It's an odd day, a very odd day, because Yuuri never wakes up this early in the morning.
Victor tightens his robe, and struts out of the room to find Yuuri at the front porch, tying up his shoes. At the sound of footsteps, he turns to smile. His eyes are still puffy and droopy from sleep; well, what else one must expect when he loses the sense of time watching one skating video after another, still trotting about his room at 1:30 a.m. Yuuri oversleeps often, and Victor allows him to get away with it; he's coaching in private after all, and while discipline is super-important, it doesn't hurt to take it easy once in a while.
(The truth is, he surrenders to his eyes, but hush, no one's supposed to know.)
"Are you going for a run?" Victor sounds hoarse. He ought to freshen up, and get into his tracks and jacket.
"No, actually," and now Yuuri's smiling nervously, and Victor has no idea what it means, "I'm going out to buy some flowers. If I'm not early, they'll be all out soon and the only ones left will be saggy."
Flowers? Saggy? 4 a.m in the morning? What's happening? Who is he getting flowers for?
Watching Victor's slightly dazed eyes, slightly fallen jaw, slightly furrowed eyebrows, Yuuri begins to clarify. "Victor, today's haha-no-hi. Mother's day," he translates in English, "I'm getting them for Okaa-san."
Oh.
As a five-time Grand Prix gold-medalist, Mother's Day has been a foreign concept for Victor.
"Victor, have you seen Mari-nee chan?" Yuuri breaks into his trance. At the slight shake of Victor's head, Yuuri low-key fist-punches in the air. Victor guesses it must be a curious case of sibling rivalry, because Yuuri's eyes are shining with excitement. They're adults and it probably hasn't struck them yet that they might make the day better working in partnership instead.
"Is it - is it okay if I come along?" Victor asks. For some incomprehensible reason, he's scared to.
Yuuri grins. "Sure!"
Victor runs back to his room and changes into his regular set of clothes. Makkachin is still curled up on the floor, so he decides against nudging her awake. He's back to the porch in another two minutes and together they set out for the market.
The Hasetsu market isn't as big and bustling as it is in its peak, but there's certainly more crowd than one'd expect at this time of the morning. Yuuri pauses at a flower shop, then shrugs and chooses another.
"Mari-nee chan got an upper hand on me for five whole years," Yuuri mumbles, smiling, "I wished Okaa-san over the phone but it's never the same. I thought... I thought when I get back I'll give her my medal as the gift but..."
"Hey," Victor rests his hands on Yuuri's shoulders even as they slump in disappointment, "Now you know what to give her next year."
It eventually makes Yuuri chuckle, and Victor's heart flutters. "I hope so."
Buying flowers is hard; they're spoilt for choice - Yuuri chooses a traditional bouquet of red carnations but Victor has his eye fixed on that one unique-looking daffodil; eventually Yuuri relents and they make the seller pop it in the middle of the bouquet ("If you squint and look closely, it looks like a fish eye," Yuuri snarks, much to Victor's mock-sadness). Then there's a moment of unison and confusion when Yuuri starts to haggle and Victor pulls out his credit card, and with a deep sigh Yuuri let's the seller (and Victor) have their way.
"Okaa-san doesn't like expensive stuff," Yuuri tells him, "I can make katsudon but there's no point in it, it can't get better than hers. Mari makes better tamagoyaki. I'm sure she's already up and on it."
Victor can't help but sense this sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach. The more he tries to ignore it, the more it seems to crawl around and make his insides rumble. And Yuuri's timing cannot have been any worse.
"Victor, how did you celebrate Mother's day in Russia?"
He doesn't remember. He remembers skating to a mother-themed programme at an exhibition somewhere around May, he remembers some songs and some movies, he remembers practicing till late at night, but he doesn't remember cards, or flowers, or special home-made food. Or familial warmth, or comfort, or assurance. Sometimes St. Petersburg is too fucking freezing for that.
Victor lets out a sad laugh, and buckles up before Yuuri can notice it, "I bet I was hanging off Yakov's tail. He's the Russian troupe's short-tempered soccer mom."
Their eyes lock for a split-second, and two shops later, they're still awkwardly silent. Victor swears under his breath, damn it, he didn't want to make Yuuri feel guilty over his innocent, and frankly, wonderful excitement.
It doesn't take too long though. By the end, Yuuri still has the bouquet fresh and fragrant, he has a small card with a handwritten message (when they got to the card store, Yuuri unhesitatingly made a beeline towards the blank ones, so it mustn't have been a spur of the moment thought; Victor looked over his shoulder to peek at the message but to his grief, it was all Japanese), and a really cutesy wallet.
The weird part is that the sight of everything's making Yuuri nervous now, even as he fidgets around, rubbing his fingernails together, behaving like he's about to be called in by his boss and fired from the office.
"Yuuuuri, why are you so worried?"
"I don't know, I don't know," he fumbles over his words, worry lines on his forehead, "It's been five years, I probably should've gotten something better, I don't know..."
This boy is so oblivious it hurts. He doesn't realise the effect he has on people just by talking to them. In all honesty Yuuri can gift Victor a trash bag, and Victor'll feel blessed. This is his own mother they're talking about. What can go wrong?
Victor places his arm around Yuuri's shoulder, wrapped a little more tightly than last time. He doesn't want to come off too strong, so he waits. When Yuuri accepts it, he latches his other arm and hugs him sideways. It's a shame that it's the only standardised way of comforting Yuuri he has learnt in the past one month, it's lame, lame as fuck, because it contradicts all of Yuuri's usual touch-repelling antics, and makes Victor certain that Yuuri's just being polite. It's pathetic, but for some odd goddamn stupid reason, he doesn't mind being pathetic around Yuuri.
(That odd goddamn stupid reason also keeps tempting and forbidding Victor to kiss him, but hush, no one's supposed to know.)
"Better?" whispers Victor.
From the corner of his eye, he can see the curve of Yuuri's smile. "Better."
Victor has to give Yuuri a little push into the room Mrs. Katsuki is sitting in, even as Yuuri hesitates at the door. His sister Mari is in there too, helping with folding some of the garments. A smaller bouquet, and a litter of gift wrapping lies on the centre table, implying Mari has already beat Yuuri to the punch in promptness if nothing else. Something smells good too, which means the line of surprises is probably not over yet.
Both look up when Yuuri walks in, bouquet and card in one hand, the wallet in his pocket, and the other hand scratching the back of his head. Mrs. Katsuki seems to be aware what this is about, as her face lights up the moment her eyes land on her son. Behind her, Mari too, is gazing at her furiously blushing brother in adoration.
Victor stays back, a step in the room, a step outside. Till now he's had no qualms about mixing with others, he's even straightforwardly and unabashedly declared how he's going to stay here the day he's arrived, he's made friends with most of the people at the onsen, even the guy that goes fishing every morning near the police box knows him, but this... this feels like a warm, private, protective bubble, and someone who doesn't understand it, someone like him can't just step in for he might burst it. He's left out, but it's okay; at least he got to witness, if never experience it.
Yuuri has been reading out the card to her in Japanese. "... Okaa-san itsumo arigatou, from Yuuri... and Victor."
Victor's head shoots up at that, and his chest goes ba-dump. He heard it wrong, didn't he? Why will Yuuri add his name in a personalised card to his mother?
Mrs. Katsuki hops on her feet, her cuddly face holding that bright smile, her big gentle eyes glimmering (Yuuri has her eyes, it isn't a hard observation), and opens her arms for a big hug. It often occurs to Victor that hugs are perhaps not a part of everyday Japanese culture, but everything in this family, this house, this inn, this tiny town is upside-down and warm and different, and Victor loves it.
She barely comes up to his shoulders as his chin touches the top of her head in that polite hug, "Arigatou Vicchan," she says, and continues, while Victor's comprehension of the language stops at the first two words. He glances at Yuuri for explanation; Yuuri is grinning, and some nonsensical fear strikes Victor's heart because... as loving as this family is, it can't be a joke can it?
"She says she's - "
Mrs. Katsuki stops Yuuri midway, and even as she faces Victor, she clears her throat, her cheery disposition intact, as if she wants to say it by herself. "Vicchan... o-negaishimasu... call... umm, m-me... me," she utters more boldly the second time, then turns to Yuuri for guidance. They exchange some Japanese ("From now on," Yuuri tells her the English words), then she begins from the scratch.
"Vicchan, o-negaishimasu call me from now on... Okaa-san... mama?"
When he senses something wet near his chin, Victor realises he has been crying. "Yes," yes, all the yes'es in the world.
She speaks something again, and this time in response, Yuuri lets out a long, agonised, comical groan. It's almost as if he doesn't want to say it aloud. "She's asking if you want to see my baby pictures."
"Wow! Yes!"
"Noooo!"