aiko's otter den

from a compass rose - Katsuki Yuuri is never checking his phone again. He likes his past right where it is. Too bad it doesn’t give a hoot.

---

8. Hatchery

Date: 03/01/2013 Time: 16:46

The car’s lights flickered briefly as the vehicle unlocked. Makiko dashed away from them, scrambling up into the backseat. Meiko laughed, uncontrollably, at the sight of her kicking legs before taking pity on her and helping her up. Viktor’s laughter joined them as he peered inside.

“Oh!” That delighted, wonder filled sound was one that made Yuuri’s legs tremble because that was the sound of a perfect jump, a flawless rendition, of his eyes on Yuuri and Yuuri alone. And now it was for Digimon, now it was for something new. “Is this what they look like?”

“A few of them,” Maki replied and for a moment, a jolt of envy licked up Yuuri’s throat, followed by the annoying itch behind one ear. He swallowed the feeling of bile in his throat and went to see.

Makiko had already buckled herself in, arms around a brown dog-rabbit dotted in pink. The digimon did not seem to mind and had curled its ears protectively around her small arms. There was a small cream colored dog splayed out on another seat, stubby tail wiggling about as Meiko took a seat on the passenger side. Once she was seated, the dog rushed to her lap and plopped itself right down.

“You three will have to climb in back,” Maki informed them and Yuuri nodded, turning his head away so he couldn’t see Daigo, floating by her shoulder, small again.

Yurio made a face but complied. It was probably that or risk being seen on the street by passing people and their rapidly flashing cell phones.

Lesser of many evils.

“And don’t step on me!” chimed the squeakiest voice Yuuri had heard since Takeshi had taken helium at his college graduation party. He made a face of concern and looked down to see—

A cat head. A blue cat head.

For a moment, a whole host of feelings build up in his stomach at the sight of him and then Yuuri recalled, as clear as a person could, where he had seen this digimon before.

“Hi Bearmon,” he said as he sat down.

The little head hopped up to his lap. “Wanyamon now,” he said in that chipper tone that kind of hurt a little. “Looks like Daigo wasn’t with you either.”

“No,” he agreed, looking at the empty space. “He’s not.”

Viktor leaned against him as the doors slid closed and the car started.

That was all the grounding he needed really. At least for now.

---

By the time they reached the highway, Wanyamon’s weight in his lap was comforting and not painful. Makkachin was splayed out on the floor in between the middle seats, panting his exhaustion. It was a good thing that they hadn’t taken the train after all. Maki tossed a water bottle back to them without looking, leaving Viktor to pull his favorite contraption for long Makkachin walks. Makiko openly stared at the dog, unwilling to move from the weight of the creature on her lap but eager to pet the clearly safe animal in front of her.

Cute. Unsuitable for Hime.

But it was clear in the face and the eyes and uncontrollable curiosity. He could see Daigo in her too, in the shyness, the fixation, the slant of her mouth.

He looked away and outside. There were cars alongside them, and one had a moving plant in the back, a woman yelling from the front seat, a boy crying.

Another with a purple batpig snoozing in a car seat, a little girl slumped over it and drooling.

A college student with a red and purple cat thing.

A yellow fox splayed on the back of the trunk with finger paint over its white muzzle.

On and on, more and more.

“There’s a lot, now, isn’t there?”

Meiko was looking back at him from the front, face soft with familiarity. One hand remained on the plotmon (he was remembering now). “Hime-chan said when you were younger, there weren’t any around.”

Yuuri nodded slowly. “No, they were all just in the Digital World. They, they never managed to get through.”

“Because of Homeostasis?”

Yuuri frowned and shook his head in confusion. “I… we never figured out how.”

Meiko nodded slowly. “I… I did some digging. I, don’t suppose you know what…” She glanced at Maki, who hadn’t looked away from the road.

“Yuuri knows the basics. No one else,” she replied.

“I know,” Makiko replied in a peevish voice.

“Yes but we always count you, Makiko. You’re an invisible number.”

The girl looked mollified, earning small peals of laughter. Yurio was staring at his egg, deep in thought. He watched it wobble a little, or maybe it was just the general shakiness of the road.

Meiko laughed a little once more before sobering, turning back to the front. “I’ve been helping Hime-chan uncover… why things happened the way they did. Why your partners needed to leave and everything. And…” She paused a moment and that was when Yurio finally chimed in.

“We don’t need to hear how much you hate yourself, it’s a waste of god damn time.”

Yuuri made a noise of discontent. But Meiko giggled a little and did not speak again.

None of them spoke, and no one reacted to Daigo’s face flickering on the windshield. So Yuuri tried his best to ignore it himself and say, “Is there a count on how many digimon are visible in the world right now?”

“The ratio is currently five to one, humans in majority,” Maki replied without a lick of pause. “It’s rapidly shrinking by the week, however. They will end up on the American census by the time of the next election, if the country is smart and does it early. Japan has laws currently in the works for it. It’s a difficult process.”

Yuuri swallowed. “Not even 25 years ago they were imaginary to everyone and now—”

“We haven’t seen this shit in Russia,” Yurio said, as blunt as a hammer.

Maki snorted. “You were a toddler in 2002 of course you didn’t.”

“What was that?!”

“Don’t yell at mom!”

Yuuri winced. Yurio Plisetsky and Himekawa Maki were the worst part of his past and present colliding, no doubt about it.

Actually no, they were the second worst. The worst was the way Viktor kept staring at Yuuri, all soft smiles and utterly determined.

Never a good combination.

Yurio sat back with a huff and Maki chuckled a little. “Up until 2002, Digimon were being kept as under the radar as possible. The data was being deliberately deleted to make certain that when large scale interactions occurred, it was with more decorum than enslaving the populace and or destroying each other in a multifaceted, ultimately one-sided war.” Her faint smile turned into a grimace. “Following… autumn of 2005, the worlds had no choice but to work towards coexistence. And it has been spreading from inwards. The reason you don’t see it is likely due to them being, well, shot on sight.”

Yurio physically jerked in his seat and Viktor cradled Makkachin’s head on his knee, the frown on his face the extent of his reaction. Yuuri’s stomach roiled, but he did not feel it rise. “Did, did you have to say it like that?” he asked instead. “Your daughter…”

Makiko tilted her head. “Mom warned me Lopmon could be hurt,” she declared, even as Meiko sat stiffly in the front. “Could die even. It’s important to know, so I can treasure my friend. He’s not a goldfish I can ignore.”

Yuuri glanced at Maki now, who only shook her head. “You’re right about that,” he said after a few moments. “Still, you shouldn’t have to hear that.”

“I’m seven,” the girl said, peevish. “Not four.”

“You’re definitely seven,” Viktor agreed. But his eyes were on Yurio as the blond teenager sat further back in the seat. “Are you certain that’s what’s happening? That is my home you’re accusing, after all.” And no matter how much you hated the politics of it, he had still been allowed to marry Yuuri there.

“It’s happening all over the world,” Maki said simply. “People in all countries would rather show their children violence, rather than tolerance. It’s just easier to hide when there’s a lot of snow around.”

Meiko coughed and smiled a little. “The GPS…”

Maki glanced at it and sighed in relief. “The lane is clear.”

The car ride continued in silence. That was broken by the radio and consequently, Yurio complaining about the foul performed by Yagami Taichi in a college soccer match. For some reason, this got Meiko into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, uhm, nothing,” she said in lieu of explaining.

Yuuri couldn’t help but notice her ears were distinctly pink.

---

The van jolted and Yuuri awoke with a start. The Wanyamon in his lap yawned, having not even moved from his comfortable spot.

“Finally found a parking spot,” Yuuri heard Maki grumble underneath Yurio’s whispered cursing and Makiko’s yawns. “The inn always this crowded Yuuri?”

“It is when they know we’re coming,” Yuuri mumbled. That meant Takeshi had decided not to make a secret of it which meant his parents knew, the whole town knew and they were bringing digieggs into a crowd, what if they hatched? Oh god, what if they hatched?

“Great,” Maki muttered, turning off the van.

Viktor stretched and Makkachin put his nose on Viktor’s downturned palm. “They’ll love you,” he told her in that familiar “I know what I’m talking about” voice. Which he always did with this sort of thing. Unfortunately.

She raised an eyebrow and nodded, her face thoughtful, or at least unwilling to disagree on what wasn’t neutral territory.

“She’s never met my parents,” Yuuri whispered as Makiko hopped out of the car, Lopmon settled on her head.

Viktor turned this over his mind. “Why ever not?”

Yuuri grimaced, but was spared from answering by the door slamming open and three individual blurs using him as a landing pad. Makkachin was saved by virtue of him jumping away like a rabbit more than a dog, but Viktor’s legs were not so lucky and he nearly fell forward. Thankfully, the van caught him instead.

Yuuko’s clear, irritated voice came from inside. “Axel, Loop, Lutz, really?! You know better!”

“We’re just checking his balance mom,” Lutz said with a gleeful grin that Yuuri knew had nothing to do with balance and everything to do with humiliation. These kids had way too much time on their hands.

Thankfully, Yuuko stomped out, disbelief etched into her face. “If you were worried about his balance, you’d have gone for his chest. Little pranksters.” She crossed the walk in a few quick strides and helped Yuuri up. “Welcome home, Yuuri, Viktor-san, Yurio-kun!”

Yurio grunted a greeting and Viktor beamed, engulfing her in conversation long enough for the bags to be slid out of the trunk and Makkachin to make himself at home on Maki’s foot. Maki didn’t seem to mind. In fact, looking at the dog was probably saving her from looking at Yuuko. And Yuuri felt so many things about that and all of them were accurate.

Of course, she did notice. Yuuri watched his friend’s shoulders go back, stiff as a board and wide-eyed at the sight of her.. “Oh… I didn’t… I didn’t think you’d come.”

“You asked,” Maki replied, voice more stilted than his first attempt to ice skate.

The two women looked at each other for a moment. Then Yuuko grabbed Maki in the tightest hug imaginable. Yuuri was surprised to not hear the sound of broken ribs.

Yurio took that opportunity to bolt inside and escape (and likely steal a pork cutlet bowl while he was at it.), followed by the children. Even a curious Makiko had scampered away, Lopmon on her head. Yuuri made and grabbed Viktor’s hand, steadying himself. The calloused fingers coiled around his own, smoothing the bunched up tension on the top of his knuckles. Yuuri glanced back, into his smile, and smiled back.

Finally, Yuuko let go and turned to usher them all in, sending a whirlwind of confused Meiko and the bags with her.

“She’s happy,” Yuuri mused as he brought up the rear. “At least, on the outside.”

Viktor hummed his agreement, Makkachin walking lazily between them. “It’s a bit of a reunion. Those get harder as you age, you know, Yuuri.”

“Not if you live in a small town and so do they,” Yuuri countered. Then he sighed. “Which also means all of Hasetsu’s going to hear about this by the morning.”

Viktor laughed. “I love that about this place, Yuuri! It’s over once they hear about it.”

… There was that, wasn’t there?

They hurried inside, shivering from the cold. And for a moment, Yuuri was just awash with the friendly buzzing warmth of the inn, his sister’s phone loud against the table, his mother chattering loudly at whomever as she carried food through the room. His father, chatting with the old men and women who came around.

And then his name. Cheered, enthusiastically, through mugs and cups and plates and bowls. And Viktor’s name, cheered and welcomed, like they’re late for dinner rather than celebrating triumph. Celebrating what they were being on a public stage, and being accepted for it.

Yuuri felt the tears loom close to falling, swallowed them a little, and then gave in and wept with joy.

“Crybaby,” Yurio said without heat. Viktor gave them both a small, proud nudge. Yuuri laughed, the sound wet and unforgettable.

For a moment, the Digital World was forgotten, and he could remember just what he and Viktor had accomplished that night. His heart swelled with pride, and yet he was also, somehow, very tired.

But he threw it aside as Takeshi swung an arm over his shoulder and grinned. “Look at the champ.”

Yuuri managed a sheepish laugh, and let himself be drawn in.

← previous - next →