As long as he can remember, Furuya's been enamored with skating. Since he was little, learning on a frozen lake in Hokkaido with his grandpa, it's all he's cared about. And he's competitive, sure, but the reason Furuya wants to be the best is because he really, truly loves skating. It feels good, cold air on warm skin and the smooth glide across the ice. And it's quiet; he doesn't have to struggle to interact with other people. Furuya can be the best on his own.

Or so he'd thought, until he started losing competitions. It turns out that as skilled as someone can be, if they don't have the stamina to back up their routine, it doesn't matter. Furuya is nothing if not stubborn, though, so he keeps trying, ignoring the commentators who say it's a shame, if only he could get through his second half.

The thing is, what he needs, more than practice or watching videos of programmes over and over again, is a coach.

It seems like it wouldn't be all that hard, but that's where the struggle interacting with people comes in. Everyone he's tried has found him hard to work with, because Furuya is the sort of person who prefers to struggle on his own than admit a fault or give up; he's come close to injury more times than he has bothered tracking, and eventually everyone throws up their hands and tells him to do it on his own if he's so determined not to listen.

He's on his last leg, so to speak. Furuya can't keep losing competitions and hope to get anywhere professionally. He needs programmes that will help him win, but that doesn't matter if he can't skate them.

That's where Miyuki comes in.

Miyuki Kazuya is amazing. He's everything an aspiring skater would hope to be; charming and graceful and, most importantly, good. He makes everything look effortless. Furuya has watched his programmes countless times, has recorded them and played them back again and again, and he still is no closer to figuring out what it is that makes Miyuki's skating so flawless. And Miyuki knows he's good.

He retired a few years back, at the height of his career, and every subsequent person he's coached has gone from mediocre to amazing, not quite the same as Miyuki had been--still is--but they're skilled and captivating and Furuya's decided, a long time ago, that if he's going to have a coach...it has to be Miyuki.

Furuya's stubbornness is both a blessing and a curse, but he hopes in this case, it's a blessing. He's not going to take no for an answer. He has to convince Miyuki to coach him, because for Furuya, there's nobody else who can do it.