Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or places in Tales of Symphonia. I don't own you either.
Author's Drivel: I am so, so, so, so, so very sorry for taking forever on this update! My inspiration bubble kind of popped, and I was left high and dry for a long time. Besides all that, school has decided that kicking asses is a fun and educational thing to do. So please forgive. Thank you for reviewing, my reviewers! Every review is a joy! That sounded really cliché! But that's all right!
Anyway, this is the next installment! Enjoy!
The Act of Shattering Peace:
Chapter Six:
An Act of Good Will
"Explain it to me again."
"I just did."
"Again. I trust you understand the meaning of the word?"
"Yeah, yeah," Yuan said hastily at the first sign of anger in Kratos' voice. The two of them were currently in Yuan's home, accompanied by Martel. Yuan had been forced into his bed by a combination of Kratos' orders, Martel's pleads, and finally Kratos' threats of his slow and painful death if he did not rest that instant. Then Kratos had proceeded to force Yuan to tell him exactly what had happened that day, leaving out no details and had spent the entire span of Yuan's story pacing up and down the room, one hand running through his red hair agitatedly and one on the hilt of his sword. Martel had just sat, worried, by Yuan's side. Yuan couldn't help but feel guilty; he felt as though he should say something to her, apologize for the state he was in, or for making her look so sad. Neither were things he intended, yet, he couldn't find the words for anything other than his story for Kratos.
"Nothing was out of the ordinary," Yuan said with a sigh. "I've already told you. I just ran into Javis' prop—"
"He hit you with the prop, Yuan," Kratos said distractedly.
"No, he didn't," Yuan said. "I really did run into it. I almost ran into him, then—"
"He hit you with the prop," Kratos finished for him again, and, ending in a dark mutter, "But the question is, why? He didn't even run into him…"
"Hey!" Yuan protested. "You gonna listen to me, or what?"
"My apologies. Continue," Kratos said quickly.
"Thanks. Anyway. I run into his prop. I wasn't looking. Anyway, that's not the point. Went off to get another prop and tripped over Kain's—"
"—Prop, because he placed it there," Kratos said.
"No. Because I wasn't looking."
"Yuan, you may sometimes be blind and deaf to the world, but you would think that the equivalence of a small tree lying in front of you would catch your attention."
"Yeah, you'd think. Sorry for being dumber than you imagined," Yuan said sulkily. Kratos paused in his pacing, looking over at Yuan, instead of the wall.
"That was not what I was intending to imply," he said gravely.
"Yeah?" Yuan said. "Then pray do tell."
Kratos sighed, ignoring Yuan's mimicking. "I am simply saying that there seems to be a more suspicious motive to these actions than mere happenstance. For Kharlan's sake, look at yourself, Yuan. You are more battered than many who come from a battlefield, let alone a friendly gathering!"
Yuan had nothing to say to this, so he looked away instead, glaring at his sheets.
"I say this only out of concern for you, friend," Kratos said seriously. "I do not think that this is an innocent matter."
"That's only 'cause you're so paranoid," Yuan mumbled.
To his surprise, Kratos laughed.
"That may be true. However—" His face returned to its solemn state. "—I might suggest you adopt some practices of caution now and again."
"I do."
"I disagree," Kratos said bluntly, shaking his head. "There is no caution, nor do you act as an experienced adult—"
"That's stupid," Yuan said, glaring at Kratos. "I'm not naïve!"
Kratos smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, regarding Yuan with an almost amused look. "Oh? How so?"
"You know…! I'm not…stupid!"
"Stupid, no, but too willing to believe in the good of others—"
"And why is that a bad thing!" Yuan found himself shouting. "Just because you can't trust anybody, doesn't mean the rest of us can't place value in other people!"
"If you keep living your life believing the world is a happy place, I cannot guarantee your safety nor prosperity—"
"Damn those! I don't care! And who gave you the permission to talk to me like I'm your damn son!"
"I am not speaking to you as a father, only as a friend—"
"Like hell you are!" Yuan shouted, his hands balling into fists. "I'm not your property or anything else that you can just boss around!"
"Believe me," Kratos said stonily, no trace of amusement on his face now. "I take no pride nor pleasure in 'bossingyou around' as you call it. I wouldn't be inclined to if you would occasionally open your eyes so you don't run into anything. But that, my friend, is only what the mature do."
"Yeah, talk it up!" Yuan said, glaring at Kratos. "So you're three and three-quarters of a year older than me. Now that makes you mature and me a child?"
"If you would listen," Kratos said coolly. "Maybe you would hear properly what others are saying to you. Maturity had nothing to do with age; granted, I've met twelve-year-olds with more maturity than you."
"Shut up, Kratos," Yuan growled through clenched teeth his fists trembling slightly. "Just shut the hell up. I've had enough of this shit."
Kratos matched Yuan's glare for a moment, then bowed his head and made for the door.
"Thank you for your hospitality," he said curtly. "The weather is fair; I will be taking my leave."
"Fine," Yuan said, glaring at one of the bare walls of his bedroom. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out, you conceited little bastard.
Kratos left the room. Yuan heard another door open and close, and he was gone.
He sighed, his face sinking into his hands. Great. He had screwed something up again, hadn't he?
"I'm so sorry, Martel," he said, his apology muffled slightly in his palms. He heard her laugh softly, her hand rubbing his back soothingly.
"It's all right," she said. "You two had to sort things out." She paused for a moment. "I don't think I've ever seen Mister Kratos in that kind of a mood before."
"Are you kidding?" Yuan said into his hands. "That bastard's always like that…he just doesn't show it too often."
"He must be really worried about you," Martel said.
"Hell no! He just likes to boss me around! I keep telling him, I'm not his dumb son, but he—"
Martel giggled. "No, silly," she said. "I think he's just really worried about you. And I am too, for that matter." Her hand paused on his back. "Yuan," she said softly. "I'm really worried too."
Yuan pried his face from his hands, and looked at her. Her face was serious, but her eyes were…sad. Sad sapphires staring back at him.
"I'm fine, Martel," Yuan said, smiling. "Really. I promise."
"But I don't want to see you like this again!" she persisted. "I'm beginning to wonder if Mister Kratos was right. If those people were purposely hitting you."
"That's just…" Yuan started, but he couldn't find words to back it. How could he defend something that he didn't even believe? Kratos might be able to pull off the Devil's Advocate to a tee in some circumstances, but Yuan was just hopeless at it. Again, he really had no tact when it came to those kinds of things. It just wasn't fair. Yuan sighed.
"I know," he said gloomily. "He's probably right. In fact, he is right. All the time. I'm just too dumb to see it. Kharlan, I am naïve, aren't I?"
Martel laughed.
"No," she said. "Not compared to most. I mean, we all are in some ways. There are some things that we've never experienced, so we are naïve when it comes to that. I'm just saying that Mister Kratos has been a mercenary, so he probably sees the bad side of strangers before anything else. But I'm like you, Yuan; I want to believe that there's good in everybody…even though that can be very hard to believe sometimes."
She trailed off, but managed a smile.
"Anyway," she said. "I just want you to be safe. That's all."
Yuan returned her smile. "You're too nice to me, Martel," he said.
"That's just silly," said she, shaking her head and rising beside Yuan's bed. "I can't be nice enough to you." She took his hand and squeezed it.
"Where are you going?" Yuan asked.
"Home. I have to check on Mithos, it's been awhile…" she said, looking somewhat anxious. "But I'll be back really soon, I promise."
"Oh, no, no," Yuan said, waving away her last comment with his hand and a smile. "Take your time. You guys are siblings, you need to see each other…"
Martel smiled and nodded. "Yes," she said. She let go of his hand, and turned for the door. "I'll be back, but please, try and rest some?"
"I will," Yuan reassured her with a nod. "Tell Mithos I say 'hi', will you?"
"Of course!" Martel said cheerfully, looking positively delighted at the thought. With a final smile, she disappeared around the door. It shut with a soft click.
Yuan was alone.
He sighed, dropping his head into his hands again. Life just wasn't being fair at all. Why did everyone hate him? Granted, he hadn't been the most popular guy in the village, but nobody had ganged up on him before! He knew Kratos was right; it wasn't by accident that he came to find himself more bruised than a mistreated pear, but it wasn't as if he was going to go running to the stupid bastard and apologize for everything he said. It was his fault too after all. It takes two to argue. And after all that lecturing from him about having no tact…
Oh, go stuff yourself, Kratos, Yuan thought bitterly lying down and glaring at the wall of his bedroom. He shut his eyes, and tried to think of pleasant things, but nothing really came. All he could think about was the enemy he had made himself into…even to his own best friend.
----
The morning a week later found Yuan sitting at his small table and staring absently at the wall. He had recovered somewhat, and didn't look half as bad as he had after the banner festival.
There was a small knock on the door, and Yuan looked up as Martel entered. His face brightened.
"Hello!" he said cheerfully. "How are you?"
"Very well!" Martel said, beaming at him. She was carrying a basket filled with something that Yuan couldn't see. "How are you feeling?"
"Much better, thanks," Yuan said, nodding.
"Good," Martel said, kissing him on the head as she passed. Walking into his kitchen she set down the basket.
"What's in there?" Yuan asked with a grin.
"Food!" Martel said cheerfully, coming back to the table and sitting down. "I was baking today and had extras so I thought you might like them."
"Wha…Martel, that's amazing!" Yuan said. "Thank you!"
She smiled. "No problem!"
It was hard for Yuan to contain his glee; Martel was one of the best chefs he knew, as well as famous throughout the village for her incredible cooking skills. Everyone knew about her cooking, even people who didn't live in the village.
I am hungry, and Miss Martel seems to possess a gift for cooking.
Yuan's face immediately darkened.
"Hey," he asked Martel, glaring at the opposite wall. "Seen Kratos around lately?"
"Um…no, actually," Martel said, looking uncomfortable. She looked down at her hands. "He came to the village the day after you guys…I mean…"
"Why?" Yuan asked, his eyes narrowing.
"To check on you," Martel said, looking up at Yuan.
"Well I didn't see him."
"He asked me how you were doing," Martel said. "He seemed concerned."
"Hmph," Yuan said, crossing his arms, and glaring at the table.
"I think he's worried," Martel said quietly.
"Nah," Yuan said simply. He fell silent, not knowing what else to say.
"Anyway," Martel said after a moment. "I have to go…I promised Mithos I would take him out for a picnic today…it's so nice outside. Do you want to come with us?"
"Hn?" Yuan said, looking up at Martel. She had risen from her seat. "Oh! Sorry, Martel, I'd love to, but I actually have to do something today…"
"What?" Martel said, puzzled. "It's…not anything dangerous, is it?"
"No, no," Yuan said, smiling. "Just a…an errand of sorts. I'll tell you about it later, all right?"
Martel nodded, and Yuan stood, and walked her the short length to his door.
"I'll see you later, then?" he asked her hopefully.
"Yes!" Martel said, and nodded.
Yuan leaned down and kissed her briefly. He smiled as a blush rose to her face.
"H-Have a nice time!" he said, his own cheeks tinged pink as well.
"You too," Martel said, smiling broadly.
Yuan opened the door for her, and she departed.
Closing the door with a sigh, Yuan turned to get ready for his so-called "errand." Grumbling, he retrieved his weapon from his bedroom, slinging it across his back with a leather strap, and then approached the basket of food that Martel had left him. Its scent was heavenly, and he selected a few muffins, soft rolls, and meat-filled turnovers from the basket, and wrapped them all in a cloth. Taking a couple of apples from his own food stash, he packed his supplies in his traveling bag, and slung it over his shoulder. Bearing both his bag and weapon, he started towards the door. This had better be worth it, he found himself thinking as he exited his house and stepped out into the beautiful weather. It wasn't every day that he was invited on a picnic by Martel.
----
It didn't take very long to find him. Even though he didn't have a specific destination, Yuan could easily guess where Kratos would be: far away from the village, and most likely by his failed home.
Indeed, he was there, sitting by the edge of the river that was no more than a few yards away from a mass of burnt wood. One hand rested on the hilt of his sword, and he was staring across the river absently, deep in thought.
Yuan didn't even try to mask his footsteps; Kratos probably already knew that he was there anyway. He merely walked over to the river and stood there, staring off in the same direction as Kratos. Kratos sighed.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"No," Yuan responded, not taking his eyes off the distant spot across the river.
They fell silent.
"Have you come for a reason?"
"No."
Silence again. Yuan heard Kratos grumble.
"I see," Kratos said, and Yuan heard him stand. "My apologies for interfering with your walk."
Kratos turned, with the intention of walking away. He hadn't taken two steps, however, when Yuan moved. Yuan wasn't quite sure what he had intended to do, but his leg swung out and collided with the back of Kratos' knee in a swift kick. Kratos stumbled and swung around, his eyes wide with confusion and a little bit of anger.
"What was—"
Instead of trying to explain himself, Yuan reached into his bag with one hand and held out an apple to Kratos. Kratos eyed the fruit suspiciously.
"You going to make me stand here all day?" Yuan asked coldly. Kratos' eyes narrowed.
"What is this?"
"An apple."
"What…"
"An act of good will, you moron."
Kratos stared at him for a few seconds, then hesitantly reached out with a hand. Just as his fingers brushed the fruit, however, Yuan threw it at him. It bounced off Kratos' chest and fell to the ground.
"Oh," Yuan said, smiling. "Sorry."
Kratos looked down at the apple, then stonily up at Yuan.
"Are you sure you didn't come for a reason?" Kratos said. "Perhaps to amuse yourself?" He bent down to retrieve the apple.
Yuan's leg swung out again, but this time, Kratos was ready for him. He smiled pleasantly up at the blue-haired half-elf, the apple in one hand, Yuan's heel in the other.
"Cheers," he said, and stood up, lifting Yuan's foot up to shoulder-height.
Yuan fell hard on the ground with a curse. He struggled to stand up, glaring bloody murder at Kratos.
"You—"
Kratos, however, seemed very unconcerned with the whole matter. Rubbing off the apple with a sleeve, he bit into its flesh.
"Very nice," he said.
"Oh, I'm so glad," Yuan said sarcastically, a grin coming to his face. "You can have the other one, too then. Me, I'm going to have what Martel baked today."
It was as effective as he would have hoped. Kratos' chewing slowed and he turned his attention from the apple to Yuan.
"Yeah," Yuan said, nodding. "She did a lot of cooking and gave me a lot of the extras. So enjoy that apple. If you don't mind, I'll be eating lunch." Yuan sat where he stood, taking the sack from his shoulder and putting it to the side. He removed the weapon from his back and laid it across his lap. He then proceeded to open the sack slowly, and make a big deal of selecting which baked good he wanted to devour first. He heard Kratos' footsteps approaching.
"Give me some."
It was not a request, it was an order, spoken in the same tone of voice Kratos used with anybody who was giving him trouble. Yuan was quite familiar with this tone of voice, so unlike others, he was not immediately swayed by its intimidation.
"Yeah. Right."
Yuan heard a blade drawn, and the next moment he felt something cool and metallic against his throat. "I do not suffer fools well."
"What a pity. Must be a bitch to live with yourself every day, then."
Yuan couldn't help but grin as he said this. Kratos tapped the blade against Yuan's throat.
"I'm waiting," Kratos said.
"I'll make you a deal," Yuan said. "I'll give you this whole bag of baked goods," he said, nodding over to his bag. He looked up at Kratos with a grin. "But you have to fight me for it."
Kratos stared down at him, then gave a bark of laughter.
"Well," he said, "This is a bold challenge. At least I won't be hungry for long." He removed his sword from Yuan's neck and sheathed it, however, accepting his deal. Yuan scrambled to his feet, clutching his weapon in one hand.
"Are you sure you feel like being defeated today?" Kratos asked, taking several paces away from Yuan and turning to face him with a smirk.
"Pretty cocky for a man who hasn't won yet," Yuan said, returning the sarcastic grin.
"If you simply hand over the goods, there will be no need to embarrass yourself. Perhaps I'll let you have one…as an act of good will, we'll say."
Yuan laughed. "What in Kharlan is making you think that I'm going to lose?" he said. Kratos didn't know half of what would be fueling him in this fight. Partly his pride. Partly the shame of losing. Partly the shame of losing to someone like Kratos. Partly the urge to beat Kratos into the ground for being a stuck-up, no-good, pretentious asshole of a pretty-boy. And partly for Martel, the greatest force on his side. There would be no way he would lose a fight over something that Martel gave him. That just wasn't an option.
Kratos sighed exasperatedly. "Well," he said. "If there is no stopping you, I don't know what else I can do." He shrugged, and drew his sword. Sudden fear struck Yuan as he heard the blade slide out of its sheath. He wondered if that was one of Kratos' gifts, to strike fear in the enemy's heart by doing something as simple as drawing his sword.
"On your mark," Kratos said, with an almost patient air. Yuan took a deep breath, and nodded.
"Yeah. Okay. Now."
Kratos was on him so fast he didn't know what had hit him. Panicked, he had only enough time to hold his weapon in front of him before Kratos' blade connected with it. Yuan swung it up first on impulse and then down, trying to anticipate Kratos' moves before he made them. After a couple of heart-stopping moments, Yuan felt the handle fly from his fingers and the flat of a blade tap his cheek tauntingly.
"You're dead. I won," Kratos said sweetly.
Yuan fell to his knees as Kratos turned, sheathed his sword again and approached Yuan's bag. How…had he done that? One moment Kratos was several yards away, and the next, he was knocking the weapon out of Yuan's hands. And now he was eating Yuan's food. The food that Martel gave him.
"For your knowledge," Kratos said seriously, kneeling by the bag and trying to decide what to take first. "You handled that blade well for someone who—argh!"
For Yuan had scrambled to his feet and launched himself at Kratos, tackling him to the ground.
"It's not over yet!" he shouted, his fists swinging.
"That will teach me to give you compliments!" Kratos growled, deflecting Yuan's attacks with frustrating ease. "Get up off me. I intend to enjoy my spoils."
"They aren't yours yet!"
For a moment, the world seemed to stop and turn upside-down. Then Yuan landed hard on his back, the wind being knocked out of him. Kratos sat up, rubbing a kink out of his neck.
"Children," he sighed, shaking his head in mock disbelief.
Yuan dragged himself to his feet, watching again as Kratos made his way over to the bag.
"Hey!" he shouted, and was at his side in a flash, pulling on the other side of the bag. "No spoils until you beat me, cheater!"
"I beat you in a duel, fair and square," Kratos argued, not letting go of the bag.
"I didn't say you had to beat me in a duel, dumb-ass!" Yuan said, twisting the bag in Kratos' hands. He saw his grip falter slightly. "I…said…you…had…to…fight me for it!"
With a final twist, he wrenched the bag out of Kratos' grasp, and kicked out with a leg. It connected with flesh, and he saw Kratos stagger back, stumbling across the bank of the river. His foot connected with a rock and—
Splash.
Yuan stood motionless and wide-eyed for a moment, still holding the bag of goodies with a limp hand. Kratos came sputtering to the surface, completely soaked in the cold, spring water, cursing just loud enough for Yuan to hear. He couldn't take it anymore. He doubled over, laughing so hard he thought his sides would split, tears forming in his eyes.
"Kharlan curse you!" Kratos protested ineffectually making Yuan laugh harder. "This water is extremely cold!"
"K-Kratos…y-y-you…" Yuan gave up into helpless laughter.
Grumbling, Kratos waded out of the river, shaking his head to rid his maroon hair of excess water. He drew his blade and shook it.
"If this rusts you'll be the worse off," he muttered.
"C'mon, then," Yuan said, wiping away tears with the back of his hand. "You'll freeze again and it'll be my fault." With difficulty, Yuan shouldered his bag, picked up his weapon and led the way through the woods, back to the village.
----
"Yuan! You made it back on…what happened to you, Mister Kratos?"
Kratos smiled at the gate keeper, water dripping off his soaked clothes and hair.
"Nothing a beating won't explain," he said pleasantly.
Yuan grinned. "You want more, Kratos? I thought you'd had had enough for today."
Kratos glanced at Yuan, raising an eyebrow as they entered the village. He sighed, and shook his head.
"You will never change."
"Hey, Yu…hey, you two!"
Yuan looked up to see two blonde half-elves standing in the road, the taller one waving.
"Martel! Mithos!" Yuan called, waving back. He hurried to meet up with them, Kratos plodding slowly behind.
"How was your picnic?" Yuan asked, grinning and looking between the two. Mithos looked positively disgusted with Yuan's presence, but Martel smiled at him.
"It was great!" she said. Glancing beyond Yuan at Kratos and back again, she asked, "And I trust your 'errand' was a success?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah," Yuan said sheepishly. "Er, thanks a lot for the food. It, er…helped a lot. You're the best, Martel."
Martel beamed.
"I'm just glad I could help. In fact, if you'd like, you two could come over for dinner tonight if you want!" she said, speaking louder so the sodden Kratos could hear. He smiled at her, and bowed.
"It is greatly appreciated," he said. "But first I must impose on the fool who got me in such a state, so I can refrain from soaking your home."
"Huh? Oh, yeah, you are all wet, aren't you," Yuan said. "All right. Martel, we'll see you in a few. Bye, guys!"
He and Kratos turned and set off towards Yuan's house.
"You still do owe me goods," Kratos muttered.
"Yeah, yeah, keep talkin', wet-boy."
"You had better learn to wield that weapon better if you insist on keeping such an arrogant tone."
Yuan grinned at Kratos.
"Yeah," he said. "I suppose I'll have to."
And just maybe, if he played his cards right and employed the help of a few baked treats he could convince Kratos to stay and teach him.
----
A/N: And that's the end of that! Sorry, it may sound kinda cheesy, but that's how it came to be. Note that this chapter was originally thought of as "The Baked Goods War" so be glad I'm not THAT cheesy. Hope you liked it.
MindTricks