It was lunch time.
The cafeteria buzzed like a hive of starving bees.
Students jostled in line, trays stacked with steaming dishes, breads, and the occasional glowing mana stew.
In a world where magic was everything, it was somewhat comforting to know that cafeteria food still managed to taste good.
Reed didn't care though.
His head lay gently on Cynthia's shoulder, his sandwich halfway eaten, lips chewing with the slow, dramatic flair of a man enduring the weight of the world.
"I'm tired," Reed mumbled, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
Cynthia flinched, nearly dropping her spoon. Her face turned crimson, her mind short-circuiting.
"T-Tired? Why? Did something happen?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.
Her spoon found her mouth, but her brain was still lagging ten steps behind.
Reed blinked up at her lazily. "I trained too hard. My arms feel like noodles. Also, I might've pulled something when Elira and I sparred earlier."
Cynthia froze.
"Elira?" she echoed, her voice clipped.
"Yeah," Reed said nonchalantly, munching his sandwich. "Blonde ponytail, red hairpin, looks like a noble but fights like a beast? She's surprisingly strong."
Cynthia's grip on her spoon tightened. She kept a placid smile on her face, but her thoughts were running marathons in the realm of rage.
'Why is he talking about her? Did he enjoy sparring with her that much? What did she do, twirl her ponytail and bat her eyelashes while slicing dummies in half?'
Reed chuckled and lifted his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "She nearly smacked me in the face with that wooden sword of hers. Dodged it barely. Then she laughed like it was nothing. She's kinda funny."
Cynthia's spoon snapped in half.
"Oh," she said sweetly, setting the mangled remains of her utensil on her tray. "Funny. That's... great."
Reed narrowed his eyes slightly. "You okay?"
"Peachy."
He leaned closer again, his head hovering just near her shoulder. "Your face is red again."
She swatted his forehead lightly. "That's your fault, you dummy."
"Hehe," he grinned. "You're cute when you're mad."
Cynthia immediately turned to stone.
Her whole face now resembled a ripe tomato — she was hot, red, and about to explode.
She turned away quickly, pressing her fingers to her cheek like that would somehow cool her down.
It didn't.
Reed simply chuckled to himself, satisfied with the damage he'd caused. That was until —
CLACK.
A plate landed on the table like a sword being drawn. Cynthia's head snapped toward the source of the sound, as did Reed's.
Standing before them was Elira, arms crossed, her usual stoic look replaced with something... smug?
"Can I join you here, Reed?" she asked with all the poise of a queen, her eyes not even acknowledging Cynthia's existence.
Cynthia blinked.
Reed blinked.
Elira sat down before either of them could even respond.
Cynthia twitched.
"Oh," Elira said, cocking her head to the side innocently, "was this seat taken?"
"No," Reed said slowly. "It's fine."
Cynthia smiled. It was the kind of smile that hid fifty daggers and an explosive spell.
"Of course, it's fine," she said. "Why wouldn't it be? It's a public table, right? Anyone can sit wherever they like."
Elira finally looked at her. "Ah, you're... Cindy?"
"Cynthia."
"Right. That."
There was a pause. The tension was thicker than pudding.
"So, Reed," Elira said, flipping her hair over her shoulder and leaning on one hand, "you were amazing earlier. Your form's rough, but you have good instincts. I could help you refine it, if you want, after school."
"Oh really?" Cynthia said, voice dangerously high. "That's so generous of you."
Reed chuckled nervously, sensing the building storm.
"Thanks, Elira," he said. "I could use some pointers. You're really good with the sword."
Cynthia's eye twitched.
"Wow, Reed. Complimenting her so openly. I don't think I've ever heard you praise me like that."
"I've praised you!" Reed protested. "Just... not about swords. You're not in weapon class."
"Well maybe I should be," Cynthia snapped. "So I can 'spar' with you too."
Elira smirked. "Not everyone can keep up with Reed. His endurance is impressive."
Reed nearly choked on his sandwich.
Cynthia's face turned purple.
'What did she mean by that?!'
"Anyway," Elira continued casually, pulling out a cloth to clean her fork, "I really want to keep training...."
Cynthia slammed her palms on the table, finally breaking her character. "You know what? That's great! I hope your 'training' goes well. I'm sure he'll learn so much from you."
Elira blinked, unfazed. "Thank you. He's a fast learner."
Reed stared at the table, trying his best not to laugh.
This was hilarious.
The tension, the rivalry, the drama — he didn't even have to do much and here were two girls getting ready to stab each other with spoons over him.
He checked their stats and internally whistled.
Cynthia was clearly mad... but also clearly in love. Her affection was at 74 now.
And Elira? She was getting there.
"Anyway," Elira said, wiping her mouth with the same grace as a noble lady at a banquet, "I'm done. I'll see you later, Reed."
She stood up and gave Cynthia one last parting smile.
"Cynthia."
"Elira."
Once Elira walked away, Cynthia let out a sound that could only be described as an angry tea kettle.
"Unbelievable," she muttered. "What's her deal?"
Reed leaned back against her shoulder again. "Jealous?"
"N-No!"
"You're totally jealous."
"I am not jealous of some blonde-haired noble girl with thighs that could crush a watermelon."
"...So you are jealous."
Cynthia puffed her cheeks. "I don't like how she was looking at you. Like she was... planning something."
"She probably was," Reed said. "Maybe she wants to sneak into my room tonight and — OW!"
Cynthia had jabbed him with her elbow.
"You're not funny."
"I thought I was hilarious."
"You thought wrong."
Reed laughed and stole a fry off her plate. She let him.
Just then, a small screen popped up.
[Debauchery Points +10: Casual Flirtation]
[Debauchery Points +5: Physical Contact - Shoulder Rest]
[Debauchery Points +10: Jealousy Triggered (Cynthia)]
Reed smiled smugly.
'Free points, huh?'
Cynthia raised an eyebrow. "Why are you smiling like that?"
"No reason."
He leaned on her again, letting out a long sigh of fake exhaustion.
"You know," he said, "Even if I met the most beautiful girls in the world, you're most special to me."
Cynthia's heart did a backflip as her face reddened.
"You're just saying that because I let you rest on me."
"Maybe. But it's still true."