[i]"Da."[/i] 

Yury did not say another word to the man who threatened his sister's life. He did not have to. It was not as if there was even the least question that he had a choice in the matter. There was no lie in this man's voice. He would - and could - kill Galina long before Yury could do a damned thing to stop him.

The only relief he knew in these moments was the split-second he took to follow the enormous man's gesture, toward two more blue-clad bodies that, it seemed were the remnants of their mutual enemy. Yury nodded, once, as he turned back to Souma's guardian and released the hammer on the pistol with his thumb. Slowly, so very slowly, he tucked the Colt into his belt as he moved, sheathing the [i]shashka[/i] as well as he paced warily to his sister's side and knelt beside her.

Galina heard Daisuke's words, but her weary, half-lidded gaze was entirely for Souma. She did not miss his mute protest to his Fist's threat. There was nothing, of course, he could have done to stop the man, but Galina found even this futile effort strangely comforting. 

"It is... All... Right... " she whispered, and in this moment Galina could not possibly express all she meant in those simple words. Stay or go, live or die, there was a peace that settled over her like a warm summer rain, a rest she had not known in over a year. [i]"Sayonara,[/i]... Souma."

She felt strong yet gentle hands on her face, her shoulder, tenderly yet insistently pulling her gaze from Souma to look up into her brother's face. "Yury... " A faint ghost of a smile greeted him, her beloved big littlest brother, though the worry in those amber eyes hurt her to see.

[i]"I'm here, 'Lina,"[/i] he said softly in Russian, smiling to hide the wince when he saw the angry purple bruise that was spreading across one eye socket, down her cheek and into her temple. Beneath that, the tell-tale red welts about her slender throat, fingers and thumb had wrapped so tightly, sent a rage snarling through his heart. 

Yury only smiled wider. 

[i]"I'm going to patch you up 'Lina... Here... Let me have this now... "[/i] His gaze returned to Souma's guardian, deliberately, to flag his intent as he carefully, slowly, pulled the [i]kindjal[/i] from Galina's white-knuckled grasp. 

[i]"Don't... Don't lose... Gift... Papa's... Gift... "[/i]

[i]"No 'Lina, no,"[/i] he reassured his sister with all the tender patience one might have for a very sick child. [i]"I will not lose your kindjal. Hush now, I only need it for a moment and I will keep it safe. I promise." [/i]

Swiftly he cut the pale green cord that bound her ivory [i]obi[/i], tucking his sister's blade into his belt beside the pistol before unwrapping, as swiftly as he could, the lengths of the [i]obi[/i] from about her waist. The soft white cloth of the [i]nagajuban[/i] beneath her rose-colored kimono had been near saturated to crimson across her torso, front and back, and this was no place for Yury to try to assess the extent of her wounds. He had not been the least bit idle while Galina had been in Japan, and he knew where they must go - but they must go [i]now,[/i] if it was not too late already.

Yury's jaw set grimly at that thought, and he knew he must attend to more than simply wrapping his sister's gunshot wound. His hands worked swiftly as he spoke, intoning the Lord's Prayer over his sister, contented to see her lips move even if there was no sound, matching his own voice word-for-word. 

[i]"Would you like to make confession, 'Lina?"[/i] His stomach turned, his throat thick and tight, the words damn near choking him. He was no priest - hell, there could not possibly be anyone further than. But Yury simply could not take the chance... 

Galina nodded, just the faintest of movements as she forced her eyelids open once more. [i]"Was... Not... Good daughter... Disobey... Father... "[/i] Her breathless voice went on for some moments longer, recalling all her trespasses, great and small that came to her in pieces, wind-blown leave on the currents of a dying mind until her whispers came no more. 

[i]"And what of him?"[/i] Yury asked gently, his gaze flickering meaningfully toward Souma for a moment. There was no judgment in his question, no condemnation, only the desire to see sister unburdened entirely if she must leave this world.

Galina let her eyes close, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she shook her head almost imperceptibly. [i]"That... Is no... Sin... "[/i] 

[i]"As you will, 'Lina,"[/i] Yury said tenderly as he tied off the makeshift bandages about her chest, both hands reaching beneath her body as he lifted her, cradling her to him as if she were not much more than a babe as a pained whimper escaped her throat. For all his loving care, he knew she was slipping further from him with every passing second.

[i]"I... Want... To go... Go... Home, Yury... "[/i] she whispered as a single tear wound its slow, torturous way down her ruined cheek, soaking into the cloth of his bloodstained shirt. [i]"I... Want... Want... My Papa... Want Papa... Yury... "[/i] 

The gentle, heartfelt cry of a lost, hurting little girl tore at her brother, and he grimaced as he bent to kiss her forehead. [i]"Shhhhh... Hush now. I have you 'Lina... "[/i]

Yury stood, slowly, obviously of no possible danger to Souma's watchful guardian, his hands full entirely with his dying sister. "I have mine," the Cossack replied, taking a single step back though not yet ready to turn his back on the other warrior. "And we are leaving... "