Date: 02/27/2013 — Time: 11:41
It was nothing.
Yuuri knew that Loop, Axel, and Lutz having one digimon egg was not the end of the world. It was apparently becoming more and more common (Did his friends know? Had he somehow missed that?) to have digimon at all. It didn’t mean they had some great destiny or duty to fulfill. The world was naturally changing to accommodate… monsters, and it was just easier to give them to kids.
Of course, there was no way now that they were wide awake and it had all sunk in that his friends were able to deal with that. So he had to hurry back and support them, as they had always done for him.
The main issue now was these fifteen hour flights with stops and transfers and… flying to St. Petersburg had honestly been easier.
And Viktor had managed to get the DigiEgg through customs while Yuuri was getting his shoes back on. He really wanted to know that marvel. He’d have to ask later.
Honestly, the most surprising thing was that Yurio was a few seats away, grumbling something unintelligible and clutching his yellow and orange egg with annoyance. He didn’t look at either of them as they approached the gate terminal. He was deliberately wearing sunglasses indoors. Yurio could be so weird sometimes.
Viktor of course thought little of it. “Yuri!” He beamed with joy, Makkachin barked inside the carrier, his very quiet sound of course. “What are you doing here? I thought you would be on the rink by now?”
Yurio grunted. Yuuri agreed with him. He couldn’t wait to go home, carve his worries into the ice before the zamboni washed it away, and then sit in the hot springs and breathe.
The digiegg would do some good in the water anyway. Takeshi had found that with a Primary Village baby once and then had them all hatch and use his leg as a cradle.
“Yakov said until I get this egg dealt with I’m not allowed to practice.” He was only not spitting because they were in public, Yuuri was sure of it. He winced on the younger skater’s behalf, at least up until Yurio’s scowling face was more directed towards him. “You’d better help me, piggy.”
“Of course I will.” It was hard to feel offended at Yurio nowadays. He was just an angry kid and being an angry kid was better than being a sad one. ‘It’s not too hard. They age pretty quickly and can look after themselves, once they get past the potty-training phase.’ Yurio blanched so hard it looked like it extended his cheekbones and Yuuri managed to smile. “It’s not so bad. They grow out of it when they’re raised in a house. Just don’t leave them outside, whoever they are. They aren’t like outdoor cats or dogs, they need your specific company.”
“Sounds cheesy,” Yurio grumbled, but he didn’t say he would leave them out. That felt like progress to Yuuri.
“It is,” Yuuri agreed, answering a picture from Phichit. He was now at rest, photoshopping his hamsters to imagine what they’d do to the egg. Aside from run away from it, he had no idea. Maybe they’d use the shell to chew on for teething’s sake. “They tend to run on human emotion and food, it can become rather cheesy.”
“Perfect for you then.”
Yuuri didn’t know quite what to think of that. He and Viktor had kissed on international television.
The flight was long and boring and not even first class seats could change that. Normally, Yuuri just took economy and called it a day of a long time flight in seats too small for a child, never mind most passengers. But with Makkachin and the egg, it was better to be safe and sorry and not change them. So he settled in the plush chairs and tried to sleep as the plane took off and Viktor’s air sickness settled. (It was still the most adorable, disgusting thing he had ever learned about his idol. He regretted knowing it so well.)
Eventually, however, he did sleep. When he awoke it was dark all around. The attendants were gliding past, smiling wearily and chatting beyond earshot. They likely hadn’t slept much the night before, the few he had spoken to never had for the first few years. There was a little box next to the toiletries, likely a small bit of food if he woke up and got hungry. Yurio, a couple rows down on his right, was out cold. One of the passing attendants managed to giggle quietly as his expense. It was probably because of the drool and not the fact he was a famous skater.
Viktor too, was asleep, peacefully so. He cradled the egg the way you would a small sleeping child. It made something in Yuuri’s heart quiver with warmth.
His eyes swept the spot where his feet would be and he saw something by Makkachin’s container. At first he closed his eyes in dismissal. It was probably his bag. Except, as the details caught up to his not-passive brain, Yuuri remembered he carried nothing purple.
He opened his eyes again.
Makkachin’s tail was probably wagging, if the nearly silent thumps of the crate were anything to go by. His beady black eyes were fixed on the source of his new-found contentment. It was probably someone’s kid, sneaking into another part of the airport they weren’t supposed to be in.
What a cute dog, he heard, soft and sad. I wonder if I had a dog before. Do you think I did Katsuki-san?
Definitely not a dog. Yuuri felt the familiar nausea, the pity, the sadness. Homeostasis looked at him, knowingly, still petting Makkachin.
You can just think whatever you want to, she said, messy purple hair and bloody, bitten nails clear in the semi-darkness. I’ll hear it as long as I’m here.
What are you doing here? Exploded into Yuuri’s thoughts when he had them. You-You’re not supposed to be here!
The balance isn’t back to normal yet, replied Homeostasis, looking still at Makkachin. When your partners come back, the elements will return, and it’ll all go back to normal. Your normal.
He heard the bitterness, felt it on his tongue.
So for now, she continued. I’m here and I wanted to ask something of you. You can always refuse it, because it doesn’t affect the balance and because you don’t want to.
Yuuri bit on his own tongue to keep from answering out loud, at screaming and swearing at the entity that had destroyed a part of his life that was daring to ask him for favors. It was different now. Back then it had been easy to feel righteous, feel proud and curious. The others had felt that way, and at the time he had been special, capable. If he had been able to tell Viktor the kind of person he was, one day, a hero, an inspiration just like him, it would have been worth it.
Now that he had told Viktor, been around and fallen for Viktor, Yuuri could look back and see how stupid it all was.
I know, Homeostasis said. Everyone believes I am unaware, or that I don’t care, but I do. That’s why I gave choices.
They were hardly choices!
They were more than I had.
And Yuuri paused, blinking away the pain because that wasn’t fair, it wasn’t true—
Except—
That’s what you want me to find out, isn’t it? He mused the thought. What happened to you?
Yes. Her tone didn’t change. There was some relief in it, some haunted curiosity. It won’t change anything, but… I would like to know, and Gennai— She paused and watched him wince. What’s left of him isn’t the same. He… He’s not well, Katsuki-san.
Yuuri was torn between caring and not. Not caring was safer, easier, better for the health. Homeostasis had stayed out of their way and watched, advised.
Gennai? Gennai had meddled. Gennai had advised, cajoled and warned, prophesied and mentored, all to fatten them up like lambs.
And if Hime-chan’s story was true, may have betrayed them all in the end.
But caring made him remember that he too, was a victim of something. And he couldn’t help but care, without that, he would be denying himself something great, himself. Or maybe he was just tired. Either way, he wanted to know. If something was wrong, they would feel it.
So he asked. And she answered.
Yggdrasil’s agent, who took advantage of him… well, they took their time taking him apart and putting him back together again. Her blank face did not change, uncomfortably frozen in that way people got when the line of endurance got crossed over and over again. He’s close to the end I think. So he won’t listen when I ask for help. I should do it myself, he says. But no one really likes that. They need a puppet god, not an active one.
What do you want?
There was a simple pause, like a period rather than actual thought. I just want this to be over. I want to know my name.
Viktor stirred and she vanished without fanfare barring a single whisper of please think it over. After you get your partner back.
Yuuri adjusted himself in his seat as Viktor rolled away from the seat. The egg was left in the blankets as he stretched, moving away on loosely clad feet towards the bathroom. The airplane rocked a little. As Viktor returned, the pilot spoke up softly. “Please fasten your seatbelts, we are about to enter some turbulence.
Well, Yuuri thought as Yurio shot up like a startled cat and nearly dropped his egg, and Makkachin whined from the floor. At least I have a distraction.
Yuuri expected no one to be at the airport when they disembarked, no one who knew them anyway. And yet, clear as day, there were three people sitting in the plush seats. Well, two people were sitting. One was on the floor, what looked like an oversized crayon in her small hands as she doodled. The other was a few years older than Yurio, swiping furiously on a tablet and adjusting her glasses with the other hand. The third was—
“Maki?”
Himekawa Maki glanced up from her phone. She gave a single, sharp nod and the faintest of smiles. The girl by her feet looked up, examining them all with thoughtful interest.
“Those are your skater friends, mom?” she said. Yuuri didn’t even have to look before he none too carefully stepped on Yurio’s foot to keep him from whatever he could do. It might be good but he couldn’t tell and he did not want to find out first hand if his former friend’s right hook was as dangerous as it had been in childhood. He was safely assuming it had only gotten worse.
“Well, one of them,” the woman said, rising to her feet. She inclined her head to Viktor and Yurio in turn, which was way more polite than Yuuri thought was even possible for her ever. “Himekawa Maki. Pleasure.” Her voice was not like Daigo’s rawness, nor was it like what had happened on the video call. It was duller now, with adulthood propriety mixed in it somewhere.
Or maybe Daigo had been wrong and she could sense him looking at her from behind. The man had never been subtle.
Yurio grunted. Viktor smiled and bowed a little too far before rising up with the same enthusiasm that belonged in a hot spring with a warm bowl of food, introducing them all. Makkachin boofed in his crate.
This got the girl’s attention. She looked up and put her crayon back into the box. Then she hopped up to her feet in one smooth motion and bounded over to them, focusing on the dog. Eventually, her slit eyes bored into Yurio’s blue glare. Then she pouted, hands on her hips before scurrying back behind Maki herself.
The girl in glasses giggled, putting the tablet back in her backpack. It was a soft little sound. Yuuri rather liked it. “What a strange reaction.”
“She’s not used to that much ferocity in someone that isn’t her,” Maki replied. “This is Mochizuki Meiko, a close cousin of mine. And Makiko is currently using me as a meat shield.”
“A very strong meat shield!” the girl declared, looking put out still.
Yuuko and Takeshi called me this morning, informing me I needed to get you all and get down to Hasetsu immediately. “Yuuri watched Maki’s lips twitch.” Are they grounding me again?”
“An egg appeared for their kids,” Yuuri replied.
Maki had the courtesy to wince as Meiko’s eyes went wide. “One egg for multiple.” Maki gestured for them to walk. “Then we should get over there before I really am grounded.”
Yurio let out a snort but it was weak. Yuuko had a temper worth fearing.
As they walked, Viktor made every effort he could to engage the child trailing after her mother, egg neatly settled inside a spare duffel bag. Makiko was reluctant at first, which was fair because Viktor was the tallest one there, but like always he soon had her cautiously describing the last game of soccer she played. Viktor nodded eagerly, asking questions (because he did not know soccer. It was a miracle he knew baseball.)
Yurio stood as far apart from them as possible. It was a little adorable, if Yuuri was being honest. The egg wiggling in his poor grip. Yuuri almost turned to grab it but Meiko did it instead, gently taking Yurio’s arms and adjusting them.
“You don’t want to hurt yourself carrying it,” she said in this matter-of-fact voice that made Yuuri muffle a snort. Yurio stared at her a moment. Meiko stared back, unperturbed. They engaged in a staring contest until they had to turn the corner, until at which point they had to separate to reach the parking lot.
“I wanted to take the train,” Maki said in that familiar voice that was layered with dry irritation, the one she often used when Daigo made a decision that was going to get someone humiliated, or Yuuko tried to pin up her hair, or a whole host of things that were flooding back and making his heart war with nostalgia and annoyance. “But the others would have gotten us into trouble. If yours hatched while we were there, we wouldn’t be prepared to clean up the mess.”
“Yours” He echoed. “Maki, I…” He paused, fingers caught between curling and uncurling and the hand that was not on Makkachin’s (unnecessary, Makkachin was a good boy) leash curled around his and Yuuri took in a deeper breath that he needed so much, more than anything.
Yurio’s eyes were steady on him. Challenging probably, sympathetic maybe. But understanding, much more understanding lately. He was growing up maybe. Yuuri couldn’t say.
What he could say, what he could make himself say was: “Maki, I… I don’t have Hawkmon. He’s not here.”
She paused. It was so brief, a mere delay in a clacking heel. But the admission made Meiko look at him with new, wide eyes, and Maki’s expression shutter closed like a misplaced window. “I see.” Another pause as she passed a pillar to another car, a minivan even.
Yuuri did not want to know how much it cost. Maybe it was a government vehicle. People in security had nodded at her as she passed, each in suits and barely checking their identification. So if it was theirs then…
“This will draw less attention,” she said instead of asking why, a question none of them had an answer to. Instead of continuing on a subject he realized neither of them wanted to.
He was never so grateful to her as in that moment.