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Everything she does during the ceremony, is done on autopilot. Yuliya stands pretty as she's presented the medal, a little golden thing with a star in the middle, strap colored like the Ukrainian flag, blue and gold. She salutes the president, an older man with greying hair, dressed in a dark suit. She goes up to the podium and gives a (hopefully) powerful moving speech about heroes and her brother, while internally being completely devoid of any emotion. Everything after that is a whirlwind of moving, interviews, being chatted to by sympathetic MPs, and shoving fancy cheeses onto a plastic plate to eat. After a while, she gets tired of the attention and the noise, and feels her head start to pound painfully and her throat begin to close up due to the close proximity of everyone packed around her like a can of sardines, and sneaks out.
She sits on a large wooden bench outside the hall, eating her cheese near silently. Yuliya will probably go back into the hall again to meander around or tell someone she's leaving. Yuliya reaches for her pokeball, and released Bdzi with a click of the white button. The bee pokemon floated around, jittery and smiling with excitement at a new place. Bdzi floated around the Rada building, spinning wildly and looking curiously at everything around her, the sculpted gold columns and the framed works of art. Yuliya smiled as she watched her pokemon drift around, humming loudly.
"Hey."
Yuliya jumped in shock, and turned around to face Oksana, arms crossed and smiling. The woman just gapes at Oksana for a few minutes, words caught in her throat. She feels as if she's in the presence of a god. Bdzi floats over to her, close by her owners side out of shyness.
"Oh, hello!" Yuliya finally manages, smiling weakly.
The MP merely laughs, Yuliya noticing that whenever she laughs or smiles the bridge of her nose scrunches up a little, and sits beside the shaking woman. Yuliya feels an urge to retreat inside herself, anxious that she was setting herself up for humiliation, and uncomfortable with the presence of someone else after being alone so long. Oksana just smiled at her, a somewhat sarcastic, jokey smile, eyes crinkled.
"Too much people for you, hm?" She laughs, and Yuliya nods quickly. She feels like a trapped animal, unable to move, just watch.
"I know how you're feeling," Oksana says, leaning back on the bench and holding her head. "When I was released and given this big ceremony, I was freaked out too."
"When they captured me, they held me in this little grey cell with cameras on every corner, watching me," She continued. "I had to cover my body with towels every time I got dressed or used the bathroom, and I felt their eyes all over my body. Like they were eating me up."
"How fuckin' humiliating!" Oksana exclaims, crossing her arms. "When I got back home, I felt that same feeling when all these people swarmed around me, peering at me like I was an animal in a cage."
Yuliya feels somewhat comforted by Oksana's story, calmer, but still on edge. The two of them have something in common, forced internment by the separatists (or potentially someone… different, in Yuliya's case). They'd suffered in similar ways, the loneliness of prison, and both had probably been tortured, most likely. They're birds of the same feather.
"For me, it was… a white cell block..." Yuliya rasps, Bdzi moving to her shoulder. She doesn't know why she's telling her this. "Bright, glaring white… with a light bulb on at nearly all times… They'd only turn it off for a few hours. They were forcing me to stay awake…"
Oksana raises her eyebrows and listens, head cocked to one side.
"I was naked… the whole time, hands cuffed to a metal pole behind my head..." She continues, and Oksana cringes at the thought of what might have happened to her. To her best knowledge, what she thinks happened, didn't. "A man came in… inspected me… decided it was time for me to join them in 'the fight'… fucking dumbass uncuffed me. I overpowered him… and ran off, making my way back to the base."
"Jeeeeesus," Oksana hisses, fidgeting with her fingers. "I don't know what to say…"
"That's okay," Yuliya smiles softly. "At least we have some sort of… comradery? Two girls in the Army… both suffered in prison…"
"Yeah," Oksana grins, looking up at Yuliya. "Quite an awful bond, but a bond nonetheless."
There's an awkward pause between the two of them.
"Y'know," Oksana said, smiling wistfully. "I was worried about you. We were all worried about you, in the Rada."
"Really?" Yuliya asks.
"Oh yeah!" She continues, smiling somewhat. "After they couldn't find you and your brother's bodies, here you and your brother were was the biggest mystery in all of Ukraine for a month! Everyone had their own theories…"
"What was yours?" Yuliya asks, deeply curious. She'd only glanced through articles about the attack after her return, not bothering to risk an attack.
"I was always waiting for that ransom note to get mailed in," Oksana crosses her arms. "Like what happened with me. I wasn't one of those crackpots who thought you ran off to fight ISIS, or whatever."
"...People thought that?" Yuliya laughed, Bdzi looking up at her.
"It was either fighting for or against," Oksana smiles, and Yuliya laughs louder. "I told them, 'It would take them longer than two months for them to reach Syria', and they just laughed me off and said 'Well, maybe they took a plane'!"
It's the most Yuliya has laughed in months, wheezing and red in the face. A few minutes later, she manages to stop laughing, head fuzzy. Bdzi floats around her head in circles, giggling as well, and Oksana watches the two of them with a grin.
"Where do you think your brother is?" Oksana asks suddenly, and Yuliya looks up at her, smile dropping from her face.
"I…" Yuliya stammers, before regaining her composure, rubbing at her eyes. "I don't know. The military said that it was pointless to open up a search for him… that he's probably dead."
"Those fuckers!" Oksana exclaims, and Yuliya flinches at her volume. "How could they? Why didn't you tell the media, or the government?"
"My parents were the ones who petitioned for the case," Yuliya mumbles, fidgeting with her hands. "They immigrated to America shortly after that... haven't really had the time to make another."
"And…" Yuliya says, before her voice chokes up. She coughs loudly, hunched over the bench. "I… uh… haven't been in the best shape of my life to talk... too much about him."
Oksana stares at her with a sad look, and Yuliya feels shame, like she's making the MP pity her. She shouldn't have told Oksana her life story, make her think a lot of her off of the bat. She deserves to be alone, repent for what she's done. She's not a hero.
"Well, I can help you!" Oksana said softly, placing a warm hand on Yuliya's shoulders. It doesn't feel uncomfortable, it feels actually soothing. "How about we go back to your place and discuss this further?"
Yuliya nods, blush creeping across her face. She hasn't had anyone in her apartment for a long time, and it feels exceptionally awkward to let someone in now… Still, the two of them stand up, Yuliya flinging her empty plate into the trash, and begin to walk down the halls of the Rada, Bdzi close by her owner. Oksana looked up at the bee pokemon, who moved a little closer, a curious look on her face.
"I'll be honest," Oksana laughs, gesturing to Bdzi. "I've never seen a pokemon like that before… Where'd you get it?"
"Oh, Bdzi was an old gift from my dad, he's a big pokemon geek," Yuliya says, and Bdzi hums triumphantly. "He said that her species lives mainly on islands in the Pacific Ocean... feeding off of exotic flowers or whatever."
"Wow…!" Oksana whistles, a crooked smile on her face. "She must be cold here, then!"
"Not as much as you think," Yuliya smiles, reaching for her coat and scarf. She wraps the scarf around her neck, and buttons up her coat, Bdzi humming all the while. "She's pretty hardy, and hides in my scarf most of the time, hehehe!"
"Huh," Oksana mumbles, slipping her dark ski jacket on, and opening the door for Yuliya. Bdzi huddles into Yuliya's scarf at the blast of night time cold, and the two girls begin to walk down the illuminated streets of Kiev. "I'm not as cool as you, I just have a growlithe at home, pretty typical pokemon, y'know…"
"That's still cool." Yuliya says, putting her hands in her pockets. She hears a distant caw-caw-caw of a murkrow, and her hand itches to retrieve Bdzi, and her body breaks out in a cold sweat.
"Yuliya?"
She holds her hands over her ears and grimaces, loud radio static and violent images running through her head. Of bodies sprawled on the fields of Donbass after fierce battles, covered in swarms of murkrow tearing at the flesh, their cawing echoing and overpowering the silence of the fields. Of murkrow attacking her with beaks and talons as she desperately tried to retrieve their bodies, dragging them by a cold foot or arm. She hunches over in the middle of the sidewalk, people walking past the two of them like nothing is happening. Oksana rushes over to the shaking woman, wrapping her arms around her in an attempt to comfort her. Yuliya shivers for a few moments, before gradually straightening up, blinking rapidly, grabbing her pokeball, and retrieving Bdzi with a flash of red, placing the ball back into her pocket.
"Sorry," Yuliya rasps, and Oksana looks up at her with concern written across her face. "I'm… not fond of murkrow… as you can see."
Oksana laughs, but Yuliya notes that her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes, caught somewhere in the middle. She's scared, anxious rather. Yuliya feels a pang of anger and disgust, mixing and churning within her belly. She tries her best to shake it off, and leads Oksana deep down into the Metro station, to wait for a train.
They reach Yuliya's apartment complex after a long train ride with a bunch of middle aged drunk men, which is a cookie cutter building in all white, with clothes lines drifting from the balconies. Oksana doesn't look very impressed, keeping a stoic face while walking through the lobby, and practically glaring at one of the receptionists. Yuliya thinks that it's just how her face is when not showing emotion, no harm meant. As they enter the elevator and Yuliya plunks in her floor number, she's hit by the feeling that Oksana is using her and her brothers case for her own interests. You couldn't trust politicians with anything, her father had told her, they'd lie to you with a smile upon their maw and turn around and ruin your life.
To be fair, he had witnessed the Islamic Revolution in Iran, and her grandfather, his father, was purged from society, tortured, and then executed for opposing the regime. He might have had a little bit of a bias there.
"Oksana…?" Yuliya asked, leaning against the wall of the elevator.
"Yeah?"
"W-Why are you helping me?" She stammers, internally berating her own fear leering from the corners of her mind, and Oksana glances back at her with an unreadable expression.
"Because, if someone won't look for him, who will?" Oksana said, a small smile gracing her face. Yuliya feels calmed by her, hopefully honest, sentiment, and smiles at her.
"Oh." Yuliya hums, before the doors are flung open, and the two walk to her apartment. As Oksana pulls the door open, Yuliya is suddenly aware of the dust, uncleaned plates and over all mess in her apartment, which Oksana peers at with an unreadable expression. Flustered, Yuliya stacks her dishes and places them in the sink, and opening the fridge and peering through.
"Do you want a drink?" Yuliya asks, looking over at Oksana, who is still looking around. "I have juice, Coca Cola, vodka…"
"Vodka is fine." Oksana says, and Yuliya pours out two glasses for them. Oksana sits down at the grey counter, and takes a sip of her drink.
"So…" Oksana said, putting her glass down onto the counter with a clatter. "What happened to you two in Alchevsk?"
Yuliya explains the mortar attack in length, trying her best not to fall into a hallucination or violent panic attack in front of Oksana. All that happens is that she recalls the scene of her screaming and bloody brother being lead away on a stretcher by the same men in dark uniforms who kidnapped her. She chases this image with a gulp of vodka, the burn of it going down both distracting and refocusing her mind.
"Jesus." Oksana whispered, looking up at Yuliya. "So that's the last time you saw him?"
"Yep." Yuliya says, somewhat mournfully. "When I escaped… I looked for him in the cells… but I found no one."
"Do you have anything that could help us find out what happened to him?" Oksana asks.
Yuliya's mind flashes to the papers, and she briefly debates showing her them. What if she thinks she's gone completely insane and faked them all? What if she uses them for her own political gain, making the two Bousaids into martyrs for the war effort, plastering their faces on posters? However…
"I do," Yuliya nods, pulling out the wad of papers, separating them into two piles. One for Yuliya, one for her brother. Oksana's eyes widen, and her eyes go back and forth from the woman and the papers. "They're completely in English. I can read a little bit of the first page, if you want."
"Absolutely." Oksana nods very quickly, eyes so wide they might as well pop from her skull. Yuliya breathes in and out shakily, and takes a swig of vodka.
Yuliya reads what she can of the first page, watching Oksana's expression change into a mixture of shock, horror and confusion. Her voice shakes as she reads, fingers trembling at the mental effort of remembering that the people who captured her knew almost everything about her.
"That's all I can read," Yuliya concludes, and the politician just stares at her with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. "I wish I could tell you that they got something wrong… but… it's all true. They know where my mother and father were born, my address, ****, they even know my weight... They know my whole life."
Yuliya shivers at the thought, before downing another gulp of vodka, focusing on the burn, traveling down her gullet.
"Who do you think they are?" Oksana asks softly, hand on her chin. "I thought that Russia might have taken you, before, but now…"
"I… don't know." Yuliya muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose, lost in thought. "The man who inspected me spoke awful Ukrainian, but he could be from anywhere… All I know is that the organization uses English in their documentation, so that could mean it's an American or English militia, or maybe consist of multiple nationalities… Who knows?"
"This is all so bizarre…" Oksana says, looking very thoughtful. "If this isn't all one big red herring, this means that there's a militia working with the separatists that we don't know about! If we don't identify them fast…" Oksana trails off, and Yuliya grimaces.
"What I'm saying, is that you have valuable information with you." Oksana said, smiling warmly. "Are you trying to translate it?"
"Yeah," Yuliya nods, fidgeting with her fingers. She reaches over and takes a sip of her vodka. "Why?
"Well," Oksana said, moving closer to Yuliya, who flushes at the threat of contact. "I want to help you. This isn't something you should do alone, especially since it upsets you so much. So, I want to take a burden off of your shoulders."
Yuliya feels comforted by Oksana's words. It's the first time since her service that someone has really looked out for her, or tried to bond with her, other than her pokemon. The lack of that had itched within her heart, and now that it was satisfied, she felt herself melting at the warmth. She swiped the tears out of the corners of her eyes.
"Thank you." She whispers, before she's interrupted by a flapping of wings as Raffu lands on her counter, looking over at Oksana with a curious expression. Yuliya laughs at the politicians shocked expression as the hawk pokemon chirps loudly, and taps his talon impatiently.
"I hope you excuse me," Yuliya smiles, walking back to the fridge. She does the usual, defrosts mouse, chops it's head off, and walks the plate to her bedroom, so Oksana isn't disgusted by Raffu's eating habits.
"So." Oksana says, after Yuliya returns, massaging her hands. "How about we try and gather together some information tomorrow at the Rada, at around 11 o'clock? I'll talk to my party leader and see what we can do, alright?"
"That's fine." Yuliya says, a smile creeping across her face.
"Do you have a mobile phone?" Oksana asks, and Yuliya nods, before walking over to the couch and picking up a dusty iPhone from the dark blue coffee table. Oksana watches with a smile as she dusts the phone off with the back of her hand, pouting all the while.
"Not much of a phone person, are you?" She grins, and Yuliya nods sadly.
"None of my friends… are left…" Yuliya rasps, and the smile falls off of Oksana's face as she realizes what she said. "I didn't really have anyone to… call before…"
"I'm sorry," Oksana whispers, before forcing a crooked smile on her face. "Well, now you have me!"
"Yeah." Yuliya hums, and the two exchange phone numbers after Yuliya turns her phone on, having shut it off a month ago. Oksana walks towards the front of the room, slipping her ski jacket on, before looking back at Yuliya.
"So, see you tomorrow!" Oksana says, her familiar nose scrunching grin on her face. She waggles her finger at Yuliya. "Don't be late!"
"Bye!" Yuliya waves, peeking out the doorway as Oksana leaves. As she leaves her sight, Yuliya is suddenly hit with a feeling of immense dread, as if she opened something that could lead to her eventual downfall. She swallows, trying to force a lump down her throat.
"...Be safe."