[Back on Shatterdome turf, at last. It felt good after a month's suspension, but he knew it wouldn't last long. They told him he'd have to start at the bottom again--any screw up during the first three months, and he was out on his ear, just like anybody else. That, as well as extra training and restricted free time, was one of the many benefits of getting "reassigned" (as the official papers said) to the Valparaiso Academy.

Yuri's CO hadn't been so diplomatic about telling him the news.

So he had to make sure to dot his 'sirs' and not cross his arms when standing at attention, iron his uniform, shine his boots, the works. Thankfully, he'd nailed down the science of where, when, and how to sneak off. Just because he was used to the rigmarole didn't mean it didn't get to him, sometimes.

So he had eaten a hasty lunch, not even bothering to sit before he'd ducked out of the cafeteria and headed for outside, finding a secluded rail to lean against as he took off his jacket and pulled out his hairtie. He did a quick double-check for anyone approaching who might dock him for 'being out of uniform' before he tilted his head back to look at the cloudless sky, his shoulders finally relaxing in the clean, stiff starch of his uniform shirt.]