Enchanting Nocturnal Promenade -3-

Yuriy took Yulia's hand again, and this time, they both witnessed the perfect conclusion to the exciting evening they had been spending. It was the traditional folk dance, the 'Hopak.' "Look, it's the Hopak dance," Yuriy exclaimed. Yulia responded with tension, "Did you say the Hopak dance?" Yuriy was surprised, "That's strange. It's a well-known folk dance. How could you not know about these famous aspects in most regions of our country?" Suddenly, Yulia's face displayed a mix of annoyance and nervousness. "Actually, I…" Yuriy gazed at her for a moment, choosing silence over delving into the matter. He changed his expression when he noticed her features, opting for a reassuring look. Breaking the atmosphere, he replaced it with a direct explanation, accompanied by a smile, and began to clarify:

"The Hopak dance is a traditional folk dance in our culture. You see, you stand in a circle with the dancers, placing your hands on each other's shoulders, and you follow suit. Then, you execute a series of basic steps that involve jumping, bending, and moving in harmony with the dancers. Ah, there are some special touches where movements are coordinated among the dancers, such as spinning, separating, and hand gestures, to give vitality to the dance. I'm sorry, I may have gone overboard with the explanation."

Suddenly, a wide smile lit up Yulia's face, indicating that she had understood what Yuriy had said. She slipped off her lightweight summer shoe, leaped toward the dancing crowd with the agility of her slim body, covered in the sweat of enthusiasm. Without shame or any inhibition that might deter her from having fun, she began to dance with everyone in her path – young boys, girls, even the elderly. Yuriy, caught up in her fervor, joined in too, becoming part of the dance.

A strange feeling welled up inside Yuriy. Perhaps it was the first time he had experienced such joy throughout his life. Even the video games he played couldn't compete with this overwhelming sentiment through simple means devoid of technology and modern gadgets. It was just spending enjoyable time with someone you don't fear showing your true self to, someone who won't judge you, someone who wears their heart on their sleeve. Perhaps this was what Yuriy had been seeking deep down.

Remember, reality will never be bitter when you're with the right people, whether they're friends or loved ones.

The exhaustion had settled in for both of them, yet they never regretted that night which had momentarily swept away all their worries. They sat together for a while, watching the dancers who still had a long night ahead of them. Yulia burst into a hysterical laughter, saying, "I can't believe this, it must be the best day of my life. I'm starting to believe that my life has been the most boring." Yuriy laughed at Yulia's reaction, finding her infectious laughter too hard to suppress. She joined in, laughing at herself too.

Yuriy gazed at Yulia for a moment and then extended his hand towards her. This made her feel shy, as if she hadn't anticipated his approach. But his arm went past her, reaching for something that had been behind her all along. He plucked it, revealing it to be a daisy flower. He explained in a calm and respectful tone, "Look, it's a type of daisy flower you can only find in this region. A beautiful wild flower with nineteen vibrant and intricate petals, symbolizing our desire for independence from the enemy."

Yulia smiled, finally noticing that Yuriy was quite knowledgeable about intriguing things and enjoyed explaining their nature in detail. She asked curiously, truly eager to understand the reason behind it, "You really know a lot about things I had no idea about. You seem to be someone well-connected to reality. It appears I'll learn a lot from you." Yuriy responded with a smile, "Actually, I'm not quite the type you might think. I used to be an introverted boy who was obsessed with video games when I was younger. My father was worried that I'd turn out like those autistic boys who refuse to engage with reality. He used to make me go out of my room and participate in activities in the outside world, like taking part in plays, festivals, and similar events. That's what made me somewhat resent my father, because he forced me to do things I disliked. But I've come to understand that whatever my father taught me before he passed away was ultimately in my favor."

Yulia fell silent for a moment, then responded, "It seems we're quite similar. We both have struggled with our relationships with our parents. I have something to confide in you. The last time we met, my tears weren't solely because of my mother's passing. Much of it was my longing for her warmth; she was the only one I could truly lean on. My father treats me as if I'm a study machine without emotions. In his eyes, the only path to success is the one he took, considering it the safer route. We're at war, and in his opinion, venturing into unknown paths is risky even if they might lead to success.

Because of this, he demands that I stay home and study constantly. He doesn't grasp my feelings, even though I've tried expressing them gently. I believe he purposely avoids understanding my desires, pressuring me to become just like him. While I haven't opposed him, believing he has my best interests at heart, I sometimes wish for more freedom. Like today, I want to experience life, but my demanding study schedule holds me back. My father's wish is for me to finish my studies quickly so I can take his place in the private hospital he plans to establish in a remote area."

Yuriy responded, "That sounds incredibly restrictive. What's the purpose of studying if you can't enjoy the best moments of your youth? From what you've shared, you don't seem to be affiliated with our military center. So, what brings you here?"

Yulia responded to Yuriy's question, saying, "Actually, my father has given me the opportunity to apply what I've learned, so he brought me to this military center to treat injured soldiers. It's a good chance for me to develop my medical skills." Yuriy fell silent without responding.

Suddenly, Yulia's phone rang in her small bag that she had set aside before the dance began. She turned left and right, trying to locate where she had placed it exactly. "Ah, there it is," she muttered, then she was taken aback when she saw over twenty missed calls from her father. She became quite anxious and didn't know what she should do. She grabbed her bag and quickly began walking. "I'm in trouble."

Yuriy reached out and gently held her arm, reassuringly saying, "It's alright, everything will be fine." Yulia smiled and felt reassured by Yuriy's words. "I'll trust you," she replied.

The two of them returned on the same path they had come from. Yulia felt a bit fearful, as Yuriy noticed a trembling in her arms. Sensing that he needed to do something, Yuriy extended his warm hand towards hers and held it without hesitation. "I told you before, there's no need to be afraid."

Reaching the backyard of the center, the two found refuge under the cover of tree branches. Yet, Yulia's anxiety surged when soldiers aimed torches at them, revealing a figure in a formal suit behind them. "Father? Why are you here?" Yulia exclaimed, her eyes wide in alarm. The man replied, "Yulia, you've been absent for over an hour, and I was urgently summoned. Why?" Yulia hesitated, "I finished treating the injured soldiers, and I just wanted a brief reprieve from my endless lessons." Her father responded with a tone of disappointment, "There's no room for wasted time, Yulia. Every moment is precious for building your future. Imagine if you'd studied during that hour. One day, you might regret the time you didn't make the most of."

Yuriy's fist tightened, realizing the identity of the man. The urge to step in and defend Yulia surged within him, especially after vowing to alleviate her pain. But he hesitated, memories of his own childhood flooding back—times when his father emphasized the importance of studies over leisure. Those stern words, urging him to value time, had etched deep into his memory. "Yuriy, no one understands you better than your father. A father knows best, always aiming for your good," his father had often said. It was a message he hadn't truly grasped until after his father's passing. Now, hearing Yulia's father echo a similar sentiment, the weight of that regret resurfaced. "A father's insight is unparalleled. They see our missteps and try to guide us right. I only understood this depth of care after losing my own father."

Yulia tried reasoning with her father, acutely aware of the impending reprimand for her unpermitted venture away from the center. But the more she pressed her case, the tenser the atmosphere grew. "Father," she implored, "for once in my life, I felt an indescribable joy today. It felt like a weight was lifted from my heart. I needed this." As she said this, she turned to Yuriy, her eyes searching for an ally, hinting at the comfort his presence gave her.

But Yuriy's expression darkened. "Yulia," he began with a seriousness, "I truly think you should heed your father's words." Yulia's face registered shock, a sense of betrayal evident in her eyes. "Why would you say that, Yuriy?" Yuriy continued, "Parents often see our flaws clearer than we do and genuinely want the best for us. It might be wise not to act against your father's aspirations for your future."

Yulia was shocked by what Yuriy said. She had thought that she finally found someone who understood her. "You liar," she exclaimed. Unfortunately, finding herself surrounded by everyone's disapproving looks, she had no choice but to surrender to the situation with a completely broken heart.

Yulia's father approached Yuriy, placing his hand on his shoulder and saying, "Thank you, my son." Then he left the scene with his daughter, whose perspective on things had clearly changed completely since that hurtful moment.