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The office was so quiet that Lysithea had assumed it empty upon first approaching it. She paused outside the open doorway, ear tipped towards it, and eventually picked up the faint scritch of quill against paper. She crept closer and peeked her head in, first sighting Hanneman reading at his desk and then Cyril in the corner, writing diligently on a spare sheet of parchment.
She waited, and waited. Neither of the occupants moved from their places, looked to each other, or even exchanged a word. Her face pulled into a pout, and she announced her presence with a pointed clearing of her throat.
"Lysithea." Hanneman greeted her with a smile, difficult to distinguish under his moustache, and lowered his book. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"Just checking in, Professor Hanneman." she said, letting herself into the room. She was graced with the scent of old paper and melted candlewax. "On your tutoring."
"Ah, very diligent of you. Young Cyril has been progressing at an excellent pace. I daresay he'll be able to write confidently by the end of the month."
Lysithea turned to where Cyril was still focused on his paper, mouth set in a thin line and brows practically knotted together as he mapped out letters that, even from this distance, she was able to distinguish. He was making progress! Her heart swelled with pride, and she fought down a smile as she looked back to Hanneman. "I'm happy to hear it, but, uhm... a word, professor?"
Hanneman's eyes widened a little, but he took a moment to bookmark his hardback and then gave her his full attention, hands steepled atop the desk. Lysithea had been hoping for them to step outside, but... whatever. She walked up to the desk and leant in close, speaking quietly enough for Cyril to not overhear. "I couldn't help but notice that, for being a tutoring session, there's not an awful lot of, well, tutoring."
Hanneman stared at her for a second longer, and then, much to her annoyance, replied with a small, airy chuckle. "Not to worry, child. This arrangement is what is most comfortable for us both."
"Comfortable?" She frowned. "He was fine enough when I was teaching him how to recognise words. Isn't a hands-on approach better for when he's learning the basics?"
"Well, yes, for some people."
"'Some?'" What could the professor mean by that? Did he think that Cyril was 'different' from his other students? Lysithea's chest puffed out as she grew angry on her friend's behalf. "To be frank, sir, I think it's very unprofessional of you to treat Cyril differently just because he can't read as well as the rest of us! Or is it because he's an Almyran? Or a servant? I would've thought you better than to treat someone different because of-"
"Lysithea, no, please let me explain." Hanneman raised his palms to her and, once she acquiesced, adjusted his monocle nervously. "At first, yes, I taught him as I would any student, but he seemed uncomfortable with my continued presence. I discussed it with him and he told me that he would prefer I keep my distance unless he asked for my help. I assure you, he is learning remarkably well on his own."
"I-Is that so?"
"Indeed. If I had to conjecture, I think he'd rather wait until his work is of an improved quality before presenting it to me. Not that I would judge him either way, but I do want to ensure that my students aren't made uncomfortable by my presence."
And yet you have no problem following them around if their Crests peak your interest. Lysithea thought sourly. Still, she had jumped to a conclusion and assumed the worst of Hanneman, and she deflated a little as she felt the shame of that. Being too prideful to admit her mistake, she instead moved quickly along. "But you are still helping him where he needs it, correct?"
"Of course, my dear." This time she didn't need to squint to see his smile; it was clear from the lines that crinkled around his eyes. "Not that he needs much help. Why, he's one of the fastest learners I've ever had the pleasure of teaching, and one of the most diligent on top of that."
Again Lysithea felt her chest grow warm, and this time she couldn't stop her lips from quirking up. "Ohh, I knew he would be! I noticed right away that he has an excellent memory, and though he's a little strange sometimes, he works harder than anyone I know. Almost as much as myself, in fact!"
Some part of what she'd said seemed to have caught the professor's attention. He didn't frown but his eyes narrowed in thought, and her jubilation stuttered to a halt as concern took its place. "Is something wrong, sir?"
He didn't reply immediately. Instead he turned his attention behind her, raising his voice to catch the attention of the boy sat there. "Excuse me, Cyril?"
"Yeah?" Cyril looked up, his concentrated scowl softening upon seeing their guest. "Oh, hey Lysithea! What are you doing here?"
Had he really not noticed her until now? He must've been entirely absorbed in his work. "Hey Cyril! Just checking in on you two."
"Cyril, do you mind if I divulge to Lysithea the discussion we had earlier today?" Hanneman asked.
"You mean the one about me?" The professor nodded. Cyril glanced at Lysithea- though his stolid expression was difficult to read, she got the impression that he was sizing her up. "Sure, I guess. But you can't tell anyone else, Lysithea."
"Uh, certainly."
"Thanks." Cyril offered her one of his rare smiles and then refocused quickly back on his work. Lysithea swivelled around to Hanneman the second that Cyril left the conversation, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Hanneman's hand came up to his chin, stroking his goatee in thought. She realised that whatever he wished to divulge was something important, and thus something he had to think about carefully, but that only made her more impatient. She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet by the time Hanneman nodded to himself, turning his attention back to her. "Lysithea, just now you described Cyril as 'a little strange'."
Had she? Now that she thought back on her words, she had. "I-I didn't mean that in a bad way!" she corrected with a fluster. "I like that about him, actually- no, wait, that came out wrong too-!"
She felt her cheeks grow hot as the professor chuckled at her. "Not to worry, child. You are not the first to make a comment along that lines. Indeed, from what Cyril has told me, there are many in the monastery who have expressed the same sentiment."
Lysithea's embarrassment faded as she scowled. "They haven't been given him any trouble, have they?"
"That is something you will have to ask him. In any case, my interest was piqued by this, and so I took to observing Cyril to confirm some suspicions of mine."
Her scowl deepened. "You haven't been 'observing' him outside of your tutoring sessions, have you?"
Hanneman blinked owlishly. "I knew it." she muttered, but allowed him to continue. She could gripe about it after he was done.
"My findings were most revealing. Cyril is a very honest child; he does not hesitate to voice his criticisms. If someone is irritating him, then he will plainly tell them as such. Though this seems to have rubbed some of the students the wrong way, I have never been left with the impression that he speaks with malicious intent. Rather, much of his consternation towards others comes from his lack of interest in socialising with them."
Lysithea nodded along. She had heard from both Claude and Ignatz that Cyril had been very blunt in rebuffing their attempts at conversation. As someone who had been described as 'prickly' on more than one occasion, she couldn't say she disliked that about him.
"Secondly, there are two topics of which he has taken a particular and quite vaunted interest: his work around the monastery, and the archbishop who tasks him with it. Indeed, his veneration of Lady Rhea appears to be a notable source of his 'strange' reputation."
That was also true. If Lysithea didn't offer a topic of conversation then Cyril could very well go on forever about how grateful he was to Lady Rhea, or otherwise regale her with enough minutiae about cleaning to make her head spin.
"Thirdly, though he is a talented student, there are some areas in which he struggles. Reading and writing he is handling with ease- indeed, the more that he understands their rules, the more that he seems to enjoy them. However, upon my referring to you as the 'friend' that introduced him to the topics, he confessed that he didn't truly understand friendship or what it entailed. Children half his age could describe the feeling, or their approximation of it, and yet Cyril, an intelligent young boy, could not."
That fact was new to Lysithea. True, she had never outright called him a friend, but it was natural for her to think of him as one. And yet he hadn't even been able to parse the concept? She glanced at him over her shoulder, struck with the sudden urge to offer him her company.
"And what do these 'findings' tell you?" she asked, turning back to Hanneman. The elder man plucked the monocle from his eye, procuring a cloth from his desk with which to wipe it.
"They tell me a story that I've heard but once before." There was something almost melancholic in his tone. "Tell me, Lysithea, do you recall our conversation about your, ahem, secret? Where you accused me of being 'utterly lacking in empathy'?"
She winced. She didn't regret her words per se, but without their context they sounded even harsher than they had back then. "Well, yes..."
"No need to fret on it. I can't say I didn't deserve to be told that. To be truthful, I've always had something of a problem with empathising with others. How do I explain this... everyone has their own feelings, locked up in their body, and sometimes it is difficult for me to remember that they are there."
Lysithea was silent. It was somewhat hard for her to grasp, that someone could be so genuinely disconnected from the emotions of others, but she wanted to understand the point he was making.
"It isn't helped, of course, by my fervent studying of Crests. This point is even harder for me to explain. When a person gains an interest, they are usually able to moderate it. I, unfortunately, cannot. Crests occupy my thoughts almost every hour of the day. Some nights I can't sleep for how intensely I think of them. There are times that I am talking to others and I simply cannot keep track of the conversation when it does not involve Crests. I would never think to give up my interest in them; and yet, at times, I confess that it can feel like a curse."
"I see..." She didn't, not entirely, but she was trying. To be obsessed with something to the exclusion of all else- Lysithea was beginning to see how this related back to Cyril. "So the way Cyril thinks, it's the same as how you do? And you..."
Hanneman nodded, sliding his monocle back into place. "My mind does not work in the same way as that of a normal person. It was a great source of distress for my parents, who sent me to countless doctors in the hope of fixing whatever was wrong with me. But therein lied the issue: my mind was not 'wrong'. It was not 'broken'. It was, and is, simply different. I have spent many years learning how to perform like a regular person- how to speak, act, and think 'properly'- but there will always be a fundamental part of me that is simply different. It took me a very long time to come to terms with that."
"If I am correct about young Cyril..." he said, looking over again to where Cyril was silently mouthing the words that he'd written down, "...then it is my greatest desire to make his journey less perilous than it was for myself. I share this all with you, dear Lysithea, in the hope that, if you cannot help, you can at least understand."
He allowed her a moment to process everything that had been said. Lysithea let out a long exhale, her mind buzzing from all the new information. So many oddities that she'd noticed, consciously or otherwise, about Cyril and Hanneman made sense when she viewed them under this new lens. It was exciting, in a way, to see all the puzzle pieces fall into place, yet the picture at the end was one that she didn't feel capable yet of deciphering.
But she would one day. She was the smartest student of Garreg Mach. The prodigal von Ordelia. If anyone could learn to understand it, then it would naturally be her. Of that, she had little doubt.
"I will help." she said, surprising Hanneman with her confidence. "I refuse to let Cyril's talents go to waste. If I need to learn a whole different process in order to teach him, then I will."
It was the least she could do for a friend.
Hanneman smiled, and then beamed, and then laughed merrily. "I should hope we won't have to go that far. Still, your enthusiasm is most wonderful to see. To have had a friend like you when I was young..."
Lysithea felt herself flush again as the two of them were joined by Cyril, staring curiously at the professor. "What was so funny?"
"Nothing you need to worry about." Lysithea said, ignoring his raised brow as she instead peeked at the parchment in his hand. "How goes the writing? Let me- I mean, can I see?"
"Uh..." He looked at her, and then down at the parchment. "It's... just a practise one. I'll show you my next one. I think I'm really getting the hang of all these loops and lines!"
Lysithea beamed at him, and she could see out the corner of her eye that Hanneman was doing much the same. "I can't wait to see it!"