Figure Skating Gallery (2)
"..."
There was plenty I wanted to say, but my fingers stopped.
Why a consecutive loop jump wasn't baseless at all. How meticulously I regulated my own training. And more than anything else—
I know better than anyone.
I understood the terror of injury better than anyone else. Falling, enduring, and eventually retiring broken. So in this life, I had sworn I would never end up that way again.
I was five years old now, but I was no child who simply launched herself into the air. I knew better than anyone how slowly, how calculatingly I moved to carve each technique into my body. I wasn't the one being dragged along by a coach—if anything, I was the one being careful, afraid Yerim might stop me.
But writing all that here… would be meaningless.
The people here didn't know who I was, and they weren't going to try to find out. To them, it was just a kid who looked a little younger than her peers landing a hard jump. That was all there was to it.
I quietly turned off the screen. As the warmth drained from my fingertips, my heart settled with it. I had wanted to speak, but I didn't need to. In the end, there was only one thing for me to do.
Prove it on the ice.
That was the clearest, most certain answer I could give.
Still, though…
Even after I set the smartphone down, the routine sequence I'd just watched rose vividly before my eyes. An arabesque stretched skyward; a landing line sharp yet soft.
From under the covers, I began to extend a hand. I adjusted the angle at the end of my arm, set my wrist. In my mind, step sequences, spin positions, and jump timing flowed past. If I closed my eyes, the sensation returned at once, as if I were sketching the ice itself.
The tension when an edge laid slightly on its side. The weight transfer in the instant the toe pick struck. The brief, sharp balance when a spin locked dead center.
There was no sound, but the sensation was precise. My body was still, yet inside me everything continued.
Tomorrow, maybe I should start the spiral at a slightly lower angle.
Beneath the blanket-wrapped legs, my toes moved quietly. Toe, toe, toe—I tensed my ankles, imagining stepping through the air. A small breath spread at the corner of my mouth buried in the pillow, and an inexplicable tremor bloomed across my chest.
Settle the breath before entering the spin, and right before the jump, press a little harder into the left-foot edge to store the spring.
I was on the edge of sleep, but I was still on the ice. Even at the end of the day, I prepared for tomorrow's ice. Not to show anyone—but to live as myself.
The following week.
I was watching figure skating videos before stepping onto the ice, practicing in my head, when Jin Sehee came a few steps toward me and her eyes went round.
"You… have a phone?"
She bent down as if peering at my cell phone.
"It's real? You didn't have one last time! No way. Let's exchange numbers!"
I hesitated for a moment, but Jin Sehee's eyes sparkled so brightly that I just nodded. She took my phone and freely saved her own number.
"…Sehee Unnie?"
The saved name was Sehee Unnie, with a heart at the end. From her reaction, she didn't seem to be teasing me—maybe it was just her own way of showing closeness.
After that, Jin Sehee spoke as if this were the best news in the world.
"Now I can contact you even on days I don't come here!"
My lips tugged up at that smile for no particular reason. Without a word, I put the phone back in my bag.
Jin Sehee kept talking, still buzzing with excitement.
"But you're amazing for real. Five years old and you have a phone, and your jumps are good too!"
And then—
"But today, I'll show you who's the unnie."
She suddenly threw down a challenge.
"How about a jump contest?"
Jin Sehee crossed her arms and puffed herself up. There was more playfulness than seriousness on her face.
"Let's go at it properly. This time I'm going to win."
I looked at her quietly. A Jin Sehee similar to the one I'd known in my past life, yet different. More proactive, more honest, and sometimes letting her competitive streak run ahead of her.
"What are we competing on?"
"First one to land a double Lutz + double Axel wins. How about that?"
I tilted my head slightly. Sehee put both hands on her hips.
"You landed a double Axel not long ago, and you like combo jumps too."
"Alright."
Then Sehee opened her palm and held it out toward me.
"Winner gets one jelly!"
The jelly she meant was the kind Yerim always brought and shared after practice. I didn't even like them that much, but I said okay.
"No taking it back later!"
"I won't."
Competition always carried pressure, but this much wasn't bad. In Jin Sehee's eyes there was no jealousy or impatience—just a feeling of wanting to skate together.
…
"What are you two doing?"
I turned at the voice to find Yerim at the edge of the rink, hands on her hips, watching us. Jin Sehee immediately shot her hand up.
"Coach! We're going to have a jump contest! Please be the judge!"
Yerim sighed as if she couldn't believe it, then smiled a little.
"…Never mind that—what are you competing on?"
"Double Lutz + double Axel combination! To see who lands it first!"
Hearing that, Yerim seemed to fall into thought for a moment. Both Sehee and I had only just completed our double Axels. Mixing in another double jump for a combination—and with the word "contest" attached—she was clearly worried about a possible injury.
After that brief deliberation, Yerim spoke.
"Then one at a time, and take it slow."
"Yes yes yes! I'm the unnie, so I go first!"
Jin Sehee shouted with spirit, and I quietly nodded. Yerim confirmed both of us were thoroughly warmed up, then began.
"Alright, Sehee—tell me when you're ready."
"Yes, Coach!"
Jin Sehee's lips twitched as she spun once in a circle. Not a hint of tension. If anything, she looked excited.
"Here I go!"
With the shout she pushed off, building speed. Feet gliding over the ice, edges driving hard.
Thup—!
Her rotation wobbled a little in the air, but she landed cleanly enough. That part was fine. The problem was what came next.
The second jump—the double Axel. When she reset her body and pressed into her left foot to step in, Yerim's gaze sharpened slightly. Her eyes were on Jin Sehee, whose axis was wavering a little higher than usual.
"You need to get lower…"
As Yerim muttered under her breath, Jin Sehee jumped as she was. Maybe she'd forced the rotation in the air and lost her balance a little. At the landing, her center collapsed.
"Ah!"
Her toe scraped the ice, her posture rocked hard, and she fell.
"Sehee—Lutz successful. Axel is… too ambiguous even to call under-rotated. Fail."
In figure skating, as long as you rotate in the air, a jump counts as successful even if you fall. But Jin Sehee's jump just now—
Not enough rotations either.
Not 2.5, but closer to 1.5 turning into roughly two—and the landing would have taken deductions in multiple places.
"If I'd just kept the speed, it would've worked… so close."
She pouted, but quickly smiled and turned toward me.
"Your turn!"
A quiet kind of anticipation seeped through her words. I nodded, headed for center ice, took a deep breath, and pushed off. Speed steady, eyes far ahead. Weight loaded behind the right foot, left foot stabbed in sharp.
Thup—!
The spring of the Lutz traveled up my back and through my waist. Two full rotations. I cleaned up my posture in the air, gathered my center, and landed. The edge scraped the ice softly, drawing a curve. No brake, no wobble—I flowed straight into the next move.
Left-foot landing, immediately into the step-in. Transfer the weight, drive the front foot, and jump again.
Axel. A jump taken facing backward—so without fear, trusting myself. And with 2.5 rotations to complete, the speed had to be faster still. Technically and in timing, I flew more precisely than the Lutz just before.
Yerim said nothing while she watched my jumps, then nodded when the landing finished.
"Both clean. Seolhwa wins."
A quiet verdict. On the other side, Jin Sehee yelled, "Whoa!" and came bounding over to stand beside me. Her mouth was pouting, but her eyes still sparkled.
"I lost today. I admit it!"
"On the Axel—get your body lower. And when you take off backward, don't be afraid."
"Whoa, you were watching my form too?"
Because of moments like this, I never quite pushed Jin Sehee away even when she got on my nerves. At such a young age, she didn't just get jealous or envious—she took what she could learn. That always struck me as admirable. It was also why that quality remained in the future, and why we ended up connected.
"Seolhwa did well, and Sehee—you twisted a little at the end, but considering it's a combo jump, you did more than well enough."
Once the contest ended, Yerim made sure to praise both of us.
"If you can do double Axels… both Seolhwa and Sehee could sit for the Level 5 exam."
"Level 5!?"
Jin Sehee was stunned at the words Level 5. From Level 5 on, promotion tests weren't held by each region—they were only conducted under the Skating Union. This was literally the stage where you could be recognized as an official athlete certified by the federation.
…Isn't five a little early for that?