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“They’re a little banged up, but should last you for a while. Depending on how much you train.”
Toge eyes the used pair of figure skates that had been unceremoniously dumped in front of where he sits, a banged up couch shoved into the corner of a dimly lit storage shed. He nods in thanks as he goes to kick off his sneakers while the woman helping him, an old friend from his juvenile hockey days turned skate technician/dealer, busies herself selecting additional pairs for him to try on.
He’s about to slide his foot in when she swats at his head. “Oi, you can’t wear those socks, didn’t you bring the ones I told you to?” She admonishes.
Toge huffs, gesturing to his feet while raising his eyebrows. These are my socks for hockey, same thing, he tries to convey with an exaggerated presentation of his foot.
Something soft smacks him square in the face before falling into this lap.
“You’re lucky I have extras lying around, put those on,” She snaps before making her way back over with two more boxes of skates.
‘They’re like tights’ he thinks as he begrudgingly shoves them on. Finally slipping his foot inside the boot, Toge is surprised by how different and how similar they feel to his hockey skates. The cradle of his heel is a welcomed feeling. The compression of his toes in the more narrow toe box however, is not.
With both skates on he finds himself being manhandled by his friend, yanking his leg so that she may begin lacing his boots up. “Pay attention, I’m only showing you once,” she says as she begins to tug and pull, the constriction of his foot only increasing as she works.
So far, it’s not too far off from how he would tie his own skates, but that all changes the moment she continues past his ankle. It’s tight, much tighter than he’s used to.
As if reading his thoughts, she glances up at him with a knowing grin. “Don’t wanna snap an ankle on all those axels you’re gonna be doing, right?”
Toge rolls his eyes but chuckles despite himself. He forgot just how much Kirara loved to talk. Back in their pee wee days, Kirara often served as their designated trash talker, riling the other team up until they were blood thirsty, strategy forgotten for the sake of revenge. At her prime, she was the only one in their league faster than him, leading a futile pursuit from those unfortunate enough to take the bait.
A shoulder surgery and gender transition later, she finally called it quits her second year of high school. Now, she works part time as a skate dealer and technician and has become the team’s unofficial go-to person when they need new equipment not funded by the school.
Luckily for Toge, Kirara was an avid figure skating fan who also happened to pick up the sport over the past five years.
He didn’t dare risk going to the in-house pro shop at the rink where Yuuta may spot him.
This was a secret, at least temporarily.
Fully laced up, Toge stands and totters around the small rug laid out in front of the couch. A little hop to test for any sliding has him second guessing his whole grand scheme to surprise Yuuta for his birthday. His ankles feel like they’re wrapped in a cast, the whole experience drastically different from what he’s used to.
“So why the change up?” Kirara asks as she crouches down to examine his feet while he walks, “I always thought you’d be cremated in your gear.”
Toge shrugs. It’s not like he can convey the complicated mess of feelings he has for a man so earnest in everything he does, so steadfast in his dedication to those he holds dear it nearly killed him, with a few hand gestures and a wiggle of his eyebrows.
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with a tired looking ex-pro figure skater, would it?” Kirara asks, her tone suggestive as ever. Toge nearly trips over his own feet as he whirls around to face her, a brief moment of panic flashing over his face before he manages to reel it in.
As innocent as he can, the perfect portrait of neutrality, Toge responds with a quiet “hmm?”
Kirara’s smile is nothing short of evil as she stands to her full height, arms crossed in smug triumph. “Bingo,”
Between the height of the blade and the lift of the boot heel, Toge stands roughly four centimeters taller than his friend, a rare occurrence he takes full advantage of, puffing his chest slightly as he matches her stare.
He lasts all of two seconds before he deflates, curiosity outweighing his poorly acted nonchalance. ‘How the hell did she figure that out’ he wonders before plopping back on the couch with a heavy sigh.
Kirara is nothing short of gleeful as she readies the next pair for him to try on, still used, but clearly a higher end model. A massive toe pick fills him with mild trepidation as he begins unlacing his current boots. They fit well enough, but the slight pinch of his toes is a little worrying.
“Wondering how I knew?” Kirara asks brightly.
Toge doesn’t respond, instead choosing to focus on switching to the second pair. Not for the first time, Toge swears Kirara has the ability to read minds, her sharp tongue somehow always licking at your biggest insecurities.
She takes his usual silence as an invitation to keep talking.
“You recommended that I sharpen his skates, remember?” She says with a gentle flick to his forehead. He bats her hand away as his face grows warm. “He came in two days ago. Wouldn’t shut up about you.” Toge avoids her piercing gaze that was filled with entirely too much joy at his embarrassment.
“He’s kinda hot, in a sort of Edward Scissorhands kind of way. If you’re into that.”
Toge is incredibly into that.
*****
Nitta, a broken down Zamboni, and the rancid smell of an overfilled trash bin greet Toge as he enters the Domain arena’s back door. She’d been kind enough to sneak him in for the last forty minutes of the early public session and he shows his thanks by handing over a large frappe and bagel with an ungodly amount of cream cheese. The chances of running into Yuuta were low at this hour, after all this was when he was supposed to be in his ancient literature class, but Toge is taking zero chances.
When he’d explained his plan over a series of nervous texts, Nitta was surprisingly quick to agree. At first, he suspected her willingness to bypass both the entry fee (and the liability waiver of all things) was to score a free meal, but now he’s not so sure.
“So this is a surprise for Yuuta, hmm?” She muses playfully.
Hands full of his gear bag and his phone stashed away in his backpack, Toge can only nod in response.
“And you're going to learn a program to dazzle him with?” Nitta continues as they make their way around the back of the bleachers. The smaller practice rink comes into view at the entrance of the hall to the locker rooms.
Toge stops to scan the rink, making sure that—
“Yuuta isn’t here,” Nitta says, finishing his thought. “Relax. I would’ve ran interference if he was,” she finishes with a roll of her eyes. “Besides, it’s gonna be so cute to watch the two of you skate together,” she pauses, as if seemingly lost in thought as she sips at her drink.
“I bet if you pretend to suck at it he’ll hold your hand,” she says with a knowing wink and oh no Toge does NOT like where this conversation is going. The cool air of the rink does nothing to help with increasing heat of his cheeks as Toge pointedly begins to fiddle with the zipper on his bag.
Nitta is nothing if not cheeky as she offers a quick “Good luck out there,” before scurrying off to enjoy her meal in the break room.
Toge, for his part, is left to melt into a puddle of embarrassment at his apparent inability to hide his stupid big fat crush on Yuuta.
He wonders who else has figured it out.
*****
The first stride onto the ice goes as smoothly as he expects given a lifetime spent in a rink. The second goes as well as the first, emboldening him to really dig into the ice, muscles primed for speed. The third has him thinking he’ll be attempting his first jump by the end of the session.
The fourth is where it all goes to shit.
In what would become the main theme of today’s venture into new territory, Toge catches his toe pick on the ice. A small “chk” is all the warning he gets before he’s suddenly flying forward, right knee slamming onto the ice as his hands shoot out in front of him. The momentum is too much, and with a pained grunt he belly flops onto the ice, sliding a good five feet before coming to a stop. Thankfully, he’d managed to keep his chin from slamming down as well, but it’s little consolation given the new throb in his knee.
His pride hurts more than anything else.
How the fuck does Yuuta fall repeatedly, sans padding, and get up and skate like nothing happened.
It’s with a sigh of resignation that Toge hauls himself up, dusts the ice off of his pants, and continues on.
He skates along the edge of the rink, mindful of the casual skater as they tend to move unpredictably at times. Luckily today’s public session wasn’t all that busy, with no more than fifteen-ish people slowly shuffling around.
Two more laps around plus two more toe pick catches (which he managed to not eat shit on) has Toge feeling decently confident that he can begin some of his normal warm up routine.
He begins with slaloms, exaggerating the tilt of his feet as they swipe from side to side. The different hollow to which his blades were sharpened feels a little off, but it’s nothing he can’t work with.
Switching to one foot, he leans deep into his inside edge before bending his knee and rising sharply, switching to his outside edge, zig zagging his way down the ice. He changes legs, continuing his power pulls along the curve of the rink.
He transitions backwards, toe pick dragging in his c-cut. Taking things fairly slow, he glides in long arches towards the middle of the rink, heading for the middle circle.
The numerous YouTube tutorials come to mind as he begins backwards crossovers, and Toge raises his arms to “hug” the circle. It’s stiff, lacking in any of the beauty and grace Yuuta so effortlessly displays.
He picks up speed, moving in tighter circles until his footwork reaches that of what you’d expect in hockey. Toge manages to keep the pace for nearly two complete circles before it all goes to hell once again. Fully not used to the difference in blade length, there’s a horrible “clink” as the back of one blade slams into the toe pick of the other as they attempt to pass.
This time, Toge manages to take the brunt of the fall on his hip.
He’s really starting to hate this whole toe pick business.
“A little too late to throw on my pads,” he thinks with irritation as he once again hauls himself back up. A child, no more than 8 or 9, slowly skates past him, amusement in his eyes.
“Are you good or bad? You go fast but you keep falling?” Toge has half a mind to flip this kid off but doesn’t want to potentially start any drama with their parents. Instead, he gives a half hearted shrug before taking off with considerable speed towards an empty corner.
Just to prove a point (and also because his pride was as bruised as his knee), he turns sharply just before hitting the boards, coming to a stop with an impressive spray of ice.
The clock on the score board indicates roughly 30 minutes left in the public session. After, he’ll have a few hours to ice and rest his knee before practice that afternoon. He holds onto the boards as he lifts the leg he fell on earlier, giving it a few shakes to gauge just how much he’s potentially wrecked it. There’s a steady throb, but it’s mild. As long as he doesn’t push it too hard during practice, it’s nothing he can’t sleep off.
Fishing his phone out of the pocket on his hoodie, Toge is filled with both a sense of awe and, well fear isn’t the right word, but it’s the closest he can come up with, at Yuuta’s ability to routinely eat shit on the ice and act like it never happened.
He thinks Yuuta might be lowkey insane. Not just him, but all figure skaters in general. Yes, he gets knocked down and around on the ice on a regular basis, but his gear really does help with the repeated impact. He’s seen Yuuta’s ass in those fitted athletic pants he likes to wear and while it is nice, it’s certainly not cushioned enough for the beating it routinely takes.
Although it’s certainly well suited for another type of beating Toge thinks while grinning to himself.
Before he can get completely lost in the very appropriate thoughts to be having while wearing his own fitted pants, he brings up a YouTube tutorial for some very simple jumps.
His first attempt at a bunny hop fills him with a sort of thrill he hasn’t felt in a long time. Skating for hockey had become so ingrained for him that it was as familiar as walking. He simply did it. Sure he and his teammates messed around, doing little jumps and spins here and there, but it was always treated as a joke. They would hum waltzes and exaggerate their arms waving around, much like a young child pretending to be a ballerina.
The feeling of his feet leaving the ice, toe pick landing securely to then push him into a glide on the other foot as he comes down is exhilarating.
Up, down, glide. Up, down, glide. Up, down, glide.
If Toge could whoop with joy, he’d certainly be making a racket. This was nothing like his attempted jumps in his hockey skates with Yuuta all those months back. It was rhythmic, graceful, and with purpose. It was the most basic jump he could learn, but even Toge knew he was executing it damn near perfectly.
Feeling a little more ballsy than he should, he steps forward to glide on his left outside edge before swinging his right leg up, springing off his standing leg to whip halfway around, coming down on his right toepick. His left leg shoots out, low but confident in his check out.
‘Maybe I should learn a program,’ he thinks.
Cold air whips at his face as he attempts a spiral towards the middle circle, his leg as straight and high behind him as it can manage. Certainly it wasn’t as graceful as his bunny hops, but he didn’t fall so he’ll take all the wins he can get.
With only ten minutes left before the Zamboni driver begins impatiently waiting by the doors, Toge decides he’s going to attempt spinning. Having already learned to spin on two feet in his hockey skates, he makes a bold attempt at a one foot spin.
Throwing entirely too much power into his push off, shoulders twisted too much, arms swung far beyond where they need to be, he whips around towards his standing leg. All of these factors aside, which on their own would have put him flat on his ass, Toge catches the briefest glimpse of a green pony tail disappearing behind the bleachers towards the locker rooms. He crashes spectacularly, his standing leg practically flying out from underneath him, arms flailing as he goes down. He’s spared from whacking his head on the ice but his ass and back are definitely going to be feeling it later.
“Time to pack it in,” he thinks, sprawled out on the ice. It’s just as well, he needs to rush over to the locker room to make sure he was hallucinating Maki walking by. She’d already chewed him out over his extra practice time twice, and he doesn’t want to think about what she’ll do to him if she finds out he’s risking injury doing this.
She may actually resort to violence this time.
His knee screams in protest as he shifts from his back to kneeling. As he goes to stand, the universe decides to add one final insult to his numerous injuries, toe pick once again catching on the ice and sending him flying forward. The knee spared from his earlier fall offers itself as a sacrificial lamb. He avoids another belly flop, instead coming down hard on the heel of his palms.
“Are you fucking kidding me with this toe pick right now?!” He thinks wildly. Before he can gather himself to stand, the sound of someone banging on plexiglass has his head snapping up. Standing on the other side with a shit eating grin plastered to her face, Nitta waves enthusiastically before pointing towards the ceiling above the lutz corner. Still on all fours, Toge follows her line of sight only to experience the slow horror of remembering the rink’s cameras capturing his every move. When he turns back, she flashes him a double thumbs up before continuing on in whatever task she’d been doing.
He wonders what it will take to get her to burn the footage.
*****
Toge’s worst fears are confirmed as he’s pushing open heavy double doors to locker room one. Maki sits sideways on the bench, back resting against the wall and feet kicked up on his gear bag.
Clearly, she’s been waiting for him.
He nods in acknowledgment, putting on his best performance of ‘unbothered’ as he can muster. Maki can see through his bullshit better than anyone, but rather than call him out, she instead lets the moment simmer. It’s dead silent save for the gentle click of his hard guards as he reluctantly joins her on the bench.
“New skates?” She asks as if it weren't clear as day he wasn’t donning his normal hockey boots. “They seem fancy.”
Toge hums in acknowledgment but doesn’t meet her gaze. Never mind that even used this pair set him back nearly 55,000 yen, he doesn’t need a lecture on his finances from Maki of all people. He’s seen her bank account
“I didn’t see Yuuta out there with you,” she says, feigning curiosity. “Wouldn’t he be the best one to teach you?”
Maki is awfully calm about catching him putting in even more time on the ice. She’d absolutely lit into him a few days after Hakari’s party about all of his shared sessions with Yuuta, so her reaction of near amusement has him on edge.
He’s so preoccupied with unlacing his boots, he fails to notice the warming of his cheeks and ears.
Maki however, does not.
“He doesn’t know you’ve turned traitor, does he?” While the phrasing was accusatory, her tone is light, if not damn near teasing. “I thi—“
“I’ll wait until playoffs are over before continuing with this, okay?” He signs quickly, hoping to ward off her lecture over risking injury at such a critical time. “I was careful, I promise.”
His kneecaps disagree.
“I was GOING to say that I think it’s sweet you’d learn a bit of figure skating for him,” she continues, roughly pinching his cheek. “I’m assuming,” she adds on with a shrug.
There’s no ignoring the burn of his face this time as he quickly ducks down, making a show of unlacing the double knot on the remaining boot.
Maki goes to stand, body language shifting subtlety from loving-pain-in-his-ass to Captain. “If I catch wind of you taking any more risks like this, I’m bag skating the entire team. Got it?”
He nods quickly, trying and failing to hide his wince as he twists to open his gear bag.
Toge misses the change back to her more relaxed demeanor, occupied by digging around for his water bottle. She claps him on the shoulder as her good bye before turning towards the exit. “Gotta meet with Gojo to go over travel plans for playoffs,” she says before pausing just before the doors.
Maki stills for a moment, hand resting on the giant metal bar.
“It’s nice seeing you like this.”
Toge raises a brow at her as he chugs his water, not that she sees it, but even in silence she understands him.
“In love that is,” she adds smugly before shoving the doors open. Toge fully gags on his water before it spills out of his mouth, soaking the front of his hoodie.
“Take the night off! I saw you eat shit out there!” She calls before the doors slam shut, not once turning back to witness the destruction left in her wake.
Toge sits in stunned silence. Had he really been that obvious?
His phone dings.
Dread settles in his chest before he can even tap on the notification.
It’s a video.
From Nitta.
Shit.
In record time she’d downloaded the footage, cut it, and stitched it into a highlight reel of all his wipeouts, complete with sound effects.
Under it, there’s a text that reads;
If you want to keep this between us, it’s gonna cost you. 🫴🧋🍜
Of course it is.