Swords were simple. And their simplicity in purpose combined with the complexity required for mastery was a comfort to Felix. It was that utilitarian approach that usually allowed him to empty his mind of all distractions. But really, any weapon would do so long as its bearer was strong and skilled.

A faint breeze ruffled the swordsman's hair as he sat atop a weathered crate behind the stables. Felix ran a dry cloth across his sword and stared back at his reflection in the blade with a quiet frown. Despite his best efforts, today's distractions were especially obstinate, and it was hampering his progress.

That afternoon's training session played back through his mind in an endless loop. His footwork was shoddy, and he knew his stance was full of openings. The look of surprise and disappointment on the professor's face was less than favorable.

No matter how much Felix tried, it felt impossible to keep his thoughts clear and focused. With each clash of his blade, a certain tune insisted on flitting through his mind. He crossed his leg over his knee, his foot idly bouncing to the tempo with each wipe of the cleaning cloth across his blade.

"Geez, Felix, you really took that old adage to heart-you know the one about wearing the same expression so long that it's permanently stuck?"

"Sylvain," the swordsman tsked irritably as his childhood stepped out from the shade of the stable overhang. "What do you want?"

"What? Do you always have to assume I'm looking for something? Maybe I'm just keeping an eye on you!"

"That's not necessary."

"Heh, maybe," Sylvain flashed a cheeky grin and ran a hand through his hair. "Actually, I really was coming to check on you. And not because of that perpetually sour frown."

Felix rolled his eyes. "Get to the point, Sylvain. I'm busy."

"Fine, I'll cut to the chase," Sylvain folded his arms. "It's about your form earlier. I'll be blunt-it was pretty poor. Definitely not what I would expect from you."

"Oh, so now you're taking training seriously?" he grunted in reply and resumed cleaning the same spot on his blade. Sylvain's words stung more than Felix preferred. He knew his friend was right, and his form as of late was sloppy. He leaned over his sword and continued cleaning with more fervor than before, as if scouring the blade with the rag would somehow wipe clean the mental fog impacting his performance.

The redhead sighed. "Come on now, I'm actually being serious for once. I've known you long enough to tell when your head's not in the game. I know it was a surprise to see the professor return after so many years, but-"

"Sylvain, what do you know about song magic?"

"Eh?"

"Tch, is your hearing going now?"

"No, I heard you," Sylvain raised an eyebrow. "Not sure if I follow though. I'm not aware of any song-related spells. Are you looking to ask the professor about changing your class?"

"It's nothing like that. Forget I asked."

Sylvain leaned against the stable wall, still observing his childhood friend with mild interest. After a moment of silence he chuckled to himself. "Ah. 'Crumbs and yums,' am I right?"

The cleaning rag in Felix's hand crumpled. "...What?"

"You were humming it to yourself when I came over. That's what this is about, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Felix scowled and sheathed his blade. "You heard nothing."

"You know, there's a word for that kind of phenomenon. I believe it's called an earworm," Sylvain grinned as he wiggled a mischievous eyebrow. "Not the most flattering phrase, but I can assure you, it's just a catchy tune, no magic shenanigans."

"It wouldn't be the first time you were wrong about something," Felix retorted. This conversation was starting to veer in a direction he was less than pleased about.

"Nah, I'm pretty sure I'm correct about this one. I had the privilege of hearing that particular melody in the halls a few days back."

Felix grunted again and studied the woodgrain of the stable wall. Bringing this topic up to Sylvain of all people felt like a terrible idea in retrospect, and he was already regretting even making mention. The swordsman inwardly groaned at his lack of forethought.

It was just his luck that Sylvain happened to accidentally come upon Annette singing that song. The exact same song Felix personally spent over a week seeking out an encore performance, and of course he wasn't about to explicitly ask. It didn't seem right to approach her and ask to hear it again, especially after she usurped his assigned chores and ordered he wipe the melody from his memory-a demand he had no intention of complying with, even if it did render him 'the evilest of villains.'

As if it would be that easy to forget in the first place…

"You know, the last time I happened upon the professor and Annette on kitchen duty, she was singing about dish soap of all things," Sylvain continued, "I'm pretty sure the professor was still humming it a week later, so even he's not completely immune," he flashed another charming grin. "If all it takes is a catchy tune from a pretty girl to let your guard down during training, you better keep that detail to yourself or someone's gonna exploit it the next time we're sparring!"

"Whatever. I should've known not to waste my time asking you."

"Fine, fine," Sylvain waved a lazy hand. The hint of a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "There's only one cure for a really bad earworm, though..."

"There is?" he asked, his voice rising a bit higher than he would've liked.

"You'll just have to hear the song again in full, of course."