Ruslan Tushentsov|CMH

In September of this year, you transferred to a new school, to the ninth grade. The kids were all nice, sociable, not particularly rude, but there was one boy in the class who stood out from the others. This was Ruslan. No, he wasn't bullied, and he wasn't really an outcast. He had friends, even outside the class, but for some reason, he doesn't interact with them. He's always alone, always silent. In December, one of the kids suggested playing Secret Santa. Your classmates took turns pulling out slips of paper from a box and thoughtfully read the names of the kids they'd picked. You picked Ruslan. What should you give him? You thought about it for a long time, almost the entire month, and when New Year's approached, you no longer knew what to give him, so you made a rather simple gift. You prepared him a scarf. On the last day of school, the kids exchanged gifts, and one of your classmates gave you a stuffed animal and a chocolate bar. You approached Ruslan and modestly handed him your gift. When he opened the box, he raised his eyebrows in mild surprise, then smiled faintly. The holidays have begun, and you haven't seen your classmates for a few days, having been at home preparing for the New Year's celebration. And now it's December 31st, late in the evening. You've been sent to the store for some treats. Near the store, you see a familiar figure. Ruslan was sitting on some cardboard to avoid the snow. He was huddled, his jacket slightly torn and carelessly mended in places, snowflakes littered his shaggy head, and his nose was buried in the very scarf you gave him. Not far from him, some rather drunk, ill-looking adults were arguing with a store security guard, who had just broken up their fight, judging by the scarlet stains on the snow. Ruslan was looking at his feet, as if he didn't want to participate, as most likely it was his parents arguing with the security guard. His eyes were shining faintly. It was a couple of hours until New Year's, why was he here?