The silence in the room had become so oppressive that I could practically hear my own heartbeat echoing off the walls. Three pairs of eyes continued their psychological warfare while I stood frozen in the kitchen doorway, desperately trying to figure out how to navigate what my skills were unanimously classifying as a complete disaster waiting to happen.

But as I stood there, paralyzed by the complexity of the situation, a ridiculously simple solution occurred to me.

"Rock, paper, scissors," I said suddenly.

The psychological warfare stopped immediately. All three women turned to look at me with expressions that suggested I had just proposed solving international diplomacy with a coin flip.

"You want us to play rock, paper, scissors?" Camille asked slowly, as if she wasn't sure she had heard correctly.

"Why not?" I shrugged, trying to project more confidence than I actually felt. "It's fair, it's random, and nobody can complain about favoritism."

There was a moment of stunned silence before Alexis started laughing. Not the polite kind of laughter that meant she thought I was being ridiculous – genuine, delighted laughter that suggested she found the solution both unexpected and brilliant.

"That's actually perfect," she said, wiping tears from her eyes. "Completely removes any considerations."

"Fine by me," Camille said, though she looked like she was already strategizing. "But just to be clear – I'm playing scissors."

I blinked. That was... oddly specific. And strategically questionable, since announcing your move in advance generally defeated the entire purpose of the game.

"Scissors for me too," Alexis announced with the kind of casual confidence that suggested she was making a perfectly reasonable decision.

The moment both women announced their intentions, my skills activated simultaneously.

Psychological Insight immediately flagged their behavior as a classic misdirection tactic. By openly declaring their moves, they were trying to create doubt in their opponent's mind, forcing Sienna to second-guess whatever strategy she might have been planning. It was a form of psychological warfare disguised as casual conversation.

Instinct agreed with this assessment, providing additional analysis about the competitive dynamics at play. Both women were experienced enough to understand that announcing your move was typically counterproductive, which meant their declarations were intentional misdirection.

But then Lie Detection activated, and everything pointed to the same thing.

They weren't lying.

According to every skill I possessed, both Camille and Alexis were being completely honest about their intentions to play scissors. There was no deception, no hidden strategy, no psychological manipulation. They genuinely intended to do exactly what they had announced.

This made absolutely no sense. Why would two intelligent, competitive women both choose to play the same move when they knew their opponent could hear them? It was tactical suicide, guaranteeing that at best they would tie with each other while giving Sienna a free victory if she played rock.

I looked at Sienna, expecting to see the kind of calculating expression that meant she had realized she was being handed an easy win. Instead, she appeared to be staring off into space with a distant look that suggested she wasn't entirely present for the conversation.

"Sienna?" I prompted gently.

"Hmm?" She blinked, focusing on me with the slightly startled expression of someone who had been pulled out of deep thought. "Sorry, what were we talking about?"

"Rock, paper, scissors," Camille said with barely concealed impatience. "We're playing to see who goes on the next date."

"Oh, right." Sienna nodded absently. "That sounds fair."

She still looked like her mind was somewhere else entirely. I had a sinking feeling that she hadn't actually heard Camille and Alexis announce their moves, which meant she was going into this game completely blind while her opponents had already committed to a specific strategy.

This was going to be a disaster.

"Everyone ready?" I asked, though I was already bracing myself for the inevitable arguments that would follow when Sienna lost due to sheer inattention.

"Ready," all three women said in unison.

"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"

Three hands shot out simultaneously.

Camille: Scissors.

Alexis: Scissors.

Sienna: Rock.

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone stared at the results. Camille and Alexis were looking at their own hands with expressions of complete bewilderment, as if they couldn't quite believe what they had just done. Sienna was blinking at her closed fist with the kind of mild surprise that suggested she wasn't entirely sure how it had gotten there.

"I... actually won?" Sienna said uncertainly.

"You did," I confirmed, though I was just as shocked as everyone else. "Congratulations."

"But how did you know?" Camille demanded, staring at Sienna with something approaching awe. "We both said we were playing scissors. That was supposed to be misdirection to make you overthink your choice, but you played the perfect counter. That's some next-level psychological warfare."

Sienna looked genuinely confused. "You said you were playing scissors?"

"Yes," Alexis said slowly. "We both announced it before the game started. Didn't you hear us?"

"I..." Sienna frowned, clearly trying to remember. "I'm sorry, I think I was distracted. I wasn't really listening." ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ ɴoᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt

"Then how did you know to play rock?" Camille pressed.

"I wasn't thinking about the game at all," Sienna admitted with a slight blush. "I was actually thinking about my old construction job. We had this project where we were moving these massive stone blocks, and I kept thinking about how much my back hurt after lifting rocks all day. When you said 'shoot,' I just threw out the first thing that came to mind."

The silence that followed this explanation was so complete that I could hear the air conditioning humming in the background.

"You won by accident," Alexis said finally. "You beat our psychological strategy with completely random chance."

"I guess so?" Sienna looked around at all of us with an expression that was equal parts apologetic and bewildered. "Is that... bad?"

I couldn't help but start laughing. The entire situation was so absurd – two master manipulators defeated by someone who wasn't even paying attention – that any other response seemed inadequate.

"It's perfect," I said, still chuckling. "Absolutely perfect."

Camille looked like she couldn't decide whether to be impressed or frustrated. "I can't tell if that's the most brilliant strategy I've ever seen or if you're just incredibly lucky."

"Probably just lucky," Sienna said with a self-deprecating smile. "But I'll take it."

"A win is a win," I agreed. "Looks like you're getting the next date."

The competitive tension in the room evaporated instantly, replaced by a mixture of good-natured resignation and renewed excitement. Even Camille seemed to have accepted the results with surprisingly good grace, though I caught her muttering something about "impossibilities" under her breath.

"When do we go?" Sienna asked, and there was something in her voice – a quiet anticipation that she was trying to keep casual – that made my chest feel warm.

"Tomorrow morning?" I suggested. "If that works for you."

"It works perfectly," she said, and the smile she gave me was soft and genuine in a way that made everything else fade into the background.

The next morning arrived with unusually cooperative weather – clear skies and moderate temperature that suggested the day was determined to be perfect whether we liked it or not. I was adjusting my jacket in the hallway mirror when Camille emerged from her room with an armload of clothing and an expression that could have curdled milk.

"Here," she said, thrusting the clothes toward me with the kind of aggressive helpfulness that suggested she was still processing her defeat from the night before. "Coordinated outfits. Don't mess them up."

I took the clothes gratefully, ignoring the implied threat. "Thank you, Camille. I know you didn't have to—"

"You're right, I didn't have to," she interrupted. "But I did anyway, because I'm a professional and I take pride in my work. Even when it's for people who win things through completely ridiculous circumstances."

"I heard that," Sienna called from her room, though she sounded more amused than offended.

"Good," Camille called back. "You were supposed to."

Despite her grumpy demeanor, the outfits Camille had selected were flawless. For me, she had chosen dark jeans that actually fit properly, a soft gray sweater that was comfortable without being casual, and a jacket that looked expensive without being ostentatious. For Sienna, she had selected a flowing skirt in deep blue, a cream-colored blouse that somehow managed to be both elegant and approachable, and a light cardigan that tied the whole look together perfectly.

When Sienna emerged from her room, I had to take a moment to remember how to breathe properly. She looked beautiful, but more than that, she looked comfortable and confident in a way that made the entire ensemble seem effortless.

"Ready?" she asked, and there was a slight nervousness in her voice that she was trying to hide behind casual friendliness.

"Ready," I confirmed, offering her my arm.

The destination I had chosen was one that held particular significance, though I hadn't mentioned that detail when making the plans. The mall we went to was an unusual one, built into what had once been an industrial district and converted into something that managed to be both modern and nostalgic at the same time. The architecture was a mixture of restored brick warehouses and contemporary glass additions that somehow worked together to create something genuinely unique.

But more importantly, it was where Sienna had helped me, back when I was struggling through my initial B-Rank advancement.

"This place," Sienna said as we approached the main entrance, and there was recognition in her voice. "I remember this place."

"I was hoping you would," I admitted. "It seemed appropriate."

She stopped walking and turned to look at me with an expression that was equal parts surprised and touched. "You brought me back to where we met."

"Well, technically we met at the construction site," I said, trying to keep the mood light. "But this seemed like a more romantic setting for a second first date."

"Second first date," she repeated, and the smile that spread across her face was radiant. "I like that."

We spent the morning exploring the shops and galleries, moving at a comfortable pace that allowed for both conversation and comfortable silence. Sienna had an eye for craftsmanship that came from her construction background, pointing out architectural details and design elements that I would never have noticed on my own likely due to how I ignored construction working when I got multiple jobs. In return, I found myself sharing observations about the people around us, the way the space had been designed to encourage certain traffic patterns, the subtle security measures that most visitors would never realize were there.

"You still do that," she said as we paused at a coffee shop overlooking the main concourse.

"Do what?"

"Analyze everything," she said, but there was fondness in her voice rather than criticism. "Ever since you got Detective as a job, you were constantly cataloguing every detail around you. I used to wonder if you ever just... experienced things without dissecting them."

"I'm working on it," I said, which was true. Being around her made it easier to simply be present rather than constantly processing.

"Don't work too hard on it," she said, bumping my shoulder gently with hers. "It's part of what makes you who you are."

We found a quiet bench near a fountain that hadn't been there during the construction project, settling in with our coffee and pastries while watching the afternoon crowd flow around us.

"Can I ask you something?" Sienna said after a comfortable stretch of people-watching.

"Always."

"When you were going through your B-Rank advancement, and everything was so chaotic and dangerous... did you ever imagine it would lead to this?"

I considered the question seriously. "You mean to dating multiple individuals while living in a penthouse and preparing for international espionage missions?"

She laughed, the sound bright and genuine. "When you put it like that, it does sound pretty ridiculous."

"I didn't imagine any of this," I admitted. "I was just trying to survive from one day to the next. But..."

"But?"

"I'm glad it led here," I said, looking at her directly. "I'm glad it led to you."

The conversation shifted after that, becoming more personal and intimate. She told me about her family, about growing up in a household where physical strength was valued but emotional vulnerability was seen as weakness. I shared some of the loneliness I had felt before meeting all of them, the way my lack of a proper job and skills had often made me feel isolated from normal human connection.

"You know," she said as the afternoon light began to slant through the skylight above us, "there's something I've been wanting to tell you."

"What's that?"

She was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke, there was a teasing note in her voice that I hadn't expected. "Out of all of us, you've gone the furthest with me."

I felt heat rise in my cheeks as I remembered exactly what she was referring to. "Sienna..."

"I'm not complaining," she said quickly, though she was clearly enjoying my embarrassment. "Just pointing out that I have certain... advantages in this competition that the others don't know about."

"That's not fair," I protested weakly.

"All's fair in love and war," she said with mock seriousness. "Besides, it's not like I planned it that way. You're the one who couldn't keep your hands to yourself."

"If I remember correctly, you were equally participatory in that situation."

"True," she conceded with a grin. "But I'm not the one turning red right now."

As the afternoon wound toward evening, we made our way back toward the entrance where we had started. The complex had taken on a different character in the softer light, more romantic and intimate than the bustling marketplace it had been during the day.

"This was perfect," Sienna said as we reached the spot where she had first helped me all those years ago. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"Thank you for winning that game of rock, paper, scissors," I said.

"Lucky me!"

We stood there for a moment, looking at each other in the golden light filtering through the glass ceiling. The noise of the mall faded into background ambiance, leaving just the two of us in a bubble of perfect stillness.

She stepped closer, reaching up to place her hands on my chest, and I could feel my heart rate accelerating in response to her proximity.

"Reynard," she said softly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to kiss you now," she said, and there was no question in her voice, just gentle certainty.

"I was hoping you would," I managed to say before her lips met mine.

The kiss was soft and sweet at first, tentative in the way that first kisses often are even when they're technically second or third kisses. But it deepened quickly, becoming something more confident and assured. She tasted like the vanilla latte she'd been drinking and something that was uniquely her, warm and comforting and perfect.

When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing a little harder than we had been moments before.

"That'll have to do for now," she said with a mischievous smile that suggested she was already planning our next encounter.

"For now?" I repeated.

"Well," she said, linking her arm through mine as we headed toward the exit, "we do have to get home eventually. And I suppose the others are expecting their turns."

"Right," I said, though part of me wanted to suggest we could just stay here forever.

"But Reynard?" she said as we stepped out into the evening air.

"Yeah?"

"I'm looking forward to when it's not just 'for now.'"

The promise in her voice made the walk home feel both too short and infinitely long, filled with anticipation for futures that seemed both impossible and inevitable.