The thrill of the hunt stirred something long forgotten in Daniel, something buried beneath layers of apathy and depression. Leading the way ahead of Darima, he jumped enthusiastically from one promising mound to the next, eagerly brushing aside a thin layer of rotting leaves with his stick in search of mushrooms. So far, he'd been quite lucky: twice he had stumbled upon clusters of hidden boletus beneath the fallen foliage, found several chanterelle mushrooms, and even the prized porcini. In contrast, Darima, taking her time and enjoying the hunt leisurely, had only managed to fill a third of her bucket, while Daniel's was already half full. This fact pleased him immensely.

"Break tiiime!" Darima called out wearily, waving to get his attention. She put her hands together in a pleading gesture. "Take a break, Daniel! I'm thirsty and hungry!"

"Alright!" Daniel agreed reluctantly, straightening up and removing his sweaty baseball cap. The bright sunlight immediately dazzled him, and he squinted, letting the warm rays bathe his face and create a red glow behind his closed eyelids. He shifted slightly to stand under a pine tree and took a moment to appreciate the edge of the forest - something he hadn't done while preoccupied with mushroom hunting.

The forest seemed almost ethereal in the slanted sunlight filtering through the treetops, giving it a magical quality akin to a scene from "Alice in Wonderland." The trunks of pine, larch, and cedar trees were bathed in a warm, golden light, resembling giant, glowing candles. This gentle luminescence complemented the vibrant, joyful colors of the forest edge. A light breeze stirred the pointed grass and flower tips, silently dropping delicate petals to the ground. The air was filled with the buzzing of gadflies, bees, and the faint hum of mosquitoes, while a cloud of gnats hovered nearby. The forest was alive with the occasional creak of wood and the soft sighs of the earth beneath the hot sun.

Daniel inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet, complex scent of the forest, and leaned against the warm tree trunk, feeling an unexpected peace wash over him. It was a moment of pure happiness that made him want to smile for no reason - something that would surely have earned a reproachful shake of the head from Baba Songolik.

The spell was broken as Darima entered the clearing noisily, her energy disrupting the quiet. She dropped her bucket, spilling the bouncing mushrooms, set down a backpack with water and food, and plopped down beside them, removing her hat and waving it for relief.

"You had to rush around like that, huh? I'm exhausted, and if you get lost, Songolik Gidargunovna will have my hide," she said.

"I'm sorry. But how could you get lost here? Baikal's right there as a landmark," Daniel gestured towards the invisible lake.

"It's piss easy to get lost here, even with Baikal," Darima laughed when he raised his eyebrows. "What? I can use a little language too. Anyway, let's eat," she said, untieing her backpack and spreading out a bag on the grass like a makeshift tablecloth. She started unpacking their simple meal: hard-boiled eggs, sliced homemade bread, soft butter, and raw-smoked sausage. Daniel added his own provisions, pouring kurunga into plastic cups, which exuded a tangy, fermented milk aroma, and took a bite of an egg half.

"Look at this! I picked some wild garlic on the way here. There could have been more if you weren't rushing like a wild animal," Darima teased, holding up a bundle of herb with purple-white roots. "It's a miracle I found it; it's past wild garlic season, but it's cooler in the lowlands." She cut off the dirty tips with a mushroom knife, folded one stalk several times, and dipped it in salt. "Here, try it like this."

Daniel hesitated before following her example, folding the stalk and dipping it in salt. The tart, salty taste immediately filled his mouth, awakening his appetite. He eagerly paired the wild garlic with a piece of sausage on a soft slice of bread.

"Delicious," he mumbled, grabbing two more stalks. "Thank you."

"You won't go hungry with Auntie Darima around," she replied cheerfully, digging into her own food with gusto.

After their hearty meal, they both drifted off to sleep. Daniel stretched out, rolled up his pants to his knees, and let the sun warm his legs as he dozed.

"Oh, you're so pale," Darima whispered enviously as she packed up the rest of the food. "I'd love to have skin like that."

"No, I just burn all the time, and it's not worth it," Daniel replied lazily, looking at her. "Is that why you stay out of the sun?"

"Yeah," Darima sighed with sadness, pulling out her phone to show him photos she had saved. "Look at these pictures of Korean actresses. Aren't they beautiful? Their faces are narrow, eyes big, noses high, and their skin is so fair. Now look at me," she pointed to her cheekbones, nose bridge, and eyelids with a hint of disdain. "My skin is dark, my cheekbones are huge, my eyes are narrow, and my nose is flat! Ugly! And I don't even have a crease on my left eyelid, see? It makes that eye look smaller than my right eye! Ugh."

Daniel was stunned, unsure of how to respond. He looked from the gallery of similar, delicately pretty Korean actresses to Darima's own vibrant face. Her features, untouched by plastic surgery, were natural and unique. High cheekbones, gracefully arched eyebrows, softly tanned skin, almond-shaped eyes with straight lashes, a gentle nose with a flat bridge, and full lips - all contributed to her distinct beauty.

"You're beautiful," he said sincerely, though she didn't believe him.

"Yeah, right. You could say I'm model material," Darima laughed, inhaling the scent of wild garlic and the fresh, young air. "I wish I had your complexion, eyes, and eyelashes! Look at this fold and crease," she said, touching her eyelid with a friendly, non-flirtatious familiarity. "You've got a double eyelid, which is considered beautiful. And at least shave - walking around with that beard, you're not that old."

"You're truly very attractive," Daniel insisted, waving off her playful fingers and feeling a blush creep up his neck. "Darima, there are countless standards of beauty in the world. You can't follow them all. Focus on your own unique features. I think you're perfect as you are, even without a crease on your eyelid - I didn't even notice it until you pointed it out. It adds a charming asymmetry."

"Asymmetry isn't charming," Darima retorted, uninterested in his reassurances. "I'll fix it once I have the money for surgery. I'd like to raise my nose a bit," she indicated half a centimeter above the bridge, "narrow the tip," she pinched the end of her nose, "and maybe lighten my skin."

"You don't get it!" Daniel exclaimed in frustration. "First of all, messing with your skin can have serious consequences. Secondly, your face will become just like everyone else's. I've seen so many women like that - attractive but not memorable, all with the same nose, cheekbones, and lips. Like mass-produced plastic Barbie dolls. Ugh! Men aren't as dumb as you think, Darima!"

"And I think they are, since they only pay attention to those Barbie dolls," Darima shot back, pulling his bucket toward her. "Let's sort these mushrooms before we start a fight. You don't understand anything, coming from Moscow to our little village. Anyone would look like a model to you compared to the elderly folks here."

"Not just any model," Daniel protested, offended. "And why are you throwing that mushroom away?"

"It's a mushroom," Darima giggled, holding up a bright red mushroom with white spots. "Why did you pick a fly agaric? It's poisonous, Daniel!" she teased, her tone mockingly affectionate. "Was it just because it looked nice?"

"Yes," Daniel admitted grimly, eyeing the vivid red and white cap. "I thought of giving it to Baba Songolik as a beautiful gift from the forest." He was glad he hadn't; she would have laughed at him even more.

Darima tossed aside a good portion of his collection and stood up, stretching and cracking her joints. "I'm wiped out, and I haven't even filled half a bucket."

"Wiped out?" Daniel echoed, standing and admiring her lean, graceful form. It was fortunate they hadn't delved into discussing her figure; Darima might have criticized her long torso and shorter legs. He wished he could tell her she was perfect in her natural beauty, that there was no need to alter or change anything. All she needed was to love herself as she was.

But the words that came to his mind felt artificial, unintelligible, and capable only of creating distance. Daniel seized the opportunity to change the subject.

"Wiped out means tired," Darima explained, dashing into the bushes with the energy of someone who could not be completely wiped out.

They took another break three hours later, by which time Daniel was exhausted from racing through the forest. Darima dumped his catch carelessly on the ground, but this time she quickly sorted out the unusable ones and praised him.

"Well done, you're a fast learner."

"Thanks," Daniel braced himself for the praise, ready to tread carefully through sensitive territory. Then he plunged in, fearing he might be cut off. "Don't think I've always been this moody, and please believe me, Darima. I once dated a girl with darker skin than yours, shorter, wider hips, who also thought she wasn't attractive enough. But she had eyes as beautiful as yours," Daniel, sensing the gravity of the moment, traced the outline of her eye in the air with his fingers. Swallowing the lump in his throat as he looked into her uncertain face, he continued tracing the imaginary lines.

"The same sensual lips, the same distinctive nose. And she was the most beautiful person in the world to me. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Darima. And if you don't feel complete inside, no one else will see your beauty."

Darima listened intently, her lips slightly parted in the heat, her eyes wide with confusion. Daniel continued after a moment's hesitation.

"You don't need to change anything about yourself, or you'll spend your whole life trying to fix surgeons' mistakes. There are so many different people in the world, and not everyone will like you, and that's okay. You don't like everyone, either," he waited for her tentative nod and, feeling he had made his point, finished with a chuckle. "But you should wash off the greasy cream because you look like Baba Songolik's buttery pancake."

"Oh, you!" Darima laughed and swung her hat at him but missed as Daniel dodged. He picked up the bucket, grinned at the weight of it on his back, and took off in the direction where they had left their bikes. Darima followed, crunching branches and cheerfully threatening to show him the stars for calling her a pancake.

By the bicycles, she quietly said, with a genuine smile, "Thank you, Daniel," and raised herself on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.

Daniel didn't respond - he felt that any more words might dilute the moment. Embarrassed, he poured the mushrooms into his shoulder bag, strapped the empty bucket to the rack, and helped Darima with her things. He hid a smile in his beard - the day hadn't been wasted; he had given something valuable to a good person today.

The feeling of having done the right thing grew inside him, becoming more exhilarating with every pedal stroke, with every meter covered on the dusty red road. And despite the fatigue, the backache, and the weight on his shoulders, he smiled wider and wider as Darima, singing something indecipherable but jubilant, pedaled ahead of him. At the top of the hill, he stopped and looked down at the quaint village of Cheruke. "Cheruke means 'silence' in Evenki," Baba Songolik's calm voice reminded in his mind. "Here, everyone could find peace."

The silence settled in him, allowing the tender sprouts of hope to take root. And today, there was a new feeling - that he could change everything. Not now, not in a week, but someday he would be strong enough. For now, he would focus on letting go of the tension that had been weighing him down.

Daniel got comfortable, adjusted the straps of his duffel bag, and pushed off, rolling downhill. He gained speed, the wind whistling in his ears. As he raced down, he lifted his hands from the handlebars, releasing all the tension. He spread his arms wide, feeling the wind tug at his shirt, the bike rattle beneath him, and Darima's cheerful shouting as she caught up.

The sky remained endlessly blue, the sun still blazed, the pine forest remained serenely peaceful, and he, Daniel, felt just a bit better today. And as he thought about spending August on Baikal with Darima rather than Alexander, he laughed triumphantly.

At the bottom of the hill, the world suddenly jolted, the bike clanged and flipped, sending him crashing. The hard landing knocked the wind out of him, and his vision darkened, but the triumphant joy remained. Daniel groaned and tried to sit up, noting with relief that he hadn't fallen on his back; the rigid frame of the backpack would have hurt his spine. He smiled at Darima, who ran over to him. She pulled the bike away, checked him for injuries, and then, biting her lip to keep from laughing, snickered.

"You're a bit fucked up, aren't you, Daniel?"

"Not even a little," Daniel agreed peacefully, accepting her outstretched hand.