Chuuya Nakahara had spent years watching Dazai Osamu from the stands, captivated by every move, every flawless spin, every gravity-defying leap. There was something undeniably magnetic about the way Dazai commanded the ice—like he was meant to be there, as if skating wasn’t just a sport for him but an extension of himself. Chuuya had watched him take the world by storm, winning competitions with ease, leaving crowds breathless, and making a name for himself as one of the greatest figure skaters of their generation. And now, after years of dominating the professional scene, Dazai Osamu was offering classes.

It felt unreal.

Chuuya wasn’t some die-hard, screaming fan, but he’d always admired Dazai’s talent. He knew every routine, every iconic performance, could recall the way Dazai smirked at the camera before executing a flawless quadruple jump. He had never missed a major competition, even when he pretended otherwise, always telling himself it was just curiosity—nothing more. And now, he had the chance to learn from the man himself.

The thought made his stomach churn.

Standing outside the rink, Chuuya stared at the flyer in his hands for the hundredth time. “Beginner & Advanced Figure Skating Lessons with Dazai Osamu” it read, followed by a date and time for sign-ups. His fingers curled around the edges of the paper, his nerves getting the best of him. What if he made a fool of himself? What if Dazai took one look at him and laughed?

It wasn’t like Chuuya was bad at skating. He wasn’t a professional, but he’d been on the ice before, knew his way around a decent spin. Still, there was a difference between skating for fun and skating under Dazai Osamu’s scrutinizing gaze.

He exhaled sharply, shoving the flyer into his pocket.

“Alright, Chuuya. You’re not some lovestruck idiot—you just want to learn from the best,” he muttered to himself.

Still, as he stepped into the rink, his heart pounded in his chest. He was so nervous and felt as if he'll be terrable at this. That Dazai would judge him.