I Love You On Thin Ice // kazuscara

Epilogue

"Kaedehara Kazuha, Kawaga, Japan. 2022 Beijing Winter Olympics Champion." A voice in the announcement recited, the same monotone voice tickled Kazuha's ears. He's heard them so many times he swears that if he heard it one more time, he will destroy everything.

It was the Skating Gala. This time, none of his mistakes counted for points. There was no competition, there were no competing for the best. It was just the showcase of pure artistry and the sophistication of figure skating. 

On the skating gala, there were no limitations. You could do whatever you wished, do whatever you wanted. 

Kazuha walked out of the hallway lit by numerous rings. Stretching his body when he reached the threshold between a soft, plastic flooring, and the hard, cold ice. 

Before the Kazuha even made his way towards the ice, a loud voice in the stadium interrupted. 

"Where is Scaramouche?"

A buzzing string of agreements followed closely behind. Kazuha breathed out a laugh, skating towards one of the employees who handed him a microphone. He knew something like this would happen, he'd prepared for everything beforehand. 

He took the microphone and bowed slightly, thanking the employee. The employee waved a hand at him, telling him 'no problem'. 

He sighed into the microphone, and a loud breath was amplified; echoing in the stadium. 

"Scaramouche was not forgotten," Kazuha announced, 

"He will be here. But for that to happen, you will need to watch," he said before he turned off the microphone, placing it carefully back on the rim where it was. 

Tink...

Tink...

Tink...

And, twirl. 

Scaramouche's voice replayed in his head. It was how they had prepared his choreography. Kazuha has to give Scaramouche credits for being such a creative and talented choreographer. Every move he'd orchestrate, every twirl he'd add hit right on the sweet spot. 

The spotlight shone on him, he cannot see a thing except for the faint glow of the ice beneath him. 

The audience disappeared, the stadium disappeared, everything disappeared. He was alone in this shining beam of white light, it intimidated him. 

Like a doll forced to perform, he swallowed. He and Scaramouche had gone over all the preparation for Kazuha to stay calm under the strong light, even going as far as taking medications so Kazuha doesn't burst into a panic. 

Despite all, his legs still began to wobble. His eyes slightly defocusing, he squeezed them shut. Shaking his head to clear his mind. 

The light was blaring. It pierced his eyes. Like knives stabbing into his eyeballs, his sockets felt a tingly sensation. Like branches scraping across his iris, his eyes teared up. He didn't know if he should close his eyes; let them rest, or keep them open.

His eyes wearily darted everywhere, his fight or flight mode kicking in. He couldn't possibly fight something that cannot be touched, so the option that was left for him was flight. 

His breath hitched, he almost tripped over himself while skating. His chest felt heavy, like he was lifting dense weights with his ribcage. 

He didn't know what he was doing. His choreography barely in his mind, he forced himself to pretend he knew everything. He pretended to know them in the back of his head.