Fate

It's so sad when things don't go as we hope. But when do things truly go as we want them to? Even if you work hard and do your best to achieve them, and even if you succeed in the end, perhaps you attain them because it was your destiny, not necessarily because of your hard work.

This was Yuriy's realization in the heart-wrenching moment he saw his mother's lifeless body before him. Despite his best efforts to care for her, she had passed away. He had even pursued his dream of becoming a professional player, mainly to remain close to her while he worked. But things hadn't gone as he had hoped. Her health deteriorated after receiving the last shot, significantly weakening her immunity until she succumbed.

In a rushed tone, a woman nearby asked, "Yuriy, where have you been?"

The older woman, who evidently knew Yuriy's family well, wept as if she were part of his family or perhaps an important figure in his life. It was clear that Yuriy's mother was dear to her. Indeed, she was a cherished friend from the neighborhood.

Yuriy was at a loss for words, staring in shock so profound that he felt unable to speak, see, or feel.

It was as if his brain was trying to shield him from the traumatic scene before him, sparing him from the immediate shock. Eventually, he collapsed, no longer conscious.

A few days after the incident, Yuriy experienced one of the most challenging times of his life. His mother meant everything to him, and now she was gone. Since other members of his family had passed away a long time ago, she was the last precious person he had left. This was why he had clung so tightly to being good to her, and now she was no more.

Since then, he never left his house. He lived off canned food and watched anime all day, without engaging in any other activities. His depression deepened to the point where he even lost his passion for playing video games. It felt as if when his mother died, she took his passion with her.

To elaborate further, he differed from those obsessive players who took video games too seriously. He was a smart, regular individual who simply enjoyed playing video games in his spare time. However, when situations with his mom began to become complex, he considered becoming a streamer for easy money. He started honing his gaming skills by analyzing the gameplay of other players and passionately challenging them.

Days passed, and nothing changed: depressed blue eyes, a body that hadn't showered in a long time, and an overwhelming pain to bear.

Yuriy's health began to deteriorate due to his depression and the unhealthy food he consumed repeatedly. His physique weakened, and his will to live started to wane.

He's alone now, with no purpose to live for and no one to share his life with. He's merely existing, alive in body but dead in spirit.

Until that defining moment arose. A moment of life? Perhaps it's better described as the moment that shifted the norm.

Yuriy can no longer shed tears; his eyes remain dry, his muscles can't move, and he's consumed his last can of food.

Perhaps he's chosen to let fate play its role, as it has before. Can one escape it though? If destiny chose to claim his life as it did with his family, is there any way out? No, there is no escape.

‘My destiny is to join my departed family.’

Suddenly...

Destiny erupted.

With forceful knocks at the door, Yuriy was jolted awake. The intensity of the knocks suggested something out of the ordinary. Why would someone knock in such a manner? It wasn't a spoken question, but a thought that crossed Yuriy's mind.

"Open the door!"

A commanding voice echoed from outside, just beyond the house door. Yuriy struggled to his feet, but eventually managed. Once upright, he began moving slowly towards the door, each step more unstable than the last.

"We know you are inside, please open the door."

Yuriy tried his hardest, but reaching the door was a great challenge for him. His slowness tested the patience of whoever was on the other side, until they forced it open, shattering the handle.

Crash, Crash

...

"You there, are you Yuriy Kozlov?"

Yuriy lifted his head, gazing at the people before him with the vacant stare of someone who's emotionally drained. His expression seemed to silently ask, 'Can you repeat that? Who are you?' In front of his house, a crowd had gathered, filling the front yard. Had depression not clouded his vision, Yuriy would have easily recognized them.

They weren't neighbors or people he knew closely, but anyone could recognize them from their distinctive uniforms. Yes, those military uniforms that even children could recognize.

When Yuriy couldn't muster the strength to move his numb lips for a proper response, one of the military men approached him, fixing him with a stern gaze. He then grabbed Yuriy firmly by both arms and said, "Let me check if he's on drugs." Another soldier retorted, "Are you being dense, Vasyl? Did you skip the report again? The man just lost his mother. This is exactly how someone who's recently lost a loved one looks." The soldier, who was only a few years older than Yuriy and named Vasyl, replied in a dismissive tone, "Yeah, yeah, but that doesn't rule out him being on drugs."

Suddenly, out of the blue, Yuriy mustered the strength to forcefully push the guy who had grabbed him, exclaiming loudly, "I'm not on drugs, and why the hell are you in my house?"

The army personnel, most of whom were hiding their faces with masks, took a few steps back, giving some space to the confused young man. All of them felt guilty for intruding into this distraught young man's space, but it seemed they were ordered to do so.

Someone needed to explain the situation to Yuriy, to clarify why they were there. With that in mind, a young soldier, who had been holding his rifle with both hands, secured it behind his back. He then began to slowly remove his mask. As he took a few steps towards Yuriy, he offered a warm smile. His gentle facial features suggested that he was the understanding type.

"Your name is Yuriy, isn't it? I'm Vladyslav Novikov, a soldier from our country's army. We strive to protect civilians – those who need care and safety, just like you. I hope we didn't upset you with our sudden visit. We've heard about the tragedy that took place in this house: a brave father who died for the sake of the country and a mother who became a casualty of war. It must be incredibly painful, but you mustn't lose hope. The world doesn't end here." Vladyslav gently placed his hand on Yuriy's arm, continuing in a soothing tone: "The world never revolved solely around a mother or father, nor just a family. There's still so much for you to experience: forming new bonds, meeting people who might play significant roles in a bright future. These relationships can be even more profound than familial ones, offering a renewed purpose in life. Don't you want that? A new reason to live?"

With a tone of anger, Yuriy interrupted, "Cut it out... What are you babbling about? A bond stronger than family? What kind of nonsense are you spouting? How can anyone ever take the place of a mother in one's heart? How can you trust someone as deeply as you trust a father, who would never betray you? Just stop with this pointless talk and leave my house immediately. I won't be swayed by your words, and I have nothing to offer. I'm useless to everyone."

The people surrounding Yuriy continued to gaze at him with pitying looks. Many of them understood all too well what it meant to lose a loved one. However, they didn't agree with Yuriy's perspective. Most of them sided with Vladyslav, the soldier with the gentle face. Perhaps because they had witnessed things in the war that Yuriy was unaware of, experiences that gave them a deeper understanding of how non-familial relationships can be profound.

Yuriy decided to retreat to his room after instructing the soldiers to leave him be and not to disturb him further. But destiny had other plans, seemingly forcing a new direction upon Yuriy. The distinct sound of footsteps echoed around the house – the unmistakable sound of high heels, likely worn by a woman, perhaps a young one. She halted his movement with a soft utterance, "You."

Slowly, Yuriy turned around. He struggled to focus on the person who had called out to him. But when he laid eyes on her, something within him seemed to spark. His eyes widened as they took in the angelic beauty standing before him.

With long, silky blonde hair cascading down, her perfume captivated everyone present. Her fair complexion was almost intimidating to behold directly, and her blue eyes rivaled the beauty of the sky. That flawless figure gave Yuriy a glimmer of hope, especially if he heeded the words of those around him.

The soldiers were puzzled by the young woman's entrance. Their bravado had them commenting, "It's Miss Anastasia Romanova. Why did you bother coming here, madame? We assured you we'd handle this without troubling you."

However, the young woman seemed to ignore their comments, fully aware of Yuriy's state of mind. She knew that altering his perspective wouldn't be straightforward. She wasn't there merely to persuade Yuriy to join the group before him; rather, she was like a trump card played by destiny, intended to compel him to their side.

Indeed, everything became clear from the icy glares the young woman directed at Yuriy, particularly underscored by her recent action: with a swift motion of her hand, she pointed a gun directly at his head.

In a cold tone, she began her monologue, "Listen closely, you disoriented piece of trash. Whether your mother is dead or not, it doesn't change the fact that we have every right to end your existence right now."

Everyone around the Recruitment Officer, named Anastasia, tried to calm her down. They were aware of Yuri's state, so they suggested she approach the situation more gently. However, Anastasia chose to stand by her decisions. Yuri's facial expressions shifted as he heard the stern tone from the young girl, a demeanor she usually assumed after dispersing a crowd. He took a defensive stance, placing a palm against the wall, and asked in a cautious tone, "What did you mean by those last words?"

The young woman spoke in a low voice, yet maintained her typical icy tone, ensuring her words were clear, convincing, and easily understood by Yuriy. She stated, "Citizen Yuriy Kozlov, we are well aware of your betrayal to your country. Over the past few months, you've been playing a popular online game with players from the enemy nation. Without any sense of guilt, you've been climbing the ranks alongside them, using them as a crutch to reach the game's highest rank. Imagine if you began a streaming career and your compatriots learned that you've formed a team with the enemy. What would you do? Don't you feel any remorse?"

Yuriy clenched his fists, ready to defend his choices. He responded, "What are you talking about? Those people I played with never cared about my identity or my real-life circumstances. Our relationship was confined to the game. More importantly, they never viewed me as an enemy. On the contrary, they were always kind to me and never displayed any toxicity, even though I was often the reason for many of the team's losing streaks. I cannot consider those people as enemies."

With a sly smile, the young girl, Anastasia, replied, "Is that so? If you're so confident in your words and won't back down, even in the face of certain death looming over you, perhaps you should simply accept it."

Anastasia readied the gun in her right hand, prepared to send a bullet through Yuriy’s head.

“M-Miss Anastasia, this is quite dangerous.”

The deadly stare from Anastasia was enough to instill a profound fear of death in Yuriy. Realizing the gravity of her intent, he diminished his defiance and decided to submit to the whims of fate.