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It’s not a match he's particularly interested in, but he makes sure his schedule accommodates it. Even if the challenge and contestants aren’t particularly interesting, Tadashi had told him that one of the acolytes had given out a visitor badge. For the first time in a while, Crazy Rock would be seeing someone new. It was a rare occasion. They don’t often get newcomers anymore, and even if Ainosuke isn't there personally to greet them, he at least likes to get a look for himself.
He can’t have any snakes intruding upon his garden, after all.
Surveillance and intel confirms that the newcomer is neither suspicious himself nor suspicious of them, but instead just a makeshift delivery boy. It's not particularly interesting, and the feeling is mutual. The young man that arrives seems only vaguely intrigued in the carnival unfurling around him, standing idly at the side of the regular that invited him.
Some sort of altercation ensues, a ratty skateboard is thrown, and Ainosuke is quickly losing all interest in the night. Shadow is arguing with the redhead, but in his rising boredom, Ainosuke’s eyes are drawn to the side of their spat. The newcomer seems completely oblivious to the dispute unfurling next to him as he collects the discarded board from the ground. He rummages through the bag for a moment, and takes out a roll of tape.
Ainosuke watches, curious, and sits up straight in his chair when the teenager starts binding the board to his feet. The stance he fixes his feet in is familiar enough to be recognizable, and Ainosuke wants to reach through the screen and grab everyone not paying attention. ‘Look!’ he wants to exclaim.
Thankfully, someone does.
It’s actually Cherry Blossom that notices, naturally. Cherry’s always had a discerning eye. He helps the newcomer to his feet and balances him as he rights the board, while Ainosuke stands, enjoying the vicarious rush of blood in his veins. The start is laughable, and the beginning shaky, and the first straightaway is the moment that separates those that can from those that can’t. Snowboarding and skateboarding are similar in concept, but their execution is entirely different. It isn’t so easy to adjust from one to the other.
But for this young man, something must click into the right place. The rookie’s stance lowers, his center of gravity dropping, and there’s this shot through one of the cameras, the perfect image of icicle eyes sharpening behind whipping locks of pale hair. Ainosuke can feel his heart in his chest.
The stance and posture—they’re technically wrong, but the rookie plunges downhill and whips around corners like none of that even matters. He’s on Shadow in no time at all, and it’s so different but so familiar, so reminiscent of himself. And yet, he’s never seen anything like it.
It’s wonderful.
He can’t stay still, his hands itching to move. He cuts his hands through the air in time with the music, but it’s not nearly enough to quell the exhilaration in his veins.
The rookie takes over every screen at his behest. There’s no need to see anything or anyone else—Shadow, the audience, the course, it’s all just an unnecessary backdrop. The star of the show has arrived and he’s glorious .
This is what he made ‘S’ for. Who he made ‘S’ for. The reason he’s kept its gates open for so long, waiting. For this moment, this young man, this birth of a hurricane. It was worth it, waiting all this time, keeping the cameras rolling without a star, to see this metamorphosis right before his eyes.
The race reaches the final stage with a rookie keeping pace with a pro, and the dancing lights of the warehouse have never fitted anyone more than they do now. Against pale skin and light hair, the colors are iridescent, illuminating the lead actor in all his untempered glory. The old, bent conveyor belt becomes a ramp. The rookie takes the jump no one has ever dared to make before.
And he flies.
Firecrackers explode underneath him, their brilliant colors second to the elegant figure soaring through the air.
Just for a moment, it snows in Okinawa, and Ainosuke can see with his own eyes what it means to be unfettered by everything, to surpass all laws of man and nature. That freedom, that daring, that rejection of all sense and reason, that challenge to the very notion of the impossible.
His hand presses against a screen. He should be there in person, watching this moment unfurl with his own eyes, instead of being trapped here. The cameras aren’t enough.
He’s stuck watching a bird take flight from inside a cage.
It’s time he takes his wings back.