Oh, so now you listen to orders so cheerfully? Even if that smile of his is so insincere that it wouldn't fool an infant. If it wasn't for the fact of Junior Worlds coming up so quickly, Yakov would consider dragging this young idiot out somewhere for a quiet drink, somewhere private where he could try to get to the bottom of all of this odd melancholy. But there's not enough time between now and Sofia for something like that, and at this point he's not even sure that he'd get a straight answer if he tried. (If there is even a straight answer for it, which is by no means certain; stress and exhaustion may play tricks on the brain in ways that defy any type of logic.) Yet in the meantime --

'If you have time to stare,' he calls out, looking over his shoulder at Yuri, 'you have time to add more laps onto the ones you'll be doing shortly!'

'I'm stretching, Yakov!' Yuri shouts back, raising both arms high above his head in a sudden grand sweeping motion before leaning from side to side. 'Keep your ratty old hat on; it's not like I'm going anywhere, am I?'

Yakov looks back at Viktor, his gaze flat once more. 'We choose only what we do about it, Vitya,' he says again, this time in a voice that is not meant to carry. 'Even if it feels like our choices have already been made for us. Think about that tonight, while you rest.'