"And that concludes homeroom," Instructor Do rattled down, monotonous and bored as ever. "Any questions? Thought so. See you on-"

"I have a question," Yixing cut him off with his hand raised.

It was the first time one of them had been fast or resilient enough to actually get a question in before the Instructor - who had already slung his bag over his shoulder - could leave. It wasn't that he seemed to be in a hurry to get anywhere or that the students made him uncomfortable - he'd just made it very clear, on multiple occasions, that he had absolutely zero interest in being their homeroom teacher. Which, honestly, was kind of rude and uncalled for in Chanyeol's books. Sure, he was probably not thrilled over having to oversee the third dorm, making him the only Instructor to do so. As far as Chanyeol was concerned, though, they hadn't given him a single reason to be so hostile - heck, they barely even encountered him in the dorm, since he lived on the first floor, usually returned late at night, only to leave before Chanyeol slouched into the kitchen. Most homeroom teachers seemed to bond with their classes in some way but with Instructor Do, it was all quick and curt exchange of the most necessary information before he left them to spend their time however.

Yixing, however, ignored the other's attitude with an expression of friendly, blissful obliviousness.

"Surely, you heard of the little mock battles that are going to take place on Friday," he began, unfazed by the fact that their Instructor refused to show any reaction at all, "so I was wondering whether you could give us some combat lessons?"

Instructor Do blinked. Once.

"Ask Instructor Park," he said, and that was it. Or that would be it, if Chanyeol had been the one asking. Yixing, however, acted like the rejection had never even taken place.

"You're a Major of the fourth armored division, right?" he added merrily. "We'd be honoured to learn from you."

Chanyeol stared at his homeroom teacher, taking in the new information. This man was a Major in the army? He sure seemed strict enough to act the part, but it was hard to imagine him having the passion. Or ambition. Especially with the unimpressed way he was currently looking at Yixing.

"My job is to teach combat tactics for second years and up," he clarified. "Not to teach kids on how to win little scruffles. Being a homeroom teacher does not make me a babysitter. Approach Instructor Park if you're so eager to receive additional training."

With that, he grabbed the books off his desk and left, not even gracing them with another look.

The door was closed with an infuriatingly soft click, and the seconds ticked by.

Of course Chanyeol was the first one to burst.

"What a jerk."

For once, no one seemed inclined to disagree with him - not even Jongdae, who looked bored as usual.

Even Luhan looked frustrated.

"Could have said that a little more nicely," he grumbled, slumping over his table. "It's not our fault he hates his job. Not like I'm surprised though. Did you really think he'd be up for it?"

Yixing's smile had grown smaller, and he bit his lips.

"It was worth a try? Honestly, I don't think he's a bad person."

"Could have fooled me," Chanyeol said, rolling his eyes as he zipped up his pencil bag. "Though I guess if that's what being a nice person full of loving interest looks like, Jongdae must be about to marry all of us."

The look on Jongdae's face was an interesting display of refined, utter disgust.

"I am not even going to humor that with a response," he began; but of course he wouldn't actually let it slide and take the jab. "But I can hardly fault Instructor Do for not being thrilled about having a class with you in it."

"Is that all you have?" Chanyeol asked, crossing his arms and ignoring the dull thud of Luhan's forehead meeting the table. "Wow, what a highly intellectual insult. It's like you're begging to be one upped-"

"I wonder why the Instructor doesn't like us very much," Jongin trailed off with a sigh, fingers running over the paper of his book.

"It's probably nothing personal," Yifan assured him.

"You think so?" Jongin asked, looking conflicted.

Chanyeol found it quite unfair that people were ignoring him at this rare display of Jongdae submitting (he had totally won this one, and that was a fact).

"It's alright," Yixing chimed in, back to wearing a placating smile. "We can do this on our own. Though it might not be my place to say this..."

The notion only had Jongin look even more dejected, and Chanyeol couldn't blame him. They were supposed to make up teams of five, which meant that one member of the third dorm would have to team up with someone else. Obviously, Chanyeol would have kicked Jongdae in a heartbeat, but Yixing had decided to step down almost immediately, assuring them that he'd team up with some nobles he was apparently friends with.

"Don't sweat it," Chanyeol said, suppressing the urge to say something along the lines of even though fighting alongside those pricks must . After all, he'd called them his acquaintances.

"We'll just team up next time," he said instead, and Yixing shot him a small, grateful smile.

"Indeed," Jongdae agreed, a hue of faux encouragement dusting his next words. "And if we manage to get rid of Park, the victory will be ours."

"Excuse me?" Chanyeol spluttered.

Luhan made a drawn out, suffering sound while Yixing had the audacity to look amused.

For a moment, Chanyeol expected Jongdae to expose the fact that he'd actually asked to teach him how to use a sword. Which meant that in turn, Chanyeol would not make it a secret that he was oh so desperate to master fire orbs - he hadn't planned on stooping so low, but if Jongdae did, so would he...

...but it never came.

"Consider yourself excused," was all Jongdae said with a gracious shrug, and Chanyeol gaped at him.

"You are," he began slowly, hands balled into fists on the table, "the most insufferable person I have ever met-"

"That's only cause you never looked into a mirror," Luhan cut them off, waving through the air with exasperation. "Yes, yes, we get it, can we please move on? Unless you two manage to find a way to bicker Huang and Co into submission, I suggest we use our sparse free time to get some actual training in. I am not skipping club for nothing, okay?"

Jongdae looked mildly scandalized over the brash tone, Chanyeol was very cautiously smug about it, Jongin and Yixing seemed eager to get started, and Yifan just looked tired. It didn't take a genius to see that their chances of transforming into a unified combat division within three days were slim.

Not like Chanyeol would let that stop him - even the tiniest opportunity of being able to tower over a noble was good enough to fuel his spirit.

The first thing Chanyeol did as soon as his training with Jongdae started was hitting the ground. It had happened before he knew it - one moment, he'd stood behind the gym building with his sword held in what was apparently a good starting stance, the next he saw dust flying as his met the ground.

"Ow," he groaned, glaring up at Jongdae, whose wooden sword came to a sudden halt before his face. "I wasn't even ready!"

Jongdae didn't even blink and despite the joined, intense training earlier, he didn't seem overly exhausted - much unlike Chanyeol himself. Even from his position on the ground, the golden rays of a soon to set sun made the other's eyes look like liquid amber, almost as if they were taunting him for getting distracted so early into their session.

"Then get ready," Jongdae retorted, not even irritated. "Don't waste my time."

He was taking a surprisingly serious, no-nonsense approach to this - Chanyeol had gone into this expecting to waste his time, if he was being honest. That they'd hiss at each other and that Chanyeol would let himself be tossed around until he got tired of the humiliation. So far, however, there was no satisfaction to be found in Jongdae's expression.

Chanyeol bit his lip and got back to his feet - a motion which Jongdae was eyeing with pursed lips, clearly unimpressed.

"What?" Chanyeol asked defensively, but Jongdae only lunged at him again. Though lunge might not be the most accurate term - the way Jongdae attacked him was nothing but graceful, movements small and energy-preserving, but with deadly precision. Chanyeol managed to deflect one attack, but the second already created an opening allowing Jongdae to shove him to the ground.

With a small grunt, Chanyeol steadied himself, ready to get up and try again, when Jongdae clicked his tongue.

"Stay."

Despite the demand coming out quietly, almost soft-spoken, Chanyeol froze on instinct. It angered him a little how he'd listened and obeyed so well, but before he could get vocal about it, Jongdae spoke up again.

"What is my next move?"

"What?"

"My next move," Jongdae repeated, calm and focused.

"How am I supposed to know?" Chanyeol asked dumbly, feeling fresh embarrassment burn on the tips of his ears.

Jongdae only lightly shook his head.

"There are not many options."

Only then did Chanyeol truly notice that Jongdae hadn't moved at all since he'd thrown Chanyeol down, frozen with his right arm outstretched.

"Uhm. Aiming to slice my head off?" he guessed, and while there was an annoyed twitch of the other's brows, it vanished as quickly as it had come.

"Then block," he said, still speaking as if Chanyeol was someone else entirely. Someone he didn't hate.

Chanyeol lifted his sword just as Jongdae dragged his sword to the air agonizingly slowly, until it met Chanyeol's blade with a soft click. Honestly, Chanyeol was amazed that his prediction had been right, but Jongdae's expression remained blank.

"You wouldn't be able to block at such an awkward angle. There's no strength behind it. One more time."

Chanyeol felt embarrassed, but it was the other's professional demeanour that made him get to his feet, biting back on any remark. The ice beneath them was thin, and a single wrong remark by Jongdae would have Chanyeol snap and leave, that much was obvious. It didn't come though, and so Chanyeol forced himself to get back into position, to let himself be shoved to the ground once more. Again, Jongdae gave him time to gain orientation, to take in the other's posture and attempt to predict his next move. This time, he was entirely wrong.

"The momentum wouldn't allow for that movement," was all that Jongdae said.

By the fifth time of Chanyeol hitting the ground, the swing came a little faster, and Chanyeol was able to block it, if only barely so.

"Just admit that you enjoy kicking me to the ground," he grumbled as he got back up.

Using his moment of distraction, Jongdae attacked, almost slapping the weapon out of his hand, and with a foot against his legs, he went down once more, reflexively holding his sword up to defend himself, but the slice came at a horizontal angle instead, stopping before his collarbone.

"No one could teach you to hold your ground against advanced scholars within three days," Jongdae explained patiently. Chanyeol pretended like he wasn't hurt in the least.

"But what you can do is learn how to recover from the inevitable fall," Jongdae continued, taking a step back to let him get back to his feet. "The key to winning a battle is a combination of observation and reflexes."

Chanyeol thought of the way Huang Zitao had scoffed at him, kicking him into the dust as he had reached for his sword. He still thought the other had been a jerk on purpose, making fun of Chanyeol when he wasn't even aware the battle was still going.

Still, that incident only prove Jongdae's point, so he had no choice but to get up and let Jongdae toss him to the ground again... and again.

It hurt, both his ego and body, and it took a nauseating amount of falls for Chanyeol to even begin getting the gist of it.

There are not many options, Jongdae had said. Chanyeol tried to focus on the other's movements, and as fluid and effortless as they were, he was starting to understand what that earlier statement had meant. It was hard to stay alert and watch the other's moves as he was gaining himself yet another bruise on his legs or arms as he hit the floor, but Chanyeol didn't stop trying. He wasn't even thinking about Jongdae anymore, wasn't consciously aware of the other's stupid, arrogant expression, or the way the sun reflected off his hair. This wasn't unlike sport, unlike playing a game, and Chanyeol might be an uncoordinated mess, but he was good at immersing himself in games.

It had long turned dark, forcing them to move just enough to be within the light of the orbal lamps, when Jongdae finally lowered his sword.

"You're getting unfocused," was all he said, and Chanyeol - who was a panting, sweaty mess with streaks of dust reaching from his fingertips up to his hairline - scoffed.

"Gee, I wonder why," he rasped out, shooting him a weak glare. "We can keep going-"

"Not if you want to function tomorrow," Jongdae cut him off, subtly stretching his back and neck. Chanyeol wanted to argue, but with the way every single muscle in his body was aching, he knew he shouldn't. He was already afraid his burning muscles would pull him down during their battle on Friday.

Chanyeol sat up with a faint groan, slowly balling his hand into a fist a couple times. His fingers were shaking and if he wasn't wearing gloves, he'd surely be sporting multiple blisters now.

When he saw a movement out of the corner of his vision, he actually flinched, but it was just Jongdae offering his hand.

Jongdae was offering his hand to him.

With a scoff, Chanyeol got to his feet.

"What, you think I can't get up on my own?"

It had come out more defensively than he'd intended, but before Jongdae could react, Chanyeol bowed.

It was curt and probably sloppy, but Chanyeol felt like it was the appropriate thing to do. This wasn't about social class, it was about proper combat etiquette. At least that's how he'd interpreted what he'd seen so far.

To his surprise, Jongdae bowed right back at him.

The spell seemed broken after that, with how quickly the other's voice dropped from patient and focused to an arrogant drawl.

"You should take a bath if you plan on moving anywhere tomorrow."

"Wow, thanks for the suggestion," Chanyeol snapped sarcastically as they began their walk back to the dorm. "Whatever would I do without a generous noble stepping down to share his wisdom? Unlike you, I'm actually used to physical work. I can handle myself just fine."

"Oh? I don't think I heard you correctly over the sound of your exhausted panting," Jongdae retorted, still putting up this infuriatingly blasé facade.

"Oh? Are your ears as weak as your arms?"

"Bold statement coming from someone who kept getting pushed over by those weak arms."

"You can brag about your fencing skills all day, but that won't make you any less slight and tiny."

"Being tall poses nothing but a handicap in life," Jongdae countered, but it came a tad too late. Chanyeol grinned.

"Hmhm. Keep telling yourself that, shortie. Maybe one day, you'll believe it."

Chanyeol could tell even in the light of the street lamps that nobody had ever dared calling the son of the Kims a shortie. It was both hilarious and immensely satisfying to watch the look of mild incredulousness on the other's face.

After that, Jongdae announced that he was tired of Chanyeol, and also that he didn't want to be seen with him, so he picked up the pace, leaving Chanyeol behind (who, admittedly, was in no condition to even try and catch up to him).

Glad over the much needed solitude, Chanyeol strolled down the street, slowing his steps down to enjoy the crisp night air. For some reason, the image of Jongdae bowing to him earlier wouldn't leave his mind though.

It had been more of a nod than anything, but Chanyeol was still weirded out.

Having the kid of the highest noble family in the country bow to him, a very lowly commoner, was weird.

Nobles were weird.

Jongdae was weird.
 

On the second day, after a fair amount of repeating the previous exercise, Jongdae taught him how to pick up a sword after getting disarmed. On the third and last day, he taught him nothing, but instead let Chanyeol try and not get to the stage of needing to get back to his feet in time. His success was mixed, at best, and by the time all the first years gathered on the field on a sunny Friday morning, he could still say that he'd never ever actually landed a hit on someone. Fighting Jongdae had been like battling a wall, and even if Chanyeol felt vaguely familiar with his style by now, that didn't mean he had even the slightest chance of outsmarting him.

Still, he felt prepared. As prepared as he could get at least.

Though his muscles were indeed aching with every move. It only made him go through his warm ups a little more aggressively.

"Chanyeol?"

With a questioning hum, he looked up to see his other dormmates gathered around Jongin. He was waving with something that he offered to a confused Chanyeol.

"Here."

It was a bracelet, clearly handmade. At first glance, Chanyeol thought it was made using very small, black orbs, but the polished, round stones felt nothing but smooth under his fingertips. They were strung on a thin, red strap of leather that was strung and knotted in a foreign-looking way.

"They're a traditional lucky charm," Jongin explained with a shy smile, showing off his own bracelet. Everyone had apparently received one, and while the stones remained the same, the leather strips were all of different colors - yellow for Luhan, a dark green for Jongdae, brown for Yifan, and Jongin's own one was violet. The last one in his hand was orange, and he was currently scurrying off to hand it over to Yixing, who was warming himself up among a group of nobles.

"Fraternizing with the enemy, I see how it is," Luhan joked, but Chanyeol was too busy taking in the beautiful piece of handiwork.

"I didn't know Jongin could do stuff like that. A lucky charm, huh?"

"It's kind of a big deal to highlanders," Yifan surprisingly spoke up, turning his wrist to watch the stones catch the sunlight. "They usually make matching jewelry for family members or very close friends. Though back in the day, they were also worn among warriors of the same tribe."

Chanyeol hummed, looking at the neat, intricate knots encasing the stones. It was almost too pretty to wear it, but since everyone else did - Jongdae included - Chanyeol put it around his left wrist just in time for instructor Park to gather them all with a sharp whistle.

He had every team determine a leader, before randomly assigning opponents.

It came to no one's surprise that most teams consisted either of nobles or commoners, hardly ever mixing it up. Chanyeol felt a little guilty over the pang of relief he felt upon realizing that their first opponent was a team of commoners. They faced each other in one on one battles, with the leaders deciding who would fight against whom. Surprisingly enough, Luhan turned out to be the perfect choice for a leader. He assigned them like a chess player moving pieces, and Chanyeol was half-way convinced that it was his thanks to his quick thinking that they won against the first team.
It sure wasn't thanks to him, at least. Chanyeol lost the first battle, and the one after that as well. None of his team members seemed mad at him, which was somewhat comforting. Though he could hear Jongdae's voice inside his head, telling him that disappointment could only grow where expectations were sowed... or something like that. For once, they were both too focused to verbally strangle each other though - Jongdae was observing the matches with rapt attention, no doubt analyzing their movements, while Chanyeol pretended to do the same.

He lost his third match as well, but this time, he at least put up a decent fight. Ironically enough, fighting nobles came easier to him than facing commoners. Even the scrawniest-looking noble had skills far exceeding Chanyeol's, but their movements tended to be similar to Jongdae's. And Chanyeol was starting to become familiar with the elements of traditional court fencing - though none of his opponents came close to matching Jongdae's fluidity, which both worked in Chanyeol's advantage and also made for attacks that caught him off guard entirely.

It was one of those moves that led to a sword just barely poking his chest, deciding his third battle.

Chanyeol was dejected for sure, especially considering that their team pulled through despite his constant failures. Sure, seeing Jongdae come out on top every single time was somewhat expected, but Jongin and Yifan weren't too bad either, and Luhan won at least every second battle.

Like that, they made it to the semi finale of their little tournament, which was already somewhat mind-blowing to Chanyeol, and the fact that they were up against Huang Zitao's team next made him nervous. When he realized that none other than Yixing was part of their team, as well, he was seriously doubting they even stood a chance. After all, he'd seen Yixing in action during their training sessions - the other had insisted that swords weren't his forte, but his moves suggested otherwise.

Zitao was smiling - grinning, really - and he seemed so eager and confident that Chanyeol would be envious if he wasn't busy scowling in distaste.

A tossed coin later, Zitao’s team had the advantage of choosing the first opponent - a short, slender brunette wearing a pony tail and a rather lively expression for a noble.

Luhan stood there with his arms crossed, tapping his fingers once. And twice.

"Chanyeol."

Being by far the weakest, Chanyeol had gotten used to going first, but considering how tiny this girl was compared to him, it didn't feel like a befitting match. Though to be fair, the only somewhat short person in their team was Jongdae, and he'd obviously go last.

He got into position, already seeing himself ending up in the dirt - he wasn't used to fighting girls, especially not tiny ones, and right now, he had to agree that his height felt more of a disadvantage than anything.

Just as expected, the girl was fast, though not nearly as fast as Jongdae. Her movements weren't that fluid either, but still hard to predict. Chanyeol was too busy blocking them to even consider trying to fight back. She kept attacking him, dealing out relentless, sharp blows that had the wooden swords meet with resounding cracks, slowly but surely driving him back - and then Chanyeol fell for a fake out. It happened too fast for regret to settle in, and the sword was knocked out of his hands. Body memory took over as Chanyeol threw himself to the side, narrowly escaping her next swipe to grab his sword without looking, lifting it just in time to block her next hit. The impact wasn't very harsh, but he could tell she had used all her force - which made it easy for Chanyeol to press back, sending her tumbling to the ground as he stood up. In a split second, it was over - Chanyeol was the one pointing the sword at her, the distance overly safe, but still a clear win.

She lifted her hands in defeat, before getting back up and dusting her clothes off with a pout. Chanyeol just stood there like an idiot until Jongin called him back.

"You won! Good job, Chanyeol!"

He blinked. Looked towards Jongdae - their eyes met, if only for a split second - and then back at Jongin.

He really had won. Huh.

There was barely any time to bask in the sudden, happy turn of events, because soon after, Jongin lost a fight to what appeared to be a seasoned swordfighter. And after that, Luhan stepped forward himself, only to lose against another female noble.

"Yixing will be next," Zitao announced, the smug grin still very much in place.

They all looked towards Luhan, even though the choice was obvious. In fact, Yifan was already straightening himself, about to step forward when Luhan shook his head.

"Jongdae will take this one," he decided. Zitao was visibly disappointed, and the rest of the team reacted with various amounts of disbelief. Yifan, in particular, seemed distraught over the idea of having to fight the deciding battle against Zitao, of all people.

Even Jongdae hesitated, and for a moment, Chanyeol thought he'd question the other's decision.

In the end he stepped forward though, going so far as to exchange a small smile with Yixing, before they lunged into the most intense battle Chanyeol had seen that day. Even during their training sessions, Yixing and Jongdae hadn't faced each other yet, and he wondered whether that had been a deciding factor for Luhan.

Either way, this was a pure match in the court fencing style. It was clear that they were both trained in that area, clear by how clean and strangely beautiful the battle looked. Having two people play by the exact same rules made for a graceful, elegant picture. It was enrapturing, and both of them seemed so focused that he couldn't picture anything interrupting their flow.

Then Jongdae made a particularly flowy, strange move Chanyeol hadn't seen before, and within a flash, he was much closer to Yixing, swords meeting once more. Jongdae used the leverage to tip Yixing off balance, somehow using the grip of his own sword and a well-placed leg to not only tip Yixing off balance, but also knock the sword out of his hand.

He didn't even attempt to point his sword at him after that - Yixing had lost, and he knew it. He was a good sport about it, actually complimenting Jongdae, who helped him back up again. Chanyeol couldn't help lingering on the action, thinking back to the way Jongdae had offered him his hand as well.

Behind them, Zitao was seething.

"Make way," he ordered, and something about the way he talked to Yixing didn't sit right with Chanyeol. Still, Yixing stepped aside and so did Jongdae, making room for Yifan, who looked mildly constipated.

Luhan clapped his back with unnecessary force.

"You can do it!"

It was equal parts hilarious and sad how terrified Yifan looked. He did try to hide it, but having shared a dorm with him for a few weeks now made it quite obvious to Chanyeol that the other would rather force his large body under his own bed to hide instead of facing a noble of this rank in battle. Or fighting the deciding match for their team, for that matter.

"Don't worry," he began, opting for a casual, optimistic tone. "He's just an annoying brat. Kick his ."

His words seemed to have the opposite effect, and Yifan grimaced. When he stood before Zitao, waiting for the acting referee to start the battle, he looked about ready to throw up.

Chanyeol nudged Luhan, trying to keep his voice down.

"Why did you think this was a good idea again?"

Luhan didn't take his eyes off the two as the battle began, and Zitao immediately charged forward, clearly fueled by angry determination.

"Because Yifan would have lost to Yixing, but he has a chance against Zitao," was all he said.

Chanyeol thought about it, tried to see it, really, but with little success.

"Because he's experienced with a sword, but was never trained in traditional ways," Jongdae suddenly stated rather than suggested, sounding closer to the answer than Chanyeol felt.

"He mentioned that his mothers have an orbal factory, focusing on weaponry that he's used to testing," Luhan agreed. Jongdae blinked.

"Is that so?"

"His body type is also naturally broader than Zitao's, who's rather stringy, and he matches him in height. He's also on the sturdy, steady end of things, so Zitao's exotic, swirly nonsense shouldn't topple him that easily," Luhan added, all the while keeping his eyes on the sparring couple, bottom lip between his teeth.

His analysis sounded very thoughtful, and it made Chanyeol wonder about his reasonings for setting him up with the girl earlier. Did he know about his and Jongdae's sparring sessions?
Either way, as nice as his thought process sounded on paper, and as much as Chanyeol was impressed by the other's observation skills... there was one thing he'd conveniently forgotten about.

"He's never gonna win."

Luhan shot him an offended look, but Chanyeol couldn't apologize for something that hadn't been mean-spirited in the first place. It was a simple observation of his own.

"Look," he said with a shrug, just as Zitao was pushed back by a rare, but well-timed attack, leaving him open, but Zitao recovered in time. Or so it would seem. Chanyeol had seen it though, and his theory was fully proven when Yifan once again had Zitao stumble back due to blunt force, aiming for the other's chest... only to stop. He just stopped, and within a second, the tables were turned and Zitao was pointing the sword at his throat with a triumphant expression, effectively scoring a win for his team.

Luhan groaned.

"No! We were so close!"

"Close to not being an embarrassment," Zitao had the nerve to quip, and Chanyeol would love to toss the swords aside to deliver an old-fashioned punch to his face.

"He clearly let you win! Don't act even more stupid than you already are," he began, unable to hold himself back.

"He let me win? How old are you again? Five?" Zitao asked in a faux display of pity, "show some dignity and accept defeat."

"Well, if I find someone to teach me about dignity, I'll recommend them to you," Chanyeol countered, feeling the anger bubble up. "Being smug about a win that's not earned-"

"Chanyeol, stop," Yifan muttered, not quite meeting his eye. "He won. I didn't stand a chance."

With that, he stepped back, mumbling something about being back in a bit. Chanyeol didn't consider himself done with the other but the arrogant prick and his noble posse (plus Yixing) were whisked away to conduct the final match.

As they were watching the battles take place, it was Jongdae's nasal voice ripping him out of his angry musings.

"I can't believe you actually won a match."

Chanyeol sighed.

"Are you about to your own ego now? Cause you can't take this from me," he deadpanned.

Jongdae huffed.

"Please. I am not that insecure. Just take it as an inspiration to pay me back accordingly."

Chanyeol shot him an exasperated look.

"You're the worst."

"No, you were," Jongdae corrected him. "I already possess average skills when it comes to using orbs, so you better not waste my time with mediocre tips."

"Well, it takes two for a successful training session, so you better work hard to keep up," Chanyeol snapped, wondering why the other had even bothered talking to him in the first place.

"Likewise," was all Jongdae said, and then they watched Zitao's team go up against a team entirely made up of commoners. They watched the tiny girl Chanyeol had battled earlier and this time, she won her match, which gave Chanyeol a small pang of satisfaction - since it meant he really hadn't been terrible earlier - but it turned to disappointment really quickly when Yixing lost his match against a girl who was clearly trained in some form of swordsmanship.

Of course Yixing took his loss with grace and a friendly compliment on his lips - Chanyeol hadn't expected anything less from him.

The deciding match was between Zitao and a  tall girl, who was nothing but slender and almost fragile-looking, with her long, dusty brown hair bound in a ponytail. It was a harmless assessment, and one that Chanyeol had no time to reevaluate because within seconds, it was obvious that she would win. Her movements spoke of years of experience, and her style was purposeful and accurate, but definitely different from the traditional noble training. Next to her, Zitao looked young and impulsive, rash and flimsy. Chanyeol was so impressed that he forgot to gloat about Zitao losing, too enraptured in a battle that didn't last all that long. Within less than two minutes, she had Zitao on his back.

Instructor Park declared the team of commoners the winners, and began making his rounds to give every team detailed feedback on their performance - no doubt hammering home the fact that they were still inexperienced kids flinging around wooden sticks.

"Well, we didn't win, but at least that prick didn't win either," Luhan muttered in a surprising flash of pettiness. Chanyeol couldn't fault him. Not only had he been condescending towards Yifan, simply because he knew he could trample all over him with no resistance, no, he was also a terrible winner and a terrible loser - even having scored second place didn't seem enough to satisfy him, judging by his current temper tantrum. Chanyeol would have looked on with a satisfied smile, if his anger wasn't so focused on Yixing.

"You lost almost every battle. What do they teach you in Ymir?"

Of course, Yixing responded with nothing but a thin smile.

"It's true. I still have a lot to learn."

Zitao groaned in frustration, running his hand through his hair before tossing his sword at Yixing.

"Go maintain the swords," he snapped moodily, and to Chanyeol's horror, the other team members also handed their swords to Yixing, who was still smiling, but there was something strained about it, and Chanyeol hated it.

He really, really hated it.

And because he was Chanyeol, he couldn't keep his  mouth shut about it.

"What is your problem?"

Zitao's scowl was directed at him next, but neither that nor the faint "Chanyeol, no-" was able to stop him from stomping over to them.

"He fought on your team and he did his best, and this is how you thank him? Why would anyone even want to be on your team?"

"This is none of your business-" Zitao began, but once Chanyeol talked himself into a rage, it needed more to stop him.

"What makes you think you're in any way better than Yixing? Is it your family name? Because if I remember correctly, you just lost the deciding match fair and square. Yixing is not your punching bag-"

"How dare you?" Zitao hissed, taking a step towards Chanyeol as well, looking like he was itching to punch him. "How dare you talk to me like that?"

"Like you're a ty human being? Don't worry, I think everybody noticed by now," Chanyeol replied, throwing up his hands in exasperation.

Next thing he knew, Zitao had gripped his collar.

"It's time for you to accept your place," he stated through gritted teeth. "You are just a nobody from a dorm made for leftovers, overseen by a sad excuse of an instructor-"

"Instructor Do isn't a bad teacher," Yixing cut in, speaking up for the first time. Zitao let go of Chanyeol to glare at Yixing instead.

"Like he taught you anything. Though if I think about it, having him be your dorm's homeroom teacher is all-too befitting. You're all just peas in a pod, aren't you? At the end of the day, it's us making the decisions you'll be grateful for-"

Chanyeol lunged at him, and tackled Zitao to the ground.

He couldn't remember the last time he had been in a brawl, much less initiated one, but right now, he wanted nothing more than to punch the other until he stopped talking-

Someone ripped him back, yelling at him to get his together before the instructor could catch them, but Chanyeol didn't care. Zitao was in the wrong, and nothing would change his mind, nothing would stop him from viewing someone as wonderful as Yixing as dirt under his shoes, and he hated it-

"Yixing."

Chanyeol's struggles ebbed down at the familiar, arrogant voice coming from behind him. Apparently, Jongdae had walked over to them at some point.

Chanyeol was still sitting in the dust, with Zitao being pulled to his feet by one of his team members. He looked slightly roughed up, with his messy hair and the specks of dirt tainting his pristine, white uniform.

There was a certain surprise on Yixing’s face, and it took Chanyeol a moment to understand the reason for that. Jongdae had never called him by his first name in public.

"Are any of these people bothering you?"

The question came out even, almost saccharine by Jongdae's standards, and a confused look over his shoulder and up only confirmed that Jongdae's expression was blank, but at the same time sharp. Like a knife hidden beneath a blanket.

Yixing blinked, fleetingly glancing over his team members.

And Zitao, who had looked oh so confident the entire time, was looking nervous now. All of them were, really. Even Chanyeol, who was utterly hopeless when it came to noble etiquette, could see what was going on - Jongdae had implied that he was close to Yixing and having other nobles bully him would in turn put them on the bad side of the Kim family.

Chanyeol understood and maybe he was starting to understand Yixing a little better as well, for the other hesitated, but ultimately smiled. Gratefully.

"No," he said, and Jongdae hummed.

"That's good to hear. I will be taking a break until the instructor finds time for us. Why don't you join me?"

For a moment, Chanyeol thought Yixing would deny, but he carefully handed the swords back to their owners, who didn't even meet his eye as he did so.

Without a word, Jongdae offered his hand to Chanyeol.

This time, he took it, staying a step behind everyone else as they walked towards the nearby shade of the training hall.

Just a few minutes earlier, he would have refused for sure, would have felt insulted that the other thought he needed assistance. Now, though, he just felt disappointed and useless.
He could stand up, complain, argue and even fight, but at the end of the day, only nobles could stand up to nobles. He felt powerless.

And Jongdae? Jongdae could make change happen with nothing but a few words. All he had to do was actually want something, and voice it out for it to happen.

It... wasn't fair.

"What's with that face?" Jongdae inquired, not even sparing him a glance. "You should be grateful you won a single match."

Chanyeol was about to tell him to shut up, when something caught his eye. Or rather someone did.

"Oh."

Confused, Jongdae followed his glance only to find instructor Do leaning against the hall with his arms crossed, looking grumpy as usual. Had he heard their earlier discourse?

"Instructor? Is something the matter?" Jongin asked right away, looking downright worried.

"You should all take a good, long look at yourself before worrying about others," he sighed, something unreadable to his tone. "I'm just here to talk to instructor Park."

As they all got settled, with Jongin finally retrieving Yifan from wherever the other had run off to, Luhan muttered something about being shocked to see their instructor out in the sunlight. Chanyeol cracked a small smile. He had a lot on his mind but for the time being, he just leaned back and accepted the icy cold water bottle handed to him by Jongin. He didn't even have the will or energy to deal with Jongdae's smug attitude, so he pretended not to notice the way the other kept throwing glances at him.
All the while, Instructor Do stood nearby, neither talking nor leaving.

The next morning, Chanyeol scuffled into the kitchen with his eyes barely open and hair a mess. He didn't get it at first, assumed that next to Yixing, Yifan was standing at the kitchen isle, hunched over or something. Blinking away the sleep, however, revealed no other than instructor Do. He was talking to Yixing in a low voice, apparently showing him how to properly cut a fish. Chanyeol blinked some more, but the image stayed.

"Oh, Chanyeol," Yixing claimed, sounding terribly awake as per usual. "You're early."

The instructor shot him a quick glance, before going back to work.

For a moment, he stared at the two people preparing breakfast for what couldn't be the first time.

"Morning, instructor," he said eventually, way too late.

Instructor Do shot him a curt nod in response, and with his arms on the table, Chanyeol dozed off once more to the faint sound of chopping and talking that was oddly soothing.
 

You're probably wondering how anyone learning fencing would even do well in a fight using swords, but... it's game lore, I swear! *haha*
I'm just generously assuming traditional court fencing is not /100%/ the same thing we call fencing today. Or rather that they're also taught how to use swords with similar methods. Idk man, it all made sense in my head, I have nothing more to defend myself!

As per usual, I'm quite attached to every single character, so if any of them catches your interest, let me know and they'll get some spotlight next, promise.
I've thought way too long about the chapter title, but I feel like this chapter is like a small insight into a lot of characters, and in my head, I found myself sorting them into these three categories. It's probably obvious to guess them~

Also, for those wondering - Chanyeol's tiny opponent was Wendy, and the girl beating Zitao's was Krystal. Cause, yanno. Why not. She's badass.

Much love,
Sugary