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The skate park glowed under the evening sun, painting the asphalt in warm shades of orange. The air was filled with the sound of wheels gliding over concrete and the distant laughter of skaters hanging out by the ramp.
Miya sat lazily on the railing, nudging his skateboard with the toe of his sneaker. His gaze kept drifting back to Koyomi, who was trying her hardest to land an ollie.
She jumped, sharply snapping the tail of her board against the ground, but the skateboard barely lifted off the asphalt before slamming back down. She didn’t even seem to notice how stubbornly she bit her lip in concentration.
Miya let out a heavy sigh and jumped down from the railing.
— You’re positioning your feet wrong, — he said casually.
Koyomi spun around so fast she nearly lost her balance.
— Then maybe you should help instead of just standing there, Mr. Know-It-All! — she shot back, her voice full of challenge, though her cheeks turned slightly pink.
Miya scoffed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
— Fine, just watch and learn.
He stepped forward, effortlessly hopped onto his skateboard, and did an ollie with practiced ease. The board landed smoothly, and Miya looked at Koyomi with a smug grin.
— See? That’s how it’s done.
Koyomi crossed her arms, glaring at him.
— Are you just showing off, or are you actually going to teach me?
— Patience, Kyan, — he drawled, as if talking to a little kid.
Miya stepped closer, carefully placing his foot on her skateboard.
— Put your front foot a bit closer to the center, and your back foot like this. — He leaned down to adjust her stance, but when he realized how close he was, he quickly straightened up. — Now try again.
Koyomi frowned in concentration and attempted to mimic his movements. Miya watched as strands of her hair fell over her face, as she bit her lip slightly, completely focused on the trick.
— What? — Koyomi suddenly asked, catching his gaze.
— Nothing, just… you’re probably the most stubborn girl I know.
She smirked, crossing her arms.
— And you’re the most annoying guy I know.
Miya turned away, hiding the slight flush on his face.
— Just try again, — he muttered.
Koyomi took a deep breath and jumped, snapping the tail of the board. This time, the skateboard lifted slightly off the ground with her. She let out an excited gasp.
— Oh, I— AAH!
She lost her balance before she could finish.
Miya instinctively reached out, catching her by the wrists just in time. Koyomi crashed into him, and he took a step back but managed to stay on his feet. Their faces were suddenly way too close—so close he could see the golden reflections of the sunset in her eyes.
She stared at him, wide-eyed, her cheeks slightly flushed.
— Oh, you caught me… — she breathed, almost smiling.
— Don’t expect me to do that every time, — Miya grumbled, quickly letting go of her.
Koyomi giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
— Of course, of course… But maybe we could practice again sometime? Together?
Miya turned away, pretending to think about it.
— We’ll see…
But he already knew the answer.
***
Evening at the Skate Park
The evening at the skate park gradually gave way to the coolness of the night. The lamps cast long shadows on the asphalt, the air filled with the crisp sound of skateboards snapping against the ground and the distant chatter of riders.
Koyomi sat on the ledge, swinging her legs as she sucked on a lollipop.
— So? When’s the next training session? — she asked, glancing at Miya.
The boy lazily leaned back, resting his hands on the concrete, his gaze drifting to the sky.
— Who said there would be a next one?
Koyomi narrowed her eyes.
— You don’t want to admit that I landed an ollie today, do you?
Miya smirked.
— That was something like an ollie. Almost.
— Almost?! — Koyomi leaned forward in outrage. — I definitely jumped!
Miya rolled his eyes, but she thought she caught the slightest hint of a smile at the corners of his lips.
— Alright, alright. But if you really want to train with me…
— I do!
— Then let’s make a bet, — he turned to her, resting an arm on his knee. — If you can land a proper ollie three times in a row, I’ll… — he pretended to think — buy you a lemonade.
Koyomi eyed him suspiciously.
— And if I don’t?
Miya shrugged indifferently.
— Then you buy me a lemonade.
She hesitated for a moment, then stood up confidently.
— Easy! Get your money ready.
Miya just smirked as she grabbed her board.
— We’ll see… — he drawled, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Something told him he was going to be the one buying the lemonade. And maybe… he didn’t mind.
Koyomi stepped onto her skateboard, squinting in concentration. This time, she felt more confident—her stance was solid, her breathing steady, and somewhere behind her, Miya’s lazy voice sounded:
— Don’t forget to flick the nose up, not just jump.
— I know! — she snapped, then immediately bit her tongue. She wanted to prove she could do it.
Taking a deep breath, she bent her knees, pushed off the ground…
And lifted.
Her skateboard left the asphalt cleanly, hovering in the air for a second before landing smoothly beneath her feet. Koyomi froze, her eyes wide in disbelief.
— I… I did it?!
Miya gave a slow, lazy clap.
— Congrats. But you need two more if you want that lemonade.
Koyomi wasn’t even listening, too caught up in the rush of excitement. She tried again—landed it. And again—success.
— Three in a row! — she cheered, hopping back onto the ledge beside Miya.
He watched her for a moment, then sighed and stood up.
— Alright, alright, I lost. What kind of lemonade do you want?
— The biggest one!
Miya rolled his eyes but turned toward the nearby vending machine. Koyomi followed, her legs still slightly shaky from the adrenaline.
When they finally got their drinks, Koyomi took a long sip and sighed in satisfaction.
— You know, you’re not such a bad teacher after all.
— I never planned to be one, — Miya scoffed, taking a small sip from his bottle.
Koyomi giggled.
— But you were.
They sat on the ledge again, quietly watching the last few skaters still riding through the park.
At some point, Koyomi felt something lightly brush her cheek.
She blinked and turned her head—Miya was closer than she expected. He had leaned in, gently tucking a stray strand of hair away from her face.
Koyomi didn’t move. His fingers were warm against her skin.
— Your hair was in the way, — he muttered, pulling his hand back.
She kept looking at him, her gaze unwavering.
— You could’ve just told me.
— And you could stop staring at me like that.
His voice was quieter than usual.
Koyomi felt her heartbeat stutter.
Miya didn’t look away.
Then, suddenly, he stood up.
— Let’s go. It’s getting late.
Koyomi hesitated for a second before following him, gripping the almost-empty lemonade bottle in her hands.
She wasn’t sure what had just happened.
But she knew she wanted it to happen again.