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Yuuri groans and drops his head into his hands. The website with the assignment details has just timed out on him a fifth time, and the screen is blurring in front of his face. All he can see in his vision are flashes of him failing the course, of never graduating, of having to move back home in shame and misery and be resigned to everyone’s pitying glances for the rest of his life. Look, there goes Yuuri Katsuki, who couldn’t even complete a single basic online assessment!
He has no idea how Phichit survives, considering his social media addiction and cheap-as-chips data plan. Despite the claims of free internet included in their rent, the wifi signal, as it turns out, does not reach their tiny apartment. Yuuri is perpetually kicking himself for not checking that before signing the lease, but hey, who could have known that the agent was blatantly lying? He’s not on campus on Mondays, and it’s too far to travel to be worth it for a single assignment — hence, his presence at this local café. Where, apparently, today of all days, the promised free wifi is also attempting to kick the bucket.
Yuuri rubs a hand over his face and whimpers quietly as he looks again at the clock on his laptop. 7:43pm. The clock is ticking on the assignment, and the looming deadline means that he has to take action instead of trying the same thing repeatedly with fruitless results.
He doesn’t dare approach the counter with a question while others are ordering, in case someone gets annoyed, so he takes the time to unplug his computer and gather his things into his arms, and waits several more minutes until the queue is gone. Luckily, there aren’t many people around on Monday nights here, and it’s not long before he can scramble up to get the attention of the bored barista.
“Uhm… I tried to connect to the internet, and it doesn’t seem to be working?” He indicates, roughly, at the network details scratched faintly on the chalkboard on the wall behind him. If he’s lucky, something on there is misspelled, and the staff will tell him the real, functioning network information, and he’ll be right as rain.
The barista blinks at him blankly, his eyes drifting uninterestedly to the laptop and power cord under his arm, and shrugs, shattering Yuuri’s hopes as soon as his mouth opens. “Yeah, when there’s a lot of people here, it struggles to cope. Just try refreshing.”
Yuuri bites his tongue and nods, internally screaming that he’s spent the last hour and a half refreshing, thank you very much, and hasn’t yet managed to get past the third page of the university’s convoluted online system. He wanders back towards his table and, before he sits down, spots a white laminated piece of paper out of the corner of his eyes and wonders.
Yuuri has no classes on Mondays, and no internet at home. Therefore, he is here at the café at least once every two weeks on Mondays. And, every time he has been here on Monday over the past few months, he has seen this laminated piece of paper propped up on the large table in the corner for everyone to see:
“WIFI: AnimalPlanet
P: FurAndFeathers”
Yuuri pulls out his phone, checks the list of available networks and frowns to himself. Sure enough, there’s an “AnimalPlanet” in the list. It’s got nothing to do with the name of the café, or the café’s official network. It must surely be a private one… but it’s here every week, and maybe it would be okay to use it since they’re displaying the password publically? Yuuri looks over the table and sees that there’s only one person sitting there, a somewhat stylishly-dressed man who is sipping coffee as he clicks around on a laptop of his own. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Yuuri screws up his courage and walks over.
“Um…”
The man looks up, bright blue eyes snapping their full attention to him. Yuuri gulps.
“Is.. is this your network? I was just wondering if I could use it? Briefly?”
“Oh!” The man smiles at him, and waves his hand across the table. “Feel free! There’s plenty of space here.”
Yuuri is about to refuse, when he sees out of the corner of his eye that the table he was sitting at before has been swiftly occupied by a chatting couple. Well, that certainly leaves him no choice. He stammers out a “thanks” and takes the closest chair, keeping his computer as close to his side of the table as he can.
“I’m Viktor, by the way.”
“Uh, my name is Yuuri. Thank you so much!” He adds a quick, clumsy bow, and hopes that this time everything will actually work out.
“Lovely to meet you, Yuuri.”
They both turn back to their respective screens, and Yuuri almost fails to conceal his squeal of triumph when his laptop connects to AnimalPlanet and the university assignment portal loads instantly. He has a chance to finish on time. Yuuri puts on his headphones, tunes out everything else in the café and gets to work.
Yuuri would have thought that everything would end there, but the next week, almost as soon as he enters the door of the café, he sees Viktor look up at him and give him a small wave.
“Hi, Yuuri!”
Yuuri flushes a little — Viktor remembers him? — and pauses in the doorway, throwing a quick glance around the café. The entire rest of the table at which Viktor sits is unoccupied, so there’s no real excuse to not sit there for the rest of the evening. This would be so much easier if Viktor wasn’t here, or if he’d been able to just say thanks and then run away to another corner of the café. He gulps and approaches, grabbing hold of the back of a chair diagonally across from Viktor.
“...hi.”
“Do you come here every Monday?”
“Yes.” Yuuri pulls his bag off his shoulder and drops it onto the chair, noticing that Viktor doesn’t seem to have a drink right now. Well, that works pretty well. “Um, I wanted to thank you for letting me use your network last week! It really saved me. Can I buy you a drink or something to pay you back?”
Viktor’s eyes widen a little. “Really, there’s no need.”
“I insist,” says Yuuri, stubbornly.
“Well, if you’re sure. Hmm.” Viktor looks sideways for a moment, tapping his mouth with a finger in thought. “A matcha latte, then.”
“Sure.” Yuuri nods and heads off to the counter to make his order, remembering to grab a coffee for himself as well. By the time he returns to the table with his order number, a new person has appeared next to his chosen seat — a blond boy wearing clothes that scream ‘I am very much an angry teenager’.
Viktor seems to know him — they’re talking and, mid-conversation, Viktor interrupts himself to say “By the way, Yuri, meet Yuuri.”
The kid visibly bristles, even as he mutters out a quick “hi” in response to Yuuri’s quick greeting. Yuuri feels uncomfortably judged somehow, the teen seeming to be looking him over and finding him wanting. “So what’s your specialty?” he snipes.
Luckily, Viktor jumps in before Yuuri has a chance to react. “Don’t be a brat, Yura, he’s not here for the meetup. Come sit near me if you want help with your photos.”
Yuuri releases the breath that he didn’t realise he was holding, and sits down in his chair. He keeps to himself after that, aside from matching Viktor’s small smile in his direction when his latte arrives. The rest of the evening is quiet, and spent in happy silence aside from the goodbyes he gets from Viktor and Yuri when he needs to leave.
The next Monday, Yuuri finds himself half-expecting Viktor to greet him again, and, sure enough, he gets a little smile and wave as he enters the café. Yuuri blushes a little when he realises the only available chair is the one right next to Viktor — the table is packed full, and the other occupants watch him inquisitively as he sits down. Viktor jumps into introductions again, just as quickly as last time.
“Yuuri, you haven’t met the others yet. This is Mila, and this is Georgi. They’re not here as often as Yura is.” Yuuri nods in acknowledgement and says hello to them with a shy wave.
The red-haired girl grins. “Hi Yuuri! You’re just in time, Viktor here has brought in the most gorgeous puppy today, look, look!”
Viktor turns his laptop screen in Yuuri’s direction with an obedient smile and, oh, there’s a pair of liquid black eyes and the sweetest button nose buried in a little puff of wavy caramel-coloured fur. Yuuri gasps, feeling his heart melt and dribble away across the floor. “Oh my gosh she’s precious.”
Viktor’s mouth widens into a genuine grin. “Isn’t she just?! There was no microchip, so the shelter decided to call her Grace. She’s just the sweetest little ball of fluff. You don’t happen to be in the market for a labradoodle, do you?”
Yuuri shakes his head sadly as he sits down, half-distracted by the successive adorable pictures of Grace that Viktor starts clicking through on his computer. “We barely got permission from the landlord for my roommate’s hamsters. But I hope she goes to a good home, she deserves it.” His brain cells start to pull themselves together with some difficulty as, accompanied by Mila’s cooing noises, the slideshow starts to move through several other happy, playful dogs, all with the same photoshoot background as Grace had. “So, do you work at the shelter?”
“Hmm? Oh, no, I just take photos for them. You always get a higher adoption rate if a professional takes the photo of a dog against a clean background. Don’t ask me why, I’d adopt them all straight from the kennel if I could.”
Yuuri nods in instant agreement. The photos suddenly switch to a huge poodle, rolling on her back on the grass in a park, a series of shots Yuuri instantly recognises even without Viktor’s comments in the background. “And this is my girl, Makkachin-”
“I love Makkachin!”
Yuuri immediately flushes and clamps his mouth shut, embarrassed by his outburst, but he can’t deny it’s true. She looks like a giant, chilled-out version of Vicchan, with the kind of plush fur you could sink your whole body into. Makka-fluff was the third account he followed when Phichit forced him to get Instagram, after Phichit’s account and Phichit’s hamsters.
Luckily, Viktor seems to take it in stride. “She’s my pride and joy. I’m thinking I need to take the time to dress her up more; she loves the simple outfits.”
“I want to see her in the fairy wings again!” says Mila. “She’s such a good, fluffy princess in that one.”
Viktor smiles at her, but then glances back at Yuuri expectantly, as if he’s hoping for another suggestion. Cheeks burning, Yuuri mumbles out, “I liked her sailor outfit.” It seems to satisfy Viktor, as he nods and goes back to flicking through photos.
When they get to the end of that week’s camera roll, Viktor stands up. “I’ll go get us some coffees. Mila, Georgi?”
Mila jumps in right away. “A mocha, please!”
The other man responds with some delay, “Oh, me? Just an Earl Grey, if you could.”
“Sure.” Viktor then turns, unexpectedly, to Yuuri. “And you?”
“What? Oh, no, I don’t need anything!”
“You sure? I’m going there anyway.”
Yuuri shakes his head. “I’m sure. I really don’t want anything.”
Viktor gives him an odd look, but then shrugs and heads to the counter.
While Viktor is gone, Mila starts peppering him with questions, and Yuuri finally finds out the purpose of these meetups — the friends are all photographers, or people dropping in hoping to get some hints on improving their photo editing skills. Viktor is a freelance pet photographer who donates his skills to local dog shelters once a week; Mila spends her weekends shooting at horseriding competitions, trying to convince cashed-up riders to purchase her best shots of themselves afterwards; and Viktor returns just before the explanation covers Georgi, in time to say:
“He’s moved on from birdwatching to, what is it now, documenting the passionate blooms of love? Is that your new excuse for buying so many bouquets for Anya?”
Georgi pouts and starts defending himself, but based on his relaxed expression and Viktor’s chuckles Yuuri guesses this must be some running in-joke. As he listens in on the conversation, hovering between not wanting to be in Viktor’s debt and not wanting Viktor to feel upset, he resolves to not buy himself any coffee for the rest of the night.
A few days later, Makkachin’s instagram has a photo of her in a sailor outfit with the caption “#ThrowbackThursday This one is a favourite!!!”. Somehow, Yuuri can’t stop grinning to himself.
Yuuri makes his way to Viktor’s table on autopilot. It’s just him and Yuri there today, it seems, but there’s still only one seat left — some noisy group of schoolgirls has pinched most of the nearby chairs for a giant gossip session in the corner. Yuuri settles in next to Viktor and, after a brief greeting, pulls his laptop open.
Three problem sets and two coffees later, his phone pings and Yuuri scrambles to pull it out. He grins, excited, as he realises that Mari has sent him a photo of Vicchan. He seems to be romping in a patch of long grass, soaking up the morning sunshine, and it warms Yuuri’s heart to see him enjoy himself.
“Oh! Is that a poodle?!” Yuuri jerks up to see Viktor leaning towards his screen ever so slightly, an eager expression filling his face.
“Yeah! He’s my boy back in Japan. My sister just sent it to me.” He smiles and offers his phone to Viktor for a closer look.
Viktor pulls it from his hands reverently, Yuuri’s fingers brushing his as it’s handed over, and beams excitedly at the little poodle. “He’s so happy, I love him.”
Yuuri is about to respond when he hears an odd sound across the table and glances up at Yuri.
The kid looks like he’s choking on his own breath, and after a few moments manages to splutter out, pointing at their faces, “That’s- soulmate. Soulmate hair.”
Yuuri turns to looks at Viktor, and his bafflement quickly changes to shock and then horror as he spots what Yuri saw: a single small lock of Viktor’s hair above his right ear is now jet-black, as if someone’s run a calligraphy brush down its length in an unerringly smooth stroke.
He freezes as Viktor reaches up to brush at Yuuri’s hair — does this mean some of his own hair has turned silvery blond, he thinks hysterically — and flushes tomato-red when Viktor throws a heart-shaped smile at him and says,
“All the more reason for me to buy you a coffee this time.”