Archive of Our Own

"Oie, Langa." The redhead chided, his face centimeters away from the blue haired boy. His feeble attempts to push the larger boy really only falling on deaf ears, "Not here. You know Miya and Shadow are coming soon."

If only those idiots knew just how soon. So soon in fact, Miya was already there. Steps away from entering the skatepark, he had to quickly hide himself behind a nearby column to not walk straight into the older boys' make out session. Honestly, even after graduating high school, those two couldn't even be considered adults. They knew that 9AM was their meeting time but here they were, shamelessly all over each other as if there wasn't going to be anyone walking up on them. What adults spent their time flirting in an empty skatepark? It was almost pitiable if it wasn't so pathetic.

As Miya continued to watch from his chosen hiding spot, Langa took his chance to make his move. Lips met as he grasped the back of his partner's head, causing his cheeks to flush as brightly as his hair. Truth be told, even if Miya couldn't really see what was happening from this angle but it was obvious nonetheless. The way Reki's fingers grasped for purchase into the other boy's shirt. The way Langa let his precious skateboard fall from his fingertips so his hand would be free to caress the other boy's shoulder. Did they even know they were steps away from being labelled to Japan as sexual predators?

The real question was why did he even hide himself? It was an open secret that Reki and Langa were together. The only people who seemed to think it was hidden were the two themselves. You had to be an idiot not to notice the way Langa wilts whenever something happens to Reki or the way Reki's over protective side only ever comes out for Langa. Then there was the lack of personal space that went well past the 'he's a Canadian' excuse. It was more admirable that they managed to keep their own mouths shut for the year Miya had known them. Denying that Langa and Reki were together was like saying it wasn't obvious Kojiro and Kaoru hadn't slept together or that Hiromi wasn't going to be forever alone.

And Miya Chinen wasn't a fucking idiot.

"Oh, it looks like they're already having fun." Nearly jumping out of his skin, Miya turned to see the face painted social martyr of their group, Hiromi Higa, leaning over his shoulder to catch of a view of what Miya was staring at. "We better hurry up before we have to clean up their mess."

Rolling his eyes, Miya hated to agree. Between a guy who didn't know his limits and a guy who acted like every challenge was a fun new game, Hiromi and Miya had their work cut out for them as the third and fourth stringers in fights they'd never picked. Things had calmed down considerably since Langa had gone off to Okinawa University and Reki took an apprenticeship at a skateboard shop in town, but as soon as they were reunited, any progress made to mature them reverted. "Ugh. Let slimes clean up their own slick."

With that, a hearty laugh came out of the monster of a man above him that caught Miya off guard, "Woah, that's pretty graphic. Though I guess you are getting to be that age."

"What?" It's not like he told Hiromi they were going to beat them up first before they started anything. Staring up at the man, Miya let the gears turn in his brain for a second too long as he connected the dots. Immediately, Miya threw himself away from the other man and out of their hiding place screaming, "Oh, what! Ew! No! Gross!"

"Miya! Shadow! You made it!" Turning back around, it was clear their commotion had caught Reki's attention because he was standing up at this point, waving wildly back at them like there was really a chance they would miss the only two other living beings in the abandoned skatepark. Langa on the other hand had gone to fetch his cast aside board, whispers of flushed ears peaking out behind his draped hair as he did. Shameless.

Still, Miya felt himself smile back at the older boys, quickly turning it into a smirk as he noticed. "Hey you trash mob, are you ready for me to wipe the floor with you guys? Not a lot of time to skateboard in college, is there?"

"There really isn't competition in OU like there is here," As Langa joined up with them, his face having returned to its normal sickly pale, a smile bloomed on his face at the mention of skateboarding, "and it's certainly not as fun without Reki and you guys."

"Right, right," turning back to Reki, Miya stuck his tongue out before tauntingly wagging the tail on his hoodie at him, "it's only Langa with enough screws in his head to make it to college." Not that this was new news, Reki still met with Miya and Hiromi every weekend now that he was alone but that just meant Miya really knew how to push his buttons.

"Why you little, bring it on!" Reki was of course always one to take the bait. "Last one to Pine Wharf's really the one missing screws." Kicking off, Reki disappeared behind a turn as the other 3 skaters mounted their boards. Complaints on the head start filling the air with laughter soon following.

As soon as they were off, it was just like the good old days. Langa just barely inched out Miya at their made up finish line near the pier but not without a less than fair fight by Hiromi who had made sure to launch debris ahead to try and slow down the others. Insisting on proving himself, Miya showed off a few tricks of his own on the rickety wooden decks, bouncing between the railing of the pier before turning back to see the others trying their best to imitating. Reki, ever the incompetent, nearly falling into the ocean as he tried to save his board from a particularly poorly time jump. More concerned about his skateboard than his life, Langa barely grasped at the red head's shirt to save him from disaster as Miya laughed from the sidelines at the possibility of having to fetch Reki like a drowned cat.

There was something plesant about being able to forget about the world as he spent the day skating with his friends but something about it was leaving a bad taste in Miya's mouth. Maybe it was because he wasn't used to losing. Since his only real competition these days were when Kaoru and Kojiro wanted to join them, Miya was rarely so easily crushed. Still, it wasn't the end of the world. It was still nice to see the carefree way Reki laughed now that Langa was back.

Before they even realized it, the sky was setting over the horizon and Miya watched as Langa and Reki waved their goodbyes before climbing atop the worn scooter and disappearing into the night. Climbing into the passenger's seat of Hiromi's minivan, Miya pulled his Switch out of his hoodie pocket and booted up his latest save file of Rune Factory. Hiromi used to complain before about having to be the one to always chauffer everyone yet somehow he always begrudgingly took the 14 year old home like the responsible adult he was and eventually Reki as well when Langa had left for college. Yet, tonight it was just the two of them in the quiet car headed up the slopes save for the hum of the engine and rapid taps of controller inputs.

"Even though it's been a while, Snow's skills never get rusty do they?"

"Mmm." Barely grunting out a response, Miya hated to admit it but Langa was good as he always was, if not better. It was as if his love of skateboarding was reignited on his visit back to their hometown and that just pissed Miya off more for some reason. He knew, somewhere deep inside of him he knew he didn't really want his friend to be bad at skating but at the same time he really wanted to beat him this time. He wanted to prove that he was better.

"And Reki was in tip top shape as well. They always manage to pump each other up, it really gets you inspired you know?"

Clicking his tongue as his party died for the third time, Miya couldn't find the inspiration to keep playing his game but he wasn't bored enough as to stoop low enough to start this conversation with Hiromi. Shoving the device roughly back into his pocket, Miya stared out the window of the car, absentmindedly spinning the wheel of his skateboard all the while.

"What's up with you?" From the reflection in the window, Miya could see Hiromi had turned to look at him with concern plastered over his face. Why wasn't he looking at the road, idiot? Was he trying to get them killed? "Look, I know I'm not your dad or whatever but you've been acting really weird all day."

"Is it because of what we saw earlier because -- man I really don't know how to have this talk -- that sort of thing is normal. I mean it's not like normal but it's fine. Like Reki and Langa are just--"

As the words exited the older man's mouth, Miya felt his face light up. How could this guy just start talking like that? Whipping his head around to face him, Miya finally gave him the response he wanted. "You think I'm stupid? You think I don't know that? You know what, you're right. You're not my dad so mind you own business!" Clamoring out of the car as quickly as possible, Miya grabbed his skateboard, slamming the car for shut behind him.

The vehicle hadn't even stopped but Miya didn't care. He'd rather get thrown off his board by Adam than listening to a random middle aged man try to lecture him about sex. Stupid hulking muscle brain and his stupid condescending concern. Miya didn't need to stick around and listen to some guy explain to him the birds and the bees like he hasn't used the internet at his age. Who even was he? Freaking hello fellow kids meme.

Instead of letting him catch up, Miya cut through the thicket along the road so he couldn't be followed. In the distance, he could hear Hiromi yelling at him and revving up the engine to chase him down but Miya really couldn't stand it. Even his own parents didn't talk to him like that.

When Miya did finally make it home, he took a moment to calm himself and shake out some of the twigs that had caught in his hair from his shortcut. Passing through the living room, he murmured a hello to his actual parents and took a detour to the bathroom to clean off the sweat and grime of skateboarding.

Pulling his shirt over his head as the tub began to fill, Miya caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The slim figure that stared back was a poorly defined puddle of skin and bones. For all the exercise he did, he wasn't really growing any muscle. Someone had told him it was all contributing to his height and he was sure to be tall when he grows up, but it didn't help Miya now. He may have been taller than his classmates but he was still the shortest among the skaters.

Tracing the image of his shoulders on the reflective glass, it was clear that even when he did finally get older he'd never have the same bulky build as Hiromi or Kojiro. In fact, he was disappointingly the image of the average Japanese man. Average height, dull black hair, middling slim build and painfully boring dark eyes. He didn't have the foreign allure of Kaoru or Langa with their long pale locks and untainted porcelain skin. Even among those with less conspicuous appearances had their appeal. Adam had a presence that could silence a crowd and even Reki had a smile that could light up a room.

Reki wasn't even that special of a guy. He was an average high schooler with below average grades and an above average obsession with skating but everyone was drawn to him. When they went to the beach last year Miya could see everything on display and if Miya didn't know him personally, the man probably wouldn't have even stood out. Yet, he did so he noticed the ways his auburn hair sparkled in the sun unlike the way his just trapped heat. Unlike Miya, who covered his body among the presence of the more confident, leaner adults. Reki had the confidence to show himself off and that alone made him stick out.

It was little nuances that Miya didn't have that made him feel trapped on the wayside. As the image staring back at him flushed at the thought, he had to wonder if everyone else thought about this. Did Hiromi just accept he was ugly? Did Kojiro exercise to prove a point?

Turning on the shower, he aimed the head right at the mirror, washing away the image, letting steam obscure his vision. It may have been summer break but there was cram school tomorrow and there was no point in wasting away heat.

-----

Even in class, Miya didn't stand out. If he was the protagonist of an anime he could get away with boring features if he still sat in an edge seat, but Miya didn't sit in the back or near the window. Instead, he sat in the boring position of second row fourth seat. An overlooked location that would be lucky to be in the foreground as the camera panned over to the protagonists peering out the window. Not that Miya really wanted to be the protagonist of one of those types of animes anyways. If he was the protagonist where it was acceptable for his appearance to be this boring, it'd probably be a slice of life where everything is infinitely more serious than it had to be or a romance where things went on for ridiculously longer than necessary.

Taking a quick glance around at his classmates, he couldn't help but scoff internally. Not that he would want to be on the other end of a love interest between any of them. They were all frivolous beings who didn't have a future, only living for the day with no dreams pushing them forward. Go to school. Go home. Repeat. Day in and day out. It was no wonder none of them had the ability to match him in skating. They lacked the drive and ambition. You didn't have to be amazing at skating. Take Reki, he was absolutely terrible. Yet he loved what he did and that was an attractive quality.

At least to someone that is. Not to Miya. Defintely not to Miya. Watching a man repeatedly run headfirst literally and metaphorically into a wall wasn't something he could get behind but it was apparently something someone like Langa could. Maybe even literally.

Suddenly Miya's face felt very hot. Taking out his notebook to scribble on under the pretense of taking notes, Miya suddenly hated he was in one of the first rows. Maybe if he buried his face in the book no one would notice how red his ears were getting. He felt like his face was on fire and that wasn't something he wanted his classmates going around gossiping about. Why was he so embaressed anyways? If anything those two slimes should be embaressed that they were going around traumatizing middle schoolers.

Traumatizing? Yeah, it was traumatizing. It was one thing to have to know those two horndogs were together but it was another thing to see it in action. To hear the way Reki's pants came in heavy after only one kiss and his breath hitched at the lecherous way his partner licked his lips in response. He could practically see in his head the two of them continuing. Reki's tongue as desperate as his hands to mark territory in his partner's mouth. Color flooding so passionately to his face that even through his tan skin it was visible the tips of his ears. He could practically feel the goosebumps rising over the sensitive skin of Reki's neck. Miya would--

FUCK.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Slamming his hands down on the desk, Miya looked around. People were already up and congregating. How long had it been since break period even started? Whatever. Mumbling an excuse, "Toilet" he shuffled his way out of the classroom. "Someone's a little pissy." ignoring the jeers of the peanut gallery all the while.

Taking the furthest stall, Miya sat there composing himself. He should have brought his Switch from his backpack. Now he was just stuck in here with his thoughts. Stupid Langa, stupid Reki, and their stupid fucking hormones. They're too busy thinking about making babies they were willing to throw Miya and his poor innocent eyes under the bus. Wait… they're both men so they can't even make babies. It was said to be scientifically impossible but Miya had physical proof that sticking around slime was dropping his IQ by the minute. It wasn't to say he'd pay attention to this boring cram school on a normal day but he just couldn't get his head on straight.

Well, sitting in a dirty bathroom wasn't going to help him. Who knew how long he sat in this stupid toilet stall but class was defintely in session at this point. Maybe he'd just sneak off to the room and watch some skateboard tricks until cram school was over. Flushing the toilet to give the illusion of being finished, Miya stepped out the stall straight into the smiling face of another teen. 'Smiling' to be taken with a grain of salt. It was more like the other boy had ate something bad and was trying to be polite about it.

"Awwww, does poor Chinen have an upset stomach? You were in there for quite a while." The sarcasm that dripped from his voice smelt worse than the bathroom itself.

Spurred by the boy's words, two other boys Miya hadn't notice hanging by the entrance stepped up, cornering Miya where he stood. That was his mistake, he should have kept walking the moment he stepped out. "Yeah we told the teach we'd come looking for you."

Glaring at the boys who formed a wall around him, Miya recognized these trash mob. They were some of the many boring normies who started skating for the fad and dropped it after a couple of bad boo-boos. Rolling his eyes, Miya tried to shove his way through the gap between their shoulders only to be instantly pushed back. Sighing, he held up his hands for them to see "Yeah, I really had the shits so I'd get out of the way if you don't want it on you."

Attempting to make a path through again, Miya was pushed harder, this time stumbling into the stall of the toilet. Looking up a the culprit, by they way he spoke and the way the other two stood behind swelled with misplaced pride told him he was the head honcho, Ryohei Kitamura. Ryohei, Daiki, and… this guy. "Chinen, that's no way to speak to your friends. That's probably why they're so scarce." Mr follower.

"Now now Kenta, you have to remember. This guy's got no friends." Ah yes, thanks for the reminder. Kenta… Whoever he was.

"Right sorry. I didn't mean to be sooo insensitive." Oh yeah, Miya could totally tell from his voice. Not.

Picking himself back of the ground, he gritted his teeth as the group closed in on him. No one was going to come. They were all in class, it was more amazing so many students were missing and a teacher hadn't come to find them. As Daiki stepped up to him, Miya narrowed his eyes, he was definitely the Shadow of their group. All brawns, no brain. "So the thing about friends is that you have to be willing to apologize." Daiki shoved Miya into the wall at Ryohei's words, holding his weight to Miya's chest with one arm. "Follow my lead, I'm sorry that you fell on the ground. Wasn't that nice. Don't you think you owe me an apology now too?"

"You know you owe all of us an apology really. We were trying to be so nice to you." As the other meatheads drew closer, Miya pursed his lips into a line. The best course of action was to not say anything. Let them have their fun. If he didn't react, they'd get bored eventually.

"Nothing. What a shame. Let's try again." With that, a solid punch came from one of the boys square into Miya's gut. He felt its full force with his body still pinned to the wall but Miya did his best to not even flinch. Come on Miya, think of this as training for the next time Adam decides he wants to deliver a skateboard to someone's face.

"You know you made us really sad that you didn't want to skate with us." Miya doubted it but he didn't say anything. They were just looking for a punching bag, not real friendship. Just like not they were taking turns 'teaching' him a lesson.

"You know I really hate this but sometimes" with that Ryohei delivered another punch straight to Miya's face, significantly weaker than the other boy's, "you just have to punish your pet when they won't listen."

Just as Miya felt another blow being delivered to him, he could feel his defense breaking as his body unconciously wheezed for air from the punch into his now already bruising side. "How's it feel now? You still feel high and mighty Mr. Olympiad?" As he did, Daiki released his grip on Miya's chest, letting him fall onto the floor.

Miya sputtered on the ground trying to wrestle for some control. Yet, seconds before he could take a gasping breath, he felt someone's foot slam down in his back, keeping him pinned to the floor. "You know with all those adults you hang out with your think you would have learned some manners." He just had to ignore them.

It was hard though. "He's probably too busy learning other things from them." His body wanted give in already. Maybe he shouldn't have stayed up late skating.

"Woah, you know you're right. I went to the skate shop the other day" Miya felt his body twitch at that comment, "and that red headed guy was way too excited to help me if you know what I mean." Trying to calm himself, he took deep breaths which, wasn't pleasant from the floor of the bathroom. The acrid smell of ammonia pierced his senses, though maybe it was enough to calm him down, bring him back to reality.

"What? No way. Like a pedophile?"

"A gay pedophile?" Or maybe not. Miya's hands balled into fists tight enough he could feel his own nails digging into his palms.

"Hey hey Miya?" Ryohei crouched down to Miya's level, grabbing the fringe of his hair to force him to stare into him. "Is that why you're so interested in them?"

"What, he's getting his ass reamed every night?"

As Ryohei looked away to laugh at his friend's comment, somehow Miya took that as an opening. "I'll show you whose ass is going to get fucking reamed." Before Miya could even process what he was doing, he grabbed hold of Kenta's leg, jerking him down to the floor with him.

"FUCK!"

-----

Somehow, Miya found himself in front of a familiar Italian resturaunt. As his hand hovered in front of the doorknob, he stopped himself. A spec of blood still glimmered on his first. What was he even doing? He couldn't walk in like this. He probably looked like a delinquent. Well, he did beat up those other boys and he rode a skateboard. Maybe he was a delinquent now. Sighing, he briskly turned around. Maybe he'd just go home?

Yet, as much as he willed his feet they didn't want to move. Not to go inside, not to go home, not to stop awkwardly standing in front of this building. Instead, it felt like his legs wanted to collapse right where he was standing. Digging his nails into his palms, he made a break for the alleyway between the buildings, bracing himself against the wall as his legs gave out.

Letting himself slide down the wall, Miya collapsed on the floor. It wasn't fear just pure exhaustion. Maybe dealing with those losers took a lot more out of him than he thought. As his head fell back against the wall staring at the sky between the buildings, he couldn't help but notice what a beautiful blue it was. Miya hated blue.

So many people loved blue, it was their favorite color. Blue was calming and unassuming and could add to anything. Miya hated the freedom blue symbolized. He hated how blue could do anything it wanted, be it a pure innocent color or a mature professional one. He hated how well blue and red complimented each other like fire and ice. He didn't know why. Blue didn't do anything to him. He just couldn't bring himself to like blue anymore.

Before he had even realized it, his eyes were stinging as hot tears fell beyond his control. Ripping his school hat off his head, he buried his face into it but the tears came faster than he could wipe them away and his body took the fabric as an excuse to openly sob. As he was wracked with tears, Miya could only feel worse about himself. If he was an adult he'd be able to control his emotions. He wouldn't be so worked up over nothing. Yet, it only made the cries louder knowing how he just wasn't in enough control of himself even for this. He was pathetic.

Suddenly the back door of the resturaunt slammed open to reveal a familiar green haired man. The shock momentarily silencing Miya's tears. "I thought I heard someone out here. What are you doing on the floor?" As Kojiro looked down at Miya, it was evident that while his wailing may have silence, tears continued to stream down his face. Miya tried his best to compose himself wiping his sleeves across his face, but no amount of sniffling could save his clogged nose, instead he just left his sleeves soaked and disgusting.

Scratching the back of his head, Kojiro let out a sigh. "Look I can't have you out here scaring customers so come on." Stepping aside to let Miya in through the back, he led the boy to the back room of the store where a few chairs and a table were set out along the employee lockers. Returning with tea as Miya took a seat, Kojiro took the one across from him, a look of amusement plastered on his face. At least it was better than him pitying him.

After what felt like an eternity of being observed, Miya felt his breathing return to resting as his tears slowed. "Are you going to tell me what's up?" Looking up at the older man, he grabbed the handkerchief he offered in his outstretch hand slowly. "I know you're too good of a skater to get all of that from practice." Right, he probably looked like the garbage he was sitting next to in the alleyway.

Opening his mouth, Miya didn't really want to explain everything and even when he did get words out, his voice was hoarse from wailing, "My classmates..." Did what? Got beat to a pulp? Miya didn't finish the sentence.

Kojiro nodded, realizing Miya wasn't going to continue on, "Ah. You at least gave as good as you got, right? I can teach you a few techniques if you want."

Scoffing, Miya let out the poor imitation of a chuckle, "Like I wouldn't win against those losers. You should see how they look." Tracing the scratches on his knuckles, he winced a little at a particularly painful spot on his third finger. He hoped he didn't break a bone, he couldn't afford to be off his skateboard long enough for that to heal.

Letting out a hum of acknowledgement, Kojiro tapped his fingers on the table absentmindedly. "Your face doesn't really scream winner to me right now. So, something has to be up." Gritting his teeth, Miya didn't want to hear this from Kojiro. Even though he wasn't trying to forcefully pry into his life like Hiromi tended to do, he knew Kojiro asked him from a place of concern and that was just so annoying. No one went around asking Kaoru why he was moody all the time or asked Shadow why he got into fights with people. They were just concerned because they all thought of him as a child. He was a child.

As he was met with resounding silence, Kojiro leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I hear Langa is in town again." he finally offered with a knowing tone. Of course, Miya knew what this man was doing he was trying to poke the bear and you know what? It was working. He could already feel a vein threatening to pop at the mention of the Canadian.

Glaring back at him, Miya hated himself as the words fell out of his mouth without his permission, "You know, being fourteen is hard. I really want to grow up already."

Another sigh came from Kojiro as he rocked precariously back on two legs of his chair, "Trust me. It doesn't get any better once you turn thirty."

That really wasn't what he meant, "It's just, I never really had a chance, you know." How was Miya ever supposed to catch up to Reki and Langa. There were 4 years of distance that no amount of running would ever fill, "I'm not a fucking idiot. I knew there wasn't a chance but apparently I'm just…" choking on the last few words, Miya couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. He was just so eloquent today, wasn't he? Tears were already blurring his vision again and it was just what he needed, to have another pointless meltdown.

"Yeah, I know kid." As Kojiro reached over and rubbed his hand on Miya's back, Miya felt a bit of the tension relieve from the comforting warmth. "Sometimes it feels like you're always running to catch up but you're not actually moving forward. You're just getting left behind." Looking up to stare at the larger man, he didn't understand how it felt like his mind was being read. "It's just a feeling though. I'm not going to tell you all your feelings are wrong. Heh. I'm the worst person to be telling you that. It's just not worth beating yourself up over it. If you think you seem crazy now, I'm not calling you crazy I'm just saying if you feel crazy, you'll feel even crazier looking back knowing you were acting out and only you knew why."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"I don't if I'm the guy you'd usually try to emulate but just don't let the negative thoughts win. No matter what it seems like right now, those are only temporary and your relationship with everyone is more important right? You don't want to be the one running away instead of being ran from. Since high school I was always competing with Adam be it grades, skating, love…"

"But K--"

"But then I found out that I was struggling alone by myself. I wasn't even in a competition, I was just making everyone hate me. I can't say my relationship with Ainosuke and Kaoru improved with how I was acting. In the end I just ended up pushing them away and wasting a lot of valuable time I could have spent with them. I regret it and you shouldn't end up regretting your life."

It… was true. He knew there wasn't any competition in this race. Yet, he here he was struggling against it regardless, "I… I don't even know when I started feeling this way." Miya started despite himself. "I don't want--"

"Joe! Are you back there? We'll come over." As Reki's voice cut through from the front of the shop, Miya immediately clammed up.

Kojiro clicked his tongue. "Well, that's obviously Reki and Langa." Rolling his eyes, he looked towards the door to call out in hopes the excitable duo wouldn't come bursting in, "Just wait a moment, I'm coming out now!" Something told him he lost his chance to get anymore out of the boy so instead he just pushed in his chair, offering Miya a sorry look. "What about you?"

Following Kojiro's lead, Miya stood up but he didn't walk over to the door, instead making his way towards the window sill and staring down. It wasn't that much more of a drop compared to what he'd done out his bedroom window, he'd make it. The older man met his gaze understandingly but he "I know what you said. I just… don't think I'm ready." Looking down at his shoes, Miya slipped them on first as he perched on the window sill, "I've got X games practice tomorrow anyways."

Miya caught the tail end of a sigh before he could hear the waiting couple call out, "What's taking you so long? Don't you want to see Langa?" and he pushed himself out the window.

Once he arrived home, Miya took his normal route up the wall, over the balcony, and in through his second story window. Miya sneaked his way back into his bedroom with the quiet precision only the repetition of doing the same thing to go to S could only provide. There was no chance he was going through the front door right now and have his parents buzz all over him. Slipping off his shoes at the window, he'd just sneak down to the entrance later and add his shoes to the mix. Until then he could hear Kojiro's words echoing in his ears.

I wasn't even in a competition, I was just making everyone hate me.

Miya wasn't so fucking stupid he'd regret like him.

-----

The thing about the Olympics or the X games was it wasn't like skating at S. You never had to worry about anyone else. Instead it was just you with free reign of the playing field while you did trick after trick to score points. It wasn't like S's races where pure bulk gave you momentum like Joe or cheap tricks could save a performance like Shadow. Heck, you couldn't even bet on an optimized strategy like Cherry Blossom. Instead you had to have raw skill and talent like Miya himself.

Of course, that wasn't without practice either. Miya spent hours and hours perfecting his technique everyday and with this summer's X-games coming close it meant more time dedicated to the sport. Especially since this year the judges would be deciding spots for the national team. If Miya got in he'd no longer be a national hopeful or candidate or whatever they said, he'd be an actual competitor.

The fact that it coincided with Langa's visit back was just an unfortunate coincidence. The older man had to understand, after all, he knew what the thrill was landing a new trick. The look on others' faces in amazement. The way Reki insisted he'd want to try it too when it was particularly impressive.

A particularly poorly timed toeflip caused Miya's board to slip from under him. Shit. He had spent so much time these days focused on speed and turning for S, his technique was starting to suffer. It was just like math though. Repetition, repetition, repetition until his mind was filled with nothing but skating. Doing a shuvit or aerial spin had to become as reflexive as breathing. If he didn't stick to the grind he'd fall off during one.

"Miya, are you really not going to come skate with us while Langa's in town?" Miya had heard the disappointed question time and time again from Reki and Miya just repeated again and again how important his practice was. He's skate with Reki and Hiromi later, when everything was over. Just everything.

Practice was cathartic though. There was something about filling his mind with only skateboarding that made the rest of the world seen unimportant. The short spikes of adrenaline from air time had a way of melting away other thoughts and Miya couldn't help but throw himself into it at this point. Day after day, night after night, Miya stayed in the training warehouse trying to shave time off his techniques and burn them into his muscles. Frankly, his team had never seen him train this hard since he was in elementary school, since he started sneaking out to illegal street races.

To Miya it helped. These days he found himself even skipping school to do ollies on the practice ramps. When he wasn't skating his mind would wander. He could see messages lighting up his phone between runs that only made him want to put off things for longer. Push himself harder so nothing was on his mind but the qualifiers. He didn't have time for distractions. In a way, it was a little like it was before. Miya had never needed anyone else before. There was no reason to start now.

It made his coach happy. He hadn't seen Miya working this hard since he first started but really his coach didn't understand. Sometimes Miya wondered why he needed a coach. It wasn't like he was teaching Miya anything anymore and Miya choreographed his own routines. He didn't talk down to himself either. Just because his coach once stood in the same room as Tony Hawk did not mean he knew anything about execution. He learned more videotaping himself like Reki to see his flaws for himself.

Miya just needed to nail down his routines. The qualifiers were at the end of the week. He needed to ensure he optimized the amount of points he could get. Miya already knew he was the best in Okinawa but that didn't discount someone in Honshu being better. Even if that meant sacrificing his time with his friends they had to understand.

[going to the skate park if you want to join]

[watch langa eat shit]
[video attached]

[come on miya]

[r u free]

[skate with us]

[see u tmrw]

Tomorrow. The day he was training for... Qualifying matches. Miya laid awake in bet that night. Not because he was nervous. Why would he be fucking nervous? It was just a bunch of two-bit skaters wishing they had a 32-bit processor. His friends and family could come and he'd show them exactly how he could follow up his words. Yet, he just couldn't find the emptiness within him to just sleep. There was too much going on tomorrow.

-----

Miya stepped into the waiting area set aside for the National Team hopefuls who were too chicken to stand outside and watch. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at the competition. It seemed like all the others fell into two categories, the nervous noobs, doomed to be creep killed, and the overly confident Leeroy Jenkin's that were doomed to fail just like the famous Paladin himself. Kids of all ages were spread around the tent muttering to themselves or crowding around the tv showing the competition or just rocking themselves into a nervous frenzy. It was embaressing to say the least.

Taking an open seat on the far wall, Miya pulled out his game console from his hoodie pocket. Miya idly tapped away on his virtual village, his feet pushing and pulling on his board, and just watched each competitor's number get called. As they got closer and closer to his competitor ID, Miya could feel the anticipation revving in his bones. Each trembling teen looked more and more like fresh meat and he was the apex predator. Their blood in the water just made his competitive sense burn. When the last girl tripped leaving the tent, Miya fed off the nervous energy it spelled in the other kids.

Just as a mousey looking boy with a green streaked board returned to the tent looking more like the color of his ride, the overhead announcer called for competitor 7632 for the street competition. It was Miya's turn. Time to show the trash mob what real competition looked like.

Miya shoved his game into his pocket and left his hoodie on the chair in the mean time. He could practically feel the other competitors shrink away for him as he stepped into the arena, the bright light of the arena seemingly blinding as it shone down on his new kingdom. It was a basic bowl with various ledges, ramps and rails that were newly constructed for Japan's qualifiers. It meant that he didn't have to travel to the United States anymore just to compete, but also meant he had more chances to crush the competition and a new field to play around in, instead of the boring overused arena he was already growing used to. From all sides there were competitors and press, audience and newcasters, all ready to watch Miya be crowned king.

As Miya made his way to the center stage among the side of the biggest ramp along the edge of the bowl, Miya could feel the muscles in his face straining. From the starting position he could see his image on the big screen looking almost like he someone else. Was he smiling that much? He couldn't even stop himself if he wanted. His heart was pounding in his ears in time with the countdown.

Three

Two

One

Miya threw his board for a running start. Landing on it halfway down the dip of the ramp. Miya used that momentum to propel him along the far wall and up into a board spin. A lot of other competitors wasted time scoping out the environment, but when there were only 3 minutes to impress the judges, Miya wasn't going to waste a second of it.

As his wheels met pavement, Miya rode along the inner curve and let his body dip down to lead the board into a turn that brought him swiftly back up the other side of the bowl with so much momentum Miya found himself flipped. A less experienced skater would have probably lost control at that moment, instead Miya used it to grip the edge of the ramp, swinging his legs up in an arc and rising the board for a complete turn.

The speed of the board beneath his feet kept him shooting off once he made land and back onto his next trick. Using a toeslide to curb his momentum, Miya made his way to one of the fake staircases from the opposite direction, causing a confused gasp from the audience as he did an ollie just short of the top of the stairs, ending in an axel stall right at the top step. It was an ambitious move since it killed all of his momentum, but the risk made the reward so much more as he used his weight to jump back down to the bottom of the stairs and kicked off the ground back into action.

Heading straight for the next ramp of the bowl, the second spin of the set left Miya breathless with the adrenaline as he looked down at his competitors. He could feel the smile breaking out on his face as he landed back on the ground and directly into a board spin that brought shocked expression to his competitors. That was right, it was cute, what they were doing before, but they weren't really any competition for him. He'd let them know it too, flashing his smug confidence at the crowd he grinded past on the rail looping back to the halfpipe passed by the fence of observers.

Taking his last pass up the halfpipe, Miya took this last hang time to look at those farther back in the crowd. He could see Hiromi embarrassingly screaming in full facepaint like he was trying to start a mosh pit next to the extremely stoic Kaoru who looked like he was doing nothing more than just observing the news. Next to him he could see Kojiro's eyes trained on him, his arms crossed his puffed up chest that almost looked like he had more pride in him than his actual parents. The two of them just biting their nail beds in anticipation.

Part of Miya wondered what his parents were even worried about. Even if they knew next to nothing about skating, they had eyes. They could see his competition. If you want to call them that. There was nothing they had to worry about. If he could impress the other S competitors there was no way he'd lose. Langa had competition experience. If he thought Miya was good then who else even had a objective opinion. At that moment Langa was

There was a clatter as the wheels of his board grazed the edge of the bowl on his reentry, throwing Miya off balance forcing him forward, taking every bit of control he had not to flail his limbs and bring himself off balance.

It burned Miya from the inside out. He fucking saw it.

With what momentum and instinct he had, he pushed the board in the same direction his body was falling, just barely grasping at it with his fingers in some semblance of a kickflip grab. He felt the tips of his gloves catching slightly in the wheels in the process slowing him down.

Those two "adults" couldn't even reasonably keep their hands off each other when they were fucking surrounded.

It was the worst form in a trick he did all set but Miya stayed on his board so it wasn't the worst.

Langa's face was hidden in Reki's neck

He'd probably get docked points for it but he had to finish things up.

and his hands were trailing up his shirt from behind.

He didn't have time or momentum to finish his set as planned so he'd just have to wing it.

Reki's exasperated expression didn't mean anything

Ground tricks were luckily one of his specialties.

when he had a gasping clasp on the Canadian's thigh.

His new goal was to end time on center stage where he started and pretend he wanted that.

They weren't even paying attention to the reason why they were there in the first place.

Utilizing techniques he learned from S, Miya leaned into his speed skills,

If things were going to be like that, why did they even come?

hopping off of park structures to push momentum in stylized ways.

He obviously didn't need them.

Would he even be allowed to be scored on unofficial tricks?

What did he even need those guys for anyways? You had to be weak for that.

He skidded to pose just as the timer cleared, chest heaving from exertion.

You had to be an naïve to trust Langa Hasegawa to care about you.

Miya could see his image now reflected on the jumbotron. The boy on the screen was just a ghost of the happy figure who started.

You had to be an idiot to convince yourself you were in love with Reki Kyan.

He didn't look happy. The scowl on his face somehow looked more at home on him than his earlier smile.

And Miya Chinen isn't, wasn't, and will never be a fucking idiot.