In the staff room, where teachers and lecturers gathered during their own recreational period, drinks, light snacks, and refreshments scattered across the tables amid casual, easy conversation, the combat instructor sipped slowly from a glass of something alcoholic.
His gaze wandered lazily across the various ranks of staff scattered throughout the room.
Samantha, the school nurse, strolled in wearing her crisp white coat, balancing a tray loaded with cans of juice, a pleasant smile lighting up her face as she made her way further inside.
One of the staff members noticed what she carried almost immediately. His expression shifted slightly as he took another slow sip from his own drink. "Let me guess, that’s the Powerade glucose beverage you always seem to bring around, isn’t it?"
"Exactly the kind that nourishes both mind and body, energizes the soul, and keeps you genuinely healthy. It’s packed with extraordinary carbohydrates that boost overall activity and even help keep your age looking younger than it really is." Samantha’s smile blossomed into a full, closed eyed beam of pride.
A few nearby staff members rolled their eyes at the enthusiastic pitch before returning their attention to their own meals.
With that, she turned and made her way toward where Olivia sat with a small group of others, Carlo included among them.
He glanced idly around the room throughout, sipping steadily from his own precious drink.
The combat instructor shot her a quick glance as she approached, quietly sliding his beer beneath the table so as not to come across as disapproving in front of her.
He had privately carried a certain fondness for the school nurse ever since arriving at the school, even though it had only been a handful of years so far that he harbored the feeling.
She struck him as genuinely impressive and appealing, and he had no interest in leaving her with anything less than a good impression of him.
"I’d actually like to try some of that. Feels like a decent way to start the day for someone in my position. I burn through a lot of energy and stamina daily, so honestly, just one can probably wouldn’t cut it. Maybe a full six litre package would do the trick," he said, genuine interest lighting his eyes as he studied the tray of drinks in her hands.
That particular comment drew a fair amount of attention from several nearby staff members, Samantha included.
In her experience, most people asking for a drink usually kept their request considerably more modest, but she wasn’t about to judge him for it, not given how physically demanding his role as combat instructor tended to be.
She nodded approvingly, extending the tray toward him. "Of course. Here, please, take as much as you’d like. It’s also known to boost nervous energy and overall stamina. Genuinely great for your health."
The combat instructor forced a polite smile as he gathered up three separate two litre bottles, setting them down across the table, taking up a considerable amount of space in the process.
Samantha lingered a moment longer before setting the tray down on a nearby surface. "Just in case anyone else changes their mind and wants some too, it’ll be right here."
She took the seat beside him, and he felt a quiet swell of pride at her choice to sit there.
Still, the faint medicinal scent clinging to her uniform, the same one that always followed her from the hospital wing, lingered in the air between them.
He found himself privately wishing, not for the first time, that she might show up someday in something a little different, gym wear, perhaps, or something with a bit more of a sharp, commanding edge to it like a hot military outfit.
"The students, especially the sophomores this year, are showing some genuinely impressive potential, honestly outpacing even a good portion of the upperclassmen," she remarked. "I have a feeling their side of the competition is going to be the most exciting to watch, plenty of surprises waiting in store, I’d guess."
"That’s good to hear. A lot of them have really stepped up during my own lessons too," the combat instructor said. "Honestly, they’re something else."
His comment drew her attention fully toward him, a small smile tugging at his lips when she asked, "Wait, really? I wish I could’ve been there to see it myself. That sounds like it would’ve been something worth watching."
"Yeah, anytime you want. I mean that."
The combat instructor turned his attention toward Olivia, who leaned back comfortably in her seat, the top row of buttons on her blouse left undone, offering a generous, unguarded view of her cleavage, apparently for the sake of comfort and ventilation more than anything else.
She had never carried much insecurity about her own appearance, regardless of whatever opinions others around her might privately hold.
Most of the staff had long since grown accustomed to it, hardly registering it as anything unusual by now.
A few quietly appreciated the view whenever it happened to present itself, though plenty of the more reserved women on staff still found the habit a touch inappropriate for a shared, professional space.
"As homeroom teacher, who do you think ends up coming out on top once the competition wraps up?" the combat instructor asked, resting his chin thoughtfully against one fist.
Olivia considered the question carefully for a moment before answering. "I’d say Kai Drakon, Mia Brookson, and Hermione Phoenix. That last one’s proven herself plenty capable in her own right, not just riding on her family’s name, but through genuine talent and hard earned prestige."
"Same read from me. I’ve watched all three of them perform firsthand," the combat instructor agreed, prompting Samantha to glance curiously toward him.
"Oh?"
That single word was enough to draw several heads toward Carlo, seated quietly just beside Olivia.
He wore an expression somewhere between skeptical and quietly confident, legs crossed comfortably as he continued sipping his drink at an unhurried pace.
The combat instructor raised an eyebrow. "What exactly made you say that?"
A faint smile touched Carlo’s lips as he took another slow sip.
"Oh, you know how it goes. In a competition like this, you really shouldn’t be so quick to underestimate any of your students. As a teacher, understanding a student’s true potential is supposed to be one of your core responsibilities, more than anyone else’s, really."
He took another unhurried sip.
"And what exactly makes you say that?" the combat instructor pressed again.
Samantha, Olivia, and a handful of others leaned in slightly, curious to hear whatever weight sat behind his answer.
Carlo’s calm, unbothered demeanor had started to feel a little too deliberate, almost as though he were sitting on knowledge he had no intention of fully sharing just yet.
"Because somewhere in that group, there’s bound to be an underdog. Or maybe just a quiet achiever nobody’s really paying attention to yet."
Carlo’s gaze flicked briefly toward Olivia. She shifted slightly under the weight of it, despite her earlier claim of carrying no real insecurities.
"Honestly, I’d bet money there’s a dark horse somewhere in this year’s batch. Might as well take that bet straight to the casino."
His smirk left a few of them assuming he was simply enjoying the sound of his own voice.
And yet something about his confidence sat a little too settled, a little too certain, to read as idle speculation. He didn’t sound like someone guessing at random.
He sounded reassuringly sure of himself, almost like someone who had already caught a glimpse of exactly how things were going to unfold.
For a moment, no one said anything at all.
Olivia and the combat instructor traded uncertain glances, while Samantha and a few others remained openly skeptical.
Carlo, meanwhile, looked completely at ease, leaning back further in his seat, legs still crossed, taking another slow, casual sip from his glass before finally glancing down at its contents.
It turned out to be tea.
Somehow, that small, ordinary detail only made his strange, unwavering confidence feel even more unsettling than before.
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