Title: Reborn! On Ice
Song: Mariage D'amoure by Paul de Senneville
Pairings: R27
Warnings: Possible OOCness, YuriOnIce!AU, figureskating!AU, snarky!Tsuna, twin!fic, Nana, Iemitsu, and twin bashing (ahaha)
Additional Notes: I'm not all that familiar with the technical aspects of the sport, but I'll do my best! It's probably inaccurate and used incorrectly, but I tried, fam. Also, the music selection might not be the most ideal for figure skating, I think. It's more for my own pleasure, lol. Some parts of the story will correlate to the original anime but I changed up some things to give it that…KHR feel. And I might've put in a little too much angst but it's okay because Reborn will come in to save the day! Ahaha…
Prompt: Tsuna was never going to skate again, but help came from the most unexpected source.
It was official.
Ieyasu was a dick. A goddamn dick that needed to burn in hell and never see daylight again—and that was putting it nicely.
Tsuna had been trying to calm his nerves in the waiting room and stretching as a quick warm-up when his phone buzzed in his bag. His coach, Kawahira, had told him beforehand to keep his phone off so he wouldn't get distracted, but it must've slipped his mind. The brunet walked over to silence the incessant buzzing when he realized that it was a series of texts from his younger twin, which was strange since the other never texted him once since he left Japan to train.
He shouldn't have read them. He should've just looked the other way.
When he walked out to where his coach was waiting for him, Tsuna could barely breathe. The cheers from the crowd were distant in his ringing ears and his legs were shaking so hard he could've crawled all the way out. But he had some dignity and pride left and damn it, he was going to pull through whether he liked it or not. It really didn't have to do with the fact that Reborn—the most decorated and successful male figure skater in the world—was most likely watching—nope, not at all.
Kawahira took one look at his face and frowned. The man steered him to the side where there were less people, which Tsuna was grateful for.
"Tsunayoshi, what's wrong?"
It took one simple question to crack the fragile dam. Tsuna's breath hitched and he clenched his hands into fists by his sides. He stared wide-eyed at the concerned man, his voice failing him in epic proportions. No matter what he wanted to say, his mind drew blanks and his throat constricted, preventing him from speaking properly. Kawahira grasped his shoulders firmly, his eyes serious.
"Whatever it is that's bothering you, you need to breathe," his coach said in a hushed tone. "All you have to do is let yourself go for four minutes on the ice. You came this far, Tsunayoshi. Don't let all your hard training go to waste."
"Renchan," Tsuna said, his voice cracking at the end. "He—He…"
Kawahira heard him even if he was speaking in a broken whisper, but before he could say anything, the announcer was already saying Tsuna's name through the speakers.
"…representing Japan, Tsunayoshi Sawada!"
A wave of cheers rebounded in the large stadium, making Tsuna flinch. A deluge of thoughts suddenly overwhelmed him then. His body suddenly felt cold. Oh, God, he couldn't do this. He was going to fuck up and screw everything up. It was a miracle he even made it to the Grand Prix final in the first place after the competitor above him had broken his ankle during his performance and Tsuna just wasn't ready for this.
"Tsunayoshi, there is no shame in pulling out now."
Pulling out? When the weight of his own country was riding on his shoulders? After he trained five goddamn years for this? He couldn't afford to drop out now. He had wanted to show his family and peers that there was something more to him than Dame-Tsuna, that he could do something right for a change, even if it was something "girly" as figure skating as Ieyasu put it. Still, when he saw his name at last place on the ranking screen, his heart nearly stopped.
"I—I can do it," he managed to stutter out.
Kawahira hesitated and Tsuna wanted to scream. Even his coach thought he was good-for-nothing. It was almost commendable that the other man managed to stay with him for this long. The brunet turned away briskly, ignoring his coach's alarmed words. Whatever he was saying, it was no use now.
Tsuna took a deep, shaky breath and skated out to the rink.
The last notes of his piece dissolved heavily into a suffocating silence.
Tsuna didn't even look around to gauge everyone's reactions—he just had to leave. After excusing himself to the restroom, he changed out of his stifling blue outfit and threw on his casual clothing, not even bothering to acknowledge the other skaters in the dressing room. He grabbed his duffel bag, zipped his jacket, which was white and red to symbolize the Japanese flag and had the country's name written in the front, and almost dashed to the restroom.
He was grateful that no reporters were out yet, and that the hallways were only filled with some audience members he didn't bother to look closely at. No one stopped him. The bathroom was empty, thank God, because he was pretty sure he was going to—
He stumbled into a random stall and heaved whatever he ate for lunch that day in the toilet. Coughing, Tsuna wrinkled his nose at the sour odor before throwing up again. His hand shook when he flushed the toilet while his body seemingly collapsed against the stall. His duffel bag laid heavily on his lap and he could feel the slight pressure from the blades of his skates digging into his thighs.
His inexplicable fury seemed to overcome his shame and embarrassment at that moment when he pulled out his phone and jabbed in an all-too familiar number. The line rang three times before the other person picked up.
Tsuna couldn't even speak. He tried to find the right words to say—he prepared a fucking speech for this, goddamn it—but his tongue felt heavy and his mind blanked out at the worst times possible.
"Oh, Nii-san." Tsuna forgot how much he hated that drawling tone of his brother. "Are you okay? You didn't look too good up there."
Tsuna inhaled deeply through his nose and his hand tightened around his phone. "What the fuck, Ieyasu? Why did you—What—"
"Don't worry, Nii-san," Ieyasu said in mock-sympathy. "We understand. It's been really difficult, right? Those five years really paid off, didn't they?"
"Shut up, you piece of shit," Tsuna hissed. "Where's Renchan?"
Ieyasu sighed dramatically. "It was unfortunate, really. But I'll let you know where we buried him. He's actually right behind in our backyard. You can't miss it. There's even a small shrine for him."
Tsuna paled. "Buried…? You already buried him…?"
"I mean, it's been a while, Nii-san. Three years in fact. Poor Renchan. You couldn't even attend his funeral. He must've been so sad you weren't there."
Tsuna covered his mouth before he really did scream. His eyes burned as tears fell down his cheeks. Three years… Oh, God, Renchan died three years ago and he didn't know. Flashes of his dog suddenly burst in his mind in quick, painful succession—waking up with Tsuna to join his morning run; snuggling up against him to make sure Tsuna didn't get too cold at night; following him to practice and waiting until he was done without any fuss; greeting him at the door whenever he came back from school; licking and growling at his wounds from training.
Never mind the fact that Renchan was short for Renato, which was Reborn's real name. The dog—He was everything to Tsuna. He was always there for him when he needed comfort, when no one else would reach out to him. Renchan was just—
How dare they? Tsuna thought furiously. How dare his brother pull something like this?
He couldn't tell what he should be angrier at—the fact that he let Ieyasu's texts get to him or the fact that his brother did something so fucked up.
"I'm going to kill you," he choked out. "How could you do that to me?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. But please calm down, Nii-san, you're scaring me. I know you're very emotional right now, but I didn't do anything wrong."
"Stop pulling that bullshit, Ieyasu. If you had anything to do with—if you had so much as touched Renchan, I'm going to fucking kill you."
There was some shuffling in the background before another voice spoke from the other line, making Tsuna tense.
"Tsu-kun?" It was his mother. Shit, he should've known that Ieyasu wasn't alone. "What's going on? Yasu-kun looks very scared. Are you scolding him again?"
"I—Why didn't anyone tell me about Renchan?" Tsuna said, his voice cracking.
"Oh, sweetie." His mother sounded sympathetic, but it didn't ring true in his ears. She was always a ditzy woman and meant well, but it was baffling how she was even able to raise any children at all. "You were so busy with your training that I didn't think it was good to distract you. I was hoping to tell you when you came back home."
"Three years, Okaa-san. It's been three years. It doesn't matter—Renchan was my dog. I have the right to know."
"Everything will be alright, dear. At least, you have Natsu, right? He misses you a lot and my, he grew bigger since you left."
Tsuna couldn't believe what he was hearing. Apparently, his mouth thought the same. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Tsu-kun! Language!"
The brunet didn't care. For years, his family had always told him that he wouldn't amount to anything and now that he made a name for himself, they were all smiles and laughter that were never genuine. It disgusted him and that wasn't what he wanted when he first got into figure skating. He wanted them to see he could do something, but they didn't see. They didn't understand.
"I understand that you must be upset about your performance today, but you'll do better next time, okay? So, please don't take it out on Yasu-kun. He didn't do anything wrong."
"He—He—"
Tsuna just sighed and rubbed his face with a shaking hand. He was too exhausted to explain himself again. It never worked anyways. Suddenly, he felt small, very small. He wished Renchan was with him…
"When will you be coming home, Tsu-kun? The season is over, right?" His mother's chipper tone suddenly made him nauseous all over again. "Oh, I'll prepare a feast and invite everyone!"
"I don't know," Tsuna said dully. "I need to go now."
"Oh, but your fath—"
The brunet abruptly hung up, not even caring how rude it was. He'd been in the bathroom for nearly half an hour now. A bitter chuckle escaped his chapped lips as he rubbed his eyes. His parents were going to give him hell soon for what he did. Guess what? He didn't give a flying fuck.
Hauling himself up from the ground, Tsuna grabbed his duffel bag and shakily unlocked the stall door. His legs almost gave out if he didn't manage to support himself by holding onto the sink. He washed his mouth out as much as he could and splashed cold water on his face, letting out a shaky sigh when he looked in the mirror. He looked like shit.
He managed to find some gum in his bag—thank God—and chewed on it furiously when he left the bathroom. There were much more people in the hallways now. He could see some of the skaters being interviewed at the corner of his eye and automatically moved away from the loud commotion. His luck apparently ended when he found that piece of gum.
"Sawada-san!"
Tsuna pretended he didn't hear his name being shouted across the room. Cold sweat broke out on his skin. The air suddenly felt tight, too tight. He barely managed to take another few steps when the other person quickly intercepted his path.
"Sawada-san, I was afraid you already left!"
Tsuna forced on a small smile to be polite. "Ah, not yet, Kozato-san."
Kozato Makoto was, thankfully, not a reporter. He was one of the Japanese announcers for many figure skating competitions. While he was a nice man, Tsuna really wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. He glanced around to look for an escape when he met a pair of dark obsidian eyes across the room. For a moment, he couldn't breathe again.
It was Reborn, standing amongst a sea of reporters congratulating him on his fifth Grand Prix victory. He smoothly answered their questions without a hitch, his charming smile making all the ladies swoon. His jacket had Italy printed in the front and looked bit tacky. Still, he managed to look handsome and stunning in all his glory.
"—retire?"
Tsuna blinked, his attention quickly shifting back to the man in front of him. "I'm…sorry, but could you repeat your question?"
"I was just wondering if you're having any thought about retiring," Makoto said.
Tsuna pulled a small face. "What? No, I mean—Yeah, no. I didn't say anything about retiring."
The man nodded enthusiastically. "That's great! For a second, I thought you were actually thinking about it after your performance today. I know that the pressure is intimidating, but I sincerely believe that you have the potential to pull through! Really, Sawada-san, this is only a stumble in your career so don't let it get to your head too much, alright? My kids are actually big fans of you! They absolutely love you! So, do you have any plans going forward now? Are you going to train longer or will you go back to Namimori?"
Tsuna blinked rapidly, trying to keep up with the man's eager little speech, when Kawahira suddenly popped out from the crowd and managed to save him from more embarrassment.
"Ah, Tsunayoshi, there you are," his coach said, gripping his shoulder. "Hello, Kozato-san. I apologize from cutting your conversation short, but would you excuse us? Thank you."
Kawahira didn't even give the other man much time to respond before he steered Tsuna away.
"Thank you," Tsuna said quietly.
"Of course." Kawahira glanced at him. "Are you alright, Tsunayoshi?"
"Never better."
The man didn't comment on his sarcasm. Instead, he just nodded coolly. "We'll talk more at the hotel. Is there anything you prefer to eat for dinner?"
"How was it?"
Kawahira quirked a brow, but indulged him nonetheless. That was one thing Tsuna appreciated about his coach—he didn't hold back on his criticisms, even if they were pretty harsh. Still, Tsuna braced himself for the worst.
"You didn't gather enough speed for your jumps, but that has always been your issue since the beginning. I don't know how you managed to pull off your jumps with the state you were in. The landings were shaky at best and your launches were too stiff. Your step sequences were not in tune with the music towards the end, but you managed to finish the program, which is the more important part. The judges were a little generous this time around."
Tsuna nodded dully. He'd have to re-watch his performance later when he was up for it. Now, he just wanted to lay in bed and never leave his hotel room.
"We'll talk more at the hotel," his coach said, opening the door for him. "Is there anything in particular you'd like to eat? Italy has some fine cuisine you should try out."
"It doesn't matter."
Neither of them spoke after in the cab on the way back.
Tsuna didn't go home until March of next year.
He had taken Kawahira's advice to relax and even do some sight-seeing in Milan before he returned to Namimori. It was probably the most content he'd ever been in his life, even when his chest ached at the thought of Renchan. Just…being away from the ring and ignoring calls from his parents and friends was almost liberating. He would find himself breathing without a hitch and his mind clear of all worries.
However, he knew that he couldn't avoid his problems forever. When he finally mustered up the courage to tell Kawahira that he wouldn't be needing him as a coach anymore and that he wouldn't continue skating, the other man only stared at him and shook his head in disappointment, as if he did something wrong and not Tsuna.
Nonetheless, it unnerved him when Kawahira said, "I apologize that I wasn't enough for you, Tsunayoshi. Although, I didn't think that I was ever the best fit for you as a coach. If you ever change your mind, I look forward to seeing you on the ice again."
It should be the other way around, Tsuna thought, but he was too overwhelmed by the unexpected words that he only nodded and bid his ex-coach goodbye at the airport.
He slept during most of the flight and woke up just in time when the plane landed. He didn't expect anyone to be there when he gathered his luggage. No one knew he was coming back and he never told anyone about his plans. He didn't think he could stomach the utter disappointment from his parents again or his brother's insufferable sneer.
So, it shocked him when he saw Bianchi, his old ballet teacher, waiting for him at the Namimori International Airport, sunglasses and all. He blinked once, twice, to make sure he wasn't seeing things when he was suddenly squished by long arms and a womanly chest.
"Tsuna!" Bianchi said, nuzzling his hair. "Oh, I missed your hair—and you, don't worry—but I missed your hair the most! It's still fluffy and soft just like I remembered!"
Tsuna patted her arm weakly. "Bianchi—breathe—can't breathe!"
"Oh, sorry, sorry." At least she had the decency to look sheepish. "You don't look that terrible, Tsuna. Not what I expected, to be honest. I thought you'd lose a lot of weight by now—Well, you're still a bit thin. Really, you should eat more and practice less. It's not good for you."
Tsuna couldn't help but smile a little. Bianchi might be overbearing sometimes, but she meant well. She was one of the few people in his life who actually looked out for him and made sure he didn't push himself too far. There were countless times when she lent a shoulder for him to cry on when it became too much. She'd sing him sweet lullabies in her native Italian tongue and tell him stories about her little brother, Gokudera, who she lost contact with and was one of the rising junior stars in the figure-skating world. Tsuna didn't get a chance to actually meet him yet, but he knew that the boy had been at the Grand Prix Finals to watch Reborn skate.
"Why are you here, Bianchi?" he said.
The woman sighed and slung an arm around his shoulder. "Why wouldn't I be here, Tsuna? Don't you miss me?"
"No."
"You brat."
Tsuna laughed when Bianchi brought him into a headlock and ruffled his hair. "Okay, okay, yeah, I missed you."
"But of course."
He rolled his eyes playfully when she flicked some of her long pink hair over her shoulder. But honestly, he did find himself missing Bianchi and a few of his friends back in Namimori. Just not his family.
"Come on," Bianchi said, letting him go. "I'll give you a ride."
"Oh, you don't have to," Tsuna said, rolling his suitcase behind him.
"I'm not taking no for an answer, brat, so get in the car."
"I don't think you're doing it right. Where's my candy?"
Bianchi groaned. "Don't make me have second thoughts."
Tsuna grinned cheekily, but followed her to her car anyways. He supposed it was better than getting recognized on the bus or in the streets. He really didn't think he was ready to confront any questions from people or see people in general.
Bianchi turned on the engine and reversed out of the parking spot. "So, tell me, how did it feel to see Reborn up close?"
Tsuna flushed a little. "It was…amazing."
Bianchi sighed dreamily. "I bet. That man is just too perfect for words, I swear."
Tsuna nodded. It really was a whole other experience to see Reborn skate in person. He was considered a living legend, a one-in-a-million skater, having won five consecutive World Championships, five straight Grand Prix Finals, and countless European competitions. It was a wonder why he didn't go for the Olympics. Tsuna had first seen Reborn skate on TV when the man was only 13 in the Junior Grand Prix Finals. He would never forget how the young Italian took the world by storm with his powerful performance to Mariage D'amoure. How someone so young could be so exquisitely expressive baffled just about everyone. He had won first place and even created another world record, which hadn't been broken since. Gokudera was the only competitor to come close very recently.
Still, Reborn had made a large name for himself and became a worldwide sensation. It was only fitting to call him the world's greatest male figure skater to ever live, a title Reborn stated quite proudly on some occasions. He was devilishly charming and knew how to play to the crowds when he was off the rink; however, once he took the icy stage, he became a different person altogether.
Tsuna had studied his long skate program religiously after the Grand Prix Finals. It was so beautifully done that Tsuna was actually moved to tears when he first watched it (not that he hadn't shed some tears to Reborn's past performances, too). The choreography meshed perfectly with the song choice—Pas de Deux from "The Nutcracker" by Tchaikovsky—that it simply took Tsuna's breath away. He had also been a little stunned by the selected piece. It was something you wouldn't expect Reborn to skate to due to his sophisticated and cool appearance, but he made it work and that was all that mattered.
The piece was conventionally skated to by pair skaters, and when the first notes of the harp filled the stadium, Reborn had just moved seamlessly to the hauntingly beautiful melody without a hitch. He looked like he was dancing with himself and someone imaginary at the same time, captivating the audience and stunning the judges. Tsuna had sometimes wondered what the program would look like if Reborn had a partner skating with him, but remembered that no one could ever be considered his equal. It was almost impossible to imagine him with someone else because it would be hard for anyone to be able to match Reborn's pace. He was in a world of his own, only blessing the audience with just glimpses of what was occurring behind the curtains and having them wanting more.
"It was just amazing," Tsuna said. "I didn't think I'd ever be able to see him skate in person. It's like a dream. Sometimes I still think it was."
Bianchi smiled. "Well, it wasn't a dream so you're blessed with the image of that gorgeous man in your head forever! In person!"
Tsuna huffed. "When you say it like that, I sound like a crazy fan."
"I'm not the one with his posters all over my bedroom wall."
Tsuna blushed. "Hey, that was just a phase when I was a kid!"
Bianchi snorted. "You're 23 now, Tsuna. That's way past your 9-year-old self." She smirked. "But I understand. You know, it's normal for boys your age to—"
"Oh, my God, keep your mouth shut, woman!"
"Excuse me? I'm the same age as Reborn!"
"No, you're not. You're probably in your fifties."
"What?"
"Bianchi, keep your eyes on the road!"
She managed to drive back into lane and slowed the car down to the normal speed limit, barely hitting another car. Tsuna sighed before scowling at the snickering woman.
"I swear, if I die, it's on you."
"Oh, don't be such a wuss, Tsuna. You're still alive."
Tsuna rolled his eyes. "You're the one driving, not me."
"I can kick you out on the highway right now."
"You are a wonderful, beautiful human being who deserves only my humble servitude."
Bianchi snorted. "Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don't know."
Tsuna pondered on his next words to say, the question striking a nerve he didn't expect. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Kawahira-san called you, didn't he?"
"Yeah, just before you let Italy. How was it by the way?"
Tsuna smiled. "It was wonderful. I hope I can visit it again someday."
Bianchi snickered. "To stalk Reborn?"
To her surprise, Tsuna didn't retort with a smart comment. Instead, he just looked out the window at the passing scenery, trying to sort out his thoughts.
"I'll probably never meet him again," he said. "I…Did you know Renchan died three years ago?"
Bianchi's tone turned low and solemn. "Yeah, but…how did you find out?"
Tsuna laughed bitterly. "So, you were holding it from me, too?"
Bianchi sighed. "Tsuna, you were out of the country and—Okay, it probably didn't sound like a great idea, but you couldn't get distracted, not when you were working so hard for the Grand Prix. I know how much Renchan meant to you." She narrowed her eyes. "How did you find out anyway?"
The brunet nearly spat his words out. "Ieyasu told me."
Tsuna gasped when Bianchi suddenly swerved to the side and slammed the brakes. He nearly flew out of his seat if his seatbelt hadn't held him back.
"Bia—"
He flinched when she glared at him, her green eyes venomous.
"What?"
Tsuna couldn't get the words out properly until Bianchi started cursing up a storm.
"My God, when I get my hands on that little shit, I'm going to fucking kill him!"
Tsuna let out a weak laugh. "Join the club."
"Explain, Ts—" Bianchi widened her eyes, realization dawning on her features. She looked at him, horrified. "Don't tell me—"
"I shouldn't have looked at my phone," Tsuna said quietly, looking down at his pale hands. "But it wasn't off and he knew. I fucked up, Bianchi."
A beat of silence passed between them as Bianchi tried to find the words to say.
"Tsuna…"
"I don't know. I—I fucked up at the finals and probably made a laughingstock out of myself. I just couldn't—I couldn't think. I was just so angry."
He jumped when Bianchi placed a hand on his shoulder. He glanced at her face, which was marred with sympathy. It made his heart ache. He didn't deserve that.
"Tsuna, it wasn't your fault." She scowled. "What Ieyasu did was fucked up, but it wasn't your fault, Tsuna. Your emotions got the better of you, but that's okay because you're human. Anyone would've reacted the same way."
"I couldn't even get a decent standing."
"Tsuna, no one's going to care if you got a medal or not. Your ranking in some competition isn't going to define you for the rest of your life. So, what if you fucked up? You're still young and you have a promising career ahead of you. You'll blow everyone away when you come out the next time, right? So, don't beat yourself up for it. In fact, I'm going to beat the hell out of that little brat."
"I'm not going back."
Bianchi widened her eyes. "What?"
"I'm not skating again."
"Tsuna, what are you saying?"
"Nothing I do is ever good or good enough. I'm just tired, Bianchi. I don't want to face that again."
"But, Tsuna, you love skating and you are good at it."
Tsuna laughed bitterly and rubbed his face wearily. "I trained for five years for something that was bound to be impossible in the first place. It was a miracle that I even got in the finals. You saw me that day—I was terrible."
"Because you heard something you shouldn't have. That was out of your control."
Tsuna tensed. "Still, I shouldn't have let it get to my head. And this season wasn't even that great for me either. I screwed up so many times in my programs. I wonder why I even bothered with this anyways."
"That's it."
Tsuna jumped when Bianchi stepped on the gas pedal. "W—What are you doing, Bianchi?"
Bianchi's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "Driving."
"I can see that, but where are you going?"
"To get those shitty thoughts out of your head."
"I thought you wanted Iey—"
"Don't even say his name in front of me because I won't hesitate to turn the car around and run him over at a moment's notice."
Silence.
"I wouldn't mi—"
"Tsuna."
Tsuna kept his mouth shut for the rest of the ride.
"Tsuna-kun!"
The young man could barely brace himself when Kyoko jumped on him, pulling him into a big hug.
"Hey, Kyoko-chan."
She pulled away with a bright smile. "I didn't know you were back!"
Tsuna chuckled sheepishly. "Actually, I just came back a while ago."
"What? Why didn't I hear about this?"
"Because he's terribly stupid," Bianchi said, walking up behind him. "Hey, Kyoko-chan."
The girl smiled. "Bianchi! How are you? It's been a while."
Bianchi nodded in greeting. "I'm fine, thanks." She looked around the family-owned ice-skating rink. "You take care of the place pretty well."
Kyoko grinned. "Of course! Skaters deserve the best place to practice and train after all!" She gasped. "Oh, Tsuna, did you come here to skate? It's been so long! And you have to tell me how it was abroad! I missed you so much! And so did Onii-san, Haru-chan, and Hana-chan!"
"Oh, I—"
Bianchi quickly interrupted him. "Yup, he's here to skate. Sorry we came when you were closing up."
Kyoko shook her head. "Not a problem at all! You caught me just in time. Come, Tsuna!"
The brunet had no choice but to be dragged and shoved into the changing room.
"I don't see the point in this, Bianchi."
"Are you warmed up yet?"
Tsuna sighed as he shook his arms and legs, hopping a little. "Yeah."
"Good. Now get in there and skate!"
Tsuna rolled his eyes. "That's easier said than done. It's been a while since I've been in the ri—" He squeaked when Bianchi threw a slipper at his face. "What the hell, Bianchi?"
"Don't make me repeat myself, brat!"
"Okay, okay, geez."
Kyoko clapped her hands when he skated out onto the rink. "You can do this, Tsuna-kun! Oh, this is so exciting! I missed watching you skate in person. It's completely different from watching you on the screen."
Tsuna circled around the rink to get a good feel of it and get his legs accustomed to his movements. He smiled slightly. "Don't get your hopes up, Kyoko-chan. I'm pretty rusty."
Kyoko smiled. "It doesn't matter because you're always so much happier when you're on the ice, Tsuna-kun! I don't mind as long as you're smiling!"
That made Tsuna pause. He stared at Kyoko's bright face for a moment before looking away with a small sigh.
"I guess…"
"Oi, get your shit together, Tsuna! No dillydallying!"
"Geez, how old are you?"
Tsuna and even Kyoko laughed when Bianchi entered another one of her furious tirades. Really, she was just easy to rile up sometimes. Tsuna finally skated to the center of the rink, his legs buzzing in anticipation. His fingers tingled when he relaxed into a pose he had seen a million times. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, forcing his body to relax. A small buzz prickled in his ears in the silence, but he closed his eyes to withdraw deep within himself, blocking out any distractions and all of his insecurities.
It was only him and the rink now.
The familiar scales of the harp soon filled the arena—and Tsuna took off. The strings soon joined with a soft harmony as his skates glided seamlessly on the ice, the light scrapes almost soundless and yet so soothing in his sensitive ears. His arms moved in tandem to the beat of the beautiful piece, his legs entering a fluid and graceful step sequence that he studied and marveled over for days.
The cool breeze caressed his flushed cheeks while he moved elegantly across the ice, soothing his nerves considerably. The world sped up around him, his feet crossing over each other as he skated backwards to prepare for the first jumping combination. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and he forgot how alive he felt on the ice, how much he missed this feeling. He turned and almost smiled in childish delight when he heard the satisfying sound of the blade being pushed into the ice. A shiver ran up his spine as he slightly bent forward and jumped. He didn't even think when he rotated rapidly in mid-air, completing the quadruple flip, and leapt again to enter a triple toe. A small breath escaped his lips when he landed perfectly both times, but that didn't stop him from moving, from immersing himself in a world where he truly felt safe—happy.
His hands reached out to him, chasing and begging for something so beautiful to return to him, before he pulled them back against his chest and tossed his head in the air, spinning smoothly in a semi-circle. His legs never wavered as he entered another gorgeous sequence of steps. Reborn was truly a genius choreographer.
Tsuna continued to pursue that imaginary thing across the ice. He had no clue to what "it" was for Reborn, but the concept fit so perfectly with the routine and the music that he just lost himself completely in the moment—desperately chasing something so hopeful and yet so utterly lost, which brushed painfully, but gently, against his fingertips. His breath hitched when he jumped in the air with a forward takeoff, kicking the same takeoff leg backwards, and landed in an upright spin on his right foot. Kyoko gasped behind him, the soft sound disappearing in the steady crescendo of brass instruments.
He spun for what seemed like hours before spiraling down and rising again to glide smoothly across the ice again. His eyes burned when he thought of Renchan. He could see the Doberman sitting on one of the bleachers, his eyes never leaving Tsuna even once while he skated around the rink. Tsuna peered over his shoulder when he crossed his feet over again, as if to reassure himself that Renchan was still there, alive and breathing. He wasn't. He was never there to begin with and never will be.
Tsuna's breath hitched. He could hear his heart pound painfully against his chest over the explosion of brass and strings, but his arms still moved, entering their own little dance, while his feet slid into another difficult sequence of steps. In, out, spin, turn, reach, stretch, catch it. He jumped again. Triple Lutz—Renchan—double toe loop—Don't leave me—triple Salchow—I'm so sorry. His arms reached out again, and one hand lowered gracefully over his head as he bowed halfway, his left leg carrying his weight halfway across the ice.
His ears nearly burst when the cymbals crashed in the piece, but he had to keep going—he needed to keep moving. He couldn't stop—wouldn't. The tempo picked up its pace and so did he. Reborn had moved through the second half with such passion and fervor, it almost looked desperate, like he had succumbed to the primitive nature of the chase and forgot why he had started in the first place. His face, stoic and composed outside of the rink, had contorted into something akin to quiet agony. It had been so subtle, so miniscule, that Tsuna had to rewind the program multiple times to catch that expression again.
The harp and violins returned again, slowing his pace just marginally. The chase was still going and he couldn't stop. He lifted his back leg straight behind him as he glided around the edges of the rink. For a few seconds, he could finally breathe again. Bracing himself, he turned and prepped for the final jump. His legs slightly shook while he gained speed, but the cool breeze tousled his hair as if to say, "it's okay". So, he jumped. The air whistled around him while he rotated rapidly—triple axel—his hands closed in against his chest. He stuck the landing.
Soon, he picked up his speed again. It was so close, he could feel it. The violins' sweet and sad serenade caressed his skin, the timpani's steady beat keeping him in line. But why was he still so afraid? His hand reached out again as he turned, the blades of his skates smoothly carrying him over. The woodwinds' quick staccato drew him into a short sequence again before he pushed forcefully into a spin circle. He slowly brought his left leg down and drew his arms closer to his body, accelerating his spin exponentially. The timpani rolled into a steady, pulsing rhythm; the violins soon guided the last beats followed by the horns and woodwinds. At the last second, Tsuna exited gracefully, bringing his hand over his mouth, and directed his gaze downwards.
The music ended with an abrupt, synchronized beat.
A sudden hush fell over the arena. Tsuna didn't dare to breathe, as if the magic of the moment would disappear too quickly once it realized it didn't have him in its grasp anymore. He closed his eyes to bask in the last few seconds of his high. He could feel sweat dripping down his face and his shirt sticking onto his skin, but he didn't care.
Let me be selfish for just this moment, he thought. Let me be free for just a few more minutes.
Finally, his body relaxed out of the pose. Tsuna opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to adjust to the suddenly unfamiliar sight. The lights in the rink were somewhat low and cast an almost ethereal glow on his skin. He found enough energy to skate towards the exit, his muscles aching from the intense routine. Bianchi and Kyoko were gaping at him, the latter with tears in her eyes.
"Kyoko-chan?" he said, his voice breathless. "What's wrong?"
He stumbled when she suddenly ran over and hugged him. Her voice cracked when she spoke through quiet sobs.
"Tsuna-kun, that was just…beautiful."
It was probably just to make him feel better, but Tsuna couldn't help but smile anyways.
It was a good thing that his parents owned an onsen or else they would've freaked out on him even more when Bianchi accompanied him all the way home. She grabbed one of Tsuna's suitcases and promptly found herself a room, not caring how rude she seemed. She didn't even greet his parents properly—just gave them a dismissive wave and tossed a bundle of cash on their front counter.
Tsuna took great satisfaction in seeing Ieyasu flinch when Bianchi marched through the door. If anyone terrified Ieyasu, it was Bianchi (it had nothing to do with the fact that she sometimes deliberately poisoned his food with laxatives when he was little). Still, Tsuna greeted his parents with a small bow and politely refused their offer for dinner. He was relieved to hear that Renchan had died from old age and not from disease, but it still pained him to think that he wasn't there for his dog in his last moments and all the more furious at his brother.
He ignored the way his father glared at his back when he walked to his room. It would definitely bite him in the ass later, but he'd try to excuse it as exhaustion, which wasn't that far off from the truth.
Sighing, Tsuna sank in deeper in one of the private hot springs, relishing the warm water soothing his aching muscles. The door slid open then and he could hear the soft pitter-patter of feet slowly approach from behind him.
Ieyasu's voice echoed in the steamy room. "Tou-san is really pissed."
Tsuna closed his eyes and pretended not to hear. "Leave me alone."
"Didn't you see Renchan? He's in the back like I told you. I thought you'd want to see him first when you came back."
"Are you deaf?"
The little shit continued to talk. "Kaa-san is also sad that you won't talk to her."
Tsuna restrained the urge to sigh. "Leave."
"She was also upset when she saw your performance." Ieyasu laughed, which grated Tsuna's ears. "Wow, it was just—I don't anything about the stupid sport, but even I knew you fucked up the whole thing big time. It was pretty hilarious honestly."
"Shut the hell up and get out."
"What do you think Reborn thought about it, huh? Probably thought why a useless person like you would even touch the sport in the first place. Really, Tsuna, there's no point in trying because you're just going to fuck things up anyway."
Before Tsuna could grab his brother and pull him into his watery death, the door abruptly slid open and a towel-clad Bianchi stood at the doorway, her eyes murderous. Tsuna and Ieyasu both flinched for different reasons. One wondered why Bianchi was around this area in the first place while the other knew that he shouldn't have forgotten about the deadly scorpion in his home.
Bianchi smiled sweetly at Ieyasu who paled even more. "Care to repeat that, sweetie?"
The young man just let out a pathetic squeak and scrambled out the door, tripping twice before he managed to run past the terrifying woman. Bianchi glared at his turned back and clicked her tongue. Tsuna widened his eyes when she sauntered into the room, closing the door behind her.
"B—Bianchi, what are you doing here?"
"To relax, obviously. Geez, are you that stupid?"
The young woman stepped into the onsen, thankfully with her towel still on, and let out a content sigh when she basked in the water. Tsuna gaped as she slung her arms around the outer edge of the pool, looking relaxed and composed as ever.
"Close your mouth, Tsuna. You're going to swallow a fly."
The brunet snapped his mouth shut. He looked anywhere but Bianchi, his cheeks blushing even more.
"Y—You're not supposed to be here, Bianchi."
"I'm a paying customer and I can do whatever I want. Besides, a little nudity doesn't hurt." Bianchi glanced at the door. "Seriously though, how long is he going to keep his hair orange? It's been, what, a year, I think?"
Tsuna just shrugged. "I don't give a crap." He scowled. "If he'd just leave me alone and stop messing with me, I'd be even happier."
Bianchi sighed. "You're right. You know what you need, Tsuna? A knight in shining armor to whisk you far away from this place. I'll gladly be your maid of honor."
Tsuna nearly choked and sputtered when he accidentally drank in some water. Shit. He coughed out of reflex and felt Bianchi pat his back to help him ride it out.
"W—What?"
"I said, a k—"
"I heard what you said, but seriously, what the hell, Bianchi?"
The woman shrugged. "That's the way I see it."
Tsuna scowled. "Don't try to turn my life into one of those crappy romance books you read."
"Hey, love is pure and beautiful, okay? You'll learn to love it someday, too."
She snickered at what she said, but Tsuna didn't. He just stared at her like she grew three heads.
"Well, if love is so pure and beautiful, why aren't you married?"
"That's because I haven't met the right person yet."
"Uh-huh, and probably never will."
Tsuna squeaked and barely dodged Bianchi's grabby hand in time. The water sloshed around them as Bianchi stood up, her brow twitching.
"Care to repeat that, sweetheart?"
"The day you get married is the day pigs fly."
"Why you little—Get back here!"
If anyone noticed the loud laughter, squeals, and splashing water from the private sections, no one said anything.
Look at this, Reborn. It's exactly like your's! I cried, too. It was beautiful! And he's so adorable!
It wasn't every day the man received a text from Luce, when she was so busy taking care of her daughter and husband. Still, Reborn clicked on the link she sent him anyways. He didn't even blink when he saw the young man in the video: Tsunayoshi Sawada, the figure skater from Japan who performed disastrously in his long program (and poorly throughout the season). It was both easy and hard to forget the routine. Easy because of how utterly mediocre it was, hard because of how terrible it was.
When the familiar tune of Pas de Deux filtered in the air, Reborn couldn't help but watch the skater glide across the ice, his elegant arms moving exactly like how Reborn did in the Grand Prix Finals. In fact, the brunet skated his program perfectly, even down to the expressions, which Reborn thought no one ever really noticed. However, that wasn't what caught his attention—it was the way Tsunayoshi moved with such grace and passion that he had lacked throughout the season.
Where was this skater at the Grand Prix Finals?
His Doberman, Leon, leapt gracefully onto his couch just as Tsunayoshi pulled off his triple-jump combination. The take-off was a little shaky, but he got the right rotations and stuck all of his landings. Soon, Reborn found himself slowly sucked in the desperate chase Tsunayoshi pursued on the ice, perfectly imitating Reborn's interpretation but somehow making it his own at the same time. Though the routine was recorded with a phone at a distance, Reborn could still make out the young man's face contorted into genuine agony and grief.
Ah, that seemed more personal.
Reborn didn't realize he was still staring at the skater until the video ended. For a few minutes, his mind reeled as it tried to process what he just watched. He stood up from his black leather couch to grab his cup of espresso and slowly sip the rich liquid, sighing quietly in content when it reached his tongue. He stared out into the streets of Rome, which bustled with pedestrians and tourists, lively as ever.
He soon dialed a number on his phone and patiently waited for the line to pick up. When it did, his voice was curt and brief.
"A ticket to Namimori, Japan tomorrow morning. Send the ticket tonight."
His lips twitched into a slight smirk when he hung up. This was definitely an interesting development. He'd have to thank Luce later when the time called for it.
A/N Ahahaha, look at that. I mostly wrote this for fun but then I got too excited and this happened! A Yuri on Ice AU no one asked for, haha. Honestly, I kind of got lazy at the end so I decided to maybe divide this into a two or three-shot. Let me know if you peeps would like that!
Ahh, I had to listen to Pas de Deux on a repeat to capture the feel of the music and time it with Tsuna's little routine there, but I'm pretty sure I messed up anyways. It really is a beautiful piece though and I'd definitely recommend it! Please do let me know what you thought about that—too confusing? Too sappy? Too much?
And I kind of gave Reborn the same credentials and awards as Viktor because…yeah, just because, haha. It sounds credible enough, right? Also, this story's title kind of makes sense. Well, there's the fact that Reborn is technically on ice, but there's also the aspect where Tsuna will be "reborn" on ice later on. :^D
Thank you so much for reading! Leave a thought or two if you can and any prompts if you'd like!
I hope to see you again in the next chapter.
Have a lovely day~
Little Miss Bunny
