A rare moment — I’m sitting in the office with absolutely nothing to do.

Oh! Why don’t I try logging into that trendy new network where people supposedly find old friends?

 

Alright… first name, last name, email, phone number…

Done!

 

Hm.

Simple enough.

 

I won’t upload a photo yet. Don’t really know how, and besides, there’s no need for it right now. Maybe people won’t like it.

 

So, so, so…

Here’s the friend search.

Who should I start with?

 

And then I freeze. Sitting there, going through everyone I was once close to at different points in life. Strange thing — some people I can’t even remember by full name anymore, and others… I simply don’t want to see now.

 

School… our class… a tight-knit gang of boys and girls…

 

Let me check…

 

Haven’t seen or heard from them in ages.

Oh… not found here either.

 

Alright. What about this one?

Nope…

 

So much time has passed…

I suppose my military years remain the brightest memory of all.

 

Whoa! There’s a whole community here. Let me see who I recognize…

Scrolling…

 

No way…

Impossible!

I was told he disappeared… maybe even died…

 

Yeah. That’s definitely him.

 

My heart suddenly starts pounding.

 

Ah, so you can send messages here.

 

“Hey! Glad to see you. Send me your phone number so we can talk. Here’s mine too, just in case…”

 

“Send.”

 

Click.

People really do invent things…

 

…

 

This station…

That exit.

 

I walk up the stairs, studying people’s faces.

Everyone is rushing somewhere, no one looks at me.

 

But I’m searching for contact.

Afraid to miss that moment when another pair of searching, piercing eyes suddenly picks me out from the gray crowd.

 

That restaurant over there…

I walk toward it…

 

And yes…

 

As always, he’s already watching.

Looks like he’s been observing me scanning the crowd for quite some time.

 

He smiles and raises his hand.

 

I quicken my pace.

Reach out my hand…

 

And instantly end up in a tight embrace that last held me more than ten years ago.

 

We stand there like that, patting each other on the shoulders, swaying slightly, cheeks pressed together in silence.

 

“So, how are you? Wow… almost the same as before. I thought I wouldn’t recognize you.”

“I spotted you the moment you came out of the passageway.”

“Yeah… well, I didn’t.”

“Come on. I booked a table — it should free up in a minute.”

 

We walk into a crowded, noisy hall.

Sit at a table, drink tea, chat — about this and that.

 

And not only that.

 

We’ve both been through a lot. Each of us — something difficult and entirely our own.

 

He had done well in our military profession. Studied brilliantly, loyal in both service and friendship. I wasn’t falling behind either, but for him it all seemed to come naturally…

The prospects ahead of him had seemed so promising to me…

 

And then…

One day, he just left.

For an ordinary civilian life.

 

Time passes. We remember our youth, our service, friends, commanders… Some are gone now… We fall silent, feeling the weight of it.

Then he begins telling me his story.

 

Something feels off…

He’s different…

Or maybe I used to see him differently…

 

He keeps talking about endless complications, business, lack of time.

 

Up before dawn, then work, work, work, public duties, politics.

 

He barely sees his children.

 

The oldest has smashed all the neighbors’ windows with a slingshot and constantly shoots sparrows and pigeons.

 

His wife nags him, complains.

 

Ah…

 

“Listen… do you really need all this?

Do you honestly believe this is what you need?

Do you truly feel this burden of responsibility?”

 

“How could I not?! You understand this is necessary right now. Everyone expects help, ideas, our work… do you realize how important it all is?!”

 

I listen…

 

And suddenly I catch myself thinking how many unnecessary things we’ve learned to call important.

 

Important… yes. Business, politics… yes.

But not more important than your health, your peace of mind, harmony and love in your family.

 

No matter how hard you try, you’ll never truly know what people need — or whether they need it at all.

 

But your children growing up without your attention, your care… without even your presence…

 

I look at him, listen…

and realize — he sincerely believes in all of this.

 

“Listen… bring your oldest boy to me. To the shooting range.

You were a great shot back in the army.

 

If he likes it — I’ll train him.”

 

…

 

I stand at the edge of the Darkness.

 

Watching.

Listening…

 

As if I can still hear it all — the subway, the street, the restaurant…

 

Footsteps?…

 

No.

Must’ve imagined it.

 

Not yet…