Chapter 256: Chapter 256 My wrist is crying!
"Everyone take out your notebooks and draw and write this!" Alina said brightly, turning toward the board as she began writing short points beside the little plant diagram she’d drawn earlier.
The moment her chalk touched the board, the room filled with a chorus of soft groans.
Drake slumped dramatically in his chair. Boo hid behind his open notebook as if it could shield him from responsibility. Even Luna, usually angry and grumpy, leaned back with an exaggerated sigh.
But then Boo froze mid-whine. His big ghostly eyes darted toward the back of the room, where Dante still sat, perfectly silent, his crimson gaze following everything.
Boo clamped his tiny mouth shut. Drake noticed too, and he sat up straight instantly, pretending to write, though his pencil wasn’t even touching the paper.
One by one, the rest followed. Sable quietly adjusted his notebook, Lucien sat upright like a prince, and even Vlad Jr. folded his arms and nodded to himself, as though the presence of the principal demanded elegance.
Only Alina didn’t notice. She was busy drawing an arrow from the word "Plant" to the word "Oxygen," her voice soft and patient as she explained.
Boo held his book close, muttering under his breath, "The torture begins..."
Drake felt his little hand starting to ache just by holding the pencil. "Teacher," he muttered weakly, "can’t we just... imagine we wrote it?"
Alina turned around with her teacher smile. "No, Drake, writing helps you remember."
Drake groaned and started scribbling half-heartedly, his brows furrowed like a tiny warrior forced into battle. After a few seconds, feeling utterly betrayed by life, he poked Luna with his pencil out of pure frustration.
"Teacher! Drake is poking me!" Luna yelled instantly, her tail flicking.
"Drake!" Alina spun around, glaring at him with mock sternness.
Drake froze mid-poke, his eyes wide, mouth forming a tiny "O."
Luna sat dramatically, rubbing her hand with a pitiful face. It was strange—her resting face was always angry, but her teary act looked far too convincing.
"What happened, sweetheart?" Alina asked gently, crouching beside her desk.
"Teacher, Drake poked my hand. It hurts! I can’t write," Luna said, her golden-brown eyes glimmering like she was auditioning for a sad play.
Alina’s heart softened instantly. Poor little thing. Her skin really was sensitive—she couldn’t risk making her write. "Oh no, don’t write then, okay? Just rest your hand."
Luna sniffled dramatically, lowering her head. "But teacher... who’s going to write for me? What if I miss something?" she whispered pitifully, batting her lashes.
This always worked on her daddy and mommy. Would it work on teacher too? Luna thought.
Alina blinked, thinking for a moment, then turned toward Drake. "Drake! Why did you poke Luna? Write for Luna too!" She handed him Luna’s notebook.
Luna’s eyes lit up. It worked.
Drake’s jaw dropped. His eyes went as round as the moon. He looked from Luna to Alina, speechless. "W-what?! Two notebooks?! Teacher, my hands are small! I’ll die!"
Boo gasped in fake horror, floating dramatically. "He’s doomed! A double-writing punishment!"
Kelpie covered his mouth, giggling. "He’s going to melt before finishing the first page."
Rocky leaned forward and whispered, "Maybe if he turns into a dragon, he’ll have more hands."
"Not funny!" Drake snapped, scribbling angrily in both books, his tongue sticking out in concentration. "My wrist is crying! My ancestors are watching in shame!"
Luna peeked at his writing and smiled proudly. "Good job. You missed a dot."
Drake froze mid-letter. "You. Did. Not. Just. Say. That."
Alina pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. "Drake, just finish nicely, okay?"
"I’m finishing," he grumbled.
At that moment, Boo floated over, smirking mischievously. "Teacher, I think you should also let Drake write for me. My ghostly hands can’t hold pencils!"
The class erupted in laughter.
"Boo!" Drake shouted, slamming both pencils on the desk. "Stop volunteering me!"
"Fine, fine," Boo said, twirling in midair. "I’ll write with my invisible hand." He made exaggerated air-writing gestures, spinning in slow circles.
Luna snorted. Sable giggled. Kelpie splashed a little water from his cup in amusement.
And at the back of the room, Dante leaned back in his chair, shadows shifting faintly beside him. His gaze followed the chaos with quiet fascination—the laughter, the innocence, the teacher who somehow made even disorder feel like harmony.
When Alina finally looked back and met his gaze, he didn’t say anything—just gave a faint nod, a hint of warmth hidden behind his calm expression.
Her heart skipped, and she quickly turned back to the board, pretending to focus on writing "Plants are important for life," while her cheeks glowed like sunlight.
Meanwhile, Drake was fuming silently at his desk, his little claws gripping both pencils like weapons of war. He kept glancing sideways at Luna, who was sitting there with the most satisfied expression, as if she were the queen of the classroom and he was her loyal scribe. Every time he looked up, she crossed her arms and said sweetly, "Write neatly."
That was it. That was the last straw.
Inside Drake’s head, a dramatic villain theme was already playing. His eyes narrowed, and the corners of his mouth twitched like a plotting cartoon villain. Just wait, wolf girl. I’ll get my revenge. You won’t even see it coming.
Boo, who had been floating nearby, caught that look on Drake’s face and immediately drifted backward, whispering to himself, "Nope. Not me. Boo likes peace. Boo will not be caught in crossfire." He turned around and dramatically picked up his pencil—if pretending to write could be called "picking up." His little ghost hand wiggled in the air, making invisible lines.
But the thought hit him like lightning. Wait. I’m already dead. Why am I studying?
His mouth dropped open in silent disbelief, and he looked around the class with tragic eyes. Justice for me! he thought. Why must ghost children suffer too?
Still, seeing Drake forced to write Luna’s notebook gave him some comfort. Boo began to giggle under his breath, the sound soft and mischievous. "Hehehe... rock, fire, water, ghost... everyone suffering together," he muttered to himself like a little philosopher.
Rocky, meanwhile, was dutifully scratching on paper with his pencil, his tongue poking out in concentration. Kelpie had water droplets floating near his desk to help cool his hands between lines. And poor Boo was floating in circles, pretending to study while mumbling, "Even rocks and water have to study... hehehe..."