Chapter Text
When Etoiles left his house, the cold bit his skin immediately, and he almost regretted not having taken gloves or a scarf. But he also had to admit it, he disliked looking like a snowman wrapped up from head to toe. First of all because it severely limits the slightest of his movements, and second of all, because it frankly made him look ridiculous.
So the young man swallowed his pride and natural instinct to complain, and he headed towards the skate-rink. He knew this path by heart, and with the imminent arrival of the festivity, the streets were now strewn with green, red and white lights, christmas trees decorated and cheerful drawings on the windows of the stores.
It was early, yet people were already wandering the streets, observing with soft eyes the decorations on the buildings, pointing at the many santa claus placed everywhere. When he passed in front of a park, he even noticed some children throwing snowballs made of powder snow at each other.
He couldn’t help but look up at the skies.
Etoiles was anything but filled with Christmas spirit these few days.
He was supposed to join his team as soon as possible at the ice rink to spend a whole day training.
When he finally pushed the thick door of the building, a familiar icy air greeted him. Part of him was happy to see the ice stretching in front of him, and to tell himself that today at least, he had the chance to have all this entirely for them.
While sitting down on one of the benches, he took off his jacket and stretched his body before starting to put on his black mask and then his skates. The blades of the shoes reflected in the light of the neon above him as he let his gaze drift on this place so comforting.
The love of winter sports had brought them all together, and today, it was precisely what separated them. He checked his blades and tightened a little more the laces of his skates before engaging on the ice, taking a big bowl of fresh air.
A new director had taken over Cucurucho’s duties, and he directed the rink and the participants with an iron fist. And to celebrate his arrival, he had organized a severe and harsh competition for all those who wanted to participate.
Three teams had stood out, and Etoiles was the leader of one of them.
And without wanting to seem arrogant, he loved it.
He had rushed at the inscriptions when he understood that it wasn’t a question of making elegant pirouettes while wearing a glittery leotard, but that they were instead real fights on ice. And that, it was totally his thing.
Etoiles was one of those who didn’t start by doing classic ice-skating, no. He was mainly a hockey player, and he still remembers the first time he saw real ice skates, very different from the skates he used in his sport. He had found them so thin, so fragile, as if a harsh movement on the ice could have split them in half.
It was the same thing for Philza, a leader of an opposing team or Roier, one of his teammates. They had long been very good hockey players before throwing themselves into this competition. For Baghera, one of his close friends, it was different, she had first perfected her talents with another sport: skating. She was the one who introduced him to Cellbit when they all ended up on the ice.
Then he had met some, and others until they all knew each other.
The fact that this rink was the only rink around must have had something to do with it too.
As he made some turns on the ice still immaculate of traces, he took advantage to send some messages to his team. These last few days, the participants were granted a training day, where only their teams were allowed on the ice. Etoiles intended to use this advantage to train as much as possible.
Losing was definitely not an option for him.
When he looked up, however, he understood that something was wrong.
Some green players were really there, ready to start, like Roier who greeted him from afar or Bagi who was already preparing her skates. But there were mainly red players who were already about to enter the rink.
Etoiles held back a sigh at the last moment. He noticed Philza stretching across the ice, visibly just as confused about the green team’s presence in the rink. The French came to meet him in just a few strides.
“Phil, what exactly is going on?” his blue eyes turned towards the other people stepping in the ice, he could already see from the corner of his eye the opponents gazing at each other with taunt. “What the hell is this?”
“It’s up to you to tell me, the director assured me that it was the red team’s turn to train today,” the blond gave a killer look at the desk overlooking the ice rink. He wore a green hat with white stripes, his skates were of the same color.
“He literally told me yesterday that it was our turn” looking at each other, the two leaders quickly understood that they had both been fooled.
A silhouette launched at full speed almost hit him, and when he turned, ready to retaliate, he saw blond hair colored in pink and blue eyes gazing at him with malice.
“I told you, you’re not fast enough bijou!” it was unsurprising Baghera who even dared to stick out her tongue, before, taking advantage of the almost empty ice rink, do a quick axel.
Before he could respond, another person passed by him, less quickly, but his chain of chaotic combinations made Etoiles recognize him immediately.
No one does a triple jump right after a flip jump before stepping away in crosscut.
Nobody, except Slimecicle of course.
“The rink is ours, go home, losers!” Slime burst out laughing as he joined his teammate on the ice.
The French rolled his eyes, holding back a scoff. It took much more than two immature skaters to intimidate or upset him.
He allowed himself to turn towards Philza, frowning slightly.
“Don’t you want to hold your team a little?”
“Believe me, I’m trying” the man gave a long sigh while shrugging his shoulders, passing a hand over his face, “I feel like a single father taking care of rowdy teenagers”
“It must be a leader problem” nodded a voice next to them that turned out to be Tubbo. His tousled brown and blonde hair was sticking out of his scarf.
“They are fucking with us” Etoiles could see from the corner of his eye the blue team who arrived as well.
The three leaders were about to find a way to handle an ice rink filled with young people who wanted only one thing : to exercise in order to win, when a shadow was discerned in the director’s office.
The Watcher.
They all started calling him like that because of his mysterious appearance, to say the least, and especially because it was the only thing he ever did. Watch.
The shadow was large, a black suit, two eyes staring at them with a neutral expression. And this simple gaze stopped all debate.
The fact that the three teams were together at this very moment, it wasn’t a mistake, it was intentional.
Etoiles took a deep breath and he ended up leaving his two friends, they all knew they had no choice in the matter anyway.
So they began to practice, perform figures, try different approaches. Unsurprisingly, some ended up having fun by annoying the others. Badboyhalo spent several minutes terrorizing the red team under Tubbo’s tired eye. Slimecicle and ElMariana were skating next to each other, sometimes trying to jostle, sometimes trying to catch up with each other. These were not the only ones, Roier and Cellbit had found a quieter spot on the ice to practice some tricks while flirting abundantly.
The leader of the green team had to resign himself and let them be, he didn’t feel like interrupting the couple swimming in sentimentality. He had something else in mind.
The competition, the organization of the fights, he also had to find a way to gain more points, he knew that his team was lagging behind, and waiting longer would be condemning them. He continued to skate, his eyes sometimes fixed on the ice that his skates would split, sometimes on a fixed point in front of him.
Then, a shock.
He bumped head first into something.
He lost his balance and his feet tangled before he fell. He felt under his fingers the biting cold of the ice and its rough and sharp texture. The power of the impact made his vision blurred for a few seconds, and several voices echoed suddenly around him.
Roier’s accent rose as he finally opened his eyes, his body still half on the ground.
“Admit it, you wanted to kill our leader!” there was neither anger nor reproach in the voice of his Mexican teammate, he also soon felt his hand on his shoulder. “That’s very low, even for your team, Tubbo”
“It was an accident!” the voice of the blue leader also rang out, and it was at that moment that Etoiles finally managed to see clearly, “And Etoiles wasn’t looking nor paying attention, does your mask serve you as a blinker or what?"
The French held back his teammate at the last moment, ready to respond to Tubbo, and he managed without any difficulty to get back on his skates.
The mask he was talking about was nothing but a thin black fabric that he always wore when he skated. It was one of his principles, nothing more. And this simple piece of cloth was one of his most precious possessions.
But he didn’t pay more attention than that, since he soon realized what exactly he bumped into. Or rather, who.
And his eyes widened.
It was a young man whom he had met before, but he somehow couldn’t recall his name.
Dark brown hair, verging on black, with some old blue highlights. There were small pieces of snowflakes, striking in the dark locks. Two brown eyes that looked at his leader to reassure him. A smile garnished with straight, white teeth bloomed on his lips when he finally got up.
Etoiles’ brain seemed to slow down until it froze, like characters falling into icy water in cartoons.
The young man, more polite, approached him with a few slight movements of the leg, sliding on the ice. He wore a worried expression.
“Sinto muito, I really wasn’t looking where I was going” judging by his accent and the language he spoke, he must be Brazilian, “Didn’t you hurt yourself or less?”
“Because it would have been convenient for you, huh, that the most talented leader gets hurt just before the finals!” threw his teammate Roier in the face of the young man, without being aggressive, only extremely dramatic.
“The most talented leader?” Tubbo scoffed as he looked up at the skies, “You have some nerve!”
While the two idiots continued to bicker, Etoiles took the opportunity to restart his entire mind. He looked at the stranger and he offered his hand, giving him a smile that was meant to be natural.
He still couldn”t remember his name.
“No, I'm sorry, it’s me who wasn’t paying much attention of what was happening around me” he cursed himself silently for not having done that earlier, he must have looked like a complete fool, “I hope you’re alright”
“Yes, yes, not even a scratch” the Brazilian hesitated before taking his hand as well and shaking it. “We’re okay Etoiles, don’t worry”
The leader felt a shiver run through his body when his hand touched his.
He was used to having cold hands, which was only logical : he never wore gloves and spent most of his time at the ice rink. But the hands of the young man were quite the opposite.
They were almost piping hot.
The contrast stopped them in their gesture for a second.
“Venga Elotes, we’re not going to get bullied like that!” before he could say anything, Roier had already pulled him further away, almost tearing him from the stranger.
“We are going to crush you!” laughed Tubbo behind them as they walked away, their skates screeching on the ice.
Etoiles couldn’t say much more, and he had let the Mexican drive him away.
They continued to train of course, the teams being unable to stop messing with each other, but the leader had to admit that he hardly cared.
He promised himself to ask his teammates what the name of the stranger was. It intrigued him more than he wanted to admit.