梅雨 tsuyu n. rainy season. Lit. plum rain
The day that Chris and Phichit left, it rained.
The air was heavy, which matched the mood. They drove back home in silence, Yuuri staring out the window with a hand resting on his belly.
Although it had been out of season that day, the grey skies and heavy air stuck around. It neared June—Rainy season, and their due date.
"Your hair will adjust, just leave it." Yuuri said, waddling back into their bedroom. Viktor was adding another serum to his platinum hair, but it still was misbehaving and frizzy.
"Easy for you to say, yours is perfect." Viktor huffed. Yuuri didn't reply, petting Mochi after he hopped up onto the bed, within reaching distance.
"I need your help." Yuuri muttered, easing onto the bed. He moved like he was heavy and everything was slippery. Adorable.
"Yes?" Viktor immediately forgot about the hair disaster and the two other products he had with him.
"Socks. Please." Yuuri spoke plainly, but his cheeks flushed pink.
Viktor was on his feet in seconds, pulling open Yuuri's dresser drawer and pulling out a pair from the communal sock drawer. He rushed over and knelt on the floor, cupping Yuuri's heel in his hands.
"Vitya, you don't need to—"
"I want to." Viktor said before Yuuri could finish his sentence. He massaged the arch of his husbands feet, eliciting a moan from the man. Viktor felt his own face blush and a tickle of pleasure run up his spine.
"Vitya, we have ten minutes till we have to leave," Yuuri tried to sound serious, but it came out as a purr. He didn't move away, no matter how much he protested verbally.
"Ten minutes is plenty."
"Ten minutes was plenty when I was 25, or like, three months pregnant. "
"Oh, are you asking for more than a massage?" Viktor quipped with a mischievous quirk to his lips.
"Don't act like you weren't trying." Yuuri grunted. "Socks, please." He wiggled his toes, bopping Viktor's nose. Viktor reluctantly slipped them on, tugging them up to Yuuri's swollen ankles.
"What appointment is it this time?" Viktor had expected ultrasounds, but Japan seemed to add some bureaucracy to it. A few of their appointments included a powerpoint, a book of pamphlets, and a packet with a keychain. Viktor had seen it hanging on purses on trains before- but it stayed in the envelope.
"Final checkup." Yuuri seemed to realize as he said the words, how real they were.
"Check up on what?" Viktor frowned, still holding Yuuri's foot.
"The baby. Paperwork. " Yuuri shrugged. "Maybe some bloodwork? I asked about my testosterone…"
Viktor smiled. "It will make you happier to be back on it, wont it."
"I didn't miss the needles…" Yuuri trailed off, subconsciously running his hand under his chin.
He had never seen anyone shave until he moved in with Viktor. He didn't expect it—growing up with his father, he never build the memory or genetic print for it. But he missed the step down in his voice, his adams apple. Everything he treasured finding in high school had faded away. It was a different kind of longing now.
"It will be nice to have a routine back." Viktor stood up, pressing a kiss to Yuuri's jawline.
"There won't be any routines… babies don't even sleep for weeks…" Yuuri mumbled.
"It's too late to back out now, love." Viktor hummed, catching his reflection in a mirror and smoothing his hair back.
Yuuri no longer flinched at the squirt of the cold gel on his stomach, or the pressure from the tech pressing the ultrasound wand into his skin. He was at utter peace, watching the monitor closely.
Viktor ended up taking a snapshot on his phone, his heart full at the sight of the sweet swell of Yuuri's belly, how his hand rested just above it. The loving stare at the grainy image projected onto the screen.
Even with years of practice, the medical terminology flew over Viktor's head. The sat next to Yuuri—wiped clean and back in his shirt as the doctor and Yuuri spoke in soft melodies. Viktor waited until they stood up, following the cue, bowing slightly and offering a handshake.
"All good?" Viktor found himself biting his bottom lip.
"Oh. Yeah!" Yuuri looked up a Viktor, before smiling. "Three weeks, and then they said we can do a C-section.
"A…. C-section?" Viktor blinked. "Surgery?"
Yuuri's smile fell. "Well, I guess? They keep you awake, but you don't feel anything."
"You don't want to feel anything?" Viktor said flatly. He'd read about doulas, water births, all sorts of different ways. They spent more time worrying about a nursery than the actual day.
"No. Nothing." Yuuri said, his expression becoming ever so slightly grave. "I could barely deal with you…" His gaze fluttered away. "You know. " He cleared his throat. "I can't deal with a bunch of doctors for god knows how long…"
"Okay." Viktor sounded angry, but he wasn't.
He was terrified.
The closest to surgery he ever ventured was six stitches in the emergency room after a close call with another skaters foot.
He knew it wasn't how his mother had died. That the surgeries had been to try and save her.
But it was hard to separate the two after a lifetime.
"Vitya, I want ice cream." Yuuri took his hands, waddling toward the door.
"Yes, my love." Viktor chirped, as if he was conditioned.
"Vitya."
There was a rush of constant rain that hadn't let up since that morning.
Viktor had ventured outside to pluck a few branches of ajisai—hydrangea—sparing Hiroko from the pelting heavy drops.
The rest of the day had been spent indoors, away from the impenetrable wetness.
It was past midnight, and the downpour showed no signs of letting up. Even the frogs had stopped croaking.
"Mh? Do we need to evacuate?" The TV had been on during the day, showing the path of Typhoon No.11. It was hitting Fukuoka directly, but was just brushing by Hasetsu.
Viktor hated to imagine what the people in the center of the storm were dealing with.
Yuuri keened in pain. "No."
Viktor sat up. Yuuri was on his hands and knees on the bed. Makkachin and Mochi were on either side of him, staring and silently beating their tails on the mattress.
"Vitya, it hurts." Yuuri cried, before sucking in a whistling breath.
"What hurts? Bad hurts?" It was still early in June. They just had the appointment. They just got the pamphlet on labor.
"Bad hurts." Yuuri grunted, rolling onto his back and pressing a hand to his stomach. "Wake up my mom."
"We have to go to the hospital." Viktor jumped out of bed.
"Pants." Yuuri grunted through his teeth, Viktor stopped, before searching the floor for his underwear and a suitable set of clothing.
"I know where the hospital is." Viktor said, pulling on a Tshirt he had fished for blindly.
"It might be closed."
"Closed? Hospitals close here?" Viktor's voice rose and his face twisted into disgust.
"Now's not the time for intercultural learnin—aah!"
"Yuuri, are you okay?" Viktor froze.
"Go!" Yuuri jabbed a finger toward the door. As if on the same wavelength, Mochi barked.
Viktor burst out of the door, hopping excitedly from one foot to the other.
"Shit." He stared down the hallway. He had no idea which door belonged to who. He knew where the old bedroom was, and Yuuri's room. Nothing else had mattered.
Viktor was still weighing the risk of knocking on doors or facing Yuuri again when a door slid open.
"Mari-nee-chan?" Viktor squeaked before he could catch himself. A family of night owls, they were.
She looked up, with the same tired look he'd seen in Yuuri's face before. Maybe it was later than he thought.
"We have to go to the hospital." Viktor stuttered, going back to his nervous hopping. She only blinked, repeating the Japanese word back slowly.
"Yes, Hospital! The baby!" Viktor snapped, close to biting his nails. A habit he had knocked before his senior debut.
"Oh. OH. Viktor," Mari grabbed Viktor's face in both of her hands, squeezing his cheeks. "B-YOU-IN."
"BI-YOU-IN" Viktor repeated, his brow furrowing.
"NO. No haircut. BYOU-IN" Mari said firmly. Viktor squirmed, grabbing Mari's face back.
"Vicchan, what is going on?" Hiroko's voice came from the end of the hallway. "It's three in the morning, there aren't any salons open."
A frustrated snarl erupted out of Viktor.
"Akari…kuru!" He grunted. The baby was coming, in the most basic way he knew how to say it.
The two Katsuki women flurried into activity. Hiroko disappeared into the room, the low murmur of voices announcing that Toshiya was awake now too. Mari got dressed and went down to lay out a simple breakfast and a note for the guests, before turning on the A/C on in the van.
Hiroko bustled by, as Viktor stood , lost and directionless in the hallway. He watched as she stood by the bed, rubbing the small of Yuuri's back.
"Vicchan," Hiroko called her voice calm and soothing. "Pack Yuuri some pajamas, okay?"
Viktor immediately launched into action, grabbing one of their carry-on knapsacks and throwing Yuuri's favorite pair of pajama pants and the softest tshirt into the bag.
"My back hurts," Yuuri whimpered from the bed, his face buried in the sheets. Hiroko patted Yuuri's shoulder, glancing at her watch. Rain hammered on the tile roof and the balcony outside. Yuuri had been hurting since dinner the night before—Yuuri hadn't complained, but Viktor could tell. It was why they had gone to bed earlier, and why Yuuri was sitting in a nest of pillows.
Yuuri cried out in pain. Hiroko dropped her wrist, turning and taking the bag from Viktor. "Let's go, okay?"
"Okay." Viktor said automatically, his eyes on Yuuri. He stepped forward, helping his husband slowly onto his feet. They were midway down the hallway before Yuuri's knees buckled with another cry of pain. He was breathless as Viktor went down with him, catching and cradling him in his arms.
"Yuuri, please don't die." Viktor whispered, along with a soft Catholic prayer he remembered from his childhood.
"You're not helping!" Yuuri snapped, the words ending in a wheeze. He sucked in a shaky breath, his skin warm and sticky.
Yuuri was panicking.
"I'm sorry love! I'm sorry I'm sorry!" He kept his arms under Yuuri as he tried to stand back up. They resumed their slow journey down the hall and stairs. The rest of the family was in the van when they arrived.
The step up into the van seemed impossible. Yuuri was hunched over, his head pressed into Viktor's chest. Viktor knelt, scooping up Yuuri into his arms and ducking into the van himself.
They drove twenty minutes into downtown, to the largest hospital that Viktor had seen in passing, but had never paid much attention to. Today, it seemed like the most important place in the world.
The hospital was mainly empty, and Yuuri got a room of his own within minutes. Viktor half wished that they were back in St. Peterburg, where he could easily understand the low murmur of the nurses and doctors that passed through the room. He didn't have the energy or focus to translate.
When the color drained from Yuuri's face, and he bit out in short words, begging… Viktor begged for translation. Mari sat back, in a corner of the room. Hiroko was holding Yuuri's other hand. Toshiya had faded into the background—wherever he was, he wasn't in the room.
"What did they say? What's going on?" Mari didn't translate—and Hiroko didn't look away from Yuuri, who looked close to chewing through his bottom lip.
"It's too fast." Yuuri said hollowly, but thankfully in english.
"What? " Viktor's heart dropped. It was two weeks early, but had they miscalculated? Was their baby at risk?"
"I can't do a C-section." Yuuri squeezed his eyes tightly, and tears rolled down his face. His panic mixed with the stabbing sensations in the center of his pelvis. The blood drained out of Viktor's hands, but it wasn't a sliver of the pain he could see cross Yuuri's face.
"Oh." Viktor said softly, running the fingers of his other hand up and down the back of Yuuri's hand. "You can do it. You rose from 6th place to a multi gold-medaler."
"THIS IS YOUR FAULT TOO!" Yuuri cried through another wave of pain. Viktor couldn't help but laugh.
He caught a word from one of the nurses—nippun—two minutes. Viktor hated how context-dependant Japanese was. The doctor was in no rush, and it seemed impossible for the baby to come in as little as two minutes. Yuuri had just been dressed in a gown, monitors taped to his skin.
They all averted their gaze as the blanket covering Yuuri's knees were lifted, and the doctor bowed down.
The two minutes must be why Yuuri was denied a C-section. The contractions seemed to come more often than that, but for now it was the only thing that made sense.
"When are they giving you pain medicine?" Viktor asked when the room had calmed down somewhat.
"What?" Yuuri panted. His hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat and the heavy humidity from the plum rain.
"The pain medicine. In your spine." Viktor repeated, getting worried. Yuuri translated it into Japanese, and Hiroko hummed, shaking their head. They didn't do that in Japan.
"Are you crazy?" Viktor wanted to shout. It was enough that Yuuri had to deal with the examinations and hands pressing into him, but to have to bear every sensation for the entire time was too much.
The contractions went from two minutes to every minute, even though the crowd of nurses didn't return. A single nurse would pop in and out, lifting the blanket, before being replaced by the doctor.
At 3:20 AM, Akari Ekaterina Katsuki-Nikiforov was born.
One minute Yuuri was left alone, his face crumpled in pain. The next, he was told to push. He bent forward, his damp hair falling into his eyes. He hadn't had a haircut in months. Viktor brushed it back, pressing his cold hand to Yuuri's cheek in sync with another push.
Viktor lost any sense of his environment as tears poured over Yuuri's cheeks. They flowed like a flooding river, and he stared until he heard the mewling cry behind him.
He turned, staring at awe at the little purplish baby in the doctor's hands. He felt conflicted- disgusted and in love all at once. What had been an abstract idea, then Yuuri's stomach, was a real, life, breathing human. He watched as they wiped her clean, fastening a plastic clip before handing him a pair of gloves and a set of long-nosed scissors to cut the cord .
"Hello, darling." Viktor whispered to the baby laying on Yuuri's stomach. He felt faint at the excitement—or maybe about the amount of blood. Yuuri was only sitting up by virtue of the pillows stuffed behind him, his thumb stroking the soft whorl of dark brown hair on her head.
"She's perfect, Yuuri." Viktor cooed as they swaddled her and transferred her closer to Yuuri's heart, settling her in his arms.
Yuuri's eyes shone with tears. His glasses were still on the nightstand at home, but he didn't say anything , instead captivated by the tiny face resting against his bare skin.
"I love her. I love you." Yuuri choked out as the tears came in a greater rush.
"Thank you, my love." Viktor pressed a kiss to Yuuri's lips.
Before he could process how unusually cold they were, it was too late.
The oxygen monitor clipped to Yuuri's pointer finger went haywire, alarms beeping and summoning the only other nurses on shift. Viktor was pushed back, but not far enough. Although only in the world for a few minutes, he automatically reached out and took Akari from the nurses that took her away from Yuuri. It felt like an old habit, but he was unaware, staring hollowly at the crimson red soaked blanket that was pushed to Yuuri's feet.
It was a sinister déjà vu to that day in their apartment- if it had instead turned out to be a murder scene, with blood between Yuuri's legs, saturating the fabric to the point that the awful liquid pooled on top of it.
They disconnected the monitors, transferring it to a battery on a cart. They wheeled Yuuri out of the room, leaving Viktor staring as his husband left, cradled in a halo of pillows. He felt completely alone, his newly-met daughter in his arms, although Hiroko and Mari remained.
This was not what he had prayed for.