Thin Ice Rivalry

Best Buds and Beer

October 5th, 2019

MIDORIYA'S POV

I don't know what I felt first: the stick to the face, the skate to the leg, or my helmet falling from my head. I do know the last thing I felt was my face smacking into the ice. I picked myself up quickly like we're trained to do. The ref had already stopped the game, and they were currently working on breaking apart the giant fight that had broken out due to me getting injured. I mean, I wasn't injured that badly, but there would definitely be penalties coming.

A ref checked on me and saw I was bleeding from the stick to the face. Automatically, that's a double minor penalty for whoever gets sent to the box. With a sigh, I skated back to my team, already knowing I had to get off the ice long enough for them to check the bleeding. Immediately, the coach and team doctor looked at my face.

"Just a scratch," the doctor said while handing me a towel to dab on my face. "At least you'll have a power play coming up."

Just then, the ref announced a double minor high-sticking penalty for number 24. He skated off to the box, and the game continued.

"24 has been brutal this entire game," my teammate mentioned, nodding to the man in the box.

"He's from Columbus. He started his rookie year there and was traded," our captain said.

That explains it. Not only is he from a brutal team known for excessive force, but people from Ohio are generally angrier. I don't know what goes on in that state, but I'm glad I don't play there.

As soon as I stopped bleeding, I was back in the game. I rushed for the puck, glancing around the ice to figure out where the rest of my team was. We're in the final period and down by one point. This game has been back and forth. Whenever they scored, we also scored. We've been struggling through this period, though. It's the beginning of the season, and most of us are exhausted. I've been doing my best, but even I wasn't prepared for the brutality of this game.

We didn't manage to score on our powerplay, which was a missed opportunity, considering it was a four-minute powerplay. When there were two minutes on the clock, our Goalie skated off the ice and hopped the wall. Taking a deep breath, I focused on the puck, doing everything I could to get it into the net. Their defense was strong and a royal pain in my ass.

With nine seconds on the clock, we still hadn't made it into their net, and since ours was unguarded, the puck they sent soaring down the ice went into it, giving them another goal. When we reset and started the next play, we didn't try. With five seconds, we weren't going to win.

When the game ended with a final score of 5-3 in favor of Vegas, they all rushed their goalie, piling on the group hug.

We skated back to the wall and watched their celebration with a bitter taste in our mouths.

"Hey, man, we tried our best," someone told me. I don't know who said it, but it doesn't matter. As we made our way to the tunnel, Coach stopped us and told us to get in a line on the ice.

"Since when do we line up after every game?" I grumbled.

"We don't," the captain said. "Only the first one, apparently. Have to start the season off right."

Starting the season off right would have been us leaving with a win, not a loss.

Nonetheless, I fell in line with the rest of my team and shook everyone's hands. When I got to number 24, I shook his hand quickly and tried to let go, but he squeezed my hand tighter, pulling me to a stop and causing the person behind me to bump into me.

His red eyes looked up and down my body, not that there was much else to see other than the padding right now. It wasn't until his red irises flickered back to my eyes that he spoke. "Nice face," he said. Considering he's the one who put the shallow cut on my face, you would think he would have something nicer to say, or he would have ignored me, but no.