Chapter Text
Before
Finding the man in the rain, the one he idolised half his life, and then eventually falling asleep under the same blanket with him were such unthinkable ideas that not even in Tsukasa’s wildest dreams could he ever imagine this ever happening.
Yet.
Jun Yodaka has been the brightest star in Tsukasa’s sky—seeing him glowing dimly this evening, witnessing the most human side of this man that maybe anyone could ever glimpse, left Tsukasa wishing he could just sneak outside to the riverside and just… scream.
The sheer idea that Jun said he does not skate anymore has been breaking Tsukasa’s heart over and over again ever since he heard the statement—it does so, even though Tsukasa deeply believes in what he told Jun that he is so much more than ‘a skater’, his worth not tied to the ice, even if Jun thinks so.
Selfishly, Tsukasa wishes Jun would always skate, but…
…Tsukasa also wishes Jun would be okay. Anything better than how he is now—the wish and urge to help, yet not being (also not daring) to do more, eat up Tsukasa alive as he lies with Jun at night, sleepless for a long time.
Tsukasa wishes he knew what to do now, he wishes he had what it takes to ask questions and help. To do for Jun. Tsukasa doesn’t dare to think they will become friends, and he doesn’t have a single thought wishing there will be something awaiting him in return—he could never repay Jun for everything he has given him through his skating.
A part of Tsukasa, buried deep, that doesn’t lack confidence, thinks it’s pathetic he is so head over heels for a man he barely even knows as a person… Yet the unextinguishable part of Tsukasa’s heart that burns bright and is full of hope and life tells him nothing of these matters because of what his soul got from Jun. The sheer impact this man’s artistry and ability had on him craved his life and persona—the same way his skates crave the ice when he slides through the rink with inhuman speed, drawing complicated circles and shapes with his blades.
The images of the night flash in Tsukasa’s mind while his body feels the welcomed weight of Jun by his side. The rain still falls hard outside; having spent enough time in the darkness, Tsukasa allows himself to glance down at Jun.
His mask-like expression shed in his sleep, Jun looks peaceful—and also, utterly tired. His words, whispered in the rain, echo in Tsukasa’s mind:
‘Do you know how lonely it is to be on top and think if you do your best and pull through and win it all, then eventually there will be something you understand and it will give meaning to your life and you learn how to live outside of the ice?’
Tsukasa has a few regrets in his life… and his biggest is undoubtedly the one that it took him so long to start ice skating. To finally believe in himself enough that he gave himself a chance—however futile and fragile it was. Tsukasa has hated himself for his lack of confidence and assertiveness about his decision, and he wished he had started sooner… But tonight, for the first time, he wishes he had started as a child for a new reason.
A reason for the man Tsukasa hugged as he shook and cried because being on top as a genius has been heart-wrenchingly lonesome.
It is impossible to believe the good words he was told—even if it was Jun Yodaka himself who called him a scarcity. In a different world, if Tsukasa believed in himself more, then he would grieve lost opportunities.
With Jun’s silky black locks lightly tickling Tsukasa’s shoulder, under the soft knocking sound of the rain and the warmth of Jun’s body, Tsukasa eventually falls into light slumber late enough that the rising sun almost greets him still awake, his head full of thoughts.
.
When Tsukasa awakens, the first thing his subconscious realises is that Jun is gone by his side. Blinking the heaviness of sleep away, with the sun’s bright light in his face, Tsukasa sits up fast enough that his close-to-thirty body doesn’t appreciate.
Even though no real ties connect them together, the disappearance of Jun raises Tsukasa’s heart rate—but as his eyes adjust to the brightness, the Olympian is still in his room.
Sliding his second arm into his now-dried coat, Jun turns towards Tsukasa. “I’ll be going now,” he says, his voice a little quiet, devoid of emotion.
All Tsukasa can do is just nod. The clothes he lent Jun are placed onto the other side of the bed, folded neatly; Jun notices as his eyes travel there and nods a little that Tsukasa translates as a way of saying ‘thank you’.
Now dressed in all black as usual, despite the sleep, with dark circles under his eyes, Jun just looks… awful. He didn’t look any good last night either—but whatever fighting spirit was left in him seems to be gone now.
There is just so much Tsukasa would like to ask:
Will you be alright? Where will you go now? What will you do? Is there anything that I—
But even the thoughts seem offensive, and the look Jun gives him makes Tsukasa stop thinking about the option he tries to ask. His lips pursed close together, Jun gives him another little nod—Tsukasa wonders if it is this easy for the Olympian to read him, thorough and through.
“Goodbye, then,” Jun says, and not waiting for Tsukasa’s reply, only hearing it as he goes through the door, he leaves the room.
Jun’s limp is as heavy as it was last night after his fall; everything in Tsukasa screams at him to not let this happen and go after him… Yet, out of respect he has for Jun, Tsukasa stays put.
.
A few days later, an envelope without a sender comes in the mail—inside, there is some money and a note: ‘For the food and the room, thank you.’
During
Jun leaves and doesn’t look back.
Time passes, and desperation grows high enough that he breaks his promise to himself and tries to love the ice—but it does not love him back. Lady luck siding with others that day, Jun hits the ice… and he does not get up.
Through the haze of medication and nicotine, day and night alter until they blend together. Thankfully, the media know nothing—they have mostly forgotten about him, slowly in the last decade. Shinichiro calls after many unanswered texts, but he doesn’t visit when Jun asks him to.
One day, somehow, Jun doesn’t even know how, but he’s watching TV—only the TV, the device, and not the broadcast; he has no idea what has been going on in the past hours. The broadcast being muted, Jun looks but doesn’t see; trying to light yet another cigarette, he knocks over the remote controller.
Fate loves the jokes on him: of course, as the channel switches, now they are showing ice skating.
Anger boils up in Jun’s mind, then… He’s too tired to care. To get up and get the remote—to get up enough that he has something he can throw into the screen so it breaks and he doesn’t see the skating anymore.
Jun looks and he doesn’t see… until, after a blink that feels wet and spills out all the tears he didn’t let himself shed, Jun sees Tsukasa’s student skating. The whites of his eyes red from the cigarettes and the tears, Jun watches the rebroadcast of her latest international free program before the idea that he might see Hikaru’s skating scares and breaks him enough that he fights himself to his feet—or… to one foot, and two crutches—and he gets the remote to turn the TV off.
With all his frustration in the movement, Jun throws the controller to the corner of the room, where it shatters on the wall and falls behind the pile of unpacked boxes of his belongings.