#fundamentally he's a disillusioned teenager who wants any way to fix what he sees

[multifandomlandfill]

Watching the death note musical and man, I just want to give Light some tea and terrible unlicenced therapy.

[somefinelipstickonthatpig]

“The Wind Beneath His Wings,” A Tales of Vesperia fan fic

Flynn never really meant to tell Lady Estellise everything that he did. Hopefully, Yuri forgives him.

Set before the events of the game. Yuri/Flynn, Flynn & Estelle.

[Please leave a comment on AO3 or a review on fanfic dot net! ♥]

-

Flynn does not think of himself as secretive. He keeps his private life to himself, but just because he is not baring his heart to the world does not mean he is hiding it. Even still, he is surprised when Her Highness hooks into the little bit he lets slip.

They are on the balcony of her sitting room when he says it. His shift is technically over, but ever since meeting the young lady, he has found himself drawn to her. She is honest and true, and in that way she reminds him of a certain someone. So perhaps that is why he lets his guard down, as they are overlooking Zaphias, and he says:

“Yuri would hate this view.”

Yuri would be disgusted with it. Yuri would look out and only see the vast amount of wealth that the royal family hoards, would see it as symptomatic of a broken system. Yuri would be right, of course, but there is something more here. Yuri would overlook the way the rays of the sun hit the buildings just right at sunset, a celebration of nature’s beauty and mankind’s innovation. The way this view allows Lady Estellise to watch her people from afar.

Perhaps it is cruel to think that, given that Lady Estellise is not ever permitted to leave the castle. This is the only way she can watch them. She isn’t even given the opportunity to hold audience; that responsibility falls to Prince Ioder, but Flynn can’t help but think that the Princess would benefit from that far more.

It isn’t his place to speak such thoughts.

“Why?” Lady Estellise breaks him from his trance, and he blinks as he turns to face her. Her eyes are curious, inquisitive. She learned that from books, he thinks, but books can never answer her directly. She’s had to find the answer in further pages or in other books.

“Uh…” Flynn scratches his cheek and wonders how to explain Yuri’s point of view to someone he would probably hate. No, Yuri would only hate her position; if Yuri took the time to get to know Estellise, to know how kind and considerate and sincere, then he would probably be willing to lay his life on the line for her.

Knowing Yuri.

“He’s just a very pessimistic person, that’s all,” Flynn says, and hopes it’s enough to satisfy her.

It isn’t.

“So, who is he?” Lady Estellise demands, her gaze turning sharp and determined, her tone almost an accusation. Flynn nearly jumps out of his skin as he turns to look at the princess, realizing in that moment that he’s said too much, but he refuses to admit anything.

“Who is… who, my lady?” he asks, feigning ignorance. Clearly he does not feign it well enough, because Lady Estellise’s brows furrow. She looks betrayed, as if this lie truly hurts her, and guilt swoops in his gut.

“Yuri,” she replies. “You just said the name, Flynn. You can’t get out of this that easily.”

He lets out a sigh. Anyone else might have let it go, sensed that Flynn doesn’t wish to discuss it. But once Lady Estellise has her curiosity hooked, she doesn’t let go, ever. “Just… an old friend,” he hedges. Her eyes narrow at him. Oh, she can definitely tell he’s trying to slide out of this. “I don’t know how much he would be comfortable with me telling you. I grew up with him in the lower quarter.”

“Really?” There is something pleased in the Princess’s voice, her fingers curling around the railing on the balcony. Something almost mischievous. “You two grew up together? This pessimistic person of yours?”

Of mine? Flynn wonders, and immediately regrets it, because he feels the heat rise to his cheeks as soon as he does. “U-uh, my lady,” he begins, unsure of his footing. Yuri has certainly never been his. Though Flynn can’t help but think nothing would have changed if he had. “Yes. We… we did. We joined the Knights together, as well, but he has become disillusioned with the Empire.”

And that was putting it mildly. He sighs again. “We have always been very different, he and I. Never quite seen eye to eye. But… despite that, I think of him often.”

Not even Yuri knows just how often. Flynn has written letters and scrapped them more times than he can count. He’s up for promotion soon — it’s almost guaranteed that he will make Lieutenant within a few months — and at that point, he knows he won’t have time to write any letters at all.

Not that it matters much. Yuri almost never replies, unless it’s to scold Flynn (You don’t have to inform me of every sin you’ve committed or every time you’ve sold your soul to the Empire. We both know what you signed up for.) or to mock him (What, is the great Flynn Scifo, son of Finath, giving up so easily? You haven’t even changed anything yet).

Why does he keep writing him? Why does he keep trying? He doesn’t know.

The best letters he gets from Yuri are unprompted ones. Ones that tell him Yuri will be visiting, and at what time, and Flynn had better be there. Or else.

“In what ways?” Lady Estellise prods, and Flynn knows exactly what she’s getting at. He knows exactly what she’s asking for: she’s asking for all the details about Yuri that Flynn would be willing to give her.

And, rather without his consent, he gives everything to her.

He talks about how Yuri’s cynicism has always been in direct contrast with Flynn’s optimistic beliefs that the Empire must be changed from within. How it irritates Flynn and how he craves it at the same time. He and Yuri might have fundamental disagreements about what constitutes a moral action, which is most evident in how frequently Yuri is hauled to jail for obstructing tax collectors, but Flynn knows it is so easy to slip down the wrong path. He has seen plenty of his superiors do it before, believing their actions were righteous but were too willing to turn a blind eye to people in need. Yuri forces Flynn to see what he didn’t want to, and Flynn needs that, needs to see what’s broken so that he can find some way to fix it. Needs to stay grounded in the reality of why he became a Knight in the first place.

He talks about Yuri’s reckless tendency to jump in to help others. Yuri is sharp and intelligent, which probably feeds this urge of his, because if Yuri even gets a hint that someone is in need, he can’t keep his nose out of their business. Like he’s using his shrewdness for evil do-gooding, he says with a laugh, and he’s glad that Lady Estellise finds that equally hilarious. He tells her one anecdote about how, as teenagers, Yuri was prepared to tie Flynn to his bed when he wasn’t getting enough sleep.

They used to share everything from clothes to food to school supplies. After Flynn’s father died, they shared the room at the inn.

Flynn doesn’t tell Lady Estellise this part, but his mother struggled financially even with the stipend that the Empire gave her after her husband passed, and Flynn didn’t want to burden her. Sometimes he regrets moving out without asking her permission, but he remembers the look on her face as he gathered his things, saw the conflicted mess of emotions on her face, and knew he was bringing her some small relief. She wouldn’t have admitted it then, but after Flynn made it into the Knights, she wrote a letter to him, thanking him for his sacrifice.

Flynn’s never been sure about how he felt about that.

“You sound very close,” Lady Estellise says when he is done. Well, not done; he doesn’t know if he’d ever be truly done talking about Yuri. Yuri is constant. But night has fallen, the moon making its way high into the sky, and Flynn knows he should head back to the barracks and allow the Princess her rest.

“We are,” Flynn replies. Even when they have periods of time where they haven’t seen each other, the bond they have never falters or wanes. “I admire him a great deal. Just don’t tell him I said that. He has a big enough head as it is.”

Lady Estellise giggles, a pure sound, clear like a bell. “I don’t know if I’ll ever meet him,” she says, and then, before they can linger on the fact she is caged here like a bird, she continues: “Besides. You should tell him that yourself.”

Flynn pictures it, pictures the moment with perfect clarity. Yuri has snuck into his room again, without being spotted by a single guard, which is the most ridiculous thing in the world because he isn’t banned from visiting, but he sure can get in trouble for trespassing. But Yuri laughs, waves off the concern like he always does. Says something that plays into his bravado, about how he isn’t afraid of the guards or of jail. And they sit on Flynn’s bed, and Yuri recounts a tale of how he singlehandedly defeated a tax collector by tripping them into the river and didn’t get caught doing it, or something equally foolish and equally moral, and then Flynn’s heart gets stuck fluttering in his throat, his chest fills with something warm and wholesome, and he takes Yuri’s hand. Yuri’s startled, because they haven’t held hands since they were children. And he says those words.

And Flynn turns bright red.

“Mm-hmm,” Lady Estellise says, sounding all too satisfied and all too amused, and she pats Flynn’s shoulder. “One day, Flynn. I don’t know how a man like that couldn’t feel the same way for you.”

Flynn laughs, softly. “You don’t know Yuri,” he murmurs, almost exasperated. But at the same time, he clings to that little hope, the wind beneath his wings.

One day.