Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor - Chapter 268: Karina Maeril [6]

Chapter 268: Karina Maeril [6]

“Mama!”

The moment they stepped into the small apartment on the second floor of the commercial district in Aetherion, a little girl with platinum-blonde hair came running toward Beatrice.

She threw her arms around and clung to her as if she had been waiting all day.

“Hehe. I’m home,” Beatrice said, returning the hug.

The girl looked up with bright eyes before finally noticing the boy standing awkwardly by the door.

“Huh?” She tilted her head. “Who’s that?”

Beatrice placed a hand on her daughter’s head.

“This is Vanitas,” she said. “He’s my student. I invited him for your birthday. Aren’t you excited?”

“Wow!”

Vanitas frowned at her words. “I’m not—”

“Welcome!” Karina said with a bright smile, cutting him off. “I’m Karina!”

She stepped closer, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Vanitas was clearly caught off guard, quickly looking away.

“…Vanitas,” he muttered.

Beatrice smiled at the exchange.

“Go wash up,” she said gently. “You’re still soaked.”

Karina tugged lightly at his sleeve, unable to contain her excitement.

“Ooh, we just bought a bath heater!” she said eagerly. “Ask Mama to channel mana for you!”

“I can do it myself.”

He tugged his sleeve free from Karina’s grip and headed toward the washroom without waiting for a response.

Beatrice watched him go, then looked down at her daughter.

“Don’t overwhelm him, dear,” she said. “He might seem grumpy, but he’s just really lonely.”

Karina tilted her head, clearly puzzled.

“Lonely? Why?” she asked. “School has lots of friends. You can’t be lonely there. Even I have many friends.”

Beatrice knelt beside her, smoothing her daughter’s hair.

“Not everyone feels less lonely just because there are people around,” she said. “Sometimes, being surrounded by others can make it feel worse.”

“…Then I’ll be his friend.”

Beatrice smiled. “That would be nice.”

Just then, footsteps approached from the hallway.

“…Where’s the bath?”

Vanitas had returned with his hair still damp and his expression as guarded as ever.

Beatrice rose to her feet. “This way,” she said, turning toward the washroom.

“I know where it is,” Karina suddenly said, stepping forward with enthusiasm. “It’s over here!”

Before Beatrice could stop her, Karina grabbed Vanitas by the arm and began pulling him along.

“H-Hey!” Vanitas protested. “I can walk on my own.”

“This way! This way!”

Beatrice looked at the two with a smile. Vanitas still looked annoyed, but he did not shake Karina off. He allowed himself to be dragged along while grumbling.

Just then, her husband, Romulus Neuschwan, emerged from the kitchen to greet her.

“Welcome home, dear.”

“Ah, Roman,” Beatrice said. “Sorry I’ve been working overtime so much lately. I haven’t had much time to cook.”

“It’s alright,” he replied with a smile. “I was starting to wonder when I’d finally be useful to you and Karina.”

Beatrice laughed and loosened her coat.

“Then let me help,” she said. “I shouldn’t leave everything to you.”

“There’s no need,” Roman said. “You’ve had a long day.”

“I insist,” she replied, already rolling up her sleeves. “At least let me prepare the side dishes.”

Roman watched her for a moment, then nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “Just don’t overdo it.”

Beatrice stepped into the kitchen and began preparing the meal beside him.

“Oh,” she added, as if remembering, “if you don’t mind, I brought one of my students with me. Vanitas. You remember him?”

Roman paused, then glanced at her. “That rude boy? Has he finally warmed up to you?”

“Not quite,” Beatrice said with a faint smile. “But it was raining, and he had nowhere to go.”

“I see. Well, as long as he behaves himself.”

“He’s just a child,” Beatrice replied. “A difficult one, but still a child.”

“I’ll accommodate him as much as I can,” Roman said after a brief pause. “I know he has his own circumstances. But today is Karina’s birthday.”

“I know,” Beatrice said. “That’s why I didn’t want to turn him away. Perhaps that boy could find something meaningful today. Maybe even consider relying on me.”

Roman glanced toward the hallway, then back at her.

“Beatrice,” he began, “have you ever heard the parable of the blind man?”

“Blind man?”

“Once, there was a person born blind who lived his entire life that way. He had no resentment toward the world and lived at his own pace. One day, he met an old beggar. Despite having little himself, the man spared a few coins. The beggar turned out to be a witch. As a reward, she granted him sight.”

Roman paused, choosing his words carefully.

“For the first time, the man could see. He saw the beauty of the world beyond darkness. But not long after, the witch was discovered by the village and burned at the stake. When she died, the magic vanished. The man lost his sight once more. What do you think happened to him after that?”

“You said he lived his life normally before,” Beatrice said thoughtfully. “I assume there would be an adjustment. He had experienced something extraordinary, so perhaps he felt regret? But why are you telling me this?”

“In the end, the man chose to end his life.”

“….”

“Why do you think that is?”

“…Because he was allowed to experience a beauty he knew he would never have again.”

“Exactly.”

To put it simply, if their suspicions were correct and Vanitas truly lived in an abusive household, then exposing him to a warm and loving home might do more harm than good.

For someone like him, kindness was not comfort, but a contract. A brief glimpse into a life that was never meant to be his. Warmth, once felt, could no longer be dismissed as fantasy or ignorance.

It would become proof that such a world existed, and proof that he had been denied it.

With his already nihilistic view of the world, that knowledge would not inspire hope. It would only heighten despair. Returning to coldness after tasting warmth would not feel like going back to normal.

It would feel like loss. Like having something taken away. The absence would feel heavier than ignorance ever could.

In that sense, cruelty that remained consistent was easier to endure than kindness that appeared only to vanish.

Because suffering that one grows accustomed to can be rationalized, endured, even normalized. But hope, once introduced and then withdrawn, leaves behind a wound that would only fester.

It teaches a person not only what happiness is, but also how unreachable it truly is.

And for a child already standing on the edge of apathy, that realization could be fatal.

“But I’m a teacher.”

But Beatrice believed things could change for the boy. That they had to.

“It’s a teacher’s job to guide children,” she continued. “Not just when it’s easy. Not only when they’re obedient or grateful. But especially when they’re lost.”

She paused, her hands stopping for a moment.

“If I look away because it’s inconvenient or frightening, then I’m no different from everyone else who failed him.”

“…This is why I fell in love with you.”

Beatrice looked at him, surprised for a moment, before letting out a soft chuckle.

“I love you too, now let’s make this a birthday Karina will remember.”

“Mhm.”

When Vanitas finally emerged from the bath, he was wearing one of Karina’s spare sets of clothes that were too small for him.

He stood awkwardly near the doorway, looking off to the side as he rubbed his arm, clearly uncomfortable.

“She wouldn’t stop bothering me.”

From behind him, Karina peeked out with a grin. “That’s because you’re fun!”

Vanitas clicked his tongue, but to Beatrice’s surprise, he did not leave.

Karina ran over and wrapped her arms around Beatrice in a quick hug. Vanitas remained where he stood until Karina turned back and waved him over.

“Come here!” she said. “Why are you just standing there, Vanitas?”

He hesitated for a moment before slowly approaching. When his gaze finally fell on the table, he froze.

It was laid out with all sorts of food, and at the far end was a small but modest cake.

“…So much.”

“It’s my birthday!” Karina said proudly. “Mama and Romulus made everything!”

Roman appeared from the kitchen, wiping his hands. “Dinner’s ready.”

Beatrice guided them to their seats.

“Let’s eat together,” she said.

They gathered around the table. For a good minute, Vanitas just watched, unsure where to place his hands, or rather, unsure if he even belonged here.

Then Roman cleared his throat.

“Before we eat,” he said, “we should do this properly.”

Karina’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Oh! That!”

Beatrice smiled. “Alright. On three…”

They began to sing.

“Happy birthday to you…”

Vanitas remained silent, but he listened as the birthday song filled the small apartment.

“…Happy birthday, dear Karina…”

When the song ended, Karina clasped her hands together and squeezed her eyes shut.

“I wish for Mama, Roman, and me to be happy forever!” she said, then leaned forward and blew out the candles in one breath.

The flames vanished, leaving behind a thin curl of smoke. Then, she turned to Vanitas with a smug look on her face.

“And I wish for Vanitas to be nicer!”

For just a moment, Vanitas stared at the cake, at the empty candles, at the scene in front of him, as if trying to memorize it.

Then, almost too quietly to hear, he spoke.

“Happy birthday…”

Karina blinked. “What’s that?”

“…Happy birthday,” he repeated.

Karina’s smile widened. “Say it louder.”

Vanitas looked away. “…Happy birthday, Karina.”

“Hehe. Thank you, Vanitas.”