After âdyingâ at the hands of mother, the young Isaac opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a white ceiling.
He didnât know where he was.
His head hurt like someone had smashed a rock against it.
A faint beeping sound echoed beside him, and when he turned, he saw a machine monitoring his heartbeat.
He was in a hospital.
A nurse noticed he was awake and called the doctor.
They asked him some questions about his name, where he lived, if he had family.
Isaac couldnât answer any of them.
His mind was blank.
Nothing came to him.
Where he had been living, who he was, what he had done until now. It was all gone.
Even trying to remember made his head hurt more.
After a few days, the doctor said his injuries had healed enough for him to be discharged, but his memory might take time to recover.
So they sent him to an orphanage in the city.
The place was small but decent.
The caretakers were kind and tried to make him feel welcome.
The children were lively at first, often coming to talk to him, asking where he came from, but Isaac couldnât answer much.
Over time, they stopped trying.
He didnât talk much, didnât play, didnât laugh.
He just sat outside most of the time, staring at the sky.
The staff said he was a quiet boy.
The children called him strange behind his back.
And then, one day, he found out about his past from a newspaper.
The orphanage he had been living in beforeâbefore this oneâwas destroyed.
A monster had entered the city and hid there.
Nobody noticed until it was too late.
Isaac had survived only because he came late.
He later when to check that orphanage.
When he saw the ruins, he felt something tear inside him.
He didnât remember the faces of the people who died there.
He didnât even remember living there.
But he felt like something important had been taken from him.
He didnât know why, but sometimes, when he visited that place, his eyes would sting, and tears would fall without him realizing.
It was around that time he started hating orphanages.
He didnât know why, but the thought of staying in one made him feel sick.
The orphanage kid called him unlucky too, because he was the only one who survived, so he didnât feel anything about leaving them behind.
He started working small part-time jobs. Delivering things, cleaning stores, anything he could find.
He saved money bit by bit, planning to move out.
Despite being a child, he managed on his own.
Somewhere in his mind, faint traces of his past lifeâthe one on Earthâhelped him survive.
He knew how to manage money, cook, and handle people.
When he finally had enough, he left the orphanage without looking back.
He rented a small room and began living alone.
He worked during the day and studied at night.
His goal was simple: get into the academy.
It wasnât easy.
Balancing work, study, and training took everything out of him.
But no matter how tired he got, something inside pushed him forward.
A faint voice, like a memory he couldnât reach, told him he needed to get stronger.
He didnât know why.
He just felt like there was something he had to achieve. Someone had to defeat.
And then, time passed.
The second semester at the academy began.
It was a normal morning.
Isaac sat in his usual seat near the window.
The classroom buzzed with noise as students chatted and laughed.
Alice was sitting beside him, talking to Paul, who was waving his hands around, trying to explain something.
"Iâm telling you, sheâs gorgeous. I saw her walking through the main building when she came here last semester. Every guy in the hall stopped what they were doing," Paul said.
Alice rolled her eyes. "Sheâs a professor. Stop staring at her, and making her uncomfortable."
Isaac leaned back in his chair. "Seeing everyone so excited, youâd think sheâs using some social skill to charm people."
Paul laughed. "Youâll see when she walks in."
A few minutes later, the door opened.
The classroom fell quiet.
A woman stepped inside.
She had brown hair tied neatly, golden eyes that seemed to shine under the light, and a calm smile that drew everyoneâs attention.
Her presence filled the room effortlessly.
"Good morning, everyone. Iâm Professor Catherine. Iâll be teaching your class this semester," she said.
Her voice was smooth and confident.
The students murmured among themselves, impressed.
Isaac watched her in silence.
He had never seen her before, or at least, he thought he hadnât.
But the moment their eyes met, something stirred inside him.
His chest felt tight.
His hands went cold.
He didnât understand why, but she felt familiar.
Like someone he had been waiting to meet for a long time.
He tried to shake the feeling off, blaming it on her charm or some unknown social skill.
But as the lecture went on, he couldnât focus on anything she said.
Every time she smiled, it felt like a memory was trying to surface.
âItâs probably a social skill,â he told himself again. âSheâs too perfect. That must be it.â
Still, the feeling didnât go away.
Days passed. Classes continued. Isaac noticed that everyone liked her. Boys and girls both.
She had a way of making people feel at ease, even when teaching difficult topics.
But Isaac couldnât relax around her.
The closer he got, the stronger the strange feeling became.
He kept telling himself to ignore it.
But by the end of the week, he found himself standing outside her office.
He sighed. "If Alice finds out Iâm here, sheâll say I got swayed by her looks."
He hesitated for a moment, then knocked.
"Come in," her voice called from inside.
He opened the door.
The office smelled faintly of lavender.
Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with notes and research materials.
A small photo frame sat on her desk, facing her side.
He couldnât see the picture, but it looked important to her given how it was in the office.
"Good evening, Professor," Isaac said, stepping in.
She looked up and smiled. "Isaac. What brings you here?"
"I had a few doubts about monster habitats. I thought you might explain them better," he said quickly.
"Of course. Please, sit down."
He took a seat across from her, and they began discussing the topic.
She explained patiently, drawing diagrams on her tablet, sometimes pausing to make sure he was following.
Isaac listened carefully, though his mind kept drifting.
He kept sneaking glances at her, trying to understand why he felt so uneasy.
Her voice, her gestures, even the faint way she tilted her head while thinking.
It all felt too familiar.
Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldnât remember anything.
An hour passed like that.
"Does that make it clearer?" she asked finally.
"Yes, thank you. Youâre really good at explaining things," he said, smiling awkwardly.
She chuckled softly. "Thatâs what Iâm supposed to be good at."
The silence that followed felt heavy.
Isaac tapped his fingers on the table, unsure what to do next.
His logical side screamed at him to leave, but something deeper held him there.
Finally, he spoke.
"Professor," he said slowly. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Have we... met before?"
For a moment, her expression froze.
It was subtle, but Isaac caught it.
It was the first time he saw her genuinely surprised.
Her golden eyes widened just a little, and then something flickered in them. Something like disbelief.
It was as if she had heard something that shouldnât be possible.
The reaction made Isaac feel awkward.
He immediately regretted asking.
He thought she must have thought he was hitting on her, so he quickly said, "Sorry if it was an awkward question. I just felt like I know you. But no matter how hard I try, I canât recall it. So I decided to ask directly."
Catherine blinked and looked down for a second.
"So you remember," she mumbled.
"Sorry?" Isaac leaned forward. "I didnât hear that, Professor."
Catherine suddenly looked up and smiled, brightly this time. For a second, it looked like some kind of relief washed over her.
Her shoulders relaxed.
"I said," she repeated, "was that your pickup line, Isaac?"
Isaac blinked. "What?"
Her smile turned mischievous.
But Isaacâs face burned red.
She really did think he was hitting on her!
Dammit.
"I wasnât hitting on you, Professor. I would never think of doing that," he said quickly.
Catherine leaned back in her chair, pretending to look offended. "Why? You think Iâm not beautiful enough to be hit on?"
Isaac froze. "No, thatâs not it. Youâre very beautiful. But I would never hit on my professor."
"Oh?" she asked playfully. "So what youâre saying is, if we werenât professor and student, you would have hit on me?"
Isaac opened his mouth, then closed it.
He was completely lost for words.
The more he spoke, the deeper he was digging his own grave.
Catherine, on the other hand, was enjoying every second of it.
Her teasing smile made it clear.
"Forget it," Isaac muttered finally, standing up. "Thanks for explaining about monster habitats."
"Youâre welcome. And donât worry, I wonât tell anyone about your confession," she said, still smiling.
"It wasnât a confession!"
She laughed quietly as he hurried out of her office.
After that day, Isaac found himself talking to Professor Catherine more often.
At first, it was just for academic reasons like questions about assignments or research topics.
But then, she began helping him with other things too.