Lady Luck is Smilin'

Jenn’s anxiety flared to life, and she began to shuffle in place, gesturing with hand and feet some indescribable despair.

“Crap.” Her right eye twitched, and she let out a small moan.

“You alrighty?”

She held her breath, bringing herself still. “Mostly.”

The pain hadn't truly left her. Numarei pornbait Kyoujou had left her mark in fist and pummel, and she was feeling it with every sudden jolt of movement.

“I need to think.” Jenn downed a mug of Indarian ale. “Okay, I'm ready.” She stopped again, then reached for another mug.

Filly extended his human hand, resting it on hers. “Maybe not.”

“Good idea.” Jenn agreed and sat back. “Speaking of good ideas, kinda lacking any at the moment. How'd you get your token?”

“I signed up. They done check my abilities, and that was that.”

Jenn raised a finger. “So you're a participant too!” There was pride. “Ha, OK, that aside, still stuck here.”

“What was your plan ‘fore?”

“Fight someone and take their token. But.” She pulled at the hem of her medical tunic. “You can guess how that went. And I'd be willing to try my luck again, too.”

“But the pain’s still there, ain't it?”

“Exactly. And logically speaking, anyone entering such a tournament is probably strong enough to take care of me in this state.”

“Even Kaito-boy?”

“Even Kaito-boy,” Jenn solemnly answered. “Assuming Kaito-boy is participating in the first place.”

The two fell into thought, obvious by their stillness and lack of drink. But time was running short, and the pressure of all that would be weighed upon Jenn.

“What if… What if there’s a way to get a token without fighting?”

“Thievin’, you mean.”

“I’m not good at that. Granted, I’ve never tried, so I could be, but I doubt. I doubt it very much.”

“There’s always a way out the tunnel,” said Filly in conciliation. “Always a way.”

“Of course. As long as you have a flashlight and a good pair of feet, you can navigate out of anything.”

A barmaid passed right by, holding two mugs of beer. She set them down, and Jenn passed her the usual coin. At that moment, Filly’s eyes happened to glance down, and as it did, settled long and hard on the coin.

It was an American Silver Eagle. But different. Imprinted with the image of a man with a katana.

Finally, on the precipice of a discovery, Filly retrieved an Indarian coin and compared the two.

“Heh.” He neighed. “Lady Luck is smilin’ on you, Jenn.”

Jenn stared; slowly, her brown eyes grew wide and determined. She always had a strong look about her. But now she had a smart look, an unprecedented amount of intelligence for her rather bull-headed self.

“Lady Luck,” Jenn said. With a degree of satisfaction thus unseen.

Lady Luck can get a finger up the bum, all right.

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The tavern door swung wide to the sight of Jenn, a sigh on her lips, and a dull light in her eyes. She made her way towards Filly, walking bit by bit. Then, she fell. Seized by a sudden burst of paralysis, Jenn hit her chin on a countertop.

The sound came loud, and those around stopped to watch.

“Ah, shit.” She moaned. “Shit.” She clutched her ribs and heaved a heavy breath.

Jenn looked up in pain and saw several extend glances her way. She never cared much for this sort of sympathy. Given by who knows who for who knows what. But she did take notice, eyes in narrowed pensive slits, sweeping the long square of a tavern. The important ones, she remembered. Those betrayed as an evident Protagonist (a John Lennon lookalike with realistic features, a cell-shaded robot, and a young black-haired boy, surrounded by his harem of three).

“You alright?” With consideration, Filly extended a hand.

Jenn took it with a smile and pulled herself up. As she did, a rather curious thing slid from her great overcoat. She did not notice it fall. But Filly did, and that was the start of his curiosity.

He stood there, idle as a scarecrow, just sort of debating between what to do. It took long, but eventually, Filly snatched the coin and ran back to Jenn.

He held the coin up. “How much?”

Jenn’s eyes grew wide. “Excuse me?”

His horsehead darted around, black eyes like big, stuttering beetles. It was an obvious tell. And it became more obvious still when he hushed Jenn and ushered her to a table nearby.

Down the two sat, and down went their heads, so inclined to secrecy they were.

“A hundred thousand dollars,” Filly said.

“What?” That sent Jenn aback. “Excuuuuse me?” She could not contain her bewilderment.

“Don’t play coy, missus.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. You’re trying to dissuade me. But I know what that is. An’ I think it’s high time it went into the hands of someone proper.”

Jenn shuffled in place, and spun her head in a circle. “Dude, I like, don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout man,” she said, droppin’ the g and a, for reasons thus unknown.

“A hundred thousand dollars on the table, missus. An’ you’ll pass it up for what? A gamble through hell and high water?”

“I’m not sure what you mean by gamble.”

Filly flipped a coin, and caught it on the back of his hand. “Guess.”

“Heads.”

He pulled back his hand. The coin was gone, disappeared beneath the sleeves of red denim.

“I don’t understand,” she sounded obtuse.

“It’s a figure of speech, Jenn.”

Deadpan. “A figure of hands,” she corrected.

He ignored her. “A zero-sum game, Jenn. That’s what you’re walkin’ into. With nothin’ but hope between your ears, and jelly in your legs. What’s the point?”

“I dunno. A participation trophy?”

“Look around you, lady. We’re all fighters ‘ere. Some weaker. Some stronger. But all better than the state er in. A participation trophy worth receivin’ with a few limbs missing?”

The hand that was by his hip now withdrew his revolver. It remained in the shade, pointed beneath the table. From Jenn’s lungs came a sudden groan, then the pain of having groaned, then the subsequent pain of that too.

“How do you plan to win the tourney? You can’t handle the basic format, much less the one you’re wanderin’ into.” He reached into his leather jacket. “Tell you what. A hundred thousand dollars, plus a little token of my app—”

Jenn rose at once and took a few steps away from the table. Reaching out her arms, she started a series of jumping jacks, breathing hard with each exertion.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.” Jenn continued with hard breaths, wheezing all the while. “I’m not fine. I’m not fine. I’m not fine. I’m not—oh my god MY HAMSTRINGS!”

She crumpled then and there, with as much grace as her jumping jacks. Filly stood and watched. Followed by a few others, one approaching right about then.

“Are you alright?” said Kaito black-hair, high-school-kun.

If it was anything like his own narrative, the situation proved rather simple.

Filly was an evil, two-faced, possible molester horseman.

Jenn was a foreign, older onee-san archetype who had to be saved to become a tsundere heroine.

And Kaito was the ultimate winner, who’d acquire true love at the high price of very basic kindness (sasuga author-sama—clearly, you have dated and wooed many a woman).

“It ain’t your concern,” said Filly, with as much evil as horse eyes could muster.

But Kaito ignored him and bent the knee with hand outstretched. “Are you alright?”

Jenn sniffed. “No.” She sniffed again. “I don’t know what to do, Kaito-kun. I’m getting metaphorically fucked sideways, right now. All I can say is that everything I ever wanted was before me. And really, that it still is, but I can’t bring myself to walk over there and take what I want anymore. I'm crippled, Kaito-kun. Crippled.”

She took his hand and practically fell into Kaito’s body. Stumbling once, dipping her knees (because she was a head taller), and resting her head on his shoulder. Kaito gasped. Her chest pressed against his, and really, they were rather comfortable, and had the expected effect on a boy his age.

(Under any other circumstance, this would not be worth mentioning, but since the question of Jenn’s assets has not yet been brought into question, and they were now particularly relevant to the situation at hand, I thought it might be noted. As an added note, she is rather pretty overall, and might satisfy some ‘adult woman’ fetish, as strange as that sounds—because yes, most sensible adults are into other adults—who would have guessed—but also ‘adult’ in this case has a dual connotation e.g onee-san vibes—if you don't know what this means, good, if you do, it's already too late).

“Alright,” said Kaito, in some consoling effort. “I think I understand.” He didn't. Not really. Boobs have a strange effect on a teenage boy’s mind, even a cardboard excuse for one. “It's about that coin.”

In the cold, blue light, Jenn’s face had an ethereal touch. “The coin it's—”

“Don't you say it,” Filly said.

“It's a token,” Jenn confirmed. She sighed and swayed her head from side to side. “I'm tired of beating around the bush. It’s a special token you get by virtue of doing exceptionally well on the entrance exam. And this guy wants it from me.”

It looked as if Filly had been caught between a rock and a hard place.

He let out a horse’s sigh and put his hand on Kaito. “Now listen ‘ere…”

But Jenn was having none of that. Shooting him a glare, she stepped a few paces back and went for the tavern’s exit. “Stop trying to convince him, Filly!” Jenn took the token and pressed it to her lip. “You won’t be threatening anyone anymore! If you so much as try to hurt poor Kaito-kun, I’ll eat the damn coin, and you’ll have to dig it out of my shit and bowels!”

“Now hold on just a sec!” Filly went after her, and Jenn went out the tavern.

Kaito was left all alone now. He and his two harem members left staring into the ever-closing door. The development was sudden and strange. The tone a bit haphazard.

And perhaps realising that, the tavernkeep snickered and looked to Kaito’s way.

“Couldn’t be worse if they tried.”