Chapter Text
Garreg Mach High School's cafeteria was filled with students, all arranged in their normal seats for a Wednesday. Claude was whispering to a select few about the fake rat in his bag that he planned to place under Edelgard's desk in sixth period. Edelgard was, again, ranting about socialism to Hubert, Monica, and Ferdinand. Caspar and Felix were locked in an aggressive match of rock-paper-scissors as Lindhart looked on, stifling his laughter.
At a round table near a large window sat a group who had lovingly proclaimed themselves "The Whores". They vented to each other about their love lives and bragged about when things went right. Today, however, they were arguing.
"No woman can resist a gentleman!" Lorenz beamed, "Obviously, if my search were not currently limited to my future spouses, I would have the most people fawning."
Yuri laughed. "You know what they can resist? Your face. As for me, I'm so sexy that people are tripping over themselves for me."
"If we're talking about sexy, I'm the one everyone has their eyes on," Sylvain flexed his right bicep, "You may have the pretty face and charm, but I've got both and enough muscle to keep a lady safe."
"Keeping a lady safe? Yeah right!" Dorothea snickered, "I'm the one who came to your house last night to console you after you got rejected."
"It was a bad breakup, and she was the one who cheated on me this time!"
"So that's why you immediately suggested making out when I got there. You were just so heartbroken, weren't you?"
"It's no-"
"You're all missing the point," Hilda interrupted, "Dorothea and I definitely pull the most. Did you not see the people lining up to ask us to the winter formal last year?"
"Just because you have tits doesn't mean you're automatically more attractive," Sylvain grumbled.
"What did you say?" Hilda furrowed her eyebrows, "Hm? Speak up, coward!"
"Hilda, Sylvain, calm yourselves! This is disgraceful!"
Yuri stayed eerily silent as the rest of the group's voices blended together. He stole a glance towards Balthus two tables over. Gears in his head began to turn and click.
"Stop it," Yuri slammed his fist on the table, loud enough to stop the arguing, but quiet enough so that it didn't alert the lunch monitor, "I know how we can solve this."
The others stared at him. He took it in, making a show of his proposal. He pulled a coin from his pocket, "Recently, I've found myself to be a betting man. I'd say all of us would be considered lucky when it comes to love, yes?"
"Depends on your definition of the word 'lucky'." Sylvain joked.
"I'd say that we all are. So, I'd like to make a wager to settle this. Each of us will get one month - starting today - to get as many people to fall in love with us as possible."
"Yuri," Lorenz frowned, "That idea is appalling. Leading people on like that is simply disrespectful!"
Yuri wagged his finger, "Uh uh, I'm not done. I have something that will sweeten the deal for all of us."
"Ughhh, just tell us already! The suspense is killing me!" Hilda whined.
"I was getting to that. The winner will get 1,000 G each from the pockets of the other participants."
Dorothea gasped,"4,000 G total?"
Yuri nodded.
Lorenz's moral dilemma was visible on his face. "Again, that is quite reprehensible. However, my allowance has been cut because of that damned biology exam…"
"And the rest of you?"
Hilda and Dorothea both nodded.
"Don't have to ask me twice," Sylvain turned to Dorothea, "Hey baby~"
"Hold on," Yuri grabbed Sylvain's wrist, "Every bet of this caliber needs a few stipulations."
"Oh, but rules are no fun!" Hilda put on her pouty face, "Can't we just-?"
"Do you want the 4,000 G or not?"
Hilda stammered, but couldn't find the words to make an adequate comeback.
"For starters," Yuri pointed at Dorothea and Sylvain, "Each other doesn't count."
"And what does that mean?" Sylvain raised an eyebrow.
"If you two end up dating or whatever it can't count towards your total. That goes for the rest of us too."
Sylvain and Dorothea begrudgingly agreed.
"Next, the person needs to admit that they love you. You can't just have hookups with every person who looks at you and count it. They have to fall in love with you, or at least say that they have."
Hilda raised her hand, "Let's say, in theory, two of us were going after the same person. If they fell in love with both of us, who would it count for?"
"Hm," Yuri thought for a minute, "I think it would count for both of you, as long as the person admits they love you. Can everyone agree to that?"
The others nodded.
"One more thing, any relationship we have between the start of the bet and the end will count towards the total," Yuri smirked.
Everyone nodded once more.
"If that's all, let's all put in some of the pot. Just to make sure none of you decide to back out." Yuri placed 100 G on the table.
"Who's to say you won't simply run away with it?" Lorenz scowled.
"Hey, I am honest when it comes to bets. Plus, I don't particularly want to steal a measly 400 G."
The others hesitantly took the necessary gold out of their pockets and onto the table. Yuri swept the pot towards him, putting it in a pocket on the inside of his jacket. "The bet starts now!" he stood up, "May the odds be ever in your favor."
The group's eyes stayed on Yuri as he walked two tables over, sat on Balthus's lap, and passionately kissed him. Afterwards, they said something to each other, and only Hilda could read lips well enough to know that they both said "I love you."
Yuri walked back over to the table, "Yuri, one. Everyone else, zero."
Dorothea frowned, rising from her seat, "Two can play at that ga-"
Dorothea was interrupted by the teacher monitoring the cafeteria, Ms. Eisner, putting her hand on Yuri's shoulder. "Mister LeClerc, you know we frown upon public displays of affection to that degree here."
"We do?" Yuri attempted to look innocent.
"I may be new, but I'm not stupid," Byleth grabbed his wrist, "And you also know that you must speak with Vice Headmaster Seteth for your third major referral."
Yuri grimaced, "Fine, whatever you say." He stood up again, this time, sadly marching to his first scolding session of the semester.