"Anyway guys, remember: anything could happen, but nothing has to. Well, at least qualification should be ... well ... you know what I mean." Alex finished the day's motivational speech before they moved on to get ready for the first qualification of the Four Hills.
After a loud "Heia Norge", their battle cry before each competition, Alex said goodbye to them and left the cabin, and a lively, but rather hectic bustle began. Each of them had different rituals before jumping, which they worked through as though they were on a to-do list. Sometimes athletes were strange beings.
That also ensured that a funny, chaotic-looking, but nevertheless harmonious coexistence arose. Everyone was busy with themselves, because now the real work began. The focus on that one jump, which would hopefully give them a good starting position: a feasible knockout duel.
Since Daniel would jump later than the others, seeing as he was placed much higher in the overall World Cup, he left the container to give his teammates a little space. He would do two or three more imitation exercises instead, and if there was still time, jog a little to keep himself and his joints warm.
Outside in the fresh air, he began to stretch and absorb the tournament feeling that anticipated him. Everywhere, the air crackled with tension and great expectations. As the saying went, you couldn't win the tournament in Oberstdorf, but you could lose it. And this knowledge, the special format, created this specific atmosphere every year during the Four Hills.
This year, for the first time in his career, he was counted among the favorites, in addition to five other jumpers. They all belonged to the world's elite and this feeling, this knowledge, inspired him. He felt like nothing could go wrong. He just had to do his job. Just jump well and he would have a chance. He loved the competition. He was good at it. And he knew the rules of the game.
Daniel came close to the German team, who were warming up with a game of volleyball, and began with some of his stretching exercises. Meanwhile, he had a good look at the noise around him. Stefan Kraft, greeting him, ran past into the Austrians' wax cabin, while the first Kazakh packed his things to slowly make his way up. There was still some time, but as mentioned, everyone had different rituals and for some of them, the slow walk up to the hill was one of them.
As he began to stretch his leg and perform various exercises, he saw how the Slovenians' container door was thrown open. None other than the overall World Cup leader himself stomped out, seemingly absorbed in a conversation with his supervisor. Gesturing wildly, Domen tried to make his counterpart understand something. Obviously Domen's supervisor didn't seem too pleased with his theory, and shook his head. Loudly, he began to explain something.
Daniel had followed the youngster's jumps in the test rounds, which had been characterized by significant difficulties in the jump transition. If he interpreted Domen's gestures correctly, then that was exactly what they were discussing. The Slovenians took one of the rolling boards which Domen was approaching, and began imitating the transition. Spellbound, Daniel kept his eyes on the Slovenian as he switched from the left leg to the right. Through this exercise, you could already see the steep slope of the Slovenian between his imaginary skis. It was as if he could somehow bend his feet. It was absolutely fascinating and graceful, the way Domen seemed to keep his body tension focused on what lay beneath him. He just made it look so easy. Domen gave off unbounded energy. Fire, that-
"I would stop that."
"What?" Daniel turned around, startled. Anders had approached him unnoticed, and began stretching exercises.
"Watching the little Prevc." He nodded towards the person who had magically attracted Daniel's eyes.
"What?!" Daniel repeated mechanically as his head began to spin. Had he just betrayed himself? Was he really so spaced out that he didn't notice? What should he do now? Everyone would know and-
"Well, you're just studying his technique, right?" Confused by his teammate's unusually intense reaction, Anders took his foot off the bench and positioned himself in front of Daniel. With a worried look in his eyes, Anders began to scrutinize Daniel. He looked pale. Somehow distracted. "Are you feeling okay?"
"No... um... I mean... yes, but... I'm fine." Daniel stuttered, his heart racing as if it was fighting for his life.
"Are you sure? You know you can talk to me." Anders looked him straight in the eye and Daniel had to muster all his willpower to withstand it. Somehow, Daniel even managed to twist his mouth to a crooked smile. Okay, it was more like a grimace, but it was the effort that mattered.
"No, er... alright... I just... I mean, how does he do that?" Daniel, rather preoccupied, tried to formulate a sentence composed of reasonably logical thoughts. The fact that he pressed his face against his knee, of course, had absolutely nothing to do with his relief, which anyone could have noticed all too easily.
"I don't know. But it's not as good as it's looked for a long time." Anders frowned at the Slovenians. Domen had just repositioned himself and jumped, agile, full of confidence, into his trainer's arms again. And the Norwegians weren't the only ones watching him curiously. The Germans also occasionally threw very curious glances at the Slovenian, who seemed completely engrossed in his exercises. One thing was absolutely true about Domen Prevc: he was very ambitious.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I mean, it's spectacular and everything, but vulnerable. It's not going to be as good as usual today." Anders shrugged, as if he didn't really know what he meant.
"It's often gone badly in training and then, later in the competition, he's been on top." Daniel reminded him, and he meant every word of it. He had complete confidence in Domen's abilities, though perhaps that wasn't quite appropriate for a rival whom he was attracted to.
"You've seen the same jumps as I have, haven't you?" Anders looked skeptically at the younger Norwegian again. This x-ray vision made Daniel much more nervous again. Did Anders suspect something? Was he using his own words against him? Again, his damn pulse shot up, and he felt the telltale heat spread across his cheeks.
"Yes, but I think he'll surprise us." Daniel forced himself to answer calmly, as he watched
Domen vanish into the container opposite them, much happier now.
Anders thoughtfully followed Daniel's gaze, which seemed sadly lost in the void. Something was up. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing." Daniel replied with a smile. "For real! Don't look at me like that. Worried. Everything is okay "
"No, I think there's something going on with you..."
"No, you're wrong. For real. Maybe I'm a little nervous. Nothing more." Daniel added a little more firmly and swallowed the lump which sat unpleasantly in his throat. He would never be able to tell them. And he hated having to lie to everyone.
Anders watched his teammate closely. Daniel hid his face from him and continued his exercises, which practically forced Daniel to turn away from him. But he had seen the young Norwegian's eyes, and one thing was clear to him: Daniel wasn't good at all. Something was bothering him, and not just since yesterday.
"Hey, do one of you want to join our team?" Richard Freitag came running up to them. "The first ones are on their way to the hill, so-""I'll join in!" Daniel burst out eagerly, even before the German had been able to finish speaking, which earned him astonished looks from all sides.
"Okay... show me what you've got." Richard laughed, throwing the ball to Daniel, which he had been holding before.
Daniel waved to Anders briefly before he followed the German. That had been a lucky rescue at the last second. Anders was really a great friend, but way too attentive. Daniel sensed that Anders hadn't bought any of his ramblings. But before he could face that again, he urgently needed a different tactic. And a little more discipline. Anders probably just had to watch him a little more attentively and he would figure out that one and one don't make three.
"Let's go!" Daniel shouted to the other Germans, breathing in and out for a moment in throwing the ball in the air and hitting it to the other side with all the strength and anger on him and the world. Why did he just have to be what he was?
Infected by Daniel's ambition, the game developed into a real competition quickly. So they played full of concentration for the next few minutes, which helped Daniel to focus and calm down a bit.
"Soon we'll have you!" Andreas Wellinger exclaimed, grinning and shooting the ball directly at Severin.
"In your dreams!" Shouted Severin as he parried the ball masterfully directly in front of the net of the opponents. Markus, who was standing in front of the net and had judged the ball's trajectory, jumped at the last second, but didn't catch it properly and therefore hit it right into the net, which scored Daniel's team another point. Officially, of course, there was no score. Unofficially, of course, there was.
"What did you say? You'll beat us? I don't know why, but I don't see that..." Richard laughed and clapped with Severin and Daniel.
"That was intentional. We don't want to embarrass you by winning big." Markus countered confidently.
So the banter went back and forth for a while, until they were interrupted by a shout. "Severin! Here's someone who wants to wish you luck." Werner Schuster yelled across the square and pointed to his pretty blonde companion, who only had eyes for one man.
Immediately, Severin dropped the ball and ran towards his wife with a wide, happy, over-the-top grin. Totally in love, he pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her.
"That's not really fair." Stephan shook his head.
"Amen to that. He has luck in the game and gets the woman." Andreas said indignantly. "Really outrageous!" Andreas added louder so that it reached Severin, who, instead of breaking apart from his wife, simply lifted his middle finger, while grinning in the kiss. Fascinated, they watched the spectacle in front of them. Daniel saw how happy the two were, how in love they looked when they broke their kiss and looked into each other's eyes.
Longing bubbled up inside him. He realized once again that he was longing for something he would never have. It was better to say goodbye to his dreams sooner than later. Surely it would become easier over time, he thought, and unintentionally blew out a quiet sigh.
"Yeah, they're abnormally happy, aren't they?" Richard elbowed Daniel, misinterpreting his reaction. Nevertheless, Daniel could only agree with him in his current emotional state, if for completely different reasons.
"It's as if they hadn't seen each other for years, not two days." Markus said, watching the two of them incredulously. How could you be so in love after being together for more than five years?
"And if you think that's strange, then you should've seen what Sevi organized for her birthday:" Richard began to tell tales out of school, "Filling their apartment with heart-shaped balloons with pictures of the two of them."
"Including the full package: candles, roses, romantic music and of course, the ring and its proposal." Andreas said, and the enthusiasm in his voice was clearly audible. "What do you think I had to listen to as I told to my girlfriend about this?"Shrugging, Daniel waited curiously for the answer from the German.
"Yes, so Andi," he began to imitate his girlfriend with a high-pitched voice "that's what I call a man who really loves his wife. You should really take a leaf out of his book... blah blah blah." he finished his performance. "I just told her that, because I thought - you see, I shouldn't think so much - well, I thought she'd find it just as mushy as me... I mean Caro likes monster movies and beer?!? How could I have come up with the idea that she's a hopeless romantic at heart?! ""Poor Andi!" Richard patted him mock-sympathetically on the shoulder. In his opinion every woman deserved a little romance.
"Yes, even if he doesn't look like it, our Severin is a true master of romance." Stephan came back to the original topic, and while the two continued to talk about Severin and his wife, Daniel drifted off with his thoughts. He wondered what kind of couple he and Domen would make. He couldn't imagine that they would be like Severin and his Caren. He also couldn't imagine the young Slovenian in a room with heart-shaped balloons without feeling nauseous. He would probably just ask for a pistol, assuming that the point is to shoot them down. All in all, he would probably find it more romantic to cook a can of soup together than to have to endure all the sappy stuff. A small smile spread across Daniel's face as he thought about it and began to imagine Domen dressed up all fancy for a date, but at almost the same moment the smile faded. He would never find out what it'd be like, and he would do well to live in the here and now instead of his silly dreams. He had to keep his distance. He was going to ruin everything he'd built up because of his stupid infatuation with an immature 17-year-old.
"Hey, - Uh, I'm gonna go jogging again." he interrupted the Germans' conversation.
"Yeah, sure. It was a great match." Richard said with a handshake.
"You're always welcome for another match," Severin said, who came back, after he had kissed his wife goodbye once more.
"Yeah and next time, Tande, we'll win the match." Markus threatened with a raised forefinger. His eyes glittered in anticipation of a chance to make his promise come true.
"I'll keep that in mind!" Daniel shouted over his shoulder as he headed purposefully for the path that led across the mountain through a small forest. Here he had his peace and could finally concentrate on the essentials again. He had to pull himself together. It just couldn't go on like that. He couldn't go on with things that just weren't feasible.
Leisurely Daniel jogged around a small bend behind which Noriaki Kasai, who was already on the way back from his jog, appeared. The two athletes greeted each other and each ran on their way.
He had to keep his distance from Domen. It was that simple. At some point his feelings would have to notice that, and then he could live in peace and quiet.
Daniel was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even notice that another runner appeared behind him, approaching him slowly. It didn't take long for the newcomer to be hot on Daniel's heels.
"Slightly lame today, huh?" Nimbly, Domen turned round so he could keep an eye on his interlocutor.
"What did I do to deserve that?" Daniel grumbled softly into his nonexistent beard as he noticed who was running beside him. "Butterprincess." he called Domen, intending to get rid of him as quickly as he had appeared. After all, Daniel couldn't resist looking at his running style with concern. One root and Domen and his head would make a closer acquaintance with the ground than the Slovenian had ever contemplated.
"Slowcoach." Domen answered, immediately wanting to bite off his tongue. That had been the most creative counterattack he'd ever given, the Slovenian diagnosed, annoyed with himself.
"The butter's still heavy in your stomach, eh?", Daniel couldn't resist to goading him on a little further. "But seriously: turn around again. You can't watch that. "
Domens expression darkened a little and took on a strangely determined look. When he just thought of butter, he wanted to crawl right into a vat full of it. And why did everyone want to dictate what he had to do or not do?
"Why? You're the one with the impaired mobility and the built-in root-finding radar." he hinted at their encounter in the forest last night.
"Listen, I'm sure your coach would beg to differ." Daniel tried again, although he would've preferred to leave the Slovenian.
"Too bad that he's not here right now." Never before Daniel had heard something so dripping with irony that it could literally be wrung out.
"That isn't funny! Are you really that keen to mess up the tournament now?" Daniel asked him, upset, and stopped.
"Hey! Don't stop! It isn't funny that way!" Domen stopped too, much to Daniel's relief. It certainly wouldn't be easy to explain Goran why his star was lying in the middle of the forest with a lacerated wound. The Slovenian coach would explode and dispatch both of them.
"Just leave me alone, okay? Do your nonsense somewhere else." Daniel told Domen, before he just kept running. Distance, he reminded himself. This shouldn't be his problem. He shouldn't even waste a thought about that, if you took it precisely.
But before he could finish his thoughts, Domen reappeared at his side. It was harder to get rid of him than a swarm of angry wasps.
"And if I don't disappear? After all, there is uh... let me think... yes, exactly NO other way that I could choose to jog. And your pace is nice. For a lame duck, this isn't bad at all, and I want to save my energy anyway." Domen teased further. He liked teasing the Norwegian. He thought it was almost as good as winning.
"Okay, then what can I do to make you disappear? Should I tell you how great you are? That you'll surely win? What, Domen, would make you leave me in peace?" Daniel wanted to know, and was annoyed that the Slovenian had managed to tempt him so much and to break his patience. And although the day had started off so well, it seemed to be going downhill. And the big question, which as always went unanswered, was: why him? What had he done in a previous life that justified so much torture?
Domen frowned at him from his side. The Slovenian wasn't expecting such outrage from the ever-casual Daniel-André Tande. Domen couldn't shake the feeling that Daniel urgently needed an outlet for his anger, which he had dammed up inside for some reason. Just like him, having felt his own personal hell this morning.
"Race. You and me. To the fork. If you win, then I'll leave." demanded the Prevc offshoot with all his serenity.
"I'll wreck you." was all Daniel said.
Domen grinned. It was time to show the Norwegian who had the upper hand. "We'll see, Grandpa."
Daniel, who had barely noticed the answer, began to pick up his pace without warning, which Domen noticed too late.
"Hey! No! Jump start! That's unfair!" He shouted after the Norwegian, who simply ignored him and began to run doggedly. He had to get rid of the Slovenian. He couldn't continue like this.
The younger man stubbornly locked on his target and struggled to pull closer to the Norwegian's back, inch by inch. He felt the hard ground under his feet, the stinging in his side, but could only thinking of defeating the Norwegian.
Daniel, feeling his opponent breathing down his neck, trying to squeeze the last drops of energy out of himself. This time he didn't want to begrudge the Slovenian the victory. He had already lost in more than one way because of him. Maybe it was time to get something of his normal life back. Domen had said it himself: after that, he would leave him alone. That was exactly what Daniel was aiming for.
For the last time, Domen increased his pace to get past his opponent. Domen took the last bit out of himself, as if he was running for his life and reached the goal only a few milliseconds before Daniel.
Breathing heavily, both dropped to their knees and gasped for air.
"Not bad for your age," Domen gasped generously and euphorically before looking up at Daniel, who was standing there, also with his arms on his knees, looking forward and wondering for the second time that day why he deserved all this. But this time, for whatever reason, with a smile on his face.
"Not bad, for a Butterprincess." Daniel said dryly, and to his surprise, Domen began to laugh. Daniel straightened up, wondering. Maybe the younger one had fallen on his head at some point in the last few days and suffered some damage?
"Not bad, for a slowcoach. Are you better now?" Daniel opened his eyes in surprise. "How-...?"
"It was as plain as the nose on your face. But seriously: good run." Domen praised Daniel patronizingly with a roguish grin and held out his hand to Daniel. It overwhelmed Daniel somehow and for few seconds he was only able to stare at the Slovenian's hand.
As if paralyzed, the Norwegian had no choice but to straighten himself up and grab it. And immediately fell into Domen's eyes, into a moss-green forest floor that innocently returned his gaze. Without any ulterior motive. The world seemed to have stopped spinning for a moment and crackling silence arose between the two of them as they shook hands. And don't solve each other, just sunk in the moment. Each in his own way.
"There you are!"
As though struck by lightning, they jumped apart and, having been caught in the act, faced an annoyed Peter, who looked at them suspiciously. Because Peter noticed their red faces and was sure that he just missed something. What kind of nonsense had his brother done this time, Peter asked himself.
"Hey, yes... just... back. Um... I was... back... on my way, I mean" Domen stammered, running quickly towards his brother, whom he unhesitatingly grabbed by the arm and dragged back without a glance or a word.
Daniel instead, still frozen in the same spot, began to realize the full extent of what he had almost done. At that moment as it seemed to get better. Domen had somehow managed to rid him of his deep-seated rage. But now... was he crazy? He grabbed his hair. He had certainly betrayed that. Probably. It was all over. Maybe. Nobody could be so stupid to not notice how he felt and if Peter hadn't realized it, then certainly Domen. Or not? As fast as he moved away... It couldn't mean anything else. Possibly. Shit!
He had to do something. Somehow just make it all okay again. Finally he had messed it up. Now he had to fix it. Maybe he could have a word with Domen? Explain everything. Ask him to shut up? Shit. In the best, but most unlikely case, he hadn't noticed. But how was he to find out without talking to him about it? Desperately, Daniel buried his face in his hands and pulled at his hair.