A/N: I wrote this chapter in one sitting because I got so excited. Hope you enjoy!

"Hey…"

The voice in their head is quiet and Byleth still believes themselves to be dreaming. They roll over in their sleep, things still fuzzy. Their dream went poorly, and maybe if they just take a few more minutes, they can drift back in and fix things…

"Hey!"

Byleth dreams of a corporation whose skyscraper is so prestigious that it ascend past the clouds. Men in suits scramble from their cubicle towards the elevator in a panic, but to their dismay the very thing they seek to avoid waits for them when the metal doors slide open: an uncouth looking man flanked by ten of his elites.

They advance onto the main floor of the corporate office menacingly, as if they own it, already barking commands.

Something about a buyout, or a coup, if you would. But despite the havoc, the CEO, a towering woman with yards of green hair wrapped tightly into a bun, marches forward with sheer determination in her eyes.

There's some kind of loophole, something that makes it so the bearded man can't buy… Byleth doesn't really get it. At this point, the summary is just, like — whatever. Byleth has never worked corporate; Jeralt has always said to be wary of anyone who has to wear a suit to work…

...though recently Jerlat made an addendum to that — dress shirts and skinny jeans are also bad news. Something to do with how Los Angeles' casual business code has trickled down to the East Coast and —

"God dammit, Byleth! Are you listening to me?!"

Okay, seriously, what is that? Byleth jerks awake and sees nothing but the door to their room. So they knock the blanket off and storm about their territory in an angry circle. They stomp about so aggressively that they bump their big toe into one of the cinder blocks holding their bed up.

(The cinder blocks are also Jeralt's idea. Byleth and their father share an apartment in New York wthat is so comically small, that they needed to boost their beds up so they could fit storage underneath.)

As Byleth yowls in pain, a girlish voice shrieks in their ear. "You idiot! Your father makes you sound like the most skillful barista there ever was, yet here you are walking in to bricks!"

Byleth pinches their lips together, holding back a biting insult, and throws themselves back onto the bed. The voice belongs to this AI, Sothis. It is unclear how it happened, but at some point in Byleth's life, their brain got chipped. For whatever reason, it apparently took several years before Sothis gained enough consciousness to be a voice in Byleth's head, and now she never shuts up.

It's weird though, having a voice in your head. Sometimes Byleth forgets that no one else can hear Sothis and says thing to her out loud, but really all they need to do is think it and Sothis will listen.

Just before Byleth can launch into a tirade, their door creaks open and their father, Jeralt, peeks his head in. "Hey, kid. Heard you stomping around, what's got you so up in arms?"

Byleth blinks. This is probably not the moment to tell their father about the weird robot —

— "I'm not a robot, you dolt." —

— in their head… God, would you give it a rest?

"No. I will not give it a rest. So there!"

Ugh.

Byleth can't think of anything so they sort of short circuit and just shrug Jeralt's remark away.

"Huh. Okay. Well, uh," Jeralt frowns, watching Byleth cautiously. He always watches them like they might explode. "I'm going to make some coffee so you better get ready to go in the next five minutes."

Byleth just stares.

Jeralt's frown sinks even deeper. "Kid, don't tell me you forgot about your interview today."

It's really embarrassing that Jeralt is going to the interview with Byleth. By this point in their barista career, Byleth knows how to handle themselves. Granted, they're not the best with — erm — schmaltzy corporate talk — so having Jeralt around might help, especially because the joint they're hitting up is some new independent place owned by a guy Jeralt used to work with.

It's also possible that Jeralt is going for broke and will try to net a job alongside Byleth. They could honestly both use the money right now.

They stand together on the subway in silence, the cart packed to the brim, leaving only the railings for riders to hold. Byleth kind of wants to practice another roleplay with their dad, but Jeralt is positively steaming at the sight of the many Wall Street monsters trapped in the cart with them. It's very rare for either Jeralt or Byleth to be on the same train as these 9-5 fuckos given the odd hours of customer service jobs, and clearly Jeralt is not yet adept at controlling his disdain for these people, so he keeps his mouth shut.

After a while, Byleth wanders over to one of the mirrors. It's dusty and riddled with etched-on obscenities, but they can at least catch their reflection in it.

Did they put too much make-up on? They were feeling cat-ears for eyeliner as they rushed out of the bathroom this morning, but taking a second to really look at it — it's a little too femme. Well, they're feeling femme but… will the employer get it? Sometimes people don't understand how Byleth can be non-binary and just she/her them anyways, and —

"You look fine," Sothis chides. "Those people can suck a bag."

The rumble of the train makes it hard for anyone to much of anything that isn't plugged directly into their ears, so Byleth chances talking out loud. "I'm nervous."

"I know," Sothis says. "Actually, I have a tip for you."

Byleth leans in closer to the mirror and pats down some of the split ends in their long, blue hair. "Yeah?"

"Get off one stop early. Don't ask me why — something's telling me it's a good idea."

Sothis always gives Byleth advice that objectively sounds really bad, but usually the robot… erm… the AI —

— "Please. I'm a goddess!" —

— is right. So Byleth turns towards their father and waves him down. "Dad?"

Sothis' idea sucks.

Because Jeralt and Byleth get off one stop early, they bump into a kerfuffle they wouldn't have seen otherwise. Some grubby looking man with three ponytails (ew) looks to be harassing these three people that are Byleth's age. One blonde dude, one brown guy with a side ponytail (nice), and a white haired girl. But the twenty-somethings are all dressed to the nines in these gorgeous suits.

Jeralt pulls Byleth in closer so that they can ignore it — Google Maps says that their little excursion cost them five minutes of padd and now they need to hustle to make it on time— but Byleth can't just look away from this. So Byleth stops and asks Jeralt to table the interview for both of them.

Jeralt shrugs because he probably has a better shot at getting them both gigs than if they came in separately.

"What seems to be the hold-up?" Byleth crosses their arms once they breach the inner-circle of these people.

The burly one, the aggressor, looks to them. Dim recognition flashes in eyes. "H-hey! I know you! You're Barista Jeralt's kid!"

"B-Barista Jeralt?" Byleth stutters.

The burly man reaches forward and grabs Byleth's hand, almost yanking it off the wrist for a shake. "I'm Kostas! Owner of Kostas' Coffee! You should get to know these fellas right here."

The white haired girl leers at Kostas and shakes her head, violet eyes swinging over to Byleth. "Edelgard Von Hresvelg," she cracks a small smile, extending a white gloved hand to the stunned Byleth.

"Who wears white gloves? What is she — Mickey Mouse?" Sothis blurts out in Byleth's head.

"More like Scrooge McDuck, Von Hresvelg is a huge coffee conglomerate thing," Byleth thinks back.

The blond boy shakes Byleth's hand next. He definitely looks the part of a young businessman, what with his neatly cropped hair and perfect complexion. "Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, next in line to run Blaiddyd Industries," he grins, and then jerks his head towards Edelgard. "As Edelgard is next in line to run her family's respective company."

A little wrinkle of irritation knits itself between Edelgard's eyebrows. "I didn't say anything about that because this is the daughter of Barista Jeral— "

Byleth meekly raises their hand. "Offspring!" they cut in.

Edelgard eyes Byleth curiously, and then smiles to herself. "This is the offspring of Barista Jeralt — of course they'd know the Von Hresvelg line."

Dimitri shakes his head. "Your hubris will one day be the death of — "

"Hey! I'm here too!" the other boy chimes in, waving his hand in the air enthusiastically. "Claude von Riegan's the name. We're uh — lesser known in this neck of the woods, but over in Cali — top notch stuff! Anyways, nice to meet ya, Byleth."

Kostas leans in and throws both of his arms over the gang's shoulders. "Come. Have coffee with me."

It takes several minutes for the gang to suss out the details while Kostas escapes to the backroom to grab some coffee for the four of them, but basically Kostas is poaching them?

Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude are all going to be attending the famed barista school at Garreg Mach where they can get some hands-on experience in running a coffee shop. The school shares its leadership with Seiros Incorporated, the always expanding coffee brand ran by the woman only known as Rhea.

Students at Garreg Mach are given the opportunity to run her stores. Some call it a scam intended to shave business costs with free labor, others call it the most important coffee experience a young barista can have.

Though Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude all have high up opportunities waiting for them, Kostas is offering them a deal — work for him, make lots of money, and ditch Garreg Mach.

Byleth thinks that Kostas is a weasley jerk — but working for Seiros Incorporated? Just the idea of it would make Jeralt vomit. Those guys are so corporate that they have one of those social media accounts that pretends to be a real person.

"I am unsure of how I feel towards Seiros Incorporated," Edelgard frowns as she empties a packet of Stevia into her coffee. "But it is the center of the coffee making world."

"True that," Claude leans back, arms folded over his head. "Those are the kinda guys you want to rub elbows with."

Byleth raises an eyebrow. "Why do you all want to work in a coffee shop so badly? It kind of sucks."

Dimitri almost spits out his coff—oh, he actually does spit it out. It takes him a moment to recover.

"Byleth," Dimitri announces boldly. "The three of us may be entrepreneurs-to-be — but we don't want to be like those other CEOs who have no hands-on experience. Look at this horrible man we have here…"

Dimitri gestures over to Kostas, who also performs his own spit take. He's more angry about his spit take though.

"...never in a million years would any of us consider working with him," Dimitri explains. "But here we are. Sharing a cup of coffee, and I am glad we are, Kostas. It reminds me why I want to run Blaiddyd Industries. I want to bring people together and — "

" — oh, already poaching Barista Jeralt's offspring, are you, Dimitri?" Edelgard teases.

A faint pink crawls up Dimitri's cheeks and he turns away. "Please, Edelgard. Let me say what I must."

"Hmph," Edelgard chuckles. "Byleth, forgive my being forward — but Von Hresvelg Incorporated has suffered from a long line of inadequate leaders, the last being my father whose power was stripped away after a hostile takeover from the boardroom. We need people like you on our team. People who are humble."

"Humble?" Byleth repeats. "How do you know I'm — "

"You didn't even know that your father was the Barista Jeralt," Edelgard shrugs noncommittally. "Winner of the International Barista Championship Ten Years in a row, famous for refusing opportunities from esteemed coffee companies like my own in fact, that is… until Rhea Incorporated came along."

Byleth feels a knot twist into their stomach. "My father worked for Rhea Incorporated?"

Claude nods. "Yeah, man. Dude turned into a total schill for a hot second — " he pauses when he notices the death glares from Edelgard and Dimitri, and then flashes a cavalier grin to Byleth and jerks a thumb over at the nonplussed royals. " — they still think it's cool to work for big money."

Byleth raises an eyebrow. "But aren't you inheriting your family's business too?"

Claude shrugs. "Eh, look at it this way — Edelgard and Dimitri are like — Kroger and Albertson's. I'm the Trader Joe's in all this."

Byleth narrows their eyes; Jeralt warned them never to trust those Hawaiian shirts.

"Hey!" Kostas pounds the table. "I'm still here, you jerks! Come on! Do you want to work for me or what?"

Dimitri snorts. "I think we made ourselves quite clear already."

"Yeah man, learn to read the room," Claude laughs.

And as the finishing blow, Edelgard titters into her mug. "You must be quite foolish to think you can sway us. I, for one, am going to use my coffee company to change the world, starting off with eliminating the corporate structure of — "

Kostas' face gets so red that he gets up with a start and lifts his coffee mug into the air and —

"Byleth, don't you dare get in the way of that coffee flying towards that smug little girl!"

— Byleth rushes forward, gently patting Edelgard on the chest so that they can squeeze themselves in-between the table and the girl —

"Oh my god! Byleth, you are going to get us both ki—"

Splash.

The burn is unbearable.

Fortunately, Sothis apparently has the ability to turn back the hands of time.

Yeah. Crazy, right?

It just drains a lot of battery, so Byleth has to like — find out how to charge the chip and stuff.

But yes! Time rewind!

This time, Byleth brings their own mug over when they wedge themselves between Edelgard and the table. They swing it at the air and miraculously scoop Kostas' flying stream of coffee clean out of the air. Byleth then flips the mug into their open palm and holds it up to Kostas' nose.

"Would you like cream or sugar?" Byleth smiles.

Kostas gets even redder. "You — "

It's just then that the doors burst open, and a large man with beady eyes and a silly mustache saunters in. "Your unethical coffee shops day are over, Kostas! Or should I say — pour over! Ha ha ha! Um. Get it? Pour… over…?"

No one laughs.

Kostas swipes at the air and lurches forward. "You got nothing on me!"

"I'm afraid I do," the mustachioed man holds a contract out to the air. "Health inspection violations, and I also have intel that you skimmed tips from your employees. Therefore — "

Crash.

Kostas jumped out a window. It's a dramatic world they live in.

"Why do they always run?" the man turns on his heel and charges forward, only to bump into Jeralt whose girth takes up the whole exit. "Wha — wait! Barista Jeralt! Barista Jeralt the Brew Breaker?! What are you doing here?"

"Huh?" Jeralt pats his head. "Who are — wait — Alois?! What are you doing here?"

The man, Alois, thumps himself on the chest. "Barista Jeralt — I am honored to say that thanks to your mentorship I am now one of the heads of the anti-corruption team over at Seiros Incorporated!"

Jeralt frowns and glances at the broken window. "You must have a thrilling life."

"I do!" Alois laughs, he starts to say something else but Jeralt promptly cuts him off.

"Hey, kid, I messed up the interview," Jeralt frowns. "Want to grab a beer with me closer to the apartment?"

Byleth frowns back. "Am I twenty one yet?"

Jeralt finds a way to frown back harder. "Oh. Um. I don't know. No one knows when you were born. Anyways, let's — uh — let's get going."

Claude leans in and whispers into Byleth's ear, "You're totally twenty one, my friend."

Jeralt's frown falls so far down that he looks like an upside down. "Hey, don't go giving them ideas, it's private and uh — hey! Kid! Let's get going!"

Alois wipes some of the sweat from his brow. "Well, be seeing you, I guess — hey… wait a second, that's not how this ends! I insist that you come with us to Garreg Mach!"

Jeralt frowns again, but a little softer this time. "I guess we should, huh? With me blowing the gig and crap… okay. Yeah. Even I know not to run from the Baristas of Seiros."

The thing that impresses Byleth the most about all of this is that none of the Baristas of Seiros — which includes Edelgard, Claude, and Dimitri — take the train. It's Lyft and Uber for them all the way, baby!

They don't even ask for Byleth and Jeralt's accounts to split the bill! Crazy.

For whatever reason, Alois pushes for the two unemployed baristas to meet the CEO of Seiros Industries, which is — a lot? But at this point, Byleth just kind of wants to see what crazy shenanigans come from this.

The CEO — Rhea — has a massive office. It almost feels like it must take up its own story in this building. An ornate rug rolls across the floor, and the walls are adorned by paintings that are — pretty religious. Kind of gives Byleth the heebie jeebies.

After about one minute of walking, the green haired woman, Rhea — who looks remarkably similar to the woman from their dreams — gets up and marches towards the duo with an outstretched hand. Decked out in pinstripes, she is emblematic of the girl boss. Byleth wouldn't be surprised if this was a woman that yelled at baristas every day after they mess up her 140 degree cafe misto with coconut milk that is light on the foam.

Rhea grins from ear to ear and says, "Jeralt — it's so good to see you again! And you must be — Jeralt's child?"

Byleth blinks. They got distracted by the immaculate view of New York that lies just beyond the glass wall. Byleth double takes and looks Rhea right in the eye. It gives them chills. "Yes."

"Byleth was born several years after my time working for you, heh," Jeralt adds awkwardly.

Rhea looks up at Jeralt, seemingly confused, but shrugs it away. "Either way, it's good to meet the two of you. I know this is a little fast, but I need your help."

Jeralt bites his lip, but doesn't say anything. Very unlike him. He's usually the one to blurt out inappropriate things at the worst of times. Like the time he handed a coffee to some off-duty cop and called them "a fucking fascist."

"At the Barista's Academy this year, we have Three Houses for the Three Coffee Shops we've collected — Von Hresvelg, Von Riegan, and Blaiddyd. But we are missing a professor."

Tsch, a Professor job for Jeralt? He'd be really bad at that —

Rhea suddenly turns on Byleth. "I want you to help teach them."

Things pass by so quickly.

Byleth is hired to be a professor to baristas with very little ceremony. Quickly, they are ferried over to Garreg Mach via a Lyft. Jeralt says nothing to Byleth the whole ride.

Jeralt has been hired to help out on Alois' anti-corruption team. Probably a good job for him, though it seems like the Baristas of Seiros mostly target smaller, independent coffee shops like Kostas… so maybe it's a bad job for him.

As the Lyft pulls up to the rustic looking academy, Jeralt heaves in a deep sigh. "Looks the same as ever."

Byleth gives their father a meaningful look.

Jeralt looks back and pats them on the shoulder. "I know you must have a lot of questions by now — I'll answer them. But first off, let's get you settled."

Meeting the two other professors is something of a relief. They seem far more grounded than the hoity toity Rhea and her assistant with all of that flop-sweat, Seteth.

Professor Hanneman is quite old, with a fine swoop of snow white hair above his receding hairline. The monocle is a bit much, but from his worn hands, it is clear to Byleth that the man has been working in coffee shops for a long time now. Apparently, he is highborn enough to have been able to afford one of the Ivy Leagues. He studied to be an economist, but learning more made him only feel more disdain for the corporate conglomerates that are seizing the economy by the throat. He writes academic papers at a consistent rate, but no one cares to read them so here he is, living paycheck to paycheck while he waits for something to finally happen for him.

"I'm surprised Rhea hired me," Hanneman says at the end of his spiel. "A lot of my ideals go up against hers — but then again, I suppose we are just training these kids to be baristas and shift managers." He takes in a sip of tea. "Oh and CEOs. How could I possibly forget?"

The other Professor, Manuela, slaps him in the bicep, laughing as he doubles over in pain.

"Manuela, I am too old now for your abuse," Hanneman whines.

Manuela pointedly ignores him. "You're just too funny, Hanneman."

Manulea and Byleth have one thing in common — their ages are both mysteries even though it's really obvious how old they are. Manuela is likely in her early 40s. Head shaped like a heart, crows feet and laugh lines etching into her face, she seems content with where she is right now. She's lived in New York her whole life, and for a long time, was a major player on Broadway. But after a while, she got a little sick of it — as to why, she wouldn't say — and picked up some barista work after having found so much joy in coffee shops herself.

And Byleth, the child of Barista Jeralt the Brew Breaker, is a broke twenty something who has been working since they were (probably) fourteen (who knows really? Ugh.) Their father has definitely pulled a few — questionable — things on them, but they're thankful for it. They're thankful for everything nowadays.

"You know, Professor," Hanneman says. "Do you mind if I call you Professor, by the way? I think it's fun, seeing how young you are."

"I don't mind," Byleth shrugs.

"Excellent, anywho, Professor," Hanneman beams at them. "Your personality type tells me that you should lead the Golden Deer — that's Claude's House. They are mostly middle-class people who just want to work. However, the Black Eagles, lead by Edelgard, are — well let's just say some of them haven't worked a day of their lives."

Byleth pales. Edelgard does seem like the type.

Hanneman continues, "I think it would do them — and possibly you — the most good if you taught them. They need someone like you."

Byleth thinks about it.

Earlier, Edelgard was saying something about dismantling the corporate hierarchy. That would be a good thing. But Edelgard is also high born, and likely not to follow her word if she is to eventually sit at such a high seat. Maybe with some guidance from a scrappy kid like Byleth…

Byleth grins and clinks mugs with Manuela and Hanneman. "I choose Edelgard!" they cheer.

"Uh — Byleth, honey, I think you mean you choose the Black Eagles," Manuela chastises.

"Oh, um, right," Byleth raises their mug high to hide the blush, and though Hanneman and Manuela are merciful enough not to laugh at their expense, Byleth does notice their fellow professors' smiles stretch a little past the rim of their mugs.

There is a knock at Byleth's door at exactly eleven twenty seven.

That same night, Byleth cannot sleep. They've been put up in his bedroom that is possibly the size of their whole apartment. Jeralt gave Byleth the option to come home with him for one last night in the old digs before he breaks the lease, but Byleth would rather just not have a formal goodbye to that grimy room.

So though it is rude to knock on one's door past eleven, Byleth is thankful for the company. They open the door to see Edelgard, still dressed in her suit, though at least the top button has been undone.

"Hello, Professor," Edelgard says softly.

"Um… hi," Byleth frowns. "Is — is something the matter?"

"Huh? Oh, oh no, not at all," Edelgard leans up against the door frame, a little presumptuously. "I'm just tired. I, ah, received a text message from Hubert that you will be leading our class this year?"

Byleth nods.

"Excellent," Edelgard smiles. "I'm not sure if they told you, but within two weeks, we will be competing with the other houses in a barista championship. The winner will get to work at the high traffic location at Times Square."

"Wow," Byleth utters. This is all so much.

"We will need to train hard if we want to win," Edelgard throws a hand to her hip. "The Golden Deer class has so many former baristas in their roster, like Ignatz, Raphael, Hilda, and I think even Claude, though he might have been a bartender."

"What about you?" Byleth asks suddenly.

Edelgard eyes Byleth carefully. "Wh-what about me?"

"H-have you worked?"

It feels a little bold to ask, but it is important for Byleth to at least know what they are working with if they are serious about doing well here.

"O-oh, no, not yet, I'm embarrassed to say."

Hmph. Lotta talk from someone who wants to destroy the corporate structure. But then again, there is no reason to be judgmental and besides, Byleth chose Edelgard for a reason. They'll give them as many chances as they need.

"It's okay," Byleth smiles. "You will. Starting tomorrow."

"Good," Edelgard nods.

A heavy pause passes between them. It feels like it's time to say good night, at least — if this were a normal student - teacher dynamic.

"I'm just worried about the others is all," Edelgard says in a hurry. "Caspar can be so brutish, he has a very poor track record with customer service. And Linhardt despises coffee because it makes it harder for him to take naps — and Ferdinand hates coffee. Then again, I think he only hates it because Hubert loves coffee so much and —"

"Edelgard?"

" — honestly Ferdinand just seems to dislike what other people seem to — oh, sorry, you said something?"

Byleth tries to stiffen their spine a little, look a little more tough. They are probably the same age as Edelgard and they even probably share many of the same insecurities, but if this is to work out then… they will need to stow those feelings away and be strong. That's like — Lesson #1 of Capitalism:

Emotional Labor sucks but you have to take it on.

"We'll win," Byleth fakes a smile, not knowing if that's true. "Get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

Thankfully, Edelgard doesn't catch the obvious lie. Possibly because she seems worn out enough to believe just about anything at this hour. She presses her hands to thighs and politely bows forward.

"Thank you, my teacher."

A/N: I just want to take this space to make a few things clear. I am currently planning on doing this chapter-for-chapter, and because Crimson Flower is 18 chapters, this will probably be 19 unless something crazy happens, or I think I can fit one of the Paralogues in really well.

I am taking a few creative liberties with this, which you kind of see in the Kostas scene, and the scene where Hanneman actually picks the House for Byleth.

I am not sure yet if anyone will die. I do intend on having some really scary corporate terrorism in this, so we'll see. For the most part, I am going to try keeping this really fun. So expect some slice-of-life, some jokey jokes, some romance, and some action.

I am writing this because I recently picked up an internship with a labor union. Most of my activism is connected to environmental efforts, so this is kinda new for me. I figured writing a story about this kind of work might help me out.

Anyways, thanks for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think!