勝生 勇利, Katsuki Yūri (
theglassheart) wrote2017-06-13 03:10 pm
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{ Between 1.03-1.04; July } It's The Perfect Day for a Beach Trip!
The alarm goes off spine-shatteringly sharp and loud and Yuri's glance out of the blanket at the menacing green numbers is owlish and more than a little annoyed. He had been sure he'd turned that off, while climbing into his bed, after Victor declared they were taking a break today. Victor declared things pretty often, that wasn't anything new, and might or might not have been helped by the fact Yuri rarely (never) argued with these declarations.
At least the never that existed where only his eyebrows went up and there was confused spluttering,
but Victor seemed to take more of those as further encouragement to dole out detail of his declaration.
Today was a day off. Today they were going to rest, or go to beach ... or something?
Victor had been rambling about something. Bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Smiling that too bright, inspiration has struck, time will stand still, smile.
Had it been somewhere else or something new he'd heard of? There'd been more, but yawning, and pulling his blanket up over his shoulder, and ears and almost eyes, all that was left in Yuri's head was that if he didn't have to be up at dawn, at the Ice Palace, he and his sore muscles could go back to sleep instead of paying any attention to the barely rising sun or whatever happened right before he went to sleep.
At least the never that existed where only his eyebrows went up and there was confused spluttering,
but Victor seemed to take more of those as further encouragement to dole out detail of his declaration.
Today was a day off. Today they were going to rest, or go to beach ... or something?
Victor had been rambling about something. Bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Smiling that too bright, inspiration has struck, time will stand still, smile.
Had it been somewhere else or something new he'd heard of? There'd been more, but yawning, and pulling his blanket up over his shoulder, and ears and almost eyes, all that was left in Yuri's head was that if he didn't have to be up at dawn, at the Ice Palace, he and his sore muscles could go back to sleep instead of paying any attention to the barely rising sun or whatever happened right before he went to sleep.
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He doesn't want to be back here by lunch. He doesn't want to go into this day already planning to cut it short, to lose any of the precious hours he's managing to glean here. And it's not only that he selfishly wants this time with Yuri: Yuri needs this break. He's been training to exhaustion almost every day, continually pushing past the point where Victor is nothing more than a limp rag slouched against the rink wall. His stamina, always impressive, has improved even further, but that concerns Victor, too. It's too easy to overtrain and burn out. Even if Yuri has the energy for it, his body still needs time to recuperate and rest, or he'll wind up injuring himself, blowing out a knee or tweaking his back or shoulder. Yuri's never had a major injury that would push him out of competition, and Victor means to keep it that way.
What kind of a coach would he be, if he didn't force his skater to take a break every now and again in order to come back the next day and work harder than ever? "Let's take a picnic lunch with us!"
Or at least some onigiri and a few bottles of water. He really doesn't care what they do for meals, as long as lunch isn't an opportunity for Yuri to run away to the rink for a few secretive laps around the ice.
Besides, Maccachin would like that. And who doesn't love picnics?
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Then scoops another bite of fish, and, then, rice and vegetables into his mouth, crunching them down while thinking about details. Letting the little pieces falling into place in his head continue helping him wake up more and more, without a shower or a run. Sunscreen, and maybe even sandals depending. His wallet for wherever Victor will inevitably drag him off, too.
It really is that inevitable.
Whether it's going to be the closest businesses or
another building that catches his attention in the distance.
He's at least mostly sure. Yuri picked up his tea cup to sip at the cooled tea.
"If you want to get some of the larger towels from the onsen, after we're finished, I can see what we have in the kitchen that could be packed up already." Or he could see what could be constructed quickly enough into one of any of the many bentos. That wasn't too hard at all. It'd be easier than setting Victor loose in a kitchen full of things he didn't know where all to find, and Victor knew just fine where to find the towels.
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(And terrible.)
(But mostly wonderful.)
"Okay!"
He hasn't ever mastered the art of appearing less enthusiastic than he actually is. Of all the lessons Yakov imparted on him, the ability to remain stone-faced has never been one he'd absorbed, or even wanted. The idea of spending a day at the beach with Yuri is just too perfect to be anything less than thrilled about. Even the prospect of hauling along their gear -- towels, food, water, and all the rest -- feels warmly domestic and appealing.
When was the last time he had a picnic on the beach with anyone?
He'd sat down before Yuri and has always been a fast eater, so he's nearly finished, now, only tips the rest of his tea down his throat and takes a few final bites. "What else should we bring?"
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"I suppose that depends," Yuri says after finishing another bite of his rice and vegetables. "On how long you want to be down there. We might still have beach chairs or an umbrella, too. In storage."
But Yuri's not entirely enthused about the idea of carrying them back and forth, and he's not positive he believes Victor will stay still on the beach for long enough that Yuri won't end up worrying the chairs are going to go missing in that event Victor drags him off to see something. Even if half the time it's encased in dragging Yuri somewhere that Yuri has to take him, wherever it is, and explain what it is, and answer a hundred questions on top of that.
"We used to have them and floats, a ball or two, back before I moved to America." He's relatively certain there's nothing more embarrassing there, for any time when he and Mari were younger. Though it does leave him paused, trying to remember when the last time he'd gone with his family might have been. The year he left? Or was it even further back, since those years he'd been in Juniors gearing for Seniors. For America.