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“Manuela, I need some help,” Byleth called out, waiting in a seemingly empty infirmary. He hoped that there was nobody currently being treated, but since Lady Rhea started to assign battles to the students, there was no telling. For one, it would be slightly embarrassing to ask Manuela about the questions on his mind. But to be honest, the main aggressor would be the inevitable gossiping from the students if they see the infamous Manuela alone with a male. A teacher, no less! Though, Byleth guessed, it would all depend on the student in general. He doesn’t care much about rumors, anyway. It is meaningless chatter for people with nothing better to worry about or do.
Byleth let out a small sigh. Every second Manuela waits to answer him, he gets more antsy. Even though Byleth is by no means in touch with his emotions, he can tell with great ease when he is nervous. At this point he can barely sit still, his nerves almost crushing him. Why isn’t she here already?! His literal life is on the line.
The sound of heels hurriedly clicking on the stone floor spooked Byleth, causing him to jerk his head over to where the sounds were coming from. Manuela, a curvy middle-aged woman who tripled as the head of the infirmary, a teacher for some students at the Garreg Mach monastery, and a former songstress, peeked her head through a curtain. Once she saw the newly appointed professor, she gave him a welcoming smile. “Hello, Professor! I apologize for the wait, I had a student with a particularly bad wound.” She stepped out from behind the curtain and came to stand a couple of feet in front of Byleth.
“I am actually quite surprised, Professor. I never thought I would see you in my office; you never accept my offers to treat your wounds,” She gave Byleth a cheeky wink, “Or does this have to do with something more… important than a matter of the infirmary?”
Byleth, in his oblivious and monotonous glory, replied: “Yes, actually. Could I speak to you in private?” Suddenly his dirty and worn-out boots were the find of the century. “I think I may lose my job here at Garreg Mach.”
Manuela’s eyes widened in surprise, and motioned him to follow her. “Let’s go to an empty cot. Don’t worry, the student that is staying in the infirmary at the moment is asleep. She will not wake up until later tomorrow.” Byleth nodded in response.
The physician gently moved the curtains aside, and let Byleth go through. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said, closing the curtains after both of them were inside.
Byleth not-so-gracefully plopped himself onto one of the cots, and put his intense gaze on Manuela. She sat down on a spare chair, crossed her legs, and returned his gaze. “Now, Professor, what in Seiros’ name did you mean by losing your job?” She furrowed her brows. This was the most serious Byleth had ever seen the woman. “You are very important to both the students and staff here, so why do you think that?”
Byleth shifted his gaze to the window. “Seteth has been griping lately. Much more so than usual,” Byleth said shortly. Some strands of his muted blue hair fell into his face as he leaned further back into the cot. “Ever since Flayn joined my class, he seems to have it out for me.”
Manuela tilted her head in confusion. “Professor, I hope this doesn’t sound particularly rude, but that is simply how Seteth is. He is awfully protective of his sister, as you know.” Manuela said, deep in thought. “Perhaps he is testing to see if he trusts you with her? It makes sense, especially after the incident involving Flayn and me.” She tightens her gaze on Byleth, waiting for his response.
Byleth took in her words and carefully dissected them. She was right in some aspects, yes, but there is something fishy about this whole situation. “I agree, Manuela. But I think this is something a bit more than that,” Byleth said, choosing his words carefully. “He only gets like that when I am helping Flayn.”
“Could you explain that a little more, please?” Manuela said, brushing some light brown strands of hair out of her tanned face.
“Whenever I spend time alone with Flayn, he gets angry,” Byleth answered.
---
“Professor!” A voice said, tugging at his coat, “I am afraid I need some assistance with an assignment you have given our class,” they said cheerfully, looking up at the professor. Byleth, working diligently at cleaning the absolutely disgusting chalkboards, turned around and looked down at the voice, who turned out to be Flayn.
“When would you like me to help you?” He said, seemingly bored with the girl in front of him.
Flayn gave her professor a small smile: “Right now would be fine.”
Byleth hummed in response and carefully set down his cleaning supplies. Guess I will have to finish this later, he thought. He motioned for his student to follow him, and led the two of them to the closest desk to them. Pulling out a chair, Byleth said “Sit down, I will stand. It is more comfortable for me anyways.” Flayn let out a giggle, sat down, and put the paper she was holding onto the desk.
“I was wondering what exactly this means?” The girl pointed at a crudely drawn diagram of two forces engaged in battle using a tactic that Byleth went over earlier in his lectures for the day. “I know the term, and I know how the troops move and their placements, but I am afraid I don’t understand how this tactic is effective,” Flayn grumbled, obviously frustrated.
“Ah, don’t worry,” Byleth said, moving swiftly behind her. “Would you like me to show you, or tell you?” He put his calloused hands on his hips, and waited for an answer.
“Show me, please!” Flayn turned around in her seat to look at the professor. “I actually learn better this way, you know?”
Byleth nodded. “Alright, turn around. I’ll show you like this,” He wrapped his arms around her lithe frame and placed his hands over hers. Byleth gripped them and drug them quite unceremoniously to where he decided they needed to be. “You see how the blue army surrounds them?”
As Byleth proceeds to go over the material, he fails to realize how their position might look to an outsider. He also failed to hear the click-clacking of a certain someone’s steel-toed boots.
“Thank you, Professor! This truly helped,” Flayn smiled gratefully. “Your kindness will be remembered!” She giggled.
Byleth, as stoic as ever, replied: “No problem. I am glad this helped-”
“What are you doing, Flayn?” A man’s voice yelled, furious. Flayn gasped and looked at the person.
“Brother, hello! My Professor was just showing me some battle tactics!” She gave another smile to her brother, Seteth.
Byleth glanced at Seteth, still with his arms around Flayn, and said, “Yes, we-”
Interrupting Byleth a second time, Seteth focused his deathly deadpan onto the poor professor. “You do not get to speak another word. Flayn, let’s go.”
Byleth carefully stepped back and dropped his arms, confused. What did he do wrong? He knows he did not say anything inappropriate (he had been giving too many stern talks to forget that one), so what was it? Byleth knows that the mercenary way of life is way different than the noble one, so that definitely has something to do with it. Did Seteth not like his way of teaching? If that was the case, then wouldn’t he have said something during his evaluations?
Byleth would not have gotten to ask anyways, for both Seteth and Flayn were gone. Did he seriously just monologue and zone out? This only happened when Sothis was being particularly chatty.
Whatever it was, the thought of Seteth so inexplicably furious occupied Byleth’s thoughts the rest of the day.
---
“I think I know why he was angry, Byleth,” Manuela let out a sly grin and a few chuckles.
Byleth glared.
Manuela rolled her eyes at the glare and continued her train of thought. “He thought the way you were touching Flayn was inappropriate. For a tactical genius, you sure are dull when it comes to social situations.”
“I am afraid I don’t understand, Manuela.”
“Of course you don’t. That’s why you came to me, after all.” She rolled her eyes yet again, “I am assuming mercenaries don’t have boundaries when it came to physical touch?”
Byleth frowned. “Yes, I suppose that is true. We had no time for silly things like that. It was business, and at the end of the day, we had more important things to worry about instead of that.”
Manuela gave him a small smile. “I understand, though you have to understand it from Seteth’s point of view as well.” Her smile broke out into a full-on grin. “That is his sister. He wants to protect her, so obviously he does not like it if you make any sort of physical contact with Flayn. And I don’t think that you can lose your job for that. You are simply overreacting.”
Byleth stood up, having gotten his question answered. “That makes sense. Thank you, Manuela.” With that, he swiftly pulled the curtains apart and simply left Manuela alone in the makeshift room.
She shook her head and got up from the chair. Manuela wishes the Professor wasn’t as impolite with every other staff he speaks with at the monastery. Somehow she knew that was a wish wasted. Byleth will most likely never change, though that might not be a bad thing in the end. Some people need something new in their lives.