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Another of my tiny pieces about Yuri being sad: fun for all!

Title: Leaving Early
Characters: Yuri Petrov
Word count: 720
Rating: PG13
Warnings: References to death.
Summary: The moments between work and home don't always pass quickly.



He's had a long and tiring morning at court. On bad days, it's more difficult for him to keep his composure. This had been one of those days. He'd caught a few minutes of a documentary about Mr. Legend on one of the networks before he'd left for his daily commute. A laudatory piece, as usual, praising the masked man for his many heroic actions. Heroic. What a joke. Yuri knows the true nature of Mr. Legend's so-called heroism. The staged stunts, the false captures. And at home, his actions had been far worse than that. Once, perhaps, he had been a true Hero, but his later years had turned him into something else altogether. These thoughts set Yuri on edge, make him jumpy. At any moment, he half expects to see the tall, broad figure of his father appear in the periphery of his vision, in spite of the fact that he died years ago.

Father.

Yuri has had a few cups of tea, but they'd failed to calm him, so he'd left the Administration of Justice offices early. He hadn't wanted to return home right away. His mother's daytime caregiver will be there for another few hours, so there is no need for him to hurry back. Home is no comfort, provides no solace or relief, especially not from that which he most wants to escape: his past. The past haunts his home. His mother's screams and tears, chairs where his father used to rest. The garage was torn down long ago, but Yuri knows too well where it once stood, and he often finds himself drawn to the window that looks out over that patch of land.

Where father died.

Instead of home, he makes his way to the park, briefcase in hand. He stops to buy a sandwich from one of the more upscale vendors, then looks for a place he can sit to eat. He isn't hungry, but if he doesn't eat, he'll grow sick. He has to keep up his strength. He needs his strength for his real work. As he walks through the park, he is aware of the trees and other greenery surrounding him, the water rising from the fountain and falling into the pool below, making a soothing, liquid murmur, but he doesn't slow to study or enjoy his environment, remains focused on his goal until he finds a suitable bench. It's set away from the most well-traveled thoroughfares, shaded from the sun by the trees. He sits and begins to eat.

Suddenly, he tenses. He'd known it would happen eventually. There's someone sitting beside him, a weight pressing down on the other side of the bench. Yet he'd sensed no approach, as if they'd simply appeared there. He knows that presence.

"Good afternoon, Father." No, he shouldn't have said that. The words, polite yet bitter, had come from him involuntarily. He presses his lips together tightly. He must not say anything else. Part of him knows he is sitting alone. However, although there is no answer to his greeting, another part of him remains sure that someone's sitting with him. A powerful emotion sweeps through him, temporarily paralyzes him. Is it fear, or is it anger? Sometimes the two are the same. Frozen, his sandwich in his hands, Yuri stares fixedly down at the ground before him, as small birds begin to gather around the bench. They cock their heads, gazing up at the bread in his hands hopefully. Finally, with an effort of will, Yuri manages to turn his own head.

There's no one there.

He sighs, and some of the tension leaves him, if not all. Tension is a constant companion. He glances down at the sandwich, but instead of eating it now, he tears it with his hands. In an oddly violent motion, he breaks it into pieces and scatters them, for the birds to eat. He should eat as well, but he'll have something else later. For now, he'll watch the birds, hopping from place to place, overjoyed by the unexpected bounty.

So easily pleased. And so easily, afterward, they'll fly away. Soon enough, they'll forget that this ever happened. He wonders if anything ever troubles them. He can fly, but what must it be like, to truly fly away? Yuri sits there for a long time, waiting.

Date: 2011-12-15 03:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] redvelvetaddict.livejournal.com
Poor, sad Yuri ;________; <3
It's a lovely little story!

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