courage dear heart | Yuki Ishikawa

31

After Yuki's birthday, we returned to our routines. More than ever, I felt the days slipping by, and the competition day looming closer.

Every morning, I was up at 5 AM. Gym, then the mountain until 6 PM, and after dinner, I'd head back out to train with Kaito or sometimes alone. Even on weekends, I dedicated myself to training. I didn't wake up at 5, but I still spent the entire day on the mountain.

On Monday, the week of Christmas, I woke up completely drained. My heart was beating sluggishly, and when I stood up, it got worse. I had to stop for a moment, trying to find my balance and avoid collapsing from the dizziness.

I really need to take some supplements.

Before heading to the gym, I stopped by the infirmary to check my blood pressure. I stared at the results on the monitor.

It's so low...

I decided to have breakfast and take my vitamins before starting my day.

The next day, the same thing happened.

As we were tightening our snowboard bindings, Reira came up to me. "Hey, Chō, how are you doing?"

"Tired, but I'll manage... you?" I sighed.

"I'm good. Are you nervous about the X Games? It's your first time, so it's normal to feel a bit of pressure," she said, giving my hand a comforting squeeze.

I looked down at our hands. "Yeah, maybe I'm a bit worried..." Her small, warm hand gave me a sense of reassurance, something comforting in the middle of my exhaustion.

"I've noticed you're training without a break lately. Just remember, rest is as important as the training. Don't push yourself too hard, okay?" she said softly.

I squeezed her hand and looked back up at her. "Don't worry, I'll get more rest."

With that, I let go of her and began my training again.

By the next day, it was already December 23rd. Less than three weeks left before we flew to America.

The trick was coming together almost perfectly every time. But when I messed up, it felt like the weight of the world pressed down on my shoulders, and frustration gnawed at me.

I was so focused on getting in as many jumps as possible that I almost forgot to drink water. If it hadn't been for Reira and Hiro chasing me down with my water bottle, I would have just kept pushing through.

Even with their concern, I couldn't help but feel the pressure building inside.

As I prepared for one of my final jumps before heading home, I could feel the exhaustion setting in. My body was aching from hours of training, but I tried to push the fatigue aside. I needed to finish strong.

Kaito approached me with a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay? You look pale... something seems off."

I forced a smile, brushing off his worry. "I'm fine, really. Just tired, that's all."

But deep down, I knew I had pushed myself too hard. My muscles felt weak, and my head was starting to spin, but I couldn't let it show. I wanted to prove myself I was strong enough to handle it.

As I started down the slope, everything felt off. My vision blurred, and I barely made it halfway before my legs gave out. I didn't even make it to the jump. The world around me spun faster and faster until everything went black.

Ishikawa's POV

During our training session, the gym was alive with the sound of sneakers squeaking on the floor and the rhythmic thud of the ball being spiked across the net. We were almost done with practice, pushing through the last few drills, when I saw the coach walking towards me from the sidelines, his expression a mix of urgency and calm.

"Yuki," he called out, his voice steady but serious.

I turned to him, wiping the sweat from my forehead, wondering what could be so important right in the middle of practice.

He walked up to me, lowering his voice. "You need to come with me. Chō's been taken to the hospital."

For a moment, everything else faded away, the noise of the gym muffled as my heart skipped a beat. My mind raced, and I felt a wave of panic rise in my chest, but before I could say anything, the coach put a hand on my shoulder.

"Stay calm. It's nothing too serious," he said, reassuring me with a steady gaze. "But they've got a car waiting to take you there. You should go see her."

I exhaled, trying to steady my breath. "What happened?"

"She collapsed during training. It seems like exhaustion. The doctors are checking her over now."

I felt my body tense, wanting to drop everything and run to her, but the coach stopped me before I could move.

"First, you need to change. You've been sweating, and it's cold outside. You can't afford to get sick. Go grab something warm before you head out."

His words were practical, but I could sense the concern underneath. I nodded, my thoughts already with Nabi. Without another word, I jogged toward my room, my teammates' curious glances following me as I left the court.

Inside, I quickly peeled off my drenched jersey, my hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline. I threw on a thick hoodie and a jacket. I couldn't waste time, but I also couldn't show up at the hospital looking like I'd just run off the court.

As I rushed out, the coach was waiting by the door. "It's all set. The car's outside. Take a deep breath, Yuki, she's in good hands."

I nodded again, trying to focus as I stepped out into the cold, heading to the car that would take me to her.

After almost an hour, I finally arrived outside the room where Nabi was resting. I knocked gently on the door before opening it.

Inside, the new guy from the snowboard team was sitting beside her on a chair, holding her hand as she slept. When he heard the door open, he turned to see me, immediately letting go of her hand and standing up to approach me. He quietly slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"It's nothing serious," he said in a low voice. "The doctors said her blood pressure is low, and her heart rate is really slow. She pushed herself way past her limit and fainted. They told her to take a few days off during the holidays and get more rest."

He scratched the back of his neck, clearly feeling guilty. "I noticed she looked pale and exhausted, and I feel like an idiot for not stopping her earlier... She could've seriously hurt herself today." His voice was heavy with regret.

I gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You couldn't have known. It's not your fault. The important thing is that nothing worse happened."

With that, I slipped into the room quietly, trying not to disturb her. I took a seat beside her where Kunitake had been and gently took her hand in mine.

As I sat there holding her hand, a strange feeling settled over me. Normally, when something distracted me from my focus, especially before a competition, I'd feel this intense frustration, like I was being pulled away from what mattered.

But looking at her now, resting and so fragile, that frustration was gone. It was replaced by something else, something heavier.

I hadn't even noticed how bad things had gotten for her. We were together every day, but I missed the signs — the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her body seemed slower, weighed down. I should've seen it. I should've known. I felt guilty for being so absorbed in my own routine, my own world, that I hadn't realized how much she was pushing herself past her limit.

The thought that I needed to be more present for her, that I had to do more than just show up, hit me hard.

She needed me, and not just as someone standing on the sidelines, but really there — aware, supportive. Sitting beside her now, it became clear that she couldn't keep carrying everything alone.

She needed me, and I had to make sure I didn't fail her again.