A/N: I wrote this a little while back after a discussion about First Strike and the holes in the Vesperia canon. This doesn't fill any of those holes, but it does touch on Yuri having conflicting feelings about joining the Knights.

Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

There was a particular little stone bridge in the Lower Quarter that crossed over the canal that watered the city. It had been constructed of big, round stones the same oranges and grays as the river rocks that littered the banks of the stream. The mortar holding them together was yellowed and crumbling. Like many things in the Lower Quarter, it was in serious need of maintenance. Until the repairs became a necessity, however, or the money to pay for them fell from the sky, upkeep on the bridge wasn't anyone's priority. Traffic across it was light. There were other routes through the city.

The bridge didn't actually span much of a distance. Flynn had seen Yuri leap across the gully once—barely, and after a running start. Flynn walked across, listening to his footsteps in the quiet night. For some reason, it put him in mind of an old story his mother used to tell him about billy goats and a troll that lived under a bridge.

Trip, trap, trip, trap.

Who's that tripping over my bridge?

He wondered if Yuri was still angry.

On the far side of the bridge, there wasn't quite a trail down to the canal. That is, there was a place where it was possible to get through the overgrown bushes and down the steep hill by using a gnarled, old tree as a handhold. Flynn went carefully, peering into the deceptive shadows thrown by the light of the barrier. There were other places Yuri might have retreated to, but getting to this one was just enough of a pain to be worth a look.

Nearing the bottom of the hill, a scattering of pebbles and dead leaves came loose underneath his foot, almost sending him sliding right down into the water. The branch he'd been gripping bent with an alarming crack, but it held long enough for him to regain his footing. He sighed heavily, knowing that he ought to be annoyed with Yuri over his choice of hiding places but too tired to manage it. He'd spent all his anger earlier.

At least he'd guessed right about where Yuri had disappeared to. Flynn could just make out his boots in the hollow beneath the bridge. Carefully, he made his way the last few steps to the blessedly solid and flat stone outcrop that served as the foundation for that side of the bridge. He ducked into the shadows of a little pocket of Zaphias lost to the city at large.

"I thought I might find you here," he said.

Yuri didn't even glance at him. Beneath the bridge, the only source of light was the barrier's reflection off the water. It was pale and constantly shifting, and it made it difficult to tell how bad Yuri's bruises and cuts were. Flynn moved closer, bending over him because there wasn't room enough to stand up straight. This place had seemed bigger back when they were kids.

"Are you all right?"

"Why do you always ask me that?"

"Why do you always bait me into fights?"

"I didn't bait you," he snapped, finally turning to look at Flynn. His eyes were black in the wan light. "You were being a jackass."

Flynn sighed and sat down. "We've already gotten into one fight today. If you can't let it go, can you at least wait until tomorrow?" When Yuri didn't answer immediately, Flynn pulled a roll of linen out of his pocked and tossed it at him. "I brought bandages."

"You're still a jackass," Yuri muttered as he scooted himself down to the water's edge.

"Takes one to know one."

"Ouch. With a tongue that sharp, what do you even need a sword for?"

"Shut up."

He followed Yuri down to the edge of the rock, settling himself like a reflection, legs crossed, their knees almost touching. One of Yuri's sleeves was torn nearly all the way off, and he watched as Yuri yanked it free and dipped it into the cold water. He washed his face perfunctorily, getting rid of little more than the worst streaks of dirt. There was still blood crusted at the corner of his mouth, and Flynn snatched away the rag and took Yuri by the chin to get him cleaned up a little better.

Yuri flinched in his grip, but didn't pull away. "Ow! That stings."

"Don't be such a wuss." Yuri's lip was swollen and split. His cheek was starting to bruise. Flynn pushed his bangs out of the way to swab his forehead and check for any other injuries. He wished again that Yuri had chosen someplace else, someplace with a bit more light.

"Let me see your hands."

Yuri's knuckles and palms were a bloody mess of scrapes. Flynn had to rinse off the rag a couple of times as he dabbed them clean. He was as careful as he could be, but Yuri still hissed and complained. The third time he tried to jerk his hand back, Flynn lost his temper.

"You don't whine like this when Hanks patches you up, and he isn't nearly as gentle!"

He regretted the words before they'd even left his mouth. It wasn't the sort of thing they generally acknowledged. It surprised him, then, when Yuri didn't simply ignore it.

"This is different," he mumbled.

Flynn nodded and let the subject drop.

Cloth rustled. The water rushed along. There was quiet between them as he began wrapping Yuri's hands. It would have been nice if they could have gotten some sort of salve to speed the healing process, but Flynn had been lucky enough to be able to get his hands on the bandages. They hadn't exactly had a lot of gald to spare, lately.

Yuri's hand hung limp in Flynn's as he wound the bandages around it. Though he was warm beneath Flynn's fingertips, the barrier's light made his skin look as cold and pale as stone. Just as Flynn was ready to cut the bandage and tie it off, Yuri spoke up.

"Wrap it around my wrist a couple times."

"Did you sprain it?" He glanced up, but Yuri's eyes were fixed on their hands.

"Maybe." He pulled his hand back perpendicular to his wrist. "It hurts to do that."

"Can you rotate it?"

He nodded, doing so within the cage of Flynn's hovering fingers. "It's not comfortable, but I can manage." Yuri let Flynn take his hand again and wind the bandage around his wrist.

"Too tight?"

"No. It's fine."

Words felt clunky, intrusive. Flynn finished up without speaking again, and Yuri picked up the wet rag silently. He rinsed it thoroughly, then it was his turn to wash Flynn's face, his fingers carefully tracing jaw and cheekbone and forehead in search of injury.

"Got you pretty good," he murmured, outlining the ache around Flynn's right eye.

He washed Flynn's hands and wrapped a long, shallow cut on his arm that Flynn didn't remember getting. One of Flynn's knees had been skinned in a fall, and Yuri washed that, as well, dabbing gently as Flynn clenched his teeth against the sting. Rather than try to bandage it, he surprised Flynn by pulling an apple gel out of his pocket.

"Here."

"Where did you get that?" His gaze jumped between the gel and Yuri's face.

"Hanks gave it to me."

Yuri's expression didn't betray a thing. If it were anyone else, they might have believed him. Flynn's eyes narrowed.

"If you're going to lie to me, you could at least try to come up with something convincing." As if Yuri would ever accept something as expensive as a gel from Hanks. "Where did you really get it?"

"A knight." He was bold as brass, but there was still something fishy.

"Does the knight know you got a gel from him?"

"He might have noticed by now that someone did."

"Yuri!"

"What? They're supposed to be looking out for us, right? What's it matter if I swiped a gel? It isn't like they have to pay for the things themselves!"

"If you had just asked, I'm sure—"

"He would have laughed in my face. They don't give a damn about anyone living in the Lower Quarter."

"You can't judge the entirety of the Imperial Knights based on a few bad eggs. We're going to be joining them in a few months. That is, if they'll even let you join."

Yuri slammed his fist down onto the stone, making both of them wince. "There has to be a better way."

"There isn't. You even agreed with me, remember? Who's going to listen to a couple of Lower Quarter boys shouting for equality? We have to earn honor before we'll be recognized. There's only one way for us to do that."

Yuri heaved a sigh. He didn't argue, but he didn't concede the point, either. Instead, he offered up the gel again.

"Take it. You've got work in the morning."

He let Yuri tip it onto his palm and stared at it for a moment. "Split it with me?"

After a brief hesitation, Yuri shrugged. "Sure."

Flynn popped it into his mouth. It filled the space between his teeth, and he bit down, letting the viscous fluid leak out. Yuri was already leaning in, and Flynn curled a hand around the back of his neck and drew him close. The kiss was messy. Between them, they lapped up the healing liquid and swallowed it down. As they pulled apart, Yuri licked a trail of it off Flynn's skin. Flynn wiped a smudge off Yuri's chin and sucked it from his fingers. His aches and pains had faded a bit, and he smiled tiredly as Yuri lay back onto the stone.

"Are you coming home?"

"You go. I'm going to stay here for a while."

He almost went ahead and left. It had been a long day, and he did have a job to do in the morning. Instead, he stretched out next to Yuri. Staring up at the rippling patterns of light reflected on the underside of the bridge, he let his thoughts wander toward the future.

Joining the Knights would be the best thing for both of them, Yuri in particular. It would give him some stability and force him to control his temper. In just a few more months, they would be old enough to join. Just a few more months and they could start making a real difference. As far as Flynn was concerned, that day couldn't come soon enough.