Keeping the Seat Warm

The pressure of late had certainly taken its toll on her. Ayaka found herself in fifth place after the short program. She now stood ready for her call to the ice, hoping her tablet routine had calmed her nerves enough to climb the ranks.

She took deep breaths as she waited in the tunnel. A small delay had forced her to stand back, an unwelcome pause; she did not want to lose what she had just regained. She kept loosening her shoulders, trying to stay warm, trying not to think about anything at all.

The delay may have only been moments, but it was starting to feel like an eternity. All the stress she had faced over the past couple of months was eating away at her focus. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind once more.

“Onee-chan!” rang down into the tunnel.

Ah, Yui is my eternal support, she thought as she took a deep breath. Focus, she had thought lost suddenly reemerged. No matter how bad it was outside, her family and friends would always be a sturdy shelter.

They gave her the go‑ahead, and she sprinted out onto the ice, taking a lap and waving toward her sister, who was surrounded by the entire swim team. Her shelter had grown these past couple of years.

She stopped by Reiko for her last‑minute talk.

“Reiko‑sensei, you got me, and I got this,” Ayaka reassured her coach.

Reiko took her hand. “Never a doubt.” Her eyes told Ayaka everything she needed: that she could do this.

Ayaka glided to the center of the ice, raising her hands over her head in a pose meant to resemble a blooming flower. She let out a tiny snicker no one could hear; she could not help wondering if any of those swimmers even knew what the pose was.

As her flower bloomed, she danced across the ice and then soared like a butterfly escaping its petals. Reiko had come up with those images, little metaphors meant to settle Ayaka’s nerves whenever she thought of them. Proof that her coach understood the psychology of the offbeat skater she guided.

She slid into a triple flip, the landing clean; it felt good. She was steadier in this round. She felt she could push the routine as far as she wanted. Confidence burst through her; this was how it was supposed to be.

Her next jump was a triple lutz–triple toe combination. She had done it a million times before; she would do it again. All doubt was gone. The jumps were tight and explosive. The crowd cheered; they knew she was back in form.

She followed with a triple salchow, then flowed straight into a combination spin. She was completely in control now, her smile shining bright for all to see. Triple loop, flying camel spin. She was back in the zone; her zone.

Next came a triple lutz–double axel–double toe combination, straight into a sequence. Yui’s voice rained down from the stands, feeding the confidence that had clearly sprouted for all to see.

Triple toe–double loop, followed by a solo triple axel. Her program closed with a choreographed sequence into a layback spin. She threw both hands up as the spin ended.

The crowd erupted, knowing they had just witnessed an incredible performance. Ayaka looked toward her reward, but Yui was too busy cheering to remember the teddy bear. Ayaka just smiled; next time.

Ayaka made it back to Reiko, who crushed her with joy once again.

“I got you, and you got it,” Reiko said, her voice bubbling with a bit too much excitement.

Ayaka threw a thumbs‑up toward Yui. Then, for the first time in a long while, she stopped to take a real look at Kaito, his eyes steady, a bouquet of flowers clasped in his hands. Another gift she would have to collect later. She offered him a warm smile and mouthed, I miss you. She followed it up by fixing her imaginary crown.

Once her blade covers were on, she made her way to the scoring area, and Reiko draped a jacket over her shoulders.

She felt strangely off sitting there without her usual teddy bear prize. A few little skaters came by and handed her the ones they had collected, but none of them were Yui’s. She would have to make do.

When the scores came in, they pushed her comfortably into first place, with four skaters still to go. She hugged Reiko for the cameras and waved before heading to the leader’s seat, where the young skater before her congratulated her and stepped aside.

Taking her seat, she could only wait and accept her fate. She had done everything she could to close the gap. That was enough.

Minami Haruka was a steady young skater; if she had a bit more confidence, she might have worried Ayaka even more than Emiri. But she was the Kaito of figure skating; she just forgot to turn her shyness off when she stepped onto the ice.

Even now, as she sat in the scoring seat waiting to see if she had overtaken her, Ayaka could not feel an ounce of pressure from her. There is something warm about her, Ayaka thought. If I were a coach, I would choose her.

The scores came in, and they were not enough to take the seat Ayaka occupied. The two skaters bowed politely to each other before Haruka gave a small wave to the camera and left the stage.

If she could get past the next skater, she would medal, which would all but guarantee her spot in the Olympics for a third time. The problem was that the next skater was Kanae. Her friend was usually strong in big competitions like this, and this year she had even upped her game in the smaller ones.

Kanae’s start was strong, and Ayaka felt her nerves kick in as she watched. The crowd was getting into the routine, and Kanae was clearly feeding off their energy. A medal would secure her Olympic spot as well.

As Kanae flowed across the ice, Ayaka could not help but cheer for her. If her friend made her future uncertain, she could accept that. Kanae pulled off a triple lutz–triple toe combination, but it was marked under review. Ayaka winced, not an issue Kanae normally had.

From where Ayaka sat, it was hard to see what the judges might have flagged. She forced herself to refocus on the routine. Kanae finished with her usual grace, the crowd roaring, Kanae and her coach overjoyed.

The scores came in slowly, slower than they had all night. Ayaka felt it would be close; in her mind, everything depended on that review. When the numbers finally appeared, Kanae did not receive full credit for the jump. The margin was narrow, but Ayaka would medal. Kanae would have to watch the last two skaters from the back.

The two friends hugged, and Ayaka watched sadly as Kanae made her way off the stage.

All the pressure felt like it had lifted from Ayaka; now her only concern was Kanae. That was not something likely to be settled tonight; the next two skaters would have to seriously falter for Kanae to climb into the medals.

Hoshino was delivering one of her best performances of the year, and Saki was still to come. A miracle for Kanae was out of the question. Ayaka pushed the thought aside. Emiri landed a triple axel, the first of her career, and her fans erupted, shouting her name over the cheers.

As Emiri approached the scoring seats, she puffed out her chest at Ayaka for just a moment. Ayaka smiled back, entirely unbothered. The scores came in quickly; Emiri was the new leader, exactly as expected.

Ayaka stood and bowed in congratulations. Emiri sneered, “Thanks for keeping my seat warm.”

Ayaka leaned in and whispered, “I was keeping Saki‑san’s seat warm.”

She slipped off the stage quietly, leaving Emiri to take the leader’s seat with steam practically rising from her ears.

The All Japan had come to an end.

Tanabe Saki – Gold

Hoshino Emiri – Silver

Fujimoto Ayaka – Bronze

Ayaka bowed her head, grateful, steady, and ready for whatever came next.