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Plumes of smoke rose upwards before Viktor's eyes, before being carried away in the open air. The boy was lost in his thoughts for a moment. The blue tinted eyes fixed on the sky above as his wrist hung loose, slender fingers holding the cigarette in place for a few moments as he relaxed back in the seat.

The horn of a car nearby finally pulled the Russian out of his reverie, and he sat up in his seat. The plush red leather of his convertible faintly squeaked as he got out of the car, pushing the door closed behind him with an audible thud.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, the taller platinum haired boy, who couldn't have been older then eighteen , pulled up the collar of his leather jacket around his neck. Viktor dropped his cigarette, having finished it now, crushing it with his foot before walking no more than a couple steps across a short road,  finally reaching the school.

Silently, he chose to examine around at the others who had their own groups, receiving a few looks back, as well as multiple girls sending short lived waves and winks. He brushed those off with ease because he's a cool dude, instead looking ahead in attempts to find his own group, or so called 'gang'.

They were trouble makers, each one of them knew it, their rebellious teenage side taking over with the advantage of living on the wealthier side of town. It was easier for them to slip out of things when their family had money, as well as a higher status.
So, like most teens did, they took advantage, staying out past curfew, drinking, smoking, driving a little /too/ fast on the roads, hanging around hot chicks. Attacking people. The usual.

Viktor, of course, befriended these people, though barely fit in with this group of delinquents, and though he occasionally didn't agree with what they did, it was better to fit in sometimes, anyways, some of them were actually quite nice, and pretty loyal.

Finally, the boy spotted his friends through a crowd, smiling as one of them called out loudly for him, another whistling. He must admit, they were fun to be around. Viktor approached, giving a soft chuckle as he seemed to fit right in instantly, talking to a few girls his friends managed to pick up.

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There were many aspects of Yuuri's life that he had slowly grown accustom to over the years. How his race kept him small, how it decided his opportunities, and how it practically sealed his fate at times. While he would have never minded being born Japanese if it meant he would still be treated similarly to other teenagers at his school, or even on his block, it was different when he was ridiculed so harshly for the 'flaw'. Sometimes, it really did make him wish he could simply pry his eyes open a little wider— enough that he wouldn't appear as if he were constantly squinting towards a bright light.

Kicking a pebble out into a nearby pothole as he hobbled down the sidewalk, sunlight blazed down upon him and the bitter taste of smoke in the air surrounded the boy. Though, the smog could have been from a heap of different sources. Cars occasionally whizzed past at questionable speeds, though did not earn more than a jolt. It really was just a typical morning for Yuuri, besides the fact that the friend he normally accompanied to school was out of town that week, leaving him to mostly fend for himself.

Fiddling with the small zippo tucked within the pockets of his faded jeans, an occasionally suspicious glance was thrown about. If his naturally boyish features weren't so overpowering through his attempt at an intimidating demeanor, the boy would be absolutely unapproachable.

Ignoring the several mocking hazes that sparked up from nearby students as he turned onto the campus, Yuuri brought a hand up to shove his fallen bangs back slightly. They were constantly drooping down over his eyes. Just because he needed to keep his glasses on for his own sake, his hair didn't need to make him appear as even more of a geek. He may have known his reputation in the eyes of his peers. Absolute garbage; a hood, even.. and being Japanese surely did not improve the perception. All he needed to do was survive eight hours in that cursed building.

Yuuri passed through the swinging front doors, head hanging down slightly as he glanced around at the different cliques with interest. For the most part, he felt rather invisible in school. Unnoticed, or even small enough for a gaze to pass right over his head. Because he was so passive, most didn't give him, nor his small gang of misfits, much trouble at all. The usual teasing and name-calling was common and easy for him to handle alone, but he avoided truly violent encounters nonetheless. He may have been poor, but he didn't need to be labeled as a filthy delinquent as well for defending himself.

Possibilities ( A Yuri!!! On Ice Fanfiction)  Where stories live. Discover now