#FinalVictor #Ratiorine
"Is it cruelty to tell a fish it cannot fly?"
Aventurine blinked at the question, expression visibly softening. "Huh?"
"If you were watching a fish trying to fly, would it be cruel to say it cannot and return it to water?"
"Is it cruelty to tell a fish it cannot fly?"
Aventurine blinked at the question, expression visibly softening. "Huh?"
"If you were watching a fish trying to fly, would it be cruel to say it cannot and return it to water?"
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Out of pity, he'd suggested the professor should be a little less cruel with feedback.
"A fish graded on its ability to climb a tree or fly will be a failure," Ratio said clearly, returning the paperwork on their desk. "While a few select fish are capable of flight, it's impossible for the majority."
With a fish, flight wouldn't just be impossible, it could be harmful.
It was the concept of doing something badly suited for them? A goal that couldn't be- oh.
"It's mercy," he said out loud.
"Correct," Ratio said suddenly, closing their book and turning away from him. "Five points."
It was a mercy so they didn't become like him.
Give up now, you'll never be a genius. You're only hurting yourselves, while finding the flying fish in the school that could.
As he took Ratio's side, he looked up at the marble bust now fixed back into place.
"What kind of fish am I?"
"You are not a fish."
He laughed.
"You're an octopus."
And he stopped, actually freezing in place.