#there is not enough erujean in this world friendos

[seraphichan]

Xylography

Erwin poked at the food on his plate. The sign said shepherd’s pie, but this looked nothing like what his mother made. It did, however, look like the droppings of what shepherds looked after.

“Tastes better than it looks,” Mike said, his plate already empty.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Erwin pushed his plate away and pulled his notebook in front of him instead. “Besides I’m too stressed about next semester to eat.”

Mike snorted. “It hasn’t even started yet.”

“That’s the thing. I need to fill some credits and I don’t know what to take.”

“Can you take anything?” Mike asked, digging his phone out of his pocket and tapping at the screen.

“Yeah.”

Mike hummed and scrolled through his phone.

“There’s swimming.”

“Eh.”

“Orchestra.”

“I hate playing the french horn, Mike, you know that.”

“How about…what the fuck…xylography?” he pronounced slowly.

“Xylo-what now?”

“Um.” He squinted at the screen as he started to skim the course description. “Looks like it’s a printing technique using wood carvings.”

“Sounds like an art course.”

“Yeah. You’ve taken those before, right?”

Erwin hummed. “None that were so interactive, though.”

Erwin had taken an introductory art class his freshman year and an art history class in his sophomore year. Both had been mostly textbooks and powerpoints and droning lectures, nowhere near as intense sounding as this class.

Of course Erwin was willing to take the course if…

“Who teaches it?”

Mike smirked. “Professor Kirstein.”

He had taught the history course Erwin had taken before and Erwin had been embarrassingly smitten with him ever since.

“I’ll do it.”

“Better hurry then. Looks like there’s limited spots.”

And just like that Erwin was gathering his things and running for the library.

Erwin’s head hit the table and he groaned.

Full. Every single slot. What had he done to deserve this? Why did the world hate him?

“How are class sign ups going?” a voice asked.

Erwin turned his head and peered up at his friend Hange.

“My life is over,” Erwin answered with a big sigh.

Hange rolled their eyes. “Mike told me this might happen.”

“Did he also tell you this is his fault? If he hadn’t told me about that class, I wouldn’t be suffering.”

“Dramatic, much?” Hange pulled a chair over from the next table and sat beside Erwin. “Look, you’ve gotten into closed courses before, right? You used some of that Smith brand charm. What’s stopping you from using it now?”

Erwin sat up. “You’re right, Hange.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He stood and slammed his laptop closed, stuffed it in his bag. “You’re a genius!”

“I know.”

“Wish me luck!” he shouted, not waiting long enough to hear whether they actually did or not.

Erwin took a deep breath. He had prepared what he hoped was a very convincing speech on the walk over. He could do this. He knocked on Professor Kirstein’s office door.

“Come in.”

Erwin did, stepping in quickly and closing the door with a soft click behind him.

“Have a seat. Just gotta finish this up,” he said, waving absently at the chair in front of his desk.

Erwin perched at the edge of the chair and peered around the office. It was cluttered, but not unclean. It felt cozy. He had paintings and pottery on walls and shelves, and a bust of what looked like a man with a comical horse head on the windowsill. Erwin cocked his head at it. That was…something.

A loud clack brought Erwin’s attention back Professor Kirstein, and he turned his head just in time to see the man stick his tongue out at his computer.

“Sorry about that. A fellow colleague is being an absolute ass.” He paused. “Aaand you should probably forget I said that.”

Erwin laughed. “Consider it forgotten.”

He gave Erwin a crooked smile, and if Erwin was a man of weaker constitution he might have swooned. Instead he cleared his throat.

“Professor Kirs–”

“Please,” he interrupted, “just call me Jean. All my students do.”

“Okay. Jean,” Erwin tried, using all his willpower to keep the blush from his face.

“Good. Now, what can I do for you…Erwin?”

Erwin blinked. “Uh.”

“I’m sorry.” He frowned. “Was that wrong?”

“No, you’re right, I just, you know my name?”

Jean shrugged. “I remember good students. Never seen anyone so into an art history class. Not even the art majors.”

“Well, you made it very interesting.”

Jean smiled. “I try. So,” he prompted.

“Right.” Erwin sat up straighter. “I was making my schedule for next semester and came across the xylography course. I remember learning about it in art history. The process seemed fascinating, and I was delighted by the possibility to learn about it in a more hands-on setting. But by the time I went to sign up, the class was already full. I was wondering if, despite the already filled student roster, you might be able to make an exception and allow me into the course.”

“Well, I don’t think one more student would be an issue. And you certainly seem enthusiastic,” Jean chuckled.

Erwin could feel the smile of triumph twitch to his lips.

“Oh, but I haven’t seen you in any classes over the past few semesters. Did you take the prerequisite courses online perhaps? Or over the summer maybe?”

Erwin’s face fell.

“Ah. No,” Erwin said. “Honestly I didn’t read the course description too carefully, so I didn’t notice the requirements. I think…I was just excited at the prospect of taking another class with you.”

“Hm.” Jean leaned back. His fingers tapped at his chin and he pushed his feet against the ground, chair spinning as he thought. After a few rotations he stopped himself by propping his left foot on his desk. “Alright.”

“Alright?” Erwin repeated in disbelief.

Jean nodded. “Like I said, you’re a good student. I think you’ll pick up on everything quick. So I’ll squeeze you in.”

“What about the prerequisite classes?”

“What’s the point of being the head of the department if you can’t bend the rules a little?”

He winked at Erwin and Erwin’s chest swelled, cheeks definitely pink now.

“Plus if you ever need help with anything, that’s what my office hours are for.”

“Thank you! Thank you, Prof–er, Jean,” he corrected.

Jean smiled at him again. “I look forward to next semester, Erwin.”

Erwin grinned. He did, too.