Chapter 193: Chapter 193 Deep Thought
Alina washed her face and felt a little fresher before stepping back into the wide, quiet hall. On a small table set against the wall rested the gift she had prepared for Lucien. She picked it up, wanting to give it to him personally once he woke, and then continued toward the rest room.
"Teacher!!!"
The sudden cry nearly made her drop her bag. She spun around—only to see Boo hanging upside down right in front of her face.
"Boo!" she gasped, pressing her hand to her chest. "You scared me half to death."
He giggled, floating lazily in the air with his little legs crossed. "Boo come here because Boo wasn’t sleepy. Boo is bored." His voice trailed into a pitiful whine as he puffed his cheeks.
Alina sighed in relief, shaking her head with a soft smile.
"Teacher, what’s inside that box?" Boo asked suddenly, pointing a finger toward the gift bag. His eyes sparkled with nosy curiosity.
Alina chuckled and shook her head. "I can’t tell you, Boo."
"Why not??" He rolled dramatically in the air, pouting so hard his cheeks looked like he might burst.
"Because it’s a surprise," Alina said patiently.
"Techarrrr," Boo groaned, flopping upside down again. "Why don’t you give it when everyone else gave theirs? Boo saw you hide it! Boo saw everything!"
Alina’s lips twitched as she tried not to laugh at his theatrics. "Because I’m the teacher," she explained warmly, crouching a little so she could look at him at eye level. "And teachers don’t rush. We wait for the right moment."
Boo blinked, his pout slowly melting into curiosity again. "The right moment? Like... when stars fall?? Or when someone sneezes three times in a row??"
Alina laughed softly, shaking her head. "Something like that, Boo."
"Booo will find the right moment too then!" he declared proudly, spinning away before bumping into the wall with a thunk.
Alina sighed, half exasperated, half fond. "What am I going to do with you, Boo..." she whispered, smiling as she headed back to her room.
Boo followed her inside with his usual floaty steps, trailing after her like a stubborn little shadow. "Teacher, everyone is sleeping," he complained, lips pushed out in a dramatic pout. "I’m all alone," he added again, as if repeating it would make his misery sound bigger.
Alina sighed softly but couldn’t help smiling at his theatrics. "Boo, you can stay here with teacher," she said as she climbed onto the bed. Boo immediately plopped down next to her, looking both sulky and expectant.
"Why aren’t you sleepy, Boo?" she asked gently, tilting her head at him.
"Not feeling," he mumbled, hugging his own arms as though the word itself was enough explanation.
Alina hesitated for a moment. Should I do this or not? Would it be unprofessional? she wondered, biting her lip. But then she shook her head. No, I don’t care. I’m just taking care of him. She nodded to herself and smiled at the little ghost.
"Come here, Boo," she said softly.
Boo blinked at her, curious, but leaned closer as she guided him. She asked him to rest his head on her lap, and after a moment’s hesitation he did exactly that, sinking down with an almost childlike trust. His semi-solid form felt strange beneath her touch—she could feel him, yet at the same time there was a faint, weightless quality, as if he might slip away any moment.
His semi-solid form felt strange beneath her touch—she could feel him, yet at the same time there was a faint, weightless quality, as if he might slip away at any moment. Boo wriggled a little, peeking up at her with wide, restless eyes.
"Teacher, do you know ghosts don’t really need sleep?" he whispered, as though sharing an important secret.
"Then why are you here pouting about being alone while everyone else is sleeping?" Alina teased, brushing her fingers lightly through his messy hair.
Boo puffed out his cheeks. "Because... it’s boring! And I might get kidnapped by ghost if I’m alone!" he declared dramatically, clutching her arm.
Alina chuckled softly. "Boo, you are a ghost."
"Still! Scarier ghosts exist," he insisted, lowering his voice and darting his eyes around the room like some invisible monster might leap out at him.
She shook her head, amused, and patted him again. "So will you try closing your eyes now?"
Boo scrunched his face as if she had asked him to solve the hardest math problem in the world. "Hmm... maybe. But only if you keep patting my head. If you stop, I’ll know."
Alina bit back a laugh. "Alright, I promise."
"Good," Boo mumbled, snuggling deeper into her lap with exaggerated seriousness. But even then, his eyes fluttered open every few seconds, determined to prove that he was still awake. "See? Not sleeping. Just... resting."
"Of course," Alina said gently, indulging his stubbornness. She continued stroking his hair, smiling at how childish and funny he could be, even while pretending to fight off sleep.
Alina kept her hand moving gently over his head, her touch steady and soothing. Boo’s stubborn little eyes fought to stay open, fluttering every now and then before snapping back with determination.
"Teacher," he mumbled, his voice soft but still dramatic, "if I sleep... don’t let any anyone sneak up and draw on my face with water colours."
Alina blinked at him, then burst into a quiet laugh. "Boo, who would even do that?"
"You never know," he muttered, already half-gone, his words slurring. "Drake... maybe... he looks like the type..."
Alina sat quietly, her hand still resting on Boo’s hair as his faint breathing evened out, soft and weightless like the little ghost himself. For a long moment she only watched him, the way his pout had faded into peacefulness, the way he clung faintly to her as though she were his anchor. But then a sudden thought crept into her mind, catching her off guard.
If Boo is a ghost... then once, in his life, he must have been someone’s baby.
Her chest tightened at the idea. A baby who had laughed, cried, reached out with tiny hands—maybe cradled in his mother’s arms, maybe adored by a family who had once cherished him. Alina’s fingers stilled on his hair as the realization pressed down on her. Does he even remember them? Did he have parents who searched for him, who grieved for him?
The thought sent a quiet shiver through her, and she drew in a slow breath.