Lessons had ended for the day and that left Yuuri alone in the rink yet again. Then again, it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to being alone here. He rather liked it. Sure the rink was nothing like Ice Castle Hasetsu, but it was still nice and somewhere he could go if his anxiety was acting up.
Besides, he was needing to run through his programs again anyways. Even if it had been a few months since he arrived in the city and who knows if he was going to be able to leave, he still needed to prepare for the rest of the season if there was a way back home. Besides, he didn’t have programs for next season yet, considering the current one wasn’t done yet.
Eros needed a bit more work, considering the changes he had made to the jump composition, and sure, while he was landing the flip more consistently since the Grand Prix Finals, he still struggled with it a bit. No wonder no one else but Victor had landed a quad flip (well, before he did, even if the first time resulted in him falling).
He skates over to the edge to set up the music player, skates out to the middle and sets himself in his starting position before starting the music and slipping the remote into his pocket. Soon the rink is filled with the sounds of vibrant violins and strings play, before Yuuri launches himself into the program. Step sequences and spins in the first half, a triple axel from a spread eagle, quadruple salchow and triple toe loop combination and a quadruple flip at the end. The landing’s a bit shaky on that last jump, but he still finishes, arms wrapped around his body.
It’s only after that he notices someone else near the rink. They probably saw that. “Ah, I didn’t notice you come in. Did you see all that?”
He doesn’t really have to stay in shape anymore. He really doesn’t, now that he no longer fights, and in his depression-fueled fog he almost convinced himself not to go and stay in bed. Maybe his pride hasn’t been totally crushed, or maybe he’s here out of a sense of misplaced obligation. But somehow or other for some reason or other, he’s at the sports complex.
The thing is, though; Hien absolutely, inarguably, irrevocably fucking hates sportsball.
Don’t get him wrong. It’s just team sports. He doesn’t hate exercise, but he doesn’t enjoy it, either. For him, it’s something you have to do to get stronger and that’s it, but he finds that without a DI to scream commands at him, he can’t keep himself focused. So after doing who-knows-how-many miles on the treadmill and lifting a dumbbell or two, Hien exits the weights station and ambles aimlessly through the gym.
Maybe he should just go home and not be bothered to eat again. Sounds like a plan. Maybe he’ll expend the extra energy and buy a bag of chips from the vending machine. As he approaches it, the door next to it catches his eye. The ice rink. What, so they have frozen pools to skate on all year? Hien thinks back to happier times. Back when they were stupid cadets, he used to go skating with Hauenkua in the wintertime. He always made it look so easy, and Hien was no good at it and despised being in the cold--but he always tolerated it for his sake.
How many years ago was that, now? He’s almost surprised he can still dredge up a pleasant memory of Hauenkua as he enters the rink. He has no reason to be here. He probably just wants the feeling to last. But his interest is genuinely sparked as he watches a figure skater practice a very impressive routine.
Oh, great, he’s a waste of oxygen. He never did anything that amazing, did he? “Most of it,” he answers as the figure skater addresses him. “I mean, what I saw was good.” It’s rare for Hien to give a compliment, even one as limp-wristed as that, so he means it. “I wish I could do that.”
