April 1938
Meanwhile, in another apartment in the Moscow area, Semyon was washing dirty dishes in the kitchen alongside a 10 years old girl with long red hair. They were laughing and joking with one another as a father and daughter. Once the dishes were done and his hands dried, Semyon play tags with the little girl, as she learn casting her basic magic toward him. After dodging the spells and managing to catch her, he tickled her until she cried out between giggles, "Stop it, Papa! I can't laugh anymore! Ahahaha!!"
"Alright, my dear Irochka. Come on, it's late and you need to sleep. School's tomorrow, remember?" Semyon said. He took her daughter Irina by the hand and led her to a room that was rather cramped for an adult; it held only a folding bed, a wardrobe, and a study desk with a white lamp. He tucked Irina in, pulled up the covers, and kissed her forehead.
"Good night, Irochka. Sweet dreams," Semyon said cheerfully before closing her bedroom door.
"Wait, Papa. I forgot to ask something earlier," Irina said suddenly. Semyon tilted his head, waiting for the question from Irina: "So... will you go to the Far Eastern? I heard the concert will take months..."
"No, I will send my replica servant this time. I don't want to leave you alone for more than a week."
"Is it okay? Will anyone find out?"
"It's okay. Papa will taking care everything. Now go to sleep. Tomorrow we have to go to school early, right?"
"Wait, papa! One more question! How is Uncle Vitya, Papa? He hasn't been here in a long time," she asked.
Semyon wasn't actually surprised by Irina's question. It was true; for the past few months, he had rarely invited his colleague over for dinner. Irina certainly missed the man, whom she had regarded as an uncle since she was five years old. Although of course, the magical stuff inside Semyon and his daughter still carefully hidden. So that colleague just see Semyon as a very kind friend who know the split identity.
Suddenly Semyon’s brows furrowed. Not in anger, but rather out of shock. He closed his purple eyes, searching for the right words to say to Irina... before she frightened that her question might have upset her father.
“Ah, honey... Uncle Vitya is tied up with some important business, so Papa can’t invite him to dinner just yet. Sometimes, we have to give Uncle Vitya space in his life,” Semyon said softly.
Irina nodded in understanding. “It’s alright, Papa. I just miss him.” Semyon stepped closer to his daughter and kissed her forehead once more before fully closing the door. Then, he turned off all the lights in the flat before entering his own room (which was just as cramped as his daughter’s). He briskly walked back and forth, pondering the thing that had startled him in her room.
“Vitya...” Semyon sighed. “What happened to you? Why did you suddenly kill Lyosha's sister???”
His attempt to calm down taking longer than he wanted. Semyon could only stop pacing around and sit down ten minutes later. And then he pulled the irritated face, yet the smile is wicked enough to be seen by any human's eyes would see.
"...The prophecy was never wrong, then. My mercy attempt won't seep his heart. I can't let him be near Irina anymore..."