“You doing alright there, Azawaza?” Fenrir asks, still holding Azalabulia’s hand as they walk.
She’s just as giggly and smile-y as she was when she first managed to stand up.
“You’re going to make it extremely obvious what happened… though everybody is probably already suspecting it anyways. To be honest, they – yeah, they definitely already know. Don’t be surprised if Olly and Serra decide to tease you.”
“Ehehe,” Azalabulia giggles, still not entirely there.
“You’re seriously out of it, aren’t you?”
“Fenrir to Azalabulia. Can you hear me? Over.”
“Wait, how is that even relevant to this right now, and why are you bringing up explosions when I try getting feedback from you? You know that any base of operations getting ‘explosions’ back when they ask if you’re alright is going to worry them, right?”
“You’re not a loli magician who can only cast one explosion spell per day before becoming useless. You’re Azawaza the dark and awesome and the wielder of Bahamut’s flame and all of that, remember? That doesn’t sound like somebody who giggles and mumbles to herself.”
“I’m just happy… not useless.”
Hearing her suddenly admit to just being happy actually manages to make Fenrir blush a little bit. Thankfully, though, Azalabulia is still too out of it to notice him blushing. “You’re surprising, Azawaza.”
“H-how so?” she asks, and now she is the one who is blushing.
“Just… you know. I didn’t think I’d need to blindfold—”
“Pl-please don’t mention that…”
“Alright. Well, other than that, I didn’t think that you’d basically melt from pleas—”
“Please don’t mention that either!”
“… alright. Well, you’re also surprising in how you’re actually pretty feminine when you’re not being a chuuni.”
“I – of course I’m feminine! I was never not feminine!”
“Alright, alright. You’re right. You’re always feminine. So, aside from all of those, you’re,” Fenrir pauses. He wants to say that she’s much more childish than he would have thought she’d be given how edgy she likes to be when roleplaying… but then again, roleplaying how she does could be seen as childish all on its own. Then there is the fact that she’s a teacher. If she’s a teacher, shouldn’t she be – well, be less childish?
“I’m surprised you’re not saying you’re surprised I’m so childish…”
“Then this night is just full of surprises, because I’m surprised that you would be surprised that I’m not saying I’m surprised that you’re childish.”
“Y-you lost me.”
“I – I mean, I was thinking about it, but I figured it’d probably be best not to say. Wouldn’t a woman be upset if she gets called childish?”
“I don’t know… I mean, it’s true. I am childish. That’s why I love being Azalabulia and why I love teaching. Being childish is fun. An-and I think it’s kind of a requirement for being a teacher… kind of.”
“Because, if you’re childish, you can get along with your students better.”
“Are teachers supposed to get along with their students that well?”
“It depends on who you ask,” she answers, her voice turning more serious now, “but I think it’s good. It is good for both the teacher and the students. A teacher who is childish is not going to – well, they aren’t going to go insane trying to handle the children. They won’t get tired of their students’ immature humor, they won’t get so upset at children being children, and the students will trust the teacher more – they will be more likely to listen, and may even open up to their teacher about anything that is concerning them.” She pauses and takes a deep breath before continuing. “I genuinely believe that being childish around students, but knowing when to be strict, is the best approach. My students love me, and I love them. They trust me to talk to me like a friend, and they listen to me when it is time to listen.”
Fenrir has to hold back as much as he can to resist teasing her about being switched into teacher mode. At least, he’s assuming that this is her in teacher mode. He has only ever gotten glimpses of her like this before, so this is the first time that he’s actually getting to listen to her talk and go in-depth about teaching without stuttering or shouting about darkness and explosions.
So, rather than tease her and potentially knock her out of this mood, he decides to encourage it. “What about the people who don’t agree with it? What’s their logic? I’m curious now,” he says.
“Their logic is bad. That’s what it is,” she answers in a playful tone. “On a more serious note, they believe that teachers – or rather, all educators, should be strictly professional twenty-four-seven. This means that even if a student were to see them outside of the classroom, whether it’s in the hall or at the store, that the teacher should be nothing but professional. They don’t mean to be cold, but they don’t exactly care about making friends either. Honestly, I haven’t known many teachers like this, but I have known two of them. One said it was so that she wouldn’t get attached to students since she used to be depressed at the end of each school year, and the other said that he was worried about being falsely accused of anything if he was ever seen being too close with the students. I can understand both of their points of view, really.”
“Because. I always cry on the last day of classes, and even today, men have it rough as teachers. They’re never even allowed to put their hands on students, especially the female students.”
“That makes sense. What about their logic is bad then? Those things sound pretty normal to me.”
“Well, it’s not so much their logic as it is other teachers and parents I have heard about. They believe that it is a teacher’s job to teach and nothing else. If they had it their way, everything would be taught by the book and there would be absolutely zero deviation when it comes to lesson plans. Everybody would be taught the exact same thing the exact same way without any critical thinking or games involved.”
“Ouch. You’re reminding me of school now.”
“Right? I hated that sort of teacher when growing up, so I refuse to be like that myself. Besides, I always get emails from my students’ parents about how much they love me and enjoy my classes. If I make my students actually look forward to coming to school, I consider that the highest honor that a teacher could ever hope to receive.”
Fenrir can’t hold back anymore.
“That was all really cute,” he teases. “It’s fun to listen to you talk about something you’re passionate about.”
“I – it wasn’t cute,” Azalabulia pouts. “I was being serious…”
“I know, and that’s what makes you so cute.”
“W-were you even listening?”
“Of course I was. I listened to every single word you said and could probably recite it all back to you if you wanted me to.”
“Al-alright then, do it.”
“First, look at me,” he says.
Azalabulia looks at him.
Fenrir kisses her.
She goes back to mumbling and forgets all about him reciting her words.