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This was Victor’s first time arriving in Japan all alone. Last time he’d had Makkachin. He’d expected to come back with Yuuri. But he hadn’t, and it felt wrong somehow. He’d been in such a rush that he didn’t have any luggage, just a carry-on. He took a taxi straight to the veterinary clinic. He hadn’t been able to sleep on the plane. His normally shining silver hair was greasy, his usually bright blue eyes were heavy with bags under them, red from crying. His heart was pounding in his chest. He needed to see his dog. That was his priority.
“Mari,” he said as he entered the clinic and saw Yuuri’s older sister sitting on a bench, a worried expression on her face. She looked just as tired as he did.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, getting up and hugging him. He was crying again. He couldn’t help it. He was too tired and distraught to care who saw anymorea.
“Is he…?” Victor didn’t know what to say, how to ask.
“They were able to remove the steam bun from his throat,” Mari said, “But there were some complications. For a while, they didn’t know if he would make it, and it’s still kind of touchy, but they’re optimistic.”
Victor sighed, running his hand through his hair, feeling like he just wanted to slump onto the floor in exhaustion and relief. It wasn’t over. He hadn’t been too late to say goodbye, if he had to. Yuuri had been so adamant that he be able to say goodbye. He’d regretted not being able to say goodbye to his own dog. “That’s the best we can ask for right now, right?”
Mari nodded, “They told me I could take you back when you got here, so you could see him.”
She took him through the door you would usually only see the vet go, down a long hallway that smelled like antiseptic. He could hear dogs barking and whining, and it made his heart ache. She took him into another room with cages and machines and tubes and wires and there was Makkachin, laying in a cage of his own, hooked up to a machine, sleeping, likely drugged up. Victor poked his fingers through the cage to pet Makkachin’s soft brown fur, the dog’s chest barely rising and falling as he slept. The tears came again. “I’m sorry, Makkachin,” he said. “I love you so much. I’m here for you.” The dog let out the tiniest of sighs and Victor smiled through his tears.
The vet came by greeted Victor, updating him on Makkachin’s status. “I have high hopes that your Makkachin will pull through,” the vet told him, smiling and bowing. “We will need to keep him here until he is out of the woods and can eat on his own again, then he will have a long recovery needing frequent checkups.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” Victor said, wiping at his eyes.
“I know you will,” the vet said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I can tell you love him very much.”
They left the vet with orders to call if anything, no matter how small happened or changed. And the vet told Victor he could call and check in with the on call staff at any time outside of regular hours. It wasn’t a far walk from the vet’s office to the onsen, and Mari and Victor walked in silence. Victor knew he should say something to make her feel better. He knew she felt guilty and he knew it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Makkachin just really loved steam buns. Usually Victor was there to tear them into small pieces and feed them to the dog by hand. If it was anyone’s fault, it was Victor himself’s fault. He shouldn’t have left the dog behind. He shouldn’t have left the burden of care to others.
He wanted to tell all of this to Mari, but he couldn’t speak. His throat was raw, his chest hurt, and he wanted to stay at the vet’s office more than anything, to climb into that cage with Makkachin, even if he knew he didn’t fit, even if he knew it was stupid. He just wanted to feel that dog’s warm body pressed up against his, feel him breathe, to just be able to cry into his soft fur one more time. Makkachin was the best in the world to have nearby when you were sad and lonely. Victor had curled up with him on many nights and just cried. The dog would lick away his tears and no matter what, he always felt better.
Back at the onsen, Victor soaked in the hot springs until he felt like his skin might just dissolve away into the water. He toweled off and Yuuri’s mom gave him an extra large bowl of katsudon. He hadn’t been hungry, his stomach all tied into knots, but at the smell of the delicious dish, he knew he had to eat every bite of it. He didn’t quite know the last time he’d eaten, and he was suddenly ravenous. Yuuri’s mom had obviously made the meal with all the love she could pour into it, and he was grateful for that.
He called Yuuri. “Victor, how are things going?” His student asked. Victor could hear the worry in his voice.
Victor pulled his bathrobe tighter and tried not to cry again, “As well as could be expected,” Victor said. “No guarantees yet, but the vet is optimistic.” His voice cracked at the end, but he was able to hold it together.
“That’s good to hear,” Yuuri said, and Victor warmed at his voice, the way it seemed to smile at him through the phone. “We might not be a big city, but that vet clinic was always there for us, even with Vicchan accidentally got into my stash of chocolate pocky and poisoned himself. They’re really great.”
“They seem so,” Victor said, thinking of the dog Yuuri used to have, the one with the little altar in one of the side rooms, a collar with tags sitting next to a picture of child Yuuri and a little brown poodle. It was sweet.
“Yuuri,” Victor said.
“Yeah?”
“Whatever happens with me and Makkachin, don’t let it affect your performance tonight.”
“Don’t worry,” he said with a nervous laugh, “Yakov is doing a great job with me, it’s like you never left.”
It took Victor a minute to realize that Yuuri had been joking. “I’m serious, Yuuri. You need to focus. Didn’t you tell me the reason you did poorly when you were in the Grand Prix Finals was because Vicchan died and you were binge eating?”
He heard Yuuri sigh, “Yeah, I mean, that’s the excuse I use, and I think it did contribute to it. I was pretty depressed and it was hard to focus.”
“Well, don’t let that happen, okay? I’m rooting for you from here, your friends and family too. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself either. Just go out there and skate your best. I believe in you, and I’ll be proud of you no matter what.”
“Thanks, Victor. I’ll make you and everyone else proud.”
Victor wanted to say more. He wanted to tell Yuuri how much he loved and missed him, how much he wished the younger man was there with him, or how much he wished he would have never left. But he knew he shouldn’t say those things to Yuuri, not right before a competition. It would distract him. Make him feel bad. That wouldn’t help anything. He felt so helpless, so useless sitting at the onsen, sitting in his room staring at his phone. But he couldn’t stay at the vet’s office, and he couldn’t do anything else. Well, there was one place he could go.
Victor walked into the Ice Castle, skates in hand, and gave Yuuko a hesitant smile.
“Victor!” She said, scrambling over the counter and giving him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her, grateful for the warmth, the physical contact with a human being. “I’m so sorry about Makkachin,” she said, and when they broke the hug, her eyes glittered with tears.
“It’ll be okay,” he said, not quite feeling up to giving her a reassuring smile. “I just need to skate for a little bit. Is it okay?”
“Of course!” She said, her voice enthusiastic. “You’re always welcome. Anytime. But you look exhausted.”
“And I am, but there’s nothing I can do about that.” He was afraid to sleep. Afraid that if he fell asleep, Makkachin might not make it, he might not hear his phone ringing, he might miss the opportunity to say goodbye.
Victor nodded and went into the locker room, lacing up his skates. Then he went to the rink. It was empty, which was pretty normal for this place. They rarely seemed to get much business, which made it a nice practice spot for Yuuri most of the time. Once again, Victor’s heart ached for Yuuri to be there with him. The man always knew what to say, what to do to make Victor feel loved, to make him feel grounded.
He slid onto the ice and began to skate, not to any specific choreography or music inside his head. He was just skating to skate, to feel something, anything, and nothing at all. He wanted to make himself so tired that he wouldn’t be able to think straight, so tired that he wouldn’t be able to worry. About Makkachin. About Yuuri. About his future. None of it would bubble up to the front of his mind if he just kept skating.
He knew Yuuko and the triplets were watching, but for once, none of them pulled out their phones to record, none of them said a word. They just stared as he spun around the ice, jumping and spinning and sometimes falling as the fatigue took its toll on his body. When he finally left the ice, he was sweating and panting and Yuuko was there to help him to a seat so he could take off his skates. One of the triplets, maybe Lutz, he could never tell them apart, brought him hot tea and he accepted it gratefully.
He checked his phone, but there was no update from the vet. He called them and they said they didn’t have any updates yet. He was out of tea and his entire body felt frozen. After he’d mustered the strength to move again, Victor walked back to the onsen and took his second bath of the day, but even the hot spring couldn’t warm him all the way through.
Victor made the mistake of scrolling through his instagram photos. Most of his photos were either of him skating or him with Makkachin. And the further he went back, the worse it got. He found Makkachin’s puppy photos and curled into a sobbing ball on the tatami mats, using his bathrobe to absorb his tears.
“Would it help if you prayed?” Mari asked.
Victor looked up at her from the floor, “Prayed?” He choked out.
“You could pay your respects to Vicchan,” she said.
He thought about it as he wiped away his tears. He nodded when he could form whole sentences again, “That’s a good idea, actually,” he said, getting himself together so he climb to his feet and go into the other room. He lit the incense and kneeled before the altar like he’d seen Yuuri do countless times. Clasping his hands together, he prayed. He prayed for Makkachin, he prayed for Yuuri, and even prayed for Vicchan, the dog named after him that he never got to meet. He was sure Vicchan and Makkachin would have gotten along quite well together, probably causing all sorts of mischief.
When he was finished, he called Yuuri again. “No news yet,” Victor told him. “How are you coming along?”
“I feel okay, actually,” Yuuri said. “But Yakov doesn’t think I should do the quadruple flip at the end.”
Victor laughed, “Well, remember, I never listened to Yakov very much when he was coaching me. So he doesn’t expect his skaters to listen to everything he says.”
“He’s a good coach, but I think I know who I like better,” Yuuri laughed. “I’m going to be fine, though. You’ve given me so much confidence, Victor. Even if you’re not here, I know I can do it.”
“Of course you can. You’ve always had it in you. You just lacked the confidence to believe in yourself. But that’s okay, because you have me now. And I’ll always believe in you. And I’ll stay by your side, no matter what. I love you, Yuuri.”
He heard Yuuri’s sharp intake of breath and he smiled. Then, there was a lengthy pause that made Victor’s brow sweat. Was Yuuri not going to respond to his declaration of love? “Yuuri?” He asked.
“Yes, I’m here, I just…do you mean it?”
“That I love you? Of course,” he said.
“I love you too, Victor,” he said, and Victor could practically feel Yuuri blushing through the phone.
“Make me proud,” Victor said, wiping at his eyes.
“I will. No matter what, make sure you don’t take your eyes off me.”
Yuuri made him so proud. Victor laid in bed sleepily as he watched Yuuri skate his free program more beautifully than he’d ever skated it before. Even though he was exhausted, even though he hadn’t slept in nearly two days, he watched, keeping his promise, his eyes shining as Yuuri skated. His jumps weren’t perfect, they never were, but that didn’t matter, because he was one with the music, so in sync with it that it was hard to tell if Yuuri was skating to the music or if the music was playing to his skating. He even landed the quad flip at the end, flashing a wide grin to a red-faced Yakov. Yeah, the landing wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t fall this time. At the end, Yuuri looked straight into the cameras and Victor felt like he was looking straight into his soul, pouring all his love into that smile.
Yuuri pulled off another second place win, grabbing the silver over Yurio, who pulled off a bronze. That JJ was a force to be reckoned with, nabbing the gold. It was enough, though, for Yuuri to make it to the finals, and that filled Victor’s heart with happiness. His little piggy was going to become a prince, after all. And no matter what Victor was going to be there for him.
Yuuri called Victor this time, his happy tone of voice infectious, waking Victor from his tired stupor, energizing him. “I’m so proud of you, my love. I couldn’t have taken my eyes off of you even if I’d wanted to,” Victor said, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in what felt like forever, but was more like twenty four hours. “Another personal best.”
“And I landed my quad flip!”
“Yes, and the quad flip,” he laughed. Yuuri was always so eager to please him.
“When’s the last time you slept?” Yuuri asked. When Victor didn’t respond, Yuuri said, “Please get some sleep. They’ll call you and Mari if anything happens.”
“I know,” Victor said, but he still didn’t want to. “I’ll try.”
“Goodnight,” Yuuri said, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Victor said, the words weaving their way through his heart, warming it, making it feel whole again. It’d felt so cold and dead just a few moments before. He was so tired.
Victor rolled over on his bed and tried to sleep, but everything felt wrong. He was used to sleeping with Makkachin, and when they were on the road, he’d slept with Yuuri, even when the younger man objected, blushing crimson every time. He blushed so easily. He would always end up cuddling with Yuuri by the end of things, and Yuuri hadn’t once actually complained about it.
But he didn’t have anyone that night. No Makkachin, no Yuuri. Nothing warm to make his bed feel less empty. Even the sheets just smelled like detergent. There was no dog smell, no Yuuri smell. Just soap.
He got out of bed and padded down to Yuuri’s room. He went inside and laid down on Yuuri’s bed, breathing in as deeply as he could. The bed smelled like Yuuri, like his shampoo and katsudon and even his sweat, all familiar odors that were ingrained into his pillow, blankets, and mattress. Things that would never go away. He wrapped his arms and legs around a pillow and breathed in the familiar scents, finally able to doze off into a fitful sleep.
Victor awoke to a noise. It was a bark, he was sure of it. The room was dark. It was still night. He was groggy and disoriented and still exhausted and his heart was racing as he heard another bark. Startled, he fell out of bed and realized where he was. Yuuri’s bedroom. He opened the door and sitting in the hallway, tail wagging, panting as it looked up at him, was a brown poodle.
“Makkachin?” Victor asked, his heart racing as the poodle jumped onto his chest, pushing him onto his back, and showered him with sloppy kisses. No, he thought, this dog is too small to be Makkachin. He pulled at the collar and let go of the tag as soon as he read it, like it was going to burn him if he held on any longer. The tag read, “Victor.”
Victor rolled, the dog jumping off of him, sitting on the floor and panting. Was this? How? How could this be Vicchan? It was impossible, right? But what were the odds that some random stranger coming to visit this onsen happened to have a brown poodle named Victor? He was too confused, worried, and tired to care where this dog had come from.
The poodle nudged Victor’s hand and he petted it, the fur soft and fluffy, cotton. The dog looked into his eyes like it was trying to reassure him that everything was going to be fine. Then, it jumped onto the bed, waiting for Victor to climb back in. The dog laid down just like Makkachin liked to do, and Victor wrapped his arms around the fluffy dog, feeling its warmth, breathing in that scent of dog, feeling its chest rise and fall in a steady, even pace. His eyes were full of tears as he was finally able to fall into a deep sleep.
The next time Victor woke, there was a soft voice in his ear, “Victor.” He opened his eyes and found himself looking into Yuuri’s wide, brown eyes framed with his glasses. How could that be? Yuuri was in Russia and Victor was in Japan.
Victor let go of the body-sized pillow he’d been wrapped around. His eyes were crusty and he wiped at them, yawning. It was daylight outside, and he didn’t know what time it was, but it felt like he’d slept a long time. He reached for his phone and found several missed calls from the vet.
“Oh no, oh fuck,” he said, sitting up, panicking, looking for his pants frantically and realizing he’d left everything in the other room. He was still in Yuuri’s room.
Yuuri pushed him down onto the bed and said, “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay,” Victor protested, “These calls, I got all these calls this morning, and I guess I didn’t hear my phone ring.”
‘It’s okay,” Yuuri repeated, not seeming to grasp what Victor was trying to say. The urgency of the situation.
“No, I need to call the vet,” Victor said. “Or maybe I’ll just run straight there.”
“It’s okay,” Yuuri stressed, and Victor stopped to look at him.
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“I already talked to my sister, she says the vet called her when they couldn’t reach you. Makkachin made it through the night just fine and they have full expectations that he’ll recover!” Yuuri beamed at him as he took a moment to process the words. It felt like he could breathe again.
Then, he remembered the dog that had come to him in the night. He looked around, but all he could find was the body pillow he’d been wrapped around. When had the dog left?
“What are you looking for?” Yuuri asked.
“Victor,” he responded, sighing as he ran his hand through his hair.
Yuuri gave him a puzzled look. “You’re looking for yourself?”
“No,” Victor said. “A dog came to me last night, slept in the bed with me. Its name was Victor.”
“That’s strange,” Yuuri said, suddenly more quiet than usual.
“He looked just like Makkachin, only a little smaller. He climbed into my bed and I cuddled with him, just like I usually do with Makkachin. What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Yuuri’s gaze had gone distant, like he had something he wanted to tell Victor, but didn’t quite know how to say it.
“Sometimes I feel like Vicchan’s soul is still here at the onsen,” Yuuri said, a sad smile on his face. “Sometimes I still hear him barking down the halls. But he’s gone now. Unless you believe it was his ghost.”
“His ghost?” Victor asked. No, it couldn’t have been a ghost. The dog had been too solid, too soft, too warm. He told all of this to Yuuri, who just shook his head.
“You can believe whatever you’d like. Maybe you hallucinated him. Maybe you were so tired that it was all just a dream. Maybe it was Vicchan’s ghost trying to help you feel better. Whatever it was, it helped you, didn’t it?”
Victor thought about way he needed to be up against something or someone warm in order to get a full night’s sleep. How Vicchan had been just that, this protective, calming, fuzzy presence, there to help him feel better, breathe easier and most importantly, to get some sleep. Had his mind conjured that up for him, or had his prayer summoned the spirit of Yuuri’s old dog? He realized he didn’t care either way.
It was Yuuri’s turn to look exhausted. His pale skin was dark under his eyes, and he looked like he hadn’t even showered after his free skate, just leaving as soon as the medal ceremony was over. He was sure that if Yakov hadn’t been there, Yuuri would have left as soon as he finished his performance, not even waiting for the medal ceremony.
Victor stood and hugged Yuuri, realizing he’d been sleeping completely naked in Yuuri’s bed, the bathrobe discarded on the floor sometime in the night. He didn’t think Yuuri minded too much, though. Yuuri kissed him, tenderly, like he might break if he kissed him too hard, and Victor was grateful for it, because he felt like he was made of glass and he might shatter at any moment. After a couple minutes, Victor pulled on his robe and went to his room to get dressed. They walked to the vet together, holding hands.
When they arrived at the vet office, the assistant showed them back to where he’d seen Makkachin before. The dog was awake and gave a happy bark when Victor walked in. His eyes filled with tears and he couldn’t stop grinning as he saw his dog wag his tail, happy to see his owner. Makkachin wasn’t hooked up to any machines anymore, and the vet told him that Makkachin was making a splendid recovery. He was still healing, of course, but things were going better than expected. The vet opened the door and Victor had to force Makkachin not to leap out of the cage as the dog licked him all over the face and he buried himself in the soft fur, reminding him of the previous evening’s encounter with what? A ghost dog? A dream dog? It didn’t matter.
He let himself cry and Makkachin licked away his tears. He noticed Yuuri was crying too, smiling up at him, and he felt so grateful for the man he loved, the man who hadn’t slept at all that night, who had immediately flown from Russia just to be with him when he woke up. The man who believed in him, who cared about him, who didn’t want him to be anything else than who he was, the man who loved him unconditionally. Yuuri’s confidence had grown since Victor’s first visit to Japan, and he could see that in the younger man’s eyes, could feel it in his touch, in the way he kissed him and Makkachin barked happily and licked both their faces. Yuuri was his and Makkachin was going to be okay and he was there, being kissed by the two people in the world that meant the most to him.
Everything was going to be just fine.