Chapter Text
Lysithea is, without a doubt, having the worst day of her life.
She knew something was off in the general schema of things when they ran out of her favorite strawberry oat milk at the Dagdan grocery store on the way to her first class teaching a couple of undergrads intermediate org chem.
Aside from not having strawberry oat milk in her system, being thrown out of her daily routine imbalances her humours, and her temper is significantly shorter when dealing with students who won’t listen in class and then dare ask for extra credit flunking her exams.
Then it rains. Then her new white shoes get rained on. Then Professor Hanneman hands her back her manuscript with countless marks on its margins.
If he hadn’t contributed enough, he tells her that due to unforeseen changes in the curriculum and some regulations introduced by Director Rhea for most part-time instructors, Lysithea is required to take a few units on pedagogy — on top of two undergrad teaching classes, her manuscript that’s approaching its publisher deadlines, around six units for her electives, and some work at the lab required by her scholarship.
By the time Professor Hanneman is done talking, Lysithea hasn’t heard half of it. She gathers her manuscript in its neat binder and shoves it into her tote bag unceremoniously.
“Miss Ordelia,” he says, looking surprised but also as if he pitied her. “Will you be alright?”
“Frankly, no,” Her voice shakes as she answers him. “I’ll send the revisions by Thursday. Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be having a small meltdown before my next class.”
It takes around thirty minutes of brisk-walking before she cracks, and the unfortunate place that will have to contain her quiet sobs is the restroom by the University oval, where she sets an alarm for five minutes and purges herself for that entire duration.
Around minute three of crying, the door opens, and she’s face to face with a purple-haired woman in only a sports bra and compression shorts, with washboard-grade abs on full display.
“Oh,” she says, still holding the door open. Yes, it’s not every day you’ll see someone crying in the locker room but could she at least close the door while she’s having a cathartic meltdown. It’s basic university etiquette. “Um. Hi.”
Lysithea resists the urge to growl at her, which wouldn’t be convincing given her red eyes and runny nose. “Can I fucking help you?”
The woman looks around, not at all terrified but rather baffled and at a loss for words. “I think I should be asking you that,” she says, and Lysithea has to fight the urge to look at her body. “You’re… um…”
“Crying? Yes. It happens.”
“In the athlete’s locker room.”
Lysithea is about to tell her that she doesn’t care and that it is her right, as a member of this institution, to have a nervous breakdown wherever she sees fit, but her alarm sounds off, and it’s as if a switch has flipped in Lysithea’s mind.
She heaves a breath that rattles her ribs, and walks over to the sink to wash her face, feeling better already. The woman still stands dumbly at the entrance, watching her with something akin to concern, and Lysithea ignores her to retouch her lip tint and powder her nose.
She mumbles a rather hostile “excuse me,” at the door and manages to avoid the woman still standing in a state of undress in front of it, a bad habit Edelgard shared— athletes, Lysithea grumbles, all the same. Dorothea enjoyed and didn’t mind for obvious reasons, but Lysithea did—until the woman steps aside to hold the door out for her.
“Hey,” she calls out. “I… I hope your day turns around. You’re free to have your meltdowns in the locker room any time. I’ll make sure of it.”
Lysithea has had enough of her stupid and stupidly pretty face and washboard-grade abs on display. She hopes she never sees her again. “Whatever.”
“Aww, Lys, I’m sorry this day has been so horrid for you,” Mercedes says with a frown, as Lysithea leans on her arms on the counter, watching as her roommate squeezes a piping bag on the cookies that have finished setting. When she’s done with three, she places them on a plate and slides them across the marble for Lysithea, as she always does whenever she’s working on anything in the kitchen. “You’ll ace that class, for sure, and you can make some changes to your workload as a teacher.”
That’s true. The pedagogy class isn’t a problem, and she can lessen her requirements and lab work to make time for her manuscript. If there’s anyone who can make all of this work, it would be her.
She takes a bite and hums her delight, to which Mercedes smiles and gives her a thumbs up which Lysithea returns. “Still,” she swallows. “It’s so embarrassing someone saw me crying in the bathroom.”
“Happens to everyone,” Mercedes finishes touching up on the other batch that had finished setting. “And it’s not like you’re going to see her again! The university has a lot of people. She’d probably forgotten about it.”
Lysithea doubts it, but she’s in a better mood thanks to Mercedes’ treats, and Dorothea and Edelgard who sent over some food since they were back home in Enbarr over the short break for grad students.
She won’t see that girl with the washboard-grade abs again. She simply can’t let that happen.
-
Lysithea flips through the pages of an undergrad’s test paper — a hundred percent score, as she expected from this student. She leaves a smiley face and a little note on the side to keep up the good work, then clips the test papers to file it neatly in her bag.
A few people from the faculty greet her, which she returns, and they exchange pleasantries and slight complaints about being made to take the class. Though she, like most of them, have heard good things about this Professor Byleth and is somewhat intrigued to see how the rest of the semester will go.
She turns on her tablet with her pencil and pulls up a new note when someone raps their knuckle against the empty chair beside her.
“Is this seat taken?” They say, and Lysithea is about to say it isn’t until she looks up to see last week’s purple haired washboard-grade abs athlete from the locker room breakdown incident.
It was at that moment that Lysithea forgoes the remainder of her faith in the Gods.
“Yes,” she says, her cheeks heating up. “Sorry. Find another seat.”
The woman is about to leave until she turns back to Lysithea, her brows furrowed. “Hey, aren’t you the locker room breakdown girl?”
“Nope, nuh-uh, that isn’t me,” she’s quick to deny, though the sheen of sweat that breaks on her forehead gives her away. “Why would anyone cry in the locker room? How conspicuous.”
The woman has the gall to laugh. “I don’t know, lady, you tell me. Alright, see ya.” She turns, about to look for another seat, and Lysithea is relieved that she won’t be sitting beside her until Professor Byleth calls the woman’s attention.
“Shez? Where are you going?”
“I was going to get a chair outside and sit by the door.”
Byleth shakes her head. “We’re all here. You can take that seat beside Miss Ordelia.”
Shez throws her a look, more teasing than offended, and Lysithea moves her chair and angles her entire body away from her as much as she can.
Shez puts down her school bag and gym bag on the floor and takes the seat. “I promise I won’t make you cry,” she says, and then takes out a small notebook to jot down notes.
Lysithea ignores her. Poorly, if she says so herself, judging by the way the back of her neck feels like a furnace.
“At the end of the semester, you’ll be paired up to work on a case analysis on modern teaching methods,” Byleth says, leaning against the desk. “And your partner will be your seatmate. Instead of your finals, you’ll have a presentation and a short paper to come with it.”
Lysithea seethes in her place, hoping that Byleth and everyone in the fucking room can feel her very harmful telepathic thoughts. Partners! With an athlete! Ignoring the fact that said athlete has nice arms and thighs and Lysithea has seen her without her shirt on. How disgraceful!
“Oh, hey, partner!” Shez lifts her hand up for a high five, which Lysithea ignores for a glare which should be enough to faze Hubert and Jeritza. Sadly, it does not have its intended effect, but Shez puts her hand down to smile at her. “Can I get your socials? So we could start on the paired work.”
“We will do no such thing,” Lysithea tells her, packing her stuff just as the bell rings, and makes a beeline for Byleth’s table to have a few choice words with her. “I can’t be partners with Shez.”
“What?” Byleth says, looking at Shez, who’s busy chatting up some other students and making them laugh. “Why not? Did she do something to you?”
Yes! screams the irrational part of Lysithea. She witnessed me in a moment of vulnerability and I have to fucking kill her so she takes the memory with her.
To her misfortune, the rational part wins out. “Well, not really, but—”
“Then I think you’ll be fine,” Byleth shrugs, filing her laptop away and turning off the projector. She says bye to the students passing by the table. “Seems like a good match to me. Shez is a good student. People can surprise you.”
-
“Then I asked him if they were using protection, you know, just to be sure, and he was like ‘why would we need protection in the bedroom? I can take the intruder down with my bare fists!’”
“No,” Dorothea manages after laughing for a good minute, wiping a tear from her eye before leaning back against the bleacher seats. “I’m not sure if we have to step in or if that statement alone means that he and Lin are never, ever having sex.”
Ever the gossip, Edelgard walks up to them, fresh from the showers after training, which had ended early today. “Who’s not having sex?”
“Caspar and Lin.” Dorothea beckons Edelgard over for a kiss. “Ready to go? Our reservation is at eight.”
“Let me just see the team off and then head back to dress up,” Edelgard says, wrapping her arm around Lysithea in a half hug. “And I’m happy this one’s joining us—you need a life outside of school!”
Lysithea shrugs off her arm with an almost fond eye roll. “I can have fun sometimes.”
Both Edelgard and Dorothea share a look, and before Lysithea can pointedly ask about it, someone jogs up to them as they step into the oval to head over to the exit.
“Cap! Looks like you’re doing something fun tonight.”
Lysithea is the furthest from an athlete as anyone can be, but she seriously considers running a lap and very much away from this exchange—Shez has a hand on Edelgard’s shoulder, greeting them, and recognizing Lysithea. “Oh, hey, partner!”
Edelgard looks between the two of them. “You two know each other?”
Shez gives her an enthusiastic “yeah!” just as Lysithea shakes her head. “What are you talking about? Byleth said we’re groupmates.”
“Ugh,” Lysithea says, pulling at Edelgard and Dorothea’s hands. “We’re late. Ferdinand’s circled the university parking lot because you know he would rather die than get sanctioned for loading in the wrong place.”
“Well, since you’re acquainted already, this is my girlfriend, Dorothea,” Edelgard gestures to her, and Dorothea gives her a very warm hello. “Good work today on the field, Shez. Let’s keep it up. See you on Monday.”
Shez gives them an unbelievably and irritatingly bright smile. Lysithea’s cheeks are warm from annoyance? Yes, annoyance. They start walking away. “See ya, cap! Nice meeting you, Dorothea. And I’ll see you around, Locker Room girl!”
Had Lysithea not walked ahead of Dorothea and Edelgard, she would have tackled the menace to the ground.
“What was that about?” Edelgard asks once they’ve caught up. Dorothea volunteers to take one of Edelgard’s bags for her with a silent gesture, but Edelgard misunderstands and takes all of them in one hand to hold Dorothea’s with the other. Sickening. “Locker Room girl?”
Lysithea tells them as they wait for Ferdinand and Hubert at the loading point, and much to her expected horror, Edelgard and Dorothea laugh, amused. Strangely enough, it’s rather fond and teasing, and not at all patronizing. “Oh, Ten Elites forbid you show any signs of vulnerability to anyone else,” Dorothea says.
She resists the urge to stomp her foot. “To a stranger, who is now apparently my partner for a stupid class Director Rhea made all of the faculty take!” She says, crossing her arms. “What is she teaching anyway?”
“She’s not teaching anything, though she may just be taking it for her electives,” Edelgard tells her. Ferdinand rolls in with his Jeep, and they take turns entering on the right side. “I think Byleth is also her dissertation adviser.”
“What a stupid excuse,” Lysithea replies, readying herself to be bombarded by Ferdinand’s sunny personality and showtunes playlist.
-
In the middle of her D&D session with Ferdinand, Bernadetta, Petra, and Sylvain, Lysithea gets a text message from Edelgard — can I give your number to Shez?
While Petra rolls, Lysithea types back a quick response. ? You obviously know the answer??? Don't ask me stupid questions.
She lets her phone sit silently in a corner while she writes down some important character details, in relation to Bernadetta's. Lys, pleaseeee, if she flunks this class because you won't cooperate, she'll be benched! We need to win whatever it takes.
Ugh. Edelgard truly loved to use Lysithea's soft spot for her.
Fine. If this backfires and I lose my scholarship, I'll be haunting you until I die, she says. Remember that.
Edelgard is over the moon. The GIF she sends, which is some graphics of flowers and glittery texts, tells her enough. She's a good student. I promise. Love you!
“Lys, you're on,” Sylvain nudges her, while writing down some new developments.
You're ruining my D&D session but I love you too, she sends and locks her phone.
-
+XX XXXXXXXX
Hey partner!
Got your num from cap ahaha
Lysithea
What do you want
Dont think you can text me for non work related stuff
Shez
Wow jeez prickly much
I just wanted to know your thoughts on the first term paper
I kinda wanted to discuss this
[link attached]
Lysithea
Oh
Yeah fine we can do that
Didnt peg you to get started early though
Shez
Hahaha understandable
Athletes get bad rep in group work for good reason but not me
I like to get started early since training takes up my time
Thanks! Ill get my part done. Have a good day 👍🏼