Sorry for being late! ToT
Otabek learned a lot about the Orlov bratva on this day.
Their leader was Anatolij Orlov, a man in his mid 60s who had been born and raised in Pokrovsk, southern from Yakutsk. After the perestroika had failed he had come to Moscow and became the right hand of his uncle, who seized the chance and bought a lot of real estate related companies and land in the unsteady times. The uncle, Anton Tarassov, was a so called thief in law, a vor vzakone, who was respected among the people in Moscow who he provided with secure jobs and a privately funded welfare system before the new administration could even bother to take measurements. His earnings and the way he handled problems made him an important figure at the ending 20th century and soon Orlov followed in his footsteps. Of course the methods they chose were mostly illegal but the purpose was not of an evil quality so no one regarded the Tarassov-Orlov clan a criminal organization.
After some decades of adapting to the new and different Russia Tarassov retired from his position and moved to Israel, making way for his enthusiastic nephew. Orlov managed to let the bratva grow in members, financial value and influence within years. Now it had its fingers in almost every pie from the justice department to the ministry of transport and regional development. They owned not only most of the outskirts where the Khrushchyovka had been planted like a field of gray sunflowers, but also a lot of establishments downtown such as apartment buildings, amusement businesses and so on. Orlov himself was said to be decent and staid, a true vor like they had become very rare in the past decades. Nowadays the clan and the related organization acted mostly as a krusha, a kind of guarding organization that tried to keep Moscow a mostly peaceful place by handling criminal gangs and intruding organizations so the people could run their businesses without worrying about raids, larceny and protection rackets.
"Actually what they do is not very different from what the literal mafia does, but they do it with the approval of the people, so it's more or less okay", Nad explained and took a sip from her tea. She had prepared a pot after learning that Otabek had absolutely no idea about those things. He had apologized, but she had only smiled and shrugged. Now the pot was almost empty. "Humans get used to things really fast", she continued, "and the feeling of insecurity makes them handle things on a whole other level. Times are hard, even now, so if they can pay the protection money and run their businesses in peace, that's what they choose. It's better than coming home from the grocery store and see your shop burning." She shrugged. "Not that I need someone to protect me myself. I have the rabbits after all." Otabek's frown made her laugh. "That's probably the only thing more effective than paying the bratva to keep an eye on the house. No one knowingly burns down a house with three adorable little rabbits in it, right?"
Otabek looked over to the cage. All three of them had woken up by now, idly scampering from here to there, nibbling on vegetables and grains. "Do they have names?", he asked as Nad lit her third cigarette.
"The white one is Merlin, the Black one Isary and the brown one Fjodor. They are cousins."
Otabek watched the small animals for a while and Nad sat in silence as well for some minutes before asking: "So, what are your plans now?"
Not looking at her Otabek replied: "I don't know yet. You say that the tattoo is the symbol of the bratva. So the group that attacked us was affiliated with that clan one way or the other. I don't know how high the chances are that I will ever find the ones who did all that to me. To us. And even if I find them I don't know what will happen. Maybe I can regain my memory. Maybe not. It comes randomly and I don't know how it is triggered. There is no guarantee that it will bring back more details. But it is the only thing I have. So I will put everything I have in it. Otherwise there's not hope for me." He turned his head to look at Nad and saw her nodding her head.
"I can not even judge you for thinking that way", she said, slowly, like she was still thinking about her words. "To be honest I can not imagine what it is like if a part of your memory is so blurry that you can't make sense of it. So if this is what you are going to do…" She stubbed out her cigarette. "In that case you need all the help you can possibly get. Do you have someone to help you out with the formalities?"
Not entirely sure what formalities she was referring to Otabek shook his head. Because the truth was that he had no one to help him with anything. It was him and only him.
"In that case you are really lucky that I'm not a bad person and that I know some people who can help you." She paused a little, like to let her words sink in. "You need new papers. You can not risk to be caught with all your lawful information. It does not only put you in danger but everyone you hold dear as well. Your friends, your family. So you need a new ID card, passport, bank account, new papers for everything basically. You need a secure place to live, one that is not easy to find but easy enough to access. Also you should train in melee combat and shooting. Just in case, you're not John Wick, but you should to be able to defend yourself. You need a weapon as well. Knives are good, guns are better. Moscow is no sandbox, you need to be prepared for everything. Also you need to find a way to get into the bratva. You can't act from the outside. You have to infiltrate it. You have to become a part of the system to freely move in it. And once you are in there there is no easy way of backing out. It's all or nothing. Are you willing to do that?"
Otabek nodded, but Nad asked again: "Are you absolutely and a hundred percent sure that you want to do that? I can only warn you, once you made that step it is as good as impossible go back. Do you want to risk everything you have?"
Otabek looked back at her with severe expression, then said: "There is nothing to risk for they already have taken everything from me."
Nad sighed, then nodded. "Okay. Okay, Erasyl. Just promise me to not get you into trouble. I wouldn't want a babe like you to get harmed." She grinned mischievously. "Although those scars look hot on you." She winked.
в
Back in his room Otabek thought about the things Nad had told him. It was a shock to hear what huge a clan hid behind a symbol as common as the tattoo he had seen twice in his life now. He most likely had not given it any second thought if not for the flashback yesterday. The fact that he had to rely on mere luck now gave him nausea. This was not how he had expected his trip to Moscow to go. But life was not a fairytale after all and he had learned that the hard way many times already. He adapted by making the most out of every little chance he got and this was no exception.
Nad had asked him to come again the day after tomorrow. She would ask her acquaintances about helping him out. He was thankful, but didn't ask why she knew people who had the ability to counterfeit documents and official papers.
He wrote down what he had learned today in the notebook. Also what he had come up with during the ride home: it was too late in the day already to do it right away, but he had thought of going to the police station tomorrow to check if they had any records about the attack three and a half years ago. As long as he still acted as Otabek Altin and not as Erasyl Ten, the name he had suggested to Nad and that would show up in his new papers, he would try to find out if there was anything that would complete the blurry memories he had of the incident.
For now there was not much he could do about it though. All he had left was either roaming the darkening streets or sitting in his room, thinking. Thinking was painful, but it had to be done eventually. Even realizing that he was at a dead end in his search for Yuri was necessary somehow. It hurt so much though.
The box sat on the desk staring at him reproachfully. He stared back for a moment, then opened it with a sigh. Avoiding it didn't help him, so he took out the letters carefully, piling them up one after the other.
The first one read: Dear Otabek, I'm scared. I hope you'll never have to read those. But I'm scared. I'm so scared. I need you. Please don't leave me alone. I need you here. Don't leave me don't leave me i'm so scared please Otabek you idiot Otabek please Otabek i miss you so much
He read it, one, twice, three times. The words felt so honest and all he could think was that he wished he had never been in the situation to read those letters either. And that he missed Yuri, too. That he was scared as well. So much, so much! The way Yuri's handwriting became jittery gave reading the few words another aspect of despair. How must Yuri have felt when he had written this letter? Otabek couldn't imagine. The tears that had made the paper contract forming small waves gave him an idea though.
The second letter emphasized the impression. Dear Otabek, I can't stop crying. Will I ever stop crying? Everyone's so worried about me and I want to scream at them to leave me alone The only one I need is you no one else! Why can't they leave me alone when all i want is to have you back Why does this happen to us why is it us what have we done? i just want you back i'm so scared it drives me crazy please Otabek dont leave me
He read this letter multiple times, too. The everyone Yuri mentioned in this one were most likely the people back in St. Petersburg, his coaches, his rinkmates, his friends, and of course his grandfather. When Otabek had talked to him they had mentioned how Yuri had refused any help, any comfort. How he had locked up in his room, not talking, not even eating. The only thing he had done was crying, so they had said. Yuri, of all people, who had always tried so hard not to let his emotional weakness show, who had hidden behind anger and insults, being noisy and mean. Except when he was with Otabek. The Kazakh had rarely experienced Yuri's aggressive side. The fairy had thoroughly divided who he was showing which side of his self. Otabek had been blessed with gentleness and smiles, soft green eyes, often glittering with wit or joy and sometimes sad and insecure. For Otabek those moments had all been equally precious. He was glad that he was allowed to see behind Yuri's icy façade. He often had wished that Yuri would open up to other people as well, that he'd see that it was not a bad thing to show his feelings, even his insecurities, even sadness, even weakness. So in the end he had. In the most heartbreaking way, forced to scream his despair in everyone's faces because there was nothing else left about Yuri Plisetsky at that time. It gave Otabek goosebumps. And to think that he was the cause for all of this, that he was the reason why Yuri had suffered so much- He didn't finish the thought. It wasn't his fault. He was the reason, yes, but he had never wanted that. He had never wanted Yuri to feel so terrible because of him. All he had wanted was to make Yuri smile a little more. Turned out he had unintentionally done the exact opposite.
Dear Otabek, I don't know why I am doing this. When you wake up I'll never show you those letters, EVER! I'm so ridiculous, I know I'm making a fool of myself but I need to get it out somehow. So I thought instead of screaming at everyone who comes near me and scream at night when I feel so alone and cry all day that I can get it out if I write it down.
I'm scared. But not just scared. I can't move. I can't breathe. Everything hurts. Especially my eyes and my heart. What if I lose you? I can't stand the thought. They said that you will live and then they told me that you are in a coma and no one knows what's going to happen? How am i supposed to live like that? i need you and i miss you so much, i miss you endlessly and every time i think of you i feel so guilty and i think of you ALL THE TIME! what if you die what if you leave me i cant be without you Otabek i dont want to! please dont die please please please i need you and i need to tell you that i m sorry and i just want you back so you can smile at me all i want is to see you smile once more i would do anything please dont leave me alone
Otabek's eyes followed the lines written in black ballpen. The beginning of the letter had been written very thoroughly, like Yuri had intended to write as neatly as possible. The wording seemed well-chosen as well. He had likely given his first sentences a lot of thought. But soon the writing and the words became just as impulsive as in the letters before. No wonder when he had suffered so much. The way he described how he thought of Otabek so much made him swallow. He wondered when the letter had been written. Yuri mentioned that he yelled at people, so it must have been at Lilia's place, he would not yell at his grandfather, would he. So it was still in that short time span before he had disappeared for almost a week and then shown up in Moscow again. The fact that he still didn't know what had happened in the meantime bothered Otabek a lot. How was it possible that a 16 year old heartbroken boy disappeared without anyone spotting him somewhere? He had been gone for several days, at least that was what he had heard from Viktor during his first call. Lilia had described it that way as well. Where would Yuri go in his state, crying day and night, not eating, taking his cat with him? He had intended to never come back to St. Petersburg, otherwise he would have left the cat there, Otabek thought. It was all very odd and he couldn't imagine how worried everyone had been.
Dear Otabek, the next letter read, it was the worst seeing you like that. It haunts me. Your handsome face so pale. I have nightmares now. Your mother said they brought you home so they could be there for you.
Otabek frowned and read the line once more. The tense was weird here, like Yuri had talked to his mother after they had taken him to the hospital in Almaty already. He read the sentence a third time, but that didn't make it less awkward. Maybe Yuri had called his mother? But when he had asked her about Yuri he had answered that they had never heard of Yuri after he had been at his side in Moscow right after the incident. Maybe Yuri had just mixed up something there, so Otabek, still frowning, kept reading:
She is so worried and still so calm. When she saw me she recognized me immediately I think.
Otabek's frown deepened. He hadn't noticed how strange this part sounded when he had read the letter for the first time.
She wasn't happy that I was there but I couldn't stay in St. Petersburg. Everyone tried to cheer me up but I don't want them to, I just can't stand it.
Otabek grit his teeth while reading. He had a really bad feeling now.
I needed to see you, I think I had died if I hadn't seen you. Your mother said that it's important that you are at home and I think in the end that convinced me to go back to Moscow.
Despite the very sad words that made Otabek's insides feel like they turned to ice he couldn't help but think that maybe it wasn't Yuri's letter who sounded awkward. And it wasn't Otabek who misinterpreted something here.
She's right, home is a good place. So I came here after I left you. I think it is hard for your parents. Your father is very calm. Actually he looks a lot like you and it made me cry so much. He is a wonderful person I think, just like you are. I miss you so much. It's still like a horrible nightmare that I can't just call you in the middle of the night like I used to. I still have your birthday present as well. I want to give it to you as soon as possible. Please, Otabek, get well soon. There's nothing I wish more for.
He read the letter a second time and he got angry while doing so. There was nothing to mis-read. There was only one logical explanation: She had lied. If what Yuri wrote was the truth, then he had indeed been in Almaty to see him. It made sense considering that he had been missing a few days before returning to his grandfather in Moscow. He had come to see him. He had been to the hospital. He and his cat. He had met Otabek's parents. He had talked to his mother.
She had lied.
Otabek remembered exactly how he had asked his mother about Yuri one time and how she had frozen in her movement, her hands levitating over the dough she had been preparing. "I don't know", she had said. "He was your friend, I know that much. But since we brought you home I never heard of him."
She had lied.
Her hands hanging in the air. Her gaze on the wall. Her voice steady and composed. Her words brief.
She had lied.
The moment of shock burned to ashes in the rage that stirred up in Otabek. He dialed the number of the landline, pacing the room like a predator in a cage waiting for someone to pick up. It was the middle of night in Kazakhstan, but he didn't care. He needed to talk to her, now. He wanted her to explain herself, wanted to hear that it was all just a terrible misunderstanding. That she had not lied to him intentionally. That she had not covered up the fact that Yuri had run away from home to come and see him in his pitiful condition.
His father picked up.
"I need to talk to mother", Otabek said, cold, briefly and without a greeting.
His father grunted, then Otabek heard the handset being put on the small green table. After a few moments his mother was on the line.
"Otabek, my dear, how are you?"
He didn't answer. "Why did you lie?", he asked instead.
His mother sounded perplex. "What are you talking about?"
"When I asked you about Yuri", he said, his voice not more than hissing. "You said that you didn't hear about him ever since you brought me back from Moscow. I know now that he came to Almaty. Why did you lie?"
The moment of silence told more than any word could have.
"So it's true."
"Did he tell you that?", she asked and the doubt in her voice made him even angrier.
"He is gone", he hissed. "But that's none of your business either way."
"Be very careful", she said as if she was in the position to threaten him. "This is not how to talk to your mother. Mind your manners."
"Manners!", he laughed. "Hearing from my own mother who lied to me like that! Guess who better minds her manners?"
"Otabek!" Her voice got louder. "I refuse to tolerate such behaviour!"
He didn't even listen. "Why did you lie!?", he yelled, his free hand balling into a fist.
"To protect you!", she gave back equally loud, but it only made him laugh.
"Protect me from what? A heartbroken little boy with an angora cat?! Are you kidding me?"
"Exactly, I tried to protect you from him and his bad influence. It was him who took you to this terrible Moscow and it was him who got you almost killed! I never understood what you see in this selfish brat with nothing but-"
"Don't you dare insulting him!" His whole body started shaking as he interrupted the sentence with his shouting.
"And why not?", his mother yelled. "What is that boy to you anyway? What makes you yell at your own mother for his sake?"
"I love him!"
"No Otabek!", she yelled back, her voice hysteric now. "And you will never say something like that again-"
"But I do!", he cut in. "I love him! I've loved him for six fucking years and I will not conceal because you don't like it!" He felt tears on his cheeks but didn't now if they were because he was so angry or because he missed Yuri so much. "I love him with all I have and I will find him and I don't care if you approve of it or not! I will never stop!"
The call ended. Otabek stared at the carpet, listening to the free line signal. His hand around the cellphone was clenched painfully. After a moment he sat down at the desk again, staring at the letter.
I miss you so much., it read. He could only stare at these five words.
What was so wrong about his feelings that even his own mother couldn't accept them? Was it because Yuri was a boy? A young man now. Because he was gay? Because he had fallen in love with those piercing, deep, sad, angry, wonderful eyes? Six years, he had said, but it wasn't true. He hadn't counted in the coma. It was almost ten years now. Ten years since he had first seen Yuri in that summer camp, back straight and head held up high, his body the body of a fairy and his eyes the eyes of a soldier. Almost ten years ago Otabek had lost his heart without even knowing what it meant to fall in love. It had happened nevertheless. And now he was here, his feelings bursting out of him in hot tears falling onto his knees at midnight in Moscow.