Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Author's Note: Got some of the inspiration for this from the movie Green Street Hooligans. An excellent, if underrated, movie.

Some of the events here are mentioned in Photographs of Freedom.

This is all waaaaay before Tales of Symphonia.

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"Before I met you, I thought brace was not being afraid. You've taught me that bravery is being terrified and doing it anyways."—Jason (Blood Noir)

-/-/-/-

Yuan awoke to a violent shaking of his shoulder and a familiar voice hissing his name in his ear. Yuan half-heartedly pushed away the hands and rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. Kratos was standing there, cheeks pink—most likely from the recent frost that had come over the world—and a wide smile on his face.

"Wuzz goin' on?" Yuan yawned, sitting up. Then the strangeness of the situation registered. Why was Kratos waking him up? Shouldn't it be the other way around? "What're you doing here?"

Kratos brushed his bangs out of his eyes, still excited. It had been a little frightening, coming to the slave quarters on his own, but the slaves hadn't proved to be scary after all. "It's Celsius Day tomorrow!"

Yuan blinks at him, still trying to wake up. "Celsius Day?"

"Yeah." A momentary puzzlement. "Don't half-elves celebrate it?"

"Of course we do, but…is it really Celsius Day already? In another week, it'll be the new year." It's hard to believe that Yuan has spent so long here.

"Yeah, already. Get out of bed, c'mon."

Yuan does, but with reluctance. He wasn't exactly warm underneath the thin blankets, but it was warmer in his cot than it was out here, where the dirt floor was frozen and the cold travelled through his bare feet up through the rest of his body.

"What're you so excited for? Where're we going?"

"To town. Come on!"

Yuan tries to finger-comb his hair back into some semblance of order, but Kratos tugged on one of his arms and he was stumbling after him. "Why're we going to town?"

"Y'know, sometimes I think you never run out of questions."

"You ain't much better." Yuan retorts.

"Aren't." Kratos corrects. "'Ain't' isn't a word."

"Aren't much better." Yuan repeated. "You never answered my question. Why're we goin' to town so early? I still had a good bit of sleep left."

"A half an hour, actually."

Yuan has yet to learn how to read a clock, though Kratos has started teaching him his numbers—"Because if you know how to read, you might as well know how to do math," he'd said. To be honest, Yuan finds the numbers are easier to work with than the words.

"And we're going so we can get the Celsius Day presents. And sometimes, the stores'll give out free treats."

"Really?" The stalls back home never gave away anything. Things that weren't sold during the day were taken home to families or to sell tomorrow. Nothing ever went to waste.

"Only sometimes though. But if we get there early, we might get lucky."

They spend the whole day in town, pointing out interesting-looking items in shop windows and watching the adults put up the lights on their rooftops and windowsills. It didn't snow here, not enough to cover the ground like it did back in Asgard. The ground was frosty and slippery and more than once, Yuan had to catch Kratos' arm before his feet went flying out from under him.

When they enter shops, the shopkeepers will give Yuan a dirty look and the half-elf is careful to keep quieter. He and Kratos could get in trouble just for being friends.

The old lady who ran the bakery smiled at Kratos when he came in. "How old are you now, Kratos?"

Kratos avoided her eyes, like he did with most adults. "…Almost eleven, ma'am."

"I think you're getting too old for free cakes, boy."

"A boy is never too old for free cakes." Kratos says, smiling a little uncertainly. Some of Yuan's smart tongue had clearly rubbed off on him.

But the old woman only laughed. "You sound like my son. Which one would you like today?"

Kratos had to stand on his toes to properly see inside the glass case. There were trays upon trays of sugary confections. Strawberry topped cheesecakes, chocolate covered pretzels, small cakes stuffed with cream; it was every child's dream. But there was one thing Kratos had been wanting to try for a little while now and he pointed to the frosting-coated pastry.

Kratos accepted the pastry wrapped in thin paper and napkins and smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you. Have a good Celsius Day!"

"You too, boy."

Yuan eyes the napkins in Kratos' hand warily. "What's that?"

"A cinnamon bun."

"Come again?"

Kratos glanced around the street—if anyone saw him sharing fresh food with a half-elven slave, heaven only knew what would happen—before gesturing Yuan to follow him behind one of the buildings. He unwrapped the pastry. "This is a cinnamon bun. I've been meaning to try it, but…I just never got around to it."

The truth was that every time Kratos had tried, the older kids from his school would appear and beat him up. Not normal, they said.

Kratos saw the question on Yuan's face, but knew he wouldn't ask. Yuan didn't like to ask for things. (It's a matter of pride and the way he was raised. They didn't need others' charity. They could take care of themselves) "Do you want to try some?"

Yuan smiled and broke off a small piece, popping it into his mouth and chewing carefully. The smile widens into a grin almost immediately as the sweetness bursts on his tongue. "That's incredible!"

Kratos has to agree and they eat the shared bun in comfortable silence for a few minutes more(When had their silences become comfortable rather than elephant-in-the room?) Kratos stiffens when he sees the bullies from his school striding down the street. Yuan notices the way Kratos seemed to suddenly shrink away.

"What's wrong?" Yuan follows his friend's gaze to the older boys. "Are they the ones that bullied you?"

"…Yeah. That's them."

Yuan pops the last piece in his mouth and brushes his hands against each other, ridding them of crumbs. "Stay here for a minute."'

Kratos stares after him, words not wanting to work again as Yuan strode towards them. Yuan stops a good ten or fifteen feet away from them and bends to pick up something from the dirt. The next thing he knows, Yuan is chucking them with surprising accuracy at the bullies, catching one in the arm and two others in their backs.

They whipped around to look at Yuan. If Kratos had had the guts to do what the half-elf just did, he would have been quailing right now. But Yuan didn't back up even a step, standing with his chin high and his fists clenched. Standing like that, Kratos thought, Yuan looked ready to take on the world.

The bullies shout something at him, but Yuan doesn't even flinch. That seemed to make them angry and there was a flurry of movement as they went for him. It's difficult for Kratos to make out anything in the tangle of arms and legs, but there's a flash of blue and suddenly, his legs are moving without conscious thought.

A fist snaps across his face and he punches weakly towards them. There's someone above him—he can't recognize the person—but they're kicking at him, laughing a smile with blood running from a split lip. The next instant, the laughing person isn't there because a blur of blue shoved them harshly away.

There's shouting, but it's the shouting of adults, something very distinct from the shouting of children and instantly, the bullies scatter. The only person left is Yuan, who offers a hand up. There's a cut just under his eye and bisecting his right eyebrow and there are already a few bruises blossoming on his face, but Kratos is sure that he doesn't look much better.

The adults berate them and they both duck their heads in mock-shame, but also to hide their smiles. Kratos' is more tentative because had he really just jumped into that fight? For Yuan? Was that what being friends was?

After the adults are gone and they're walking home, Yuan looks at him. "Why did you do that?"

"You needed my help." Kratos says simply. No other thought had crossed his mind at that moment other than the fact that his best (only) friend was getting beat up on his account. "And besides, why did you go and attack them like that for?"

"They bullied you. Someone needed to repay them, even if only a little bit. But still…you had to have been scared." For some reason, that was the point that Yuan seemed to want to focus on.

Before and during the fight, absolutely. But at that moment of decision, there had been a strange kind of clarity, one that he'd never felt before. The clarity and absolute assurance that this was the right thing to do.

"I was, a bit. But…you needed my help."

Yuan stops and simply stares at him. Kratos' face is probably prettier than his right now, having only a bruise on his cheek and part of his eye. From the way the bully had been kicking him, the bruises would be worse on his ribs. And Kratos had to have known that something like this would have happened when he jumped in like that, loyal idiot that he was. Yet he'd still done it.

Yuan chuckles slowly became outright laughter. It made Kratos look at him a little uncertainly because there was nothing funny about this. "We're a real mess, aren't we?"

Kratos smiles back, though he isn't sure why. "Yeah…yeah we are."