Chapter Text
Prelude
"You will never be as good as her."
"It's a pity that she's a lesser skater than her mother."
"Perhaps we expected too much from her."
Nahida dispelled the thoughts, the echoes of people's voices, the ghosts that plagued the corners of her mind, by putting on her earphones, which were singing a playlist that told the story of her life. They were the songs that accompanied her for years, the ones that took her hand and twirled her on ice as she danced in the rhythm of her heart that beat for the love she held for figure skating. They accompanied her in an empty rink as she glided in solitude and into the brightly lit stages where spotlights and applauds resounded in celebratory cheer. They were the songs that defined her career, hopes, and dreams.
They painted a picture of a flower on ice,
Of a flower that never bloomed as beautifully as the one she was snapped off from,
Her mother.
Rukkhadevata was a well-known skater loved by the people for her grace and skill. Whenever she stepped on the ice rink, she brought tales with her and told them through the elegant expressions of her movements and face, her every glide and spin in harmony with the music as she weaved stories that she shared with her audience's hearts. She was a flower admired by all, earning a shower of warm applause and roses after finishing a performance. Throughout her career, she received numerous medals, as well as the respect of the figure skating world.
But even a well-loved rose could wilt and crumble away.
More than two decades ago, she had given birth to a child at the expense of her own life. She had left a seed, a young girl who was a splitting image of her whom she nourished with all the love she could give and bestowed with a wish for a bright future before she perished.
But that very wish, the legacy she left behind, was what ended up hindering that child.
Nahida had done everything she could. Inheriting her mother's love for ice skating, she had worked hard to learn how to skate, offering most of her days to practice and studies of fundamental skills. Whenever she saw her mother skate from videos, her desire to chase her burned anew, hoping that someday, she could walk in her footsteps and reach the podium she once stepped on so that she, too, could feel what it felt like to be bathed in the adoration of people for her hard work. But it seemed that with every step she took, that place grew farther and farther away until it was well beyond her capacity for running.
She was once called a genius, a golden star in the skating world.
At four years old, she could skate better than other kids above her age. At five, she was able to do spins and jumps. At six, she was able to win her first competition. Everyone had their eyes on her, seeing a second Rukkhadevata who would continue her legacy on the ice. They waited for her to bloom into a dazzling and one-of-a-kind flower, only to be met with disappointment with how average she turned out to be. A plain white rose, beautiful but not unique enough to stand out. It did not help that she reached a particular stage and was stuck, unable to move forward from the hole she had fallen into.
One might be called a genius when they became spectacular and bright at a young age. Still, when they reached seventeen years old without being able to offer anything extraordinary, people would lose interest in them, and they would become classified as average.
Nahida would have settled for average, but she could not even be called average at her current age and a streak of losing five tournaments in a row. It was abysmal. She was flunking, and she did not even know how to solve it.
Maybe she was tired of living in the shadow of her mother, hearing the harsh critics of experts and non-skaters about her performances, and beating herself over and over as to why she was not improving.
So she decided to quit.
She resigned from figure skating, putting it to rest, despite others her age just beginning to soar in their field.
But she had gotten past all these grievances. It took her years of seeking help and working on self-acceptance to finally get over the things that were out of her control or reach. She was in a better space now. The problem, however was that she lacked a destination. The path of figure skating was not hers to take; she accepted that long ago. But if it was all she ever knew and loved, where could she possibly jump to?
As the bus she was on continued rolling forward, her eyes clung on to the pile of snow on the side of the road, reminding her of the soft snowfall that she watched the other day through her bedroom's window, which fell like confetti drizzling over the ice rink as the crowd cheered–
She shook her head.
Even now, all she could think of was ice skating. Even after all the heartache she went through because of it, she still held love for it deep inside her. Still, even if these feelings inside her were still present, that did not mean they were meant to be with each other.
She sighed. Maybe she should go back to school and study to open up new career paths. But for now, she would relish a dance with the past.
Stepping out of the bus, she adjusted the bag and walked towards a familiar path leading to a little corner in the woods, a safe haven she had not visited for years.
The crunch of the snow sinking under her steps was loud in the empty forest. Several years ago, a younger Nahida would run along these same tracks, her face full of glee and excitement at what awaited her once the trees thinned out to reveal a place only she and the birds hopping on the branches knew.
Her personal ice rink.
Whenever winter came, a lake in the middle of the woods became frozen, making it the perfect practice area for a skater like her who wanted to escape from the prying eyes of people who were seeing her mother in her image.
A distant tune made Nahida stop in her tracks. Listening more closely, she could make out an unfamiliar melody humming from a place deeper in the forest. Curious if somebody had claimed her safe haven while she was away, she hastened her steps and followed the guidance of the drifting music.
It led her to a scene she would never forget.
Atop the frozen lake, a young man was performing not just a simple dance but an expression of the soul.
Indigo hair with lighter streaks fluttered as the man flew across the ice like a bird gliding in the sky. Bluish purple irises shimmered with emotions as they gazed at the sky as if they were lamenting together with the sadness carried by the white snow around the lake. His slender body gracefully executed the story told by his expressions, a story of loss, hate, and anguish.
He was reaching out to the heavens in search of something or perhaps to take away the pain in his chest where his hand was latched on to, squeezing his clothes so hard that it seemed like if only he could reach deeper, he could finally tear away what was aching inside. He ran and chased after someone, begging not to be left behind, to be accepted, to feel the love that was denied to him as he bowed his head. Abandoned and unloved. His rage was told by the fury in his eyes, the forceful lashing out of his arms, and the stomping of his feet, which left marks of his hatred all over the ice.
Yet underneath the loathing, sadness howled. It cried out with the somber tears shed by the music. But he wiped them away and dived into the sea of raging fire, feeding it with fuel, with the agonizing hatred inside him. When the fire had burned out, all that was left were ashes, leaving him reaching for the snowflakes that never came, wishing for the weariness and pain to be washed away by the snow.
Unfulfilled dream,
Unquenched longing,
Ungiven love.
Those were the words this soul sang, a birdsong of someone lost and was never found.
Hiding behind a tree near the speaker playing the music, Nahida found herself enthralled and moved. Tears formed in her eyes and rolled down without her knowing until the performance was over.
This was true skating.
It was simple, with no complicated jumps or spins, but beautiful. It was raw and pure. Technical skill was not there yet, but the expression of emotions, the way he poured his heart out with every step, gave so much more impact than any fancy routines could offer.
It had the same power as her mother's.
Now, it made sense.
After all these years, she had studied skating with her mind and body but never with her heart. She could execute various tricks: leaping gracefully in the air, spinning with finesse, but that was all. She could not connect to people at all. She thought she was, but in reality, she did not. She could feel it when watching a performance like the one she witnessed today but did not have the capacity to do it herself.
This man could.
If only someone would teach him and guide him on the right path toward being a professional figure skater, she was sure that he would shine. His love for skating was evident, and given that he could already do this much, there was a high probability that he could learn the fundamentals fast. If only someone–
Something clicked. Like a puzzle piece fitting into place, she felt a spark inside her.
She found something .
An answer.
Where could she jump to if skating was all she knew and loved?
Here it was. The answer she had been searching for.
Maybe she did not need to leave the field she cherished. Maybe she only needed to step out of the rink, let somebody take it, and dance from the side to the tune of other's progress. She had hit her limits on the ice, but she could let others go beyond it and flourish more beautifully than she ever did. She could impart her knowledge and use it to nourish a sprout.
With a broad and genuine smile, she stepped out of the tree's shadow and gave the huffing man a deserved applause, "That was beautiful."
Surprise and terror flooded the man's face but were immediately hidden by an angry frown, "Don't you know that it's rude to watch others without their permission?" He crossed his arms across his heaving chest.
"Ah, sorry." Nahida walked closer to the man dressed in all black, stopping at the edge of the slippery ice, "I didn't intend to watch in secret. I was walking in the forest when I heard music playing and when I followed it, I happened to catch your performance. I didn't want to interrupt so I decided to stay hidden until it ended."
He shrugged in reply, "Fine."
The man said nothing more and glided to where Nahida was, going past her to grab something from the log behind her. He put on the plastic guards over his skating shoes' blades, then reached for his bag, fishing out a towel he used to wipe the sweat off his face.
Like a puppy released from a cage, the excitement Nahida was holding back for the sake of formality came rushing out of her mouth, "That was a beautiful performance! The way you skate is elegant and mesmerizing. It reminds me of a bird gliding along the sky, drifting among the clouds. The way you move as you dance is also quite a sight. Each step was in sync with the music and the movement of your arms were very impressive. Oh and your expressions are raw with emotions, causing the narrative of the music to stand out and the whole dance itself to be vividly presented."
The young man just stood there, his eyes refusing to meet the woman's gaze, but his ears were listening to every word she said. He said nothing, though the dust of crimson on his cheeks spoke loudly. Absent-mindedly, he fidgeted with the towel on his hands.
The uncomfortable silence of the man snapped Nahida's unending thread of compliments. Scratching the side of her face, she spoke, "I think I went overboard there. But what I wanted to say is that you skate wonderfully."
Slinging the towel on his shoulder, he replied with a tone sharp as the blade on his shoes, "Well, are you waiting for some sort of thanks?"
She shook her head, "No. I just want to give praise when it is deserved. Can I ask you something though?"
His raised eyebrow urged her to go on.
"Do you have any experience with figure skating?"
"No."
"Are you interested in trying it?"
A moment of silence, then a shrug, "I know you want to ask something else. Get straight to the point."
"Okay." She nodded, "I know this is sudden but are you interested in having a coach and studying figure skating?"
"Are you part of a pyramid scam or maybe an insurance company? You're recruiting the wrong person. I'm not gullible enough to fall into your schemes."
"No, I'm not!" Nahida corrected, fishing out her ID from her wallet as proof, "I'm a figure skater myself. I've been retired for a year but I was a professional skater." The sound of a pile of snow falling from a branch filled the silence before she continued, "I'm not saying this purely to win your trust but I do see a great potential in you. So if you will agree, I want to teach you what I know and help you flourish in this field."
He scoffed in mockery, "If you're already retired when you're still young then it must mean that your record is not great, right? How can I trust someone like that as a coach? It seems that you don't even have any experience in coaching."
"I…I have nothing to present to you that can prove my worth but you do have my word that I'm genuinely interested in being your coach." The past, memories of an unattainable dream flashed in her eyes, "I was born with the expectations of achieving great things but I never lived up to them. Still, even if I can't shine on the rink, at the very least, I want to see others do it. I may not be an Olympic gold medalist but I do have the experience and the knowledge to guide other skaters."
She saw the wall in his eyes crumble as she met his gaze, but it was immediately built back up again. Standing between them was a thick wall as cold as the snow in the forest and invisible to the naked eye.
"So you're a saint taking me in as a passion project to boost your ego." He took his backpack and slung one of the straps over his shoulder, "I want none of that crap."
"I'm no saint. Far from it." Her gaze remained firm despite the harsh stare of the man, "I won't deny that part of why I'm doing this is for my own benefit. I'll be able to explore this new career of coaching while you get to build your skills for figure skating. I think it's better to think of this as a partnership of some sort."
"You're a first."
"Huh?"
"You're the first one in a while to last this long in a conversation with me. Most of them get fired up and leave in less than three minutes. Still, I refuse the offer. Go find somebody else."
Nahida's shoulder slumped, but a small amount of cheer left in her helped her smile at the man, "I respect your decision. I won't force you if you really don't want to. But setting my offer aside, I do hope you give figure skating a try because you seem to have a talent for it."
He scoffed, "Talent, huh. I–"
A loud growl left the two in silence.
Nahida blinked.
The man blinked as well before heat rushed up to his cheeks upon realizing that the sound had come from his stomach.
"...Do you want to have lunch here?" Nahida started, "I have extra food with me that I can share with you. Treat it as an apology gift for intruding earlier."
He opened his mouth to spit out a refusal but bit out the urge. Instead, he replied, "Fine."
The food was nice, but honestly, he would not even taste it if he had the money to buy himself some lunch. Rather than having the trouble of sneaking out something from a convenience store, free food would save him the effort.
He took another bite of the pita pocket while he stole a glance at the person sitting on the log with him. She was busy scrolling on her phone, probably looking for the right song after she asked to borrow his speaker for some skating practice. She wore her snow-white hair in a side ponytail, which was very childish in his opinion, and was clad in a flowy white and green dress that reached her knees after she had shed her winter clothing.
Apparently, this place was her sort of secret place where she practiced when she was younger. Long after she left, it was he who found this place next and claimed it as his, taking stolen moments of solitude here in her stead. He said that he had no interest in sharing the place, so he would stop coming here, which she countered with a statement saying that her visit was a one-time thing and he could have this place for himself tomorrow and beyond.
Honestly, she was actually pleasant to talk with. Aside from the weird metaphors, he appreciated how frank and direct she was. Her words were derived from facts and logic, no sugarcoating or small talk that he hated. She was shorter than him and, in his opinion, would pass as his younger sister with how she looked, but seemed more mature than most of the people he met so far.
As he took another bite of his lunch, the woman's offer resurfaced in his mind.
Figure skating and coaching.
Coaching, huh?
He had learned to dance on ice all on his own over the past years. He did not need any help from other people. He would prove to her that he could–
"Can I ask you a favor?"
He turned his eyes to his right and met a pleading emerald pair, "You've already disturbed me so spill it out."
"Can you watch me practice? I just want to get some outsider opinion."
“Sure, I guess."
Her eyes shimmered, "Thank you."
She put on her skating shoes, which matched the color of her dress, and walked towards the makeshift rink. She skated to the center and nodded at him to press play on her phone.
As soon as the first notes drifted in the cold air, she started moving.
He could not look away the moment she began. It was as if he was bewitched, bound to a spell he could not break. He was enthralled by a bird gliding in the air, her movements free as the wind accompanying her, supporting her wings and assisting her flight. The way her dress spun as she twirled reminded him of a flower, a white rose, dancing in the tune of a warm soft lullaby despite the coldness of the snow around the area. Her body moved with grace, like a flower being gently swayed by the gentle breeze in a hopeful sunrise and to some extent, as fluid as the waves being pulled by the moon's gravity. Then, whenever she jumped, she soared like a dolphin that rose from the ocean to meet the sky, majestically spinning midair before diving back into the water.
It was beautiful,
Yet, somehow felt incomplete.
She was the epitome of grace and skill, but somehow, her dance felt…empty?
It was not because of the two failed jumps but something else.
It was beautiful, but it was similar to the paintings in museums, masterfully painted and a sight to behold, but it was just a portrait with nothing else but a picture of a person sitting still. It was mesmerizing for the eyes yet somehow could not speak to the heart.
Still, it was undeniably good. It made a question form in his head…
…If he too, as inexperienced as he was, could perform like that?
Would he, too, look like a picture of perfection?
After nearly stumbling on her last spin, Nahida ended her performance with an elegant pose of a flower in full bloom. She then gracefully bowed in front of her sole audience.
Snapping out of his trance, he kicked away the last small portion of the pita pocket that fell on the snow, leaving it to be eaten by the ferrets nearby.
"Are you done showing off?" He teased when she came back after putting back her winter clothes.
She waved her hands to disciple the notion, "I didn't do it to show off." She sat on the log and changed into her regular shoes, "That was one of the choreographies and music I used for a competition. I just want to confirm something, that's why I'm asking for your opinion."
He leaned forward and rested his hand on his chin, "Do you really want to hear my opinion? I don't sugarcoat my words. I'm not saying a word if you're going to bawl your eyes out."
"It's fine. I prefer honest feedback so I can directly know the problem."
His gaze drifted on the ice, tracing the etched lines on its surface, "It's not bad. You landed most of your fancy tricks and didn't trip face first like a child. I'm no expert but I think it's lacking."
"Lacking what?"
"Expression." His voice held a hint of mocking tone, "It's eye candy but lacks depth. It's like watching a doll dance."
She put her hand on her chin, "I see. So it's still the problem."
“You're aware then."
"Yes." Her sigh left a cloud of air, "Now I fully understand what led to my downfall." She shook her head, "Anyway, thank you for your honest feedback." Her right foot made a circle on the snow, "I guess we're opposites then. Your dance is expressive while mine lacks that aspect. On the other hand, I've got a grasp on the technical fundamentals while you haven't yet. Still, one thing we have in common is that we love skating."
"Who said that I love it? I'm just doing it to pass the time."
"But someone who didn't adore it won't express that much genuine emotion while performing." Her finger pointed to his tattered skating shoes beside him, "And their shoes won't be that worn out."
He snorted, "That was a pass down from a friend that's why it looks like trash."
"I see. But it's a lucky one since whoever used it seemed to have loved it a lot."
"Is that all? I've given you feedback so I balanced the books already for the lunch you gave me."
She also rose to her full height when the man stood up," Yes, sorry for keeping you here."
Slinging his back on his back, he replied, "Then I'll be off. I still need to find a job and a place to crash in."
She perked up, "You're looking for a place to stay?"
"Yeah. I think I said that loud enough for you to hear."
Remaining unfazed by his words, she replied, "I'm thinking of using a small skating practice place that I got as a starting point for my coaching plans. The problem is, it hasn't been used for years so it must be very dusty by now. If you're willing, you can use the spare room for yourself in exchange for helping me clean and manage the whole facility. There will be plenty of free time so you can work on another job while you're there."
"Wow, you're that desperate to keep me around?"
"Not really. I just find it more convenient than searching around or waiting for applicants."
She's blunt indeed, he thought.
But it actually sounded like a good offer. He did not have to argue with landlords who got upset at him the minute they started talking, there were no noisy neighbors, he would have the opportunity to earn money on the side, and he could use the rink for himself when she was not around.
"I'll consider it."
Her face lit up, "Great! Lend me your phone and I'll give you my number so that you can contact me."
Fishing out his phone from his pocket, he unlocked it and handed it to her, "You're too trusting. Aren't you scared of being alone with a stranger? Not worried that I'll rob you?"
She finished typing her number and returned the phone to its owner, "A bit but I'dlike to believe that I'm a good judge of character. You won't even be mentioning this if you're planning something."
"How naive. You're clearly not a good judge of character if you're putting faith in someone like me."
She hummed in thought, "We'll see if I'm wrong. Anyway, I believe we haven't given our names yet this whole time." With a gentle smile warmed by the sun peeking from the afternoon sky, she held out her hand, "I'm Nahida."
Ignoring the gesture, he turned around and started walking, "Kuni."
She zipped up her jacket and jogged to catch up to him, "Nice to meet you, Kuni."
She was a flower who never stood out,
He was a flower who never bloomed.
Perhaps in this tiny spot of sunlight,
They can find warmth amidst the cold snow.
Bonus Section:
