Yuri is well aware, of course, that there are many more worse places to be than on a random beach in Japan with a hapless lump of Katsudon and the hyperactive space alien currently inhabiting Viktor Nikforov's body. Whatever fresh hell awaits them now, at least they're sitting down, and not stuck in the middle of a jillion other people at the moment. It's not all that cold yet, but he still has his hood pulled up over his head all the same.
If he'd paid more attention in geography lessons, he might know more about whatever's out there across the water -- some Korea or other, probably, if there's nothing else in the way. Right now, there's not much more to see than the outline of some boats near the horizon. He could turn his head to the right, and Hasetsu Castle would be somewhere in that direction (because it's not like you can miss seeing a huge fuck-off castle right on the edge of the shore). He could turn his head to the left, and there's the basket of food and the fire, and Viktor and Katsudon and Viktor's dog.
And that's it. That's everything to see.
(What the hell are they doing here?)
'So are we supposed to be cooking over that thing or what?' Yuri says, jerking his chin towards the little fire. He tucks up his legs almost to his chin, trying to shift to find a more comfortable position for his ass on the flat, slightly pebbly sand. It's still a bit warm from the sun, thankfully. 'I'm pretty sure you didn't haul us out here to grill shashlyk or whatever you've got in there.'
Even as he says it, his mouth waters a little. There's been enough time between the morning's squid adventure and now for more grilled things on sticks to sound pretty damn good to his ears.
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If he'd paid more attention in geography lessons, he might know more about whatever's out there across the water -- some Korea or other, probably, if there's nothing else in the way. Right now, there's not much more to see than the outline of some boats near the horizon. He could turn his head to the right, and Hasetsu Castle would be somewhere in that direction (because it's not like you can miss seeing a huge fuck-off castle right on the edge of the shore). He could turn his head to the left, and there's the basket of food and the fire, and Viktor and Katsudon and Viktor's dog.
And that's it. That's everything to see.
(What the hell are they doing here?)
'So are we supposed to be cooking over that thing or what?' Yuri says, jerking his chin towards the little fire. He tucks up his legs almost to his chin, trying to shift to find a more comfortable position for his ass on the flat, slightly pebbly sand. It's still a bit warm from the sun, thankfully. 'I'm pretty sure you didn't haul us out here to grill shashlyk or whatever you've got in there.'
Even as he says it, his mouth waters a little. There's been enough time between the morning's squid adventure and now for more grilled things on sticks to sound pretty damn good to his ears.