I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!-Chapter 447 Date

"Woah." The sound slipped from Alina’s lips in a soft rush of air as Dante pulled the car to a stop. Before them stood a restaurant, but it looked more like a jewel box made of glass and light, sparkling against the night sky.

She felt excited. But as they walked toward the entrance, a little frown touched her brow. It was too quiet. The windows, though glowing warmly, showed empty tables. No other guests were arriving. The usual buzz of a popular place was completely missing.

"Is it... closed?" she whispered, confusion in her voice.

Before Dante could answer, the grand door swung open silently. A man in a crisp, dark suit stood there, his posture respectful and poised. He gave a slight, formal bow.

"This way, sir," he said, his voice smooth and quiet. His eyes flickered to Alina with polite recognition. "Madam."

Dante’s hand found hers, his fingers weaving through her own, warm and sure. He gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze as they followed the man inside. The main dining room was beautiful, elegant tables set with shining silver and white cloths, soft music playing, but utterly still and empty, confirming her suspicion.

Instead of leading them to a table, the man in the suit guided them to a private elevator at the back. The doors whispered open, and they stepped inside. It ascended smoothly, silently.

When the doors opened again, they did not open onto another hallway. They opened directly to the sky.

Alina stepped out onto the rooftop, and her eyes flew wide.

The entire space had been transformed. It was not just a restaurant rooftop; it was a secret garden under the stars. Thousands of tiny, delicate fairy lights were strung overhead, twinkling like a captured piece of the Milky Way. Below them, the city glittered like a bed of diamonds stretched to the horizon.

But it was the centerpiece that stole her breath. A single, beautifully set table for two stood in the middle of the open space, adorned with white roses and more of those sparkling lights. Soft, billowing curtains of sheer white fabric framed the space, moving gently in the night breeze. A violinist stood off to the side, offering a soft, romantic melody that wove through the air.

It was empty of other people because it was full of an intention meant only for them.

The man in the suit gave a final, slight bow and melted away, leaving them alone in the romantic space. The only sounds were the soft sigh of the wind, the distant hum of the city, and the gentle strains of the violin.

Dante’s hand was still in hers, but she could feel a new tension in his grip. She looked up at him, her amazement slowly shifting into disbelief as she took in his expression.

He looked... nervous. It was a strange, almost foreign look on his usually impassive face. His jaw was tight again, and his eyes held a flicker of uncertainty as he watched her reaction.

"You... you booked the whole place," she said, her voice a mixture of awe and accusation. She pulled her hand from his just enough to point a finger at him, her eyes wide as saucers. "Tell me that’s a lie."

He blinked, his confusion evident. He looked around at the empty, beautiful rooftop, then back at her, as if trying to see the problem. "I did," he confirmed, his tone straightforward. "Is there anything wrong with it?"

He took a small step closer, his brow furrowing slightly. "I like privacy," he explained, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "I don’t like it when people look at me." He paused, his gaze dropping to her silver dress, then lifting back to her face, his voice softening. "Or at you. Not tonight."

"But... but you can’t just waste money on... on such a trivial matter!" she finally managed to say, taking a deep, shaky breath. The sheer scale of it, the empty restaurant, the private rooftop, the orchestra for two, felt overwhelming. It was too much.

"It is not a trivial matter," he said, his voice firm, a flicker of genuine unhappiness crossing his features. He looked almost offended by the suggestion. He took a step closer, his gaze intent. "And I have a lot of cash." He stated it as a simple, indisputable fact, like saying the sky was above them. "Where else am I going to use it?"

He paused, his head tilting slightly as if the answer was obvious. "My... resources generate a significant amount of human currency. It has no value to me," he explained, his tone pragmatic. His shadow worker made vast sums from selling raw materials, but to him, money was never the goal. It was only a byproduct, a simple tool, nothing more than meaningless stacks of paper that held value only because humans believed they did. "Other than to give you a salary," he added, the corner of his mouth twitching, "and to buy things. Like this."

He waved a hand slightly, encompassing the starlit rooftop, the table, the violinist. This was the thing he had chosen to buy.

Alina just stared at him, her mind trying to reconcile the logic.

That’s true. He’s not human, so he didn’t even need any human money.

Her earlier shock melted into a dazed kind of understanding.

"Oh," she breathed. Then, with a little nod, "Got it."

Some of the tension left his shoulders. Seemingly satisfied that the financial ethics had been adequately explained, he moved to the beautifully set table. With an old world formality that contrasted sharply with their conversation, he pulled out her chair for her.

She sat, the silvery fabric of her dress pooling around her. He settled into the chair opposite, his movements fluid and assured once more. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Almost immediately, a waiter materialized as if from the air itself, presenting them with two elegant, leather bound menus. He gave a silent, respectful nod and retreated a few paces, giving them space while remaining perfectly attentive.

Alina stared at the menu, the flowing script blurring before her eyes. The prices were listed without dollar signs, just numbers that seemed to float on the page. A small, hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat. After the conversation they had just had, the cost of a truffle risotto felt laughably insignificant.

She peeked over the top of her menu at him and found Dante studying his own menu with focused intensity, his brow slightly furrowed as if he were facing a matter of great importance. The sight was so unexpectedly serious that a soft laugh escaped her before she could stop herself.

Dante’s eyes flicked up instantly, the tactical frown smoothing into a look of curiosity. "What is it?"

"You," she said, lowering her menu, her smile wide and unreserved now. "You look so serious. It’s just dinner."

"It is not ’just dinner’," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. He set his menu down carefully. "It is our first... official... date." He said the word ’date’ with a slight, formal hesitation, as if it were a foreign term he was trying out. "The details matter."

"The details," she repeated, her heart doing a slow, sweet somersault. "Like learning to drive. And finding a dress for me. And..." she gestured around them, "...renting the sky."