"Hospital? Why hospital? You said you felt better…" Viktor couldn't even muster the energy to whine. He just felt tight. His throat, his chest. It hurt, and he had no idea if it was because of little Yuri, or because of what was happening to his Yuuri.

"What's going on with your boyfriend." Yuri had been quiet until then, and had given them space… but not forgiveness apparently.

"I don't know. They're making him go to the hospital." Viktor didn't have time to worry about his relationship with his protégé right now… outside of finding a place to put him.

"My dad will drop you off at home before we go to the hospital." Yuuri left his conversation with his mother, guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. "It's a long drive to Fukuoka."

"Fukuoka?!" Viktor shrunk back, when he realized he had been surprised and loud enough that everyone turned to look back at him. Even Yuri, who was being shooed into the back row of the van. "Why so far? What about the clinic you brought me to when I got a cold?"

Yuuri stared at his feet.

Somehow, this felt more like than just his nerves.

It was easy to forget that Yuuri was a little different. Why he had been at the special Olympics and not the main events….

" My doctor is based in Fukuoka. Clinics are general doctors." He licked his dry lips. "My mom is worried that the cancer I had when I was in the junior league is coming back."

"Cancer? I thought you were in a car accident or something," Viktor lost his tact as he felt the pit of his stomach turn icy. Cancer. Cancer? Yuuri had run with him every morning, done every skate Viktor had asked him to try. There was no way Yuuri was sick.

"No." Yuuri still couldn't look up at him, his dark hair in his eyes. "I ignored what was going on, thinking it was part of skating. I decided it was better to lose my feet and skate with prosthetics than try and fix my feet." His shoulders were shaking, and his cheeks were wet.

Viktor pulled him close, wrapping his arms around Yuuri, tucking his head under his chin. "I'm glad you kept skating."

"There's nothing else I'm good at, anyway." Yuuri's voice wobbled, weak and losing its strength.

"You were good enough to bring me to Japan." Viktor moved with Yuuri as his mother came to shoo him into the van. Yuuri slouched into him once they were in the van, Yuuko talking with Mama Katsuki just outside the car.

"I'm sure it's nothing." Viktor said, pushing back his long bangs. He paused, pulling back his hand and staring at his own fingers.

They were slick and wet with tears.

"But I want to go to Fukuoka with you."

Viktor didn't like hospitals in Russia, and he didn't like Japanese hospitals either. There were no cute mascots or vending machines. The nurses wore uniforms that made them look like they had come out of a cartoon, and they were barely around. Hiroko ended up stepping out a few hours after they arrived, coming back with several bags from the Seven-eleven down the street.

Even though Viktor had been amazed at the freshness and variety from convenience stores, somehow today the katsu curry tasted bland and dry in his mouth. Yuuri had even less of an appetite, only poking at the caramel custard pudding his mother had gotten for dessert.

It wasn;t that he was nauseous. He had done many sports physicals before, and submitted blood samples to ensure he wasn't doping. But somehow, watching the four vials of blood being drawn from Yuuri's arm had shaken him. The way Yuuri hadn't even blinked when the needle poked him, or when they put a line to draw the blood from. His hand naturally moved to accommodate the oxygen reader, and he didn't tense when the IV line was put in.

He was quiet.

Mari had facetimed earlier, with Vicchan and Makkachin taking up the screen, but Yuuri was mostly quiet.

Rather than push him, Viktor spent most of his time staring at the chart at the end of the bed and fiddling with his translator app. He had gotten better at isolating the sounds in conversation, and had a ongoing list of words to try out and add to his study list.

Nikiforov-v 18:05 he still isn't talking

Giacristophe 18:06 you can say something

Nikiforov-v 18:06 then he will just feel bad that he isn't translating

Giacristophe 18:06 I don't think he worrys about you right now

Nikiforov-v 18:07 he always does. That's why we're here

Giacristophe 18:07 its not your fault

Nikiforov-v 18:08 I want to do something

Giacristophe 18:08 you said anemi?

Nikiforov-v 18:08 anemia

Giacristophe 18:08 give him the blood

Giacristophe 18:42 viktor?

Giacristophe 19:01 don't go crazy

He looked adorably sleepy when Viktor jumped up and leaned on the end of Yuuri's hospital bed. "Yuuri! What blood type are you?"

"Wha? Uh, A-type….why?" This had come out of the blue. He knew Viktor wasn't anywhere near fluent enough to hear what his doctors had said. There was a shortage on A type donations due to the injuries from a 5.7 earthquake further notice. But with bed rest and fluids, Yuuri would be fine until the tests came back.

Viktor pumped his fist in the air. "So am I."

"Oh… that makes sense." He narrowed his eyes, staring at Viktor.

"What does that mean?" Viktor shrunk back, looking offended, even though he had no idea how.

"Perfectionist."

"Wouldn't that be the same for you?" Viktor made a face, secretly glad that Yuuri was finally talking back.

"I don't really pay attention to that kind of stuff." He shrugged, moving the shovel-like mini spoon in his pudding cup. "Why?"

"I can donate to you!"

Yuuri immediately flushed. "No! No, its okay." Maybe Viktor was more fluent than he gave him credit for.

"No. Please. I want to."

Yuuri slid down his pile of pillows, refreshingly pink. "Don't you think… that's a little… intimate?" he murmured, shrinking under his blanket.

Viktor finally felt like smiling. "I know your blood rushes for me, I should only return the favor!" He chirped with his sweet heart-shaped smile. Yuuri disappeared under the blankets, squawking with embarrassment. Hiroko looked up from her paperback, peering over the edge curiously.

Yuuri immediately sat up, Viktor automatically going up to fix and fluff the pillows behind Yuuri's back.

"Mama, Viktor wants to donate blood. He's type A."

"Oh! Just that?"

Yuuri felt like disappearing under the blankets forever

"Vicchan is so sweet. I'll tell Yamamoto-sensei when she comes."

It was more anxiety inducing to be in the hospital without Yuuri than it was sitting uselessly in his room. Even if he was paying attention, he wouldn't have been able to understand anything the nurses said. They ended up bringing the questionnaire back to Yuuri's room, and went back to basic English. "Arm" and if he didn't position it right, they would take it and turn it over. "Pinch" and he knew to look away until they covered the needle with a piece of fabric tape. When staring at the wall wore out its welcome, he sneaked a peak at the tube coming out of his arm.

He had expected it to be more vibrant, more red, more life-inducing. But it looked more purple than anything, and looking at the tube made his stomach lurch. It was part of his body, and yet it wasn't.

But it was for Yuuri.

By the time Viktor had realized he wasn't going anywhere until finishing the juice box with a smiling orange on it, Yuuri had already fallen asleep.

Viktor had offered to use his credit card at the hotel chain next to the hospital, but they had declined. They stopped by 7-11, Yuuri's father stopping to get a coffee milk, and handing a bottle of Calpis soda and a small brown glass bottle.

"Energy!" He mimed flexing his muscles, before tapping the brown glass bottle. Viktor nodded, grateful for their hospitality and even thinking of him while they left behind their only son in the hospital room. The drink tasted awful, too herbal and grass like, but he downed it all between sips of his favorite yogurt drink. They got back to Yuutopia past midnight, the resort already dark and asleep. He stopped on his way to his temporary room, the door to Yuuri's room still open. Makkachin and Vicchan were both on his head, curled around each other in a nest of blankets. As if they knew.

Makkachin lifted her head, staring at him through the twilight.

He joined them for the night.