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Befriend Me Drabble; Yuri

"Move it, spikey!" Kratos felt himself being shoved aside, and caught himself against a wall as a black mess of hair flew by. Kratos was rather familiar with this sort of situation at this point, and calmly waited by the wall for the mess of guards bound to pass by so as to not get in their way. After a short pause, a rather miserable display staggered through the streets.

"Stop, I say!"

"Fight us honorably, Yuri Lowell!"

Against all logic, the tiny one's voice resounded through the busy road. The taller, gangly guard's voice could only be described as snivelly. Kratos watched them pass silently, feeling embarrassed for the two as they stumbled over each other down the road. He had seen this happen twice before in the two months he had spent in this city, Zaphias. Always the same black blur, always the same two buffoons. It was frankly rather embarrassing for the local law enforcement. Though, it was not as if those with a large sway over the government's policies was going to be easily found here, in the lower quarter. Kratos liked it for the anonymity. He suspected that many others did as well. He sighed, lamenting the way things were in the low income areas of cities, and went about his way.

Later that evening, he came down from his room in the inn he had been staying in for his usual supper. Kratos had quickly pegged his hostess as... nosy, to say the best. He knew that she was going to get suspicious if he did not eat at least one meal a day. It was unfortunate how much wasted coin he had spent on her average quality stews in the past two months, but keeping up appearances was a fact of life. He sat down at the nearest empty table, holding up a finger to get the waitress' attention- she knew by now what he wanted. As he sat in silence, waiting for his meal, he pulled out a small knife and piece of wood. He was just beginning to carve when he heard a familiar female voice behind him.

"You know, The waitress is going to have to sweep all of that up later."

While he was surprised, Kratos did not flinch. He slowly turned around, gesturing in the general direction of the filthy floor. "I do not suspect that the hostess makes cleaning a priority in this establishment, Ms. Lowell." Lo and behold, it was that mysterious black blur made flesh. She had a stoic, indifferent face, and a very casual demeanor. Well, her face HAD been rather indifferent, but he could see the surprise in her eyes as he used her name.

"I guess my reputation precedes me." That surprise was gone in an instant, and she looked indifferently about the room as she put her feet up on the table. It was clear that she did not care too heavily about the inn's cleanliness. So then, why had she initiated conversation? Perhaps curiosity. He had been here for two months after all, rarely interacting with anyone. Word traveled fast in tightly knit communities like this.

Kratos grunted. "Rather, you often precede a few buffoons with quite loud voices." The young woman looked at him puzzlingly for a moment, before recognition gleamed in her eyes.

"Oooh, Spikey. Sorry about that." She crossed her legs, leaning back in her chair. "You got a better name for me to use?"

"Kratos, thank you. And do not concern yourself. I am quite familiar with slums, and not unfamiliar with miscreants such as yourself." The statement of miscreant was purely factual, and it showed in the deadpan in his voice.

"...Miscreant, Eh?" She raised an eyebrow. This young lady seemed annoyed or amused, or perhaps both. "Well, Mr. High and Mighty, you already know my name, so I guess we are introduced." She pulled her legs off of the table, standing up. "Looks like your stew is coming, so I guess I will leave you to your meal." Yuri made her way through the inn, stopping at the entrance. The stew was set in front of Kratos, and he bent over it, savoring the warmth as he pretended to occupy himself with it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a questioning look on her face. She stood there for a few seconds, giving him that curious look, before stepping out into the cold night air.

Kratos began to eat his stew in earnest. Average, as expected. Too much broth, not enough filling. He wondered why this young girl had taken an interest in him. He would learn the reason for her curiosity in time, with patience. If he had learned anything from his long life, it was that she was undoubtedly going to run into him again.

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