Notes:

This is the original ending that I included with the printed zine (that benefits )

It was kind of rushed, and while it has the spirit of how it was going to end... I wanted to write more. So I will write more, which will be published later on. If you would like to read more, the story will be published in chapters after this, but will not include this chapter in the canon. (As it's an ending... basically, if you want to read more childhood fluff, ignore this ending entirely)

I'm not a huge fan of dictating how things go and end, but I also think closure is nice... so take of this ending what you will! Thanks so much for reading and commenting. It means so much to me. 3

Chapter Text

"So it's Mila, Yurio, your father, Yakov, Lilia, Georgi… and Alina?" Yuuri went over the guest list again. He would have been fine giving Akari a cake and skyping his parents for her first birthday, but Viktor demanded a party. He had found a bakery in town that would copy the Japanese-style fruit and cream cake, down to the chocolate placard on top. Akari's outfit was planned, just short of a tiara, folded in tissue paper well out of reach.

"Your parents too." Viktor sang. Akari was sitting on the living room rug, babbling happy as Mochi licked her cheek. Makkachin watched matronly next to her, taking her job as toddler-support very seriously. Yuuri doubted his parents would last long—the time difference, and the fact that they were throwing a party for a child whose entire lexicon consisted of papa and pupup. Akari was adorable, but the party was more for Viktor than for their darling daughter.

"Okay, okay. Email sent." Yuuri sat up, setting the laptop down.

Makkachin immediately started whining.

"Oh Makka, oh Mochi-chi. I know." Yuuri cooed. "Come on, Katyushka, time for a walk." Yuuri scooped up his daughter. Viktor paused in his cooking enough to help Yuuri into the baby-backpack, setting Akari in it and buckling her in. H He pressed a kiss to her head, earning a squeal of delight, before kissing his husband square on the lips.

"Ittekimasu." Yuuri said as he clipped on the leashes and opened the door.

"Itterashai!" Viktor sang back, turning to watch until the door snapped shut.

The phone rang not long after.

Hello Viktor, we have good news.

Sorry, who is this?

Viktor checked his caller ID. It was saved, but he was surprised he still had the name in his address book.

There's a birth mother interested in meeting you. She's later in her pregnancy, and is eager to meet you as soon as possible.

Viktor hesitated. He hadn't heard from their case worker in nearly two years, and it had been longer than that since they had been chosen.

Well, this weekend—

Perfect

Viktor rattled off the date and time he knew by heart.

It wouldn't hurt to add another guest to the list, would it?

Yuuri's expression at the news was unreadable. Akari babbled happily, reaching her chubby arms toward her papa.

"You can't move it? It's not a good time… We're already busy, and there'll be too many people to make a good impression." Yuuri rambled.

"But what about the impression we'll make? They'll see how loved Akari is, and how much we `1do for our family." Viktor bounced on his feet. Dinner was set messily on the table, now forgotten. Part of the vegetables were burnt, cooked too long during the tense phone call.

Yuuri worried his bottom lip. He still hadn't taken his coat off. The poodles sat at their feet, wagging their tails expectantly.

"We just got Akari sleeping normally…"

"It's a boy." Viktor added eagerly. He wanted to kiss Yuuri, just because his lips were so red, and he looked so nervous. But Yuuri would see it as him trying to bribe him. They didn't have enough time to have a fight about it.

"The mother was raised by her uncles…"

Yuuri blinked slowly. Akari had grabbed hold of his finger, and was now pulling it toward her mouth.

"She wants…us?"

He said it so softly, so unsurely it made Viktor ache. He managed a nod and a bright smile.

"Okay. But we need to clean, and make sure we get under the couch…" Yuuri turned and looked around the apartment. "Maybe we should get new sheets for the crib…"

The morning of the party, Viktor ached. He felt the cleaning checklist in his bones, his knees and his back.

He ignored it, instead focusing on pouring a cup of warm water over Akari's head as he bathed her in the kitchen sink. Viktor had scrubbed behind the toilet, wiped every blade of the blinds clean and taught back-to-back lessons that week. Makkachin and Mochi had even gone to the groomers, returning with matching bows.

Not to say that Yuuri hadn't done his share. He had made the list, split it evenly in half. Yuuri had scrubbed and even repainted the baseboards. He had gone through the cabinets, scrubbing and getting rid of anything that looked like it was even thinking of expiring within the next six months. Akari's baby pictures from her first shrine visit were framed and put up (however many months late) next to the shot of the two on the podium together.

"Vitya, help." Yuuri pressed his face into his husbands back, worming an arm around him and handing him a hairbrush.

Viktor handed Akari the washcloth (which was embroidered to look like a duck) ignoring the welt squelch as his daughter threw it onto the counter.

"What, was this on the list?" He started to pull the loose hairs from it before Yuuri yanked it back. His hair was slicked back, similar to how he wore it during competition. It looked fine to Viktor, but that didn't mean anything to Yuuri's anxiety.

"No. Fix it. I don't want to look like I have a bad comb-over."

Viktor decided to bite back the perfect quip that sprung up in the back of his mind.

"Mind Akari, will you?"

Yuuri scooted between him and the counter as Viktor pulled the brush through his hair. He smelled like toothpaste and shampoo, dressed in a freshly-pressed Nina Donis shirt and black slacks. It had been four months since they'd moved back to Russia, but they both still roamed the apartment in socks, leaving their shoes by the door. (Which were now in a unrealistic orderly row).

Viktor set the brush down, pulling Yuuri back into his chest and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

"You look amazing." Viktor hummed. Akari shrieked in delight—her volume button seemed permanently turned to the highest setting. No one dared asked which side of the family she inherited it from.

"Like a mature and responsible dad?" Yuuri fretted. He was ten months back on hormones, and relished it more than he had when he started his first dose. His jaw was squarer, but still soft, his shoulders felt broader… Yuuri felt right.

And terrified.

This was the first time that he felt like he had to go into Akari's origin story. The only media Akari appeared on was Viktor's Instagram. They deflected interviews, and Viktor always swayed comments on Akari's looks to stories about Makkachin singing a lullabye or how she's destined to land a Quad Lutz before her senior Debut. Yuuri always remained nervously quiet—in Japan, it was the half comments, cooed as a compliment but leaving a sour taste instead. In Russia, they always looked from Akari, to Viktor and then to Yuuri, always looking a little proud about fitting the puzzle pieces together.

He didn't feel like he owed strangers an explanation.

But a birth mother? She could be swayed by the success of a prior adoption, the fact that her child would have a sibling… many things. But they hadn't had a successful adoption. If you asked Viktor, Akari's birth hadn't been that successful either.

What scared Yuuri the most, was that he knew intimately how scared the mother was, what she was feeling in her body and her mind all at the same time. He knew it so well he was sick, not with just nerves, but with wondering how we could deal with it without ruining their chances.

The hours went by way too fast. Akari was dressed in her birthday outfit, a pink linen dress with a crisp white collar. Her fine brown hair dried quickly, and was now long enough to be brushed aside and clipped up with a sparkly pink butterfly clip. Her white tights collected no stray dog fur, even as Mochi followed behind her as she crawled and scooted across the floor.

Yuri arrived first, escorted by Mila, and holding the cake box as if it held a sacred treasure. Mila carried two large and very pink gift bags, bypassing Yuuri at the door and going straight for Akari. She plopped on the floor, already busily chatting in Russian to her Katya. Although she did nothing but smile and babble back, it helped. Akari already responded correctly to a few words in Japanese, Russian and English. She ignored 'bedtime' no matter the language.

"You're a life saver." Yuuri took the box, setting it on the kitchen counter as the blond rolled his eyes. He may have grown into a young adult, but he still hadn't dropped the teenage angst.

Yakov and Lilia arrived soon after. Akari spent the next half hour in the arms of one friend or the other, charming them with smiles and chubby hands patting their cheeks (or bald heads).

Viktor answered the door. He had told the agency the right time, but they had thankfully waited, arriving to a full house.

Viktor immediately turned on his 800-watt smile, shaking the hand of the adoption agency worker he knew too well.

"Welcome. Please come in. I'm Viktor. My husband just went to change Akari."

Viktor's hand shook as he took their jackets, hanging them up by the door. But he didn't look as scared as the mother. She looked and walked like she was carrying a bowling ball, her arms folded over her stomach to no avail. Her hair color matched Akari's, and hung to her mid-back and partially hid her face. Her eyes we wide, even behind a forced smile.

"I'm Nikita." She took Viktor's hand gently. She looked no older than the Junior league students Viktor taught… putting her around 15 years old.

Viktor wrapped his hands around hers, resisting the urge to hug her. He felt a fierce need to protect her, and instead decided to escort her to the couch. He loaded a paper plate with cheese, crackers slathered with jam and the other appetizers Viktor had cooked and friends had brought with them.

Yuuri came back into the room, cradling his cellphone to one ear, Akari on his other arm and determined to pull her papa's hair out of its gelled style. He looked stressed, barking out short instructions in his native language. Viktor could only catch a few choice words, such as cost and Wifi before he went back into how to use Skype. Akari squealed in delight, leaning out of Yuuri's arms when he was within five steps of Viktor.

Yuuri froze as Viktor caught her, swinging her up and blowing a raspberry onto her stomach. He dropped the phone to his side, a deer in the headlights.

"Hello, Yuuri. This is Nikita. What a wonderful party you have going on." The agent smoothed it over in prim and professional Russian. Yuuri took a few seconds to reboot, exchanging greetings in Russian. The girl looked impressed, but still shrunk into a corner of the couch.

"Do you need anything? A drink? Food?" Yuuri stuttered.

"Taken care of, Love." Viktor leaned over, wrapping his free arm around Yuuri and kissing the side of his face.

"Oh. Wait. You gave her everything? What if she gets sick?"

Viktor's showman smile faltered. "No one's going to get sick from our cooking, Darling."

"No, I mean… The smell. Remember what happened with Garlic? Nausea can last until nine months." Yuuri said firmly.

Viktor still couldn't look at garlic the same way.

"What happened with garlic?" Nikita's voice was shy and quiet, but curious.

"God, I couldn't stand it. Akari hated the smell, and I threw up before I even saw it. I didn't even make it to the bathroom, and I couldn't go back into the kitchen until the smell faded three days later.

"Akari….?" The girl tilted her head to the side the same time Akari cooed sweetly.

"Our daughter." Viktor interjected. It was Yuuri's job to go into any more details.

"I… I was born female, so after a couple years with the agency… Viktor and I decided to have Akari." Yuuri wrung his hands in front of his stomach.

"Oh." Nikita, however soft she looked, was hard to read. "So you understand."

Yuuri felt his eyes fill up with tears, the nerves getting the best of him. "Oh, yeah. It was the scariest part of my life. I had no idea what I was doing, and then your body starts moving, but it's not you… and it feels like your body isn't yours, and then when it's over, it's like a piece of you is walking… ah, crawling around outside of you. "

Viktor squeezed Yuuri's side, half in support- half in warning. This didn't sound like it would win him over.

"It was the hardest thing I've ever done… but it was worth it. " Yuuri rambled on even as his voice grew thick and heavy with emotion. "I felt like hell, but I take one look at Akari, and I'd do it a thousand times over. I see you, and I know what you're going through… I just… I admire you so much." Yuuri rubbed his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. Viktor squeezed him again, unsure what to do.

He decided to steady them, as Nikita stood up, colliding with them in a tight hug.

Viktor and Yuuri proudly announce their arrival of their son

Nikolai Minoru Viktorovich Katsuki-Nikiforov

September 7th, 20XX 12:10 PM

4.2kg 46 cm

Welcomed by big sister Akari Ekaterina