people who ship two characters from completely separate films or series are metal as fuck like they will literally never have any canonical interaction between their otp and they still believe in their true and perfect love like bless you guys you are some hardcore romantics
The sun shone high above the Coliseum and its cheering crowd. It had been a long morning continuous battles, but at last came the final round, the one that would determine the strongest fighter in this tournament. Milla didn’t particularly care about the title or the amusement of the spectators. While she had earned her spot in the finale thanks to her sword and artes, she was ultimately standing there by chance.
During her exploring of Terca Lumireis, the Lord of Spirits found the coastal city of Nordopolica, a place unlike anything she had seen before. A bustling entertainment center built in the heart of ancient ruins… Of course it piqued her interest.
But most importantly, the vendors were offering various exotic foods that Milla had never seen before! She just couldn’t believe how much this market offered as she was salivating, wanting to taste it all. That was until she remembered she did not have a single gald left, the disappointment obvious on her slender features.
It would come as no surprise that the merchant suggested she enter the tournament to win a high sum of gald, even adding that he would cook his secret recipe for her were she to win, as an extra incentive. Nordopolica businessmen were proud of their Coliseum, Milla discovered. There was no harm in participating in any case.
At least, those were her thoughts when she entered the competition. She easily beat every opponent she was presented with that morning, but during the short break before the final round she surprised men discussing her artes, how they suspected she wasn’t from around there…
Frowning, she wondered if she should be mindful of them or not. But her thoughts were cut short by the announcer shouting loud and clear: “It’s the voluptuous swordswoman, the dangerous beauty Milla Maxwell!” The gate opened in front of her; this was her queue to enter the arena.
Walking past the referee, she finally set eyes upon her opponent, who was surprisingly a very familiar face. “Yuri?”
The announcer didn’t give them much time to react as he declared the start of the battle. “Men—and women—of the Coliseum! Let the flames of your valor burn bright! It’s time for the final showdown!”
Milla scoffed. “Well, we may as well fight.” She lunged for Yuri, her dark blade clanking against his katana. “It’s been a while, glad to see you well.”
When the announcer mentioned a familiar name, Yuri couldn’t believe his ears. The figure walking past the referee gradually became less of a blur, and at this point Yuri had shifted the disbelief into his eyes.
"What the—" The first word that came to mind had been the nickname he’d coined for her. "Mill?" He didn’t peg her as the type to find tournaments like this entertaining. She had to have entered with a purpose.
But he had little time to ponder on it from the swift start of the battle, and Milla immediately hurling herself towards him. He caught her sword in his, a miniscule amount of sparks made in their clashing.
"That’s what I came here for," came his rather eager response, hand quivering to keep their weapons balanced in between. "I could say the same to you. You’re feisty-looking," he commented. "As always."
And they were off. The crowd shied back as Yuri, all youth and lean muscle, swung backwards to separate his weapon from Milla’s, waving the slightly-hooked blade in flamboyant, circular motions. He cracked a smile, made sure to make eye contact. He couldn’t see uncertainty in his opponent’s eyes.
It was awesome.
"Do you actually enjoy stuff like this?" Yuri, not being the type to keep anyone in dead air, especially in a fight, asked when they were a few meters apart.
This was crazy. He knew it. Crazy didn’t mean two remaining swords in the stage—his, a lightly-hooked katana, and hers, a dark one-handed sword, maybe. Crazy meant he was turning a blade against the lord of the spirits, and he was enjoying the experience.
This time he was the one who lunged forward with his sword upheld. As he got closer, he swung it overhead then under, half-expecting the attack to connect, but half-expecting it to be dodged or deflected. It could go either way.
She was the great Milla Maxwell, after all.
"Is that so?" Richard answered an almost playful smirk on his face. "I will certainly have to keep that in mind. There is not much that catches even you off-guard."
Richard’s smile faded to a more genuine expression, one warm and filled with contentment, that few were close enough to coax from the monarch.
"That is why I said you need not flattery," he continued. "You have a sincerity that I do not think many realize; your words carry a truth spoken from your heart in ways I doubt I ever could. Your presence alone is reassuring, your friendship a constant support, even in your absence. Flattery is no more than a kind word for falsehoods, you are far beyond such things."
"Don’t ever lose that."
Raising a brow at that, Yuri stared at Richard with mock annoyance. “Please don’t make it a habit.”
The change in Richard’s expression was subtle, but Yuri noticed it nonetheless. It was relaxed, contented, something only few could truly muster in a lifetime.
Yuri didn’t realize that the smile was meant for him, so Richard had caught him off-guard more than once today. How could Richard even speak those words with a straight face?
"Hey, hey, now you’re just overdoing it. What am I supposed to say to that?"
He’d gotten used to insults, rude comebacks, harsh words spat on his face, but flattery (or compliments in this case) he usually waved a dismissive hand at. Richard was sincere, Yuri knew that. From the way Richard would look so pleasantly surprised whenever Yuri did something for him, or when he’d referred to him as a friend for the first time, it led him to believe that Richard rarely placed his faith on someone.
That was probably a compliment on its own.
She looked at the dish, it was nicely done, a little artist take on croquettes, which she appreciated. “Yuri Lowell huh?” she asked then pointed at herself. “Believe it or not my given name is also Yuri, but I go by Yui. So, Yui Suzumoto.” she replied. “So, what made you decide to go into the cooking art?”
Ironically, Yuri knew nothing about art, but it still showed in his cooking, apparently. Just in his cooking, though. When she referred to herself as also Yuri, then Yui immediately after, he grinned. “Is there no end to the coincidences?”
Pausing at the latter question, he had to look up and think about it. “I needed the money, but at the same time I wanted something I could feel less… bored about, so here we are.”
"Heeeey, I gave you plenty." As plenty as someone like Yuri Lowell could give, anyway. "Still, can’t force ya if you’ve decided."
☠ "There are many reasons of why I like them! But it would probably be boring to talk about apple gels all this time…" As much as he loved them, it was quite a strange topic… Plus, why talk about them, when you could just eat them instead!? An awkward laugh made it’s way past Karols lips.
"Okay, okay, I won’t! I’ll be careful this time!" Cause Karol knew all about being careful!
"I admit it’s not one of my favorite pastimes." But if Karol was enjoying himself, why not? Yuri didn’t mind it, although if he could avoid listening to an hour-long spaz about gels, he probably would.
Mirroring Karol’s laugh, he waved a dismissive hand and let it land on top of his auburn head, ruffling his hair in the process.
"So, how’s our guild doing? Are we okay?"