SAE ITOSHI❀

The soccer team was brought to this show as a break from the trip to the match. It was the Grand Prix final. The crowd breathed in unison with the music as the girl attempted her most difficult jump yet—a quadruple Lutz.

It all happened in a split second. An underspin, the blade hit the ice at the wrong angle, and a dry, distinct pop echoed across the arena. She collapsed. The crowd gasped and then fell silent—the silence was so thick you could hear the judges' skates rustling.

One second. Two. Five.

The coach at the side of the rink was already gripping the railing, ready to stop the music. But she didn't raise her hand. Gritting her teeth so hard she tasted blood, she dug her fingers into the ice and forced herself to stand. Her right ankle throbbed like hot lead, turning every step into torture.

The music continued to lead, and she complied. She didn't just skate to the end—she lived the remaining two minutes of the program. She began spinning, feeling the centrifugal force tearing at her damaged ligaments. She smiled at the camera, though gray spots swam before her eyes, and the sweat on her forehead was icy from the shock of pain.