I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!-Chapter 392 Exam (7)

Alina sat in the staffroom for a while longer, correcting a few papers with focus. Every now and then, a small smile crept onto her lips as she recalled the babies’ expressions, their concentration, their tiny victories. Once she was done, she slid the papers back into their folders neatly. There was no rush today. With the holidays approaching, time finally felt gentle instead of pressing.

Her fingers tapped lightly against the folder as a familiar thought returned.

She wanted to tell Dante.

About the exam. About how well the babies had done. About the strange, vivid experience she had felt while trying to focus her mind, the colors, the auras, the feeling that something inside her had stirred. The thought alone made her chest feel warm and nervous at the same time.

Before she could overthink it, she stood up.

The walk to the principal’s office felt much longer than usual. Her steps slowed as she reached the door, her heart thudding a little louder than it should have. She lifted her hand and knocked.

Knock.

Knock.

"Come in."

His voice reached her through the door, low and calm, and her breath caught slightly despite herself. She opened the door and stepped inside, almost tripping over her own feet before steadying herself.

The first thing her eyes landed on was his horns.

They caught the light softly, smooth and imposing, elegant in a way that felt both ancient and powerful. For a brief, embarrassing moment, she forgot why she had come at all. They looked... unreal, perfectly shaped, as if carved rather than grown. She swallowed and forced her gaze upward.

Dante looked up from his desk.

"Miss Alina," he said, his expression relaxing slightly when he saw her. "Is something the matter?"

She blinked, realizing she had been staring far too long. Heat rushed to her cheeks. "N-no, sir. I just... I wanted to talk to you," she said nervously.

He gestured calmly toward the chair opposite his desk. "Please, sit."

As she moved to sit down, her heart still fluttered in her chest, but beneath the nervousness was excitement. She had so much to tell him, and for the first time, she felt like she truly wanted him to listen.

"Don’t hesitate," Dante said gently, leaning back in his chair. His voice was calm, but his eyes softened in a way that made Alina feel unexpectedly at ease. "Whatever is on your mind, you can open up to me. Maybe... like you would with a friend." His gaze flickered with something unreadable as he watched her. He wanted to be that person for her, even if he didn’t say it out loud. Someone she trusted. Someone like Gabriel.

Alina let out a small, nervous laugh, clutching her hands together. "Ha... yes, sir. Of course. I’ve actually been thinking about telling you this," she admitted.

Dante’s eyes flashed for just a second.

So she had been thinking about him. The realization warmed something deep inside his chest, and he had to fight the small smile threatening to curve his lips.

"I’m curious," he said simply, his attention sharpening.

She straightened a little, excitement spilling into her voice. "Sir, do you remember when you guided me about core magic and focusing the mind?" she asked. "Yesterday, I tried doing that. At first it was difficult, but then I started seeing swirling colors. And then... I saw my students. I could see them clearly, each one surrounded by different colors. I think they were their elemental auras."

Dante froze for half a breath.

"You saw that?" His eyes lit up, genuine interest breaking through his usual composure.

"Yes," Alina nodded eagerly, her eyes shining. "It felt real. Not like imagination. I could see Drake, Vlad Jr., Luna, Kelpie... all of them. Even Boo. Each aura was different. Sir, do you know what it means?" 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

Dante fell silent, his expression turning thoughtful. He leaned forward slightly, fingers interlacing as his mind raced through old knowledge, ancient texts, and half-forgotten theories.

"No," he said honestly after a moment. "This is the first time I’ve heard of something like this happening so clearly, especially for a human without formal awakening." His gaze lifted back to her, sharp yet warm. "But I will look into it. Thoroughly."

Alina’s shoulders relaxed, relief and excitement mixing together. "Really?"

"Yes," he replied, firm and assured. "If what you experienced is real, then it is important. Very important."

For a moment, they simply looked at each other.

"How was the exam today?" he asked, his voice gentle as he broke the silence between them.

Alina blinked, then tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, smiling without realizing how soft it looked. "It went really well," she said warmly. "The babies did better than I expected. They were focused, calm, and tried their best."

Her smile grew as she spoke, pride shining clearly in her eyes. "Some skipped a few difficult questions like grammar, but that’s alright. What matters is that they weren’t afraid. Seeing them write with confidence made me really happy."

Dante watched her closely, not just listening to her words, but to the way her expression changed when she talked about the children. There was a quiet glow to her then, something nurturing and steady that made his chest feel unexpectedly tight.

"That’s good," he said after a moment, his tone approving. "You’ve guided them well."

The simple praise made her cheeks warm again, and she lowered her gaze slightly, still smiling, unaware that for him, that small reaction mattered more than he would ever admit.

"You’re also great, sir," Alina said softly, a shy smile tugging at her lips as she glanced up at him. "Handling a kindergarten... it isn’t easy." Her heartbeat picked up despite herself, and she hoped he couldn’t hear it in her voice.

"You think so?" Dante raised a brow, amusement flickering in his eyes.

She nodded, gathering a little courage. "You don’t just manage it. You care. The children listen to you. They feel safe around you. That matters."

He leaned back slightly, studying her as if her words had landed somewhere deeper than expected. "I thought I was merely doing my duty."