"[sad]...It's gone up." In his room at Yu-topia Katsuki, Katsuki Yuuri stared intently at the bathroom scale. The needle pointed 0.6 kilograms higher than yesterday. Remembering the tonkotsu ramen his mother Hiroko had served him last night, he gently touched his stomach through his sweats. (I really shouldn't have ordered that extra noodle refill.) The morning in Hasetsu was cold again today. Outside the window, the wind crossing the Genkai Sea rattled the inn's signboard. From downstairs drifted the sounds of breakfast preparations and the faint, savory scent of soy sauce caramelizing. "[gentle]Yuuri, breakfast. She said it's grilled salmon and chikuzen-ni today." It was Victor's voice. His silver hair still tousled with bedhead, he held a steaming cup of tea. His 180-centimeter frame looked slightly cramped beneath the low lintel of the old inn. Yuuri answered, "Yes, I'll be right there," and discreetly pushed the scale against the wall. When he arrived at the dining area, Alexei Bradov was already there. The Russian junior skater, now on his third day of stay, was piling a large bowl high with white rice. Showing his double canine teeth, he was delighting Hiroko by saying, "Japanese food is just so delicious." Yuuri took his seat and was about to serve himself a second bowl of rice when it happened. "[angry]Hold it right there, Yuri!" Alexei suddenly stood up, pointing his chopsticks sharply at Yuuri. His freckled face was dead serious. "Huh?" "[serious]You ate ramen last night too, didn't you? And now you're going for a second bowl this morning. That's excessive carbohydrate intake. It's absolutely unacceptable for an athlete!" Everyone in the dining room froze. The regular guest, Tanaka-san, stopped mid-slurp of his miso soup and looked up with a "What's this?" while Hiroko nearly dropped her ladle into the pot. "[angry]I-I manage my own weight, thank you!" When Yuuri, uncharacteristically, talked back, Alexei raised his voice even louder. "[angry]I saw you after practice yesterday, getting on the scale and looking all depressed! I know you were sighing, saying 'I got fat again'!" Yuuri's face flushed bright red. The thing he'd been hiding—his weight, the thing he was most sensitive about—had been exposed, of all people, right in front of Victor. Victor, for his part, was watching their exchange with a smile as he flaked his grilled salmon. "[playful]Alexei might be right, Yuuri. Maybe you've been slacking off a little?" Those words poured fuel on the fire. "[angry]Even you, Victor!" "[serious]Victor-sama is correct! You might be close to retirement, but a skater receiving coaching from Victor-sama can't be acting like this!" "Now, now, no fighting. Help yourselves to seconds, there's plenty more." Hiroko intervened, holding the rice container. She was completely missing the point, but thanks to her, Yuuri sulkily reduced his serving to just one bowl. Alexei nodded with an air of self-importance, saying, "That's more like it," while Tanaka-san muttered to himself, "Young folks are so lively, aren't they," as he shoveled down his seafood rice bowl at an unchanged pace. In the end, Yuuri's breakfast consisted only of grilled salmon, chikuzen-ni, and miso soup. His stomach remained unsatisfied, and his spirit was worn down. After practice, Yuuri secretly went to the inn's vending machine and bought three whole boxes of CalorieMate. "[sad]This much is okay, right...?" He murmured to himself, and just as he reached for the first box in the shadow of the vending machine— "[angry]Yuri! You're eating that stuff again!" At the loud voice booming from behind, Yuuri nearly dropped the CalorieMate. Another debate was about to begin. Peace in Hasetsu remained far away today, too. ── Ice Castle Hasetsu. It was ten in the morning when Yuuri stepped onto the rink. Nishigoori Yuuko waved at him from the counter. "Morning, Yuuri-kun. It's cold again today." Her shoulder-length black hair was tied back in its usual single ponytail, and her gentle, drooping eyes were smiling. Beside her were three unfamiliar items: a notebook, a stopwatch, and a smartphone. "[excited]Starting today, I'm going to record Yuri's practice properly!" Alexei spread the items out on a bench at rinkside, gripping a pen. Victor sat at a café seat by the rink, sipping hot cocoa and remarking, "You've got a good eye for observation, Alexei." Yuuri began to skate. First, basic edge work. The hissing sound of blades echoed. "[serious]That three-turn just now—your exit to the outside edge was 0.2 seconds slow." Alexei's voice rang across the rink. He was scribbling something in his notebook. (So annoying.) Ignoring him, Yuuri set up for a quadruple Salchow. He picked up speed and launched. His body spun round and round. But with his concentration disrupted, the landing was messy. "[loud]Quad Salchow, under-rotated on the landing. Recovery took 0.3 seconds! The cause is a slight wobble in your spin axis!" At the shout, which sounded like live sports commentary, Yuuri lost his balance. He somehow avoided a fall, but his spirit was close to breaking. (Please, stop.) Yuuri looked toward Victor at rinkside, seeking help. His coach, silver hair swaying, simply waved with a smile, as if to say, "Do your best." But those blue eyes held not the slightest intention of helping; he was simply enjoying the situation. "[sad]...Abandoned." Yuuri murmured quietly. Inside his heart, frustration with Victor and irritation at himself for still seeking his figure swirled in a tangled mess. "[excited]Alright, what jump are you doing next? I'm recording!" Yuuri let out another sigh. ── Dinnertime. Tonight's menu was seasonal tempura and chawanmushi steamed egg custard. But Alexei was unusually quiet, his freckled face downcast as he quickly said, "Thank you for the meal," and left his seat. "[gentle]Alexei, is that all you're having?" Hiroko called out to him, but Alexei only replied, "Yeah..." before heading upstairs to the Pine Room. A quietness that made his usual boisterousness seem like a lie settled over the dining room. "[playful]I wonder what's wrong. Maybe he's tired." Victor said this while picking at the tempura, but Yuuri understood. That kid had spent the entire day observing, recording, and provoking Yuuri's practice. But all of it was probably a sign that he wanted someone to pay attention to him. Past midnight, the town of Hasetsu was deep in slumber. Having finished his daily jog, Yuuri walked along the path from the coastal promenade back to Yu-topia Katsuki. The winter sea breeze was cold, seeping through even his jersey. On the road with few streetlights, the stars were clearly visible, and his breath rose white in the air. Just then, he spotted a dim light in the distance. It was Ice Castle Hasetsu. A cold, pale light leaked from the rink's windows. No one should be there at this hour. (Could it be...) Stifling his footsteps, Yuuri circled around to the side entrance near the rink. The door was unlocked. Through the slightly open gap, a voice drifted out along with the cold air. "...Empty inside." It was Alexei's voice. In the dark, empty rink, Alexei stood alone on the ice, skating without any music. Only the sound of his skate blades scraping the ice echoed through the silent space. He was tracing Victor's performance. Evgeni's *The Four Seasons*. The program Victor had once performed perfectly. The angle of his hands, the direction of his face—everything was a copy of Victor. "[crying]Empty inside... that's what Victor-sama said... I'm just a copy of Victor-sama, a hollow shell..." Tears overflowed from his blue eyes, tracing down his freckles and falling onto the ice. Alexei set up for a jump. The stance for a quadruple toe loop. But his body was utterly exhausted. The rotation was insufficient. The moment he landed, he crashed onto the ice with a thud. The loud sound shattered the silence. Alexei didn't get up. He sat slumped on the ice, his shoulders trembling. "[crying]I... I really can't do it after all. I can't become like Victor-sama..." Yuuri's chest ached. That was his former self. The night of the Grand Prix Final, when he'd placed last—alone in the bathroom at the Barcelona venue, stifling his sobs. *I really couldn't do it after all.* Back then, he'd cried alone, making sure no one found him, no one knew. That same despair—this child was tasting it now, in exactly the same way. Yuuri couldn't move from the shadow of the door. He could neither call out to him nor walk away. He simply watched in silence as Alexei sobbed. After a while, Alexei roughly wiped his tears with the back of his hand. Kicking the ice with his skate blade, he staggered to his feet. And then, once more, he began to skate from the beginning. Over and over, he repeated the same choreography. Yuuri finally left the place. The cold night wind cooled his burning eyes. On the way back to the inn, Yuuri stopped in front of Victor's room. A faint light leaked into the old wooden hallway. He raised his hand to knock, then stopped. (This is something I have to do.) Not relying on Victor. There were things he had to convey to that child using his own words, his own experience. For the first time, Yuuri resolved to act on his own judgment alone. ── Six o'clock the next morning. The sky was still dim, and the ice of the rink shone pale blue. Alexei was already there. Showing not a trace of last night's tears, he said "Good morning" in his usual loud voice and spread out his notebook. As he put on his skates, Yuuri quietly spoke. "[gentle]Alexei. Want me to teach you about expression?" Alexei's movements stopped dead. "[angry]...Hah? I don't need to be taught by you! I'm Victor-sama's successor!" He immediately fired back with a refusal. But Yuuri didn't back down. "[serious]I saw what happened last night." At those words, Alexei's face instantly turned bright red. His entire body flushed with shame, enough to make his freckles disappear. "[scared]Wha, what... you saw that!? That!? Eavesdropping is the worst!! Go home! I'm going back to Moscow right now!" Alexei hid his face behind his notebook, shouting, his ears turning crimson. Yuuri quietly stepped onto the rink and stood on the ice. "[gentle]Your skating technique is the real deal. That's why it's a waste." Alexei fell silent behind his notebook. Silence flowed through the rink. Amidst only the low hum of the ventilation fan, Alexei slowly lowered the notebook. "[sad]...It's not like I'm being taught. I'm just using it as reference." Averting his gaze, Alexei glided out onto the ice. He bit down on his double canines, refusing to look at Yuuri. But his skating was clearly waiting for Yuuri's instruction. "[gentle]Okay. Then first, let's try translating a single bar of music directly with your body. This is the first practice method Victor taught me." Yuuri began to skate. Expressing sound with his body. "[angry]There's no way I'd understand something that abstract!" Even as he complained, Alexei watched Yuuri's movements with serious eyes and began to try them with his own body. From the corner of the hallway leading to the rink, a single man watched the scene. Silver hair. Clear, blue eyes. It was Victor Nikiforov. His usual airy smile was gone as he gazed intently at the two on the ice. His expression held a complex shadow—something between jealousy and loneliness, hard to define. "[whispers]Victor-san, what's wrong?" Standing beside him, Yuuko peered at Victor with concern. Slowly, Victor plastered his usual gentle smile back onto his face. But his gaze never left the two of them. "[gentle]...It's nothing. I was just thinking, this is getting interesting." Yuuri was conveying something to Alexei without going through him. It was something Victor had taught. But something beyond what Victor had taught was beginning to take shape within Yuuri. Watc