#(( kdjfngdjkgdd - Kichiro is ready to Fite a man right now lmao ))

[not-bcring]

It had been a hard hit, one that had the usual powerhouse of a player crumpling to the ice with his shout of pain clearly heard across the ice, every player sliding to a stop at the unfamiliar sound. He was called Moose for a reason, the winger able to take a hit and give one in return without so much of a blink, able to play through the pain no matter what was thrown at him. He had taken pucks to the mouth, had players land on him, been flipped fully off his feet only to get back up and keep playing, but this? This was bad.

One thing most everyone knew about Nicky is that he didn't swear, and when he did, it was never anything that would be considered overly vulger. He had grown up around cameras, people watching his every move on the ice, it was bad PR to swear, not that he felt a need to anyways, but he always tried to keep it clean. So when he was checked into the boards, his leg twisting at an odd angle that had him unable to even stand, writhing there on the ice with unmistakable pain on his face as his voice bounced across the stadium? It had the entire game at a standstill, just over one word.

"Fuck!"

It was enough to call an all stop, players from both teams surrounding him, trying to check his wellbeing, trying to help as he was stretchered off the ice. Even through his pain, vison a blinding white as he was hauled off the ice, Nick managed to grip a fist in the front of his coaches shirt, wrenching him downwards to nearly pull him onto the stretcher alongside him. "Tell Kichiro I'm alright." Even with his leg undoubtedly broken, they were still the first thing on his mind... //we both know kichiro dont believe him lmao

-  ✩   「 @from-across-the-stars 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   Kichiro never knew much about hockey until they met Nick. Honestly? They still doubt they know much about it… Far too swept up in the high-energy excitement of the game, rules are lost on them in the thrill of simply being there. Getting to watch these men duke it out in a gladiator-esque game of will and strength. That’s how Kichiro likes to think of it. Perhaps that’s overdramatic; a romanticization of a game they can’t be bothered to study when not watching their crush best friend skating on the ice, but it works for them. So, why change it? Despite their limited knowledge— they can tell when someone scores, and that seems to be the basics of any game —it’s crystal clear when things have gone wrong during a game. It happens. Often.

But this? This isn’t the usual wrong… This is WRONG.

Immediately standing when Nick hits the boards, before the curse can even echo— as if instincts had taken over —Kichiro is hurriedly making their way past seats. Hasty apologies quickly break into irritated snaps to ‘ watch it ’ after they’ve tripped a few times over uncaring feet refusing to scoot out of the way, politeness merely a formality that was unconcernedly cast aside when not returned. Frankly they’d force their way through a tightly-packed crowd if need be to get to Nick, only the fact that everyone else was sitting keeping them from getting unceremoniously shoved aside. In the grand scheme of things, everyone here matters very little. Practically walking dust in the swirling mass of an uncaring universe. 

In the grand scheme of Kichiro’s life? These people matter even LESS than that… Heart pounding painfully, they force themselves to watch their breathing, gaze riveted intently on the stretcher as it takes Nick away, and not on their own frantic footwork. Determined to see where it goes, Kichiro loses their balance, haphazardly fumbling to the ground with a hissed,  ❝  Shit.  ❞  Much like Nick, they aren’t usually one to curse. Especially not for things like this, having grown rather numbed to incidences both big and small. But in their frazzled state— Nick had looked like he was in immense pain; a sort of pain that Kichiro never wanted to see on his face —it’s the first and only thing out of their mouth.

Picking themself off the ground, Kichiro scrambles to their feet, clumsily wiping blood from their split lip as they look around for the stretcher. It had only been out of sight for a moment, but in the chaos, that was enough. No matter. Kichiro saw the general direction it was going and they’ve watched enough games to have a good enough guess of where severely injured players would get hauled off to. Without any regard to whether they are even ALLOWED this close, they shove themself towards where they need to be, bristling when a coach steps into their path. Panic Aggravation practically making them tremble, Kichiro glares up at the man with the intensity of someone willing to get into ANY amount of trouble... 

❝  I need to see Nicky. Now.  ❞     「 ☆ 」