Haru: Be forewarned of the unbearable awkwardness.


(Thursday, 10 September 2015 – 7:45am, Detroit, Michigan)

Victor awoke earlier than expected at 7:45am without his alarm. Yawning, rolling over before slowly sitting up while still mostly asleep. He stumbled through showering, dressing, grabbed his clothes and bag, then instinctually headed into the kitchen to get breakfast. After eating, he felt half awake and slipped his lunch into his bag before he could forget. He'd had 11 hours sleep and that counted as a good start but he wasn't going to chance it, he walked out the door still yawning. Walking woke him up further, enough to start to enjoy the morning before it got too loud or crowded.

He tracked towards to the only source of decent coffee he had so far managed to discover and after procuring a latte, made his way his favourite spot. It was eerie with nobody around and he sat quietly while sipping, surprised at how calm his mind was considering what he was about to do. His thoughts were content for the first time in a long time. He had no doubt that would change soon but he intended to enjoy it while it lasted to its fullest extent, along with the coffee, early morning and lack of people; this counted as a small brief slice of bliss for him.

After all, he was not a morning person. He wasn't sure he was ready to do this but right now that other part was back and it wasn't letting go. It was demanding he do this. It was important to it and to his skating. He assessed the situation knowing fighting was fruitless and conceded on the basis of skating, curiousity and the other even weirder, more complex feelings swirling below the surface that he couldn't yet put a name to or properly fathom. He had to be careful though, yesterday the innocent boy had completely disarmed him with merely a look.

He managed relatively well until it was approaching lunchtime, his poetry class had sped by in a breeze. Spotting his target in the library, he hovered nearby, assessing the books in front of him while eavesdropping. He didn't intend to but he happened upon the end of a call. Cautiously ignoring that, he quietly positioned himself naturally at the other end of the same sofa the art history student who sat next to him yesterday was on. He pulled his book back out. Not The Outsiders this time, that would be too embarrassing, besides he was almost finished. Instead, Andrei Belys' Petersburg was in his hand and he was intensely focused on it while using his peripheral vision to ensure he wasn't making the shy student too uncomfortable. He took notes as necessary while occasionally glancing at the boy. The boy was glancing at him just as much, if not more. He decided this was as good a signal as he was going to get. Hell with it.

"You're in my art history class, right?" he asked in his usual positive, open, friendly way. All he got in reply was a tentative nod. "You were drawing those octopi yesterday, right?", he was trying to communicate that he had paid attention and that he admired his ability. Another nod, his face was blank but his eyes were careful. This was going to be harder than he had anticipated. "What's your name?", he asked kindly.

"Katsuki, Yuri.", Victor absorbed that privately for a long moment before the student finally asked him a question for the first time. "And yours?". This stunned him into silence. The combination of a question and of all questions, that question? Had he not given him a note telling him his name? Had he not read it? Why not? It didn't make any sense to him. How was he going to communicate with him when this Yuri clearly didn't even communicate in the same way as him? Should he not give him any more notes? That wasn't an option. He didn't know how to communicate the more important parts of himself without them.

Just like that, once again this unassuming quiet boy had thrown him off completely. He stared in confusion as he started to try to speak, attempting to wrap his mind around what was happening as he said it, "Victor Nikiforov?". It came out unsure, almost as if he didn't know who he was, almost as a question. He mentally kicked himself. The demure boy named Yuri suddenly yanked a page from his notepad as if it was an involuntarily response. Again? "Are you ok?", he was really starting to get concerned about this guy. He would have to tread carefully, clearly he was not just shy, but very sensitive. This was fast becoming a minefield.

Yuri was now staring at him wide eyed with enough tension filling the air you would have been able to notice a pin drop. "You're the Victor Nikiforov?". Shit. He had been hoping to avoid this at all costs. He didn't want people to know who he was. He didn't want the expectations that came with that, for once he wanted to be able to be himself. But now it was unavoidable, Yuri had asked and Victor couldn't lie to him. He was still staring at him, waiting for an answer. He decided to nod, it was the only safe way to ensure his voice didn't come out sounding like the strangled cat he's sure it would.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have to be blowing everyone away somewhere?" There it was. It had begun. He took a depth breath. He could be patient. Especially for him. He laughed softly to himself, if only Yuri knew the truth, but he stopped writing and reading and looked up. Yuri was shaking. Victor raked his mind, deeply concerned, trying to find a way to put him at ease. He hoped projecting calm might help. "Not until next month.", he replied serenely. His ponytail was hurting and this situation was stressing him out, he pulled out his hair tie and ran his fingers through his hair to detangle it, as he said softly with a slight smile, "So until I start skating again, it seems we're going to be classmates, Yuri.". He liked the sound of his name as he said it, he could almost taste it. This Yuri was nothing like their other teammate Yuri back home. He went back to writing but then looked up. Yuri was still looking at him, it seemed as if his eyes were trying to communicate something important, something his mouth couldn't possibly get past. As much as Victor hated this line of questioning, he felt terrible for him too, it was clear Yuri was as conflicted about this he was.

"Why are you even in Detroit?" Yuri almost demanded. He sighed internally, one step forward, two steps back. Maybe honesty was the best policy. Maybe being himself instead of trying to be what everyone else needed was right, even if it was just this once. He could be selfish for a second, couldn't he? If it helped Yuri understand?

This time he responded even more quietly, softly and with meaning, as if he was asking Yuri's personal permission as he looked up into his eyes and held his gaze, "Can't I be somewhere that isn't Russia?" Aren't I allowed to be here? That was what he was really asking. Didn't he understand what being in Russia meant? Everything that came with it? Yuri stared back and greeted this with total silence instead averting his gaze and began rearranging his papers, attempting to stuff them back into his folder. It would have made him smile if he wasn't aware of how tense Yuri was right now, and he couldn't gain any enjoyment from that. He was writing a note to Yuri, this one was To Morpheus by Alexander Pushkin.

He observed him again, mentally noting everything he had seen so far. "You're really shy, aren't you?", Yuri gave him another look, full of meaning that once again he had no way to decipher. So Yuri did communicate. But not in any way he knew. Clearly he had his own way. That was ok. Victor was willing to learn. And very, very patient. It wouldn't hurt Yuri to attempt to learn a little bit of a new language too since Victor was fully willing to learn Yuri's.

He finished writing his note, folded it and handed it to Yuri. Ignoring his wordless expression of surprise, he pushed the note into Yuri's palm and held it there for a few seconds too long, since he appeared to freeze, until Yuri opened his mouth with "I-"

He cut him off, "Just take it". Yuri finally managed to respond and wrapped his fingers around the note of his own accord. Victor felt the small jolt of current run through him at the point of contact. He knew Yuri felt it too. Yuri opened the note, and looked at it but his face was still blank but slightly warm. Couldn't he read it?

: O Morpheus, god of dreams, till day

grant me relief from love's distress.

Come, blow my lamp out now, I pray,

and my nocturnal visions bless!

Block from my cheerless recollection

the dreadful pain of those goodbyes;

grant me to see her(his) loving eyes,

and hear her(his) murmurs of affection.

Then, once the dark has taken flight,

your power over vision ended,

oh how I wish my poor wits might

forget love till fresh night's descended!

He continued, "Those octopi you were drawing yesterday looked very nice.". A feeling was starting to form within him that he was somehow missing out by not being able to draw. Watching Yuri yesterday, he could see how in some ways it was a much more elegant and elemental form of communication. Communication was something that was important to him.

A faintly muttered,"Thank you" was the response. He appeared to start to calm down a little, at the very least he started drawing again on what he was working on before. He was interested now. He didn't understand the first thing about art but his feelings towards it were changing and now for the first time he wanted to understand it as well as be able to appreciate it and not simply in some abstract, idealistic way. If it was one thing the shy cutie in front of him knew well, it was obviously art.

He let his natural enthusiasm shine through and went for it."Do you like art?" An unobtrusive nod was the only feedback he received. He took it and ran with it to make his main point, "We should work together on our art history assignments!". It made sense after all, he would learn faster if Yuri was willing to go as his companion. The bonus of the possibly of getting to know the intriguing yet silent figure before him was certainly a factor though. Considering he gave no response this time and instead continued drawing, Victor assumed he was less than thrilled with the idea. Maybe if he showed he was serious, Yuri would reconsider."What are you drawing now?" He had tried to make out what it was but couldn't see, so rather than risk disturbing him, he walked around soundlessly to get a better position to view it from as he asked the question. He still couldn't make it out. Yuri tensed up all over again. Damn it. He just thought he had managed to keep him off the edge of being flighty that but evidently it was going to take a lot more than that.

"Please do not do that. I don't like people staring at me as I work."was stated firmly without raising his voice as the hands he had been watching moved to cover the drawing. Momentarily stunned, Victor took count. That was the most Yuri had ever said to him even if it was a massive slam down. He would take it. It was apparent that respecting his boundaries was very important to Yuri and he had just stated what they were very plainly.

He took a breath and did his best not to show any of his current conflicting emotions as he met that last statement with a levelled sounding, "Alright then.". It wouldn't do to let on to Yuri how much this affected him, it would only make him more anxious. Instead, he padded seamlessly to the couch, closer than he had been before and proceeded to sit, resting watchfully. He wasn't going to push any further right now after that. It was Yuris' move.

"Do you know if we have to start going to museums this week?", Yuri asked. That took him off guard. Was he just being polite? Or did he actually want to talk to him? He still couldn't tell. He didn't want this to be one sided but he didn't know how shy Yuri really was or how he expressed what he wanted. He shrugged. Better to keep his attention while he has it, right?

"I don't know, honestly. I wasn't paying attention.". Yuri made a sound of clear disapproval at this. So he did have opinions after all. Victor smiled internally at this discovery. Better for him to let Yuri know upfront that he didn't play well with hypocrites, so he reminded him, "You weren't paying attention either, Yuri.". He watched as Yuri smirked. It was the first time he had seen him display an emotion that was intended to be openly seen by others. He looked kind of sexy with that expression on his face. "Do you have any classes for the rest of the day?" Yuri simply shook his head at the question while Victor wondered what other classes he was taking.

"And yourself?" Yuri asked as he continued drawing. Yuri wasn't looking at him and that made this harder but he was choosing to interact of his own accord, which he supposed counted for quite a lot considering how withdrawn he had observed him to be this far.

"Yes." Not that it mattered.

"Shouldn't you get going then?" was the next question Yuri threw his way. He mulled over this.

"No." He watched Yuri pause briefly at that before continuing. Like hell he was going anywhere. The other part of him wouldn't let him even if he tried. He needed more information, the kind that wasn't easily obtained.

"Are you just going to sit there?" Progress. He was asking of his own accord. But was he asking because he was uncomfortable? Did he not want him here? He supposed he would find out soon enough, if Yuri really didn't want him there, he would probably just leave. Victor winced internally thinking about it.

"Yes."An expression of bafflement passed across Yuri's face in a flicker that was so fast he almost missed it. He would have to keep an eye out for those in future. It wasn't pleasant to be the one of the receiving end of one word answers, was it? He was doing it because anything more would reveal too much whereas Yuri seemed to do it by choice.

He returned to reading. Yuri was still drawing. He felt a bit like a dog on watch, waiting for the human in question in silence. Was this how Maccachan felt? No, he mused. He knew for a fact he interacted much more freely with Maccachan, that was undoubtedly a part of why he missed them so much. This was different.

Tension filled the air, ebbing and flowing but radiating between the two of them, almost as if it was a continuation from the brief point of contact before transmuted into another form. The more he thought about that, the more he wondered what Yuri thought of it. A significant amount of time was passing. He stayed, which surprised Victor. He hadn't expected him to really. He settled in to watch and gather as much information about the laconic artist beside him as he could.

He noticed him tensing slightly and relaxing slightly from time to time however he couldn't tell what it was in response to. He continued observing and ruminating while the other part of him was busy trying to ascertain whether some truly ridiculous things where possible. It had some very defined ideas already, and some of them scared him. 'Stop it', he put his foot down on the utter load of garbage happening internally inside him. Bite me, was all he got back.

It proceeded to torment him for the rest of the time there. He couldn't believe some of the things he was considering. Surely this wasn't normal? It must just be him. He took deep breaths and attempted to recover some amount of sanity. No matter what he did, it didn't help. He spent the rest of the time trying to stop the onslaught of ideas in his head from overtaking his better judgement until they both left.