Yuri doesn't answer. But he doesn't interrupt, either. As horrible as the story is, right now it just feels like that. A story. Someone else's life, outside of his own head. It's long enough that he's able to get hold of things again. Breaths growing deeper. The awful push behind his eyes fading.

He couldn't even cry at the funeral.

Crying for himself seems so incredibly selfish.

It's unclear what he's supposed to say to all of that. That sounds fucked up. If it's real. Probably it is. Shitty country like this, it's not a stretch. Why should they treat their army any better then people.

For a while Yuri stares out the window. Not really seeing anything.

"...Then why can't you just let me go. Why a year."