In the usual late hour's quietness, Minjoo went to the room with enormous mirrors, white walls and windows overlooking the not-yet-darkened city, alive with lights of all kinds. The spinner harness was held up to the ceiling, and Eunbi was busy adjusting the video projector that had visibly been moved. Much more comfortable than on previous occasions, Minjoo dropped her two bags near the door and sprawled on the blue carpet, her hands shielding her eyes from the spotlights on the ceiling. If it wasn't for a debriefing of the last session and the promised bulgogi, she'd be fast asleep in her bed by now, probably in a deep sleep, dreaming of who was due to arrive from the shower at any moment.

"Try not to fall asleep here," Eunbi jested, giving her a sympathetic smile.

When she wasn't in meticulous, fussy coach mode, Kwon Eunbi almost had a comforting aura. She wasn't like a big sister, for she was still a former world champion and a talented coach, but her temperate teaching and relaxed manner made it so comfortable that Minjoo only responded with a thumbs up, too exhausted to do anything else.

The two practices had ruined her. It was unheard of in her career to do two hours of intensive hockey and then almost three hours of figure skating. Well, the figure skating in question was also unheard of in her career until a while ago. Good riddance, she thought. Her legs couldn’t take it anymore. Nor her arms, nor even her core, tore out by being endlessly contracted. Having put on a hoodie over her T-shirt, she was slowly beginning to warm up, helped by the heater, but it would take a few extra minutes for her drained body to regain its natural temperature. Six hours in the rink's cold even froze her brain cells to the point she began seeing stars spinning around her head again before being interrupted by the door opening on the skater.

It was the first time Minjoo had stayed late enough to be at the debriefing, but more importantly, late enough to see Chaewon fresh out from the shower, looking even more adorable than usual. Her water-darkened hair emitted the scent of nourishing shampoo, argan oil permeating the room. She had swapped her black leggings for grey sweatpants, and as to not ask for too much, an ODSD hoodie covered even her hands, just like whenever it wasn't fleeces or fitted figure skating jackets with thumb holes. After grey, brown and purple, this one was navy blue and It looked good on her. Finally, when the shower gel fragrance became stronger to her left, Minjoo sat up with difficulty, spreading her legs to relieve the burning sensation, offering an exhausted smile to the one who had just sat down next to her.

Eunbi stood in front of a whiteboard on which she was writing several things that appeared on the touchpad, and while Chaewon seemed to be reading them carefully, Minjoo could only see gibberish made up of letters and numbers. It was almost as if the cold had frozen her brain to the point where she couldn't tell the difference between what was written on the board and her chemistry homework. What the heck 3ATh, 2Lz, and S4 mean? The more time passed, the more she got used to it, and the less she understood figure skating. First, Eunbi had told her about angular momentum, which depended on only one thing, the moment of inertia, and the importance of this control to execute jumps. From this, the hockey player had learned she had to jump at the right moment and quickly enough, but she didn't mind it too much either; she was not the one who had to do three rotations in the air, fortunately.

Then Eunbi had talked about how force and gravity increase their body weight by five to eight times when landing jumps, requiring perfect anticipation of the landing before even starting the rotations. During the second practice, Chaewon proved this by performing a Triple Lutz, and Eunbi had explained that when spinning so fast, stopping suddenly on a hard surface was the second most complicated step. Without going into detail but doing it enough to lose Minjoo, the trainer had explained the ratio of force depending on vectors and the stiffness of the boots, hence the importance of being flexible and supple. This was already too much for a hockey player who saw figure skating as gliding, jumping, turning and landing, but adding letters and numbers? Minjoo thought she was losing her sanity.

She glanced briefly at Chaewon, as if to check if she was seeing the same thing, but the skater obviously comprehended everything, even pursing her lips as Eunbi began to draw arrows and circles. Finally turning around, Minjoo's utterly confused face brought a smile to the coach's face, "Looks like I've lost one. Never seen this before? Triple Axel Throw, double Lutz rotation, Salchow...? Those are just abbreviations for jumps."

Eventually, Eunbi and Chaewon did their debriefing without any intervention from the one who didn't understand anything. It was far too technical between accuracy rates, sequence cohesions, delays or advances in execution, number of attempts for number of successes, a margin of improvement, cumulative points and technical and artistic score estimates. Finally, in semi-consciousness, slumped over her arms, her cheekbone resting against her shoulder, Minjoo figured out that the coaches were estimating a score of 215 with a significant margin for improvement, which was apparently more than promising. Chaewon looked very proud of her creation, and that was a delight.

Thus the best part was when Eunbi erased the whole board and pressed the video projector's button.

"Hwajun had some time, so he made a little compilation of our shots over the last few weeks," she announced, probably in such a jovial mood considering the encouraging results. It was as if victory, the podium, was already guaranteed, without Hyunjin even having practised the choreography once. So...Minjoo did possess a little talent in this practice, after all. Contrary to what her old figure skater trainer had yelled while pushing her out of the rink when she preferred speed to balance and elegance ten years earlier. "You must know him, right? He's also in charge of hockey."

"Yeah, I know," the player nodded, bringing her legs up to her waist, encircling them, stretching her aching feet, eager to see that compilation.

"He told me he had fun editing. I can't wait to find out," the coach smiled, going through her emails.

"He did something so good for the Halloween gala last year," said Chaewon, snug in her hoodie, hands deep in her pockets. The contrast between the cold rink and the warm room made her cheeks flush, and she was as cute as she had been in the first few practices. She giggled as she turned her head towards Minjoo, "Like the program was on Monster High music, and he added effects and a screamer and all."

"The screamer being you facing the camera," the hockey player grumbled, instantly getting an offended hit on the shoulder, then a second one because she laughed. But she liked it so much.

Jong Hwajun was the media manager for the winter sports section at the centre. Put differently, he was in charge of filming and broadcasting games and performances for the public and taking official videos for the school's media coverage. It wasn't uncommon to see him drop by at practice to make short videos that he would post on the school's accounts or send to anyone who demanded them. Minjoo knew him well; he had already compiled her best goals from last season to welcome her and always produced quality work. Judging by his laughing eyes and big glasses, it was no wonder he sometimes had fun making funny little edits. At the end of last season's hockey assembly, he projected a best falls compilation, causing general laughter throughout the rink, ending the evening in the best possible way.

And this one started well enough, as, with grotesquely epic music, the video began with a close-up of Chi Hyunjung not being able to find the option to switch cameras. The young women were already laughing, sitting on the blue carpets, lights switched off. Luckily, Hyunjung wasn't there to see how the editor mocked her struggle with the IPad. The video turned grey, the music more absurdly epic as the coach got more annoyed, zooming in on her eyes, switching to her feet before returning to . At some point, the screen went black, and then the music started slowly on Chaewon moving closer and closer to the camera, not smiling at all, but not seriously either, waggling her eyebrows as Eunbi had to step back, scolding her. Minjoo was already smiling as if her lips couldn't stretch any further. Almost like she was lovestruck. Yet, it had been only the video’s first twenty seconds.

It was enchanting, having that visual memory of those two oddly extraordinary weeks that had passed. It also contained the other practices that Minjoo wasn't attending in the mornings and early afternoons, giving her a glimpse behind the scenes. To the upbeat music, she discovered how the spinner harness worked in this room. The video showed Chaewon and Hyunjin jumping, hoisted into the air and rapidly spinning several times, arms crossed against their chest. The young women also laughed when, after a few tries filmed by the coach, Hwajun's edit grotesquely insisted on Chaewon tripping over her feet, too dizzy to walk straight, falling on her .

Next, it showed several shots Eunbi had taken during technical training, the ones Minjoo had always wanted to see. It wasn't with her own eyes, but she was finally seeing Chaewon's breathtaking talent at executing quadruple and triple rotations on her jumps for a pair figure skater, whether they were Lutz, Salchow or even Axels. More than impressed, Minjoo didn't even realise that was agape, her eyes wide with admiration as the video continued, showing the grace and control that Chaewon displayed, not to mention her beauty. Oh yes, she was gorgeous. And talented. Incredibly talented and gorgeous. So perfect that Minjoo felt a few snowflakes fall from the back of to her lungs, lightly swirling around.

And then, changing the mood completely, ridiculous music made Minjoo want to hide ten feet underground as her silliest falls, filmed by the coaches during practice to study the compositions later, showed. She buried her head in her arms in embarrassment as the other two burst out laughing at the first times the hockey player struck her toe-picks in the ice with every acceleration. She'd come a long way, for all that, seeing how she'd struggled with the skates a fortnight ago. Again, she wasn't going to miss them, but if it could make Chaewon laugh like she was doing now, Minjoo wouldn't mind putting them on and falling all over again. Her stumbles were truly ridiculous, and if she'd known it was being filmed, she would have held back from grimacing every time.

Several other technical training and practice clips without too much editing when it was just a matter of seeing the progress showed. It was fascinating, by the way, to see how movement improved more precisely and linked together more harmoniously with each practice. In the first one, it looked a bit messy, as if it was impossible to fancy the final result of these two weeks. In fact, it was almost timid. Shy, and the videos proved it, because Minjoo didn't dare to commit too much, and Chaewon didn't dare to ask either. Perceiving it from an external point of view, it was obvious.

The light from the video projector illuminated the darkened room enough for the skater's face to be lit up, and Minjoo glanced at her. Chaewon was smiling, as timidly closed, her eyes forming crescents as the darkness did nothing to hide a tiny blush on her already rosy cheeks. It was awfully adorable, and Minjoo directed her attention back to the video projected on the whiteboard, showing a sequence of Eunbi explaining something to them, miraculously filmed by Hyunjung, if ever she had noticed the camera was on. Oh, Minjoo had been a fool not seeing it from the beginning. It was so obvious.

Her stomach flipped at the clip, which betrayed something she'd never supposed back then. It was them, in the initial position during the third practice, Minjoo standing close behind Chaewon, not daring to encircle her waist. And it was Chaewon nibbling her lip, hesitant before taking Minjoo's hand, sliding it against her belly, capturing her smile between her teeth, taking a deep breath. Oh . So...when she was short of breath when they were in this position, it wasn't necessarily from fatigue?

But also... When Chaewon was practising alone, she never played with her necklace, so why did she always have it between her fingers when they were both on the ice? Minjoo took her eyes off the screen, and Chaewon must have realised the same thing because she promptly stopped playing with the little gold chain, caught in the act. They exchanged a brief glance and instantly turned their heads, embarrassingly grinning. It was so many little details, really, in this immensity of elements such as jumps and crossovers. It was hidden smiles, not assumed, little nervous gestures and stolen glances, making hearts turn as fast as Chaewon herself while doing Axel jumps.

After a while, Hwajun's video ended on yesterday's clips, and after a lively discussion, Eunbi connected the touchpad where the day's recordings were. The great moment of truth, as she designated it, the two devices pairing up.

"I chose the two best attempts to, you know, get a global idea," Eunbi said, flipping through the files and selecting the second-to-last video. "Personally, I'm amazed. You tell me what you think. Minjoo, you're impressive for someone who never did figure skating."

Impatient to see those two weeks of work's results, the hockey player straightened her back a little, focused. She was used to observing certain moments of their games in strategy briefings where Coach Oh would take the clips to show everything that needed to be avoided to improve the quality of the game, but this was not the same. In these cases, it was a team observation for everyone. Yes, Cocho would make individual comments, negative and positive, but only if they were beneficial to the group. Here, even if it was pair figure skating, therefore another kind of teamwork, it was different. Because Eunbi repeated it at least ten times per training, this art is about cohesion, chemistry, harmony, being one. Chaewon and Hyunjin were renowned as the future of pair figure skating because of their incredible chemistry, remarkable originality, boldness and their defiance to propose daring, unusual, modern and complex performances. They were one, and a mistake was both him and hers. Minjoo, on the other hand, had literally only eight days of experience, and the slightest clumsiness, delay or advance on her part could completely ruin a jump as it had done that day. It wasn't one of her actions that could be beneficial or slow down the progress of her team's game, but the slightest of her movements that could ruin the elite skater's performance or not. Pretty pressuring.

Minjoo was stressed. Pursing her lips nervously, she focused on the video that started with Chi Hyunjung's countdown, then the first notes of Two Weeks.

She genuinely felt like air was missing. The snowflakes floating in her lungs were taking up so much space that it was hard to breathe. A breath caught in the back of , knotting it as her heart missed several beats when Chaewon, after they landed the Triple Axel Throw on the High, did her spin, lifting one leg over her head, catching her skate with so much ease that she looked like a dream. That was the word. Chaewon was a dream, a dream that Minjoo never wanted to wake up from to stay by her side, watch her skate but also smile, laugh, get up after falling, and wipe her tears after crying. To succeed, or not, but to see her doing her passion, most beautifully, with rare beauty and lightness. And damn, they looked so good together.

Their hands found each other without having to look for each other, Chaewon's waist seemed to have been made for Minjoo to hold, the ice shaped so they could slide in divine harmony on it, the music, , it was made for them. It was incredible. Something sent from above, a coincidence leading to something that must have been written in the stars all along. And Chaewon was touching those stars, lifted above the ice by Minjoo, her eyes closed, agreeing to give herself entirely to the hockey player. Because that was also what was so strong, inexplicable and beautiful. Chaewon, in two weeks, put all her trust in the hockey player's arms, entrusting her with everything she had most precious. She gave Minjoo her ankles, her knees, her wrists, her chances of participating in the Olympics and National competitions, her confidence, her whole body, her emotions. Everything that belonged only to a partner; Minjoo had the right to taste. She had earned it, and they had exploited it together. Because here was the proof, beyond the execution of the movements, there was something quite exceptional about seeing them together. 

"Your chemistry quite amazes me," Eunbi summed it up, as simple as that when the clip cut out. Neither of them responded, and she watched them for long seconds, a smile dancing on her lips in genuine affection. "I'll be honest; this is a first. You two were made for each other. You two are made for each other. On ice."

Minjoo was tired. Exhausted, in fact, by this long and emotional week. From the tips of her toes to every blink of her eyes, she could feel the weight of exhaustion. Her leg clenched tightly, her short breath did nothing to help, and a tingling sensation seized her just as she blinked. Her eyes flickered once, then again, feeling the emotion growing in her. Eunbi played the second video, the one she felt was the most satisfying after two weeks of intensive work. The best take, the best attempt at the program that Minjoo would never perform again after learning it so thoroughly. The shot of the last splendid torture. The end of these two weeks of pressure and fatigue, as she would come back to her room so late that Yena was already asleep, of doubts, overcoming herself, of frustrations. Two weeks of falling little by little and in an indescribably unique way for the one she thought was unattainable, but who wasn't after all.

The video showed the lifts, crossovers, jumps, sequences, throws, steps, choreography... everything she had learned in the company of Chaewon, Eunbi and Hyunjung. She saw herself in front of the mirror in the dorm’s shared bathroom practising the hand movements that went with the pivots, then those little attempts at Lutz and Axel jumps during hockey practice when Cocho's back was turned. Oh, then to all those times she'd watched tutorials on jumps, her research on how competitions worked and how she'd listened to Chaewon talk about the scoring system for long minutes. Her eyes tingled, sure, and her chest heaved more and more unevenly, but a smile escaped her when the video showed a choreographed sequence of crossovers that she had performed in sync with Chaewon perfectly well.

Well, Minjoo was particularly sensitive in general. Surprisingly enough for a hockey player, but this time fatigue overcame reason, and she pulled the sleeve of her hoodie over her eyes. It was over. The training, learning a few tricks, the choreography, doing it; over. Showering quietly in the vacant locker room, grabbing a granola bar and a hot chocolate cup, watching videos waiting for Yu Jimin to end her practice, ended. Meeting Chaewon again, not daring to look at her, then talking about anything and everything, sharing their music, teasing each other, flirting a little, sharing futile secrets, something undisclosed, new, over. Holding her hand to the music, then her hip and hurling her in the air to watch her spin and land, it was over, and she was going to miss it a lot.

Minjoo pulled her sleeve more over her eyes, her whole body tensing up to hold it all in, unfortunately, all it took was a light giggle and Chaewon's hand on her leg for her to lose it completely. The worst part was that she herself was laughing in between sobs, hiding her eyes from the two skaters trying to console her, laughing in fondness and helplessness.

"Well then?" Eunbi gently rubbed her shoulder after turning the lights back on. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"I'm just tired," Minjoo managed to express, her chest shaking as she swallowed her tears, almost amused at how she was so moved, overwhelmed by emotion and exhaustion.

"If it's the program that's making you so emotional, it's even better than I thought, isn't it, Chaewon?" And when the latter didn't answer anything but a tiny, muffled sound, the other two turned their heads, laughing again as they saw she had also just wiped a tear. Passionate emotions were undoubtedly an integral part of sports, and the young prodigy had managed to make them ten thousand times more powerful by creating her choreography. "Great, now I have them both crying!"

That made the young girls chuckle as they wiped away their sentimental tears, Chaewon's hand having left Minjoo's leg to use her hoodie's sleeve. And because it was them, and it was like that, as soon as Eunbi left the room to go get the bulgogi delivery, the skater bumped the hockey player's shoulder, blaming her for making her cry, and Minjoo retorted with a fist to her rosy cheek, saying it was her fault.

-

Maybe they didn't hesitate a bit too much on heating. So much that they had opened the windows, and the cold wind of a March night couldn't even get the girls to put back on the hoodies they had taken off. On the other hand, maybe the steaming bulgogi didn't help, and at least the open windows lessened a little of the smell for whoever would enter the room in the morning. Sitting cross-legged, wearing only her grey sweatpants and a loose white T-shirt—probably stolen from her brother since it was underground streetwear she didn't know—, Minjoo was enjoying her plate. Tasting the privileges of the centre's favourites had its advantages. In any case, it wasn't Cocho who would have offered his team bulgogi delivered to the rink after practice. And even if so, it would have ended in carnage. There would have been sauce all over the walls and ceiling.

Chaewon had swapped her sweatpants for sport shorts, taking the opportunity to apply an anti-inflammatory cream to her knees. They were both red from the day, purple from the day before and blue from all previous ones. This sport was definitely as delicate as it was dangerous, but that was the beauty of it. A bit like the one who did it better than anyone else. Oh, because just their fingers brushing against each other to grab chopsticks got Minjoo's heart racing a few minutes ago, and either it was her blood pressure that was the problem, or Kim Chaewon had a power over her more than she thought.

The food had done its job and revived, her brief moment of weakness left far behind, Minjoo sprawled back onto her arms to digest while watching some of the performance videos Eunbi had on hand. It was the programme from last year's Asian Grand Prix Finale Gala. The one that earned them an honourable mention for the dynamism brought during the sequences, mixing with audacity dance and required movements. A bold bet, a successful one as this was the performance that went viral, qualifying them as the future of pair figure skating, revolutionary, almost, for this Gala presentation on Papaoutai had amazed everyone.

And indeed, Minjoo understood why.

Hyunjin, wearing a beige shirt, his short brown hair showing intimidating siren eyes, stood facing Chaewon. She had long, loose hair, waving down to her shoulder blades, dressed in a beige skirt and glittering top. She moved first to the lively music, passing under Hyunjin's legs before they started impressively, executing together several single Loops jumps in a row as if they were floating on the ice, endowed with wings. And unlike the regulation choreography, it was cleae that they were having fun. They were running across the ice with toe picks, dancing with their hands and feet, carefully following the song's pattern, dancing in response to each other, facial expressions transmitting great emotions, pain, longing for something you never possessed, incomprehension. 

Minjoo smiled in profound admiration, her heart overflowing, when, during the chorus, they both dared perform a triple Axel, then a double one, the cameraman filming the adult champions' bewildered faces as they couldn't believe the younger ones' talents. They were known for this, displaying the same level of technical mastery on individual elements as competitive solo skaters, which attracted a lot of interest. And they danced, slid, grabbed hands and performed codified dance sequences before sending the rules flying, running across the ice that belonged to them, with the audience cheering every move. Hyunjin acted as if he was someone Chaewon could never meet, poignant emotions going from her eyes to the way she was going forward while he was backward, extending his hand she would never reach. It looked beautiful, so awfully moving that if Minjoo hadn't emptied all her tears before eating, she would've done so like some people in the audience.

The camera focused on their smiling, breathless faces as they waved to the crowd, zooming in on Chaewon until she turned her back to hug her partner. If Minjoo had fallen first during Bite, she did again, even harder.

Only she had something more this time, Kim Chaewon, the one in the video, slumped between her legs, comfortably seated as if it were her rightful place. Eunbi had only winked at them, and Chaewon had slouched a little more, resting her shampoo-haired head comfortably just above Minjoo's beating chest, casually commenting on the videos, grumbling whenever her seat had the misfortune to move the slightest.

-

"We're going to run into each other a lot anyway," Eunbi smiled as the hockey player grabbed her puffer. "Not tomorrow, right? You're away?"

"Yeah." If Cocho knew Minjoo wasn't sleeping at almost midnight on a game night, and worse, she'd just shared bulgogi with Kwon Eunbi, he'd turn both red and green. She didn't even dare unlock her phone, fearing seeing a dozen texts from Yena—because she would ask if they kissed or something dumb like that. "We're going to Busan."

"Oh, I hope you'll still get a good night of rest," said the coach.

"It’s fine," Minjoo replied before zipping her puffer over her hoodie to avoid catching a cold, switching from the pleasant warmth of the room to the cold outside. Chaewon did the same, pulling on her jogging pants over her shorts, wrapped in her white fleece. "And I'll sleep on the bus."

"Well, that was exceptional anyway!" Eunbi relativized. "Unless it was a revelation and you want to officially switch to figure skating!"

As amusing as it was, Minjoo shook her head sharply, making big eyes. Sure, she was going to miss it. But she was a hockey gem, at the end of the day, and she loved that more than anything else. After all, before Kim Chaewon and all that, hockey was her will to wake up, her first love, and she was almost shaking with excitement at the thought of resuming her precious routine; practice, showering, eating with the team and sleeping. Just keeping miss superstar by her side as a little extra. "No thanks, really. That was enough."

"Anyway, you know how much I thank you, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart," Eunbi smiled once more, looking the hockey player in the eye. "You've amazed us and saved our lives, literally. Thanks again, and if you want to pass by some time, feel free. I talk too much! Good luck with tomorrow! Take us to sem’s and have a good night."

"No problem, it was exhausting but a pleasure," Minjoo returned the nod, holding the door through which Chaewon had exited after quickly waving to her coach. She sincerely beamed, "thanks for everything and the bulgogi, bye!"

And with that, the door closed on the two skaters, leaving the coach alone to put the room back in order and lock the rink, happy to see her champion genuinely happy after all this time. Kwon Eunbi possessed a sharp eye, as she had already demonstrated. She noticed straight away when the girls argued before practice that day because it was the first time they hadn't set a blade on ice without looking like teenagers in love. These things don't lie, and Eunbi could only hope that everything would go well now; the end of one adventure, the beginning of a new one.

-

It was pitch-black, of course. Fortunately, a few white street lamps lit up the concrete path that joined the ice rink to the school's dormitories, lined with tall trees and green grass where the students met when the weather was fine. Only at this late hour, there was clearly no desire to sit down and relax. To tell the truth, they were only dreaming of their bed and the warm sheets waiting for them. But apart from that detail, it was also the first time they were really together outside the rink, and strangely enough, it was a very odd feeling. Almost intimidating since, away from the ice and wearing a pair of Nike shoes, Kim Chaewon was more than just the skater. No, it was three times more intimidating because it was Chaewon, the girl Minjoo had a crush on and who presumably felt the same way. Yeah, it was not a kind of business deal anymore.

Minjoo opened , then closed it again. If she'd known she'd be even more intimidated after the end, she'd have twisted Hyunjin's second knee herself. Back to square one, she thought, barely daring to glance at the one walking silently beside her. So she, too, remained silent, enjoying only the music playing from the only earphone she had. Chaewon had added Ivy to the playlist, and it was their third time replaying it that day. Minjoo particularly loved how they could relate to the lyrics.

The crescent moon also lit up the Haneulae Training Center grounds, with all the dorms' black windows showing how sleepy the school was. There was not a cat outside, not a swimmer leaving their evening classes, not a few rebels wanting to take a walk under the moonlight. Minjoo looked up at the stars for a moment. As if one of them had nudged her, come on, say something! Oh, the fatigue was really wrecking her. Still, the thought of being yelled at by a star had its effect. Without giving it any more thought than she already had, before they reached the dorms, Minjoo held her head high with a semblance of confidence, "so it's over now."

"No ," Chaewon replied as she knew how.

"It's , though, kinda," she resumed, countering the pink-haired girl's sarcasm, used to it by now. "It wasn't so bad spending time with you."

"Imagine when I heard a hockey player would replace Hyunjin," Chaewon raised her eyebrows. "I almost punched a wall and told Eunbi not to approach me because she would be scared."

A chuckle escaped Minjoo, visualising the scene the skater had mocked. It showed she dated guys to know this kind of ridiculous behaviour, and that realisation made her smile smaller. She was more comfortable talking about it, and the itchy question came out, "what about us?"

"Us?" The skater looked up, their eyes meeting a little longer than usual. Apprehension and expectation, assuredly, prevented Minjoo from looking away. Chaewon was the one to break it, running a hand up her collar to retrieve her necklace, pursing her lips before answering in a less clear voice, "I don't know."

"Uhm, I didn't mean us like...us, but like," thankfully it was dark, or the red on Minjoo's cheeks would have been too noticeable. "Since we won't be seeing each other every day like this, you know, what will happen? I mean...."

"Minjoo," Woah, her heart missed a beat at the sound of her name leaving the pink-haired girl's lips, and at the same time, her stomach contracted with nervousness. "Why are you asking me? If you want me, shouldn't you, I don't know, make the moves?"

"No?"

"Ah," Chaewon raised her eyebrows again, surprised, slightly upset by the answer, demonstrating it nonchalantly. "Okay, don't then."

"I mean, if you want it too, why should I be the only one instigating?" The question was as much directed at the skater as it was rhetorical. Minjoo also slowed her pace, feeling the vexation creeping up on her. It was thrilling the first few times, but this was getting slightly too serious. She was trying to be understanding, to not project her state of mind onto Chaewon's, but the unsureness seized her so much that she spoke without thinking about her words, "sorry, I'm not a guy. I won't be chasing after you."

"Who said you need to chase after me?" Chaewon frowned.

"I don't know," Minjoo replied. "It's just-"

"-and why are you bringing a guy here?" The skater had no patience for disagreements either, reciprocated annoyance clear in her eyes.

"Ugh, I hate hockey players and guys so much. They treat me so bad I'm going for girls," Minjoo provoked. Speaking without thinking was more of a flaw than a quirk in those moments. But at least it allowed her to say what was on her mind. It was easy to give the green light, to leave the door open and say, 'go ahead, take a chance' if it meant giving nothing back in return. Minjoo wasn't fooled, and she'd said it very awkwardly by the way Chaewon's face had lost every light, but it was what really troubled her. It was new to her, sure, but was it on the same level? Was it for real, certain? Not just an experiment, something futile? To see what it is like? Wasn't she just one of many, after all?

"You're honestly annoying for assuming things on what you want to hear," Chaewon's icy tone and scathing remark betrayed her state too, and for the time being, Minjoo realised she had been a bit too insensitive in her words. "Me liking girls literally has nothing to do with bad experiences with hockey players and guys in general, but if that's what you think."

"It's not what I think, it's..." for once, the words stuck in Minjoo's throat, all the snowflakes that had accumulated there earlier in the evening beginning to melt. And seeing so much disappointment in Chaewon's eyes made them melt even faster, so fast that the hockey player thought of wanting to preserve them before they disappeared completely. "It's not what I think, Chaewon. I can't help but-like-it's what I... fear. Kinda. Fear is a big word, but… yeah."

Chaewon scoffed, literally, but her gaze somehow softened. The snowflakes started flying around again when she came closer, letting their shoulders bump gently, fingers brushing cold ones but retracting, "that was not a nice thing to hear coming from the girl you're kinda outing yourself for but I get you. Don't worry about that. Worry about being a hockey player, though. Giving you the benefit of the doubt, miss goal leader, you better not play any games."

"I'm really, really not like that," Minjoo defended herself, almost feeling insulted. As much as she knew, she was around them from morning till night and yes, most of her friends were real jerks. Yes, they had a horrible way of talking about girls, comparing and judging them. Yes, the things they would say about the skaters and other girls were terrible. How many times had they made questionable jokes and behaved childishly? Daehyeon was always leading on many girls at once. Jaehyuk only wanted his own pleasure and another was known for constantly cheating on his girlfriend. And the N2 boys, although Minjoo knew them less, must have been much worse. Like Kitae, the N2's left-winger, whose rumour that Chaewon had broken up with him when she found out he was seeing a girl from another school was circulating a few months ago. And on top of that, this idiot had made her look like the easy girl to his team. He got the chance to have her as his girlfriend, but he still treated her like , and that was evidently something Minjoo would never even consider.

Yeah, Minjoo had to admit, some, certainly not all, of the players were jerks you couldn't trust, but wasn't that the case everywhere? Men don't wait to put on skates and play on the ice to be stupid. Minjoo, on the other hand, wasn't like that at all, and the fact that Chaewon could even suppose it was upsetting but equally understandable. She had this prejudice against Chaewon, so of course, Chaewon could have one about her too. The matter was only to prove otherwise.

"Heard that before," the skater smiled again, almost sadly, erasing a little more annoyance to make room for sincerity. She sought Minjoo's gaze, and the latter held it for a few seconds, sensing all the trust Chaewon was putting into her. "You better not be. I'm for real. Play with me once, and it's over."

It didn't need to be repeated twice. Clear, precise and understood. The hockey player—unfortunately— looked for a little more warmth in her puffer's jacket, a small smile coming to her lips because, despite everything, what had to be remembered from this was that for something to be over, it must first begin. Chaewon had said it. She wanted it too, even if she was scared, and Minjoo bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling more, trying to look casual. The skater felt the same way, once again. Minjoo side-glanced at her, "I know, don't worry about that either. But this goes both ways, though. Please don't suddenly realise this isn't for you or something like that."

"I would've never told you if I wasn't sure," the skater rolled her eyes, making a point. "."

"We live in a silly world where playing a silly sport could cost you a future girlfriend." Minjoo mirrored her, rolling her eyes in amusement, feeling her heartbeat echoing against her rib cage, accompanying the snowflakes' waltz. She glanced up at the stars, making sure they had heard and then at Chaewon, so pretty she was. The latter was already looking at her, a surprised smile on her lips that she immediately suppressed, true to her nature. Minjoo grinned, taking out her hand to place her now warmer palm on the skater's cold cheek, pushing her slightly.

"Don't think ahead of yourself," the skater grabbed her fingers and pushed her back, bringing their arms together, not letting go of her hand. "I want to take it slow, though… letting this last for a while, y’know?"

"Give me another two weeks and you're mine?"

And it must have been a response from the stars, a small sign to congratulate her for saying those words because the streetlights went out as it was midnight, so only their light allowed Minjoo to see the way the skater's eyes had given off a sparkle similar to their own. With the shadow of a smile that she promptly hid, lowering her head before straightening it proudly, Chaewon nodded. "Another two weeks and I'm yours, sounds fine."