It all started with pride. Lorenz and Sylvain, two nobles of their respective lands, couldn't stand each other philandering all the women in the Monastery. In each of their eyes, the other was inferior to their own charm and natural beauty. While Lorenz was more of a cool and calculative type, Sylvain was laidback and outgoing. It could have been a beautiful friendship, what with two like-minded people having similar interests in battle as well as romance, but instead it was an oddly bitter rivalry, with a competitive nature that increased every time they saw each other.
Tonight, Sylvain tried his best to sweet-talk a haughty beauty from Black Eagles (noble hearts should beat synchronously, should they not?), but his advances weren't received well, or at all. Although Lorenz scoffed, made his way over to the same girl, and tried to put the moves on her in his own way, he failed in the exact same regard.
"I don't feel too slighted by this in the least," he reassured her. "But tell me. Is there something so devastating about me that you can't bear to spend a night in my company?"
"Other than your ego?" she joked. "Well, I'll admit, you did catch my fancy at first. You're not a bad man at all, Lorenz."
He was too happy to hear that. "So what blocks the way of this opportune moment-to-be? Surely you can see that—"
"I just don't know if I can be interested in someone that lacks the ability, of all things, to fish."
So that was how it came to be. Sylvain and Lorenz, two of the most insufferably noble, nobly insufferable, skirt-chasing students in the entire monastery—standing at the fish docks, of all places! Of course, it was later in the night, and the two of them were so caught up in the rivalry, they didn't mind the fact that they normally wouldn't take to such common hobbies.
But, they'd seen Professor Byleth and the other reputable students here a few times, so it couldn't be that bad, right?
"How many guppies must I fish until I can finally prove myself above your antics?" Lorenz sighed as he slumped over, rod at his side. He grew tired of fishing the same small things over and over again, and sat idly while Sylvain changed out the line, and threw his lure as far as it could go.
Sylvain had the same defeated nature, however, as he sat down grumpily at Lorenz's side. There was a moment of hesitance, though—outside of battle, close proximity to another person implied familiarity, camaraderie. The last thing either of them wanted was for the other students to get the wrong idea about them, but tonight was an exception.
The line bobbed, and Sylvain listlessly wrestled with it, until he reeled up something so sparkly clear, it seemed as if it were made of glass.
Lorenz looked from Sylvain to the fish, to Sylvain, to the fish, and back to Sylvain again. It was the first thing they caught that was worthwhile, and the only fish that might impress a lady (or anyone, really) in comparison to the small pile of herring next to them—that which was looking more and more like scattered petals, rather than the visible fruits of their labor.
The glass fish was a beauty, a prize.
Sylvain smiled as he dangled the catch. "Zero, Lorenz. Zero." And he threw the fish back into the pond.
