Âmes en peine (English ver.)

²¹ 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

On the verge of a panic attack, Hana couldn't breathe.

Her bag containing her skates swinging carelessly over her shoulder, the skater hadn't even taken the time to change. She had stormed out of the rink, still wearing the black, close-fitting outfit she used to wear when training on the ice. The irrepressible urge to leave this place, the source of her anxiety, as quickly as possible had, once again, taken precedence over everything else.

Outside, it was dark. The sun had already set a few hours ago. It was past eight o'clock when Madame Aksakova had allowed her to leave. It had been the same thing for a month. As well as becoming a daily occurrence, her training sessions had become much longer, increasing from an average of three to five hours a day. Each time, Hana came out more exhausted than the last, after her coach had gone on and on with a detailed debriefing.

And as if that weren't enough, Hana was always treated to an unpleasant reminder of all the new constraints that accompanied this new training rhythm. In addition to having to run every morning to keep her cardio up, the brunette had embarked on an even stricter nutrition program. No deviations were allowed, and with a grandmother who knew figure skating training programs better than anyone, there was no way Hana could escape.

And of course, to add insult to injury, she had to do it with a smile on her face, the proof that coming from a family that swore by skating didn't have only its share of advantages.

But right now, Hana was far from smiling. The anguish that built up with each new day weighed more and more heavily on her heart, and the young woman knew she was not far from reaching her limit. The pressure was only increasing.

This time, much to his chagrin, even leaving the rink wasn't helping his anxiety. Her breathing wouldn't calm, her heart pounded painfully in her chest, and her limbs shook furiously. The knot in her stomach was back in her throat, and her eyes stung unpleasantly. Hana knew it. The crisis was imminent. She recognized the symptoms all too well.

As usual, the bus stop was deserted at this late hour.  Hana placed her bag at the foot of the lamppost and didn't wait a second before taking out a cigarette and lighter, a bad habit that had been gradually taking its place in her lifestyle over the last month. She still had in her possession the pack of blondes she'd mistakenly taken from Akaashi, and helped herself from time to time. There was one third of them left, but the orange-tipped tubes seemed to be running out. The brunette was beginning to understand what people meant when they said it helped calm them down.

She could only give credit where credit was due.

Only Hana hadn't taken into account that her numb fingers wouldn't be cooperating tonight. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep the lighter burning long enough. This only added to her frustration, and probably if no one had approached her at that moment, the young woman would have started screaming.

Hana didn't even think of asking him what he was doing there, contenting herself with wordlessly accepting the flame Akaashi brought to the cigarette she'd wedged between her trembling lips. She thanked him silently with her eyes before taking a long drag, burning her throat.

A few inhalations later, a semblance of calm finally appeared, replacing her anger with an irrefutable sense of injustice, as her frustration did not subside. She could have burst into tears if she hadn't tried so hard to contain herself. And yet, he was still there. He hadn't moved an inch since he'd helped her. The fact that he hadn't just happened to be there slowly made its way into Hana's mind, but she didn't have to mention her hypothesis for him to confirm it.

—It isn't smart to skip the first school week, said the boy in a neutral tone. The warden won't overlook.

Hana arched her eyebrows imperceptibly. They hadn't seen each other in over a month, and this was the first thing that came to his mind? As if he really cared about classes. One might even wonder if he still knew his place in the classroom.

—My absence was planned, she informed him in a more or less controlled voice. But it was exceptional, just for this week. I had several interviews and medical tests to run.

Hana took a deep breath.

—I'll be back competing early next year, in March.

Akaashi remained silent. Congratulations would probably have been necessary if she hadn't announced it in such a defeatist tone. It didn't take to be a mind reader to figure out that she wasn't too happy about the prospect, so he didn't bother with polite remarks that he knew were more annoying than anything else.

—I thought you didn't want to, he finally retorted sincerely. What made you change your mind?

I had no choice. This answer burned Hana's lips, but she didn't say it out loud. Pity was the last thing she needed right now. She didn't want to come across as weak, least of all in front of the young man. He'd already seen her in the grip of her emotions far too often. At all costs, the brunette wished to preserve what little dignity she had left.

—When I'm skating, it's the only time my grandmother gives me a break.

As soon as she'd finished her sentence, Hana bit the inside of her cheek. Even if it was the whole truth, this explanation sounded even worse than her first thought. Now she really sounded desperate. Pathetic. What little serenity she had regained had just been shattered, and the cigarette end she held between her fingers was no longer of any use to her.

—I thought you didn't smoke, sneered the student, noticing her annoyed pout.

—Look who's talking, she retorted, giving him a sideways glance.

—Right now you're the only one with a cigarette, by the way.

Indeed, he wasn't lying. No matter how much she looked, there was surprisingly no cigarette dancing between the boy's fingers or between his lips. Even more surprising: no matter how hard she searched in her memory, she realized that he hadn't, in fact, smoked at all in her presence, though she had no doubt that he had everything he needed on him.

—It's exceptional, we'd say.

He just wanted to tease her, so he did.

—We'll talk about it again in four years, when you're addicted, he retorted, shrugging carelessly.

—You mean, when I'm visiting you on your deathbed for lung cancer?

His remark drew a slight laugh from her, and unconsciously, Hana began to smile too.  At the same moment, they heard the distant sound of an engine. The bus had just arrived.

—Do you have plans tonight? She asked suddenly and bluntly. The old witch's probably already asleep, she won't hear us.

She desperately needed to take her mind off things, and it just so happened that her lover fulfilled this function perfectly. So she didn't think twice before dragging him along, not even bothering to wait for his answer. In any case, the fact that he obediently followed her, with a satisfied grin to boot, spoke louder than any words. In a way, it was exactly what he'd hoped for by waiting for her that evening.

Presumably, Hana wasn't the only one looking for a good time.