Exhausted by her skating training, Hana was in a hurry when she got home, with only one wish : lock herself up in her room and sleep until the next day.

The discussions she'd had with Akaashi and Midori that very morning had been on her mind all day. She hadn't paid any attention neither during her lessons nor her revisions in the school library, which prevented her from studying properly as her final exams approached. With just under a month to go, Hana knew she couldn't afford to think about anything else, yet this hadn't stopped her brain from playing back the words the two seniors had spoken to her.

Her lack of attention had continued on the ice, during her training with Madame Aksakova. The lady had repeatedly criticized her for not concentrating enough, telling her that she wouldn't win her March competition with so little effort and willpower. Her coach's comments had been particularly harsh, which hadn't really helped to improve the young woman's already sullen mood.

And to make matters worse, freshly acquired bruises adorned her legs, testimony to the many times Hana had ended up pitifully sprawled on the ice. Just thinking about it made her want to jump out of the window.

—I'm home, the brunette exclaimed mechanically, closing the door with her foot.

When she heard her grandmother's reply, Hana was torn between surprise that she was already home, and annoyance at the idea of having to face her. Since their argument, the tension between them had finally eased, but a certain resentment persisted. They only communicated with each other to exchange the bare minimum, totally avoiding touchy subjects. Neither had brought up what had been said that evening, and perhaps that was for the best.

With shuffling feet, Hana headed for the living room. Her granny was waiting for her, a serious look on her face. On her nose rested a pair of reading glasses, and in her lap a number of sheets of paper, which she seemed to have been reading before Hana arrived. The television was running in the background, but the sound had been muted.

—Sit down, please.

Her grandmother's voice was calm, which reassured the young woman a little. Apparently, what she had to say was not a sermon. That was already a good start.

—What's going on? Hana wanted to know as she took a seat on the sofa opposite. What's this? She asked, pointing with her head to the documents the elderly was holding.

—I'll get to it, Mikoto assured, removing her glasses and placing them on the coffee table. But first, we need to have a serious talk about your future.

Hana didn't reply, waiting for her tutor to explain further. The latter stared at her silently, obviously searching for the most appropriate words. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she spoke with a tired sigh.

—Although I don't agree with everything you said the other day, there's one point on which I agree with you.

Her gaze became slightly brighter than usual, and Hana swore she saw a hint of sadness in it. But she didn't have time to dwell on it. Her grandmother spoke up again.

—I didn't know how to look after you properly, she confessed in a voice so low that Hana almost had to bend her ear to hear her. Despite the fact that Yuki and I never managed to get along, I never wanted you to feel in the same position as him. You're still my granddaughter, and I've never wished anything but the best for you.

The sincerity with which her grandmother expressed herself took her by surprise. In the sixteen years of their existence, and just over three years living under the same roof, Hana had never heard her speak with such emotion in her voice. In front of her, she no longer saw the stern old lady embittered by age she had always known. In front of her, the brunette saw only a woman racked with grief and remorse. The sadness of having lost her precious son and of having failed to love the fruit of his love weighed heavy on her heart. So heavy that Hana didn't know how she'd managed to conceal it until now.

Hana was glad when her grandmother began to speak again, for she would have been incapable of doing so. A knot had formed in her throat, and it grew stronger as the seconds ticked by.

—I realize that our definitions of happiness are not the same, and that I may have been a little too demanding with you. But as I said earlier, I've always done what I thought was right. I wanted to see you succeed at school. But also with figure skating. I sincerely thought you liked it. I never imagined, even for a moment, that this passion wasn't really yours. By encouraging you to go back to competition, I thought it was encouraging you to follow your dream. Not your parents'.

It was only when Hana saw the tears welling up in her grandmother's eyes that she realized she too was crying.

—I'm sorry for everything you had to go through at such a young age, but there's nothing we can do about it.

Hana's tears redoubled, and she made no attempt to hold them back. Her grief was unparalleled, except for the strange feeling of joy she felt at the same time. Her grandmother's words had touched her to the core, but the apology she seemed to want to convey was priceless.

No one had ever apologized for the harm done to her.

—Thank you for your honesty, Grandma, Hana breathed in one breath.

It was brief, but more than enough. Mikoto didn't expect more from her. She knew better than anyone that a simple apology couldn't erase anything. It was already more than she could have hoped for.

With the back of her hand, the gullible woman wiped the underside of her eyes. Hana followed suit. A slight silence followed, just long enough for everyone to recover from their emotions.

—On the other hand, continued the adult, returning her gaze to the brunette. There's one thing we can still change. Something I've always been firmly opposed to, but which today seems to m be the only option left, for putting things right.

—It has something to do with these documents, doesn't it? Hana guessed, and her interlocutor nodded positively.

—But I warn you, I don't think you're going to like it.

—I 'm all ears.

—I've got a proposal for you.