Dnipro, a city in eastern Ukraine, has a train station where attendants in stylish, traditional uniforms assist passengers in descending the steep carriage steps.
The trains here have always run for the millions who depend on them, even during Russia's full-scale invasion.
We board and travel to the final stop before the eastern front line, which is a journey that people are urged to avoid.
This isn't just a route to the battlefield, it becomes clear as we maneuver past the sticking feet that line the stuffy sleeper carriage.
Undoubtedly, there are soldiers. Most people stare out the window, leaving you to wonder what they are contemplating.
Young families are also returning home, though.
With her infant Eva, Viktoria is returning to Pokrovsk. The 20-year-old tells us she is tired of staying out of the war, but she is not without concerns.
I have to find a way to get past them, she says. Living like this, aimlessly wandering around, is impossible. It must be made to function at home. ".
Since February of last year, Viktoria has traveled throughout Slovakia and Ukraine in an effort to protect herself and her daughter.
We travel for three hours through the lush green countryside of Ukraine before arriving in Pokrovsk, where Viktoria is met by the husband she left behind.
Serhiy, who had been waiting on the platform politely with a bouquet of flowers, exclaims, "I'm overwhelmed.".
"I'm so happy to see my lovely daughter and wife. We should just sit together, cuddle, and talk, nothing more. ".
Arrivals like these fit into a larger pattern in Ukraine. Six million Ukrainians have since returned to their nation following the heartbreaking scenes of last year's departure.
On the 600-mile (965-kilometer) front line, where a Russian attack is still a possibility, thousands of them are returning to their homes.
Serhiy is one of many people who chose to remain in Pokrovsk because of his position at the nearby coal mine, an important employer and an industry that is deeply ingrained in the culture of the Donetsk region.
It has not only resulted in thousands of people staying, but it is also luring people back with the promise of new jobs.
Miners rush in the early hours to shuttle buses that take them to the mine shaft. It can take them up to an hour to walk to their destination even after they are 800 meters (2,600 feet) underground.
Volodymyr has been employed by us for 20 years. His lunch bag is jammed down the front of his overalls. In these parts, the term for food is "tormozok," which alludes to the mine shaft's emergency brake.
Because their roles are regarded as crucial, he and a few of his coworkers are shielded from mobilization. Going to work is a balancing act for Volodymyr between his personal safety and straightforward economics. He needs to make a living.
"When you go underground, you have no idea what the family is up to. I worry a lot a lot. ".
After falling by two-thirds to 65,000 people the previous year, Pokrovsk's population is slowly increasing. The start of the war in 2022, according to Svitlana, a station control room employee, was "like an apocalypse - I had never seen so many people leave.".
Now, people fleeing Russian occupation and conflict travel there.
There is a strong sense of war in this town. Soldiers and civilians are distributed equally throughout the streets. Since Russia's aggression began nine years ago, this region has experienced war.
The local government's restoration of water and power, in spite of their warnings for people to stay away, is another draw.
Russian multiple rocket launcher systems (MRLS) can still reach Pokrovsk with ease. In the town, scars serve as a constant reminder of their indiscriminate threat.
The last line of defense for the town can be found outside Pokrovsk, closer to the Russian occupation. The faint sounds of artillery are closely monitored by soldiers from the territorial defense.
There appears to be sympathy in the trenches, but their obedient actions are allowing people to re-enter danger.
Vyacheslav explains that some people remain because it is their homeland while others save their children.
"If you have to pass away, it's better to pass away at home than abroad. ".
We later catch up with Serhiy, Viktoria, and Eva at their apartment. They are the picture of innocence as they play with their daughter.
Who knows when this place will be safe?" Serhiy wonders. "Perhaps one, two, or five years?
"Five years, or even one year, is too long to wait. ".
Despite the obvious dangers, they seem content with their choice to remain together as a family.
a move that isn't just made in defiance but also in acceptance that this war won't end anytime soon.
Hanna Chornous and Siobhan Leahy contributed more reporting.