The transition into figure skating from ballet flowed as smoothly as Myoui Mina thought it would. Ever the perfectionist when it came to her passions. Figure skating, although a new and sudden fixation of hers, has steadily grown to become the art form she preferred. Gliding through an ice rink— the feeling was unparalleled. 

And she was good enough to catch the attention of a renowned coach, known to spot new talent, who convinced her to aim for Junior Worlds. Being eighteen with an implanted dream, she was set on achieving this gold medal goal and making her coach and whoever else proud. Maybe even herself, but it was difficult for Mina to ever feel proud or impressed by her own accomplishments. 

She remembers the day she first met Minatozaki Sana. Mina had heard of Sana, already having watched many performances of the other girl when she was still toying with the idea of becoming an ice skater herself. She was arguably the best junior skater in all of Japan, taught by Mina’s coach before she was shipped off to a strict, more fierce olympic coach.

But Sana, ever so loyal, would come visit her old and favorite coach at their local ice rink whenever she found the time. Which seemed to be every other weekend. They would slide onto the rink and work on their routines alone, until one day, Sana offered to help her practice. 

That’s how they got to become the best of friends. 

Mina never saw Sana as her rival in the rink, even if the world of competition made it seem so. All she saw was her friend, her best friend, doing her ultimate best at what she loves, just like she was doing. It didn’t matter who ranked what (as long as they did rank somewhere). 

She was hellbent on making sure the competition never soured their friendship, but how could they hold off the voices forever? How could Mina feel happy when Sana gets another gold medal while she gets bronze time and time again? How could she be proud of her friend when that’s the medal she wanted for herself?

Mina knew how to keep her emotions in check, something she started early on even as a child. Ballet was how she let herself express whatever she kept bottled up within. 

She knew it was unfair, Sana had a lot more experience under her belt and is the better figure skater, but Mina couldn’t ignore the pang she felt in her chest when she watched the scoreboards. The scores practically screamed in her face that she wasn’t good enough. 

Channeling her envy, she spent longer hours practicing and was ruthless with perfecting her routines. She saw Sana less and less because of busy schedules and deep down, Mina hoped it would stay that way.  

~

Mina lands on her couch and immediately curls into a ball. She felt a presence join her shortly after. “Give me your feet.”

“They’re gross and stinky.”

“So? Mine are gross and stinky, too. Especially after the day we had at practice.” 

Im Nayeon, a fellow figure skater for South Korea’s team. Mina believe they crossed paths at a perfect time. She was down a friend and yearned to fill the empty space in her heart. Nayeon came into her life and did that, although a little too well.

Mina peeked over her shoulder, being met with an impatient eye roll. “Do you want this free foot massage or not?“

Nayeon was different than Sana. She was sassier, blunt, hard around the edges whereas Sana was the opposite. But Mina liked both, enjoyed both types of personalities. 

If Mina squinted a bit harder, she would have noticed Nayeon’s glaringly obvious soft spot for her. Free foot massages from the Im Nayeon? Alert the presses!

She quickly offered her feet, knowing this was a rare opportunity, and instantly felt Nayeon’s magic hands go to town. The tingling pain she felt after a particularly long day evaporated. Like it always does after her massages. 

Practicing for the Olympics was unlike anything Mina has gone through this far. The rigorous training, on and off the rink was enough to stress her entire body, mind, and soul. Thankfully she had somebody by her side, suffering through it all with her. 

Making the decision to move to Korea was easy, leaving her coach (and Sana) was not. 

If it felt like a betrayal, Sana never mentions it. Even messages her every now and then, asking about life updates. They were due to see each other soon at the Olympics, after two years of not seeing each other in person. 

“Got a lot on your mind? You’re extra quiet tonight.” Mina realizes then that Nayeon’s hands have moved up to her legs, squeezing them gently like she was wringing out the knots in them. It felt too good to stop her.

“Yes.” How could she simultaneously dread the Olympics yet be over the moon about it? “We have a lot to do next week.” 

Nayeon snorts. “There is a thing called rest, you know.” She pulls Mina up into a sitting position with her legs still on Nayeon’s lap, but they pointedly ignore this fact. Nayeon’s eyes soften, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Mina’s ear, voice coming out in a whisper. “You should try it.” 

~

Getting gold in the Olympics should’ve been a dream come true, so why did Mina feel empty?

She stood on the podium with a smile, trying her hardest not to glance to her left at Minatozaki Sana wearing her silver medal, clapping happily for her with tears in her eyes. “You did it!” Sana’s voice was drowned out by the endless cheers and screams of the dedicated crowd. 

Mina felt like she was underwater. 

Her gaze threatened to waver, but she spots Nayeon jumping up and down in excitement right outside of the rink. She was waiting for her. 

First she turns to congratulate bronze medalist Hirai Momo on a job well done, then braces herself to confront Sana, but the space is empty. Nothing but flowers set carefully on the edge of the podium. 

Mina’s favorite.