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"GOD, MY LEFT FOOT is so fucking numb."
Isagi finished tying his shoelaces, now done with changing back to his casual clothes. He had been practicing hard, training all day now that both he and Nagi were considered Japan's best chances at winning the Grand Prix.
But hey, no pressure.
Nagi snorted; he had been waiting for him. They usually walked together on their way home. "Good thing all your blisters are on it. At least you didn't complain about them today."
Isagi rolled his eyes. He wasn't that much of a crybaby. "You know how chicks say, 'beauty is pain?' Skating is the real pain. Ego always says, If you aren't willing to fall-"
"You're not willing to learn, I know," Nagi completed. He pushed the main door open, and Isagi waved politely to the people at the reception. It was late, and aside from staff, the rink was almost empty. "Thought you would've memorized some of Noel's quotes by now," he added.
"Noel," Isagi huffed. "He's Mr. Noa to you, dickhead. I'm the one training under him."
"How lucky," Nagi whistled, just to mock him.
Isagi brushed it off, laughing. "Yep, all while you're stuck with good old Ego."
"I'm still beating you, though."
"Not for long...." Isagi quieted down, looking at the empty bus stop in the next street. When he and Nagi were worked down to their bones, they usually took the bus for a shortcut to at least three streets.
Habits were hard to break, and even worse were routines. But considering no bus was there yet, and they were better off just walking, Isagi finally voiced a proposition that had been running through his head since they left. "Let's go to the hamburger place," he smiled. Then, "the guys are already there."
Like Isagi expected, Nagi focused on the first part of the sentence to avoid growing annoyed at the second. "Thought hamburgers go against your diet."
