Work Text:
Raphael hummed contentedly to himself as he sat on the edge of the fishing pier, letting the cool waters of the monastery pond lap around his calves. Days like these, where the breeze seemed to play with his hair and not a single cloud dotted the blue skies, he was perfectly happy to bask in the sunshine and let the fish in the pond nibble away at all the bait he’d brought with him. He wondered if Maya was able to enjoy the sunshine back home, too. Thinking of her reminded him of his neglected studies, but he decided to push that thought away and instead lay back on the pier to take a much-deserved break.
He heard the steady thud of boots striding across the wooden planks. Cracking open an eye he confirmed his guess that it was indeed Byleth coming down the pier, fishing rod and bucket in tow.
“Hey, Professor!” Raphael called out, still prone. Byleth simply nodded, the curious fellow, and sat cross-legged next to him. Deftly spearing a worm onto their hook, they cast a line and began to wait.
His professor was one of those people Maya might call “handsome” or “pretty,” or both. He absentmindedly studied Byleth, unmoving, against the backdrop of the greenhouse and southern tip of the dormitories.
The line began to twitch, and Byleth tightened their grip on the fishing rod in response. Suddenly the rod nearly flew out of their hands. Raphael startled, clambered back onto the pier, and helped grab ahold of the rod. With one powerful pull, he easily retrieved a full-grown Teutates pike and casually lobbed it into the bucket. Byleth steadied the bucket as the two of them watched the fish thrash about, then still.
“Thanks, Raphael. I almost lost that one,” they said. Then, without a moment’s pause, they hooked a blowfly and tossed the line back into the pond, though this time they remained standing.
“You sure you can handle this one?” Raphael teased.
Byleth gave no indication of either amusement or irritation. “Yes. I’ll be more prepared this time.”
Not a minute later the line was jerking erratically. Raphael estimated the prey was likely just as large, but as he moved to assist, Byleth changed their fishing stance. Anchoring their core and utilizing their entire body to wrench upward and backward, they deftly brought ashore an equally large Queen loach.
“Woah, nice catch,” Raphael complimented. Byleth merely nodded in acknowledgement and reached for more bait. Raphael began to wonder if he was getting in the way, but Byleth hadn’t said anything.
“Say, Professor. Do you ever think that there’s probably more to growth than becoming stronger?”
Byleth gave him a side-eye. “I would say that of all the things I wish to teach my students, that’s probably the single most important lesson I have to offer. Did you miss the unit on theory of war?”
“No, I don’t mean just for battles.” Raphael waved his hands, as if clearing away the miscommunication. “I mean, like, in life. Like the second fish you caught. Even though you have less muscle than me or even Caspar—no offense—you still managed to catch it without needing my help. Yannow what I mean?”
“Hm. No, I still don’t see how this differs from our classroom drills on battle tactics.”
Now his brain was beginning to hurt. He decided to change topics: “Why do you like fishing so much?”
“Fishing is an exercise in the art of living life.”
“…Sorry, what?”
Now Byleth wore an uncharacteristic smile. Raphael was almost certain they weren’t even aware of it. “Ah, sorry. It’s something Dad always likes to say. He repeats it so often that even Alois picked it up.”
“Huh. I see.” Raphael scratched his head. “I kinda like the sound of it though. What’s it mean?”
The two of them watched the line twitch expectantly. “I dunno,” Byleth replied, “what do you think?”
“C’mon, Professor, don’t do that to me,” Raphael laughed, but then realized Byleth was serious. “Um… I mean, I guess it means fishing is like living? Let’s see… fishing takes a lot of preparation, then waiting, then some more waiting, then with any luck you get a bite, and then you gotta fight the line, and, uh…”
“That sounds about right,” Byleth responded simply. Their eyes were focused on the ripples of the pond.
Raphael groaned. Maya probably would’ve figured this all out by now… He felt a sudden pang of regret.
“Ah… Raphael?”
“You know, Professor,” he found himself beginning to ramble, “I always thought I could just get by with focusing on myself getting stronger. All I needed to do was do the heavy lifting around the house, and that way my family could do all the things they wanted to do more easily. That’s all. Nothing messy like calculations or negotiations, yannow? But then when my parents died, and I came to Garreg Mach to support my sister, I realized that everyone else has not only really lofty dreams, but also the ambition to attain them. Like Ignatz. It was purely luck that his parents were …spared, but even so, he’s still doing his best to become a knight. Heck, Claude says he wants to open Fódlan’s borders to Almyra and beyond!”
“Raphael? Hey, Raphael?”
“So sometimes, I wonder if I’m disappointing Maya and my parents’ memory by not wanting to do more. Really, she’s the one who should be here, solving your tactician puzzles and learning magic and whatnot. Not me. I’m strong, and I can fight, but that doesn’t always mean I’ll be able to help Maya live better.”
“Raphael!”
“Huh? What?”
“I need your help—!”
“Oh no!!”
Raphael dove for the fishing rod which had just slipped out of Byleth’s grasp. He teetered on the edge of the pier and just barely managed to catch the rod. As he attempted to pull back, though, whatever was on the other end reared back and nearly dragged him in. Suddenly he felt Byleth’s arms around his waist and anchoring him ashore, and he managed to get both feet back on the pier. Byleth appeared at his side and grabbed ahold of the rod, their hands overlapping as they struggled to fight their prey.
“I’m going to need your strength for this one, Raphael,” Byleth shouted through gritted teeth as the fish wildly thrashed about, seemingly meters below the surface. “On the count of three. One… two…”
“Three!” Raphael yelled, throwing all his energy and fighting spirit into one goal only: catching that fish. With one massive pull, he staggered backward and tossed his catch onto solid ground. He heard first the wet – thud! – of the intended recipient, followed by a splattering of terrestrial splashing, and immense satisfaction washed over him. Then, he heard a drier bump of something a bit larger on the ground.
“Oh no! Professor! Sorry!” he shouted, running back toward the direction of the dining hall.
Byleth was sprawled out on the paved stones, lying prone and immobile. Raphael began to panic. Were they okay? Did he actually just accidentally throw over his shoulder and knock out the professor…?
“I now understand,” Byleth coughed, “why you like napping on the pier so much. It’s quite nice like this.”
“Professor!” Raphael held back tears as he leaned down to examine their body for any grievous injuries. “I’m so glad you’re okay! But also, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying to what you were saying or doing and…”
They tugged at Raphael’s shirtsleeve, and he fell quiet. “Relax, Raphael. I’ve suffered worse… Anyway, we caught the fish, right? That’s most important. I was curious about that golden light in the pond…”
Glancing over at the fish—holy moly, was that one of those fabled Goddess Messengers?—he realized it would still be some time before it expired, given its size and impressive air bladder capacity, but also he’d launched it several meters ashore. So he figured lying down by the professor’s side couldn’t hurt.
After a peaceful while, “…I was listening, by the way,” said Byleth. “And all of those are valid concerns.”
“Thanks,” Raphael muttered, now slightly embarrassed. “But, uh, actually, don’t worry about it, really…”
“But, Raphael,” they continued, “I think you already understand the meaning of fishing and life, even if you’re not aware of it. You understand that you can do all this prep work, all this waiting, and yet you can never control what luck hands you. Sometimes you can’t even control how you react, amid all the action. In those moments, all you can rely on is the strength you’ve built. And while it’s true strength comes in different forms, that also doesn’t mean that your own physical strength is useless, either.”
“Thank you, Professor,” Raphael mumbled. Although he was drifting off to sleep, he genuinely meant it.
-
“…up. Raphael? Wake up, Raphael. You’re on dinner duty tonight.”
“Urgh… huh? What?”
Raphael awoke to the rays of the setting sun settling down upon his skin, the water of the monastery pond lapping gently at his calves. Byleth was crouched down next to him, gently shaking his shoulder.
“Woah, hey there, Professor…” Raphael rubbed at his eyes, blinking as the light hit his face directly. “Was that… all a dream? That was wild. I think you were in it, too…”
Byleth tilted their head slightly. But instead of dismissing him offhandedly, as Maya or his classmates might’ve, they gave him a mysterious sort of smile and said, “Who knows? Come, there’s a giant fish waiting to be descaled and filleted, and besides Dedue you’re the only one strong enough to handle it.”
Before Raphael could respond, they stood, stretched and yawned, and then left for the dining hall.
“Huh,” Raphael said aloud to himself. But then his stomach rumbled. Thus, he decided that no matter the provenance of said fish, he was all too happy to prepare and share it with Byleth and his classmates.