After ’dying’ at the hands of mother, the young Isaac opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a white ceiling.
He didn’t know where he was.
His head hurt like soone had smashed a rock against it.
A faint beeping sound echoed beside him, and when he turned, he saw a machine monitoring his heartbeat.
He was in a hospital.
A nurse noticed he was awake and called the doctor.
They asked him so questions about his na, where he lived, if he had family.
Isaac couldn’t answer any of them.
His mind was blank.
Nothing ca to him.
Where he had been living, who he was, what he had done until now. It was all gone.
Even trying to rember made his head hurt more.
After a few days, the doctor said his injuries had healed enough for him to be discharged, but his mory might take ti to recover.
So they sent him to an orphanage in the city.
The place was small but decent.
The caretakers were kind and tried to make him feel welco.
The children were lively at first, often coming to talk to him, asking where he ca from, but Isaac couldn’t answer much.
Over ti, they stopped trying.
He didn’t talk much, didn’t play, didn’t laugh.
He just sat outside most of the ti, staring at the sky.
The staff said he was a quiet boy.
The children called him strange behind his back.
And then, one day, he found out about his past from a newspaper.
The orphanage he had been living in before—before this one—was destroyed.
A monster had entered the city and hid there.
Nobody noticed until it was too late.
Isaac had survived only because he ca late.
He later when to check that orphanage.
When he saw the ruins, he felt sothing tear inside him.
He didn’t rember the faces of the people who died there.
He didn’t even rember living there.
But he felt like sothing important had been taken from him.
He didn’t know why, but sotis, when he visited that place, his eyes would sting, and tears would fall without him realizing.
It was around that ti he started hating orphanages.
He didn’t know why, but the thought of staying in one made him feel sick.
The orphanage kid called him unlucky too, because he was the only one who survived, so he didn’t feel anything about leaving them behind.
He started working small part-ti jobs. Delivering things, cleaning stores, anything he could find.
He saved money bit by bit, planning to move out.
Despite being a child, he managed on his own.
Sowhere in his mind, faint traces of his past life—the one on Earth—helped him survive.
He knew how to manage money, cook, and handle people.
When he finally had enough, he left the orphanage without looking back.
He rented a small room and began living alone.
He worked during the day and studied at night.
His goal was simple: get into the academy.
It wasn’t easy.
Balancing work, study, and training took everything out of him.
But no matter how tired he got, sothing inside pushed him forward.
A faint voice, like a mory he couldn’t reach, told him he needed to get stronger.
He didn’t know why.
He just felt like there was sothing he had to achieve. Soone had to defeat.
And then, ti passed.
The second sester at the academy began.
It was a normal morning.
Isaac sat in his usual seat near the window.
The classroom buzzed with noise as students chatted and laughed.
Alice was sitting beside him, talking to Paul, who was waving his hands around, trying to explain sothing.
"I’m telling you, she’s gorgeous. I saw her walking through the main building when she ca here last sester. Every guy in the hall stopped what they were doing," Paul said.
Alice rolled her eyes. "She’s a professor. Stop staring at her, and making her uncomfortable."
Isaac leaned back in his chair. "Seeing everyone so excited, you’d think she’s using so social skill to charm people."
Paul laughed. "You’ll see when she walks in."
A few minutes later, the door opened.
The classroom fell quiet.
A woman stepped inside.
She had brown hair tied neatly, golden eyes that seed to shine under the light, and a calm smile that drew everyone’s attention.
Her presence filled the room effortlessly.
"Good morning, everyone. I’m Professor Catherine. I’ll be teaching your class this sester," she said.
Her voice was smooth and confident.
The students murmured among themselves, impressed.
Isaac watched her in silence.
He had never seen her before, or at least, he thought he hadn’t.
But the mont their eyes t, sothing stirred inside him.
His chest felt tight.
His hands went cold.
He didn’t understand why, but she felt familiar.
Like soone he had been waiting to et for a long ti.
He tried to shake the feeling off, blaming it on her charm or so unknown social skill.
But as the lecture went on, he couldn’t focus on anything she said.
Every ti she smiled, it felt like a mory was trying to surface.
’It’s probably a social skill,’ he told himself again. ’She’s too perfect. That must be it.’
Still, the feeling didn’t go away.
Days passed. Classes continued. Isaac noticed that everyone liked her. Boys and girls both.
She had a way of making people feel at ease, even when teaching difficult topics.
But Isaac couldn’t relax around her.
The closer he got, the stronger the strange feeling beca.
He kept telling himself to ignore it.
But by the end of the week, he found himself standing outside her office.
He sighed. "If Alice finds out I’m here, she’ll say I got swayed by her looks."
He hesitated for a mont, then knocked.
"Co in," her voice called from inside.
He opened the door.
The office slled faintly of lavender.
Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with notes and research materials.
A small photo fra sat on her desk, facing her side.
He couldn’t see the picture, but it looked important to her given how it was in the office.
"Good evening, Professor," Isaac said, stepping in.
She looked up and smiled. "Isaac. What brings you here?"
"I had a few doubts about monster habitats. I thought you might explain them better," he said quickly.
"Of course. Please, sit down."
He took a seat across from her, and they began discussing the topic.
She explained patiently, drawing diagrams on her tablet, sotis pausing to make sure he was following.
Isaac listened carefully, though his mind kept drifting.
He kept sneaking glances at her, trying to understand why he felt so uneasy.
Her voice, her gestures, even the faint way she tilted her head while thinking.
It all felt too familiar.
Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t rember anything.
An hour passed like that.
"Does that make it clearer?" she asked finally.
"Yes, thank you. You’re really good at explaining things," he said, smiling awkwardly.
She chuckled softly. "That’s what I’m supposed to be good at."
The silence that followed felt heavy.
Isaac tapped his fingers on the table, unsure what to do next.
His logical side scread at him to leave, but sothing deeper held him there.
Finally, he spoke.
"Professor," he said slowly. "Can I ask you sothing?"
"Of course."
"Have we... t before?"
For a mont, her expression froze.
It was subtle, but Isaac caught it.
It was the first ti he saw her genuinely surprised.
Her golden eyes widened just a little, and then sothing flickered in them. Sothing like disbelief.
It was as if she had heard sothing that shouldn’t be possible.
The reaction made Isaac feel awkward.
He imdiately regretted asking.
He thought she must have thought he was hitting on her, so he quickly said, "Sorry if it was an awkward question. I just felt like I know you. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t recall it. So I decided to ask directly."
Catherine blinked and looked down for a second.
"So you rember," she mumbled.
"Sorry?" Isaac leaned forward. "I didn’t hear that, Professor."
Catherine suddenly looked up and smiled, brightly this ti. For a second, it looked like so kind of relief washed over her.
Her shoulders relaxed.
"I said," she repeated, "was that your pickup line, Isaac?"
Isaac blinked. "What?"
Her smile turned mischievous.
But Isaac’s face burned red.
She really did think he was hitting on her!
Dammit.
"I wasn’t hitting on you, Professor. I would never think of doing that," he said quickly.
Catherine leaned back in her chair, pretending to look offended. "Why? You think I’m not beautiful enough to be hit on?"
Isaac froze. "No, that’s not it. You’re very beautiful. But I would never hit on my professor."
"Oh?" she asked playfully. "So what you’re saying is, if we weren’t professor and student, you would have hit on ?"
Isaac opened his mouth, then closed it.
He was completely lost for words.
The more he spoke, the deeper he was digging his own grave.
Catherine, on the other hand, was enjoying every second of it.
Her teasing smile made it clear.
"Forget it," Isaac muttered finally, standing up. "Thanks for explaining about monster habitats."
"You’re welco. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your confession," she said, still smiling.
"It wasn’t a confession!"
She laughed quietly as he hurried out of her office.
After that day, Isaac found himself talking to Professor Catherine more often.
At first, it was just for academic reasons like questions about assignnts or research topics.
But then, she began helping him with other things too.
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