Yuri's eyes follow the motion, watching the action -- and like ballet, like skating, there's a point at which you have to make the attempt yourself. So he picks up his own chopsticks again, taking care to settle them into the position he'd been shown. 'Okay,' he says quietly, more to himself than to Katsudon. 'I'll try it now.'

One thing he'd noticed during the explanation is that he'd been holding the chopsticks too close to the tips before, out of an impression that it would be easier to maintain control of them if his hand were closer to the operational end. That's apparently not the case at all. So this time, he pushes the sticks forward in his hand a fraction of an inch, wiggling his thumb backwards to compensate for the new position. A tentative test, using his forefinger and the edge of his middle finger to move the upper stick against the hinge created by the pad of his thumb, and it still feels unusual but it doesn't seem like the whole thing's going to fall apart on him right this second. So he picks up the bowl to bring it closer to him, as Katsudon had, and goes in for the first strike.

The steaming rice does seem to helpfully stick to itself, and with some careful digging and prodding against the side of the bowl Yuri gets a chunk of it on his chopsticks. His hand's slightly too tense to be wholly comfortable, but the rice seems to be cooperating with his intent. Rather than hesitate any longer over it, he lifts the chopsticks, and at the same time brings his head down a little in an awkward attempt to meet the rice halfway.

It's shaky, but he gets it in his mouth. That's the important thing.

(The slight mmrph he lets out as he does so is equal parts surprise and relief.)