Chapter 24 #2
Watching the pairs and ice dancers later tonight would probably hurt a little.
Singles skating was beautiful, yes, but pair skating had always felt more alive to her — the throws, the lifts, the terrifying trust between two people balancing their bodies together over cold, deadly ice.
Ice dance fascinated her too, though differently; ice dancers focused far more on storytelling and artistry than on dangerous technical tricks.
Sometimes it looked less like sport and more like theater performed on blades.
And maybe that was why Alisa envied them a little now, because she no longer skated in pairs at all. And somewhere deep inside, it still hurt.
Eventually Alisa and Tora escaped the lounge for a while because, frankly, after watching nearly thirty men throw themselves across the ice, their asses were numb from sitting.
Tora grabbed Alisa gently by the elbow and pulled her toward the exit from the athletes’ section.
“Do you want to run away on a date tonight in Milan?” Tora asked casually.
Alisa looked back at the arena for a second, at the lights, the screens, the endless noise and pressure and Olympic anxiety suffocating her lungs, and suddenly realized that yes, she desperately wanted to escape. Even if only for a few hours.
“Yes… let’s go. Where do you want to go?”
“Let’s just go to the center and figure it out there,” Tora suggested with a smile, intertwining their hands again. “I want some fresh air.”
And honestly, Alisa needed it too.
As Tora pulled her out of the arena and into the evening city, Alisa finally let herself exhale fully for what felt like the first time in days.
They reached the Arco della Pace, and the arch looked enormous up close, glowing softly against the dark Milan evening.
“Let’s take a picture,” Tora suggested suddenly, pulling a small camera out of her handbag.
Alisa immediately raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, where did you get that? Wait… does it print film instantly?”
There really was a slot at the top for instant photos.
“I bought it years ago,” Tora explained, biting her lip slightly as she adjusted the angle and checked the tiny mirror near the lens. “But I barely use it… only for really special moments.”
Something about that sentence made Alisa’s chest tighten warmly.
“So,” Tora murmured, lifting the camera higher, “I think the arch fits perfectly. Come closer.”
Alisa stepped beside her and wrapped an arm gently around Tora’s waist while Tora started counting dramatically.
“One… two… three—”
At the last second, Alisa turned and kissed her cheek instead.
Tora gasped loudly.
“Oh, you sneaky girl!” she burst into laughter.
She immediately flipped the camera around to inspect the frozen frame on the tiny screen. Honestly, it came out adorable. Without hesitation, Tora pressed the print button.
The camera whirred and buzzed mechanically before the little square photo slowly slid from the slot. Colors began appearing gradually — yellow first, then blue, red, purple — until the image fully developed into a vivid photograph.
Tora stared at it proudly before showing it to Alisa.
“Cute!”
“Cute,” Tora agreed immediately, slipping the photo carefully into her pocket.
“Another one for you?”
Alisa pursed her lips thoughtfully before nodding.
They posed again, Alisa’s hand still resting against Tora’s waist. But this time, just as Tora raised the camera, she turned toward Alisa instinctively and Alisa mirrored the movement, their lips meeting directly in front of the lens.
“You wanted to kiss my cheek too!” Alisa giggled against her lips.
Tora laughed back softly. “Well… this is honestly better than what I had planned.”
This time Tora did not even check the preview. She immediately pressed print, wanting the final image to stay a surprise.
While the camera slowly processed the photo, Tora turned back toward Alisa and kissed her again with these soft little kisses against her lips, smiling between them.
Alisa tasted warm and sweet somehow, like summer evenings and recklessness and the kind of happiness that made you forget the rest of the world existed.
To Tora, Alisa embodied this fierce, fragile feminine strength that constantly survived despite everything trying to break her apart.
And to Alisa, Tora was still something dangerously close to a goddess.
Maybe that was why they fit together so naturally.
“Fuck, I missed you so much, Alisa…” Tora murmured quietly between those small, sloppy kisses, and Alisa nodded with her eyes closed, almost trying to hide the tears that desperately threatened to spill from her eyes and set her emotions free.
The camera hummed again behind them, and the finished photo finally slid out.
The shot came out almost absurdly perfect, the arch behind them blurred softly into glowing lights while they remained sharply in focus, kissing in the center of the frame.
Tora looked at the photo for a second, visibly delighted, before flipping it over and pressing a lipstick kiss onto the back of it.
Then she handed it to Alisa.
Alisa smiled helplessly as she took the photo and slipped it carefully into the pocket of her jacket, as if it were something fragile enough to break if handled incorrectly.
They walked deeper into the park, away from the arch, still hand in hand, letting the night air wrap around them.
The city felt almost alive in a different way after dark, it was so much quieter and softer, like it only revealed itself properly once the daytime crowds disappeared.
It was strange really, how few people seemed to care about the Olympics happening just nearby…
but maybe that was just Alisa’s world shrinking into what mattered most to her.
She glanced sideways at her colleagues on ice earlier in the day, but now, honestly, the rest of the world felt less interesting than the warmth of Tora’s hand.
I just want to be here with her, the thought passed through her mind almost absently.
“How’s your mood before the short program in a couple of days?” Tora asked softly, lips slightly pursed as she looked ahead while they walked slowly along the dim park paths. The air was getting colder now, biting gently through their jackets.
Alisa exhaled, watching her breath disappear into the night.
“Honestly… I don’t know,” she admitted after a pause. “Every time I think about the performance, I get scared. Really scared. Like I’m going to let everyone down. My team, my coaches… everything.”
Tora squeezed her hand a little tighter.
“That’s okay,” she said gently. “It’s your first Olympics.”
“Aren’t you worried about tomorrow? You’re performing with Loke, aren’t you?” Alisa looked at Tora intently as they walked, their steps slow and synchronized on the quiet path.
Tora only smiled faintly, almost effortlessly.
“Yes, we’re performing tomorrow,” she admitted. “But I don’t think I’m really worried. I just… enjoy it. Being on the ice, being in front of everyone. It feels like a routine for me now. Maybe it’s because I’ve done it so many times that I’ve just gotten used to it…”
The first time Alisa competed at a championship as a child, her very first one, when all she had to do was earn an initial rank and perform relatively simple elements, she had been terrified.
She was still terrified actually for just stepping onto the ice, terrified of making mistakes, because the coaches saw everything, every tiny error, and disappointment always followed. And the parents were even worse.
They reminded her constantly how many millions had been invested into her figure skating, as if that number had weight she was supposed to carry on her back every time she breathed.
And when she lost, there was anger and humiliation.
Words that reduced her until she felt like she was nothing at all.
But every single time, Alisa still came back to the rink.
She came back after failures, after competitions that ended in tears, after programs that collapsed under pressure.
She came back, she rose again and again even after falling from the simplest jumps, even when her body hurt and her confidence was gone.
She kept returning to the ice as if it was the only place that still made sense.
And somewhere along the way, she started noticing something painful in others too, those athletes who never seemed to carry that kind of fear into performances, who skated freely without that shadow pressing on their shoulders. She envied them.
“That’s great…”
“Are you always this worried?” Tora looked at Alisa, squeezing her hand a little tighter as they walked.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Alisa admitted after a pause. “Every time I lost a championship or a competition, my parents were furious… and my coaches too. It was always a nightmare. And after a while, the fear of making mistakes just became… constant. Especially when everything is on the line.”
“I’m sorry that all of that made you feel scared,” Tora said softly. “But… you love skating so much, doesn’t it still bring you joy?”
“It does,” Alisa answered honestly, “but the fear is stronger sometimes. When I go out in front of people… it just takes over. It’s easier for me to skate when no one is watching, when it’s just training.”
“I would like to see you skate when no one is watching you,” Tora said with a small, gentle smile.
Alisa gave a sad nod, taking a slow breath of the cold park air between the trees, trying to loosen the tension sitting inside her chest.
But Tora… Tora was so calm.
Completely calm about tomorrow’s competition.
And for some reason, that calmness irritated Alisa in a complicated way, not because she wished Tora was anxious too, but because it reminded her of how different it felt to exist like this.
Watching others move through life with ease while she felt trapped in a loop of pressure, fear, and expectation she couldn’t step out of.
* * *