25th rebirth [RL with Russia; forward-dated to, uh, idek]

[dormition]

[It was some days after Ivan's post that it occurred to Minato that he might not be posting simply because he couldn't. So, armed with a laptop - something that had cost him the last of his funds from his job with Kanzeon, who had disappeared from the community, a fact he in turn had kept from his friends - he made his way to Stalingrad

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[dormition]

I'm glad.

[And he is, but he doesn't let go, watching him intently. He's still so bloody. Minato knows the war doesn't get any easier after Stalingrad - winning doesn't mean there aren't losses. As long as Ivan has a better outlook, he'll count it a victory, too.

But laying on the ground, staring at the sky, does nothing but vaguely worry him.]

[insovietme]

[He shakes his head. Just a little. Everything is little, like the dim stars above. They still shine, through the smoke. And so will he, through the smoke. Tomorrow. He shakes his head again, because he forgot what he meant to say. He inspects the gloved hand that's on his heart. Blood all over it, but stuck there. But diluted. Nothing but another stain, to be removed in the wash.]

It's not all mine.

[dormition]

I don't care, [he said in a low voice, uncharacteristically fervent.] You shouldn't be hurt at all.

[insovietme]

Winning the war won't change that.

[He replies in a bright, brittle, all too high voice.]

[dormition]

I know. I can't change history. [But some part of him feels that he should be able to, that he has to, and he looks down and away to avoid that.

It's a few long moments later that he relinquishes his white-knuckle grip on Ivan's coat and stands. He offers his hand down to him.]

Come on. You can at least clean up.