Ch 22 Vanechka

Ivan rarely spoke of that evening to other people. It sounded entirely fictional. Without firing a bullet (to avoid alerting the enemy), he dared to use only a dagger killing three German soldiers before they even realized! After that, he had to carry this unconscious little guy running like a mad man towards the woods outside the village. Oh, the road leading to the woods—to little boy Vanya, it was short enough to be disregarded, but in that unforgetable night, he felt that it had no end.

In his military life afterwards, Ivan made many accomplishments, but that death-defying night never happened again. Because there would never be another person with body covered with wounds, walking barefooted across his heart. There would never be another person with those black and white eyes, looked at him through his hazy eyes and fell into his arms.

When he almost got into the woods, suddenly siren, men's shoutings and approaching footsteps of large crowd emerged from the village. "Into the woods!" the lead man yelled, causing Ivan's slightly unwound heart to tense up again—that was the voice of Dimka. For the invader's rewards, that man had sent his childhood friend Mishka to the hanging pole with his own hand, and now was leading them to hunt for the other good friend Vanya.

Unprecedented bitterness from despair covered Ivan's heart—whoever had played in the woods all knew the numerous hideout places! Let alone Dimka who was often on Vanya's side…

"Who the hell's on your ratbag's side!" Ivan swore in low voice. Just then, he remembered a last hideout spot—back then, none of his little buddies, however smart and cunning, were able to find him there—and, with a child's selfishness, he kept this secret from everyone. But how could he had known that it would save the lives of him and his beloved one many years later!

"Let Mishka be hanging from the gibet! Let Egorov be lying at the end of the village! Let Yao be tortured to his last breath! And let me carry him hiding around from you! Everyone's end will be better than yours! Yell! Search! Lead the invaders and have the time of your life on your own land! When we push back to Bereza, I'll be the first one finishing you off." Ivan ducked into his last hideout, immersing his whole body and heart in tremendous hatred. "By then, you will die a tombless death! Bereza's soil will not contain you…"

He felt that he was the last son of the Russian land, carrying the last gun and guarding the last beachhead*on the ground; and the entire hope of this ventured battle was quietly lying in his arms.

With an extremely rare tenderness known to himself, Ivan gingerly placed Wang Yao on his crossed legs, unbuttoned and carefully removed the solidly-frozen jacket from Wang Yao's body, pressed that cold stiff body into his warm arms, wrapped the military coat around them and buttoned up. The series of action only took a short time, but long enough to identify the countless wounds underneath the ragged shirt that was barely able to cover.

The scene of Wang Yao's childish gesture as he was changing clothes in gramp Mikhalech's cabin abruptly resurfaced in his mind, causing his heart to experience a thrusting pain. He softly rubbed Wang Yao's bloodless face with his own.

"Oh you…" his lip pressing close to Wang Yao's ear, "How on earth could you bear it… "

Only right then with Wang Yao lying in his arms did he realize how small the man was, almost like infant sleeping in the cradle. The head of black hair leaned on his left shoulder and the lovely face buried on his neck. He surrounded his left arm under the coat to hug the other's body and the right hand on the other side was gently rubbing that pair of cold naked feet. As to Wang Yao's hands—they were being thoughtfully pressed against his warm chest.

Ivan couldn't wrap up the wounds for the man in his arms, thus, warming up this frozen stiff body was all he could do at this moment. He huffed hot air on that cold face, "I know that you would only feel pain when you woke up, but please don't keep sleeping…" prayed him near the other's lips, "Maybe in your sleep, the cruel torment continued? But if you wake up and see me, you will know that all those things are over…"

As to reassure the unconscious man, Ivan reached in his left hand from the lower hem of the ragged shirt, gently stroking that lean but flexible waist to transmit his presence and warmth to Wang Yao. He dared to do so because he didn't feel any wounds on the left side.

Then, he saw the long elegant brows frowned slightly, the bushy eyelashes quivered violently and a vague sound of apparent painful moan leaked out from that red swollen lips. Ivan was rattled. He pulled up the coat in a fluster and lifted Wang Yao's shirt—beneath the seemingly intact skin was a huge dark purple bruise left from the kickings of military boots. His heart was torn and, without knowing if the man could hear, repeated in low voice over and over:

"I didn't know…Forgive me…"

At this moment, he saw that pair of horse-like dark round eyes gradually opened.

"It's you…Vanya! Vanechka…"

How many times had this name been called by parents, sisters, friends and relatives! But at the moment, it was as if he heard it for the first time in his life. Ivan could barely suppress the urge of passionately kissing that endearing face and reached out one hand to brush away that strand of black hair stuck on the forehead from cold sweat. Then he placed that hand firmly on Wang Yao's face,

"It's me. I am here and you are in my arms…They could never find us…" He was like a child just learned to speak, whispering into Wang Yao's ear with utmost fervour, "But I can always find you…When they beat you, I knew that you were in my house. The thrashing could be heard on the road…I even counted." His voice paused for a second as though to suppress something. "I waited for a whole day until evening when I finally got the chance to steal you back…"

"You didn't listen to me afterall." Wang Yao's frail voice interrupted him, "I told you, if there's something wrong, go back immediately…"

He suddenly raised his head, the violet eyes staring at the dark round ones with blame and worry,

"Ivan the devil already gave in to you once. Never expect him to give in again."

He saw Wang Yao taking a deep breath, almost as to gather up his entire strength and try posing a serious face,

"But you also ended your way out...How do you take me along? Listen to me, good Vanechka…leave me here and go by yourself…"

Wang Yao couldn't finish because the words were blocked by Ivan's hand. He softly covered his left hand on Wang Yao's mouth just enough to prevent him from speaking. He saw that pair of dark round eyes suddenly enlarged and the man in his embrace struggled to break loose of his captivity.

—But how could you have the strength! That frightened and helpless look fell into Ivan's eyes and filled him with amusement and pained sympathy. His hand did't back off. Wang Yao's hurried breaths rushed onto his fingers, as if hugging to the softest spot of his heart as well. His gaze became deep and solemn. The gesture originally was to playfully punish Wang Yao, now turning into deep tenderness and torment.

He saw something flickering in the eyes of the man in his arms, and—with that—a tiny kiss captured in his palm. A flush of tenderness welling up his heart told him: Wang Yao gave in to him.

He removed his hand and fixed his warm lips onto the others, indulging in fervent kisses.