The academy itself hadn’t changed since his days as a student. The bell tower loomed overhead, throwing the courtyard into shade, while cracks marred the old stone walls and the uneven cobbles beneath his feet.

It was frozen in time, just like Gerald. 

He opened the massive wooden door and climbed up the large staircase. With his current somber presence, he felt like a ghost haunting the place where he had once been happiest, now teaching in the same building where his younger self had studied.

He moved down the hallway to find his office. That was the one place he could be truly alone. Not all teachers got a solo office, but that was one perk of his service. Inside, he allowed himself a released sigh. 

Truthfully? He did finish grading the papers. Yesterday, he pushed past midnight just to get it done. 

In fact, his history class wasn’t due for the next three hours.

Ms. Solbakken was typically too busy in her de-aging witchcraft to notice the discrepancy in his timetable. 

And yet he knew if she were to find out, that would just be painted as another sign of disrespect towards her.

Well, perhaps it was. As partners, he knew they should be honest with each other. But if she got to skip faculty meetings just because she ‘didn’t feel like it’, then Gerald was allowed a small hideout in his personal service-granted office.

It was a pleasant office after all. The second largest, only to the principal. He even had glass cupboards, a nice window to look out from, a massive fine wood desk to work on, polished to perfection, and a high-backed leather chair.

He even brought that globe into his office to finish the aesthetic. His little stash was hidden there too…

He considered it, but… no, not the time for that.

He sat down in his chair and allowed his head to rest. He could almost fall asleep here, and in fact—he had. A few times in the past two years.

But there was one worry permeating his mind.

That broken toilet…

How did the students manage that?

How broken could it actually be? Was it mechanical damage, or did they break the ceramic? The first made more sense, but judging by the noises he heard, the latter seemed more likely. In that case… that was actually kind of impressive. 

He mentally considered what tools he might need to get from HandyHome later in the evening. 

First, he would have to assess the damage and then—

The door to his office burst open, forcing him out of his musings. He was in attention immediately, hands grasping the armrests. 

A woman stood at the entryway…

Gerald’s heart jumped—a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years. His breath hitched, lips parting slightly. 

Those eyes so brown, pointed; her skin so fair like a piece of paper, that jet-black hair. The intensity of her entrance, the flair of her stance…

Lisbeth?

No… No. His vision unblurred, she… 

In fact, she looked nothing like her.

Who was this?