[Yuri on Ice] Everything from the sea

"Yuuri, I think we still need to talk again, talk about something. Or should I ask why you haven't been to the dojo in so long?"

As Victor's wedding day approached, the Katsuki family was filled with joyful busyness—Hiroko was busy contacting church matters, Mari was sorting out complicated items and trying to dress up Victor's old Japanese house as a "Longhe Temple" "What—it's not easy, because Victor's always been a disservice, like when Mari and Yuuri managed to hang an antique violet bed curtain over Victor's double bed, and when they turned to get the ribbons, they came back to find the extravagant Somehow, the velvet bed curtain turned into Victor's sofa cover, and the culprit was lying on it, basking in the sun leisurely. "Yuuri, let's talk again." Viktor rolled lazily over the bed tent, "Don't look at me like that, I just thought this would be a good cover for my sofa, you guys are so kind."

"..." His young friend rolled his eyes and turned to clean the vase on the low table.

"Yuuri—!" "Okay ok Victor," Yuuri threw up his hands in surrender, one hand still holding the vase dangerously, "You can talk about whatever you want, but if you try to go back on this wedding, or want to Something like that weird question, I'll get this right away, he shook the vase. "Throw it on your head. "

Victor said nothing.So Yuuri walked towards the kitchen with the vase in hand.But when he passed the sofa, his arm was grabbed by Victor who got up.He turned his face away irritably, "What the hell—" "Throw it away." Victor said calmly.

Yuuri almost went into a rage for a split second, he'd been covering up his annoying thoughts with busyness, and he hated Viktor like this - yes, he hated it, every time he wanted to go back on his decision, his heart shook, he didn't know Still able to resist such shaking a few times, he almost immediately wanted to yell at that handsome face, but he stopped his temper once again—this expression again, please, don't want it.

Victor looked at him calmly, there was something in his eyes, hesitating, struggling, even—begging?

I must have lost my mind.Yuuri lowered his eyelids, and he searched for a sentence to deal with, but he didn't know what Victor meant, what did his wedding have with his long-time best friend beyond the scope of friendship?Yes, or no—

"What are you doing?" Mari appeared holding a stack of rickety clothes, which made Yuuri grateful, "I said, even if you don't help, don't make trouble here, okay?"

Viktor immediately jumps up, as if Mari is his commander or something at this point, and he pulls a reluctant Yuuri and smiles at Mari, "Sorry, you're so beautiful—we're going out."

But Yuuri broke free from his tug, "I—I need to go to the bathroom." He stomped out the door.Zhenli asked suspiciously behind him: "Victor, is your toilet clogged?"

On the day before the wedding, everything was so-so.The church, the godfather and even the choir, Victor's house was decorated with flowers and flowers - except for Victor's study, which he insisted on keeping people from moving, as if he were a knight, and the study was his last stronghold.

When the afternoon came and the huddled crowd had left — Yuuri was not among them — Viktor put on his coat and went to the entrance to start changing his shoes. "Are you going out?" Anfesa's voice came from behind him, almost startling him. "Yes, I—I'm going to Yuuri's house to take a hot spring." He straightened up, quickly sorted out his confused mind, and put on his usual smile, "You know, the last day of a man's freedom .”

The woman in the pink dress nodded, but seemed to hold back.

"What's the matter, my dear Comrade Kapushkin?" he smiled, and the tone was so familiar, as they were in the school's communist group meeting, that Anfisa couldn't help smiling, too, and she said, "You When will you be back? I can wait for you to come back—and then go back to the hotel."

"Oh—you don't have to wait for me, I mean—" Victor hurriedly waved his hands, "I mean, you can stay, Comrade Kapushkin."

"Really? But this is not good, tomorrow—" Anfisa blushed, and she twisted the rag in her hand.But she didn't continue, because when she looked up, she saw the door closed, and there was a voice outside the door, "See you later, Anfisa!"

Victor puts away his smile, tugs at the collar of his coat, and walks down the side street to Yuuri's house.He was very upset.Why is time passing so fast?Why did it come to "tomorrow" in the blink of an eye?How did he let time pass in such a muddle until now?Should he—should he give himself another chance?

He pushed open the back door of Yuuri's house and walked quietly to Yuuri's room—every time he came, if he met someone else, Yuuri would always find a chance not to be alone with him—he stood in front of the familiar wooden door, Gathering his mind, he knocked on the door.

The door opened quickly, but fortunately, the person inside just wrinkled his nose and made way for him to come in.There was an inexplicable joy in his heart, and he quickly flashed in and closed the door.

"Yuuri—are you okay?" Victor sat on Yuuri's bed, watched Yuuri carefully take a pot of small yellow flowers from the window sill, and held it in front of him, he recognized that it was a pot of goldenseal. "I originally wanted to give it to you at the wedding tomorrow, but since you're here." Yuuri put the flower on Victor's knee, "This is the longevity grass on the day of the 'spring equinox', the old people said it was very spiritual, Victor—I wish you happiness. "

"Wow—this is amazing." Victor carefully held up the pot of flowers and observed, automatically ignoring the latter sentence of blessing in his mind, with a bright smile on his face, making him seem to be surrounded by happy little stars.It makes Yuuri catch the joy too, and they look at each other and smile like they used to cut a birthday cake together or unfurl a Christmas wreath together.For a few seconds, Yuuri feels like he's stepped back in time—if Victor hadn't said the next sentence.

"Yuuri, why are you avoiding me?" Victor placed the flower carefully on the bedside table, crossing his arms.

"I didn't—" "You hid." Victor's smile disappeared, and his body began to exude a low air pressure, just like before when Yuuri forgot to do his arithmetic homework, the difference is that the other party is no longer the same as him. It was the obedient little boy, which made him frustrated, and he watched the other party silently looking out of the window, and continued word by word, "I thought—I thought you would be happier if I agreed to your request, would be closer to me, but—”

"How could it be my request?" Yuuri started to look at him angrily, "Obviously it was Anfisa who came to propose to you, and you agreed—" "I agreed only at your request." Victor cut him off again, which made the other person completely angry, and he pointed to Victor's nose and said, "We've talked— Victor, don't bother me with this anymore, I'm not your parent, Why do you want me to comment on your marriage?"

He felt fidgety and powerless for a while, he didn't know how long he could hold on, and those crooked thoughts kept popping up in his mind, as if there was a villain pushing him to let him impulsively smash everything that was arranged , yelling everything at that person, and a villain kept replaying in his mind what Anfisa told him that day—he felt his head split in two again and again these days Half.

Victor was silent for a few seconds.Then he asks calmly, "One last time, Yuuri. Are you really bothered? You really don't have a problem with-" He sees Yuuri's unconvinced, seemingly nonchalant face , My heart sank completely.So he could only put on a normal, righteous tone, "Aren't you my best friend?"

"Best friend—you really—" Yuuri stammered as if choking, "Did you ask me as if I were your best friend?"

Victor didn't answer.But obviously Yuuri felt that the other party had acquiesced in this matter.His face was red and white, as if he had been shot in the heart by an arrow, and he sat down in the chair slumped, "Yes, you are right. As your best friend, I should express my opinion. Your age Not small, I mean—" he said softly, "Anfisa is fine, you should be her husband, Victor."

His deer-like brown-red eyes seemed to be flickering in the setting sun, "You go."

The author has something to say: Author: Ah!I love double misunderstanding!

Reader: (kicks) Get off!