[Yuri on Ice] Everything from the sea

The author has something to say: I remind you that this article is not an instant noodle article. Read the article carefully, otherwise you will miss a lot of hints and plots

Victor lay on the sofa, raised his neck and looked at the dim wall clock on the wall of the living room through the moonlight outside the window. 10:30.With his head back on the sofa cushion, he tugged on the blanket and continued to toss and turn.It must have been a sleepless night, he thought.

What about tomorrow?Just go on like this?How did he get it to this point - but he thought he'd done all he could, if Yuuri thought it would be fine.It's just, why is he so unhappy, why can't he greet his life's major event happily like a groom?unhappy, frustrated, even angry.

He couldn't lie down.He got up, looked at the closed bedroom door, and took out a pack of cigarettes from under the coffee table next to the sofa.With the slight "click" sound of the lighter, the slight flame from the cigarette butt reflected his serious and tough face flickeringly.

But what right did he have to be angry?The object to be married is a kind-hearted, beautiful woman with similar hobbies to his, whose height, nationality, and figure are all suitable for him. She likes him very much, and he can even foresee that she will be a good wife and mother.He is 28 years old, and many of his peers have children running around.He also has a little affection for her. According to the standards of an ordinary man, he has no reason to refuse this marriage.Except—except for the sad and strange feelings in his true heart that he had hidden for an unknown number of years.However, the person in his heart doesn't know, or even notice - he can also guess how he would react if he knew, nausea, disappointment?He obviously liked a girl like Yuko.What could he do but accept after the last of the afternoon's hopes had faded?If he told him, he must wish to stay away from him, and even never want to see him again, right?

no.That's the only thing that doesn't work.Victor gritted his teeth and took a long drag on his cigarette.

No matter what happens, I will never leave you again.This is the last room I have left for my heart.

However, he couldn't control his heartache.When he thinks of that black-haired young man, his heart has always been warm and happy, but it has never made him feel so painful like now or today.Memories rose from his heart like bubbles, and then burst into pieces of red, bloody fireworks—this was another kind of parting, just like when he made the decision to leave 4 years ago with tears As painful as it is, but as cold as another winter covered with cold snowflakes—maybe starting from tomorrow, he will never have the chance to say those words to him in his life.

no.He needs something now, something to comfort this pain, this missing of him - even if it's a pathetic self-deception.He put out the third cigarette butt, stood up and looked at the closed bedroom door again, walked into the study, and closed the door.He walked to the bookshelf, took out a book - "Complete Book of Japanese Myths and Stories" (the book that Yuuri gave him when he first arrived and forced him to read it with him), sat at the desk, and Moonlight turned the pages of the book and took out a letter-like paper that was full of creases.

He looked at those blurred words under the moonlight, those warm, hot, sincere words that he wrote for him but never only showed to himself.Then his figure appeared in his mind, his cute smile, his meticulous care for him, his every word——

He stroked the paper with his fingers, stroking the vague affection.fine.fine.He heard himself say.

Fortunately, there is still you here.

A hot tear fell on the mottled paper.He couldn't control his tears, just like he couldn't control his turbulent emotions, he wanted to be presumptuous for the last time, say goodbye to the past, and always be by his side as a close friend and a mentor—

But his indulgence was interrupted.He thought he heard a soft knock at the door—he had forgotten to lock it.Then he heard a rush of footsteps sprinting into his house, and then a knock at the door—someone was knocking at the bedroom door.

Anfisa was awakened by the knock on the door, and she yawned and got off the bed and tried to put on her coat, but she hesitated for a moment, as if awake.She stood there for a moment in embarrassment, then she put down her coat and opened the door. "Yuuri—! Oh my god, it's you! Wait a minute, wait a minute—" She closed the door in a panic.

"Anfisa—why are you here, you, Viktor, you—" Yuuri leaned against the door frame, and seemed to wake up for a moment, and then he smiled self-deprecatingly, "Yeah, it's nothing strange." Afterwards, he felt even more dizzy, and the discomfort in his heart made him want to slide and sit on the ground—he saw that Anfisa was only wearing a nightgown, and the two white ribbons on her shoulders were so vivid in the dim light, "Although it is very Sorry to bother you, but can I—see Victor? I forgot one important thing—”

"God, Yuuri, did you drink too much? How much did you drink to get like this? Didn't Hiroko notice? Oh my god—wait a minute, I'll get you a towel and you wipe your face first— Putting on her coat, Anfisa hurried past Yuuri and walked towards the bathroom, "Victor! Why are you here!" She passed the door of the study, and saw the door was wide open, and Victor stood there stupidly, looking at Yuuri in the living room, "Why are your eyes so red?"

"Get a towel." Victor said shortly, without looking at her, "If there is still trouble, please pour me a cup of hot tea."

"Victor—" Yuuri was still wearing the black sportswear of the afternoon, standing crookedly watching the man across from him striding towards him, staring at him with pity.His glasses were askew on one side, his face was red like a fiery sunset, and he lisp like a child just learning to talk, "Victor — Victor, I need you to finally... help me again busy."

"What's the matter?" Viktor replied automatically, his hand on Yuuri's alcohol-burned ear, then his cheek.He sighed softly, "Yuuri, why are you drinking so much?"

"Don't- don't ask me why." Yuuri pouted, but his hand moved to the big hand that touched his cheek - it was cool and comfortable on his drunken burning face , "You just have to do me one last favor—you have to—help me write another love letter."

"What?" Victor asked inexplicably, and at the same time felt a little uncomfortable in his heart.But he still couldn't bear to let go of his hand on that skin.

"Yes, love letter." Yuuri smirks, his eyes clouded, his face full of joy, anticipation and a hint of dreaminess.

He regretted that he only thought of wanting a souvenir now, unlike the birthday presents, Christmas presents, and even adult gifts that Victor gave him, he wanted a souvenir gift for himself before he got married, so that he could remember In the long days to come, I can secretly watch and recall by myself-and Victor's love letter is the best medium, and God knows why he kept writing his name when he was young.

"What are you going to do?" Victor's voice cooled down, "You have someone you like again?"

"——sort of." Yuuri observed the changes in his expression in his blurred vision, and his warm heart slowly cooled down, "It's okay, you can imagine that Anfisa wrote it in your mind. Please——"

"So you got yourself drunk so you could confess like a brave idiot?" Victor's hand dropped from his cheek to his side.

"Yeah, you know I've always had no confidence in myself." Yuuri tried to make it up, even though his lack of confidence was true, "I can't write it better than you, please Victor—"

Victor was silent.Then he took a deep breath and firmly refused, "No."

Just this one time.Victor told himself in his heart.Just stop him capriciously once, just once.

"You—" Yuuri got a little annoyed, as if his own desire was about to be quenched in the final struggle, "Why?" he shouted recklessly, "Are you mad at me for disturbing you? Just go—as long as you give me your love letter. I'm going somewhere tonight, I must, I must!"

"Yuuri," Viktor said, looking at his wistful expression, never feeling so jealous of the person who was going to receive the love letter. "Do you like her that much, Yuuri? Do you want to chase her then?"

Yuuri Katsuki looked at him, at his handsome face, the short, disheveled silver hair, and those deep, beautiful blue eyes—he really wanted to get drunk in those eyes and never wake up.

"Yes." He whispered, and then lowered his eyelids as if he didn't dare to meet his eyes.

There was a long silence.Yuuri saw a cup of hot tea sitting on the end table next to his lap, and the ashtray on top of the end table was full of cigarette butts—when did he start smoking and still smoking so much—and he saw Anfisa sitting worriedly Sitting on the couch, watching them anxiously.

"Okay," Viktor said, as if determined, because there was something decisive in his voice, "Okay." Then he turned around, "Come with me, Yuuri."

They came to the study together.

Yuuri stood directly in front of the desk—because Victor told him to stand there, he turned on the lamp on the desk, sat behind the desk himself, tore off a blank sheet of paper from the notepad, took out a pen from the pen holder, Dip the pen in the inkwell so that the nib hangs over the paper.But instead of writing right away, he looks up at Yuuri.took a look.Another glance.Then he put his head down and began to write.

As if without thinking, sentences appeared on the paper one by one, as if he was not composing a love letter, but he seemed to be writing silently—just like when he was in school, he skillfully wrote the texts and historical notes required by the teacher It is the same as the poems of Pushkin that he often reads.Even in moments like these, Yuuri still couldn't stop admiring him - he stared at the hand that kept moving, the long bangs that hung down and the other pale, but strong arms.And he didn't know if he would have the chance to look at him so unscrupulously in the future.

"Okay." Victor threw the pen on the table, "Do you want me to fold it for you—a heart shape or something?"

Yuuri catches the sarcasm, but he still insists, "That's great—thanks."

Victor looked at him indifferently again, and began to fold the piece of paper vigorously, "Although I don't want to be nosy, I'm still curious—who is she? Where are you going to find her?"

"Hmm..." Yuuri hesitated, but obviously the other party took his dullness as shyness, the paper was squeezed so hard by his fingers that Yuuri felt like he was going to tear it, so he quickly Reaching out to grab the piece of paper—now it’s a half-folded heart shape, “Just the one called Mai—that’s it. Thanks, Victor, goodbye—” He stomped out the door, his pace Still stumbling around.

"Excuse me—Anfisa!" Victor heard his farewell in the living room, and then the sound of the door opening and closing again.He leaned back and leaned on the armrest of the chair, his hands hanging on the side of the handle, his face turned to the dim ceiling, and he closed his eyes.