Lady Misfortune: Daddy, I'll Be A Righteous Villainess!

For a moment, Weiss and Lady only stare at the door of the faculty office in bemusement.

"You must be a very good writer if Ms. Mirabella wants you to handle a so-called side project," he commented, turning to look her way.

"I don't know why she thinks so," she said with a shrug while he studied her.

"Well, I think you're indeed very good with your words. I've heard Fallon complaining about how annoying your tongue is."

"He did what?! Oh, that rascal. I swear, he keeps telling that to everybody! He thinks that I'll shut up if the world doesn't talk to me."

"I think Fallon fails to realize that it's you that talks to the world – not the other way around."

"Oh, he knows that. He just wants me to shut up."

Weiss laughs at the sentiment. Lady pouts. 

"Don't laugh at me! We have a project to work on," she huffed.

"Yes, we do. I suppose I'll have to ask Fallon exactly what that tongue of yours is good at," he teased, which earned him a quip.

"Maybe you'll just have to figure it out for yourself. I heard you're pretty intelligent."

"I guess I will." 

Smirking, he offers his arm to her. She lifts a brow. 

"Shall we walk to your next class, dear little lady?" he humored.

"Please, do not talk like that. I've had enough Shakespeare to last me a lifetime," she groaned but still slid her arm into his all the same. 

Weiss chuckles, amused by Lady's antics. 

And with that, the two of them start to make their way down the hall, tossing ideas back and forth. What seems like a free-flowing conversation is actually just an excuse to keep themselves from addressing a bigger matter, however. If it wasn't for the task that their homeroom teacher suspiciously assigned to them, they knew what kind of discussion they'd most likely have.

Yesterday's talk in the clinic isn't over yet. There are still a few more things to give a lot of explaining to. But this time, it wouldn't only be the two of them. 

"Hey, have lunch with us again. Come over to our secret place later, and we'll talk," said Fallon as soon as he and Lady arrived at school that morning and saw Weiss step in at the same time.

Right then, he knew that Fallon knew. Weiss did fail to do a good job eavesdropping. Lady appears to be clueless of the whole exchange, though – typical Lady. 

'We'll all just have to talk about it later this noon. Besides, the more, the merrier… right?' 

---

"I'm happy for them."

Ms. Mirabella scoffs. 

Setting down her cup of tea, she levels a gaze at the woman sitting across from her. The morning light filters through the window, rays of the sun sweeping across her office desk and giving the mahogany wood a soft yellow glow. The table has been cleared of most things to make room for a tea set, though it will be cluttered again in an hour or two. 

Under the light of the sun, Ms. Mirabella can see Catalina's eyes sparkling.

"Of course, you would be," she muttered.

Catalina shrugs nonchalantly, folding her hands in her lap. Ms. Mirabella frowns at her. 

Life has always been tough on the matriarch, she knows, but in spite of all her efforts to hide it, she can see through her strong woman facade and gauge the broken, repentant girl lying underneath the surface.

Catalina is bound by her duties from the day she's born. Ms. Mirabella feels her eye twitch at the thought.

"It's nice to see Weiss experiencing what any normal boy should," Catalina remarked.

Ms. Mirabella settles back in her chair, swiveling around, humming in thought. "Oh, do mind your manners," Catalina chided to which she barked out a laugh and rolled her eyes. 

"You were always so prim, Madam Cat. I don't understand why I used to be jealous of you back in college," she teased with a mirthful expression.

"What's on your mind, Mira?" she inquired, eyes narrowing slightly. 

"Oh, nothing too important. I was just thinking of your little boy."

"Weiss? Why? What about Weiss?"

"Calm down, calm down. I'm not reporting anything bad okay? Geez, you're such a worrywart – one of the downsides of being your spy on top of being a teacher."

"Oh, shush. You don't have to say that. Someone might be listening, you know." 

Ms. Mirabella only snorted in reply, dismissing it. She then pulled on one of her desk drawers and retrieved a folder. Catalina assumes it's of her students.

"Your son's dearest friend has quite the talent. Have you ever seen her write-ups before?"

Catalina takes the pile of papers, flipping the pages and skimming through the reports that she has apparently asked Lady to write over the past week. Her brows shot up. She then looked at Ms. Mirabella sharply. 

"If I didn't know you, I would think you're one of those single lonely cat ladies who've got a fetish for romantic poetry…" she deadpanned.

"But I do. And I'm thinking you're trying to plant ideas in the young lady's head."

"Guilty as charged…" she admitted, seemingly not so bothered. 

"Seems that nothing really gets past you, Madam Cat."

"Shakespeare's sonnet? Really? Aren't you trying too hard?" 

Catalina closes the folder, her nose scrunching up in disgust. Ms. Mirabella briefly finds her expression adorable but immediately dispels the thought. 

"What is life without the occasional mind games, anyway…?" she quipped with an impish grin.

"Besides, your son has given me enough strife to last me 'til I die. Let me have my fun at least."

Catalina carefully slides the folder back to her. Ms. Mirabella snatches it up with a smirk. 

"As long as you don't do anything rash…" she warned, glaring to emphasize not just her point but also her whole thought about this. 

"Or force them to feel things they weren't supposed to if their minds were clear."

"Oh, look at you..." she cooed playfully. 

"Such a bundle of nerves."

"Ms. Mirabella."

"Right, right. Okay." 

"I care about Weiss a whole lot, Mira. If I wasn't fond of Lady, which I confess I am, I won't allow this."

"Bah! Don't worry so much. One of my roles here is to make sure that he's making nice memories in this academy, right? By giving those two more opportunities to spend time with each other, I guarantee he'll have a blast."

She picks up a scone from the tea tray and takes a bite. Then, she swallows, pouting and saying, "Besides, he's got a good head on his shoulders. Too good, really."

"Well, alright. If you say so…" Catalina sighed.

"I think it'll be fine even if you don't do any of this, though. They're already pretty close. Seriously, what you're probably really doing is hooking them up. But it's not like I'm completely innocent, anyway. To tell you the truth, I'm going to have Lloyd host a party so that he can have an excuse to meet Lady too. He's starting to get curious about her these days, apparently." 

"Hmph…!" Ms. Mirabella huffed. 

"Planning a party, huh?"

"Don't whine. Of course, you're invited too."

Ms. Mirabella brightens up, cheering inwardly. Catalina grins.

"When is it?" she asked eagerly.

"Next week or so," she replied, chuckling a little at how excited she seemed.

"Good, good! Maybe you should let Weiss invite Lady's family as well. It's only fair, right?"

"Ugh, when will you stop with your little games?"

"The day when that boy's face cracks. Honestly, he has the best poker face I've ever seen."

"That isn't an excuse for you to play matchmaker."

"Yeah, yeah. It's not an excuse, but it's a challenge. Once your son realizes I've placed him and that young lady in the prime positions to fall in love, his poker face will finally dissolve, and I will be the victor."

"Wonder what he did to bruise your ego so."

"He was born. That's what he did."

"I can't believe you're abusing your position this way. Is he even qualified to be an Editor-in-Chief? I mean, sure, he finished high school early and bagged medals after medals. But in terms of interacting with others and whatnot, I'm afraid he still has a bit of a long way to go."

"I'm planning to publish many things this year. If I'm going to print a newspaper with a literary folio to match, I'm going to need the dough – and Weiss Saoirse has the dough."

Ms. Mirabella pumps her fist, determined. Catalina grimaces. 

"That's a disgusting analogy, Mira – and a horrifying application of slang."

"Nit-picky. You're so verbose yet I'm the English teacher in the room. Stick to cooking and cleaning. I don't need you to upstage me at my job too. Hmph." 

"Uh-huh. Just eat a scone you nit-wit."

"Gladly."

The two women fall into comfortable silence from thereon. 

Ms. Mirabella busies herself with finishing all the scones. Catalina brought all of them with her today. 

'I will happily endure your personality if it means I'm rewarded with good food,' she thought to herself as she scarfed down another pastry.