"O-Oh, hey there, professor! Didn't expect for you to come visit me."

The golden rays of the fading sun filtered through the window, casting wispy shadows throughout Caspar's bedroom. The boy in question was propped against his headboard in a sitting position, cocky grin ever-present even despite the bandages wrapped around his midsection and arm. His professor stood as still as could be, almost statuesque in posture. It was a bit of a surprise to Caspar, as while most of the class had come in to either give him well-wishes or chastise him for his error in combat, the professor had been absent throughout all of it.

"Good evening, Caspar." Byleth spoke with his blank tone, crossing his arms, and then uncrossing them just as fast. Caspar would have laughed if it weren't for the serious expression on his face – although admittedly, the professor's face was always serious. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yep! Well, not really, but we're getting there! Looks like healing magic has its limits, huh?" The blue haired boy forced a chuckle as he tried to shift positions, a twinge of pain flaring through his broken arm and ribs. From how Linhardt tried to explain it to him, it sounded like the process would be a lot faster, but it couldn't heal broken bones instantly.

To be honest, that sucked! He felt so confined in this bed, he just wanted to get free and let lose! His eyes flashed down to his bruised fists, and the small scars across his fingers and knuckles. Merits of his training – training that was being halted by silly things such as physical limitations! Before he could think about it further, the professor cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I came to apologize for my negligence." Caspar's eyes widened, and he had to stop himself from reaching out. What the hell was the professor talking about? Judging by the way his eyes lingered on Caspar's cast, he was able to figure that out immediately.

"Professor, you didn't do anything wrong! It was my fault that the dude got me – not yours!"

"As your teacher, I should have the battlefield under constant surveillance. I should know where you are, and where the enemies are. This ensures the best tactical advantage, and not only that, but the safety of all of you."

Caspar went to speak, but Byleth shot him a dark look that made him shut right up. He also noted that the professor had not included himself in that end part, making a frown come over Caspar's face.

"To add to this, if I were a better teacher, I would have been able to instruct you on ways to counter that strike before it had happened. It sometimes slips my mind that you are not more experienced, and that is a failing on my behalf, not yours."

Byleth reached into a bag that Caspar hadn't noticed was at his side and began to rifle around in it for something. Caspar gulped as he considered the man's words – in fact, he would go to say that he had never heard the professor talk this much before. Caspar wasn't the most observant of people, but even he was able to spot a tightness to Byleth's jaw that hadn't been there earlier in the day.

"Hey, that's what training is for, huh?" He tried to divert the subject a bit, gesturing with his free arm despite the pain it caused his ribs. "When I heal up, you best believe I'll be out there, putting in 120%! I'm not gonna get hit like that again! You gotta realize, professor, you're a great teacher—I wouldn't be nearly as good if you weren't the one teaching! Although, I bet I could get preeeeetty damn close."

Caspar was hoping that the grin across his face would make some crack in the professor's stony expression, but alas, it was a wasted effort. He didn't know what he expected, really – not even Dorothea could knock him off guard!

After a few more seconds of digging, Byleth pulled out what appeared to be a pair of gauntlets, ones that looked far, far more expensive than the pair resting on Caspar's desk on the other side of the room. His eyes immediately lit up, and he went forward to snatch them from Byleth's hands, and yet his ribs caused him to yelp in pain at the action. Reluctantly, he returned to his sitting position, and looked back up at Byleth.

Huh, did I see his face twitch just now? Must have been my imagination.

"These aren't for now; these are for when you recover. In the meantime, I will be focusing on improving myself so I can be a better teacher to you. You are a very talented student, and I wish to be at my best in order to help you grow successfully…and to prevent this from ever happening again." Byleth walked forward and set them on Caspar's bedside table, being sure to put them just a little bit out of his reach.

Curses!

"Ugh, can't I at least hold them? I have a free arm!" He went to wave it again to make a point, but Byleth's hand flashed out to stop him, clasping around his wrist.

"No, Caspar. Get better soon."

Byleth bowed his head towards the boy, removing his hand from Caspar's wrist and going to exit the room, but not before turning around for one last thing.

"…did you just pat my head, professor?"

"I was told that this was an appropriate gesture for an injured child."

"You can't be THAT much older than me—wait, how old are you?"

"That's a secret."

As the glow of late afternoon faded into the inky darkness of night, Caspar found himself puzzled as laid in his bed. It had been an interesting challenge maneuvering himself onto his back, but after one of the nurses gave him some assistance when they stopped by to give him food, he was left listening to the chirping of birds and distant conversation that drifted in from his open window.

"Uuuuuugh, where's Linhardt?"

He couldn't help but say this aloud, bored out of his mind. The green haired boy had popped in some time ago, leaving just as quickly but promising that he'd be back later. Caspar had begged him to use additional healing magic, but the boy had quietly told him that it wouldn't make the bones fix themselves quicker – it was only useful for cuts and exhaustion, which infuriated Caspar endlessly.

Caspar was brought out of his silent anger towards his best friend by a short scream from somewhere outside in the monastery, making him flinch and groan when his ribs and arm protested the action. He wanted to surge up from the bed and rush towards the scene, but he knew he wouldn't be able to make it far at all, making him silently seethe as his wounded body taunted him. Instead, he shut his eyes and tried to do something Linhardt joked about his inability to do – he attempted to listen.

Other than the chirping of birds, it's silent now. Was there a prank? An accident? I couldn't even tell who was screaming…ah, there's footsteps in the distance. Maybe someone's going to check it out? Whew, that's good – I wouldn't be able to make it out of here like this! Damnit, body, heal faster! I'm sick of this already!

After resigning himself to his fate, he realized that his friend probably wouldn't show up again with how late it had become, and therefore leaned back into his pillow and awaited the dark clutches of sleep to pull him into its arms. However, this was denied to him by the sound of a distant, heavy door slamming shut, and the voice of one of his classmates calling out.

"H-Help! I need a healer! A professor's been hurt! Someone, please get a teacher, or anybody!"

It took a monumental amount of effort for Caspar to not fling himself out of bed, and through his door.

A teacher is hurt? What the hell could have happened?!

Well, hey there guys! It's been a hot minute, huh? Turns out that the college semester is mighty taxing, and it's kicking my goddamn ass. Thankfully, we've moved past the second one, and I'm now on the third – and it's safe to say that it's not as bad as the first one.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and you can expect new ones from me in the future! We had some waifus in the first few chapters, so I figured I should spice things up with good ol' Caspar – silly boy, getting his bones broken. We love him.

With that in mind, I hope you all have a great day!