Chapter Text
Vasily Pavlichenko did not understand why he had chosen to chase the other sniper for as long as he had. At first he had told himself that it was for revenge, for what the man had done to his group and himself. Maybe it was frustration? He had too much faith in his skills as a sniper just to let someone else play him like that. But now, after all those times imagining what he would do once he caught him, all the times he had sketched that annoying face from memory, Vasily stopped. There he was now. Right in front of him. He would not even have to aim from this distance.
Ogata he was called. Vasily had heard Sugimoto and his group use the name when they had seen the drawings and later seemed to talk about the sniper. Ogata was currently lying beside the train tracks, alone and bloodied. He was still. Too still. The Japanese Arisaka Type 30 Rifle was still firmly in the man’s hand. Vasily quickly jumped off his horse and rushed to the man’s side. His previous thoughts brushed aside. His injured arm protested the swift movements.
‘Is he dead?’ Vasily found himself asking in his head. What would that be to him? Had he not wanted the man dead all this time? Ever since that cold duel in the forest. He had meant to shoot him dead in that forest too, but failed. Wouldn’t it be a good thing that the man was finally dead. Or was he disappointed that it had not been his bullet that had ended the raven head’s life? He had had several chances after the border too, but they had all failed as well. There seemed to be quite a lot of blood around the head painting the surrounding ground slowly red. Vasily knew that a deadly headshot would be cleaner than that. A dead man bled very little.
Vasily crouched beside the mangled mass of limbs and fabric, carefully placing his hand on Ogata Hyakunosuke’s neck. He jerked his hand in surprise, but put it back to double check. There was a pulse. A faint one, but it was there. The man also wasn’t cold. He was still alive. Vasily could still have his opportunity. He could finally kill the man.
‘Where was he bleeding from? Which were the worst injuries? He had fallen off the train, right? Did he hit his head?’ Vasily carefully moved Ogata around to check the man for injuries. With the very limited medical knowledge he had, he tried his best to understand the man’s injuries.
There was a small puncture wound on the man’s stomach. It was not a bullet wound, Vasily could tell that right away. It looked too small and precise to be from any of the knives he had seen the other soldiers or even the little girl carrying. The little girl. She had a bow and arrows. Was this an arrow wound then? If so, was the tip poisoned?
Vasily dug around his belt for his own knife. He had seen the girl, Asiripa, do this before. She had cut off the meat from around the cut. That might stop the stuff from spreading. The Russian had no idea if this arrow had been poisoned, but he knew that if it had been and he did nothing to help, Ogata could die. And that he would probably suffer while he did so. Vasily had had bad food poisonings before. He thought that it might feel something like that. He would not wish an end like that even for his worst enemy.
‘Then why not let him die? The girl probably had her own reasons to shoot him’, Vasily ignored the voice of his thoughts as he quickly dug the blade into the flushed meat. The sound it made made the Russian flinch. He could taste bile in his mouth.
There was a slight jerk from Ogata but other than that, the man laid still. The lack of reaction probably wasn't good either. There was a large gash on his left temple, that too bleeding steadily. If Vasily did not get the bleeding to stop, Ogata would bleed to death before the Russian even got to thinking about what to do next, much less his revenge.
Vasily dug around his bags for the gauze he had stashed there before. For his wounds. Just in case. He ripped some of the Japanese sniper’s cloak up to make up for the lack of wound care he had with him. This would have to do for now. Ogata really needed to see a doctor. The bleeding needed to be stopped soon.
He also noticed that the man had some bandages already wrapped around his lower leg. He took them off to reveal a bullet wound. Had he managed to hit the Japanese when they had dueled in Goryokaku? That was the only thing that came to his mind. He had definitely hit something back then. It did make him feel slight pride and joy to know that the shorter man had definitely had a hard time walking after an injury like that. Vasily pushed the feelings back and rewrapped the wound.
Standing up, Vasily thought about how to transport the smaller man. They had the horse. Ogata had probably fallen off the moving train. Ilya had explained to him once that you should always be mindful of brain or spine damage when someone has fallen down from a great height. He had lectured Vasily about that when the younger had fallen off his horse before. No matter how good the patient might look, there could always be damage made inside the body. Inside. Vasily had no idea if the man had internal bleeding either. He bit his lip in frustration. Ilya would have a good idea about what to do. He would always be the one to point out to Vasily what he did wrong.
For now, they had to get to a hospital. Then he could hear a professional’s opinion and go on from that. Vasily ripped up the rest of the cloak to help secure the smaller Japanese man to his back. Ogata’s breath wheezed but he did not stir once. Brain damage was a thing to consider. Ogata had still been holding onto his gun and Vasily had had to pry it off the smaller man’s hands. He briefly thought about what to do with the weapon, deciding to throw it over his shoulder to rest next to his own. He could think about that later as well.
Vasily hopped on the horse and took out the map he had gotten from the Russian army. He had understood that the group had been close to Hakodate. The Japanese army would be busy dealing with everything going on there at the moment. They might just be able to slip away unnoticed. Most of the men must think of Ogata dead anyways. Why not let him take him then? Sure, he might be considered a war criminal in Japan in need of punishment if caught alive. Well, let’s say that he is dead then. Vasily did not notice the possessiveness in his own thoughts. It sounded completely logical to him at the time.
According to the information given to him by the army, Sapporo was one of the bigger cities up in Hokkaido. The hospitals there would be a better choice. He would deal with the massive language barrier and other problems when the time came. Like the fact that he was clearly a Russian soldier seeking medical help in Japan. Also, he really did not have that much money on him. And what little he had probably could not be used in Japan anyways. Vasily glanced back at the guns he had. Maybe he could sell off one if need be. Ogata probably would not mind but he would still sell his own two first.
Vasily set off following the train tracks. He would have to move through the night. If his information was correct, he could follow the train tracks all the way to Sapporo. Coal was an important resource in Hokkaido and there were several railroads built to help move it around the country. The Russian would just have to be careful not to be spotted by the Japanese army. They would probably love to question his motives for being in their country. He also did not know if Ogata was a wanted criminal in his country already. Neither of them could be caught. They would not take the risk.
It was a good thing the horse had had a good rest before. Vasily had tried to estimate a time for their travels and ended up with at least two, probably three days of traveling if he gave the horse some time to rest. Considering the possible spinal or brain damage, they probably should stick to a steady gait instead of trying to trot to the city at full speed. Definitely no galloping this time. Vasily pet the horse’s mane as it snorted in annoyance.
Vasily made sure to check on his new travel partner whenever he could. He would try to adjust their position to make it more secure, or feel Ogata’s face and neck for signs of life. Vasily had put his bashlyk on the other man, making sure to wrap it around his neck and face to keep him warm. He hoped the man would be warm enough without his cloak. It had been a good way to cover his uniform, so they might have to try and find a replacement for it soon. Maybe Vasily could try and steal a blanket from the hospital in Sapporo. Guess the Japanese army would have a lot more to talk to him about than just his nationality. He had stolen a horse already and was constantly thinking about what he might have to steal next.
Vasily had no real desire to return to his home in Yelenika. His family was poor enough as it was. They had been proud to see him join the army. If he came back now with an unknown man in tow what would they think? Yes, Vasily Pavlichenko had quickly decided that Ogata would come with him to Russia. Vasily just needed to get them back to Sakhalin. They could find transportation to Imperatorskaya.. The stolen horse might have to stick with them for a bit longer than expected. From there they could hop on one of the trains heading west on the Trans-Siberian railway. They could make it from Vladivostok all the way to Saint Petersburg. There was still a lot of military transportation coming and going from Japan after the Russo-Japanese War. If they could slip into the crowd as wounded soldiers from the war, they could just escape into Russia. He could try to steal the injured man a Russian army uniform in that jumble. One more thing on the list.
But where from there? Vasily had sent a telegram using the help from one of the Japanese men in Sugimoto’s group. He knew Russian surprisingly well and was patient enough to both try and read his messages and listen to his slurred and mumbled speech. Vasily had wanted to send a telegram back to inform them that the man connected to the assassination was confirmed killed in the Akou Prison attacks. While he could not personally confirm the kill, the guards probably could, if needed. Tsukishima had allowed the Russian man to send the message, as he did not want the Japanese army to be pulled into the political mess that was the current Russian Empire.
Vasily would probably have to personally go to see the men in charge in Saint Petersburg and explain what he saw. He knew the Trans-Siberian went all the way there but he really was not that keen on going there. He just wanted to get to a good hospital in Saint Petersburg or Moscow where they could look at both their injuries. Vasily had shown his face to one doctor on their base to get some first aid but left soon after to chase the group of Japanese soldiers. The edges of the tears to the flesh were beginning to turn red and felt hot to the touch. The cold of the winter had helped with the pain and kept some of the possible bacteria at bay. With the weather warming up, it was a matter of time before that would give him trouble as well. It was really just a miracle the Russian had made it this far with just sheer willpower and his want for revenge. Vasily hoped they would have doctors in either of the big cities that could work on his jaw and face as well as Ogata in general. And of course that the Empire would help with a wounded soldier’s medical expenses. He really did not have the money for this and never had had. Work at the border did not pay well.
Vasily would have to try his best to get an evaluation on the other man’s condition before the long train ride. They might also have to take the risk of staying in Imperatorskaya until they were fit to travel. Vasily had heard from other soldiers that the whole train ride easily took over a week to complete one way. There were still many men from the war being treated in Sakhalin, so they could try to get help there. Vasily would have to be on high alert. He had after all effectively deserted his country when he left to chase Ogata around Japan. His wish was that no one in the military had noticed a border officer going missing for some time. Even though everyone else from his group had died. Seeing the corpses, maybe they had thought that he had died as well. He would also need to prove that he had not been the one to kill them if it came down to that. The injuries were a dead giveaway. A Russian sniper would neither blow up their target or use the kind of bullets found in the bodies.
The Russian let out a long sigh. It was not going to be easy. Honestly, he had no idea why he had even begun acting on such a stupid idea. He just hoped that he could be done with the military as soon as possible when he got back to Russia and that they would not try to reward him or make him an example to the young soldiers. He did not need the glory. It had not even been him who had killed Kiroranke. All he wanted was a quiet life somewhere far away from the big cities so that he could finally focus on his art. He wanted to start over.
Ogata's quiet mumblings stirred Vasily from his thoughts. It was now dark outside and they were traveling by moonlight. The tracks were easy to follow.
The raven head was clearly not all lucid and kept mumbling something in Japanese that the Russian soldier could not understand. Vasily decided to uncharacteristically reach out and pet the smaller man’s head. He tried his best to keep away from the gash. He kept at it for some time until he could not hear the Japanese anymore. Although he had picked up some words from Sugimoto’s group, it had been hard to even make out what Ogata had been trying to say. Maybe he was in pain. Probably. Vasily would have to hurry up. But first Vasily decided to let the horse take a small break after about three more hours of walking. He had found a small water source near the tracks and tied the horse to a tree.
Carefully untying the fabric around his waist and shoulders, Vasily laid Ogata down on the ground. They could not make a fire. He could not risk them being spotted. He dug out his army canteen, filling the bottle with water from the lake before pouring some out onto the deep metal meal container. He still had a bit of dried rice stuck to the bottom of it. Mixing the combination together well with one of his spoons, he took a small bite.
Yup. Just as bland and tasteless as he imagined it would be. Vasily glanced around. He really was not confident enough to start foraging for anything to add to the mix. This would have to do for now. Maybe he could try and trade in some of his gear when they got to Sapporo. He turned to Ogata and tried his best to feed the wounded man as they ate their meal in silence. He managed to get a couple spoonfuls and maybe a sip of water into the wounded man before he seemed to fall more or less unconscious again. Vasily saw it best to take a quick nap as well while they waited for the horse to eat and rest. He really hoped they could make it to Sapporo tomorrow. Positive thinking was key.
Vasily strapped Ogata to the front of his body this time. He wanted to have a better look at the man as they traveled. He had felt a little hot when the Russian had felt his forehead before. He would have to make the horse run if the Japanese got any worse than this. It was also easier to carry both their rifles this way.
It was easy to get lost in thought while riding. Or it was better to keep thinking to try not to fall asleep to the steady rocking of the horse under them.
So, after Saint Petersburg, they could go north from the city. Vasily had remembered that one of the men he had worked with had spoken about the large number of abandoned Russian izbas in the Russian countryside. Many people wanted to move to be closer to the big cities. They would usually take literally everything there was to take, even the timber, but sometimes they would leave with just the personal they could fit in a carriage. Sometimes they were in a rush. The empire had also been trying to cut down on mir communities with a law permitting private ownership of land. They wanted to create a new faithful class of landowners. Maybe they could settle in one of these abandoned izbas near the border of the Grand Duchy of Finland. If the empire wanted him to continue his military service, he could always guard the border there. It did not make much a difference where he guarded it. A border was a border. Vasily had never been to that west of his country. The thought got him kind of excited. He wondered what kind of animals they had there. Did they have different kinds of trees? Did they get as much snow as Sakhalin?
This time when they stopped to take a break, Vasily tried his best to try and clean off any of the blood on their clothes. He rubbed them with snow, trying to at least get the most visible stains off. If they managed to make it to the hospital tomorrow, it would be better if they did not just waltz into town covered in blood. They wanted to avoid attention as much as possible.
Before his nap. Vasily had dug through his crossbody bag for anything valuable he could bargain with in Sapporo. He found two squirrel pelts he had thought lost. He also decided that he could let his handgun go if it came to that. Maybe some collector would be willing to buy it from him for a good price. Wishful thinking.
Ogata had been staring at the Russian as the taller man had thought about their next move. Through all the pain and cold, a tinge of recognition sparked in his head. He knew this man from somewhere. Although he could not move, which in itself was probably not a good thing, Ogata did not feel like he was necessarily in danger either. His brain felt like porridge. Sludgy, cold and sticky porridge. He blinked slowly and moaned. His head hurt. His stomach hurt. His arms hurt. It was weird but his legs did not really hurt that much. Ogata could not recall what had happened to him. Probably nothing that good if he was feeling this terrible.
The Russian was by his side in an instant, checking him over. Ogata closed his eyes to the warm touch. The large hands went over the pain on the side of his head, his stomach and even his hands. When the man was done, he carefully wrapped Ogata back into a secure cocoon. Ogata let his consciousness slip away.
Vasily poured fresh water onto a piece of cloth, trying his best to wipe off the dried and fresh blood on the Japanese man’s head injury. He would have to check on the other injuries as well. The head wound was still bleeding lazily, even after a day. It looked quite deep. Vasily hoped that it did not go all the way to the skull. That would be a very bad injury. Even Vasily could tell that much. The wound on the stomach was warm to the touch. Probably the reason for the seemingly high temperature. Vasily changed the bandages to that one as well. He gagged as he pulled the final layers off the wound. There was a smell developing. One of the injured man’s legs had begun to swell. The right arm did not look right either. Vasily sighed, trying to adjust his own injured arm. They better make it to Sapporo tomorrow. He was running out of not just bandages but also food and energy.