There was a relief to be had each time he steps off Zaphian soil. And such, there is a deep sadness each time he does as well. A piece of him remains within the spiraling walls of the imperial capital; a piece Yuri knows he can't reclaim. It's why he always returns, even if it's only for a short time. Here he can be complete, just for a short while.
The relief is short. Yuri always feels a dull ache under the soil of his heart when he leaves before he is even half a continent away. There is a longing for home when he is away from it. Yuri never denies it, but he never admits it either. No one asks, and he never tells.
The most annoying part of this truth is the fact it is not the Lower Quarter that holds this piece of him. If it were that simple, Yuri would be more willing to speak. But it's complicated, to the point Yuri almost hates it. He knows some things must be complicated, but this… this should be simple. It isn't. Yuri doesn't hate it so to speak, but he is annoyed by it.
A piece of him stays behind, locked behind spiraling walls, tucked safely away beyond castle ramparts and rots in the oblivious hands it felt into. Yuri wants it back. But he trusts no one else with it. It is the part of him he wishes to remain unstained, clean, and it should only be left with someone unstained and clean.
He still misses it.
The worst part? He honestly misses the one holding it, more than he does his own missing piece.
Oh it's not a secret. Not really. Yuri is open enough about it. The person who knows him the best, who gets under his skin easily, who sees past the fronts before they're even formed. The one he says he was together since practically forever and does so nonchalantly like it's no big deal, because to him it isn't. It is the norm to him.
What is a secret are the looks Yuri gives him behind the backs of everyone. The ways he knows they hold each other higher above the rest. The secret is the stirrings he feels when he walks away from him.
It's a stupid secret. It's not one Yuri keeps happily. More than a thousand times he means to spill it, but it chokes him. Shoves other words out of his mouth. It buries itself further and further into his being until he's so sure it's a part of him, just like the piece of his heart and ideals he leaves with Flynn is.
Yuri is a criminal. He could be pardoned a thousand times but the fact remains. He breaks laws he believes should not exist and he has slain men who might have been redeemed one day, although he doubts it. Yuri is bloodstained, dirty and black. What of him that isn't, that piece of him that he entrusts to Flynn, is his only redeeming factor.
But the fact remains. So when everything is said and done, he only has silence. He won't spill the secret, because it fills that avoid when he steps away from Zaphias and leaves behind that little bit of good. Because if there is a time Yuri loses all that makes him decent, he needs Flynn to slay him with it.
Relief is short and filled with some passing regret that eventually rolls off his shoulders like the rain. It lingers a bit sure, but when it dries he is perfectly fine. It's when he goes back he finds it both better and worse, because he never stays away from Flynn. It doesn't help the window remains open because Flynn waits for him.
Flynn has no idea.
Yuri likes it best that way.
He dirtied his hands for a few reasons. To protect those who cannot protect themselves, to permanently be rid of those who cannot think beyond their own selfish desires. But also, for this person of goodness he entrusts so much to.
Flynn is hardly perfect. Yuri knows him best after all; knows his flaws and glaring mistakes. But they're flaws that can be adapted to, forgiven and fixed. Yuri adapts to Flynn's flaws, forgives them and nurtures them to grow beyond what they are to add value to the overall person Flynn is. If there is one thing Yuri can be glad of from his friendship with Flynn, is that he could take all of the falls for him and boost him higher.
But even with all the flaws and the shit Yuri had to fix of him, he still sees his likeness to the grimy and dirty stained glass windows of the Lower Quarter churches. Wash away the grim and dirt and staring in brilliant colors is the portrait of an angel, blue eyes and blond hair, radiating such goodness regardless of the mistreatment.
It was stupidly sappy and cliche. But Flynn was that angel, that window. Easily erased mistakes and still beautiful underneath.
Shadows like Yuri, while required in the world, could not go near such windows. But he could promote it, so Yuri does what he can to do that. Foolishly, Yuri darkened his shadow, and now he knows he'll never be more than the window's shadow.
He wants to be so much more than that.
But better the shadow than the dirt.