summary Who needs guillotines when you have skates?
"What're your feelings about the upcoming Grand Prix series, Haruno-senshu?" the reporter asked. He stuck the mic a little too close to Sakura's mouth. Still, she smiled.
"I'm excited! It's always exciting to see how much everyone has improved. And it's a chance for me to test myself every year," she replied. And from behind, she heard someone whoop "Haru-noooooo" as he walked past. Sakura looked over her shoulder in time to see Utakata with his hands cupped around his mouth. Giggling, she waved back.
"And a chance to see some friends, too," she added.
The reporter suddenly thanked her for her time. And as he scrambled to gather his things, Sakura skated backward to meet up with Karin. She had her elbows up on the side of his rink as she scrolled through her iPod. Sakura watched Karin run her thumb over the click wheel, the songs lighting up as she went.
"I wonder what his hurry was?" Sakura sighed in English, stretching her arms above her head. Pulling one earbud out, Karin scoffed. She jerked her chin toward the other side of the rink.
"That," she simply said.
And they watched as the reporter ran to catch up with a tall man with silver hair.
"Ah," was all Sakura replied.
There wasn't a skater who didn't know Kaguya Kimimaro. He had won gold at the last two World Championships and was aiming for a third consecutive win. He had medaled at a few junior events but had been a relative unknown until then. His explosion onto the scene had upset a lot of different expectations.
Sakura fell silent as she watched the reporter ask Kimimaro something. Kimimaro, arms folded across his chest, responded. Expression unchanged. He said a few words before the reporter began peppering him with new questions.
Sakura swung her arms in a circle to loosen her shoulders. Karin pushed off the side of the rink and dropped her iPod into her pocket. She offered an earbud to Sakura, who shook her head.
"Poor guy. Must be like trying to talk to a brick wall," remarked Karin, putting her elbow up on Sakura's shoulder. They watched the reporter smiling, trying to coax some good quotes out of him.
"Still good-looking, though," Sakura mused. She glanced back at Karin in time to catch her making a face.
"Don't judge me! I'm a person too!" Sakura said.
"нет," Karin replied.
Karin knocked her hip into Sakura's as she skated past. But Sakura managed to grab her by the wrist.
"Karin-chaaaaan. Don't be mean to meee," Sakura whined, sticking out her lower lip. Karin made a look of utmost disgust. Her face scrunched up as she tried to avoid Sakura's eyes.
Karin pushed on into the middle of the rink, gritting her teeth, dragging Sakura's weight along. Sakura threw her head back, laughing. And she completely missed the way that Kimimaro and the reporter looked her way.
"Listen. Keep your head on straight. Don't let yourself get nervous before that triple axel," Kisame warned her a few weeks later. He put his hands on her shoulders, shaking her a little.
Sakura nodded. She could hear her own heart drumming in her ears.
And as he stared into her eyes, his lip curled.
"Oi. Chibi," he suddenly barked. Sakura's chin jerked up.
Kisame smirked.
"Knock 'em dead, alright?" he told her.
Her mouth stretched into a smile. She slapped her palm against his twice. Knocked their knuckles together.
"Yokabai," Sakura replied in Hakata-ben. The accent slipping out without her even realizing. And then she went onto the ice. Inhaling slowly. Exhaling through her puckered lips.
She fell during the short program. Which she hadn't done during a competition since her junior days. She got up as fast as she could. Feeling rattled to her very core as she somehow pulled through the step sequence. Her knee aching, face burning. The gasp of dismay from the stands didn't make her feel any better.
Fighting the tears, she threw herself in an extra triple axel. The audience exploded into applause, many of them standing when she stuck the landing. Her ears rang when Kisame met her at the edge of the rink once the program was over. He was already shouting at her. About how irresponsible that was. How she should have stuck to the choreography. Even as he pulled her into a hug.
She kept her head down as she listened for the announcer. Her score barely broke the 60′s. Low. Her lowest yet.
"It's alright. Make it up on your free skate. You can still get on the podium," Kisame told her in her ear. Sakura nodded. Putting on her brightest smile, she waved and blew kisses to the audience. Tears still gleaming in her eyes.
But inside her head, she knew. If it wasn't a medal, it wasn't a real win.
She came back the following night with vengeance gleaming in her eyes. Her jumps were higher. Her spins were faster. Her skates carved deep paths into the ice. She imagined slicing clean through, cleaving the rink into pieces. When she watched the commentary later, someone called her performance "vicious", which she thought was rather fitting.
In the end, she posed for photos, smiling as she held up her bronze medal.
And Karin stopped in the middle of waving. She glanced over at Sakura, her eyes narrowed. Then, she reached over and grabbed Sakura's arm. Before Sakura could protest, Karin hauled her up onto the first place podium.
"Next time, no falling. We fight for this," Karin ordered, gaze stern. And she held her gold medal up for Sakura to see.
Flabbergasted, Sakura gaped at her. And then she dissolved into tears and laughter, her forehead pressed against Karin's. Karin laughed too, holding the back of Sakura's head. The pictures of them together filled the sports magazines and sites for the next several days. About the friendship between the two skaters at the Grand Prix Final.
And then, three months later, Sakura had come back stronger than ever. Swept up a gold at the World Championships. Karin looked at Sakura's gold medal like she had won it herself, a smirk on her lips. Arm around Sakura's waist, she laughed as they headed to the locker room. Ignoring the reporters trying to get in a word as Kisame acted as a wall around them.
Sakura graduated high school, just like she had promised her parents. And as per their deal, Sakura moved to Tokyo to attend college while she trained. They settled in at a rink there, where she met Kisame's other student. A kid with long black hair. And for a moment, Sakura's eyes narrowed as she sized up the girl who might become a future rival. And then her shoulders relaxed. Because, upon further inspection, she realized that this was a boy. Despite the long black hair pulled back in a ponytail.
"Ah. Is this Haku-kun?" asked Sakura as she pulled on her gloves. She stood next to Kisame, who was scowling. She had heard her coach complaining about him a few times in passing.
"Yeah. And he's had a shitty season so he's sulking," Kisame retorted.
Sakura eyed his lower lip jutting out. Her eyebrows rose.
"He's sulking?" she asked while tying her hair up into a bun. Kisame glowered at her for a moment. But she didn't flinch away. She had been training under him since she was a kid. After a while, Kisame looked away, his glower softening a bit.
"Kid's got talent. But he's too cocky for his own good. If he wants to make it in this world, he's gotta have 1% ego and 99% hard work," Kisame grumbled. And then he glanced at her.
"That goes for you too, Chibi. Don't forget it," he added.
"Got it, Coach. I ever get a big head and you can throw my skates at me," she replied with a salute. Kisame cringed. He dropped his arms to his sides.
"I'm not going to decapitate you, kid," he replied.
Sakura shrugged. "Your aim isn't that good, Coach. So I'm not worried."
"You little..." Kisame growled. And before he could fully scold her, Sakura, laughing, headed onto the ice. She glided around the rink once in an easy circle, winking at Kisame as she passed. And she pretended not to notice the way that Haku glared at her out of the corners of his eyes.
At the Grand Prix Final that year, Sakura won silver. Losing by only one point to the gold medalist from Italy. She and Karin had somewhat grudgingly admitted that the Italian had skated a spectacular short program. And so Sakura shook her hand with grace for the photo ops. She really was such a nice woman, and it didn't feel so bad to lose to someone so talented. She elbowed Karin when Karin whispered in her ear that the Italian skater was so old that she would retire soon.
When they gathered all the medalists for a group photo, Sakura was surrounded by familiar faces. The ice dancers from France kissed her cheeks, peppering her with praise that she only half-understood. The Canadian men's bronze medalist weaved in and out, trying to find someone else with a Blackberry who would "BBM" him. Whatever that meant. The pairs skaters from Russia, who had taken gold, laughed, mussing Karin's hair. She snapped something back in Russian, swatting their hands away.
And in this chatter, Sakura spotted Kaguya Kimimaro standing a little apart from the rest. He was chatting with the silver medalist in men's singles. When he caught her eye, he quickly looked away.
Sakura bristled a little. She couldn't help but feel a little insulted.
The following night, they all dressed up to attend the banquet. The party at the end of each Grand Prix was supposed to be a chance for all the skaters to socialize. Personally, Sakura wished there were fewer speeches, but free food wasn't such a bad thing in her book.
Since Kisame was useless in all things except skating, Sakura headed to Karin's room to dress. Karin zipped up the back of her dress as they gabbed and curled their hair.
"It's a shame that Mangetsu-kun isn't here," remarked Sakura, plopping onto the edge of Karin's bed. He hadn't managed to qualify for the Grand Prix Final ever since Kaguya Kimimaro had blown up a few years ago. Mangetsu still competed in other events, but internationally, it looked like it was going to be just her and Karin for a while.
Sakura looked down at her dress. It was black and strapless. She had received it as a gift from some designer in Japan. All she had to do, according to the letter, was mention the designer's name during one of her interviews later that night. She had never been a fan of shopping, so it was nice not to have to journey through the mall for hours. Besides her training clothes and her old high school uniform, there wasn't much else in her closet at home.
Karin turned to look at her, hoop earrings dangling back and forth.
"If you abandon me tonight, I'll kill you," Karin threatened, pointing her curling iron like a weapon. Sakura raised her hands up.
"Okay. But that means that when I go to talk to other people, you have to come with me," replied Sakura.
"Ugh," Karin groaned, rolling her eyes. She turned back to the mirror to finish curling the last sections of her hair.
Karin grabbed a glass of champagne as soon as they entered the party. She tried to hand a second one to Sakura before Kisame intervened.
"The drinking age is 20 in Japan," he growled, snatching the flute up.
"We're in Russia! Drinking age is 18 here!" Karin pointed out. Sakura didn't bother trying to disagree. Although she did make a face at her coach while he chugged the glass.
"Stupid old man," muttered Karin. Laughing, Sakura took Karin's hand and led her deeper into the party.
Sakura flitted from group to group. She was greeted with enthusiasm as they moved. And as the champagne kicked in, Karin grew more sociable. She even cracked a few jokes, a smile gradually forming on her lips.
They ran into Utakata halfway through the night. He wore a black suit with an awful striped blue tie. Karin and Sakura silently eyed it without saying anything. Both avoiding each other's eyes, for fear of bursting into laughter.
"Your short program was really gorgeous, Sakura-chan. I wonder who's the genius who choreographed it. Must have been someone really talented and handsome," Utakata murmured, stroking his chin. Sakura smiled.
"Thank you, Utakata-senpai. I don't know what I would have done without all your help this season," she responded. He patted her shoulder a few times. And then his eyes lit up as he spotted someone across the room.
"Yo! Kaguya. Come say hi!" he called, waving someone over.
Sakura's shoulders seized up. Karin's eyes darted to her face as she lifted her champagne to take another sip. They had already discussed the fact that Kimimaro seemed to be snubbing her. And Karin had agreed that he did seem even more terse with Sakura than he did with everyone else.
Kimimaro walked over. Hair tied back. Black suit with a silver tie. And he glared at Utakata when he put an arm over his shoulder.
"You should kiss up to Sakura-chan while she's still young. She won't give you the time of day in a couple years when she's a bigshot," Utakata teased, giving Kimimaro a little shake.
Kimimaro glared at Utakata before he cast a glance at Sakura. He dipped his head toward her before looking away.
Karin shoved her champagne into Sakura's hand. Sakura promptly downed the entire thing, ignoring Kisame's "HEY!" in the background.
At the World Championships a few months later, the same Kimimaro fell during practice, just before the final gala. The gala wasn't competitive, so he still walked away with his silver medal. But he had torn a ligament and recovery would take a while.
Kisame relayed all this to Sakura. Adding in a (threat) warning to be more careful during her practice sessions. Already used to this nagging, Sakura let her mind drift as she nodded at her coach.
Despite Kimimaro's frosty attitude toward her, Sakura couldn't help but feel bad for him. Injuries were common in their world, of course. She had bruised her knee badly last year and missed out on Japanese Nationals. It wasn't like she didn't understand.
But Kimimaro was in his prime. Something like this had the power to shorten or even end his career. And she knew that Kimimaro was currently a favorite for the Olympics coming up next year. His injury couldn't have come at a worse time.
"I'm going for a walk," she told Kisame, cutting him off in the middle of his lecture.
When Sakura called him, Utakata located her and took her to the clinic tucked away in the back offices of the practice rink.
"I'll stand guard. He's not technically supposed to have visitors," Utakata told her. Sakura hesitated, hand on the doorknob.
"Oh... should I not bother him?" she asked. But Utakata urged her on with a flap of his hand.
"Nah. Go ahead," he told her.
When Sakura entered the room, Kimimaro was looking out the window. His leg was elevated on a pillow. A huge ice pack wrapped around his ankle. There was a bandage wrapped around his wrist, too. It looked like he had used his hand to break the fall.
"Go away, Utakata. You're so persis-"
He froze as the door closed behind her.
All the lights were off. His phone sat on the side table. The screen lit up every few seconds with unread messages and emails.
"...Hello," she said.
"Hello," he replied.
Sakura stood close to the door, her hands rubbing against her thighs. And then she realized what she was doing and twisted her fingers together instead.
"I...uh... heard about..." Sakura trailed off, pointing toward his ankle. "...Sorry about that."
Kimimaro let out a sigh.
"Is it really bad?" she then asked.
Kimimaro closed his eyes. "The doctor says I probably won't need surgery. But it'll take a few months to recover," he replied.
Sakura cringed. She looked down at her hands.
"That's terrible," was all she could think to say.
"Yes."
The silence that fell over them was suffocating. Sakura fidgeted with the bottom of her sweatshirt for a bit. And then she took a deep breath.
"Sorry. This was a bad idea. I know you don't like me. I'll let you get some rest. I just wanted to... I don't know-" Sakura broke off with a sigh. She began to turn back to the door.
"Wait. Haruno-san."
Sakura lifted her chin.
Kimimaro was looking directly at her. He seemed to think carefully before he spoke again.
"...I realize that I haven't been particularly... nice to you. And... um. I'm... This is going to sound weird," he interrupted himself several times, fumbling.
Sakura said nothing.
"I've thought that you were great since your junior days. And I thought your free skate was exceptional this season. You've always had really clean jumps and landings. You're a very talented skater," Kimimaro told her.
"Huh?" Sakura heard herself say. She blinked several times as she tried to process what was happening. She shook her head a little.
"Then... but then- Why've you been ignoring me then?" she demanded.
To her surprise, Kimimaro turned his head to look out the window. His hand pressed to his cheek.
"...I thought it would be strange for a grown man to fawn over a little girl. I didn't want to seem creepy," he muttered.
"Utakata-senpai's been doing it for a while. It's not creepy when he does it," Sakura pointed out.
Kimimaro rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced her way. "I'm not quite as... socially-adept as Utakata. I'm good at skating... and that's about it."
Sakura considered this.
"Well... I can see that now," she said. And then she tilted her head. "But I'm a university student now, Kaguya-san. I don't think it'd be creepy for us to be friends now."
"Friends?" he repeated.
"I'm planning on staying at the top for a long time, Kaguya-san. We might as well get along," Sakura added.
Their eyes met.
"And it's okay if you're bad at friendship. Because... not to brag. But I'm really, really good at it," Sakura then told him, grinning.
Kimimaro chuckled.
"Okay. Sounds good."
