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The setting sun painted the dreambubbles' skatepark in hues of orange and purple, casting long shadows across the concrete. Two trolls were there, their matching bodysuits standing out against the fading light. The sound of wheels against concrete echoed through the empty park, a rhythmic scraping that had become as familiar to them as their own heartbeats.
Latula adjusted her rectangular red shades with a confident push, the teal accents on her black bodysuit catching the last rays of sunlight. She stood at the edge of the largest halfpipe, skateboard under one arm, surveying her domain with the practiced eye of someone who had conquered every inch of this park many times over. Her posture radiated confidence – shoulders back, chin high, one hip cocked slightly in that classic skater stance that had become second nature.
"Check th1s w1ck3d mov3 1'm 4bout to drop!" she called out, her voice carrying the enthusiastic cadence of a '90s extreme sports announcer. She dropped her board, jumped on with practiced ease, and launched herself down the pipe.
The wheels hummed against the concrete as she built up speed, her form perfect as she rose up the opposite side, catching air at the top. She twisted her body, board following her command as if it were an extension of herself, completing a complex trick before landing smoothly back on the transition and riding it out. Her movements were fluid, controlled – the result of sweeps upon sweeps of dedicated practice and an innate talent that few could match.
From his perch on a nearby bench, Mituna let out an excited whoop, nearly falling off his seat in enthusiasm. "TH4T W45 5O FUCK1NG 4W350M3!!" His voice cracked and fluctuated in volume, barely contained by the bulky helmet with its dual-colored visor that hid his eyes. He clutched his own skateboard tightly, yellow and black gloved fingers fidgeting with nervous energy. His legs bounced rapidly against the ground, unable to contain the excitement coursing through his system.
Latula rode up to him, flipping her board up with a kick and catching it one-handed. She struck a pose, giving him a hard high-five that made him wince and laugh simultaneously. "Th4nks, b4b3! 1'v3 b33n work1ng on th4t on3 for 4g3s! L1k3, tot4lly burn3d through thr33 s3ts of wh33ls p3rf3ct1ng th4t tr1ck!"
"YOU'R3 TH3 MO5T R4D... THE MO5T..." Mituna's words stumbled over each other as his excitement overwhelmed his ability to express himself. His mood suddenly shifted, shoulders hunching slightly as frustration took over. "FUCK! C4N'T... C4N'T 54Y 1T R1GHT... 5TUP1D FUCK1NG BR41N WON'T WORK!"
Latula's expression softened behind her glasses. She sat beside him, one arm sliding around his shoulders, her tough exterior giving way to the gentleness she reserved only for him. "H3y, no str3ss, M1tun4. 1 tot4lly g3t wh4t you'r3 s4y1ng." She gave his helmet a gentle tap with her knuckles. "You t4k1ng your m3ds tod4y?" Mituna nodded, the motion exaggerated by the bulky helmet. "Y35... 1 D1D. 1 TH1NK." He paused, suddenly uncertain, hands moving to clutch at the sides of his helmet as if trying to hold his thoughts in place. "M4YB3? FUCK, 1 DON'T R3M3MB3R... 1 THOUGHT... 1 THOUGHT 1 D1D BUT NOW 1'M NOT 5UR3 4ND 1 C4N'T..."
"1t's cool," Latula reassured him, squeezing his shoulder. She reached into a pocket in her bodysuit and produced a small pill case. "1 k33p 4 b4ckup, r3m3mb3r? 1t's wh4t m4t3spr1ts do – w3 look out for 34ch oth3r." She popped it open, offering him a pill and a small bottle of water she retrieved from her bag nearby. "T4k3 1t 1f you'r3 not sur3. B3tt3r s4f3 th4n sorry, r1ght?" Mituna took the pill with trembling fingers, fumbling with the clasps of his helmet. Latula helped him lift it just enough to swallow the medication. Latula smiled softly as she saw the cracks of red and blue around mituna's eyes, she knew he was insecure about them but she thought they were beautiful. "TH4NK5..." he mumbled, voice momentarily quieter, gentler, before the helmet clicked back into place. "YOU'R3 TH3 B35T. B35T M4T35PR1T. B35T 3V3RYTH1NG."
"1 know," Latula replied with a playful wink behind her shades, her radical persona sliding back into place as she gave him the space to collect himself. She stood, stretching her arms above her head. "W4nt to try th4t gr1nd w3'v3 b33n work1ng on? No pr3ssur3, but th3 r41l's w1d3 op3n r1ght now. Tot4lly pr1m3 cond1t1ons!" Mituna's posture changed again, straightening as determination replaced uncertainty. "Y35! 1 W4NT TO 5HOW YOU! 1 PR4CT1C3D WH3N YOU W3R3N'T LOOK1NG!" He jumped up, energy renewed, and nearly tripped over his own feet in his eagerness. His arms windmilled comically as he struggled to maintain balance, the board clutched tightly in one hand.
Latula steadied him with a practiced hand, her grin genuine behind her shades. "Slow down, b4b3! R41l's not go1ng 4nywh3r3." She glanced around the empty skatepark, appreciating the rare moment of privacy. Usually, they had to deal with the stares, the whispers, the well-meaning but awkward attempts at inclusivity from other skaters who didn't know how to react to Mituna's outbursts or his clumsiness. They approached the low rail together, Mituna's nervous energy palpable as he placed his board on the ground. He stood for a moment, staring at it through his visor, before looking back at Latula. The helmet hid his expression, but the subtle shifts in his posture spoke volumes to someone who knew him as well as she did.
"WH4T 1F CRONU5 5335? H3 5AYS 1'M... 1'M TOO 5TUP1D TO..." His voice grew smaller, a rare moment of vulnerability breaking through. His shoulders hunched forward slightly, hands curling into fists at his sides. "L45T T1M3 H3 BROK3 MY... BROK3 MY BO4RD WH3N 1 TR13D TO 5HOW..."
"Cronus 1sn't h3r3," Latula replied firmly, her usual carefree tone momentarily replaced by something harder, protective. Her hand found his, squeezing it reassuringly. "4nd 1f h3 w4s, 1'd k1ck h1s 4ss so h4rd h3'd n33d 4 n3w stup1d l34th3r j4ck3t to hold h1ms3lf tog3th3r." She flashed him a reassuring smile. "1t's just us, b4b3. No on3 to 1mpr3ss but yours3lf."Mituna nodded, taking a deep breath that seemed to steady him. His grip on her hand tightened briefly before he let go, planting one foot on his board. "1... 1 C4N DO TH15. 1'V3 B33N PR4CT1C1NG. 1'M NOT... NOT 45 FUCK3D UP 45 TH3Y TH1NK."
"You'r3 not fuck3d up 4t 4ll," Latula corrected gently. "You'r3 just... M1tun4. 4nd th4t's r4d 4s h3ll."
A sound that might have been a laugh came from beneath the helmet. Mituna pushed off with his foot, building up speed toward the rail. "1 W4NT YOU TO 533 TH15!!" he called back to her, excitement and determination mingling in his voice as he approached the rail. Latula watched, breath held, as he aligned his approach. This was a simple grind – the most basic trick for most skaters, but for Mituna, it represented weeks of practice, countless falls, and an iron determination that she admired more than any fancy trick in her own repertoire. Mituna hit the rail, board sliding along the metal with a satisfying grinding sound. His arms windmilled slightly as he fought for balance, but he stayed upright, riding the rail to its end before dropping back onto the concrete. The landing wasn't graceful – he stumbled slightly, nearly losing his balance – but he remained on his feet, board still beneath him.
For a moment, he stood frozen, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. Then he whirled around, his entire body radiating joy. "1 D1D 1T!! FUCK Y35!! D1D YOU 533 TH4T?! 1 FUCK1NG D1D 1T!!" Latula was already running toward him, her own board forgotten as she threw her arms around him in celebration. "TOT4LLY R4D!!" she shouted, matching his excitement. "1 kn3w you could do 1t! Th4t w4s s1ck!" Mituna's arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her slightly in his excitement. His helmet bumped against her forehead as he spun them both around. "4G41N! 1 W4NT TO DO 1T 4G41N! 4ND TH3N SOM3TH1NG H4RD3R!"
As he set her down, Latula caught a glimpse of movement at the edge of the park. Her smile faltered slightly as she recognized the tall figure in the vintage-styled clothes, the distinctive zigzag horns, and that ever-present cigarette. Cronus leaned against the fence, a smirk visible even at this distance. He made no move to enter the park, but his presence alone was enough to cast a shadow over their moment of triumph. Mituna, still riding high on his success, hadn't noticed yet. He was already turning back toward the rail, eager to repeat his victory. Latula made a split-second decision. "H3y, b4b3," she called, drawing his attention back to her. "1t's g3tt1ng d4rk. How 4bout w3 h1t th4t n3w p1zz4 pl4c3 to c3l3br4t3 your 4w3som3 mov3s? My tr34t!"
"FUCK Y35!" Mituna agreed enthusiastically, immediately distracted from his plans for another run. "P1ZZ4! 1 W4NT... 1 W4NT THE SP1CY ON3 W1TH TH3 DOUBL3 CH3353!" Latula positioned herself between Mituna and the fence as they gathered their things, using her body to block his line of sight to Cronus. She caught Cronus's eye over her shoulder and made a small, sharp gesture – a clear warning to stay away. To her relief, he shrugged and pushed off from the fence, walking away with that affected swagger of his. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"1 LOV3 YOU," Mituna said suddenly, the words bursting out as if he couldn't contain them. "YOU'R3 5O... 5O FUCK1NG 4W350M3 4ND 1 DON'T D353RV3..."
"Don't 3v3n st4rt w1th th4t," Latula cut him off, linking her arm through his as they walked toward the park exit. "W3'r3 p3rf3ct tog3th3r, got 1t? Th3 most r4d coupl3 1n p4r4dox sp4c3." The medication was starting to take effect; Mituna's movements were becoming slightly more controlled, his speech a little less frantic. "C4N W3... C4N W3 PR4CT1C3 MOR3 TOMORROW? 1 W4NT TO L34RN TH3 OLLIE N3XT."
"4bsolut3ly," Latula agreed, giving his arm a squeeze. "4nd 1'll show you my n3w combo mov3 – 1t's go1ng to blow your th1nk p4n!"
As they left the park behind, their matching silhouettes stretched long in the dying light, Latula allowed herself a small, private smile. These moments – not the tricks or the reputation or the rad persona she maintained – these quiet victories were what mattered. Her medicinal pill case clicked against his in her pocket as she walked, a small reminder of how they carried each other's needs, how they filled in each other's gaps.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new falls, new frustrations. Cronus might return, or Kankri might corner Mituna and her for another lecture. But for now, in this moment, they had the simple pleasure of a successful grind, the promise of pizza, and the comfort of understanding that ran deeper than any injury could reach.