For You, The World.

O N E :

In all, it had been quite a satisfying day for Yuri Briar. Two suspects interrogated, both of them with a wealth of information regarding Westalis' current happenings. This had made him so content, in fact, that Yuri had been whistling the whole way home, a smug smile on his face, his hands comfortably stuffed into the front two pockets of his light grey cotton pants. 

So of course, Fate, with a knack for knowing when exactly Yuri Briar had felt contented enough, dropped a bomb on him, in the form of a familiar enough voice, which by all means, should not be, such a tone that sounded so utterly wrong coming from her, that made Yuri double take, his gait stiffening, in a way befitting a proper State Security Service official. 

Because that was Yor right there. 

Yes, the beast of the woman, who moved in such a fluid manner that spoke of years upon years of practice, with an unimaginable strength and a presence oppressive enough to make some of his colleagues at work want to cower and scamper like rats. 

That was Yor. Yor Briar, his sister, the kind, caring, young woman, his Yor, slashed at a man with a vengeance, a  rage that he had never seen. 

Yuri knew who it was the instant he had seen her, though, the voice was a dead giveaway. "Thank you for having me, mister." She had said, a sharp curve to her lips, a Glasgow grin splitting her usually angelic face into two unholy halves. 

Yor Briar, whose disastrous cooking he had come to love. Along with the rest of her, of course. 

He inhales sharply, a loud sound that reverberated in the alleyway in the silence of the night. A sound that did not go unheard by the assassin. Because that's what Yor was, that's what his sister was. An assassin. 

Yuri was going to take a long time to wrap his head around this. Yuri knew he had overstepped his bounds when the- when Yor, stiffened slightly, turning her head in an eerie manner, a golden knife still poised on the man's jugular. 

Yuri was a brave, manly man. That was why he ran like the Devil was chasing him. (And he refused to compare his sister to the Devil, but needs must.) He knew that he had been sighted, and prayed to all the Gods above, and then some, for good measure, that he had been ignored. And he had been; for Yuri Briar, the lucky bastard, was not being chased. 

---

The next morning, a well rested Yuri, lounging on his plush, royal blue couch, deep in thought. As an SSS officer, it wasn't his job to report on... Assassins, but he was still something of a Loyal Citizen, and as such a person, he needed to make sure that someone responsible for such... cases, was notified. 

That didn't mean he wanted to dob on his sister, though. Because he was always, always, a faithful brother to his sister first, and an SSS Officer second.  

But it was also war. Troubling times like these didn't have space for such sentimentality. But it was his Sister. 

---

A visit. That was what Yuri had decided on. One visit to their home, unannounced, a potential final goodbye — loath as he was to think such things — or, better yet, an opportunity for a second chance. 

---

He paused at the door, enormous bouquet of roses rested on the crook of his elbow, steeling himself. A tentative finger reached outward, towards the doorbell. Yuri pressed it before he had the chance to overthink. 

The day had been strategically chosen. Yuri had used up one of his sick leaves for this very occasion, a day where he knew Loid was supposed to be working. 

As expected, Yor opened the door. Yuri mentally congratulated himself when he only stiffened slightly, the all encompassing scent of blood imprinted onto his brain, a reminder of that night's events. 

"Ah Yuri! Come in, come in..." She spoke cheerfully, as always accepting the roses, and walking away, letting the man follow her once he had removed his shoes and coat. 

The child— Anya, her name was —looked to be the picture of concentration, staring intently onto a sheet which Yuri could only assume was her homework. He took a seat on an armchair nearby, relaxing a little as the smell of fresh lemon tea wafted in the air. Yor set it on the table in a few moments, taking the seat opposite to him. 

"So, what brings you here, on a working day, no less?" Asked Yor, a hint of incredulousness in her voice. 

"I, uh... just felt like visiting my Sister, Yor, is that a problem, now?" He responded, tone falling a little flat of genuine happiness, though his sister doesn't take notice, thankfully. 

"Did you sleep well?" He blurted out suddenly, hands nearly flying to his mouth, only stopping due to his impeccable control. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah! Why ask?" she said, obviously confused. 

Because I saw you murder a man, was left unvoiced. He shook his head and shrugged, focusing on emptying his tea, letting Yor take the reins of the Very Awkward Conversation™️. 

---

Yuri didn't understand why there was a child sitting in front of him, staring at him with her large green eyes, a hint of steel visible underneath. "Mama is a very good person," she spoke loftily, her childish voice unusually firm, "I like her very much." Wonderful. They had that in common at least. 

'Don't take her away from me.'  Was very implied. And let it never be said that Yuri isn't a loving, benevolent uncle, because he listens to the girl. 

As for exactly how she knew the reason for his sudden visit?  He never asks. Ignorance is bliss, after all...

---

When the war is over, years and years later, and he sees the content family of three, warmth and love radiating from every fibre of their beings, Yuri knows, in his heart of hearts, that he had made the right decision that day. 

When Yor turns to Anya, a beautiful smile on her face, Yuri's heart aches painfully, and he so wishes that that very same look could be directed to him, forever, please. 

Yor turns, red eyes sparkling like the setting sun reflected on the ocean, beckoning him closer. He smiles back, obliging. 

For there's nothing in the world he wouldn't do for Yor Forger. 

A/N: Thank you, Watermelon, for the idea!