This rock in orbit around a gas giant—it barely even qualifies as a moon, honestly—was meant to be Yuuri’s isolation.
Yuuri was supposed to be a warrior in his shoal. He was taught the songs that would lure even the greatest ships from their pre-destined path, his claws are definitely sharp enough to shred their metal hulls and pick out the juicy little morsels wandering around inside. Theoretically, he should have been amazing at his calling.
And he didn’t want to be.
Just the thought of it has him burying his head in his arms, the delicate frills along the side of his face and back flaring in defense as his tail sweeps the rocky floor. He is such a disappointment to his family and friends—
But there’s one person he somehow, someway, isn’t a failure to.
Vitya waves at him from a little ways off, his long silver hair a flowing halo around his face, soft gold and pink scales glittering in the light of distant stars, and his fins gossamer as they float around him. The thin scales and skin around his blue, galaxy-like eyes crinkles as his giant kraken takes advantage of Vitya’s distraction and wraps around him. Makka is always up to no good, but in the cutest ways, so Yuuri’s long since stopped trying to control Vitya’s doting on his spoiled-rotten space creature.
“Yuuri, you look so sad!”
“I’m not—” Yuuri scowls. Fine, so maybe he was letting himself get a little sad.
“Come and play fetch with us!” Vitya throws his arms out to wave again, and both Makka and Yuuri watch the one hand that holds a particularly shiny bit of space shuttle from their last hunt in it.
Yuuri sighs, but can’t hold back a grin as he pushes himself off the ground, drifting through the thin atmosphere and toward his family with slow strokes of his tail.
This rock in orbit around a gas giant—it barely even qualifies as a moon, honestly—was meant to be Yuuri’s isolation. Instead, it’s his home.