I stopped cold. I thought about Ivan.
“Just so you know,” I said, “I don’t have enough on me to turn anyone into a cyborg.”
“……” She didn’t answer.
“If this ends in tears for you, don’t come whining to me.”
“Da <Okay>.” She let out a sigh. I could see it turn to frozen white mist. “Just so long as you don’t beat me, that’s enough…”
“……” This time it was my turn to be quiet. In my pocket, I had my small change. The next day, I would have rubles there.
It was my money. Without question, it belonged to me.
After a long moment, I grunted, “Tsk.”
I accompanied her into the apartment building, which looked like it might collapse at any moment. Now that I thought about it, I’d never been in one of these places except on one of my Janitorial jobs. Let alone with a girl.
Even so, almost immediately I knew exactly what the layout of the place was and where everything was located. Moscow’s communal apartments had only a few kinds of rooms—and just as few types of locks.
It was a cramped space, with nothing but a cot and a kitchen that could hardly have passed for a washroom. Still, it had a small stove in one corner, with a samovar sitting on it.
“It’s not my room,” the girl said with an embarrassed smile. “But I bought this myself.”
I really didn’t care. I shoved the coins at her. She blinked, then took them, a flush coming into her cold cheeks, and nodded.
“Nu, vot <Go ahead>…?”
It was my first kiss. The first time I’d ever made love to a girl. She didn’t really seem to know what to do, but then, neither did I.
We didn’t know how to put on the dried-out “rubber product number two,” and she ended up licking it to help it slide. Somehow, red-faced, we managed to put it on without breaking it.
I’d never felt so awkward in my life, but it was nothing compared to what came after that.
I’d never known that girls were soft, warm, and that they smelled nice. I realized it must be true that they took baths every single day.
Then, for the first time, a girl told me her name while we were in bed.
Stasia.
She whispered it to me as she squirmed beneath me, mewling like a kitten. Her slim arms wrapped around me; I could feel her nails digging into my back. I told her my name, too, while red up to my ears.
I’d never known that telling someone your name could make you feel so warm.
She repeated “Danya, Danya,” in a faint whisper as she spasmed gently beneath me.
I was about to burst, about to pop my cork. Nyet, nyet, a voice said within me, urging me not to. I didn’t lose myself. I gritted my teeth, intent. Because I’d promised her that I would be good to her—not that I knew how to do that.
It was like a dream. It still felt like one, even after I opened my eyes. A dream too good to be true.
It must’ve been, because I could still feel her warmth and her weight in my arms, but she was gone.
—I think I get how Ivan felt.
Still, I knew immediately what I was seeing: light. Morning light, piercing through the window like needles.
It was the first time in my life I’d woken up to sunlight.
Then I realized I was on a cot, and I sat bolt upright.
“Oh, you’re awake, Danya?”
My dream was right there.
Stasia stood in the doorway, clutching a small paper bag. She was wearing a new outfit, not the one-piece she’d had on the day before. Snow had collected on her shoulders, and she was smiling.
“I went to Cherkizovsky Market and did some shopping,” she said. I didn’t even hear her as she added that it had been a long time since she’d ridden the electric tram.
Me—honestly, I don’t remember what I said. I listened stupidly as she told me to hold on for a few minutes, the bedsheets pooled there around me.
As for Stasia, she put on an apron, and in no time at all, she’d started cooking. I caught an aroma that smelled better than anything I’d smelled in my life, and my stomach made itself heard loudly.
“Hee-hee,” she giggled, her voice like the tinkling of a bell.
I just clicked my tongue: “Tsk.”
“Nyet, not quite yet,” she said. “It’ll be ready soon.”
The same word, nyet, but in her mouth, it seemed completely different, like night and day, like a spell.
Then she put bowls of steaming borscht on the table, and it was like magic. “Well? Go ahead.”
“…Sure,” I said slowly.
I think it was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.
I clutched my spoon—I mean literally held it in a death grip—and ate that borscht like a hungry dog. I wish I could have shown it a little more respect, but it had beets and chunks of meat floating in it, and it was delicious. So delicious I could have cried.
Stasia just smiled quietly and ate her borscht with her spoon, refined and gentle.
I finished first. I even had time to simply watch her eat, while I sipped some warm water poured from her precious samovar into a broken teacup.
“Um,” she said, blinking shyly. “Don’t stare at me so hard. It’s embarrassing.”
“Sorry.” I was a bit brusque, but I didn’t know what else to say.
I didn’t have it in me to talk about the previous night. I was afraid that if I did, it might all vanish into thin air.
Instead, something else came to mind. I think I was able to say it because I was calm and full of food and warm. That’s why I didn’t hesitate.
“Hey… Have you got any more borscht?” I asked.
“You want seconds?”
“No.” I shook my head even as Stasia lifted her cute, pale behind out of her seat. “I’ve got a little brother and two little sisters.”
“Oh my,” she said, her eyes going wide. “Konechno!”