I was over at Zabyvat-Pomni-Slomay. I was there for the sake of the store’s client Miss Alexandra West. She requested that I stand in for her actual parents since the school was requesting parents attend some meeting or the other. Miss West occasionally made these kinds of requests, and since she was a fairly untroublesome client, I didn’t mind obliging, and handling the matter personally.

Now, I am currently strolling through a classroom, and was being guided by a teacher’s assistant. They were showing me, and all the other parents and guardians what they’d had the kids in this year working on over the course of the semester. Essentially doing what they could to show the parents that A) the money that they were spending for this years’ tuition was being put to good ends, and B) making the case for why our children’s continued attendance, and/or any donations we could afford wouldn’t be a waste.

To be fair to the school, they were actually making some fairly good arguments. The students seemed to genuinely be having a good time in most of the photos I was being shown. Most of the little projects, trophies, and sample works were of consistently high quality that it felt like the kids were actually learning something of value in the school. Enough so, that I actually considered tossing a little money the school’s way, on top of anything the client decided to donate.

I don’t know…Maybe the people who ran the school were just really good at the upsell. Or maybe, I was a sucker who found it hard to be stern when everything from the people, to the flowers, to the chairs, to the desks, to the pictures and knick-knacks on the wall, all seemed so very happy to see me. That might have been why I ended up starting a shop actually. Beyond being a decent way to kill time, people generally liked seeing a shopkeeper, especially when they were in need.

Ah…I think I’ve just discovered something embarrassing about myself. Okay, let’s lock that away. I’ll unpackage it later when I get the chance. With that, I proceeded to just tamely allow myself to get shown around. Zabyvat-Pomni was such an odd server. A lot of things were in black and white, and many things showed signs of sentience, if not sapience. I couldn’t help wondering the implications of what any kind of industry meant for such a world. But then again, even in normal worlds, the seemingly inanimate objects possessed a sort of latent self-awareness. So maybe, things weren’t so different here?

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The tour and promotion part of the evening came to an end, and it was time for us to have the more serious part of tonight’s parent-visit. The parent-teacher consultation. The first round of parent-teacher consultations were fairly brief. The course-instructors didn’t really have all that much time with each student, so they just told each of us parents/parent-guardians about themselves, what each teacher’s class entailed, and where the children were progress-wise. Then they read off some notes that they might have taken regarding each child’s progress.

I waited in a fairly luxurious lounge area, that was attached to the school’s administrative offices, until my turn came. A teaching-assistant called me over and brought me to Miss West’s homeroom, where I would naturally be speaking with her homeroom teacher. This was the “real-real” deal for the parent-teacher consultations. The other teachers were basically brief destinations for each student, and were switched out with each semester, but the homeroom teacher was someone that the students were basically at home with. The teacher that followed them for multiple semesters, and potentially multiple years, and saw them for a long spell of time each and every day.

“Hello,” said the teacher. Getting up from her desk to greet me. She was a tall woman, full-figured, with olive skin. She had an oval face, a pointed nose, and small but full lips. Her large dark-brown eyes held a strange kindness to them. Her dark-brown hair was short and straight and worn in a bob. She was dressed business-formal, which according to the aesthetics that were dominant in Zabyvat-Pomni, meant she wore a long skirt, and a very reserved, very thick blouse. She proffered a gloved hand. I shook her hand with my own hand, which was also gloved because I wasn’t the sort to act Carthaginian when I was walking amongst Romans. Especially, in something minor like wearing gloves or not.

“Good evening,” I said. Answering her greeting.

“My name is Eugenia Bailey, I am the homeroom teacher for Class 207-B,” said the woman.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Ellis Holst, Alexandra’s Uncle,” I said.

“Ah, well, Alexandra’s an excellent student, and I’ve heard a bit about you from her last homeroom teacher, so let’s start, shall we?” said Ms. Bailey.

The next few minutes were a continuation of everything that had come before. A mixture of small talk, bullshit, and talk regarding what Miss West had been up to in class and what the teacher had been doing in class. There was however the pleasant surprise of the BS feeling less like BS, and more like sincere concern and praise, from this particular teacher but there was still a little BS mixed in. This was understandable since I was probably far from the first, or last, guardian that Ms. Bailey would have to talk to this evening.

“Well, that’s it from me…I don’t suppose you had any questions, Mister Holst? Or was there anything that ‘you’ would like to discuss?” said

That was a bit of something new. Most of the other teachers had spent the evening just trying to get through the slog of students. The other staff had been busy with the upsell of keeping enrollment and donations. I decided I liked Ms. Bailey at that point. She had made a good impression on me, and based on what I could see from the data I had on her, she was a fairly good teacher.

“Hm….My…Niece, Alexandra. She seems to be enjoying her time in class, yes?” I said. After thinking a bit.

“I….I believe so. She’s been making friends. She’s been participating. She always seems to put her best foot forward,” said Ms. Bailey.

“Then that’s all that I can ask. Thank you for speaking with me,” I said.

We shook hands again and said our goodbyes, and I left the class, signaling the teacher-assistant that was waiting by the door that they could let in the next parent.

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Eugenia Bailey sat with her hands folded in front of her. Waiting until the exceedingly tall, overwhelmingly intimidating, Mr. Holst had left before hurriedly jumping to her feet, and letting her assistant know that she’d need a few minutes to quickly run to the ladies room. On the one hand, Eugenia really “did” need to pee. However, on the other hand, she’d almost pissed herself right there.

What was that? What the hell was that?! What was that thing that called itself little Alexandra’s Uncle? That walking mass of desire, madness, and power? She’d never seen or experienced anything like it in her life, and considering the life, she’d lived before she’d settled down and became a teacher, Eugenia had seen a lot. When the man, or rather that thing that walked with a man’s shape, had walked in, Eugenia had nearly attacked it with her spirit-ink…him. The only things that stopped her were the near certainty that she’d had died if she did anything so foolish, and the worry that she’d get innocents involved.

Now that the whole experience was over, Eugenia couldn’t believe that she’d been able to sit and converse with that…entity for a full fifteen minutes without losing her mind. She was ashamed to admit that the thin facade of humanity that the creature wore had barely saved her, because if she’d been made of stern enough stuff she wouldn’t have left the Temple-Warriors.

Eugenia kind of wanted to cry right now, overwhelmed by feelings of horror and relief at her own survival, but that would ruin her make-up and she didn’t really have the time to redo it all before she met the next set of parents. So she didn’t. Eugenia just took several deep breaths, and then practiced pasting fake smiles onto her face in the mirror, until they started looking convincing.

As Eugenia finally left the bathroom, she wondered what the creature wanted. Was it genuinely here for little Alexandra’s sake? Was it actually the girl’s Uncle? That couldn’t be so, could it? Based on the paperwork the school had, the girl was an orphan. Was there some kind of sinister plot afoot? What the hell was Eugenia supposed to do if that was the case?

These thoughts and many others ran through Eugenia Bailey’s mind as she made her way through the rest of the parent-teacher consultations she had going for the evening. The thing that puzzled her the most, was the fact that the strange entity genuinely seemed to care for the girl. That came completely from left field. In any case, Eugenia decided that she’d contact some of her friends in the faith, to see if they could find out anything.