Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem Three Houses, all rights to the owners.

So, since I've done the Silver Snow pathway, I'll do the Church staff/other professors now. Time for more social incompetence! It'll be a bit different since these people aren't his students, but that just means I can go at it from a different angle. I think this will be a bit more difficult though, as the student-teacher dynamic was key to making Byleth work…

We'll see how it goes.

"Does she like cake?"

"Erm…"

"Potatoes?"

"Professor."

"Salt?"

"When I said I would answer your questions about the goddess, I meant spiritual questions." Rhea coughs. "I am not privy to the… dietary preferences of our goddess."

Byleth pauses his questioning, stares for a second, then says. "You said you know this goddess well, right?"

"Indeed."

"She's your mother, right?"

"Well, she's everyone's mother…"

"Right, so she's family." Byleth says simply. "And I'd be a bad son if I didn't know my mother's favourite food, right?"

The archbishop takes a long, deep breath, and exhales to steady herself. "She is far too above this world to be bothered with such simple things as food preferences."

Byleth blinks. "Have you asked her?"

"Pardon?"

"Have you asked her what food she likes?"

"It's not that simple." Rhea tries to explain. "She does not answer such base questions."

"You don't know." Byleth insists. "You've never asked. What if she likes pancakes, but is too shy to ask for them, and is just waiting for someone to ask?"

The archbishop's mouth twitches. If this were anyone else she would think she was intentionally being mocked, but she knows Byleth doesn't mean anything by it.

Probably.

"Well, perhaps you should ask her then." Rhea says as calmly as possible.

Byleth is again quiet for a moment, then says quietly. "You don't actually know her at all, do you?"

Unless she's hearing things, Rhea could swear she hears disappointment in his voice, as if she's the one doing something wrong. It takes all her patience not to (politely) ask him to leave. "That is not true. I am well acquainted with even the most obscure of our goddess's legends and commandments."

"Sure." Byleth says, unphased. "But that's her public persona, like me talking about my father's job. What about her favourite color?"

The archbishop has had quite enough. She stands up, says: "pardon me, I have another arrangement" and leaves as quickly as she can.

###

"Fight me."

"Pardon?"

"Fight me." Byleth repeats. "You are the fencing instructor. I want to see if my skills are any good. Assess me."

Jeritza eyes the other man warily. Byleth's eccentricities are well known to him, as well as his philosophy on combat. "No biting, no groin strikes, no eye gouging. This is a spar."

"Fine." Byleth blinks.

Already being in the training pit, the two grab training swords and put on the necessary protective training armor. Jeritza settles into a low stance, while Byleth stands normally with his sword limp by his side.

"Ready when you are." Byleth says.

Jeritza narrows his eyes. "Begin."

The way Byleth fights is both normal, but very unusual in its normalness. He uses only the most basic of sword techniques: simple slashes, thrusts, and blocks; but he makes such effective use of those simple moves that he doesn't need anything more complicated. Jertizta's swift, complex attacks are often stopped by a few simple shifts of Byleth's blade.

It's undeniable, however, that Jeritza has the upper hand. He may be foiled constantly, but he also possesses the constant offensive momentum that never allows Byleth to counterattack. Byleth's simple movements also mean that any attacks he does manage are effortlessly blocked because of how obvious and predictable they are.

It takes a few minutes of failed attempts, but Jeriza eventually manages to snake a thrust past Byleth's defence and tap him in the hip. The two men step back from each other, allowing their swords to drop.

"Curious." Jeritza frowns. "You're very… basic, but for someone so basic, you're remarkably skilled in defence. Your unwillingness to string together consecutive attacks, or use any sort of complicated movement, makes for a brute-force style that your lacklustre physical strength is ill-suited for.

"Ah." Byleth blinks.

"Your defence, however, is quite effective. You need not change that."

"Understood." Byleth nods. "I am satisfied."

Jeritza raises an eyebrow. "You are settling for only this?"

"No. I wasn't able to fight as I normally would." Byleth says. "Normally, I would have just stabbed you with my dagger while blocking with my sword." He pats the dagger on his belt. "Or punched you, or tripped you, or kicked you, or headbutted you, or used magic, or-"

"I get it." Jertiza says sharply. "You would not have beaten me even if you did so."

"Sure."

"I mean it!"

"Okay."

The masked swordsman feels like he's being mocked. Byleth seems totally uncaring about Jeritza's insistence that he's better than the man. He brushes it off as if he has no respect for Jeritza's skill.

Of course, that's just Byleth's usual blank look at work, but Jeritza doesn't interact with the man enough to realize that. He's avoided the new teacher just as much as he avoids everyone else.

"Feh." Jeriza turns away sharply. He tosses his training sword aside, strips out of his padding, and strides out of the area.

###

"Professor." Seteth sighs.

"Yes?"

"When I said you should lighten up your lessons a bit, I didn't mean you should hang lanterns all around your classroom."

"Oh."

"I meant you should consider not only talking about the numerous ways they can die."

"But that's my job."

"Your job is to teach them tactics, strategy, and how to fight. Not to spend twenty minutes describing the innumerable ways they could die a grisly death on the battlefield." Seteth says dryly. "Your job is not to traumatize them, it's to help them prepare for the battlefield. While a discussion of death is inevitable and necessary, there is no need to unduly terrify them."

"Oh."

"And, I should repeat, I told you to stop breaking into your students' rooms. Yet I've been hearing rumors of you intruding upon Edelgard in the early hours of the morning, including picking the lock to her door."

"She wasn't eating breakfast." Byleth says simply. "I'm fixing that."

"By breaking into her room?"

"Yes."

There's no explanation. Just "yes". As much as Seteth doesn't approve, he also doesn't doubt Byleth is telling the truth.

"Does Edelgard complain?"

"Yes."

"Vehemently?"

"No."

Edelgard doesn't approve, but she allows her professor to keep up his behavior. If Hubert hasn't brought it to the attention of anyone else, then it must be relatively fine, as there is almost certainly no way Hubert isn't aware of this.

Seteth sighs. "Fine. Please just ask her for a spare key though. There's no need to break into her room every morning."

"Okay."

"One last thing…"

"Hmm?"

"I have heard tell that Flayn has been… interacting with some of the young men around here." Seteth says slowly. "And have also heard tell that some of them may have attempted advances on her. If you see this, I implore you to put a stop to it, and inform the boys of their peril. I shall not have any young man set a finger on my sister."

Byleth blinks. "Okay."

"Good."

###

"Flayn."

"Professor." Flayn nods, smiling.

"Come here." Byleth beckons.

Flayn pauses. Byleth is currently standing in one of the smaller alleyways, shadowed by an overhang above him, and waving her over with small beckons of one hand. His other hand is hidden behind his back.

It looks very creepy to be honest, and if it were anyone but Byleth Flayn would have promptly turned around and run in the other direction. Knowing how peculiar Byleth is, however, she's confident he had no ill intent, and so walks over to him. "What is it?"

"I got this." The man shows her what he was hiding behind his back. It's a massive teautates herring on the end of a sharp stick. "This is the one you wanted, right?"

"Yes! It is!" Flayn says eagerly. "My gratitude Professor! This will be a perfect meal for the feast!"

The green-haired girl removes the herring from the end of the stick, having no aversion to handling the thing with her bare hands. "Did you catch this with only your stick?"

"Yes."

"That is quite impressive! You never cease to amaze Professor. I wish I were so skilled."

"It is not hard. I can teach you."

"Truly?"

"Yes."

"My evermost thanks Professor!" She exclaims. "Incidentally, I have a question."

"Yes?"

"Why did you beckon me from the alley? Is there some reason for such secrecy?"

"Not secrecy. I am following your brother's rules."

Flayn blinks. "Rules?"

"Yes. He said that young men were not allowed to approach you, and being a young man, I could not come up and give you the fish. Instead, I had to make you approach me." Byleth explains.

The girl's brow furrows. Her voice is noticeably tense. "Oh really? What else did my brother say?"

"He said to inform any boy that attempted to do so of their peril." Byleth's eyes glance up to see a boy, Ashe, happen to walk close to them. "Your shoe is untied!"

The grey-haired boy startles, spots Byleth staring at him, glances at his shoe (seeing that it really is untied) and waves to show his thanks before fixing the problem.

"Like that." Byleth says with totally honesty. "He approached you, and I told him of what he was in peril of."

Flayn isn't sure if she should laugh or groan. "Right. Of course." She coughs. Her brother chose the worst possible person to ask for help. She doesn't know if she should tell him what Seteth actually meant, or just let Byleth go one believing he's literally not allowed to step towards her and has to warn people of their "peril" rather than tell them to stay away from her.

In the end though, she decides it would be rude to let Byleth go on believing the wrong thing.

"Professor, when my brother said not to allow young men to approach me, he did not mean that they were not allowed to walk towards me."

"He didn't?"

"No, he was saying that he does not want them to make romantic overtures at myself. Flirting."

"Ah." Byleth frowns. "Why?"

Flayn raises an eyebrow. He questions why Seteth doesn't want her flirted with, but he didn't question not being allowed to walk in her direction? "He thinks I'm too young."

"How old are you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does." Byleth says flatley. "This is about maturity, age, yes?"

"Well…" He's not wrong. "I'm old enough."

"And how old is that?"

"Older than you."

Byleth pauses, thinks about it, then nods. "Okay."

"So, do you agree with my brother?"

"I don't know."

"Pardon?"

"Flirting is not my expertise." Byleth says bluntly. "So I don't know how old you should be."

"So… just don't pass judgement then!" Flayn suggests. "If you don't know, should you really be listening to Seteth?"

Byleth considers this for a moment. "Maybe."

"Pardon?"

"He is your older brother, he is looking out for your best interests."

"But he's overbearing!"

"Perhaps…"

"Look, I want to be allowed to flirt if I want to, alright!?"

"Okay." Byleth blinks. "Be careful."

"Of course."

"So… if men are allowed to lay fingers on you, then I don't have to avoid touching you?"

"No, you don't."

"Okay." As if just to test that it's true, he reaches forward and pokes her in the cheek. "Hmm…"

"What?"

"You're soft." He says. He moves his hand to her hair. "And fluffy."

Flayn snorts. "Professor."

"Yes?"

"What you're doing right now is exactly what my brother is worried about." She chuckles. "Creepily fluffing my hair while looming over me."

Byleth pauses. "I'm… creepy?"

"Not once one knows who you are." Flayne reassures quickly. "From a distance though… you probably do."

"Oh." His says. "So if we just stay close to other people, I won't look creepy?"

"When I said 'from a distance', I meant when people don't know who you are."

"Oh." Byleth stops what he's doing.

"Don't stop!" Flayn huffs. "Seteth never does this…"

"He doesn't?"

"He's… stiff. Formal. And he always has been." Flayn huffs. "He never even let me have a piggyback ride!"

Without further prompting, Byleth scoops up the girl and puts her on his shoulders. "Where are we going?"

"To the mess hall! We need to get this fish cooked!"

"Okay."

###

"Erm… when I said I needed some blood, I just meant a drop." Hanneman coughs.

"Oh."

"Really Professor, you must be more sensible about such things." Manuela huffs as she heals the slash on the man's arm. "You cannot be so careless!"

"I wasn't. I've suffered worse." Byleth says neutrally.

"Be that as it may, it is a bad habit to think in such a way." Manuela berates. "Simply because you can do something, does not mean you should. You are a mercenary, you should know well the price of recklessness."

Byleth thinks on it, then nods in agreement. "Okay."

"However, this quantity of blood, excessive as it may be, will be sufficient for my research." Hanneman hums. "With this I will hopefully be able to get a better grasp on your crest."

"Okay."

"There is another matter." Manuela says as she finishes the healing. "Professor, some of your students are worried about you."

"I am mentally sound." Byleth says, as if he expects this.

"Well, there was that…" Manuela coughs. "However, some of your students are noting signs of exhaustion in you professor. I do know you are busy, however you must take time to rest."

Byleth pauses. "No"

"Pardon?"

"Rest comes when the job allows it. The job comes first. You can't sleep on guard duty because you're tired, you sleep after the job is done. This is the same case. You sleep when you've done what's needed for the day."

"Such a mindset, while perhaps appropriate for mercenary work, is not infinitely sustainable in a school setting." Hanneman berates. "While during important times, such as marking exams, such a mindset may be necessary, during the normal school week you must pace yourself to avoid burnout."

Byleth blinks. "That would mean I would have to stop doing things."

"Well yes."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. You're not on a mission. Not all tasks are essential." Hanneman huffs. "For example, you need not check in on every single student every single day."

"I don't?"

"No. While certainly it is our duty to look out for the health and progress of our students, asking such a thing each and every day is wholly unnecessary."

"Oh."

"You, I assume, have been personally checking in with everyone every single day, have you not?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps consider cutting it down to once a week. Unless, of course, there is cause for concern with a particular student."

"Okay…"

###

"Need a sponge?"

Cyril pauses what he's doing (cleaning off one of the many statues around the monastery) and stares at the professor. "Do you… just carry those around with you?"

"Not usually."

"So why are you carrying them around now?"

"I was cleaning them, and getting new water." He says simply.

"Right." The boy says slowly. He asks himself if he really wants to know why this guy has a bunch of sponges, and decides he'll be better off not asking. "Sure, I'll take a sponge."

He accepts the offered sponge, and starts using it to scrub. It's much more effective than the cloth he was using beforehand, cutting his work down by half.

"I've got a few more statues to do…" Cyril says slowly after he finishes his current task. "Could I borrow this…?"

"You're already borrowing it."

"Can I keep borrowing it?"

"That's just keeping it."

"No- ugh…" Cyril sees why so many people call this professor weird. "Just until I'm done with the statues. For the day."

Byleth stares at the boy for a second, and then nods. "Return it by dusk. I need it for my lesson tomorrow."

Cyril is thankful he didn't ask, because that response doesn't make this man seem any less strange.

###

"Hah- you're the real deal, huh?" Catherine laughs as she locks training swords with the man.

"Yes, I am not a hallucination." Byleth responds calmly.

"And just as literal as the others claimed I-" She's cut off by the man's leg suddenly snapping up in a kick that almost breaks her nose. She just barely bobs her head out of the way. "-and just as pragmatic as they claimed as well."

The professor doesn't respond. He disengages their swords to put some distance between the two of them. He stares blankly at her, giving no emotional response to anything going on.

"Not much for banter, huh?"

"Needless distraction." He responds curtly. "In combat, speak only to convey orders, information, or other things of key importance."

"You really are well-trained." Catherine praises. She lunges back in, battering the man with a series of rapid strikes. He looks like some sort of golem with his total lack of reaction as he precisely blocks each attack.

His response comes in the form of a kick to her shins (which she manages to backstep) followed by an obvious swing of his own (which she blocks) and a sudden body-slam to take advantage of both their swords being slightly off to the side of their bodies.

"But-" Catherine grunts as she regains her footing. Her free hand snaps out to grab his collar, uses her superior strength to pull him forwards and off-balance, and disarms him now that he can't move his arms easily. "You still have things to learn."

She was expecting the fight to end there. He's in no position to fight back. Yet fight back he does. He pulls back his head and slams it forwards, headbutting her. Catherine reels for a moment from the pain, and Byleth capitalizes by kneeing her in the groin and following up with a haymaker straight to the face.

"Speak for yourself." He says calmly.

Before Catherine recovers, he knocks her sword from her hands. She brings up her hands and settles into a stance. She can feel blood starting to trickle from her nose, and the beginning of a black eye forming. Byleth is not faster than her nor stronger, but he does have one advantage: technique.

Despite what his primary weapon would suggest, Byleth's skills lie more in brawling than they do swords. Now the two are in his area of expertise.

Catherine quickly realizes this for herself. Byleth understands the use of momentum in a fight. A punch is stronger when your entire body is moving with it. He never once lets her off the backfoot, and that more than makes up for his relative lack of speed or strength.

He always seems to know where to aim. Usually it's the face, sometimes it's the groin, and if it's not either of those things it's because she's done something incredibly stupid that gives him a huge advantage.

In short, because she lost her sword, the fight ends with her pressed up against a wall, her nose bleeding profusely after several haymakers to the face, and her vision going blurry from either blood loss, pain, or probably both.

It's not even that which ends the fight. It's Shamir coming in and seeing her Catherine badly beaten, and then calling on the guards and trying to attack Byleth.

###

"So, uh…" Alois says. "You're certainly not the lot I expected."

Byleth stares blankly at the man, and Catherine crosses her arms with a frown on her face. A moment later she hisses when Maunela starts the healing.

"Honestly you two…" Manuela sighs. "You take training too seriously."

"I didn't know he'd keep fighting." Catherine huffs defensively.

"She said she wanted to spar. We sparred." Byleth remarks. "Until one of us could not fight any longer."

"You beat her within an inch of her life." Manuela corrects in a scolding tone.

"Exactly. Until she couldn't fight any longer." Byleth repeats, as if that's perfectly normal. "She set the terms."

"Really?" Maunela says with narrowed eyes.

"I did…" Catherine admits reluctantly. "I didn't expect him to take it so literally."

"Yes, well… that's basically all he does." Alois coughs. "Did we not tell you about that?"

"I thought you were exaggerating."

"Oh, that we wish we were…" Manuela mutters.

"I would use exaggeration, but it would go right over Byleth's head." Alois jokes. It's barely a joke, but Byleth glancing up for a moment like he expects something to be there makes the knight snort with barely-contained laughter.

"I see…" Catherine says slowly. Her face is looking a bit less beaten thanks to Manuela's healing.

"Good. I was worried I may have damaged your eyes." Byleth says.

"No, I mean that I understand."

"Oh."

Alois gives Catherine a look, saying: "see what I mean?" Catherine sighs and nods.

Shamir, who has watched this whole thing, just purses her lips and doesn't comment.

###

"How was your week?"

"Good."

"Your students?"

"Good."

"Any problems?"

"I sparred with Catherine. Apparently we were supposed to stop when I lost my sword."

"Ah… that's where Catherine's bruises came from." Jeralt thinks to himself. "Are you enjoying your time here so far? I know it's been hard settling in."

"I'm… busy." Byleth says with a slow blink. "But it is rewarding to teach."

"Good." Jeralt smiles. "Are you getting along with your students?"

"I think so." Byleth says. "But I think they consider me strange."

"They'll get used to you." Jeralt reassures. "After long enough."

"I hope so." The professor mumbles.

Jeralt feels for his son, he really does. The boy has never made a close friend due to his oddities. As much as Jeralt doesn't feel comfortable being a knight of Seiros again, he was hoping the teaching position for Byleth would be a chance to meet people his age… although, he'll admit, the power dynamic is a bit off due to Byleth being their professor.

It's far better than the almost total social isolation (beyond Jeralt's mercenaries) that Byleth suffered before due to people avoiding him, but Jeralt does wish Byleth could be on more even footing with the people around him. A friendship is what the boy needs.

Still, this is workable. Any positive relationships are better than none.

Jeralt learns forward, and puts a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'm happy for you Kid. You're taking good care of them. I'm sure they'll return the favor."

"It is not their job to take care of me. I will have failed as a teacher should that be the case."

Jeralt snorts. "You're barely older than them, and as much as you like to think otherwise, you're not much more mature. You need just as much taking care of as they do."

Byleth's silent stare may unnerve other people, but Jeralt recognizes it for what it is: a pout.

"Don't give me that look. You know I'm right."

This was different… and I'm not quite sure how I feel about it. Is it as good as the first chapter? Probably not. I hope you all still enjoy it though.