#neoborg

(A bit YuKa if you really squint)

I’m also taking into account some aspects of Takao Aoki’s Novel.

Starting from the beginning…

I imagine Yuriy as someone who was shaped almost entirely inside the Balkov Abbey. Like everyone in that place, he was raised to be obedient and efficient. And he was — he didn’t become a leader by accident. Whether that was due to merit or how much he yielded and how deeply Biovolt got into his head is debatable. Following some events from Takao Aoki’s Novel, he enters the Abbey “voluntarily,” but out of desperation, not ambition.

The Abbey was his last refuge (and, at the time, Boris’s as well). It was shelter from cold and hunger, from violence and parental abandonment. He chooses the promise of a home, food, and belonging. I can see Yuriy growing up believing that the world is a closed, hierarchical system — that’s the worldview he develops: there will always be someone at the top. There is someone who gives orders and someone who follows them. Those who survive are the ones who understand the rules and make themselves useful.

But how did his life change once he joined the organization?

This is where the headcanon begins: Yuriy certainly spent a long time within closed walls, almost entirely cut off from the outside world, practically breathing routine. He saw almost always the same rooms, the same people, the same uniforms, the same sounds of his own footsteps and those around him. There were some gradual changes, but they were minimal. This formed very rigid patterns in his mind, a scope of predictability — but at the same time, it took something away from him: childhood wonder and, consequently, the ability to deal with the most mundane things.

The first thing I think of is that Yuriy is dense, rigid. He lives and breathes for the Organization and believes he has enough for his purposes. Well — he doesn’t.

When the Neoborg is finally allowed out of institutional confinement, away from the intensive training for the world championship, Yuriy keeps his cold façade but is completely lost:

He realizes he doesn’t know how to deal with ordinary people: if he needs to resolve any situation for his team at headquarters or similar places, he doesn’t know how to handle being treated as incapable (it’s much like how some adults treat a child — and that’s not something he’s used to). He remains serious all the time, and all the adults around him can only find it adorable;

How he reacts to other children behaving in the outside world, and to noises beyond the beydish: screams, crying, laughter, general disorganization. He wouldn’t just not know how to behave around an unguarded child — he would automatically worry about them. By reflex, he’d expect them to be corrected or even punished, but that never happens;

He isn’t familiar with the concept of ordinary food (diners, markets, food “without a purpose”). He eats quickly, even when there’s no urgency. He distrusts things given for free, even discounts. Pleasure is not a criterion; food is efficiency. This is a trait that takes a long time to change, and he can remember his mind going completely blank when asked about his favorite food or personal preferences.

In public spaces, he always keeps his back to a wall. He calculates exit routes automatically. He analyzes people and is unsettled when they get distracted or trip. The outside world always puts him on extreme alert — at first, he finds it worse than being inside the labs, because the environment is unpredictable and his memories of the outside world are vague at best.

With objects like mugs, towels, soft clothes, he tends to test their durability, stitching, and weight. Use will always matter more than comfort or appearance. On top of that, he’s far more used to receiving clothes/uniforms than choosing them.

Free time is another issue. It makes him restless. Before he can even become idle, he creates training routines, maintenance tasks — he looks for anything to fill that void, because he was raised to be this way: productive, with no room for distractions.

In the present, even after the fall of the Abbey, Yuriy internalizes the oppressor:

Within the Neoborg, even as an entity far removed from Biovolt’s chains, Ivanov still thinks in terms of efficiency, control, and sacrifice. He struggles to believe in “free” choices or affection without cost.

Even after years, this doesn’t disappear.

He still has serious trouble understanding social norms:

He thanks people mechanically;

He doesn’t understand when someone is offended by his coldness;

He doesn’t perceive implicit emotional expectations;

Emotional subtext goes unnoticed — if something isn’t said explicitly, he doesn’t assume it (he’s probably missed a few flirtations here).

When it comes to kindness and hospitality, it throws him off:

He immediately feels indebted and tries to “pay it back” quickly;

He has asked for the price and didn’t understand how that could be rude (but he keeps gifts with extreme care, sometimes never using them so they won’t wear out).

In social settings overall, he’s polite (sometimes not so much), but above all, rigid. Yuriy learned the world like a technical manual. On top of that, he has a tendency to be so dense that he unsettles even his teammates, especially Boris and Ivan. This leads to some hilarious — and slightly concerning — situations.

Kai Hiwatari in the equation:

Unlike Yuriy, Kai is taken to the Abbey by his own grandfather. He doesn’t choose anything — he is chosen as a resource. It’s an intimate betrayal, not an institutional one. And that’s devastating on a different level.

Kai grows up with more existential beliefs:

Blood ties are the first thing he learns — they don’t mean protection;

Declared love does not prevent violence;

Family can be the greatest predator (and here I’m assuming the anime version of Kai, who didn’t know / didn’t have contact with his parents).

Control is something he vehemently rejects — not just physical pain, but the idea of being owned, used, or redefined. He takes autonomy as an absolute value. He doesn’t accept guardianship, doesn’t accept “it’s for your own good”; any attempt at control is a trigger (see his reaction when Mr. D offers Kai a spot on the Bladebreakers team…).

He uses silence as resistance, learning not to react — not merely out of coldness, but because reaction feeds the executioner. This becomes a fracture in his very foundation:

“If my own blood did this, no one is trustworthy.”

That belief only strengthens once he learns that a family can be loving (see Tyson and his grandfather), but that realization also brings confusion and frustration.

So it’s not surprising that he’s extremely reserved. He’s probably incapable of asking for help without feeling threatened and is extremely careful with bonds (I can only think of Kai’s face when Max first reached out his hand, lmao).

On the other hand, by fleeing the Abbey — even in the way it happened — Kai learned a great deal from the world. He likely has a traveler’s side, not on Rei’s level, but enough that he understands far better how to deal with people than Yuriy did as a child (he simply ignores most of that implicit nonsense).

When they start working together for the first time, Kai is probably stunned by Ivanov’s lack of tact — which must have earned a few looks from the others like, “yeah, that’s just how he is.” There was definitely a lot of headache involved, many moments where Kai pinches the bridge of his nose to keep from losing it and takes over certain tasks to avoid catastrophic events and the loss of one or two sponsors.

(“Seriously, how did you get this far with this shi-- behavior?!”)

At some point, Kai just understands that Yuriy was raised differently — he infers that from the place where he himself was raised, even if he doesn’t remember much of it. Deep down, he genuinely tries to be understanding, but he’s not very good at it, so he just shows how it’s done bluntly and expects Yuriy to copy it. There are arguments along the way, and some wounds get reopened from time to time — because they’re just teenagers in the end and don’t know how to deal with differences.

In moments where the two have to truly deal with each other, I can imagine that:

Yuriy may see Kai as ungrateful or reckless.

Kai may see Yuriy as complicit or complacent.

Ironically, I don’t really see them as rivals, but as sharing a kind of grief.

This behavior is certainly more pronounced toward the general public, ordinary people. There are few moments when they step out of that shell — either when they find a space where they can be themselves (by which I mean freedom and intimacy), or moments when they let some level of excitement slip through, such as bey battles or whatever risky nonsense they decide to try.

In summary, I’d say both are pragmatic, but Yuriy had to break through the social rigidity caused by an oppressive environment. Kai, on the other hand, always had a rebellious streak and, despite always being alone, had contact with a greater diversity of people earlier on — but his way of interacting turned into caution disguised as distrust.