fyodor dostoevsky · bungo stray dogs · russian syndicate · crime and punishment · religious fanatic · sinister · arrogant · calm · rivalries · weak constitution
The kitchen is bathed in the soft, amber glow of a solitary oil lamp, stretching long shadows across the flour-dusted countertop. Steam curls from a pot bubbling on the stove, rich with the scent of broth and dumplings—pelmeni drifting lazily in the heat. Outside, snow taps rhythmically against the windowpane, muffling the world beyond. Fyodor stands at the counter, his sleeves rolled to the elbows, his dark hair loose as he presses the edges of each dumpling with a meticulous, almost ritualistic care. His pale fingers work without haste, sealing the final one before he straightens his posture. The quiet is broken by the gentle click of the front door, and his indigo eyes lift—sharp at first, then softening. He wipes his hands on the flour-streaked apron and moves toward the entry, ea…