optimistic
adjective
hopeful and confident about the future
Hiroko took Akari after Viktor stood in the middle of the room, completely still for fifteen minutes.
They wheeled in a bassinette, but the room was too big for it.
It was missing Yuuri.
Viktor was told secondhand—or at least, he felt like the words reached another Viktor on another plane—that it was too early to risk taking the baby to a waiting room. That they could wait here, or go to the surgical waiting room on the third floor.
Toshiya entered the room, and talked with his wife in hushed, somber tones.
It wasn't fair.
This wasn't a trade, or a bargain. He had only wanted a family, and now he was holding one he barely knew, while the love of his life floated somewhere above them.
Viktor sunk into the small leather couch in the corner of the room once Hiroko took over. He paced the hall, going to the third floor waiting room before turning around and going back to the maternity ward.
He stood in the doorway of the room, watching the elevator. After twenty minutes, he gave up. He tuned into the chatter from the nurses, who hovered around together.
He carefully typed each kana into the browser of his phone, the word hammered into his consciousness each time the nurses repeated it with shock.
He translated it to Russian, but it still didn't make sense.
Rupture.
He felt like his heart had ruptured.
It was his fault. If he had woken earlier, if he hadn't hesitated about knocking on doors, Yuuri would still be in the room.
He would have had the C section as planned, and childbirth wouldn't have ripped Yuuri away from them.
Despite the world ending, the sun still rose. It was irritatingly sunny—the sun threw its rays directly into the room, warming the forgotten cup of coffee Toshiya had offered Viktor hours earlier.
It wasn't until the sun was fully up that the doctors came to the walked right past Viktor, to his mother and father. Viktor fought past his anger to key into the words—to see if they used nakunarimashita, he passed, we're worry for your loss..
He didn't hear them. Hiroko only moved forward, patting Viktor's arm before taking his hand and leading him on like a small child.
He followed blindly, up to the elevator and to the recovery rooms, small beds separated by green curtains.
He thought Akari was the most beautiful thing he'd seen, but Yuuri had that beat.
Beautiful, gorgeous Yuuri, sweaty and damp and pale, awake but drowsy and staring at the ceiling.
Beautiful, precious Yuuri, his voice rough and far away, his expression dreamy with traces of anesthesia running from him as tubes of saline and blood ran into him.
"Oh, Yuuri." Viktor sobbed, collapsing his husband and pressing his face into his heart.
"Careful." Yuuri croaked. His stomach was wrapped in gauze, the hospital gown gone. Tubes ran in and out of him—draining stents, fluids… it didn't matter.
"I love you so much Yuuri, if I had known that you were in danger, I would have never—I'm so sorry." Viktor sobbed, the words running together.
Yuuri clumsily brushed his fingers through Viktor's hair. "I love you too." He murmured. "Where's our daughter?"
"Back…in your room…" Viktor lifted his head, a lump still stuck in his throat.
"You can't just leave our only child alone." If it was a normal conversation, the words would be strained with anger. But Yuuri's voice was slow and softened by the edge of anesthesia still lingering in him.
"I…." Viktor trailed off. He had been worried about Yuuri, the baby hadn't crossed his mind. They were in a hospital anyway, and Toshiya and Mari were still there…probably.
"I'm serious. You don't get a redo." His voice was scratchy, his fingers lightly trailing over the gauze and bandages wrapped around his lower torso.
"A redo? You mean…" Viktor couldn't see the length of the incision, but the surgery had taken long enough…
"Everything's gone. No more babies." Yuuri quipped.
"I'm sorry, that's not what I want-"
"Shhh. It's fine. It's…good." Yuuri's lips curled into a soft smile at the look of Viktor's face.
"One less step for bottom surgery." Yuuri murmured.
"That's a ridiculous way to look at this. You almost died!" Viktor bristled.
"I lost a lot of blood. I never died." Yuuri waved a loose hand.
"No one ever told me that." Viktor whined. Yuuri touched his cheek tenderly, rubbing his thumb against the delicate skin.
"I'm sorry. We should've found a hospital with an English speaking doctor."
"At 2 am? Not likely." Viktor huffed, his ego defeated. " I'm glad you're okay."
After a second check from the anesthesiologist, the hospital released Yuuri back to his room. Without even waiting for him to ask, Hiroko transferred the baby from her arms to Yuuri's.
"She looks just like you." Viktor cooed. A few hours after birth, and she looked more human.
"Don't be silly. She has your mouth. Your nose. And she's practically blonde." Yuuri stared lovingly down at Akari.
"She has your eyebrows…and your eyes. I hope she has your hairline." Viktor smoothed back the downy puff of dark brown hair.
"I'll love whatever forehead she gets." Yuuri leaned down and kissed the crown of her head.
"Did you tell anyone?" Yuuri's voice was low and soft. Between the transfer, Viktor had given time for his parents and sister to fuss over him. He hadn't pulled out his phone in hours.
"….No. I was too caught up."
"Phichit will be mad. Take a picture." Yuuri shifted his elbows as far as he could move them without pain.
Viktor turned, sitting uncomfortably on the side of the bed in order to get the perfect selfie angle. Mari stopped in the middle of her conversation with her mother, watching with a wry look of disapproval.
They had offered before, but Viktor rarely gave up the role of photographer.
He sent the picture, no words needed, to Chris and Phichit. Phichit answered within two minutes
Phichit: OMG
Phichit: OMG OMG OMG SHE'S PERFECT
Phichit: UNCLE P SAYS HELLO!
Chris answered within the next ten minutes.
Chris: Good morning. Welcome to the world, Akari Ekaterina. Well done. ;)