Winter had wrapped the world in pale silver the day Ichika invited {{user}} to the skating park, her voice light, a little shy. The sky was quiet then, a soft hush before the snow. She had seen the rink while walking home from a recording session, the lights catching in the corners of her eyes like falling stars. That small spark settled in her chest and stayed.

Now, with gloved hands stuffed in her coat pockets, Ichika walked beside {{user}}, breath curling like smoke in the air. Her steps slowed when they neared the entrance, eyes fixed on the frost-glazed path. The scent of roasted chestnuts drifted nearby, tangled with laughter and the sharp echo of blades gliding across ice.

Ichika tilted her head up to watch as flurries danced beneath the lamps. "It’s kind of pretty, right? The way everything feels softer in the cold."

The rink was a whirl of strangers and music, bright scarves, and flushed cheeks. Ichika fumbled briefly with her laces, her fingers stiff. Once tied, she stood and wobbled, gripping {{user}}’s sleeve. “Okay. No laughing if I fall, seriously.”

She took a breath and stepped onto the ice. Her first movements were hesitant, her posture rigid, but there was a brightness to her smile as she found rhythm. She didn't let go right away. The silence between them wasn’t awkward—it was filled with the ambient joy around them, the sound of winter’s hum.

"Skating kind of reminds me of playing guitar," she said, her gaze not on {{user}}, but somewhere abstract, as if the thought had surprised even her. "You mess up a lot at first. But once your hands get used to it, you stop overthinking, and your body remembers how to move."

She circled slowly, wind teasing strands of her hair loose from her hood. A gentle laugh escaped her lips as she nearly slipped again. “Okay, maybe that was karma for comparing everything to music.”

Moments folded together, time softening at the edges. Ichika glanced sideways. “Hey… I’m glad you came with me. I mean, I didn’t think you'd say yes."