/ i wasted 25 minutes of my life writing this god damn awful song and sampling fuby sounds realising it fitted perfectly to 120bpm don’t tell me you wouldn’t at least consider buying it and get this furby smash-hit to number 1 lmao.
Some clarifications because last night was a whirlwind and I’ve had more time to process the episode as a whole. I reference this post specifically because there’s things that I want to clear up from yesterday that I was very in the moment about. I think what gets us at times when trying to read deeper into anything from an anime is the fact that it’s a translation. You never get the same feelings as you do when it’s in Japanese. This is if you don’t know Japanese but if you do then I wish I got those same nuances in grammar that you do.
This scene is so important to episode 9. Yuuri’s down in the dumps right now even if he was able to just squeeze into the Grand Prix Final. But Yuuri is where he is because of his ability and he gave two amazing performances at the Cup of China that gave him the second place finish he would need to beat out Mickey. Yuuri wants Viktor to step down as his coach after all of this. To this moment he’s still doesn’t really think that he deserves Viktor. But Yuri comes in out of nowhere and kicks him. He breaks his train of thought. This is the shock that Yuuri needed to find the confidence to ask Viktor “to stay as his coach until he retires”. I don’t think that he intended to do that at all, but he came at just the right time and with his grandpa’s new katsudon pirozhki.
If we can all just please forget the fact that I actually thought Viktor flew back to Russia with a dog that almost died 24 hours ago after swallowing steamed buns then I’d love it. Okay, but you know he would fly back to Russia if necessary.
I want to comment on Viktor’s face again. Yes, this is a man who is very physically and emotionally tired. The moment that he found out that Makkachin would be okay he started to worry about Yuuri. You know he did. This is character growth at its’ finest. This is a man who hadn’t thought about anyone but himself, his skating career, and his dog. There’s nothing wrong with that. We see those bits of Yuuri bleed over into Viktor as their relationship deepens. Viktor is worrying about someone who isn’t himself. You could see the frustration in his expressions from episode 8 when he finds out that Makkachin’s at the vet. He doesn’t want to leave Yuuri but in the end he does because Yuuri tells him that he’ll do the free skate by himself. He’s probably been worried about how Yuuri coped without him on the sidelines because this is the first time in a major competition since he’s become his coach that he hasn’t been there. He knows how it all went. I’m sure he saw the stream. He’s proud of Yuuri, but he understands Yuuri and the comfort that he craves. He needs to see how Yuuri is doing for himself at the train station. He’s deep in thought of the future until Makkachin barks to tell him that Yuuri’s here.
I was torn on this last night but I’m certain now that these two are on the same page. We don’t know what the future holds for these two. Yuuri might have just been outside next to a highway in Russia thinking about retiring after this season, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stop skating here. He could keep going. The show has actually given us indicators that Viktor’s the only one retiring at the end of all this between Yakov, Yuri, and JJ (mostly just saying that Viktor was running from him, but that’s close enough to retiring). So, this request comes from a Yuuri that finally understands Viktor and is professing his love. There’s no hesitations anymore. The build-up to this moment was done phenomenally. It’s a roundabout way of doing things but he does practically propose right here.
The tears that come out of him after this are of happiness. “I wish you’d never retire” is exactly what Yuuri wants to hear. Yuuri’s spent 8 episodes unsure if Viktor would stay with him when all of this is said and done. But he gets that confirmation. Yuuri needs to hear it from Viktor’s own mouth. Viktor is also practically confirming the end of his skating career here because he doesn’t want Yuuri to retire. He’s 27 years old and already stands at the top of the world. He’s been thinking about what he wants to do in the future as Yuuri’s coach. He’ll end his career on a really strong note. Now, he wants to be Yuuri’s coach and his future. They’ll go to grand prix final after grand prix final together for as long as Yuuri is willing to skate competitively. And then after all of that, they’ll be together. I’m really hoping that we get a sweet ending to all of this.
there are two settings. the first is success, a crushing perfection that simmers below the surface, a gritted-teeth force that breaks down more often than it runs. it is relying on panic to wake you up, it is nightmares about numbers, it is being unable to stop shaking when the test comes back, it is empty scores, no flaws found but still feels sore. it is the appearance of self-assurance, top-of-the-class, always-in-yoga. nobody gets into the room when you’re sobbing over your gpa. they only smell the candles and not the burning.
the second is failure. it comes in the wake of the smallest thing. a shrug and “you could have done better” rather than a smile. that’s it. and then it’s time to destroy everything. she frowned at me once, we aren’t really her friend and we must never speak to her again. he didn’t want to get dinner, not only is he not interested but he finds us repulsive. it is realizing you are sixteen minutes late and just skipping class rather than showing up late. it’s refusing to study because you understand nothing. it’s taking something down before someone can rip it down for you. it’s isolating yourself so nothing can hurt you and it’s hurting because you’re isolated. it’s missed calls, never-at-work, always-too-drunk.
i had this friend. loud, vivacious, and brimming with energy and colour. her sun-bright smile drew others to her like moths to flame; and yet she could always pick me out from the crowd effortlessly. i wondered how she did that, why she’d pick me over many.
she was the kind of person you could never look away from for long, but i saw her better from my peripherals. when she lifted her chin, her face would become awash with glowing light; and then she’d laugh about her pale skin, and the ruddy cheeks and dark freckles would appear again, as if they’d momentarily blanked out. when she grew protective, her blue eyes would spark dangerously and burn white; and then she’d blink, and the glint of her glasses would stand in with explanation.
but i saw her best from the back. when she’d run, her fire-bright curls would flare out behind her like wings.
as flighty as she was, she always came back to me. i wondered why.
she told me, once.
one day, before class had started, when i was in the middle of falling asleep in the sunbeam warming my desk, she turned around in her seat to talk to me. she spoke with her whole body, from her waving hands to her bouncing shoulders.
then she petered off, and settled into stillness. watchfulness. despite all the eyes on her, she only saw me.
“hey,” she said. “could you look at me for a sec?”
and when i lifted my head to look at her straight on, she smiled as if she’d found the answer.
“look at that,” she murmured. “your eyes have halos in them too.”