After school, the locker room buzzed with the usual clatter—boots thudding, jackets zipping, and friendly chatter bouncing off the walls.
"Well, well, look who finally showed up," Daichi teased, skis slung casually over his shoulder. "Hope you remember how to stand upright."
Keiji laughed, shaking his head. "Relax, Daichi. It's Takeshi's first day on the snow. Cut him some slack."
Daichi smirked. "Someone's got to lead. Might as well be me. You know I'm the best right, Keiji."
Takeshi shot a quiet glance but said nothing. He recognised this Keiji guy from Daichi's posse that followed him around all the time.
Riku leaned against a locker nearby, his grin easy and warm. "First time on the indoor slopes? Don't worry, we've all been there."
Ren tightened his boots calmly. "Take it slow. No need to prove anything right away."
Riku chuckled. "Yeah, but if you pull off something cool, we'll definitely cheer you on."
Ren gave a rare smile. "And if you wipe out, we've got your back."
Just then, a tall, lean figure approached. Platinum hair gleamed under the locker room lights. He carried his skis effortlessly, moving with a quiet confidence that drew attention without trying.
"The Name's Sasha," he said, voice smooth but neutral, eyes briefly meeting Takeshi's. "I'm from Russia, I do Alpine. GS and slalom."
Takeshi regarded him coolly but nodded in acknowledgment.
Sasha gave a small, polite smile. "Don't mind the noise. Everyone here has their own way of hyping each other up."
Daichi grunted but stayed silent.
Sasha's gaze softened slightly. "If you want any tips or someone to run with, just say the word. No pressure."
Takeshi's jaw tightened briefly, but he only nodded again.
The locker room's usual hum settled into a quieter camaraderie—a mix of encouragement, challenge, and unspoken respect—making the slopes ahead feel a little less daunting.
The coaches had carefully organized the students by their disciplines, then broken them into smaller groups, each guided by a dedicated coach. Alpine skiers had access to both a compact training slope and a larger, more demanding run. Figure skaters, ice hockey players, and speed skaters each practiced on their own meticulously maintained rinks. Freestyle skiers and snowboarders took advantage of several park runs designed for tricks and jumps. Though ski jumping was a smaller group, they were well-equipped with both a small hill and a large hill. Nearby, specialized facilities housed bobsleigh, skeleton, and luge training, while expansive flat trails served cross-country skiers. Nordic athletes split their time between cross-country courses and ski jumping hills, depending on the day. Dedicated ice strips were reserved for the curling pairs.
Takeshi found himself placed with the alpine group alongside Daichi, Keiji, then a boy named Minoru, and three international students: Sasha, who Takeshi had just met previously, Mei, and Yun-ji. All four lived on campus in the dorms and had become close friends, often training and hanging out together.
As they gathered around before the run, Sasha broke the ice with a cool, easy smile. "So, Takeshi, what do you get up to when you're not on skis? Anything fun?"
Takeshi shrugged, keeping his voice even. "Mostly reading, or just staying quiet listening to music."
Minoru grinned. "I like fishing. Hokkaido's great for it in the summer. It's peaceful, like skiing but slower."
Yun-ji chuckled. "I watch a lot of dramas and play games in the dorm. Helps me relax after training."
Mei nodded. "Cooking's my thing. Even if it's just instant noodles or something simple, it reminds me of home."
Takeshi asked curiously. " So you all live on campus together, there's so many people it must be like hell"
Sasha earnestly replied, "Living on campus is pretty wild sometimes. You get used to the noise and the mess, but there's a real sense of community."
Minoru added, "Yeah, especially when we all cook together or study late. It's like a family, even if we drive each other crazy."
Yun-ji smirked. "And the pranks. Don't trust anyone's shampoo bottle."
Takeshi let a brief smile slip through his usual cold exterior. "Sounds… better than I thought."
Sasha nodded, giving him a thumbs-up. "You'll experience it soon enough out in Nagano, everyone has to live on campus there. We'll show you the ropes. Dorm life's tough, but it's where you make your best memories."
Takeshi met their eyes and, for the first time that day, felt a thread of something warmer weaving through the cold air around him.
They gathered near the summit of their slope, receiving coaching tips.
Coach Igarashi paused beside Takeshi, offering a quiet word of encouragement.
"Just ease in," she said gently. "No one's judging today."
Takeshi's eyes drifted toward the freestyle park, where Riku was tearing up the half pipe with fierce energy. Riku launched off the lip, spinning into a flawless 1080—three full rotations in the air, smooth and controlled. The crowd of skiers watching let out a low whistle.
Landing perfectly, Riku caught sight of Takeshi standing nearby. A cocky grin spread across his face. "You watching, Morin?" he called out, brushing snow from his jacket.
Feeling the heat of being watched, Riku decided to push it further. He crouched low, gained speed on the pipe's curve, and launched into a complex trick—an alley-oop cork 1260. The rotations twisted his body like a coil of spring, and for a heartbeat, it looked flawless.
But then, halfway down , his skis clipped the icy wall at a bad angle.
Time slowed as Riku's balance faltered. His skis flipped, and he came crashing down hard, tumbling and spraying snow like a burst of white fireworks.
For a moment, silence fell.
Then Riku pushed himself up, laughing breathlessly, snow dusting his hair. He looked over at Takeshi and gave a sheepish thumbs-up. "Still got it, yeah?"
Takeshi's lips twitched—half impressed, half concerned.
Nearby, Ren was practicing his ski jumps on the smaller training hill, bending low in a focused stance before launching with graceful power. His form was fluid, his body arching perfectly in midair, landing with barely a sound. He glanced toward the half pipe and shook his head with a small smile, muttering, "Show-offs."
On the rink located right at the botton of the huge dome far away from the ski slopes and freestyle parks, Takeshi caught glimpses of Ayumi gliding through her figure skating routine, precise and elegant. Her movements flowed seamlessly from jumps to spins, each landing crisp. She paused, catching a glimpse of Riku's tumble through the rink's frosted glass. A soft sigh escaped her lips, then she refocused on the music, pushing herself to perfect her next jump.
Hana, farther along the slope style course, was threading through rails and boxes with fluid confidence. She landed a clean backside 540 onto a flat box, then rolled smoothly into a switch front side 360. Spotting Takeshi's watchful gaze, she flashed a quick smile, flicked her hair back, and waved as if to say "Not bad for my first day back, huh?"
Takeshi's eyes flickered back to the alpine slope just as Coach Igarashi's voice cut through the crisp air.
"Alright, everyone, settle in. Focus on your form and timing. We're going to start with controlled runs before pushing harder."
The group nodded, tightening grips on poles and adjusting goggles. He caught a quick glance of Keiji carving hard, a grin plastered on his face. Sasha followed, a blur of efficiency. Mei was cautious but confident. Yun-ji's form was aggressive and fast. Daichi made a show of it, flaring snow at the bottom with an exaggerated stop and throwing a look-up toward Takeshi.
Then it was Takeshi's turn.
He stood at the gate. His skis were tight against the start mat. His poles were planted. But his legs—
They wouldn't move.
Coach called out. "Ready, Morin?"
His heartbeat was louder than the music pumping from the slope speakers. He blinked. The slope stretched down like a cliff.
But it wasn't a crash of his own he saw. It was hers—his mothers—flying down a training run, snow spraying in waves, and then the sudden, brutal silence. The call that came after. The way the house had never sounded the same again.
He took a breath. Tried to shift forward. But his knees locked. A hollowness opened inside him, echoing with things he hadn't said. The others waited below, unaware of the ghost standing beside him.
Then he stepped back. Took off his skis. Shouldered them.
Walked down.
At the bottom, laughter scattered across the snow.
Daichi's voice cut sharp and cruel: "Morin, you sure you brought the right equipment? Or did you forget your spine along with your talent?"
The jab landed like a slap. Sasha's expression darkened. Yun-ji muttered something under her breath in Korean, barely audible but clearly displeased. Mei looked from Daichi to Takeshi, then back again, her mouth pressed into a flat line.
Coach Igarashi's voice cracked through the tension. "Daichi, shut it. You're not half the skier you think you are. One more word like that, and you're off the hill."
But Takeshi didn't respond. It was as if he'd gone somewhere else, locked inside himself. His breathing was shallow, his grip tight on his poles. Sasha stepped toward him slightly, as if to say something, but stopped short. Yun-ji looked like she might speak too but hesitated.
"Morin?" Coach Igarashi said again, softer now.
Still nothing. Takeshi's eyes were open, but unfocused. Finally, he turned and began walking, the drag of his skis behind him echoing like chains. The others watched in silence, unsure whether to follow, speak, or let him be.
Only Daichi snorted under his breath. "I've heard the rumours that his mother was Emiko Takahashi. Guess his mummy forgot to teach him how to ski before she wiped out."
That broke the silence.
Sasha spun on Daichi, eyes blazing. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Back off," Yunji snapped. "You think you're tough, picking at someone's grief?"
"Shut up" Daichi muttered, retreating, but the damage was done.
Coach Igarashi's jaw was clenched. "Daichi, my office. Now."
But Takeshi was already gone, each step heavier than the last. The slope behind him blurred, the laughter and shouts of the others muffled beneath the roar of memory and grief.
Kaori found him near the base lodge, sitting on a bench, helmet in his lap. His shoulders were hunched forward, hands gripping the plastic edge like it might anchor him to the world.
She didn't say anything at first. Just sat next to him, close, but not too close.
"I couldn't do it," he said, voice raw. "I was right there. But I just… couldn't."
She nodded, her gaze soft. "That happens."
"I thought I was past this," he muttered. "I thought if I just stood at the gate again, it would all come back. But instead, it felt like—like she was right there. And then gone."
Kaori didn't rush to fill the silence. She let it sit. "You showed up. That's not nothing. I remember—they said you vanished after the funeral. Didn't set foot near a slope after you moved in with your grandmother, mine, and your mother's mum. Some thought you'd quit for good. But here you are, trying to reclaim your life."
He stared at the slope through the open doors of the lodge, now quiet under the dome's lights. A few students were still gathering their things. Laughter trickled through the cold air, far away.
"I hate that it still hurts this much," he said quietly.
"It means it mattered. She mattered. And it's okay to carry that with you."
They sat in silence for a moment longer, the kind of silence that wasn't empty, but shared.
Kaori stood and went to the vending machine. When she returned, she handed him a can of hot milk tea. "Come in tomorrow. I'm not going to force you to, as your aunt. But as your headmistress, I have to say it—let's talk. You're not alone in this."
He nodded, finally looking up. His eyes were glassy, but his expression held the faintest flicker of something steadier than before. Not peace, not yet—but something like the start of it.