The Hallway Between Them

The supportive cheers sounded like they were coming from another world. Ayaka was not used to watching practice from so far back; the distance made everything feel unfamiliar. This was not the cutthroat environment she had come up in; it was the one her generation had fought to create, where team support finally replaced in‑house rivalries.

And yet she was barred from the very space she had helped shape.

Hoshino Emiri stepped onto the ice and struck a poised center‑ice pose. She opened with a bright swing‑dance sequence, then launched into her first jump: a crisp triple‑triple; triple flip, triple toe loop.

Ayaka was impressed. The young skater had improved since the last time she had been able to watch her. Ayaka still did not feel the pressure of being chased, but the sight stirred something restless in her; the ache to get back on the ice.

Emiri landed a clean double axel and flowed straight into a flawless flying camel spin. The girls below cheered as if they were watching a competition. Emiri’s face glowed under the attention.

Ayaka could not watch anymore. Her competitors were improving while she was stuck in place. She wanted nothing more than to be out there with them, but she knew rushing her recovery would only keep her away longer. She slipped out quietly; only Kanae noticed, turning just in time to see Ayaka limp out the door.

The hallway suddenly felt long, and the boot felt heavy. Her mind kept replaying her routine, restless and scattered. She just wanted to get back to physical therapy, to pull her thoughts into some kind of order.

A sharp sting shot up her leg from her foot. Ayaka hissed under her breath and leaned against the wall for support. As she checked her boot, she scolded herself for not paying attention. She had lost the one thing she still had as an athlete, her focus.

Kaito saw Ayaka leaning against the wall, her face tight with pain. He froze, unsure what to do. She had always been there for him, and he had practically ignored her the last time they crossed paths. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering the courage to move.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice hesitant. “Do you need any help?”

Ayaka looked up and gave him an exaggeratedly shocked expression. “You can speak in full sentences?”

Kaito let his flustered expression slip through again before he managed to regain control. Ayaka laughed softly at his reaction, then winced as the pain returned.

“I think I walked too fast and got a sharp pain,” she admitted, not entirely sure why she was being so honest with him.

Kaito studied her foot from a cautious distance, clearly unsure how he was supposed to help.

Ayaka smiled at him, which only made him look more lost.

“Are you going to help give me support, or should I rely on the wall?” she teased.

His eyes widened as he jolted into action. “Of course.”

She rested a hand on his shoulder, a little too high to be comfortable, but he did not seem like the type to put an arm around her to steady her.

“So, are you hiding from the cannibals again?” Ayaka asked playfully.

Her nickname for reporters was becoming second nature to him; he even secretly thought it was fitting.

“No. I’m on my way to get doctor’s clearance to practice again,” he answered honestly.

Ayaka stopped and looked up at him. She knew he did not mean anything by it; he was just innocent and straightforward when he actually chose to speak.

“Are you trying to pick a fight with me too?” she teased, giving him a light jab to the side. “Don’t start picking up bad habits from Daichi‑sensei.”

She laughed, and her smile made the meaning clear. Kaito looked ahead and smiled too as they continued down the hallway, Ayaka still awkwardly trying to prop herself up on his shoulder.

Kaito suddenly broke his own silence. “Why do you call them cannibals?”

“You can start a conversation too?” Ayaka teased. “I learn something new about you every time we meet.”

Kaito’s face flushed with embarrassment. It had taken him quite a bit of mental convincing to ask. He usually only talked to people after years of exposure; he knew this about himself. He was not sure why he felt so close to her so quickly.

“I was reading an article where some ‘source’ claimed I was skipping practice before the last Olympics,” she began. “Like I ever would. Anyway, it made me so angry that I accidentally clicked on an article about a tribe of cannibals being found. It felt like a natural connection.”

Kaito could not help noticing how different their experiences with reporters were. He let the thought swirl in his mind for a moment. Trying to compare their contrasting relationships with the media seemed impossible.

“We have completely different experiences,” Kaito finally said. “Not sure the term applies to my reporters.”

Ayaka looked up at him again; she could see he was giving the topic real thought.

“What are you talking about?” she said. “They eat my reputation, and they eat your peace. They are just eating different parts of us.”

Kaito laughed, a genuine laugh, the first she had ever heard from him. She could not laugh with him; she was too taken in by the open expression on his face.

They reached Morita’s office; technically, Kaito was the one with the appointment, but he brought her in with him anyway. Morita stood up faster than even he expected of himself.

“What happened?” he asked, already swept into Ayaka’s orbit of worry.

“I wasn’t thinking and walked a bit too fast, sensei,” Ayaka said, giving him a small pout.

Morita relaxed at the expression. She only acted like that when the pain had already passed. It likely was not as serious as he first feared.

“Alright, get on the table. Let me take a look.” He gestured toward the exam table.

Kaito helped her up. She gave him a calm, easy smile, and he could tell she was already feeling better.