Ice King Obsession のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

Morning arrived like a blade sharp, bright, and unforgiving.Sheila barely slept.The moment replayed in her mind over and over again. The way Atticus had looked at her. The way his voice had broken when he admitted what he wanted. The way her own body had frozen instead of reacting instantly.She hated that part most.By the time she reached the arena, her coffee had gone cold in her hand, untouched. The air outside still carried the early chill of winter, and as she pushed through the heavy glass doors, the familiar scent of polished ice and equipment oil hit her like déjà vu.She needed today to be normal.Structured.Professional.No tension. No emotional chaos.The universe, apparently, had other plans.The arena was louder than usual. Staff members hurried past her in tight clusters, whispering urgently. A few cameras were already stationed near the entrance to the rink, their red lights blinking like warning signals.Her stomach dropped.“What’s going on?” she asked one of the

Morning came with a sharp frost that painted the arena windows in pale silver streaks. The building always felt cold, but today it carried something sharper beneath the chill anticipation mixed with dread.Sheila barely slept.The anonymous email replayed in her mind all night, the words echoing every time she closed her eyes. He won’t survive this season. It sounded less like a warning and more like a promise.She stepped into the arena earlier than usual, hoping the quiet would help her think. Instead, the silence made everything louder inside her head.The rink lights were dim, only half switched on, reflecting faintly off the untouched ice. The scent of cold air and polished metal filled her lungs as she walked toward the analyst station.She placed her bag down, exhaling slowly, trying to steady herself.“Couldn’t sleep either?”The voice startled her.She turned sharply to find Coach Rivera standing behind her, holding a steaming cup of coffee. He looked exhausted, his eyes sha

The storm didn’t break immediately.It lingered.Heavy. Suffocating. Waiting.Three days had passed since the message appeared on Sheila’s phone and since the kiss neither of them had spoken about again. Three days of distance that felt louder than any argument they had ever had. Three days of Atticus watching her like he was memorizing every movement she made while pretending he wasn’t.And three days of Sheila pretending she didn’t feel the echo of his lips every time she closed her eyes.Practice that evening was brutal.Not in the usual competitive way. This was something sharper. Harder. The kind of energy that made veterans uneasy and rookies quiet. Atticus pushed through drills with mechanical precision, every movement calculated, every shot fired with punishing force. He didn’t speak to anyone longer than necessary.Especially not her.Sheila stayed at her station, fingers flying across her tablet, tracking muscle strain and recovery speeds, but her focus fractured every time

The arena lights had long gone out, leaving only the faint glow of the hallway emergency lamps guiding the empty corridors. The echo of earlier cheers still rang faintly in Sheila’s ears as she walked toward the locker rooms, her hockey bag hanging loosely over her shoulder. Her body was exhausted, but her mind refused to rest. Especially after what had happened between her and Atticus lately. The almost touches. The stolen glances. The second kiss that still lingered on her lips like a dangerous memory she couldn’t erase. She pushed open the locker room door, expecting it to be empty. The team had already left for the night. But she froze instantly. Atticus sat alone on the bench, still in his training jersey, his elbows resting on his knees while his fingers played absentmindedly with his hockey gloves. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, making his expression unreadable. Her heartbeat stumbled. “I thought you left,” she said quietly, closing the door behind he

The arena lights dimmed slightly as evening practice began, casting long shadows across the ice that made the rink feel larger than usual. The leaked footage had spread faster than anyone expected. By the time warmups started, speculation was already flooding fan forums and sports blogs. No names. No confirmation. Just curiosity sharp enough to cut reputations open.Sheila stood behind the plexiglass boards, tablet in hand, watching the team circle through drills. She forced herself to focus on numbers speed metrics, stamina logs, recovery intervals anything that would keep her mind from drifting back to the image on Coach Reynolds’ screen earlier that morning.Across the rink, Atticus moved like a storm being held together by sheer discipline. Every glide was sharp, every pass precise, every shot powerful enough to rattle the netting. To anyone else, he looked completely in control.Sheila noticed the difference.His movements were too exact. Too tight. Like he was skating inside inv