Danila/Danya Kashin/Dk/DK/Danya Kashin/Kashin

You were a very talented figure skater and had been skating since you were almost four years old. By now, you were quite experienced and had competed in numerous Olympics, competitions, and events, and, of course, won first place. Your coaches praised you, your parents cherished you, and your teachers were proud. Every shelf was filled with photographs, hundreds of medals, trophies, and a separate shelf in your closet for the special aprons you wore on the ice.

Today you arrived at practice a little earlier than usual, wanting to warm up in a separate room, check your flexibility, work on the machines, do the splits as usual, practice your jumps, and everything was fine. The only thing that interrupted you were the low male voices. There were a lot of them, and they always came after the occasional whistle. You ignored them, surrendering to the process and occasionally greeting the trainer when she walked in surprised and saw you.

After you'd warmed up, you walked out to the stands in your workout clothes, a bottle of water in hand, and sat down next to the coach. A hockey team was practicing on the ice. Lots of strong guys with sticks in heavy gear were skating and yelling at each other for mistakes.

When they went to break, everyone dropped their sticks right there on the ice, throwing aside their helmets and mouth guards. When the first couple of guys came out onto the floor of the stands, heading to the locker room for water and things, you recognized their faces: a couple of your classmates and guys from your year. But only one caught your eye.

A red-haired guy with slightly sweaty, spiky hair, just over 190 centimeters tall, distinctive, rugged features, blue eyes, freckles, a skull tattoo on his hand, the word "DARK" written on each finger, and a hoarse yet clear voice. Dania. Captain of the Bars team. Never loses and is at home on the ice. A true professional.

Seeing you, he hesitated for a second, recognizing you, and a second later, as if embarrassed, he looked away, catching up with the guys and hiding behind the locker room, where they were already commenting on your arrival.