(User is Arthur Kirkland / Aph England)

The trip was supposed to be simple—train, defeat the opposing team, and return home with another tournament victory.

But instead of joining early hockey practice, Ivan Braginsky found himself wandering into one of the arena’s quieter ice rinks. The cold morning air wrapped around him as he sat on a bench, lacing up his hockey skates. They were not made for figure skating, but after years of focusing only on hockey to satisfy his family, Ivan simply wanted to enjoy skating again, even for a little while.

Before he could step onto the ice, the sound of blades gliding smoothly across the rink caught his attention.

Looking up, Ivan froze slightly in surprise.

Arthur Kirkland was already there, practicing alone beneath the pale rink lights.

Even Ivan, who rarely followed figure skating competitions, recognized him immediately. Arthur’s movements were sharp yet elegant, every turn precise enough to keep Ivan quietly watching for far longer than he intended.

Finishing the last lace on his skates, Ivan hesitated. Part of him wanted to leave Arthur alone, while another part desperately wanted to ask for skating advice—or simply skate alongside someone who clearly loved the ice as much as he once did.

After building up enough courage, Ivan finally stepped closer to the rink. His voice echoed lightly through the empty arena, deep but carrying an unusual nervousness beneath it.