Actions

Work Header

Passione on Ice 2019 (Translation in English)

Summary:

Join Giorno Giovanna is on his journey of becoming figure skating's brightest star. As more sinister forces dwell beneath the surface of the glamorous world of sports, Giorno finds his golden dream put to the test against a bleak reality.
Fate's most favored prodigies, destiny's forgotten sons. Amidst the swirling rapids of a tumultuous field, only the strong shall find the power to face what the future has to offer.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

        1

 

        Guido Mista sits in the ‘kiss and cry’ * , waiting for his final score.  

       

        After the free skate, the flowers and dolls dropped by the audience have almost buried him up. He waves at his spectators, but his eyes flicker, his heart absent.

       

       The pop songs used to warm the air above the ice rink circulate continuously, but there is a terrifying silence on the referee seat.

       

       Anxiously, he digs his nails into his palm, his fists land on his knees, rubbing wrinkles into the thin fabric.

       

       Mista's gaze sways between the center score display and the narrow entrance at the other end.

       

       Suddenly the audience burst into explosive cheers; he recovers, capturing his freeskate results from the cold female voice on the PA.

       

       New personal best.

       

       Oh, not bad.

      

       Now he’s ranked in...

       

       The fourth place.

       

       Mista spits, shit.

       

       But he still has one last hope.

       

       The final competitor Giorno Giovanna, his lucky boy, is coming up.

       

       This would be the last chance to change their rankings.

       

       The last chance for everyone.

       

       You must make it to the podium, Giorno.

       

       Mista gazes into the dark player corridor and narrows his eyes.





      

 

       Ghiaccio climbs from the spiral staircase of the fire exit to the last row of the auditorium.

       

       It takes him a few seconds to calm his breath. He rests a hand on the handle of the exit door, but lets go at the last second.

       

       He rarely let emotions take control on the ice, but thousands of thoughts now flood his mind. The frigid door handle seems to burn like a flame, scalding his palm.

       

       Goddammit!

       

       He violently kicks the exit open, striking his fist against the concrete wall with a loud, heartbreaking slam. However, with all eyes on the center of the ice rink, only a few care enough to turn around. Not many audiences notice the hooded young man in a gray sweater.       

       

       Ghiaccio takes out his glasses. The red frame adorning his face becomes the only bit of warm color in a palette of blue and gray.

       

       He frowns and leans on the door frame behind him, eyeing sideways at the blurred figure at the end of the contestant's passage. Dressed in black, with conspicuously blond hair.

 

       Hmph.

       

       He grips the hem of his jumper tightly, gritting his teeth.

       

       Giorno Giovanna.

       

       I’ll kill you if you dare lose.

 

       3

 

       Outside the ice rink, Jean Pierre Polnareff sits in a pub two blocks away. He looks through the window at Montreal’s swirling snow.

       

       At the ends of the oak tabletop are two glasses of cold beer, barely touched. Water condenses and slides down the outer wall of the glass, then seeps into the wood below.

       

      Two crutches quietly rest on the edge of his leather deck.

       

       Polnareff raises his glass at the overhead light to examine its bubbling contents. He makes a toast to the man in white sitting opposite him. Bottoms up.

      

      "JOJO, your kid’s got talent, his jumps give off your vibe from back then. "

       

       His subject tips the brim of his hat and waggles his glass in return, then takes one sip.

     

      "Yare yare... Josuke is a youngster… he’s still got a lot to learn. Isn’t your student up next? His son. "

       

       Polnareff looks sideways at the flashing TV set next to the bar. Something prompts him to shake his head. 

       

      " Indeed. But I think he resembles you more. " He taps the table with his fingertips. 

        

       The same reckless valiance.

        

       So I bid him luck.

        

       Win, Giorno Giovanna.   

         

 

       4

 

       "Bucciarati! Abbacchio! Hurry, hurry! "

        

       Narancia reclines on a hospital bunk with a pillow tightly stuffed behind his waist. With his fractured right foot dangling from a harness, the plaster cast around his injury seems extra cumbersome in contrast with his somewhat slim build.

       

       Bucciarati sits on a bedside chair, breaking a peeled tangerine into two halves. He hands one half to Narancia, and with an outstretched hand delivers the other half to Abbacchio.

      

      The tall white-haired man is taken aback for a moment, and then hurriedly shoves the fruit back into the palm of his partner in a clumsy motion.

       

       All three of them have their gaze locked on the 25 -inch TV screen facing the bed.

       

      "That kid ..."

       

       Abbacchio frowns, fingers unconsciously gripping the cold iron bed frame.

       

       His hand is immediately enveloped in Bucciarati’s palm.

      

       "Leone, just trust him.”

 

 

       5

 

       Fugo has skipped class.

       

       Today is his music theory final, but he has chosen to neglect it anyway.

       

       Much contemplation brings him to the piano room, where he can hide and watch the broadcast in peace. He sets his phone on one of the music stands, having switched from school wifi to cellular data for smoother streaming.

       

       In fact, he has no idea how he should approach this tournament--an event that his former companions, Narancia and Bucciarati and everyone else, are surely watching with a close eye as well.

       

       In the months after retirement, he has deliberately avoided watching any skating events.

       

       He has put away his skates and training clothes, and has grown occasionally scared of looking at the calluses on his ankle.

       

       Sadness and shame haunt him for his cowardice.

       

       Sorry, everyone.

       

       He slowly lifts his head from his palms.

       

       6

 

       Risotto has just rushed back to his apartment from the ice rink of the Hitman Club, not even bothering to slow down and clean his jacket of ice bits.

       

       Their equipment has gone obsolete--their ice is always covered in a layer of lukewarm water that can never be completely frozen. With the rink closed today due to the World Championships, he takes advantage of the rare vacancy to repair the refrigerating pump himself. However, there are still a few small spots that need an additional tweak.

      

       Another try in the evening should do it.

       

       With that thought, he hastens, with longer strides than usual, through the trash-filled dark alley behind the ice rink, past the graffitied lamp posts, then turns to an unremarkable small building, pushing away the rust-covered iron gate.

       

       The athlete's apartment living room is already ridiculously crowded, stuffed full with his colleagues from the rink.

       

       Formaggio has his Siamese on his lap, Prosciutto is wiping his skates with coral fleece, while Pesci sits next to him, on the verge of hyperventilation. Illuso sits cross-legged on the carpet next to the floor mirror. Melone is still working on a half-finished costume. On their shared single couch is the rare sight of Sorbet and Gelato seated upright . 

       

       Risotto nods at them, and takes the empty seat facing the old TV screen.

 

 

       7

 

       Giorno stands in the dark passage.

       

       The wind sweeps the cold air above the ice rink, pouring back into the narrow corridor carrying the chatter from outside. A dim light flickers at the end of the darkness, striking a bright reflection off the plastic flooring.

       

       His long blond locks drape behind his shoulders, with the tail of the braid resting neatly atop his black training suit.

       

       It's almost time.

       

       The teen clenches his fists and releases them again, then takes a deep breath, his green eyes flickering in the dim light.

        

       His blades, covered in protective scabbards, make an almost inaudible rubbing sound against the floor as he steps toward that light without hesitation.

        

       Beneath the plastic scabbards colored red and blue, there is a golden blade hidden inside. 

 

       * Kiss and Cry: The kiss and cry is the area in a figure skating rink where skaters wait for their marks to be announced after their performances. It is so named because the skaters and coaches often kiss or cry to express their emotions while receiving a score. The area is usually located in the corner or end of the rink, elaborately decorated with flowers or some other backdrop for television shots and photos of the skaters as they react to their performance and scores.

                

Notes:

Hi! I am GlutamineQAQ! Finally set my mind to translate this story into English!

Passione on Ice is co-created by me and 阿燃(her blog: https://burntsugar.lofter.com/). The Chinese original version of it has updated to Chapter 47 so far, and now PinkMoldyOctopus and I are working together on the translation ( she literally saves my messy English).

I started watching figure skating in 2010. As a sport integrates technique and artistry, judged by objectivity and subjectivity, figure skating, in reality, is indeed full of the unspoken rules of injustice. The deeper I looked into this industry, the more shocked I felt facing the harsh reality. That's why I wrote this story. Though it's by no means a lighthearted story, at least in this alternative universe, there will be a happy ending for everyone!

Some extra notes:

1. While translating this, we separated some originally combined chapters, so the chapter numbers are not consistent with those in the Chinese version. (Though the contents are the same)

2. In the coming chapters, I will post some links to the figure skating references that I used. I also cut and remix some of the music. Watching/listening to them will definitely boost up your reading experience!