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It's cold, and Yuki has to pee.
He would be fine if not for the half hour student council meeting. Usually, he can beat his shy bladder by holding it throughout the day and drinking little, but that's been a problem lately with Tohru. As health conscious as she is, she doesn't let him get by with only a few sips of water. She makes him drink at least a whole bottle. Her rigorous hydration, combined with that extra thirty minutes of trying not to squirm and hardly paying attention to anything, is enough to put him on the edge. His need was bad enough earlier that he tried to go before he left, but the bathrooms were locked. Just his luck they'd locked up early.
That's how he ends up shuffling around as he pulls on the large coat that goes down to his knees, his bladder protesting at putting more layers on when he really needs to take some off. He groans softly and fumbles with the ridiculous number of clasps on his coat. The bottommost ones are the toughest; he has to bend over and compress his bladder.
An urgent pang of need ripples through him, so he abruptly straightens up and lets out a shaky breath. The last three clasps dangle undone.
"Are you okay?" one of the girls asks, the only one still here, except he didn't realize people were still here and watching him hop from foot to foot.
"Oh," Yuki breathes, heat rushing into his face. "Oh, yes, thanks," he recovers. "I'm fine."
The girl looks him over, obviously concerned. Everyone knows that he has rocky health. He shifts his weight anxiously, and her face lights with understanding. He blushes. She smiles, but instead of teasing him, asks simply, "Do you want some help?"
Yuki nods gratefully. "Thank you," he says, and is even more thankful she doesn't tell him to stop moving when she closes his coat.
"Better get on your way then."
He's too embarrassed to do more than nod and walk away. His coat keeps him fairly warm, but the cold wind surrounds his face and neck, and it doesn't help at all.
His bladder is dangerously full. Yuki takes very small steps, nearly half what he usually can. One wrong move will mean disaster. Sure, his coat will hide nearly all the damage if he completely wets himself, but he can't hide from Tohru and Kyo and Shigure. He would never live it down.
The time to think on the walk home just lets him remember that he hasn't gone to the bathroom since this morning. A balloon stretched full liquid sits on his abdomen, wavering under the pressure of the heavy coat. If he takes it off and starts shivering, the sheer temperature will coax the warm liquid out.
His posture is slightly hunched. If anyone else were around they might assume he were sick. The shallow breaths hanging in the air before his lips and even sweat on his forehead certainly make it seem so.
The journey isn't that long, but his pace is slow, and his steps are tiny. His desperate state is doubling the time it takes to get there.
About halfway through, he pauses, crosses one leg over another, takes a huge breath. He's getting to the point where he needs to stop moving and stay absolutely still. Instead of keeping the flood inside, moving will jostle his bladder and spill everything inside him. But if he just stands here....
The breath comes out shakily. He uncrosses his legs and keeps walking.
He tries to create grocery lists for when he and Tohru go shopping later in the week, anything to keep him from thinking about how badly he needs to go. Of course, though, he begins to think about walking through aisles past drinks, liquids, so much liquid, has to go so badly.
"Ten more minutes," he breathes to himself in encouragement. He feels like he might leak and his his bladder nearly hurts, but he can make it. He can make it.
Then he coughs.
It's at the most inopportune moment, when he's stepping and his legs are barely a foot apart. The cough rattles in his chest, makes his stomach tense. And it roughly squeezes his bladder. Urine spurts into his underwear so suddenly that Yuki gasps, hands immediately moving to grab at himself, rather ineffectually, through three layers of clothing.
His face is red. He never, ever, holds himself in public. But the sheer panic leaves him standing with two hands pressed into his groin as the one-second stream turns to two, then three, then blessedly tapers off.
His underwear is good and soaked now.
Another cough tickles his throat with the next breath, but he swallows it back. His muscles can't stand to be shaken again.
Slowly, when he's sure he's not going to wet himself, Yuki releases the small pressure of his hands and continues to walk. He's nearing the forest, so there's no one around to witness his frightening loss of control; anyway, the coat would hide whatever damp patches might be there. There is still a flush of humiliation on his face.
He's in the trees, now, less than five minutes to go, but he's losing the battle. He concentrates solely on clenching his muscles and placing one foot after the other. At one point, a particularly strong spasm of need washes over him, and he stops to lean against a tree, quietly whimpering. His body threatens to spill the ocean inside of him if he takes another step. Hold it. Hold it.
One hand moves down, resting on the clasp nearest to his waist but not putting pressure on his bladder. Trees surround him. He could go here. He could fumble with his coat, unzip, and-
He can't. It's so tempting, but he can't. Joggers and hikers pass through here often; he'd just die of embarrassment of someone caught him pissing full-force on a tree.
He decides he can wait until he gets to the house.
Which is his second mistake. His first, he realizes, after finally making it into the warmth of the house and moving to grab at his zip, is that he let that girl completely close his coat.
He has seven clasps to undo and a button and zipper and dribble of liquid is already running down his leg.
Yuki nearly cries out in frustration.
"Yuki, just in time! I just finished the—oh, what's the matter?"
He doesn't mean to ignore Tohru, his mind is just so full of desperation, he's so full, all he can hear is the frantic mantra of hold it hold it hold it while his fingers tremble without guidance.
"Yuki? Are you okay?"
One of them is undone. It's taking too long. He can't. He can't hold it. Hold it hold it hold it-
"Yuki!"
Tohru is beside him quite suddenly, gently clutching his wrists and stilling his hands. "Yuki—what's the matter?"
He lets out a spectacularly embarrassing combination of a groan and whine, rocking in place with his knees turned into each other. Tohru is stopping him from undoing his coat. No... Hold it... "I have to go..." he groans softly. He can't even think straight anymore.
"Go? Go where?" Tohru blinks at him before her face morphs into realization. "Oh. Oh. I'll help you."
Her hands are much quicker than his, and she has three, four, five clasps undone in five seconds, but he hasn't stopped leaking. Some breathy thing sounding like "hurry" comes out of his mouth. More liquid rolling down his legs. Even as he shrugs off the top of the coat he realizes that he can't hold it long enough to get to the bathroom and unzip, and his pants are practically soaked anyway.
"Miss Honda," he says shakily and tries to pull away in the hopes of salvaging any dignity he has left, "P-Please—"
"Last one," Tohru reassures him, on her knees. "Just hold on for another moment."
Then everything happens at once. His bladder abruptly gives out as Tohru declares "Done!", the stream bursting straight from the fabric like a waterfall and, to his absolute horror, all over Tohru's hands.
They both gasp for different reasons while Yuki staggers backward. The initial release makes his knees go weak, and he ends up falling backwards on his butt, right onto his coat. His stupid coat.
Then he can do nothing but sit, trembling in relief and mortification as his bladder empties itself all over the thick material.
His face is an odd mixture of relaxed and mortified. Little breaths escape from his mouth. Warmth pools around his bottom; he's shivering with the feeling of release when he notices Tohru staring at him in shock. His face feels like it's on fire.
To top it all off, he hears footsteps coming from the hall, and Kyou is suddenly in the room.
"What the hell?" the orange haired teen demands, sounding more confused than angry like he usually is.
"Kyou, don't make all that noise, I'm trying to concentrate."
Yuki shuts his eyes just before Shigure enters the room. "Is Yuki home yet? I'm ready for some of Tohru's cook—" a pause. "—ing. Oh, dear."
Yuki wants to run as far as he can from this house, curl up, and then die. He should have gone in the woods. He should have gone earlier. He should have rushed past Tohru and wet himself in the bathroom instead, where no one could see. This is just... this is humiliating, and he would have preferred any other outcome than sitting in the middle of the room and peeing uncontrollably all over his coat. Anything but this.
It's too overwhelming. When he's finally empty about two minutes later, his body gives a final shiver, and it transforms.
"Oh dear," Shigure says again.
"Jeez," Kyou huffs and Tohru makes a started noise.
"Oh no! Yuki! Are you okay? Are you sick?"
"He's fine; he just pissed himself is all."
"But... He transformed."
"That's cause he's a wimp when it comes to his bladder."
"Now, Kyou, don't tease Yuki about that," Shigure says in a more serious and scolding tone. Yuki still has his eyes shut, so he can't see what's going on, but he can hear them bicker.
Unfortunately, this transformation doesn't seem to be a long one, because as it occurs to him simply leave, he returns to his human state.
A few drops of urine still run down his legs.
"Waah!" Tohru yelps, covering her eyes and turning around. He usually thinks it's funny she hasn't gotten used to it, but all he feels is shame.
He scoops up the clothes on the floor, furiously blinking back the tears swimming in his eyes when he feels how saturated the coat is with urine. It drips into the small puddle on the floor.
Shigure and Kyou are both staring at him, the latter's smirk fading as he sees Yuki's devastated expression.
"Excuse me," he says in an even whisper. He doesn't want to put wet, smelly clothes back on, so he swiftly leaves the room. Naked.
Somehow, that makes it even worse. A few tears slip down his cheeks and he quickly brushes them away in anger.
Don't be so pathetic.
It takes him very little time to clean up. After lingering in the bathroom for several minutes, he ventures for the door handle, wearing only a towel around his waist.
A bundle of clothes sits on the floor outside the bathroom, folded neatly. Probably Tohru. No one else can fold like that. He dresses slowly, but he can't stay in the bathroom forever.
When he comes out, putting his dirty things in the laundry, his next stop is the kitchen to clean up his mess.
Instead, what he finds is a clean floor and Tohru vigorously scrubbing her hands at the sink. The picture is accompanied by a fresh wave of shame and a desire to curl up and die.
"Oh, Yuki!" Tohru says in a concerned tone, noticing him quickly. "I cleaned the floor. It's alright; there wasn't much to clean. The coat, err, soaked it up. Anyway, it's my job to clean! I didn't mind!" And she continues to babble, shutting off the sink and drying her hands. She seems to be very purposefully not looking at him.
Yuki squeezes his eyes shut and every apology under the sun falls out of his mouth. "Miss Honda, I can't even begin to—I'm so sorry—the bathrooms were locked up after school. I tried to get home, but the coat—y-you—I tried to move away, but I couldn't; I couldn't hold it anymore—"
Tohru cuts him off with a loud "Oh!", and he feels a hand on his arm. Hesitantly, he blinks his eyes open, to a worried expression. Not disgusted. "It's okay," she says with a reassuring certainty, even though it doesn't feel okay. "I mean, I didn't know you had to go that badly! Like Mom used to say, 'if you gotta go, you gotta go', right?" She breaks out into a bright smile.
Yuki flushes. "I..."
"It's really no big deal. You're okay, right? But you shouldn't hold it that long," she begins to fuss him, it really isn't healthy!"
Yuki nods absently, too preoccupied with the fact that Tohru is concerned instead of angry that he peed all over her hands. She has to be some kind of saint. Bless the heavens for Tohru Honda.
"Anyway," she waves a hand and raises her voice, "who's hungry?"
"Ooh, me!" An over-enthusiastic Shigure shouts from the sitting room. "Me!"
Tohru giggles, gives him a smile, and Yuki sighs in relief.