Returning to No Applause, Only More of the Same

Things had been going well for Kreig.

Especially so in his private studies where his progress had been staggering to watch, in all likelihood due to his immense drive to learn. Of course, this did vary from subject to subject, but as a whole, he viewed his studies more or less as an extension of his free time, even though he personally had no real concept of work-life balance. To him, work was life.

As such, he held no distaste for working even when he would usually read or paint.

In other words, he did very well while studying, even without Erica present. Though, as might be expected, with her present, he worked as hard as he possibly could. It was rare that he asked her things nowadays. This was not only out of an irrational desire to show her that he knew what he was doing but also because he had learnt how to find his answers on his own, even when it seemed a bit unclear.

It was on one such afternoon, during a break that Erica had almost demanded they implement (otherwise Kreig would simply burn himself out on work), that the two of them found themselves on the couch, each cradling a mug of coffee with differing amounts of sugar and cream in it. Unlike their common arrangement, Erica had made it herself as Kreig had never had coffee in the other world.

The pastries lying somewhat haphazardly on the coffee table, however, were all made by Kreig. Stretching her arm over the open pages of her book, Erica grabbed one such pastry before stuffing it into her mouth. This tutoring job was totally worth taking even if Kreig had turned out to be a horrible kid - the food was just that good.

She glanced over at Kreig. Of course, his presence was also very worth it. If he’d been some spoiled little government-raised brat she might just have thrown the books in his face the second he tried something. Luckily, Kreig wasn’t like that. He was just a guy. A supremely strange and mysterious guy, but a guy to be sure. He’d been growing quieter as of late, but that was only because he was more focused on his work. He really was doing exceptionally well.

Anytime she brought him a test or anything he just flew through it. Well, sometimes he got so nervous he couldn’t even put the pen to paper, but she learnt pretty quickly that if she just talked to him a little first about the subject, he’d loosen right up.

What a strange guy.

Her hypothesis on his condition remained shrouded in mystery, though she had accepted the idea that he was some sort of secret painter or something. In all honesty, even though she was the curious type in every regard, as of right now, she couldn’t think of any possible answer that would make her leave. Well, maybe if he was a secret terrorist or something, but she didn’t think so. Kreig was nice. He was also a good student.

Yes, a very good student. That was the most important thing, right? No matter how good of a person he was, the fact that he was a good student was what kept her there. Yup, that’s how it was. Definitely.

Erica sipped her black coffee and glanced at Kreig. The man could barely take a sip of the coffee without frowning deeply, even though the coffee was like 90% cream and sugar. Well, more like 89,99% cream and a single molecule of sugar, but anyway. On that note, it seemed Kreig had a certain dislike for sweets since he avoided most of the pastries. Oh well. More for her! Erica shoved a few more pastries down her gullet. She should probably cut back, but she definitely wouldn’t.

This silence was a little concerning though. She knew Kreig didn’t speak much, and she obviously didn’t mind sitting in silence with him, but it did feel a little too quiet. And it wasn’t as though she didn’t have any questions for him, like “How the hell do you have time to work out?” or “Why would you go into teaching?” and “How have I not dissuaded you from such a treacherous path?”

In the end though, she could only bring herself to ask one question. “Uh, you got into teaching, right? How’s that working out for you?”

Kreig tried to stall for time by taking a sip of coffee only to instantly furrow his brows and scrunch his nose. Next time, Erica would make tea or something. This wasn’t working. “I enjoy it. It reminds me of my time training soldiers.”

...Training soldiers?

Erica quickly rewrote her entire backstory for Kreig. Okay, so he wasn’t just a painter, no, he was some sort of sergeant, too. Maybe he rose in the ranks of the military or secret service or whatever by using his painting skills to sway the hearts of commoners and terrorists alike, becoming a secret weapon or something? It was possible. No, knowing his paintings, it was almost obvious.

“The students haven’t been giving you any hard time?” Erica asked carefully, trying not to remember her own time as a teacher. “If they say anything mean, report it to the headmaster. He probably won’t do anything but then you can write in your evaluation that he willingly ignored your warnings. Gives you the upper hand.”

Kreig stared at her for a moment, and for some reason, he felt speechless. “I have had no need to report anything to anyone. The students are most kind to me.”

Erica wasn’t sure if he was just saying that to calm her down or if that really was the case. Or, possibly, he might just not understand that what the students are doing to him is harassment. Knowing Kreig, that was equally plausible. “Mm, okay, but if anyone says anything you’re not sure about, make sure to make a harassment report, okay? Doesn’t matter if it was a joke, you can still squeeze money outta them.”

“I see…” Kreig scratched his head and almost made to sip his coffee before realizing his mistake and putting the cup down on the coaster. “No, the students are not like that. They treat me very well, despite my obvious inexperience. Furthermore, these past days, they have begun growing braver, suggesting various games for us to play. It is most refreshing.”

Erica thumbed her lip. “Hmmm, well, yeah, I guess you could call them brave…” Noticing that Kreig was staring at her, she quickly waved her hands dismissively. “No, No, I just… Well, I worked there for a short period of time when I just finished college. Painstone, right? Yeah, I’d recommend you try to get into some other school. I know this city needs an international school or two, but working willingly at one of them is… It’s admirable, I guess?”

Kreig was still staring at her. “I-, I just… Look, I’m gonna be honest. When I worked there, every single kid I met was a dick. Straight as that. I know it’s different from year to year, but literally every kid I met was just a total dick. And then I switched to another school, and it was the same thing there! Dicks to me, dicks to each other, dicks to their family… I couldn’t stand it. Just-, just look out for it okay?”

“I don't think they’re… That way anymore.” Kreig seemed to genuinely be trying to search his memories for any evidence of them acting like the dicks Erica knew they were. “Forgive me, I can’t seem to remember any such occurrence. Even more so, I am rather close with one of the students, whom I can say for sure is not… Like that.”

Yeah, sure. Like Erica could believe that. That school couldn’t change if you hit it with a mortar shell.

While Erica mentally thought about bombing a school, Kreig seemed to have thought of something. “In what mental state were you when you began teaching?”

“Huh?” What sorta question was that? Of course, she was absolutely exhausted. She could remember wanting a five-year break but only being able to spend a few days in relaxation before having to work again. In fact, just three days after her graduation, she had sought a job as a teacher for a few summer courses. Few attended the courses she held, but each and every one of them would much rather have been anywhere else. Of course, during this time, she also had two part-time jobs that drained her of time and energy.

Then she began working full-time at Painstone. Calling her tired would be a grave understatement. No, she’d felt like a zombie who just crawled out of the grave and was forced to work customer service at a DMV.

She’d wanted to die. That’s for sure.

Kreig, who had only been watching her until now piped up. “Were you in any state to comprehend the personalities of students?”

“Of course-,” she wasn’t. It was only now that she had a semi-stable job and could think about it in this clear state of mind that she could even consider it. She’d been distressingly overworked. Working full-time as a teacher and part-time as whatever was open. Why, if she’d met Kreig as she was then, she’d probably think he was a dick too: barely talking, making her job harder by hardly asking questions, not understanding things as quickly as she would have liked…

Anyone can be a dick if you’re tired enough.