I stand on the platform, eyes narrowed, facing Caspian. His stance is relaxed, but I can see the coiled energy beneath the surface, ready to strike. The soft hum of the arena lights is the only sound that punctuates the tense silence.
I let out a sigh, the weight of my earlier choices hitting me. This is going to hurt. Tsk, I should've taken a break before contacting him. There will be a big fight between the student council and Kuza soon.
Caspian's grin is nothing short of mischievous, his eyes glittering with the thrill of the upcoming fight. "Let's see just how good you are for Raelle to brag about you." He stretches out his limbs, each motion fluid and controlled. "We're going to use only skill, so it's fair."
Great. Just fucking great. I mirror his stretches, my muscles groaning in protest. Sigh, this is going to hurt, but I need to get beaten if I want to improve. It's either this or Isadora beating my ass.
Without warning, Caspian lunges at me. His punch is swift, aimed straight for my head. I barely duck in time, feeling the wind rush over my head. His movements are sharp and precise, a testament to years of honed skill.
"Shit," I mutter, deflecting another punch and landing one of my own. It's clear that in raw power, Caspian has the upper hand. But I've got tricks up my sleeve too.
Our punches and kicks create a rhythmic dance, a lethal ballet of sorts. With each move, I can feel the force behind Caspian's strikes. Tsk, I'm nowhere near his strength, thank god I'm over-geared.
"Damn, Raelle sure knows how to pick them," Caspian chuckles, even as he throws a roundhouse kick my way.
I dodge, gritting my teeth. "Speaking of Raelle, she's lacking as a leader, isn't she? She's too nice, she lacks leadership skills. No wonder the council's a mess."
Caspian's face hardens for a moment, but then he smirks. "Are you trying to distract me, or do you genuinely care?"
"Bit of both," I admit, launching a quick jab at his stomach, which he smoothly sidesteps.
"Seriously, though," I say, narrowly evading a hook from Caspian, "Raelle needs to step up her game. The student council is a mess, if she doesn't get shit together she'll be replaced."
Caspian parries one of my kicks and retorts, "Hahaha, you seem to be confused V. Raelle... she can be serious. She doesn't lack leadership skills, she lacks confidence."
I can't help but laugh at that, even as I block another of his strikes. "You can't be serious. Even if you're right, she shouldn't be begging people for support."
Caspian chuckles, launching a rapid flurry of punches that has me on the defensive. "You've got a point."
The momentary pause in our banter seems to unleash a new level of intensity from Caspian. He takes a deep breath and, with a burst of energy I didn't see coming, throws a powerful left hook my way.
There's no time to react. I'm sent flying off the platform, the world blurring around me before I skid to a painful stop on the ground. Shit, that hurt like a motherfucker.
"Why are you bringing it up?" Caspian asks, looming above me. His voice is cold and mocking. "You don't seem like the type to care."
Gritting my teeth, I push myself up. Tsk, you think I have a choice. Damn you all, I'm trying to keep this damn school intact. Every muscle in my body protests, but I get back to my feet.
"I don't care," I reply, shaking off the lingering pain. "However, if she wants to keep the council under control, she needs to be more vigilant."
Caspian's lips curl into a sly smile, and he starts throwing punches again. His strikes are swift, like a fucking tempest of fists and feet. I manage to defend myself, but only just. Each blow, even if blocked, reverberates through my body.
"Oh~ It seems like you care, huh~" Caspian teases, landing a light jab on my shoulder.
I manage to grab his arm, redirecting the attack and using his momentum against him. "Your technique is great," I say, breathing hard, "but your balance is a bit of a mess."
He raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. But I can't go on. Fatigue washes over me, my limbs growing heavy. Fuck, I'm too tired. I can't take this man any longer.
I step back, tapping my watch, accessing the messaging feature. I quickly type a message and send it to Caspian.
[Both the Aira and Liam are going to attempt to take over the Council. Try to up your defense.]
He glances at his watch, reading the message. His smirk fades instantly, replaced with a look of genuine concern.
Exiting the arena, the familiar sight of Lysandra sprawled out on the ground greets me, her snores loud enough to rival a chainsaw. You'd think someone had just executed a powerful knockout move on her, but no, that's just her way of taking a nap.
I sigh and heave her up like a sack of flour. No need to wake her up; she'll keep bothering me for food if I do. With Lysandra slung over my shoulder, I trudge to the cafeteria.
Inside, I find Biana, sprawled out on one of the long tables, clutching her pillow like it's the last piece of comfort in this damn school. Figures she'd be here. If Lysandra is the food demon, Biana's the sleep one.
I drop Lysandra next to her, making sure she's somewhat comfortable. Then, with a smirk, I flick Biana's forehead.
She groans, shifting in her sleep, then cracks one eye open. "Mmm... Why the fuck you gotta wake me up, V?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Yo, why are you here so early?"
She yawns, stretching her limbs and cuddling her pillow even closer. "Walked in... hungry... then sleep..." she mutters, the words slurred with sleepiness. "Tsk, dickhead, why'd you wake me? Was having a good dream."
I snort. She's been out for five hours in here? "So, you walked to the cafeteria, and instead of eating, you decided to nap? Brilliant. And you call me the moron."
Ignoring her muttered curses, I make my way to the kitchen. If Lysandra's nap was any hint, she'd be waking up famished, and if I'm honest, I could use a bite myself.
Standing in the kitchen, surrounded by the myriad of ingredients laid out, I rub my chin, trying to decide what to make. Hmmm. I need something that'll hit the spot, especially after that sparring session. My gaze falls on some fresh produce and cuts of meat. Perfect.
Oh, but there's another problem. My hungry, nap-loving companion. I'll need to make Lysandra's serving... No, 30 servings. It's just how she rolls.
Grinning to myself, I decide on stir-fry. It's quick, flavorful, and easy to scale up. I start by chopping up a medley of vegetables: bell peppers, carrots, broccoli, and snap peas. For the protein, I choose chicken, thinly slicing it for quick cooking. As the wok heats up, I marinate the chicken in a mix of soy sauce, garlic, ginger, and a touch of chili for that kick.
I hear the soft snores from Lysandra and Biana, punctuating the sizzling sounds from the wok. How can someone sleep so soundly in the midst of such heavenly aromas?
Once the chicken is perfectly seared, I throw in the veggies, letting them dance together in the wok. I add some noodles, more sauce, and keep stir-frying till everything melds together in a harmonious blend of flavors.
With a flourish, I serve the dish onto plates. One for Biana, one for me, one for Isadora, and a tray (yes, a whole damn tray) for Lysandra. The extra-extra-extra-large portion for the food beast.
Making my way back, I spot a predictable face amidst the slumbering duo. Isadora. Her plain look somehow manages to pierce right through me, as usual. There's no trace of surprise or impatience on her face. How does she do that?
Grinning, I toss her a coconut.
She simply stares at me for a moment, then nods, holding the coconut as if contemplating its purpose in life.
Glancing over at Lysandra, who's still in a state of unconsciousness despite the enticing aroma of food, I know I have only one option to wake her up. Approaching her, I rear back and give her a good, hard smack. The sort of smack that would usually be reserved for a boxing ring.
She groans, her eyes fluttering open, but then that wicked grin – reminiscent of a kid who's just been told they're allowed candy before dinner – spreads across her face. Without uttering a word, she dives into her mountain of stir-fry, devouring it with an intensity that makes you wonder when she last ate. Given that it's Lysandra, probably about an hour ago.
Beside her, Biana watches with a mixture of disgust and awe. "What the hell is wrong with this... thing?" she seems to say, without voicing the words, her expression a perfect mix of side-eye and astonishment.
"Don't eat it too fast," I caution Lysandra, though I doubt she's even hearing me.
As everyone digs into their meals, Biana's actions border between eating and sleeping, each bite followed by a drowsy droop of her eyelids. Hell, she's practically half-asleep as she brings food to her mouth. I, on the other hand, relish each bite, taking in the flavors and spices. Isadora, always the mysterious one, sips coconut water and quietly eats, her plain face revealing nothing.
Hmmm. A confrontation is brewing, I can feel it. I smirk to myself. It won't be long now. But whatever happens, I'm keeping my nose out of it. Not my fight. Since Mason didn't interfere himself, there's no need for me to do anything.
Mid-thought, I see Biana's head dangerously dipping, mouth still full. With a grin, I slap her on the back. Biana chokes, sputtering, as she's jolted awake, scrambling to swallow her food without inhaling it.
"Hehehehe," I chuckle, thoroughly entertained by the scene.
As I start on my food, savoring the flavors I put so much effort into creating, the cafeteria door creaks open. I lift my gaze and, for a split second, the fork almost drops from my hand. What the hell is she doing here?
"Lyria," I mutter, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
Lyria strides into the cafeteria with the same grace that always seems to characterize her. She beams, her eyes scanning the scene before settling on me. "Do you mind if I join in?" she asks, her voice dripping with sweetness.
Internally rolling my eyes, I plaster on a calm smile. "Sure, sure~ What brings you here, Senior?"
Biana throws Lyria a lazy glance, clearly not impressed, and continues munching on her food, uninterested.
Lyria seats herself gracefully. "Well, since you're all my juniors, I thought I'd visit every group and see if they need any help." Her gaze falls on the pasta. Without waiting for a formal invitation, she reaches out to take some.
My smirk doesn't waver. "Go ahead and try it."
She takes a bite, and her eyes widen. The pasta must've blown her mind. Tsk, typical response. What, do these high-and-mighty nobles just nibble on salads or some shit all day?
"Wow, this is amazing," she coos.
I lean back in my seat, maintaining eye contact. "Thank you for your good intentions, Senior, but we don't really need any help."
She tilts her head, a shadow of disappointment flashing in her eyes. "Come on, I'm sure you can learn something."
A wicked idea forms in my head. I turn to Isadora, who's been silent throughout the interaction. "How about it? You want to spar with her?"
Lyria's eyes widen just a fraction, clearly taken aback. Hehe, even she's wary of going toe-to-toe with Isadora.
Isadora remains unfazed, taking a moment before her neutral expression shifts to a slight, amused smirk. She sets down her fork and stretches her fingers.