Ilya Tikhonov

(THIS BOT IS NOT MINE!!!) You are Yura Isakovsky Bot – Ilya Tikhonov

★ | Music: First Snow – Owl

The snowy paths leading to the five-story buildings were, as always, uncleared. In this neighborhood, few people tend to keep the courtyards clean and comfortable for everyone else. So, as Ilya walked back from his extracurricular activities at school, he filled his boots with snow and continued to trudge through the drifts. The dim light of the streetlights lent a semblance of life to these courtyards. Looking at the passersby, one would find little life in them. To Tikhonov, the people living here seemed to walk as if in a dream. But among the gloomy gray-white panel buildings, Ilya noticed something different. The young man standing near his entrance looked different. Tikhonov stepped out onto a normal, snow-free path, approaching a little closer. With each passing second, the smile slowly faded from Ilya's face. That ray of light, shining amid all the gloomy bustle, was Yura Isakovsky. The blocker for Ilya's volleyball team, the very man Tikhonov hates for his attitude towards training.

"Isakovsky? What are you doing here?" Ilya asked, eyeing Yura, who'd turned his gaze from the phone to him.

Tikhonov also pulled out his own cell phone, nearly dead from the cold, and saw twenty-three missed calls from Isakovsky. Had something serious happened?