"Mister Fernandes?" A shy voice spoke quietly behind him.

"Hm?" He turned to see one of his kindergarten students, Wendy, wringing her hands and glancing toward the door that lead to the bathroom adjacent to his classroom. "What is it, Wendy?"

"Well…" The little girl chewed her lip as if debating whether or not to speak her mind. Jellal knew her to be a bit of an anxious child, and he didn't think she'd come to him on her own unless she felt the situation important. "It's Sting and Rogue, Mister Fernandes, they're fighting in the bathroom and I don't think you'll like it."

Jellal sighed and tried to smile at Wendy; it took a fierce effort to not gnash his teeth in anticipatory irritation. "Thank you for telling me, Wendy. Why don't you go back to your group, and I'll check on them, okay?" She smiled at him brightly and wandered off.

The bathroom looked as if several buckets of paint had exploded, and without the incoherent pattern of tiny handprints littering nearly every available surface that would've been his first assumption. The two boys stood amidst the mess glaring at one another. Jellal sighed heavily. He loved his job, he really did, but sometimes he wondered what in the hell was wrong with him that he would intentionally keep a profession that exposed him to such senseless madness. Five and six year olds were a mess.

"So which one of you is going to explain to me what's happening here?" He said sternly.

"It's all Rogue's fault!"

"Sting started it!"

Both boys spoke in unison and Jellal realized his mistake.

"Okay, never mind. I want the both of you to follow me to the nurse's office where you will shower this mess off." On the way out of his classroom Jellal tapped his aide on the shoulder. "Juvia, I need to go handle this, will you be okay alone for a little bit?"

"Of course, Mister Fernandes. If you'd like, I can take them for you?"

"No, it's fine. I need to speak with their parents myself." He grabbed both Sting and Rogue's backpacks and marched them through the halls of the school to the clinic. There would be nothing pleasant about commandeering Porlyusica's space, but he couldn't let these two troublesome boys spend the rest of their afternoon in dirty clothes and it felt like overkill to have them collected by guardians.

"Absolutely not." The school nurse crossed her arms over her chest and attempted to stare down Jellal. "My facilities are for emergencies only, and not to coddle children who have no sense of self-control." She glared at the two boys, who silently shrunk behind their teacher, before returning her ire to the man invading her clinic. "And I dare say you should let them remain in those filthy clothes as punishment."

"Well now, Porlyusica, that seems a little harsh don't you think? I wouldn't want to stain their hair or skin." Jellal leaned against the door frame of the clinic entrance. Sting and Rogue fidgeted nervously in the hallway; the nurse employed by the school often came across as scary when she had her feathers ruffled.

"You know as well as I do, Mister Fernandes, the paint used in the kindergarten classrooms is non-toxic and completely washable."

"We won't take up more than ten minutes of your time, and I'll make sure the shower is just as clean as we found it." He smiled his best smile. "By the way, is that a new sweater?"

Porlyusica narrowed her eyes menacingly. "Young man, I am twice your age and that flirting will get you nowhere." Jellal's smile fell; he should've known better. Finally she sighed dramatically. "Fine. Ten minutes, and you will make sure every drop of paint is down that drain." She turned on her heel and shut herself in her office.

Jellal breathed a sigh of relief, but cringed at the sound of Sting snickering behind him.

"Oh, my god, Mister Fernandes, you're so crazy!" He ushered the boys into the bathroom before Porlyusica changed her mind.

"You hush. I could still call your mother and send you home. Is that what you want?"

"Actually –"

"Just stop. You're in enough trouble for fighting again. The paint is a whole other level of wrong." Jellal pointed to the row of seats against the wall in the main clinic area. "Rogue you have a seat over there. Sting, I'm going to leave your backpack right here by the door. It has your clean clothes inside. Hurry up and get cleaned off."

"Mister Fernandes?" Rogue tugged on the edge of his shirt. He turned and the little boy gazed up at him sadly. Jellal sat next to him on the row of seats.

"Do you want to go ahead and give me your half of this story now?"

Rogue sighed and swung his feet back and forth. Even his shoes had a spatter of purple paint. "It- It was my fault, Mister Fernandes. I started the fight."

"Really, Rogue? That's so unlike you. What happened?"

"Well, I was washing the rinse cups in the bathroom like Miss Lockser asked me to and I accidentally spilled the dirty water on my shirt. See?" He pointed to a muddy-looking wet spot on his chest. "Sting saw it and laughed at me."

"I see."

"I didn't mean to push him… it just kind of happened." Rogue bowed his head and picked at the hem of his shorts. "My mom is going to be so mad at me for ruining my clothes." He sniffled and Jellal felt horrible.

"Listen, Rogue, I'm going to have to tell your mom about the fighting, but I know there's a washing machine in the athletics department that the older kids use. We'll see if Coach Redfox will let us borrow it, okay?"

"Really?" Rogue's eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

"Yep. And if it's being used we'll still rinse the paint out in our big classroom sink. I promise we'll fix your clothes."

"You're the best, Mister Fernandes!" The boy wiped his tears and smeared paint across his face. At that moment Sting trudged from the bathroom looking like a wet cat – despite his clean, dry clothes.

"Go ahead and take your turn in the shower, Rogue. Sting and I need to have a chat." Jellal turned to the blonde boy next to him and leaned back in his chair.

"I know what you're gonna say," Sting mumbled.

"You do?"

"Yep. You're gonna call my mom and tell me I need more self-control." Sting exhaled heavily and glanced up at him. "My mom says I'm just like my dad and get fired up too easily."

"Well I wouldn't argue with your mom on that point."

"She says I need to think more before doing stuff."

"She's right about that, too."

"I didn't mean to make Rogue mad like that." He shrugged. "I just thought it was funny is all."

"Rogue was very upset about it, and I think you laughing at him made the situation worse than it needed to be."

"Well he shouldn't be so touchy!"

"Sting, it's important to be mindful of other people's feelings. Rogue isn't like you. Things don't just roll off him. Some people need more care than others, you know? You've really got to pay attention to how your words and actions might make others feel."

"My mom told my dad once that he should think more and say less."

Jellal stifled a laugh. He'd met Sting's father on two occasions, and it was obvious where the boy got his somewhat aggressive nature. "Your mom sounds like a smart woman."

Sting shrugged. "I think she's just used to my dad being so dumb sometimes."

"Listen, here's what's going to happen. We're going to take your dirty clothes to the locker room the big kids use, and see if we can't wash them. Then, we'll go back to my office and call your parents."

"Do you think Rogue will be mad at me forever? He's the only friend I've got."

Jellal smiled. "I think if you apologize to him, and mean it, he'll be alright. Remember what I said, though. He's more sensitive than you and friends need to look out for one another. Okay?"

"Thanks, Mister Fernandes."

Gajeel Redfox was not Jellal's favorite person. He was loud and brash and the kids all loved him, but his seemingly hinged jaw set Jellal on edge. Sting and Rogue weren't old enough to have a reason to wander in and out of the athletics locker rooms regularly and were thoroughly impressed by the facilities. They trailed behind him as tried to locate the head coach.

"Yo, Fernandes! What's a guy like you doing down here on my turf, huh?" Gajeel's voice carried and echoed off the cinderblock walls of the locker room. "Hey there, tiny dudes. You're kinda small to be throwing footballs and soccer balls around, but come see me in a few years." Sting and Rogue had stars in their eyes and nodded emphatically. Jellal tried not to let his own eyes roll into the back of his head.

"Could I maybe borrow your laundry facility for a load of clothes that have paint all over them?"

Gajeel laughed loudly. "Did you have a battle break out in your classroom, Fernandes? I don't know how you handle the little ones all day." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Sure you can use the washer, just don't forget about the stuff you put in there. Things get lost easily down here." The coach stepped past them and waved at the two small boys before walking off. "Later, half-pints!"

"Wow," Rogue mumbled.

"He's so cool!" Sting gushed.

"Yeah, well…" Jellal trailed off. Better to practice his own rules of not making un-kind comments than let some repeatable – and regrettable – comment slip in front of a boy like Sting who said all manner of things completely off the cuff.

He let the boys toss in their own dirty clothes before starting the cycle and setting a reminder on his phone to come back and switch them to the dryer.

"Okay, boys, let's go. Everything should be clean and dry by the time you go home today. After lunch we'll call your parents." They followed him back to his classroom and he found that Juvia, bless her, had cleaned the bathroom of all paint remnants.

It was only ten in the morning and Jellal desperately wished for a nap.

Sting's mother, Lucy, was a long-suffering woman, Jellal decided. Her husband was quick of temper and tongue but short on common sense. He explained what happened with her son and Rogue, and she was very apologetic and understanding. Lucy thanked him for attempting to explain to salvage Sting's friendship with Rogue and confirmed that the wild-ish little boy had a hard time making friends.

Rogue's mother wasn't available to speak with him and he could only leave her a voice message. Jellal was pretty sure the woman picked her son up from the school herself everyday so he would personally sit with Rogue after the final bell and wait for her. He assured Rogue he wasn't in trouble, on his end at least, and together they inspected his clean clothes. When the boy was satisfied they were spotless he carefully folded them and placed them in his backpack.

Jellal hadn't ever met Rogue's father and there was no mention of him in the boy's file. He'd been out sick the day Rogue had been enrolled so he hadn't met his mother in person either. It was obvious when she showed up, though, because Rogue's eyes brightened and he ran to her. Jellal tried not to stare. The woman was stunning and when she smiled at him his mouth went completely dry.

"I just got your voicemail, Mister Fernandes, and I am so sorry for missing your call."

"Uh, no, no it's fine. We resolved the situation and –" he cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's all fine… now." Jellal had a master's degree in early education and child development with a minor in pedagogy and Rogue's mother had effectively reduced him to a stuttering mess.

"I know that Rogue and Sting have an odd friendship, and I truly appreciate you trying to cultivate it. My son can be pretty shy. I'm glad he has a friend."

He cleared his throat and tried to focus on anything but her inviting brown eyes, and red hair that practically glowed in the sunlight. "Right, well, kids at this age don't always display the most appropriate social behaviors. They get along with each other most of the time, and I think today was just a spiral of events."

"Regardless, I'm grateful." She knelt down to her son's level. "Why don't you wait for me in the car, okay?" Rogue waved at Jellal before climbing into his mother's back seat. She turned back to him and stepped closer. "Listen, it's been really hard for Rogue since his father died last year –"

"Oh! Oh, I had no idea…"

"It's fine. I mean, they weren't incredibly close, and to be honest he wasn't around very much anyway. I think, though, Rogue had a fantasy that Bacchus would clean up his act and be a better dad at some point. He's taking the reality of it as well as he can, but I can't force him out of his shell."

"He's a pretty sensitive kid, but once he gets into something he likes he'll let people in. He and Sting are a good pair, I think. Sting needs to take things down a notch, and Rogue needs a little push sometimes."

"He does. I'm grateful he has a teacher who's so intuitive. Thank you so much, Mister Fernandes." She reached out to shake his hand, and he took it. He didn't want to let go.

"I look forward to seeing how the rest of the year plays out for him Miss…"

"Call me Erza." She smiled at him once more before releasing his hand and joining her son in the car.

"Right. Erza."