Skater Boy

Clumsy Strangers

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Six.

Six people showed up for the public session. A perfect amount; too few to get underfoot, but just enough not to feel awkward around.

None seemed to mind when the usual Disney music was interrupted by his routine, though it was a bit distracting to have all six sets of eyes watching on as he practiced.

In the end, he was glad to have taken the extra ice time.

Forty five minutes in, he took a moment to listen through his music, mentally reviewing the steps while he took a drink and a break.

Blowing his nose and tossing the tissue in the bin, he went to grab his water bottle for one more drink when the sight of a clumsy public skater came falling into his view.

Instinctively fearing a collision, he shoved a hand out for the person to grab, catching him just before he'd've hit the ice. Stunned, a bit of blush flashed his cheeks as the guy hoisted himself up with the aid of the wall and the outstretched hand, unable to speak when their eyes met.

Silence snapped the air as his mouth opened in search of absent words, each mismatched eyed failing to blink away from the clumsy stranger's enthralling gaze.

"Y-You know, those rental skates are never sharpened, pretty slippery." Barely managing the words he could see the guy hesitate toward his poor grasp at humor before cracking a slight, gentle, smile.

"Oh, um, thanks, thank you, sorry," the flushed freckled skater laughed ever so gently, brushing a few bangs away with his free hand. "I, I'm a mess on the ice."

Another pause halted the air and each attempted to look away, only finding that their hand were still linked. Blinking several times over, emerald green eyes widened and the young man's tight grasp let up a bit.

"Ah, my apologies," letting his own iron grip go, Todoroki gave what could be assumed was an attempted smile, before quickly glancing away to a hockey banner and back down to his skates.

"Thank you for that," yet another quiet lull struck their conversation and each made as little eye contact as possible. "I-I'd better go catch up with my friends, this was their idea after all."

"Yes, of course. Be careful."

"Ha, I'll try, but I'll probably never get the hang of this."

"You know," he began again, seeming to have only this one conversation starter. "The rink offers a beginner adult class on Saturdays if that'd interest you?"

"Oh, ha... well, actually, um, I guess. I might have to check that out. Thank you!"

"You should get back with your friends now, they're probably waiting on you," the skater said flatly, keeping his outer cool while internally flailing to end this conversation.

"Yeah, definitely," Giving himself a cringe-worthy toe-push, he flashed another endearing smile, and offered a little wave. "Thanks for the help,"

Then, he skated off, joining up with a small group of equally bad beginners, and leaving the terribly muddled Todoroki in his wake.

Physically shaking off the encounter, he set his waterbottle on the boards, skating back to the center for another run through of his program.

The rest of the morning went alright, though he did wish time didn't pass so quickly while he'd been skating. In all fairness, he did get off ice with several minutes to spare, in attempt to leave before the public skaters to avoid anymore awkward banter.

He didn't bother to put his shoes back on, just dried his blades, and pull on his guards, collecting his stuff before paying the registration woman, and leaving for his car.

As usual, he dumped his stuff on the passenger side floor, and prepared to drive back home, but not before taking off his skates, electing to wear his cat socks for the duration of the short drive.

Of course, prompted by the growling of his stomach, he stopped by one of the local Starbucks drive-thrus and picked up a little breakfast.

He wanted to say it was a treat, but, he indulged in this ritual far too often– at least twice a week, which severely reduced its status as a treat. Still, it was good.

Later that morning, Todoroki entered his apartment, pink drink in one hand, skates dangling from the other, visibly exhausted.

In routine, he set his skates by the door, keys on the hook, drink on the coffee table, and ducked into his room for a change of non-sweaty clothes. Which ended up being a plain white t-shirt, framed by an unbuttoned button-up and unintentionally ripped jeans.

Finally feeling himself decompressing, he partook in his morning routine, wandering about, watering plants, washing last night's dishes, and other such dull daily tasks.

Free time was a large portion of his days, he did have a job of course, being one of the 12 instructors at the rink, but he wasn't hosting any classes or privates until the next evening, so there was plenty of time to do whatever he pleased.

Today, he pleased to visit his mother, Rei; see how she was doing after the recent divorce, and help her finish moving into her little townhouse, though, that wasn't until noon, two hours from then, plenty of time to finish his chores.

Chores that he happily finished early, earning time to read on the porch in the crisp autumn air.

Gentle breezes whipped his hair about, turning the the pages of his book, 'Song of Achilles', as if a phantom was enjoying the novel alongside him, flipping through the pages at its own speed.

In truth, it was quite peaceful, quite lovely.

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