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Rarely did Seto Kaiba find himself with any semblance of what people referred to as “inner peace”. He was a man of great ambition after all, what with raising his younger brother, running the company left to him -unwillingly- by his stepfather, and climbing to the top of the figure skating world. But in this early morning hour, when the rink was silent but for the scratch and glide of blades over fresh ice, and golden sunlight was just beginning to trickle through the high windows up above, Kaiba felt closest to that ever-elusive feeling.
Earbuds snugly in place, Kaiba skated with long, graceful strides, warming up with looping circles and figure eights, crossovers and turns as he listened for what seemed like the thousandth time to his free skate music. It was still early in the season yet, with Skate America still 6 weeks away, but Kaiba was already intimately comfortable with the changing rhythms, tempos, and chords that flowed through his ears.
Once sufficiently loose and comfortable, he began working into jumps. Starting simple with a double Salchow, he switched back for a moment and took off, the rotations feeling as effortless as breathing. He landed solid and steady, and let himself glide for a little while, playing the jump back in his head while he did so.
Satisfied with his form, Kaiba took himself through the other doubles; toe loop, flip, axel. One after another, each as fluid as the last.
By the time he made it up through the end triples, each done twice or three times, Kaiba was starting to breathe a little heavier, and a pleasant, light ache had settled into his thighs. When it came to his bigger jumps -the quads- he chose only one to practice on any given day. To do more than that would not only mess up his muscle memory, but also take away from his ability to focus on the most minute details that made him an internationally renowned skater.
Pausing his training for a moment, Kaiba glided over to the side of the rink, pushing his auburn bangs back from his eyes as he grabbed a quick drink of water. After adjusting the collar of his form-fitting navy turtleneck and tugging at the hem of his black pants to settle them back in place, he checked his phone. He still had about thirty-five minutes until anyone else was scheduled to use the rink, giving him plenty of time.
Making his way back to center ice, Kaiba decided that he’d spend his efforts on perfecting his flip, seeing as it had felt just slightly under rotated compared to his other warm ups. Not enough for most judges to notice, but enough that Kaiba felt it warranted attention. And besides, Pegasus had instructed him specifically not to attempt a quad axel without him present -which Kaiba had scoffed at- but a point he would argue about on another day.
He took a lap to clear his head and prime his muscles before starting up again. Satisfied after a minute, Kaiba turned backwards on his blade, picking up momentum. As he neared the opposite end of the rink Kaiba looked over his shoulder just briefly, swept into a tight circle, shifted his weight to his inside edge, kissed the ice with the toe of his other skate and -
Silence.
Kaiba felt himself leave the ground, and with that departure came the quiet of his mind as he held his breath and spun, arms crossed tightly over his chest. For the briefest of seconds, it was impossible to think of anything but the feeling of being weightless.
But all things that rise must eventually return to earth, and so Kaiba did, landing perfectly, arms spread and left leg extending back to steady himself through the impact and follow through. He exhaled a breath as he righted himself, the clarity of the rink around him coming back as he returned to awareness of his surroundings.
The sound of enthusiastic clapping through the music in his ears caught him off guard, disturbing the hush of the rink like a stone dropped onto a glassy pond. Had Kaiba been a weaker man, may have been startled at the sudden presence of another person in what he considered, at least for the time being, to be his space.
He turned, slowly, to face the intruder, only to find a man leaning over the side of the rink, gloved hands dangling like the golden hair falling over his eyes. He grinned at Kaiba, waving at him as he approached, scowling as he plucked an earbud from his ear.
“That was some real fancy footwork there Kaiba, how long did it take you to learn that?”
“This is a closed session, Jounouchi. Ah, but I forgot. They don’t teach strays to read.”
Jounouchi rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I’m a half-wit doofus to you, I get it. But you could at least take a compliment like a man, y’know.”
Kaiba snorted, waving a hand dismissively as he ignored the niggling twinge in his chest, chalking it up to the unexpected lack of solitude. “I do when they’re given to me by one.”
“Yeesh, you land from that jump with bees in your butt or something? I thought you were a morning person.”
“And from the way you fall asleep in class, I know you aren’t. So why are you here, and more specifically, why are you disturbing me?”
Jounouchi reached down and hefted a large bag up for Kaiba to see. “Early practice, coach’s orders.” He shrugged his shoulders. “‘Guess I’m just the first one here. Yugi’ll be proud of me.”
“Yes, gold stars all around, I’m sure.” Kaiba turned away, placing his earbud back in place. “Now be a good dog and go wait in your locker room. This isn’t spectator hour, and my time is precious.”
Realizing the conversation was over, Jounouchi rolled his eyes as he turned away. “Stuck up asshole,” he muttered, shouldering his bag and trudging off toward the locker room. Kaiba hadn’t told him outright to fuck off though, which he supposed meant the other man was in a decent mood. At least enough to dampen the insults hurled at him.
But still, even as Jounouchi started unlacing his own skates, he couldn’t get the sight of the expression on Kaiba’s face as he’d completed his jump out of his head. It was so relaxed, no downturn of his mouth or ice blue eyes flashing with vitriol. It was off-putting. It was so, so foreign. Like something that Jounouchi wasn’t supposed to see. But a little voice in the back of his mind whispered that it was an expression he wouldn’t mind seeing again.
——-
Kaiba, meanwhile, had been thrown completely off center. All the jumps he’d attempted after Jounouchi showed up had been wobbly, under or over rotated messes, and his frustration was mounting by the second, which he knew was not helping his form or his concentration at all.
Try as he might, the memory of those bright russet eyes watching him as he skated burned brightly in the back of his mind. Watching not to judge or critique, only observe with interest. Kaiba didn’t know what to make of it, which only served to irritate him more.
Growling to himself, Kaiba cut his ice time short, giving the rest up as a bad job as a headache started to brew around his temples. At least now he’d be able to have a proper shower after his practice before starting the rest of his day.
It also gave him more than enough time to force a certain hockey player firmly out of his thoughts.