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The audience buzzed with excitement and pride as the kids walked onto the stage and settled into their seats. Though they’re hardly children anymore, are they? Daniil mused. Sticky and his peers really didn’t look like kids any longer, all tall and grown up, wearing their finest clothes for the big occasion. It reminded Daniil of his early days at university - if he hadn’t known each of them for years, the students on the stage could almost have passed for eager freshmen attending one of his lectures at the capitol.
Murky sat beside him, discussing with Artemy her plans for the summer days now that school was out. They largely involved meeting up with friends in the steppe while the weather was nice, although Artemy also had plans to teach Murky more about herbs and tinctures this summer. Artemy’s attention was drawn as Lara Ravel stood to begin speaking, and he gently tapped Murky’s hand to interrupt. “It’s starting, so let’s chat more about this later, Murky.”
Lara began the ceremony, speaking shortly about how proud she was of the students and their efforts. She did look proud, beaming as she turned and her gaze swept over the seats behind her. Eventually, she congratulated the students and announced, “Sticky Burakh, the valedictorian of this year’s graduating class, will be speaking to us next. Sticky is going to continue his education in the capitol, following in both his fathers’ footsteps to become a doctor.” She turned and gestured for Sticky to come to the front.
Sticky cleared his throat and launched into his well-prepared, thoroughly-rehearsed speech. Daniil smiled to himself as he watched the boy, who had taken this honor very seriously. He had practiced the speech over dinner every night for the last few weeks, and had memorized it word for word in the process. Daniil looked over to Artemy, who was also fondly watching their son. Artemy looked over, and they exchanged a warm glance. Artemy’s arm was slung across the back of Murky’s chair, his hand just close enough to Daniil’s shoulder to give it a quick squeeze before turning his attention back to Sticky.
The end of the speech approaching, Sticky started rattling off his thank-yous. A quiet gasp beside Daniil drew his attention. Murky was looking down, clenching her hands in fists on her lap, valiantly trying to hold back tears. Daniil reached over and patted her hand, and when she looked up at him, she whispered, barely audible, “Dad, I’m gonna miss him when he’s gone.”
Chest aching, Daniil leaned to the side and hugged her. “Me too, pumpkin. We still have another week, though, and he’ll be home for all the holidays,” he whispered back. He fussed at the pocket of his coat, drawing out a handkerchief for Murky, when he realized Sticky had stopped speaking. That’s odd, he thought, I didn’t hear the ending--
He looked up and saw Sticky, face clouded, looking right at Murky. He stared for another beat, then cleared his throat and continued right where he’d left off, delivering the last few lines smoothly before turning and walking back to his seat. For the rest of the ceremony, he pointedly looked anywhere but his family.
Remarks from the teachers followed, with Lara, Rubin, and Yulia among them. After the students had received a final congratulations from their teachers, the audience meandered outside, laughing and chattering as they found their graduates and celebrated. A large portion of the crowd broke off and headed towards the Burakh house, where a party was to be held that evening to celebrate the graduation.
Sticky laughed and chatted with his friends as the group walked, still largely avoiding eye contact with his family, and Daniil and Artemy knew to leave him be, for the moment. When they got to the house, they laid food out on tables in the front yard, and a bonfire was started, casting a warm, cozy glow over the attendees. As the night waxed on, Artemy disappeared momentarily, returning with several bottles of twyrine that were merrily distributed throughout the crowd.
At some point, Sticky slipped off, seemingly unnoticed. Daniil, however, spotted the young man sneaking through the front door and gently closing it behind him. After a few minutes, he politely excused himself from the discussion he and Artemy were having with Rubin about the clinic and made his way into the house and upstairs towards Sticky's room.
Daniil gently cracked the door open to find Sticky wiping his eyes, hunched over a large, partially packed travel bag laying on the bed.
“Thought you could sneak off without anyone noticing, hm? It’s your party, you know,” Daniil remarked. Sticky looked over his shoulder reproachfully, eyes still a bit wet. Closing the door and stepping forward, Daniil pulled Sticky into a hug. “Feeling homesick already?” he murmured into the young man’s shoulder. Sticky had grown a lot in the last few years, and he had long since surpassed Daniil’s height.
Sticky drew back, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. The lanky boy’s shoulders were slumped as he muttered, “I thought everyone would be distracted once aba brought out the twyrine. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.” He turned back towards the bed and continued packing, haphazardly picking up nearby items and shoving them into the bag.
Daniil paused, waiting to see if Sticky continued speaking. After a few moments, he began, “Why are you packing right now, anyway? We aren’t heading to the city until next week. That embarrassed about your speech, hm?” Sticky went still, and Daniil’s heart sank, already regretting teasing his son. “Sorry, that’s… I didn’t mean that, Sticky. Your speech went wonderfully, just like you practiced.”
“No, it’s okay, dad.” Sticky was shuffling his feet, as he often did when he was up to something. He seemed to want to go on, so Daniil waited. Finally, Sticky hesitantly muttered, “I kind of thought… maybe I would just leave tonight while everyone was busy. So I didn’t have to say goodbye.” He was looking at the floor as he ended his sentence in a small voice.
Daniil’s chest felt tight as he looked at his son, who was clearly miserable and embarrassed to have been caught halfway through his poorly-thought-out escape. “And what were you planning to do when we showed up in the city next week to drop everything else off?” he remarked lightly. “You couldn’t possibly fit everything into that one bag if you were going alone.”
Sticky continued meticulously studying a spot on the floorboards. “Um. I hadn’t thought about that.”
“It’s not like you to do something without making a detailed plan first, Sticky! If you’re going to leave tonight, you’d better think fast.” Daniil smirked as Sticky looked up in surprise. “Really, though, Sticky, I could understand skipping out on me, but you wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye to aba, would you? To Murky?”
Sticky looked embarrassed. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t really gonna leave tonight. I just… I saw Murky crying during my speech and it really hit me that I’m leaving. I’m-” his voice cracked and he looked away again, rubbing his nose. “I’m gonna miss you guys,” he choked out. “It just felt like it would hurt too much to say goodbye.”
Daniil cleared some space on the bed and sat Sticky down, taking a seat next to him. “Sticky, we’re going to miss you too. But you know we won’t be far away. Hell, we can take the train up and make a day of it any time you want. You’ll be back for every holiday. And frankly,” he continued, a bit loftily, “I think you’ll end up so busy with your studies you won’t even have time to miss us.”
“I know, I know. I just…” Sticky bit his lip nervously, a habit Daniil hadn’t seen him fall prey to in a while. “I’m never gonna live here again, like, as your kid. It's never gonna be the same again."
Daniil put his hands on Sticky's shoulders, looking right into his eyes. "Sticky, you will always have a place here with us. You will always be our son. Sed potest non prohibere progressum tempore. You cannot stop the progression of time. It’s hard to move forward and change, but we will be with you through it all.” Sticky sighed, and Daniil softened, patting his son’s back. “I know it’s hard, though. We’ll miss you too. I wouldn’t be surprised if Murky writes letters every day for a few weeks.”
Sticky rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like you and aba won’t be sending just as many letters as Murky.” He sat up a bit straighter. “Thanks, dad.”
Daniil smiled and tousled Sticky’s hair. “Of course. Now, what do you say we go back out there and have a bit of that twyrine you thought would be such a good distraction?”
Sticky grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Aba told me he had something a little stronger saved for us, for after the party.”
Daniiil groaned, but got to his feet anyway, tugging Sticky up with him. “Well, let’s go find out what your father decided to surprise us with, then.” As they walked back down to their friends and family, Daniil was pleased to see that with his anxieties assuaged, Sticky looked much more carefree. If he let his mind wander, he could almost imagine the lanky young boy he had met years ago, scampering off to cause mischief with his friends. He was excited to send Sticky off to school next week, but until then, he would relish the last few days with his son at home.