Chapter Text
Some people may call Ainosuke a stubborn person. Others, though rarely to his face, have even called him a pretentious, ostentatious individual.
It went without saying that when he set his mind to something, decided there was something that he wanted; he got it. It didn’t matter how long it took, or how many people he stepped on in the journey, Ainosuke Shindo always got what he wanted. That was a fact as simple as the blueness of the sky. It had served him well in the political field, had gotten him far, and it had served him wonderfully in his personal endeavors.
Ainosuke would find his Eve.
That was a fact.
A fact that those who knew of him and his search would also claim to be a stubborn delusion.
Stubborn, maybe, Ainosuke could understand being seen as stubborn for it. But not a delusional. His Eve was real, somewhere out there was his soulmate, his perfect other half made by God just for him.
Ainosuke knew that most people would have long since given up trying by now, would have probably just given up and accept that they may never find that other half. It had been fourteen years since he had first began an earnest search for his Eve, not many people had the patience and will to keep looking for that long. Ainosuke wasn’t most people, though.
Of course his failures to find Eve were certainly not from any lack of trying.
Ainosuke had searched and searched, seeking people out whenever he came to a new city, whenever his work sent him to a new place, he would look.
Occasionally he did find a skater who he though could be the one, but every time he was left disappointed when they failed his tests of worth, by falling from the dangerous curves of the tracks, loosing control on their board when trying to match Adam’s speed, or just being unable to match his pace at all. In the end, Ainosuke had yet to find someone who could make his heart race with anticipation and delight. Whose very presence left him yearning and longing.
He had yet to find anyone worthy of being his Eve.
For a while he had thought perhaps Cherry was his Eve. Ainosuke had been so happy about it, too. He had courted Kaoru, gave him roses and gifts, had even given him money to help him cover after school calligraphy classes. He danced with him in the night as they skated, had taught him tricks and gave him advice to improve his own skating. When Cherry’s board broke, Ainosuke paid for a replacement. Ainosuke had given him every ounce of attention and love that he had to give.
The affection had been reciprocated, of course, how could it not? But it had been overshadowed by the bond Cherry shared with Joe. Though the two may not have realized it at the time, it had been clear to Adam quickly that what he and Cherry shared couldn’t compare to what Cherry and Joe had. That Adam couldn’t compare to Joe.
Not that it had mattered. In the end Cherry Blossom also failed. He was a talented skater, one of the best Adam had seen, but he predictable. Boring. His skating lost the thrill that had originally drawn Adam in. Cherry had been just another false hope, one that had, if Adam was to be honest, hurt the most.
Then a rookie came to S, taking a beef against Shadow in place of another skater, riding atop an already fairly damaged and chipped board. Ainosuke had expected the beef to end in an utterly humiliating defeat for the newcomer, crush his will to skate ever again, after all what skater rode a board with their feet taped to it!
Yet, he had been proven wrong, the rookie had won the beef, and Ainosuke had learned quickly after that not only was the young teen a veteran snowboarder, but he had never ridden a skateboard before that night.
For the first time in so long, Ainosuke had felt his heart race and his pulse quicken as he played the footage of that race over and over again as he sat alone in his office. He always made a point to keep an eye on any fresh blood that came to Crazy Rock, any new faces who skated down the illegal track, so that he could judge them, their skills and form, their talent, for he could never know when his Eve might appear.
The newcomer was the first in a long time to rank so highly in his books. Ainosuke just had to see more of him.
And so, he arranged a beef to test this candidate, to test Snow.
Of course, whoever he sent after Snow had to be skilled. It couldn’t be just any random skater, they had to be good. Good enough to challenge Snow. Shadow was already a skilled skater, certainly among the best, and so the opponent had to be on his level or better. Joe and Cherry were out of the question, as they would never have agreed if asked. But, Ainosuke had other pawns on the board, too.
He had approached S’s own young prodigy and Olympian-to-be. All it took were a few words and a firm nudge and Miya locked on to Langa and challenged him to a beef. A race between the two would be the perfect way to know if the win against Shadow was from actual skill or pure luck.
Perhaps, he had thought, he had hoped, perhaps Ainosuke had finally found his Eve.
Yes, if his little Langa passed this test, then Adam would skate with him, would dance with him. Watching him beat others would only prove so much, no, Ainosuke wouldn’t know until he had a taste himself. Shadow and Miya would just be to ensure that he wouldn’t waste time on what could potentially be another false hope.
For the first time Ainosuke was considering someone to be his Eve, and the excitement he felt, even if Langa had yet to confirm his suspicions, went beyond words. He was riding the brink of ecstasy just thinking of it. His Eve, his perfect half, so close!
The beef was scheduled, Adam would watch from outside of S, and should Langa succeed then he would make his own dramatic entrance and propose a dance between him and the newcomer, and then Adam would know. He would know.
He had it all planned, all to the smallest detail.
And yet, even with his meticulous planning, there were some things that a person cannot account for.
For Ainosuke, that would be his dear, beloved aunties. His loving aunties who had already arranged, without any prior discussion with him, for Ainosuke to meet with a fellow party member and the only CDP member elected to the House of Councilors for the Okinawa prefecture. This behind the back arrangement had him scheduled to be over in Kitayama, a growing city at the base of Mount Yonaha, for the next two weeks, gaining Councilor Seiko Adachi’s favor and friendship in a move to secure and strengthen his own political power.
This would mean that Ainosuke would not be in Okinawa City to witness the beef between Miya and Langa. He would be able to watch it on his phone, but he would be unable to approach Langa should he win, unable to propose a skate with him, unable to see for himself, in person, who Langa is.
He would not be able to verify if Langa was his Eve. Not right away, at least.
It frustrated him, of course, greatly so. When his aunts had called him into their parlor, had explained what they had arranged and their intentions for this two-week visit to Kitayama, Ainosuke had thanked them for their guidance and decisions, had smiled and agreed that it was a wise move to secure their own futures.
In the privacy of his own room, however, he had screamed at his dog and shattered a wine glass upon the wall.
There was nothing that he could do, of course. His aunts had decided that this was the path Ainosuke must take, and he would not defy them—could not defy them. And so, with gritted teeth and boiling blood, he had packed his bags and gotten into the car the morning of his departure, slipping on his politician’s smile when others saw him, but letting his anger show itself when it was just him and Tadashi.
Kitayama was only a two hour drive from Okinawa City, but he would not be able to slip away to S and go unnoticed in that span of time. His absence would be noted, questions would be asked. It was not a risk that he could freely take.
No, Ainosuke would have to replan everything.
But, he would do so, he would endure this little hiccup, and he would see for himself if Langa was his Eve, if his search was finally over. He had endured this absence in his heart for years already, he could wait weeks more. The wait would only make it taste all the sweeter when he finally had Eve in his grasp.
“Tadashi,” he said from the cars back seat, the Yonaha mountain growing larger and larger the closer they got. “Make sure that the beef tomorrow is recorded.” He may not be able to be there personally, but he would not miss this race for anything.
“Understood, sir.”
“I plan to treat Adachi to dinner during our discussions tonight, do make sure to find a nice restaurant to take her to, we want her to keep a positive impression of me.” Looking at the highway through the car’s tinted window, Ainosuke noted that there were not many vehicles on the expressway. They passed a sign that told him that they’d be approaching their exit soon.
Tadashi did not verbally answer to Ainosuke’s order, he did not need to. The nod of his head was all he needed to show that he had heard his orders. His face gave no sign of his opinion on the matter, of if he had an opinion at all of this whole ordeal.
Taking his phone out, Ainosuke spent the remaining time on the road watching recorded clips from S, though none of the recent races excited him, and dear Langa had yet to race again since the bout with Shadow. The others just paled in comparison to the snowflake.
Eventually the vehicle stopped in front of Adachi’s office, with Tadashi quickly exiting the car and opening the door for Ainosuke.
At the front of the office was a young, frazzled aid, one who was quick to confirm who Ainosuke was and even quicker to usher them into the building and take them to Seiko Adachi.
The morning was still in full bloom, and Ainosuke felt more annoyed than he felt stressed at the interns, lobbyists, and fellow politicians who hovered at the edges of the path like undesired moths, whispering, pointing fingers.
Ainosuke didn’t dislike attention. In truth he lavished under it. But with the recent rumors of Takano and the police’s own not-so-subtle investigation into him and his acquaintances had people on edge, worried that they may also be targeted and their own secrets revealed if things went south.
With his head held high, Ainosuke pretended that he did not notice the stares, did not hear the whispers. They were beneath him, not worth an ounce of attention.
The walk from car to office went on longer than he would have liked, but eventually the aid had brought him to the large office of Councilor Seiko Adachi, bowing his head and scurrying away just as fast.
Seiko Adachi was an older woman, nearing fifty-four in a few months. She had been a part of the National Diet since the 90’s and it went without question that she was one of the most powerful members of the CDP. She was short, thin, her fingers long and bony, her face deep with wrinkles, her hair greying from age and stress.
Yet, she held herself still with the power of a queen, regal and strong, and still fully capable of killing any chance of a political future for Ainosuke. His aunts had correct when they urged him having her as a friend would be a great advantage for him.
Slipping on a false smile, Ainosuke bowed. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Adachi,” he greeted politely. “You look as radiant as ever.”
Adachi smiled as well, carefully straightening out a stack of papers and reports she had been reading through. “Shindo, a delight to see you as well,” she said, raising a hand and gesturing to the chairs across from her desk. “I do hope the current scrutiny Takano has been receiving hasn’t affected you too badly,” she spoke not unkindly.
He was quick to dissuade her of any worries, real or not, with a warm smile and a held hand. “I am doing well,” aside from a little Miss Tokyo University trying to raid his office. “Please don’t worry yourself too much over my situation. But what of you? How have you been doing?”
There was a chuckle as Adachi smiles warmly, begins speaking of her own quaint and pleasant days of late. She talked of the ever constant plans to grow Kitayama outward, of the revitalization projects in the older parts of the city, of the cleanup projects in the mountain, of schools and of infrastructure. Things that would require a budget arranged, would need funding, things she assured him would benefit the CDP, and would help acquire more CDP votes in upcoming elections as they show to be doing more for the community of the prefecture than other parties.
Ainsouke didn’t care too much, but he smiled and nodded, offered his own opinions, his own suggestions on how to allocate existing funding about. Things that he had no doubt that Seiko Adachi already considered, but was rather to show her that he was intelligent and understood, comprehended what she spoke of. By the way she nodded and smiled, Ainosuke had little doubt he was meeting her expectations. Surpassing them, perhaps.
The morning drifted by quickly as she shared documents with him, and over lunch introduced him to other prominent individuals for the city, including the police chief Sasaki.
Into the afternoon, their conversation drifted from projects within Kitayama to, much to Ainosuke’s annoyance, the scandal that Takano was trying to hide and Ainsouke’s own involvement.
“You need not to worry about anything, dear,” Adachi had said in a coddling tone, as if Ainosuke was her grandson and she was trying to assuage his fears. It disgusted him. “You have been doing very well, and this little problem Takano has created can easily be brushed aside without ruining your own career. This can easily be explained by central administration bringing up overlooked funds for that expressway project, can it not?”
He had to bite back his sigh, bite back a roll of the eyes. She spoke of nothing new, nothing that Ainosuke had not already brainstormed and prepared. “Of course,” he answered with a charming smile. “Of course I would like to not have it dragged out so long that it reaches central administration. What with elections coming up soon, this could become an issue for more than just a few if it does, and can cause the people to lose faith in the CDP. We don’t want that.”
“No,” Adachi agreed, “we don’t. But, keep in mind, Shindo; you may be a part of the same party as Takano, but you are not part of the same Ministry as Takano. Why, for what reasons would you have to know what he has been doing? Not to mention, you are still such a young member of the Diet, if your superior demanded of you to cover for him, you’d do so.”
As if relishing in the delusion that she was a mentor figure guiding him like a mother holding a child’s hand, Adachi smiled warmly, hands folded together as she watched Ainosuke. “Do make sure you’ve plenty of lawyers, of course. The police will be like the hounds of Hell on your heels until they are satisfied. Make sure you rehearse what you’ll say when they come to you next in demands regarding Takano, and politely refuse if they ask to look into your office. You’re a smart man and have a wonderful career ahead of you, just be patient and this disruption will sort itself out.”
“I will be sure to take your words of advice to heart, Adachi,” Ainosuke said with a polite bow. “Clearly there is much I can learn about the political world from you.”
That seemed to be an ego stroker for her, as Adachi smiled brighter, relishing the compliment.
With that out of the way, Ainosuke led the conversation to something less bothersome. He brought up the new redevelopment project she was pushing for around the high school area, its first phase being the construction of new buildings at Kitayama High, an older and rather dilapidated school. This would bring more students and a better environment to the school while also being the first step of improving the neighborhood.
They spent close to four hours after discussing the revitalization project, Adachi eagerly taking Ainosuke through the plans, the different phases, bringing up the backers and those funding the project, with Ainosuke offering his own suggestions here and there, taking precise care to make sure each thing he offered would align exactly with what she wanted to hear. Then, as the hour drew late, he had taken the woman out for dinner to eat and continue their discussions.
Ainosuke was exhausted, mentally drained, but he made sure to keep an appearance of perfect charm and hide the tiredness as he talked with Adachi. Though he was at Kitayama, his mind would not leave S, and it was growing harder the longer the meeting drew and the more tired he grew to keep from dissociating and fantasize of S, of the beef tomorrow night, of his Eve. No, he was using every ounce of control to maintain a professional demeanor in front of his colleague.
After what had been far too long of a wait, he was finally able to depart from Seiko Adachi, bidding her a farewell as her own chauffer arrived at the front of the upscale restaurant they ate at, ready to take her to her own home as Ainosuke waved her off, Tadashi at the side of his own car, waiting for Ainosuke.
It was only when Adachi’s car had disappeared from sight that Ainosuke climbed into his own, heaving a heavy sigh as Tadashi got behind the wheel. As the car lurched forward, Ainosuke undid his tie, feeling relief as he loosened up.
It was only one day, and he still had two weeks of it to go through. It was going to be a long two weeks if today was anything to go by.
At least they’d be able to go to the hotel and rest. Though, right now all Ainosuke wanted was to relax, and he saw the perfect place earlier.
The skatepark wasn’t much.
The fenced in space was smaller than the one in Okinawa City, and of course it paled in comparison to the beauty that was S. But, it would do, and with the late hour of the day there were few enough people, and the skatepark being so deep in the park away from the main streets, Ainosuke could feel the freedom of skating without unwanted observers.
Even so, he did take some careful measures. Gone was the suit and tie, and instead he had donned a nondescript hoodie and a spare hat to hide himself from those who might recognize his face. He didn’t need the news to start talking about how Ainosuke Shindo spent his nights at a skatepark.
He wasn’t even using his iconic board, instead he had taken out a simplistic, nondescript longboard, one without horns and no intricate designs. It was dull in comparison to his own, but it would do if his intention was for people to not see the Matador of Love.
By a bench sat Tadashi, watching him with a blank, empty gaze. Ainosuke knew that was the closest his dog would go to show his disapproval, and as if to spite him, Ainosuke made a frighteningly high jump on the halfpipe.
If he wished to skate, he would skate, his dogs thoughts on it be damned.
He needed this.
He spent the passing hour performing tricks, fine-tuning his already perfect technique as he grinded on rails and blocks, spun and twisted in the air from the halfpipes, and danced. Of course, it was not his usual dance, no, he wasn’t using his longboard, just a street, he didn’t have the length to fully utilize his dance, but he made do and it was beautiful nonetheless. Of course it would be, though, it was Ainosuke who did it.
Sometimes he’d take a break for water and watch the small handful of other skaters as they went about, their skating paling in comparison to his own talents.
Already, the longer he spent on his board, the more free he felt, the more at ease and relaxed he was. This was where he belonged, this was who he was. Skater. Adam. And though this park was no S, it was a good enough replacement for the time being.
It was enough to get Ainosuke grinning from the excitement of the thrill.
He did look to Tadashi a bit, a part of him wondering if his assistant would pick up a skateboard and join him if he could, if his assistant envied that Ainosuke could skate freely out here while he could not. Sometimes, when his board wobbled just a little too much after landing a jump, or his feet began to slip off the boards rough surface when in the air, he could see Tadashi tense, leaning just slightly forward, ready to rush over and catch Ainosuke before he could potentially fall.
It was never necessary, however. Ainosuke always regained himself, always regained the scraps of control he might lose over his board. Tadashi never once needed, Ainosuke’s safety never at risk. Though the risk itself added a divine flavor to the night. Skateboarding was dangerous and he could be seriously hurt, and though he had no fear for his safety and was hardly a masochist, the thought of that danger excited him more.
Time went by in a blur, Ainosuke unable to even say just how much had passed as the stars twinkled above and the cool air ran across his skin. The few other skaters, some of whom had watched and gawked as Ainosuke showed them up with raw talent, slowly departing for home until there was just Ainosuke, his dog, and few enough other skaters that he could count on one hand.
His heart was beating hard in his chest, electricity running currents across his skin as he came to Tadashi, not leaving his board as he took the offered water and downed it in one go. It was during this moment of rest that Ainosuke’s attention and curiosity was caught by the not-quite discreet conversation between a couple of skaters just a little bit away.
“Are you heading up the trail tonight?”
“Dunno, man. I don’t think there are any interesting beefs tonight.”
“Come on, Shorts is going against Hirose tonight. How’s that not interesting?”
“How is that interesting?”
The two skaters, in their teens by the looks of it, were sitting on some handrails as they talked, and Ainosuke, his interested piqued by the mentions of beefs and a track, could do nothing to stop himself from gliding towards them on his own board, a wide, toothy smile upon his face as he made his way over.
“Oh, what’s this? Is there by chance a skate track somewhere around here?” Ainosuke asked them.
The two were quick to clam up, clearly not realizing they had been heard, and silently telling him that this supposed track was supposed to be a secret. Which just made it more interesting, which made him want to know more about it. So he drew closer, let his voice drip with that same convincing charm and persuasion that had won him so much support in the political battlefield.
“Come now, don’t be shy. We’re all skaters here, aren’t we?” he asked, leaning against the rails and squeezing himself between the two. “What’s this track you’ve been chatting so carefreely about? I am new to this city, and if there’s someplace else I can skate to my heart’s content, well, I would love to know of it.”
It was the smaller of the two who caved, he adverted his gaze from Ainosuke, toying with the wheels on his board as he spoke, voice wavering. “It’s, ah, not really a legal track, so we shouldn’t be talking about it,” he said, face looking flushed under the skatepark lights. “It’s called Suicide Trail, it’s, um, a really crazy track we do races down.”
“And that’s all we’ve to say on it,” the other quickly interrupted, grabbing his buddy and pulling him from the rails, one foot already on his board, ready to escape, “Come on, Suzuki, we gotta get going. We still got homework to do.” By the way that he said it, it was fairly obvious there was no homework.
But regardless, with that said and done the two teens ran off, or rather, skated off, the sound of wheels against the concrete sidewalk echoing into the night as they fled from the park, as if they would have been lynched if they had said another word of this track to him.
Nonetheless, Ainosuke was curious and interested.
Suicide Trail.
Why, the name alone invoked discomfort and anxiety.
“Tadashi,” he said, quick, sharp. Just as quickly, his dog was at his side, face unreadable as always. “Find what information you can on this Suicide Trail. I want to see it for my own eyes.”
“Yes, sir.”
A crazy track with a deadly name. New skaters. Why, maybe this trip wouldn’t be as dreadful as Ainosuke had originally feared. There may be a source of entertainment here after all, and perhaps more.
As it turned out, it wasn’t too hard to find out more about Suicide Trail. While Ainosuke spent the morning in the company of the politicians of Kitayama, charming them and gaining their trust, Tadashi had gathered a fair bit of information on the secret track. Money, as expected, was an easy way to loosen lips, and Ainosuke had plenty of money to spare.
It was similar to S, unsurprising as Tadashi informed Ainosuke that it’s founder was a former regular of S in the early years and had likely modeled this track after Ainosuke’s own kingdom. It was a longer track, however, and supposedly notorious for being dangerous (Though Ainosuke would be the judge of just how dangerous it truly was) and it lacked the same kind of funding that S did.
Like S, it was secret, and a secret that they worked even harder to keep without having any police chiefs in their pockets. According to Tadashi, the hardest part was getting entry, though it had ultimately been solved by money once more and he had been able to present Ainosuke the two small fake coins. Both silver in color with ST printed on the ‘heads’, a mountain peak on the ‘tails’.
Ainosuke had decided the moment he was given the coin that they would go to Suicide Trail that night. The trail opened at eleven at night, and so they would arrive at midnight. He would see the skaters of Kitayama, would see how Suicide Trail compared to S, how the skaters compared to his standards, see if perhaps, maybe, he could find someone his equal here. Someone who could keep up with him.
In the excitement, thoughts of Langa and Miya’s race that same night were forgotten.
The meetings with Adachi, with the local, lesser politicians, with businessmen and backers went by quickly as thoughts of the night filled his mind, his expectations and eagerness. There was a slight pep in his step that had not gone unnoticed by his colleagues, and he easily brushed off as waking up in a very good mood.
When night came, Tadashi drove them as far up the mountain as he could, but the density of trees and narrowing path made them stop far too early, and so the car was left parked near other cars, the two taking the rest of the trip by foot. He had made sure they would not be recognized easily, with Ainosuke wearing a loose hoodie, his hair combed and loose in a style similar to his hair as Adam, and even used the same mask, and Tadashi dressed with jeans and jacket, the brim of a cap hiding his face.
As they walked, it quickly became clear that they also weren’t the only ones going up the mountain, which only made Ainosuke more eager as they saw others, young and old, men and women, trekking up with their skateboards, chatting and laughing and gossiping about matches and tricks.
A few skated past them, but not fast as they fought against the uphill slope, but also not caring as they laughed and joked.
After what Ainosuke suspected to have been twenty minutes of walking, they could begin to see the crowds, begin to see Suicide Trail.
They must have been somewhere in the middle, the track lined with bushes and rocks that were smoothed over to serve as makeshift ramps, and a rusty looking handrail on one side. Outside of the tracks were areas cleared out to skate and hang out. The vegetation was uprooted outside of the track, rails and benches implemented. The further up they went, there were other objects that had to have been designed specifically for the track; a low brick wall along the track edge, a concrete beam or two, ramps and grind rails secured to the ground with concrete.
The track itself, Ainosuke noted didn’t look anything special. Curves and straights, rocks turned into ramps, rails here and there to be both obstacles and ways to show off. Some of the turns were a bit sharp, but nothing really stood out to him and Ainosuke’s excitement was slowly turning into disappointment.
For the hype, Suicide Trail didn’t seem like much.
It was clear that much of this track was man-made and with low-quality equipment compared to S. He didn’t see any CCTV cameras either and wondered if they were able to record the races at all. There were also, Ainosuke noticed, various paths leading away from the main road. He suspected these led to different alcoves for skaters to hang out and practice at.
Skaters were doing tricks and going down the track, showing off and having fun. Ainosuke wouldn’t deny that some of them were good, but most were average, and a good number insignificant.
No one caught his attention.
In all honestly, after another fifteen minutes walking up along the track Ainosuke was beginning to think that this trip was a waste, that he had once again gotten his hopes up for nothing. Tadashi gave no sign of his thoughts on this track when Ainosuke looked to him, his face remaining impassive, neutral.
Still, Ainosuke could spend a bit more time here before heading out, and if nothing proved worth his attention, then he’d call this track a bust and not deal.
Dropping his board to the ground and pushing himself forward, Ainosuke decided to approach one of the skaters who was doing grinds and jumps on a higher handrail. The skater looked to be a middle schooler, maybe even a high school first year, with a constellation-adorned jacket. The boy wasn’t exceptionally talented, a bit better than average, but that wasn’t the sort of skater that Ainosuke sought. Even so, he seemed easy.
The boy barely even paid Ainosuke any mind when he approached, too focused on skating, lost in his own world.
When he landed a jump off the rails with his board wobbling a bit when it hit the ground, Ainosuke clapped his hands and smiled, “That was wonderful,” he praised, finally gaining the boys attention as he leaned against the rail, smiling warmly at the boy. “I was watching you skate, you’re quite talented.”
The boys cheeks turned a light pink as he kicked his board up, holding it in his hands. “Um, thank you,” he said, trailing off as he stared at Ainosuke, brows knitted together.
“Adam,” he introduced himself.
“Ah. Stardust,” the kid responded, looking Adam up and down, “You new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you up here before.”
Adam smiled just a bit wider. “Guilty as charged. My associate and I,” he glanced to Tadashi as he said that, “are new. First time on this track. I was wondering if you could tell me what makes this trail so popular?” Because Ainosuke really couldn’t see anything interesting from the stretch of track they had gone along.
That got the boy’s face to brighten, as if he loved talking about the track, or he just loved the track itself.
Stardust looked to the gentle curve of Suicide Trail, a grin on his face as he began talking. “The track is amazing, though if you haven’t gone down the full length yet, it might not seem like it lives up to the name here,” he said, as if reading Adam’s mind on it. “We’re near the end of the first leg of the track, the track is still fairly gentle and easy here. Things start to get crazy when you go further down.”
Now that got Adam’s attention. So what he’d seen of the track didn’t speak for the track in entirety? His smile became just a little more genuine. “Oh? How crazy does it get?”
Rocking on the heels of his sneakers, Stardust glanced to the track as a couple of older skaters raced down. “Well, keep going down for, there’s a tunnel. More importantly the curves and turns get sharper, and then there’s the Winding Snake,” he listed, paused, and looked back to Adam. “Ah, that’s what we call this zig-zagging path. You’re going down, turn, down, turn for a bit. There’s an old wooden bridge that goes over the creek, and the track gets pretty narrow after the bridge for a while, and in some parts you’re kind of boxed in by the mountain walls. The track then goes over the creek again, but the bridge is broken so it’s a wide jump that leads almost immediately into a really sharp turn. The track ends at a set of stairs, that part gets a lot of people.”
Adam listened with rapt attention, his mind painting a picture with the words as his ink. It did seem like a vicious track, and the excitement Adam had felt slipping away came back in full force as he imagined going down the trail at full speed.
“I assume the trail got its name from many unfortunate accidents?” he had to force his voice to sound sympathetic, not give way to the thrill he felt at the idea of the deadliness that this track posed, imagining himself and his Eve overtaking the sharp turns and leaping over the creeks and rivers.
With a cough, Stardust nodded. “Yeah, ah, we’ve had plenty of bad accidents, a lot of people had to quit skating,” he confirmed. “Plenty of the skaters here can’t actually go the full track, so a lot of the beefs aren’t so much to see who gets to the finish line first, but to see who can get the farthest without a wipeout.” Adam suspected, going by the sheepish way Stardust looked when saying not everyone could make it to the finish line, that the boy had yet to make it that far.
But, it was safe to say that his interest was fully caught. This track may very well be something amazing. Adam wanted a chance down it himself.
“You’re actually in luck today,” Stardust continued, looking a bit more excited than he already was.
With a brow raised, Adam looked at the kid, regarding him with a smile, “How so?”
The way the boys eyes sparkled, it was as if he plucked the stars from the sky, ground them into dust and sprinkled the powder onto himself. Adam was getting an idea of how he came about his skater name. “Cause tonight’s beef is going down the full track. You’re going to get to see Yonaha’s King skating the track tonight!”
Yonaha’s King?
His body tingled at the idea, “I assume that this is a good skater?”
“Better than good,” Stardust nodded. “Riptide’s never once been beaten, hence the name ‘Yonaha’s King’, easily the best skater here, hands down! Plus, no one really knows what nights they’ll be here, and they don’t accept beefs often, so it’s always a treat to see them skate.”
Huh. So an undefeated skater upon a suicidal skate track.
Well, Adam would be lying if he said the idea didn’t intrigue him. It did more than that. He wanted to see this skater for himself. “Then you’re right, I’m lucky to have come tonight,” he agreed. “Is there any way to watch the race in full? You wouldn’t be able to see it all from just this stretch, and I doubt it’s easy to follow the skaters.”
S had the cameras and app that let people watch beefs from wherever they were, and if the founder of this track was a former participant of S, Adam wondered what he did to solve that issue here.
As it turned out, Suicide Trail founder Shigeru Koga had simply copied Adam once again. He could hear the gentle whirring sound as a drone flew through the air, and Stardust was quick to pull a tablet from his bag and click open an app labeled STLive.
A part of Adam felt a bite of annoyance at the mimicry, considering briefly if he should seek Koga down and perhaps have a very civil and polite talk about copyright infringement, but he shoved it aside. Of course it was only natural that when Adam created a perfect paradise, people would try to model their own after it.
The race would be starting soon, Stardust had explained when people began drawing closer to the track, bringing out phones and tablets. The boy had even offered to let Adam watch the race on his tablet with him, an offer which was quickly accepted as he made his way to the tracks edge where Tadashi remained standing, a tall line of rocks dividing the spectators from the actual track. Stardust was quick to climb up and sit on a short stone wall just a couple feet from the railing that provided a wall to the edge of the track, seating himself between the two grown men as he held the tablet out for them to see, the drone hovering farther up the track.
The video began, a livestream of the race as a different drone hovered and moved about the crowds at what Adam figured was the starting point at the peak of Suicide Trail. There were even more skaters up there than there were down where he was, and though there was no sound he could easily tell from their expressions they were cheering and screaming.
The drone recording this scene moved up to the very top, were a white line was painted onto the ground. Adam didn’t see any starting light hanging, or anything really to do a countdown for the race, but suspected they had their own means to begin. On the right side of the line was a tall, bulky man. His grey hair was gelled up in a spiky mohawk, his beard trimmed close to his jaw. He was dressed bare-chested with a hammer tattooed on his right pec, wearing only a pair of torn jeans and combat boots. His board had a simple backdrop of a grey back and lightning printed on the deck.
“That’s Thor,” Stardust said in a hushed voice. “He’s a mean bastard, but a good skater. Often plays dirty.”
Adam nodded mutely as he watched as this Thor turned and faced the crowd, saying something that incited cheers and yells, the crowd lively before the massive man. He was relishing in the attention, seemingly laughing on the silent footage as he jeered the crowd.
Then, almost instantly, the crowd went wild and parted like a sea. Adam could feel and hear Stardust sucking in a sharp breath, his body shaking with excitement, so much so that Adam almost worried he’d drop the tablet.
On the screen the other skater came forward to the line, gliding over on their skateboard.
Adam couldn’t tell much about this skater, not even as the drone moved to do a front shot of the two. They weren’t particularly tall, and Adam guessed that if he stood beside them, this skater would only reach his shoulder in height, maybe even a little shorter. They seemed rather thin, too. Short and wiry.
Unlike Thor, this skater—Riptide, Stardust had called them—dressed far more casually. A pair of jeans that were faded at the knees, red high top shoes, they wore a white shirt and had a dark red jacket on. He couldn’t say anything about their face. They wore a blank white mask over it, the straps hidden behind strands of ash blonde hair that stuck up and slightly styled back in what he suspected was more to keep the hair from their face than to look like any sort of style.
Riptide bowed to the crowd, the camera getting a view of black gloves.
Kicking their board up and taking it in their hand, Adam got a glimpse of the underside. Though he couldn’t make out any fine details like he had with Thor’s, he could see blue and streaks of gold.
The two skaters stood at the starting line as an older woman with thick, curly red hair moved to stand in front of and between the two. She had a pistol in hand which she raised to the sky. The crowds went silent, holding their breaths in mute anticipation as the woman held the gun for what felt like an eternity. Then, there was the gunshot, resonating through the mountain.
The two took off.
It became clear fairly quickly that Thor was all about pure speed. Fast as lightning, Adam mused, perhaps the inspiration for his name, or partly so. The man was exceptionally fast, he wouldn’t deny him that, though he was more impressed that the drones recording it were able to keep up than how fast Thor could skate.
But, for all the speed he had, Thor clearly lacked the finesse that came with skating. His turns were too wide, his jumps janky with hard and unstable landings. He clearly wouldn’t be able to win a race if he relied on skill, so outpacing his opponents was his best option.
He might have even had a chance to win if all that mattered was being faster than his opponent. But, no, speed wasn’t all there was to a beef. Adam could tell that speed was not going to get Thor far in this race.
Not only was Riptide able to keep pace, they did so effortlessly, always maintaining a narrow gap between themselves and Thor. Sometimes they’d pull ahead, spurring Thor to go faster before dropping back behind him as Thor got ahead with a new burst of speed. Each swing forward and back methodical, intentional.
Adam could see it immediately.
Riptide was holding back. He did not doubt for a second that they could beat Thor without even trying. The two racers weren’t even in the same league, no matter how hard Thor tried to pretend they might be equals on that track. Riptide just glided down the track, maneuvering around the obstacles easily, smoothly, like water flowing down a stream.
Were they just playing with him? Was that why Riptide didn’t go faster, didn’t end this in an instant, crushing defeat? Perhaps they found enjoyment in letting their opponent think they had a chance, or found immediate, instant victory to be boring. Perhaps the Yonaha King didn’t think Thor worth putting the effort in.
Whatever their reasons were, Adam didn’t care. They all meant the same thing; he could watch them race for longer.
“Here they come!” Someone further up shouted.
Adam snapped his gaze from the tablet to the track. He couldn’t hear the racers approaching through the sound of chatter in the air, excited and cheering, but it didn’t matter. The two came into view quickly enough, their boards kicking up debris and dust in their tracks.
Thor was ahead by a couple meters, his body lowered closer to his board to give him more speed in a way that reminded Adam of how Joe skated. He was going faster now, faster than he had farther up the track. But Riptide didn’t seem concerned.
No, they ducked down, reducing the air resistance as their board picked up speed, closing the gap between the two.
Thor, however, was making wide swings back and forth, trying to cut off any chance Riptide had to pass him in this narrow length of the track. It’d be tricky to get by the man here without being bodied and knocked off their board, but Adam was sure that Riptide had some plan in their head for how to go about this. Perhaps wait until a turn to pass, or wait until the path got wider.
They chose neither.
People screamed and scrambled away as Riptide jumped, doing what began as a simple ollie before latching their board onto the rail and grinded down on it, now safely out of Thor’s reach and able to pass him without risk of collision. They leapt off as the rail ended and landed deliberately just a few feet in front of Thor, their board shaking as they hit the ground. Thor however, stumbled and nearly fell off his own skateboard before regaining some semblance of stability.
Riptide didn’t even give Thor a moment to recover, offering him only a brief glance backwards as if to make sure he hadn’t actually fallen before adjusting their stance and shooting off down the track in a new burst of speed, leaving an angry and spluttering Thor to follow on their heels.
Adam released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his eyes falling back to the tablet Stardust held, watching the skaters on the screen once more.
Riptide wasn’t skating. No, they were flying.
He was in complete awe as he watched as Riptide flew through the track, landing most of their tricks and slides with grace. Their posture and balance wasn’t exactly perfect, but they were able to react on a dime and shift their weight on the board just as fast to make up for it, and was now maintaining a consistent lead over Thor.
They reached what he imagined was the Winding Snake that Stardust had mentioned, watched Riptide make each turn, easily changing direction without any apparent momentum loss, watched as Thor nearly fell off the track on the fourth turn of the Snake, barely keeping his balance. They crossed the dilapidated bridge, rotting with boards broken and missing, the left rail barely hanging on. Watched as Riptide evaded the gaps with jumps and grinds. The turns did indeed grow sharper, becoming more sudden, but that didn’t seem to hinder Riptide at all s they grew closer to the end.
As they approached the creek jump, Thor had attempted to play dirty, just as Stardust said he often did. He had pulled something small and dark from his pocket and tried to get as close to Riptide as he could. For a brief moment, Adam wondered if he had procured a knife, but no—it was far too big to be one, and he was sure that even Suicide Trail wouldn’t allow for skaters to be straight up stabbed. No, when the drones got closer, he could see that what Thor was holding was a stun gun.
When Thor had gotten within arm’s reach of Riptide, he had attempted to strike. Only to miss as Riptide swerved and struck the man in the arm with an elbow, forcing him to drop the weapon. Though the mask blocked the view, Adam could only imagine the dirty look Riptide gave him as they stared Thor down.
The stare down only lasted a few moments before attention was back on the track and Riptide made the leap over the creek, landing onto the path across just in time to make a sharp turn following the path, now reaching the final part of the track.
Adam’s skin felt like it was on fire as he watched, thousands upon thousands of needles pricking into his skin, his voice caught in his throat as the race reached the end.
He could see the stairs on Stardust’s tablet. Thirty steep steps, a handrail on either side. He couldn’t help himself as he leaned closer to Stardust, trying to get a closer look at the screen, at the race as the two drew closer to the stairs. He fully expected a simple grind. No skater had done more than twenty-five steps, and this one was longer. A grind was the only one that made sense.
But, Riptide exceeded his expectations once again.
They jumped.
Adam sucked in a breath, his skin burning as he saw them soar through the air. He blinked at the screen, could swear he saw wings upon Riptides back taking them down the stairs.
They glided through the air, five steps that turned into ten steps, and then fifteen before surprising Adam once more. They flipped their board and caught the rail on the dark grip tape, going down the remainder of the stairs on a perfect darkslide.
Riptide won without question, reaching the finish line before Thor had even finished the stairs, and the camera drones remained focused on the two for a bit longer as the crowds began to surround the two.
Adams eyes could not leave Riptide.
He hadn’t expected this hot feeling coursing through him again, this raw exhilaration. Langa had been the last person to make him feel this way, and now he’d already found another who gave him this sensation of want and desire.
The implication was almost too good to be true.
Without a word to the others, Adam backed away from the others, grabbing his board and took off down the path alongside the track. All he could think about, care about at that moment was to get to the end of the track, to see Riptide with his own eyes.
“Sir?” Tadashi’s alarmed call was ignored, as were the annoyed and upset responses of the people he shoved aside in his swift descent.
The path let him get to the bottom of the track quicker than the actual beef course took, adding with the speed of which Adam skated at, it only took minutes for him to reach the finish line, his board kicking up dirt and dust as he came to a sharp stop.
The crowds were still thick and he could see Thor squatting at one end, surrounded by his own fans as he grumbled over his undeniable and inevitable defeat, comforted by his posse. Other spectators muttered and whispered, excited or disappointed, talking and chatting about the race, the ending slide that Riptide gave them. Adam could see the stairs just farther ahead, they looked larger in person than they had on the tablet, the metal handrails scrapped and scratched from boards.
Would residue from the boards grip be there if he ran his finger along the bar? Could he find the fresh scratches that Riptide left?
People continued to talk and Adam ignored them.
Even as Tadashi and Stardust reached him, talking to him, asking him what was going on, he ignored them. Their words falling on deaf ears, their existence insignificant in that moment as he looked and searched. No, he was on a mission, whatever they said didn’t matter, not now.
There, in the crowds, he saw a flash of red and stopped.
Riptide was smaller in person, thinner, a perfect size to be held and carried. Their hair had become messy, windblown from the race, but still maintained the general curved shape that they had started with, and their jacket and shirt had gotten a little wrinkled, but nothing too bad. He spied a white strand of yarn wrapped around their right wrist. Under that same arm they carried their board, and now that Adam was closer, he could see the deck design more clearly.
An ocean blue backdrop, pale bubbles floating up. Golden tentacles coiling around from out of the edges, as if to grab hold of the board and hold it tight.
Adam grinned as he watched them try to maneuver through the crowd, get away from the skaters asking questions and trying to take photos. It was a slow process, but they did manage to detach themselves from the others as skaters began doing their own thing before the next beef started, allowing the Yonaha King to get away.
As they passed Adam, he backed away to give them room, his grin widening as he caught the scent of lavender and spice.
He continued to watch as Riptide got on their board and skated away, disappearing down one of the other paths, making no moves to follow. Not yet. He just stood, letting the others walk around him, chatting and skating, staring after where Riptide went.
His heart was thrumming in his chest, his skin felt as if it were on fire, electricity running along the flesh, sending tingles from the back of his neck all the way down to the tips of his fingers and toes, his entire being vibrating. His heels clicked the ground once, and then twice, his fingers dancing along the side of his legs as if playing the keys of a piano.
This trip was proving to be rather rewarding.