Yuuri knew that what he was about to do was stupid. He knew how the alcohol would affect him. But he didn't care. Nothing really mattered anymore anyway. He would wake up tomorrow with the same shitty life, only he'd be more miserable than before and have a killer hangover. Katsuki Yuuri was a failure, and he would rather drink the night away until he was left in an intoxicated haze than confront his problems. And if he could get away for a while, then he would. Even if it came at a high cost.
Yuuri held the deep green bottle up to the pale moonlight filtering down and studied it, debating how to pry it open. It had been a lucky find in the first place, after all, who drops their champagne into the ocean? It was the sort of object that cropped up now and again, but it was rare. Sometimes whole crates of alcohol fell off of barges, but that wasn't commonplace. Yuuri had been saving this for a couple years, waiting for a time when he was desperate enough to use it to find escape for a while.
Unfortunately, Yuuri had not found a bottle opener. That would have been all too easy. Yuuri surveyed the seabed for the glint of something sharp, perhaps a nail or a sheet of metal. No such object was in sight. He sighed and lazily pumped his tail, propelling himself closer to the shore. There was no hurry; he had all night. The merman's heart felt empty of any emotion, as if it had all poured out of him and dispersed into the water. He drifted towards the rocky beach, taking care not to hit his tail against any of them. Soon, there was only three feet of water between the stones and the rippling surface.
With a flick of his body, Yuuri's head broke through into the open air. It stung his wet skin like ice, biting and digging in. His gasping gills flapped to no avail, and he opened his mouth to draw in the frigid air with his feeble human lungs. It was time. He saw only one way to open the bottle. With a crash, he broke the top on a barnacle encrusted rock that was peeking out of the waves. Before he could use better judgement, he brought the bottle to his lips. The keen edges nicked them and blood started to drip down his chin, but he didn't stop drinking. He deserved the pain. Maybe he would bleed out and nobody would have to deal with him anymore. Ruefully, he wondered if anyone would even care if he died.
The champagne burned slightly in Yuuri's throat, and the sour-sweet taste washed over his tongue. He drank and drank, until his hands would not obey him and he dropped the bottle. It shattered into a million pieces. Overcome with the emotion that he'd pushed deep down for so long, he sprawled himself over the rock and sobbed, hating himself. He laughed at how foolish he was through the tears. Slowly, he began to lose his self control and awareness. He relished the freedom that came with the exhilarating buzz, embracing it with open arms.