The sun had already started dipping toward the horizon by the time Jason dragged himself back home. His body ached in ways he hadn't thought possible. Every muscle screamed for rest, sweat still clinging to his skin even after the walk back from the gym. His shirt stuck to his back, and his arms felt like lead.
He fumbled for the door, pushed it open, and immediately froze.
The smell hit him first—an unmistakable aroma of sizzling onions, steaming rice, and fried fish drifting through the air. His exhaustion loosened into confusion, and then alarm shot through his veins.
"No… no, no, no," Jason muttered, throwing his bag to the floor as he rushed toward the kitchen.
There she was. Sophie. His little sister, standing on a stool, stirring a pot with all the confidence in the world, her hair tied back in a messy bun, her small hands gripping the wooden spoon like it was a weapon.
Jason's heart skipped a beat. He didn't know whether to scold her or hug her.
"Sophie!" His voice came out sharper than intended, and she nearly dropped the spoon. She turned around, her eyes wide but her lips tugging into a guilty smile.
"Big bro… you're back early."
"Early? Sophie, what are you doing? You could've burned yourself, or worse—" He rushed forward, gently taking the spoon from her hands. The steam from the pot brushed against his face. He shut the gas off with a quick twist.
Her smile faltered. "I just wanted to make lunch… you looked so tired when you left this morning. I thought maybe if I cooked, you'd be happy."
Jason sighed heavily, resting a hand on her head. His anger dissolved. She was trying—just trying to make him smile. That was Sophie's way.
"You scared me," Jason said softly. "But… I'm not mad. I just don't want you getting hurt."
Sophie grinned, her teeth flashing. "So… does that mean you're still going to eat what I made?"
Jason gave her a long look, then chuckled. "Well, I already smell it, so I guess I have no choice."
They moved into the dining room, the meal plated in mismatched dishes. Sophie had clearly put her heart into it, even folding napkins into awkward little triangles. Jason sat down, and before digging in, Sophie pulled something out from under the table.
Another drawing.
She slid it across to him shyly. "Made this while waiting for the rice to boil."
Jason carefully unfolded the sheet. It was a sketch of him lifting weights, sweat flying everywhere, but drawn in a heroic style—muscles exaggerated, a crown on his head, fire in the background. Next to him was Sophie, holding a book, wearing a cape, clearly painted as his sidekick.
Jason laughed until his sore ribs hurt. "Sophie, I don't look like this."
"Yes, you do! You're just blind." She grinned proudly.
He ruffled her hair, grinning. "Alright, alright. Guess you've got talent. Maybe you'll be an artist one day."
Sophie tilted her head. "Maybe. But… there's something else I really want."
Jason leaned back in his chair, curiosity on his face. "What is it? Clothes? A new doll? More of those chocolate bars you always steal from me?"
She shook her head seriously. "School."
Jason froze mid-bite.
Sophie's voice was steady. "I miss it. I miss learning. I miss seeing other kids. I don't want to just sit around drawing forever, Jason. I… I want to be something when I grow up."
His throat tightened. For all the jokes, all the laughter, this was the first time she had spoken about her true desires.
Jason placed his fork down slowly. Then, smiling, he reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "Sophie… you'll go back to school. I promise. I'll find a way, no matter what. You're too smart to waste that brain of yours."
Her eyes lit up. "Really? You mean it?"
Jason chuckled. "Of course. But…" He leaned back dramatically. "Be careful what you wish for. You know that means homework. Evil fractions. Equations that even demons fear."
Sophie made a disgusted face. "Ugh, not fractions. Why does math exist? I hate math!"
Jason burst out laughing. "Then we'll burn all the math books together. Deal?"
"Deal!" she said, giggling.
They dug into their food again, laughter floating across the tiny dining room. For a few moments, it felt like a real home. A place where nothing outside could hurt them.
But Sophie wasn't finished teasing. She narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "So, big bro… when are you going to get a girlfriend?"
Jason choked on his food. "W-what?"
"You heard me," she said, grinning mischievously. "Don't think I haven't noticed. You've been acting weird sometimes. All mysterious. Who is she? Hm? Is it that pretty lady at your workshop? The one with the curly hair?"
Jason groaned, covering his face. "Sophie…"
"What? I'm serious! You need someone, you know. You can't just train and work forever. You're gonna end up old and alone with no one but me to nag you."
Jason laughed, shaking his head. "You already nag me enough, squirt."
Still, her words dug into him. For a moment, Mariana's name danced on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to tell Sophie about her, about the strange feelings, the strange connection. But… she was too young. She wouldn't understand. He pushed it down and simply smiled instead.
"Don't worry about me," Jason said. "Just focus on school. That's all I need."
Sophie rolled her eyes but smiled anyway.
Then Jason's phone buzzed. The name on the screen made his heart drop—Victor.
The man who ran match-making in the Crimson Den tournament.
Jason's stomach knotted. He excused himself, stepping away from Sophie's curious gaze, and answered.
"Jason Tyler," Victor's voice came through, smooth but sharp. "Your second fight has been scheduled."
Jason swallowed hard. "When?"
"This Saturday. A bigger stage. The stakes are different this time. If you lose, there's no payout. Nothing. But if you win… the rewards will be substantial. Enough to set you and your sister straight for a while."
Jason closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. No payout if he lost. That was brutal. But Sophie's face, her words about school, her laughter—those were stronger than fear.
"I'll take it," Jason said firmly.
"Good. Don't disappoint." Click.
Jason lowered the phone slowly, forcing his breath to steady.
"Who was that?" Sophie's voice piped up from the dining room. She leaned against the wall, eyes suspicious.
Jason quickly slipped the phone into his pocket. "Uh… just a customer from the workshop. Nothing serious."
Sophie studied him for a second, then shrugged. "Okay."
Jason smiled faintly, but inside, his chest burned with the weight of his choice. For Sophie's sake, he would fight again.
And this time, losing wasn't an option.
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