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It took a few days for the news to truly sink in. Even after all the press conferences, even after the fittings for the team uniform, even after shooting the various photo shoots and commercials for sponsors in the immediate aftermath of the announcement, Yuuri hadn’t had the time to process the information.
It really only hit him when the train pulled into the station at Hasetsu.
Any other year, he would have been on a place right now, heading back to Detroit to prepare for Four Continents and Worlds. But with the Olympics less than two months out and an obscene amount of promotion—in Yuuri’s opinion, anyways—scheduled to take place in Japan during that time period, it didn’t make sense to go back to Detroit when they had easy access to an ice rink and accommodation in Japan. So instead, Phichit was going to fly out to Japan and Celestino was going to host a mini training camp for Yuuri, Phichit, and the other Japanese skater assigned to the Olympics—Kenjirou Minami. And until that started, Yuuri’s sole focus would be on spending time with his family and Vicchan and convincing everyone in town to not hold a parade to celebrate this latest development in his career.
At least he and Celestino had planned in advance for the possibility of Yuuri being named to the Olympic team. It had seemed like pointless contingency plans initially, even though Celestino had framed Yuuri being assigned to the Olympics as a certainty rather than just a mere possibility—in Celestino’s view, Japan had qualified for two berths in the men’s discipline and Yuuri and Kenjirou were the only two men who consistently competed at the international level, making that part of the team practically pre-determined—but Yuuri had remained skeptical. Olympic seasons were cursed, after all—cursed with countless injuries—and even though he competed internationally, Yuuri knew that he and his jumps were inconsistent at best. In his opinion, it was a massive risk on JSF’s part to send him to the Olympics.
But they’d announced him as part of the Olympic team and it was just starting to sink in.
“Yuuri!” a familiar voice sang out as he disembarked from the train, dragging his suitcases behind him. More would be coming, since Yuuri hadn’t packed nearly enough clothes for the Olympics, let alone the two months in between. They would be coming with Celestino and Phichit in a few days, after his coach met Phichit at the airport.
Yuuri turned wide brown eyes on Minako—and Mari, who was standing just behind her.
Huh, he hadn’t expected his sister to meet him at the train station.
“I’m on the Olympic team,” he whispered, sounding horrified as the pressure started to hit him.
Minako and Mari traded looks.
“Told you it hadn’t sunk in yet,” Mari muttered out of the corner of her mouth before giving her younger brother a fond look.
Yuuri clenched his hands, digging his nails into his palms, focusing on the brief sparks of pain to keep from hyperventilating. “I’m going to the Olympics,” he whispered again.
“Yes, you are,” Mari confirmed. “Now pass over your bags. You’ve got celebratory poodle cuddles and katsudon waiting for you at home.”
Yuuri tried not to cry at her words, though a grateful whimper slipped out. That sounded absolutely wonderful. All these years later and his sister still knew him so well. After all, it would be hard to panic with both Vicchan and katsudon to focus on.
Mari threw an arm around his shoulders as she took the suitcases from him and squeezed him tight for a heartbeat. “Congrats, little bro,” she murmured briefly.
Yuuri relaxed somewhat under the pressure of her arm. “Thanks.”