Chapter Text
Isagi Yoichi had always loved the cold.
Even as a little kid, his parents had trouble making him come in after a day in the snow. He would spend hours and hours out there, whether in a snowball fight with his friends or simply sitting down on the snow itself.
It only worsened after they enrolled him in figure skating lessons at their local ice rink. The other children would scramble over each other to get out of the rink when the classes finished, but not Isagi.
He would ignore them and continue skating with the ice rink empty of obstacles.
At first, the coach would chide him and ask him to leave the rink, telling him that the ice was not good for his small body, but Isagi refused each time.
I don’t mind the cold, he would always say. I feel alive, coach.
Eventually, the coach gave up, opting to watch over him from outside the rink. And as more time passed, he started to give him extra lessons. Isagi loved every single minute of it.
He has great potential, Isagi had heard the coach say to his parents. He didn’t understand the big words yet, but his parents smiled widely. I can’t teach him properly. But I made some calls and Teieri Anri is willing to take him in.
Teieri Anri had been a competitive figure skater when she was younger, known for her artistry and seamless flow between elements. She had also won a few Japanese Nationals and World Championships medals. Isagi didn’t know this at the time; all he knew was the new coach let him be on the ice longer and started teaching him so many new tricks.
Isagi Yoichi loved all the spins and the jumps and, above all, the cold.
When he turned eight and could understand bigger words, Anri taught him more than just spins and jumps. He was taught how figure skating works as a sport. This came with all the rules and numbers that made his head ache but he gladly took them in. After all, understanding them meant being on the ice longer.
Isagi learned a full routine when he was nine. At first, he struggled with connecting all of the elements, falling down over and over in a matter of minutes. It had hurt, but even through all of that, Isagi loved it. He felt like the ice was always there to cushion his fall, to stop him from getting a bad injury. He learned to love more than just the cold. Every jump, every turn, every spin, he learned to love all of them.
Every time he fell, Anri was there, arms held out, smiling at him. It’s okay, she would always say, gently pulling him up. You’re doing great, Isagi. And you’ll do even greater things. Then you can spend as long as you want in the rink, in the cold that you love so much.
And there was nothing that Isagi wanted more. The young skater pushed himself off of the ice and started the routine from the top.
In less than six months, Isagi had mastered the routine, not falling once in all his run-throughs.
At the age of ten, Isagi Yoichi made his debut as a novice skater at the Japan Championships, having won his regional championship. Despite it being his first nationwide competition, he won gold. His free program went smoothly; all his jumps landed perfectly, even with the difficult entry and exits. The crowd had roared when he had jumped and landed the double Axel. And again, when he landed his triple Salchow and triple Flip combination, his knee barely wobbled.
With each jump he landed, the crowd’s cheers grew in volume. By the time he posed in his ending pose, the crowd gave him a standing ovation, the screams deafening.
Isagi grinned, his heart beating so fast he felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. The crowd chanted his name, throwing flowers probably meant for other skaters down to the rink. Isagi circled the rink, taking everything in, letting the heat die down, replaced by the cold.
You did so well, Isagi, Anri had greeted him at the entrance, hugging him tight. So well. You’ll get to stay in the cold for a long time.
He won the next Japan Championship in the novice B category and got invited to compete at the Junior Championship. They had started calling him Japan’s Future Ace after that second gold medal.
Isagi Yoichi made his international junior debut at thirteen, with five triple jumps under his belt, at the ISU Junior Grand Prix at JGP Austria. It was the first time that Isagi had ever competed internationally. Still, it did not matter that the crowd was not as big as it was in Japan, nor that the ice was unfamiliar and much colder than usual.
He was there to win gold, and nothing would stop him. Not even the other skaters who glared at him or the ones who kept a close eye during his practice.
The short program went by without a hitch, and though he fell on the newly added triple Axel during the free program, he still ended up first.
On his international debut, Isagi Yoichi won a gold medal.
As the skaters took a victory lap, Isagi waved at the crowd, the biggest smile on his face. The gold medal hung heavy on his neck, and his body ached from doing all those jumps, but Isagi was happy.
His next assignment was JGP Canada, held two weeks after. He and Anri did their best to train the triple Axel. There was not enough time to perfect it, but Isagi felt more confident in the jump than before Austria.
I’m going to win again, Anri-san, he had said. Anri had smiled and patted his head fondly.
I’m looking forward to your performance, Ace.
Isagi managed to land all of his jumps during practice, and it reflected in his short program. He even managed to get a personal best score this time, outperforming many of the older competitors by a margin. His triple Axel did not fall apart the way it did in Austria, and though Isagi was not satisfied with how he landed it, he still ended up in first place.
Another gold for Japan’s Ace, Isagi Yoichi, the headline had said the next day. Isagi put his phone away as soon as he got on the rink, letting all the praises disappear into the back of his mind.
He was not good enough yet. Sure, he had jumped the triple Axel without falling and gotten positive grades of execution–or GOEs–but his entry and exit had no shine to them. Despite being so young, he was known for his difficult entries and exits, and the triple Axel lacked the life that all his other jumps had.
And so Isagi jumped. And jumped. Over and over again until he felt like he had drilled holes in the ice under his skates.
Not enough, not enough, not–
“How long have you been jumping, Ace?” A voice pulled Isagi out of his thoughts. Isagi skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding crashing into the rinkboard.
Bachira stood near the entrance, his grin as wide as ever. Isagi smiled back as he made his way over. Now that he wasn’t so engrossed in his thoughts, he could feel how sore his body was, how hard his heart was beating, and how hard it was to breathe. He wondered if he would’ve pushed his body to an injury if Bachira hadn’t interrupted him.
“Don’t know,” Isagi replied in a huff. Bachira was probably his only friend among the Japanese skaters. Their roster was deep, and Isagi was almost always training–whether for competition or just because he wanted to. If Bachira hadn’t approached him during one of his practice sessions before a competition, he probably wouldn’t have known anyone. “Congratulations on your silver, Bachira.”
Bachira smiled wider. “Thank you. And congrats on your gold, Mr. Ace.”
“Don’t call me that,” Isagi grumbled. He used to think the title was a good thing, but it had started to feel more like a heavy chain around his neck. The title served as a reminder that the Japanese Skating Federation had a lot of expectations of him, as did the Japanese people. “I’m not worthy of such a title yet.”
Bachira tilted his head but did not say anything. Instead, he simply handed him his guards. His face said that he would not take no for an answer, so although Isagi wanted to keep practicing, he took the guards and put them on.
“Let’s take a walk. I heard Richmond is really beautiful this time of the year,” Bachira said. Isagi looked away from his skates, eyebrows raised. “What?”
“We’re kids, Bachira. We’re not supposed to be going out by ourselves, remember?” Isagi winced when he pulled his foot out of the skates. It was bruised–as it often was–but the blacks and blues were darker than usual. Maybe he did overwork himself.
“Yeah, but we’re here by ourselves.” The practice rink was a few minutes walk away from their hotel, and neither of their coaches was there. Isagi sighed. “Come on, we’ll just walk around here for a few minutes, then we’ll go back to the hotel.”
Isagi should say no. Sure, he was only older by a few months, but he should know better. And yet, he nodded, pulling his backpack over his shoulders. Bachira somehow grinned wider.
The autumn weather greeted them, just warm enough to not bother him. The trees that lined the path had turned yellow and orange, with leaves falling gently to the ground. The sun started to set—the sight of it all stole Isagi’s breath.
“Glad you stopped practicing, Isagi?” Bachira kept his voice soft. Isagi nodded, not trusting his own voice. “I think we all need this kind of thing once in a while. Remind ourselves that there is life outside of our practices and competitions.”
Isagi couldn’t refute that. When he started his full-time training, he never took time for himself. It was always school, then straight to practice on weekdays. He had to be physically pulled out of the rink during weekends. In the last few years, though, when he had started competing, getting into the rink could sometimes be hard. But he kept going, only leaving once his body screamed for rest.
“Thanks, Bachira,” Isagi murmured. Bachira nudged him gently, keeping his eyes on the sunset.
Once the sky went dark, they began walking back, keeping to the well-lit area. The sweat from practice evaporated, and in its place, the wind caressed his skin gently.
Bachira asked, “Are you nervous about the final?”.
Isagi shook his head. “I’m more excited than nervous, to be honest. I know it’s just the junior level, but this is my first big competition. How about you? Are you nervous about your second assignment?”
“No. I’ll get gold in Czech and meet you at the final.”
“I’ll be waiting for you, Bachira.”
Bachira did not win gold in Czech.
Isagi had just finished the day’s training—perfecting the triple Axel and practicing the Lutz, his last triple—when a representative from the Japan Skating Federation burst in.
“We have two spots for the Junior Grand Prix Final,” she said.
Isagi made his way over to the wall of the rink. “Bachira won?”
“Silver.” Isagi furrowed his eyebrows. Bachira was good, way better than a lot of other skaters. Who could’ve won against him?
“Who won?” Anri asked.
“Michael Kaiser.” Isagi had heard of the name. Everyone who had been in the figure skating world long enough would. One year his senior, the genius prodigy from Germany had won competition after competition ever since his debut, until last year, when he injured his ankle.
Anri raised both eyebrows. “I thought he wasn’t supposed to be back yet until next season.”
“They had put his name in, probably intending to withdraw if he wasn’t healthy enough. But he is, and he won gold. My guess is that he will probably win gold in his next assignment as well.”
Isagi let a glimmer of a smile slip. He’d get to skate against one of the best skaters in the world.
Anri did not seem to agree, because, in the coming days, they changed up many of the elements. Lower-valued jumps became a combination, his spins became more difficult, and even the step sequence was leveled up.
The Grand Prix Final was held two months after the last JGP, on the 8th of December. By this time, Isagi was exhausted. His entire body ached, and he wasn’t even sure he could skate the short program cleanly.
“You okay?” Bachira asked, concern lacing his voice. Isagi held up a hand, trying to catch his breath. God, why did Anri decide to change the routine that they’d perfected over the months so last minute? To beat Kaiser?
“Well, if it isn’t Japan’s Ace.” The English made Isagi turn, only for his space to be crowded by a tall figure. He had to look up to see his face.
Michael Kaiser stood before him, his shoulder-length blonde hair tied into a messy ponytail.
“Is there something you need, Kaiser?”
Kaiser smirked, moving closer until Isagi’s back hit the board. “Oh, none. I just wanted to meet you, Yoichi Isagi.” His finger gently tilted Isagi’s chin up until all Isagi could see were his sharp, blue eyes. “I’ll call you Yoichi, okay?”
“Quit it.” Isagi pushed his hand away. “Don’t touch me, Kaiser.”
Isagi moved to leave him, but Kaiser’s hand still held onto his chin, tightening when he tried to move. “Yo-i-chi.” Kaiser emphasized the syllables of his name, moving so close that Isagi felt his breath on his skin. “I even came back sooner than expected to meet you, Japan’s Ace.”
“Your injury hasn’t healed yet?”
“Oh, it’s fine.” Kaiser pulled his leg up, wiggling his ankle. “Noel was the one thinking of letting me sit the Grand Prix out. But I came here. For you.”
Do Germans let 14-year-olds drink? Because Kaiser sure seemed drunk to him.
“Don’t let me down, ‘kay?” Kaiser smiled and leaned closer. He whispered a soft “bis später, Yoichi,” and kissed his cheek. Isagi’s cheeks heated up as he watched Kaiser leave with a wave.
Bachira leveled Isagi a bemused look. “Did you know him before, Isagi?”. Isagi shook his head.
“Only from the internet.” Bachira’s eyes followed Kaiser across the rink.
“He’s weird.”
Isagi chuckled. “He is. Do you want to do another lap?”
“Nah, let’s go get some food.”
The two left the rink, but Isagi could not shake the feeling that he was being watched.
The next time Isagi saw Kaiser was during the short program. Their starting order was determined by their wins, so with two gold medals, but this being his first Grand Prix Final, Isagi was skating second to last, sandwiched between Kaiser and Bachira.
Isagi tried his best to ignore Kaiser and focus on his warm-up. Unfortunately for him, the German had a bigger-than-life presence, seemingly filling in the entire ice rink, despite its size.
Focus. Or you’re going to be giving your gold medal to him.
Checking that nobody occupied the space ahead, Isagi turned, his left foot bending so he was using the outside edge, before digging his right toepick to the ice.
Isagi winced as he landed slightly to the right. He might have hit his head on the ice if he had landed too far to the right.
Bachira asked, coming up behind him, “You nervous, Isagi?”
“I am. You?”
“Yeah. Feels like my heart’s about to pump out of my chest.”
Isagi wondered if Kaiser felt the same or if he was just too good for things like that.
“Skaters, your six-minute warm-up is up. Please leave the ice,” the announcer said, cutting off his train of thought. “Once again, skaters, your six-minute warm-up is up. Please leave the ice.”
Isagi made his way over to the entrance, taking his guards from Anri. He gently slid them onto his skates and got off the ice.
Isagi felt a presence behind him and was about to walk faster when he felt someone breathing down his neck. “I’m looking forward to your performance, Yoichi.” Kaiser’s voice sent shivers down his spine, but he left before Isagi could say anything, talking in rapid German with his coach, Noel Noa.
“What did he say?” Anri asked, pulling him aside to wait for his turn.
“Just that he’s looking forward to my performance.” Isagi had decided not to tell Anri about what had happened during training. Since they were still juniors, there wasn’t as much coverage as the seniors, so he could keep it a secret. He did not need Anri to spiral even further, considering what she had done just after hearing that Kaiser was competing.
The rest of the skaters moved backstage, where they all watched the short program on the television provided. The first skater was a Canadian who fumbled two of his jumps. He had looked disappointed as he sat in the Kiss & Cry with his coach’s arm wrapped around his shoulders.
He got a score of 59.35.
The second and third short programs went better, but their scores were nowhere near Isagi’s best score.
The fourth one to go was Bachira, who covered the entire ice rink with only a few strokes of his blades. It would seem that he also had upgraded his skills during the time between competitions. His jumps stayed mostly the same, mostly triples with a double Axel thrown in, but the level of his spins and step sequences had gone up a level.
Bachira finished his short program with a score of 65.85.
“Go for it, Isagi.” Bachira patted his shoulders as Isagi walked into the rink.
The music that he’d listen to every day, memorized every beat and melody, had practiced for months to ensure perfect performance started.
Isagi landed his triple Axel to the cheers of the crowd. It wasn’t at the level that he wanted it to be yet, but he was still young. He’d have time to polish it in the years to come.
The triple loop was perfect, and the crowd seemed to think so as well. Their cheers were louder, and they only got louder as he went through each element. The camel spin, the combination jump, the new step sequence that Anri had drilled into him in the last few months, all done perfectly.
When Isagi stood in the middle with his ending pose, he saw some tears on the audience’s faces. He grinned widely, waving as he skated to the entrance.
Anri was there with his jacket and guards. He looked happy as he handed a water bottle and sat down on the Kiss & Cry.
“The scores, please.” Isagi held his breath, the seconds ticking by so slowly. “The short program score, 72.99 for Yoichi Isagi.”
Isagi threw his hands up, the audience cheering with him. Anri hugged him, and Isagi almost missed the announcer saying, “...new season’s best for Yoichi Isagi.”
And then it was Kaiser’s turn.
He skated like he owned the ice rink, each step confident—with that annoying smirk on his face. He stood in the middle of the rink, one arm above his head, the other below his chin, eyes closed.
The music started and Isagi could not look away. His eyes followed Kaiser’s movements, the ease with which he landed his jumps, the speed picking up as he covered the entire ice rink with each stroke of his blade, and the gentle way in which he moved his body.
Michael Kaiser on the ice was a work of art. Each jump, each blade stroke, and each body movement told a story that Isagi found himself pulled into.
Isagi barely noticed that Kaiser’s time on the ice was almost up.
Kaiser did his last pose, where he sent a flying kiss to the audience. Isagi swore Kaiser looked at him directly before he sent a wink.
Face burning, Isagi looked away, focusing on the screen where Kaiser’s scores would show up.
“I don’t think he’s going to score higher than you, Isagi,” Bachira said. Isagi raised an eyebrow. “I mean, yeah, he’s the prodigy and all, but both of you have similar components. When it comes down to the program component score, I’m confident you’ll win.”
“The scores, please.” The audience quieted down, eager to hear the results. “69.45 for Michael Kaiser.”
There was no disappointment on Kaiser’s face. The German simply smiled at the audience and the camera, but there was a glint in his eyes that made Isagi swallow.
“See?”
“Well, we still have to do the free skate, Bachira,” Isagi protested.
“And you’ll win that one too. Show the world that you’re Japan’s Ace, Isagi!”
It was hard not to be influenced by Bachira’s energy. He smiled and nodded, even though he wanted to refute Bachira’s words.
The small medal ceremony was a private affair, with only selected journalists invited. Isagi answered all the questions as best he could, but he could not stop getting distracted by Kaiser. Even in second place, Kaiser still shone.
“Congratulations on silver, Kaiser, ” Isagi had said after the ceremony. “Enjoyed my performance?”
Isagi didn’t know where the confidence came from. He wasn’t the type to taunt people, especially not seniors, but after what Kaiser had said before the short program, he wanted to see at least annoyance on the older’s face.
Kaiser’s smile remained, but it took on an edge. “It was beautiful, Yoichi. Almost brought tears to my eyes.” Kaiser moved close again, too close. “But don’t you worry, I’ll show you a free skate worthy of the main actor.”
The cameras flashed as Kaiser pressed another kiss on his cheek. Isagi swatted him away, and the German left without another word.
“I’m starting to think he likes you, Isagi,” Bachira mentioned once they were in the private changing room. Isagi choked on his water, coughing hard enough that Bachira stopped packing to pat his back. He glared at the younger, who shrugged. “I mean, he’s kissed you twice.”
“On the cheeks!”
Bachira looked at him, unimpressed. “Tell me who kisses people when they first meet and then the next time they see each other.”
“He’s European.” The excuse sounded weak even to Isagi’s ears. Isagi was sure Bachira would have throttled him if someone-–Anri—hadn’t opened the door. “I gotta go. See you tomorrow, Bachira.”
Isagi walked with Anri, and he’d trained with her long enough to know that Anri was anxious. Whether it was because of what Kaiser pulled or the free skate tomorrow, he wasn’t too sure.
Not until they got to the hotel, and Anri stopped him before he could go into his room.
“What did Kaiser say to you?”
“Nothing important, Anri-san,” Isagi answered. And it truly was. He knew how good Kaiser was and he had come prepared to fight him. Kaiser’s jumps might have higher base values than his but Isagi was better with his performance. They were on even ground, as it was.
“It doesn’t look like nothing, Isagi.” Anri chewed on her lips, more nervous than Isagi had ever seen her. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, but don’t let whatever he said to get in your head, okay?”
“Not planning to, Anri-san.” Isagi had come a long way and he wasn’t going to throw it away because of some words from the reigning Junior Grand Prix Champion.
That night, Isagi could barely sleep, filled with nerves and anticipation. He went to practice In the morning, ignoring Kaiser and sticking close to Bachira. Every time he looked around to check if Kaiser was close though, he would find the German already looking at him.
Bachira’s words rang in his mind and Isagi shook his head to clear his thoughts. Kaiser was probably just trying to mess with him to ensure he wins.
Isagi managed to avoid Kaiser until it was time for them to compete.
As the top scorer during the short program, Isagi got to skate last. Once the warm-up was done, all of the skaters moved backstage, either watching the other skaters or going through their choreography again. Isagi simply sat down and ran through his entire choreography in his mind, visualizing each and every element.
He was going to win gold in his first Junior Grand Prix Final and no one, not even Michael-fucking-Kaiser, was going to steal that from him.
The first three skaters did better than yesterday, but the scores were not enough for them to end up on the podium, not unless the top three popped all of their jumps.
Bachira skated well, even though his newly added triple Axel had negative GOEs. But he was going to the podium, with a free skate score of 139.64, and a total of 205.49.
As Kaiser got on the ice, the crowd’s cheers became louder. The German waved at the crowd before focusing on finding his balance.
Just like the day before, Isagi found it hard to look away from Kaiser. He seemed to be even more in command of the ice, trapping the audience in his program.
And then he went ahead and jumped a quadruple toe loop, landing it so effortlessly.
“What the fuck?” The words spilled out of his mouth before he even registered the thought. Looking around, he could see that everyone else thought the same.
He was fourteen, and he had gone ahead and landed a quad jump like it was nothing. Kaiser even had the audacity to wink at the camera when it closed up on him during his choreography sequence.
“Isagi, it’s your turn on the ice,” Bachira reminded, gently nudging him. Isagi hadn’t even realized that Kaiser had finished his routine. He moved rigidly, running Kaiser’s entire program through his head again. Each element was executed flawlessly, pulling him into his story before he had time to truly process his thoughts.
Kaiser was who Isagi had been striving to be.
“...143.7 for Michael Kaiser! This is his season’s best!”
The fucking prodigy indeed, Isagi thought bitterly. The voices faded into the background as Isagi made his way around the rink, looking at the places where Kaiser had landed his jumps, visualizing the jumps again.
Perfect. He was perfect.
“Representing Japan, Yoichi Isagi.” The announcement broke his trance. Isagi skated to the middle, breathing in deeply, and smiled at the camera.
For the first time since he had started competing, Isagi Yoichi popped his triple toe, his easiest element.
Focus. Are you throwing away everything because of one fucking quad?
The crowd clapped, but it was subdued. Isagi moved on ahead with the second element, landing the triple Salchow with ease. The crowd’s cheers grew louder as he pulled his leg into a camel spin and then a Biellman.
He could win this with his performance, quadruple jumps be damned.
And then, on his last jump—the triple Axel—Isagi not only popped it but also fell. His side throbbed painfully but the music still played. Isagi pushed himself to his feet, finishing up the free skate with a flying camel spin.
The music stopped and the edges of his vision seemed to darken as Isagi held his arms out to the crowd in his ending pose. Those mistakes were going to cost him the gold. Perhaps even the silver.
Isagi got on his knees, resting his head on the ice.
For the first time ever, Isagi hated the cold and the ice.
The ice who had been with him since he was a child, who’d been there to witness his first fall and his first landed jump; who had been there to catch him after his first spin, when he was so dizzy he couldn’t even tell right from left. The ice, who had bore witness to his talent and potential.
The ice that he had always thought of as a friend; one that he loved more than anything else.
And that ice had now betrayed him.
“Why?” Isagi whispered. But there was no one to answer him, for the ice was cold and uncaring. It embraced who it wanted and threw away those that it did not.
Isagi pushed himself up, forcing a smile as he looked at the crowd. He ignored the ache on his side, thanking the audience as he skated to the entrance.
Anri was waiting for him, only a small smile on her face, hugging him tightly. She wordlessly handed over the jacket and guards and wordlessly sat down on the Kiss & Cry.
132.99 flashed on the screen. If his short program hadn’t been skated cleanly, he would’ve gotten bronze. Even now, he won by the skin of his teeth.
The ice was cleared up for the junior ice dance, but Isagi and Anri stayed seated.
“I’m sorry, Anri-san,” Isagi mumbled.
“You did all you could, Isagi,” Anri replied sympathetically. “Even I did not expect Kaiser to pull a quad, not after he had an ankle injury. We’ll just keep practicing and come back stronger, alright?”
Isagi nodded. He ignored the tears that threatened to fall and hugged Anri again. Both of them walked backstage, where Bachira instantly wrapped his arms around him.
“You still did well, Isagi,” Bachira whispered. “I would’ve done a lot worse if I had skated after Kaiser’s quad.”
The younger pulled him into one of the more private changing rooms and helped him with the laces of his skates.
“So that’s the power of a quadruple jump,” Isagi muttered. He pulled off the skates himself, careful with the new bruises.
“Yeah… Crazy, right?” Bachira sat down next to him, sitting close enough for Isagi to feel his body heat. He felt like he could hear his thundering heartbeat too. “After an ankle injury too.”
“Was he that good at Czech?” Isagi asked.
“No. Well, he was good, that much I know, that’s why I had practiced even more after my second silver, but not like this. It’s like he’s a different person, even though it had only been a month.”
Of course, a lot of things could happen in a month. Isagi had mastered the triple Axel and added the triple Lutz in a month. He wondered if he could have mastered a quadruple that fast.
Silence enveloped them and neither moved even as the announcement about the junior ice dance broadcasted outside.
“Do you wanna watch the ice dance?” Bachira questioned.
“No. But you should go if you want to.” Isagi didn’t want to see the ice yet. He wondered if he’d even willingly set foot on the ice after its betrayal.
“I’ll stay with you.” Bachira patted his thigh and silence filled the space again.
Neither walked out until it was time for the medal ceremony. Isagi had calmed down enough to not feel like he was about to cry at any moment.
The lights dimmed and the ceremony music started. Bachira’s name was called out first and the younger skated out proudly, waving to the audience. He got on the lowest podium, still smiling and waving.
“The silver medalist, from Japan, Yoichi Isagi!” Isagi threw his arms up and smiled as best he could. The crowd still cheered loudly—though not as loud as Japan. Never as loud as Japan.
God, he wanted to go home.
Carefully making his way across the carpet, Isagi hugged Bachira, before making his way over to the podium.
“And now, the gold medalist! Representing Germany, Michael Kaiser!”
As soon as Isagi saw that smirk, he wanted to tackle Kaiser to the ground. Kaiser took his time to get to the podium, circling the rink. He hugged Bachira first, moving to Isagi with that smirk. Isagi hugged him back stiffly.
The medal ceremony went by quickly—Isagi barely remembered bending down to get the medal and shaking the president of the ISU’s hands. He did, however, remember moving up the podium, looking up at Kaiser’s tall body.
"Yoichi," Kaiser whispered in what was undoubtedly Japanese. Isagi stiffened as he moved closer while they posed for the cameras, holding their medals in one hand—gold for Kaiser and silver for Isagi. The gold should be slung over his neck, not Kaiser.
If only I didn’t pop the first jump, if only I had made up for the popped toe with a jump with better base values, if only I hadn’t fallen on the Axel, if only—
Isagi fisted the hand that he splayed behind Kaiser’s back. If only I had practiced harder.
"That was a beautiful performance. But not worthy of your Ace title.” Suddenly, Isagi was all too aware of how close Kaiser was. He could even hear the older’s heartbeat—calm and steady—unlike his own rapidly beating one. “You gotta be a proper obstacle in my life, Yoichi." It took everything in Isagi not to punch Kaiser. Do that, and he might be banned from skating again and he could not risk stopping here.
Instead, he grinned, scooting closer to Kaiser. What was he thinking, retiring over such a trivial mistake? He was young and he still had years ahead of him.
And above all, he now had someone to chase after.
To the world, they might seem like they were simply whispering—especially after pictures of the small medal ceremony had been published. Perhaps the world might think that they were praising each other. "Don't worry, Kaiser. I’ll be so good you’ll kill yourself trying to chase me.”
Kaiser pulled back and the lights shone in Isagi’s eyes. But the Japanese did not look away and watched as a beautiful smile—nothing like his ugly smirk—blossomed on Kaiser’s face.
“I am looking forward to seeing how you’ll perform this, Yoichi.”