Within a few minutes of being outside, he was wading through a seemingly endless wave of black uniformed students and white-robed monks who all seemed amazed and frightened of him at the same time. He stared ahead, yet out of the corner of his gaze he could see hundreds of eyes latching onto him. The stone path he was on was congested yet everyone still tried to give him a wide berth, many shoving their way onto the long grass on either side to avoid him.

He thought about his immediate goal as professor of the Black Eagles, to try and lead them to victory in the upcoming mock battle, which he had two days to prepare them for. Hubert's voice spoke to him, reminding him that the group had chosen him as their professor for "ridiculous" reasons. Another voice then informed him that it was only Edelgard who wanted him back as their teacher, and that the others most likely wanted him sacked after the training ground incident with Caspar. He turned right down a narrow, cobbled street and saw the thick jacket, grey hair and moustache of Hanneman, shuffling along with a stack of books that rose as high as his head. The sight of the man reminded him that he would be up against him and Manuela, two experienced professors who'd had a whole week to train with their classes for the battle. They would be up against him, a man with no experience of teaching, and his students, many of whom either doubted him, disliked him or both, some of whom, Bernadetta especially, didn't even want to be there. The books also made it obvious that Hanneman had a plan for his class that day and reminded him that he himself didn't have one.

The thoughts whirled around his head, but he kept walking.

He soon reached the red and black banners of the Black Eagle House classroom and felt his skin crawl. Inside he saw the students sat at their desks. They hadn't noticed him yet, and that made a voice in his head scream at him to flee, to leave the monastery and to never look back.

Byleth, the Ashen Demon, gulped and walked inside the classroom.

His footsteps echoed on the stone-cobbled floor and the Black Eagle students, who were scattered around the room, turned and looked at him. None of them smiled, apart from Edelgard.

'Professor,' she said. He nodded at her, feeling a chill rush down his spine as he did so. He moved towards the desk at the front of the room. Bernadetta, the girl who'd thrown a book at him the previous week, stared at him. Her eyes were ringed red and large, puffy bags hung under them. Her pale face somehow looked even unhealthier than when he'd last seen her. As he neared her desk, she sprung to her feet and skuttled to the side of the room. She gripped the wall with one hand and bent her legs as if ready to break into a scrambling run.

'I apologise professor,' Edelgard said, sounding embarrassed. 'Bernadetta believes that your condition might be contagious and is insistent that she keeps her distance from you. I've tried to tell her otherwise, but she says that she will not get near until she is certain that it is safe to do so.'

Byleth nodded again. He reached the wooden desk and looked down at its scratched surface where a pile of papers sat.

'Seteth asked us to write reviews chapters two to eight of the "Compendium of Light and Dark" as homework,' Dorothea said, lacking her usual enthusiasm.

'I see,' Byleth said, blinking. He moved them to one side, took another deep breath in and then turned and faced the students.

My students, he thought.

Before him sat some of the most important people in Adrestia. In reality, it hadn't been long since he'd last seen them yet it felt like an eternity had passed. Ferdinand Von Aegir, with his combed ginger hair and tall posture, sat closest to him at the front with his hands folded. Petra the princess of Brigid, sat beside him, scratching the tattoo under her eye. Dorothea, the former songstress, played with her hair at a table across from them. Beside her sat Linhardt rested his chin on his elbows and appeared to be struggling to keep his eyes open. Two students sat at the table behind them, one of which really wanted him as their professor and the other who didn't. Hubert, the tall, gaunt-faced man; the heiress's "humble servant", sat glaring at him whilst Edelgard the Adrestian heiress sat beside him. Bernadetta was now settled in a seat at the back of the classroom near the entrance, trembling worse than before. That left one student missing, Caspar, who Seteth said wouldn't be allowed back into the classroom until after the mock battle. It'd felt like a long time since he'd seen them not just because of everything he'd gone through, but because they felt different to him.

Something had changed in them whilst he'd been gone.

'How are you, Professor?' Ferdinand asked. 'Seteth told us about your illness. Are you feeling better?'

'Yes,' Byleth said. Ferdinand had been one of the noblest nobles he'd ever met, someone who not only sounded noble due to his upbringing, but because he also seemed to actively try to sound enthusiastically upper class every time he spoke. Today, however, the energy in his voice was gone, and his ever so noble smile appeared forced. Petra spoke next, and she sounded just as tired as he did.

'It is giving me happiness that you are well, Professor.'

'I heard the pain you went through was really bad, Professor, but I'm glad you're feeling better,' Dorothea said. Not only did she sound tired, but her hair was also tangled, and her eyes were puffy. The next student to speak didn't sound tired, yet he didn't fill Byleth with much optimism.

'Professor, because we allowed you to be our professor again, may we have the day off today?'

'No Linhardt,' Edelgard snapped. 'We've spoken about this already now shush.'

Linhardt sighed and muttered "injustice" under his breath. A high-pitched voice then spoke and the class jumped and turned. Bernadetta's face had paled further.

'Uh, P-P-Professor, ho-... ho-...how can you p-prove that your illness isn't c-co-contagious?'

She looked as if she hadn't slept in a week. Byleth met her gaze and she shrank back and mewled.

'Bernadetta please,' Edelgard said, now sounding closer to a nagging mother than a future empress. 'The professor is better, there's nothing you can catch fro'-

' H-How c-can we b-be sure he isn't still i-infectious?'

'If that were the case then how is Seteth fine?' Ferdinand asked. 'In fact, if that were true, then Byleth would have infected us last week in the training'-

'Ferdinand, no!' Dorothea said, but it was too late. Bernadetta jumped to her feet and burst into tears. She fled out into the sunshine. She vanished and then Dorothea stood up. 'I'll go get her.'

'I apologise, Professor,' Edelgard said, sighing. 'She has been struggling recently with… well, everything.'

'That's the fourth time in a week she's done that,' Linhardt said, frowning. 'I wouldn't be allowed to do that.'

Byleth watched Dorothea leave the classroom and then felt Hubert staring at him. His face showed no emotion, but it didn't need to.

His lively green eyes said enough.