60. Kai
Kai
The arena hums with bodies packed shoulder to shoulder, their energy electric and infectious. The smell of popcorn, cold air, and rubber mingle together in that way that only exists inside a rink. Sticks clatter. Someone takes a hit twenty feet to my left and the crowd surges.
People always talk about the sound. The deafening volume of the crowd, the clang of the puck off the post, the sharp hiss of blades scraping against ice.
And the unmistakable thud of heavy bodies into boards.
But tonight, all that is drowned out by the momentary silence and peace I feel when I spot them.
I look up into the stands and my eyes are instantly drawn to them like an unescapable magnetic force.
She points to me and waves, trying to show Akio and Emma exactly where I am.
When he makes the realization, he starts waving furiously.
Kendall and Akio are here for me and it means everything.
I wave back and blow them a kiss and I couldn’t care less about the shit I’m going to get for it later in the locker room.
***
Coach barks orders from somewhere behind me but I don’t catch them. The only thing I can see is their faces. She’s radiating warmth, love, and pure joy. Kendall looks ecstatic in a way I haven’t seen in a long time, their smiles bright and contagious.
I blink and turn around with considerable effort, focusing my energy and attention back to the face off. It’s the third period of the game and we’re tied. Four minutes remain on the clock.
It's the kind of shift that feels inevitable when everything clicks, when your edges are sharp and your reads are a half-second faster than everyone else's. I've put in ten thousand hours to make four minutes look effortless.
No pressure or anything.
Once I win the draw, it’s automatic, seamless, muscle memory. I pass to Jonah on my left, thunder down the side, and rush the net. I know this game—its pace, its rhythm—like the back of my hand, like I know the sound of her voice or the shape of Akio's smile. They’re all tattooed on my heart.
When I get the puck back in my possession, I don't even have to think about it. I send it flying past the goalie and into the net. The goal light flares red and the horn swallows the entire arena whole. The glass shakes. The ice vibrates beneath my skates.
GOAL.
My teammates attack me, rioting and yelling, sticks knocking against helmets and pads.
I’ve played one of the best games of my fucking life and we won. It’s no surprise I played my ass off. I wanted to make both Kendall and Akio proud. I also hope this marks the first of many games they’ll attend.
The locker room is loud and hot. It smells like sweat and adrenaline and the sharp bite of athletic tape. Gear hits the floor in heavy chunks. Someone's got music blasting from a phone shoved inside a helmet.
“You were on fire tonight, Matsumoto,” Jonah comments, snapping a towel on my back. “What’s the move, we celebrating?” he asks, eyebrows raised.
“Fuck yes. I think we’re all going to dinner at La Vela. Like 8ish? I’m sure some people will hit the bar after.”
“I’ll meet you guys there,” he replies before making his way into the shower.
“So, La Vela? At 8?” Jax wonders skeptically.
“Yupp.”
“And I’m supposed to be meeting one of Kendall’s friends?” he asks, lowering his voice to a hush.
“Uh huh.” I pause, furrowing my brows. “What, are you nervous, 48? I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl you couldn’t charm, Brandi.”
“Yeah, well charming them is one thing. Dating is another,” he grumbles.
“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. It’s casual.
Okay? And Emma is super cool, down to earth.
” I catch his gaze and he still looks slightly concerned.
Okay, definitely nervous. “But maybe have a drink or two before. Liquid courage never hurts,” I suggest lightly.
He nods but I’m not entirely convinced he heard me.