⧗ CHAPTER TWELVE ⧗
Dmitri missed West Virginia.
He knew he shouldn't. He knew the Red Room was his home. At eight years old, it was all he knew (except for the "holidays" with his mother, which were not to be spoken of).
A memory. Ten years ago, and how little had changed.
The Red Room had seemed bigger at that age, though Dmitri had just been smaller. Hugging his arms to his chest, missing his dinosaur toy. They had to leave it behind when the mission was over. Yara — no, Yelena — had tucked the little green dinosaur with orange spots, into the bed of the house they would never return to.
"He's going to sleep now." Yelena had told him as they made their last good-byes to that old bungalow, to the misty purple mountains around them. "Say night-night."
"Night-night, Mr. Longneck," Dmitri could still feel the grief of leaving his favorite toy behind. Yelena had told him to forget about everything in West Virginia. Not even to remember Mr. Longneck's name. But how could he forget? That had been the best time of his life.
The long summer evenings, chasing fireflies under the stars. Running through fields of grass and heather and eating marshmallows around a campfire. It had been warm, muggy even, but Dmitri found himself missing it, now back to sleeping in the cold palace, with its dry filtered air and near-permanent winter outside. It was pretty in the summer, little blades of grass sprouting from the last of the snow. But it hardly sufficed.
Dmitri sat with his sisters now. His other sisters, the one his age, all ten of them side by side at their table. Eating ravenously as soon as the Madame had sat down. Yelena was on the far end of the great hall, sitting with three other girls at the very last table. Dmitri could always find her easily, thanks to that blonde hair, her braids. Unlike Dmitri and his sisters who sat nearly shoulder to shoulder, Yelena and her class sat several feet apart from one another, eating alone.
She usually kept her head down. Rarely looked in his direction. That's how it was when they got back to the Red Room. The older girls were so intimidating, so impressive, and far too cool to associate with some dumb kids. Yet Dmitri stared at her in earnest, every day, hoping she'd look back. Just once.
The air felt tense today. While his sisters were talking excitedly about their next etiquette lesson and the prospect of an actual, real, grown-up tea party, Dmitri heard other whispers from beyond. A big test. A graduation. Was it that time of the year already? The girls at the next table were excitedly whispering about who would pass. Galina was a sure win, but between Kat and Yelena, the odds were unclear.
"I wish we could watch the final test," Sofia sighed next to him, pouting as she dropped her chin into her hand. "It's not fair! Everyone else gets to watch."
"The smaller ones don't get to watch," Sabina pointed out, nodding to the table behind them, the youngest class.
"Yeah, but they're babies," Sofia rolled her eyes. "We're almost grown up!"
"You just don't like math class," Inessa snickered.
"So?" Sofia flushed, embarrassed. "Math class is boring! I bet real Black Widows don't even use a lot of math! I bet there's no math in their final test!"
"If they do have math, then you're definitely not going to graduate," Ksenia teased, and Sofia stuck her tongue out at her.
"I don't want to watch someone do a math test," Dmitri said, but it was only partly a lie. "I bet Yelena is going to graduate."
"What do you know?" Liza demanded, with a scoff. "Just because you got to go on a special trip with her doesn't mean she's the next Black Widow."
"I know!" Dmitri insisted, his hands fisting around his utensils, ears turning pink at the derision. "Yelena's the best there ever was!"
"Not true!" Oksana interjected, leaning in with all the confidence of a girl who knew the absolute truth in the world. Her voice dropped to a whisper, as if speaking the very name might invite a curse upon them all. "Everyone knows the best Black Widow to ever live is Natalia Romanova. It's why we never see her — she's always working!"
They all nodded in unison, a wise understanding. That was all true. To catch a sighting of Romanova was like seeing a shooting star. So rare, yet so exciting. The woman exuded a type of power and confidence that rivaled only the Madame herself. Every girl in the Red Room wanted to grow up to be just like her. And Dmitri, too.
Still, he had great confidence in his prediction. "Yelena will be second-best, then. Just you wait, tomorrow she's going to sit up there with the Madame!"
He pointed to the head table, where the professors and any resident Widows ate together. There were a few present, though the seat Natalia Romanova often sat in was notably empty. His gesture is received with a series of shaking heads and rolling eyes, and when Dmitri looks over at the senior table again, he's startled to find Yelena looking at him.
Their eyes, brown to green, connecting from across the room.
Dmitri jolted slightly. A smile spread across his face automatically, and he lifted his hand to wave. But Yelena had already looked away again, her eyes casting downwards with a sharp turn of her head.
Dmitri's smile fades, hand dropping. Had he done something to make her mad?
He had to speak with her. It's been months now, but Dmitri so badly wanted to apologize or do whatever it was so Yelena would talk to him again. He missed his older sister, he missed what they had in West Virginia. Dmitri knows that what they had before could never happen again. No s'mores. No bedtime stories. But that didn't mean they couldn't still play together or something, from time to time. Right?
They're never supposed to skip class. They always walk single file from one location to another; the first years got an escort, but after that they were trusted to stay together and reach each class on their own, on time. Though they were never really alone, there were monitors and sentries in all corridors, who could help them if they got lost.
It was on the way to their etiquette lesson did Dmitri spot Yelena again, crossing down different hallway, did he take his chance. To split from the line was quite forbidden aside from bathroom breaks, but Dmitri didn't care. They still had a few minutes before the next bell, and he just wanted to talk to Yelena for a moment. His sisters called after him as he ran to catch up to Yelena; he calling to her in turn.
"Yelena!" He had to call more than once before she finally turned around. Nearly ten years his senior, Yelena towered over him, a frowned etched on her face, brow furrowed. Panting, Dmitri skidded to a stop in front of her, holding out his arms. "Yelena! Is it true you're going to graduate?"
"I — yes." Yelena shook her head slightly. "Well, no, not yet, I still have to pass the — what are you doing, Dmitri? You need to go back to class."
"I know, I will!" He assured her, his heart singing with the thrill of finally getting to talk to her again. That Yelena wasn't pushing him away, wasn't blatantly ignoring him again. He bounced on his heels, unable to contain his glee. "I just wanted to see you first! It's been forever! I missed you."
"O-oh," Yelena's eyebrows rose slightly, her voice cracking a little. Her frown melted, and for a second, it almost seemed like she was smiling. "That's… really sweet, Dmitri. I-I missed you too."
"Really?!"
"Ah, yeah," Yelena huffed, a little chuckle, and reached out to give his hair a little ruffle. "We had a lot of fun together, didn't we, Братишка? But you know you're not supposed to talk about that."
"I know, I won't!" Dmitri assured her. He'd kept his promise, never spoke a word of their special vacation to anyone. Not even the Madame. "I just wanted to see you again, that's all. And wish you luck! I just know you're going to graduate."
"Thank you," Yelena smiled softly, yet her eyes flashed with something like pain.
"Afterwards, do you think…" Dmitri almost lost his nerve, yet he couldn't help himself. "After you graduate, do you think we could go on another trip together? Like… before?"
"Oh, Dmitri," Her smile faded, shoulders sagging. And before him, she dropped down to one knee, so they could look eye to eye. "I'm not in charge of that sort of thing, you know that. Things are going to be a lot different if — when — I graduate. I'm sorry, Dmitri. I just don't think it's going to happen again, not without —"
"Yelena? What's going on?" a voice cut through the air like a knife. Both of them went absolutely still, recognizing the Madame instantly. "You're going to be late."
Yelena shot to her feet like a rocket, spinning around to face the Madame approaching from the other end of the hallway. Despite her wearing heels, the Madame had been awfully quiet, neither of them had heard her arrival. "My apologies! I was just, um, helping Dmitri. He got a little lost. That's all."
Dmitri stared at Yelena in shock. Did she just lie to the Madame? Why?
The Madame wore a dark red suit, blue eyes pinning the both of them in place. Yelena stood just in front of Dmitri, and seemed to sidle further in his way as the Madame stepped closer. "Oh? Poor dear. I'm sure someone else can help him find his classroom, Yelena. You have much more important obligations."
"Is it her test?" Dmitri asked, peering around Yelena's leg to look up at the Madame. "Can I go?"
The Madame blinked down at him, a curious smile on her lips. "Go? You want to watch?"
Dmitri didn't see Yelena already shaking her head, grinning as he bounced, "Yes, please! I want to see Yelena pass! I know she's going to."
"Do you, now?" The Madame chuckled, casting a glance at Yelena, who'd suddenly gone very pale. "Well, I don't see why not. A special treat, perhaps. For our favorite little boy."
Our only little boy.
"Should he?" Yelena asked, and winced at the sharp look the Madame gave her. Not angry, but pointed, never to be questioned. Yelena quickly added, "I mean, he's got class, I don't want to interrupt anything."
"Oh, nonsense," the Madame waved a gloved hand, and reached the other down to Dmitri for him to take. "Missing one class won't hurt. Besides, I think this will be a very formative learning experience for him. And I expect you not to disappoint, Yelena."
She bowed her head. "Yes, Madame."
And with that, Yelena led the way, while the Madame followed, Dmitri's hand in hers. Her glove, a pretty white satin, was cool in his hand, gentle and guiding. It was then Dmitri noticed that Yelena wasn't wearing her usual uniform, but her exercise gear, slim pants and a tank top that showed off the muscles in her arms and shoulders. Dmitri wondered if she'd be taking a math test in that kind of clothes. He never had to.
Yelena brought them to a room Dmitri had never been into before. It appeared similar to their training room, with mats and pads everywhere; but this was bigger, with more windows and a lot more people, surrounding the center of the room where the floor was recessed. Like a very small stadium, he thought. While Yelena went right in, the Madame stopped just outside the door, and turned to Dmitri.
"Now, my солнце, this is a very important moment. It is imperative that we do not interrupt what will happen next." She told him, holding up a finger. "You mustn't make a sound, understand? Whatever happens must happen. None of us may interfere, no matter the outcome. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, Madame!" Dmitri replied without hesitation. He'd never disobey an order, especially not from the Madame. Though he couldn't imagine what would happen that would cause him to think of doing such a thing.
Pleased, the Madame smiled and ruffled his hair, before once more leading him inside. The crowd of adults were intimidating, and Dmitri stuck close to the Madame's side as she passed — everyone stepped aside for her until she came upon a front row position. The recessed floor was several feet below them, and that's where Yelena and Kat stood, on either side facing each other. The room was so very quiet. Dmitri saw no desks, no papers, nothing to indicate the kind of test he was used to.
Everyone stood, watching, waiting. So still, like statues, and Dmitri felt so very small and out of place here as the only child.
The Madame raised her chin and spoke, her voice ringing across the silence. "Begin."
At first, nothing happened. Dmitri didn't hear a timer or stopwatch start. Yelena's back was to him, and he saw her tense — just a moment before Kat launched at her, swinging her fist. Yelena dodged, slamming the back of her hand across Kat's face.
It was so sudden, so violent, that Dmitri jumped. The Madame rested a hand on his shoulder, keeping him close, but said nothing as the fight continued. Dmitri was familiar with sparring, his class was just getting started knowing the very basics — punches, kicks, rolls. But they only hit dummies, not each other. And they weren't allowed to hurt each other.
Yelena and Kat weren't playing by those same rules.
The first sign of blood came quickly, when Kat slammed the heel of her palm into Yelena's face, breaking her nose. Blood dripped down, in such vivid redness that it had Dmitri quivering. Only the Madame's gentle shush reminded him not to do or say anything.
Yelena had recovered quickly, wiping at her face and smearing blood across her cheek, before she tackled Kat to the floor.
They kicked and struck and hit harder than Dmitri had ever seen. He didn't think they were supposed to hit that hard — you could hurt yourself, as much as you could hurt someone else. But there was an increasing desperation between the two girls as they sparred, as blood was shed between both of them, spotting the floor, their faces and arms and knuckles showing increasing damage as the minutes dragged on.
Kat delivered a knee to Yelena's gut. Yelena drove her heel into the side of Kat's knee. An elbow to the jaw. An arm around a throat. Body flipped and tossed to the floor. Rolling, dodging, back up, down again, their heavy ragged breathing, the grunts and gasps and cries of pain were all that filled the room.
Dmitri's heart pounded as the fight got increasingly desperates. Blows turned to hair pulling. Punches turned to scratching nails. Headbutts and biting hands. Nothing was off limits now, in a bloody array that had Dmitri realizing that this wasn't a normal spar. Not a spar at all. They were fighting like they hated each other. They were fighting like they wanted to kill.
And he couldn't tell who was winning.
Still, the fight wore on, and with with the biting and scratching came the exhaustion. Kat was tiring quicker, even Dmitri's inexperienced eyes could see that. Lagging behind, slower to react, taking longer to recover. And Yelena could sense that weakness. Even with her own clear exhaustion, she attacked with a new fervor, reserving her strikes and aiming for more critical points. The joints, the gut, the head.
Before, at last, she had Kat on the ground, Yelena's arms locked around her head. Kat screeched something so fearsome it didn't even sound human, legs kicking helplessly as she tried to in vain to throw Yelena off. Her nails dragged bloody scores down Yelena's arms and back, but Yelena didn't release her. And Kat's face was starting to turn blue.
His throat was completely dry, watching them. Kat coughing, Yelena trying to breath through a broken nose, an eye blackened, her lip split. Looking up at the Madame.
Looking up at him.
Tears streaming down her face.
Dmitri had even realized she'd been crying. But her eyes were sharp and bright meeting his, pain and wretched emotion etched across her face. He tried to look away, it was too horrible, too scary, but the Madame's hand came down upon his head, her silk grip turned iron as she forced him to look back again. To watch.
Kat was barely breathing now, her hands dragging slowly against Yelena's arms, tapping weakly, begging for mercy. Her legs twitched, body spasming as she struggled for air.
Above him, the Madame spoke again. "Finish it."
Her hand keeping Dmitri facing forward, unable to look away as Yelena closed her eyes.
And snapped Kat's neck.
The crack echoed in the room, like a gunshot. Kat went limp, arms hitting the mat with a heavy thump. Her legs stopped twitched. As Yelena gently set her down, still weeping, Kat's head rolled on her shoulders, falling at a sick, unnatural angle. Bleeding hands fell upon Kat's face, and closed her eyes.
Then, with a terrible heave, Yelena lifted herself back to her feet, slowly, painfully, as everyone began to clap. Like this was a show. Dmitri couldn't even lift his arms. His hands felt like ice.
She shifted, and limped towards the Madame as she opened her arms to greet her. "My sweet girl. Congratulations."
Yelena said nothing, as the Madame embraced her. Her eyes, filled with tears, met Dmitri's over the Madame's shoulder. Yelena squeezed her eyes shut. When the Madame released her, hands upon her shoulders, she said, "Go get yourself cleaned up. The graduation ceremony will be tonight. Tomorrow, you'll wake up a Black Widow."
Yelena only nodded, stepping back. Dmitri couldn't tear his eyes away from her. "Yelena…?"
She looked down at him. And offered a small, broken smile. Her voice, cracked and tiny. "It's okay, Dmitri. It's over now."
And gave him one last brush through his hair before she turned and limped away.