I don't own Tales of Symphonia.

"'Kay, Zelos, we're heading out now," Lloyd paused at the door. "Are you sure about not going? It'll only be you and Presea until we get back and that might take a while."

"If you hadn't lost your pack in the desert, we wouldn't have to go out there!" Genis snapped crossly. "It's the middle of the afternoon and we don't even have any restorative items now, thanks to you!"

"But Geee-eenisss, it was really heavy and I only put it down for a minute!" Lloyd protested.

"Which was more than long enough for those bandits to snatch it and get away!" Sheena crossed her arms and glared at Lloyd. "We might not even catch them! They could be anywhere!"

"Guys, guys, it's fine!" Zelos waved his hands in a pacifying gesture and moved from his perch on the bed to hook an arm around Presea's shoulders. "While you guys are out getting fried in the desert, I'll be here getting some alone time with my cute 'lil Presea! Right?" The girl in question was staring at Zelos' arm like it was a particularly annoying monster that she was debating on killing.

"Alright then, if you're sure..." The group exited the inn room slowly, Lloyd's protests of innocence fading as the door closed. Zelos grinned. Now that was more like it! Some peace and quiet, where he could relax and flirt with Presea all day long without Genis trying to kill him. Actually...it was too quiet. Zelos looked down at Presea. She had apparently decided not to whack off his arm and was staring blankly ahead. Zelos retracted his arm slowly and scooted away a little.

"So..." Presea looked up at him, expectantly waiting for him to speak. Zelos rubbed the back of his head nervously. They sat in silence for a while, Zelos fidgeting with Presea waiting patiently for him to talk.

"So...want to play Rock-Paper-Scissors?" Presea looked at him blankly. "Y'know, Rock-Paper-Scissors?" He held a fist to demonstrate. Presea kept staring. "You're kidding me, right?"

"No. I do not know what this 'Rock-Paper-Scissors' is," Presea replied calmly.

"Well...I'll teach you!" Zelos grinned. "Okay, first, you've gotta know the basics. Rock, paper, scissors." Zelos demonstrated with his hand, showing Presea each of the three slowly. "Got that? So, rock beats scissors, scissors beats paper and paper beats rock, okay?" Presea nodded. "Great, so let's try!"

"Rock, paper, scissors!" Zelos held out two fingers. "Gah!"

Zelos pressed his hands to his bleeding nose. "Wha-what did you punch me for?!"

"You chose scissors, so I chose rock." She held up a fist. "This is rock, is it not?"

"Yeah, but you're just supposed to hold out your hand! You're not supposed to hit them with it!" Zelos touched his nose gently, checking for a break. It seemed fine, so he cautiously took his hands from his nose and held out a fist again. "Okay, Presea. Let's try this again. Don't punch me this time, okay?" She nodded.

"Rock, paper, scissors!" Zelos held out a fist this time. "Ow!"

Zelos' hands flew up to cover his stinging forehead, which Presea had just karate-chopped. "Geez, what was that?!"

"I chose paper to counter your rock, so I have won this round," She held up a straight hand to demonstrate.

"Okay, I admit that I can't argue with your logic, but stop hitting me! That's not how you play the game!"

"Oh, alright. I will not hit you anymore, Zelos. Let us continue." She held out a fist.

"Rock, paper, scissors!" Zelos held out a straight hand, hoping that Presea meant what she said.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

The door to their in room slammed into the wall as Lloyd and others ran in. Lloyd ran over to Zelos, who was rolling around on the ground while clutching his eyes in agony.

"Zelos! Are you okay?! What happened?!" Lloyd crouched over the idiot Chosen, while Genis ran over to Presea, who was sitting quite calmly on the bed.

"Presea! What happened here? We heard Zelos screaming all the way in the bazaar!"

Presea calmly held up two fingers. "Scissors beat paper."

The moral of this story is: Never challenge Presea to a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors.