Skater Boy

Tuesday

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It went well.

It went well.

The lesson went... well.

So why, why was Todoroki still thinking about it?

The lesson was as good as any other lesson but it stuck in his mind, oozing out in sap-like thought. He tugged on taut laces, pulling them far to tight in haze, pain of snug boots able to drag him back to reality.

Cursing under his breath he loosened them back up, physically shaking the thoughts away, to no avail.

This was nothing like that few bad lessons he'd had to teach, nothing like those monotonous frustrations, and yet it stuck in mind the same way, considerations of better phrasing, plans for next lesson, new skills, swarming any empty space in his flurrying mind.

He only ever took on students he felt had the highest potential, there was no point in wasting time with beginners, despite it, here he was.

Maintaining a flushed neutral expression, he stood, rink bag in hand. All he needed was to step onto the ice, all he needed, was to clear his mind.

It helped. But only to a length. A stiffness in performance echoed this sort of frustration, far from anger, rather a confusion— a feeling Todoroki had never handled well.

Yaoyorozu noticed, as she always would have.

"Get over here!" She beckoned, hoping to stop this uncontrolled, stiff, mess of skating. He'd obliged, letting another wave of frustration roll through his figure, as he made an inquisitive grunt. "What's wrong? You're skating... weird."

"Thanks." An attempt at sarcasm hinted in his tone.

"No, no, you know what I mean,"

"The lesson went well."

"With the new guy?" He gave a nod, running a hand through disheveled hair. "That's good though, isn't it?"

"Yes... no... I don't know. I, I don't know why I offered in the first place."

"To teach?"

"Yes. I tend to only take lutz and above. Why him?"

"You said he has potential?"

"Yes, no..."

"Huh?"

"He could have potential. I want to help him have potential. But, it, he's barely able to
stand— I am unsure as to what I think I see."

"So you see something in him, but you don't know what?"

"There is a word I cannot find at the moment, but, something similar, yes."

"So what exactly is wrong?"

"It's stuck in my mind, as if there had been an issue, but I can find no explanation." How he could maintain that same old flat face and tone explaining this, Yaomomo would never understand.

"You should get back to practice." She murmured, barely containing a giggle.

"Aren't you going to help?" A hint of distress dusting his voice.

"Theres not really much I can do... but I will offer you a suggesting: invite him to that in-house showcase next week,"

"Why? It'd be boring, wouldn't it?"

"I couldn't say, and you don't have to take it, that's just my opinion,"

"Sorry, didn't mean to be brash."

"Eh, I didn't even notice. Now, get back to practicing, you might have a guest," her teasing smile painted a subtle undertone of an unreadable message. "Look, you'll have to find your question on your own, I can't answer it, best to just consult the ice,"

Consult the ice. Yaomomo's own personal slang for 'skate it out', something she'd said as long as he could remember. And, as usual, it was annoying, yet, he knew it would always work.

"Thank you,"

"No need. Go skate, I wanna see this new program."

Taking a deep breath, he found the music on her small i-pod, and handed her the speaker's auxiliary cord.

Unsurprisingly, consulting the ice worked. No, he didn't yet know the issue at hand, but his mind was calmer, and clarity finally felt... achievable.

Eventually, Yaoyorozu did join him on the ice, and when they were done, they shared a lunch in the empty bleachers, watching as the Zamboni made it's rounds, smoothing over the abrasions of that morning's successes and its falls.

They talked through full mouths of the showcase— she promised to run through her own program after her upcoming private, and costume bedazzling, all sorts of joyous nonsense that friends happen to chat about.

Haru wo Tsugeru, from the first take, by Yama, that was Yaomomo's choice of music. She played the song through while they finished up and he actually rather enjoyed it, a sort of dreamy song, the artist had a rather lovely voice as well, very airy and rich.

Her performance echoed it quite well actually, the airy depth, she'd always had a kind of light elegance to her skill, yet, it always maintained a  heavy depth (certainly reflected in her plethora of gold medals from the years).

Again, they chatted about her program, though this time to fill the minutes while her private student was running late.

The girl did eventually get there, and their talk quickly subsided, allowing Todoroki an hour or so to stretch on the benches, before his own student arrived— a quiet teenage boy he rather enjoyed teaching.

And, by three PM, another afternoon was in the books, so to speak.
And, once more, he collected his things, signed out, and drove home.

As per usual, he dumped his things in the pile by the door and got on with the dull duties of daily life. Unfortunately, it seemed his apartment needed a thorough cleaning, a thin layer of dust coating the furniture, begging for a wipe-down at the very least.

He obliged, finishing with perfect time to make a small meal to bring to his mothers, as her fridge was currently in the fritz. Now, Shouto was no cook, but he managed a bit of curry and rice, not terrible but it wasn't craze-starting either, and that was just right.

And despite it, he had this pit residing in his stomach, a small circling questing still loitering from the morning— Midoriya.

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