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The first time Wakaba notices Kaori, she hears her before she sees her. Big laugh, echoing off the walls, and then a scrawny girl with crooked teeth running into the room where the little podium steps are arranged with a shout of victory. Wakaba stares at her for a second, and wonders what is there to be so happy about third place. She thinks it’s obnoxious that the other girl is being so loud but focuses on celebrating her own win gracefully like her coaches have told her to.
She doesn’t expect it at all when the loud girl throws herself at her and wraps her arms tightly around her to congratulate her. She smiles despite herself, surprised that an opponent she has just beaten should congratulate her so sincerely.
That is of course only the first time Wakaba ever interacted with Kaori, and it doesn’t take long for her to start looking for her at any competition she arrives at. She still tries to be graceful in her wins, she works and trains hard to be better, to achieve her dreams of representing her country one day at the Olympics. She sees Kaori trying as well, and she can’t help but be annoyed at how lightly she takes every setback. Kaori falls multiple times at practice, and during competition, standing right back up with a large smile on her face. She’s so unflappable, it irritates the hell out of Wakaba, who takes everything way too seriously.
She tries to ignore Kaori, to tune her out, all the while looking for her at every competition. Kaori, on the other hand, seeks her out every single time they run into each other at an event, trying to break her composure, pulling faces at her, and wishing Wakaba luck loudly and congratulating her with smiles and hugs every time Wakaba wins over her.
Wakaba thinks to herself that she just doesn’t understand Kaori. She convinces herself that she looks for her at every event because she’s the only one who has occasionally managed to win ahead of Wakaba and decides Kaori should be her rival.
They compete at the same circuit of events for years, orbiting each other, not really friends, but two rivals who motivate each other to reach higher. Wakaba finds herself unable to hate Kaori for making it to the Olympic Team before her, when Kaori is the one who approaches her and tells her she’s sorry they couldn’t make it together, but that she’d give her best. Wakaba watches from home, her heart jumping with every step Kaori takes on the ice during the Olympic Games, and surprises herself by her own desire for Kaori to do well.
There will later come a period of Kaori struggling with injury, and not being able to compete, during which she is shocked to see Kaori in the stands, cheering for everyone who competes loudly with her big smile. Wakaba finds that she skates exceptionally well that day but does not think about why that might be. She also doesn’t think too hard about why she seeks Kaori out later, who is talking and laughing loudly among a group of other skaters, so that she can hug her and ask her how she is. It is the appropriate thing to do for rivals, after all, to wish their rivals best, so that they can win against them fair and square.
She doesn’t realize that she opens the door to a friendship with that, that Kaori bursts through with a determination that shall not be stopped.
It starts with texts from Kaori before competitions, wishing her luck. She sends her thanks and ignores the fact that it makes her feel proud to know that Kaori is following her competitions and ignores that knowing this makes her skate harder and better.
It continues with Kaori congratulating her on her scores and wins after competitions, which are usually followed by many emojis and some outrageous exclamation from Kaori that Wakaba should watch out for when she comes back, and give her best not to slack off while Kaori is out, unable to challenge her. Wakaba finds herself wondering more and more often when Kaori will return, rationalizing that of course she needs her rival to keep her on her toes, nothing more.
One day she texts Kaori herself first, and asks her how her recovery is doing, and the next thing she knows, Kaori is sending her frequent updates about her recovery and starting training again and they have been texting back and forth for weeks, talking about anything and nothing.
She wonders how she ended up in this situation, her most talked to contact being her biggest rival. She tells herself it’s because Kaori is the only one who understands the pressures she faces, it just makes sense that they would have a lot to talk about.
Things shift between them in the year leading up to the Beijing Olympics. Wakaba increases her training, her focus sharper than ever before. She stops texting, she stops doing anything that could potentially distract her from making it to the Olympic Team this time around. Kaori is back, performing better than she did in a while, and then the pandemic happens, and it’s all around a weird and exhausting season.
Before the Japanese Nationals Kaori texts her for the first time in a while and asks that Wakaba gives her best, so that they can go to Beijing together. Wakaba finds herself emotional at her friend reaching out, wondering about exactly when she started considering Kaori her friend.
Wakaba knows that figure skating is cutthroat. Girls befriend you and then turn around and gossip about you with the others in the locker rooms. They talk about your body, your outfits, your programs, and then call you their friend.
She knows this happens to Kaori, too, since she has heard one too many times how cruel other girls can be towards Kaori when she’s not in the room, talking about how she doesn’t have a triple axel, how she’s not very girly or graceful, even though when Kaori is there, everyone circles her like she’s the sun.
She wonders if Kaori knows about what is being told about her behind her back. She wonders if she keeps reaching out for years because she’s lonely too.
A part of her also wonders how the other girls don’t see how radiantly beautiful Kaori is, deciding that they must see it, and be envious of it. So, when she finishes second behind Kaori at the Japanese Nationals, both making it to the Olympic team, she goes to the exit to congratulate her. And when Kaori hugs her with tears of happiness in her eyes, she lets herself believe that Kaori is truly happy for her. That she wanted Wakaba to succeed and is relieved that Wakaba made it, no matter how much her mind and her heart warn her to be careful, that there are no true friends in figure skating.
But the girl holding her tight and crying into her shoulder is real, and she’s currently informing her that Wakaba is to be her roommate and they will have so much fun in Beijing.
Beijing is a hot mess. Kaori is a bundle of nerves, a crying mess, which surprises Wakaba, seeing for the first time how much Kaori cares about winning, and how hard she struggles with her nerves before competition. She also sees how she smiles after every setback and manages to pull it together until she’s in the safety of their room. It makes her feel proud that Kaori doesn’t hide the worries and the self-doubt from her.
Then there are doping allegations to the Russian team, team event medals not being handed out, the stress of it all gets to both. The singles event approaches. Wakaba is panicking because she hasn’t been able to land her combo, which had been wonky the whole season, during the practice whole week.
It is the night before the short program that Wakaba finally lets her believe that Kaori might be her best friend, and a great one at that.
Kaori is buried behind her laptop screen for hours that night. Wakaba avoids disturbing her, struggling with her own feelings of panic, and is startled when Kaori yells triumphantly that she’s got it, and jumps over to Wakaba’s bed with the laptop still in her hand. Before Wakaba’s brain can catch up with the fact that her bed is being invaded by Kaori who’s grinning ear to ear, wondering if she has finally lost it, Kaori flips over the screen and starts a video of Wakaba’s short program and makes her watch the entry to the combo Wakaba has been struggling with, excitedly telling her how she knows why Wakaba has been struggling with the combo the whole season.
As Wakaba watches and listens to her explain, she realizes three things about Kaori Sakamoto at the same time:
1. She is truly and deeply passionate about figure skating and works harder than anyone realizes.
2. She is frighteningly smart.
3. She is the kindest, most generous person Wakaba knows.
She turns to Kaori, nodding and thinking how incredulous it is, that she would spend the night before the short program helping her biggest rival be better. They would not be competing as teammates the next day, it should be every woman for herself at this point.
She sees Kaori’s smile and satisfaction at being able to help and can’t help but ask why.
Kaori just looks at her, as if she’s trying to decipher the meaning behind the question.
Why would you spend your time tonight trying to help a rival, when you could be preparing for your own skate, Wakaba asks quietly, not caring about the tears that escape her eyes.
She wants to believe so hard that she can have this, she can have Kaori be her best friend, but it’s a terrifying thought to entertain.
Kaori just shrugs, and says she wants Wakaba to do well, and grins again.
It is the first time Wakaba notices how cute the dimple on Kaori’s left cheek is when she smiles, the thought so sharp and so sudden, it startles her, and she laughs.
Kaori reaches and wipes the tears from Wakaba’s eyes, and hugs her tightly, telling her she wants them both to have skates tomorrow that they could be proud of.
Wakaba believes her.
The first time they end up falling asleep together is also in Beijing, after Kaori’s miraculous short program, which lands her in the third spot, Wakaba herself feeling good about her program, even though the scores weren’t as high as she had hoped for.
Kaori has been talking about how unfair the judges were to Wakaba, mimicking Wakaba’s jumps and skating with wild arms and sound effects, looking like an unhinged person. Wakaba knows they’re both feeling the high of adrenaline, and yet she still reaches out and pulls Kaori down next to her in the bed and wraps and arm around her, joking that if she needs to restrain her to be able to get some rest, then she’ll do it, expecting Kaori to laugh and break away.
What she doesn’t expect is how Kaori relaxes into her embrace and sighs, asking quietly if Wakaba thinks she stands a chance for the podium. Wakaba hugs her closer, and tells her that she thinks for Kaori, anything might be possible.
Kaori twists around and smiles, thanking her with a smile that Wakaba over time starts thinking of as the smile Kaori only reserves for her, and tells Wakaba she’s the best, before she settles back onto her side. Neither one of them makes an attempt to leave, and they fall asleep with Wakaba’s arm around Kaori that night.
Kaori does another clean skate during the free skate, and with the Russian girl crumbling under pressure, she ends up winning the bronze medal. Wakaba realizes that she is truly proud and happy for her friend. She thinks she deserves even more.
When she approaches Kaori afterwards to congratulate her, she is surprised, even though she knows she shouldn’t be surprised by the things Kaori does anymore, that Kaori shouts joyfully and envelopes her in a big hug in front of the cameras, wrapping them both in the giant Japanese flag she has in her hands.
She feels Kaori’s heart basically vibrating with happiness, her cold sweat on her skin, and her tears on her shoulder. Her heart feels so full, so fully connected to this person, who always makes her seen and appreciated, and she thinks about how Kaori is destined for even greater things, and that’s what breaks the dam.
She feels her own tears trail down her cheeks. She hears Kaori thank her, and before she can ask for what, Kaori is already pulling away and wiping Wakaba’s tears gently with the flag.
When Kaori pulls her in for a photo under the flag together, as if they won together, she has for once no trouble believing the sincerity of the girl she now considers her best friend.
Beijing becomes a turning point for them, physical affection now becoming a normality of their friendship. Journalists and fans get used to them talking about each other during interviews, calling each other their biggest rivals and best friends, no one bats an eye when they hug each other before and after competitions. They make plans to meet up as often as they can, always ending up sitting on a bed somewhere talking almost the whole night, and then falling asleep together like they did in Beijing.
Wakaba tells Kaori things she has never told anyone about, like how she had trouble trusting the other girls, how she still expects people to turn on her. She tells Kaori about the locker room gossip and is not surprised when Kaori admits that she had been aware of it the whole time. Kaori confesses to her that it has been such a source of insecurity that her femininity gets questioned so often with regards to her skating and how she presents herself.
She alludes to other rumors about herself; more sordid ones Wakaba has also heard about. It’s not really a question but a confession when she asks Wakaba if she would think differently of her, if she liked girls. The answer comes easily to Wakaba, saying she loves her for who she is, and that she is the best person she knows. Wakaba pretends not to notice Kaori trying to hide her tears later that night and holds on tight to her best friend.
Kaori is the one who Wakaba relies on when she has setbacks and the road to victory is long and hard. The thought of retirement is enticing, but she keeps going, wondering what would happen to their friendship if they didn’t have figure skating to keep them connected. She watches Kaori reach one achievement after another and become one of the greatest skaters of their generation, if not all time, with so much pride in her heart that it feels like she will burst.
She watches how Kaori lifts everyone around her up, and she wonders at the locker rooms becoming way more friendly over the years, Kaori leading with example. She feels so much admiration sometimes, that it feels silly when they meet up again, her best friend being her normal self, feeling small in Wakaba’s arms when they fall asleep in the night.
Wakaba decides to campaign for one more Olympic bid and announces that she’d be retiring afterwards. She feels Kaori’s encouragement carry her throughout the season. She feels every jump and every fall in her bones, the pain more than she thinks she can bear sometimes. She does her best the whole season, and yet it’s still not enough.
Kaori, unsurprisingly, wins the Nationals yet again, and makes it to the Olympic team without question, making history by being on the Olympic team three times in a row. When Kaori skates her free skate, Wakaba can’t bear to watch with the others, feeling overwhelmed for her Kaori, for she is hers, she is her best friend, and her person, and doesn’t care for once what the cameras see when the tears come as Kaori soars.
She knows, for the first time, that this is the end of an era. Her heart aches with the thought of never seeing Kaori compete again, more than it aches for herself, and her own retirement. She has made her peace with never competing again, not caring to feel the kind of pain she has been managing the whole season.
When Kaori takes her bows and waves to the stands, all she can think of is how beautiful Kaori looks when she smiles, and how proud she is of her. She soaks in the love pouring from the stands, as if it were meant for her, knowing she is part of Kaori, and Kaori a part of her, as certain of this fact as she is of her own name.
It is also at this point that she starts questioning if this is normal best friend behavior.
Wakaba knows that their friendship has always been intense, for the lack of a better word for it, but she has always attributed it to them knowing each other for so long, for having intense rivalry in their earlier years. But she can’t remember anything but curiosity and warmth when she thinks of their interactions from back then.
They have gone through intense competitions, injuries, the Olympics… she knows most people don’t experience such intense emotions on a daily basis. But at night, when she dares to be completely honest with herself, she can admit that what she feels for Kaori goes beyond what best friends feel for each other.
She knows deep down; she’s not trying to be a best friend when she hugs and touches Kaori at any opportunity – she basically craves the physical connection. That her obsession with Kaori’s smile and her dimple on her cheek, and that stupidly beautiful mole above her lip are not regular things friends probably think about so frequently.
But then she reminds herself of Kaori’s half confession from years ago, knowing Kaori is into women, and tells herself she would have said or done something if she felt something more, folding these emotions and thoughts neatly and placing them back into their drawers in her mind. She tries very hard to ignore the voice that suggests that maybe Kaori is feral about her in the same ways that Wakaba is for her.
Wakaba watches the Milano Olympics wishing every single minute she was there with Kaori. She texts her encouragements, laughs when Kaori supplies her with a steady stream of photos and videos from the Olympic village. Wakaba allows herself to wonder if Kaori also thinks about her as much when Kaori does her ‘W’ sign for luck in front of the cameras before her free skate, impulsively reposting it on her social media, commenting that she loves Kaori very much, knowing the narrative best friends supporting each other will obscure her true feelings in the moment, because all she wants is to climb on a roof somewhere and scream how much she wants Kaori – and that, she knows is not normal best friend behavior.
The next couple of days are increasingly confusing for Wakaba, communicating with Kaori through interviews, reading into everything she says. She tries to stop herself from dissecting everything, but Kaori doesn’t make it easy when she says thanks to Wakaba she has had a happy skating life. She makes it even harder when she is asked about the ‘W’ sign on TV in a call with Wakaba, when she admits it meant ‘W’ for Wakaba without hesitation.
Wakaba feels like her grip on reality is slipping, desperate for someone to confirm that this is indeed crazy, because seriously, who does that?
This is how Wakaba ends up on her phone deleting and retyping a text to Kaori for the fifth time about a week before the World Championship, hoping to catch her before she flies to Prague.
She finally manages to formulate an invitation that sounds chill and regular, and considering the first draft was something like I’m about to lose my mind because I might be in love with you and I don’t know if you also feel the same way or if you’re just being you, oh by the way do you wanna discuss this over dinner, she feels proud of herself for managing this impossible text.
Kaori of course says yes, because she has literally never turned down a chance to see Wakaba in her life.
They meet halfway as they usually do, and Wakaba books the hotel room, like she always does. She pretends that her heart doesn’t do a backflip when she sees Kaori looking exhausted and still smiling her special smile for Wakaba when she sees her. Kaori pretty much runs to her, and hugs her tight, telling her how much she missed her, and everything is right in Wakaba’s world again.
Then they separate and Wakaba’s world crumbles. Wakaba notices the small things during dinner, the tiredness in Kaori’s eyes, but also the way her smile doesn’t reach the whole way to her eyes, the way she looks burdened like she never has before. Kaori talks with almost no pause, as if she’s trying to avoid giving Wakaba a chance to ask questions. She acts cheerful in a way that Wakaba knows is acting.
She has known Kaori for almost two decades at this point, and her heart breaks for this beautiful strong woman in front of her, who looks like she’s about to crumble under the stress and the weight of disappointment. Wakaba thinks about all the times that Kaori pulled her from dark places, and she knows for a fact that Kaori would pull herself out as well, with a laugh and a smile on her face, and for once she wishes that Kaori would rely on her to carry the weight for her instead.
After dinner they walk to the hotel, Kaori quiet for the first time since she has arrived. Wakaba drifts towards Kaori, linking their arms together, gravitating as always towards each other. When they lay on the big bed next to each other, they’re still quiet, which is unusual for them.
Wakaba turns towards Kaori, reaching gently to touch her face to swipe her hair away from her eyes. She lingers longer than she means to, her fingers stroking Kaori’s head with affection for a minute. Kaori shuts her eyes at the sensation and sighs. Then she surprises Wakaba by turning towards her and snuggling closer, faces close enough to almost touch.
She smiles a genuine little smile this time and asks if Wakaba is disappointed in her, telling her how much she wanted to get the gold for the both of them.
Wakaba laughs putting her hand on Kaoris cheek and tells her that she has never disappointed her, and that she’s so proud of her. Kaori swallows and looks at her with an open vulnerability that is so like her that it takes Wakaba’s breath away.
Come to Prague with me, she says.
Wakaba is speechless at that.
Come to Prague and watch me skate, Kaori repeats, I need you there with me.
I retired, Wakaba says, it would be highly unusual for me to be there to cheer for you as your best friend.
Something unfamiliar flashes in Kaori’s eyes at Wakaba’s reply.
Best friends don’t rent hotel rooms halfway between their cities to share a bed, she says, Wakaba startling with the desperation in Kaori’s voice, finally voicing what has gone unsaid between them for too long.
Best friends don’t think about their friend 24/7 when they’re about to have the biggest skate of their life. I missed you so much, Kaori says, almost rambling, I missed you so much it felt like I couldn’t breathe.
I loved skating because I skated with you, she confesses, continuing before Wakaba can interrupt.
I think I worked so hard for so many years because I wanted you to see me and be impressed. I tried so hard to make you my friend when we were young because I thought you were the prettiest, most talented and the smartest girl in the world, she adds, not caring about the tears that start running down her face.
I think I have loved you since we were kids, she manages to confess, before shutting her eyes, as if she’s afraid of Wakaba’s answer.
Kaori’s confession, the way she just put her own heart in Wakaba’s hands to crush it or cherish it with such vulnerability leaves Wakaba speechless.
She realizes in that moment that she is scared. She fears what people will think or say, she is scared that they will end up ruining their friendship.
She also knows that she will never forgive herself if she breaks Kaori’s heart.
She leans forward and rests her forehead against Kaori’s, their noses touching. She feels how fast Kaori is breathing, and she feels her own heart beating hard against her chest.
You were the loudest, most irritating child I had ever met, and I was completely fascinated by you, she says with a teasing tone. Kaori’s eyes shoot open, looking at her in confusion.
All these years, I thought I just never met the right person to knock me off my feet. Maybe love just wouldn’t happen for me, I thought, she adds, touching Kaori’s face again, but it was you. It was always you. I have only ever wanted you.
There’s silence after Wakaba’s confession. For once, Kaori doesn’t fill it with laughter. Her eyes search Wakaba’s face with an almost painful intensity, as if she’s memorizing it, bracing herself for disappointment that might still come.
For a second, she just stares, her dark eyes searching Wakaba’s face for a lie, a joke, any sign that she is misunderstanding.
Wakaba feels the tremor in Kaori’s breath where their foreheads touch, the soft brush of it across her lips. They have been close before, laid next to each other in bed, but never like this, never with everything laid bare.
Kaori slowly closes the final fraction of an inch between them. It isn’t the smooth, graceful collision Wakaba might have imagined in the darkest, most secret corners of her mind. It is clumsy, desperate, and wet with the tears still streaked across their cheeks. Their noses bump, their angles all wrong, but then their lips finally press together, and Wakaba feels like she’s on fire.
She lets out a sound that is half-gasp, half-sob, opening her mouth under the firm pressure of Kaori’s lips. Heat rushes from her chest all the way down to her fingertips. All the years of lingering touches, of sleeping in the same bed, of mapping the line of Kaori’s shoulders under the guise of friendly comfort, and finally she’s allowed to touch without any other pretense.
She slides her hands from Kaori’s cheeks to tangle deeply in her hair, pulling her closer, a reckless boldness taking her over.
Kaori makes a low noise in the back of her throat and shifts her weight, pushing forward until she is practically climbing over the mattress, pressing Wakaba down into the sheets, Wakaba’s world narrowing into just the sensation of Kaori’s body pushing against hers in the best way possible. The heavy duvet gets kicked aside in a frantic tangle of limbs. The kiss turns greedy, as if they are trying to make up for a decade of lost time in a matter of seconds.
Kaori’s hands are everywhere, gripping Wakaba’s waist, her shoulders, pulling her flush against her body so there isn't an inch of space left between them.
Wakaba can feel Kaori’s heart beating right against her own ribs. She arches upward, her fingers fisting so tightly into Kaori’s shirt she might tear it, trying to get closer than physically possible to her.
Kaori breaks the kiss just long enough to take a breath, her lips then immediately dropping to kiss along the line of Wakaba’s jaw, pressing her way down to Wakaba’s neck. Wakaba shivers violently at the sensation of Kaori’s tongue on her neck as she completely unravels under the heavy, solid weight of Kaori above her. She tips her head back, letting out a soft, breathless sigh that Kaori catches by dragging her mouth back up to kiss her again, deeper and heavier this time. They are completely wrapped up in each other, a mess of tangled legs and gripping hands, devouring the careful distance they had spent years trying to maintain.
When they finally, reluctantly pull apart, they don't go far. Kaori’s arms are wrapped around Wakaba’s shoulders, her chest heaving as she rests her forehead against Wakaba’s. Her lips are swollen, flushed red, and she’s looking at Wakaba with an open adoration that takes Wakaba’s breath away. Wakaba reaches up, her thumb gently tracing the corner of Kaori's mouth, brushing right over that stupidly beautiful mole she had spent years obsessing over, her heart making a backflip in her chest when Kaori smiles at the gesture.
You have no idea, Wakaba murmurs, how long I've wanted to do that.
Do what, kiss me? Kaori asks, in wonder.
Touch you like this, Wakaba says. She presses her thumb deliberately against the small dark mark just above Kaori's lip, And this. Her fingers slide across Kaori's warm cheek, finding the exact spot where that infuriating dimple always appears.
I used to sit in the Kiss and Cry, frustrated at the judges or worrying about my scores and then they would show you on the monitor smiling. And I’d just stare at your dimple and feel so angry that you were so pretty. It drove me crazy. I've been obsessed with your face for years.
Kaori lets out a laugh. You can touch me however you want, she whispers, turning her head to press a warm, lingering kiss right into the center of Wakaba's palm. I’m all yours.
Wakaba believes her. She knows Kaori like she knows herself, she knows that Kaori doesn’t know how not to commit fully to anything. She loves her all the more for it.
I’ll come to Prague with you, if you really want me there, she finally says, knowing that this will end up starting quite a lot of rumors. Wakaba worries she’s being too cheesy but still adds shyly, I’ll go anywhere with you, if you want me to.
I want you with me, always, Kaori’s reply comes fast, with no hesitation. They just lie in each other’s arms for a moment, as if they need a moment to collect themselves from the vulnerability of the moment.
You looked sad at dinner tonight, Wakaba says, not wanting to sour the mood, but not able to help herself.
The sadness crosses Kaori’s face, which she tries to smile away. Wakaba kisses Kaori’s shoulder, trying to comfort her.
It’s the combo from the Olympics, the one I messed up, Kaori says, her voice shaky. I thought it was the nerves, but I messed it up again during the show competition back at home.
Wakaba looks up, worried, and sees the exhaustion in Kaori’s face. She asks if she talked to her coaches about it.
Kaori nods, and says, I told them that something feels wrong in the transition. I told them I need to change the approach or I’m going to pop it again. She looks up then, her eyes full with frantic desperation. They just told me to keep training it. They said I’m overthinking, that it’s just nerves from the Olympics, and if I just do a hundred more repetitions, the muscle memory will take over.
Wakaba nods, knowing how it feels to be on the ice, to feel that something is wrong that no one else can see. She thinks back to that night in Beijing, when Kaori had stayed up for hours dissecting Wakaba’s own jumps. She feels angry that Kaori feels left alone in this, but keeps it to herself, letting Kaori unburden herself for a moment longer.
I feel like I’m losing my mind, Kaori says, defeated. I started thinking that maybe they’re right. Maybe I am just spiraling. Maybe I’ve finally hit my limit and I’m just looking for excuses.
Wakaba turns around and lifts herself up on her elbows, looking down at Kaori, her fingers tucking away the stray hairs on her forehead. Wakaba leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the bridge of Kaori’s nose.
I believe you, she says, if you say something is wrong with the transition, then something is wrong with the transition, as if there could never have been any possibility that Kaori is wrong about this. Kaori’s face lights up at the absolute belief that Wakaba has in her.
What am I going to do? Kaori asks then, looking at Wakaba as if she’s the answer to all her questions.
You’re going to show me, Wakaba says, her mind made up. I will come home with you, and we will go to the rink, and I will watch for as long as it takes until we find the problem. And then you will fix it.
Kaori just stares up at her. An incredulous smile spreads across her face, lighting up her eyes until they crinkle at the corners. Wakaba feels so much pride at being able to give that relief to Kaori that she feels like she could fly.
You're amazing, Kaori whispers, Have I told you recently that you're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me?
Wakaba blushes furiously at the compliment. She drops her forehead to rest against Kaori’s collarbone, hiding her face as a laugh escapes her. You are being so ridiculous right now, she mumbles into Kaori’s warm skin.
Kaori’s hands slide up Wakaba's spine, fingers tracing a slow path over her shoulder blades before settling on the nape of her neck.
I don't know what I'd do without you, she says fondly. I'm going to win gold in Prague, and then I'm going to grab the microphone in the middle of the ice and tell the entire world that Wakaba Higuchi is the absolute love of my life, she adds pumping her fist up to the ceiling in a ridiculous victory pose, shaking the whole mattress as she does so, making Wakaba laugh.
If you do that, I will literally sink through the floor and disappear forever, Wakaba says, finally lifting her head, but her smile betrays her serious tone.
I’d never let you go, Kaori objects, making Wakaba’s breath catch in her throat all over again.
Before Wakaba can even formulate a response, Kaori's hands pull her down, to kiss her. It is slow and deliberate, a sweet, lazy exploration that makes Wakaba's head spin and the rest of her thoughts completely short-circuit. She lets out a quiet, contented sigh, shifting her weight until she is straddling Kaori’s hips, wondering why they haven’t done this years ago.
Soon the friction of skin sliding against skin washes that thought away, and all that is left is Kaori, and the way she feels against Wakaba’s body.