Chapter Text
Loid Forger knew better than anyone that successful espionage required adaptability. Sitting across from his handler Sylvia Sherwood in WISE’s briefing room, he reviewed the new file in his hands with a practiced calm.
The photo on the first page showed a young man with sharp features, bright eyes, and a smile that exuded an odd mix of confidence and innocence.
“Yuri Briar,” Sylvia began, her voice steady. “Nineteen years old. Publicly, he’s a civil servant, but there’s reason to believe he’s already been recruited into the State Security Service.”
Loid frowned. “A direct threat, then.”
“Potentially,” Sylvia admitted. “But that’s what makes him an opportunity. Yuri’s older sister, Yor Briar, works in City Hall, a department frequented by associates of Donovan Desmond. If you can gain Yuri’s trust, it could lead to valuable intel on Desmond’s network.”
Loid tapped the edge of the file thoughtfully. “And you think I can win him over?”
Sylvia smirked faintly. “Yuri is young, idealistic, and fiercely loyal to his family. If you position yourself as someone who shares his values, you might be able to forge a connection. Besides, someone like him is less likely to suspect a respected psychiatrist of ulterior motives.”
Loid nodded. “Understood. I’ll proceed carefully.”
---
Loid didn’t leave things to chance. Every encounter he orchestrated was meticulously planned, from the timing to the location. The first meeting took place at a quiet café near City Hall, where Yuri was a frequent patron.
The timing was perfect: Yuri was seated alone, poring over a stack of papers, his expression one of intense focus. Loid approached with a calm smile, his presence unassuming but magnetic.
“Excuse me,” Loid said, gesturing to the chair across from Yuri. “Would you mind if I sat here? It seems every other table is taken.”
Yuri looked up, startled. His first instinct was to brush the stranger off, but something about Loid’s polite demeanor gave him pause.
“Sure,” Yuri said after a moment, his tone cautious.
Loid settled into the chair and introduced himself as Dr. Loid Forger, a psychiatrist who had recently opened a practice nearby. Yuri offered a curt introduction, mentioning his role as a civil servant but keeping the details vague.
“You look like you’ve had a long day,” Loid remarked, his tone light.
Yuri glanced at the papers in front of him and shrugged. “It’s just work. Nothing exciting.”
Loid chuckled. “I used to say the same thing. But in my experience, it’s usually the busiest people who make the biggest impact.”
The compliment caught Yuri off guard. He blinked, unsure how to respond, and settled for a quiet, “Thanks.”
---
Over the next few weeks, Loid engineered several more "coincidental" meetings with Yuri. Each time, he subtly encouraged conversation, drawing Yuri out of his shell while revealing just enough about himself to seem genuine.
Yuri, despite his natural wariness, found himself intrigued. Loid was charming, intelligent, and surprisingly down-to-earth for someone in his profession. And then there was Anya.
“She’s four,” Loid had said one evening, after Yuri hesitantly asked about the child he’d mentioned in passing.
Yuri blinked. “You’re a single father?”
Loid nodded. “Her mother passed away when she was very young. It’s just the two of us now.”
For a moment, Yuri felt a pang of sympathy. Despite his own intense dedication to his work, family was everything to him. The thought of raising a child alone seemed both admirable and overwhelming.
“That must be tough,” Yuri said, his voice softening.
“It has its challenges,” Loid admitted, his smile tinged with just the right amount of melancholy. “But Anya’s worth it. She’s... a handful, but she’s got a good heart.”
---
The first time Yuri met Anya, it was entirely by accident—or so it seemed to him. Loid had “happened” to bring her along to the café where they usually met, claiming his babysitter had canceled at the last minute.
Anya, as usual, took an immediate interest in Yuri. She stared at him with wide, curious eyes, her tiny feet swinging back and forth under the table.
“Hi,” she said, her voice bright. “You’re Uncle Yuri?”
Yuri blinked, startled. “Uncle?”
Loid chuckled. “She has a habit of giving people nicknames. I hope you don’t mind.”
Yuri glanced at Anya again, unsure how to respond to the intense scrutiny of the child’s gaze. Finally, he muttered, “She reminds me of a Chihuahua.”
Loid raised an eyebrow, amused, while Anya puffed out her cheeks indignantly.
“I’m not a dog!” she declared, crossing her arms.
Despite himself, Yuri cracked a smile. “You’re not, huh? Could’ve fooled me.”
---
As the weeks turned into months, Loid and Yuri’s interactions grew more frequent and less guarded. Loid continued to project an image of sincerity, but he found himself increasingly drawn to Yuri’s earnestness. Beneath the younger man’s prickly exterior was a genuine kindness that Loid couldn’t help but admire.
Yuri, for his part, found himself looking forward to their conversations. Loid was the first person outside of his sister who seemed to truly understand him—not just the dutiful worker or the loyal brother, but *him*.
One evening, as they walked through the park after another shared coffee, Yuri hesitated before speaking.
“You know,” he began, his tone uncharacteristically shy, “I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone like you. Someone who... gets it.”
Loid glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “Someone who gets what?”
Yuri hesitated, then shrugged, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. “What it’s like to care too much. About work, about family. To want to do the right thing, even if it’s not easy.”
For a moment, Loid said nothing. Then, softly, he replied, “Maybe that’s why we get along so well.”
Yuri’s cheeks flushed, but he didn’t look away.