Chapter One: Promises

2/10/13

There's nothing better than feeling the rush of adrenaline the moment your feet leave the ice; the blur of the blue rink walls as they flash by in an indiscernible haze; the sound and the spray of ice chips as your skate catches a groove dug into the smooth surface; the feel of your muscles contracting, bracing and winning against the inevitability of gravity.

There's nothing better than the feeling of figure skating.

When I next step on the ice, I promise, I won't take it for granted. Next time

She paused, could she write that? Those two words 'next time', loomed far too large, ominously standing out from the blank page of her journal despite how innocuous the phrase seemed.

Doctor Friedemann had given them a 4-8-week timetable for rehabilitation, he'd promised that if she wore the back brace and cut off her on-ice training, the fracture would heal on its own.

Four long weeks of sitting about, lazing, watching the clock tick by as the rest of her peers progressed, and still, the pain persisted.

Okuda Tsuna.

A year ago, her name had meant something. She could have walked into any skating club across Japan and heard it mentioned in at least one conversation between excited children or in a hushed conversation between coaches as they discussed the latest junior competition. For a time, she had been regarded as one of the brightest lights. Leading the forefront of the Japanese figure skating, the upcoming talent thought to have the capability to surpass the old generation. She doubted that was still the case.

Tsuna stared down at the plain white covers on her bed, her eyes tracing the lightly stitched pattern, the simple outline one she'd grown intimately acquainted with over the past seven months. Her fingers traced the pattern by rote, as these past four weeks without the ice had etched the bedding design into her muscle memory. For hours on end as she'd stared out her window or read the homework her homeschool teacher had assigned her, her fingers had traced over the raised stitches engraining them into her being.

She shook her head; this year hadn't turned out the way she'd hoped.

America was supposed to have been her beginning. The step that would propel her not just into the senior world of figure skating but to the apex, where Olympic Gold lay.

Coach Andrei Moravec.

A taskmaster with a storied track record; he'd proven again and again over the decades that he had the ability to coach female skaters to Olympic and World glory. In the international world, those he coached rocketed to the top of the standings. Their jumps unmatched and in many cases technically flawless with never a hint of a negative 'Grade of Execution'. She had left her hometown of Takamatsu with the belief that he would be the coach that would make her unbeatable.

Tsuna flopped back, covering her face as she felt tears well in the corner of her eyes. It was disheartening that even that small motion was accompanied by a flare of pain. A reminder of the injury that had sidelined her for the past month.

The hot Californian sun beat relentlessly against the tiny bedroom window, a less than subtle reminder of the balmy weather just outside the apartment building. Despite the coming Fall weather, the current temperature at 80 degrees and impossibly sunny was in direct contrast to her morose attitude. Even the weather mocked her morose attitude.

When her family had been at its most fragile, she'd pulled her parents apart, travelling halfway across the world with only her mother all in search of a dream that might never come to fruition. She'd overlooked the language barrier, believing it to be something she could overcome, the cultural difference one that could eventually be overlooked. Now, seven months later, with a spine fractured in two different places and a coach that had seemingly lost all interest in her, it felt like she was floundering, adrift at sea without a hint of land in sight.

A tear slowly made its way down her cheek to wet the pillow underneath her head. Unquestionably as each minute ticked by, the pressure bearing down grew just a little more. With her first senior nationals just two months away and the Olympics in four, she didn't have time for injuries, these were the days and hours that counted the most, she couldn't afford to squander them.

What would he say, if at fourteen her dreams died, and she became a has-been before she had ever become anything?

She'd tried and trained so hard and, in the process, broken herself. No, she shook her head, she'd been broken long before coming to Santa Clarita.

The front door of the apartment squeaked softly before giving way to the sound of quiet feet on linoleum flooring. It was all the forewarning she had, with hurried motions, Tsuna sat up and brushed away any evidence of the tear tracks that had made her way down her cheeks.

"Tsuna? Darling?"

Tsuna could hear the fake cheer in her mother's voice, the lilt added to her voice that did little to cover up the deep-seated tiredness. It was important to remember that she wasn't the only one that had been worn down over the past few months, a toll had been felt by everyone in her family, she couldn't allow herself to add to the weight.

"Are you hungry?" Her mother stuck her head into their shared bedroom, a small smile on her face.

No, "Yes." she lied. They both knew that neither of them had truly felt hungry in a while, still, they refused to shatter the delicate façade that lay heavy over their lives. "Sorry, just give me a second."

"Good—" she withdrew, "—I'll have to leave soon, but I'd like to see you before I do."

How could she deny her mother, especially after everything she did for her, everything she'd sacrificed in the name of her training. She could make herself eat.

·‡·

The kitchen was small. Fitted with a glass table just big enough for two and a connected area just large enough to turn around in and cook. It was a far cry from the kitchen she'd grown up in; still, they'd made do. Still, though it was just the two of them whenever her mother and herself worked together in the space they inevitably touched arms or collided as they worked around each other.

"Here, set out the rice for me— Coach Moravec called me, he wants you at the rink on Monday. He told me that he's bringing in an excellent physical therapist to assess your progress," she said, turning and pulling a few other ingredients from the cupboards. "A Japanese man and a former skater. I couldn't hear him very clearly, but I believe Coach Moravec said his name was Naito-san?" She handed Tsuna a second bowl before steering her to stand in front of the stove.

Tsuna hummed quietly under her breath; she couldn't care if the man was Japanese, Chinese, Russian. If Coach Moravec thought him good enough to get her back on the ice and save her season, he could be from Lesotho for all she cared. "The tamagoyaki is finished."

"Good, set it on top of the rice for me dear. Coach Moravec said that we're lucky to get Naito-san, that he works with some of the top athletes in the world, but because of a few mutual acquaintances, Moravec-san was able to get him to fly to California… Tsuna? Darling? are you listening?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Here, place the pickles and soup on the table and go sit down. I'll finish the fish."

Fish, soup, rice and eggs, they ate the same thing most nights. It was a dinner high in protein, or as her mother liked to say, 'a dinner that was fit for an athlete'. They both knew the truth. She'd seen how her mother shifted through the coupon booklet, carefully cutting out those with the best deals, before placing them carefully in the small leather book she'd taken to carrying around with her. Like, the small bible, one of her rink mates carried in her bag and brought out before every competition. She saw her mother touching it sometimes, her fingers running over the worn leather for just a moment before hiding it once again from her sight.

She wasn't supposed to have seen it; like so many facets of their life since moving from Japan, it was just one of many that needed to be swept under the rug. Poking at the egg, she watched it jiggle on its perch on top of the rice, what a precarious situation, at any moment it all could topple over.

"—darling? Tsuna, are you listening to me?" asked her mother; placing the fish and the last of the bowls on the tiny table. "Moravec seems to think that with the physical therapists help there's no way you won't be ready for championships. By the time February rolls around, you'll be back to your old self just in time for the Olympics." She reached across the table and stroked Tsuna's cheek with a finger, "Olympic gold."

Her stomach clenched, "right" She'd dreamt of the day she'd find herself on top of the podium, standing there in front of the crowd, the Japanese anthem blaring, her country's flag waving behind her, but to hear that dream vocalized sent shivers down her spine. "He said that… He thought that I—" she choked feeling her throat close, she couldn't finish the sentence, not with her mother looking on. "I'll win, for you, dad and Isao, I promise."

"Oh, darling, I know you will. There's not a single more talented skater out there, not a one. Coach Moravec knows it, your father and I know it." She reached across the table intertwining her fingers with Tsuna's, her eyes flickering down to her wristwatch. "You know it too. Here… eat. I have to go, or I won't catch the bus." She leaned across the table, brushing her lips across Tsuna's forehead. "I'll be back late tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Farzin-san need me to stay and take care of little Yekta and Mofid. They're going to a big party for the hospital. A donor party with a lot of important people from across the city, so they probably won't be back until late, which means I won't get to see you until tomorrow. Don't forget to finish that fish."

As prompted, she picked at the fish, taking small morsels off little by little, listening as her mother bustled around in their shared bedroom. "Your pocketbook is in the bedroom, right next to the dresser."

"Thank you."

With only half her attention she listened as her mother prattled on about the Farzin's. Switching so quickly between Japanese and English that on more than one occasion she combined the two languages, to create a strange amalgamation of the two that one had to be bilingual to understand. Masae, her mother, did it subconsciously, an innocent mistake that served as a subtle reminder of just how far away from home they truly were.

Her mother bustled by, her hair falling out of the ponytail she'd quickly put it in. "Eat the fish, and don't forget to do your visualization exercises before bed. Oh! And you have Akeno-san's number in case you need anything, and don't forget to finish your homework." She paused at the apartment door, fingers tapping just at the place where the wood chipped, "I feel like I've forgotten something…"

"Everything will be fine. I promise," Tsuna said.

"Oh, darling, I know it will." With a hollow thunk, the door swung shut behind her. Just as quickly as she'd appeared her mother was gone, and the apartment was once again thrust into silence.

Tsuna sat, listening to the conversations of the neighbors and the shrill scratches of the Olumese's child's cello as he practiced what sounded like a poor attempt at either a scale or some new avant-garde composer. She paused, listening closer, it was as she'd originally thought, just a badly performed scale.

She leaned her head against the thin wall, concentrating on the screeching of the musical instrument, the boy was currently murdering. The tears came as easily as they always had, the classical music striking a chord within her that she'd attempted to bury deep within. Isao had once practiced his cello like that. She'd been young, almost far too young to remember, as he'd picked up the cello at five. Still, listening to the squeaky cello awakened memories she'd long since repressed. She remembered the early mornings when she'd woken up to the screeching of his instrument, far too tired to do anything but roll over and pretend he wasn't practicing in the room just next to hers. At the time she'd been convinced that if it was possible for an inanimate object to feel pain, his cello was certainly being tortured.

Truthfully, she didn't remember the moment the harsh noises had turned into music. When he'd grown from a child playing with a piece of polished wood to a musician capable of bringing a crowd to the edge of their seats.

She shook her head, now wasn't the time to think about him, that's what the nights were for and the quiet bus rides to and from the skating club.

Tsuna picked up her chopsticks and began to delicately eat the fish set before her.

It wasn't fresh, and the rice was a strange American version that despite their best efforts refused to stick together as it should, but this was the home they'd created. One, her mother worked two jobs to maintain while her father covered the cost of her coaching and everything else. It was her duty, her promise to her mother, father and brother to try her best and succeed. She ate the fish.

·‡·

Stand at the edge of the boards, remove her skate guards, bow to coach Moravec, skate two laps performing powerful crossovers, keeping her muscles warm, listen to last-minute advice from her coach, take center ice.

She saw everything in her mind's eye, felt the tremor run through her as excitement and anticipation made it almost impossible to completely hold still.

The crowd hushed, waiting for the first chord, Vitali's Chaconne in G Minor sounded and she pushed off. Meditative and peaceful she worked her way across the ice, her body following the music, letting it guide and flow around her, wrapping the audience and herself within its soft cocoon.

Two hours of visualization performing the routine over and over until she could envisage each perfect moment. Each jump scored a perfect +3 GOE, her edges during her step sequences were textbook, her positions during her spins flawless. In her imagination, when she skated she was perfect, if only in the hope that life would imitate art.

It was only the beeping of her phone that stirred her; 9:30 pm, thirty minutes past her bedtime. It was always so tempting to stay within her mind, there, she was the Okuda Tsuna she knew she could be, there, her body didn't have aches and pains, there, she could be the perfect daughter and sister, the one who could keep every promise.

She curled up on the second of the two twin beds. Closest to the window and covered in the stuffed animals she'd brought from Japan, and the journal she'd begun just four weeks ago to document the current journey, she both dreaded and welcomed the release she got from it.

Pushing her trepidation to the side, Tsuna laid the journal open, reading the sentence she'd left unfinished.

When I next step on the ice, I promise, I won't take it for granted. Next time. Once more. Indulge me one more time and then I promise I'm done.

There would be no next time. After the Olympics, she was finished.

It was there in writing before her, a written promise to herself, one she wouldn't allow herself to break. What was she if she couldn't define and hold herself to her words?

She stared down at the words, inscribing them into her being, fortifying herself for the hardships and pain to come. As if in answer her back twinged, the pain running through her back, the muscles spasming. Four months and she'd never put her parents through this again.

Her dreams that night were full of nightmares.

·‡·

"My God, look at you."

She was engulfed in a hug, from behind, just as a yelp forced its way from her lips.

"I've missed you so much. Moravec has been awful since you've been away, he made us do like twenty suicides the other day after practice."

"Anne—" she gasped, "—my back, get off."

"Oh, right sorry, I forgot. I was just so excited. Practice hasn't been the same without you my little Tsuna bear."

She closed her eyes, bearing with Anne's attempt to emulate a limpet with as much dignity as she could muster. Anne let go and for just a second Tsuna thought the hug had come to an end. Only for her to spin Tsuna around before pulling her into another tight hug, pressing Tsuna's face far too tight for comfort against Anne's shoulder. "Are you trying to suffocate me?"

"—I almost have my triple axel, Mo thinks that if I have it by the time nationals rolls around then it'll be goodbye fourth place, and hello first!" Anne said, shaking her slightly, ignoring Tsuna's muffled protests. "And we both know what first means; a spot on the Olympic team."

Tsuna grinned, sharing in Anne's excitement. God knows she'd kill to even dream of landing a triple axel, still, she was a big enough person, she could be happy for Anne. "That's amazing, Coach Moravec must be really happy." She paused working hard to school her features just so, hoping the other couldn't see the envy she could feel so clearly breaking through. "We'll talk more about it later, I should go greet coach, before he yells at you for not skating," said Tsuna. "I want to see your triple axel."

Anne let out a muffled whoop and skipped off towards the ice, leaving her guards on the rink's waist-height walls. "Hey, Coach Mo! I'm going to start on axels and work up to my triple. Tsu, don't forget to watch, it really is awesome." Anne pushed away from the wall, just barely escaping a collision with the only other skater on the ice, before turning to wave excitedly at Tsuna.

She leaned against the boards, watching as the two skaters, Anne and Haley intertwine in incongruous patterns across the ice, each caught in their own world, focused solely on themselves and their own practice. Despite the random patterns, they all centered around one nexus; a severe-looking heavy-set man, who stood in the center of the ice watching the proceedings with an eagle eye. Andrei Moravec. There were other coaches at the club, but Moravec was the reason the top skaters in the world congregated in Santa Clarita, California. Those skaters that he handpicked to work with received his full attention every day without fail and all the perks that came with it.

Moravec skated slowly to the side of the rink, coming to a stop in front of Tsuna. "That girl—" he nodded towards Anne, "—so talented and yet so unfocused, not like you, eh?" said Coach Moravec. He turned to Tsuna, patting her gently on the hand.

His thick Slavic accent mixed harshly with the English making his words almost unintelligible to the casual observer; still, he had no problem communicating with his skaters and making his intentions and corrections understood. Moravec nodded to her, "your back is better yes? Dr. Friedemann told me you can begin your rehabilitation starting this week—" He stiffened, attention caught by one of Anne's double axel attempts, as her free leg swung out wildly. "There will be no triple attempts today if your doubles remain as messy as that last one," he called out.

"Um, Coach Moravec, my mother said you had someone for me to meet?"

He glanced down at her, making her feel all five and a half feet of her height.

"Mr. Naito?"

"Naito? I don't know … Nai— oh, you mean Nilton? Nilton Leite, not a very successful skater but an excellent physical therapist. He had a very short career for Brazil, but as a therapist, he's world-class." He paused, slamming his fist down on the top of the boards, bringing the entire rink's attention to him. "Haley, your rotation is too slow, and Anne, don't even try to attempt a triple axel this practice, work on your step sequence instead. Tsuna—" her name when said in his thick accent was barely recognizable, "—while we wait for Nilton, go work up a sweat on the elliptical."

There was no doubt that the past few months and especially the last four weeks with limited to no exercise had taken a toll on her body; eroding the muscles she'd spent years honing. Within twenty minutes she could feel the sweat dripping down her back, within twenty-five she could no longer hide just how out of breath she was. There was some relief, as the knot that had sat at the base of her spine for the past month dissipated with the repeated motion until it was a pale shade of what it had been.

"Slow down, feel each muscle as you move."

Hands wrapped around her waist, acting as a human brace for her back, keeping her from twisting.

"You're babying your back and your injury, you'll end up hurting something else if you continue." He stepped around the back of the machine giving her a clear view of the man. "Nilton Leite, a pleasure to meet you. Coach Moravec asked me to come and help your recovery."

She gawked; hearing Japanese from someone that wasn't Akeno-san or her mother was a welcome shock. From even the quickest of glances it was obvious there was nothing Japanese about the man. Blonde with deeply tanned skin, he reminded Tsuna of the surfers that spent so much time in the California waters.

"Here," Nilton stepped forward, once more placing his hands on her waist, "slow your motion and turn from side to side as you move. There, do you feel that? Nothing harsh, every motion smooth from your feet to your hands. We should treat our bodies as a machine, each part intricately connected to the other." He nodded satisfied. "Andrei said the competition you need to be ready for is in eight weeks."

"Mm-hmm, Japanese senior nationals, if…" she paused her feet uneven putting her slightly off balance. "If I'm chosen that is."

He gave her a small grin, "okay, off the elliptical. Moravec told me that the doctor gave you stretches, have you been doing them?"

"Everyday."

"Good, I'll do an evaluation and give you my own prognosis. We'll see if anything needs to be reevaluated."

He took his time manipulating her back and forth, stretching her back, testing her current range of motion. Nilton cleared his throat, "I watched your free skate and short program from last year's junior grand prix circuit, to see your most recent range of flexibility. It looks like almost half of your flexibility has been lost. Depending on how long it takes for you to heal, you might have to change a few of your routines. Mm-hmm, especially for your nationals, I'd recommend changing or downgrading your spins, especially the ones that put the largest strain on your back." He clicked quietly under his breath, taking a note on his paper. "I can't ask you to completely stop your season. But I doubt you'll gain full mobility back within four months, especially without rest."

Numbly she listened to Nilton talk, watching his mouth move, the words falling on deaf ears. She remembered that performance that he'd referenced. Just under a year ago, with that performance, she'd won Junior World's and broken the junior free skate record. It'd also been the performance that had prompted coach Moravec to offer her a spot among his skaters. He'd told her and her parents that when he'd watched the finals he'd been so impressed with not only her mental fortitude but her athletic ability that he had to offer her a spot.

She nodded, letting Nilton continue to do his tests.

He stretched her arms above her head, elongating her spine. He had a light touch, not once since they'd begun had her back felt particularly strained and yet in the past few minutes she'd moved more than she had in the past few weeks, and without pain.

Tsuna nodded again, letting his words wash over her, taking them with a grain of salt. She'd do what he told her to a point, but she'd never accepted giving up on the season. "You speak Japanese very well."

Nilton paused, most likely taken aback by the sudden change in conversation. "—Bend back as far as you can. I lived in Naha for a time and learned Japanese during that period. I'll support your lower back." He allowed her the freedom to lean back at her own pace, the entire time holding her up with one of his hands. "Does that feel comfortable?"

She shook her head, "it feels okay, but there is some tightness at the base of my spine." Nilton hummed before guiding her up.

Tsuna watched silently as he wrote in an impossibly messy script in his notebook, "I've never been to Naha before but I've heard it's wonderful there. I lived in Kagawa prefecture before I came here."

He glanced up, "Kagawa? Really? What a coincidence, my wife's family is from there. Every year when we go back to Japan we visit, it's a beautiful place. Every time we go, we love riding the ferry." He laughed softly his eyes misting over at a memory from his time there. "I fell off one of the ferry's once, years before, on our first date," he said, trailing off, as just for a moment he was caught in the recollection. Without prompting he shook himself, breaking himself from the memory. "You brought your skates today, yes?"

She nodded, gesturing to the skate bag she'd dropped in the corner of the small gym.

"Good, I want to watch you skate a few laps around the rink. Nothing fancy, I just want to see if the degradation in your muscles has affected your stroke." He picked up her bag, along with his own he'd placed in the opposite corner. "I'll carry it, I doubt that lifting this heavy bag feels particularly good on your back even if you're wearing that brace."

"Um, Leite-san," she felt her cheeks burn, "why are you helping me?— not that I'm not grateful, but coach Moravec mentioned that you were in high demand, so why did you come all this way to help rehabilitate my career?"

"Why shouldn't I? I think you're talented, why wouldn't I go out of my way to help a young skater that has had an unfortunate injury."

"But," it wasn't just her cheeks that felt far too hot, now it was her neck and all the way down through her chest. She was sure that if she had a mirror her entire body would be the shade of a tomato. "But why? There are so many figure skaters that are talented like I was that got injured. Was it because of coach Moravec?"

Nilton paused, his hand on the wooden swing door leading to the rink, his back impossibly straight despite the two bags that should break his perfect posture. "My wife was a Japanese figure skater for a time in the '80s. Towards the end of her career I watched her struggle through injury after injury. Never able to get healthy, she spent the last three years of her career in constant pain. You have a very similar expressiveness in your skating that reminded me of her earlier years and I guess after watching your junior career, I couldn't allow you to walk the same path."

Her two rink mates Anne and Haley flew over the ice, practicing for their respective nationals under coach Moravec's watchful gaze. This was an Olympic year, and the pressure on each skater as the months wore on was immense, from their families, their coaches, the nation. She'd seen both of their routines more times than she could count, as the summer months had come to a close and the fun of learning new skills had petered out. Coach Moravec and their choreographers had taken to drilling each hand movement, marking the places where they were to smile, perfecting each jump. By Nationals their routines would be faultless and by the Olympics, they'd be immaculate.

"Leg up on the landing Haley, present yourself," called coach Moravec.

She'd promised herself Olympic gold, that promise meant she'd have to not only beat the world, but she'd also have to beat Anne and Haley as well. Tsuna stood, feeling the brace under her clothes restrict her breathing, Anne with her incredible jumping skills, Haley with her almost endless stamina and charisma. She bent, removing her guards, stepping one foot after the other onto the ice.

Staying towards the very outskirts of the rink, Tsuna took her first steps in weeks on the icy surface. Long gliding steps, testing out her legs feeling herself shift the balance from one to the other. Her mind felt so far from her body, each step bringing her closer to the same meditative place she found before each competition.

Deftly she moved across the ice, running through her short program choreography, her hands marking the movements, imagining the jumps, spins and step sequences that would come in the coming weeks. Haley flew by her, passing her with a slight smile and a wave before continuing practicing her free skate step sequence.

"Okay, I've seen enough, Tsuna come over." Nilton waved to her from where he stood next to coach Moravec. "Andrei showed me the x-rays your doctor took from four weeks ago, and the ones from just a few days ago." He turned to coach Moravec, "There's still some significant swelling around the lower back area, that if she isn't given a significant amount of rest will only result in worsening the injury. In my opinion, despite the doctor's go ahead, I'd continue to rest Tsuna for at least another two to four weeks."

"—Two weeks?"

"—Two weeks!"

Her stomach felt far too heavy; like Nilton had gone and fed her a lead weight. Two more weeks of sitting as Anne, Haley and the entire world improved. Coach Moravec's face flushed an uncomfortable color of red, the same color she was sure was reflected on her own face. This close to nationals and with the Olympics just a stone's throw away, it was as if Nilton had struck a death knell. Hands that had always been so steady and legs that had supported and pushed her to the top ranks of Japan's juniors shook with panic. He'd given her the warning while they'd stood in the gym, but it hadn't registered that he might recommend more time off the ice.

"Two to four weeks. I'm sure you're both worried about Tsuna's routines and you won't have as much time as others to perfect your routines; but you'll be healthy and god-willing if you take your time now, you'll have many years to come." He turned to her, grabbing her shaking hands in his own. "Obviously, it's not ideal, but I promise in the long run, years from now, you will thank yourself for letting your body heal."

She only realized she was crying when the tears mixed with snot and dripped down her lip the salty liquid entering her mouth.

"I'll write up my official recommendation and email it to both you and Andrei before I return to Florida. Tsuna-san," he waited until he had her full attention before continuing. "Of course, if you have any questions please don't hesitate to email, I'll return in about three weeks' time from my wife's rink in Florida and see how your back has progressed. But you'll have to do your part as well, follow the stretches, when you have your ballet classes no jumps in the center, just bar and then slow adagio. And I'll be adding a few cross-training elements as well to your schedule."

"Thank you, Nilton for your recommendations." Coach Moravec clapped the slightly smaller man on the back. "I'd hoped you'd have better news, but I guess there's nothing to be done. I'll review your email and consider the recommendations."

"Consider?" Nilton's face blanched, turning several shades lighter as his eyes narrowed briefly and his lips thinned. "Seriously, Andrei— we'll need to talk." He turned to her, switching once more to Japanese, "Tsuna-san, you should go get out of your skates for today, you won't be doing anymore skating."

She turned and gave a slight bow to them both, before skating back across the rink to the entrance she'd come in and where she'd left her guards.

"Well?" Anne came to a slow t-stop in front of where she stood. "When are you joining us?" She gave a small nod over her shoulder, indicating the only other skater on the ice. "You know that even though Haley won't say it she misses you too."

"A month." The taste of salt was back in her mouth, and she realized belatedly she was crying again.

"Oh," Anne froze, her face contorted as she struggled with how to respond to her sudden influx of tears. "I'm sorry, you know I'm not good with…all of this—" awkwardly, she pat Tsuna's hand, "—you're still be at ballet though, right? You just won't be on the ice?"

Tsuna shrugged, "seems like," she glanced behind her at the two figures caught in what looked like a heated discussion. From where she stood, despite the entire rink separating them she and everyone else could tell that neither were particularly happy with the other.

In a flurry of ice shavings, Haley came to a stop next to Anne. "So, is coach Mo going to tell your federation, or are you?"

"What?"

"Coach Moravec calls all our federations monthly and tells them about our preparations. Didn't you know that? The U.S has a system in place that if your injured, but you've proven yourself in the previous year's worlds, there's a possibility for a committee to set aside a place for the skater on the Olympic team. 'Course that's providing you can show you'll be ready in time." Haley fiddled with her fingers, a look of contemplation on her face. "I mean, it's happened before… right? … Anne? Aren't I right? In years past? With previous Olympic team members. They had a verification process for them separate from Nationals a few weeks before the Olympics and if they were ready, they got the spot."

Tsuna shook her head, ending the conversation. "There is no system like that in Japan, if you don't compete in nationals there's no chance at making the Olympic team." She slid her second guard on and stepped completely off the ice. "Don't look like that Anne. It's not like I died. I'm not out just yet; just you watch, I'll be back better than ever."

"Of course," said Anne, as she leaned across the boards and pulled Tsuna into a tight hug. "I have no doubt, all three of us will meet in the free skate. Oh, geez… I'm getting your snot on me; gross. Haley, are you just going to stand there, get in here and join this hug. Snot for all! Am I right?"

"Please—" Haley rolled her eyes, "—I think we all know I'm never going to do that."

"Sometimes I forget despite how you try to disguise it, you're just like coach Mo, un-touchy and un-feely!" Anne stuck her tongue out, blowing a raspberry at Haley's retreating figure. "I swear she still thinks the world revolves around the stick up her ass. Just cause she's twenty-one, doesn't live with her parents and has a few international titles doesn't mean she's better than us."

"Anne, come on; don't. you'll only make her mad, and the rest of your practice will be he—"

"—Anne! If you're not practicing, get off the ice!" Moravec's yell broke through the serene quiet of the rink, breaking the meditative swishing of Haley's blades on the glass-like ice. "Anne!"

Anne tugged her closer. "Does he look mad?"

His arms tightly crossed and Nilton nowhere in sight, the old Russian looked the farthest thing from happy. "Well he might have killed the physical therapist, so no... I don't think he looks happy. Good luck!"

Anne tightened her hold for just a moment then stepped back flashing her a victory sign. "Hurry back okay, it's not the same here with just Mr. and Mrs. Grumpy."

Tsuna flashed her own victory sign, "Promise!"

2/10/13

25 minutes stretching

53 minutes high paced elliptical

6 laps around the rink

Author's Note:

Shoutout to 'wrackspurtsnargles' for helping beta this chapter. If you have the chance you should check out her work 'Breathing', it's really engaging and good, I'd totally recommend it!