Silent Knight (OHSHC)

Ten Months Before

There was something chilling about how oblivious the crowd was.

To them, this was just another competition. It was just another chance for me to either fly through my jumps as if I'd been born on the ice--or to fall and truly hurt myself. For me, it'd become a cliff.

My feet toed an open edge, one wrong move and I'd be plunged into an unfathomable nothing. Dramatic? Certainly. But every part of my body screamed that this situation called for such extreme comparisons. After all, if I fell here, my career was over.

He would make sure of it.

As I propelled myself to the center of the ice, my eyes sought out his face. His once warm, hazel eyes were as hard as stone. The last two months seemed to have added years to his tanned face, putting wrinkles where there'd once been smooth skin. Among the crowd, his traditional dress stood out. The few business men and women seated in our reserved section seemed to create a smaller version of the Tokyo black sea, my uncle's blue-and-white kimono a small island.

I forced my eyes away from him--meeting his gaze now could only lead to failure.

He'd made our private rules to this competition stark. If I failed to place second, giving me a new shot at qualifying for the national tourney, then this would be my last day on the ice. Never again would I slide into the familiar, skin-tight silk of my costume and glide into place before hundreds of eyes. If I couldn't be the best there was no point. No one cared about the girl who'd once been the face of the sport. As he reminded me daily, the public only remembered those with whole talent.

There was no room for a broken skater.

I drove the memories of failed performances from my mind. I closed my ears to the murmuring crowd, my eyes to the lights focused on my position. Dropping my chin to my chest, I brought my arms up into the arc I'd practiced over a million times. On the ice, the only thing that mattered was the routine. I couldn't think of the broken thing inside me, nor could I allow myself to be distracted by the soft music notes flooding the arena.

A single, deep breath.

My blades cut into the ice as I surged forward, drawing my foot across the ice in a smooth motion that reminded me of the days before.

Focus, I urged myself. Focus!

A twist, a turn.

A foot up here, a sweep of my arm there.

Next, the first jump.

The beautiful crack of my landing was sweeter than any music. Something clicked inside of me. I could do this. I wouldn't fall apart.

I could breathe.

"You'll come, won't you?"

My ankle twisted, hands brushing the ice in a last minute effort to prevent myself from completely crashing into the ice.

I recovered.

Later, the points were awarded, and my legs numbed. The cliffside crumbled beneath my feet. Downward, I fell, towards into the black nothing.

Because, third place wasn't good enough.

And some part of me knew, this was what I deserved.

After all, what right did I have to be happy, here, on the ice when my entire family laid beneath the earth?

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to my rewrite of Yours to Hold. If you haven't noticed--I'm changing a lot.

Hopefully, you enjoy the changes, and this story finds as much love as the previous version did. 

Until next time...

--Unchained.