Professor Layton and the Uncomfortable Teatime

Layton sat on the edge of his couch, cradling a rather warm teacup between his hands. He glanced at the man across from him, waiting for an answer. He had never expected this, not once, and yet…here he was.

"Well, Layton? Aren't you going to offer me a biscuit?"

"Ah, yes. My apologies. Would you fancy a snack?" Layton held up the plate of cookies.

"No, sweets are not to my taste, thank you."

Then why did you ask? Layton thought dully. "Well, Descole…this is certainly a…surprise."

"To you, Layton. Not to me. This has been a long time coming, you see." Descole sipped his tea elegantly. He looked around the room—or rather, Layton guessed that was what he was doing, as his infernal mask put his eyes under constant shadows—and smirked. "How…quaint. I suppose you aren't making very much, are you? You've done rather well despite yourself, then."

Layton frowned. "A true gentleman does not inquire about another's pay, Descole."

"It was rhetorical, Layton. I expected you to realize that—you are a professor, after all. Or was English never your strong suit?" He chuckled.

"Why are you here, Descole?"

"Oh? Tiring of me already? That's no good, Mr. Host." Descole shook his head, tapping his mask with his forefinger. "A true gentleman is always polite, no matter how unpleasant the company."

"A true gentleman also feels no need to cover his face, Mr. Descole. Why won't you tell me who you are? There is no logical reason for this course of action."

"To you, perhaps. However, I am not you, and I therefore have my own reasons for dressing as I do." Descole smiled, running his hands over his furry muffler. "However, I have come today to—"

A door slammed somewhere in the hallway. "Professor! We were let out a bit early today, professor, so I thought I'd come visit you!"

Before Layton could react, Luke's small face appeared around the doorway.

"Good afternoon, professor! I—Descole!" Luke grit his teeth and glared at the man, who merely smiled back at him.

"Ah, your innocent charge has arrived, Layton."

"Why is he here, professor?" Luke asked, still shooting dirty looks in Descole's direction.

"Calm yourself, Luke. He's merely come for a chat. Would you care for a biscuit?" Layton offered the tray. Luke ignored him.

"I don't understand it, professor. Why would you let a villain like him in?" Luke growled, clutching his messenger bag tightly in his small fists.

"Call off your dog, Layton," Descole said placidly, taking another sip of tea.

"Everything is fine, Luke. Go to the kitchen and see Rosa, I'm sure she'll have an after school snack waiting for you," Layton said.

"But professor—" Luke protested.

"Go, Luke," Layton replied. "Please, if you wouldn't mind."

Hesitantly, Luke turned and went back into the hall. Descole gave a loud laugh. "Well done, Layton. And here I thought you were going to invite him in for tea."

"I won't stand for your company much longer if you insist on presenting such an attitude. Why are you here, Descole?"

"Oh, you never liked time wasters, did you, professor?" Descole chuckled. "Well, I can't say I ever have, either."

"Descole…" Layton warned.

"Very well." Descole sighed, placing his teacup carefully on the coffee table. "I shall tell you. You see, after you destroyed the detragigantor, my life's work—"

"If you are trying to make me feel guilty, Descole, you won't succeed. You endangered many people's lives with that contraption."

"In the name of science, professor!"

"It doesn't matter. Your ethics leave quite a lot to be desired. Now, continue. Why did you come?"

"I decided I would pay the man that ruined my life not once but thrice, to see how he and his…ah…little friends were doing. How are they, professor? How is Janice? I see that—what was his name? Ah, Luke—Luke is energetic as ever."

"Are you threatening me, Descole?" The professor put his teacup down.

"No, I am not threatening you, Layton," Descole said with a grimace. "I have no need to threaten you. If I wished to harm your pathetic sheep, I would have done so already. No, I am merely reminding you of what has happened. I do not forgive so easily, professor, and you have wronged me many times. I am merely warning you of what is to come."

"Consider me warned, Descole." The professor adjusted his hat.

"Then, I shall take my leave." Descole stood, his long cape falling around his shoulders.

"Wait, Descole. I have one more question for you."

"What is it, Layton? I am a busy man."

"You said I wronged you thrice. I assume that you are speaking of Ambrosia and Mist Haley, of course. But what was the third wronging?"

Descole smiled bitterly. "I will leave that to your imagination. Good day, Layton." He bowed, then swept out of the room, leaving Layton with naught but his thoughts to accompany him. Whatever had he meant?