Retired S-rank father becomes a teacher

The sound of the flush was loud in the quiet restroom. I snapped out of my thoughts. The light was harsh on my eyes as I stepped away from the sink. The lady didn’t look at me again, instead she focused on fixing her make up and hair. Her blonde hair. Of course it was blonde.

Why did I think about killing her in a restroom, anyway?

She washed her hands and looked at me through the mirror, a fake smile on her face.

“Excuse me, darling.” Her voice was sweet but dripping with arrogance.

“What?” I raised an eyebrow.

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and the frown on her face was clear now. One of her manicured nails was chipped on the index finger.

“Where the fuck are your manners little girl?” she scoffed at me, stepping closer. “What did I do to you for you to glare at me like that?”

This woman was taller than me. Her brown eyes staring down at me with condescension. Her face was familiar, I’ve seen it somewhere, maybe a picture or a magazine but not important.

I should apologize, bow my head and leave. The princess thing to do. Papa wouldn’t like me getting into trouble for no reason, especially since I don’t even know this woman’s name.

“I’m sorry,”

Her laughter cut my words off.

“You’re sorry? I don’t want your apology.” She rolled her eyes and continued, “I know your type, daddy's little princess, huh? Let me guess— you're not even his favorite.”

She pointed her nail at my face, “I bet your mommy was too busy fucking around to teach you basic fucking etiquette.” Her voice got higher.

My blood boiled. Calm down, Victoria.

“Listen here—”

But she wasn’t having it, her face was inches away from mine as she pushed me against the wall, the mirror rattling. The cold tiles pressed against my back. I could still walk away from this. Papa would want me to walk away from this. After all princesses didn't make scenes in restrooms.

“Did daddy abandon your mommy after she got all used up?”

No.

My nail found the seam of my shirt. One. Two.

My vision narrowed to just her smirking face. That face. My fist connected with her nose before I could even think, a crunch of bone breaking. She stumbled back in shock, holding her bleeding nose.

I rushed her. My rage taking control. Grabbing her hair I smashed her face against the mirror, the sound of shattering glass echoed and blood dripped on the floor, mixing with the water from the sinks.

“Papa is perfect.”

She tried to crawl away. I followed. Her head slammed into the floor.

I couldn't stop. I didn't want to.

Again and again until it was a mess of blood and glass. My hands were stained red and my heart was beating loudly in my chest.

“Fuck you,” I spat on the now unmoving woman.

Then I fell on my knees. My hands trembled as I looked at the destruction. What did I do? Papa would be so disappointed in me.

My eyes went to the blood pooling on the floor next to the body. The grout between the tiles was filling with red. Neat lines. Even spacing.

My throat ached. Did I kill her? Did I overdo it? Papa would be furious with me. I tried to stand but I slipped on the blood, falling and banging my elbow on the sink.

Blood on my shirt. Blood on my hands. A proper princess was always neat.

Tears blurred my vision.

What have I done? She wasn’t a monster, she was just mean. I was the monster. Breathe. Breathe.

I smoothed my shirt down. Once. The blood made it stick.

The air was suffocating.

I couldn’t stay here. This place was wrong, wrong, wrong. The mirror shards cut into my skin. The door opened. Papa. It had to be.

Turning around I saw another stranger. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene. A hand over her mouth, she was going to scream. So I did what any logical person would do.

The mana left my hands before I decided to use it. Her body was slammed against the wall of the restroom and she fell, blood pooling from her mouth and eyes.

Oh no. No no no.

My body shook uncontrollably as I saw my reflection in the shattered mirror: a witch with wild purple eyes. Witches didn't get a happily ever after. They got cast out. The castle doors closing behind them and never opening again.

“Papa, papa...I’m sorry.”

I hugged my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth. The scent of iron filled my nostrils and the world closed in. Papa will fix this, he always did. I just had to wait here and he would come. I’m a princess. His princess.

Footsteps were coming from the hall outside the bathroom. They were loud. Many feet. I squeezed my eyes shut. Everyone felt the mana fluctuations, of course they would.

“Hey! Who’s in there?” a male voice asked. I didn’t recognize it.

My heart raced. I hugged myself tighter, the blood was starting to dry and my hair covered my face. Princes didn't come for witches.

The door handle turned.

“Leave.” Another male voice, deep and powerful. It was papa.

His purple eyes glowed in the dark room as he entered the bathroom. I looked up, my vision blurry with tears.

“Papa...” My voice was broken.

He crouched in front of me, his hands reaching for my face, brushing away the strands of my hair, his thumbs wiping the tears.

“Are you okay princess?” he asked. Never once did his gaze shift to the bodies behind him.

A sob left me. “No...” my arms wrapped around him, holding on to his shirt. I clung to him like a child. “Please... I’m sorry. I don’t want you to hate me.” My head was in the crook of his neck, hiding from the world, his scent comforting me.

Papa rubbed my back in soothing circles, his other hand still holding my cheek. “Hate you? I could never hate my sweet, precious girl.” The gentle tone in his voice made the tears flow more.

“I killed them...I killed them papa,” I cried, my body shivering.

A kiss was placed on the top of my head. I felt his warm breath on my ear, his hand stroking my hair.

The shouting of the people outside were clipped short, silenced. The iron scent vanished. The blood under me gone.

Before I knew it, we were somewhere else. The ceiling was different. Softer light. The smell of iron was gone and in its place, lavender. I blinked. Home. Papa's bathroom. Water was already running, warm steam rising and I was already on his lap, already held, like he'd caught me mid-fall and I hadn't even noticed the ground disappear.

When he was done he started to take off my clothes, the shards of the mirror disappearing into nothing as he took of my pants. I didn’t protest, letting him do what he wanted and when I was naked, I was placed in the bath, the hot water stinging the cuts on my body but it didn’t matter because papa was there.

He rolled up his sleeves and got into the bath with me, fully clothed, pulling me onto his lap again. I turned around to face him and wrapped my arms around his torso. The blood on his shirt mixed with the water.

I was a mess of tears and snot.

Papa was the only thing keeping me together right now.

“Am I still your princess?” My voice was hoarse from crying.

I felt him nod against my head. “Forever my princess,” he murmured, his hands holding me close.

A bittersweet smile formed on my lips. The water was red around me yet it felt like the calmest ocean I ever saw. My eyes started to close as exhaustion hit me. Papa was here and he loved me, blood and tears.