<Chapter 10>

“Huh?”

I blinked in confusion. Lost? What did he mean?

“I said I was wrong, okay! I’ll sit in the thinking chair. That’s what you told me to do, right?”

“Oh…”

Grumbling, the dragon stomped over and plopped into the chair leaned against the wall.

‘Wait a minute… this means he’s reflecting on his actions, right?’

My dazed heart swelled all of a sudden. Doing my best to keep a neutral expression, I set the hourglass on the child’s knee.

“When all the sand runs out, that means five minutes have passed.”

I guided Ardishu to the table. We started drawing together, and before we knew it, the five minutes were up.

“Do you understand what you did wrong?”

“I won’t call humans pathetic anymore.”

“And threatening the teacher’s life is also a no.”

I spoke firmly. The dragon gave a pouty look but nodded.

“That’s good enough. And hey, if your emotions ever get too much or you get upset, you can always sit in this chair and cool off.”

The thinking chair wasn’t meant to isolate a child as punishment. It was a tool to help them regulate their emotions.

“Oh, right. Will you tell me your name now?”

“A dragon’s true name is a secret. Don’t you know that, even as an adult?”

“Then should I call you Purple Puff? It’s cute, and it really suits you. What do you think?”

The nickname had already become familiar to me. I asked with a bit of hope, but his face scrunched up instantly.

“That’s so childish. Forget it. Just call me Paul.”

“But I thought your true name was a secret?”

“Obviously it’s just a nickname!”

Paul turned away with a huff. Finally, I had a proper name to call him.

‘Paul, huh. Even his name is cute.’

I still didn’t know what kind of emptiness Paul carried.

But from this moment on, our relationship was beginning.

I looked at Paul’s back as he sat quietly, the corner of my lips lifting into a smile.

* * *

Today’s morning snack was potato soup.

The finely blended potatoes gave it a creamy, smooth texture. Chopped vegetables added depth to the flavor, and a dash of pepper brought it all together.

Alongside it was freshly baked, steaming white bread.

It might seem excessive for a snack, but in this world, breakfast culture didn’t exist.

‘How could anyone expect growing kids to skip breakfast?’

As someone raised on hearty Korean meals, that was unacceptable.

“What’s this supposed to be?”

Paul eyed the bread with a skeptical expression and tore off a piece. The bread split along the grain, revealing its fluffy white inside.

Even he froze for a second at how appetizing it looked.

“Try it as-is first, and then dip it into the soup.”

As a certified member of the Nation of Gourmet Palates™, I shared the proper way to enjoy it. Paul, looking doubtful, finally took a bite.

His eyes widened. Then he hurriedly dipped the bread into the soup and took another bite.

“Hey, this is good!”

“Eat slowly. There’s plenty.”

His tail stood straight up, a clear sign he was in a good mood.

Ardishu was eating happily too. She had torn the bread into small pieces and soaked them thoroughly in the soup, like she was savoring the soggy texture.

‘Today’s lesson objective: bond with Paul.’

Since he had only just started opening up, I needed to be proactive.

‘Maybe… maybe no one ever truly acknowledged what Paul lacked.’

Even the Dragon Lord, who called himself Paul’s guardian, didn’t seem to be family.

When no one sees a child’s emptiness, they grow sharp.

And if those emotional wounds fester too long, they become twisted adults.

‘I can’t just let that happen.’

After the snack, we learned a children’s song.

Today’s song was “Three Bears.”

The classic about three bears living in one house had been a beloved hit among kids for generations.

‘This song is perfect for improvising the lyrics.’

You could easily swap out ‘Mama Bear’ and ‘Papa Bear’ with your own family members, making it a natural way to talk about family.

And since there were three of us here today, it fit just right.

“Mama Bear is so cool, Brother Bear is scary, Baby Bear is… s-so cute!”

Ardishu hesitated adorably on the last line, a little embarrassed to sing that she was the cute one.

‘She’s actually too cute!’

I clutched my chest. The overwhelming power of Ardishu’s cuteness was real!

Still, beyond the cuteness, something nagged at me.

‘There’s no dad.’

And calling her brother, Eldic, scary… that bothered me too.

Even more, her official guardian was Eldic, not her mother.

‘This smells like some heavy backstory.’

There was clearly a reason Ardishu was so timid and withdrawn.

When her song ended, Paul spoke up.

“I’m not doing it.”

“Yeah? That’s fine. If you change your mind, just let me know.”

I replied casually. For Paul, just sitting still and participating in the class was a huge step forward. Expecting him to sing might’ve been asking too much.

But Paul’s eyebrows twitched.

He was surprised I didn’t try to push him into it.

‘So that’s the kind of reaction… Could his upbringing have been really strict?’

I imagined a strict guardian. When a child’s choices aren’t respected, it causes stress.

Especially if that child has a free-spirited personality like Paul.

“Now it’s Teacher’s turn.”

“Hey. Teachers don’t have moms.”

“My mom has a mom too, you know. Right, Teacher?”

Ardishu looked at me with sparkling eyes.

This was a classic question from kids.

[“Do you have a mom too, Teacher?”]

I’d heard it during my teaching practicum too.

One time, a class rep brought it up in our group chat: “Why do all kids think teachers don’t have moms?” Everyone chimed in with similar stories.

And when we answered “Yes,” the kids would look absolutely shocked.

It was one of those universal teacher moments. Something to laugh off…

“Teacher?”

“Oh, sorry. Right. It’s my turn now? Ardishu Bear is clever, Paul Bear is smart…”

“But we’re not your family.”

Ardishu suddenly interrupted, then looked down with a guilty face.

“I-I wasn’t supposed to interrupt…”

“It’s okay. Actually… I don’t have a family.”

I forced my heart to stay calm and smiled. I’d gotten used to this sort of thing.

“I’m sorry. I just…”

“Really, it’s fine.”

“See? Told you. Adults don’t have moms. Why would they?”

Paul sounded triumphant, and Ardishu quickly apologized again.

To reassure her, I announced a break. The kids went off to do whatever they wanted.

Meanwhile, I turned my chair toward them and quietly began prepping the next lesson.

“Teacher!”

Ardishu called me. When I looked up, she was holding out a piece of paper.

“I drew you! You’re pretty!”

The drawing was of me, with soft brown hair curling slightly past my shoulders, distinct black eyes, and even my red cubic earrings.

“You’ve got a good eye, Ardishu. You could’ve drawn my hair completely straight or totally curly, but this… you got it just right. My curls do start right around here.”

“I like your hair.”

I gently patted her head as she giggled. So precious, so lovable.

“You smudged the pastels, huh? And you sketched with charcoal first, so the outlines are super clear. That’s why…”

I lifted her hand and held it up.

“Our princess has soot-black hands!”

“I-I’ll go wash them!”

“Hehe. Let’s wash up, then I’ve got a fun new game for us. I brought pretty stones today.”

“Yay!”

Ardishu bounced up and down with excitement.

“……”

I felt eyes on me. Turning slightly, I saw Paul staring from a distance. When our eyes met, I smiled. He quickly turned away.

“Hope Paul likes the next game too.”

But he said nothing.

Soon, we sat in a circle. Today’s game was “stone flicking.”

“Watch closely. You flick the stone using just your finger. Let’s try sending one far.”

“This is just like yesterday.”

“Yesterday, we threw with our whole hand. Today, we’re only using fingers. It’s a bit harder.”

I started off light to avoid fights, since jumping into direct competition right away could lead to trouble.

Ardishu carefully aimed her angle. Paul relied on brute force.

The tactician versus the powerhouse… Round one went to the powerhouse.

“……”

A total domination.

Why was the stone embedded in the wall? We were just playing a kids’ game…

I expected Paul to win, but not by that much.

Naturally, I transitioned us to the next game: jackstones.

“This is hard…”

“There are a lot of rules. But after a few rounds, you’ll get the hang of it.”

Ardishu made a few mistakes at first, but adapted quickly.

“Ugh…”

But true to his nature, Paul struggled. He kept slapping the floor instead of gathering the stones.

“Hmm.”

I watched him silently. His brow furrowed.

“What! You think a dragon can’t do this and now you’re looking down on—”

“You two just have different strengths.”

“Huh?”

“I get it now. Paul’s strong when it comes to physical stuff. So the next game should be something that suits you… not wrestling, though. Oh! Let’s try slap-card battles next.”

Paul blinked and stared at me.

I think I was starting to understand what Paul’s emptiness was.

Being a dragon came with massive expectations.

So when someone seemed to look down on him, it hit a nerve.

‘At the very least, let this daycare be a place where Paul can just be himself.’

Most kids hate being treated like babies. Treating them like equals often helps them open up.

But once in a while, you get the opposite.

Some kids get hurt when they hear things like “You can’t even do that?” for something they obviously haven’t learned yet. That pain becomes sorrow.

Unresolved sorrow festers into anger, which then warps the child.

‘Time to change today’s lesson goal.’

Now it was about accepting Paul as he was, and earning his trust.

Only then could I truly become someone close to him.

* * *

After lunch, Sora suggested nap time.

Paul had thought it was a waste of time, but once he lay down under the warm blanket, drowsiness crept in.

“Teacher, I had fun playing jackstones today.”

“Really? Should we play again tomorrow?”

“Yeah. It’s a promise.”

Ardishu mumbled as sleepiness laced her voice.

Hearing that, Paul thought back on the day.

“Stone flicking” was unexpectedly fun. He got way too into it.

“Jackstones” was hard, but even when he messed up repeatedly, Sora never made fun of him.

During lunch, she kept asking, “Is it yummy?” No one had ever cared about that before.

[“You’re so cute when you eat well…”]

The way Sora looked at him when she said that… her eyes sparkled.

Like she was looking at something incredibly precious.

No one had ever looked at Paul like that before.
 

<To be continued>

Join the GS Discord to stay updated on the latest chapter releases:

https://discord.gg/PRZEAJZE3J