“Azra?” His voice trembles. It’s not the voice I remember… but it’s still familiar, soft in a way that hurts.
His eyes widened, tracing every bruise, every scar etched into my skin, as if he’s staring at a ghost.
“Kroshka?”
One word.
And all I can do is close my eyes because if I open them again, I’ll cry forever.
He remembers…me?
“It’s you, right? Those eyes... it has to be you…Pleasetell me I’m not dreaming right now.”
I can hardly breathe, it’s been so long, and yet he’s here, in front of me.
“Vik…” He’s so much older now. “It’sme,” I let out, my voice broken and barely recognizable. “I’m alive.”
I am.
I want to cry, not just for the girl I was, but for the boy who used to protect me, who now stares at me as if I’m an apparition.
He stares, struggling to reconcile the fractured pieces of our history. The boy I once knew, my protector, has been replaced by a man: older, and colder. “You’re…” His voice cracks. My Viktor is here. “I thought you weredead.”
I shake my head, probably because I don’t even know how to explain the rage and pain I feel. “I’m— I’m not dead. I was just… And now…” My voice breaks again.
FUCK!. I can’t finish the sentence because if I do, it’s all too real. I wipe my face with the back of my hand, smearing the dirt, the blood from my fight.
This isn’t how I wanted him to see me, not like this. Broken and pathetic.
He rises slowly from his chair, towering over me the way he used to when we were kids, only now he’s something else entirely. He’s aman.
“What happened to you,kroshka?” he asks, and for a moment, the old Viktor is there, the boy who would’ve given his life to protect me even when we were only kids.
Kroshka… It’s been so long since I’ve heard this nickname.
“It’s not my blood, don't worry,” I mutter, trying to keep my voice calm. “I’m here because I need your help. I need to find out who killed them all. I have names, Viktor. But I can’t do it alone.”
His expression darkens, and for a moment, I think he’s going to say no. Then he steps closer, his jaw tight. “You have no idea what you’re asking for, Azra. You think you can just waltz back in and pick up where we left off?” He scoffs, and it hurts because I know he’s right. We’re not kids anymore. This isn’t some childhood game.
“I know, okay, I KNOW!” I snap, my voice cracking under the weight of it all. I’m shaking, stupidly scared to start a new life, but nothing can be worse than the one I already have. “I just got their stuff back from the police. I saw it all. I need answers. Ineed to get out of this life.” I look at him, eyes burning with tears I refuse to let fall. “And you’re the only one who can help me.”
He sighs, dragging a hand through his hair, “Azra, you don’t understand. This world will eat you alive. You won’t come out the same.”
“I wasneverthe same after that night,” I say, my voice quieter now. I almost wish he could see the fire in me, the way these last years have killed me. “I don’t have anything left.”
He shakes his head, but I see the shift in his eyes; he’s already made up his mind. “If I help you, you’ll have to become someone else, Azra. Someone dangerous. You’ll need to train, I’ll give you five years. No shortcuts. You’ll get cover, support, money, but you need to prove to me you can be in this world.”
“Five years? You want me to wait five more years?”
He nods, stepping back like he’s giving me space to breathe. “Five years. Train, become the most dangerous person I’ll know, then come back and we’ll finish this together. When you’re ready, you’ll tell me. I’ll wait.”
I swallow the knot in my throat, knowing what I’m agreeing to. “Fine,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. It feels like a pact, like sealing my fate. “But...I’ll need you to pay for a flight.”
His lips twitched, a soft, almost nostalgic smile, so much warmth. “Whatever you need. Just make sure when you come back, you blow my mind.”
I nod, feeling the last remnants of my childhood slipping away. “Deal.”
As I turn to leave, his voice stops me cold.