SK8 the Infinity if Route: The Other Queen, Kiriko
Night swallows the ruins of Camp Falcon, and the only law that matters is speed. In the underground world called "S," skaters shed their names and their pasts to chase one thing—the thrill of the downhill race. Among them, the silver-haired Ranga shines brightest: a boy who rides like he's still carving through untouched snow, utterly oblivious to the hearts he turns along the way.
But fame has a price. When a single photo from his past leaks online, the walls between
SK8 the Infinity if Route: The Other Queen, Kiriko - Late-Night S and the Photograph of a Vanished Smile
It was a muggy night.
A lukewarm breeze stirred the hair of the youths loitering in the convenience store parking lot. Only the glow of the EveryMart Uruma Central Store sign seemed oddly bright.
"Ranga! Over here, over here!"
Reki, his reddish-brown hair spiked up, waved his hand broadly. His usual bandana was wrapped around his forehead, and his round, bright brown eyes were full of energy. In the hand holding his skateboard, he clutched another board wrapped in cloth.
"Sorry I'm late. I was practicing at the skate park."
Ranga slowly parked his bicycle. His bluish-silver hair drifted softly in the night breeze. His clear, water-blue eyes caught the convenience store's light and sparkled like stars. A loose hoodie, distressed jeans, and beat-up skate shoes. The silver piercing in his left ear swayed faintly. He was a tall, slim half-Japanese silhouette you'd never see in Okinawa.
"That's your excuse for being late? Just how much of a skate idiot are you?"
A small shadow looked up at Ranga, shaking black hair that stuck up like cat ears. The tips were dyed light blue. His big cat-like eyes were deep green, and right now they were glaring at Ranga with annoyance. He stood only 148 centimeters tall. His build was delicate, befitting a middle schooler, but his gaze looked down on Ranga and the others—who were older—completely.
"Come on, sorry, Miya. But the new board's been feeling great."
Ranga laughed, entirely unapologetic.
"Fifteen minutes of waiting. That's three ice creams."
"Huh? Why?"
"It's your punishment for making me wait, obviously! Jeez, being naturally oblivious is a crime."
Even as he said it, the corner of Miya's mouth was slightly relaxed. His sharp tongue was a cover for embarrassment and the flip side of his trust in his friends. At his core was a kindness that always had him rushing to help whenever Ranga and the others were in trouble. But since he couldn't express that honestly, it came out like this.
Reki dramatically pulled off the cloth wrapping.
"Here! Check it out, Ranga! Your next deck!"
The skateboard deck that appeared was designed with red and black flames intertwining. Every line had been carefully carved out, and it was obvious at a glance how much time Reki had poured into it.
Ranga's eyes lit up instantly.
"You made this, Reki? Amazing! It's so cool!"
"Right? Took me three nights to finish. I made the concave a bit stronger to match your riding style. Re-gripped it too, and tuned the trucks—"
As Reki explained enthusiastically, about four female skaters came out of the convenience store entrance. They were probably heading to tonight's "S" as well. They noticed Ranga's silver hair and whispered among themselves.
When Ranga noticed their gazes—
He smiled brightly and waved.
"Oh, good evening! You guys heading to S too?"
The female skaters let out excited squeals. When one of them worked up the courage to wave back, Ranga smiled even more happily.
The smile vanished from Reki's face.
(I stayed up three nights making that...)
Ranga didn't notice Reki's complicated expression at all. He kept touching the new deck, but his gaze was turned toward where the girls had gone.
"Reki, this board feels amazing! Oh, those people earlier had nice boards too. Everyone really loves skating, huh."
"...Are you seriously saying that?"
"Huh? Yeah."
Reki let out a heavy sigh. Miya chuckled.
"Give up, Reki. You'll never beat this naturally popular guy in a million years."
"I'm not popular! I just said hello."
"That obliviousness is the worst part."
The three of them got on their bicycles and rode off into the night city.
Their destination: the ruins of Camp Falcon. An old U.S. military communications facility on the northern hills of Uruma City. Now an abandoned ruin, and on weekend nights, S was held there—Uruma's most dangerous and most passionate underground downhill skate race.
S had rules. The most important one was "no real-life exposure"—you don't reveal real names or schools online. Break that, and you're permanently banished from this scene. There were also one-on-one "beefs"—duels where the winner takes the bet. Money, boards, sometimes even "date rights." Everything was managed through the anonymous social media app "Voltex," and your follower count directly became your standing as a skater.
Ranga vaguely recalled the rules he'd been taught. But the details didn't matter to him. He just wanted to skate.
Cutting through the wind, gliding through the dark. That alone was enough.
Slipping through the broken fence of Camp Falcon, he found a crowd of skaters already gathered. The starting point, "Gate Zero"—the rooftop of the old administration building. Eighty-five meters above sea level. From here, you bomb down the slope in one go.
Ranga placed his new deck on the ground and pushed off lightly.
With just a single kick against the ground, the board glided smoothly forward. Ranga's body swayed with a unique rhythm honed through snowboarding. As if gliding down a snowy slope, he flowed across the asphalt.
Before he knew it, the gazes of the surrounding skaters had gathered on Ranga.
"...What is that?" "That's snowboarding movement."
Ranga didn't care about the attention at all. Or rather, he didn't even understand it.
(Everyone really loves skating, huh.)
Smiling happily, he spun through a clean turn. More squeals rose from the female skaters.
"Everyone really loves skating!"
Ranga's eyes as he smiled at Reki were pure innocence itself.
"...You."
Reki scratched his head, but still managed a small smile. This idiotically pure best friend of his was infuriating. But—he was still amazing.
The race began.
A dozen-plus riders shot off at once. The sound of wheels biting into asphalt echoed through the night ruins. They immediately hit the first obstacle: the "Black Pipe."
An abandoned communications cable tunnel, 180 meters long. You ride through complete darkness at over 50 kilometers per hour. The only guide is a tiny light at the exit.
Ranga felt no fear.
He'd ridden down a whiteout on a snowy mountain in Canada. Even with zero visibility, he could read the line from just the sound of the wind and the vibrations through the soles of his feet.
Right, left, and right again.
The board skimmed past the wall by a hair. As skaters around him dropped out one after another, slowing down, Ranga cleared the tunnel with the precision of broad daylight.
The next obstacle, "Death Corner," loomed ahead. A sharp curve at the edge of a cliff, with no guardrail or anything. Fall, and you'd slam into limestone eight meters below. Three people had broken bones there in the past.
Everyone hit the brakes. But—
Ranga accelerated.
(I can make it from that rock, right there.)
At the very edge of the cliff, on a tiny protrusion no normal person would ever step on, he kicked off with his right foot. The board floated for an instant, then landed as if sucked into the inner side of the cliff by gravity.
Cheers and screams erupted at the same time.
"Did you see that!?" "That foreigner's insane!"
Reki watched Ranga's back from a little behind.
(He really is something else...)
Frustration and pride churned together in his chest.
(You keep going further and further away. Can I—can I ever catch up to that?)
Ranga flew into the goal area, the "Pit." A roar of cheers erupted from the old parking lot packed with nearly two hundred spectators. Music celebrating the winner poured from a makeshift DJ booth.
Ranga's phone buzzed immediately. The Voltex rankings updated, and Ranga's name shot to first place. His follower count spiked instantly.
"You did it! Ranga, you're number one!"
Reki, who'd finished later, pointed at the phone screen. Miya caught up right after, and the three of them looked at each other.
"Amazing! But it's thanks to everyone."
"There you go again. Don't get cocky with that smooth talk."
Miya grumbled but smiled anyway. Reki lightly clapped Ranga on the shoulder.
That was when it happened.
Miya's expression suddenly froze.
"...Wait a second."
He held out his phone. The Voltex timeline was open.
On it—
There was a photo of a small boy. A silver-haired child in a chunky snowman costume, looking embarrassed but happy, smiling.
"The true identity of S's rising star?"
With that caption, it had already been reposted thousands of times. The comments section overflowed with mockery and curiosity.
"This... this is you, isn't it, Ranga."
The color drained from Ranga's face.
"Why... this was from an album back in Canada..."
"Someone took the photo and spread it. That's what happened."
Miya began analyzing calmly.
"This angle—it was taken from close to you. At the very least, the culprit is someone near you. An informant, basically."
"That can't be! Everyone's a friend!"
Ranga raised his voice—a rare thing. But Reki—
Stayed silent.
Reki, who'd been laughing with them just moments ago, suddenly grew quiet and wouldn't meet Ranga's eyes. Restlessly, he scratched at his board's grip tape with his fingers.
"...Reki?"
Even when Ranga called out to him, Reki kept his head down.
(Why? Something's off with him.)
For the first time, a small sense of unease budded inside Ranga. What was this restless feeling in his chest? Reki had never once looked away from him before.
But—
Ranga's mind immediately moved in a different direction.
"Reki, does your stomach hurt or something? Are you okay?"
Miya face-planted.
"Wrooong!! Why would you jump to that, you really can't read the room!!"
"Huh, but Reki, you look pale..."
"That part's true, but the reason's different!!"
Miya's shout echoed through the night ruins.
But even then, Reki didn't say a single word. He just stared at the ground, biting his lip.
Ranga tilted his head, completely lost.
(Something's weird with everyone. But I don't really get it.)
In the distance, a countdown announced the start of the next race. The muggy Okinawan night breeze slipped between the three of them.
Someone laughed, someone shouted, someone fell silent.
The night of S wasn't over yet.
A shadow of suspicion quietly fell into a corner of Ranga's heart. But what it meant, he still didn't understand.
Novelia is an AI-powered platform to read original light novels and fan fiction, create your own in just a few taps, and chat with the characters. New, illustrated episodes arrive daily — free to start.