Professor Layton | A Proper Young Lady and English Gentleman

[fairyfic]

Rating: G

Fandom: Professor Layton

Characters: Hershel Layton, Flora Reinhold, Luke Triton (mentioned), Augustus Reinhold (mentioned)

Relationships: Hershel Layton & Flora Reinhold

Words: 1,818

Content Warnings: Transphobic parents

Tropes: Trans Character (Hershel Layton & Flora Reinhold), Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Mentioned Character Death, Canon Divergence

Summary: Hershel doesn't seem to understand exactly why Flora is so upset that her father wants her to wear a tuxedo to the family reunion. But, as it turned out, he knows what Flora is going through all too well...


It's 21 days into pride month, and I haven't seen a single Professor Layton fanfic celebrating?! The audacity! What are you guys, cishets?

Okay, jokes aside: I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope you have a lot of fun reading it too! Also, Flora's dad is alive for this, because canon is dead to me and I pick and choose what I want.

---

Flora sat on the professor’s office room couch, swinging her legs and staring at her feet as she waited for Hershel to finish rummaging through his belongings, looking for something. She still couldn’t believe that her father had given whatever he wanted Flora to have to Hershel, of all people. When people see him, famous English gentleman, they expect his office to match his tidy, well-groomed appearance… But the only reason his office hadn’t fallen into absolute chaos yet is because Luke cleaned it up so often. Hershel was a hard worker, but to the unfortunate point of his workplace being a mess from his all-too-often all-nighters.





And this wasn’t just any old thing her father wanted delivered; her family was having a large, upscale reunion, at a nice diner. They used to attend these get-togethers every time they came around every year, but, after her mother passed, either Flora or her father didn’t want to go and see people related to Violet, or have awkward conversations relating to her. This was the first year in a very, very long time that both Flora and her father were willing to go, and her father had given the clothing he had wanted Flora to wear to Hershel, to immediately be lost amongst the horrid mess!





Finally, after around 25 minutes of searching, the professor proclaimed, “Ah-ha!”





The utter relief from his voice sparked a giggle from Flora. “So, did you find my clothing, or did you just find another one of your student’s tests that you thought you had already given back?”





Hershel pointedly ignore that question, instead picking up whatever object of clothing he had found from deep in one of his many drawers, and responding with, “Augustus said you would really enjoy this, but I’m not quite sure. I’ve never seen you wear anything like it… What are your thoughts?”





With that, the professor turned around, and held out the crinkled clothing in his hands. Flora was hit by a wave of shock, immediately followed by disbelief, then fury, then dread.





Her father… Wanted her to wear a tuxedo.





She shouldn’t have been surprised, and she scolded herself for how betrayed and discouraged she felt. Why would she have expected anything different? This was the man who had responding to her coming out with, “I’ll always love and support you, as my child, but… Would you mind keeping this a secret from our family?” This was the same man who had let her grow out her hair, on the condition that she put it in a ponytail and tuck it in a hat whenever anyone ‘important’ was around. Just because Flora had been with the professor more and more these days didn’t mean that, when she returned home, her father would suddenly be as accepting of her being transgender as he claimed to be.





But… That didn’t make it hurt any less. That hadn’t stopped her from feeling suddenly incredibly ill, like she might be sick at any moment. These reunions… They lasted for hours on end. Hours of being misgendered, deadnamed, and being trapped in that awful suit… The idea made her want to hide from her father until this cursed thing was over.





Flora, while she had all of these words swirling in her head, had only stared at the outfit in horror, her eyes widening and her eyebrows furrowing. After a long, long moment of silence, Hershel looked back at the tuxedo, tilting his head a bit. “I mean, if you do wish to wear it, of course, we’d iron it out-”





That thawed Flora out of her frozen state, her face going from cold in shock to burning with frustration. She slammed her hands down onto the couch, which made the professor flinch slightly. “NO! I am not going to wear a tuxedo like some… Some boy!!”





Her voice had gone high-pitched and loud in her state of displeasure, and it certainly seemed to catch Hershel’s off-guard, and his attention. His typically rather rested facial expression shifted to one of shock, then to one of a sort of gentle sympathy. “Now, now, Flora… Your father seemed rather insistent that you’d enjoy this. What would he have to gain by lying?”





Flora looked away, glaring at the wall, and pouting. She was aware that, from the professor’s point of view, she must be acting like a spoilt brat, but she didn’t care. She had the right to be upset over this. She had gone through these sorts of things for her whole life, and, after a certain point, it just hits the point where you’re tired, and you don’t want to deal with it anymore. But just because you’re tired of defending yourself; fighting for your right to exist; doesn’t mean that the world, or your family, or even your friends, will stop treating you as less-than. It was an exhausting cycle. And when people are exhausted, they become irritable.





Hershel sighed softly, and set the suit aside, before joining Flora on the couch. He sat down gently next to her, but not touching her; for fear of making her angrier, perhaps. Or maybe it was just that he was just awkward with physical contact, as Flora had observed.





He turned his head, and he still had that patient, sympathetic expression. And the fact that he was being so nice and patient just made Flora feel worse. “Flora… You know, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to wear something which is typically considered masculine. Your father clearly isn’t judging you if you want to present in such a way, and I’m not either.”





Flora sighed, shaking her head. No, Hershel just didn’t understand, not at all. He thought that he was helping a cis girl come to terms with enjoying wearing boy’s clothing, when, in reality, he was encouraging a transgirl to wear something that would make her feel incredibly dysphoric. He used ‘masculine’ so casually to describe a way she could present, not realizing how that word felt like the air was knocked out of her. ‘Young man’, ‘masculine’, ‘boy’… They all felt like weapons, attacks onto her. Not just her self-esteem; her physical self, as she so often retracts in pain, as if slapped.





Finally, Flora tried to speak again, but still would not look the professor in the eye. “No… No, I would hate wearing that. My father knows that. He… He just likes to think that I would like it, because it’s what he wants of me.”





Hershel seemed to consider that, thinking for a long moment, his eyes drifting up to the ceiling. Flora glanced at him now that he was looking away, and she could see it; the inner workings of a puzzle in his mind.





He looked back at her so fast, she didn’t have time to look away without looking like she was too desperate to avoid eye contact. With hesitance, she finally kept them on the professor.





Hershel’s expression had shifted. Not sympathetic anymore. Empathetic. The words were similar in meaning, but had distinct differences. Sympathy was more so that the feeling was far-removed from oneself. Empathy… It was more like you could feel the other person’s pain; you truly understood how they felt.





Despite this, he seemed to struggle with wording for a moment, before finally asking, “Is… Flora not the name that your father gave you when you were born?” He seemed to be avoiding the actual subject at hand… Trying to not upset her father, perhaps?





Nonetheless… He seemed to be catching on. Flora… Wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She felt the need to look away, but she kept her eyes on the professor, and replied, “No, it was not.”





That, ironically, despite how many people reacted to finding out about her being transgender, made Hershel relax considerably. His shoulders slumped when Flora hadn’t noticed they had been bunched up in the first place, and he let out a small sigh. He then grinned again. “You know, mine was not always Hershel Layton.”





“Yes, I recall. You told me about this after you found out. You were born under the name Theodore Bronev, correct?”





“Actually, Flora…” Hershel’s empathetic expression returned (not sympathy; empathy), and his smile softened. “Theodore was my second name of three.”





Flora took a long moment to comprehend this, furrowing her eyebrows and staring at Hershel, before it hit her what he was implying. But this was not like being called masculine; a mean hit, one to make her feel upset. This was a sort of happy surprise, one that made her heart race and a smile naturally bloom across her face.





All the pieces began to fit together so seamlessly; that is why he always pushed the idea of being a gentleman. Why he had a subtle, but visible, sense of pride in his body language whenever somebody reinforced that notion. It could also be why, despite his very clear fatherly nature, he had no children.





But… Despite that… Here he was. He was a renowned detective, and a teacher as well, and he had his family and so many friends. He was respected, he was admired, he had a future.





Maybe, if he could succeed whilst also staying true to who he is… Then Flora could, too.





Though she hadn’t said anything, the way her expression changed must have tipped Hershel off, for he chuckled fondly. But, immediately after that, it shifted to a sadder, but understanding, look. “I believe I understand why your father wants you to wear that suit… So… How do you feel about me buying you a nice, new dress, for the reunion?”





Flora’s eyes lit up, but the newfound joy was immediately killed by remembering… “The suit. Father insisted on the suit…”





“Well, we can just say that I lost the suit. I mean, that almost happened, nonetheless.”





Hershel’s self-awareness earned a giggle from Flora, and, after it ended, she still found herself grinning. “I… Would like that.”





The professor nodded, before standing up with a grunt. “Well, then, I suppose I should be finding somewhere to put it, then. Perhaps, when Luke grows a bit, he’d enjoy it.”





“If he grows a bit.”





They both shared a little laugh at the jab at Luke’s height, though Hershel tried to make up for it by saying, “Now, now,” as a light scolding afterwards.





Hershel gathered the suit up in his arms, and began to leave to a separate room in the office building, before pausing. He didn’t turn fully around again to face Flora, but he turned his head, looking behind him. “By the way… I am quite happy that you changed your name. Flora is a very fitting name for a proper young lady like yourself.”





Flora felt her heart flutter, and a sense of validation and pride swelled in her chest. She smiled. “As is Hershel for a gentleman.”