Chapter Text
"Is that her?"
"Holy crap, it is—!"
"Oh man, I thought she got a seed—"
"She's just here to practice right—?"
"There's no way —"
"Excuse me, Miss Yuitsuka?"
Inori Yuitsuka turned and put on a big smile for the man with the reporter's pad and his photographer. "Hi there!"
"I'm Takeshi Morimoto from the Asahi Shimbun, I'm so glad I caught you — I was wondering if I could get a statement on your participation in this year's Chubu Block Event for Novice A?"
"Of course," said Inori. "It's nothing worth speculating too much over — it's important to build experience no matter what, so I wanted to skate today. And of course I missed my friends and wanted to spend more time with them, and this is a good opportunity to meet."
"But isn't doing that on the ice—"
"Since I don't count towards the quota for the Chubu Region, everyone has an equal shot at making it to Nationals," Inori said pleasantly. "I'm sure you understand how much time practice takes up for all of us, so it's hard to find time to catch up."
"I see, and in that case will you be staying to watch after the Novice A skating?"
"I will," said Inori. "My sister of course will be skating in Seniors, and so will Riina Kojo. I'd be a bad kouhai if I didn't support everyone in Seniors from Meiko Wind!"
"Do you have anyone you're worried about this year, Miss Yuitsuka?"
"Well, it's a foolish skater who doesn't worry," said Inori with a small laugh. "Coach Sonidori says we should always be prepared, and I feel confident in my abilities."
"But is there anyone in particular that you are cautious of?"
"I wouldn't say so," said Inori. "The whole field this year is very competitive. Just getting a seed doesn't mean I can take gold at Nationals with ease, and I look forward to seeing which of my fellow skaters will be with me at Nationals this year."
"If I can ask—"
"I'm sorry, but I'd like some time to talk to my friends before the opening ceremony," said Inori. "If we could wait until after the event…?"
"Of course," said the reporter. "Thank you very much, Miss Yuitsuka!"
"Thank you for the questions!"
Inori bowed to the reporter, then smiled and waved as a battalion of photographers took photos before she stepped into the room for the opening ceremony. There were still cameras scattered around the room but these at least wouldn't be transmitting until the ceremony started. Pockets of skaters were scattered across the room, but Inori spotted the Novice A section quickly, off in the same corner it always was.
"Yuna-chan!"
Yuna Yagi turned and waved as Inori walked up. "Inori-chan! I see you made it through the gauntlet."
"Eh," Inori said, waving a hand dismissively. "Me this year, someone else next year, you know?" She glanced around the group and saw mostly familiar faces. "How have you guys all been?"
"Oh you know, same old," said Momoga. "We got some new girls this year, have you seen?"
Inori looked over where Momoga was pointing. Two she didn't recognize, but one—
"Hikaru Kago…"
—-
Hikaru was calm. She was a snowfield on a winter's evening. A quiet forest in the dead of night. There was nothing that could perturb her.
Certainly the fact that she was at her first Chubu Block Tournament did not faze her in the slightest.
She took a slow breath in and held it, trying to center her mind. Nothing to be nervous over, this was just another tournament. Just like every other tournament she had been to with Lux Higashiyama. Just like—
"Hikaru-chan?"
Hikaru's eyes snapped open to see Inori looking down at her.
"Inori-chan?"
Inori smiled wide and cheerful. "You made it! I'm so glad."
Hikaru smiled back. "I said I'd compete with you today, didn't I?"
"But you took so long to pass the Level Six exam," Inori said reproachfully. "I was getting worried."
"I'm sorry for worrying you," said Hikaru, her smile turning embarrassed. "But I made it."
Inori's smile didn't change, but when she spoke somehow everything was different. "I've been waiting for you."
—-
Six years ago the Yuitsuka Family moved. One thing and then another happened and they were compelled to move to a different part of Nagoya. As it happened, this meant that Mika Yuitsuka had to change schools, and therefore skating clubs. It was otherwise impossible to make it to practice and still have time to get any amount of schoolwork done.
Meikoh Wind had room for new students, and so Mika started her training under Coach Sonidori. Inori followed her sister to the side of, and then onto the skating rink. It was immediately clear that like her sister, Inori was filled with figure skating talent. The same could not be said of the Yuitsuka Family's finances — one figure skating in the family was expensive enough, supporting two seemed nearly impossible.
But one way or another they scraped by. Inori spent a lot of time picking up Mika's hand-me-downs, one name scratched out on the tongue of a pair of skates to be replaced with another. Dresses, too, which often didn't quite fit right and made it just that little bit uncomfortable to skate in.
But Inori grit her teeth and kept skating, spending more and more time on the ice, working later than everyone else until finally Coach Sonidori came in to turn the lights off and insist that no, she couldn't skate just a little longer, she had to stop.
It was a wonder she didn't get any major injuries as a child.
Her hard work paid off. Soon everyone was talking about the Yuitsuka Sisters — Mika and Inori, the sibling powerhouse coming out of Meikoh Wind. They talked about how Mika was effortless and elegant on the ice, full of restrained power that expressed itself in graceful curves and beautiful jumps. They talked about how Mika and Riina were two of the greats in Japan right now, even after Mika's terrifying accident that made her pull out of Olympic Qualifications. They talked about how, one of these days, Mika Yuitsuka was going to be an Olympic Medalist. And they talked about how Inori was just like her older sister.
Inori hated it.
Inori skated and skated and jumped and jumped and every gold medal she won seemed to say "just like Mika" on the bottom of it. She twirled and spun and lifted her arms and stretched out her fingers, again and again, and always the shadows seemed to grow darker around her.
Over the years it became harder and harder to go home, where her sister was. More and more, Inori would find herself falling asleep on Coach Sonidori's couch after a late dinner, then wake up tucked into a guest bed as Mrs. Sonidori — Eva-san — turned out the lights.
She didn't want to worry her parents. She tried to make herself go home on time, tried to get along with her sister. It was so hard though, when everywhere she turned the pictures on the walls and the reflections in the glass showed the face of someone she could never surpass, could never grow apart from.
That didn't happen in the Sonidori household.
Inori's things started accumulating in the guest room she kept staying the night in. First some clothes, her toothbrush, then some school things. She realized one time when she got into the wrong car and nobody raised a fuss that something had happened at some point, where her family had very quietly and very gently fallen apart.
She didn't cry. She wasn't a little kid, wasn't a crybaby. But it did make her very sad.
She poured herself into practice, got passing grades with Rioh's help, and kept skating. Kept jumping. Kept trying harder and harder.
The night she met Jun Yodaka was another late practice session. She heard footsteps behind her and didn't look up.
"Just one more, Coach," Inori said, brow furrowed as she barreled down the side of the rink, eyes focused on the end as she prepared for a jump.
"I'm not your coach," said Jun Yodaka, and Inori nearly tripped. She whipped around to stare at a man she had never met before in real life but had seen countless times in magazines.
"J-Jun Yodaka?" Inori stammered. It wasn't possible, was it?
"That's me," said Jun. He leaned on the boards along the side of the rink, appearing entirely apathetic to the situation.
"What are you doing here?"
Jun shrugged. "Coach Sonidori and I go back a long way. He's supposed to be meeting me for drinks after practice today."
"I see."
"You're practicing jumps?" Jun asked.
Inori nodded. "Um, well, really, it's my routine for my next tournament," she replied. "I know it's not much, but…"
Jun nodded. "It's very boring. You should do a higher difficulty."
Inori flinched and felt the old familiar resentment stir in her belly. "Is that what you think?"
Jun shrugged. "It's just an opinion. If you suck, then I guess that's all there is to say."
"I don't suck."
"Prove it," said Jun. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and tapped one into his palm. "Only losers talk. Medalists prove themselves through action."
Inori grimaced and went around the rink again. She picked up speed as she went, curved around the end, and twisted into a double Lutz as she passed where Jun had taken out his lighter. He flicked the ignition as her skates called out a challenge, and barely glanced at her as he took a drag on his cigarette.
"Very good," said Jun. He blew out smoke as Inori circled back defiantly towards him. "I'm sure you're very proud."
"I am proud," Inori said. "It's my highest scoring jump."
"It's like watching a machine jump," said Jun. He tapped his cigarette ash onto the ice, where it sizzled. "There are animators who could draw a more exciting double Lutz."
"Excuse me?"
"I didn't stutter," Jun said. He pulled on his cigarette. "You're a competitor, why are you doing such easy jumps? Do something more difficult, and we'll see if you're really as good as you think you are."
Inori grit her teeth and did another lap, building up speed with her blood boiling. This smug, condescending man was not the Jun Yodaka she had imagined when she was younger, but she would wipe that look off his face if it was the last thing she did.
She made the turn at the end of the rink, pushed off hard with her skates. She lined herself up, made sure that Jun Yodaka was looking her way, then jumped.
It was a triple flip, the only triple she could do right now that was worth any points. Triple salchows were her favorite, the ones she did for fun, but Jun Yodaka wanted to see her try something difficult. Well, this was it.
She landed, a little heavy, her foot in the acceptable window but not quite straight. She wobbled on the exit, just managed to keep her footing by gritting her teeth and holding her core as tight as she could. Far from a perfect jump — another thing where she had yet to surpass her sister — had yet to grow out of the long shadow being cast. Inori took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly, sliding around back to where Jun Yodaka was already finishing his cigarette.
"That was a challenge for you?" Jun asked.
"It's my roughest jump," said Inori. "I don't quite get full rotation, and my hands are a little too far spread. I keep overshooting and over-rotating, but now I've started overcompensating the wrong way. I can usually land it, but it's wobbly. If you watch closely, you can see it's not quite right. Always just a little bit off."
"Is that so."
"It is."
"It's hard to see from the side of the rink," said Jun Yodaka. He tossed the butt of his cigarette over his shoulder and leaned forward on the boards. "I almost missed those things you said."
"That still means they're there," said Inori. "It's not a perfect triple flip yet, so I don't use it in competition. It's not one that's as good as— as good as my sister's."
"That doesn't really matter does it?" said Jun Yodaka, and Inori felt something like electric fire shoot through her. "Your problem right now is that your skating is boring. I've seen it all before."
"I'm just like my sister right?" Inori asked, almost by habit, but she felt like something different was about to happen than every other conversation with an adult she'd had. "Everybody says so."
"Not in your triple loop," said Jun Yodaka. He pulled out a second cigarette and raised it to his lips. "Your triple loop looks like nobody else but Inori Yuitsuka."
The fire in Inori felt like it was going to crawl out of her mouth and burn her alive. "You… you mean it?"
Jun Yodaka nodded. He flicked open his lighter and raised it to his cigarette. The lighter clicked twice before the cigarette caught. Jun Yodaka pulled on the cigarette, the end flaring, then breathed out a cloud of smoke. He put his lighter away and looked back to Inori. "I wonder, you spend so much time worrying about skating like Mika Yuitsuka, but what would you look like if you always skated like Inori Yuitsuka?"
Inori stared at him. Jun stared back evenly and took another pull of his cigarette. The ember on the end glowed bright against the dimmed lights of the stands. She had been praised by so many adults in her life, but none of them had said that to her. She could feel herself shaking and clenched her fists tight to make it stop. Inori watched the ember claw its way down Jun's cigarette and felt like she was going to burst into vapor and vanish into the night.
The ash on the end of Jun's cigarette dropped.
"Jun!" Coach Sonidori shouted in the distance.
Inori flinched, the fire inside of her seeming to wink out. She made for the gate leading off the ice, brushing past Jun and jostling his cigarette from his fingers. It hissed where it landed on the ice. "I guess we have to go."
Jun looked down at her. "Mm."
"Jun?" Coach Sonidori said, walking into the rink. "Where did you— oh."
"I'm just going to put my skates away, Coach," Inori said, fitting her blade guards on. "I'll be back out in a minute."
"Alright Inori, go ahead," said Coach Sonidori. He watched her hurry off.
"You've met her then?" Coach Sonidori said as Inori turned the corner. She paused, straining her ears, as Coach Sonidori continued: "She's similar in style to her sister, I wouldn't have thought you terribly interested."
"You're wrong," Jun said. Inori heard his light flick as he lit up another cigarette. "Inori Yuitsuka has a very unique style of her own."
—
Shinichiro didn't think much of the meeting at first, but then Inori started disappearing from practice. At first everyone thought she had an injury, but it didn't take long for the Yuitsukas to realize she wasn't with Coach Sonidori, and Coach Sonidori to realize she wasn't back home with the Yuitsukas. A burst of frantic searching nearly resulted in a call to the police when Coach Sonidori received a text message from Jun Yodaka. It was just an address to a small skating rink that was hardly ever used by anyone out on the outskirts of Nagoya. Both families raced over as fast as they could.
They burst in, ready to tear Jun Yodaka to pieces. They all came to a stop as they saw Inori complete a flawless triple flip, more beautiful than they had ever seen her jump ever before. Not just technically excellent, but artistically — something about the way she moved through the air was like seeing figure skating for the first time again.
Inori landed, followed through, and spun on the spot to face her family.
"G-guys?"
"Jun didn't tell anyone where he was taking you," Coach Sonidori said, stepping forward with crossed arms. "Jun, you have some explaining to do."
Jun lit a cigarette. "Inori was having trouble with her triple flip. I fixed it."
Mika rushed past Coach Sonidori, coming up to the boards where Inori had drifted, looking anxious and ashamed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
"That was amazing, Non-chan," Mika said, pulling her sister into a tight hug over the boards. "What a wonderful jump. I could never have landed that when I was your age, well done."
Inori bit her lip and hugged her sister back, burying her face into Mika's shoulder to hide her tears.