Preparatory Cadet Yakov (4)
“Phew… it’s finally over.”
The path back to the dormitory after every last duty of the day. My whole body felt as heavy as waterlogged cotton.
It had begun with the dawn run, then newspaper reading, ideological instruction, weapons drill, and finally the yacheika sessions of self-criticism. The day had stretched so long that it was hard to believe I had only been here two days.
“Yasha! You were seriously cool today…!”
Gailis babbled excitedly beside me.
“Did you see Kuzmin’s face go red? Man, that felt good!”
“Can we drop that already….”
Gailis was still dredging up the contest with Kuzmin from earlier in the day.
“Why? Good things are good! Admit it—you felt pretty satisfied too. Oh, right. When you assembled that Mosin, how did you get the bolt in so fast? Teach me.”
“…Fine. I’ll show you during free time tomorrow, so just walk quietly for once.”
“Aw, come on, now! Just once! Only once!”
Gailis clung to me with a pitiful look.
“We need to wash up and sleep, Gili.”
“One time isn’t hard! Huh? Tomorrow we’ve got tests, and at this rate I’m going to be running twenty laps around the parade ground! We’re in the same yacheika, right? This helps you too. Extra demerits mean trouble for both of us….”
“Haa….”
Did this guy have a motor attached to his mouth?
A fair share of why today felt so exhausting could be laid at Gailis’s feet. And yet I couldn’t quite say I disliked it.
In this place where everything was alien—the era, the uniform, the bunk, even the body I wore—having one ceaseless chatterbox around was less bad than I expected. He was so loud there was no room left for useless brooding.
Still, it’d be nice if he shut up once in a while.
I swallowed the smile that tried to escape. All I wanted was to wash and lie down. That was the only thought in my head.
That was when it happened.
“Yakov Svanidze.”
—Thud, thud, thud.
On the way back to the dormitory, a cluster of figures gathered in one corner called my name.
“Hm?”
I turned toward the voice. Faces and names I didn’t know had stopped me. And the one who stepped out from behind them needed no introduction.
“Kuzmin…?”
“Don’t throw my family name around so freely, Georgian hick.”
“…How do you know where I’m from? And more to the point—why have you been picking fights since earlier?”
“Why? Because you made me look like a complete fool, and now you’re going to pay for it. Besides, our contest isn’t finished yet.”
Kuzmin cracked his knuckles and closed in. The four behind him quietly tightened the circle.
“You got lucky earlier, but there’s no instructor here, no passing cadets.”
Kuzmin’s mouth curled into a grin.
“Forget ideology and rifles. Let’s settle this like men—real skill.”
So that was the goal after all.
Unable to swallow the humiliation from earlier, he meant to take it out on me with numbers. Petty to the core.
I just want to wash up and go to sleep….
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing? Get out of the way!”
Gailis flared up and planted himself in front of me.
“Come to think of it, I owe you one too, don’t I? Rolling in from the Baltic sticks and talking big—who the hell do you think you are!”
“What was that, you little—!”
Gailis raised his fists.
“Fine, come on! I’ll show you what a Riga man’s punch tastes like!”
He settled into a cocky stance.
—Thud.
“Ghk!”
It was over in an instant. Before Gailis could even set his feet, one of the gang drove a fist into his gut. Then they hauled him up by the collar.
“Yasha! Run! I’ll handle this somehow…!”
You’re already finished and still talking about handling things alone….
“Why not run like that hick said? This is your chance. Leave your friend and bolt while you can.”
One of them sneered.
“Or get on your knees and beg. Who knows? We might let you off easy.”
The pack snickered. Gailis, still dangling by the collar, thrashed and shouted.
“Yasha! Forget me and run! Then get the instructors—ghk!”
Forget him? If I ran, they’d just take it out on him alone.
The whole scene was so childish that my reaction lagged, that was all. I had never intended to run, and there was never any other choice.
“Haa….”
I let out a short breath and stepped toward the one holding Gailis.
“Ha, look at this guy. He’s not running?”
“We were about to chase him the second he did—hahaha!”
“Gotta give him credit for guts, at least.”
“…Yeah. This is more fun.”
They’d been yapping since earlier.
—Thud!
The gang threw Gailis to the ground.
—Crunch, crunch.
Bootsteps closed in on me. Kuzmin’s pack fanned out in a crescent, tightening the gap. Trusting their numbers, they looked exactly like a street gang.
“So, how should we fix him up, Valentin?”
The lead one slapped a fist into his palm as he approached.
“Start with the face, or count his ribs first?”
…Let’s see.
I backed away slowly, taking in the surroundings. An open courtyard. With space on every side, being surrounded was only a matter of time. Even if I held the front, the moment my back was exposed I’d end up like Gailis lying there.
This won’t work.
The second the calculation finished, I spun and ran.
“Wha—hey, the bastard’s running!”
“Grab him!”
—Thud-thud, thud, thud-thud-thud!
Urgent footsteps pounded after me. I never looked back.
After a good stretch of running—
“Hah… hah… hahh….”
“Got you, you little rat…!”
They had driven me into a dead corner where the building met the wall. Walls on both sides, a fence at my back, barely room for one or two people to squeeze in.
“Hah… walked right into the mousetrap, didn’t you?”
“All that running and this is where you end up?”
They approached, catching their breath.
“Sorry—I wasn’t running. I was choosing the ground.”
I spoke with my back against the wall, steadying my breath.
Hoo… this way no one gets behind me, and they can’t circle around either.
No matter how hard they pressed with numbers, only one or two could come through this narrow mouth at a time.
“You arrogant little—nowhere left to run and still flapping that mouth!!”
The front man cursed and threw a punch.
—Thud!
“Aaaagh!”
The scream belonged to the one who had swung, not me. In that cramped space, movement was limited. I stepped in with my right foot, seized the incoming wrist, twisted it, and with my free hand locked the shoulder. He howled in pain.
“L-let go…!”
I yanked the arm and slammed him into the corner of the wall.
—Crack!
“Aaaagh!”
—Thud!
“Y-you bastard…!”
The next one shoved his fallen comrade aside and forced his way in. Same result.
—Thud!
“Ghk!”
I slipped the punch and drove an elbow into the exposed ribs; he crumpled with a cry.
—Thud-thud!
“Ugh!”
“Valentin, this guy can actually fight….”
—Thud!
Once the remaining two were down, only Kuzmin stood in front of me.
“Y-you… you’ve been hiding how well you fight too?”
“…I never hid it.”
I took a step toward the rattled Kuzmin. He instinctively retreated and swallowed hard.
That was when it happened.
“In-Instructor! Over here! Kuzmin and his gang are—!”
Gailis’s voice carried from a distance. And the figure who appeared right after was—
“…What exactly is going on here?”
None other than Instructor Savelyev.
“I-Instructor…!”
Kuzmin looked just as startled; his face went white for a moment. Only for a moment. He recovered faster than anyone, walked straight into the sprawl of his beaten friends, and dropped to the ground.
“Instructor! It was him! S… Svanidze jumped us out of nowhere!”
This bastard…?
I was too stunned to speak.
“Look—my comrades are all like this! We were just walking by when he picked a fight for no reason….”
“W-what are you talking about! You started it!”
Gailis shouted, furious.
“Instructor Savelyev! These guys surrounded me and Yasha and threatened us!”
“Hmph. You think my uncle’s going to fall for your lies?”
“Wh… what? Uncle?!”
Savelyev was Kuzmin’s uncle…?
Gailis looked back and forth between Savelyev and Kuzmin in shock.
“Hmm….”
Without changing expression, Savelyev calmly took in the scene. After a moment he spoke in a flat voice.
“Valentin Kuzmin. And… Yakov Svanidze.”
Savelyev’s gaze settled on me.
“Come with me.”
The place Savelyev led us to was a quiet corner of the main school building. He stood motionless in front of a door for a long while. With his back to me and Kuzmin, hands clasped behind him, he finally seemed to reach a decision, turned, and opened his mouth.
“Valentin.”
“Yes, Uncle!”
Kuzmin answered with a bright smile.
“You may go.”
“Yes…! Understood!”
Color returned to Kuzmin’s face. He turned and flashed me a nasty little smirk, then left the building without a second glance, openly laughing at me as he went.
But did Kuzmin know?
That the Savelyev standing right in front of me was swallowing his anger with every ounce of control he had.