Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or places from Tales of Symphonia. If I did, do you think I'd be writing fan-fiction?

Author's Stuff: I apologize for the lateness of this update, and I thank you all profusely for your reviews; you don't know how much it means to a fan-fiction author (unless you are one; then you appreciate the glee of reading a review) so thank you. And keep reviewing! More of this drabble at the bottom, probably. But for now, enjoy!

Act of Shattering Peace:

Chapter Five:

Prop Up the Weak

Now that the snowstorm was finally beginning to melt, Yuan was more anxious than ever to take up Kratos on his offer to teach him how to fight with his birthday present. However, it took another three weeks before Kratos would even consider it; he had flatly refused to budge from Yuan's house while it was still snowy outside.

"However glad I am to see you so eager to practice," Kratos had said lightly, sitting by the wood stove. "There is no possible way in Hell that you could drag me outside without the risk of losing a few of your limbs."

"Come on, Kratos!" Yuan had whined. "It's not even that snowy outside!"

"A foot of snow does pass the requirements for being 'snowy'."

"You hypocrite! What was with that 'Always be prepared' crap then! What are rules for if they're not going to be followed?"

"Rule number two," Kratos had said, contentedly closing his eyes before the heat of the stove. "Never anger your instructor. There."

"…Why do I even put up with you?"

It didn't take long, however, for the snow to finally melt. Its absence was filled with frequent violent gusts of wind and dark, ominous clouds. Regardless, it was time for the Heimdall residents to uphold their ancient tradition of the New Year; taking down the celebration banners.

It was a well-known custom in Heimdall to put up celebration banners for the celebration of the New Year. These banners were kept up until the last snow melted away, and then were taken down; the last of the snow symbolized the last remnants of the old year, and thus the old banners were taken down and burned. The New Year was then welcomed unhindered by any past grudges.

As a part of this tradition, all able male residents (and any female residents, if they so chose) were required to take down all the banners strung around the city. It was a job that took most of the day, but usually it was accompanied by light spirits and sometimes music and food, so the work went rather quickly. After all, the coming of the New Year was supposed to be a cheerful occasion.

On the designated day, Yuan woke up to a light gray sky. Upon further inspection of the day, Yuan found it to be rather mild, the warmest he had seen it in weeks.

"Hah, Kratos," he said, withdrawing his head from outside and closing the front door. "You have no excuse now."

"Indeed I do not," Kratos said, who was sitting at Yuan's small table, sharpening his sword. "However you have previous engagements this day."

"What? N-no, I don't…" Yuan said, desperately hoping that he hadn't forgotten any plans he had made with Martel.

Kratos smiled wryly at him.

"Oh?" he said. "Are you not a citizen of Heimdall?"

"Yeah, I am," Yuan said defiantly. "What are you getting at?"

Kratos sighed and rolled his eyes.

"It never ceases to amaze me," he said. "That even though I do not live in this village, I know more about its happenings than you do."

"Just spit it out already, Kratos."

Kratos cleared his throat. "Today is the day that the banners are removed," Kratos said in monotone as if he were reciting a previously memorized script. "And burned as a symbol of the coming New Year."

Yuan blinked.

"Huh?...Oh! Oh, yeah, I remember!...Dammit, it takes a whole day doesn't it? What time is it?"

"Nine," Kratos said mildly, glancing at Yuan's timepiece on the table. "I suggest you hurry."

"Yeah, yeah," Yuan said resignedly, putting on his coat. "You know, I'm not your responsibility or anything…"

"Yes. I thank Kharlan for that every day."

"Very funny."

"What did you mean by it, friend?"

Yuan laughed. "It's almost like you're acting the parent sometimes," he said.

"Are not friends allowed to look after each other?"

"Yeah," Yuan agreed, sitting down and pulling on his boots. "I guess friends do look after each other." He grinned at his boots. "Ah, well, anyway, one day you're going to be a father, Kratos, I can feel it."

"…I beg your pardon?"

"Yep," Yuan said loudly, standing up and stretching. "Kratos is gonna have a son one day…boy I envy that kid!"

He laughed and walked around his house, picking up his gloves and fastening his coat, still enjoying one of the rare moments that he could confuse and annoy Kratos at the same time. Childish, yes. But it was really so much fun.

"Yeah, sure. I can just see it: Kratos as a dad and bossing his son around so much, that the kid can't stand it."

"…Yuan…?"

"Rule number five hundred and eighty-four, son: never by any means inhale more air through your left nostril than through your right nostril."

"What are you—!"

"Just promise me you'll name him 'Yuan'. That way it'll be that much easier to boss him around."

"Yuan, you—"

But Yuan just laughed once more, and without bothering to look back at the thoroughly confused and agitated Kratos, he left, shutting the door on his best friend.

----

By the time Yuan arrived at the square, there was already a great crowd gathered there. Most were males, but a few girls dotted the crowd. Regardless, everyone was dressed warmly in hopes of staving off the cruel wind that occasionally tore through the mild weather.

"Listen up, now!" the guard in front of the crowd was saying. "You know the drill. Take the banners down from around the village and bring them here. Separate the actual fabric from the prop and put them in the designated piles. It's pretty simple. All right, are you ready?" There was a murmur of assent through the crowd and a lone, enthusiastic "YEAH!" from the back. A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd. "All right then!" the guard said. "Let's get this done!"

Yuan sighed, stretched and turned to find a banner to take down. It didn't take any time at all, judging that there were at least fifty banners in the small town. Whistling tunelessly, he approached the tall wooden prop that served as the flagpole for the banner. Untying the ropes that kept it upright, Yuan was just about to ease it onto his shoulder when someone spoke.

"Do you need any help?"

"Martel!" Yuan exclaimed happily, turning to see the blonde standing before him. "How are you?"

She smiled.

"Very well!" she said. "And how about yourself?"

Yuan smiled too.

"Great!" Now that you're here. "Are you helping with the banners too?"

Martel nodded. "Well, I was just coming to see if you needed any help," she said. "The props look really heavy…"

Yuan flashed her a grin. "Nah, I've got it. But you could probably help me take the banners off…I'm not so good at untying small knots…"

"Of course!" Martel said, clapping her hands together. "Anything I can do to be of help today!"

You're always a help…

Yuan forced a casual smile, realizing that his face was flushing. He hoped it just looked like the result of the occasional bitter wind.

"Thanks, Martel," he said. He bent again to pick up the prop when something occurred to him. "Oh, yeah. I almost forgot." He turned to Martel, bent down slightly, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. She blushed, and looked down at her hands, a small, shy smile tugging at her mouth. This took Yuan aback, as he had never seen that expression on her face before. Sure, she had looked really cute and innocent on occasion, but nothing like this. It was as if there was a different side of Martel being exposed. He found it rather beautiful.

"Well, now!" Yuan said loudly, hiding his further reddening face by turning and heaving the prop onto his shoulder. "Better get started!"

He turned in what was very much a daze, and headed back to the square. Martel liked him! Martel liked him! He still couldn't believe it, after how many weeks? He had to be the luckiest guy alive…Martel liked him!

"—uan…Yuan…Yuan, hey watch out!"

Yuan immediately stopped on reflex, just narrowly avoiding colliding with another young man carrying a prop.

"Woah, sorry, Javis!" Yuan said to the elf, snapping out of his daydream. "Sorry, didn't see you there."

Javis sighed and shook his head.

"Open your eyes for once, will ya?" he said, shrugging and smiling.

"Yeah," Yuan agreed, arriving at the growing pile of props and kneeling down to deposit his on it. "Sorry about that."

"Don't forget the banners," Javis said, his prop still shouldered.

"Oh, yeah!" Yuan said, looking wildly around for Martel. Of the entire process, Yuan detested untying the banners the most. He hated sitting there like a fool, taking hours to untie four little knots. That job was more suited to a girl's smaller fingers.

"I'm here!" Martel said, coming up behind him. Yuan sighed with relief.

"Thank Kharlan," he whispered. Martel giggled.

"Here," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "I'll untie it."

"Thanks, Martel," Yuan said gratefully, looking up at her. She smiled at him, and he returned her gesture.

Just as he was turning around to stand up, his head collided with something hard and solid.

"Holy mother of—!" Yuan started, and bit his lip hard before he could continue. Stars flashed in front of his eyes and his head spun as he recovered from hitting the edge of a prop.

"Yuan! Are you all right!"

"Oh, sorry, Yuan," Javis said. "I was just setting it down, and I guess you turned around…didn't see you there."

Yuan glared up at him behind stray strands of blue to see Javis smiling. All a joke. Yuan forced a laugh, his face softening.

"Yeah, yeah, my bad," he said, rubbing his forehead.

"Are you okay!" Martel asked again, looking at him anxiously. "You hit it really hard!"

"Yeah, I'm fine!" Yuan said, smiling. "Just a bit of a bump. Not a big deal."

"But it looked like it really hurt!"

Yuan laughed, and stood up.

"Nah," he insisted, ignoring the fresh headache he had gained. "Here, I'll be right back. I'm going to go get another one."

He turned and jogged away, rubbing his head with one hand. Damn. That was unfortunate. Ah, at least it was only a bump on the head…

"Woah!"

His foot caught fast on a piece of wood, and he tripped, landing flat on his face. Groaning, he got to his hands and knees and looked around.

"Aw, geez, Yuan, are you all right?" the elven boy asked, kneeling by the prop. "I was just about to pick this up…sorry."

"Yeah, Kain," Yuan said, dragging himself to his feet. "It was my fault. You know me…"

"Heh. Yeah."

Yuan shook his head, his hair flopping about. That was pretty stupid. How could he not have seen a prop? Maybe today just wasn't his day.

Figuring that there would probably be more props around where he lived, he set off towards the outskirts of town. He half hoped that Kratos would still be there so he could tease him a bit more; he was by no means finished.

"I'm like his son," Yuan muttered to himself with a grin. "That's just too weir—oof!"

His face smacked into wood and he fell backwards, landing hard on his back. He blinked, trying to clear his vision as he lay in the dirt. His head was throbbing with an unknown ferocity, and he was having difficulty thinking through the blinding white light that was clouding his mind.

"Sorry," he heard an apology mumbled somewhere above his head. "Didn't see you from around the corner…"

Yuan tried to make for a casual response, but found that his voice was caught in his throat. He heard the person leave, and sat up, massaging his face. Okay, this wasn't funny anymore.

"Jerk," Yuan muttered, getting to his feet. "Sorry to you t—"

He was cut off as yet another hard object collided with his face, followed by a second, which knocked the wind out of his chest. Yuan fell to his knees, gasping for breath, not even hearing the excuses passing him. Something felt strange; his face was unnaturally warm. Reaching up with a hand, he touched his nose. It was bleeding.

Great, he thought bitterly, wiping the blood off on his sleeve. Just perfect. A bloody nose. What is it, "Everyone-hit-Yuan-with-big-planks-of-wood" Day?

He snorted at this idea, but he paused, his eyes narrowing. Obviously it wasn't a national holiday, but it did seem a bit strange…why was he getting hurt all of a sudden? It just didn't seem right for everyone to suddenly gang up on him…but then again, nobody was really apologizing, or even looking sorry at all. It was just too suspicious.

But why was he being targeted in the first place?

Yuan found he didn't care, as he got up hesitantly before checking that nobody was around. It didn't matter why people where beating him up; the fact still remained that he was getting hurt, and that sucked. He'd have to be more careful from now on.

And he would also need to get another prop. Otherwise Martel might just freeze waiting for him.

Martel!

Yuan turned and dashed off, hoping against hope that there was a prop nearby. He could just see one when—

"Agh!"

----

"Yuan…what in Kharlan's name happened to you!"

Yuan did his best to smile at Martel cheerfully behind his black eye and bloody nose.

"Hey, Martel! Sorry for taking so long."

"Yuan, answer me!" Martel demanded. "What happened to you! You're covered in bruises! And…blood!"

"Hm?" he said unconcernedly. "Oh, I…I tripped."

"Yuan—"

"No, no, it's true!" he insisted, carefully kneeling down beside Martel and setting down the prop on the pile. "I did. Really. Anyway, I've been thinking…it's getting colder out here. Maybe it'd be better if you went back home?"

"Yuan, tell me what the matter is."

"It's not that I don't love…your company and your help, it's just, you know…I don't want you to get cold."

"You're avoiding the subject—"

"Please," he muttered, trying to make her understand without words. He stared intently at her for a while, willing her to understand his situation. He didn't want her to be there, to see him the way he was. And if she was around him, there was definitely a chance that she might get hurt as well. "Please, Martel. It's cold."

She blinked several times, then sighed softly.

"Only if you insist you're okay…"

"I am, I am! I promise, Martel, there's nothing the matter."

"All right," she said, getting to her feet, still staring at Yuan concernedly. "But please let me know if I can do anything…"

"I will," Yuan said, smiling up at her. Thank Kharlan. She got it. He reached out and took her hand, pressing it briefly to his lips. "Thank you."

Martel laughed softly, and at last turned and walked away.

Yuan breathed out a sigh of relief. At least she was out of potential harm's way. Indeed, she was no sooner out of sight, when Yuan felt a prop thrown against him. He stiffened, wincing against the pain from his aching back. Shaking his head, however, he didn't even bother to see who threw it, instead turning to undo the knots on his banner. A laugh of apology met his ears, which turned into a jeering cat-call. His hands shook on the knots.

"Hey, there's only one left!" someone shouted, and Yuan blinked. How long had it taken him to get two props? A cheer rose up from the crowd.

"Only one left!"

"All right!"

"Now we can go home!"

"Wait," said the initial voice. "The banner's caught on the building next to it…this is bad."

"Oh, yeah, don't wanna rip it, do we…"

"Will someone have to climb up there?"

"Hey, I've got an idea! Yuan will do it!"

A wave of noise traveled through the crowd, that sounded scarily of laughter. Yuan's hands clenched into fists as he turned.

"Yeah?" he asked cheerfully. He surveyed the smirking faces of the crowd of men. "Sure," he said finally. "I'll do it."

"That's a man, Yuan!" Javis said, coming up and slapping him forcefully on the back. Yuan's smile turned into a grimace.

"It's right here," Kain said, pointing to a prop down an alley. Yuan nodded, looking up at the banner and seeing that it was indeed tangled on a prong sticking up from the neighboring building's roof. "Can you get it?"

"Sure," Yuan said. "Not a problem."

"All right! Get up there, then!"

Yuan grasped the prop and shook it slightly. It seemed steady enough. Shouting a few words of encouragement to himself inwardly, he hoisted himself off the ground, using the side of the alley and the prop as supports. He didn't want to do this, every fiber of his being was screaming at him not to do this, but what choice did he have? The crowd below was set on humiliating him, and he'd be damned if they succeeded. Maybe if he did this, they'd stop hating him…

But it was just typical that they picked him. It was always him. Always Yuan. He glared at the banner up ahead of him. It was so close—

Yuan can't do this, Yuan can't do that. Yuan, you're so clumsy, Yuan, you'll never get a girlfriend. Yuan you're hopeless. Yuan, you're useless. Yuan, just give up already. Yuan, come do my dirty work. Oh, Yuan doesn't mind. Yuan will do anything. 'Cause Yuan's a misfit.

Yuan, you just don't belong.

There was a shout below, and Yuan felt one of his supports disappear. He turned in horror to see the prop falling away from him as the supporting ropes were cut. He scrambled for a moment in midair, trying to grab something, anything to stop him from falling, but to no avail. The ground rushed up to meet him, and he lost consciousness.

----

It was cold when he woke up. He blinked up at a darkening, cloudy sky. Turning his head, he realized that he was alone. The prop was gone, and so was everyone else. Where had they gone?

Home, he thought bitterly. They were all home while he was there festering in an alleyway. They really did hate him, didn't they?

He tried to sit up, but even the thought of moving hurt like hell. Damn it, he thought, If I can't get out of here, I'm going to freeze to death. With a tremendous effort, he lifted his arm, shifting his shoulders. Finally, with an added ounce of pain, he was lying face-first on the hard road. Perfect. On the mental count of three, he heaved himself up onto all fours, where he stayed, gasping with pain. All his muscles were screaming with indignation, and he felt the world spin a bit underneath his palms. After the spinning ceased, he grabbed hold of the nearby wall, and dragged himself to his feet.

It was easier than he imagined it would be. Now that he had gotten his muscles moving, they seemed happier, and less inclined to hurt so damn much. Shaking his head, Yuan braved a couple steps forward, which he achieved while holding onto the wall.

Good, he thought. I'll be able to get home.

Exiting the alleyway one step at a time, Yuan paused to observe the town square. It was quiet, almost nighttime, and there was nobody about. All the props had been cleared away already; it was as if that day never happened. As if it was just a normal day in which Yuan hadn't been beaten up by most of the village populous.

Yuan growled at this thought. Talk about unfair.

Leaning against the side of the building, he closed his eyes as a chilling breeze swept through. He really needed to get home; it was only going to get colder, and he wasn't dressed for anything but mild, maybe slightly chilly temperatures. But then again, it was all too tempting to just fall asleep here, and forget that anything ever happened.

"Yuan!"

Yuan opened his eyes lazily, focusing on the swiftly approaching figure.

"About time," he said hoarsely. "I was thinking you'd forgotten about me."

The world swayed again, and the wall shifted from his grip. He stumbled forward, and ran into someone.

"Sorry," he apologized as Kratos grabbed his arms to hold him up. "Rough day, you know…"

"What happened to you?" Kratos asked, surveying Yuan's beaten-up appearance.

"Ah, nothing, nothing," Yuan said lightly, still trying to regain his balance.

"Do not test my patience nor challenge my intelligence," Kratos said in a somewhat dangerous voice. "I am not so stupid to believe you received these injuries by accidental means. You need to return to your home. Miss Martel was kind enough to aide me in my search for you when you did not arrive several hours after the ceremonies were terminated. She was not far behind me, so she should be—"

"Martel?" Yuan asked, his eyes widening in horror. She couldn't see him all pathetic like this! "Kratos, you can't be seri—"

"Mister Kratos? Did you…oh, thank Kharlan, he's all right!"

Yuan looked up as Martel came running towards him.

"Yuan!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. "You're all right! Nobody could tell us where you were! We've been looking for…" she stopped as she caught sight of Yuan's face. He looked away. "Yuan," she said quietly. "What…in Kharlan's name…happened to you?"

He did his best to smile unconcernedly, but he was finding it very hard. He didn't know what he would have done if Kratos hadn't interrupted.

"Now is not the time for such questions," he said briskly. "Come. We must help him to his house."

"Yes," Martel said, nodding, eyes still fixed on Yuan's face. "We should."

"Come," Kratos said again, hoisting one of Yuan's arms over his shoulders. Martel followed suit with Yuan's other arm. "Once in a more comfortable location, Yuan, you will recount the entire affair to us, or have it painfully removed from you. I give you this time to choose your option."

Yuan tried to laugh, but somehow, he wasn't quite sure if Kratos was joking or not.

----

Mithos sat by the entrance of the bar, watching the progress of the two, as they helped an unsteady Yuan home. He chuckled, hearing the roars of laughter from the crowd in the bar as they recounted their successful attempts at impeding the oaf. His chuckle turned into an outright laugh, and he sat against the building, laughing at his success.

It was a long time until his laughing ceased.

A/N: Hello, again! Now some comments on the stuff you just read. Yes, I do realize that Heimdall does have a festival for every hour of the day (can you blame them for loving to celebrate?) but that's just how I picture the village. Hope you're enjoying it all…please review, leave your impressions on it, constructive criticism, questions, comments, anything is very much appreciated! Until next time, then…