Eventually, since this had become their little habit, Minjoo accepted the earphone that Chaewon slipped into her ear. As a practical matter, instead of always asking the other to unlock her phone, they'd created a playlist of all the music they'd ever listened to together and the ones they wanted to share. The skater added a dozen or so, and her personality showed through them perfectly. Sometimes, well, most of the time, it's not the words that tell more about a person. For words are only an illusion and reflection of appearance. Through questions and answers, someone is projected onto an already shaped person, and there is nothing really personal about this.

On the other hand, music is a true reflection of the soul. Minjoo didn't need to seek frivolous things to get to know Chaewon, per se, and those evenings of sharing their music and futile thoughts had brought them closer in such a subtle way that it was almost an illusion. The skater always seemed reserved, trapped in her own world, perhaps questioning and doubting herself or visualising programs. It was intimidating, almost, how her gaze was always serious, and yet, when her music came on, a little glimmer of light shone through, and she seemed to come back down to earth. She would hum, close her eyes, and it said so much about her personality that Minjoo wanted to introduce her to more music. Because it was like taking Chaewon on a trip to the mountains. Away from here, from the coaches, the pressure and rules, but with cold snow and ice. It was like taking her by the hand and making her leave the rink to skate on a frozen pond, under an aurora borealis, white flakes and stars as spectators of her talent. To help her escape. To free her from this weight on her shoulders, preventing her from jumping higher and making it hard for her to breathe when she had to get all the feelings out.

"Hey, I was just thinking," Chaewon snapped her back to reality, touching her shoulder to make sure she could be heard over her concentration and the music. "Did you tell anyone I'm... you know?"

"Oh, uh," Minjoo grimaced awkwardly, trying to find some sign of disappointment or something similar in the skater's eyes. She'd forgotten about that detail for the time being, and she completely understood why Chaewon might be uncomfortable. Everyone has their own way of affirming or assuming their uality, and if the skater had taken a while to bring it up, it might have been for a reason. So Minjoo winced a little, apologetic for leaking the secret a little. "Yeah, sorry, my best friend. But she just won't tell anyone, don't worry."

"Okay," unconsciously leaning in, Chaewon maintained a reassuring smile, and instead of disappointment or annoyance, there was only a hint of affection and hesitation in her light brown eyes. Their gazes lost in each other's eyes for a moment, and she backed away, looking almost visibly surprised at her own action. If Minjoo had been better at deciphering body language, she could have joined this with science, physics and psychology to conclude that Chaewon was really attracted to her, but that was out of her hands. She was already doing her chemistry exercises, and that was quite enough. "It's just that it's- It's just... yeah, kind of new to me."

"I get you." Since she comprehended the thing, becoming comfortable with synthesis and other reaction processes, Minjoo moved on to the following exercise, and solving a new equation, she asked casually, wanting to make the skater at ease, "bi?"

"Yep," Chaewon replied assuredly, though after hesitating for a few moments. "Yes. You?"

"Girls only," Minjoo said, not looking up from her notebook, though breaking her wrist to illustrate her point. “Only you.”

Barely louder than a whisper, the skater giggled, "Viderski would go mental."

"Please," the hockey player lifted her eyebrows without shifting her eyes off her notebook. Finally, and against all odds, Minjoo had managed to fully engage in the lesson. While she was at it, she seized the opportunity to create a quick revision sheet for herself, taking out highlighters and a black pencil to write down any tips that might be useful. It was a small way to maintain her grades up while minimising the amount of work, and she bit her tongue, frowning a little as she compressed the last few letters to the edge of the sheet.

At least, this time, being too focused, Minjoo had a good reason not to notice what was going on when she couldn't see. She felt it instead. Because more than a long gaze, an irrepressible smile and flushed cheeks, Chaewon had just tenderly run a hand through her hair. And the best part was that she cringed at her own gesture, burying her head between her legs as Minjoo turned around, a dazzling grin on her face. It was the end of two weeks, but somehow the beginning of something new.

-

After a few minutes, homework done, new words and music exchanged with smiles and long gazes, the eagerness to get on the ice took over. The two young skaters had descended to the bottom bleachers where they could comfortably put on their skates. Although now much more comfortable than in the first training sessions, the white ones were, in addition to being stiff for their quality, relatively old and used. The lacing technique differed radically from hockey skates, and up to that point, Minjoo had been content to make a few turns around the hooks and tighten the whole thing, but apparently, that was a terrible take.

Thus, though Minjoo thought she'd only see this happen in dreams, or maybe with a lot of hope and optimism, Chaewon was kneeling in front of her. The thought made her ears hot, and she locked it in the drawer dedicated to the weird things that popped into her head from time to time. It was rather cute, the way superstar Kim Chaewon had crouched on the black moss floor, fully lacing Minjoo's skates. As might be expected, she mocked it at first, but now she was simply adorable, running the laces between the hooks to have maximum support, making sure not to tighten too much for it to be comfortable.

"No wonder you can't handle your landings well," she grumbled, squeezing hard on the laces before fastening them tightly around the ankle. The red marks on her fingers showed the complexity of the lacing, and Minjoo had to admit the boots held her foot thirty times better now. "It was far too loose."

"And you couldn't tell me that before?" she replied, holding out her other foot for Chaewon to lace it up. The latter rolled her eyes, grinned and pinched Minjoo’s calf muscle.

"I thought you just didn't have any balance," Chaewon scoffed, barely raising her head as she only looked up, still that persistent little smirk on the corner of her rosy lips. Minjoo caught herself staring at her a little too intensely, and suddenly flustered, she turned her head, letting Chaewon loosen all the knots to retie them correctly. You could tell she was used to it, as within two minutes, her own boots were perfectly laced, complete with custom-made mint-coloured skate guards.

Just as they gathered their things, ready to rush out onto the ice, the swinging door opened on the grey-haired senior coach. She had a medal around her neck, as usual, proving things, and was wearing her national jacket so tight her head would have turned purple. The two skaters could have escaped this if Viderski had headed for the club offices, but unfortunately, with a briefcase in hand, she was going to the meeting rooms, so they had no choice but to bow out respectfully. If luck had been on their side, Viderski would have made her way as well, alas. Chaewon barely had time to set a skate on the ice after removing her guard when the coach called out to them.

"Here they come!" Viderski put her hands on her hips in a ridiculously not intimidating way, somehow irritated. Despite her lack of credibility, the two skaters remained static, as if petrified but not out of fear, but rather like hoping the silence and lack of reaction would make the coach leave sooner. Somehow like looking away to make a media load faster, except it didn't always work. "Do you always arrive at the last minute, or do you hide in the locker room, which, I remind you, is not allowed?"

"Our bags are there, and there's still twenty minutes before practice starts. There's nothing to police about," Chaewon defended, retracting her foot to avoid slipping, resting it on the damp moss. Behind her, one hand on the fence, Minjoo held back from chuckling at the sarcasm. After all the times they had avoided Viderski, she'd forgotten that Chaewon dealt with problems head-on and that, while she herself did her best to remain polite, the skater clearly didn't have the patience to endure Viderski's unnecessarily negative remarks.

"Will you ever stop being so impertinent? Is that a proper skater behaviour?" Viderski grumbled, raising her eyebrows, her piercing blue eyes flashing behind her glasses. To her advantage, the coach wasn't that short, and perhaps any first year would have shuddered at this, but Chaewon discreetly sighed, "Kids today don't show respect to those who impart knowledge to them, do they?"

Seeing Chaewon ready to retort something, Minjoo took the lead, considering herself the most rational and least fussy one. Having heard the skater talk back to Chi Hyunjung, an actually frightening woman, she knew that despite her pink hair and doe eyes, an irritated Chaewon could be sharp. To avoid the experience, she prompted the skater to enter the ice with a hand on her waist, answering, "Yes, yes. That's a shame."

"Oh, that is!" Viderski shook her head as if this were a diatribe from her time, the 14th century, and seeing both skaters about to escape her claws, she pointed an accusing finger at Minjoo, whose hand had not left Chaewon's waist. If she hadn't just been ferociously assailed by a Viderski looking for conflict by any means possible, she might have been ecstatic to realise her relationship with Chaewon had changed to the point that touching her like this was natural. "And this! This is a shame! You've been practising the sport of elegance dressed like something a cat dragged in, Kim Minjoo!"

To not add fuel to the fire, Minjoo rushed Chaewon on the ice when she opened to retort, almost giggling as their bodies pressed in a hurry. Survival instinct, probably, as they sped away from the entrance where the wicked witch was shouting something about respect and the importance of neat appearance. Too busy savouring the first moments on the ice and running away from the harpy, the girls did not notice her pulling her glasses down on her nose, observing them skate at full speed, smiling, the wind passing through their clothes —more or less adapted to the practice— with a critical eye. Then she finally moved away towards the meeting rooms, shaking her head slightly, muttering words. Nice words.

The girls loved it so much. They cherished the feeling of freedom that would take over their bodies every time they did crossovers on a turn and the speed hitting their faces as if they were flying through the air. Yet it was nothing like that, only blades sliding on ice hard and fresh, still slightly coated with a liquid layer by the Zamboni's passage. It was a risk to slip at any moment, to fall heavily on a surface much more solid than clouds, but the sensation was the same; to bounce up and skate again. Thinking of this, Minjoo jumped, landing backwards at full speed, mastering the movement perfectly, delighted to see Chaewon's face so lit up as she was trying to keep up with her speed. If music was taking Chaewon on a fantastic trip, skating with her was like waking up from a wonderful dream and remembering every detail. It was as if I Love It had taken her far away, and skating much faster than usual with someone who came to practise in sweatpants and hockey jerseys made her feet land back to earth. Even happier. The thought moved Minjoo. So much that she absentmindedly practically crashed into a barrier if Chaewon hadn't made a sudden move to signal the approaching turn. And Minjoo laughed, half turn jumping, accelerating enough to put some distance between them, nagging the elegant figure skater.

They stopped doing laps after a few minutes, one in hockey stop, the second gracefully slowing down to recover their breath. It was exhausting to have their legs bent all the time and all senses on alert, and despite their incredible level of skill, they had some limits too. Enough doing wise guys rapidly skating around the rink. Pulling off her jersey to keep only the thermal long-sleeved shirt, Minjoo rested her elbow on Chaewon's shoulder, "you're just the perfect size for me to use."

"I'm just perfect," the skater smiled coyly, cocking an eyebrow, her cheeks flushed from the effort and the cold. Minjoo didn't even try to contradict but did, as usual, a soft, gentle, tender punch on that warm cheek before skating to an edge and depositing her Jersey there. Then, joining Minjoo and putting away her white fleece jacket and tightening her ponytail, Chaewon noted, "Viderski right, though. It's already been two weeks."

"So the worst time of your life went by pretty fast, uh?" Returning to the middle of the rink, Minjoo smirked, sliding backwards on one foot.

"Glad it did." Chaewon caught up to her, spinning close enough to diffuse her scent and charm her with a sidelong glance, "and you've been oblivious for two weeks."

"To what?" Minjoo raised an eyebrow but remained without a response other than a chuckle.

As simple as that, as if it were the most casual thing in the world, Chaewon did a Lutz jump, landing on a different curve than the one she had taken off. It was bloody impressive. Seeing it closely, Minjoo almost forgot that figure skating was so magnificent. With good timing and upper body force, they could launch into the air and spin on themselves at incredible speed. The best part was how easily Chaewon landed before performing a sit spin and its variations.

Driven by an unknown force, Minjoo thought it looked so easy that she could pull it off, but she ended up on her after a half turn. If that made the triple Axel prodigy laugh, the hockey player needed to get her ego full again as she dashed around the rink, completing a full turn in a few seconds. Well... her ego took another hit when the back of her blade, longer than her hockey skates, caught with the other during a crossover. Fortunately, she held herself up before falling face-first on the ice, glaring at the hilarious skater.

-

Eunbi and Chi Hyunjung arrived simultaneously, touchpad in hand, obviously immersed in a conversation of great importance since the skaters continued playing like children on the ice for a few more minutes. During this time, despite being used to violent back hits and surprise attacks, Minjoo was startled when, following a wrong move, the music blasted in the rink, earning a mocking laugh. Only, after a few more attempts at jumping and trying to teach Chaewon to do bigger hockey stops, the coaches entered the ice, marking the beginning of the last practice together.

"Good evening," Chi Hyunjung nodded solemnly, her hands staying warm in her fleece's pockets as her gaze scanned the taller, then the slightly shorter girl, both politely bowing. "Last session together, Kim Minjoo, since maybe Chaewon already notified you, but Hyunjin will be able to continue with us starting tomorrow."

Minjoo only nodded, trying not to think about it too much, it would make her...sad otherwise, and negative emotions had no place in figure skating practice, as she experienced. Still, she timidly smiled when Chaewon bumped their shoulders.

"Chaewon? Feeling relieved?" Eunbi seemed less stern as she gave a thumbs up to her student, who nodded vigorously. This pleased the hockey player. In truth, she knew it was the best thing. She knew, and Chaewon had told her, Hyunjin had been her best friend since their first training sessions. Since forever, in fact. Their mothers skated in the same club, and as far back as Chaewon could remember, they even learned how to skate together, pairing up for their first competition and never letting it go. They knew each other so well that skating without him seemed impossible, even if she really tried.

Admittedly, it wasn't the most pleasant thing to hear, but Minjoo was understanding, and she had even realised it herself. Successful figure skaters duos are those who know how to be one and move, breathe, live in harmony. Even if it meant stopping seeing her every night, having an excuse to talk to her and this sort of secret …friendship, it was for the best. And it showed on Chaewon’s face, the way her cheeks, despite her lowered head, betrayed a heartfelt smile. However, she was still playing with her necklace.

Eunbi turned her attention to the hockey player, "If you don't mind, stay with us for the little recap at the end of the session? I ordered Bulgogi so we could eat together."

"Oh," Minjoo tilted her head, eyes almost glowing at the thought. She shifted her gaze to the coach waiting for her answer, grinning, then to Chaewon. "Is that why you asked me for my favourite food?"

"Thanks to the coach," the skater casually shrugged, offering all the credit to the dark-haired woman who chuckled.

"Your partner's initiative," she replied, throwing a wink at Chaewon that went unnoticed even though the latter slightly widened her eyes. Since Minjoo didn't seem to catch their exchange—she was really thinking about Bulgogi this time and how much she would enjoy it after weeks of not tasting it—Eunbi regained her seriousness, holding up the pad. "Well. The last session was good overall since we achieved the most important goal; getting the entire choreography done. I don't think working out the details and mechanics of the jumps will do much since you'll go over everything with Hyunjin tomorrow. We suggest rehearsing the whole choreography to work on reflex memory."

"Indeed," Hyunjung continued. "I have finished studying and modifying all the separate parts. Again, excellent work, Chaewon. The best thing to do today is for you to perfectly assimilate the movements, music and sequences to make it easier for Hyunjin to catch up."

"Minjoo? The muscle memory sessions are a bit of torture, but you will do just fine," Eunbi warned with a smile. "That means we'll repeat the choreography until it becomes almost automatic. You'll probably wake up in the middle of the night with your legs moving to it."

"Woah... it's always a pleasure working with you," the hockey player grumbled jokingly, lifting her eyebrows, drawing smiles from two of the skaters, and a small chuckle from the oldest. Oh, they'd come a long way. Who would have thought, a fortnight ago, that Chi Hyunjung could almost smile at her joke? Without even making a single remark about her outfit or the fact that she didn't know how to double lutz after three days of figure skating? "Wonderful memories I'm making."

And it was true. One of Minjoo's fondest memories, despite the frustration, the falls, the pressure, the fatigue, the difficulty and the trouble of not losing her mind. Because of all that and the one who was already staring at her, playing with her necklace, ready to start, it would definitely be something Minjoo would remember forever. Maybe she was dense, but she sensed it, to speak the truth. Those two weeks assuredly marked the beginning of a new chapter of her life, based on failed Axel throws and burning cold hands around a figure skater's slim waist. 

-

Kwon Eunbi definitely didn't lie when she called the muscle memory training torture. Sure, it didn't exactly hurt physically, yet. However, it had merely been half an hour and Minjoo could already feel herself going crazy. Just after the music ended, she took her place on Chaewon's back, whose breathing was becoming shakier with fatigue. Crazy because it was already the fifth time they were doing the crossovers, the lifts, the controlled throws, the pivots and other movements that only the skater could do. Crazy because with each new time, Minjoo could feel the movements coming like automatisms, and with a few more days, she could have known the choreography by heart. Besides, going crazy since every time her hand found Chaewon, her waist, her wrist, her eyes, the palm of her hand, a new butterfly flew into her chest. Minjoo was even losing her mind completely when, despite her concentration and the intensity she put into every move and repetition, Chaewon took the time to offer her a genuine flashing smile.

You say you're lonely. I say you'll think about it.

Because it had only just been two weeks, but the emotion increased tenfold in these intense situations. It wasn't just skating; it was the fulfilment of a personal project for Chaewon, putting one of her creations into practice for the first time. Because just before the realisation of her dream, her other half had been injured, putting her in a distressing position that only resolved when Minjoo passed by them. Since skating is the sport of passion, of surpassing oneself, the art of searching for what lies deep inside. It was intense because Kim Chaewon constantly had that tired look in her eyes and that need to feel supported, carried, secured. High-level skaters see their lives revolve around the sport, repressing, swallowing some of their emotions to powerfully convey them during performances, shutting themselves in a bubble before each practice, several times a day and several times a week. Chaewon didn't say it, but she felt lonely. If not having Hyunjin for a fortnight was so hard, it was because she was terribly afraid to be alone, to carry the weight of the pressure by herself, to stay on the ground, unable to travel through music and spin in the air.

Hence during the first lift, Minjoo tightened her grip around the skater's waist, showing she was sincerely there for her. With her. Chaewon landed and beamed as they went into crossovers, their gazes locking together before the pivot that announced the throw.

That chase, mouth open like high.

On the high, the hockey player threw the skater into the air, the latter revolving three times, landing perfectly well forward on the ice, then going straight into a few seconds long spin. Minjoo lost all sense of reality. Dreaming of you as my lover. She felt it deep in her heart, vibrating in her rib cage as time seemed to slow down. Like something chemical reactions couldn't explain, her heartbeat was so loud it deafened her. Chaewon spinning on herself, so fast, so divinely well.

And the song continued, as did the program, becoming calmer, more into choreography sequences and crossovers. The hockey player encircled the skater's hip as they went into a straight line before performing several steps, trying to incorporate as many elements as possible. Everything was getting even more pleasurable, less restraint, more letting go of emotions as they went back to face to face, preparing for the second Axel Throw that had caused so much trouble. Minjoo slowed down enough to make sure Chaewon could get ahead. Their eyes locked into each other as if everything had disappeared.

You say you want me, I say you'll live without it. The choreography desired it, but it was sincere when Chaewon's gaze became almost pleading, her hand coming to rest on Minjoo's shoulder. Begging for the message to be conveyed on another level. Unless you're the only one who instigates. And if Minjoo had found it so hard to understand up to that point, oblivious for two weeks as Chaewon had whispered, she indeed thought the music was a nice coincidence. Could that make her realise maybe Chaewon had been waiting for her to make the first move all this time? Her mind couldn't process it now but would definitely in the next few days.

The hockey player squeezed the figure skater's waist, Get your mouth open, you're high, and sent her into the air. Chaewon spun around before landing and following up with an upright to a sit spin, smiling. 

Higher than a motherer, dreaming of you as my lover.

You know you're mine. Minjoo had never felt this way before. I'll put you first, just close your eyes and dream about it. No, she didn't think she was capable of feeling something this strong for someone, let alone in such a short time. To her, it wasn't real, the phrases she'd seen over and over in books; heart and thoughts racing, the world spinning far too fast around this person while it seems like every move they make stops time. The bridge intensified as well as the beauty of the skater's gestures, her eyes closed, her lips in a radiant smile. I'll quench your thirst, just chase the high and stop your doubting. She grabbed her hand again, and Chaewon crouched on one leg, letting the second one go just above the ice, her fingertips brushing the white surface as she let herself be guided. Flying like a streamer.

High.

Because Chaewon was much more than a talented, cold, pretty girl who loved sensing eyes on her by fainting being limitless, all that was just a façade. In reality, she was skating along with the perpetual fear of failing, of not being enough. All the self-confidence she reflected was the real illusion, while deep down, her own doubts sometimes prevented her from succeeding in her jumps as if the fear that they would not be perfect was restraining her down more than the fear of falling. As if the most painful thing was not the ice and crashing violently onto it. Because she had only cried once when she recognized she couldn't do it, not because the fall had been severe. Because Kim Chaewon really needed someone who could look her in the eye and assure her that anything was possible. Dreaming of you as my lover. Hence Minjoo nodded firmly, promising her that it was possible, between them and here, on the ice, putting one hand around her waist, the other on her hip. Just chase the high and stop your doubting. And Chaewon landed the fourth rotation of the last Axel throw. 

Before the program ended, they performed the last lift, the one they had taken so long to properly execute but was easy now. Together, in harmony.

The song said it all along, Give me two weeks, you won't recognize her, and at first, Minjoo thought that too. She hoped Chaewon would give her two weeks to make her not recognize Hyunjin or whoever had a special place in her heart, but in reality, it wasn't about that. No, it was much more. Much better, and she had succeeded. In a fortnight, she had transformed Chaewon. In just two weeks, Minjoo had taught her to skate with a smile on her face again, to rediscover the pleasure of spinning over the ice, of falling and getting up again, of experiencing the passion from every spin to every tumble. And that was the best help she could give, really.

The music ended, and with a hand on the skater's chest in a final pose, Minjoo felt the latter's heart pound like crazy, her breath short and fast. Chaewon smiled, intertwining their fingers while skating back to the starting point, ready to begin again with the same intensity. Just chasing the high, stopping her doubtings, letting out her feelings.

-

It was beneficial, unequivocally, very intense, intimate, but above all, way too exhausting for the young girl who once again collapsed on the ice. Only, unlike during hockey practice; she had no protection, and after a few seconds, the ice's wetness forced her to sit up, her hands lightly covered in thinner gloves. She could feel the liquid growing into their synthetic material, but her head was spinning too much to do anything about it. Eunbi had not lied again, and after thirty repetitions or so, the pain in her legs and arms was so hard that Minjoo was afraid they would start moving on their own to repeat the choreography. All strength had escaped her body, and the only comfort that helped her get off the rink was the idea of going to the gym room to warm up and have bulgogi. 

Barely able to stand due to the countless falls and repetitions, Chaewon rushed to the changing room with antiseptic to disinfect her wounds and relax her muscles. Like a true warrior, and far from the last time, she had neither cried nor given up, consistently giving her best. Even though the quadruple rotation had only landed a few times out of dozens, which was already a miracle according to Eunbi and Hyunjung, she did it recklessly. Like she didn't care about falling if she reached high enough and spun rapidly enough.

Moreover, before leaving the rink, the uncompromising coach had addressed some thanks to Minjoo. Thanked her for coming, for being involved and committed, for putting up with the rigorous training, her demands, and a big thank you for helping Chaewon. Helped in every sense of the word, the way Chi Hyunjung's gaze had softened, almost accompanied by a smile. It meant nothing, and at the same time, it meant everything too. Again, the hockey player had never imagined herself embarking on something so little but at the same time extremely meaningful when she had accepted the request, a little out of it, caught off guard and in a hurry to get home. If she had to do it again, it would be without hesitation, but all good things must come to an end, and that wasn't a bad thing either. Those white skates really didn't suit her anyway, and she hurried to the hockey locker room to take them off once and for all, saying goodbye to them and good luck to the next person who would put them on.