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“You can’t lace them too loose, Oikawa-kun. You’ll break an ankle.”
“And what difference would that make? I’d still—”
“Play volleyball? We know,” Iwaizumi tightened his own skates and took a knee in front of a struggling Oikawa, “but you’d be really slow.”
“Iwa-chan!” He resisted the urge to kick him with his heavy skated-feet. Crossing his arms like a child and threw his head back dramatically.
Iwa rolled his eyes almost enough to give himself a headache—of course more than the headache that sat before him—and yanked on the captain’s laces. Oikawa looked away silently, screaming within his head and blushing.
It wasn’t from the cold, either. His rosy cheeks glowed in the cold, his breath fizzling as it made contact with the air. Iwaizumi reached his hand out with a bit of a bow after standing, “Your hand, sir.”
“You’re so formal, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa grinned and took his gloved hand in his own.
“Try not to fall. It’s weird the first time,” A pull and Oikawa was on his feet, nearly falling forward into Iwaizumi’s chest. “What’d I say?”
“Yeah, sorry. It’s really weird.”
“I already said that.”
That he did. The two waddled their way over to the little door in the wall. Just about every eye glanced as it creaked it’s praises to the high heavens.
Truth was: no one was actually looking. But, it felt as if they were. As Iwaizumi was worried about Oikawa embarrassing him by falling and literally dying, and Oikawa was worried about falling, dying, and thus embarrassing himself.
Second nonsense. Everyone was falling, some losing precious ankles and others: their souls were leaving their bodies. The smart ones clung to the wall, making their way around little by little. Speed demons terrorized the calmer ones and two couples held hands as they skated.
Oikawa wanted Iwaizumi to hold his hands, too. They felt cold, like his toes.
And heart.
Wait.
Just kidding.
“Okay, since this is your first time, hold onto the wall and please for the love of all things holy: don’t let go.”
“No need to be so mean, Iwa. It’s not like I’m going to wipe out or anything.”
"You say that now. But, just you wait. Soon, your worthless confidence will take you places you do not want to go. Like: on your butt in the icy surface.”
Worthless confidence, huh? Geez, Iwa-chan! You’re starting to sound like Ushiwaka, good gosh. “Rude.”
“True, though.”
“Maybe so, but still.”
“You act like you won’t—” And, in front of him, his boyfriend already spilled on the ground, gracefully sprawled out. Then, he started doing snow angels on the ice. Snow. Angels. You’ve got to be kidding. “Crappykawa, get ahold of yourself and get off your butt! You’re in the way!”
In response, completely in accordance with his age appropriation, Oikawa rotated around and untied Iwaizumi’s skate-lace. After shakily using the wall to stand, Iwaizumi looked over at him, gaping in a I-can’t-believe-you-just-did-that. Oikawa reciprocated with his own look of: please-don’t-kill-me.
“Know what? Stay in the way, then,” Iwaizumi grabbed his shoulders and threw his balance off, got him on his butt again, and sent him flailing like a fish towards the middle of the rink. Abandoning him to slide the rest of the way and then to fend for himself in the sea of good skaters, he left to re-tie his good work. “Good luck!”
Appalled, a few mothers gaped at his action, and he merely shrugged at them.
“Iwa-chan! What am I supposed to do?! You told me not to go away from the wall!”
“And I told you to fend for yourself! Have fun!” And with a wave, sat back on the bench to enjoy the show.
Hungry sharks encircled him, their blades like teeth likening to destroy his entire existence and pride. Confidence receded from his little island in the center, the tide seeming to bring more and more sharks closer and closer to the comfortable safety.
“Okay,” He coached himself, getting to one knee and then eventually to his feet. Unsteadily, but there. “Iwa! Look!”
“I see,” Like a bored mom, no less, he smiled faintly at his distressed lover, who held his hands out in front of himself for balance. Half of Iwaizumi hoped he’d fall and bust it again, and the other half—selfishly, but it was more like a whole—hoped he’d actually beam like that forever, proud of his slight work.
Yeah, he loved that adorable smile. However, It’d be more funny if he fell again.
“Alright, I just gotta skate to the wall over there, right? Yeah, okay. I got this. If I can serve a volleyball the best in the prefecture, I can skate to this wall without killing myself or anyone else.”
Well, without killing anyone else until he got his hands around Hajime’s neck. Oh hell, when he got out of that gate, Iwa was going to feel his WRATH.
Hold the volleyball: realization. He paused in his efforts to move forward. The best revenge wasn’t a punch in the face, no. No. It would be showing him that he could really skate. That he could figure it out all by himself. Revealing the fact that he wasn’t just a little kid floundering around in the middle of the ice could far outshine the previously demonstrated horrendous skills. Showing that he didn’t need Rude-jime to help him.
Right foot. Left foot. A few at a time. Shuffling was his best, most balanced approach...so far. He gulped at the steady stream of skaters whizzing by on his right. Where’s the crosswalk? At this rate, he would be completely annihilated by a semi-truck if he tried to cross to the wall on the other side of the road.
Hear that? Bloody roadkill. Iwaizumi shared a laugh with the gentle powder that fell from the darkened sky and stood, ready to not rescue Oikawa, but instead to laugh at him as he whizzed by.
After sucking in a breath he prayed would give him courage, a gap appeared and he took it. Shuffles mutated into something that resembled a jog-ish.
Of course, when you run on ice with skates on, the outcome you are imagining does not quite reciprocate in turn. The graceful sprint you had in mind melts into an ice face-plant.
Made it to the wall, though. Does that count?