Tick. Tick. Tick.
I sighed for what must've been the fifth time in ten minutes, gazing blankly at the ceiling.
I was thinking of Yuri - I couldn't keep my mind off him since the last time I'd seen him. Tick. Tick. Tick. The monotonous white noise fit perfectly with the hopeless sense of loss I felt as I laid there, floating away in an emotion not unlike hollowness, while simultaneously enveloped by sorrow. Tick. Tick.
Feeling fuzzy, I rolled over on my side to gaze out the window. The snow had melted months ago, so the scene outside was painted in much different shades than when I'd first seen it. The sky had clouded over. It was starting to rain, and that only provoked more troubling thoughts.
The date was April eleventh. I'd gotten out of the hospital early - Or, rather, my parents had pulled me out before they were supposed to. My condition before getting there hadn't been great - The doctor had to plug an IV in my arm, chalk-full of iron. I had been borderline anemic. But the worldwide competition was coming up soon, and rather than let me rest, my parents had decided that the best thing for me was to get back to practice.
It was a little counterintuitive, in my opinion.
Being free from the confines of a hospital bed, however, didn't free me from the watchful eye of my parents. Even after the cruel display I'd put on at the hospital, it seemed they still didn't trust me. To be fair, I hadn't given them any reason to, what with all of my lying and sneaking around. But at the same time, I really felt sort of trapped here. Every time I'd even considered the possibility of sneaking out to see Yuri, I ended up snuffing it out. You'll only get caught, I'd say to myself. You're leaving soon, anyway. Best not to put salt in the wound.
That didn't mean I wasn't thinking about him, though. And I felt so guilty for thinking of him, because I'd already given myself the "shape up" talk, where I'd convinced myself that my parents knew best and I should just do what they want me to, and I might as well just stop fantasizing about a life I would never have. And I still thought. And thought. And thought.
I'd kissed him. I'd kissed that boy full on the lips. Why did it go by so quickly? Why hadn't I savored it? If I'd known this was going to happen (which I should've), I'd have probably grabbed him by the shirt on tournament day and made out with him in front of everybody. Hell, I'd have done a whole lot more when we were alone... I'd have made him forget his own name.
It wouldn't have helped with the aftermath, though. I knew full well that it would still hurt just as much.
Refusing to let the tears begin to pool, I jerked myself up off the mattress and jumped onto the ground, blinking rapidly. I couldn't let myself cry - Not in front of them. I didn't want to give my parents that sort of power over me - Nor did I want them to think that I was being melodramatic.
The competition's in a week, I reminded myself, looking at my drooping figure in the mirror. Might as well get suited up.
Feeling blue (and annoyed at myself for feeling this way), I pulled on my uniform for the billionth time. I certainly didn't look like a fierce competitor. It didn't matter that I was short and weak-looking - Anybody with a brain cell knows that even the puniest of people could turn out to hold incredible power. No, it was more about the hopeless aura I put out - Droopy, frowning, looking tired and upset, I would hardly make an impression. There was no fighting spirit there; My entire presence must've reeked with the stink of someone who has completely given up.
On the bright side, though, at least I wasn't on the edge of passing out. I'd stood up so quickly, and I could still see to the other side of the room. Yay for me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Snap.
I broke the boards. That was better than the last time I'd attempted my break. First try. It didn't make me feel better.
I went through a set of forms. More force was in that set than had been in all the sets I'd attempted in months - Combined. Those iron supplements really did work some magic on me. Maybe this was how I was supposed to be performing the whole time. It didn't stop me from feeling a little frustrated, though.
I didn't even bother with sparring; In order to do that, I'd have to call one of my parents in, and I didn't really feel like talking to either of them. I'd taken very precise measures to avoid them in the hall; They both seemed overly eager to practice with me, like they wanted to be my support in everything I did that they wanted me to do. Encouragement for me to stay on track.
I really didn't need it, anyway. There wasn't really an alternative, was there?
I sat in the dojang, motionless, for a long time, watching the sky through the small windows in the room. I felt restless, which felt strange for a few minutes and then suddenly began to make sense. For months, I'd had something to look forward to. I was able to relax, knowing that something exciting was always around the corner. Having returned to my old, boring routine, I had suddenly let that sweet life go. My subconscious mind was protesting this change.
Finally, I decided I was in no mood to practice right now. I was sure my parents would get on my ass about it later, but for now, I was done with this. Quietly, I pressed the door open and stepped out, letting it flutter shut behind me.
If there were any benefits to this situation, one had to be that the pantry circumstances had improved tremendously. The doctor, having diagnosed me with a nutritional deficiency, had instructed my parents to buy certain foods that would help me recover. My favorite of these was, by far, the iron-fortified cereal they'd started buying. I poured myself a bowl and crept out into the living room, where Troy was excitedly practicing his fight for the competition.
"Hey, goober," I said, feeling mildly comforted by his cheerful presence. "Working hard, huh?"
Troy spun around, looking startled.
"Huh? Oh, yeah!" He said, throwing a haphazard kick to demonstrate how hardworking he was. "Gabe and Ryan are practicing their parts too, so I have to make sure I'm as ready as they are!"
"Oh, well that's fun," I chuckled, settling onto the couch. "You're doing a choreographed act, then?"
Troy nodded animatedly, eyes wide and excited.
"Mom and Dad told me that was a good way to get noticed in competition," He said, sitting down and frowning thoughtfully. "They also said that's what you used to do a lot when you were little!"
"Oh... Right."
To be honest, I'd completely forgotten about it. I'd done a few choreographed pieces when I was younger, but it was so long ago that I'd sort of blocked it out - Not to mention the fact that I'd hated every second of it.
"I really wish I was as good as you," Troy said, a troubled look coming over his face. "Although, I don't want to hate it as much!"
Eyes wide, I stared at him. Was it really that obvious?
"I- Uh... I don't hate it that much..." I began. Although, it seemed there was really no point hiding it. Besides, he'd already read into me far better than my parents ever had, so he'd probably catch me in the lie anyways. "I mean, no, that's not... Well, anyways, is it really that obvious?"
"You come into class like this!" He said excitedly, jumping up to demonstrate. Face morphing into a demented frown, Troy stumbled towards me like a zombie, groaning once and then flopping to the ground. Then, apparently very proud of his performance, he jumped back up, gazing at me.
"Oh, come on, I'm not really that bad," I laughed, throwing an arm over his shoulder as he sat beside me on the couch. "You're just being dramatic."
"I'm good at being dramatic!" He exclaimed. "Mom and Dad said I could be a really good actor when I grow up!"
"Is that so?" I said, trying to picture Troy up on stage in the future, playing the main hero in a high school play. It wasn't difficult to imagine. "Well, you'd better work hard if you want to be an actor."
"I will!" He said, bouncing up and down restlessly in his seat.
"Well," I said, getting up and disposing of my bowl, with Troy at my heels. "I'm gonna head back to my room now, but I look forward to your performance at the tournament. And seriously," I muttered, crouching down to his level. "If acting is what you want to do, then you should totally follow that dream, okay, kid?"
"Absolutely!" He replied, giving an animated salute. "And you should do whatever you wanna do!"
Momentarily speechless, I gazed down at him. Troy's enthusiasm sort of made me want to cry - How could he believe it would be so simple? How could I let him go on thinking it would be easy for him to just do whatever he wanted with his life?
"We'll see, kid," I said evenly, ruffling his hair and fleeing down the hall to my bedroom.
It would've taken energy I didn't have in order to resist the urge to flop back down on my bed and play Candy Crush for hours on end, so that's exactly what I opted to do. I didn't want to think; Not about my current dilemma, not about what Troy had said, and not about Yuri. So, when I was rudely interrupted by a bombardment of texts only thirty minutes into my sulking, I was understandably upset.
As expected, it was Yuri.
Hey
HEY
Talk to me
You haven't talked to me since the tournament
What's wrong?
Feeling a rush of emotion, I swiped the notifications away in frustration. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? It was hard enough for me to have to push him away, but at least when he wasn't constantly texting me, I didn't have to directly ignore and reject him. But no matter how long I waited, he continued texting.
Please just answer me
We don't have to stop texting just because of what your parents said
Maybe we can meet up sometime without them knowing
I miss you
At some point, it became too much. I tried to channel the pang in my gut into some sort of anger. I didn't do a very good job at it, but at the very least I could pretend to be cold and unyielding and totally pissed off, and not at all feeling hopelessly melancholic about the fact that he cared so much.
You have to stop texting me
(Y/n)!
Thank god
Why'd you ignore my texts
Because I'm not supposed to be talking to you.
You know that
My dad made it pretty clear
Yeah, I get that
I'm not an idiot
But I really didn't think you'd go along with that
So, how about meeting up sometime?
I want to see you :(
You don't get it, do you?
I'M NOT ALLOWED TO TALK TO YOU ANYMORE
And there isn't much I can do in the long run to avoid my parents' influence
So no
I can't meet up with you
I'm really really sorry, but I'm sort of stuck with this
Can't you at least keep texting me?
You're parents don't really have control over that
Clearly...
I really don't think that's a good idea Yuri
You know I'm going to have to go back to my country soon, right?
It's probably better for both of us if we just stop talking
Because I won't get to see you anymore anyways
...
okay
So you can't see me anymore
And you can't text me anymore
So I guess this is your way of breaking up?
I guess so
I'm sorry
At that point, I'd had enough. Feeling a disgustingly intrusive sort of sadness, I tossed my phone aside and buried my face in my hands. I tried my hardest not to cry, taking relaxing breath after relaxing breath in a desperate attempt to stay put together.
In... out. I was never going to see Yuri again.
In... out. I was never going to go to the skating rink again.
In... out. I was going to spend the rest of my life doing something I hate for people who didn't respect me.
In... out.
I would just have to deal with that.
Yeah... so, at that point, deep, rhythmic breathing didn't really help me feel any better.
A tear or two fell, and I decided that the only way to fix this, even temporarily, would be to sleep on it. The sweet release of sleep might not help my situation or make me feel better, but it would, at the very least, provide me with a few peaceful hours during which I didn't have to feel or think anything at all. Heaving a sigh, I rolled off the bed and shut the door, then turned off the light and trudged back to my bed.
My head was about to hit the pillow when my phone buzzed once again. Without even bothering to brace myself, I lifted it and stared at the messages with a blank face.
Can you please just do me a favor and remember to eat dinner tonight?
I guess it's not really my place to say stuff like that anymore
But I want you to keep that sort of stuff in mind since I won't be around to remind you anymore
Anyways, goodnight
I'm sorry
About everything
Just like old times, I thought, nostalgia taking over me as if this had been an ongoing practice for years, and not just some stupid minor plot point that had come about purely because of Yuri's obvious emotional unavailability - Mere months ago, no less. Still pestering me about my health, as if I'd ever listened. I considered his words for a moment, then decided I was too exhausted and socially drained to bother eating dinner.
Yuri had asked me to take care of myself; I'd ignored his advice. I dropped my phone and felt my throat close up, then started to choke on my own tears. He'd given me his advice, and I'd ignored it.
Just like old times.