I'm emo and awful. I love Makkachin so much. I'm really sorry.

I usually HC Makka as a boy, but in this one, I made her a girl.

"Come now, milaya, you have to eat a little. Please? For me?" Victor tried to direct Makkachin's attention to the food dish, but she hardly seemed interested. Aside from a few sniffs, the poodle ignored the meal altogether in favor of curling up in her bed.

Weaving his fingers through her graying fur, Victor scratched behind her ears, hoping to give her some motivation.

"How about some water, then?" he encouraged softly, nudging the bowl towards her.

Makkachin stared at the offering for a moment, but then turned her head away and closed her eyes.

Rising to his feet, Victor sniffled, fighting to swallow the growing lump in his throat. Over the past two months, Makkachin's health had taken a sharp decline. She scarcely ate or drank anymore, and it showed in rapid weight loss and excessive shedding. Fearing malnutrition or dehydration, Victor made several trips with her to the vet, believing it to be an illness. Not sparing any expense, the doctors ran the gamut of medical tests, but no solid diagnosis could be reached. Rather, the mutual conclusion among the experts was simply that Makkachin's age was the reason for her symptoms. Victor had a suspicion that that was the cause, so when it was confirmed, he wasn't surprised. After all, Makkachin was sixteen years old, already far exceeding the average life expectancy for her breed. In the end, there was nothing anybody could do. The only advice given was to take her home, make her comfortable, and to spend as much time with her as possible.

"Victor?" Yuuri's voice was hushed, coming from the bedroom. "Are you coming?"

Afraid that his emotions would betray him if he spoke, Victor just nodded.

Leaving Makkachin to rest, Victor joined Yuuri in bed, the two of them curled up underneath the blankets.

"How is she?" Yuuri asked, gently pulling Victor closer to him.

"She won't eat," he whispered, voice cracking. "Or drink. All she does now is sleep. Yuuri... I'm scared."

"Oh, Vitya." Yuuri hugged Victor to his chest as tears began to roll down his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Trembling, Victor took a shaky breath and lifted his head to meet Yuuri's gaze.

"You know I've had her since she was a puppy?"

Yuuri gave him a warm, empathetic smile and gingerly wiped the tears from Victor's face with his thumb. Victor leaned into the touch. "Yeah. You found her, right?"

"Mm," he said. "In the park. It was New Year's Day. Just a week after I turned twelve."

Victor reached for Yuuri's hand and laced their fingers as the memory from so long ago played over in his head.

Running late, he had cut across the park that day so he could hopefully avoid a scolding from Yakov when he arrived at practice. His silvery hair flowed behind him from underneath a thick, fur-lined hat, and there was a wool scarf coiled around his nose and mouth to protect him from the biting air.

"It was freezing," Victor continued. "And honestly I was only concentrating on getting to the rink so I could warm up. Ironic, isn't it? But then I heard this noise. At first, it was so faint that I thought I was imagining it. But I kept hearing it, and I followed it right to the edge of the park."

Victor recalled how he came across a cardboard box tucked between the evergreens, the sides already starting to disintegrate from the rain and snow. When he peeked in, Victor gasped at the small bundle of brown fur that was whimpering and whining, huddled in the corner.

"She was so tiny, Yuuri," Victor said. "And skinny. And she was shivering. I didn't even think twice. I couldn't leave her there. She was so helpless."

"You have the biggest heart, that's why," Yuuri murmured, splaying his palm over Victor's chest, feeling the steady beat beneath his shirt.

"I remember taking off my hat and putting her inside to give her some warmth. And I wrapped my scarf around her and carried her the rest of the way to the rink. Yakov was not happy with me when I said I wanted to keep her rather than give her to the shelter. He didn't think I had the time to properly care for a dog. Nor did he think I was mature enough. But I knew I was. I knew even then that I was meant to find her. She became my best friend. The only one I could tell everything to. And that's how it was for years. No matter what was happening, Makkachin was always there when I came home at the end of the day. I don't know how I'm going to say goodbye."

Yuuri grasped Victor's other hand and squeezed. "I know. It's really hard. But I'm here. Okay?"

Snuggling against him, Yuuri held Victor in his arms and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. "I'm here," he repeated, this time a little firmer. "It's okay."

When Yuuri woke the next morning, he was alone. Victor's side of the bed was cold, meaning that he had gotten up some time ago.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Yuuri peeled the blankets off and stood. After putting on his glasses and slipping into his house shoes, Yuuri made his way to the kitchen to start the morning coffee.

He was about to call out for Victor when he spotted his fiancé in the living room. Victor was sitting cross-legged on the couch, Makkachin situated in his lap. With his gaze fixed on a random floor board, Victor had his hand at her nape, stroking her fur. But there was no reaction from the beloved dog. Her eyes were shut, and she was completely still.

Yuuri's heart seized.

"Vitya...?" Yuuri stepped forward, a surge of panic clawing its way up his throat.

The silence seemed to stretch out for an eternity, but when Victor finally looked up, Yuuri could see the grief in his bloodshot eyes.

"No..."

Rushing to his side, Yuuri wrapped his arms around Victor's shoulders, allowing Victor to rest his head in the crook of Yuuri's neck.

"Vitya... I'm-"

"She was tired," Victor interjected, barely audible. "I told her it was okay to go. Does that make me a terrible person?"

"Of course not," Yuuri said. "You did it because you didn't want her to go through any more pain or discomfort. Vitya, from the very first day till now, everything you did for her was in her best interest. I mean, how do you think she was able to live such a long, happy life? It's because of you, and all the wonderful love and care you gave her over the years."

"Thank you, my love," Victor said, pressing a small kiss to the side of Yuuri's neck. He sighed and gently tangled his fingers into Makkachin's scruff. "Do you think she's okay?"

"More than okay," Yuuri said. "If I had to guess, I'd say she's either chasing butterflies or eating her favorite sausage links right now."

Makkachin opened her eyes and slowly blinked in her surroundings. The green grass was soft beneath her paws and the rolling hills extended far into the distance, dotted with bright yellow daisies. Hearty oak trees with thick trunks were spread out across the land, providing shade and shelter for the birds that nestled themselves among their sturdy branches. A cluster of fragrant rose bushes stood tall by a crystalline pond, the water home to a group of majestic koi that leapt into the air in graceful arcs. Nothing looked familiar, but the soft golden light that washed over her from above was calming. She felt safe, protected.

As she got up to explore, Makkachin noticed that the ache in her hind legs and back was gone. Huh. Doing a few spins to test the curious discovery, she let out a joyful bark and started running.

A pair of squirrels darting around the base of a tree caught her eye, but Makkachin froze when she saw something move behind a hydrangea shrub.

Crouching low to the ground, Makkachin barked at the plant, hoping to coax whatever creature was there out from its hiding spot.

Tail flicking in anticipation, Makkachin held her breath as the figure emerged. The shadows fell away, and Makkachin came face-to-face with... herself? Well, not exactly. The strange dog shared her coarse brown fur and little poof atop her head, but it was much smaller, maybe even more than half her size. Makkachin could also tell just from scent alone that this dog was a boy.

With his tongue lolling out of his mouth, the dog bounded over and licked the tip of her nose in greeting.

"Hi! I'm Vicchan. You must be Makkachin."

Makkachin cocked her head to the side. Vicchan? Now that name certainly rang a bell. But why?

"Have we met before?" Makkachin asked.

"No," Vicchan answered. "But your papa and my papa know each other. You know my papa, too."

"I do?"

"Yes, silly. He lives with you and your papa."

Makkachin's eyes widened. She finally recognized him. Vicchan. Of course. He was her papa's dog that he always told stories about. Not her first papa, the one who had saved her when she'd been abandoned, but her second papa. The one who'd moved in just a few months ago. Makkachin loved him. He was generous with his hugs and had a bright smile and round cheeks that Makkachin always bestowed slobbery kisses on every morning. Not to mention how happy he made Makkachin's first papa, something that she had missed for a long time.

"My papa talked to me last night," Vicchan said. "He asked me to watch over you when you arrived. He wasn't sure exactly when you'd come, so I waited. But now you're here, and I'm really glad to see you. We can play together until they get here."

"Where are our papas?" Makkachin glanced around, as if expecting them to appear.

"Well, they're still Downstairs," said Vicchan. "They won't be here for a while, but don't worry. There's tons of fun stuff to do in the meantime: tug-of-war, playing fetch, swimming. I even know where to get the best food, like roast beef, baked chicken, sausage links..."

Makkachin perked up. "Sausage links are my favorite."

Vicchan barked in agreement. "Mine too. In fact, I'm getting hungry. Come on, let's go!"

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