Dear You, Dedushka

A/N: Finally, I have finished it. This is the conclusion, after nine years of blood and sweat poured into it. To my readers, especially those who would picked up this story again after many years, thank you for your time. As Billy Boyd who sang Last Goodbye would say, I bid you all a very fond farewell in this journey. I won't stop writing anytime soon.

Disclaimer: Higurashi no Naku Koro ni is property of 07th Expansion. Call of Duty: Black Ops is property of Treyarch published by Activision. A fan work, no copyright infringement intended.

Epilogue: Blue Scarf Beneath the Pear Tree

It had been a just another summer night in 1990. Rena and Reznov were sitting alone at the living room, her father was having some extra work done at the fashion house. Rena was researching notes. Reznov was looking at one of the photos, this one a picture of him and Raisa together, during their last leave together before leaving for the front to participate in Operation Bagration.

He slowly lifted his head to see Rena looking at him curiously. "Are you alright?" she asked, her face full of concern.

He nodded. "I am fine. Just recalling old memories."

"You miss Grandma?"

He nodded slightly. "Yes. Actually, I feel like I'm getting closer to her everyday."

Rena's eyes went wider. "You're not saying..." A week ago, he had his checkup at the Irie Clinic and suffice to say, his health was not exactly on par with anyone's standards, with the garden variety of ailments that afflict one at old age, chief being heart problems. Reznov carried his pills and had been advised to limit his consumption of alcohol, red meat, and fatty foods. That was after a heart attack in 1988. They narrowly dodged that bullet.

"Don't worry, my snowmaiden," he said cheerily to allay her worries. "When you're young, you feel invincible, ready to face the world. But the passage of time would cause you to start thinking about the finity of human existence. Wise men do and perhaps, are amazed they're still alive to look back at they have achieved in life. I practically lived my life fighting, Rena." He chuckled. "Perhaps the old warrior in me seeks rest."

Doubling down on her concern, she relaxed. "You feel like you wanna see her again, don't you?"

"It's a good question. Will I see her again? Will I be in some paradise awaiting you, my snowmaiden? Having been born in Soviet Russia, I never gave much for religion, simply allowing for the ceremony in which me and Raisa wed by the priest. My respect for religion and its place in human culture and the human heart went up a bit here."


"I can go on about it but it would amount to undue worry. What's important to me that I've been part of your life, I'm proud of it, and that I live fond memories for you to treasure."

Rena couldn't help but smile, that sad Russian smile for these small bittersweet moments. "I understand and know this, I love you with all my heart. I will - we will always remember you."

"Thank you, Rena. Perhaps that's what I want to tell you: I want you to cherish the memories we make." He handed her the picture of him and her grandmother together. "At my age, I feel it's only proper to think of one's mortality. Perhaps I desire to leave this world as cleanly as possible. I may have something that should be dealt with, part of what I live you behind." He described what he had in mind though Rena looked appalled initially, had come to understand what it all meant. More than that, she agreed it was more than just an obligation to be done, it was to be part sewing some loose ends and heal the rift.

Reznov woke up to found himself sitting on a chair, next to the pear tree* that they planted outside their house. He looked at himself to see that he was young again, the man who he was in 1945, when he was ready to be demobbed and return home.

Yes, he was still in Hinamizawa but it felt different. Out of curiousity he stood up - and almost startled himself back in his chair, seeing he was able to walk again. What's going on!? he though.

"Good afternoon, Viktor," Dmitri Petrenko greeted, a smile on his face as he walked over to his former comrade-in-arms.

"Dmitri!" He grinned. It was one of those dreams, the better dreams he had lately. He can tell why because he can see the distinctive Russian cottages and greenery of the Urals mingling with that of Hinamizawa. He can even feel the heat, the kind that swathed the man under its clear blue skies. With his newly-found leg power he approached him, they both wrapped each other in bear hugs, each clearly missing the other. "Hero of Stalingrad and Berlin!"

Dmitri chuckled. "I don't get by that epithet anymore," he said, patting him in the shoulder. "'Comrade' would be much better."

"And I am glad to see you, my comrade." He felt his eyes water. It was appropriate for this moment, no need to put on his brash facade. "My brother. What can I do for you?"

"Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing." He looked at Reznov. "I see that you're dressed just for the occassion."

"What sort of occassion?" he asked, wondering why this dream seemed very real.

There was a joyous twinkle in his eyes. "Welcome home, Viktor."

At that moment the wind suddenly blew against him, forcing him to face away and he saw the most unexpected sight in his life.

Standing under the pear tree was Raisa, his dear wife, slender and proudly standing as a poplar tree, wearing a blue shawl* that contrasted vibrantly with her reddish-brown hair. She had her was radiant as the sun, filling his heart with joy.

As if in a trance, he approached her slowly, could not quite believing but also visibly relieved. He could not let go of her eyes, the lovely grey orbs that they were. Could it be...?

They were face to face. "Raisa, is it you?" he whispered softly.

"Viktor, my love," she finally said, "it's me." Then the long lost husband and wife took each other into their arms, entwined and refusing to let go for their that was sundered was now made whole again.

"I miss you, Viktor," she said, her head on his broad shoulders, tears streaming across her face.

"I too, my Raisa," he choked, eyes also glisten with tears, his cheek touching her hair and his heart releasing the agony and joy he had been held for so many years. "I too."

"How is she?" she asked.

Reznov knew who she meant. He told her honestly as best as he could, knowing how much grief it would cause them both. It was the whole story.

"I should've been with her," she noted sadly. "She never had to go through that, never done what she did."

"And I should've not rejected her out of hand," he said with regret. "I should've been a better father. That I made my amends five years later does not excuse my actions that day. And a better friend." Then they went on to catch what had been missed between the two of them.

"I'm so glad to hear about our granddaughter," she said happily, "Rena will thrive in the world you left her."

"I highly doubt it." Reznov had his doubts, having lived through the darkness of the shadow world of black ops and intrigue. "If you have seen the things I've seen, and I don't want you to see those horrible things."

"You need not to worry. You gave her strength, your joy, your wisdom, so that hers can grow. And not only hers but to her friends. And to Zoya's child."

At that moment, a car pulled up to the Ryuugu house and they both look. The doors opened up and it a man and a woman came out, a boy and a girl followed. He instantly knew. It was Rena and Keiichi Maebariyovich (son of Maebara). And it was their children. The two children giggled around their parents.

"Okay kids, who wants to play Cattan?" Maebara asked.

"We do!" they cried excitedly.

"Raisa, Dmitri, slow down," Rena said with a giggle, "your father still has to set up the game. If you behave, you'll get ohagi and milk."

"Yaaaay!" They all went inside.

Dmitri was with them. "They named their son after me," he noted, mildly surprised.

"That they do." Reznov smiled. "And they named their daughter after you, my love."

Then Raisa brought her shawl around Reznov and brought him close. "And I'm happy for it. Why don't we enjoy this fine summer together, shall we?" They both giggled.

"Most certainly," he answered in his most debonair air.

"Great, I know a place where to start," offered Dmitri. "Chernov knows of a spot..."

Under a summer day that never seemed to tire, all of them frolicked and played as children, in an innocence they thought they'd never get back, much like the Games Club. They fished, caught butterflies, tell funny stories and bad jokes, and recall the best times of their lives.

By the end of the day, the some had began its descent, marking the beginning of sunset. Dmitri and Chernov sat together to fish from the river while he and Raisa sat together under the peat tree, looking at the setting sun together.

"Pheew!" he exclaimed. "What a day it was. I never had this much fun in my life."

"You were quite the firebrand now as you were back then, my dear," she quipped. "Only a man like yourself can keep up with me."

"Oh, Raisa, your sense of humor can be troublesome." They laughed together at that. Looking at the setting sun made it bittersweet. Now this wonderful moment has to end. "So... my love, what now?"

She stood up, brushed the grass off herself and helped him up, their hands held together. With her sunny smile, she replied, "I think you owed me a dance."

At that moment he heard the strumming of violins, the sonorous chords of their favorite song. Siniy Platochek - Blue Shawl. A radio played the melancholy lovesong and the two began to dance naturally to it, their slow waltz a scene from many a classic romance novel. Under the pear tree they gazed longingly at each other, at a face they never thought they would see again, the face of someone whose heart would complete them. Warmth engulfed them as they felt weightless and they seemed to float not in the front yard but throughout the cosmos.

"I love you, Viktor," she said softly.

"And I love you, Raisa," he purred, hearing and speaking those beautiful words once again.

Then they twirled once more, and the dance slows one last time. They brought their lips together at last, never parting, enjoying these last moments as the song ends.

It was a private ceremony. All who mattered were gathered to mourn the passing of one of their own. Viktor Reznov had passed away in his sleep after the first week of summer. Rena was heartbroken at his death and now it was time to help him rest one final time.

The ceremony was a Russian Orthodox One, followed by the Shinto rites led by Rika. The mourners came to pay their last respects and say their last goodbyes. A number cried such as Rena, Mason, and amazingly enough, her wayward mother and her prodigal daughter Zoya, comforted by her son she had borne of the affair that led to the divorce that nearly broke Rena. It had not been easy to bring them together for all inclyding Reznov when he was alive, with the years of pain and sense of betrayal they carried amongst themselves. In fact, it was the last major act he did before he passed. What had bern achieved in spite of the bad blood was nothing short of a miracle. There they all sat together.

"I wish I got to know him," the young boy, still in high school, said.

"I'll you all about him," Rena replied, still choking. "Of what a good man he was."

"We'll tell you his story," Mason said, "not about how he died, but how he lived."

The ceremonies have ended and its now time for people to say their farewells. Starting with Rena, everyone told the gathering of how much Reznov had meant to them, often of days in their lives with him, a witty anecdote and so on. The redhead was obviously the most profound but no less moving, of learning of being her grandfathet, his oddysey of finding her and getting to be with her, and of how much he enriched their lives inculding the reconciliation prior. The rest of the Games Club shared their experience with him, especially when he shared his wisdom and some of his own life stories to them.

After they and some of the other residents of Hinamizawa had shared, it was the turn of his American comrades. Mason was more restraint but more telling, of having met Reznov in prison and then planning their escape, careful to mask the still-classified reasons for how it happened. After Woods and Weaver, even the ice cube Hudson took the stand, in which he thanked Reznov for his "advise" in helping them with a "matter of national security," i.e. Nova-Six, and for helping them for a while as a friend. Hudson was surprisingly subtle delivering his piece. His companions had known the ways Hudson can talk but they never expected him to be this moving.

"To one of the bravest men I've ever met," he concluded, "may you return in peace to your brothers-in-arms."

As it was over, all saw Reznov's casket taken the village cemetery and lowered into a grave alongside Raisa's. Looking on, the grief has softened though it lingered in some. On his headstone were writings in Latin, Cyrillic, and Kanji carved on it. They say this:


Next to his, his wife's headstone read:


Here he returned to the earth's bosom as the earth was piled on the coffin, rejoining his wife. Mason saluted, doing a half-job of containing his sobs. People put flowers in his grave. People began to depart or stayed around to chat a bit. In this day of sadness friendship blooms. Zoya's son had struck up a conversation with Alex's son, David, much to her delight. Then she saw a most curious sight among the trees. "Rena, can you see them?" she asked offhandedly.

"See who, Mother?" Rena asked. It was the first time she addressed Zoya as mother, since the divorce. It was said without bitterness or disdain. Her eyes looked to where she was looking and lo and behold.

Beneath the trees in a clearing lit by sunlight shining through gaps in the trees was Reznov and Raisa. The light around them was very ethereal. And with them was a handsome young man. Zoya and Rena could not believe what they're seeing. Then their eyes locked together all they could see was happiness, no pain, no sorrow. The couple waved their hands, bidding them goodbye. Mother and daughter did the same, sad smiles in their faces as they saw their mother and grandmother when she could have been alive. Mason stopped by their side.

"That man is Dmitri," he said, noticing the young man. As if on cue Dmitri and Reznov saluted. Mason returned the gesture, moved. In what felt like an eternity, Viktor, Raisa, and Dmitri shimmered in the distance until they faded into the pristine clearing.

"Goodbye, Father," Zoya finally said, the memories of that moment filled the hole inside her which she thought can never be filled.

"Goodbye, grandpa, grandma, and Dmitri," Rena whispered, happy to see her grandmother alive in person, even if from a distance and not caring if it's not real. It was real for her.

"Dasvidanya i udachi," Mason said softly. Woods stopped beside Mason, having noticed them staring into the forest.

Woods came over to them. "What's over there, Mason?"

Mason stifled his emotions back in. "What we all needed to see."

The gruff ex-matine smiled at his brother ex-marine and patted his shoulder. "He won't want us to mope around too much. Come with us, I'll get you a beer." Woods's heading straight for the pub was his way of honoring the dead, a modern version of the ancient libations that were poured to dead.

With a nod he followed him, and the two women followed them, with the day finished. Rika and Hanyuu became last, looking at the headstones. Rika left her own humble offering, two bunch of red poppies, on their tombs.

"In time, we will all join you," Rika said. "May we pass into the bliss of eternal rest."

"May we all have long fruitful lives," Hanyuu said sadly. They too departed as the summer breeze swayed the winds.

As Reznov died the world outside of Hinamizawa had changed forever, the Japanese price asset bubble collapsed in 1991, which surprised the villagers as they were counseled with sound financial advice, making their village seem like an island in a sea of economic recession. In the Middle East, the First Gulf War resumed in earnest after negotiations with Saddam Hussein failed and the Coalition went from protecting Saudi Arabia and its all-important oil fields to ejecting Iraqi forces from Kuwait, decisively defeating it in a dazzling display of technological firepower and electronic precision, together with live news coverage directly from the conflict itself, changing the way war is fought and more importantly, how it would be perceived. The Soviet Union was struggling against internal turmoil as nationalist sentiment, emboldened by glasnost, in its Baltic, western, Caucasian, and Central Asian territories slip from its grasp, declared null and void the Union and their independence and the political situation continues to deteriorate, culminating in the August Coup, which led to the dissolution of the Soviet Union in the day after Christmas 1991. In Yugoslavia, violent agitation of ethnic nationalism has led to its breakup and bloody wars fueled by ethnic tensions. Mount Pinatubo erupts in the Philippines, causing the second most powerful terrestrial eruption in the 20th century. Apartheid ends in South Africa, marking the transition from Afrikaner rule to a more inclusive government. Colombia continued to buckle against the Medellin Cartel's narco-terror campaign and FARC violence as Pablo Escobar intensified his war against the legitimate government to refuse extradition to the United States for drug trafficking.

Hudson received word from Noriega, deposed two years earlier, of a possible link with the rival Cali Cartel working with his former cronies in the Panamanian Defense Force, the FARC, and an unknown third figure, known as "Dorado" based out of Haiti. The CIA pursued the lead to Panama, where Hudson's team was brutally ambushed, only Woods was recovered alive. He was kept under guard at a top-secret facility called "The Vault." Weaver, who had not been part of the team, would effectively take care of young David Mason after his horrfic kidnapping by unknown assailants which left his grand-niece, his mother, dead. Only they would return to Hinamizawa for the first death anniversary and then for twelve more.

The village had survived the bubble's collapsed, because of its selective invitation of new residents, which did not raise real estate prices. Many villages and hamlets of the national micronation movement collapsed when the bubble burst, causing them to merge together or folded into the larger cities and towns. Hinamizawa remained its own entity, its own fortunes dipping less than for many, yet still enough to help recovery. It prospered and its people entered the new decade with stouter hearts, wiser minds, and free spirits, ready to leave the nest to embrace the larger world around them.

Dmitri Petrenko and Viktor Reznov would be honored posthumously for their deeds during the war, the former being revealed to be the real flagbearer atop the Reichstag. Their story was proven by the war archives in Moscow and the artifacts held by the Ryuugus. Petrenko's status was further elevated by Maebara's paintings that focused on Dmitri. Of course those were allowed, as by consensus Washington and Moscow kept the Arctic mission and the related Nova-Six files classified. There was nothing either side can gain from their publicity.

While Viktor and Raisa remained buried in the village's, Reznov had his heart removed as per his will, which was eventually buried in his birthplace in St. Petersburg, on the day of his death in Hinamizawa, bringing his saga full circle.

"Dorado," also known as Raul Menendez, begins building his presence in the underworld from the shadows, investing his profits from drugs and arms through shell corporations into technology, shipping, defense, and medical companies, successfully speculating in the Dot-Com boom via insider trading. He begins surfing internet forums and message boards, laying the groundwork for Cordis Die.

A/N: This has been an amazing experience for me to conclude this fic. What started out as a fancy became an epic journey for me to conclude this story. Now that it is finished. I can focus on my other projects. I feel bad that this has fallen away from its relevance compared to the early years. Yet, I'm happy for the way it turned out. Thank you, friends, for reading my piece and I hope you all have a wonderful day. Until next time.

To Elred Bluegreen and Hwikek, without them, this fic could never have took off.

*This references to Siniy Platochek (Blue Shawl), one of the most popular Soviet songs during WW2. Originally a jazz song composed and conducted by Polish Jewish composer Jerzy Petersburski, it quickly became popular amongst Soviet audiences and many versions with different lyrics sprung up and the most memorable version was sung by Claudia Shulzhenko. Russian journalist and writer Vasily Grossman, noted for his works on the Holocaust from the Soviet perspective, Soviet atrocities, antisemitism in the Soviet Union, and postwar political repression, noted it being a favorite of Red Army soldiers, who often went on the attack with cries of "For Motherland, for Stalin, and the Blue Shawl!"

*That was a reference to the 1930 Soviet silent movie Zemlya (Earth) by Ukrainian director Alexander Dovzhenko, last film of his "Ukraine Trilogy" along with Zvenigora (1928) and Arsenal(1929), which featured the pear tree in a pivotal scene where an old man dies as well. His films were criticized by Soviet censores because its themes were not inline with official Soviet propaganda and for its focus on Ukrainian themes and perspectives, which left him marginalized in later years but today, critics praise them for their artistic merits and their contributions to the montage theory of cinema. Enigma hit single, Return to Innocence, had its intro inspired by Zemlya.