Even after what seemed many hours, they were still not allowed to enter see him, not until they transferred him to the intensive care unit. Yuuri's mother, Hiroko Katsuki, arrived later the next day, together with her older daughter, Mari. It took her a whole lot of effort for Mari to calm her down. How would you expect a mother to react on this kind of situation, anyway? At least, one of them had to be stronger.
Only one person at a time was allowed at the room and at least, she managed to stop from crying for now. The only noise in the room was the steady beeping of the machines that indicate that her son was alive. However, he looked nothing like "alive." The doctors said her son would undergo another operation in a few more days. They would just have to observe him for now, the doctors said.
Even if he woke up, he wouldn't be able to walk again.
Mari, Phichit – he met him once when she was talking to her son at Skype, and silver-haired man that were a few years older than her son were waiting outside of the ICU.
She looked at her son. Bandages, casts and all machines to keep her son alive. She wanted to touch his hand, but she couldn't in fear that it may break. Her son looked so fragile. She started crying again, this time, quietly like a mother who was so afraid of waking her sleeping child up. That's right, he was just sleeping.
Hiroko remembered the days when he was just a new born child. He cried a lot when he was all alone, but when she held his small hands, he stopped crying.
She remembered all the times she held his hand – when he first learned how to walk, when he first learned how to skate, and even the most random times she held his hand when they were in the supermarket, and taking a random walk at a nearby park. Those simple, yet happy moments flashed back all too suddenly for her to handle.
Yuuri was not a demanding child. As long as he could hold his mother's hand, he would be fine. She finally touched his son's hand lightly and gently, like a feather's kiss. As long as he could hold his mother's hand, he would be fine.
Shakily, she got out of the stifling room, and three heads perked up upon the soft creaking of the door. Mari quickly stood up and assisted her mother in sitting down. She felt like all the strength she had dissipated.
When their telephone rang, she was not expecting a bad news.
She was expecting her son to call and say 'hello' – something that he never had done for quite a long while.
She wasn't expecting to have to book a flight almost eight hours away just to see her son… The last word was stuck there, she could not bear to imagine it at all.