Chapter Text
He looked up at the dark, star-filled sky, making him feel very alone as always while he hid on the roof of the Moskva Orphanage, it was not deserving that name as it was more like a jail.
The dispassionate and underpaid teachers couldn't care less. As far as they were concerned it was but a means to an end, a job that meant some money and housing.
Illya Kuryakin wove his way through this life of despair, disease and disinterest, picking up some bad habits that he added to his survival skills. He swore he’d make it beyond this...