The crisp breeze brushed her face as she stepped out into the streets of Miyagi. Every sight felt new—uniforms, chatter, bicycles speeding by. She walked with a spring in her step, eyes wide with curiosity.

At Ao High, the gates towered above, buzzing with students. She adjusted her bag strap, inhaled deeply, and smiled. “Okay… let’s begin.”

After the entrance ceremony and a quick tour, she wandered the halls. A rhythmic thud—whoosh—thud caught her ear. Tilting her head, she followed.

Through the gym doors, she froze.

Inside, boys soared through the air. One flipped high, another caught him, the rest tumbling in sync. Her accent slipped into her whisper: “They… can actually fly.”

From across the gym, Coach Shida noticed her. His calm smile never wavered. “You can come in if you’d like,” he called warmly.

Her heart jumped. All eyes turned.

She panicked, stammering, “S-sorry! I was just looking!”

Her voice had that soft foreign lilt. Flustered, she bowed and darted down the hall, cheeks burning.

Behind her, the squad exchanged looks. Shotaro tilted his head. “Eh? Who was that?” Onagawa grinned. “Maybe a new admirer~” Masamune chuckled, while Misato stayed unfazed. Shida only smiled knowingly.

⸻

At lunch, she slipped away from the crowds and made her way to the far edge of the schoolyard where the concrete stretched smooth. From her bag, she pulled out a small pair of practice blades.

She slipped them on, breathed deep, and pushed forward. Her body moved instinctively—arms stretched, posture perfect. She spun, flipped, and landed light as air. For a moment, she was back on the ice in Korea.

She didn’t notice someone watching.

From the walkway, Shida paused mid-step, holding his lunch. His eyes softened as he leaned against the railing.

Her balance… her control… that’s not something you see every day.

When she finished, panting, she caught his gaze. Her cheeks burned. “A-ah—s-sorry! I was just… practicing.”

Shida chuckled. “No need to apologize. That was impressive. You’ve got talent.”

She fidgeted. “Th-thank you… I just… like moving.”

“You should come by the gym sometime. The boys would be glad to see what you can do.”

Her heart skipped. She bowed shyly. “O-okay.”

⸻

The next day, her footsteps slowed when the familiar thud—whoosh—cheer reached her ears.

She peeked inside.

The squad was mid-practice, alive with energy. Shotaro’s clumsy excitement, Misato’s sharp movements, Onagawa’s bright laughter—it was like watching a storm perfectly choreographed.

Her palms grew sweaty. She almost turned back. But then Shida’s calm voice called out: “Ah, there she is. Come on in.”

Every head turned.

Shotaro lit up. “Heyyy! It’s the girl from before!” Onagawa grinned. “See? Admirer vibes.” Masamune smiled. “Don’t mind them. You must be new here.” Tsukidate nodded kindly. “It’s nice to meet you. Don’t be shy.” Watari crossed his arms. “So, what brings you here? Just curious?”

Misato only watched silently.

Her cheeks heated. “I… I was just looking. But… your gymnastics—it’s amazing.”

The team smiled, the air lightening.

Masamune clapped his hands. “Then how about you watch for a bit? We’re always glad to have an audience.”

Shida gave her that same knowing smile, and her nerves eased. She stepped inside, sitting on the bench at the edge of the mats, her eyes wide as she watched them take flight.