A little farther away, at the start of the intermediate run, Madara Uchiha had already changed into a full set of ski gear.
He stood quietly at the edge of the slope, bent his knees slightly, adjusted his stance, then looked down the winding run ahead.
His movements were textbook, even carrying a steadiness honed through countless repetitions. He looked nothing like a beginner.
At some point, Satoru Gojo had also glided over on his skis and stopped beside him, his smile as bright as ever. "Yo, ready, Madara? We'll start on this intermediate run and go all the way to the café entrance at the foot of the mountain. First one there wins. Sound good?"
Madara nodded without speaking and simply pulled his goggles down over his eyes.
"Then-"
Gojo also pulled down his ridiculously oversized goggles, leaning forward slightly into a textbook starting stance.
"-3, 2, 1..."
"Go!"
Two figures, one black and one white, shot from the starting point at the same time like arrows loosed from a bow, racing down the pristine white slope toward the foot of the mountain!
The black figure was like a cheetah blending into the shadows, incredibly fast yet astonishingly steady, carving a smooth, sharp black trail down the run.
The white figure, meanwhile, was like a wild, unrestrained bolt of lightning, just as frighteningly fast, but utterly different in style.
His skiing was full of spontaneity and abandon. One moment he executed difficult turns and jumps; the next he skimmed dangerously close to obstacles, drawing gasps from the visitors on the neighboring runs.
Yet with some unbelievable sense of balance and speed of reaction, he always regained control of his skis and kept accelerating.
One ahead of the other, the two figures sped along the winding run, sending up two