Chapter Text
“With that astounding finale, Suguru Geto places in the top 6 and will be advancing to represent Japan!” The announcer’s voice boomed over the crowd screaming.
Suguru’s chest heaved as he gulped in the air, still frozen in place from his final pose. He lowered his arms from their desperate reach toward the ceiling. Numbness spread down his limbs as he followed his coach toward the kiss and cry.
Suguru tried to take deep breaths on the way rambling, “I fucked up. My axel was supposed to be a triple not a double. I’m going to get docked for that. I should’ve kept my skate…”
Coach Yaga interrupted, “Geto, stop spiraling. It was a beautiful program. Forget the axel, what mattered was landing the quadruple lutz.” They sat on the chairs in the kiss and cry and Suguru closed his eyes to recenter himself.
That program was always going to bite me in the ass.
Dedicating it to Satoru.
Stupid.
The emotional exhaustion blurred his surroundings. Breathe. Breathe. Yaga elbowed him. Eyes open. His scores are coming in. Did he win?
“Amazing! Suguru Geto takes the gold! And he scored a personal best on the free skate, 185.32. Wow! A full 20 points above his best,” the announcer’s voice rang in Suguru’s ears as he stared in disbelief at the scoreboard. He made his way back onto the ice with the other medalists and stood in shock as the gold medal was draped across his neck.
You don’t deserve this.
They should all hate you.
They all hate you.
Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.
“Geto,” Coach Yaga whispered urgently to Suguru. He blinked back into focus and turned to the reporter with a fake smile.
Suguru took a deep breath and responded, “Apologies, could you repeat the question please?”
The reporter smiled indulgently before she repeated, “First of all, congratulations on your win today. Your free skate program was outstanding. How did you make such rapid improvements between last year’s competition and now?”
Ok so maybe he should have accepted those media lessons Yaga tried to push on him. A glance toward Yaga confirmed that there would be no convenient interruption to answer for him. An answer close to the truth is easiest then. Suguru answered, “I helped create the program this year so it is something I am more passionate about. That makes it easier to give the performance my entire focus.”
“Interesting. Everyone has been speculating on your inspiration for your free skate program, First and Last Warm Spring . Is the program dedicated to anyone?”
The mask burned in place as he struggled to maintain the fake smile. Suguru laughed, “A childhood friend, nothing special.”
The reporter pushed, “Just a friend? We all watched the program and it’s obvious this is a dedication to a first love!” When Suguru refused to respond to this she continued, “You should tell the lucky girl how you feel! What’s her name?” The smile slipped from Suguru’s face.
I hate them.
They’ll never understand.
How could they?
Suguru begins to lecture them, “That is really none of your business, it's a personal matter that doesn’t concern you or any other…”
Yaga interrupts before Suguru can devolve into cursing these people out, “Thank you for your questions but we really must be going now.” Yaga guided him out of the room as the reporters yelled after them. “Let’s get back to the hotel so we can rest up for our flight tomorrow.”
Suguru slumped down in the backseat of the cab. He pressed his body up against the door trying to convince himself everything was real. The vibrations of the window against his forehead almost let him ignore his brain. The memory of Satoru’s heartbreak when Suguru first left and again during their final fight when Satoru killed him.
He hated how much comfort he took from just Satoru’s presence and the last words he spoke to Suguru, “We’ll meet again.” What a cruel joke the universe played on him to know those words would never come true.
Suguru Geto astonishes audiences with his free skate program, First and Last Warm Spring . He has been elusive about his inspiration for the program but speculations have been circulating about a long lost love. Regardless of the inspiration, the meaning behind the piece echoes through the choreography.
The program starts youthful and happy with Geto stepping lightly across the ice as if chasing an invisible figure. His musical composition takes a darker tone as he transitions into his jumps. The most notable is the quadruple lutz.
The final part of his program speaks of pain and yearning. His shoulders seem to become weighed down as he is spun and pulled in multiple directions all while reaching out toward the invisible figure. The end of his program is performed with a defeated posture as if giving up the fight.
Overall the composition was beautifully crafted and when paired with Geto’s heart-wrenching performance, earned a well-deserved victory. The interview only gave viewers more questions when Geto coyly refused to admit who the program was dedicated to. His adoring fans have one very important question: who is the lucky girl?
Suguru closed out of the article and threw his phone on the bed.
What bullshit.
He needed a nap and a good meal after his flight but he knows there will be nothing remotely edible here. After all, he cleans out all the perishables before heading to a competition. He no longer has the luxury of eating ramen for every meal.
He’s been subject to one too many lectures from Yaga about healthy eating to disregard his orders. It was ironic how much attention he received from Yaga in this life when he longed for that attention so desperately in the last one.
It’s not fair to blame Yaga for that entirely. What would've changed realistically if Yaga had realized what was happening in their second year? He definitely wouldn't have listened to any of Yaga’s reasoning.
Maybe Yaga would have given him a little more downtime between missions but that would've pushed him out sooner. It already hurt every time Satoru left him behind. Being alone in the school would've been worse.
Stop thinking about him.
His favorite Indian restaurant should be delivering today. He grabs his phone off his bed and pulls up their website. Victory! They have a deal on the chicken tikka masala meal. Suguru calls to put in his order and only cringes a little bit when they greet him by name. He allows himself 10 minutes of doom scrolling through comments before unpacking.
Before he can throw his phone back on the bed it begins vibrating. Words flash across the screen, “Mom calling.”
Fuck.
Suguru answered the call and brought the phone up to his ear. Before he could get a word out a yell came through the speaker, “Congratulations, Suguru!!!” He winced and pulled the phone away from his ear for a second.
“Thanks, Mom,” Suguru answered.
She continued, “Our son, the gold medalist! We couldn’t be prouder. Where are you going to keep it? Are you coming to visit soon? We could hang it up here. Oh! We watched the program…”
“Mom!” Suguru interrupted. A second of silence brought guilt to his stomach. “Sorry, Mom. I just got home and I’m tired. I don’t know where I’m putting the medal but I’ll tell you after I unpack.”
“… And when are you coming home?” She questioned quietly.
Fuck.
He swallowed the bile that question brought up. “I’m not sure Mom. I have to train for the next competition…” he hesitantly told her, “it might not be for a while.”
A deep sigh echoed through the phone speaker. “Honey, it’s been almost two years,” she whispered.
Fuck.
The doorbell rings.
Thank god.
“Sorry, Mom. That’s my food delivery. I need to go,” he rushes to end the call.
“Ok. I love you, Suguru,” she announces into the phone.
“…I love you too,” Suguru mutters before hanging up. He gives himself a couple of seconds to breathe before opening the door. His food is paid for in as few words as he can manage and he closes the door quickly after.
Suguru is left standing in his kitchen with a warm meal and the taste of vomit in his mouth. The taste is either a remnant of a memory or the result of the images flashing behind his eyes.
You don’t deserve them.
It’s your fault.
It’s all your fault.
His parents deserved Suguru 1.0 before he remembered anything of his previous life. Even Suguru 2.0 would’ve been preferable. The blissful years from ages 10 to 15 when he remembered in stages. He remembered Satoru first. Poetic.
Memories came to him in a jumbled mess but never any memories after his first year. Then he woke up the morning of his 15th birthday and remembered everything. Suguru 3.0 is all his fucked up glory. He spent that birthday locked in his room trying to grapple with his last memory of Satoru’s face in that damn alleyway. It took him less than a month to move out.
His excuse was he wanted to pursue ice skating full time under the new coach there. Coach Yaga. Ironic. The reality was every time he looked at his parents he saw their deaths. His hands still felt like they were covered in their blood.
Suguru has only been home once since then. After having to lock himself in the bathroom every time he made eye contact with them to have a full-blown panic attack, he decided to avoid visiting. Permanently.
He tosses the take-out into the fridge and collapses on his bed. Sleeping will hopefully stop the memories for a bit.