Destined

Determination

{Ko's POV}

Today, Brian finally decided for Yuzuru to try his quads. Yuzuru does seem very excited, as he immediately takes off onto the ice.

His cut from last week left an ugly scar on his palm... For the past week, he was so annoyed as he couldn't do many things such as hold chopsticks or even text without opening his wound again. Yes, my friend. The palm is one of the most asshole places to get a cut.

I crane my neck, looking through the glass of the small office I'm in. He takes off. One.. Two.. Three...

He slams onto the ice again.

It's funny how people love figure skating as a sport. There's only one way to learn, and it's to bravely throw yourself up in the air. Every skill you learn probably came with months and years of falling and cuts and bruises. And after you learn all these skills, you may not even be the best. There's never an easy way out.

I get lost in my train of thoughts, and I am alerted by the light taps on my door.

"It can't be those fans again...right?" I mumble, as I swing open the door and face the customer, or fan or whatsoever.

"Good morning," she bows.

She is a middle aged Asian, with loosely tied black hair. Her eyes crinkle as she offers a warm smile. She's dressed in home clothes, and an old jacket. She's Japanese, I can tell from the accent.

I reply in Japanese, and bow too. Father always taught me to be respectful to elders.

Her eyes sparkle in surprise at my use of Japanese. She then introduces herself.

"I'm Yuzu's mother... I apologize for my sloppy appearance. He left something important at home... Could you pass it to him?" She asks, passing me a brown paper bag. I receive it with both hands, as father always told me to. "It's basic courtesy," he often reminded.

The bag is light, surprisingly.

"I'll pass it to him, thank you for coming all the way here." I smile. His mother is such a pleasant woman.

She smiles and bows slightly before exiting the rink.

I walk to the rink side, taking a little peek in the bag.

Perhaps Yuzuru's mother knew that it was something personal for Yuzu, since she taped the opening of the bag.

But I look through the crack from the sides of the bag and see a dark blue thing. It has his name in permanent black sharpie.

As I call for him, telling him of his mother's visit, I feel the object through the paper bag.

It can't be.

He blushes and takes the bag from me politely, stuffing it in Pooh. He thanks me again and goes back to his quads.

That thing in the bag...

It was an inhaler.

He has asthma?

In university, we studied the respiratory system last month. One of the major triggers for asthma was exercise, and cold temperatures.

What the hell is he doing in figure skating?