All-around teacher at the magic academy

Mr. Logan began his journey home, his steps heavy, his gaze unfocused as he swept over the bustling crowds on the street. His thoughts were like fallen leaves scattered by the wind, chaotic and disordered.

He originally thought that he would feel more relaxed after it was over, but in reality, the burden in his heart not only did not lessen, but became even heavier due to self-examination.

He couldn't help but laugh at his own ugliness in his heart; the self-doubt and self-denial stung him.

He wandered aimlessly through the crowd, unsure of where he should go or where he could go. Could he ever return to the academy? Could he ever become a teacher again?

Logan took a deep breath of cold air. He knew he wasn't the protagonist of the story, without any special aura. He knew he had made the wrong choices, and those mistakes were like scars etched into his heart, constantly reminding him of his past.

But does that mean he has lost the right to live? He was unwilling to accept this fate.

He has always considered himself a pragmatist, believing that it is acceptable to sacrifice the interests of others in order to achieve his own goals.

He felt that he was just that kind of person, somewhat selfish, and sometimes even cold-hearted.

He always believed he would be this kind of person, and at the moment he made the decision, he firmly believed that his choice was correct and embarked on this path without hesitation.

But for some reason, he felt a pang of guilt, a feeling like an invisible hand gripping his heart tightly, making it hard for him to breathe.

For the first time, he felt disgusted with himself, a feeling so intense that he began to question the beliefs he had always held.

"Dad, I want a lollipop." A clear voice broke Logan's thoughts. He quickly turned his head and saw a warm and ordinary scene before him, which touched the softest part of his heart.

Seeing the two people behind him, a tall man and a lively little boy, the man's face was filled with a gentle smile, and his hand was gently stroking the boy's head, the action full of love.

"Okay, then we'll buy one."

"Yay!" The little boy danced with joy, his face beaming with excitement. Logan watched them, a strange warmth welling up inside him.

"Is it good?" The man held the little boy's hand, and the two walked with their backs to Logan. The boy's steps were light, and the lollipop in his hand sparkled in the sunlight.

"It's so sweet, Daddy, do you want to try some?" the boy said happily. He stopped and carefully took the candy out of his mouth and offered it to the man's lips.

The man quickly squatted down, licked the lollipop in the little boy's hand, and said, "So sweet."

"Right? I didn't lie to Daddy," the little boy said proudly, his eyes curving into crescent shapes and his smile radiant.

"Mmm, my son is such a good boy." The man gently stroked the boy's head again, his eyes filled with happiness and contentment.

When is Mom coming back?

"They'll be back soon. Let's go home and wait." The man stood up, took the boy's hand, and the two walked together toward home, leaving Logan standing there lost in thought.

Logan's gaze followed the father and son's retreating figures until they disappeared around the street corner, a feeling he couldn't quite describe welling up inside him.

Is it happiness, pain, memories, or guilt and self-blame? This tangled mix of emotions suffocates him, yet he cannot completely sever it. Perhaps this feeling is a punishment he inflicts on his past, an inescapable self-judgment.

Logan took a deep breath, turned away, and stopped letting his gaze follow the heartwarming scene.

The streets were bustling with pedestrians, their laughter and chatter, their busy lives—all of this kept him at a distance, as if he were an observer of the world, forever a lonely outsider.

He started walking mechanically, unaware of how long he had walked or how he had gotten back to this familiar room.

Opening the door, the room was still furnished as before. The items lay there quietly, old and silent. The book was still perfectly intact on the desk, waiting for its owner to read it again.

Logan walked to the desk, his fingers lightly gliding across the pages in an almost ritualistic gesture, filled with nostalgia for the past and reverence for knowledge.

He gently opened the book, and those familiar words once again came into view. Every word and every sentence felt like an old friend, both familiar and strange.

Time slipped silently through Logan's fingers, each second like a drop of water falling into a calm lake, creating ripples.

However, his heart felt as if it were being crushed by a boulder, and he couldn't calm down. Usually, he could quickly immerse himself in the vast river of history, but today, the words that once fascinated him seemed to have lost their magic, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't concentrate on the pages.

He began to doubt whether his heart was no longer pure and whether he was qualified to touch these chapters full of wisdom and vicissitudes, or whether he had grown tired and weary of his past persistence.

Logan finally put down his book, his gaze piercing through the window, quietly watching the scenery outside. A gentle breeze blew, and the leaves outside danced in the wind, drifting down and flying into the unknown distance.

He snapped out of his reverie and reached for the envelope he had hidden. The letter was still as intact as when he had received it. He hadn't opened it because he knew its contents were no longer important; everything was in the past, and there was no need to reopen it.

As he watched the letter burning in his hand, the flickering flames mirrored his fluctuating emotions.

dong dong dong-

The knocking echoed in the quiet room, interrupting Logan's thoughts.

His thoughts were abruptly pulled back to reality. He sighed softly, composed himself, and then slowly got up and walked towards the door.

His steps were somewhat heavy, and he couldn't help but wonder who would come looking for him at this time. His residence was always secluded and rarely had visitors, so this sudden disturbance made his feelings even more complicated.

He told himself that no matter who came or what their reasons were, he was unwilling to investigate further; perhaps this was fate's arrangement for him.

Logan grasped the doorknob and gently turned it open, letting in the light from outside and illuminating his face.

He squinted at the figure standing in the doorway; it was a familiar face.

He forced a smile and tried to make his tone sound warm: "Professor Leon, it's been a long time."