Innocent, Are You? ((Conan))

[Katya Love S5]

The sweet tinkle of laughter wafted around the studio and mingled with the clicking of the shutters falling over the lenses of the three cameras. The long brown hair of her mother flew around her face as she chased after little Katya who was wearing one of the sundresses that they were both modeling. Katya giggled and did a spin, throwing her arms out and looking up, and there was another shutter click and Katya laughed outright as Yuliya picked her up from behind and around the waist and lifted her into a tight hug. More clicks. Katya couldn’t stop smiling. She was happy. Katya’s hazel green speckled eyes opened suddenly and took in her surroundings as she tried to control the heavy breathing and beating of her heart. She hated when she had memories creep up on her in the form of dreams, sometimes even nightmares. There wasn’t anything she could do about it, though, so Katya bore with it and put up with the pain they returned. She was good at that. Hiding how she felt, when she felt it, or why she felt it. Katya was good at hiding things to begin with. Katya turned over on her side in her four poster and stared at the photograph on her bedside table. It was the exact photograph of the memory she had just relived. Katya reached over and plucked it off the table top, bringing it to her so she could see the smile and laughter written all over both of their faces. Mother and daughter.

”Te ne odna,” The voice sounded so real as it whispered in her ear. Katya set the photo down as she whispered the translation, “You are not alone.” The Russian phrase was often spoken by her mother whenever Katya felt down, as a way to remind the girl that she in fact wasn’t alone because she could always go to her mother when she was upset. Now that wasn’t true, though. Katya was alone; she was more alone than ever. She sighed and pushed the comforter off her before swinging her legs over the edge and standing up from the bed. She reached above her head to stretch out her back before grabbing the night robe that was hanging on the post at the foot of her bed and slipped her arms through it. She ran her fingers through her hair as her eyes looked at her sleeping dorm mates. Normally Katya would take her broom out and have a late night flying session, but she knew the weather wouldn’t agree with her considering it was storming out. Even with being under the lake it was noticeable just how horrid the weather was at the moment. Wasn’t it supposed to be sunny? Being March and all, that is. Whatever, Katya would just read instead. With that decision having been made, Katya crouched beside her bed and picked out a worn book from the little cubby that was in her nightstand. She looked at the golden wording on the cover and nodded before standing up straight and exiting the dorm room quietly.

The common room was deserted, which wasn’t all that surprising considering it was nearly three in the morning. Katya didn’t mind, she was looking forward to reading poetry by the fire (which had flared up the moment she set foot in the common room) all alone without interruptions from first years or prying busy bodies. She sighed, as contentedly as she could, and sank into one of the larger arm chairs where she cracked open the book to her favourite poem. “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all, and sweetest in the gale is heard; and sore must be the storm that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm. I’ve heard it in the chillest land, and on the strangest sea; yet, never, in extremity, it asked a crumb of me.” Katya chewed on the inside of her cheek as she tucked her hair behind her ear and turned the page of her book. It was a book her father had given her for her thirteenth birthday and already she had worn it out from reading it so much. Just as she was beginning to read another one of her favourite poems, there was a loud hiss and a flash of white fur dashed across Katya’s line of vision followed by another flash of fur. Katya set her book down quickly and lunged at Anastasia, but caught the other cat instead. There was a meow and the other kitten nibbled her hand in an attempt to get out of her grasp, “It’s going to take a lot more than that to get me to let go of you,” she told it harshly, “so you best just… stop!” Anastasia pranced over toward Katya and the other kitten, shook her tail and purred as she rubbed up against Katya. “Oh, you’re innocent, are you?” Anastasia meowed in reply and Katya rolled her eyes. She was about to let the kitten she was holding go, when there was a sound behind her. She whirled around and looked at the newcomer, then at the kitten in her hands; “Does this belong to you?”

((I went ahead and closed it.))

[jacob]

(I’ve written Conan as being fluent in Russian, but unlike you apparently, I do not truly speak Russian. Therefore I plan to only ROLE PLAY him speaking it, as for actually typing it out…cant do that…I hope you can bear with that?)

Conan had been lying in bed, quietly, with the tiny kitten. Conan wasn’t much of a sleeper. On a good night, he got two or three hours of sleep, but normally he ended up just laying in bed, humming softly to calm himself. Though Conan wasn’t a nervous kid when he was awake and running around, at night he was nervous. It wasn’t the darkness, or the room, or any such fears, it was just a certain feeling that overcame him at night. His mind ran troublesomely over and over and over the events of the day and wouldn’t allow the boy to get any full sleep. The pace his mind ran, compared to the pace his body was willing to run, were total opposites, and this difference in his body’s behavior acted up his nerves.

Roman, the small ball of grey fluff lied next to him, curled up close to his chest, purring. In its own unique way, it sounded like a growl, which fitted him nicely. Suddenly the purring stopped, and Conan felt Roman hop off the bed. That, feeling the cat move, had taken Conan months to learn to do, seeing as since birth, the small thing had not gained more then two or three pounds. Roman’s fur had grown in nicely, and he had developed physically and mentally, but other then that, the kitten remained as tiny as it had been when it first opened its eyes. Normally Conan would not have cared too much, but lately Roman had been running off and causing mayhem, and tonight Conan was not in a mood to lay in bed alone. The kitten comforted him in a way.

Growling angrily Conan rolled out of bed, slipped his feet into slippers, grabbed his robe and left his door room. When he reached the stairs he hurried down them, hearing a series of meows from downstairs. It was obvious Roman had already starting something with another cat and so Conan moved faster, mumbling angrily under his breath as he headed down the stairs. His lips voice slipped in and out of Russian to English, to Russian again. When he finally reached the bottom of the stairs he looked up from his feet and saw that Roman had been captured by a girl who seemed rather frustrated.

Conan’s eyes narrowed as the girl spoke to him, rather snootily. “Yes, Roman is my cat thank you very much.” Conan made his way over to the girl and held out his hands. “If you’d please?”

[Katya Love S5]

Katya raised an eyebrow as she heard familiar words in Russian and then the boy, Conan as Katya knew him to be, answered her with just as much snide as she had asked him with. “I’d like it if your… cat… didn’t harass mine.” She told him quietly as she handed over the kitten to him. Anastasia was meowing by her leg and Katya cast an annoyed look at her before bending down to retrieve her kitten. “Ya skhazshu po tebe suma.” She muttered as she stood back up, “You drive me crazy.” Anastasia merely mewed again and licked Katya’s hand lovingly before curling up in the crook of her arm and elbow. Katya shook her head disapprovingly and looked back up at Conan again. “I’m sorry that I snapped or sounded, urm… what’s the word? Like a twit? I’ve just been interrupted too many times today by Anastasia and an even more annoying being by the name of Patrica. It would appear that I can’t read in peace anymore.” Katya walked the little way to the arm chair she had been sitting in and picked up her book, letting Anastasia plop onto her lap. The kitten didn’t much more than yawn lazily and flop onto its belly, the two front paws stretching out in front of her. Katya grinned and then looked back at Conan again.

She traced the gold lettering on the cover of the book without looking down at it, her eyes still on Conan and then she grinned again. A grin is all she would ever do, a smile never graced her face anymore. “I heard you… speaking Russian. You do what I do, I take. Slip into it as if you forget that hardly anyone here can really speak the language? It doesn’t really matter with me. I don’t talk to anyone so I can slip in and out of my native tongue as I please.” Katya looked down at the book and tried to recall all that she had heard about Conan. Being in the shadows, isolated from everyone else, was usually horrible, but sometimes it was a good thing. It meant she could find out things about people that others wouldn’t normally understand or see. Conan… Conan… ah, yes, that’s right. She looked up at him and nodded toward the empty armchair near her. “You can sit, you know. As venomous as my words are, I really don’t bite nearly as much as Anya, here, does.” The kitten pricked its ears at the sound of her name but didn’t do anything more.

What she had remembered about Conan was simply that he was social. The complete opposite of Katya, and yet here she was talking without being forced to. The lot of Slytherin were social, but particularly not with anyone outside their own house. There were a few exceptions to that, of course and those few exceptions were outcast almost completely. There were also those members of Slytherin who had outcast themselves because they didn’t want to deal with everyone in the house and their petty drama. Katya was one of them.

[jacob]

Conan was completely thrown off when the girl had started talking to him, being rather friendly. He raised an eyebrow slightly as he held Roman against his chest absentmindedly. Normally Conan made an effort to get to know everyone, but this girl was one of the ones he hadn’t bothered with. He’d seen her before, off by herself, but he didn’t know her name, never bothered to ask for it.

Conan wasn’t by nature a mean person, but when someone started him off on the wrong foot he had trouble getting over it. Just like most of his family, Conan held grudges. Somehow, for some reason or another, Conan let this time slide. It probably had a lot to do with his insomnia, and probably a lot more to do with being lonely, but Conan moved to the chair near the girl as she mentioned it.

“You speak Russian? Natively?” Conan was even more thrown by this statement. He had never met another Russian speaking student, but it would figure that the one who speaks it is the one he never talks to. “It’s not my native language…but I know it…”

Conan smiled now as he let Roman slip from his hands and climb up onto his shoulder. The animal was small enough to sit atop there comfortably, with no fear of falling. “I don’t speak it very often unless I’m not thinking clearly…normally I try to make sure people can understand me.”

[Katya Love S5]

Katya was playing with Anastasia’s tail while the silence lingered over them. She stopped only when Conan asked, or rather stated, that she could speak Russian natively. She looked up and nodded once, her eyes unblinking. “My mother was Russian, through and through. I was born in Moscow and lived there until I was seven. My mother thought it was important for me to learn Russian first and foremost because we had planned on living there forever. I learned English, too, from my father who is from England. So, Russian is indeed my native tongue and English is my second language.” She had just told Conan more than she had told anyone in her three years at Hogwarts. It was scary, but she didn’t run from the room which was a start because that’s what she usually did when she said too much or did too much in turn of something else. Katya looked down at Anastasia again as the kitten opened a sleepy eye and then snuggled further down before pouncing at Katya’s hair which was dangling over her. Katya grinned again and then looked over at Conan again. She found she couldn’t keep her focus on him for too long, so Anastasia was a nice distraction.

“I would do that too, if I had people around me to talk to. It’s kind of nice not having to worry about accidentally saying something in Russian. You get odd looks from people who don’t speak it, you know. Russian sounds weirder than another language like Spanish, so people usually think you’re just speaking gibberish.” Katya dangled her finger in front of Anastasia who attacked it playfully and nipped at its tip. She laughed lightly and scratched the top of Anastasia’s head, before continuing to speak; “As I said, though, it doesn’t matter for me. I don’t get out much.” Katya was still focusing on her kitten, the only companion she had faith in. Kittens couldn’t betray you, hurt you, or do any of the things that humans could and it was because of this that Katya cared more about Anastasia than she had any friend or family member. Anastasia meowed and stood up on her hind legs as Katya had lifted her hand higher so the finger was harder to reach. She drew circles in the air and then laughed again as Anastasia attempted to jump and grab her finger.

Finally, she looked up and smiled (actually smiled) at the kitten on Conan’s shoulder. “They’re good friends aren’t they? Kittens. They make really good companions. They won’t betray you, or hurt you, or any of those nasty things that humans tend to do if you upset them. The most they will do is turn their tails up at you.”

[jacob]

Sometimes Russia wishes he could claim Russia as his homeland. He loved Ireland as a country, but as a home he detested the place. It was the home of his father and not his own. As he thought about it, Russia had recently deserted him as a homeland as well. “I was born and raised in Ireland, English is my fist language. When I was young I began staying with my uncle and I picked the language up quickly. I speak it when I am at his house on breaks, so it’s become a natural thing to slip into it.”

When Conan was first learning Russian his uncle forced him to speak only it and no English. They spoke Russian 24/7 and if something was not understood in Russian, there was no English explanation given. “I never slipped into it at first, but now that I know it so well I occasionally spit out a phrase or two. You are right; I get strange looks.” He chuckled, thinking of just the other day when he had spoken Russian to Abby.

Conan’s mind was luckily avoided of going into Abby mode when Katya mentioned Roman. Cat’s as companions. Normally girls favored cats, but Conan had grown attached to them. He assumed it was a way of rebelling against his family’s obsession with werewolves. “If you find the right one, they are amazing friends. Sadly, not all cats and owners match up as well as we do with ours.”

Conan looked around the empty common room, and amazed himself when he realized he was not that sleepy. Normally at this time of night Conan was dying for even a second or two of sleep, but the calmness of the room soothed him and his restless mind. “Why are you up so late?” Conan turned back to Katya, wondering why someone other then him would be up at such an hour.

[Katya Love S5]

Katya growled slightly at what Conan said about people not matching up with their cats as well as they did. “Yeah, well, not many people understand things like those of us who are willing to do so.” She looked down at Anastasia. She couldn’t help it. She hated anyone who treated their animals with any emotion other than love. Otherwise the pet wasn’t really anything, just something sold to the person in an attempt to make the person look more… loving. Of course, one look into the person’s home and their true colours would really shine through. Anastasia purred and rested her front to paws on Katya’s upper stomach, pawing her before digging her claws in and climbing up. Katya hissed and pulled Anastasia off her, “Net. You silly cat, you know better than that.” Anastasia looked up at her with her big blue eyes and then mewed again before jumping off her lap and prancing around in front of the fire. Katya rolled her eyes and then looked away from Anastasia into the fire, watching it burn, before answering Conan’s question.

The question, although relatively simple, was one that presented Katya with a dilemma. The real reason she was up was because of the memory/dream she had been having involving her mother. But she couldn’t tell him that, could she? No, because then she would have to, inevitably, explain why the memories of her dead mother woke her in the middle of the night because that would definitely be the question on Conan’s lips. She looked down at her hands which were reflecting the flicker of the flames. After a moment, she looked up at Conan and shrugged; “I heard voices.” Oh, yes. That was most definitely a better answer than the bit about her mother. Hearing voices. Now she was going to be classified as a loon along with an outcast. It wasn’t that she cared, it was just… rather… she wouldn’t like to be considered insane. Didn’t Slytherin already have a nut job in its midst’s?

“That’s not as weird as it sounds…” She muttered quietly as she brought her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Just phrases my mother used to say to me. I hear them from time to time, and I… I see her sometimes, too.” Katya had diverted her gaze back to Anastasia as tears welled in her eyes. She hated talking about it, but she knew she had to. “I’m not insane. I just miss her terribly is all.”

[jacob]

At first Conan debated getting up and going back to bed. Hearing voices was not normal, and talking to people who heard voices was not acceptable. I mean, the only voice that ever awoke Conan was his own voice rambling off in his head. That was hear a voice, not voices.

‘That’s not as weird as it sounds…’ her voice was regretful, as if she already knew what Conan was thinking; though there was no doubt she did.

Her mother. Conan felt terrible now for thinking she was insane, he should have listened before judging her. Rarely did Conan judge, this time his ego just caught up with him. “I don’t think you’re insane…” He wanted to clarify before his thoughts strayed too far. “I know what it’s like to miss your mother.”

As much as Conan told people otherwise, Conan hadn’t spoken to his mother in a little under two years. More then likely his father had restricted her from contacting him; Conan’s father would do something like that.

[Katya Love S5]

Katya saw the flicker of uneasiness in his voice before she went onto explain what she had meant by saying she heard voices. It was a look she might’ve given someone if they told her they heard voices as well, but it annoyed Katya because he had judged her before she had given him a reason to. Katya hadn’t judged him, but that one error he had made might not make it so easy to continue to be open minded. She sunk against her arm chair as he said he understood what it was like to miss a mother. “Do you, now?” She responded coolly, her eyes never leaving the fire’s dance. “Well, that’s grand, McIlroy, now I know that boys can feel… that Slytherins aren’t all nasty and that we all don’t judge within the first meeting.” Her words echoed through the room, but a quiet echo… Katya scowled again, the scowl making her face appear dark and angry; which it was. Now, she wished she had stayed up in her dormitory. Maybe she was just being irritable, or perhaps it was just because he had judged her that rubbed her the wrong way. Whatever it was, Katya didn’t enjoy it in the least bit.

Immediately, though, the anger subsided and Katya let out a small sigh. “I’m sorry,” she told him quietly, “I just hate when people say things like that. ‘I understand what you’re going through,’ ‘I know what you mean,’ ‘Everyone has gone through this once in their lifetime..’ The truth is, if everyone has gone through what I’ve been going through… the world would be an even more depressing place. Smiles and laughter wouldn’t exist, and even fewer emotions would be extinct. Love wouldn’t fill the hearts of young teenagers, and if it did; betrayal would replace it. Both very strong emotions that are so intertwined with each other that it’s almost impossible to distinguish one from another in my world.” Katya’s voice had dropped to a whisper and could barely be heard above the crackling of the fire and Anastasia’s mewing. She didn’t care to repeat her words, though. If Conan hadn’t heard much of it, that was fine with Katya.

She suddenly looked at him, curiosity in her hazel eyes; “What are you doing up so late, then?” She asked in return to his question earlier on.

[jacob]

Conan frowned when she got an attitude again. Conan hadn’t meant to judge her, and he knew that was why she was so upset all the sudden. Her words were quite clear. Conan simply closed his eyes and let her speak; cutting her off to explain would only make things worse. He wondered why all girls seemed to go off on things like that. No no Conan, do not generalize. He corrected himself by the time she had finished speaking and then opened his eyes and looked over at her.

“Never did I say I knew how you felt exactly Katya. Let’s not read too far into my words please.” Conan kept his tone light, not wanting to seem rude or to seem mad or anything of the like. He wanted to keep his conversation with Katya easy, and he really didn’t want to make any enemies. “I simply said I know what it’s like to miss your mother, but not that I know how you feel.” Conan never tried to assume he knew how someone felt, that was just wrong. No one could understand how Conan felt about his life, so obviously he couldn’t understand someone else’s.

“I haven’t spoken to my mother in about two years now. I don’t know why you miss your mother, but that’s why I miss mine.” He shrugged and let her question him, it was fair, he had questioned her.

“I don’t sleep well. Ever. I can’t shut off my brain at night.”

[Katya Love S5]

Katya raised an eyebrow in his direction, “Didn’t you, though? In order to understand what it is like to miss your mother, you’d have to believe you have an inkling of how I feel.” She rolled her eyes and looked off into the fire again. This was why she kept to herself. This was why she kept away from people. People were either too arrogant to understand, too willing to try to understand, or too annoying. Katya hated all three of those things, so she secluded herself. Isolated from the rest of the world, Katya was able to grow as a person as opposed to those people who were stunted because of what society thought they should act like, or what their friends thought they should be like. Katya was only the person she wanted to be, not the person that everyone else thought she should be. Sometimes, though, her isolation and her individuality resulted in something horrible. An argument, or a snide comment, as she was demonstrating now toward Conan. She was certain that he wasn’t a bad person, he probably was very nice, but she wasn’t willing to destroy her individuality by changing how she would normally act to spare his feelings or his pride.

She didn’t look away from the fire when he spoke again, this time about how he hadn’t spoken to his mother in two years. He said he didn’t know why she missed hers, but that was why he missed his. Katya kept her eyes on the fire. When he went on to answer her question, she was still watching the fire. After silence, Anastasia jumped up onto her chair again and licked Katya’s hand. “My mother’s dead. She has been since I was six.” Her voice was quiet as she spoke. Katya rubbed Anastasia’s small white head, and then looked over at Conan. “My grandmother says I should get over it, like, not bury the memories I have of my other… but don’t dwell on them so much. It’s just so hard, because my mother was my world.” Katya smiled softly as Anastasia jumped onto the back of the chair and started to bat at Katya’s hair. “It’s partially the reason I’m so anti-social. But I don’t mind,” she smiled again as she reached up and pulled Anastasia down close to her. She kissed the top of the kittens head before looking over at Conan again.

“Why haven’t you spoken to your mother in two years?” She asked, completely aware that she might have sounded prying but she didn’t take the question back. She asked what she wanted to know. It was whether or not he would answer that was the result.

[jacob]

Conan didn’t make many enemies. Conan never tried to get on someone’s bad side, and he always tried to befriend people when he met them. It was people like Katya that made this task difficult on him. It is taxing, trying to be kind to someone and only receiving rude remarks back. Conan could tell from the first moment he met Katya that she was not one to take up a lively conversation with someone, but Conan had nonetheless made an effort so far. Now part of him regretted it. He ignored her accusations though, as much as he longed to just throw her attitude back into her face. It really rubbed Conan the wrong way when someone twisted his words. For years he had worked hard on thinking before he spoke, tonight it would seem he was being lazy in this aspect. It is a skill to be able to say things in a way that they are unmistakable or untwistable. Conan thought he was good at it, but Katya seemed to be a pro at ripping meanings apart.

Katya loved her cat, so it would seem, more then Conan really thought to love Roman. Of course Roman was by far closer to Conan then most humans, but at the same time Conan did have human friends. This was probably the reason Katya cherished her kitten so much. When one does not have an active social life, nor many friends, one improvises. Conan had no idea what it must feel like to have your only friend be your cat. As much as he did love Roman, Conan needed human social interaction.

Conan’s mother was not dead, though she might as well have been. She had been as good as dead to him for these past two years. He did not comment on this fact though, nor try to give her advice as her grandma obviously had. He knew it would not be taken the way it was meant. Instead he answered her question. “My father has forbidden her to contact me. He has done so since he kicked me out of his house.” He spoke with an uninterested tone, as if there were far better things to talk about and this was simply business. Conan had explained this to far too many people for it to hold any more emotion then unemotion.

[Katya Love S5]

Katya listened with half an ear as Conan answered her question. She was opening her book, setting it on the arm rest of the chair, and then pulling out her wand. With a muttering of an incantation and a flick of her wand, the letters floated off the page and started to dance and blink in and out around Anastasia. It was a spell that she had mastered just for Anastasia, and sometimes even for her own enjoyment. It was fun to read the poetry in the air instead of craning her neck over the book. Anastasia, as if she knew it was coming, pounced at the floating letters and tried to tackle an ‘O’ to the ground. Katya looked over at Conan after she had waited a moment after he had answered her question. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she looked at him and held his gaze. “I’m sorry. Why is it that every family in Slytherin seems to have a father who knows what’s best?” She chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about this. Her father wasn’t horrible, he wouldn’t ever forbid her mother from contacting her; but he had moved them from Moscow to Scotland thinking that it was the best when it really wasn’t. At least in Moscow, Katya would have been able to grow up with the people who had been there for her when she was a baby. Even if she wouldn’t have set foot into the studio.

“Honestly, half the time the father is just a selfish prat who did it for reasons that would only benefit him. I can’t tell you how many students in our house have been exiled from their families. Aren’t we, as Slytherins, supposed to be the epitome of perfection? Everyone looks at us from the outside, seeing the spoilt, seemingly perfect, children or young adults that we are supposed to be. But we really aren’t. Half of us have family problems that we seem to pull out of thin air, and the other half of us don’t have a family to have problems with; thus creating inner conflict within ourselves in a way we would never had created otherwise.” Katya wondered if she was making sense to Conan at all. She had a lot of time to think about these exact things that seemed to have plagued the Slytherin house, but she didn’t know who else had taken the time to sit down and look at themselves from someone else’s point of view. “We aren’t perfect, we’re human beings, too. No one else seems to get that.”

Katya smiled softly and looked down at Anastasia who was batting at an ‘I’ now before continuing to speak; “What I’m getting at, I suppose, is that if your father has forbidden your mother from speaking to you; he must think it’s for the best. I don’t know what went on to make him do that, but from my experience ‘Slytherin fathers are always right, even if their children suffer.’ Personally,” Katya flicked an ‘A’ out of the way as it floated near her and then smiled again, “I think it’s good that you sounded so disinterested in what has happened. It shows that your father doesn’t know what’s right for everyone and that you’ve gotten used to life with him in control. Or at least… the life he thinks he can control.”

[jacob]

Conan wasn’t a thinker, Conan was a breather. Conan did not debate the concepts of life, he lived. Conan did not examine the many tragedies observed in the Slytherin house, he merely lived them. Conan had the ability to listen to one person’s problems, but he did not have the ability to examine a problem as a whole. Conan could not see the problems simply living held. When he was not paying attention to his own problems, he was focused on one other person’s problems. As much as Conan read books on the subject, or wished he thought about it, when it really came down to it, Conan did not think about society as a whole. Conan saw bits and pieces of a whole humanity; Katya’s words did not resound in Conan’s head with this issue though, he simply listened and continued worrying about his and her problems. Not Slytherin as a whole.

Fathers; that was the point he picked up on. “My father hates me because I am not exactly like him. My mother got sick two years ago and that was the last time she wrote to me. She told me not to go home because my father would be mad. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.” Conan watched the cat on the floor as it attacked the letters and then reached up to pet Roman absentmindedly. Well, it was absentmindedly until he realized that Roman was no longer on his shoulder. Conan growled and sat up in his chair, looking around the room. He’d already seen Katya get upset with Roman once and wasn’t about to give her a reason to get that way again. Roman was no where in site.
Then Conan spotted him. Roman was creeping up on an un-expecting ‘U’ floating in the air. Conan looked over at Katya and then back at his kitten and decided to just let Roman go. He watched the kitten sneak up on the letter and then jump straight up into the air at it, hooking onto it and struggling till he had weighted it to the ground. Conan laughed and looked back at Katya with a new straight face. Back to serious matters.

“My father no longer controls my life because he has cast me out of his house. Therefore I am no longer a subject of his ‘kingdom’.”

[Katya Love S5]

Katya tilted her head slightly at Conan’s explanation. She didn’t say anything, though, because she figured there wasn’t much she could say. Her mother had gotten sick and died, and sometimes she wished she hadn’t found out how she had died. Then Katya would come to her senses and realize she really didn’t care how she died. She had died. That was it. End of story. Right? No. Wrong. Not end of story. Katya simply ran her fingers through her hair and looked at her kitten as she continued to play with the letters in the air. There was silence, which seemed to be common between her and Conan, and then Katya shifted in her seat before clearing her throat; “How do you do it? Go through each day without knowing if your mother is alive or… not? I wouldn’t be able to do it. At least with my mother I knew what was going on. I didn’t comprehend it at the time, but I was only six. How was I expected to know what cancer was?” She had started to stray off topic, and as she realized this, she let her voice dim away. “I just… would be doing everything in my power to find out, but then again I’m not you nor am I in your position.” It was probably the most intelligent thing she had said all night. It was true beyond reason. She wasn’t Conan, and in reverse he wasn’t her, so they truly couldn’t understand each other or what the other was going through.

She watched as his kitten joined in on the fun. Anastasia gave the other cat a weary look before tackling another letter. Katya giggled lightly, and then looked over at Conan as he mentioned his dad not controlling his life. “I, forgive me for voicing my opinion, disagree.” Katya turned in the arm chair so she was leaning against the arm rest and facing Conan, “If your father has forbidden your mother from contacting you, and you don’t do anything to stop it or contact her… you’re letting him control your life. If you think about it logically, which a lot of people seem to lack, your father will control your life for as long as you listen to or obey, in a sense, him. If you don’t want him to control your life, contact your mother. She might be afraid to talk to you because of what your father’s capable of, or whatever, but at least then you can say you tried.” Katya raised an eyebrow as if to ask him if he understood what she meant. Sometimes she wondered if she made any sense to anyone besides herself and that was often because she never spoke to anyone at all. It was the price one paid for being an outcast, but Katya was used to it.

[jacob]

Conan sighed which filled up the new silence that might have overtaken them again. How did he do it? How did he live not knowing if the one person he loved, and who loved him, was even alive? That was just it, he didn’t know. It was so hard; trying to wake up every day without the knowledge of if any of his family cared for him, and if the one he knew did was still there to love him. It was so hard sitting at the tables in the morning watching the other kids receive letters from home, or cookies in tins from their mothers. It was even harder when he spoke to people like Katya. Conan honestly wished he knew. He wished he knew she was dead as a matter of fact. Then he would know she was somewhere better, wherever that place might be, Conan had faith it would be better then home. “I cant try to speak to her…”

Conan knew why he didn’t try. Every day it haunted him, his cowardice, but his noble intentions all at once. Conan knew his father too well. He knew what his father would do if he found out Conan was contacting his mother. Conan honestly feared for his mother’s safety. “If I tried…my mother would face the consequences.” Conan would never be able to live with himself if he found his mother had been forced to face greater hell because Conan wrote her. Conan hated his father for all he was worth. Conan hated himself for being afraid to write his mother, but he hated his father more for making him a coward.

Was he a coward? Was he a coward for not writing his mother, because he knew what his mother would have to face as a result? Sometimes it seemed that way, and the way Katya had put it definitely made it seem that way. But other times…times when he really thought of it, Conan knew his mother would not be upset at him. Conan knew his mother would understand that Conan did not write, simply for her safety. Conan knew his mother would realize he did it to protect her. “I have to let my father control my life, because if I don’t then I risk any safety my mother may have right now…if she is alive, I would hate to make her life hell. I would rather her be dead right now then have to live with that man.” Conan’s eyes trailed to the fire and he sat, taking deep breaths to remain in control over his emotions.

[Katya Love S5]

Katya had remained silent throughout Conan answering her question that hadn’t been posed as a question. To be honest, Katya hadn’t thought that it was any of her business to have said such a statement. She figured she would just let him answer and then back away from the topic, knowing that it must not be one that he would like to talk about…well… ever. But when he said that he wished his mother were dead instead of living with his father, Katya felt something snap inside of her. She shook her head slowly, “Don’t say that, Conan.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but that’s as loud as she could get it without letting him know that it was wavering. She looked away when the tears filled her eyes and tried to think of a way to explain this to him. “Each and every day I wish my mother hadn’t died. Each and every day I wish that my mother hadn’t gotten sick. Each and every day I wish… I just wish that somehow God or whoever is up there will find a way to bring her back. When I was younger I would wish that it was all a joke, a cruel joke, but a joke nonetheless. As I grew older, I realized it wasn’t. She was really dead and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.” Katya breathed in slowly and wiped at her tears that were falling down her face now.

“Your father might be a horrid man, Conan, but you shouldn’t ever wish death upon someone you love. It might be selfish and it might be horrible on your part, but once they’re gone… they don’t come back. Right now, she might not be accessible to you, you might not be able to hug her and tell her you love her or just talk to her about the stupidest things; but later on you might be able to. If she dies… you’re stuck with memories that are hollow and empty. With wisps of her favourite perfume wafting in the air as you pass someone in the hall, with her voice and her laughter whispering in your ear every time you do or say something that would have made her laugh, with images of her around corners or in mirrors or… just…” Katya trailed off as her voice began to break. Yes, her mother had died nearly 6 years ago, but Katya was one of those girls who never let go of something they loved. Her mother had been her whole world. The only time Katya could remember really being happy was when her mother was alive. Now, Katya was stuck in this perpetual depression and she didn’t know how to get out of it. On the other hand, Katya wasn’t quite sure she wanted to get out of it. She was used to it, it was familiar to her, in a sense it was what she clung to when she was lost. If she stepped out of it… where would she be?

She wiped at her tears again and leaned her head against the chair as Anastasia stopped playing with the letters and hopped up onto Katya’s lap. The kitten always knew when Katya was upset and needed her, and Katya never took it for granted. She petted Anastasia before muttering the number one question that was always on her lips, “Pochemu? Pochemu, Anya?” The kitten mewed in reply to her question as she always did, but the answer was lost in translation. Katya sighed and looked back over at Conan; “I guess… don’t give up hope, then? But don’t wish death upon her, because if it really does happen… you’ll regret it.”

((Pochemu is Why? in Russian.))