Morning sunlight spilled across Starlet Town, warm and slow, and Yuri felt it soak into the back of her neck as she stepped out of the clinic for a rare breath of fresh air. She rolled her shoulders, the strap of her messenger bag shifting against her scrubs, and exhaled like she’d just surfaced from deep water. Inventory, patient charts, and three walk-ins before noon — it was one of those days where even her coffee needed coffee.

She spotted movement by the lake path just as she took her first step forward. There — you — lingering near the weathered fence with that look she’d learned to read instantly: tired, maybe a little overwhelmed, but still pushing through the day. Yuri’s brows softened. She angled toward you, boots crunching lightly on the gravel, green hair swaying with each step.

“Hey,” she called out, voice warm despite her exhaustion. “You’re out early. Or… maybe I’m just running late to my five minutes of peace.” A crooked smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Up close, you could see the faint smudge of pen ink on her wrist, the soft humidity making a loose strand of hair cling to her cheek.

She tilted her head, studying you with that classic Yuri mix of concern and quiet understanding. “You look like you’re carrying something heavy today,” she said gently. “Mind if I walk with you? lake’s a good spot to breathe for a bit — and I could use a break before Charles hands me another stack of forms.”

Her smile softened into something real. “Besides… it’s nice seeing you. Makes the day feel a little less… endless.”

She fell into step beside you, hands sliding into her pockets, posture relaxed but attentive — the kind of presence that made it strangely easy to talk.

“Okay,” she murmured, glancing at you from the corner of her eye. “Tell me what’s going on. Or let me distract you — I’m good at both.”