Work Text:
Whether or not I have or was given a little more time
There just doesn't seem to be much room for a reply
And it's possible it only belongs where it happened, fine.
According to John, fear softens into doubt
To what do I cling and think is—
—
Kunigami fell in love with the ice for the first time in early December. He must have been around five years old, just learning how to skate. The rink itself was inside, and honestly not very packed. Light blue and purple paintings on the walls and top 100 pop music playing loudly to the point where everyone’s voices were drowned out. (Really, he was never a fan of pop music, even then)
Which is why when he fell down on the side of the rink, nobody heard him start to sob over the harsh j-pop voice over the cruddy and aged speakers.
At least until another boy, probably around his age came over to help him up.
His sisters were at home, probably playing some games with their father because they didn’t wanna come. Both of them hate the cold, preferring to stay home with their father and drink hot cocoa in their rooms. They’re always so reserved. He on the other hand adored the snow, always has. Kunigami couldn't even begin to convey his excitement at ice skating for the first time with his mother, al
“Hey!” Kunigami doesn’t really remember what he looked like, aside from the black and red ice skates he had on, and his blindingly red hair brushing his shoulders. “Do you need some help? My mama taught me how to skate, so I’m pretty good!” He smiled, softly.
Kunigami looked up at him in awe from beyond his fists, wiping away his tears.
“Y-yeah. I’ve never, uh, done skat-ing before...” He hiccuped. Kind of embarrassing how torn up he was over a fall, looking back. (But he was a sensitive kid. Maybe that’s why he hit the gym so hard in middle school). Yet the boy in front of him only smiled. So Kunigami smiled back. He was never one to stay upset for long.
“Well, um, my mama says you have to bend your knees a lil’ bit when you go. I think,” he said to him. “Maybe hold my hand? I hold my mama’s hand, so you can hold mine too!” Kunigami shakily nodded.
Kunigami gripped onto the rails on the side of the rink to stand up on wobbly knees and his bruised leg. This other boy was really nice. Kunigami stuttered out an agreement and latched onto the strange redheads arm. The other boy was really warm, he noted. The redhead was also a bit shorter than him making it awkward to move onto the ice with him. Although the other seemed to take no issue, easily pulling them both up to go around and around the rink.
He almost tripped more than a few times.
But it was fun.
He even got the hang of it eventually, the other showing him how to glide on the ice and move properly to the point where they were even racing each other. Kunigami didn’t think he’d ever had so much fun in his life. The soft chill of the ice below him, and loud laughter coming from beside him and the flashes of others having as much fun as him. He never wanted it to end.
“Hey- hey! Let’s play tag!” Kunigami grabbed onto the other boys’ shoulder. “You’re it!”
They chased after each other for hours, and it felt like no time at all had passed, so enraptured with the other to pay attention to the ticking clock and the annoyed adults they accidentally shoved out of their way to care.
Kunigami didn’t win, but damn if he didn’t have a great time.
This is probably when Kunigami figured he fell in love with the ice for the first time.
“Hyouma-chan! Let’s go, your father won’t wait forever!” A taller woman, with a yellow sweater yelled out and into the rink. A few bystanders turned to look at her as she did.
“Hey, my mama’s callin’ me, I think I have to leave!” The redhead stopped and turned around, gripping the rail beside him, Kunigami right behind him.
Hyouma .
He watched as Hyouma left, and his own mother start packing their things. He thought to himself.
Maybe he’d see the boy again someday.
(However, it wouldn’t be for a while)
—
Hockey is hard- a fact of life. But Kunigami’s training regime is one that anyone would admit to making the sport harder than need be. Always the first in the gym, and typically the last one out. In this case though, in preparation for the Olympics as he was representing Japan. Kunigami was staying at a hotel , and he’d probably be there for weeks, practicing for what’s to come starting Thursday.
Meanwhile, maybe watching the things he wasn’t able to see in person would be nice. After a long shower, he slipped under the plush, white colored comforter and grabbed the remote on the bedside table. After fiddling with it for a bit, he was able to find the right channel.
Figure skating.
Huh.
The first thing he noticed was the music choice. It was a particularly sad piece. Sur le fil, he saw in the corner.
The second, more important thing he noticed was the figure skater. Long red hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and a brilliant light purple adorned with mock diamonds and amethysts crossing the chest.
He looked powerful .
Maybe it was in the legs, the way they almost seemed to be floating over the ice like he was some sort of arctic dove. Or it could be his form, and the practice notably well spent into slaving over mastering the choreography.
Hyouma Chigiri .
(Could it be-)
As he landed his second jump- a quadruple during a particularly powerful point in the piece- and later an axel, he almost missed the rough knocking at his door. He definitely didn’t miss his grouch of a coach telling him to get up off his ass and answer him. He never did like his hockey coach, but he was a good one. That, and the only one really. One who understood his passion at least.
He turned off the television.
He already knew that he won.
—
Japan lost. They got bronze, but when the hell is that ever good enough? But now is not the time for taking breaks. It never is. It’s going to be a long while until the next winter olympics, but every moment is going to be spent productively. Kunigami has always been good at schedules (just not as good at making sure he doesn’t over work himself for the sacrifice of his health).
In his spare time though, he volunteered at the ice rink he essentially grew up in. He taught young kids how to skate. Today though, the rink was empty and he was alone, having gained permission to spend as much time there as he pleased (for free too, which was a nice bonus) when it was closed.
The door opened behind him.
“Hey… is this place open? I wasn’t sure, but I saw you skating here, so-“
Wow. In the flesh. Of all the places to be, Chigiri Hyouma walked right into this dingy little indoor ice rink.
He was shorter than on television.
“Nah, it’s closed,” Kunigami said, pausing to catch himself on the rail. “Besides, I don’t wanna make any assumptions, but I’m pretty sure you’re Chigiri Hyouma right? Olympic skater? It’s fine.”
“Yes, I am,” Chigiri walked to the side bench to put his skates on. “But I don’t like taking things for free, I’ll put the yen on the desk.”
So he was right.
“Aren’t you Kunigami Rensuke though?”
Shit.
“Yes?”
“I thought you were cool, when you played,” Chigiri waved a hand in the air. “You’re taller than I thought, though,” Chigiri laughed into his hand as he stepped up into the rink with his red and black skates. Kunigami had half a nerve to be mildly annoyed, but maybe he was an exception. Chigiri was awfully cute.
“Thanks. And you’re shorter than on television!”
Kunigami could see a flush of red on Chigiri’s cheeks, spreading to the tips of his ears. Visibly embarrassed, Chigir still had to stifle another laugh.
“So, mister Hockey star, what have you been up to?”
Star?
Oh no. Kunigami could feel his own blush rising through his cheeks and fast. Was that even a compliment? Was it a jab? His brain was telling him it was a compliment. Was it an insult to his bronze medal? Shit.
“Relax, Kunigami-san. It was a compliment. I already told you that you were pretty good on the ice earlier,” Chigiri laughed again. God his laugh was pretty. How can a laugh even be pretty? “In fact, you looked really nice on the ice. Powerful? You dominated that game, even if you lost. I’m sure you’ll win next time.”
Was he a mind reader, or did he just instinctively know the exact things bothering him? Kunigami coughed to clear his throat. He should probably respond, lest the conversation be… too awkward.
“Thank you, Chigiri-san. And I’m sure you’ll win again next year as well.” He said.
“Shouldn’t we skate now?”
“Yeah, maybe we should. Wanna race?”
“You bet. Winner buys the other dinner!”
—
‘Star Boy’ was a nickname Chigiri picked up for him after the first 4 or so dates they had. And now, at a restaurant near his apartment in Akita late next January, he realizes they haven’t even kissed yet. Not that he knows how to start that one. (They exchange “I love you’s” and they hug, and even kiss each other on the cheek, but… not on the lips.)
“I’ve been meaning to ask, Star boy, but how come you don’t like cereal? It’s been a God-Send for me,” Chigiri asks that night, leaning slightly over the table. He’s wearing a red thick knit sweater. “I mean, early morning wake-ups? Who has the time to make a full breakfast anyway…”
Kunigami, used to recognizing the jabs Chigiri makes at him, only grins back.
“I do. If you had a better sleep schedule, maybe you could too. Better than soggy cereal making you vomit after practice, after all.”
“Nope! Stopping you right there. Nobody wakes up at 4 am after a 7 hour sleep and feels ready for the day. I’m not buying it. You’re just an alien.” Chigiri crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, pouting.
“Again, I do.”
Chigiri turned back towards him, ready to retort when suddenly Kunigami leaned across the empty, dark wooden table to lightly press his lips against his.
Vanilla lip balm.
Kunigami leaned back into his seat.
“Wow, Kunigami. Kissing me to distract me now? How suave of you,” Chigiri had slightly puffy lips from their kiss.
Kunigami laughed and placed his hand over his boyfriends.
“You liked it though, yeah?”
“Of course.”
—
It’s March, a few months into their relationship when Hyouma tells him something important. It’s also when Kunigami tells him something important back.
They’re sitting on a bench together, and after sending a few texts to his friend and teammate Isagi, he realizes he and Hyouma act a bit like a lovey-dovey old people couple. Which, he will agree to. He can’t help but adore the way his boyfriend looks like turning a page and turning on the ice. He will never understand the redheads love of literature, but he always joins in for the contrast in the way they skate together.
“I should really tell you, Ren, but I don’t know how much longer I can skate for.”
This was… not what he was expecting. Not at all.
“What? I thought your parents-“
“Not them. It’s an… old injury I got. When I was in middle school.” Hyouma looks down at his lap.
Ah. So not the parents. Good. He rather liked the Chigiri family, but he would fight them any day for Hyouma. No question.
But…
“An injury?” Kunigami leaned over to brush away the long strands of hair in Hyouma’s face. “What happened?”
“I… When I was in middle school, I tore my ACL. If it ever happens again, I won’t be able to skate again. At least not competitively.”
Kunigami was… speechless.
“I’ve learned over the years to not be so scared of my injury. That I don’t need to quit because of it, but I need to keep going in spite of it instead. I’m still scared though, so I wanted to ask you,” Chigiri cleared his throat.
Kunigami stayed silent while Chigiri pressed a small kiss to his cheek.
“If I ever injure my knee again, you better win for me.”
“Of course I will.”
—
Inevitably and uneventfully, it happens around a year later in a practice match.
—
Watching him on television is and always will be so much different than seeing him in person, Chigiri knows this as a fact. Especially when the ice seems to crumble in his presence, a flash of danger in the air, even all the way up in the stands. Whenever Rensuke goes to play, he’s not nice. Ren told him once that it wasn’t always like that- he wasn’t always that competitive. Not until he needed to be.
Chigiri tugged his mittens on tighter, the orange fluff sticking tight to his fingers but he couldn’t find it in himself to care while his eyes were glued to the game. Or more specifically his boyfriend, now.
He watched as he shot another, and another into the goal, none of the opposing team even touching him. The crowd roared for him. Chigiri did too. He thinks he’s probably the loudest of them all though as he stands to roar for his boyfriends team alongside Ren’s sisters.
Of course, they won.
And now they have matching medals and trophies.
—
Chigiri thinks he fell in love with the ice again for the first time in a while.