While I was walking ahead in perfect, blissful ignorance—already awarding myself imaginary medals for outstanding conflict resolution—the two of them came to a deeply questionable conclusion that, actually, physical violence was very much required.

Behind me, Gawain and Mikael launched into what could only be described as a battle in spirit... because in execution, it was an absolute disaster.

It started with Gawain attempting a dramatic first strike—

something fast, something impressive, or something worthy of legend.

Unfortunately, he misjudged the distance between himself and Mikael, clipped his own foot mid-step, and stumbled forward with all the grace of a collapsing bookshelf.

Mikael sidestepped purely on instinct, not because he saw the attack coming, but because Gawain ended up grabbing onto his sleeve to avoid eating the ground.

For a brief, deeply confusing moment, they looked less like enemies and more like dance partners who had forgotten the choreography, staring at each other.

"...Let go," Mikael said under his breath.

"You let go," Gawain snapped back, equally quiet, as if whispering made this any less embarrassing.

"I wasn’t the one who tripped."

"I didn’t trip. The floor attacked me."

Mikael blinked at him. "The floor."

"Yes."

There was a beat of silence where even the universe seemed to reconsider its choices.

Mikael, deciding this conversation had already cost him enough dignity, tried to retaliate with a swift counter.

His hand came up, precise, controlled, and would have looked impressive if his cuff hadn’t immediately snagged on one of Gawain’s unnecessary accessories.

There was a sharp tug as they both looked down, staring at the entangled mess between them like it had personally betrayed them.

"Don’t move," Mikael muttered under his breath.

"You’re the one who moved," Gawain shot back, equally quiet but ten times more dramatic.

"I was attacking."

"That was an attack? I thought you were adjusting your sleeve."

Mikael’s eye twitched.

Their glaring match lasted all of two seconds before they both tried to pull away at the same time—

Rrrrip.

It resulted in an undignified ripping of fabric as something gave way.

Neither of them acknowledged what had just been sacrificed to the gods of poor decisions.

Round two began with significantly less dignity.

Gawain, now mildly disheveled but emotionally committed, lunged again.

This time with more caution and slightly better aim. Unfortunately, his foot accidentally connected with something small on the floor, sending it skidding directly into Mikael’s path.

Said object slid directly under Mikael’s foot.

Mikael who stepped on it, slightly wobbled but not enough to fall.

No.

He refused to fall.

But enough that he had to grab the nearest thing to stabilize himself.

That nearest thing was Gawain. He had no choice but to grab his shoulder for support.

Once again, they ended up far too close for two people supposedly trying to destroy each other.

"...You’re heavy," Mikael said flatly.

"You grabbed me!" Gawain hissed back.

"I had no choice!"

"You always have a choice!"

"And you always make the wrong one!"

At this point, their "battle" had devolved into aggressive whispering, awkward grappling, and a series of increasingly embarrassing near-accidents.

If anyone had been watching, they wouldn’t have seen rivals clashing in a fierce showdown.

They would have seen two idiots trying—and failing spectacularly—to look cool.

They separated again, this time successfully, both taking a step back like they needed distance not just physically, but emotionally.

For a few seconds, nothing happened.

Then—finally—something shifted.

The air changed.

It wasn’t dramatic in the obvious sense—no sudden gust of wind, no ominous sound cue—but something subtle shifted, like the spotlight only centered to them.

The earlier clumsiness, the accidental grabbing, the mutual humiliation—it all vanished as if it had never existed. What replaced it was something sharper and dangerous.

Mikael moved first. No warning, no dramatic buildup.

One second his hand was empty, the next there was a dagger in it, pulled from beneath his not-yet-ruined sleeve, driving it forward, straight towards Gawain’s heart.

Gawain dodged like it was nothing. He pivoted out of the way with surprising ease, like he had expected it all along.

The blade missed him by inches—close enough to feel but not close enough to matter. In the same motion, his hand came up, karambit glinting as he slashed across Mikael’s arm.

Mikael pulled back instantly, more out of instinct than pain, his sleeve finally giving up its will to live as a thin line of red followed the arc of Gawain’s strike.

Silence dropped between them.

Not the awkward kind from earlier—the kind filled with tripping and excuses—but a still, heavy silence that pressed down between them.

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them spoke.

They just stared at each other.

And then, almost at the exact same moment—

They smiled.

The kind of smile that meant ’yeah, we’re doing this for real now.’

Without a word, they moved again.

This time, there were no mistakes. No stumbling. No accidental collisions to ruin the moment. Every step was planned, every movement calculated.

The distance between them closed in an instant—Mikael went in first, dagger striking again, faster this time. Gawain met him head-on, twisting his body to deflect, his karambit slicing through the air in tight, controlled arcs.

Clink.

Clank.

Clink.

They didn’t waste their energy. Each movement were mirrored or countered like they were reading each other’s thoughts.

It was quiet—eerily quiet—save for the soft sounds of shifting feet and metal brushing metal.

Mikael stepped in, adjusted his angle mid-strike, aiming low this time but Gawain caught it, deflected, turning the angle just enough to avoid the hit, then stepped closer instead of away, forcing the distance tighter.

Mikael adjusted instantly, his free hand catching Gawain’s wrist before the karambit could fully swing.

For a split second, they were locked again—too close, faces inches apart.

But this time, there was no awkwardness.

Only their killing intent could be felt.

Gawain’s smile widened slightly but Mikael’s expression stayed calm, but he’s more colder and focused than before.

Then they broke apart again, just as fast.

The fight was building like something on the verge of snapping. One more move and it would’ve crossed the line from "contained" to "there’s no undoing this."

And just as it was about to—

"Nyang."

One word and they straightened almost at the exact same time, expressions resetting like nothing had happened.

Mikael adjusted what was left of his sleeve while Gawain casually flipped his karambit before tucking it away, like he hadn’t just been aiming for vital organs five seconds ago.

I peeked from behind Agatha and caught them both smiling at me.

"I didn’t even notice we were here already, My Lady," Gawain said smoothly, already stepping up beside Agatha like he’d been well-behaved this entire time. Then, without missing a beat, he picked me up as if that was the most natural thing in the world.

Agatha opened the door to the workroom, unfazed as ever, and we stepped inside.

I glanced back but Mikael only stood at the entrance.

"Mika," I called, gesturing for him to come in.

There was a brief pause before he finally stepped forward.

I slipped out of Gawain’s hold and walked straight toward one of the shelves, scanning for what I needed then lifted my paw, pointing at a specific item.

Mikael followed my gesture. "You want to give me this?" he asked, brows lifting slightly when he saw what I was pointing at.

Sitting there, glowing faintly, was a perfectly crafted Eurasian eagle-owl energy stone—rare, refined, and definitely not something you just gave away unless you had lost all sense of financial responsibility.

I shook my head immediately.

"Then...?" he prompted.

"M-Money..." I managed, a bit too quickly, gripping onto my dignity like it was hanging by a thread.

’Seriously. Why would I give it for free?’

He’s still my customer.

Yes, I had seen his request earlier on my StrataLink. Yes, I could’ve accepted it there like a normal, efficient person.

But no.

I chose not to.

Because handing it over personally?

That increased my chances.

Of what?

A tip.

A very important, very necessary, absolutely justified tip.

I looked at him expectantly, trying—failing—to look casual about it.

"Wait," he said, tilting his head slightly, like he’d just connected two very inconvenient dots. "So you own Crimson Snow Atelier? The one that’s famous for perfect energy stones... and for having a rude owner?"

I nodded proudly at the first part then immediately glared at him at the second.

Excuse me?

Rude?

Me?

I lifted my arm anyway, extending my OmniSync toward him like a professional, because despite the slander, business was still business.

He looked way too amused.

’That should’ve been my first warning.’

Mikael tapped on his OmniSync, completely unbothered, then reached forward and lightly tapped it against mine.

Ping.

My eyes lit up instantly as I checked the screen.

[500 IC received.]

I blinked then looked again.

[500 IC received.]

"..." I slowly lifted my head and glared at him.

"What?" he said innocently—too innocently—his smile not even trying to hide the fact that he knew exactly what he’d done.

I shoved my OmniSync closer to his face.

"Yeah, I already paid you the exact amount," he said, emphasizing the word like it was something to be proud of. "What’s the problem with that, Miss Blanca?"

My eye twitched.

This—

This unbelievably stingy owl of a man.

I should’ve just accepted the request online. At least then I wouldn’t have gotten my hopes up like some amateur. What was I thinking? Personal delivery equals tip? Who raised me to be this optimistic? 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

I should’ve tripled the price.

No, I should’ve made him bid for it like it was an auction item with emotional value.

I aggressively typed on my OmniSync and shoved it towards him.

"Then can you keep this a secret from Soren?"

He read it, and that smile of his? It got worse.

"He’s my employer, you know~" he said, dragging the last part out like he was enjoying every second of my suffering.

I stared at him.

Then I started typing again, faster this time, my toe beans stabbing the screen with unnecessary force.

"IF YOU CAN’T KEEP IT A SECRET THEN AT LEAST PAY ME MORE FOR THE ENERGY STONE!"

He didn’t even hesitate. "No."

"..."

I blinked. "...What?"

"I’m paying exactly what I paid for."

Silence.

The kind of silence that felt personal.

Slowly, very slowly, I turned my head toward Agatha and Gawain.

Then, without breaking eye contact with Mikael, I raised my paw and dragged it across my neck in the most obvious gesture imaginable.

’Eliminate him.’

Gawain’s eyes lit up just a little too eagerly while Agatha looked like she had already planned three different ways to do it.

"Really, Miss Blanca?" Mikael said, watching me like this was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all day.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

’Oh, I am absolutely getting that energy stone back.’

One way or another.

Legally... preferably.

But I’m flexible.