The arena was steeped in a silence heavy with anticipation. Spotlights blazed down like a thousand watchful eyes, scattering across the polished surface of the ice, shimmering brighter than ever. Only moments remained before the announcer's voice would call out "Maya and Lucas." Their breaths quickened, beating in rhythm with the drum-like thud of their hearts.
Just before stepping onto the rink, Maya performed the old ritual her grandmother had once taught her. She let her palm glide softly across the cold ice. The pure chill surged from her fingertips deep into her chest. Then, with an almost sacred composure, she placed her hand over her heart—as if renewing a silent vow with herself, with her past, and with the future ahead.
The gesture didn't go unnoticed. Coach Lian raised an eyebrow again, silent yet intrigued. He knew better than most that sometimes traditions carried the very soul of a performance.
Lucas, with his usual mischief, glanced at her and grinned wide.
"Every time you do that, I swear it feels like you're about to step into a wrestling ring, not the rink."
Maya smirked faintly, but her voice was steady.
"Cut it out, Lucas. This isn't the time for jokes. We need to give our very best."
Lucas stifled his laugh, nodding in mock defeat.
"Alright, Miss Serious."
Their names echoed through the arena. The audience hushed instantly. The sharp sound of their blades clicking against the ice was all that filled the silence as they glided to the center. Fingers intertwined, they took their stance. Then the music began.
The first notes flowed—a soft, classical melody, calm yet charged with promise. Maya lifted her arm gracefully, spinning into the opening move. Lucas matched her instantly. Their eyes locked, telling a story of passion and devotion carved into every movement upon the ice.
The sequence of opening jumps unfolded flawlessly. Maya's triple Lutz—once a stumbling block in countless practices—landed with such precision that a ripple of applause broke out among the audience. Lucas followed seamlessly with a combination jump, and together they glided as if they were perfect reflections of one another.
Every detail was exact: the subtle carriage of their arms, the fleeting yet deliberate glances, all timed with the music's ebb and swell. Even their breathing seemed woven into the rhythm. With each rapid spin, Maya's hair danced around her, while Lucas, steady as a guardian, shadowed her every move.
On the sidelines, Lian watched with a proud smile. The former coach, standing beside him, leaned closer and whispered in awe,
"How did you ever get the two of them this synchronized? They nearly drove me insane."
Lian's eyes never left the rink. His voice brimmed with confidence.
"I have my own ways."
The music swelled toward its climax. Together, Lucas lifted Maya high, her body soaring like a bird before twisting gracefully in mid-air. For a single breathless moment, the entire arena went silent. Then, as she landed with the precision of a falling feather, applause erupted like thunder.
Their finale—a synchronized spin—was a vision of unity. Two bodies, two souls, yet revolving as though they were one. The last note faded, and the pair bowed deeply, hearts racing.
The arena exploded in cheers. Spectators, fellow skaters, even the coaches rose to their feet in applause. Maya and Lucas, faces flushed with sweat and exhilaration, stepped off the ice. Lucas caught her hand, squeezing it tight.
"That was incredible… thank you."
Maya smiled faintly, her silence speaking louder than words.
They unlaced their skates and moved toward the benches. Passing Zimo, Maya didn't so much as flick her gaze in his direction. Lucas, however, couldn't resist tossing him a quick, cheeky wink. Zimo returned a smile, but Lusi, who witnessed the exchange, frowned in puzzlement. She didn't understand what she'd just seen, but doubt sparked quietly in her mind.
One by one, the remaining performances ended. Breathless anticipation filled the air as the rankings were announced.
"First place… Maya and Lucas!"
The declaration rang clear. Applause and cheers erupted as the arena celebrated them. Lian rushed forward, his eyes gleaming.
"I knew you two were good, but I'll admit—I didn't expect you to take first place. Lucas, your position for the Olympic trials is basically secured. And you, Maya… if you keep performing like this, you may very well earn your place in the trials too."
Lucas puffed out his chest with pride.
"Of course I'll make it to the trials. I'm Lucas, after all."
Maya laughed, shaking her head.
"Back to factory settings again."
Lian chuckled, retreating toward his office. Yet a spark lingered in his eyes, questions gnawing quietly at the back of his mind.
That night in the dormitory, the atmosphere was subdued. While some skaters still buzzed from the excitement of the competition, Sophia sat withdrawn, shadows clouding her expression. Her defeat weighed heavily on her.
Maya joined her side gently.
"Sophia, you still have another chance. You can prove yourself."
Sophia's voice was hollow.
"But I've lost hope. The same thing happened years ago…"
Maya gripped her hand firmly.
"Don't say that. I know you'll shine in the next round. Right, Lusi?"
Lost in thought, Lusi barely reacted.
"Hm? What?"
Maya repeated, more pointed this time.
"I said Sophia can still prove herself in the next competition, move her ranking higher."
Lusi hesitated, then nodded vaguely.
"Yeah… she can."
Maya studied her curiously.
"You okay? You seem… distracted."
Lusi lowered her gaze.
"It's nothing. Just… two weeks ago, I thought I saw Lucas arguing with Zimo. But today…"
Maya cut her off quickly.
"Yeah, they had a small argument. Nothing important."
"Uh-huh… if you say so," Lusi murmured, though suspicion lingered in her tone.
The following day, Lian sat at his desk, but his mind refused to rest. The image of Maya's ritual haunted him—her palm brushing the ice, her hand pressed to her heart. What did it mean to her? Could it truly be only a family tradition? Or was something deeper hidden within it?
He rose, drifting toward the window. Below, the rink was alive with skaters. Among them, Maya, Lusi, and Sophia stood together, chatting animatedly.
Maya's voice carried, full of energy.
"Sophia, we'll help you. You can nail a strong solo program."
Lusi nodded encouragingly.
"Right. You only struggle a little with your Lutz."
Maya laughed lightly.
"Remember how awful mine used to be? Total disaster! But I got it eventually."
Sophia sighed.
"You're different. You've got motivation. Me? I only started skating because my parents wanted me to. They always dreamed I'd skate."
Maya's expression softened, but her tone was firm.
"No, you love it too. You're just upset about yesterday's performance. Don't let that cloud how you really feel."
Sophia shrugged, uncertain.
"Well… without passion, it's impossible. But… I don't know."
Lusi's eyes steadied on her.
"Don't doubt yourself. You can do this."
The rink echoed with their voices and laughter. Yet above them, in the office, Lian remained still by the window. His thoughts circled endlessly. That simple gesture of Maya's—the touch to the ice, the hand over the heart—held a secret. And he was determined to uncover it.
He pushed the window open and called out, his voice sharp across the rink.
"Maya! Come to my office for a moment."
Maya startled, glancing at her friends.
"What now? Think he's going to scold me again?"
Lusi smirked.
"After yesterday's performance? Doubt it."
Sophia giggled softly, easing the tension.
Maya exhaled, resigned.
"Alright… guess I'll find out."
She climbed the stairs, pausing at the wooden door. Knocking lightly, she waited.
"Come in."
The office smelled faintly of ink and old paper, mingled with the lingering chill from the rink below. Lian sat behind his desk, sorting papers, but looked up as she entered. With a subtle gesture, he invited her to sit.
"You wanted to see me, Coach?"
"Yes. Sit. I want to talk about yesterday's competition."
Maya sat, cautious.
"Yesterday you and Lucas gave an extraordinary performance. One of the best pair programs this rink has ever seen. Honestly, I was surprised you took first place."
Maya smiled faintly.
"It was all thanks to you, Coach."
Something softened in Lian's gaze. His lips twitched into a fleeting smile.
"So, all my yelling finally paid off, huh?"
Maya chuckled, some of her tension easing.
"But listen," Lian continued, his voice turning practical. "For the next competition, you'll have both a solo routine and a pair program. But this time, it's different. Each skater must choose their own partner. Which means, you need to start paying attention. Build trust, make connections. You'll want to be sure someone chooses you back."
Maya froze a moment, thoughts instantly drifting to Lucas.
"Understood. Thanks for letting me know in advance."
She rose to leave, but Lian's quiet voice stopped her.
"Maya… that gesture you always do before stepping onto the ice. Touching the ice, then your heart. Why?"
Maya blinked, then softened.
"It's an old ritual. My grandmother taught me from the very first day she put me on skates. She said I should always show respect to the ice—feel it with my heart. For me, it's like a vow… a promise I renew before every performance."
Lian stared, silent. His gaze deepened, thoughts flickering behind his eyes, as if some long-buried memory stirred awake.
Maya shifted uneasily.
"Coach? Can I go now?"
"Yes… you may go."
She reached for the door, but once again his voice halted her.
"You said… your grandmother's name?"
Maya turned back.
"Lisha. Her name was Lisha."
Lian dropped his eyes to the papers on his desk, arranging them absently.
"Alright. You can go."
Maya stepped out, the door closing softly behind her.
For a long moment, silence weighed heavy in the office. Then, Lian let the papers slip from his hands, scattering across the desk.
His whisper was barely audible.
"Strange… how could it be? Two people, sharing the same belief…"
His hands pressed against the desk as his eyes fixed on nothing. The past he had buried for years was stirring again, creeping back into the light.