Archive of Our Own

 “Don’t be nervous.”

 “I'm not. Why would I be?”

 “You’re going to chew all your nails off by the time Nezha skates.”

 Rin instantly dropped her hand from her mouth and glared at Kitay. “I’m fine.”

 “How are you even more nervous than the time you competed?”

 Kitay knew exactly why, and Rin was terribly aware. She glowered instead of answering.

 She could feel Venka rolling her eyes at her left. "He'll be fine. He’s in the lead in the short program, and he’s never been better this season. Also, the public loves him, the crowd would be good for him.”

 Rin grudgingly admitted that was true. Although Nezha was Nikan's representative, he had a fair amount of fans all over the globe. Dark hair, pale complexion with exquisite eyebrows, mouth shaped like a sculpture, girls were giggling every time he was in a competition.

 "It's all because he's pretty."

 She didn't notice what she said till she caught Venka smirking at her. Shit. "So you do think he's pretty?"

 Rin gave the other girl a glower harder than the one she gave Kitay. "It's just an observation."

 Kitay gave a loud cough that sounded more like a snort.

 “Sure, Rin," said Venka. "Just wipe the scowl off your face and smile. I bet every camera’s zooming in on you whenever they can.”

 Unfortunately, that was probably true. Rin put on a grudging smile on her face to whatever camera that was searching for the Olympic Gold Medalist of women figure skating. 

 The three of them were seated in the arena where the free skating for Men would start in an hour. The air was more chattery and excited than tense, but all Rin could feel was a suffocating lump in her throat.

 "Also, why did you wear your training jacket? I told you to wear something else."

 "It's comfy," Rin said defensively.

 Venka gave a loud, exaggerated sigh. "The press would love a pretty picture of the gold medalists tonight and you're wearing a training jacket."

 "They can take one at the airport, anyway," she mumbled. But it wasn’t exactly the reason. If she got her hopes up too much, she feared she would jinx it. Better to have zero expectations and be surprised with the result.

 Not that she thought he would be bad. He would be good, he always was. Luck was on his side this time too; no injuries, prime condition. Also his rival had a slip in the short program.

 They had seen Nezha already, briefly before he could focus on his preparations. Rin rose on her tiptoes to give him a short but tight hug which he reciprocated.

 "Don't fall," she said when she fell back on her heels.

 He grinned. "I'll try."

 "Good luck."

 They left him alone for him to warm up and get ready, which was, personally, the worst part for her. There was nothing she could do except trust him, trust that he would do his best, and trust that he would do alright. Rin knew that despite the journey that wouldn’t have been possible without her family and friends and coaches supporting her, the final leap had to be done by herself, and the same went for Nezha. 

 It didn’t mean she didn’t wish she could do something, anything.

 The thought sent the corners of her lips twitching. Five years ago, she never would’ve found herself wishing Yin Nezha good luck before the Olympics. The first time she officially, properly met Nezha had not been a pleasant experience. Rin was 16 years old when she was alone at the ice rink, practicing. The time was nearing midnight, her thighs felt like bursting, her breaths were coming in short, and all her triple Axels were complete fucking disaster.

 It was nothing serious. Really. All she wanted to do before finishing her training for the day was to complete each triple jump in a row and be done with it. So far, she jumped all other ones perfectly―except the fucking triple Axel.

 Rin gritted her teeth. She was not leaving the damn arena till she got this jump right three times in a row.

 Letting out a long breath, she pushed herself off the fence and skated, crisscrossing across the ice and gaining speed. She stared straight ahead, visualizing herself jumping and landing on one foot perfectly balanced, and was about to leap when a voice echoed through the arena. 

 "Relax your body, you're too stiff."

 Rin lost her concentration, jumped half heartedly, landed before she completed the rotation, stumbled and fell over.

 The moment black spots stopped dancing across her eyes, she whipped around to glare at the culprit who interrupted her. Yin Nezha gave a grin as an answer to her glower.

 "What are you doing here?"

 He shrugged. "Did a last bit of running, and saw the lights inside were on. I thought someone left them on and forgot about it, didn't think anyone was practicing this late."

 Of course she was the only one practicing this late. She was the only one who ever did, and not during normal practice hours. Which was probably why they didn't have the chance to make acquaintances despite both of them being national athletes for figure skating. 

 They could have, though. She knew he was friends with Kitay, with whom she made fast friends when she first came to Nikan to train. Kitay wasn't a skater, but was a frequent presence in the arena due to his father being part of Nikan's figure skating federation.

 At her home, Speer didn't even have a proper figure skating federation. Speer also lacked proper ice rinks for athletes. Which was, Rin grudgingly thought, understandable due to low interest in Winter Sports overall. Speer thrived during the summer Olympics, not the winter.

 However, that didn't stop her from immediately falling in love with skating when she and her family visited the only ice rink in Speer when she was just a kid.

 Many said no, it would be impossible for her to properly train. There has been no history of Speer’s figure skating, it was simply unprecedented, there was no proper support, or any support. Too big a risk, likely to fail.

 But when she pleaded that she desperately wanted to try, her parents did everything they could.

 Her path was tough―tougher than she ever imagined, she would admit to herself in weak moments. Rin had to visit and borrow Nikan's ice rink time for her training, which meant when other Nikara athletes were done with theirs. Which meant she was often alone late at night or early in the morning. Which meant she never crossed paths with Yin Nezha before.

 His face was familiar enough for her, however. How could it not be? He was the star of Nikan, rising prince of men's figure skating. Same age as her yet already in high favor of the World Championships next year. He was untouchable.

 "Well I was practicing," she snapped now. "And I was doing fine."

 "I don't think landing on two feet and collapsing on the ice would be considered fine in the competition."

 Rin tried to come up with a clever retort, couldn't find any, and elected to ignore him by retying her laces.

 "Aren't you going to leave?"

 Rin stood up after finishing the knot. "No."

 "When, then?"

 "Not until I succeed in doing the triple Axel three times in a row."

 Nezha gave a low whistle. "In a row?"

 "Yes."

 "Why?"

 She shot him a look. "Because."

 He tilted his head, waiting. She scowled and turned, reaching for her bottle of water. 

 He wasn't leaving. She untied her hair and took an extra time to brush and redo it. He wasn't leaving.

 Finally, she caved. "Are you going to stay and stare all day?"

 "I want to see."

 Oh yeah, watch her fall over the goddamn triple Axel that she knew he mastered already. As if she would want that.

 "Why?"

 "I'd like to help."

 She snorted. "I don't need it."

 "Then you definitely won't have a problem with me watching."

 Rin was sure she was going to get arrested for murdering Nikan's ice prince before she got a World title. 

 She clenched her jaw; she would make the jump, then. 

 Once again, she started her crossovers. She was going to do it. She was.

 As soon as she jumped, she knew she was going to fail. She used so much strength on the leap that she failed to pull in her arms tight, knew her axis was fucking terrible in a thought that flashed across her mind in less than a second, landed before she completed the rotation, and fell.

 She heard him laughing before she even got up. Face heating up in both frustration and embarrassment, she skated across the rink at a lightning speed and was already putting on her skate guards before Nezha seemed to realize what she was doing.

 "Hey!"

 She ignored him, collecting her water bottle and tissues and putting her stuff with more force than necessary in her bag. She zipped it up, shrugged on her training jacket, then turned to bump into Nezha standing right behind her.

 "Where are you going?"

 "Fuck off," she spat as she moved to go pass him. He easily blocked her path.

 "Listen, I didn’t mean to laugh—"

 "I don't want to talk to you," she said as coldly as she could. This time, she turned around and stalked off the other way for the exit. She didn't hear him follow her.

 The fucking nerve. The fucking nerve of him to laugh at her. He had his privileged ass backed by the federation, his family, and she was all alone yet he had the fucking nerve to laugh at her. She should’ve punched him in the face before she left, before she let her embarrassment and wounded pride drive her out the arena.

 That would be the first and the last time she would talk to him, she decided. Never in her life would she ever cross paths with Yin Nezha again. If he dared to, then he was getting the punch he so well deserved. 

 Her resolutions were shattered several days after. 

 By that time, thoughts of Yin Nezha had faded away from her mind. When she came to the ice rink expecting it to be empty, her steps were abruptly halted. Several seconds passed during which her mind whirled with options, whether she should ignore him and train, or leave and come back later, or yell at him but she lost her chance to make up her mind as Nezha spotted her.

 "Hey, listen—"

 She figured the glare was enough to shut him up.

 "It's my training time," she said stiffly. "I'm sure I rented the place only for me to use."

 He seemed to have gotten the message. When Rin had put on her boots and stepped onto the ice, she found that he was gone.

 The next day, before sauntering in the arena, she first peaked her head in and looked around cautiously. She found a figure standing inside again, but not the one she was expecting.

 "What are you doing here?" she cried out in surprise, ran toward Kitay and almost forced him to stumble back with the impact of her hug. "I thought you wouldn’t be back till your research trip ended, I was expecting at least another week!”

 “Ended early.” He ruffled her hair while still holding her in a half-hug. “Thought I would give some moral support.”

 “You’re amazing, did you know that?”

 “I do hope you don’t change your mind.”

 “What?”

 “And there he is. Rin, I love you.”

 He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and then turned and ran. Rin stood, confused until a sound of someone clearing their throat startled her.

 Nezha stood at her back, looking awkward.

 "You used Kitay to get me to talk to you?" she said, too incredulous to be mad. "And he agreed?"

 "I was bribed! And threatened!” Kitay’s voice called out. “Sorry, Rin!”

 “Oh I will get you later,” she murmured. 

 “Can you spare a minute?” said Nezha.

 “No.”

 “Please?”

 She gave a loud huff. “You have 57 seconds remaining.”

 He took a breath. Rin folded her arms, glared at the wall to her right.

 "I'm sorry I laughed."

 She snorted.

 "No, I really am. It was rude of me to interrupt your training and be nosy. I… I truly owe you an apology. Everyone's practice is important and I ruined yours that day. I'm sorry."

 She was more surprised than angry now—blatant honesty wasn't what she expected.

 A part of her wanted to stay pissed at him—an extremely large part of her in fact—but now she could tell he was determined to win her forgiveness no matter what. And Rin really needed to train now.

 “Fine,” she said. “Don’t bother me again, then.”

 She dumped her bag and herself on the bench, pulled on her skates and began to tie the laces up. Rin took more seconds than she normally needed. When she stood up once more however, he was still fidgeting in the same spot.

 "God, what the fuck do you want?"

 "I… I want to make it up to you."

 "You can do it by leaving me alone in peace."

 "How about I make you an offer?"

 Rin scowled. "What can you possibly offer me?" 

 "An advice on the triple Axel?"

 That stopped her tracks. It was, however much she hated it, extremely tempting.

 “How do I know you’re not bluffing?”

 “What do I gain from bluffing?”

 “Gain Nikan their women figure skating champion?”

 “Nobody's as good as you here, though. You shouldn’t be worried.”

 She blinked; her rivalry with Nikan's figure skaters during the junior year had been prominent. With the Hesperian prodigy skater withdrawing due to injury, Rin did end up beating all the other girls in the Junior World Championship last year, but Nezha's words still surprised her; which one, blunt honesty or the casual compliment or the matter of fact way he said it, she didn’t know, but it did the trick.

 “Fine. What advice?”

 "I suggest you redo your double Axel."

 Rin bristled instantly. "Why? I'm good at it."

 "Good because your technique is genuinely good or because it's less likely to fail despite some flaws in your technique due to less rotations?"

 She frowned. "You think something's wrong with my Axel?"

 "I'm not saying that. I'm saying that while I was struggling with my quad Salchow, I went back to steady and perfect my triple sal, and it helped. I'm suggesting a similar thing."

 It made sense, somehow. But she wasn't about to show it. "Maybe."

 “Do let me know if you do it.”

 “I’m landing one in the competition next season, you can check it out then.” The words came out sharper than she intended, but Nezha didn’t seem to take much offense. Instead, he laughed. God, what the fuck was wrong with him?

 "Why do you always practice so late, though?"

 Was his only talent being ridiculously good on ice? Did he trade his brain cells for skating? "Because it's the only available time left for me."

 "Oh."

 "Yeah. Oh. Unless you're going to conjure free time out of thin air, could you please fuck off?"

 He was giving her a look. What look, she couldn't place it. "You could…"

 Rin was about to smack him. “Listen, you’ve already stolen 16 minutes of my practice hours, and if you’re so extremely very tremendously sorry as you say, you will leave me alone.”

 "You could train with me. Use my time. I don't need to use the whole rink, we could divide it in half."

 "What?”

 “I mean, I think it would be good and work for both of us. I could use a training partner. You could use better training hours.”

 "I don't need your help," she said automatically.

 “It’s not a help. Think of it as a genuine offer.”

 What the fuck was happening to her fucking life? Was the world paying back for her winning Junior Worlds? Was she having a nightmare? If it was, then she’d better wake up soon. She closed her eyes, breathed deep once and opened them. Nope, he was still standing there with a little too much knowing look on his face. This was either a nightmare or the entire universe had flipped without her noticing. 

 "I don't understand."

 "What?"

 "What would you gain from this? Why would you offer me this? I accepted your apology. You gave me your piece of advice. Why would you do something more?"

 “Why would you question and turn down a generous offer?”

 She narrowed her eyes. “How do I know you’re not spying on me?”

 “Why in the world would I spy on you? Learn how to fall on the triple Axel?” He caught her expression. “Sorry, out of the line—okay, the thing is, I think you might be better for me, too. It's tough training alone, isn't it? We all need something, or someone, to motivate ourselves."

 Rin was dumbfounded. "And you think I would be a good motivation for you?"

 “You are the reigning women's Junior World Champion, aren’t you?”

 “You know who I am?”

 Nezha’s brows rose. “Obviously.”

 Rin swallowed down whatever surprise that came up her throat. “What, you couldn’t find any other training partners?”

 He looked up, blowing out a long breath in exasperation. “None of them are as good as I am. I won’t gain anything by training with them. You’re actually quite good, though. Your jumping techniques are textbook perfect, you just need to practice more to land them well more often. You should see the horrible edges many skaters do. You’re one of the few who actually jump a Lutz with an outside edge.”

 “You saw my Lutz?”

 “I watched all the figure skating competitions.”

 Part of her wanted to kick him at the legs. For his arrogant tone. For thinking everyone else was beneath him. For thinking he had the right to access her like that. For speaking as though she wasn’t aware her jumps were perfect, thank you very much. 

 Part of her was stunned that Yin Nezha found her good enough to train with him. 

 The thing was, as much as Rin hated to admit, it was an extremely tempting offer. It meant better sleep schedules, less stress in renting arenas and less fatigue on her body. Training alone was indeed more exhausting than she would’ve liked to admit. Nezha’s words did make sense. She would be an utter idiot to turn this down.

 But she still didn't want to give him the satisfaction of accepting too easily.

 "Maybe. I'll consider it."

 "You can come as soon as tomorrow, if you make up your mind." 

 She elected to ignore and retie up her boot laces, head bowed down.

 "I do hope you come."

 When she looked up, he was gone.

 That was how Yin Nezha started to sneak in in her life.

 “So how’s training with Nezha?”

 “I don’t train with him,” she said crossily. “I use half of the rink and he uses the other half. That’s different.”

 "I think he begs to differ."

 Rin rolled her eyes. "Your friend's delusional."

 Kitay might be her best friend, but sometimes Rin wished he didn't have that too-knowing smile on his face more often than necessary. 

 When she first came during Nezha's training hours, he beamed at which she shot a glare that said Not a word.

 Neither of them interacted much during the first few days; he would give her a nod when he saw her which she would return if she was in a good mood. They would take turns playing each other's program music. Otherwise, they kept their boundaries.

 But it didn’t mean Rin wasn’t hyper aware of him. She was more tense than usual during her practice, feeling as though his eyes were following her every step. On the good side, she thought it did benefit them both—she was somehow more determined than before, not only to beat herself but to beat him. In what, she didn’t know, but she knew she really didn’t want to fall on her triple Axels any more.

 It was an awkward, stiff tension that somehow didn't clash.

 Until it did.

 That was, till Nezha started talking to her again.

 “What’s your favorite element?”

 The unexpected approach and question threw her off; she forgot she was ignoring him.

 “Step sequence.” Then, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say, “What’s yours?”

 “Spins. I love the variations of poses.”

 “Right.”

 The conversation left her confused but not uncomfortable. The similar thing kept repeating.

 "What's your favorite jump?"

 "Which jump did you land first?"

 "Spread eagle or ina bauer?"

 "Who's your favorite retired skater?"

 "So… where did you learn figure skating?"

 Rin glanced at him, confused. "What?"

 "I thought Speer didn't have any figure skating history."

 She kicked at the ice, sending splinters of it across the surface. "And that deters me from learning figure skating?"

 "Not necessarily, but you get what I mean."

 "Why do you ask?"

 "You defeated Nikan's best prodigy in the Junior World's. Of course I'm curious."

 “Maybe I’m simply more talented.”

 “You can’t possibly think I would believe that.”

 “Excuse me?”

 “Oh, not that―” Nezha’s face paled. “I didn’t mean it like that―"

 "No, because you can't possibly believe a girl who came from a figure skating wasteland defeated the rest of the world, can you?" 

 "Like—I mean, it's not like we couldn't help but be surprised—we never expected you to be good. Unlike Speer, Nikan has an excellent training program, been following it for years. You guys don't even have proper ice rinks. Speer doesn't have a place in figure skating."

 That felt like a slap to her face. A momentary blankness, then embarrassment and fury churned inside her chest. 

 "You know what?” she said coldly. “I heard about you before. I do know you. You think you're already a star in this sport, breaking junior world records, you think of bringing Nikan the glory on your shoulders. You think yourself so good that you don’t even know how arrogant you sound."

 Nezha's eyes widened. "What?"

 "You had your own personal arena to train all by yourself since you were young, you have support from your figure skating federation, and you think this sport belongs to you."

 Shit. She didn't mean to say all that. But once words left her mouth, they felt good. It felt good seeing Nezha’s stricken expression. It felt good throwing his privilege at his face, knowing he can’t deny it.

 “Well, I’m sorry but figure skating is my sport as much as it’s yours. I intend to stay here. And I intend to be the best, so learn to fucking live with it.”

 Unexpected tears sprung at the back of her eyes, but she forced them back. Giving him one last glare, she gave herself a push and skated away. 

 Unfortunately, she heard him follow. 

 "Rin, look, I didn't mean it that way."

 She closed her eyes in frustration. "What else could you have possibly meant?"

 "I meant that, I’ve seen you practice for weeks now, you practice harder than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

 She snorted. "My practice makes up for my lack of talent and history and excellent training programs, then?" For some reason, this stung her more than it should've. Nezha's words should mean nothing to her.

 "No, I meant, you do have natural talent—anyone with eyes can see it. But your practice exceeds the extent of your potential. Talent can only take you so far, you know."

 Rin said nothing.

 “You're right. I do have privilege. But I don’t think I’m better than you. I’ve seen you compete. You’re already one of the best among the new skaters.”

 She couldn’t think of a proper response. “I don’t need your validation.”

 “I know you don’t. I just hope you know I don’t mean any ill harm. I’m sorry if I sounded obnoxious.”

 At last, she turned her head to look at him. His words sounded genuine, as well as the expression on his face. 

 “Fine. Just, watch your words next time.”

 “I will.”

 She bit the inside of her cheek, contemplating. “I’m sorry, too. For shouting.”

 “It’s okay." He gave a half-hearted laugh. "Been awhile since anyone shouted at me, anyway. Someone had to do it.”

 One day, he approached her before their training hours ended.

 "Want a bet?"

 Rin paused in the middle of retying her hair. "What kind?"

 "All five triple jumps—Salchow, Lutz, Flip, Toe Loop, and Loop in a row. First one to succeed wins."

 Rin narrowed her eyes. "Add the Axel."

 "Are you sure about that?"

  She finished her ponytail and shrugged off her training jacket. "I'll go first."

 Without hearing his answer and tossing her jacket over the fence, she skated away. Crisscrossing on the ice, she gathered her thoughts; Salchow first, and then a Flip and a Lutz, Axel, then Loop and a Toe Loop.

 The first three jumps were a breeze. Nezha picked the wrong day, she thought, smug. She was in top condition today. She took a breath and jumped on the Axel. She couldn’t help a small screech as her foot landed clean. She also heard a whoop of congratulations on the other side of the rink, and although she tried not to, Rin felt her face turn and grin at his direction.

 Rin would never admit this to him, but she had been secretly studying his triple Axel. She got all his competition footage and replayed his jumps in slow motion a million times. It was actually the most helpful guide she ever had.

 Unfortunately, due to her over-elation in landing the triple Axel, she stumbled in the landing of the Loop.

 "Deduction on the Loop," he called when she was near enough.

 She scowled. "Your turn."

 Rin watched with more apprehension than she would’ve liked to admit as Nezha took the ice. His Axel height was enormous and he added a twizzle at the landing as a flourish, which made her scowl deepen. But she bit back her laugh when she saw him stumble on the Lutz.

 "You know," she said as he finished his jumps and skated back, “Two foot landing won’t look good on your score sheet.”

 “Lutz is my nemesis,” Nezha shook his head. "Draw?"

 Rin couldn't help a smile threatening to twitch upon her face. "Draw."

 That was nearly five years ago. Although their first meeting was not a pleasant memory (and rude and arrogant, as Rin constantly reminded him), she knew she wouldn't change the way they got close. He was an excellent figure skater, a good training partner, a good motivator for herself as well, and, well, a good friend.

 And if she realized she liked him far more than as a friend sometime a year or two ago, well, that was nobody's concern.

 Nezha's unfortunate lottery put him in the last spot to compete, which meant the Olympic podium would be decided with him. Rin hoped it didn't affect him much—both of them hated skating last, but Nezha seemed pretty unbothered by it yesterday, or tried to seem like it.

 The second to last skater was Nezha's biggest rival and one of the high favorites for the gold medal—the Hesperian guy. Rin made a face when his name was announced.

 "Pray that he steps on a hole or a crack every time he jumps," she whispered under her breath.

 Neither of her friends caught the chance to reply as his music started. Rin hissed every time he jumped but to her absolute horror, he didn’t fall.

 Not a single time. Not even a stumble.

 The roaring crowd’s applause at the end of the performance sounded like a funeral march to her ears. Rin sat stock still as the scores came up and the roaring went even louder. 

 Currently in first place.

 "Can Nezha win?" Venka's quick voice somehow reached her brain. "Can he still come first?"

 Rin chewed the inside of her bottom lip, thinking fast. "They both have the same number of quad jumps and almost similar technical elements, but Nezha has an extra triple Axel while the Hesperian has a triple Lutz, so Nezha has a higher base value. And Nezha's ahead in the short program, however small, so if he keeps his head together and pulls off a clean show with decent PCS, then yes he still has a fair chance."

 "I never thought that guy would pull through with a clean."

 "Me either." Rin didn't doubt Nezha's abilities, but to pull a program with zero mistakes in the Olympics after his biggest rival had his season's best score was daunting for anyone. Not to mention the fucking inflated PCS scores. Honestly, almost nonexistent transitions and skating skills and edges, yet they threw around a score of 9 like candy. One might think just landing jumps was the only thing about figure skating. The Hesperians had a gorilla grip on ISU, it was so fucking corrupted that Rin felt like screaming.

 Nezha had to pull clean.

 “Hey.”

 Her eyes snapped to find Nezha’s peering at her midst the people scattered around her. “What are you doing here?”

 “Just ran down to check. Are you okay?”

 “Yes,” she said immediately. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

 “Your hand is shaking.”

 Rin slowly clenched her fists. “I’m fine.”

 “Hey. Look at me.”

 She froze as he forced her chin up and made her meet his eyes. Almost a year since they met, and now they were both entering their first Senior World Championships. The sound of cameras, the press, the larger, much louder crowd than the Junior’s filled her eardrums. Yet they did nothing to drown the sound of her thudding heartbeat. It kept on beating a bit too fast.

 “You’ll do fine.”

 Part of her was more than grateful, but her pride was bigger, and more spiteful. “I know I will. I don’t need you to tell me.”

 Nezha rolled his eyes and dropped his hands. “Of course. Why did I even bother?” Before she could reply, he merged into the crowd, out of the warm up room and out of her sight. Strange feeling erupted inside her as she stared uneasily at the spot where he disappeared. Part of her wanted him back, to have him supporting her. Having him near would feel like this was another training, not the biggest competition of the season. Maybe it would lessen the trembles that went through her entire body.

 A larger part of her scolded herself. She didn’t need him. He was just a training partner. He was being noisy. She would do fine. She would be perfectly fine.

 "God, do you see this bullshit?"

 “Hello to you too,” Nezha said, closing the door behind him. “What are you doing on the floor?”

 All around her hotel room, she had two laptops and one tablet surrounding her, papers haphazardly screwed on the ground, and the sound of two commentators mixing from two different screens complemented the chaos that filled the room.

 Rin waved her paper in front of Nezha's face as he sat down next to her.

 "I've rescored last year's Worlds, our first Senior Worlds, fucking fair and square, and look, this guy shouldn’t have podiumed at all, much less steal your silver. They completely ignored his wrong edge in the Lutz, gave him level four on that hideous step sequence, and a higher GOE than you for the triple Axel.”

 He took the paper from her hands, a smirk coming up his face.

 “The Grand Prix Season literally starts next week, and you did all this for me? How very touching.”

 “Don’t be disgusting. I did the women's first and I got bored and did the men’s, too.”

 Rin saw Nezha’s eyes quickly scan the paper, then look up. “You deserved the bronze, too. I’m sorry.”

 “Don’t. Just, say something shitty about ISU, quick.”

 “And this is why you urgently called and demanded my presence?”

 She scowled. “I needed to rant it out.”

 “Of course you did.”

 “God, shut up, aren’t you mad? Our first Senior World Championships and they're already robbing us like shit.”

 “It’s not like I wasn't aware of it before.”

 Rin tossed her paper away and fell back on the ground, glaring at the ceiling. “Yeah, but actually physically seeing the evidence sucks.”

 “I know.”

 “I hate ISU.”

 “I know.”

 “I hate politics ruining our efforts.”

 “I know.”

 “Why are we in this goddamn sport again?”

 Nezha’s reply was fast. “You love skating.”

 Her head turned toward him, brows raised. His cheeks flushed. 

 “From my observation.”

 “We all love skating,” she said slowly. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have started it.”

 He gave the barest shrug. “I tolerate it.” Abruptly, he stood up and held out his hand. “Come on, rescoring shit won’t help you jump that Axel next week.”

 Rin gave a loud, exaggerated sigh but accepted his hand to pull her up. "But I might expose and overthrow ISU so that we do get the valid points we deserve."

 "You're not actually planning on it, are you?"

 "Why not?"

 He shook his head, an amused smile on his face. "You're certainly a damn pain in the ass to ISU. I bet they hate you."

 “So very much.”

 Rin watched the scenery outside the window blur as the plane got ready for take off. She’d snagged the window seat, as she always did. She wanted to believe that she was faster than anyone to do so, but she was starting to suspect that Nezha was simply letting her.

 “Are you nervous?”

 She kept her gaze fixed on the window. Nikan was getting tinier. “We’re about to enter a competition that’s only held once in four years that we cannot guarantee whether we’d be able to compete in the next one. No, I’m not nervous.”

 She felt a warm hand settle lightly above her left. She froze. But she didn’t pull away, which must have encouraged him to carefully turn her hand and let their fingers loosely link. After a beat, she let her hand give his a slight squeeze. 

 Neither acknowledged the gesture, yet they held onto each other during the entire flight. It was the comfort that only they could give the other. No one else truly understood what they were going through.

 “This year’s World Championship Silver Medalist, Fang Runin!”

 Later on, Rin couldn’t recall her third World Championships medal ceremony much―just flashes of moments, bowing and waving to the crowd, standing on the podium, accepting the medal with a forced smile on her face. Trying not to glare at the flags and trying not to cry. She wasn’t going to fucking cry in front of the cameras.

 She figured she held back pretty well, considering the amount of time it took for the press to take the pictures till they were satisfied and the torrent of interviews that followed where she kept on repeating what she said over and over and over. No, her body is fine, there’s no injury. No, there was nothing wrong with the ice. She just popped a jump and fell on one. Was there pressure after the lead in the short program? No. Maybe. Did she think she was underscored? Next question.

 Her tears made their appearance the moment she stepped into the athlete bus and the rest of the world was finally blocked from her view. 

 Rin didn't bother stopping them, but she didn't cry out loud either. She just let them drop.

 She switched on her phone and immediately regretted it. It’s okay, it’s a silver, you’d do better next time, anybody can make a mistake, there’s always next year.

 She turned off her phone, ignoring the missed calls. Kicked off her shoes, pulled her legs to her chest and stared at the city outside which was blurry through her tears.

 She wished Kitay were here. He always knew what to say.

 But no, she was alone. The only person who came with her during the competition was the World Champion in Men’s competition, and she doubted he was here. Probably still busy celebrating his win with his team. She didn’t blame him. 

 Which was why she was more than startled when she saw a familiar figure as she arrived at her hotel.

 Million thoughts flashed across her head but her immediate conclusion was that she wasn't in the mood to talk to him; whether he would brag or gloat or give her comfort she didn't know—but she found that she wanted none of those.

 She lingered in the bus, busying herself by taking time gathering her things; she hoped he could've come for someone else, maybe a coach or whoever, but when she stepped out of the bus last, she found him still standing.

 "I don't need your pity," she snapped.

 "I didn't come for that."

 “Whatever.” She pushed past him, trying to duck her face and hide her tear stained cheeks. 

 “Rin―”

 “Let me go.” She wrenched her arm off him. 

 "Just let me say—"

 "You don't have to say anything, I just want to be alone—"

 "Rin, stop. I came to congratulate you."

 She blinked, startled.

 Realization came crashing down.

 She wasn’t upset that she got a silver. Her failure was her own failure, and there was nothing she could do about it. She hadn’t realized what made her upset was how everyone around her—her coaches, parents, fans, the press—was saying that it was okay, there was always next year and next competitions. 

 She wanted to get congratulated, she wanted praise, she got a fucking goddamn silver and yes, she could’ve gotten the gold if she hadn't been so fucking stupid and popped the Lutz and fell on the Axel, but she still was on the podium, wasn't she? That was an achievement, right?

 Everyone, and everything, including herself, made her feel insecure, incomplete.

 “What?”

 “I had to do a press interview and I couldn’t be there today, I’m sorry.”

 She averted her eyes. “You didn’t have to, anyways. Nothing worth the watch.”

 “Watching you skate is worth the watch every time.”

 She opened her mouth, a lump closed around her throat.

 "Congratulations on your medal," he said, his voice softer than Rin ever imagined. "You worked so hard for it, I know."

 Tears brimmed her eyes. “God, fuck you.”

 She let him pull her to him and felt the tears stream down but hid her face in his chest. Sobs she held back for the entire night broke through and yet this was the first time that she didn't feel like collapsing forever since she finished her performance.

 “No, he definitely likes you.”

 Rin licked the ice cream from her spoon. “Don’t be disgusting.”

 “It’s so fucking obvious, how do you not see it?”

 Despite the results of her season—extremely unsatisfying—the end of it was still more liberating and her favorite time of the year. For some period of time, she could eat whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. Which was why she was currently inhaling a huge scoop of chocolate ice cream with Kitay. She put another spoonful inside her mouth and savored the way it melted on her tongue.

 “He’s a friend.”

 Kitay rolled his eyes. “Rin, I’ve known him since we were kids, and he never had a crush this bad.”

 “You’re reaching.”

 "Then why does he wait till your training's finished so that you two can walk back to your rooms together?"

 "Friends do that. Lots of teammates also do it."

 "Why does he make sure steamed buns are always left for you during lunch when you're running late?"

 "He knows I love them. It would be rude not to do it."

 "Why does he stare at you all the fucking time?"

 "He doesn't."

 "I swear he popped at least half of his jumps the last time you two trained together."

 "Why are you blaming his incompetence on me?"

 “And you like him too.”

 “I don’t.”

 “Don’t bother lying to me.”

 "I don't. He's a close friend, yes. But he's still an asshole."

 "Whatever you say, Rin."

 They were both getting closer to 19 now, and she was still far from achieving all of her career goals. She had no time to spare for emotions, so she shoved them down.

 Season break also meant they were able to spend more free time on the ice.

 Rin leaned back against the fence, staring at the small crowd huddled around Nezha. He was giving friendly advice to young skaters, who seemed nervous around him. But Nezha was surprisingly good with kids, Rin found. He was demonstrating how to do the basic spins and all those curious eyes followed his every step. His face lost its tension that usually lasted throughout all season, and now he smiled more often than not. It accentuated his beautiful face.

 Did she like him?

 She almost jumped at her own thought. She quickly looked around as though to check if someone had heard the voice inside her head. Shit.

 "Looking for someone?"

 This time she did jump, slipped and almost fell on the ice before Nezha reached over and grabbed her arm. 

 "Whoa."

 "I'm fine." She shook off his hand with more force than necessary. He dropped it. 

 "Want to join in?"

 Rin looked over his shoulder to see the kids twirling around on the other side of the rink, giggling. "No."

 His face fell. "But I told them you would."

 "Better not make promises you can't keep, then."

 “Rin, come on, they love you.”

 “Did I ask? And no, they don’t.”

 Nezha gave a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Gotta go disappoint the kids, then.”

 “You do that.”

 He grinned at her, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

 Rin watched him skate away with an ache in her chest. She didn’t bother shoving it down. She tried it before, and knew it was in vain.

 “Is he okay? I mean, obviously he isn’t, but…”

 Rin clenched her left fist, released it, and let out a long, slow breath. “I don’t know. I hope so,” she said to her phone.

 Kitay’s voice was shaking. “It’s not a common thing to happen, is it?”

 “No. Definitely not.”

 Tonight was the worst Grand Prix Final she had ever experienced, and that was saying something. 

 It was supposed to be great. She had finally won her first Grand Prix Final, and it was Nezha’s night to win his of the season. Rin was hoping both of them would leave the place as winners of the night. Everything was sailing smoothly. Half nervous but more excited, she had been watching the men’s warm up on the ice in the stands when it happened.

 Nezha was skating back with quite a speed, preparing for a Lutz when Rin saw another skater skating toward his line as well, on his back so neither of them could see the other approaching. Nezha seemed to have sensed something wrong, for he turned, yet there wasn’t enough time to slow down his speed when both skaters realized that collision was inevitable.

 Before she had caught up on what was happening, she screamed.

 Rin ran down.

 The last scene she saw was Nezha on the ice, unmoving, and the image burned in the back of her mind. By the time she arrived, out the stands and inside the arena, she saw the medic had arrived and was helping him stand. Her heart burst with relief when she saw he could hold himself up but dropped when she saw the blood trickling down his face.

 There was a lot of blood.

 She stood there, frozen, hating herself for not being able to move but she couldn’t think of a single thing she could do to help. His coach was there, holding him and he stumbled out from the ice. The medic was talking to him, asking him questions and he was replying something she couldn't hear. 

 The other skater was clearly injured as well, both of them suffering from the impact of the collision. Rin couldn’t possibly fathom how much in pain they both were. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. 

 Nezha didn’t seem to register that she was there. Instead he raised his hand and touched his forehead, staring blankly at the blood on his fingertips.

 “Nezha…” she whispered.

 At last, her voice seemed to carry above the noise. He looked up.

 Injury wasn’t a foreign concept as a figure skater. Both of them practically lived with it. But this wasn’t the usual kind of injury.

 “Bad collision,” he muttered the answer to her unspoken question. “It’s okay, I’m fine now.”

 "You have to check if you have a concussion," the medic said. He started wrapping Nezha's head with a bandage. "This is temporary, you might need stitches."

 "Can I still compete?"

 "Absolutely fucking not!"

 Rin's voice came out louder and higher than she thought.

 "I can stand." As if to prove his point, he used the wall as support and stood up, although Rin could see his legs shaking and his face twisting in pain, one arm clutching his abdomen. "I can skate."

 "You stop him," she snapped at Nezha's coach. "He's in no state to compete."

 "It's my choice."

 His coach hesitated. "Your health comes first, Nezha."

 "Exactly, he's right, Nezha—"

 "But it's your choice. It’s up to you. I support whatever you decide."

 "I can't believe all of you," she said. 

 Nezha's eyes looked tired but they met her eyes with stubbornness that she knew was as strong as hers. "I thought you of all people would understand."

 "Your face is fucking bleeding!"

 "And that would've stopped you from competing?"

 "Yes."

 “Easy for you to say,” he said through gritted teeth. “You won the Final already.”

 “You won last year!”

 “And that has nothing to do with this year’s Grand Prix Finals!”

 "Would you stop being so fucking impossible?"

 "It's my choice. Why do you even fucking care?"

 Rin flinched.

 "You know what?" she said. "Fine. Go ahead. Ruin your entire career by forcing your body to go through hell in a competition you already won before. You're right, I couldn't care less whatsoever. Why the fuck should I?"

 Swallowing down whatever lump formed in her throat, she stormed out of the scene. Where should she go? Back to her hotel? Leave? But when she reached the entrance, she found that she couldn’t. 

 Rin ended up standing half hidden behind the doors as she watched him skate, hands clenched into fists and nails digging into her palm. Out of 7 jumps, Nezha fell on 4 and stepped out on one and succeeded in 2. Miraculously, his wide lead in the short program managed to land him in third place.

 She fucking hated him so much.

 They didn't talk or see each other. Not even after Nezha had checked in with his doctor and thankfully was not diagnosed with a concussion; he was however diagnosed with other multiple injuries and received stitches. Rin got the news through Kitay who, exasperatedly, repeatedly, said she should go talk to him herself if she was so worried. 

 “I’m not speaking to him.”

 “Too bad, he wants to speak with you.”

 “I don’t give a fuck.”

 “I think you do.”

 The following weeks were the longest she’d gone without talking to Nezha since she’d met him.

 Rin didn’t realize how big of a part Nezha had taken upon in her life, until she started actively avoiding him. That meant she didn’t wait for him to go to practice, she went alone. She found other athletes or coaches to have lunch with. When she practiced, she talked to no one. When she stretched and ran laps, she didn’t have anyone to compete or bet against, so she bet against herself.

 It wasn’t like she had to work hard to avoid him. With his frequent treatment for his injuries, he hardly had time to corner her. Once she ignored all his calls and texts, he seemed to have given up as well. 

 Or so she thought. 

 Approximately a month later, she found the entrance to the ice rink blocked by someone. 

 Rin didn't see him at first; she was too busy checking the time and half running to the arena that she didn't register a figure standing half hidden in shadows. Not until the figure was right in front of her and she glanced up to see his face. She felt her eyes widen, too surprised to hide her shock.

 After one prolonged second of eye contact, she dropped her gaze down to his chest, scowling. God, he was ridiculously taller than her. They were both similarly built when they first met, but the moment they entered their senior years, he started growing like mad. She knew she couldn’t escape him if he set his mind on cornering her, so Rin chose to be silent and ignore his existence.

 “I’ve been waiting for you for the past half an hour.”

 She glared at the spot over his shoulder.

 “Rin?”

 “Training started 20 minutes late today,” she said stiffly without looking up. “The ice resurfacer broke down last night and they said they’d fix it today.”

 “Rin.”

 “Get out of the way. I need to train.”

 “Come on, please, talk to me.”

 “I did just talk to you. Goodbye.”

 Nezha grabbed her arm before she could walk away. 

 “Please.”

 “Please what?” Sudden anger burst through her throat. “Please talk about what happened? Fine.” She pulled back her arm. “I can’t believe you were stupid enough to compete with your head bleeding, were you trying to ruin your life?”

 “I know my body condition better than you do, it was my choice―”

 “Your choice was fucking beyond stupid―”

 “You would have done the same!”

 “Don’t act like you know me.”

 “I do, alright? And I know that you were mad, and I am sorry about it, but not sorry about what I did.”

 “No.”

 “No what?”

 “You don’t know.” Her voice broke. "You have no fucking idea how terrified you made me. So don’t say that you do, because you don’t."

 A beat. Her heavy breaths filled the space between them. 

 Nezha's head bowed down. "I'm sorry."

 She wanted to stay mad at him, but she was exhausted by her own anger now. Had been for weeks.

 "Why did you do it?"

 His words were the same, yet softer this time. "You would've done the same."

 Rin knew that was true. Withdrawing before the competition started was one thing, withdrawing right before the free skate when the end was so fucking close was a different matter altogether. She knew she would've done the same, she'd always known, yet she was still mad at him. 

 She reached over, hesitated a bit, and ghosted her hand over his face. The swelling had settled down and the stitches would come off, soon, but it would leave a scar.

 "Does it hurt?"

 "No. Not anymore."

 "I'm sorry."

 He gave a short laugh. "It was just my bitter luck. I'm fine, Rin."

 "No, I'm sorry. For shouting at you."

 Something in his expression shifted. "I understand. I would've done the same."

 Whatever that implied, Rin decided to ignore it like she ignored everything else that went on between them. "When are you coming back to training?"

 "Miss me that much already?" He shut up at Rin's glare. "Joking, sorry—I probably need at least two more weeks of rest."

 "Good. By the time you come back, I will be able to beat you in the five consecutive triple jumps bet."

 "Oh, we'll see about that."

 And just like that, they were back to normal. Whatever normal between them was.

 Rin was more than certain that everyone in the arena could hear her heartbeat as Nezha stepped on the ice. The sparkles of jewels flashed before their eyes as Nezha circled the rink.

 Yes, she had been nervous during her own Olympics. But that was on her—she could force herself to make the jumps, she had the power to change it all. This time, she had to trust Nezha to do his part.

 The music that filled the arena was nothing against the ringing in her ears. She had memorized his entire program, knew it as well as she did her own. Her head visualized his next step every time Nezha finished one. 

 Her throat closed up for most parts but she found herself able to breathe as the first half of the program passed and Nezha had not made a single mistake. Distantly, she realized that as he entered his step sequence, the crowd had started to clap along with the music. 

 This was good. This was good. Some sense managed to drill its way to her head and she realized he was on his way for his gold. He was almost fucking there.

 Rin crossed her fingers and held both Kitay and Venka's hands as she saw Nezha glide across the ice for his final quad jump, the Toe Loop—don't trip, don't trip, don't trip, don't you dare trip—

 Rin's scream got buried under the applause of the crowd as Nezha skated gracefully into his final choreo sequence after the clean toe jump.

 She fell back in relief as she saw his program near the end. His steps were gorgeous as always, just the right turns with the musical notes, and even from far above she could see the deep edges of his skate. Just one final jump and a spin, and he would come clean and he would have a decent shot at the damn gold medal and she would finally talk to him and in the euphoria of the winning, maybe she might have the guts to say—

 The sharp inhale of breath in the crowd as Nezha jumped the final triple Axel cut through her stomach. She felt as though she was watching the world in slow motion; as he jumped she clearly saw that his axis was off, it shouldn’t be tilted like that, and a gasp escaped her mouth before he brain caught up what was happening.

 The triple Axel. The damn triple Axel. He passed through all the difficult quad jumps and he landed on his ass for the damn triple Axel.

 "What do you have a say on the rumors that you are dating Yin Nezha?"

 Rin was ever so grateful that she had already swallowed the water she was drinking, otherwise she would've sprayed the entire content all over the press conference desk. 

 "This is Post Grand Prix Finals press conference," she said after she put down her bottle of water.

 "And?" pressed the reporter.

 "And I would like to receive questions regarding my skating only," she said as coldly as she could. 

 Rin knew her replies afterward were all terse, repetitive and boring but she couldn't care less. As soon as they wrapped up the conference, she made her way out as fast as she could without seeming like she was running away.

 Fucking christ. Apparently, the video of her running to see him after his collision during warm up had gone viral and now rumors were circulating fast. Now everything from them training together often, being around each other in gala shows, waiting for the other in their respective competitions were suddenly the internet's favorite things to talk about. As soon as she was alone, she immediately searched for the Men press conference that took place earlier that day. Chewing her lip, she watched as the same person asked Nezha the same question.

 Nezha looked slightly taken aback, but he answered rather calmly: "I would say that it is not true, and would also like to add that the question is not appropriate for the current situation."

 Rin switched off her phone, threw it down her bed, buried her head on her pillow and stifled a scream.

 Her life was a fucking joke.

 Between them-not-dating and internet-thinking-they-are-dating and the press conference questions and Nezha's response and her feelings and her confusion and the terrified feeling she had when she saw him crash on the ice and Kitay's insistence that Nezha definitely liked her and her doubts and all in-between her fucking training and figure skating career made her want to die.

 Rin angrily, forcefully, shoved her right foot into her skating boots, even though she shouldn’t. But she was already here in the ice rink despite the fact she should be resting in her room, treating her ankle. She swore to her coach that she wouldn’t skate, she just needed to come. She needed to pretend that everything was alright just for the sake of it.

 Her ankle injury got so bad, it was impossible for her to walk without support, let alone skate. The World Championship was in two weeks.

 She could maybe skate, the doctor said, if she could recover fast. But she would have to risk any further aggravation on the ankle before it was fully healed. If she chose not to use her ankle for the next week, it meant no training, no pulling up her strength or gearing up her stamina. 

 In short, she would be risking her entire career on a single competition that she would be wholly less prepared for. 

 She waited for the tears to well up, ready to push them back with the force of her palm. But they didn't. She numbly stared at the empty ice rink, destitute of any emotion.

 It was so fucking unfair. She was in top form this season, she was flying. She won all the Grand Prix competitions and the Final. All that was left for her was to finally, finally get the World title. 

 Every single time during the biggest competition of the season, some stupid damn fate intervened—an injury, a problem with her skate blade before the competition, a less than a single point away and placed in second. Now this.

 She was too preoccupied searching through her thoughts that she didn’t realize someone was in the rink and walked up to her. She saw his feet first in her periphery with her head bowed down. She considered telling him to fuck off.

 "Hey."

 She said nothing.

 "Can I stay?"

 Rin gave a shrug. Nezha leaned on the fence next to her on the left.

 Words felt clumsy against the lump in her throat but she got them out. "What does it feel like?" 

 Nezha gave her a sideway glance. "What?"

 "Being a World Champion."

 Nezha had won two times in his career already. In other circumstances, she might have been too jealous to speak a word to him.

 "Do you want an honest answer?"

 "Yes."

 He huffed out a slow, long breath. "Amazing. I still remember the first time I won it. I remember standing on the podium. All the times that I trained, thought about giving up, wanted to give up, the first time I did a triple jump, the first time I did a quad, all the good and the bad… worth it. I remember thinking, this is what I've been working on for my whole life. And I have it."

 "You've won golds before."

 "Yes. But the World Championship feels… different."

 Yes, she thought bitterly. Biggest competition of the season, second only to the Olympics. Every skaters' goal.

 “Why are you here?”

 “I figured you’d be here.”

 “Oh, now you know me so well?”

 “I was right, wasn’t I?”

 She glared somewhere to her right, refusing to acknowledge him. But she didn’t tell him to fuck off, and that seemed enough for him to prompt his next words.

 “I’m sorry about the Worlds.”

 She whipped her head around. “Who says I’m not competing?”

 Nezha looked confused. “Rin, I know your ankle injury. It’s impossible to skate.”

 Impossible. Of course. She knew it, then why did it feel like a blow to the head?

 "You weren’t thinking of actually competing, were you?"

 Was that why she was here? To see if she could somehow skate with her busted ankle?

 "You are not possibly thinking of competing with injury?"

 "You did in the Grand Prix Final before."

 "That's different and you know it."

 She did. 

 "Rin, the Olympics is a fucking year away, you're so close. You need to focus on the next season, not this one."

 "I know."

 "In the end, the Olympics are bigger dreams than World Championships. I thought your choice would be obvious."

 Yes, it was. It should be. And yet.

 "The Olympics are more…"

 If the words came out, that meant she could no longer deny them. If they came out, she couldn’t put them back in.

 She felt a hand lightly cover her own. “Go on,” he said.

 Rin squeezed her eyes shut. "I feel overwhelmed. I… don't think I can win a gold in the Olympics if I can't in the Worlds."

 The confession felt too bitter on her tongue and she wanted to swallow it away. But once she started, all the worries that cramped up inside her head for days tumbled out beyond her control.

 "What if I get another injury and end up butching both the Worlds and the Olympics? What if I'm in the worst conditions possible next year? What if my team and I can't think of a better program than this year's one? What if—"

 "Rin. Stop, stop, stop."

 She stopped. Her breaths came out too fast and hard, as though she had finished her entire free program.

 God, what was she doing, dumping all of this on him? She must’ve lost it more than she thought. Her hands tightened on the fence, willing for the brief loss of self control to come back. 

 “Rin, please. Look at me.”

 An echo of his voice, the same words that pulled her through before her first World Championships, reached out. His gaze when it met hers was gentle.

 "You're an amazing skater."

 She looked away. "You're better."

 She always knew it—no matter how much she didn’t want to admit it, she always knew deep down.

 “That’s bullshit.”

 A shrug.

 “Remember when I asked you how you learned figure skating?”

 He had to be kidding. “You’re bringing that up now?”

 “I actually wanted to ask you when was the first time you skated.”

 “Wait. Really?”

 “Yes. I fucked up, as usual. So, when was it?”

 Rin traced her memory back slowly, even though she didn’t need to. The first time she had skated was embedded in her head, indelible against time.

 "I put on my skating boots for the first time at the age of four and never looked back."

 “See, that’s the difference between you and me.”

 “Which is?” She was way too aware of his hand on hers.

 “I did it because I had to. You do it because you want to. You love it, you love wanting to skate, you belong here because you chose to.” He shrugged almost nonchalantly. “I did love skating once, and I did love winning. But more often than not, I feel like I’m winning the golds for my parents, not for me.”

 At that, she glanced at him. In the dim light, the scar on his right face that never faded away since the incident at the Grand Prix Final looked more prominent.

 She wasn’t stupid, she knew part of his skating was forced by his family and their legacy. But hearing him say it out loud still felt jarring.

 “Can I tell you something?” said Nezha.

 “What if I say no?”

 “You’d want to hear it.”

 She let out a long breath. “Fine. What?”

 "If I bet my entire career into the damn Olympics next year, I'd bet on you."

 His words quirked up the corners of her lips despite everything. "Really?"

 "Really." He squeezed her hand once, then let go. The absence of it felt too cold. "I know it's your decision, and I won't judge you for anything, but if self doubt is the only thing clouding your mind…you're not on the right track of thinking, Rin."

 Rin took a breath. "Thank you."

 "Anytime."

 She smiled reluctantly. "Maybe you're not as bad as I thought."

 "Damn, I never thought I'd see this happening."

 She gave him a shove, but she meant what she said. When she first met him, both of them were 16, just starting senior levels, still full of ambition and competitiveness. Nezha's arrogance and snobbery were tampered down and dwindled as both of them met the harsher realities and higher tensions in the senior competitions, and she found that she liked this friendship.

 Both of their careers toughened them up too fast for someone in their early 20s, she thought. 

 "A deal, then."

 "What?"

 "We both become Olympic Champions next year."

 She saw the corners of his lips quirk upward. "Promise?"

 "Promise."

 "It's a deal then."

 “You’d better not break it.”

 “Oh, I won’t. I know how mad you get when I don’t keep a promise.” He offered her his hand. “You going?”

 Rin looked back at the empty ice rink. “You go ahead. I’ll just stay a bit longer.”

 She saw him nod and turn. She thought he was leaving when he suddenly stopped and faced her again. She frowned, about to ask him if he forgot something when he moved. Before she knew it, he was pulling her to him and she found herself caught in his embrace. She froze for a second, then relaxed into his hug. It was much warmer than she expected, and surprisingly comforting. The first and last time he hugged her, she was too busy crying to let herself really be aware what was happening. This time, she let herself hug him back.

 "Thank you," she murmured so quietly she thought he didn't hear her. But the squeeze of his arms told her that he did.

 The moment Rin stepped off the podium, she and the other medalists were swept away for photos and interviews so it was way after when she finally saw the people she cared the most.

 Her arms and legs were tired beyond anything, yet when she spotted Kitay, everything else seemed to vanish. She felt a grin stretch across her face as Kitay ran and engulfed her in a hug.

 With Kitay screaming "You're an Olympic Champion!" in her ears, Venka's arms squeezing them both, Rin felt either a sob or a laugh escape her mouth, unsure which. Through the midst of arms, she searched for a face. 

 When Kitay and Venka finally released her from their grips, Rin turned and there he was, grinning at her. She all but ran into his arms, feeling a burst of laughter escaping her mouth when Nezha picked her up from the ground and spun her around.

 "You're manhandling an Olympic Champion, put me down—"

 "You're an Olympic Champion in figure skating, you should be able to handle a few spins." But he did put her down, breathless. "God, I'm so happy for you."

 The burst of happiness that exploded in her chest was too overwhelming. She beamed up at him, the urge to pull him down for a kiss too much but too soon. Not yet. Not yet. 

 Rin saw his eyes travel down to the gold medal hanging on her neck. She reached over and placed the medal in his hands.

 Nezha's gaze flickered back to her face. "You won."

 Rin swallowed. "Your turn next week."

 "I'll try."

 "You will. You definitely will."

 Nezha gathered her up in his arms and Rin pressed her forehead against his shoulder and laughed, unable to contain the unbelievable joy coursing through her.

 Rin couldn’t recall the moments that passed after Nezha finished his free program. Couldn’t remember the moment when the score was announced, officially putting him in second place. She did remember staying silent, stiff, pointedly ignoring Kitay and Venka’s glances toward her. She also remembered not bothering to keep the scowl off her face.

 After the medal ceremony, the pictures were taken, the interviews pursued, Nezha finally stepped off the ice and was grinning at the three of them. Venka ran up to hug her childhood best friend and Nezha returned the hug with one arm as he greeted Kitay with the other.

 Rin hung back, arms folded.

 The smile on his face dropped when their eyes met. Rin figured the expression on her face wasn't quite friendly.

 "Problem?"

 The problem wasn’t that she didn’t have any words to say. The problem was that her insides were exploding with too many words, she didn’t know which one to say first. 

 "You—god, you're so—" Her hands twitched by her side. She didn't know whether she wanted to slap him or not.

 "Is something wrong?"

 The utter audacity. That lofty, arrogant voice was back and Rin wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him. She might have if he wasn't so taller than her and they weren't surrounded by people.

 "Is something wrong, you ask?" she hissed.

 Nezha quickly looked around, grabbed her arm before she could protest, and pulled them both to the warm up room, which was thankfully empty.

 He turned, and the exasperated expression on his face made her insides boil even hotter. It didn't help that she was in a simple training jacket attire while the jewels on the blue costume sparkled too brightly in the room. She felt too small. “What’s wrong with you?”

 “What’s wrong with me? What about you?”

 “What about me?”

 "How are you so calm!" She yelled. "You—god, you fucked up a jump you could do in your sleep—one you endlessly teased me about every single fucking time I failed—"

 She saw irritation flash across his face and guilt dropped inside her stomach. What the fuck was she doing? She should congratulate him, he got a silver despite everything else. If anyone was upset here, it was him. If anyone knew that they had no control over competitions, that mistakes and slips and completely unexpected outcomes always interfered in their fate, it was her. It should be her.

 She had no right to be mad at him, yet she was. She was utterly fucking furious. A part of her didn’t care that it wasn’t fair to him.

 "Do you want me to be sad?" His voice turned cold. "Do you want me to be miserable, that I didn't win a gold but you did? Is that what you want?"

 No. No, that was the opposite of what Rin wanted. She needed him to win the gold because this was Nezha. The one she had held onto during the dark moments in her life, during her training. She had her family and friends, but nobody understood, not truly, except him, a fellow skater who actually experienced what she was going through. She needed him to win the gold so that she could congratulate him and not sound the slightest bit of condescending over the fact that she won a gold. She needed him to win the gold so that the euphoria might finally bring up her courage, that Nezha wouldn’t mind her company, that maybe she could finally kiss him and everything would be alright. She needed him to win the gold because if she hadn't and Nezha had, and he kissed her afterwards, she wouldn't have felt happy about it at all. No, she would've thought he was mocking her.

 She wanted him to feel happy about it.

 "I needed you to win the gold so that—"

 Rin stopped herself.

 "What?"

 She shook her head, looking away, furiously blinking back her sudden tears. This was so fucking stupid.

 "What, Rin?"

 "It's stupid, I'm sorry I acted that way. I—I'm happy for you, I really am, I just didn't think. I'm sorry."

 She tried to side step around him, but he effectively blocked her path.

 "Rin, don't—"

 "People are waiting for you, we should go—"

 "I don't want to go out feeling like this."

 "I'm sorry, okay? You should enjoy your day, it's a big achievement, and I'm sorry I messed it up. Please let me go."

 She tried to take another step toward the door only for him to shoot his arm forward and prevent her from it. She stifled back a scream.

 "Tell me what's wrong," he said. "I don't think I can be happy tonight if you're acting like this and I don't know the reason. And I want to be happy tonight. Rin, please."

 Her eyes darted back to the door but Nezha had caught her gaze and now fully stood between her and her gate to freedom. Shit.

 "I…"

 What was she supposed to say? Definitely not the truth. So she had to make up a story, and fast, and make it believable. Her mouth opened, prepared to say some idiotic shit about how she had made a bet with someone else and now she lost it due to his utter incompetence, so he owed her shit ton of money.

 "I can't kiss you."

 Nezha's brows shot upward. "I beg your pardon?"

 Words stumbled out incoherently. "It's just that—if you'd won the gold and I did too, then we would both be happy and it wouldn't mean anything else other than that, but now that I won the gold and you didn't, I don’t know, I thought you would think like I was mocking you, or, like, it wouldn’t be happy enough and you wouldn’t like it and I—” Rin stopped as soon as she realized what was coming out of her mouth. Shit.

 Nezha’s expression didn’t change much. She frankly wished this was all a simple nightmare and she would wake up before the humiliation was too big for her. She closed her eyes shut firmly for a couple of seconds and opened them. Well fuck. She wasn't dreaming.

 All she wanted, and pictured, and wished was for both of them to be Olympic Champions like they promised and walk away grinning and celebrating, and now everything was ruined.

 “I’ll leave,” she murmured, dropping her gaze. Fuck. She fucked up, she fucked up everything, she was so fucking stupid, she couldn’t fucking believe she just said that, let her heart out that easily, fuck the Olympics, fuck the Olympics—

 Nezha grabbed her arm and spun her around before she could reach the door.

 "I have a solution."

 She felt her eyebrows furrow. "You're going to expose ISU and the corruption and show how the gold medalist was overscored as shit?"

 "No—I mean, that doesn't sound like a bad idea, but no."

 "Too bad. I have a wholeass essay in my head to expose them."

 He gave a short laugh. "I know you do." His eyes flickered away, and then back at her. If she didn't know better, she would've thought he was nervous.

 "Okay, so. What if I kiss you, then? I didn't win the gold, so I'm definitely not mocking you since you won it."

 Rin's head was still spinning, but somehow his words did seem to make sense. Or did she just want him to make sense? "I… guess?"

 Nezha didn't waste another second. His hands rose to tilt her face up and Rin didn't have a second to process the change of situation before he was kissing her. 

 He was soft, gentle and ever so careful that she could hardly comprehend what was happening. By the time her brain caught up that she was actually kissing Nezha, he pulled away. Far enough to meet her eyes but close enough for her to feel his shaky breath.

 "Well?" He whispered.

 Rin swallowed. Her breath was shallow. "I still can't believe you fell on the Axel."

 Nezha gave a short, surprised laugh. "I can't believe it either."

 "It's karma, you know. For you laughing your ass off when I failed the day you saw me."

 "For the record, I didn't laugh my ass off."

 "You did."

 Nezha grinned, and Rin couldn't help the flutter in her chest. "Fine. It was karma biting my ass." He gathered her up in his arms and pulled her even closer, lips brushing her cheek. "But I got to kiss you now, so I guess it evens out for me."

 His lips barely touched hers again when the sound of door slamming open echoed through the room.

 "Nezha, the press is looking for you—"

 Rin stumbled back in surprise as her head whipped around to catch Kitay's eyes, which were dancing with merit.

 "Fucking finally, you two?" 

 She glared at her best friend. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

 "Everyone's looking for Nezha. You should be glad it was me and not some random reporter."

 “He’s right, I should go.” Nezha’s lips lingered on her cheek for one brief second. “Wait for me, would you?”

 He hurried past Kitay before she could answer. The door shut with a click and she was alone with a grinning Kitay. 

 “Not a word,” she said darkly.

 “About what?”

 "Shut up."

 "Never."

 "If I hear 'I told you so', that's going to be the last word you ever say—"

 "I told you so."

 Rin lunged but Kitay had already opened the door and was running out. Rin immediately chased after him, trying to stay mad but she couldn't help the burst of laughter escaping her mouth, and she was unbelievably happy.

  Our next skater, representing Speer, Fang Runin!

 Rin skated across the ice under the applause of the audience, letting out deep breaths. 

 This was it. Her Olympic moment.

 Strangely, as nervous as she was, she felt excitement coursing through her. The whole world was watching, and she was determined to prove herself to everyone tonight. This time, she was prepared. She wanted to show the world what she could do.

 She knew that somewhere along the audience, her friends—Kitay, Venka and Nezha were silently cheering her on. 

 A smile twitched upon her face as she stood still in the middle of the ice rink in her starting pose and waited for her music to start.