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It was three in the morning, and Phichit was staring at himself in an airport bathroom in Taipei, trying to not feel miserable.
Usually, optimism came to him so easily. It was strange to need to force it like this. But a lot – a lot – had gone wrong for what was supposed to be his debut at a senior championship, his very first of many Four Continents to come.
First had been the barrage of news noting that one family member after the other couldn't travel to watch him. Sure, he would have cousins in the audience, a couple of uncles and aunties, so it wasn't like nobody would be cheering him on live, but he'd never been to one of his bigger competitions without at least one of his parents or siblings watching him from a seat.
But older sis had caught the flu, and older bro had a big university project he needed to finish, and his parents were busy with important business meetings, and all of those were good reasons to not be there. Which sucked. And they loved watching him skate, too, which made Phichit even happier to show them how much he'd improved since last time.
And this had been on the heels of having his stomach drop when the entrant list was initially released, and his name hadn't been there the way it was supposed to be. A lot of frantic emails and phone calls later, and he'd learned that the federation had kind of forgotten to put his registration in, but thank goodness, someone was friends with the right person, and the ISU let it slide and slotted him in.
Then it had come time to depart Detroit. The plane had been delayed due to a snowstorm, and then his flight had been outright cancelled. When Celestino first went to the desk, they'd spent a lot of time clicking through the flights on the computer before telling him that they weren't going to make it to Taiwan on time. One of Phichit's aunties worked in travel, though, and she'd been able to help them out and find a new flight, though they'd had to drive to another airport, and there had been a lot of tense waiting to see if that one would be cancelled, too.
But in the end, thankfully, they'd boarded the flight, and it left on time. His seat hadn't been the first-class one his parents had originally sprung for, no. A baby kept crying throughout the whole flight. Someone was snoring three rows over really loud. A person nearby had a bad cough, which made Phichit paranoid that he'd get sick despite the mask he'd worn as a precaution.
Yet! Now he was here! With six hours to go before the first public practice. Maybe he could sleep through it and go in for the second?
He splashed water on his face and tried to clear his tired mind of all the bad thoughts about the flight and the scheduling and the audience, and how his face looked puffy and his eyes were red and his skin was somehow both oily and dry from the stupid airplane air, and—
Phichit let out a long breath and splashed his face again. He focused on not thinking further bad thoughts, which he had to do on occasion to maintain his positivity, like when he didn't like his scores and doubts came into his mind about the judging, and other things that made figure skating a bit more of an uphill slope for him than some of his competitors. How it was hard to be the first person from a tropical country making a name for himself, how maybe the judges would be biased against him for it, how maybe he hadn't gotten to top coaches like Celestino until too late....
"Stress training," Phichit murmured to himself. A travel situation couldn't get much worse than this, right? He'd made it, after all, and he was going to compete! Now he could use it as a bonus experience for dealing with a bunch of stressful things and not letting it shake him up before the competition!
Once he'd dried his face, he felt a lot better already. First Four Continents – ideal start or not, he was coming for it!
Celestino was waiting for him outside. He looked upset. Possibly the stress was getting to him, too. Phichit couldn't manage one of his usual big smiles, but he found a smaller one for him.
Until Celestino said, "They lost our checked luggage."
"But," said Phichit. Whatever he'd done to hoist his heart up stopped working, and it plummeted through the floor of the airport.
"I know," Celestino said.
"But."
"I'll keep talking to them," Celestino said. "You should go ahead to the hotel and get some sleep."
"But," Phichit said, his voice wobbling.
Celestino patted his shoulder. Phichit bit his lip and tried very hard to keep on a brave face and not start crying.
Airline regulations wouldn't let them travel with figure skates in their carry-ons, because someone somewhere had gotten it into their heads that the blades could be used by a weapon, even though they would absolutely suck as one.
So Phichit had his costumes in the carry-on Celestino had guarded while he was in the bathroom. He had his skate bag. But not the very things he needed to compete.
~!~
Three hours of sleep later, Phichit dabbed concealer on the terrible-looking bags under his eyes. Celestino had eventually given up at the airport – Phichit didn't think he'd gotten any sleep at all – but he'd said they could try to find something at the venue from the lineup of vendors for skate companies. They wouldn't be broken in, so it wouldn't be a great solution, and Phichit was already resigning himself to potentially needing to withdraw and go sit broken-hearted in the audience.
He swallowed, blended out the concealer, and went to meet Celestino in the lobby.
As he'd feared, there weren't any skates he could buy from the vendors in the arena. Mostly they had low-level stuff that wouldn't be any good for Phichit's triples, except for a few display models that were nowhere near the right size for him. He would happily wear the white skates meant for girls if they would only fit and keep his ankles intact.
The fitter at each booth was very sympathetic. They did their best to find something that would work for him – and not, Phichit was pretty sure, so they could make a sale – and spent time rummaging through their stock in case they had something that might work. At least everyone was being nice to him, he thought, but it didn't do much to lift his mood.
"I'll see if there's anything else I can do," Celestino said after they'd left the last booth. "If not – I'm sorry, Phichit, this is a terrible way to start your senior career."
"It's not your fault," Phichit said. "I guess a lot of things just happened."
Celestino's eyebrows dipped, and he patted his shoulder again. "Let me try," he said firmly, and Phichit nodded, though he wasn't feeling very hopeful at this point.
The practices today weren't open to the public, so the halls were empty, and once Celestino left him, Phichit felt very alone. He could call his cousins and meet up and let them commiserate with him, but the thought of explaining everything was overwhelming.
He stood in the hall for a few minutes, aimlessly scrolling through his phone and feeling sorry for himself, until he happened to look up and see one of the Canadian guys coming along, looking like he'd just gotten off his session.
Phichit gripped his phone. If he couldn't compete... he could at least indulge himself in some fanboying and begging for pictures, right?
The Canadian guy was happy take photos, asked Phichit where he was from, did the oh Thailand huh face that people often made, and called over one of the other Canadian men to take photos with him and wish him luck, too. After them was one of the Filipino skaters, who Phichit had met on the junior GP series this season – he was competing at his third Four Continents already – and they got caught up in chatting for a bit.
Phichit was feeling marginally more cheerful as he waved goodbye before he turned to his phone and scrolled through the photos. He'd heard horror stories about hardcore competition, mostly pretty cliché ones, but at least at the level he'd been competing at so far, they hadn't been true. And so far it seemed to be holding up for this one as well.
When he looked up again, a little bell in his head started ringing like he'd won a jackpot. Because walking down the hallway, not hurried like he was in a rush to get anywhere, all alone, was Katsuki Yuuri.
Phichit had admired him for a couple of years now, since he happened to see a video of him when looking for music inspiration online. Yuuri wasn't the steadiest competitor, sure, but when he was on? Phichit couldn't say what it was about him, but he didn't move the way most skaters moved on the ice. It was almost like he was meant to be an ice dancer, except he could also land a stunning triple and sometimes a quad.
And here he was, in person, wearing glasses and huddled in a Team Japan jacket, and Phichit couldn't let this chance go. He zoomed over, then slowed down and tried to not sound too enthusiastic.
"Hi!" he started with, and Yuuri jumped.
"Oh, um. Hi?"
"My name's Phichit, it's my first Four Continents!" The other guys had sounded kind of charmed by being looked up to by a younger skater, so it seemed like a good angle. "Can I take a picture with you?"
Yuuri stared at him for an awkward moment – shit, maybe Phichit had interrupted an important train of thought or something, he only wanted a photo – but then he said, "Ah... sure?"
Phichit stepped up next to him to take the shot and carefully angled his phone, a gift from his parents for making the top 20 at Junior Worlds last year. Yuuri still seemed confused about what was going on, but when Phichit held up his fingers in a peace sign, he put on a little smile and joined him in posing for the picture. It came out pretty well, and Phichit showed it to him after.
"Thanks!" he chirped, putting on more cheer than he was really feeling at the moment. "I really like your skating. I've only done a couple of little events as a senior, so it's cool to be here for the first time and meet guys like you!"
"You... like my skating?" Yuuri repeated. "Thanks?"
"Of course I do," Phichit said with a little laugh at how modest he was being. "Like, your Sylvia program a couple years ago made me want to go out and sign up for ballet lessons! And your spins are always so centered and fast, Celestino, he's my coach, said I should definitely aim to make mine like that one day."
Yuuri's cheeks went pink. Was he overdoing it? "I used to skate with a friend," he said. "She was good at spins, so I would practice with her a lot. That's all."
"It paid off," he said. Probably was just practice time, much as Phichit wished there was some secret to it that he could uncover. Wasn't that how everything was in skating? Good thing it was so much fun that he didn't mind practicing for hours on end. "And now you made it all the way to Four Continents!"
Yuuri scratched his head. "It's just Four Continents...?"
Phichit stared at him, his phone clutched between his hands. He clicked the screen off unconsciously.
Just the competition he'd been looking forward to all season. Sure. Just the major ISU championship for everywhere that wasn't Europe. Sure.
Did... did Yuuri not think it was important? Even though he was here?
"Just?" Phichit repeated. A competition he had trained so hard for, where he'd been looking forward to meeting great skaters like Yuuri and standing amongst their ranks? A tremble went through his hands, something straining inside him. Maybe on a normal day he would have brushed it off as awkward wording, but after everything else that had gone sideways, it was a lot harder. "I've been looking forward to this all season, and now I probably won't even be able to compete!"
Yuuri took a half-step back. He glanced to either side, like he was looking for someone to appear in the hallway, but they were alone. "You won't?"
"The airline lost my skates. We've tried pretty much everything, but unless they show up today, I won't have anything to skate on."
Yuuri... didn't give him the pitying look the fitters had. He made an expression like that was a nightmare he'd been through before, or at least imagined. Kind of felt better, actually.
"I hope they find them." He waved his hands gently in front of him. "And it's – it's not that Four Continents isn't important!" His voice softened back to its usual volume. "But I won bronze at Nationals, so I was hoping to go to Worlds, but... so it's just for me that it's, um. I thought I would get Worlds, too."
"Oh," Phichit said, relieved. So this was a consolation prize for him having a good Nationals, basically.
Right, Yuuri was in the opposite situation from him in a lot of ways. Making the Japanese team was a tough ordeal, because they had a pack of solid guys. Phichit got the spot for Four Continents pretty much by default, just as he'd been the obvious pick for Junior Worlds, and this year for senior Worlds too now that he was old enough, even if he was still working on some of his tougher jumps. A bronze at their Nationals and still not being seen as good enough to earn one of the limited spots on the Worlds team would have hurt.
Yuuri looked away again, shifting uncomfortably, and Phichit made himself let go of his phone and tried to repair the impression they were making on each other. "It'd be nice if you won, though!"
"I...." That, thankfully, put a different expression on Yuuri's face. Phichit couldn't quite pinpoint what he was thinking, but it seemed more positive. "It would be." He scuffed one of his feet against the floor. "Should we find your coach? Maybe he found skates."
"That would be nice, too," Phichit said. Fantastic, even.
They went down the hall together until they saw a woman talking with Celestino. Yuuri called out something and waved awkwardly at her; she must have been one of the Japanese coaches.
"Ciao-ciao!" Phichit waved more vigorously.
Celestino looked briefly at him and gave him a smile, though he seemed distracted. "That's him," he said to the Japanese coach.
Now she was staring at him, more intently, and Phichit tried to look lively as they walked over. Maybe she did choreo, or Celestino was asking about summer camps. Phichit could definitely use some of Yuuri's ability to just move on a blade. How much cooler would his programs be if he didn't feel like he was fighting to speed up to his favorite music all the time?
She said something to Yuuri, who made a confused sound. To Phichit, she tried again: "You're close to Ueda-kun's height. And body size, too."
"Oh, Ueda! I know him!" He was a young up-and-comer in Japan who had been kind of having a breakout season; they'd competed together back during Phichit's first year on the junior GP series, though he didn't really know him. "Does he need a costume to borrow? Is everyone losing their luggage today?"
Celestino gave a tired laugh. "She's talking about skates, Phichit. If he's near your height, maybe his skates will fit and he can lend them to you."
Phichit's face whipped back to the coach. "Really?" he gasped. "Is that okay? I'd be super grateful, but only if it won't cause him any trouble!"
"It's okay," she said. "Katsuki-kun, find Ueda-kun."
They turned out to be rinkmates, though from how Yuuri interacted him even more stiltedly than he had Phichit, despite using his native language, Phichit guessed that they didn't speak much. More coworkers than friends. Phichit liked getting to know his rinkmates, but some people weren't interested, he'd found, super focused on skating and that was that.
Not only was Ueda willing to let Phichit try on his skates – by some miracle, their coach had guessed correctly: the skates fit.
Imperfectly, sure, he'd have to add some extra padding under his socks, but they were more or less the right length and shape for his feet, and the blade was even the same model he used on his skates. Phichit had skated in worse-fitting skates than this after growth spurts. There would be plenty of time between their starting numbers in the short program to switch the pair around, and if they did end up in the same group in the free – if Ueda had a bad day and Phichit one of his best ones – they'd figure it out somehow.
He could cry from the turnaround in his luck.
Phichit made sure to thank him multiple times and tried to show how grateful he was; Ueda laughed in response and smiled at him. They took a picture together, and Phichit knew that when he posted it later, he was definitely going to mention this act of kindness. And say nice things about their coach, and Yuuri, too, of course, Phichit was over the little weird point of their early interaction. And who knew, maybe it was the fact that he stopped to talk with Phichit that led to Celestino catching his coach!
Speaking of Celestino, while Ueda and his coach had been watching Phichit try on the skates, he'd been talking with Yuuri. The contrast between them was kind of funny to see, with Celestino back to his usual big, friendly voice now that Phichit's issues were being solved, and Yuuri a lot more quiet and reserved, and adjusting his glasses every minute. But they seemed to be getting on.
When he was done thanking the coach and Ueda, he went over and said, "Thanks for the help!" to Yuuri as well. He was going to get to skate against him after all! This was so cool. Now it all would probably be a funny story in future years, not a tale of pure bad luck.
"I didn't do much," Yuuri mumbled, but he added, "Good luck."
~!~
Phichit breathed out and patted his costume. It was meant to look kind of like a velvet jacket over an embroidered waistcoat, though with spangles and sparkles rather than real embroidery for that extra shine. His family had assured him it looked very handsome.
Not only had he managed okay in the borrowed skates in the short program – he'd scored high enough to move on to the free skate. At his very first real senior competition!
Why was he starting to feel nervous now of all times? He'd been free and happy during his short program, even though he'd really wanted to qualify for the free, too. Maybe it was because now he was among the top skaters? The bottom part of the top skaters, sure, given his placement, but they were all still amazing, people who, just like him, had dedicated their lives to the sport and shown the results of it once already this week.
Celestino's hand came down on his shoulder. "Remember to have fun," he said.
"Right!" He took another deep breath and exhaled it sharply. Even if he weren't lucky to be skating here at all after the luggage mishaps – the airline, of course, had called to say they had located their suitcases two minutes before Phichit had to go on the ice for the free skate warm-up – he was here to show everyone that he was on the senior scene! That Thai skating had a future! That he really liked his program!
It was different from his usual happy, poppy style. Celestino had suggested the music to him, an Italian classical piece. This kind of song would be good for helping him to refine his lines and movements, he said, and boy, had they spent a lot of time drilling even the most basic of things like pointing his toes to accentuate the tone of the music.
But Celestino was right, Phichit thought. That was why he was a great coach. Phichit had rhythm, he had performance, so it would be nice to show the judges that he could do even more than that.
They called his name. Celestino thumped him on the back, and Phichit skated out.
And he had fun.
In the kiss-and-cry, he smiled and waved and felt like he'd done pretty well at putting himself on the map. No falls, an enthusiastic reaction from the crowd, and lots of room still to grow when he got a quad jump down. Later they could look at the score sheets and see where he'd been dinged, but for now, he was happy to soak in the atmosphere before he had to run off and give the skates back to Ueda.
After he'd done that and changed and everything, he darted into an empty seat in the stands to catch the last group of skaters just as they started warming up. These were the guys he was going to be truly competing with someday soon! He had to do what he could to figure out how to get himself a little closer to their level and stand out among them.
Yuuri was out there, of course; he'd been third in the short program. A lot of Japanese fans seemed to have made the relatively short trip over to watch him and their other guys – or Taiwan had lots of fans of the Japanese skaters – because he could see a bunch of Japanese flags lying around in laps, waiting to be waved around to cheer them on. There had been a couple of Thai flags earlier, from his relatives, and maybe one day there would be this many for him, too.
(Phichit had brought one of his own to cheer on the lone Thai entrant in the women's program, who he was friends with.)
He cheered all the men on, but he did clap a little harder for Ueda, who fell on his first jump but then put on a good showing as though it had never happened, and then for Yuuri.
Yuuri had a totally different energy than Phichit always did when he competed. He nodded seriously at his coach at the boards right before he skated, and then he looked up at the stands with a weird expression, like he didn't know why everyone was there, or he was afraid of disappointing them. And to be fair, he did tend to be kind of a nervy skater. Phichit braced himself.
But when Yuuri started skating? Totally different story today. With a few pushes, he sped across the rink to the sound of a sad French song, and he began his program with a triple axel that cleared a ton of distance. When he landed, he held the exit edge for a long moment, his free leg held perfectly straight and toe perfectly pointed. Still riding the edge, he turned his head over his shoulder and waved his arms back in time with a soft doink on a piano.
Phichit was totally going to steal that move. Not on his axel – it was his least favorite jump, and he still struggled with the triple – and probably with different arm positions, but there was this song he'd been thinking of skating to next season where that kind of movement would be perfect. He'd have to try it out and then ask Celestino to help him work it into the choreo if it seemed good.
The rest of Yuuri's program was just as smooth, to the point where Phichit was jealous of it, and it was no surprise to him that when the points were added together, he came out on top.
~!~
At the banquet, Phichit got to take even more pictures – and told his horror story to a few of the other skaters and officials to entertain them – before he hopped onto the dance floor to have a different kind of fun. Celestino was keeping an eye on him, but he didn't make Phichit glue himself to his side, so that was fine. His parents liked to know that Celestino was watching out for him with all the international travel he had to do.
When he got too hot, he took a breather and found that the room was attached to a balcony; the first few steps outside felt wonderful, and he pressed himself to the railing to take in the view of Taipei. He loved city lights, even when they weren't in the familiar shapes of the buildings of Bangkok.
After a minute, the chill started to get to him, and after one last lungful of cold air and a look at the lights, he turned around to go inside. He was startled to see that he hadn't been alone the whole time, because Yuuri was standing next to the doors. Seemed pretty wrapped up in his own world, though; he was staring into a flute of champagne.
"Oh, hi!" Phichit said.
Yuuri blinked and looked up at him. "Hi."
"Congratulations on your medal!"
Yuuri ducked his head. He looked so different like this – maybe in part it was because of the glasses, but whatever confidence he'd worn during his program had gone away again. "Thanks," he said quietly.
"So I know earlier you said there's no secret to the spins, but I have to ask—" He put his palms together. "There isn't one for your edges or your dance skills either, is there?"
"Practice," Yuuri said.
Yeah. Of course. Practice.
But as they went inside, Yuuri added, to Phichit's surprise, "You seem like you can dance fine. I saw your programs."
"Really?" Wow. Phichit was still unknown enough that it was always cool to know that someone who wasn't related to him had gone out of his way to watch and remember how he'd done.
Yuuri took a sip of his drink and said, "Your sense of, ah, rhythm. And you can perform a lot better than me. For the crowd."
Phichit laughed at the compliment. "But you've got the lines my coach is trying to teach me... that's all ballet, isn't it?"
They found a spot near the wall to keep talking, and Yuuri eventually set his forgotten drink aside. While Yuuri was quiet to the point he was a bit hard to hear over the music and stumbled here and there over the English words he needed, he definitely brightened talking about ballet. When Phichit said it sounded like he'd been doing it for a long time, he nodded.
"My mom's friend was a ballet teacher," he said. "But she loves skating, too. She came to watch, so I'm glad I could win a medal in front of her. If she didn't like skating, I wouldn't have started."
"She must have been super happy for you, then," said Phichit, to which Yuuri nodded. "My dance teachers always knew I liked skating more. I think a couple of them hoped I would stick with traditional dance, but... it's not like skating." Yuuri nodded to that, too; maybe he'd been through the same thing with another teacher. "Then again, Ciao-ciao used to be an ice dancer, so he understands it both ways."
"Did he choreograph your free skate?"
"Yeah! You could tell?"
"I guessed from the music," Yuuri admitted. Then he added, "It's very... the program is like one set of movements. Everything is connected. I liked it."
"At first, I hated it," Phichit laughed. "But he made it hard for me on purpose. It's a lot more enjoyable now that I've practiced it so much. I'm really glad I started training with him, I feel that he really gets me, in that kind of way where he knows how to help me learn how to be even better."
"He seemed nice."
"That too!"
Phichit kept expecting Yuuri to find some excuse to leave – if only because he seemed kind of shy, or because he was the gold medalist and had someone more important to go talk with – but he didn't. They kept the conversation to dance, mostly, a bit about practice, and they just... talked. Like they were any pair of skaters, not the event winner and the unknown (only for now) new guy.
They talked until it was late enough that Phichit, still struggling somewhat with the timezone shift, started yawning too much to keep up a proper conversation, and they said their good-nights. Celestino walked him over to his room to make sure he made it there okay, and he said, "Looks like you made a friend."
"I think I did!"
~!~
After the competition, Phichit had booked an extra day for playing tourist with his aunties and uncles. When he wasn't busy staring at the sights, catching up with his relatives, or taking photos, his phone was busy with messages from back home. Everyone was proud of him for doing so well.
But then it was back to training and back to Detroit. At the airport, Phichit reluctantly handed his suitcase over at the checking counter, hoping that this time, the skates inside made it to the other side without all the fuss.
While they waited for the plane, he checked up on the social media he'd neglected yesterday. Messages from other skaters at the event, a link to an interview, a training video, an ice show announcement, news....
Wait, what had that headline said?
Phichit scrolled right back up and clicked. Over the weekend, while he and Yuuri had been competing, another of the top Japanese skaters had apparently broken his wrist, poor guy, and he'd just announced his withdrawal from Worlds because of it. And the first alternate had to be....
He will be replaced by Yuri Katsuki, who won the Four Continents Championships on Saturday.
Phichit smiled to himself. It sucked that Yuuri would be going only because someone else had injured himself, but at least he would be there in a couple of months. That meant they would be able to skate against each other again, and maybe Phichit could try to wheedle a tip or two out of him again.
And that time, surely, he'd compete skating in his own boots and standing on his own two blades. Still smiling, he liked the post.