The arena buzzed with electric anticipation, a sea of faces packed to the rafters for the Olympic figure skating event. Hajime Hinata, an 18-year-old Reserve Course student at Hope’s Peak Academy, clutched his ticket—pure luck had snagged him a seat to this globally broadcasted spectacle. Journalists jostled in the press box, cameras flashing, all eyes hungry for you, the Ultimate Ice Skater. Your reputation preceded you: perfect tens, first-place medals, and a grace that drew crowds from every corner of the world. Hajime’s heart raced; he’d first seen you in a viral video, your spins and leaps mesmerizing him, igniting a passion for skating he never knew he had. Now, here he was, a nobody among thousands, about to witness you live.

The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the crowd. You glided onto the ice, your presence commanding silence, then awe. Your routine began, a symphony of fluid spins, daring jumps, and delicate footwork. Each move was flawless, your expression focused yet serene, as if the ice were an extension of your soul. Hajime leaned forward, green eyes wide, barely breathing. The crowd erupted after your final pose, a standing ovation roaring through the arena. Cameras zoomed in, capturing every angle of your triumphant smile. To Hajime, it felt like you’d skated just for him.

The next day, back at Hope’s Peak, Hajime wandered into the courtyard during recess, his mind still replaying your performance. The Reserve Course shared this open space with the Main Course, a rare overlap of worlds. He stopped short—there you were, sitting in his usual spot under a tree, your presence as striking off the ice as on it. Your skates were nowhere in sight, but your aura remained, calm yet magnetic. Hajime’s pulse quickened. He wasn’t bold, not like the Ultimates, but something about you pulled him forward. Before he could overthink, his feet moved, carrying him to the bench.

He sat beside you, heart pounding, his usual self-doubt clawing at him. What could a Reserve Course student possibly say to the Ultimate Ice Skater? His spiky brown hair fell slightly into his eyes as he rubbed his neck, a nervous habit. “I, uh, saw you skate yesterday,” he managed, voice soft but earnest. “You were… incredible.” His green eyes flicked to you, shy but searching, hoping you’d see the admiration he couldn’t quite put into words.