I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!-Chapter 573

"Yes... yes..." the voice replied slowly. "This is Elder Goldie. I am the one who watches the little chaos ghost."

He sounded like he was lying down somewhere. Possibly on a cloud. Possibly just floating in place.

Alina straightened a little.

"Elder Goldie, I’m sorry to disturb you," she said gently. "I just wanted to ask why Boo is absent today. He is always present, so I was a little concerned."

There was a pause.

Then suddenly, "Hahahahaha!"

A loud, amused laugh echoed through the call, crackling slightly.

"Our ghost tower people are very disciplined," Elder Goldie said proudly, as if this was an established fact. "Very organized. Very responsible. We make sure he goes to school daily. On time. Usually."

Alina let out a small breath.

"Then... is everything alright? Is Boo okay?"

"Yes, yes, everything is fine," he said casually. "Perfectly fine. No problems. We just did not send him today."

"May I ask why?" she said softly.

"Ah," he said, his tone becoming slightly more animated. "It is a special night for us ghosts. Very special. Very important. Ghost holiday."

"A special night?" Alina asked, curious now.

"Yes," he continued. "A night when the moon is completely hidden. Not even a trace of light in the sky. Very dark. Very ghostly. Very atmospheric."

Alina nodded slightly.

"A dark moon night?"

"Yes!" he said enthusiastically. "You can call it that. Some call it new moon night, but we prefer dark moon. Feels more ghost-like. More mysterious."

He chuckled lazily.

"We celebrate this night. It is very important for us. Ancient tradition. Big event. Ghosts from all over gather."

Alina smiled faintly.

"I see."

"We have been preparing since morning," he added. "Decorations everywhere. Rituals. Ceremonies. And food—well, not food for us, but we prepare it for the offerings. You understand."

"...Yes," she said softly, trying not to smile at the way he said "offerings" like it was a casual grocery run.

"And in all that preparation," he continued casually, "we forgot to inform the school."

Alina shook her head lightly.

"You really forgot?"

"Yes."

"Just like that?"

"Yes," he said without any shame whatsoever. "We are ghosts. These things happen. We get distracted. Very easily distracted. Ooh, shiny—sorry, what was the question?"

Alina couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

"You sound very relaxed about it."

"We are ghosts," he replied simply. "We believe in conserving energy. No point in rushing. No point in worrying. What happens, happens."

"...That sounds like an excuse."

"It is a philosophy," he corrected calmly. "Very old philosophy. Very wise. You should try it."

Alina smiled, her earlier worry easing completely.

"And Boo?" she asked. "Is he alright? Is he feeling okay?"

"Happier than ever," Elder Goldie said warmly. "He has been floating around since morning, telling everyone ’festival gossip.’ Very busy child. Very important. He appointed himself head of announcements."

Alina shook her head slightly, smiling.

"That sounds exactly like him."

"He even tried to organize a ’ghost parade,’" Elder Goldie added lazily. "Wanted everyone to float in a circle and sing. Very ambitious. Very Boo."

"Did anyone join?"

"No. No one joined."

Alina laughed softly.

"He did it alone," Elder Goldie continued. "Floated in circles for ten minutes. Sang the whole time. Very loud. Very off-key."

"...Please tell him we missed him in class."

There was a pause.

Then Elder Goldie chuckled.

"I will tell him. He will be very pleased. He enjoys being missed. He will probably add it to his announcements tomorrow."

Alina nodded gently.

"And he will come tomorrow?"

"Yes, yes. Tomorrow he returns to his... academic life," he said with a sigh. "No more ghost holiday. No more parades. Back to responsibilities."

Alina smiled.

"I’ll be waiting for him."

The call ended.

For a moment, she stood quietly in the classroom, holding her phone, her heart lighter now.

Boo wasn’t sick.

Boo wasn’t sad.

Boo was celebrating in his own chaotic, wonderful way. Floating in circles alone, singing off-key, organizing parades that no one joined.

She placed the phone down and glanced once more at the empty corner near the window.

She smiled softly, then picked up her things and walked toward the principal’s office.

The hallway was quiet, most of the children still at recess, their distant laughter echoing faintly through the open windows. Sunlight streamed across the stone floors, warm and golden.

She knocked lightly before stepping inside.

Dante was seated behind his desk, his attention fixed on something in front of him. The soft glow of the screen reflected faintly in his dark eyes, casting small shadows across his sharp features. His hair was loose today, falling slightly over his brow, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows the way she liked.

But what caught her attention most was a deep, almost amused smile resting on his face.

Alina paused at the door for a second.

That smile.

It always caught her off guard.

She stepped inside.

"Oh? What is making you so happy, Dee?" she asked curiously, her voice warm.

Dante looked up.

The moment his eyes met hers, his smile softened, becoming something warmer, something meant only for her.

"You will be happy too after hearing it," he said.

Alina walked closer and sat in the chair opposite him, resting her hands lightly on her lap. She tilted her head, curious now.

"Oh, is that so?" she said with a small smile. "Tell me first. Only then I will decide if it makes me happy."

Dante leaned back slightly in his chair, folding his hands across his chest.

"You know," he began calmly, "in a few months, Class D’s semester will end."

Alina’s expression changed immediately.

Her smile faded.

The warmth in her chest cooled, replaced by something heavier, something she had been trying not to think about.

"...Dee," she said softly, a hint of sadness slipping into her voice, "this does not make me happy. I wish I could freeze time."

For a moment, she looked down, her fingers lightly tightening together in her lap at the thought of those little desks being empty.

She wasn’t ready.

She might never be ready.

Dante watched her quietly, his expression gentle.

"They have to go, little Dove," he said gently. "That is how things move forward."

She did not respond immediately.

"They will grow," he continued, his tone steady and sure. "And you will still meet them. You can stay in contact. Letters. Visits. They will come back to show you how tall they have grown."

He paused slightly.

"But that is not what I meant."

Alina looked up at him, a little confused now.

"...Then what?"

Dante looked at the screen, then at her.

"I have already started receiving letters and emails," he said, "for new student enrollments for the next term."