Infernal Academia

Chapter 21 - The PTM from Hell

The dreaded PTM.  It was one of those rare events that was dreaded by students, their parents and their teachers in equal measure.  Students hated the idea of their educators and their progenitors communicating.  Parents hated having to listen to someone recite the failings of their darling children.  And teachers just hated having to spend hours compiling plans and reports on their classes.  For the longest time, Cobalt didn't quite understand why the Parent-Teacher Meeting was such a big deal for the ones teaching the students.

Until, of course, he found himself seated on the other side of the educator's desk.

For a class like 2-A, the PTM was probably a breeze, considering how many straight A students filled its ranks.  Even 2-B through 2-E was looking to have an easy year regarding behavioural records and the like.

2-F, on the other hand...

"Arson, arson, tardiness, rude remarks, arson, general belligerency, arson... hm..." the Incubus remarked, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he swiped through the stack of behavioural reports on the desk in front of him.

Through the walls of the classroom, he could hear that the school was abuzz with the sounds of parents travelling from room to room, checking in on their childrens' various teachers and learning of their progress in their studies.  He had already witnessed a Fallen mother figuratively explode upon learning of her child's poor manners in class, and he had also seen an Oni father literally explode when he had been informed that his son had been dealing redreed behind the dorms.

Sometimes, parents could be scarier than their children.  And that didn't bode well for the teacher of one of the worst classes in the school...

Cobalt checked his watch.  Five minutes to eight.  Oh boy.

"This is going to be fun," he muttered dryly to himself, readjusting his wheelchair and locking eyes with the door at the far end of the classroom.

----- 

Three meetings in, and Cobalt was faced with the first individual that made him shrink down into his wheelchair.  She was an imposing Oni woman standing at almost seven feet tall, but that wasn't the most notable thing about her, oh no.  She had deigned to dress herself in the kind of traditional Oni battle garb that the Incubus had only seen pictures of in his History books; a crossed chestwrap, a sweeping skirt that reached down to the ankles, and a pair of bronze bracers adorned with spikes.  Dozens of knives clinked on the two belts wrapped around her waist as she approached, and as Cobalt nervously gestured for the Oni woman to take a seat, she planted both hands on her hips and cocked her head.  Her exposed arms and midriff were covered in tattoos, and the way she glared at him nearly caused his heart to stop.

"Trayer, yeah?" she asked in a commanding tone, ignoring the proffered chair.

"U- Um... Yes, that's me.  A- And you are...?" Cobalt replied, nervously eyeing up the many, many knives she had on display.

She clucked her tongue and casually cracked her knuckles, creating a sound not unlike a racking shotgun.

"Figured you'd be bigger," the Oni commented.

Her face seemed familiar, and going by the thick Italian-American accent she bore...

"Are you... Izzbelle's mother?" the Incubus asked in a shaky voice.

She nodded, folding her arms in a most intimidating fashion.

"Yeah.  Aelda Suyas."

Swallowing hard, Cobalt began to fiddle with the various folders on his desk.