Ethan watched the retreating back of the Class 11-1 homeroom teacher until Gareth disappeared around the corner.
He didn't bother scoffing at how the man did nothing even after finding out about the bullying. He didn't bother analyzing how cunningly Cornelia had just used him as a human shield to deflect an unwanted date, nor did he dwell on the pathetic crush he used to harbor for her.
That crush, combined with a useless sense of pride, was the reason he had never sought help from Cornelia. He hadn't wanted to look weak in front of the woman he liked.
Recalling that mindset now, Ethan felt the urge to laugh. It was a line of thinking so fragile it wasn't even worth the effort to mock.
Instead, his thoughts actually lingered on Gareth.
It was strange. As he watched the male teacher walk away, Ethan felt a peculiar, faint tug in his gut.
If he wasn't mistaken, he felt a sense of attraction towards the man.
Make no mistake; this feeling of attraction wasn't sexual. It definitely wasn't romantic. It was something primal and hard to define, like a magnet being attracted to a piece of iron. He just had a vague, inexplicable desire to be physically close to Gareth.
What was even stranger—or perhaps just a trick of his exhausted mind—was that the feeling seemed to pulse, ever so faintly, the moment Gareth realized he had lost his chance with Cornelia. It was barely a blip on his radar—a fleeting, microscopic pull that intensified just as the teacher walked away.
Ethan frowned, absently rubbing his chest. He didn't understand the source of the feeling, nor did he know what to make of it. There was simply nothing he could do about it right now. Unable to find an answer, he decided to just let it be.
"Well, I believe that solves my dinner dilemma."
Cornelia's voice cut through his thoughts. She pushed herself off the doorframe, the playful smile from earlier dimming into something more casual.
"Sorry about using you as a prop just now," she said, though her tone lacked any genuine remorse. "Gareth is sweet, but he can be a bit... persistent."
"It's fine," Ethan replied in a flat voice. "It worked."
Cornelia raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. She wasn't entirely oblivious to the feelings of the opposite gender. For a long time now, she had suspected that Ethan too, was among those who harbored a bit of a crush on her.
Usually, he would avert his eyes or stumble over his words whenever she addressed him. But now? He remained completely calm, meeting her eyes with a flat, even gaze.
She looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on the jagged tears in his uniform and the dust clinging to his trousers.
"Hmm… you certainly look like you've had an eventful day," she noted, her voice sounding a tad bit more serious, as she took in the extent of the damage. "Come inside. I can't have a student of mine walking around looking quite so battered."
She turned and walked into the staff room without waiting for a response. Ethan hesitated for a split second, then followed.
The staff room was empty. It smelled of coffee and old paper. Cornelia walked over to her desk, leaning against it casually as she looked at him.
"I suppose I should offer a proper apology," she said, her expression sobering up slightly.
"For using me?" Ethan asked.
"For that, and for the fact that I can't actually help you with your... situation," she replied, gesturing vaguely to his torn clothes. "I wasn't lying to Gareth. The Sterling family is a legitimate headache for the administration. Even if I wanted to intervene, there just isn't much I can do. I'd just end up getting myself in trouble as well."
She looked him in the eye, dropping the theatrical act for a moment to offer him a harsh truth. "So, sorry about that, but you're mostly on your own."
It was a cold, pragmatic statement. The old Ethan might have felt a sting of betrayal at his teacher's refusal to protect him.
The current Ethan just shrugged.
"I know," he said simply. "I never expected you to intervene."
Cornelia blinked, taken aback. She had expected him to look dejected, or perhaps plead with her to reconsider. That would be more in line with the Ethan she knew. But this dry acceptance? It certainly felt out of character.
"My, aren't we independent today?" she murmured, studying him with renewed interest.
She pushed herself off the desk.
"Well, since I can't save you from the big bad wolf, I can at least help you fix the aftermath. Kind of."
She raised her hand, pointing her palm directly at him. Her amethyst eyes narrowed slightly as she focused.
Ethan could feel the shift in the atmosphere. He wasn't unfamiliar with this feeling. He could tell that she was casting a spell.
Hummmm.
A faint vibration filled the quiet room.
A moment later, a complex geometric pattern of light—a magic circle—materialized in the air just in front of her palm. It rotated slowly, casting a soft white glow over the room.
The milky luminosity was a dead giveaway. In the world of magic, color dictated nature. This pristine white hue indicated that the spell which Cornelia was casting was a 'No-Element' spell.
But that wasn't all.
From the center of the first circle, a second, smaller circle detached itself.
It was a Second Circle spell!
For the first time that evening, Ethan's detached composure wavered. His eyes, previously aloof, sharpened with a sudden, intense focus. He stared at the rotating geometric patterns in awe. As someone who was still a 1st Circle Magician, he couldn't wait for the day when he too could utilize the might and complexity of 2nd Circle spells.
Ethan watched with a combination of interest and awe as the smaller ring of light danced around him, trailing a ribbon of mana like a spectral thread. It darted from one tear to the next with fluid grace.
Under the steady, white radiance of the larger circle, the fabric of his trousers shifted. The torn edges of his blazer reached out to one another, weaving themselves back together until the rips vanished completely. The dust and grime lifted off his clothes and dissolved into nothingness.
In less than ten seconds, his uniform looked as if it had just come from the dry cleaners.
"There," Cornelia said, lowering her hand as both magic circles dissolved into motes of light. "Much better."
Ethan looked down at his restored uniform, running a hand over the fabric where the tears used to be. It was perfect.
"Thank you, Ms. Cornelia," he said, offering a small, polite bow.
He waited for a moment, expecting to be dismissed. However, Cornelia didn't wave him away immediately. Instead, she leaned back against her desk, her amethyst eyes narrowing slightly as she studied his face.
The silence stretched for a moment, thin and taut.
"You know," she said softly, her gaze carrying a sharp, observant glint. "You seem different today, Ethan."
Ethan met her gaze. He didn't blink, nor did he ask what she meant.
"Is that so?"
"Yes," Cornelia murmured, tilting her head. "Usually, you look like you just want to disappear. Today... well, you don't."
She let the comment hang in the air, waiting for him to squirm or explain. When he did neither, a small, enigmatic smile returned to her lips.
"Well, whatever it is, keep it up. It suits you better."
She waved a hand dismissively, turning her attention back to the stack of papers on her desk.
"Good luck, Ethan."
"Good evening, Ms. Cornelia."
Ethan stepped out of the staff room and closed the door behind him.