Mewagi Mizuno stood from her seat to join the lone judge who was clapping, breaking the silence of the still population of the stadium. Soon, the entire crowd joined them to give Ami, her own daughter, a standing ovation. In Mewagi-san’s heart, held quiet respect for her daughter, who had grown up so quickly and so strongly during these two days. Ami had risen up to the challenge of what lay before her and conquered it, there was nothing more that she, as a mother, could want from her child. Ami had triumphed through every single trial that had been before her, even when her father had left.
    Mewagi remembered when Ami had put on a brave face when she heard that her father had left, and had been there to comfort her back. Even as a professional, learned woman, she had not been able to handle the shock, and required Ami to sit with her helping her absorb the sudden overload of information. Now, Ami was using the same cool and level headedness which had always been her character, reaching deep within her to find a cure to the heartache.
    She could see, above the heads of the rest of the audience, Ami’s face clearly, her tear stained face from the earlier performance was replaced by that of utmost happiness. Almost as though the whole business was behind them, Ami had yet put on a brave face when it counted most. She was surprised to feel a hand clutch onto her wrist, and she turned, she found Mamoru had leant close to her, so close that she could almost feel his breath as he whispered, “her therapy is working wonders.”
    “Yes it is. You seem to know her more than I do.”
    “Go to her. If you hurry, you should be able to get to the sides before she leaves the rink. This is a moment to be shared together.”
    Dr. Mewagi Mizuno nodded and smiled, then quickly hurried off to her destination. She did not see Mamoru trying to barricade and persuade the rest of the girls from following her to congratulate Ami’s achievement, nor did she see Usagi throwing a tantrum at her boyfriend because she wasn’t allowed to do as she pleased. But even without any of that, deep inside her heart, she thanked his kindness.

    “News desk? We’re on our way down to see her. Yes, we’re running like crazy, and that thing you call a man, the one holding the camera is a complete klutz, he’s dropping equipment everywhere, so if we don’t get the front row takes (i.e. photo shots), go fire him.”
    In reality, the camera man was not really the fault, it was his own fault. After having been a professional sports journalist for so many years, he should have known better than to dismiss Ami Mizuno’s chances at winning, even when the chances were so slim. It was always the thing to do, when the first ten get off the ice, you go and interview them. But he had completely overlooked her chances and forgot what a news item she was. The camera man was young and had no status, it the director reprimanded him, he could say nothing. It was always good to have someone get the blame.

    Amongst all the congratulatory people, Ami smiled and curtseyed like a prim and proper lady, she curtseyed because the Prince of Japan was before her, delivering his own version of congratulations. Her arms were weighed down by flowers which she was eager to hand over to her coach, and her camera-shy personality had been temporarily locked away by Ami’s super-ego. Cameras flashed into her eyes, the whole backstage area was in an uproar while competition was suspended for a few moments. Watanebe did not look pleased, for the first time not the focus of the press, and when they would badger her, it would not be because she had done well, but because Ami had done well. Ami’s eyes did not meet the Prince’s, while his sincerity could not be doubted, it was not who she wanted to see right now.
    She suddenly saw her mother pulling back the dark curtains to the backstage, making a spectacular entrance by a simple clap of the hand to announce herself. Her eyes glistened and filled with tears, tears of pride for what she had just done. The media parted like the Red Sea before her and Ami, Ami and her mother met each other halfway for a hug, the valuable news picture. With another simple, yet elegant wave of the hand, Dr. Mizuno pressed the eager reporters away to lead her daughter to the quietness of the dressing rooms. Ami looked at her mother in awe, the way that she had just been able to handle the press, yet without having displeased them at all, not to mention that she had not even glanced over at the Prince, but in truth, she didn’t care. Thoughts ran in and out of her mind, all the things that had occupied her mind during the last two hours. Mother, I have so much to tell you, she thought.
 

Index