Chapter Text
Prologue
The crowds were thick at the skate park tonight. All around them were the woops of strangers, cheering on any skater brave enough to drop in and show off their best move. Why was it so busy tonight? Supposedly, according to rumors, there was a scout watching somewhere, looking to choose their next big skater, to train them into a national professional. To be discovered could equate to quick fame.
Reki glanced over the dense crowd while in line at the top of the half pipe, looking for Kaoru and Joe. When he spotted them, he lit up and waved subtly at them. They waved back.
Turning behind him, Reki hooked an arm over his little brother’s shoulders and gestured to the crowd. “Miya, our dads are waving. Wave back!”
Miya, a moody-as-hell preteen 12-year-old, looked mortified when Reki moved Miya’s arm for him to wave at their parents. Joe’s face lit up in an amused chortling laugh that was lost in the crowd but Reki could hear his booming laugh in his mind from 7 years of living with them.
“Get off me,” Miya grouched, yanking his hand away, his face heating up in embarrassment.
Reki used his hand to pinch at his cheek. “What, you’re too embarrassed to be seen with me? I remember when you used to hang off of me!” Reki laughed.
Something in Miya’s expression flickered from annoyance to concern and back again. “No. Just stop being obnoxious right now!” His voice squeaked in the way that Reki’s had as he went through puberty. Reki held back from making fun of it, knowing he was sensitive about it.
“No one knows us here,” Reki said, taking his hand away and picking up his board. “We’re essentially nobodies. We have nothing to lose!”
“Well, I’m not worried about that,” Miya said, expression settling decidedly annoyed again. “Let’s just not embarrass ourselves.”
Reki scanned the crowd, looking through the sea of skaters and onlookers. “What do you think the scout looks like?” he asked, tilting his head over his shoulder.
Miya’s eyes roamed the crowd. “I have no idea. He’s probably not even here.”
Shrugging, Reki picked up his board as another person dropped in, taking a step forward in the line. “Either way, let’s have fun and show off our moves. Kaoru and Joe haven’t been training us since kids for nothing!”
“Right,” Miya said, fiddling with his board. He looked nervous.
Reki told him, “I’ll go first. That way you can show me up. I’ll make you look super impressive.”
Miya got a weird look on his face, like he wanted to punch him. “Don’t sabotage yourself. I mean it.”
“I won’t,” Reki said. He hadn’t actually planned to. He just wanted Miya to feel okay and confident. Even though he acted like he wasn’t worried, he knew his brother and he knew Miya was nervous to have this many eyes on him. The two of them usually just skated casually together most nights and sometimes it would draw a small crowd, but nothing like this.
“You promise?” Miya asked, his expression serious.
“Dude, what do you take me for?” Reki laughed. But he held out his pinky like they’ve been doing since kids, since that first time Joe made Reki to promise not to sleep on their hallway floor when he was scared.
Miya smiled minutely and linked their fingers together quickly, as if he didn’t want people to see this moment between them. It made Reki laugh, which in turn made Miya glare.
The next skater dropped in front of Reki and he felt his heart flutter with excitement and nerves. This was it. This was his time to shine.
He tracked the skater in front of him as he completed a kick turn on the other side and came speeding back. The rules of tonight are that you dropped in, completed a trick on one side and then came back, did another, and then you would exit the halfpipe into the crowd. There were too many skaters at the park tonight to allow more time per person.
The skater slowed and walked off the pipe. Reki’s eyes snapped briefly to his dads—Joe nodded at him warmly, Kaoru had a stoney gaze that Reki read as Do Your Best. With that, Reki dropped in.
When Reki watched other skaters, the time went really quick, but when he was on his board, heart thumping, time seemed to slow. He kept low, knees bent, gaining speed as he popped up on the other side of the ramp.
At the top, the world tilted side ways as Reki kicked his board, sending it into a 360 flip, and just as fast it came, he landed down on the board, gaining a wave of gasps from the crowd. People were always surprised that some 15-year-old kid could just pull off a move like that, but it was Reki’s best trick.
He was coming up on the other side and he was determined to try the trick that he and Kaoru had been working on. He caught a glimpse of Miya as he attempted it, a move he hadn’t yet landed in practice. He placed his hand on the top of the ramp, grabbing his board with his other hand, and used his momentum to spin. This part he had down and it always looked impressive in the videos Joe or Kaoru took of him. The part that sucked was—
His board landed back down and his balance wasn’t there, so he ended up falling and sliding down the rest of the pipe. The crowd were split between cheers and gasps of concern.
Reki figured that would happen though and he breathed heavily with adrenaline, getting up quickly to grab his board. As he walked off, he sent a thumb’s up at Miya, who for some reason was glaring at him.
“Nice going, kid,” Joe said, pushing through the crowd to drop a supportive hand on his shoulder. “You did good.”
“Thanks,” Reki said grinning as Kaoru pushed his way to the front as well. Reki turned his head away from them just in time to see his younger brother punch his foot into his board forcefully, as if frustrated, and he leaned into his board as he swooped across the halfpipe. On the first side, Miya completed a trick that both of them could do, but it gained the whoops and cries of the whole crowd. Reki yelled with them, “Come on, Miya!”
At the other side, Miya flew into the air, his black hair lifting with the gravity as he completed a flip flawlessly on his board, his expression stoney all the while. The crowd went wild for this 12-year-old kid who’d just completed an advanced move like it was nothing. Miya landed and slid to a stop, not even acknowledging the crowd as he picked up his board and walked off in their direction.
“Holy crap, Miya!” Reki cried. He’d never seen Miya do that trick so perfectly! It was incredible! “That was awesome!”
Miya’s stoney expression turned angry. “What the heck was that, Reki?”
The crowd around them had turned their attention on next skater, luckily, fall deaf to their conversation. Reki stared at him wide-eyed. “What?”
“You promised! You weren’t supposed to sabotage yourself!”
Reki flinched at his raised tone, despite it being lost somewhat in the excitement around them. He couldn’t help his flinch; it was instinctual ever since he was a kid. “I didn’t!”
Miya rolled his eyes at him. “You haven’t even mastered that one yet. Why didn’t you pull out any of your other tricks? You’re so good at skating, Reki!”
Reki didn’t know what to say, lost for words, but Joe jumped in, “Hey, Miya. Let Reki skate the way he wants to.”
“He doesn’t think he’s good,” Miya said, frustrated and he looked on the verge of tears.
It made Reki panic, not knowing quite what was wrong with Miya. What did he do this time? “Hey, Miya, I’m sorry.”
Miya’s expression steeled back into a glare.
Kaoru looked between them, looking just as confused as how Reki felt. He looked like he was about to say something when a stranger came to stand behind them, drawing their attention away from the situation.
“I’m sorry,” the nondescript man interrupted. He gestured to Miya. “I just wanted to talk to this kid.”
Joe folded his arms, looking the man up and down with a heavy judging glare. “Why do you want to speak to my kid?”
“Oh, you’re his father?”
“Both of us are, actually,” Joe said, gesturing to Kaoru, his frown practically daring the man to say something about it.
“Great,” the man said simply. “Could all of you step aside with me?”
“What is this about?” Kaoru asked suspiciously.
The man looked to Miya. “What’s your name, kid? How old?”
Miya’s confusion was written all of his face as he said, “Miya Nanjo. Twelve.”
“You might be the youngest that we’ve ever asked to sign on.”
“Sign on?” Joe asked.
Reki gasped. “You’re the scout!” he hissed, trying to keep his volume low to not alert anyone around them.
The man smiled. “Yes, that’s me. Why don’t we step aside?” He started to lead the way out of the crowd just as voices rang out around them about another skater.
Joe and Kaoru followed after; Kaoru looked back at them and gestured them to follow.
Reki shifted his board in his hand, reached out and tugged on Miya’s green cat sweatshirt, dragging him through the crowd. Halfway through, he slung his arm over his brother’s shoulders and leaned in. “Can you believe this, Miya? The scout picked you.”
Beside him, Miya simply looked shocked and conflicted. “There’s so many skaters here though.”
“It’s because you’re the best,” Reki told him enthusiastically as their little family was led off the skatepark lot and down the street. They stopped under a lamp post, the trees behind them blocking their view of the skatepark. The sounds and cheers had grown distant.
The man had stopped in front of Kaoru and Joe, flipping a business card out of his pocket and presenting it to their parents. Kaoru took it, studying it closely. The man said, “I represent a team of skaters that we train for the Japan National Skateboarding Team.”
“The one that goes to the Olympics,” Joe said, looking up from the card in Kaoru’s hands. “Isn’t Miya a little young for that?”
“For the national team, yes. But we are looking for young skaters to train and get their names out in the public eye while attending and competing in junior skating competitions until they are ready to be placed forward for the national team. Who knows? If he’s good enough at the competitions, maybe they’ll take their youngest skater yet.”
Kaoru looked to Miya, still tucked under Reki’s arm. “What do you think Miya?”
Miya looked to Reki.
Reki squeezed Miya’s arm. “I know that you want to do this,” Reki encouraged.
Miya frowned, conflicted. “Can my brother join, too?”
Reki glanced at Miya in surprise while the man shook his head. “Unfortunately, we are only looking for one person.”
His response seemed to make Miya scrunch up strangely. Reki patted him on the shoulder because he supposed maybe Miya was nervous. This could be life-changing after all.
Joe looked away from Miya. “Can we think about it?”
“Of course,” the scout said. “Just call the number on the back of my card and we can discuss the nature of a contract.”
Kaoru passed the business card to Miya, who looked down at it intently. Reki looked at it over his shoulder, looking at the official logo. Then it hit him. This could actually be real. Miya could become an actual professional and for a split second, Reki’s chest hallowed.
“Do you think I could actually do it?” Miya asked Reki, staring at the card and then tilting his head up at him. The adults were talking amongst themselves and didn’t hear Miya’s quiet question. Miya searched Reki’s eyes and he looked so vulnerable.
Reki tightened his arm slung across his shoulder, squeezing him to him. “I know you could.”
Miya’s bangs fell into his eyes as he looked down. “Are you going to be okay if I do?”
Reki’s heart twisted. He hated when Miya worried about him rather than worrying about himself first. Reki sighed fondly at Miya. “Miya, I’ll be 100% fine, no matter what, okay? I want you to live out your dream.”
Miya studied him, as if looking for a lie, but Reki was being genuine. He and Miya had been through a lot—from Reki’s adoption into their family to Reki’s panic attacks to his long-fading childhood trauma to Reki’s loss of friends over the years… Miya’s been there for all of it.
Miya worried about him too much.
It was Reki’s turn to be supportive.
“I mean it,” Reki emphasized.
That satisfied Miya, must’ve, because he looked back to the card and said resolutely, “I think I’ll do it.”
The adults paused mid-conversation. Kaoru reached over and swept Miya’s bangs out of his face. “You sure?”
He glanced at Reki once more and Reki smiled encouragingly. “I’ll do it,” Miya said again.
“Hey, that a kid!” Joe celebrated, reaching out and yanking Miya to him, gathering him into a hug, slipping out from Reki’s arm.
“We’ll support you,” Kaoru soothed, as he took Miya’s other side to hug him in between both parents.
Miya spat and struggled like being hugged by his parents was an offense. The scouter laughed with them and started to explain more of what they could do next.
Reki stood behind them, grinning at the back of his family’s heads as they celebrated Miya and Miya listened intently at the explanation of what he would do once he signed.
Reki was happy for Miya, really, truly.
But his smile eventually slipped and the hollow feeling was back.
It was fine. It was.
Kaoru looked back at him and Reki smiled again, stepping a bit closer, hugging his board to him, pretending to listen along with them. He forced the weird feelings aside. He should be, needed to be, happy for Miya.
So, he was. He was happy.