A/N: And here's a rare one presented from Yuri's headspace. There was an awful lot of pressure put on him throughout the game, one thing after another, and he just kept going the whole time, even though it must have taken its toll. Between reading a couple essays on Yuri that I disagreed with and discussing with my friend how Yuri deals with everything he goes through, I wanted to try and write something about what happens when he has a moment to just stop and be alone.
This is set in the Conviction timeline, directly after the end of the game.
Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.
Brave Vesperia had only returned to Zaphias to stock up on a few supplies. Yuri had told Karol and Judy that he needed to pick up something from his room, and then left them in the market with Repede. He'd gone straight to the tiny room he'd called home for years and tossed his sword away as soon as he stepped inside. He leaned back against the door, then sank down to sit on the floor and rest his head on his drawn-up knees. He drew a deep breath and let it out.
It was over. The Adephagos had been defeated. The world was safe, though technology had been set back a few hundred years. At least everyone would be alive to complain about the changes and find new ways to eke out a living. Maybe it wasn't really over, then. Terca Lumireis was a harsh world. Monsters still roamed outside the cities, but with no more blastia to power the barriers, it wouldn't be long before they began turning cities into buffets. People would have to band together now, if only to survive.
Yuri swung his arm out to the side, slamming his fist into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster. That hadn't been what he'd wanted for this world. That hadn't been the change he and Flynn had dreamed of!
He surged to his feet and snatched the pillow off his bed. Pressing it over his face, he used it to muffle a roar of frustration that had been building up inside him for far too long.
What had he done? He'd fought Alexei and Duke and Estelle, Entelexia and monsters. He'd been nearly killed by a knight loyal to Flynn. He'd aided in the Don's suicide. He'd seen men, women, and children—innocent citizens—fed to monsters or shipped out into the desert to die. He'd cut down Ragou in cold blood and watched as Cumore was buried alive, screaming. He'd destroyed an entire way of life.
It was too much.
He wasn't strong and disciplined, like Flynn. He wasn't calm and capable, like Judy, or willing to be a leader, like Karol. He didn't have Estelle's heart or Rita's intelligence or Raven's cunning. All he had were his beliefs and too much pride to back down when they were challenged.
For four long years, he'd sat in this room and wondered what path was open to him after he'd shut the door on his chance at knighthood. Four years of troublemaking, arrests, and watching from his window as Flynn rode to the rescue and became more and more the hero that Yuri used to think they'd both be.
Well, he'd finally found a path, stumbled onto it while chasing a blastia thief, and where had it gotten him? He was a vigilante now, and a murderer. Maybe Ioder and Estelle had pardoned him, but that didn't change what he'd done. All it meant was that justice was turning a blind eye to him, just like those other criminals. He shouldn't be walking around free. He was no different from them.
He ripped the pillow to shreds. He emptied his shelves, hurling their contents around the room before ripping the shelves off the wall. He upended his desk and kicked it until it cracked down the middle. He punched the walls, dumped his wardrobe onto the floor, and tore his bed sheets to ribbons. When he finished his rampage, he sank down onto the bare mattress of his bed and held his head in his shaking hands.
Where had he gone so wrong? He tried to pinpoint the moment he'd started down this path, the choice that had split his fate from Flynn's, but everything was all tangled together. He'd killed Lambert and seen Captain Niren die before his eyes. Niren had been one of only three Knights he'd ever really respected. When Yuri had cut down Garista, he had been too caught up in the fight and fueled by grief and anger to stop himself. He had never regretted it.
He had never regretted killing Ragou either, though the situation had been vastly different. What he really hated was that the empire had neglected to protect its citizens and he'd had to sacrifice a piece of himself to step in and do what needed to be done. It was a sacrifice he would make again, but it should never have come to that in the first place.
The only silver lining, if it could even be called that, was that Flynn would have to realize that Yuri's reputation would be detrimental to him in his new role as Commandant. Yuri wasn't stupid. He'd seen the way Flynn had been looking at him lately, he'd noticed the occasional softening of his tone and reluctance to leave Yuri's side. Some of the things he'd heard about Flynn from Estelle had been telling, as well. Maybe he might have missed it if he hadn't been trying to bury similar feelings of his own, but it wouldn't much matter anymore. It had been a long time since Yuri had been the sort of person Flynn ought to be connected with. Now, after everything he had done, their continued association could only undermine Flynn's influence. If Flynn was going to pull the world out of darkness, he was going to need as much support from those in power as he could get. He would have to cut Yuri out of his life for the good of the world. It was just one more thing Yuri hated having to accept.
There was a bark from outside, and a minute later Yuri heard the clunk of boots on the stairs, two people, light tread and heavy. Karol's voice, excited but unintelligible, reached his ears, growing louder as he and Judy approached.
Drawing in a deep breath, Yuri picked himself up and straightened his clothes, plucking out feathers that had lodged in his shirt and hair. There were people depending on him, and he had to smile and hold it together, had to show them that he was strong and confident and okay, because he had made his choices and it was no good hating the consequences now. He had to hold his head high and soldier through. He had to pretend that he didn't sometimes hate what he'd become, even though he knew his actions had been necessary to save lives. He was nothing without his convictions, but no one else needed to know that.
Picking up his sword, he opened the door just wide enough to slip out, and shut it quickly, before Karol or Judy noticed the wreckage of his room. He smiled and raised a hand in greeting.
"Hey, boss, Judy. Ready to go?"