Downtime in Naarajärvi [Complete]

Eevi paused in her slow walk through the streets of Naarajärvi, her crutches crunching softly on the snow beneath them as the voice of Old Lady Katja reached her ears. She turned her head, her curiosity piqued by the woman's confident tone despite her claim of blindness. The cold air bit at Eevi's cheeks, but she barely noticed it, her mind more focused on this peculiar resident.

"Greetings," Eevi replied, her voice careful and measured as she observed the older woman. "Not often you hear someone say they don’t need their sight anymore. Must be something special guiding you, huh?"

There was a teasing lilt in her voice, but it was softened by genuine interest. Something about Katja’s presence intrigued her—an oddity within an already strange town. The Mjölnir pendant around Katja's neck caught Eevi's eye, and she wondered just how deep the old woman’s beliefs ran.

As Eevi spoke, her attention briefly flickered to the Maine Coon approaching them, its large, curious eyes fixed on the interaction. She recognized the cat from earlier, and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"And who’s this little watcher?" Eevi asked, glancing between Katja and the approaching cat. "Seems like we’ve got an audience."

The town felt strange, even more so now with this enigmatic figure before her. But Eevi wasn’t one to shy away from the unusual—if anything, she was drawn to it, perhaps because she herself was an outsider, an oddity in her own right. And there was something about Katja that made Eevi want to probe deeper, to find out what lay beneath those dark sunglasses and cryptic words.

"My sight had...atrophied a long time ago," Katja said, with a smile. "I am Katja. The children affectionately call me 'Katja Wrinkle-skin'. A lot of people see me as a woman addled with age, but I see things. They grant me vision; vision even independent of time. And they even spoke to me about you, stranger. Like him, you're a person out of time, carried in a world that has a short memory."

At first, the Maine Coon was suspicious as she looked at Eevi, as she was always reserved around strangers. But there was a strangeness about Eevi that gave the cat greater pause than most strangers. Nonetheless, as the cat grew acclimated to her presence, she began to rub up against Eevi.

"I look upon you, and I see a pain in that soul that makes me want to weep. Many wars that ravaged this nation started your pain, as they have for many others - my own father lost his life in the Continuation War...that feels like so long ago. I had never even met him," Katja said, a look of sadness mixed with horror across her features. "I see a darkness within you that is not entirely of your own heart, but reinforces itself, all the same. A glimmer of light is in you that few can see. And it seems Helgi here senses the same thing. The man who guided you here also sees that light, but through a different way. The...the Vanir occasionally allow me to see possibilities, but not guarantees. I can do the same for your future, should you wish. But, I can only devote so much energy to it. If you ask me now, I will require rest before you can ask again."

Helgi had settled into a purr at Eevi's feet. Her ability to detect the nature of a person was uncanny, and she would never purr like this if the person was truly devoid of redeeming qualities.

Regardless of Eevi's choice, whether she would take Katja's offer now or later, Helgi was there to guide Eevi to either the shop where Taavi was or to the apartments. She was like a compass that guided Eevi to somewhere she unconsciously felt like being.

Eevi hesitated, her breath puffing out in little clouds as she regarded Katja. The old woman’s words felt like they carried a weight beyond their simple delivery, like they were steeped in something ancient and powerful. Eevi wasn’t used to being seen—not truly, not beyond the surface—but here was this frail woman, blind yet somehow perceptive, who seemed to peer straight into her soul.

The mention of wars, of pain, struck a chord within her that reverberated through the hollow spaces she had tried so hard to seal off. The cold bite of the Finnish winter seemed to pale in comparison to the chill of those memories being stirred. Yet, despite the discomfort it caused, Eevi couldn’t bring herself to walk away. She was drawn to Katja, much like the way the Maine Coon, Helgi, seemed drawn to her.

Eevi crouched slowly, careful not to lose her balance on the crutches, and extended a hand toward Helgi, her fingers brushing gently through the cat’s soft fur. The rhythmic purring was soothing, grounding her in a moment that felt oddly surreal.

“Helgi, huh? I have a suspicion I already know who you are.” Eevi murmured, her voice soft, almost as if she were speaking only to the cat. But her gaze soon lifted back to Katja, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. There was a part of her that wanted to reject what the old woman was offering—visions, possibilities, they were all things that had failed her before. But another part, a deeper, quieter part, was curious. The allure of knowing, even if it was just a glimpse, was tempting.

The weight of Katja’s offer settled over her, heavy and significant. Eevi considered it carefully, weighing her options. She could walk away, pretend this was just another strange encounter in an already strange town, or she could dive deeper, confront whatever truth Katja might reveal.

“Alright, Katja,” Eevi finally said, straightening up and leaning more heavily on her crutches. “Show me what you see. I’m not afraid of what the future holds. If anything, I’m more afraid of not knowing.”

There was a quiet determination in her voice now, a readiness to face whatever Katja’s vision might bring. Helgi’s purring at her feet was a comfort, a reminder that, even in this moment of uncertainty, she wasn’t entirely alone.

The old woman smiled, a knowing glint behind her sunglasses, as she slowly reached out to place a weathered hand on Eevi’s arm. The contact was light, almost imperceptible, but Eevi felt a subtle shift in the air around them, as if the very fabric of reality was bending to accommodate Katja’s will. The world seemed to hold its breath as the old woman prepared to share whatever vision the Vanir had granted her.

Whatever the future held, Eevi was ready to confront it.

Katja dove into the possible futures that Eevi could look forward to. And the closer the event, the more accurately she could predict them - Katja had foreseen the undead invasion, but was off by a few days. The visions had suggested the invasion would be later than it occurred. With Eevi, most of her futures - while different - contained the exact same face among them: Taavi Virtanen. The man who hid his soft heart behind his mercenary career...

"I'm not surprised..." Katja started. "...to see him in your future. Taavi believes in that light within you - the same kind that dwelt within him, undernourished, for so long. He believes it so strongly that no matter which future comes, he will gamble his life for your sake. I foresee, in a few days, someone that claims to know you will come to take you - Taavi will put himself at risk for you. And he would die for you, too."

Katja dove deeper - there was going to be agony, loss, even the death of loved ones. And then, a foreboding presence watched Katja like a hawk, angered that she would dare look into the future of someone that belonged to it.

"Y-you will be forced to make a choice in less than a year," she said, her voice shaking. "To live as you have or to be someone different..."

A horrifying frenzy of visions of suffering, pain, and death bombarded Katja's mind's eye. All the misery, all the death, pure suffering, all squeezed into a cauldron of blackness. Of ink - overlooked by a wicked goddess who was most displeased that she had dared to see into the future of her prime agent. Katja began to hyperventilate at what she had seen, her hand falling away from Eevi's as a tear streamed from one of her atrophied eyes. She pulled away, reluctant to leave Eevi, but still in shock at what she saw.

"M-my girl," she said. "I-I'm s-sorry...that...that you've been f-forced to carry your burden. At the hands of...of a being so cruel..."

Her sunglasses came away, revealing her eyes - clouded over and unusable, but still sensitive to light.

"I...I'm sorry...for everything that happened to you," she said, the shiver that struck her body more dramatic than anything the harsh local climate could do. Shaking her head, she was reluctant to leave a redeemable woman, but she also knew she could do little more than speak of what she saw. Her steps away from the stranger were reluctant ones.

Eevi stared at Katja, her usual grim demeanor deepening as the weight of the old woman’s words settled in. The future Katja had glimpsed wasn’t unexpected, but hearing it laid out like this, seeing the fear and pity in the woman’s face—it struck a nerve. She had spent so long surviving, focusing on what needed to be done to keep herself alive, that she had almost forgotten what it meant to care about what lay ahead. And Taavi—why did he keep appearing in these visions, always ready to risk himself for her? It was a complication she didn’t need, a weakness she couldn’t afford.

But despite herself, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—flickered in her chest. She quickly smothered it, not allowing it to take root. Survival was her priority, nothing else. And yet, the old woman’s trembling apology made her pause.

She noticed Katja’s sunglasses lying in the snow, having fallen in the midst of the vision. For a moment, Eevi hesitated, the usual cold detachment warring with a faint sense of obligation. Despite everything, there was still some part of her that understood common courtesy, even if it was buried beneath layers of survival instinct and hardened resolve.

With a resigned sigh, she crouched down carefully, her movements slow and deliberate as she balanced on her crutches. Her fingers brushed against the cold frames of the glasses, and she picked them up, wiping off the snow before straightening back up.

Without a word, she extended the glasses toward Katja, her expression unreadable. The old woman’s trembling hand reached out, and Eevi placed the glasses gently into her grasp.

“Here,” Eevi said, her voice low but steady. “Take care of yourself, Katja.”

“Taavi…” she murmured, the name leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. His belief in her, his willingness to gamble everything, felt like a burden she hadn’t asked for. Her life had been built on survival, on doing what was necessary to keep herself alive, and the idea of someone else willing to throw their life away for her was almost laughable in its absurdity. She was past sacrificing ones life for and beyond deserving it even.

“Thank you, Katja,” Eevi said, her voice carrying a cold edge as she tightened her grip on the crutches. “But you should know that I’m not in the habit of relying on others, no matter what you saw. If he wants to throw his life away for me, that’s his choice, not mine. I am just as likely to be one of the forces that could be killing him in those visions you had.”

Her gaze hardened as she looked down at the cat purring at her feet, then back to the trembling old woman. The visions of suffering and darkness Katja had described didn’t frighten her; they were simply the reality she had come to accept. Pain and loss were constants, things to be endured and overcome, not feared.

“And as for that choice…” Eevi trailed off, her expression darkening. “I’ve made my bed. I know what I am. What I have to do. Survival is all that matters.” Even as she said this though, doubt tinged away in the back of her mind. Living only for survival made her no better than an animal after all.

With that, she shifted her weight on the crutches, turning slowly to leave. Each movement was deliberate, careful, a testament to her determination to keep moving forward, no matter the cost. Taavi’s importance to her future gnawed at her, but she pushed it aside, burying it deep where it couldn’t distract her from the only thing that truly mattered—survival.

Helgi was Eevi's guide as she walked, and she would periodically pause to look in the direction of Taavi's repair shop. Almost like a compass needle encouraging Eevi.

"Hard to imagine you losing your temper," Jens said as the apprentice armorers played catch-up with Taavi.

"You cannot imagine what I went through to get those cabinets to organize weapons parts while in the United States Army," Taavi said. "It's one of the reasons I get so lazy between contracts - I put everything into my job while in the military."

"You literally busted your ass off doing work for the United States Army, and you never even made the rank of sergeant," Anton said. "They never moved you from there because they thought you were indispensable. You were stuck."

"Anyway, the Chief Warrant Officer comes by and begins eying my cabinets lustfully and he goes, 'Those are some really nice cabineths, high-speed'."

"You giving him an accent?" Jens asked.

"No, it's how he talked. He called everyone 'high-speed' and he spoke with a really bad lisp," Taavi clarified. "Anyway, he wanted my cabinets to put jeep parts in. I tried telling him there was no way jeep parts would fit in the drawers. It devolved from me saying 'No, Chief, you cant have my drawers - I just ordered them and I need them' into 'No, Chief, you can go fuck yourself, and I'm going to punch your face in if you don't get the fuck out of my shop'. I eventually called him an idiot and told him he'd be dead and gone before he ever touched my cabinets."

"I sense some fallout from this," Anton said.

"Then he said 'We'll see about that, high-speed,' and walked away," Taavi said. "I then grabbed a pintle mount for an M2 Browning and tossed it into a wall locker. I shot-putted a six pound hunk of metal into a wall locker hard enough to leave a hole in it."

"And did anyone see you do this violent act?"

"Yes. My squad lead came up and said 'you should not have done what you just did'. And I was like 'oh, gee...you think?' I ended up seeing the company commander, I got chewed out - when I got back to my shop, the drawers were gone and I had to order new ones. What happened was even better than I expected: I got sent to anger management," Taavi regaled them with the story. "I get there, I see a staff sergeant, a warrant officer, a captain, another staff sergeant, a major - all people much higher ranking than me. Finally there was me: Private First Class Virtanen. Looking back, I feel like anger management was less 'anger management' and more like an 'Incompetence of Fort Polk' support group. And I don't have evidence for this, but I'm pretty sure that when I told my superior to screw himself, they were like, 'we need to kick this guy out of the army. But if we do that, we don't have anyone to fix our guns'."

"And that's the first time you had job security," Jens said with a laugh.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure the only reason they kept me was because I was the only one on the base who could fix guns," Taavi concluded. "Well, the rest is history, and I apprenticed you two."

As Taavi turned to look out the door, his eyes caught Eevi on crutches, and he walked out to meet her.


In her own house, Katja wrote all that she saw - the myriad of pathways Eevi's life could go from here. Be she lost in a snowstorm to be rescued by Taavi, to Taavi gifting her his rifle as he stays behind elsewhere in a final act of self sacrifice. Perhaps, in the grip of the goddess that held dominion over her, Eevi would kill Katja and not even remember that she did so. And Katja even saw Eevi change her mind on a critical issue during a contract, sparing her target further pain than she was bound for.

And next, she detailed Taavi, atop a steed and no longer himself.

Finally, she used her strength with wax markers to sketch the wicked goddess over her cauldron filled with ink - the malevolent being that held Eevi under her curse. And then, a goddess of nature and the hunt who, though not bestowing Taavi with power, bestowed him with many changes in fortune, all the same. There was a grand design in all of this - Katja knew it.

As she detailed all of what she saw, Katja's heart would give out by the week's end.

"Helgi, stop pulling," Eevi murmured as the cat gently nudged her forward, her crutches clicking against the pavement with each careful step. Her gaze flickered repeatedly to the shop nearby, drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

She paused outside, the weight of the crutches heavy in her hands. Taavi’s voice drifted out to her, familiar and yet so distant, telling some story that she half-listened to but couldn't fully engage with. There was a time when she would have laughed at antics like his, maybe even teased him about his temper. But that was before. The Eevi of even more recent years would have just found such fraternizing to be vapid and irritating, a farce to make their time pass by quick and easy. Now, all she could muster was a faint flicker of something resembling...contentment? Relief, perhaps, that he was no longer confined to a hospital bed.

When their eyes met, Eevi’s breath caught in her throat. A part of her wanted to turn away, to keep walking and leave the past behind, but another part—an inexplicable pull—kept her rooted in place. "You're up," she said softly as he approached, her voice betraying no warmth but not entirely cold either. It was a simple observation, but layered beneath was an unspoken acknowledgment of the battles they both had fought, though different in nature.

As he neared, Eevi felt a strange mix of emotions—relief that he was alive and well, but also a distance that she couldn’t cross. She couldn’t shake the feelings that he was already a part of a past she was no longer a part of and a future that couldn’t be hers, even as the memories of that past clung to her like a shroud. Her mind was already drifting, the presence of Helgi at her side the only thing grounding her in the present. "You look...better," she added, her tone almost clinical, as if she were assessing a patient rather than speaking to an old friend.

But even as she spoke, her thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in the web of futures that Katja had foreseen, futures that she herself was now starting to sense. She could almost see the paths stretching out before her, each one fraught with peril, each one leading her further away from the warmth and safety she once knew. And at the center of it all was Taavi, somehow integral to whatever was to come, yet painfully distant from the Eevi she had become.

"I...wasn't sure you'd be up and about so soon," she admitted, her voice tinged with a slight hesitation. The old Eevi would have been more open, more present in this moment. But now, standing here, she felt like she was speaking through a veil, separated from him by an invisible barrier she wasn't sure she could ever break through. "But...it's good to see you on your feet."

Her words hung in the air, as distant and disconnected as she felt. Helgi rubbed against her leg, as if sensing her turmoil, but Eevi barely noticed, her mind already slipping back into the uncertainty that had become her constant companion. The present moment, as real as it was, felt like just another possibility in the myriad futures that stretched out before her, each one as fleeting and intangible as the next.

"Yeah, well..." Taavi trailed before a light coughing was followed by him clearing his throat, followed by a spit of blood into the trash bin. "I got the nanotherapy treatment done. I'm in for weekly check-ups. I'm not coughing as often, but the fits still sting when they happen."

Taavi's breath fogged up as he leaned against the railing by her outside the machine shop. Helgi leaped up onto the rail, with all the deftness her feline form afforded her. She rubbed up against his chest, her companionship welcomed by him in these tense days.

"I see Helgi found you," he trailed. "I heard what happened, and I gave Astrid a stern talking-to. Made it clear that you're off-limits. But...I have to lay down the law with you, too, Eevi. Invoking what you did was a step too far. I get your position - it's frustrating being stalked by her. It's a miracle that's all she did to you. When I was still fresh here, I spent quite a few weeks with bruises on my back from where she threw stones at me. I'd be lying if I said I didn't consider returning the favor on her."

Taavi turned to look towards Eevi, hoping to stretch out the rapport he was building with her, adding, "I knew that whatever short-term satisfaction I would get from that wouldn't be worth the long-term consequence of being the town pariah, especially if I was going to work as its mercenary. I decided it was better to keep the town watching my back than having its guns trained on my back."

"Anyways...how long until you're off crutches?"

"If you understand what Astrid's like, then you should know that nothing is off the table when it comes to dealing with her," Eevi replied, her tone cool and resolute. "She had it coming. You say it’s a miracle that’s all she did to me, but you should be grateful I didn’t do worse to her. You know how I am, Taavi. If you can’t handle that, then the offer still stands—you can always collect the bounty on me."

She glanced at him, her eyes narrowing slightly as her earlier sense of contentment faded into a more guarded expression. The fleeting thoughts she’d had about his place in her future dissipated, replaced by a more immediate irritation. "I don’t need a lecture from you, of all people. Astrid's the one who needs to learn some damn boundaries, not me."

Helgi’s presence at her side did little to soothe her mood. The cat’s gentle purring, a comfort just moments ago, now felt distant, overshadowed by the growing tension between her and Taavi. She shifted her weight on the crutches, the strain of standing starting to wear on her, but she wouldn’t let it show.

"As for the crutches, I’ll be off them when I’m good and ready. Don’t worry about me," she added tersely. "You’ve got enough to deal with without worrying about my recovery." Her eyes drifted back toward the shop, as if she was already distancing herself from the conversation, her mind clouded with thoughts of Katja’s visions and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

"Anyway, I’ll be fine. Just focus on your own recovery, and don’t let anyone push you around—not even me," she finished, her voice softer but still laced with a hint of bitterness. "Remember, Taavi," Eevi said as she turned to leave, her voice cutting through the cold air with a sharp edge, "you can always collect the price on my head if I’m proving to be too much for you and this place. I offered it once before, and the offer still stands. But you’d better decide quickly. I won't be on these crutches for long and it would seem you're on the fast track for degradation."

She paused, her back to him, the weight of her words hanging in the space between them. "Eemil made it clear how long you’re expected to still be alive for, and if you’re already too weak to stop me when you decide it’s time, it won’t be you still alive to regret the indecision—it’ll be Naarajärvi."

With that, she continued walking, the sound of her crutches tapping against the pavement echoing in the silence that followed.

Taavi frowned at the threat. It was to be expected, given Eevi's psychological profile. Still, she had a point. Taavi had anywhere from now up to three or five years left to live - Eevi didn't have the ticking timer of a failing body. But she vastly underestimated his capabilities. If it meant taking on the world's corporations, the governments, even Eevi herself, Taavi can and will fight until he drops. Stubbornness even in the face of the impossible was one of his defining features, after all.

He'd need someone to take over if he couldn't fight anymore - he wanted that to be Eevi, but she wasn't in the mindset for it. As tempting as it was to stop Eevi in her tracks, Taavi relented. Eevi was already irritated and could go off at any point. Three months...he'd give it three months before he actually considered putting a bullet in her head. He shook his head, trying to clear the ruthless mercenary mindset from his head when not on the clock. Still, between surviving three wars and the US Army kicking his head in good, he was always wary for the slightest thing that went wrong.

With a sigh, he parted ways and went to the diner. Aina was being herself, as usual. But there was a sight he didn't expect to see in the restaurant; a new face, clad in exotic colors. Even by the standards of someone who lived in the Lapland, she was pale. Raven hair, purple eyes - an unusual combination. Her clothing seemed surprisingly thin for the conditions.

"Are you new in town?" Taavi asked.

The woman regarded him, boring into his emerald eyes with her amethyst ones. A smile played across her face.

"I am indeed," she said. Despite not looking anything like a Finn, her Finnish was spoken without any flaws in it. "Who might you be?"

"I'm a resident of this town - its main breadwinner, if you will," Taavi said. "Mind if I have a seat here?"

"Not at all. I could use the company," the woman said, allowing him to sit across from her in the booth. There was a certain aura about her; a warming sensation in Taavi's soul that told him that things around her would be alright. For the moment, his spat with Eevi seemed to be far away.

"I guess while we're seated..." Taavi started. "...we may as well get to know each other. I'm Taavi Virtanen - my occupation is my own affair. And you are?"

"I've gone by...many names in my lifetime," she said. "A lifetime, I sense, that is much longer than yours."

"Really?" Taavi questioned. "You're a Meta like me, then?"

"Oh, no...I'm something else entirely," the woman said.

"It doesn't really answer my question..."

"If you must call me something, Compassion is as good a place as any to start," the woman said with a gentle smile. Taavi didn't really feel like pulling away when she reached across the table. If anything, the feeling of warmth and peacefulness only amplified with the touch to his shoulder. "Something troubles you, Mister Virtanen. I can tell. Do you care to share?"

Taavi trusted in his ability to read people, and one look in the eyes of the woman calling herself Compassion told him that she was a benevolent, if somewhat troubled, woman who carried a long and storied history in her heart. He felt...safe telling this woman about his problems. Still, he couldn't say it all...

"Well...there's this...woman..." he started.

As Eevi made her way back home, the cold evening air seemed to cling to her skin, mirroring the chill that had settled deep within her. Each step felt heavier than the last, her mind replaying the confrontation with Taavi over and over, each word striking like a fresh wound. The streets of Naarajärvi were quiet at this hour, the usual bustle subdued under the blanket of twilight, leaving Eevi alone with her tumultuous thoughts.

Reaching her small, sparsely furnished apartment, she shoved the door open with more force than necessary, the sound echoing through the empty space. She let out a frustrated sigh as she leaned her crutches against the wall and shrugged off her coat, tossing it carelessly onto a nearby chair. The silence in the room was deafening, pressing in on her from all sides as she stood there, uncertain of what to do next.

Feeling the weight of exhaustion both physical and emotional, Eevi limped over to her bed and sank down onto the mattress, the springs creaking softly beneath her. She stared up at the cracked ceiling, eyes tracing the familiar patterns as she tried to make sense of the storm raging inside her.

Why does it bother me so much? she wondered, clenching her hands into tight fists. Taavi's reprimand had struck a nerve she didn't even know existed, igniting a flame of anger and something else she couldn't quite identify. She had dealt with far worse confrontations in her life, had brushed off threats and insults without a second thought, yet his words lingered, festering beneath the surface.

He's just another person, she told herself sternly. Another obstacle, another voice trying to tell me what to do. So why can't I just ignore him like all the others?

But deep down, Eevi knew it wasn't that simple. Taavi was different. He understood parts of her world that few others did, shared experiences that connected them in unspoken ways. Perhaps she had even started to see him as an ally, someone who could relate to the shadows that haunted her life. And now, with his disapproval hanging heavy between them, she felt a pang of something dangerously close to hurt.

It's ridiculous, she chastised herself, rolling onto her side and pulling her knees up to her chest. I've survived on my own this long. I don't need his approval, his understanding. I don't need anyone.

Yet, no matter how much she tried to convince herself, the doubts persisted. The memory of his disappointed gaze, the concern laced within his reprimand, all of it stirred emotions she had long tried to bury. It was easier to feel anger, to wrap herself in the familiar cloak of indifference and resentment, than to face the vulnerability that threatened to surface.

She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, trying to block out the images and thoughts swirling in her mind. Maybe I'm just tired, she reasoned. Tired and frustrated, and taking it out on the wrong person.

But even that excuse felt hollow. There was a part of her that craved connection, that longed for someone to see beyond the hardened exterior she presented to the world. Perhaps Taavi had glimpsed that part of her, and it scared her more than she cared to admit.

With a groan, Eevi pushed herself up to a sitting position, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, careful with the handling of her injured leg. The room felt stifling, the walls closing in as her thoughts continued to spiral. She needed a distraction, something to take her mind off the day's events and the unwelcome introspection they had triggered.

Her gaze fell on a small bookshelf tucked into the corner, its contents a mismatched collection of novels and manuals. Standing slowly, she hobbled over and ran her fingers along the spines, searching for anything that might provide an escape, even if only temporarily. Settling on a worn paperback, she made her way back to the bed and flipped it open, trying to lose herself in the printed words.

But as the minutes ticked by, the sentences blurred together, and she found herself rereading the same paragraph over and over without comprehension. Frustrated, she snapped the book shut and tossed it aside, admitting defeat.

Maybe some rest will help, she thought, though she doubted sleep would come easily tonight. Lying back down, she pulled the blanket up over her shoulders and stared once more at the ceiling, the shadows dancing across its surface as the moonlight filtered through the thin curtains.

In the quiet solitude of her room, Eevi allowed herself a moment of honesty. I care because, for once, someone is taking a chance on me—taking a chance on the better me they see somewhere in this shell—and I  am pushing them away in favour of pettiness. The admission was painful, but somehow freeing. Perhaps there was still time to mend bridges, to find a balance between her guarded nature and the connections she secretly yearned for.

But that was a problem for another day. For now, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself to find peace amid the chaos of her thoughts but the easy peace offered by rest avoided her yet. As sleep evaded her, the lingering question remained:

What do I truly want, and am I brave enough to reach for it? Why am I still so Weak?

Taavi found himself losing track of time as he and Compassion talked. What started as his mixed feelings about Eevi soon came to his time in the United States, and eventually,  he fixated on his time here in Finland. He had often considered the powers that came from the Soviet experimentation on him to be a curse, because it meant he outlived all of his fellow veterans of the three wars. They had been the only ones he could relate to.

And then, Eevi entered his life. Several days ago, had the contract come through earlier, he would have coldly and professionally killed her without loss in any sleep. But when the two of them met in Ruokolahti and discovered themselves to be kindred spirits, all that changed. They were two sides of the same coin; Taavi had simply recovered sooner. And despite how tempting that bounty looked - how long that could keep Naarajärvi afloat - something in his heart wanted to give her a chance to do more than simply survive.

He wanted her to learn to truly live again. Like he had.

"You know, you strike me as a curious fusion of myself and my brother," Compassion said after absorbing his drawn-out feelings. "Your determination to do right by this town - by your own neighbors - reminds me of his determination toward justice - his namesake. The very idea of blood repaying blood is something he would approve of with regards to this woman. For a long time, I was inclined to agree and cast her as a lost cause."

Taavi shot Compassion a wary look, asking, "Are you saying you had plans to kill her?"

"Until you two met, yes," Compassion said. "I represent a lot of things, Mister Virtanen, and I have seen more death, suffering, and torture than anyone ought to - including the torture that you endured. Although one of the tenets I espouse is redemption, I can only allow an individual so many chances. And yet, something about the way your hearts connected that day gave me pause, and I decided to allow one more chance. Because if you - a Meta - can spur reform in an otherwise unrepentant killer, I will have seen enough to reinforce my faith in your kind."

"You talk like someone who has personally seen every high and low point of the human race," Taavi said. "Care to tell me exactly what you are?"

"I, like my brother after me, am a living personification of many concepts: compassion, selflessness, mercy, forgiveness, redemption, and - to a smaller degree - justice," Compassion said. "My brother represents the ideals of justice and order more fully than I do. We're...at odds about humanity, and especially about Meta. I look into your eyes, and I see a potential he fails to see. You take an occupation traditionally associated with greed - that of a mercenary - and instead use it as a means to provide for an entire town, only keeping enough for yourself to live to the next day. If you didn't feel so duty-bound to this town, you could easily change the world for the better."

"That's an...interesting analysis of me," Taavi said. "How long are you staying in town?"

"I come and go where and when I sense I'm needed," Compassion said as she stood. "If we meet each other again, it will be because I'll have sensed you need my comfort. Until that day, Mister Virtanen..."

"Ma'am..." Taavi trailed in goodbye. Compassion left no footprints as she stepped through the snow. A gust of wind carrying powder along it swept along the horizon, and she was simply gone. It was as if she had never been there.

Stepping back towards the apartment complex, Taavi saw Helgi dutifully waiting by his door. He was tempted to check in on Eevi to see how she was holding up, but decided against it. He went into his room, Helgi by his side, and took in the relatively sparse surroundings. Most of his room was utilitarian in nature, and had little in the way of decoration. Maybe a few photos and an old guitar hanging on the wall. As someone who didn't splurge unnecessarily on luxury items, music was one of the few things in his room he had in abundance, so he kept his skills on the guitar almost as sharp as his sniping skills.

The tune he played was melancholic, in the key of A minor. He needed to unwind from the events of the day.

The next day, as it turns out, was going to have its own problems...

As Eevi lay on her bed, the soft notes of the guitar drifted through the walls, seeping into her consciousness. The music was melancholic, yet somehow calming, the kind of tune that quieted the mind and soothed the soul. It was a familiar comfort, a reminder that she wasn’t as alone as she often felt. Her thoughts drifted back to Taavi, the tension of their earlier confrontation giving way to a softer reflection. For the first time since their argument, she found herself smiling faintly.

But then, as the music continued, a realization struck her like a sudden gust of cold wind. The smile faded from her face, replaced by a mixture of confusion and something deeper—something she hadn’t allowed herself to confront before. She sat up abruptly, the gentle strains of the guitar fading into the background as her mind raced. Was that it? Was that what had been gnawing at her all this time?

Without fully understanding why, she pushed herself out of bed, grabbing her crutches and making her way to the door. Each step felt heavier, not from the physical strain but from the weight of the thoughts swirling in her head. She paused for a moment before opening the door, her heart pounding in her chest. Is this really what it is? she wondered. Is this what’s been bothering me so much about Taavi?

The hallway was quiet as she hobbled to the apartment next door. Her crutches clicked against the floor with each step, the sound punctuating the stillness around her. When she reached Taavi’s door, she hesitated for a second, her hand hovering above the wood. Finally, she knocked—three quick raps—before calling out softly.

"Taavi? It’s me... Eevi. I want to talk about earlier."

She waited, feeling her heart thudding in her chest, unsure of what exactly she was going to say. But she knew she needed to say something, to get this weight off her chest. The silence on the other side of the door felt agonizing as she shifted on her crutches, her breath held in anticipation.

When the knocks came, Taavi stopped strumming, confused. The voices from Eevi came from his apartment door. Why? He'd have expected Eevi to be too fuming to talk to him. She had been so adamant that her way was the way to look at things. He would have figured that Eevi would require the whole night to cool down; apparently, he was wrong.

Setting the guitar gently aside, Taavi walked through the dim lighting of his apartment, kept lit by candles to conserve power. Helgi already had her attention on the door, looking up at it. Her meow was unnecessary to warn him that he had a visitor. Looking through the peep hole, he saw Eevi herself was indeed on the other side. The chain lock was still in place on his door, but he still gave it a crack open.

"Eevi? What's on your mind?" he asked as he looked through the crack in the door.

Depending on how in-depth Eevi wanted to go in the discussion, Taavi would end up undoing the chain to let her in.

Eevi stood awkwardly, feeling the weight of her own words before they even reached her lips. Her usual sharp, composed demeanor was replaced by something more unsettled as she glanced down at the crutches under her arms.

"I, uh...sorry for just showing up like this," she started, her voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant. "I didn't mean to interrupt your playing or whatever...I could hear it through the walls. It was...nice. But that’s not why I’m here." She shifted uncomfortably, feeling uncharacteristically unsure of herself.

She tried to watch his face, looking for any signs of danger to herself in his reactions like she would anyone else but all that was doing was making her feel out of her element. His presence was calming, something familiar yet alien after so long, and that only added to her inner frustration. She was always so sure, so decisive, and yet here she was, at his door, almost rambling.

"What you said earlier...about Astrid, about everything...it bothered me more than I thought it would," she admitted, her words coming faster now as if she were pushing them out before she lost the nerve. "And I hate that it’s bothering me this much. I don’t get it, Taavi. Why the hell do I care so much about what you said? Why does it matter so damn much what you think?"

She clenched her fists around the grips of her crutches, her breathing slightly uneven as she struggled to put her chaotic thoughts into something coherent. "I mean, you're...you’re you. We've fought together well, we've worked together well, and hell, I’ve still felt it necessary to threaten you more than once. But this time...this time felt different, and I don’t know why."

Her eyes darted up to meet his, searching for any sign of understanding in the half-open door.

"I just...I just want to talk, okay? I need to get this off my chest. Because if I don’t, it’s going to drive me crazy, and...I don’t know how to deal with this."

Taavi bit his lip, a bit guarded, but not looking at her in any threatening manner. Eevi typically interacted in cool manner. There was usually a charm behind her behavior, but she was always composed, even when darker elements of her personality were clear to him. Taavi was supposed to be good at reading people, but Eevi's confused rambling threw him for a loop. Something about him laying down the law with her over Astrid bugged her.

Perhaps it was precisely because he was the one who said it. He - another Winter War survivor - was the one who told her off.

"Eevi..." Taavi trailed, looking her in the eye with a bizarre mix of understanding and confusion. "I get why you're confused about all this, what with you drifting around with no connection for so long. And who could blame you? There seemed little commonality between you and others. I was the same way, being a military veteran - I could only connect with other veterans for so long. And then, you find out that you have a contemporary who's been around this whole time and went through the same war. There's been no one else in your life that fits that description. I-...here..."

Closing the door briefly, Taavi undid the chain securing the door to the frame before opening it back up, a light tap on Eevi's shoulder inviting her in.

"Here, come in," he said.

There was very little in furnishing, but a few things could end up catching eyes. A wedding photo dated March 9, 1958 showing Taavi with a stunning brunette woman, was on a small end table. Next to that was himself and the same woman with a newborn baby, and next to that was Taavi - with cropped military-regulation hair length - and a young boy sitting by the seaside fishing. That was dated in April 5th, 1967. But there was a lack of any more photos outside of a few military mementos, suggesting something happened that those people weren't with him now.

The biggest giveaway was the fact that two wedding bands were in front of the wedding photo - neither was being worn by Taavi.