The locker room had emptied long ago, its echoes silenced by the weight of Takeshi's thoughts. He sat outside on the stone bench near the gates, his helmet loose in his lap, fingers numb from more than the cold. The night wrapped around him, quiet but not still. Street lamps cast their golden haze onto the snow-dusted pavement, and the wind tugged gently at the edge of his jacket. He felt hollowed out, like the slope had taken something from him.
Daichi's mocking words still rang in his ears, as unwelcome as the sting of cold air in the lungs. "You really think you belong here?"
A shadow crossed his vision.
"Where do you think you're escaping to? You're not getting off that easy!"
Riku's voice was light but carried purpose. He strolled into view with that crooked grin, Takeshi was already beginning to associate with trouble. Hana followed close behind, her scarf slightly crooked, a small paper bag in her hands.
"Melon pan," she said, offering it like a peace treaty. "It solves everything."
Ayumi came next, her steps quiet. She didn't say anything at first, but her gaze met Takeshi's with such open understanding that he felt a sharp ache in his chest. There was no pity in her eyes, only presence.
Then Ren. Tall, composed, always slightly apart from the noise, but never distant. He walked up without a word and placed a hand gently on Takeshi's shoulder.
"You don't have to face this alone," he said.
The simplicity of it nearly undid him.
Takeshi swallowed and glanced around. Four pairs of eyes, each holding a different kind of warmth. He wasn't sure what to say, but his body answered for him. He stood.
They walked under the soft hush of the city, each step a little lighter than the last. Training, tension, and school pressure dissolved into something simpler: footfalls, shared breaths in the cold air, and the occasional crunch of snow underfoot.
Riku spoke first, because of course he did.
"You know, I once face-planted during a run and slid so far downhill I passed the next group starting their drill. Just waved as I went by. Classy."
Hana snorted. "That, was you? I thought that story was a myth!"
"Nope. Real. Still have the dent in my helmet."
Takeshi smiled faintly.
"You learn more from falling than landing clean every time," Riku added, his tone turning a shade more serious.
"I try to balance chaos and control," Hana chimed in, walking on the curb like a balance beam. "Sometimes it's more chaos, though."
Ayumi spoke softly. "Sometimes the most important thing is staying present. Not letting the fear of what might happen cloud where you are."
Ren nodded. "Steady progress. Focus. It doesn't matter how fast. Just that you keep going."
Takeshi inhaled slowly. Then he spoke, voice quiet. "I keep thinking that if I slip… it'll all fall apart. That everything I left behind will catch up to me. Like my mother's accident—one wrong move and it was over. Sometimes I can still hear the silence after the fall came, like it's stitched into my bones. I'm scared I'll follow her without meaning to. That I'll fall, and no one will see me disappear until it's too late."
No one answered right away. They didn't need to. The silence wrapped around him like a blanket — not empty, but holding, giving his grief room to breathe.
They had just crossed the street when Riku's eyes lit up.
"Sprint race! Last one to the corner store buys the drinks!"
Takeshi looked up, alarmed. "Wait, what?"
"Three! Two! One—"
Riku took off like a shot.
Hana shrieked with laughter and shoved Takeshi lightly. "Move it!"
Takeshi stumbled forward, caught in the moment, and suddenly he was running. His shoes slapped clumsily against the pavement, each stride a little off, but he was running.
Halfway down the block, Riku spun and pretended to trip, sprawling dramatically into Takeshi's path. Takeshi skidded sideways, narrowly avoiding collision, and they both collapsed into a heap, breathless and Riku laughing.
"You call that a sprint? My grandma's faster!" Hana called out, reaching them in a jog.
Ren and Ayumi arrived last, walking side by side.
"Children," Ayumi murmured, barely suppressing a smile.
Ren just shook his head, quietly amused.
They kept moving. The convenience store lights glowed in the distance, but the road was theirs.
Without warning, Hana crouched low. "Check this out," she said, miming a snowboard jump. She slid across the pavement like it was a rail, arms out, body twisting in a practiced rhythm.
"Oh, it's on," Riku said, immediately dropping into a ski crouch and launching an invisible 720. He added a wild flourish, landing with arms raised in mock triumph.
"Your turn, Takeshi!" Hana shouted. "Show us that World Cup finesse!"
Takeshi glanced at them, eyebrows raised. But something in the energy, the absurdity of it all, loosened the tightness in his chest. He shrugged and attempted a hop that was neither high nor graceful.
Riku collapsed in exaggerated agony. "He did it! He cracked the code of antigravity!"
Hana narrated like a sports commentator. "And here it is, folks: the legendary 'Almost Jump.' Ten out of ten for effort, minus ten for height!"
Takeshi rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. "Come on, I race," he called out. "Who said I'd be any good at tricks—and on pavement, no less?" But despite himself, a laugh escaped — reluctant, genuine, and warm. It was small, but it was real.
Ayumi and Ren watched from behind, exchanging amused glances, their quiet presence grounding the group.
Outside the convenience store, Riku dared Takeshi to balance on the narrow metal rail that bordered the parking area.
"Loser buys the round of hot drinks!"
"You already said that, before the race," Takeshi replied, eyeing the rail sceptically.
Riku grinned. "Yeah, but no one won that, did they? Besides, I'm being nice. If we were counting by the last event, you'd already be shelling out for five drinks."
Takeshi rolled his eyes but stepped up anyway. He teetered, arms out like wings, wobbling — but held the pose.
"Seven seconds!" Ren called softly, hands tucked in his coat pockets, voice as calm as ever.
"He lives!" Hana whooped, throwing her arms up like a scoreboard girl at a championship match. "And here I thought he was gonna face plant straight into the pavement!"
"Alright, alright," Takeshi groaned, hopping off the rail.
Riku smirked, cracking open the store door.
Takeshi laughed, resigned. "Fine. One round on me."
They finally entered the store, laughter still echoing. The warmth inside fogged their glasses and flushed their cheeks. They grabbed cans of hot cocoa, rice balls, and warm steamed buns, settling into a pocket of peace.
Ayumi stood near the window, sipping quietly, watching the night go by.
"It was a good walk," she said.
"Needed," Ren added.
The walk back was slower. The streetlights glowed gold across their path. Takeshi walked near the middle, Hana skipping ahead with Riku trying to balance two drinks on his head. Ren stayed beside him, a calm, silent guide.
Ayumi trailed a little behind, humming something soft.
Takeshi glanced at the group, then at the sky.
He didn't say much.
He didn't need to.
Tomorrow might bring pain again. But tonight, beneath the still sky and laughter-filled air, something in him had thawed.
He wasn't alone.
Not any more.