METALLIC || Michael Kaiser x Reader

You should've chosen a different path.

Anything would've been better, anything. As long as if it wasn't figure skating—you should've chosen a different talent and passion to pursue.

Haisha-hime. That is the name the internet had given you—"Haisha," meaning "defeated person," otherwise, a loser.

A loser who has never once received an opportunity to advance to regional competitions. Hardly anyone even knew you—only the fact you were in a club that was already rising to popularity way before you joined.

You thought, maybe it didn't really matter.

But oh, you were wrong.

This—strangely enough—made you the perfect victim for your peers to relieve their stress. Although, they believed themselves to be too superior to be just your peer.

Probably all because they have some peculiar strangers from the web cheering them on.

"Hiyuhime."

You are snapped out of your daze by your coach—Watanabe—with the call of your surname.

"You do realize you won't be able to continue your career here if you're walking on a path without recognition, right?"

Ah, not this shit again.

The smile on your lips remain, albeit noticeably strained now unlike before when you would to make yourself seem approachable. But that clearly didn't work, considering you haven't befriended anyone.

A loner; how typical.

". . ." Watanabe's eyes taper at your smile, but does not comment on it. "I'll do my best to make my superiors give you one last chance. So don't think of taking it for granted, got it?"

You blink.

The smile on your lips pressing into a line as your coach disappears from your line of vision.

A path without recognition.

Right. Why exactly did you start this path?

It's not even like figure skating gets as much media attention like basketball or other sports.

So, for fun?

Why?

THUD.

You weren't given any time to brace yourself, resulting in a fatal slam against the lockers—well, you're sure to have a bruise somewhere on your back again.

"Hey. You better not get all excited because coach's giving you another chance."

I know. You continue to smile, saying nothing in response in knowledge of if you do it'll only escalate things further.

"You should've just chosen a different path, seriously."

What?

Your [e/c] hues flit to the ravenette who'd said that, smile subtly shifting into a line.

"Huh?"

"Oh look. She must've finally been affected after all this time."

"Whatever. Ignore it."

Ignore it.

.

.

.

Haishu-hime.

The new title those cheering strangers has bestowed upon you. "Haishu," meaning "jewel" or "pearl."

[Name] Hiyuhime, the figure skater who's official debut occurred in the Junior Grand Prix—with a score of 185 points in first place.

A performance based off "Swan Lake" that had entranced the audience and the judges, the outcome bursting with loud roars of applause.

With that, you had become significantly more relevant in this "figure skating world."

Being recognized—it feels good.

But most importantly . . .

Stepping outside of the locker room, you glance at the woman sitting on the bench
—someone that had hit rock bottom.

You saunter over to her with a smile, recognizing her—your hand plops down on her shoulder shamelessly.

At the contact, she unconsciously flinches before whipping her head to glare at who had dared to do that. But apparently, not having the guts to, as the blood drains from her face.

"Can't keep up?" you query, beam fading into a glowering frown. "Better swap occupations while you can, then."

"Y, you!" the ravenette's volume was hushed, yet her tone suggested otherwise.

"Ah-ah. Watch it, dog," you reprimand, clicking your tongue. "This is how you discipline a pet, right? I learned it from you."

Her jaw slacks, mouth opening to say something—anything—but when nothing comes out, she gets up and dashes for it like the coward she is.

Intimidation sure does work wonders when you're a lot more bigger. Curious.

. . . being able to crush those who wronged you the way they felt privileged to.

Is it wrong of you to hold grudges?

Sure.

Do you care?

No.

At least not when the sole reason you began this "pilgrimage" was for "that."

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A/N:
The pacing is so bad but I just hope it was coherent enough 😭. Also shorter than I wanted it to be, but I feel like more would've worsened the pacing.