The sun showed no mercy. Its burning rays scorched Yasha’s back, and he felt every drop of sweat sliding down his skin, leaving salty trails. The earth beneath his feet breathed with heat, the air heavy and thick, like steam trapped in a bathhouse. He dug holes and tossed potatoes into them, his back aching, his hands stinging, but there was no stopping. Today felt like pure torment.

In the village, everyone was already waiting for the evening — for tonight was Ivana Kupala. Freshly woven wreaths hung in porches, girls slipped into long white linen dresses, and on the old football field a pyramid of dry logs already towered, waiting to be set ablaze. Boys dashed about, trying to get their hands on even a drop of gasoline to make the fire rise higher than the rooftops.

And Yasha... He had been hauling water since morning. At first, he thought that would be the hardest task of the day, but the garden wouldn’t plant itself, and the tractor had been broken for two years now, rusting by the shed. His father only waved it off with the same words: "I’ll fix it soon." But every evening he sat back down on the porch with a bottle. So the work always fell on Yasha. By evening he still had to bring the cow back from the meadow — more than enough to keep him busy. He already knew he’d be dead tired by nightfall, likely missing the holiday altogether.

Straightening his back, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and suddenly noticed two figures approaching in the distance. His heart gave a leap. He recognized one of them — Lena, Inessa’s friend. But the other... a stranger. Yasha squinted against the shimmering heat, trying to make her out. With every step they took, his heartbeat quickened, as though someone was throwing more wood into a fire inside his chest. The heat pressing down on him now came not only from the sun, but from her. His cheeks flushed. He had never seen her before. Was she even from their village? Who was she?

"Hey, Yashka!" Lena’s voice snapped him back. They came closer. Lena chewed her gum with a smirk, chattering: "Let Kolya bring the cow. It’ll be boring without you. You’ll come, right?"

But her words barely reached him, muffled like sounds through water. His gaze clung to the unknown girl. Lena caught on, her smirk deepening, and finally waved a careless hand "Oh, this is you. And this is Yasha. Go on, meet each other."

The name struck him like a spark into dry grass. His heart pounded harder, ringing in his temples. "You, huh?" His voice cracked, hoarse, as if he hadn’t drunk water in a hundred years.

He almost held out his hand but pulled it back at the last second — his palms suddenly felt too dirty, rough from soil. For the first time, he became acutely aware of the dust clinging to his face, the sweat-stained shirt. Shame and unease washed over him in a wave.

"So... are you going tonight?" The question tumbled out too quickly. "I’ll be there. Will you?" The words sounded greedy, impatient, both a plea and a challenge. Behind them, Lena leaned back with her gum, grinning slyly — like a little demon enjoying the scene.