Bets and Jealousy

The morning after the ambush dawned clear. Sunbeams slipped through the cave mouth like golden fingers, lighting the dust hanging in the air. Asori stretched clumsily, feeling—for the first time in weeks—that the weight on his chest wasn’t an immovable stone.

The reason sat in front of him: Mikan, leaning against the wall, absentmindedly sharpening a kunai while trading barbs with Mikrom, who’d popped in before heading back to the Capital to deliver a written message for Tifa.

—You really think that butcher joke was funny? —she said, eyebrow arched.

—Come on, admit it, you laughed —Mikrom insisted.

—I laughed at how pathetic it was. —Mikan twirled the kunai and flipped it into the air, catching it with ease.

Asori watched in silence, a small smile tugging at his mouth. It was strange, but for the first time since Lira, he felt able to smile again.

Blair noticed—and though part of her was glad, another part tightened into a knot in her chest.

Once Mikrom said his goodbyes and set off for the Capital, the air between the three shifted. With every step, Mikan found a reason to drift too close to Asori. She fixed the way he adjusted his cloak, called him “mountain brat” with a mischievous grin, even asked what kind of girl he liked.

Asori, as usual, understood none of it.

—What kind of girl? I dunno… someone who doesn’t bother me while I’m eating my favorite bread.

Mikan burst into laughter.

—Perfect! Then I win, because while you’re chewing I’m not saying a word.

Blair tightened her fist, a vein throbbing on her forehead.

—What’s wrong, “Gray-haired Princess”? —Mikan murmured, catching the discomfort.

—Nothing —Blair shot back, blushing.

Asori raised a brow, confused.

—Why’d you call her Princess again? And leave the “gray-hair” jokes to me; I said it first.

—Instinct —Mikan said, amused, tossing Blair a wink just to needle her more.

They covered several kilometers that day before finding a makeshift shelter in the woods. Tired, they kindled a small fire and shared what rations they’d brought from the Capital. Weariness won out quickly, and they turned in.

Asori fell asleep on his side, back toward Blair—as if they were getting used to sleeping near each other.

Restless, Blair waited for Mikan’s breathing to settle before inching closer. Flushing, she wrapped an arm around Asori from behind like he was a stuffed toy.

—Idiot… —she whispered, voice trembling—. I don’t know why I get like this. I’m jealous, you know? Jealous of that ninja who laughs with you like nothing happened…

She rested her forehead against his back and closed her eyes.
—And even so… I’m happy to see you smile, even a little… even after Lira.

The Sweet Kiss hummed, carrying Asori’s calm sleep to her—like a child without nightmares for the first time.

Blair blushed deeper, murmuring almost to herself:

—I’m such a fool. We’re just friends. That’s all. So why on earth am I jealous?

Across the fire, Mikan cracked one eye open without moving. She heard every word. A sly smile touched her lips before she let them fall still and feigned sleep again.

Dawn brought a different quiet. When Asori woke, he found Blair still holding him, her soft breath on his neck, white hair tangled against his skin like a little cloud.

For the first time, Asori really looked at her.

He noticed how soft her lips seemed, how her skin shone in the morning light, how the firelight lingered on her eyelids even asleep. He saw, too, the strength in her slender arms and the tenderness hidden in that unconscious embrace.

His chest fluttered strangely. He didn’t know what it was, but he couldn’t look away: for the first time, he was seeing Blair as more than a friend.

—Enjoying the view, huh? —a voice whispered.

Asori jolted—Mikan stood with arms crossed, wearing a cocky smile.

—Come with me. We need to talk.

They stepped a few paces from camp. Mikan pulled back her hood, short bluish hair tousled by the morning damp.

—Don’t think I joined you out of goodwill —she began—. I saved you because it suited me. But since we’re being honest… —she touched her bandaged side—, you should know something.

Asori watched, attentive.

—I’m from a poor village. We never had anything. When the Water Orb chose me, I thought it was a curse… until I learned I could sell my skills. I became an assassin out of necessity. Every contract, I sent money home. It was the only way they could eat.

Asori lowered his gaze, at a loss for words.

—Don’t look at me with pity —Mikan spat—. It was my choice. I’d make it again if I had to. Using this gift that way isn’t wrong—at least, that’s what I tell myself.

Just then Blair stepped out from behind a tree, arms crossed.

—If money’s what you lack, you don’t have to keep risking your life like that. Join us. When the war’s over, the Kingdom of Azoth will cover your village’s needs.

Mikan arched a brow.

—And what do I get for betting on you?

—A better life for your people —Blair said, steady.

Mikan’s smile turned wicked.

—Fine, I’m in. But on one condition… —she angled toward Asori, leaning in a little too close—. If I win the tournament, I become your girlfriend.

Asori blinked.
—My what?

Blair stepped forward, scarlet with fury.
—What did you just say?!

—Relax, “Gray-Haired Princess” —Mikan laughed—. It’s just a bet.

Asori lifted his hands, flustered.

—What is happening? Why are you two fighting?

Blair huffed, turning away with a burning face.
—You’re an idiot, Asori!

Mikan savored every second.

Back at camp, Mikan settled by the fire with feigned indifference. Asori was still processing, while Blair kept her brows knitted and lips pressed thin.

But beneath the teasing, tension, and confessions, something had shifted: they weren’t three broken travelers anymore, but a team in the making.

Asori felt it in his chest—for the first time, he wasn’t alone. A warmth took shape he could almost call family.

Mikan, however, as she closed her eyes, let slip a thought she shared with no one.

This tournament won’t be just gold or bets. There’s more… and I’m going to find it—even if I have to stake my life.