride and money on the line? No, thanks. She had to be a little proud of Yuuri just for forcing himself through that.
Then she relaxed back into her own world, singing along under her breath when she knew the lyrics to the songs and scratching Vicchan's soft curls, until Mom called out to her that it was time to open.
She set the welcome sign outside. A couple of retired folks trickled in and spent a while chatting with Dad. Mom asked her to look up what channel the skating was on and set the TV to it, so they could watch Yuuri when it was his turn to go.
Until then, Mari turned the volume down low and pulled her headphones on again, filling her ears with Takao's voice, ready for another quiet day of work.