Bear

The moment they stepped into their dorm, Elijah immediately slumped onto the couch, letting out a long, exaggerated groan. "Why does it feel like the day's been a week long?"

Kieran flopped dramatically onto the floor, arms and legs spread out like a starfish. "Guys, let's just accept it now. We're doomed. Doomed, I tell you!"

Elijah peeked out from under his arm. "You've said 'we're doomed' like, five times in the last hour."

"Because we are!" Kieran waved his arms around for emphasis. "Do you realize we're going up against some serious monsters? I heard one of the teams has a guy who can bend steel beams with his bare hands!"

Visconti didn't even look up from his book. "That's not a real person. That's a meme."

"It's not a meme! I heard it from Annis, and she's reliable!"

"Annis also told you that the cafeteria serves dragon meat on Fridays," Elijah deadpanned.

"Okay, fine, but—" Kieran sat up suddenly, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "If we were eating dragon meat, don't you think we'd all have fire breath by now?"

Elijah let out a long sigh. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"Come on, Elijah," Kieran said, crawling onto the couch and nudging him. "You've got the most serious face all the time. Lighten up a little. Tell me you wouldn't want fire breath. Imagine how cool that'd be."

"It'd probably burn my eyebrows off," Elijah replied, pushing Kieran's face away.

"Not if you aimed properly!"

Visconti finally snapped his book shut. "You're both ridiculous. If we're talking upgrades, I'd much rather have super speed. You know how much more I could get done?"

"Super speed?" Kieran scoffed, crossing his arms. "Boring. Fire breath beats that any day."

"Super speed could outrun your fire breath."

"Yeah, but could it outrun the fear of fire breath?"

Elijah sat up, rubbing his temples. "Why am I friends with you two again?"

"Because we're amazing," Kieran said without missing a beat, leaning back dramatically. "And because without us, you'd just brood in a corner all day."

Visconti smirked. "He's not wrong."

Elijah groaned and leaned back against the couch. "I regret every life choice that led me here."

Kieran flopped into the armchair across from him, kicking his legs up onto the coffee table. "Chill man."

Visconti walked in last, neatly setting his bag down by the wall before eyeing Kieran's shoes on the table. "Kieran, get your filthy boots off the furniture."

Kieran smirked, wiggling his toes inside his boots. "Make me."

Without missing a beat, Visconti reached over, yanked one of Kieran's boots off, and hurled it across the room. It landed with a loud thud against the far wall.

"Hey!" Kieran shouted, sitting up in mock outrage. "That was uncalled for!"

Visconti shrugged. "I warned you."

Elijah, watching the scene unfold from his spot on the couch, shook his head. "You two are like kids. Next thing I know, you'll be fighting over who gets the last cookie."

Kieran perked up. "Wait, do we have cookies?"

Visconti sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Focus, Kieran. We were talking about the sparring match."

"But cookies are important too!" Kieran argued. "Think about it—what's the point of winning if we don't reward ourselves with snacks?"

Elijah sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. "If we win, you can have all the cookies you want. Deal?"

Kieran grinned, leaning back in the chair. "Deal. But I'm holding you to that, Elijah."

"Sure," Elijah replied dryly. "Just don't cry if we lose because you got distracted mid-fight thinking about dessert."

Visconti snorted, trying to suppress a laugh. "He probably would, too. Can you imagine him in the middle of the match, yelling, 'Hold up, guys! I need a snack break!'"

Kieran pointed dramatically at Visconti. "I would never! I'd finish the match first, then demand snacks. I have honor."

Elijah chuckled, shaking his head. "Honor and an appetite the size of a mountain."

"Exactly!" Kieran said proudly, completely missing the jab.

An hour later

Elijah was sprawled out on the couch, staring at the ceiling while Kieran paced around the room, waving his hands dramatically as he launched into yet another ridiculous story.

"I'm telling you, I could totally take down a bear if I had to," Kieran declared, puffing out his chest.

Visconti, who was meticulously cleaning his glasses, arched an eyebrow. "A bear? You? The guy who tripped over his own shoelaces?"

Kieran pointed at him, undeterred. "That was tactical! I was testing my reflexes."

"By face-planting into the dirt?" Elijah said, his voice deadpan.

Kieran spun around, glaring at both of them. "You guys have no faith in me. I'm a tactical genius!"

Elijah rolled his eyes. "If by 'tactical genius,' you mean 'chaotic liability,' then yeah, sure."

"Okay, fine," Kieran huffed, crossing his arms. "What about you, Elijah? What would you do if you ran into a bear in the wild?"

Elijah didn't even look at him. "I'd run."

Kieran blinked. "What?"

"I'd run," Elijah repeated, still staring at the ceiling.

Kieran scoffed. "That's your big plan? Run? You wouldn't fight it or, I don't know, use some cool gravity trick to send it flying?"

Elijah turned his head slightly to look at Kieran. "Why would I fight a bear when I could just avoid it entirely? I'm not stupid."

Visconti smirked. "And there it is—the voice of logic. Kieran, take notes."

"Logic is boring," Kieran muttered, plopping down into the armchair.

Visconti leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. "Logic is what's going to keep us alive during that sparring event next week. Unlike your 'fight everything that moves' strategy."

Kieran waved him off. "Please. My strategy works. Chaos is unpredictable. It keeps people on their toes."

"Yeah, including us," Elijah muttered under his breath.

Kieran grinned, leaning forward. "Come on, admit it—you'd miss me if I wasn't around to keep things interesting."

Elijah sighed dramatically. "I'd miss the peace and quiet."

"Rude," Kieran said, tossing a pillow at him. Elijah caught it effortlessly and tossed it right back, hitting Kieran square in the face.

Visconti chuckled, shaking his head. "You two are like toddlers."

"Better than being a neat freak," Kieran shot back, sticking out his tongue.

"Being organized is a strength," Visconti retorted, adjusting his perfectly aligned watch.

Elijah groaned, sitting up. "Can we all agree on one thing? If we lose next week, it's Kieran's fault."

"Hey!" Kieran exclaimed, throwing his arms up in protest. "Why me?"

"Because," Elijah said, standing and stretching, "You'll probably try to fight the other team with a pillow instead of a weapon."