Chapter Text
Skating is grace and discipline, and it was everything that Kusuo carried with him since his childhood. It was something that outshined his abnormal powers—something that was meant to be proud of.
5 AM; the early morning sky had entered its prettiest stage. The sun began creeping up above the horizon, but its counterpart had stayed bright throughout the dark sky, the light scattering through the windows of the arena.
He looked down at the icy floor, noting how it glimmered even in the dim lighting. A blue hue reflected off the white of his skates as he stepped onto the ice, the cold chill of the rink welcoming him with a silent greeting.
The rink; which Kusuo considered home.
With the ring on his finger, the world was quiet, helping him escape the groggy jumbled thoughts of the few early birds. He warmed up by skating a few laps around the rink, where he threw in a variety of spins and twists.
Slowly, he transitioned into easy jumps. It was all calculated speed and precision. Each jump. Each step and glide. Each spin that led to another sequence of moves. The sound of his skates hitting the ice echoed throughout the emptiness of the arena, reminding him that he was the only person here right now.
Here alone, in his world of icy freedom, not bound by strange abilities, despite the lingering doubts in his mind. In an instant, Kusuo shoved it all away, breathed, and just skated.
A slow, melodic song played in his head as he steadily glided on the ice. He stretched his arms out to his sides, glancing at his hand. His ring glistened under the low lighting of the room, capturing all aspects of serenity inside that polished gem.
Kusuo looked forward, moving on to practice a series of intricate spins and jumps, like he had always done since he was a kid. It was never a set routine. He just loved doing it since the ice offered him something new every time. Additionally, psychic powers weren’t required for jumps, footwork, or spins.
It made him feel normal, chasing after something the same way any normal person would achieve through practice and perseverance. He wanted to work for something just like everyone else. To earn something. Because he found something to strive for:
Perfection.
Suddenly, Kusuo was five again, practicing his first jump. It was a beginner level jump, nothing short of surprise coming from a five year old. His mother’s eyes were trained onto him—she was a sensational skater herself. Pro league, of course—and when Kusuo leaped into the air, spinning twice before landing with a slight wobble, he felt a feeling of satisfaction.
‘Look, Mom. I landed the jump!’ He said, allowing a rare smile to show, his eyes sparkling under the bright lights of the arena.
Mom had been so sweet when she had crouched down to pat him on his head, giving him that beautiful smile. The gesture lingered, creating a warmth that Kusuo would miss for years to come.
‘I saw! That’s very good, Ku dear.’
His mouth formed an O shape, his eyes radiating with pride as he beamed up at his mother. She looked so proud even though it had been a simple jump. But it was something he had done—accomplished, without the help of his powers.
From that single moment, Kusuo knew he discovered his passion.
‘…I guess that’s because nothing is ever a challenge for you,’ Kusuke muttered bitterly before he turned away to skate.
There was him, the driving force that would hinder that hope before it could even settle in. Now as Kusuo continued to glide, his heart ached at the memory. He would do anything. Anything, to become better without his powers. Yet maybe if he didn’t have these abilities, Kusuke would still be skating by his side. Maybe Kusuke wouldn’t have felt overshadowed by his achievements. Maybe they could have continued that playful streak of competition on the ice.
Kusuo’s fingers grew cold. It resembled the feeling he got when he saw Kusuke walk out of the rink. When he was a child, having seen Kusuke leave for the final time, leaving him alone in the frozen sanctuary he called home.
All he could remember was how cold it had been that day. Something unnaturally so, but it hadn’t been due to his powers. Just the soulless, throbbing pain that Kusuke’s absence had left.
Perhaps Kusuo was just a weak-minded child. Fragile and sensitive. Though it had been his own fault. Back when he wasn’t so reserved. When he allowed the feeling of accomplishment to sink in.
The ice screeched beneath his feet, pulling Kusuo back to reality. He was here now, skating without any issues—or what should have been no issues.
Right. Kusuke was thousands of miles away. There was no reason to think of him. No reason to think about what had been lost.
He started skating again, his skates carving smooth lines into the ice. He had grown to become a wonderful skater, making a number of people question why he wouldn’t compete. The simple answer was because there was no reason to. Kusuo knew better than anyone that he was good enough to perform in front of people. He just didn’t want to. Figure skating was his hobby. His passion. Still, it didn’t mean he craved attention while on the ice. Attention always made him awkward and hesitant rather than confident. Having eyes on him made him reluctant to even step onto the ice.
So… okay. Fine. He kind of hated it, but now that he is older, he supposed it isn’t something he was completely against.
Somewhere inside him though, the fear of not being good enough had always been present. Whether he made a mistake or not, the disgruntled voice hissed in the back of his mind every time he would perform. Even for himself. Or for his mother. Or even his coach who he had recently met a few weeks ago. It simply persisted in his head like a wicked storm. Living. Brewing. Existing.
Mr. Matsuzaki’s words echoed loudly; ‘There’s something holding you back, kid.’
No, Kusuo sighed, increasing his speed.
There was nothing holding him back. He just didn’t like attention. If he really wanted to, he could rise to the top of the skating world. It would be a walk in the park with his powers.
But… powers.
That would be cheating. It would be the exact opposite of what he had worked for in the past fourteen years of his life.
Kusuo slowed to a stop in the middle of the rink. It was eerily quiet, and he felt a sense of isolation creeping in as he stared down at his skates. He had been extra careful in keeping figure skating and his psychic abilities far away from each other. The two were not meant to be intertwined.
He released a small sigh, raising his head and opening his eyes. The cold barely affected him anymore. It wasn’t necessarily cold, rather… relaxing. Like an inviting blanket that wrapped around him. A comforting touch that reminded him exactly why he enjoyed skating so much.
Of course, skating has it’s downsides too. Like that annoying ache in your feet after removing the skates. Like the pain of trying to grasp onto something that was hardly there. Like the hurt of failing.
…Skating is pretty painful, huh? No kidding.
But it was each time he touched the ice that he remembered his goal. Perfection, but not through his powers. Gliding so easily on the ice, jumping with controlled movements; all of it was earned through his own training and dedication. Screw the curse he was born with, he was going to become something more.
He needed to become something more.
Weirdly enough, following that ideation perturbed him. He wondered when he’d stopped feeling so confident in his abilities. Not his psychic abilities, but his abilities as a person.
As a figure skater.
000
Kusuo had just finished lacing up his skates when he shifted his gaze towards the crowded ice rink. On the right end of the rink, the hockey players stood, laughing loudly and playfully hitting each other with their sticks.
He rolled his eyes, questioning his luck as he got up from the bench. It was unfortunate that he and the other figure skaters would have to share the rink with the hockey players today. Normally, their individual practices were set at different times to avoid distractions, but something occurred that required last minute schedule adjustments. To make matters worse, the two coaches were going to show up late.
He stepped onto the ice, one hand resting against the board as he looked around the arena. Through the center, there was a firm, unspoken boundary between the two sides. One that wasn’t frequently crossed. One that Kusuo didn’t actually care enough to keep in mind. After all, he couldn’t be bothered if he were in the middle of a lutz jump or sit spin.
Kusuo skated towards the middle, straying closer to his side of the rink. He didn’t want any unnecessary interactions with anyone from the hockey team. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t particularly mind them—they’re just too loud for his liking. They also take up a bunch of space on the rink, leaving the figure skaters with less room to practice anything difficult.
Okay, maybe Kusuo wasn’t that fond of the hockey players, but can you blame him? He preferred his own bubble to be untouched, and if possible, he would like to stay far away from all of the players. Their boisterous, cocky attitudes are far from endearing. The way they act is childish and reckless as opposed to the controlled and disciplined nature for something like figure skating.
In regards to the hockey team, Kusuo had a particular distaste for the star of the team; Kuboyasu Aren. Had he done anything? Well, aside from his intent staring when they cross paths on campus, no. That guy was just a beacon of attention and popularity. Not only was he dripping with good looks, he was extremely talented in his sport and was on the path to professional level hockey. Hell, even Kusuo’s coach favored Kuboyasu, despite it being two weeks into the first semester and his coach teaching an entirely different sport. Kuboyasu must have made a grand impression on his college entry. Probably through the scholarship he had earned or something. Kusuo never looked into it, but maybe—
“Saiki!” Someone called. A very annoying voice called.
Kusuo slumped a bit before turning. It was none other than Toritsuka, who was renowned in the university for being a pervert.
Yes. A pervert. What a title he earned for himself… Kusuo didn’t need mind reading to tell what kind of person Toritsuka was. He was more surprised on how he wasn’t yet expelled for his indecent acts.
He had met Toritsuka three weeks ago at orientation. They are, sadly, roommates. It had to be some kind of witchery or manipulation on Toritsuka’s end because how in the world did Kusuo end up getting roomed with him of all people? Sure, he knew of Toritsuka’s maybe kind-of-special mediumship powers—from whenever the idiot had first introduced himself—but it didn’t explain how he was accepted into a university that bordered prestige. At least they didn’t share any classes. Thank God.
Good grief. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to see him outside our dorm.
Kusuo hardly acknowledged him before turning away to create some much needed distance. To his annoyance, Toritsuka only laughed and caught up with him, skating with his arms behind his back.
“I’m so lucky to have ended up rooming with someone like you! Seriously! When I heard that you also figure skate while having amazing psychic abilities–”
“I don’t use my abilities to skate.” Kusuo cut in. “In fact, I don’t care to use my powers as a whole.”
Toritsuka flinched back when Kusuo sharply narrowed his eyes, but his mouth fell open as he registered the words. “What?! That’s impossible! You can do anything imaginable! Like peeping up girls skirts! Or better yet– creating crazy moves as you’re skating!” He grinned, only to yelp when he nearly tripped over a rough patch of ice.
You don’t get it.
Kusuo clicked his tongue in irritation as he continued skating forward, leaving Toritsuka stumbling over the ice.
“W-Wait, Saiki!” Toritsuka called as he tried to regain his footing.
Good grief. Would this perverted asshole get the hint?
Still skating forward, Kusuo looked over his shoulder, seeing Toritsuka reaching out and flailing his arms like a fish out of water. What was he getting at? Something in the air? A person in particular?
As Kusuo turned to see what he was pointing at, Toritsuka shouted, “There’s someone!—”
Just a second too late. Damn it.
Kusuo accidentally skated straight into someone, limbs tangling as they crashed and tumbled across the ice. He laid there for a moment, processing the pain in his ribs and hips from the rough landing and the fact that he had just collided into someone. After a beat, he opened his eyes and saw Kuboyasu on top of him.
Good grief, indeed.
“…Yo,” Kuboyasu huffed breathlessly, grinning as he took in Kusuo’s slightly disheveled appearance.
Although he was fighting back frown, Kusuo’s face stayed impassive as he looked up at Kuboyasu. He was definitely blaming this crash on Toritsuka.
Waiting for Kuboyasu to move, Kusuo stared up at him in silence. Kuboyasu hadn’t moved, though. Instead, his eyes ran over every part of Kusuo’s face and body, making him shift uncomfortably as the cold ice began seeping into his clothes. It got to the point where Kusuo was forced to break the silence.
“…Are you going to move?”
Kuboyasu blinked as if he snapped out of some sort of haze. “Oh, yeah. My bad.” He said before standing up and holding his hand out for him.
Kusuo eyed Kuboyasu’s hand. He didn’t take it, opting to get up himself. He dusted the ice off of his leggings, feeling the weight of Kuboyasu’s gaze—heavy, almost assessing in a way. Kusuo couldn’t care less of a hockey player’s opinion. Plus—
He glanced around, noting how they were obviously on the figure skaters’ side of the rink.
—Kuboyasu was simply on the wrong side.
“Sorry, got a little caught up in the drill there.” Kuboyasu laughed, grabbing Kusuo’s attention again. God damn, he was so effortlessly charismatic. Something about rubbed Kusuo off in the wrong way.
Kusuo ignored that and simply nodded, getting ready to skate off. But when Kuboyasu noticed the subtle shift in his movement, his wrist was grasped.
“Hey, wait.”
The grip was gentle, but commanding enough to make Kusuo halt. Kusuo paused for a second, somehow willing to spare Kuboyasu a glance.
“What is it?”
Kuboyasu brought a hand up to rub his neck. If only for the awkward interaction, he felt a little curious. Maybe even intrigued.
“What’s your name? I feel like I’ve seen you around here, but I don’t actually know your name.”
Feel like? Aren’t you the same guy staring me down all the time?
Kusuo eyed him for a moment longer. Eventually, he replied, “Saiki Kusuo.”
“Saiki, huh…” Kuboyasu smiled as he spoke the words, leaving Kusuo feeling a weird tingly sensation. Strange. “I’m Kuboyasu Aren, not sure if you know.”
Of course he knew. Kuboyasu wasn’t someone people didn’t know. No, someone like that would be Toritsuka. Well, that’s a bad example considering how Toritsuka is kind of known… Regardless—Kusuo nodded once more, ready to end the conversation now. He was never big on small talk, least with a hockey player of all people.
Kuboyasu shot him a friendly smile before opening his mouth to speak. Kusuo bit back a smirk when he was cut off by a strong voice.
“Saiki! Kuboyasu!” Mr. Matsuzaki yelled as he entered the rink.
Both men looked at the entrance, immediately recognizing the coach as he skated over. Mr. Matsuzaki was dressed in his comfortable gear—a warm up jacket and sweatpants.
“Coach…” Kusuo muttered.
Once within reach, Kuboyasu shook hands with Mr. Matsuzaki. “Hey, Mr. Matsuzaki. When will coach arrive?”
“He’s gonna be a bit late… So, I see you’ve finally met each other. This kid over here—” Mr. Matsuzaki gave a pointed look towards Kusuo. “—is the best figure skater on my team.”
“Please stop,” Kusuo tried half-heartedly, folding his arms in faux annoyance.
Mr. Matsuzaki laughed while Kuboyasu’s eyes widened slightly, although he didn’t find the fact to be completely shocking. Kusuo did have that impressive air to him.
“Really? Saiki is the best skater?”
Mr. Matsuzaki gave a quick nod. “I always try to get him to compete, but he just won’t let up.”
Kuboyasu had the audacity to smirk. “Is that so? Stubborn then, huh?”
Putting his hands on his hips, Mr. Matsuzaki said, “don’t let his stoic nature fool ya. He’s a good kid. And he’s even better on the ice. Anyways,” he turned to Kusuo. “There’s something important I have to discuss with you.”
Feeling an unsettling chill run down his spine, Kusuo raised a brow. “Important?”
“Yeah, regarding the university’s event in two months. We, the figure skating program, are holding a competition. That means skaters from other elite colleges will be coming here to compete.”
His heart sunk as he realized what his coach was implying. Right… He had heard of the event. It was annual, a time during the autumn season that was designed to welcome the beginning of winter.
The event—held exactly one month away from the day of the winter solstice—where the physical education department holds specific events for each sport. It was held in November due to other events and smaller festivities from other departments, but it was still a huge deal in the university. People buzzed and raved about it during orientation as if it weren’t still two months away. The event itself was something publicized while also being heavily anticipated, something that made Kusuo think twice about when he had been applying.
The karma of skipping over that fact had come to hit him in the face.
He hesitated. “Sir… you’re not asking me to–”
“I’m asking you to skate in the competition. You will be representing this school, Saiki.” Mr. Matsuzaki deadpanned, leaving no room for argument.
Well, shit. He’s not a kid, but couldn’t Mr. Matsuzaki brought it up a little more nicely? Damn it, really.
Kusuo raised his hand to his mouth, gently nibbling at his nail through his thin, transparent gloves. His coach wanted him to compete. Compete, which would mean creating a routine. Compete, meaning represent his university. Compete, meaning shine to his fullest; to skate in front of an audience where an entire panel of judges would score him based on his skill and execution alone.
“You can do it, can’t ya?” Mr. Matsuzaki said, the soft tone pulling Kusuo from his thoughts.
Kusuo looked up at him, his lips straining to maintain the stoic façade he always kept up.
No. No. No way. Why would he do it? He wasn’t as talented as people made him out to be. There was someone better. Someone more talented. There had to be a way out of this. Maybe he could ask a fellow skater to go in his place.
‘…I saw! That’s very good, Ku dear.’
It would be imperceptible to most, but Kusuo flinched, only slightly. In the corner of his eye, he saw the way Kuboyasu stared at him. Curious, again. Assessing. He was probably wondering why Kusuo wasn’t jumping at the opportunity.
Why wouldn’t he do it? His mother always encouraged his talent. She knew he had it in him. Something beyond his abilities and his identity. He held a true talent for figure skating, at least, that’s what his mother always told him. But could he do it?
Kusuo shook his head. “No… I’m definitely not good enough to go out like that.”
A lie. Hopefully his coach wouldn’t see through it because that would be hard to explain.
“Nonsense, kid!” Mr. Matsuzaki argued. Of course he did. “You’re the best this university has to offer. I’ve seen it first hand. Have some confidence in yourself!”
Kusuo’s gaze flicked back up. He stopped biting and lowered his hand to his side again. In spite of his lingering doubts, he found himself agreeing, knowing that he wasn’t likely to succeed in turning it down either way. Though somehow, he was always like this.
He proceeded to respond with a quiet agreement. “…Okay.”
Mr. Matsuzaki smiled and put a hand on Kusuo’s shoulder, causing him to fight back a shiver. “Great. We’re counting on ya, don’t let us down.”
Shit. Now he couldn’t back down. Kusuo was stumped as he watched Mr. Matsuzaki skate away to check on the other athletes. Kuboyasu stayed put, still observing Kusuo. Kusuo wanted him to look away, but he couldn’t focus on that at the moment.
The room felt cooler, his hands moving to grip at his leggings. He breathed—calm, slow, coordinated. Just like preparing for a jump.
However, this one would be a difficult jump.
000
The dorm room was dark, painted in different shades of blue. The only light came from the bright moon and Toritsuka’s phone. Kusuo entered the room late that night, wobbling inside with a profound exhaustion. He ignored Toritsuka’s greeting and dropped his bag to the floor, hopefully without damaging his skates as he fell onto his bed with an incredible sigh.
“How come you got back so late?” Toritsuka questioned, barely glancing up from his phone.
Kusuo stared up at the ceiling before turning his head. Toritsuka was playing a game on his phone. “…Practicing a routine with the coach,” he muttered in response. “How come you left practice early?”
Toritsuka turned to his side eagerly. “Told Mr. Matsuzaki I wasn’t feeling well, but I actually went to hook up with the big-boobed girl down the hall!” He winked with an impish grin before going back to his phone.
Gross. The thought made Kusuo want to gag, and he turned on his stomach to reach for a pillow.
“He would kill you if he found out.” He hugged the pillow as he thought back to earlier.
The crash with Kuboyasu repeated in his mind. The ache in his body, the way his legs tangled with Kuboyasu’s in what was a somewhat precarious position, the scrutinizing gaze from Kuboyasu’s eyes… What was it about him that kept him in Kusuo’s head all day?
Then, there was that. Mr. Matsuzaki’s proposal was also fresh in his mind. And the reality settled in. The reality that he would be skating in front of a crowd, competing in an event that would most likely be televised.
Two months. That was all he had to prepare.