emmathedilemma

In the intervening months between his success in the Junior World Championships and the beginning of the next Junior Grand Prix, Yuuri was busier than ever. Tanaka had him practicing at the rink every free moment he had, laboriously going over jumps and spins and step sequences until Yuuri’s head spun and his whole body ached. During the rare moments he wasn’t at school or at the rink he was at Minako’s studio, practicing for hours into the night.

From the looks they gave him, Yuuri could tell his family was a little concerned about his all-consuming devotion to his training but to his relief they never pressed the issue. Rationally, he had always known that they had assumed skating was just a hobby for him, something to work hard at and be proud of but ultimately something he would eventually give up in pursuit of more academic and ‘realistic’ goals. But Yuuri knew in his heart that skating was his passion. Skating was what he wanted to do, all he ever wanted to do, for the rest of his life.

Perfection would only come with practice and so he practiced, pushing aside all other pursuits in favour of the rink. Eventually, he knew, his family would come to understand that this was the final path he had chosen, that after winning a medal he wasn’t simple going to step down and move on to something else. But for the moment he was content to have their support if not their understanding and his mother’s home cooked food at the end of the day was sometimes the only thing that could keep him motivated to finish the strenuous hours of practice.

He loved his family with all his heart and he could only hope that one day they would fully understand just how much skating meant to him.

The only person who seemed to really get it was Yuko. Without fail she still met him down at the ice rink almost every day, although now she worked there part time for extra income for her family. In her free time when she wasn’t working or watching Yuuri practice she was hanging out with Takeshi, one of the older skaters who’d used to tease Yuuri when he was younger.

Initially Yuuri had been a little hurt by the association when Yuko had first told him about the other boy during Yuuri’s stint away for the World Championships but to his surprise, once he had finally arrived back to Hasetsu, Takeshi had clapped him on the back and congratulated him on his medal, making Yuuri promise to show him a few of his moves sometime. It seemed that during the time Yuuri had spent away Takeshi had finally begun to grow up and Yuuri’s feelings for the older boy gradually changed from dislike into a grudging friendship.

Much of his free time was spent with Yuko, and Takeshi by proxy, either on the rink or off it. Yuko supported his decision to continue skating as a career wholeheartedly, even sneaking him a copy of the keys to Ice Castle so he could practice after hours. Of all his practice sessions, those were the most precious to him. The times when he could skating in silence during the peace of the night with no-one there to judge him when he failed.

Yuko had also been trying to help him master his quads, something Tanaka had decreed he didn’t need to win gold but grudgingly agreed to instruct him in anyway. The first quad he was learning was the quadruple toe loop but try as he might, Yuuri still couldn’t quite seem to get it. Despite being young and fit, the power and strength needed for the four rotations was still just slightly out of his grasp as his child’s body refused to mature and put on the height and muscle he knew it one day would. On the rare occasions he did achieve the required rotations he could never make the landing, the effort needed exhausting him and causing his legs to buckle under him when he hit the ice.

Yuko was always there to encourage him, to urge him to get back up and try again. Studiously she looked him up various videos and articles online to try and help him improve his technique but so far nothing had worked. It frustrated Yuuri, ate away at him in the dead of night. At this point in his career Viktor had been able to perform a quad flip in competitions and Yuuri couldn’t even manage a quad toe loop. Tanaka tried to reassure him by pointing out that many junior gold medallists had won before without a single quad in any of their routines but it did little to placate his frustrations.

Sometimes during the night, when his exhaustion wore right down to his bones after a hard day of training, Yuuri would gaze up at the poster he still had pinned to his wall. Almost three years had passed since he had first been given it but the colours still remained as bright as ever, the looping Russian cursive of the signature untouched by the passage of time. Yuuri would look up at the poster and remember. And the next day he would get up and practice harder than ever.   

 

 

 

 

 

Yuuri’s second Junior Grand Prix got off to a good start. He did well in the qualifying competitions, bolstered in the second by his family cheering him on from the stands. In a stoke of good luck the competition he had been assigned to was held in Japan which meant his family had been able to come and watch him live. Hearing their cheers from the stands had boosted his confidence immensely and Vicchan’s enthusiastic good luck cuddling had sent him out onto the ice with a wide grin on his face.

Having his family and his dog there watching him succeed filled him with a warm contentment and his mother’s arms around his neck and Vicchan’s sloppy wet tongue on his face was a better feeling than even the heavy weight of the medal around his neck.

Just like the previous year, Yuuri passed the qualifying competitions and moved on to the final. Briefly he spent a short period of time back in Hasetsu, the lull in the competitions luckily coinciding with his fifteenth birthday. For the occasion his parents planned a surprise party, just a small gathering with themselves, Mari, Minako and Takeshi and a few assorted family friends. His mother made her famous Katsudon which Yuuri practically inhaled, for once not caring about how unhealthy the food was or how he had to watch what he ate before a big competition. It was his birthday, he was surrounded by people who loved him and he didn’t need to worry tonight.

After the party had finally quietened down and Yuuri had returned to his room for the night, Vicchan sleeping peacefully beside him, Yuuri found he couldn’t sleep. Pressure for the final was great and even though he had managed to ignore it for the day, in the quiet of the night-time it all came rushing back. At last year’s event he hadn’t even placed which meant this time he had to or his dreams of continuing skating professionally in the senior division might fall through before they had even begun.

In the dark of the night, the faint moonlight lit a pale streak that danced across the room and illuminated the icy eyes that stared down at him from high up on his walls, the same eyes that looked at him every night when he slept here and the same eyes that sometimes floated, phantom-like, through his dreams. At the time, the Viktor on the poster had seemed so old and mature to Yuuri’s childlike gaze but now he looked very young, his face still soft and round despite the cold piercing look of his gaze and his body still slim shouldered and supple.

Viktor nowadays looked very different. At eighteen, nineteen that December Yuuri reminded himself, Viktor’s body had matured fully, with his face losing all traces of its childhood innocence. His chest and shoulders had filled out considerably and he had shot up in height, not awkward and gangly in the way of most teenage boys but gracefully. None of his movements had been hindered by the changes in his body as far as Yuuri could tell but his skating style was subtly different to compensate.

Most strikingly, after the World Championships earlier that year, Viktor had cut off the long hair that had been his trademark for so long. In sharp contrast the silver locks now were shaved close to the nape of his neck, a few stray strands brushing across his eye when he moved. Gossip articles had speculated many times over the reason for the change but most seemed to agree that the new look suited the young skater. Yuuri couldn’t argue with them although privately he did miss the long hair - although he would never admit that fact out loud.

Viktor was older now and so was Yuuri. The boy in the poster that still stared down at him was fifteen, the same age Yuuri was now. Viktor had made history just before his sixteenth birthday in the Junior Grand Prix Final where he broke the world record for the highest combined Junior score in history and now it was Yuuri’s turn.

He didn’t know whether that elated or terrified him. All he knew was that if he wanted to face Viktor as a fellow competitor someday he had to succeed in the current season. Otherwise it would all have been for nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

In the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri did much better than the previous year. Tanaka cheered him on furiously during his short program where he skated with a dogged determination, refusing to fall prey to the nerves that had caught him out before. He finished with a considerably higher score which placed him near the top of the leader board much to both of their delight.

In his free program the next day the nerves returned. Being high on the leader board in the Final added on a pressure he wasn’t used to to perform again well and while Yuuri refused to allow himself to be overcome with the fear that had ruined him the year previously the nerves were still very present.

During the skating he performed well, his moves tight and precise but each of the skaters before him had all performed at least one quad in their program and Yuuri was filled with the fear that his own technical score wouldn’t be high enough to compare. Presentation was always where he gained the majority of his marks but most skaters focused on their technical scores, packing their routines full of as many advanced jumps as they could manage.

As he prepared for a triple toe loop Yuuri changed his mind at the last moment, determined to go for a quad. Digging his toe pick into the ice he threw himself into the air but even before he landed he knew it wasn’t enough. He had just barely managed to fit in the required rotations but his technique wasn’t good enough to land the jump properly and he fumbled as soon as his foot touched the ice, hitting the cold surface with his knees before springing back up to continue the routine, desperate not to lose time with the music.

The mistake wasn’t a fatal one. Technically he had fit in the required rotations for the jump to count as a quad but the botched landing lost him marks he couldn’t afford to lose and dragged his overall score down. His free skate and short program were stronger this year than last and Yuuri still placed comfortably in third place, not running far behind the silver medallist.

It wasn’t good enough.

Bronze might have been acceptable last year but Yuuri was furious with himself as the ceremony drew to a close. Viktor had stood where he had now three years ago with a gold medal around his neck and a world record under his belt. A bronze medal just couldn’t compare.

Tanaka tried to console Yuuri after the ceremony was over but Yuuri brushed him off, still angry with himself. If he hadn’t tried that stupid quad toe loop it wouldn’t have thrown his whole performance off and he might have been standing at the top of the podium a few minutes before.

He vowed not to make the same mistake again.

 

 

 

 

 

Three months, one short program and countless hours of exhausting training later, Yuuri stood on the ice at the World Championships in preparation for his free skate, heart racing so fast it drowned out even the thunderous noise of the crowds.

Thankfully, his short program had gone well the day before, placing him in second place on the leader board. Unlike in the Grand Prix, this time Yuuri had focused all of his effort into his presentation rather than his technical score. High difficulty jumps would score him points but failed ones would lose him much more than he would gain. His true talent lay in the emotion of his skating, his interpretation of the music, the beauty of the movements – not their difficulty. Over the past three months he had worked with Tanaka to create a program that would maximise that.

The theme he had chosen for the World Championships was Victory, a bold move and something which the announcers hadn’t failed to comment on. Yuuri knew himself that it was a dangerous gamble. If he lost now it would be more than humiliating and it could break his career. But he needed this. He needed to believe he could do it and this program was the way to achieve that.

The music he was skating to was chosen especially to fit into the story he wanted to tell. It started off slow and simple, a few rich piano chords that sounded slightly dark and melancholy. Yuuri skated the first few moves with the same slow deliberate movements to match. This was the part of the program that represented when his desire to win was just that, a desire, an impossible dream.

Slowly the music began to build, gradually getting faster and louder and Yuuri skated with it, movements speeding up, passion filling every step. This was the point in the story that he had begun competing, where he could start to make his desires a reality. Where he was just now, standing on the ice on the cusp of victory with it so close but still just slightly out of his grasp. But not for long.

In a burst of sound the music reached it crescendo just as Yuuri landed his combination jump flawlessly to thunderous applause from the audience. In his mind’s eye he could see the scene before him, the story he was weaving with the music and his body. This was the part of the tale he had not yet reached, the part that was still to come.

The music soared in triumphant fanfare and Yuuri soared with it. Here was where he would be, where the story would one day take him. This was the moment he would beat Viktor. The picture was so clear he could see it in front of him, superimposed over the expectant faces of the audience. Himself, standing on the podium with a gold medal strung triumphantly around his neck. Viktor with a shocked look on his face, staring from far below him. Victory in its finest.

That was the story he was telling with his program. That was the story that he would make a reality.

The triumphant notes of the music ended abruptly and the frantic vigour Yuuri had been skating with ended with them as the crescendo transformed back into the same haunting piano chords that had begun the music. Here was where the brilliant vision of the future transformed back into the present. To himself as he was now, not a winner yet but determined to become one, victory on his mind and in his heart. It was the story of his skating, his desires, his ambitions all rolled into one and he had skated the program with more passion that he had ever skated before.

As the last few notes died away he finally came to rest, positioned in the centre of the rink with sweat pouring down his face and plastering his hair to his scalp. Sound suddenly hit his ears full blast as he was shaken out of his own mind, the audience’s screaming and cheering hitting him like a tidal wave. The force of it nearly knocked him to his knees and he looked up, bewildered. Everyone was on their feet, all eyes were fixed on him. The announcer was yelling over the speakers, calling it the performance of a lifetime.

Yuuri could barely take it all in. He had locked himself into his own head for the performance, focusing on nothing but the story he wanted to tell. The sudden jerk back to reality was a shock and he could barely comprehend the praise that was being flung his way.

He left the rink a little shakily and Tanaka was there to greet him. He clapped Yuuri on the back and Yuuri was stunned to see the normally stern man was full out grinning at his student.

“Well done Yuuri.” Tanaka yelled over the noise of the crowd. “I don’t know what you were thinking about out there but whatever it was, it just won you a gold medal.”

 

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t until the official scores were announced and the final skater had skated his piece that Tanaka’s statement could be confirmed but when the time came there was no dispute.

Yuuri had won gold.

Stepping up onto the podium felt like a waking dream. Cold metal was draped around his neck, heavy and solid and real and Yuuri couldn’t help the awed expression on his face when he touched it, the gleaming gold winking in the light of thousands of cameras.

Despite all his hopes, all his dreams, he could barely believe he had actually done it. He had finally won a gold medal. He was the Junior World Champion and it felt like his heart was going to burst from happiness.

 

 

 

 

 

After the ceremony was over and Yuuri and Tanaka were waiting in the area reserved exclusively for skaters and people with VIP passes, something seemed to catch Tanaka’s eye. With an uncharacteristic smile the man waved over two distant figures who were crossing the other side of the room. Without his glasses on Yuuri could barely make out their features but he could see the blurry outlines of a tall, well built man with long greying brown hair tied back in a long tail behind his head. Beside him was a small boy with dark skin and dark hair, bounding along excitedly in the wake of the older man.

“Celestino.” Tanaka called out as the two made their way over. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here.”

“Hiroki!” The man, Celestino, replied sounding pleased. “I had heard someone had finally dragged you out of retirement and after that performance I can see why you agreed.” He gave Yuuri a smile and a nod and Yuuri ducked his head, embarrassed under the praise.

“This is Celestino Cialdini, an old associate of mine from my professional coaching days.” Tanaka told Yuuri who gave the older man a short bow of greeting but refrained from speaking. His English had vastly improved, with Tanaka insisting he had to become fluent if he ever wanted to skate professionally in the senior division, but he still hadn’t had a huge amount of practice speaking it with non-Japanese people and he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of one of his coach’s old friends.

“And this is my newest skater Phichit Chulanont.” Celestino added, motioning to the boy beside him who gave Yuuri a cheerful wave. “He’ll be making his debut as a Junior next season so he’s coming to Detroit to my skating club to train with me this year.”

“You were amazing out there!” The dark-haired boy – Phichit - told Yuuri with an excited grin. “I can’t wait to see you skate in the senior division.”

Blushing slightly under the enthusiastic and completely sincere praise Yuuri stuttered out an awkward “Thank you” and hesitantly returned the smile the other boy had given him.

“You should come and join me in Detroit Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed, looking up expectantly at Celestino who smiled indulgently back at him. “We could train together.”

“Now now Phichit, Yuuri has his own coach.” Celestino chastened lightly, although his tone was playful.

“Although,” He turned back to Yuuri, face contemplative.  “If you were ever to consider it, I would be happy to take you on. I run a skating club in Detroit to train skaters for both the Junior and Senior divisions. We have a good education program and close ties to the local university so you have the option to complete a degree with a full scholarship if you continue skating in championships for the club. Usually you would have to go through an interview process and several skating trials but, well, clearly you’ve already proven you’re exactly the kind of person we need.”

“Come Yuuri!” Phichit pleaded, before whipping out a phone and snapping a quick picture of them together. Yuuri was almost positive his face was frozen in a rather shocked expression but it didn’t deter the younger boy. He waved at Yuuri enthusiastically as he and Celestino walked away, leaving Yuuri alone with Tanaka again.

Yuuri turned to Tanaka with a worried expression, opening his mouth to insist he wasn’t considering abandoning his coach as soon as a better offer came along but Tanaka waved him down, his expression unusually serious.

“Don’t dismiss the offer so easily Yuuri.” Tanaka chastened him and Yuuri snapped his mouth shut with a sharp click, eyes widening at the unexpected words. “I’m an old man. I retired to Hasetsu for a quiet life, to teach a few children to skate and live by the sea. Of course when I met you I could hardly turn down your requests for more advanced coaching and I’m very proud of how far you’ve come but I can’t remain your coach forever. Now that you’ve won a world title there will be many better coaches than me more than happy to take you on. Celestino has my personal recommendation.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to protest, to exclaim that Tanaka was a great coach and he couldn’t imagine training with anyone else but Tanaka waved him down again before he could speak.

“Just think about it Yuuri.” He said, his tone soft and placating. “I’ve taught you everything I can and if you truly are serious about making your senior debut in the Grand Prix final next season you will need a younger coach with more experience coaching medallists than me. Celestino’s offer is good. You can’t stay is Hasetsu forever if you want to be a champion. Just think about it ok?”

Yuuri opened his mouth for a third time to speak but closed it again before any words came out, not quite sure what to say. Tanaka had been teaching him at Ice Castle since he was young, had agreed to come out of retirement for a few years to coach when Yuuri had begun to skate internationally. But he was right. The senior division was a whole new level of skating and Yuuri would have to make sacrifices if he wanted to join that world for good.

But he loved his family. He loved Hasetsu in all its sleepy small town glory. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to leave all that behind to go and train in a strange foreign country where everything would be different and everyone he had come to rely on would be worlds away.

He didn’t know what to do.

 

 

 

 

 

Hours later Yuuri found himself hidden in an out of the way bathroom just off one of the main corridors in the stadium, seated on the closed lid of one of the toilets and trying desperately to decide what to do. For the last few hours he had been running the options in his head over and over again but the choice seemed just as impossible as it had when it had first been presented to him.

Was he really ready to give up everything he knew just for a better chance at gold?

Sighing in frustration Yuuri stood up and pushed open the door to the cubicle, resolving to think about the problem on another day when his head was clearer and he could debate the options with an unbiased mind. So caught up in his own thoughts, he barely registered the soft swish of the opening door and proceeded to walk right into the man who had just entered from the other side.

Stumbling back from the body he had just walked into Yuuri frantically adjusted his glasses back onto his nose where they had been knocked crooked and stammered out a panicked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see…”

Gradually the words trailed off as Yuuri raised his eyes from the broad chest his eyes were level with, covered by a white skating jacked emblazoned with the letters RU in blazing red, to the silver hair shining softly in the dull light of the bathroom and the handsome features beneath it.

Viktor Nikiforov was standing in front of him, looking faintly shocked at the sudden appearance of a small Japanese boy who had just walked straight into him and proceeded to make a fool out of himself with his stuttering apologies. The Russian’s cheeks were a little flushed and there was a slight hitch to his breath as though he had been running just moments previously. If Yuuri had to guess he would assume Viktor had been running from the paparazzi that were still swarming the halls of the stadium. Since his senior debut, Viktor’s popularity had only grown and press and fans alike were clamouring to get a glimpse of the teenager at every event he attended.

Regardless of why he was there, the unfortunate truth of the circumstances was Yuuri was now trapped in a bathroom with Viktor Nikiforov blocking the only exit. Ever since their fateful first meeting Yuuri had been rehearsing in his mind exactly what he was going to say to Viktor when they finally met again. How he would gloat about his triumph over the other boy, how he would remined the other skater of how he dismissed Yuuri when they met and ask him how it felt to be so wrong, to be bested by the little piggy he told that he couldn’t skate.

Unfortunately, all his wild fantasy meetings had relied on one rather crucial fact and that fact was he had only intended to approach Viktor in person once he had beaten Viktor to a gold medal. Running into him early was the worst thing that could possibly happen to Yuuri.

He had won a gold medal yes but it was only in the Junior division. Viktor himself had done that and much, much more. The Russian skater probably barely even knew who he was and none of the fantastical scenarios he had been dreaming up for the past three years even remotely applied to the situation at hand. He didn’t know what to say or what to do. After resenting Viktor for so many years Yuuri had though he would have a lot to say but when confronted by the man in person the moment dragged out longer and longer into an unbearably awkward silence and Yuuri continued to fail to complete his sentence, the words of anger directed at the other boy sticking in his throat.

After a few seconds when it finally became clear that Yuuri was unlikely to speak again Viktor laughed a little awkwardly and took a step back, eyes fixed intently on Yuuri’s face.

“You’re the junior gold medallist aren’t you? Yuuri Katsuki?” He asked, accent heavy on his tongue.

Yuuri blinked a little, surprise colouring his features. Viktor knew his name? That was unexpected to say the least.

Although in a way it made sense, Yuuri was a gold medallist after all no matter what division that medal came from and more importantly, he had made it public he planned to make his senior debut in the Grand Prix series next season. It made sense that Viktor would have scoped out potential competitors, no matter how new they may be. He had titles to defend after all.

Hesitantly Yuuri nodded, still reluctant to speak and unsure what he would say if he did regardless.

After waiting a few seconds and gauging that that would be the extent of Yuuri’s response, Viktor ran his fingers through his hair in what Yuuri could almost believe was a nervous gesture, looking away briefly before turning back with a smile on his face.

“I saw your free skate today. It was a good performance and your choice of theme was very bold. You won without quads as well which was impressive since most skaters in your age bracket can already perform them in competition.”

Yuuri bristled at the dig at his quads, the loss from the Grand Prix still burning like a brand of shame at the forefront of his mind. Of course Viktor would pick that particular failure to taunt him with. Perfect Viktor Nikiforov had been performing quads in competition for years, well before he was Yuuri’s age. His inability to perform quads was just another fault, another thing for Viktor to pick at to prove he would never see Yuuri as a fellow competitor, as a proper skater.

“I saw your performance at the last Grand Prix,” Viktor continued, seemingly oblivious to Yuuri’s inner anger that was boiling away just below the surface. “Your balance was off on the landing to your quad toe loop, it’s why you fell. You need to work on finding your centre during jumps if you’re going to compete in the senior division.”

Yuuri seethed internally, all his years of anger at Viktor suddenly rushing back in an overwhelming wave of resentment. Of course Viktor only wanted to criticise him when they finally did meet again. Leopards couldn’t change their spots and Viktor Nikiforov certainly could never stop being an arrogant, condescending arse, no matter how many years had passed between their meetings. He would never see Yuuri as a good ice skater, as a fellow competitor, as a real challenge for the gold.  He was still just a stupid fat kid who couldn’t skate and needed advice from the great Viktor Nikiforov if he ever wanted to so much as step onto an ice rink.

‘Well screw him’, Yuuri though with rage still bitter at the back of his throat as he choked back the words he wanted to yell at the other boy, Japanese curses that he couldn’t adequately translate into English to convey the true depth of his feeling. ‘He may not see me as a competitor now but one day he will. On day he’ll regret not taking me seriously. One day I’m going to beat him in front of the whole world when it matters most and when he looks at me standing above him on the podium I’m going to remind him of everything he’s said to me  and he’s going to see exactly how wrong he was.’

With a glare directed at the older boy Yuuri pushed past him roughly and barged out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him as loudly as he could and missing the bewildered expression that crossed the other skater’s face as he left. If he had been able to he would have stayed and told Viktor exactly what he could do with his stupid patronising advice but angry tears had already begun to build up in the corners of his eyes and if one thing was certain it was that Yuuri would never allow Viktor to see him cry. Not ever.

He was going to beat Viktor someday. He was going to do it no matter the cost. Yuuri promised himself that.

 

 

 

 

 

A few days later, Yuuri and Tanaka flew back to Hasetsu where Yuuri sat down with his family and had a long discussion that lasted well into the night. His mother had teared up when he had brought up the subject but in the end they had all agreed it was what was best for him. Arrangements had been made swiftly following the decision and less than a month after he returned to Japan Yuuri found himself saying tearful goodbyes to his family, to Vicchan, to Yuko and Takeshi and Minako and Tanaka.

Less than a month after returning to Japan, Yuuri stepped onto a plane to Detroit and tried desperately not to look back.

 

 

 

 

Rising Japanese Star Skater Katsuki Yuuri to Make Senior Debut in Upcoming Grand Prix Series

By Lauren Munro

Japanese figure skater Yuuri Katsuki, or Katsuki Yuuri as he is known in his home country of Japan, wowed the skating world last Junior World Championships with a truly spectacular performance which has had skating fans taking interest from all around the globe. The fifteen year old performed a personal best during a beautiful free skate that had the audience watching with their hearts in their throats and won him a gold medal and the title of Junior World Champion. Some in the figure skating community have already begun to compare Katsuki to Russian skater Viktor Nikiforov who still holds the title as the most successful Junior skater in history. While Katsuki may not quite live up to Nikiforov’s impressive legacy, his own achievements in the figure skating world to date are not to be easily dismissed.

Katsuki began his career in local competitions in Japan, working his way up to competing at National level where he began to gain public interest with his passionate skating and emotive footwork. Once he had passed the age restriction set on international junior skating he made his junior debut at the Junior Grand Prix last season where he defied expectations and made it into the final although unfortunately not making it onto the podium. From there he proceeded to win a bronze at the Junior World Championships which is where he began to garner international interest.

Following his success in the Junior World Championships Katsuki went on to win a bronze medal in the most recent Junior Grand Prix before proceeding to step up his game for the Junior World Championships where he won his first gold medal. His performance in the Free Skate was particularly notable, his bold choice of theme, enrapturing music and flawless skating adding up to create a performance not easily forgotten.

Katsuki, who is notorious for losing marks on his technical score due to mistakes in his jumps but reclaiming the marks lost with his masterful presentation scores, created his winning free skate program around perfect presentation rather than opting for trying to gain technical marks with high difficulty jumps like most skaters his age. An impressive feat and something that has be lauded as a return to the true artistry of figure skating. It does beg the question however of whether Katsuki, who has yet to land a quad in competition, will be able to compete with the older and more experienced skaters technically when he moves into the Senior division next season.

Katsuki was born in a small coastal town of Japan named Hasetsu where his family run one of the last operating hot springs. He trained at the local ice rink and was formally coached by a retired local instructor for his two years in the Junior division. After attaining the title of World Champion in the latest season he signed on with coach Celestino Cialdini and moved to a training facility in Detroit to train for his upcoming senior debut.

While the critics are still dubious as to whether Katsuki will be able to maintain his winning streak in the highly competitive arena of senior figure skating next season, it is clear he is a rising star with a bright future ahead of him. He is undoubtedly a skater to keep an eye on and it is obvious to everyone who sees him perform that he will go far in the skating world.

Those of us at the paper would simple wish him good luck and know that we will be watching his senior debut with great interest. Katsuki is the first Junior skater since Nikiforov joined the Senior division to cause quite such a stir and having the two skate in the same division will undoubtedly make for an interesting upcoming season.