extemporally (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
extemporally) wrote2010-08-25 07:55 pm
extemporally) wrote2010-08-25 07:55 pm
Entry tags:
fic: conscientious loyalty
conscientious loyalty
Team Toronto gen
400 words
Four drabbles about the split. 4 x 100 words.
i.
Yu-Na hadn’t spoken to her mother in three days. Her mother didn’t seem to notice. She wouldn’t stop talking, but she didn’t seem to require an answer.
“Want some more soup?” Mi-Hee asked her daughter. The TV was on, the sounds loud in the room’s darkness. She was flipping through the pages of the file balanced on her knees. “Eh, I am speaking to you…”
Yu-Na stared unblinkingly at the glare of the screen. She remembered the last conversation she’d had with Brian (Mr Orser, she reminded herself), his face so kind and resigned. She’s your mother, she reminded herself.
ii.
Brian hadn’t wanted to coach Yu-Na in the first place. The first summer she travelled to Toronto, he’d done his best but always intended on refusing when they asked him for more. Back then she had been very young.
“You can’t teach them everything,” David told him, slinging a sympathetic arm around his shoulder.
“I didn’t say I wanted to.”
“She’s still just a kid.” David said. “A lot to deal with, too.”
Brian couldn’t argue with that. Instead he nodded grimly and shrugged off David’s arm, getting up from the bench to get a coffee from the vending machine.
iii.
“I’m going back to Korea,” Min-Jung told Christina. “For good.” Her English had improved lots after just three months in Toronto.
“Oh,” Christina said. She didn’t need to ask why. “Why?”
“I —” Min-Jung was older than her by a year, but Christina had to remind herself of that sometimes. She grimaced, and Christina saw the metal of her braces flash in the sunlight. “Yu-Na — the agency.”
“Is it because of the agency or because she’s your friend?” Christina was a loud American, she could ask these questions.
“Both,” Min-Jung said, surprising the both of them with the strength of her voice.
iv.
Adam wasn’t surprised. You knew things about someone when you trained with them, even before the announcements came. Yu-Na had a skating parent: news at eleven. Thank god his mom had other kids to deal with. He pulled into a space and got out of his car, grabbing his skate bag from the passenger seat.
“Just you and me, huh, kiddo?” Brian said, when Adam entered. He tried to smile, but it wasn’t his usual genial one.
“Yeah.” Adam pulled off his skate guards and straightened up to look his coach in the eye. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Team Toronto gen
400 words
Four drabbles about the split. 4 x 100 words.
i.
Yu-Na hadn’t spoken to her mother in three days. Her mother didn’t seem to notice. She wouldn’t stop talking, but she didn’t seem to require an answer.
“Want some more soup?” Mi-Hee asked her daughter. The TV was on, the sounds loud in the room’s darkness. She was flipping through the pages of the file balanced on her knees. “Eh, I am speaking to you…”
Yu-Na stared unblinkingly at the glare of the screen. She remembered the last conversation she’d had with Brian (Mr Orser, she reminded herself), his face so kind and resigned. She’s your mother, she reminded herself.
ii.
Brian hadn’t wanted to coach Yu-Na in the first place. The first summer she travelled to Toronto, he’d done his best but always intended on refusing when they asked him for more. Back then she had been very young.
“You can’t teach them everything,” David told him, slinging a sympathetic arm around his shoulder.
“I didn’t say I wanted to.”
“She’s still just a kid.” David said. “A lot to deal with, too.”
Brian couldn’t argue with that. Instead he nodded grimly and shrugged off David’s arm, getting up from the bench to get a coffee from the vending machine.
iii.
“I’m going back to Korea,” Min-Jung told Christina. “For good.” Her English had improved lots after just three months in Toronto.
“Oh,” Christina said. She didn’t need to ask why. “Why?”
“I —” Min-Jung was older than her by a year, but Christina had to remind herself of that sometimes. She grimaced, and Christina saw the metal of her braces flash in the sunlight. “Yu-Na — the agency.”
“Is it because of the agency or because she’s your friend?” Christina was a loud American, she could ask these questions.
“Both,” Min-Jung said, surprising the both of them with the strength of her voice.
iv.
Adam wasn’t surprised. You knew things about someone when you trained with them, even before the announcements came. Yu-Na had a skating parent: news at eleven. Thank god his mom had other kids to deal with. He pulled into a space and got out of his car, grabbing his skate bag from the passenger seat.
“Just you and me, huh, kiddo?” Brian said, when Adam entered. He tried to smile, but it wasn’t his usual genial one.
“Yeah.” Adam pulled off his skate guards and straightened up to look his coach in the eye. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
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(I'm still so confused. Brian seems to me to be the perfect coach. When I read that he has Adam and Yu-Na skate once a week purely for fun I fell head over heels. I never would have thought there would be this drama on the horizon!)
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The whole thing is just so heartbreaking. TEAM TORONTO NO.
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♥
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Thank you, bb! ♥
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Thank you, bb.
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This is really wonderful, sweetie, I love it.
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(The whole situation is so awful and confusing, I don't even know what to believe anymore...)
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It really is, isn't it? I woke up and read some more of the articles that popped up in the meantime... and the whole thing is just such a mess. :(
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