cigarettes // yuri on ice

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The next night Yuri went to the same bench, at around the same time. He usually rode the bus in the morning, before he had to work. Where he rode? Nowhere in particular. He just liked riding it. It was his hobby of choice that he chose when he realized his life was dreadfully boring and he needed something to keep him going-

So he rides the bus, usually looking out the window at his surroundings in Japan. They were quite beautiful, even if it was the most common place. Although Yuri didn't go far on days he had to work, on weekends and vacations he would take a pocket full of money for food and bus pay, and disappear for days, weeks at a time; going where ever it took him.

Last night, the night where he met that strange man, was his time riding the bus at night. He didn't know why, he just thought it would be cool to see the city lights, and he thought it would cheer him up. It was approaching the second year anniversary of Mari's death.