Ice Tiger of Russia

@kotyonokonice

One might think that after the Christmas party Eleanor would never drink again.

Nah.

She has a pretty good night, all things considered. She’s at a bar she hasn’t been to before, she doesn’t run into anyone she knows, and she ends up making out with a super hot girl before she has to run to the bathroom to be sick. The girl is gone when she reemerges, but you take what you can get.

This morning, however, is fucking brutal. She could just lay in her sweats and watch reruns, but maybe she should like, keep looking for a job since her money’s gonna run out sooner or later. 

After a quick shower, she heads out in search of coffee. Sugar and caffeine is a decent fix for a hangover, right? Right. She finds a place that’s a little too adorable, but she’ll deal. 

“Uhhh, gimme a venti mocha with an extra shot of espresso and extra whip. Oh, and extra chocolate dri– Dude! You’re that kid from the party!”

Yuri is pretty chill. She’s old and can’t tell the age of anyone under like, 19, but she knows enough to know he’s not bad for a youth. Plus, he can really put away the vodka. 

“Hey, man, I hope you weren’t too wrecked the next day. I only left the house to get Advil, and then I didn’t move for like, 48 hours.”

A smile creeps across his face when Eleanor walking in, but it quickly sinks into a scowl as she lists off her order. Of course she was one of those people. Still, it’s better than most of his shitty customers (if he has to listen to ONE more person ask him the difference between a latte and an americano...) and at least she’s cool. Or, at least she’s the kind of adult that can hold her liquor, which has only endeared her to Yuri. 

“And you’re that wasted lady,” he throws back, writing her order on the cup. 

“I’ve been worse, hell, I had work the next day and even went for a jog beforehand” he brags, smirking wide. 

“So, you want extra drizzle on this too?,” He waves the cup in the air, and looks her over, “You sure?” 

He pouts a little at Yuri’s comment, but he perks back up when Yuri suggests hot chocolate. “Oh, sure! If you don’t mind, that would be great!”

At least Yuri is chatting with him a bit. He really really doesn’t want to make any more enemies than he has to in this place.

“I started a new job at the police station,” he says cheerfully. “It’s, uh, just an office assistant job, which means lots of running around fetching coffee and stuff, but I still hope I’ll learn a little bit about what it’s like to be on the force.” 

“Sure,” He snorts at Josuke’s enthusiasm, “It’s kinda my job.”

Yuri smirks over the counter as he pulls down the steam wand, the hissing sound of steaming milk too loud for proper conversation. Still, he can hear Josuke just fine. He dumps the milk in the cup of espresso unceremoniously, snaps a lid on it and readies the next drink. 

“Police station, huh....” He hadn’t really bothered to think about the criminal justice system in this place, too busy ice skating and the like, “Well now I know who to call if I get in any trouble,” the smirk widens, “Don’t worry I don’t plan on doing anything, you just never know when you might get assaulted or witness damage to public property.” The smirk is practically vicious now as he pulls the steam wand down again. 

Yuri wakes up the next day with the worst headache he’s ever had, and he knows he has no one to blame but himself, he had been the one to down four bottles of vodka the night before. Still he lugs himself out of bed, if only because Pyotya is crying for breakfast. 

“Alright, alright” he mumbles as he shuffles through the kitchen and fills up the fluffy cat’s food bowl. Pyotya purrs lovingly in response and Yuri can’t help but squat down and nuzzle his face into that soft fur. It doesn’t help his hangover, but it does make him feel a little bit better. 

Downing some water, he gets dressed in his usual workout gear. It’s gonna hurt like hell, but he’s not gonna skip out on his morning routine. Not when he knows that Yuuri and Viktor are probably practicing. 

He takes it a little easier than usual, knowing that if he pushes himself to hard he’ll probably end up puking, and that would make for a very poor start to the day. 

He doesn’t make it onto the ice before his shift at work. He clocks in with a scowl, and ties the apron around his waist. He doesn’t usually drink coffee but today he partakes, knowing he won’t make it though the day otherwise. 

“Haha, I still don’t know why you call me that…”

It’s not the best or the worst nickname you’ve ever gained, but it is one of the weirder ones.

Still, you smile when he asks if you’d like the usual.

“Yes, please.” He’s already setting up the pour-over before you even answer. You laugh a little more. “I’m glad I’m so predictable. Today is already promising to be a long one, so at least I can start it well.”

You’ve tried a lot of coffee locations during your tenure in this city, but this one has won your patronage the most. It’s got delicious coffee and is on the way to the police station.

“I hope your day has been somewhat eventful so far.”

“Cause it’s your name,” he replies distractedly. 

Yuri sighs, slowly pouring hot water over the grounds to let them bloom, “You’ve got a long day of being a douche on TV then? Must suck to be you.” 

Despite the harsh words he’s smirking. 

“It’s been damn boring, you’re the first event this morning, which doesn’t really tell me the day’s gonna get any better.” 

Finally the coffee finishes and he slides the mug over to Akechi, leaning against the bar as he does. 

“Want anything else?” he asks, pushing his bangs out of his face, though they only fall right back where they were, “oh right, I tried out that Russian place and it sucks ass, have you ever had real Russian food?” 

He visibly deflates at the boy’s words. “I don’t usually use it unless there’s someone trying to kill me or my friends,” he says quietly. “Sometimes I do lose my temper, but I try not to get real mad most of the time… It does make cleaning my room easier, though.”

He hadn’t thought of it like that. Most of the time when he’s using his Stand, he’s either not thinking (or just thinking about breaking somebody’s face), or the only thing he wants is to heal whoever is hurt. Well, he’s also okay with hurting people who hurt other people. Usually, he doesn’t lose his temper enough to try to break anyone unless it’s the hair thing, which he knows he’s gotta keep under control. Maybe part of it was that he just took it for granted that he could fix everything right up afterwards. 

The boy starts walking, and before long, he noticeably slows. Josuke matches his pace without comment. The boy looks like he’s struggling, but Josuke doesn’t want to injure his pride anymore than he already has. After a bit, they stop.

“Is this it?”

Yuri is a little intrigued, and maybe impressed, that this guy is somebody people have tried to kill before. “I guess I can get cleaning your room,” he shrugs, grimacing, “If you gotta protect people that’s fine, just maybe fucking watch your temper here next time, if it was someone weaker than me you might have actually fucking killed them,” He smirks, even something like this wasn’t enough to overcome him. He had too many things left to do after all. 

He nods as they make it to the restaurant, trying not to think about the last time he was here, smiling with friends of his own. Not that he’d ever say that to their faces. 

They’re seated at a booth in the back. His whole body aching, Yuri practically falls into the seat, wincing with the effort. Situating himself he doesn’t even bother looking at the menu. It’s a little awkward, he thinks, really not used to making small talk with strangers. 

“So uh, besides punching out bad-guys and innocent bystanders alike, do you have any...hobbies?”

–「 You expect him to just tell you where the bathroom is so you can go have your crisis in private, but you also don’t know Yuri Plisetsky yet. The insult is like a slap in the face, and you’re already five steps past the alright point. Your fins flare, and a hiss builds up from your throat. The world is a little too bright, and that’s how you can tell that your pupils did the stupid dialating thing. 

You take a deep breath, squint your eyes shut, and try to not let your shit fly off the handle. It’s already halfway there. When you open your eyes again, they’re stupid and watery. Ugh. 」

“i dont knoww wwhat your fuckin problem is  or wwhy youre actin like such a fuckin nookwwhiff  but if i showwed you wwhat i wwas capable of youd FUCKIN DIE  so instead ill keep it brief  wwere the coolest because were the only ones wwho cant fuckin drowwn  and wwe dont take shit from anybody” 

“especially not cafe punks wwith smart mouths  wwho cant tell wwhen somebody is havvin a fuckin moment”

–「 You turn to go have a good old fashioned bathroom cry, and then stop halfway, jabbing a finger in his direction. 」

“OR wwhat good hair looks like

you FUCKIN BOB CUT”

Despite trying to hold in his growing irritation Yuri can’t keep his face straight and it sinks into that condescending grimace he’s known for. 

“I’m sorry, what the fuck did you call me?” Yuri yells after him. 

There are several answers to this question: Nookwwhiff, which is a word he doesn’t even fucking know, a cafe punk, which he can’t even be mad about, and then theres...who the fuck is he?! Viktor, balding, Nikivorof?! He shouldn’t be this sensitive about his damn hair. It’s just hair, he tries to tell himself, but he’s already mad and the day has been boring as hell so he might as well entertain himself. 

“I hope you drown in the fucking toilet like the dead fish you are!”

After his normal morning work out, ballet exercises, and a shower, Yuri has once again ended up at the little cafe where he works. And yet again it’s fucking slow. He doesn’t mind that there aren’t that many people, he prefers it to being mobbed by fans or some shit, but really? There had been maybe one customer in the last 2 hours. Why was he even here?!

The little bell above the door surprises him when it rings. He’s busying himself with stretches behind the bar (nothing too extreme, it’s a small space after all) because sitting still doesn’t suit him and the whole thing is already as clean as it can be. He hides the excited smile behind a grimace, when he finally turns to look at the customer. 

“Oh, it’s just you, Pumpkin Spice. You just want the usual today?” 

–「 You don’t get enough time to feel full of yourself. The moment you hear the words ‘magic dice’ it’s over, and all of your assorted bladders chill over. The detailing of horn shape all but confirms it. Vriska. Your eyes widen, and your response is delayed by at least a few very long seconds. By the time he answers your questions about the job you’re already gone. 」

「 Your gills open, as if they’re going to pull in extra air while you try to think how you feel about Vriska possibly being here. Vriska. What if she saw you like this? Barely able to keep your shit together, breaking down at the drop of a pin, crying in bathrooms like a wriggler. Or worse, she wouldn’t care. She has no fucking room to judge you on being an atrocity, but she also has all of the fucking room to judge you for everything else. You don’t know if you can do this. You don’t know if you can look at her. What if you see her, and every pitch feeling you’ve ever had comes rushing back like a tidal wave? What if she doesn’t care about you at all? What if she just wants you to rot? You can’t do this. 」

「 Having forgotten that you are in a physical place with a person in front of you, your voice cracks when you speak. Your squawk-blaster is so dry. 」

“do do you havve a bathroom here  i just need to fix my hair or somethin”  

He waits for this guy to do something cool: show of his superior fish powers, but is only met with a disappointingly dead gaze. Had he said something wrong? Maybe this guy actually had some serious issues. Maybe he shouldn’t have told him to apply...But it would be pretty damn nice to have a fellow employee. Especially on slow days, it could be so fucking boring. Taking a deep breath Yuri lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“So are you actually really fucking lame? I thought you said your kind was superior, but you just look like a dead fucking fish.” 

He stands back up, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Yeah, we’ve got a bathroom, first door on the left when you go back, you can try to fix whatever you want but your hair is a waste of time, can’t be salvaged really.”

–「 You wrinkle your nose at being called a ‘hybrid’. As far as you’re concerned you’re above average as far as trolls go, and if anyone is a hybrid of anything it’s the dirtscrapers who are something else. Not you. You cross your arms as if to show you’re offended, but then he mentions running into another one of your kind. 

It would be easy to fall into a pit of worry, but as far as you know, no one you know does magic. Magic doesn’t exist of course, but what would this guy perceive as magic? It’s easy to worry. 」

“first of all im a seadwweller and wwere easily the coolest trolls that exist any so called magic you seen is a kiddies hat trick compared to wwhat i can do  but uh did you get their name  wwhat did she look like  just so i knoww if i should go die in a hole somewwhere or stay in my hivve for the next ten years either one wworks honestly”

–「 You take a sip of your drink, already feeling antsy. It’s easy to worry.」

“also howw do i apply do i just like come in and be like hey humans fuckin hire me  or do i havve to do shit  provve im wworthy a makin bevverages before they accept me  i dont knoww howw any of this wworks” 

He shouldn’t be impressed, and he’s trying not to let it show on his face, but if this guy is even cooler than that magic-horn-lady then he wants to see why. Fortunately there’s no one else in the cafe so he settles in across the bar, leaning against the counter a little too eagerly. 

“So what shit can you do? The other troll I met has some rad magic dice, you can’t tell me they aren’t fuckin’ magic, even if it’s some play shit, she did a...she said it was a power up, and had a sword. I ran into her a while back but haven’t seen her recently....”

He really should have asked for her name, “Uh, she had black hair and horns? Oh, one of them was like uh, a hook and the other was like a fork?” He doesn’t know if it’ll help but they all seem to have different horns for some reason. 

He half blows off the questions about the job, much more interested in whatever the hell makes the sea dwellers cooler than the other trolls.

“Uh yeah, just bullshit a resume and show up. Turn over is pretty high cause you never know when the fuck us riftlings will just up and disappear so they’re not too picky.” 

You glance around the cafe as the other gets your coffee, taking in the atmosphere of the place. It’s cozy. You’ll have to look into coming here again–that is, if the taste lives up to its aroma.

“Alright, thank you.” You say when the cup is set in front of you. You take out your wallet and pass over the payment (including tip–as you’ve learned is customary here).

“Ah.” You didn’t expect him to engage with you much after that, but his suggestion brings the smile back to your face. “Yes, next time I come in, I’ll have to try your pour over. Especially if the coffee tastes as good as it smells.”

When you finally take a sip, you’re not disappointed. You exhale a small content sigh.

Yuri’s next words surprise you three times in succession. Firstly, he knows about your blog. Secondly, you’re not used to being addressed by your given name. And thirdly, he’s asking for your opinion.

“Aha, I do. I’m surprised you know about it, though…” You rub your neck. “There was one place I went to that I tried the piroshki’s at. I quite enjoyed them myself, although I admit I’m not anywhere close to being an expert on western cuisine. It was a little Russian diner a few blocks away from the southern side of the river. I could send you the name, if you’re interested.” You take another sip of your coffee as you consider. “Other than that, there have been a few places where I’ve seen them on the menu, but haven’t gotten a chance to try them yet.”

He regrets engaging with this Akechi guy the moment he opens his mouth. God he sounds like such an ass. Regardless, he can’t help but pay attention when the subject changes to his favorite food. He hadn’t has piroshki’s in some time, and while he could make them on his own...the thought brings a deep frown to his face. He didn’t really want to end up alone at home crying over a plate of piroshki. That didn’t sound nice at all. 

He’s surprised to hear that theres a Russian diner. Though, then again, he hasn’t really gone out of his way to go exploring the food scene here as he does doesn’t have the money or the time. He can’t help that his expression brightens at the news. 

“That’s good to know, Though I’m sure my cooking is still better,” He smirks, “you can send me the address that way I can check it out for myself, don’t you follow me on instagram or some shit, you can message me just don’t be creepy about it okay.”  This means that he’s going to have to follow this asshole back, but if he can get good food recs out of it, it might be worth it. 

“Hm?” She snaps out of her euphoria in the browsing of hand-carved scented soaps, which she of course wants to buy every single one of. Just, hoard everything and hibernate for the winter in a long bath, and smelling like cocoa butter and kiwis. 

“Oh, uh. Now that you mention it. Are the brand names here any different than from back home? Everything looks pretty normal, but since there are people from all over, they probably just don’t cater to one world…? Reality?” She mentally waves away that multiverse mumbo jumbo that she’s not really prepped to think about. Her goal is self PAMPERING, damn it! 

“Are there any brands you recommend?” 

He doesn’t want to admit that he knows shit about the brands here, that would make him look stupid and unreliable and he can’t have that. So instead he glances around at whats on the shelves and looks for anything he thinks Viktor might have been drawn to. The nagging old Russian might be a pain in the ass but he cared an awful lot about his looks, and having accompanied him on so many shopping trips is turning out to be more useful than Yuri could have ever imagined.  Sure enough, on closer inspection, he’s able to pick out a couple bottles with modernly ornate labels, bold fonts, and decent prices that don’t look half bad. Most of them are under the brand name Castile. 

“These are all pretty good,” he says, though he’s never used any of them. “They seem like they’ve got a full range of bath products too, since that’s what you seem to be looking for,” he grins, “the hand cut soaps look really good too.” 

And oh gosh, the suave cursive logo, large display of bath bombs in the front window, the slightly overly-sweet perfume wafting out from the doors. It’s like the pearly gates have opened up, and a chorus of a thousand angels are serenading her to the most pampering and relaxing bath that money could buy. 

“I. Am. Going to completely buy out their supply of moisturizer.” It’s the little things in life. It really is. 

While bath products aren’t necessarily his vice, he’s pleased that Ann seems excited with the selection. It seems his...interrogation skills have paid off again. Maybe he’ll give that rental guy an autograph or something one of these days, just to show his appreciation.  

“Hey, let me get at least a bottle, this shit weather is the worst for my skin, especially since the ice-rink is outside,” he’s smiling when he says this, holding in a small snicker. 

“Oh, can’t forget some decent chapstick too, now that I’m thinking about it.” 

He makes small mental list of the things he actually needs. Personal hygiene might not always be his number one priority but he has an image to keep. 

The boy’s suggestion makes you laugh some.

“Ahaha, is that how I appear to you…?” You ask, rubbing your neck a little. “Truthfully, I don’t really like pumpkin spice. I think I’ll just go with a cup of your house-blend.”

You watch him start going to work as you answer his second question.

“Of course. I’m Goro Akechi.”

“Suit yourself” he says, shrugging. Just like every other customer that had ever asked for a recommendation. Don’t ask if you don’t actually want one, trying to act all friendly and shit. Ha. He doesn’t say these thoughts aloud, just reaches for a cup and fills it with a cup of the medium roast. 

Goro Akechi, he thinks, eyeing the boy on the other side of the counter. Yeah, he’s definitely seen this loser on TV or some shit before. Wasn’t he like a detective or something shitty? 

“That’ll be 2.50,” Yuri remarks lazily, sliding the coffee over, “hey, if you like just regular old coffee you might want to try our pour overs sometime, or something,” he’s not sure why he’s bothering. He doesn’t really want to have to see this guy again, but he is trying to do well at his job. Besides the day has been slow, mind-numbingly so. Might as well kill some time. 

kotyonokonice‌:

“Good morning!”

You say cheerily upon walking in. There are surprisingly a good number of coffee shops in the area, especially small local ones, so you’ve been on a hunt to find the best ones. So far, you still haven’t found anything that matches up to Leblanc. You’re not sure you ever will, but you can keep looking.

The barista to this place is already rather standoffish. Your friendly expression doesn’t falter, however.

“Hm… What would you recommend?”

You approach the counter and sit down on one of the chairs, setting your suitcase on the ground. You think you recognize this disgruntled teen, but it takes a few moments for it to click.

“Oh. You’re Yuri Plisetsky, correct?” You ask. “What a coincidence. A few of my fans messaged me saying that we should meet.” You still aren’t quite sure why they want this, but you had followed his instagram after the second suggestion of it.

Yuri knows that look. That broken, false smile. He’s not going to say anything, it’s not his place, and he can’t afford to loose his job over a tiff with a loser customer, but he has to grit his teeth when the guy says his full name. 

Now that he mentions it, he did look kind of familiar, didn’t he have a food blog or something. Maybe he’d seen him on TV, he looked like a guy that would go on stupid talk shows or some shit. Though it wasn’t like Yuri would have  bothered to remember his name. Weird that this guy had fans, let alone that they thought they should meet, they were obviously in different leagues. God how did these kinds of fake ass douchebags get popular. Between Viktor, JJ, and now this ass...Yuri was seriously doubting the eyes of the general public. 

He holds all this in though, sighs, and puts on a grimace of a smile. 

“You look like the kind of guy that would enjoy a pumpkin spice latte” He says, carefully leaving out any crude names, “I’m sorry I don’t think I know you, could I get your name, you know, for your order.” 

“Are you serious? Of course, I’d love to! I’m definitely gonna be way more motivated to do it if I have someone with me!”

She beams energetically, even though she guesses it’s kind of weird to get so enthusiastic about exercising, and jogging, no less. But keeping a good figure was one of things she’s been striving for ever since she decided to pursue modeling more seriously. Why should she give up on her dream just because she was stuck here? The thought comes like a fresh beam of sunlight after weeks and of moping and imagining nothing but the worst case scenarios. And if Yuri was just as determined as she was to keep up with his career, that vibe would be enough to help push through, even during the tough times. 

… Okay, that might have been a little melodramatic, especially since it was concerning a guy she JUST became friends with, but cut her some slack! It’s been a shitty week! 

“Okay. So, game plan. We’ll work our asses off, so by the time we get back, we’ll wow everyone! Sound good?”

It’s refreshing that she’s so sincere and enthusiastic, and he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. 

“Sounds like a fucking game plan! Just wait till they see us!” It’s nice to have that hope. He’d been here once and had managed to get back home somehow, so it was only a matter of time...right. It’s going to be nice to have someone with such a positive attitude around, it will help keep him motivated too. 

“First things first though,” he grins and points down the street, “some decent shampoo and shit.”