"Altair, you're being dramatic again."
"I am not dramatic, I am expressive!" Altair snapped, slamming his spoon down with the flair of a courtroom lawyer. "There is a difference."
Cassian, calm as a monk in meditation, chewed leisurely on one of the pickles Altair had forced upon him. "Mhm."
"Mhm?! That's all you have to say to my righteous declaration?!"
"Mhm."
Altair gasped as though Cassian had slapped him. "You—you insufferable man! You sit there, eating pickles like the smug cucumber you are, while I—"
"Cucumbers are different from pickles," Cassian interrupted.
"Don't you dare correct me when I am insulting you!"
Their classmates, seated nearby, had long abandoned their own lunches in favor of watching the unfolding drama. Someone whispered, "This is better than television," and several heads bobbed in agreement.
Cassian, aware of the audience but unbothered, wiped his fingers with a napkin. "If you hate me so much, why are you still sitting here?"
Altair blinked, indignant. "Because, Cassian, leaving would mean admitting defeat, and I—Altair—never concede defeat to anyone. Especially not you."
"Sounds like cowardice."
"Cowardice?!" Altair nearly choked on air. "That is the boldest misinterpretation I've ever heard. I am brave. I am courageous. I—" He jabbed his spoon toward Cassian. "—will prove to this entire cafeteria that you are nothing but an overinflated bag of hot air."
Cassian leaned back in his chair, ocean eyes amused. "And how do you plan to do that? By yelling louder?"
Altair's grin turned foxlike. "By defeating you."
Cassian raised a brow. "In what?"
Altair glanced around, spotting the spread of food on both their trays. His gaze landed on the bread rolls, the rice bowls, the pile of side dishes. Inspiration struck. "A food duel."
The crowd gasped as if he'd just declared war.
"A… food duel?" Cassian repeated, deadpan.
"Yes!" Altair stood up, pointing dramatically. "We will race to see who can eat the most in ten minutes. If I win, you will admit that I am the superior man in front of all these witnesses!"
"And if I win?" Cassian asked.
Altair blinked, caught off guard. "…You won't."
Cassian smirked. "That confident?"
"I am not confident," Altair corrected. "I am certain."
The cafeteria was buzzing now, students abandoning tables to crowd around. Someone began timing on their phone. Another whispered, "I bet five bucks on Cassian," and was immediately countered with, "No way, Altair's insane enough to pull this off."
Cassian sighed, but the corner of his mouth curved. "Fine. But don't cry when you lose."
Altair scoffed. "Cry? Please. The only tears shed today will be yours."
---
The Duel Begins
"Three… two… one—go!"
Altair lunged at his tray like a starved wolf, shoveling rice into his mouth with terrifying speed. "Hhh—mph—see?!" he mumbled through full cheeks. "I—am—amazing."
Cassian, in contrast, picked up his chopsticks with unhurried grace and began eating at a steady, calm pace.
"Why is he eating like he's at a royal banquet?" someone whispered.
"Because he is Cassian," another replied.
Altair glared between bites. "Eat faster, you snail! You're embarrassing yourself!"
"I'm fine," Cassian said evenly, sipping his water like he had all the time in the world.
Altair slammed down an empty bowl, victorious. "One down!" He immediately attacked the next dish.
"Two bites in and he's already red in the face," Cassian observed.
"That's the color of determination, you unseasoned breadstick!"
"More like indigestion," Cassian muttered.
The crowd roared with laughter.
---
Five Minutes In
Altair had devoured half his tray, panting but stubborn. Cassian had eaten just as much, though with far less effort.
"You—huff—cheating turtle," Altair wheezed, pointing his spoon. "How are you not dying?!"
"Because I pace myself."
"Pace is for cowards!" Altair declared.
"And yet you're about to pass out."
"I am not!"
He was. Sweat beaded at his forehead, but his pride burned hotter. He refused to back down.
Cassian, meanwhile, calmly plucked the last pickle off his plate. "You know, this feels familiar."
Altair squinted at him. "What—do you—mean?"
Cassian popped the pickle in his mouth. "Festival day. Years ago. You gave me your pickle and sulked the whole time."
Altair froze mid-bite, cheeks puffed with rice. His eyes widened. "You—remember that?"
"Of course."
Altair blinked rapidly, as if caught between outrage and something softer. He quickly masked it with a glare. "Don't bring up ancient history in the middle of my victory!"
Cassian chuckled, low and warm. "Whatever you say."
---
Final Minute
"Thirty seconds left!" someone shouted.
Altair shoved another roll into his mouth, nearly choking. Cassian placed his chopsticks down, having cleared his tray, and watched in amusement.
"You're going to make yourself sick," he said.
Altair tried to respond but could only produce muffled sounds through his overstuffed cheeks.
Cassian leaned back, arms crossed, enjoying the fox's struggle. "Dignified as always."
"Mmmph—mmffhh!" Altair garbled angrily.
The timer buzzed. "Time's up!"
The crowd erupted into cheers and laughter.
Altair, gasping and clutching his stomach, collapsed dramatically against the table. "I… I did it. I won."
Cassian arched a brow. "You look like you lost."
"I… am… triumphant," Altair wheezed.
Cassian leaned forward slightly, voice just low enough for Altair to hear. "And yet you're still the same as back then. Giving me what you hate, sulking when I don't play along, shouting so loud everyone thinks you care more than you admit."
Altair froze, eyes darting to him.
Cassian smirked faintly. "You haven't changed, fox."
For once, Altair had no retort. His face heated—not from the food this time—but from something he refused to name.
"Shut up," he muttered weakly, shoving a napkin at Cassian. "Wipe your smug face."
Cassian chuckled. "Whatever you say."
---
Aftermath
As the crowd dispersed, still gossiping, Altair slumped in his chair, groaning.
"This… is not over," he mumbled, head buried in his arms.
Cassian looked at him, then at the abandoned trays, then back again. "No, it isn't."
And despite himself, he found he didn't mind.