п'ять

Yuliya's apartment isn't any different from yesterday, Oksana notes as she enters the door. It's still pretty sloppy, loose papers and blankets strewn all over the place, and it looks like she mainly sleeps on her couch, but somewhat… homely. Comfortable. Oksana finds herself sinking into the leather chair by the kitchen, resting her back as Volo sniffs about loudly, looking over everything in the house. Bdzi is practically inseparable from her owner, always staying within petting reach of Yuliya, and Raffu flies over to a coat hanger, peering at Oksana from the impromptu perch before flying over to the kitchen counter.

"You mind if I make us lunch?" Yuliya chirps, rummaging through her fridge. "I can't really talk... on an empty stomach... and you've done so much for me already…"

"Sure." Oksana smiles, petting Volo softly as he wanders back to her legs.

There's silence as Yuliya fiddles with the pans on the stove and begins to slice up ingredients. Raffu hops over to her, standing on one of the cabinets. He watches his owner cut up lamb with large, saucer-like eyes, and taps his talons impatiently. Yuliya laughs and shakes her head.

"Not for you," Yuliya scolds, a joking tone to her voice. "It's human food."

Raffu squawks angrily and practically bangs his talons against the wooden cabinet. Oksana laughs loudly.

"You know, I can't imagine owning more than one pokemon, seems like too much of a hassle," Oksana smiles, looking over at the sullen bird pokemon. "How [I]do[/I] you do it?"

"Raffu doesn't usually do much, and Bdzi doesn't exercise other than flying around the house," Yuliya hums, washing her hands. "They aren't very high-maintenance."

"Well, why'd you get him, then? Usually us 'normal folk' only get one instead of twenty-thousand different kinds..."

"Raffu belonged to Amir," Yuliya says sadly, itching at her ears as she speaks. "I didn't have... much of a choice in receiving him..."

"Oh," Oksana says, the room suddenly becoming deathly silent. "I see."

As she begins to cut into a large, ripe tomato, Yuliya speaks, probably to relieve the tension:

"So… You served in a volunteer battalion, right?" she says, and Oksana notices a slight venom to her voice. "Which one?"

"Aidar Battalion."

Yuliya bursts out laughing, a somewhat bitter laugh. Her laughter has a unique noise, and even though it's not particularly happy, Oksana still feels the burn of a contagious smile on her lips. It takes the taller woman few moments to gather her bearings, shaking against the kitchen counter. Oksana feels tense, and she scowls at Yuliya as the woman glances over with a ruddy face.

"What's fucking funny about that?" Oksana sniffs, crossing her arms. A nagging voice in her head is screaming that the woman isn't taking her military service seriously, that she's looking down on her for volunteering instead of just staying with the Army and being complacent with shit jobs far from the frontlines.

"It's nothing…" Yuliya shakes her head, the smile fading from her face. Her voice seems overwhelmingly bitter. "Just that… If you told me a year ago that I'd be friendly with a volunteer from the Aidar Battalion… I would've told you that you were out of your fucking mind…!"

Oksana blinks, and her face softens somewhat. Bdzi flies over to her owner, spinning around her curiously, a frown visible on her tiny face.

"Why?" she asks, eyes wide in curiosity. Yuliya smiles sadly, shaking her head. She opens the fridge and pulls out a Coca-Cola can, cracking it open.

"I worked with them," the woman explains, and Oksana watches Yuliya's lip curl into a sneer. "On the battlefield… A lot of them were absolutely batshit insane. Babbling on about 'bringing the fight to Kyiv'... whatever the fuck that meant. Also… they were assholes to the actual personnel there, like me… called us… fuckin' 'Poroshenko's dogs', and said there should be.. a military coup… replacing him with a leader… no, no, no… he told me a dictator! A fuckin' dictator… who supported military ideals."

"Said that straight to my fucking face…! Said that shit straight to me... and my brother! Two people… who were born here… because my mother fled Iraq… When the government was overthrown by a coup… and replaced with… guess what… a fucking dictator! I should've broken his nose… honestly."

Yuliya takes a long drink of her soda, gasping after.

"Worst of all…" she sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "They'd target the two of us… specifically. I think… I think you… know why. They… would… would refer to me as an 'ISIS bitch', said… that all Muslim women were slaves. That if we were on the wrong side of the battlefield… they would've killed us already. That we were… trained by al-Qaeda and were secret 'jihadis'... ready to strike at any time."

"I cannot… describe how much hearing that hurt me. Made me angry. My people… are being murdered left, right, and center by both of those groups… and yet we're being compared to them… because we have the same religion… and a similar skin tone…"

Yuliya trails off and takes another sip of her soda. Her expression changes from anger to resignation, staring blankly at the former Aidar paratrooper. Oksana finds herself choking on the apologies she wants to say, the comforting words she could give to the woman, in some attempt to make up for it all.

Finally, the words come out.

"I-I… I'm sorry that they said that to you," Oksana stammers, fidgeting with her fingers. Yuliya looks up at her with surprise in her eyes. "You… you were fighting with them, risking your life for them, and they had no right to insult you like that!"

"Apology accepted," Yuliya hums, returning to the stew boiling in a large metal pot. "I didn't have to work with them all the time... and my comrades were fine with us and didn't say that sort of shit to us…"

Yuliya shrugs, and Bdzi pats her owner's cheek softly.

"And besides," she smiles, warmth back in her eyes. "You don't really need to apologize... I already know that you're different than them."

"Really?" Oksana says, blinking in shock. Volo tugs on her pant leg with his teeth, and she gently pushes him away. "How?"

"Well… If you were like them… you probably would've like… punched me in the face after I saluted you," Yuliya explains, stirring the stew. "Or told me that you thought my people were all terrorists and that I was the only 'good one' afterward… Something stupid."

"But, you didn't... You actually talked to me like... an actual human being! And, y'know, gave a fuck about me… and my brother…"

"Also," Yuliya points her finger back at Oksana, accentuating her point. "I doubt one of those idiots would bother to try and learn about my faith… unlike you. If I mentioned Ramadan or going to a mosque... they'd probably burst into flames."

Oksana laughs, and Yuliya joins in, her shoulders shaking. Looking at Yuliya as she giggles loudly, Oksana finds herself gawking at the woman. She seems so… young when she's smiling, like she's just a high schooler, and they're talking about music or school or something. Her dark eyes crinkle when she laughs hard, and there's a slight pink flush across her cheeks, that fits well with her complexion. She cannot help but stare at Yuliya as she returns to her food.

"Have you been to the Middle East?" she asks, and Yuliya appears to soften a little.

"Mmm…" Yuliya hums, pouring soup into two bowls. "I went to Iraq once… a few years ago. My uncle was dying… and my mother wanted to see him… one last time. It was very sad… but it was nice to go... I guess. Like... it was part of my history..."

"What part of Iraq?" Oksana asks, tapping her chin. Volo stands on his hind legs and sniffs the air.

"Ain Sifni… towards the north."

"Oh. Well, I went to Iraq," Oksana says, and Yuliya looks over at her, her mouth taut. "I went with a brigade to Kut about… er, twelve years ago… Christ, has it really been that long? Feels like it was just last month..."

"Mmm," she says, a small smile on her lips. "Nope, never been there. That's by Baghdad, right?"

Oksana nods, as Yuliya places a bowl of tomato-and-lamb soup in front of her, the reddish-orange broth full of green cucumbers and yellow peppers. The scent floating through the air makes her mouth water.

"You like it?" Yuliya smiles softly, sitting down beside her. "'s called Meftûna Bacanan, mama used to make it for dinner when I was little."

Oksana thanks her almost silently, and the two stay silent as they eat lunch. Yuliya seems stiff as she eats like she's bracing herself before jumping into an icy river. Guilt sears through Oksana's stomach, and she distracts herself by looking over at Bdzi, who is looking at the politician with big, curious eyes as she floats nearby, but not close to her. Cautious, Oksana notes with a smile, just like her owner.

After the two are done eating, and Yuliya slowly and methodically cleans the dishes, Oksana sets her phone on the table and clicks into the voice recorder as the former soldier sits down. Her face is tight with stress, and she shakes her hands out quickly before placing them on the table. Why do I have to do this, Oksana asks herself, why do I have to make her suffer again?

Nevertheless, she presses the red record button.

"So," Oksana starts, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "On November twelfth, last year, your brigade was fired upon by unknown mercenaries in Alchevsk. Correct?"

"Yes," Yuliya nods, her voice thin. "That is correct.'

"This attack ended with three of your comrades dead, Fedir Adamchuk, Borys Voloshyn, and Ivan Dzubenko. Correct?"

"Yes."

Oksana swallows painfully and looks down at Volo, who looks at her with big brown eyes, before looking back up at Yuliya.

"You and your brother, Major Amir Bousaid were captured after the firefight, correct?"

Another yes from Yuliya, and she watches as the former soldier swallows a lump.

"Can you describe what happened that morning?"

Yuliya sighs, adjusting her turtleneck with her hand, before continuing.

"It was… just a normal lookout mission. We'd brought a few things... my Dragunov, a couple of rifles for the rest of my brigade… Nazar, our usual superior… had called out. Said that he had a bad head cold. Couldn't focus on anything. My brother, Amir, was sent with us instead…"

"There was… an abandoned house nearby. Recently abandoned… still, there was furniture and stuff left behind, but a hole in the roof from an earlier mortar attack. Amir decided to use it as a temporary base for us, and tasked me with moving our bags in there… So, that's what I did… and… that's how I… survived."

"We… hadn't expected an attack. Our commanders told us that the separatists had withdrawn from this part of Achelvisk… we didn't view this as seriously as we… should have. I was putting a bag of rations by a cabinet when I heard that big 'BANG' noise when a mortar hits the ground, and felt the ground shake with the impact. I fell forward into the glass cabinet, and sliced my hand open as I caught myself. After that, I ran out of the house… screaming my comrade's names…"

"What did you find?"

Yuliya's face contorts, trying to hold back tears. Her voice comes out short and choking with regret.

"I… I… Fedir was the first one I… f-found. He was… there wasn't… anything… left to s-save. All I remember is just… limbs… ripped from his body, his body up… against the wall of the… house, and blank… eyes."

"Ivan… and Borys… were directly in the blast zone… They were… practically nothing. Just… gore on the grass, torn limbs, bone, tattered… clothes… Murkrow were... already ripping at what little... remained. I vomited after seeing them… I'd lost people before… some of my closest friends… but not like this. Back then... I wasn't the… only one really left."

"My brother… Major Amir, laid on the grass, far from the general blast area. I… feared the worst, and I ran over to him… trying not to cry. But… he sat up… when I ran towards him. He had… minor lacerations on his legs, and his fingers on his left hand looked seriously damaged, but he'd made a little tourniquet out of his torn jacket... and was smiling weakly up at me with bright but pained eyes..."

"I hugged him tight out of… relief, and asked him what happened. He said: 'It happened so fast, I don't know,' then smiled... and joked 'they tried to get us, but us Bousaids need more than a measly mortar to kill us!'"

"I don't think he saw that the rest of our squadron was dead," she sighs, running her hands through her ponytail. "If he did… he wouldn't be joking."

"Anyways, I stood him up... trying to walk him over to the house... so I could send out a call for backup... Halfway there... I... heard the hum of an engine, and looked up… to see a gigantic military truck driving towards us... and I sat Amir down… ran over to… where he had been… grabbed his Fort-221… and waited for the truck to stop."

"When the truck finally did stop… a foot away… and the people got out… soldier looking folks… wearing dark uniforms… with rifles in their hands. As they got close… I opened fire."

"I got two of them in the head... one in the chest… one in the shoulder… and that was it. The gun jammed soon after... and as... I was trying to clear the chamber, one of the remaining three sucker-punched me in the jaw."

"When I… hit the ground… the remaining men grabbed my arms… and I heard my brother… scream in agony. I screamed his name, trying to wriggle my way out… as I was dragged towards the truck. The men chattered in English amongst themselves… today the words taunt me... unable to be translated…"

"What did the men look like?" Oksana asks, her voice faint. She coughs softly, trying to adjust her throat.

"All of them were Caucasian, one had dark hair, one had light blonde hair… The blonde had a thin face with watery blue eyes, muscular frame… The dark-haired man had a square face and thin… green eyes that looked down at me no matter what I did… a little thinner than his friend, though."

"So, what happened next?"

"I was… slammed in the back of the truck. The doors... shut for a… few m-moments… before Amir… was thrown in too. He was… unconscious. A-Alive, b-but unmoving… eyes shut… Unresponsive. I howled like a caged pokemon… banging my fists on the doors… until they opened."

"I… was dragged out again… and my uniform sleeve was rolled up... and the dark-haired man stuck a needle in my arm… and took my blood. I… remember spitting straight in his face… as he went back to do… whatever. After that, he injected some sort of… purplish liquid into my arm… and then… I was thrown back in."

"I… I… tried my best to fight it… as the truck started to move. I thought of my parents… My brother... My comrades… But… whatever they injected me with… overpowered me. It made my eyes droop… and my body heavy… and soon… I-I was unconscious as well…"

Oksana practically crushes her phone when she hits the stop button, causing Yuliya to gasp lowly. The politician wipes her eyes, tears burning at her eyes, and she feels the soldier grasp her hand.

"Are… you alright... Oksana…?"

"I'm fine," Oksana whispers, but Yuliya still looks at her in concern. "I'm fine, I swear. I just think that that's enough storytelling for today..."

"You… don't look fine," the woman sighs, and Oksana feels a bright red urge to tell her off, that Yuliya should stop prodding her. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yeah," she says, rubbing at her eyes. Yuliya stands up slowly, and walks over to the fridge, enough time for Oksana to gather herself.

She shouldn't cry in front of Yuliya, she needs someone strong, someone to lean on. She doesn't need her problems. Doesn't need her temper, doesn't need her scars, doesn't need anything but the illusion of a sturdy, righteous politician.

So, when Yuliya comes out with a large, clear bottle of vodka, Oksana takes a sip from it to clear her mind, placing it on the table with a loud thud, and gasps as the vodka burns at her throat.

Then, she takes another sip.

Then, after that, another.

Oksana drinks until her vision goes blurry, until Yuliya has to grab her to help her stand up, fear and anxiety in her eyes, and Oksana giggles despite herself because, suddenly, she's so cute. The woman yanks the bottle from her as she reaches for it again, her mouth taut and brows furrowing.

"You've had too much…" Yuliya sniffs, placing the bottle in the fridge despite Oksana's whining and pawing at her breasts. "You're utterly… smashed, Oksana."

"C'monnnn Yules!" the politician whimpers, tugging at the neck of Yuliya's sweater. "One m-more sip, please!"

"No!" Yuliya shouts, her voice sharp. The familiar stammer in her voice is gone. Volo peeks at her from behind the counter, his eyes wide, and Bdzi chatters disapprovingly. "No more! You've had enough!"

Oksana winces at her volume, and feels a mixture of shock and some sort of searing feeling in her belly that makes her feel needy and dirty. She stumbles backwards, hand scrabbling for the granite countertop, and she glares at Yuliya.

"Fine," she growls, pouting at a still stern looking Yuliya. "I'll juuust leave…! Go b-back to my house, where there aren't any Yuliya's to tell me to stop!"

Yuliya's face drops, and she reaches a hand out to her, but Oksana swats it away.

"You shouldn't… go alone," she says softly, eyes wide. "You're drunk."

"'m not drunk!" Oksana howls, crossing her arms. She grabs her coat violently, almost causing the rack to tip over. Raffu squawks at her angrily, banging his talons against the cupboard with a loud thwack-thwack-thwack noise.

She storms out of Yuliya's apartment, ignoring Yuliya's shouts of protest and Volo's barking, and makes a beeline for the elevator, the best she can with stumbling feet. When she finally gets into the elevator, she leans against the rail and thinks about Yuliya.

At first, she thought about how unfair it was that Yuliya took away her drinks, instead of letting her have a good time. What a buzzkill, couldn't she see that she was just having fun? That she tried to salvage the mood? What was her problem, anyways? Little fucking bitch!

But, as the door slides open, and she stumbles out into the lobby, her head feeling like a lead weight, her thoughts soften. She thinks of the woman's smile, bright and childish, her eyes crinkling and the dimples on her cheeks showing. It's tiny, and she can barely feel it, but Oksana thinks she feels the flickering of something warm inside her gut, as she walks out of the apartment complex and into the cold Kiev night. Oksana squints at the clear night sky, briefly pulling herself from her thoughts. When did it get this late…? No matter.

Yuliya falls into her thoughts again, and Oksana feels that happy spark in her stomach again. It feels like something or someone's pulling the two of them close, and tugging at Oksana to move her feet. Thoughts of running towards the apartment pop into her mind, as she stands aimlessly by some sort of alleyway between two somewhat rundown apartments, trying not to tip over. Some woman's eevee sniffs at her almost pretentiously as they walk past, and Oksana almost flips the little fox-cat-thing off before shaking her head. Not worth it.

Yuliya didn't seem that upset, in the end… Just… showed concern. And who could blame her! She'd been in the military, after all! She'd seen people wasted before, and was being… cautious. Protective, even. Oksana shouldn't have blown up at her, and probably should go get Volo back.

Oksana probably could just apologize to Yuliya, charm her, convince her that she isn't drunk, have some more drinks and just stay over at her place. There was no need for her to walk all the way back to her house, really. Just… talk to her! It's as simple as that.

('Maybe you'll get something more physical in the end,' a low voice in her head whispers in a sing-song tone.)

('No, shut up, you aren't like that,' she responds.)

However, she doesn't get a chance to turn back.

Oksana's still not quite sure of what happens next. As she turns back to stumble to Yuliya's apartment, she feels someone's arms wrap around her midsection and tug her backward sharply. She falls on the pavement face first, the stone digging into the palms of her hands as she catches herself on the ground before she could slam her head into it. Before she could contemplate or maybe laugh at how clumsy she is, she feels herself moving forward on the ground, unknown hands wrapping around her shoulders. Oksana's blood runs cold, and she thrashes, and shouts, trying to swing her fists around to get at them. She hears a male voice chuckle, and then:

"Don't bother, dear. No one can save you."

The voice is thick, and Oksana can tell, even in her drunken state, that this man is unfamiliar with Ukrainian, the language strange on his tongue, and she thinks briefly of Yuliya's story from earlier. Panic runs through her blood, and she shouts again, and thrashes harder. The voice snarls and slams his foot into her shoulder, causing her to yowl in pain.

As she reels forward, hand clutching at her shirt, she hears the click of a pokeball opening, and sees a stream of white light form into a wolf shape, and Oksana can barely make out its blue-and-yellow coloring between brief flashes of electricity, and she feels her throat close up.

"N-No," she babbles in a high voice, skittering backward on her hands as she shakes, looking at the manectric with fearful eyes as it growls lowly at her, and she hears the familiar hum of electricity coming from its mane. "Oh no, no, no, no please not again, please please please [B]PLEASE[/B]!"

"Oh dear," the voice lits, horrifyingly cheerful in tone. "They told me that you were supposed to be the difficult one, and yet, the instant you see a manectric, you're a sobbing mess… Pity…"

If this had been a normal situation, if Oksana wasn't being stared down by the same kind of pokemon used to torture her in captivity, she would've told him to eat sh*t and die, and probably would've spat in his face.

However, all Oksana can bring herself to do is heave weakly, and feel the warm tears rolling down her face as she shakes.

"I guess our dear friend, Thaelab, has rubbed off on you some, hasn't she?"

"T...Thaelab?" Oksana asks, her voice shaking and small, like a child.

The voice doesn't explain, but keeps on talking, his voice cheery, like a children's television presenter:

"You two have been a lot of fun to watch," he laughs, and Oksana wants to throw up right then and there. Preferably on his shoes. "Seeing our Thaelab finally make some company after being alone for so long warmed my heart, and you two have bonded so quickly!"

"How did you…?" Oksana whispers, and the voice giggles almost childishly.

"That's a secret for a different time, Oksana Tymoshenko," the voice says, not losing its sing-song tone. "But, while you got close to our friend, you've heard too much from her, and dug your little snout too deep into our business!"

Oksana shakes her head rapidly, skittering backward. The manectric charges forwards, and she stops moving, closing her eyes tight.

"We were originally going to blow your brains out, like any other weasel, but that'd be such a waste," the voice continues, and Oksana lets out a squeaky cry of distress. "You're a prominent figure in Ukraine, you're so close to our dear Thaelab, our most important asset, and you're also strong enough to be an asset like her, too!"

Suddenly, the voice wrenches her left arm down, forcing her jacket off and her shirt sleeves up, and Oksana doesn't struggle, eyeing the manetric standing above her. A few seconds after, she feels the prick of a needle as it enters her skin. The voice removes the needle after a moment, and Oksana glances up at him, or rather, where she thinks he'll be.

"W-What are you g-going to do with me?" she asks, hoping that he can see the pleading look on her face.

"You're going to become useful to us, dear," he smiles, and Oksana feels another needle prick her right arm, and suddenly, she knows what's happening to her, and she screams loudly.

"Shut up!" the voice hisses, losing his cool as he removes the needle. The manectric growls loudly, and she can smell the crackle and burn of electricity in the air. Oksana sits up, trying to resist the drug in her veins, even though she can't feel it. She has to win over this, for Yuliya's sake. "Shut your fucking mouth, or I'll make you regret it!"

Oksana is about to say something, before she hears the quick crunch of footsteps approach her, and stand above her head. The person above her is near silent, but Oksana can see the blinding white light of a flashlight by the person's black combat boots and hears the click of a pistol's safety turning off.

"Get out," Yuliya says sternly, and Oksana can barely make the shape of the former soldier pointing a Makarov pistol straight at the man's head, and now, Oksana can somewhat see him. His face is sharp, with a wavy haircut reaching to his ears. He's wearing what looks like a dress shirt and long pants, but she honestly can't tell.

"Oh, Yuliya!" he says, somewhat nervously, and he reaches for the manectric's pokeball, and retrieves it, causing Oksana to relax, and a wave of exhaustion to pass over her. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Get out, or I'll blow your fucking brains out," Yuliya says sternly, but completely calm. Oksana shivers at her tone, a mixture of fear and some nascent form of… attraction? She shakes the feeling away. Must be the drugs, that's all.

"Oh come on, dear," he continues, walking forward. "You're overreacting. Just leave us be."

"I think I've seen enough," Yuliya hisses, and her finger twitches on the trigger. "Get the fuck away from Oksana, and scram."

"You know, Yuliya," the voice smiles, as he stands up, and steps back. "Your brother misses you so. He says that he wishes that he could be fighting for us alongside you."

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" Yuliya screams, and Oksana watches as the man practically bolts away, towards the far end of the alleyway. The woman above her pants angrily, before turning the safety on again, and putting the pistol away. Oksana reaches up weakly, exhaustion taking hold over her, and wraps her arms around Yuliya's abdomen, and cuddles up against her, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. Yuliya pets her hair softly, and the politician makes a noise somewhere between a chirp and a purr. Her head feels heavy with exhaustion, mind becoming fuzzy, and her limbs feel like lead weights barely being held together.

"Yules…" she slurs, looking up at the woman, whose face is contorting is sadness and anger. "'m sorry."

"I… know…" Yuliya smiles weakly, standing Oksana up before the politician loses her balance, and flumps against her shoulder. "Sana?"

"He got me," Oksana says weakly, and sniffles. She cries weakly against Yuliya's stomach.

"What do you mean?" Yuliya asks, her voice suddenly higher in tone, and Oksana feels her body start to shake.

"Injected me… 'Think I'm the same as you… Yules."

And with that, she blacks out.