Arthur took just two steps to follow her when, suddenly, he saw her return just as quickly, her hands on her hips and her brow furrowed.
"Hey... where exactly is Italy?" she asked with all the seriousness in the world.
Arthur blinked, not knowing whether to laugh or worry.
"...Very, very far away."
"Oh, OK," she said, nodding as if it were irrelevant information. "Then let's go!" And she darted off again, leaving Arthur wondering how she had survived this long.
XXX
"Look, Kiana. We're here," he said, pointing to a spot in cold Novosibirsk. "And Italy is... here." His finger moved to the boot-shaped spot.
Kiana narrowed her eyes.
"It looks close."
"No. It's not."
"But everything fits on the map... so it can't be that far away."
Arthur closed his eyes, counting to three so as not to lose his patience.
"In real life, it's not the size of a sheet of paper, Kiana. It's thousands of miles."
She blinked, as if she hadn't heard him correctly.
"Thousands?"
"Yes, thousands, and it's not a straight line: there are mountains, rivers, roads, borders."
Kiana frowned, clearly not understanding the magnitude.
"But if we start early tomorrow and don't stop... how long would it take?"
Sigh.
Arthur looked at her with a mixture of forced patience and accumulated fatigue.
"Kiana... we simply can't walk to Italy. It's not a question of wanting to, it's impossible."
Kiana opened her mouth to reply, but Arthur raised a hand to stop her.
"Listen, we already have a clue as to his whereabouts. That's more than we had this morning. The best thing we can do now is rest, regain our strength, and think clearly tomorrow."
She pursed her lips, crossing her arms as if she were being deprived of a toy.
"But... we could make some progress."
Arthur shook his head, his patience beginning to wear thin.
"No, Kiana. We're not going out in the middle of the night."
Kiana puffed out her cheeks, crossing her arms with a pout that seemed almost childish.
Emilia, who was watching from the small table by the window, intervened in a soft voice:
"He's right, Kiana. If we're going to do something tomorrow, we need energy."
Arthur took advantage of the moment of calm to go to the small kitchen in the room. It wasn't an impressive place: a couple of old cabinets, a stove that took a long time to light, and the few groceries they had bought hours earlier. Even so, he managed to prepare something simple but comforting: two hot dishes and a steaming teapot. The aroma began to fill the room, and little by little the atmosphere softened; even Kiana, between bites, stopped grumbling.
When they finished, Emilia lay down on her bed, her eyelids already half closed, and Arthur turned off the lights, leaving only a dim lamp on. Kiana settled into hers... or so he thought. As soon as she got under the covers and began to relax, she heard soft footsteps.
She opened her eyes and saw her: Kiana, barefoot, slipped into her bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"It's much more comfortable," she murmured, snuggling up without giving him a chance to argue.
Arthur sighed resignedly and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the familiar warmth Kiana radiated beside him. The silence in the room became thick, broken only by Emilia's soft breathing in the other bed. He was about to drift off to sleep when something made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
A feeling... as if someone were watching him.
He opened his eyes slowly and, without moving his head, let his gaze drift toward the window. The curtain was barely swaying, but behind it, in the darkness of the street, there was a still shadow. He couldn't make out a face, only the certainty that a pair of eyes were watching him intently.
Arthur narrowed his eyes, remaining still as he stared at the window. For a moment, the silence became oppressive, so much so that he could clearly hear the rapid beating of his own heart.
And then it happened: as soon as the shadow realized that their eyes had met, it melted away in an abrupt movement. It was so fast that Arthur couldn't make out how it was retreating; in the blink of an eye, the silhouette was gone. Only the curtain trembled, pushed by an icy draft that entered through the crack.
Arthur slowly sat up, his muscles tense, his eyes fixed on the darkness of the street. There were no footprints, no sound of footsteps, nothing to indicate where it had gone. However, the feeling of having been watched was still there, clinging to his skin like cold sweat.
He looked beside him: Kiana was fast asleep, curled up as if there were no danger at all. Emilia was also resting. Arthur, on the other hand, remained alert, his chest tight with the certainty that the shadow had not completely disappeared.
He had simply decided to wait... from a place he could not yet see.
XXX
"Hey Arthur, why are your eyes all red? Didn't you sleep?" Emilia asked as she bit into a piece of bread with egg. Her tone was casual, but her gaze betrayed genuine curiosity.
Arthur blinked a couple of times, as if he had just realized how tired he was. The steam from the tea in front of him clouded his thoughts, and for a moment, he considered simply telling the truth... but quickly dismissed the idea.
"It was Kiana," he finally blurted out, setting the cup down on the table.
"Huh!?" Kiana almost choked on her bread, staring at him with wide eyes.
Arthur leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose wearily. "She wouldn't let me sleep. She climbed into my bed and started moving around as if she were fighting monsters in her dreams... and every five minutes she kicked me in the ribs."
Emilia looked at him in surprise and then turned to Kiana, who puffed out her cheeks like a child who had just been blamed.
"Liar! I slept peacefully, like an angel," she replied in the most innocent tone possible.
Arthur raised an eyebrow, barely containing a wry smile. "An angel with steel boots, then."
Emilia couldn't help but laugh, although she tried to cover her mouth so as not to sound rude. "Well, that explains your eyes... but maybe today you can sleep a little longer in the afternoon."
"Mmm, sure," Arthur replied, taking another spoonful of egg as if that settled the matter.
Kiana, still indignant, banged her fork on the table.
"Hey, don't look at me like that! I didn't do anything wrong. Besides..." She paused, looking away with a gesture that was meant to be innocent. "Sleeping with company is more comfortable."
Arthur raised his eyebrow, sighing.
"Comfortable for you. For me, it was like sharing a bed with a hurricane."
Emilia giggled again, this time without hiding it.
"I think I understand why you look so defeated."
Kiana puffed out her cheeks and pointed at Arthur with her fork.
"Then today I get to sleep with Emilia! Let's see if she says the same thing!"
Emilia choked on her tea and coughed.
"Please, don't even think about it..."
Breakfast continued with that strange mixture of complaint, laughter, and annoyance, and although the shadow of the previous night still lingered in Arthur's mind...
XXX
The fresh morning air enveloped them as they stepped outside. Kiana walked ahead, light on her feet, as if convinced that Italy was just a few blocks away. Emilia watched her in silence, with that mixture of curiosity and tenderness that she seemed to reserve only for her.
Arthur, on the other hand, walked with his hands in his pockets, a couple of steps behind, his mind working overtime.
How did I end up in this? he thought, watching Kiana's white hair bounce with every movement. I know perfectly well that it's impossible to walk to Italy. The sensible thing would be to find transportation, plan the route, save money... but of course, that would be too boring for her. And here I am, following in her footsteps again.
A sigh escaped his lips.
He could have insisted, made it clear that we couldn't just jump into this. But then... she looked at him with such confidence, as if nothing could stop her. How is one supposed to say no to that? In the end, she always convinces me, no matter how absurd it sounds.
Ahead, Kiana turned with a broad smile and open arms, walking backwards as if celebrating an invisible triumph.
"Come on! We're running late!"
Arthur tilted his head, almost amused in spite of himself.
Late for what, if we don't even know exactly where we're going... he thought. And yet his feet continued to follow her, as if her stubbornness were a beacon impossible to ignore.
As he continued to string together more thoughts, mired in the contradiction of following Kiana without questioning too much, something inside him sounded the alarm. A dry instinct, like a bell ringing in his chest, screamed that something was wrong.
¡!
He tried to react, to raise his voice, to tense his muscles to get into a defensive position. But his body did not respond as quickly as his mind. It was as if time stretched out for a moment, and in that lapse, a hand emerged from nowhere and grabbed him with superhuman strength.
They dragged him into a narrow alley without giving him a moment's respite. The ground changed beneath his feet, from the polished stones of the main street to the damp dust of the passageway. The shadow of a high wall swallowed him up in the blink of an eye.
Kiana continued walking ahead, gesturing enthusiastically, and Emilia watched her intently, unaware that Arthur had disappeared from her side. Their voices faded into the air as if the distance had multiplied in seconds.
Arthur struggled, but the pressure on his mouth was firm. He barely managed to turn his head: all he could see was the open street and Kiana's figure getting farther and farther away, oblivious to the fact that he was no longer there.
The alley was dark, damp, with the echo of drops falling on a broken pipe. And in front of him, still hidden in the shadows, he could make out someone who did not want to be seen, but who had clearly waited for that exact moment to separate him from the group.
Then he saw him: a tall man with silvery white hair and blue eyes like ice. The black trench coat accentuated his imposing figure, and at his waist he wore two white pistols in holsters. There was just one detail that was impossible to ignore... he was missing an arm.
The stranger opened his mouth and said calmly, "Don't make a sound... I'm not here to hurt you, I just want to talk to you for a while."
Arthur clenched his teeth, biting back his words as his mind raged: Talk? Then why the hell does it look like you're kidnapping me?
The silver-haired man continued, without losing his composure. His voice sounded calm, too calm for the tension that filled the room.
"If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done so already," he murmured, tilting his head as if measuring Arthur's every reaction. "I just need you to listen to me."
Arthur looked at him suspiciously, every muscle in his body ready to react. He couldn't take his eyes off the guns at his waist, even though they were still holstered. Part of him wanted to scream, another part wanted to run away... but something in the stranger's gaze kept him rooted to the spot.
Arthur stared at him, barely lowering the tension in his shoulders. He pretended to breathe more slowly, as if he were considering what the stranger was saying.
He nodded slowly.
The man raised an eyebrow, believing for a moment that he had convinced him. A slight look of relief crossed his face, and it was at that moment that Arthur took advantage. He spun abruptly on his heels and ran away, screaming at the top of his lungs.
"¡Help-!"
He couldn't finish. A shadow caught up with him with inhuman speed; the stranger's hand closed over his mouth and pushed him hard, pinning him to the ground. Arthur's scream was muffled as he felt the stranger's weight on top of him, crushed, his face pressed against the ground, unable to make a sound other than a muffled groan.
"I warned you..." whispered the silver-haired man, his voice now much harsher, almost cutting. "Don't make me be rough with you."