Welcome to the Go Ahead section! :D

I'm sorry that this story doesn't have a lot of substance. Once I have a concrete idea, I'll try to write something more.


~ kittykittyhunter ~

In his recurring daydream, he was trudging through snow.

Izaki Yuuki loved the chilly weather. He adored the frosty air that filled his lungs, the biting winds which scraped his skin. He took all sensible precautions (hat, scarf, coat, gloves, boots); despite the fact that he was one of winter's biggest fans, he knew the season had a dangerous – and occasionally lethal – side. It didn't matter. The boy had an ambition towards which he was striving. His success depended on his ties to the cold.

Yuuki wanted to play ice hockey.

No, not as a hobby. He wanted to match his skills against the world's best. He wanted to glide on the ice in the largest arenas. He wanted to hear crowds scream as he swerved past his rivals, hear them roar as he struck the puck and claimed victory.

He had talent. That was certain. The boy did not think he was a prodigy, necessarily: he'd simply been privileged enough to enjoy years of practice. Someone had once commented that Yuuki was exceptionally fast at shrugging into his uniform. On the rink itself, he was agile. Graceful. A coach had once noted that, given the right training, Yuuki could achieve his goal…

Then his teacher asked a question and Yuuki crashed from the reverie. Obligingly (though with some effort), he tore his gaze from the window. The day was blisteringly hot; he imagined clouds of steam rising from the ground. A Math puzzle was scribbled on the board in white chalk. Yuuki frowned at it for a few moments before delivering the right answer.

He could not remember the last time he had thrown a snowball. He missed lying down on the ground, moving his arms and legs in arcs. He missed playing noughts and crosses on cool glass.

The Izaki family no longer lived in Canada.

The freshman hated Japan.

For the rest of the morning lesson, he drew snowflakes, intricately connecting the points. After a while, the lines ceased to have shape, sprawling into erratic spiderwebs.

The class ended. Yuuki grabbed his lunch and left the room. When he passed a dustbin, he dumped the scrap of paper.