Erwin stood in the empty classroom the next morning, staring at the blackboard with the kind of dread usually reserved for condemned men awaiting execution.
He hadn't slept. Not because of nightmares, but because of the sheer, unshakable terror of knowing he had to teach intimacy studies to a group of girls who thought a kiss was either scandalous, laughable, or both.
On the desk before him sat a stack of hastily borrowed books from the academy library. Their titles mocked him.
"Human Anatomy: A Noblewoman's Primer."
"The Etiquette of Courtship."
"On the Proper Use of Produce in Magical Alchemy."
That last one wasn't even relevant. He just grabbed it in a panic.
Erwin buried his face in his hands. "Why me? Why this?"
The classroom door creaked open, and his students trickled in one by one. Clara, still blushing from yesterday, carried her books stacked neatly against her chest. Marianne strode in with all the confidence of a knight marching to war. Ivy sauntered last, twirling her wand, smirk firmly in place.
"Morning, Professor," Ivy drawled, her voice dripping with mischief. "Ready for another day of corrupting young minds?"
Erwin ground his teeth. "It's called teaching, Blackwood."
"Same thing," she said sweetly.
Clara sat primly at her desk, peeking at him with nervous eyes. "Um… Professor? What will today's lesson be about?"
Erwin hesitated. The truth was he hadn't decided yet. He'd spent all night trying to think of the least dangerous subject to cover. Something harmless. Something safe.
"Anatomy," he said finally, forcing the word out. "Basic anatomy."
Clara turned red instantly. Marianne smirked. Ivy's grin widened like a cat who'd just spotted a mouse.
"Oh, this is going to be fun," Ivy murmured.
Before Erwin could regain control, Marianne reached into her bag and slapped something down on the desk with a thunk.
It was a cucumber.
"…Why," Erwin said flatly, "do you have that?"
Marianne shrugged. "Figured you'd need teaching tools. Heard intimacy studies always involve… props."
Clara nearly fainted. Ivy clapped a hand over her mouth to hide her laughter.
Erwin stared at the cucumber. Then at his students. Then back at the cucumber.
This was going to be the longest semester of his life.
Erwin pinched the bridge of his nose. "That," he said, pointing at the cucumber, "is a vegetable."
Marianne leaned back in her chair, arms folded. "So?"
"So," Erwin continued slowly, as though explaining fire to cavemen, "we are not using produce for this class."
"But Professor," Clara stammered, her cheeks already pink, "isn't, um… isn't that what people use…?"
"NO!" Erwin barked, louder than intended. His shout bounced off the classroom walls and made Clara yelp.
Ivy, meanwhile, looked absolutely delighted. She picked up the cucumber, twirled it in her fingers, and smirked. "Well, technically, Professor, she's not wrong. I've read a few rather… creative stories in the restricted section."
Erwin nearly choked. "WHAT section?!"
"The restricted section," Ivy repeated innocently, though the sparkle in her eyes screamed anything but innocence. She leaned forward, cucumber resting dangerously between her fingers. "Come now, Professor. If we're studying anatomy, wouldn't a demonstration help? Visual aids, as they say."
Marianne slammed her hand on the desk. "Exactly! Enough theory. Show us how it's done!"
Erwin felt his soul leave his body. "I am not demonstrating anything with a cucumber!"
"Then what's the point of this class?" Marianne shot back, smirking triumphantly.
Clara squeaked, hiding her face in her notebook. "P-Please, no demonstrations! I'll die if I have to see something like that!"
Erwin turned helplessly toward her. "Thank you! Finally, someone reasonable—"
"B-But…" Clara added softly, peeking through her fingers, "I… I do want to know. Just… not with a vegetable."
Erwin slammed his forehead against the blackboard.
This was hell.
Ivy, of course, decided to make it worse. She waved her wand, and with a flick of magic, the cucumber doubled in size until it was absurdly oversized—nearly the length of Erwin's arm. She placed it upright on the desk like some sacred relic.
"There," she said sweetly. "A proper teaching tool."
The class roared with laughter. Clara squealed and ducked so low only the top of her head was visible. Marianne grinned like she'd won a duel.
And Erwin?
He stared at the giant cucumber, questioning every life decision that had led him here.
"…I hate my life," he muttered.
The classroom was in chaos.
Clara was half-hiding under her desk, red as a rose. Marianne lounged back in her chair, smirking like she was watching a play. Ivy had conjured glowing magical arrows pointing dramatically at the absurdly oversized cucumber on the desk, like it was some kind of holy relic.
And Erwin… poor Erwin stood in the middle of it all, his face pale, his hands raised like a man surrendering in battle.
"This," he said loudly, trying to drown out the giggles, "is not a demonstration tool! It is a vegetable! Class dismissed, everyone go home!"
Of course, no one moved.
And then—click, click, click.
The sound of sharp heels echoed down the hall. The classroom door creaked open.
Standing there was Dean Eleanor Graves.
Tall. Elegant. A long black dress that hugged her curves. Her expression perfectly calm… though the faint twitch at the corner of her lips suggested she already suspected trouble.
Her cold eyes swept the scene:
Clara trembling behind her notebook.
Marianne smirking with arms folded.
Ivy grinning like she'd just pulled off the prank of the century.
And front and center… Erwin, standing stiff as a board beside a cucumber the size of a broadsword.
The Dean's gaze lingered on the cucumber. Slowly, very slowly, her eyebrow arched.
"…Professor Fletcher," she said in that silky, dangerous tone. "Am I interrupting something?"
Erwin's entire soul screamed. "This… this is not what it looks like!"
The Dean folded her arms under her chest, which only emphasized her figure. "Really? Because it appears as though you are conducting… practical demonstrations on the very first week."
"I am not—this isn't—" Erwin flailed, pointing at Ivy. "She did it!"
Ivy batted her lashes innocently. "Me, Professor? I would never undermine your authority."
The Dean's lips curved into a smile that was somehow both beautiful and terrifying. "How ambitious of you, Professor Fletcher. I expected hesitation… but starting with props? My, my."
Erwin nearly fainted.
"Y-You've got it all wrong! I didn't—"
"Carry on," Dean Graves purred, turning to leave. "Don't let me stop your… enthusiasm."
And with a final click of her heels, she swept out, leaving Erwin to collapse against the desk, his dignity in tatters.
Ivy leaned back, smirking. "Well, Professor… looks like you've got her approval."
Marianne chuckled. Clara whimpered.
Erwin stared at the cursed cucumber. "I'm going to die here."
When the door finally clicked shut behind the Dean, the classroom descended into barely-contained laughter.
Marianne smirked and crossed her arms. "Well, Professor, I'd say that was an impressive performance."
"It wasn't a performance!" Erwin barked, running both hands through his hair. "It was sabotage! Mutiny! Psychological warfare!"
Ivy tilted her head, smirk widening. "But effective. Look at it this way—you've already made the class unforgettable. Most teachers spend weeks trying to earn their students' attention. You did it in one lesson."
Erwin's eye twitched. "With a cucumber."
"Exactly," Ivy purred.
Clara, who had been curled up behind her notebook the entire time, finally peeked over the edge. Her cheeks were still scarlet, but her eyes shone with something dangerous—curiosity.
"Professor," she whispered timidly, "um… w-will tomorrow's lesson be… even more advanced?"
Erwin opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then collapsed face-first onto his desk with a groan so loud it echoed.
"I'm cursed," he muttered into the wood. "Completely cursed. This is how I die. Not by monsters. Not by war. But by a classroom full of noble girls and a vegetable."
The girls exchanged looks—Clara nervous, Marianne smug, Ivy positively glowing with mischief.
And though Erwin didn't know it yet, the cucumber incident was only the beginning.
⭐ End of Chapter 2
➡️ Next Chapter Preview:
Erwin tries to take back control of his class by introducing "courtship etiquette" as the next topic—hoping it'll be safer. Unfortunately, when the lesson turns into a "practice dance," Clara steps on his feet, Marianne treats it like a sparring match, and Ivy decides dancing is the perfect opportunity to test body-to-body proximity. Things are about to get a whole lot closer.
➡️ CTA (Call to Action):
Did this chapter make you laugh? Drop a comment and tell me—who do you think is going to give Erwin the hardest time this semester: Clara, Marianne, or Ivy? Don't forget to add this book to your library so you don't miss the next disaster class!