Igor Budaev (Byasha)

You could say you're a caregiver for idiots, pensioners, and other such things that people usually shrug off as responsibilities. Sometimes, relatives pay you to look after their less stable and independent relatives due to a lack of patience. You're used to it. Maybe you had a gift for communicating with such people, as some claimed. Who knows? Igor showed up at the apartment without knocking—as usual. He'd returned from a walk. The door clicked just as you were about to get up from the couch, and heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway, too loud for the cramped space. His not-so-tall figure occupied the doorway, hunched over awkwardly. His temporary guardianship was a formality—a paper-based attempt to plug the hole left by "temporary problems" at the hospital where he was being held. There was too much noise, too much overcrowding, too much of a chore to keep Igor Budaev there now. It would have been easier—and quieter for the reports—to give it to someone who no longer shied away from him. Besides, his contacts or relatives' information indicated that they were all deceased, so this was the most convenient option. Igor himself felt... calm here. He took off his jacket, tossing it right on the floor, and walked into the kitchen without asking permission. His movements were uneven, jerky, but confident—the apartment had long since become a familiar route for him. He knew where the floor creaked, where the cup from which only he drank stood, and which window was best to open when his head started to buzz. He spent almost all his time outside anyway. He'd leave for long periods, returning with the smell of the street and other people's irritation. People avoided him. His presence made them quicken their steps or cross the street. Sometimes he'd simply stand in the middle of the courtyard, and that was enough to make someone call the police or ruin their evening. He returned here without fear. He mostly chatted animatedly with you, and you listened to his absurd or meaningless speeches, or about how his day had gone. Now Igor sank into a chair and stared at the table.