Sothis was not especially helpful.

"What? We're pretty sure I'm some sort of Goddess, right? I don't know if I even have a father. What makes you think I have any idea what to get?" She said with a tone bordering on contempt.

Frankly, Byleth was still pretty sure she was just named after the goddess, but whatever. He kept his thoughts as flat as possible and hoped Sothis got the picture.

Her voice took on a distinctly mocking tone. "You want to use Divine Pulse to go back to a time when you didn't know about this holiday?"

Byleth felt a reluctant spike of amusement that was echoed in Sothis' answering triumph. "Maybe," he finally responded when it became clear that was all she was willing to offer, even in jest, "Good to keep that option open at least."

"What option?" Claude asked from directly behind him, scaring Byleth half to death and sending his hand to his unbeating heart. Byleth was fairly good about not answering Sothis aloud but he hadn't heard Claude approach at all, which was actually pretty impressive. Byleth made a mental note to ask Claude to help with Raphael's stealth training.

Claude peered over at the now-hunched Byleth curiously. "You know your face doesn't change at all, even when you flinched? It's very interesting, if somewhat concerning."

At this Byleth did finally crack, unable to stop the fond eyeroll that seemed omnipresent around his ridiculous deers.

At this point Byleth knew the students in his homeroom pretty well, and though most of them were still a bit tight-lipped about their pasts, he knew enough to know that no one had it especially easy when it came to family dynamics. Asking point blank about what they typically got their fathers (if anything) was sure to result in, best case scenario, awkwardness, blatant evasiveness, or flat-out terrible suggestions; worst case scenario, tears.

He knew even less about the kids in the other houses but doubted their situations averaged any better. Not to mention that it felt incredibly awful to pry into their pasts for his own selfish gain. He was a teacher now and as such had a responsibility to put his students first, even if it meant the world's worst gift for Jeralt.

Byleth was friendly with most of his father's mercenary company and for most of his childhood they were the closest thing to a family he had outside of Jeralt, but mercenaries were a habitually nomadic bunch; they tended to go off visiting loved ones or making a bit of coin on the side whenever there was a quiet few weeks at the monastery where neither Jeralt nor Byleth needed their help. The few who Byleth knew remained at Garreg Mach currently were not ones he would consider especially close to his father, nor just generally insightful.

Byleth briefly considered using the advice box in the Abbey before gloomily remembering that the reason he even answered those despite feeling woefully unprepared to deal with the daily dramas of students was because literally no one was willing to.

That left staff open. The idea of asking Seteth or Rhea was somewhere between laughably and actively humiliating. The cooks in the dining hall tolerated him monopolizing their kitchen to cook with various students but he distinctly got the impression they were uninterested in him outside of how many fish he was willing to bring them every week.

That didn't leave a ton of options. Byleth decided to start with his favorite staff member.

"Morning, Professor!" rang out the voice of the cheerful gatekeeper stationed at the front gate of the Monastery.

"Hello," Byleth said with a hint of a smile on his normally stoic face.

"Nothing to report!" The gatekeeper continued after returning the smile with his own blinding grin. "Well, except the on-going interhouse skill competition and the break-in, but—"

"I, uh," Byleth interrupted awkwardly, causing the gatekeeper's eyes to immediately widen. Byleth didn't often participate in their conversations. "I was wondering… um, gifts? What kind…?"

Byleth willfully ignored Sothis cackling at his social awkwardness and forced himself to see what the gatekeeper made of his incoherent rambling.

"A gift? For… for me?" The gatekeeper asked, sounding both surprised and flattered. Byleth felt awful; now his social awkwardness was leading on his favorite staff member. There was no way Byleth could let him down after this so with the impulsivity that came with such a magnificent faux pas Byleth nodded his head.

"Yes. A gift. For you." He said, hoping his desperation wasn't audible.

The gatekeeper blushed a charming pink. "Oh! That's so nice, Professor! You don't have to do that!"

"I want to." Byleth responded, and was surprised to find that wasn't at all a lie. The gatekeeper was one of the more consistently pleasant and reassuring people in the whole monastery and Byleth almost felt a bit bad that it had never occurred to him to give him a gift before.

"Oh! Okay, then I guess. Well, I've been kind of excited to try some of the new teas brought by that eastern merchant. I heard they even have coffee! Maybe that…" The gatekeeper continued on, musing enthusiastically about gifts they might like.

So, over the roar of Sothis' amused laughter, Byleth left with a short but comprehensive list of gifts, if, admittedly, for the wrong person.

Byleth decided to approach Manuela next. He wasn't especially confident in her advice, but it was sure to be better than Hanneman's, which usually amounted to a long-winded, crest-related monologue, regardless of what question had actually been asked.

Byleth gave as comprehensive of an overview of the situation as he was willing. He was naturally reticent but also desperate not to lose any more of this month's funding to misunderstandings.

Manuela was predictably delighted at his dilemma, cooing in that theatrical way of hers that landed on just this side of mockery. She seemed to think it over before leaning over the desk currently between them.

"I'll tell you what I would like to give that daddy of yours," she purred with a sultry smile.

Byleth abruptly stood up from his chair and scurried from the office as Manuela's half-joking (at least, he hoped) demand to set her and Jeralt up as a gift for his father rang out behind him. Honestly, this was on him for expecting anything different.

The problem with this particular holiday was that when Byleth was that in the past, whenever Byleth was truly stuck and completely unsure about what do to do, he always, always went to his father for advice.

Maybe just visiting his father would help spark ideas? At this point desperation was starting to settle like lead in Byleth's stomach and the ever-present ticking of the clock reminded him time was running out. It couldn't hurt, he finally decided, and went to his father's office.

Jeralt was sitting at his desk, brow furrowed as he read over a scroll that looked to be some sort of new order from the church. Byleth knocked politely at the doorframe; judging from Jeralt's complete lack of reaction the mercenary had heard him approach.

"Hey, kiddo," Jeralt greeted, eyes finally lifting from the scroll as Byleth entered the room. He reached around behind him and pushed a chair haphazardly around the desk for Byleth to sit in. Byleth quirked a curious eyebrow at that; the last time he had seen these chairs was when he passed by and saw Seteth and Rhea sat in them having some sort of meeting with his irate-looking father. The next time Byleth passed by the chairs were gone and Byleth assumed Jeralt had gotten rid of them.

Noticing Byleth's curiosity (another thing seemingly only his father could do: read Byleth's complete lack of expressions and just know what he meant), Jeralt offered him a crooked, ornery grin. "I was tired of people coming in here and getting comfortable. Meant they stayed longer. But you're always welcome here, kid."

Jeralt's voice had gotten gruff at the end, his tone always betraying his discomfort at anything soft or emotional like this, but his words confirming what Byleth already knew: Jeralt would weather any discomfort to try and be a good father for Byleth. He always had.

Now it was Byleth's turn to do the same. As humiliating as it was to own up to the fact that he had failed at this task so badly as to end up having to ask his father advice on what to get said father on a holiday meant to be celebrating the very concept of fathers, discussing his failure and ending up with an actually useful, wanted gift to give was the type of pragmatic and straightforward problem solving he had learned from Jeralt.

Byleth pulled the chair the rest of the way around the desk and sat down, peering intently at Jeralt.

Jeralt looked half worried and half amused as he looked Byleth's expression over. "You alright? The brats giving you trouble?"

Byleth shook his head. "No, not really. It's to do with Alois, and Leonie, and… well, mostly you."

Jeralt's expression had lost its amusement and gained faint alarm and confusion. "Alois and Leonie? And me?" he asked, sounding baffled.

Byleth took a deep breath and tried to lay it out as plainly as he could without sounding like a complete moron. "Well, it started when Alois approached me because he was wondering what I was getting you for the Day of Paternal Appreciation."

"Ah." Jeralt said shortly, now looking somewhat uncomfortable. Byleth waited a second but it seemed that was all Jeralt had to offer for now.

"…And I had no clue what he was talking about." At this Jeralt winced slightly.

"Sorry, kid. I'll talk to Alois." At this reply from his father, Byleth shook his head irritatedly.

"That's not what I meant. Why not tell me about this when I was a kid?" Byleth's voice was as emotionless as ever, but Jeralt still winced slightly at the slight accusation in the words, an action which Byleth internally mirrored. He absolutely didn't mean to come into this conversation with any sort of blame on his tongue, but here they were.

"Byleth, this is another Serios holiday, which as you know, I don't actually follow anymore and haven't for a long time. Not to mention that we were always moving around and it wasn't always easy to keep track of the days even if I wanted to. You only had income from working as a mercenary with me and while I'm not sorry for teaching you how to fight and keep a level head on the battlefield, the absolute last thing I wanted was for you to waste the money you got from our work on frivolous things for me." Jeralt's voice got distinctly quiet as he continued. "Having my kid safe and near me was more than enough."

This was more than Jeralt typically said in an entire conversation but still Byleth wasn't quite satisfied.

"It wouldn't have been a waste, dad." Byleth said quietly before shaking his head at Jeralt's distinctly uncomfortable expression. Byleth was here to make up for these lost holidays, not make his father feel bad about them. "But I understand, kind of. You wanted to remove yourself from the church as much as possible."

Byleth didn't understand, not really; Jeralt's complicated history with the church was still a mystery to him but the instant relief on Jeralt's face made the fib instantly worth it.

Jeralt nodded and seemed to wait for Byleth to continue, so he did. "But we're here at the monastery surrounded by the teachings of Serios. So I'd like to do something for it this year."

"What did you have in mind?" Jeralt asked curiously.

Byleth's embarrassed despair, which had been completely forgotten in the angst of the earlier conversation, slammed back into him like a brick to the face. "That's the thing… I kind have no clue what to get you."

Jeralt let out a harsh, short bark of a laugh that Byleth knew to be genuine.

"The only thing I've really celebrated so far are various student's birthdays and I doubt you want flowers." Byleth continued.

Jeralt's eye softened minisculely and he shook his head slowly. "No, flowers were more your mother's thing than mine."

"I could take you for tea but…"

"I've always been more of a coffee person." Jeralt finished amusedly.

At that Byleth suddenly sat up ramrod straight in his chair. "I have an idea," Byleth declared with as much enthusiasm as Jeralt had ever heard in his voice. "Are you free for in about an hour or so for a little bit? I know the holiday is technically tomorrow, but I have no clue what Leonie or Alois are planning, and it's a bit late to coordinate with them, so…"

"Sure," Jeralt replied. "But don't think you're getting out of whatever those two have planned. If I have to go along with it, so do you."

Byleth frowned slightly but sighed and nodded in agreement and ran off to retrieve his somehow both early and belated gift.

As much as his father would deny having said something so blatantly sentimental, during their conversation Jeralt had basically said that two things he liked were coffee and Byleth.

They both were so busy now and hardly ever saw each other, whereas as mercenaries they had been practically joined at the hip. Byleth was pretty sure his father missed him almost as much as he missed spending time with Jeralt, mawkish as it was.

He remembered what the gatekeeper had said about the eastern merchant having coffee and set off to acquire the best he could.

It took some haggling and a rather uncomfortable conversation with both Lorenz and Shamir, but Byleth had managed to acquire grounded coffee beans and a special pot to cook them in.

Jeralt seemed relieved to have an excuse to stop working and grinned when he saw what Byleth carried into his office.

Thus began Byleth's and Jeralt's regular coffee breaks.