The two figures standing outside the staffroom were teachers. Ethan recognized them immediately.
The man was Gareth, the homeroom teacher for Class 11-1.
He was a tall, clean-cut young man with neatly parted hair and a posture that spoke of rigid discipline. As the instructor in charge of the top-ranked section, he carried himself with an air of earnest propriety, looking every bit the model educator. He was the type of person who likely ironed his socks.
Standing opposite him was a woman who seemed to be a stark contrast.
She had long, cascading violet hair and eyes that looked like pools of amethyst. She was undeniably beautiful, radiating a vibrant, playful charm—the kind of magnetic, captivating allure that made every man feel like he had a chance, even if he didn't.
This was Cornelia, the homeroom teacher for Class 11-5. Ethan's teacher.
Ethan slowed his pace, instinctively sticking to the shadows near the washroom entrance. He had no desire to get entangled in their personal affairs, but they were blocking his path.
"Please, Cornelia," Gareth said, his voice polite but pleading. He stood at a respectful distance, careful not to invade her personal space, yet his eyes were filled with a puppy-dog persistence. "I managed to get a reservation at The Sky Terrace. You know how hard it is to get a table there on a Friday night. It would be a shame to waste it."
Cornelia flashed her signature fake smile, a practiced and dazzling expression that softened the blow of her rejection.
"Gareth, you really are too sweet," she said in a light and melodic voice. "The Sky Terrace? You must have called in quite a few favors for that. It sounds absolutely lovely."
"Then say yes," Gareth pressed, encouraged by her tone. "Come on. It'll be good for you."
Cornelia's smile did not falter. He was a good man, Gareth. Reliable. Safe. But unfortunately, about as exciting as watching paint dry. If she went to dinner with him, she'd most likely spend three hours listening to his opinions on the school's budget allocation.
"I'd love to, really," she lied effortlessly. "But I have a mountain of work to get through. My students in Class 5 need a lot of attention right now, and I can't just abandon them for a night of fine dining."
"They'll survive one night without you," Gareth argued, though his smile was becoming strained after her deflection. "You worry too much."
"Perhaps," she teased. "But worrying is part of the job description."
She was looking for a graceful exit—a way to send him off without bruising his ego—when her gaze flickered past Gareth's shoulder.
She saw Ethan.
Ethan stood his ground in the hallway, his face a mask of indifference. He met her gaze evenly, neither cowering nor rushing forward to greet her.
A thoughtful glint sparked in Cornelia's amethyst eyes. The wheels turned behind that polite smile. Here was an opportunity to escape a tedious evening while simultaneously testing the waters.
"Tell you what, Gareth," Cornelia said, her voice dropping slightly as she straightened up.
"Yes?" The rising hope in Gareth's voice was impossible to miss.
"I'm always impressed by a man who embraces a challenge," she said with a light tease, before nodding towards Ethan. "You see Ethan over there? He's been dealing with a bit of a bully in my class. It's been bothering me all week."
Gareth blinked, turning to look at Ethan. He offered the boy a polite, if somewhat confused, nod. "A bully? Well, surely you don't need my help for a simple disciplinary issue?"
"It's isn't that simple, Gareth. This is a matter of politics," Cornelia corrected. "You see, the student causing the trouble is Braden Sterling, and it looks like he has been targeting Ethan quite severely."
Ethan's eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch. So, she knew. He had assumed his plight had gone unnoticed by the faculty—or simply ignored. Hearing her acknowledge it, even as a pawn in her social games, was unexpected.
However, she likely lacks the full picture, he thought, his expression remaining impassive. If she knew about the beatings, the healing potions used to prolong the torture, or the photos... I doubt she'd be smiling so casually.
At the mention of the Sterling name, Gareth's hopeful expression froze.
"If you really want to take me to dinner," Cornelia continued, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "then show me you have the resolve to handle the fallout. I'd like you to use your standing as the head of the First Section to have a little chat with Braden. If you can convince him to back off..."
She flashed him a brilliant but challenging smile.
"If you can secure a peaceful environment for my student and thereby reduce my number of problems by one, I'll be happy to accept your invitation. I'll clear my schedule for the entire weekend."
Silence descended on the hallway.
Ethan now watched the exchange with some interest. He saw exactly what she was doing. She was dangling a carrot she knew he couldn't reach.
Gareth looked at Cornelia, then he looked at Ethan. The desire to say yes was written all over his face, warring with his self-preservation instinct.
He was a nice guy at heart. He didn't mind playing the hero. But he also knew that acting rashly here could be a career-ending move. The "weekend with Cornelia" was a beautiful fantasy, but keeping his job was a necessary reality.
"Braden Sterling," Gareth repeated the name, his voice losing its pleading tone and taking on a heavier, more serious note. He straightened his posture, the conflict evident in his eyes. "That is... a significant request. You are well aware of the administration's stance on the donor families. To intervene directly in such a matter without a formal disciplinary hearing would be a breach of protocol."
He glanced at his watch, his movement precise and mechanical.
"As much as I would like to assist, I cannot simply bypass the rules," he said, his tone regaining its professional rigidity. "Also, I just remembered I have a scheduled meeting with the Vice Principal regarding some administrative matters. I cannot be late."
"But Gareth?" Cornelia called out, a hint of amused pity in her voice.
"I will see you in the staff meeting on Monday," Gareth replied, offering a stiff, polite nod. "Good evening, Cornelia. Student."
With that, the upright teacher of Class 11-1 retreated with a brisk, military cadence.
Cornelia watched him go, letting out a soft, melodious chuckle. She shook her head in mild entertainment.
"Poor Gareth," she murmured.
Ethan watched the facade with a faint, cold smirk touching his lips.
Such a reaction wasn't unexpected from Gareth. In fact, Ethan would've been a hell of a lot more surprised if Gareth actually decided to help him out in that situation. Still, he should've at least tried to come up with better excuses…