the devil skates on thin ice ∙ myg ✓

1 ↝ the rivalry

Rivalries between sports are no uncommon feat at Korea National Sport University.

It is a known fact that the soccer players are vehemently contentious with the football players. The judo team has been feuding with the taekwondo team for more than a decade, passed down through the generations of students. These vies, although genuine, are for the most part lighthearted. They exist within an air of competitiveness when it comes to sharing specific grounds and stadiums. Thus, the threads of these rivalries are no more than something that tauten whilst in their respective team uniforms, and then loosen over beers and whiskey sours at the campus tavern. Worst enemies on the field; respected friends in every other case.

But nothing can compare to the sheer loathing that exists between the captain of the ice hockey team, Min Yoongi, and the school's elite figure skater, ___. That right there is as authentic as any enmity can ever be, and almost all of KNSU knows it. The fierce war has been waging for a handful of tense years, and not a single soul, except themselves and their coaches, knows why.

For this purpose, the number one rule among the figure skating team and the ice hockey team is to never allow them to be in the same room. Well, more so, within the same stadium. A rule that, without much forewarning, Min Yoongi is about to break, and make his already bad day all the worse.

"Shit, it's fucking cold," he exclaims to nobody in particular, for he is the only one trudging along the sidewalk towards the ice arena. The decaying leaves that litter the path in a carpet of flame crunch beneath his sneakers.

The sky is already soaked in navy. The horizon provides an inkling of telltale daylight in sparse hues of indigo. Yoongi longs for the presence of summertime evenings, where sweat remains to stick between his shoulder blades, and the firmament shimmies in brilliant tones of vivid tangerine.

It sounds ironic for an ice hockey player. But that is when the sport is at its peak, as there is nothing quite like exiting the dry, stagnant air of mid-July that sears layers from the insides of your lungs to enter a stadium of ice. It is the equivalent of pouring cold water on a burn, though infinite in its magnitude of satisfaction.

On the other hand, winter makes it thrice as difficult to gather the motivation to train. You go from sub-zero temperatures to a climate that is marginally warmer; only by about two degrees. Then, you must strip down to the bare minimum of sweatpants and a thin sweater and throw a set of bulky, uncomfortable protective gear over the top.

Yoongi makes it sound like he hates playing ice hockey. But that is certainly not the case; an unfair contradiction to his role as the captain. His hockey stick has practically been a second limb since the age of eight. Simply, he despises the cold. For the incessant chill of a winter breeze, which finds its way beneath layers of polyester and wool, always manages to uproot sensations from his bones that he would much rather keep repressed. Bad memories are buried in the snow. They are trapped beneath the frozen surface of a lake, and Yoongi waits with his lip tucked between his teeth for the sunshine to return—to melt the anxiety away.

The cold is a grim dream that he forgets all about once the earth is draped in maple gold warmth; only to arise again when winter returns a year later.

Or, until he sees her face.

The scattered leaves begin to dance, floating with the tendrils of air that lift them from beneath. Yoongi breaks out into a jog. He focuses on the light of the stadium ahead; the thump-thump of his sports bag against his hip. He clenches his jaw, ignoring the nip of late-autumn's teeth against his face, the glacial fingers that card through his inky mess of hair, and merely pulls himself tighter into his own being. A feeble attempt of protection. After years of practice, it almost begins to work.