Retired S-rank father becomes a teacher

On a Saturday morning, the sun was barely peeking through the curtains of Silas’ study. He was sitting on his chair alone. His family was sleeping but he was wide awake. His mind focused on the file in his hands that he’d gotten from Berlin, the one he asked for.

Russian dictionaries were scattered on the desk. He wasn’t proficient in the language, so this was taking him some time to read and he didn’t want to use technology for the task.

Turning another page, the ink on it was old, the letters faded from age. Some paragraphs were circled by a red pen. Berlin’s doing. It was a transcript from a meeting in the old Russian Hunter Association HQ. The location of Anzhu was also marked on the papers, an archipelago that vanished from modern maps.

Silas pinched his lips together. There were a lot of passages he translated but couldn’t understand the nuances of.

He grabbed a bottle of water and took a sip. The cool liquid refreshed his dry throat.

The research on this was mostly on mana cores. Illegal experiments.

The door to his study opened and he looked up from the papers to see Katherine in her pajamas. She had a sleepy expression on her face as she yawned and walked to him.

“Why are you up so early, old man?” she asked while stretching her arms.

“I’m busy learning Russian so I can understand a paper about some illegal magic experiments on mana cores,” he said with a deadpan expression.

His daughter rolled her eyes.

“Sure...whatever.” Kathy walked to the sofa next to his desk and fell face first on it. She groanded, “I hate you.”

He chuckled.

She was lying on the comfy sofa, her face buried in her arms, the blue blanket she brought with her loosely over her body, covering only her legs and stomach.

“You can hate me all you want Kathy...but I am still your papa,” he teased while flipping to another page.

Kathy mumbled something into her arms but he didn’t catch it. Then she started snoring.

A fond look made its way onto his face as he put the paper down and covered her body with the blanket fully, kissing the top of her head gently. Her black hair was soft.

Then he carried her back to her room, feeling her warmth against his chest. She would always wake up thinking she fell asleep in her own room and she didn’t have to know it wasn’t the case.

He sighed and sat back down on his desk chair. An hour passed as he translated the documents, the sun fully rising and brightening the room with its morning light.

Some passages were still incomprehensible. Probably the most important ones. Silas cursed under his breath, frustrated. He took out his phone and called Berlin. It rang a few times but he didn’t pick up.

“The old man is still sleeping huh,” Silas said to himself and threw his phone on the couch.

It was Saturday. His girls will wake up soon for breakfast and he needed to make pancakes. He would call Berlin later. Perhaps in the afternoon.

A shower sounded nice right now so he did that, letting the warm water wake him up a bit more as he stood under it. Then after drying himself he walked downstairs.

The batter was already in the mixing bowl, the only thing left was to cook them. The kitchen was quiet as he flipped a pancake. It smelled of vanilla. The spatula in his hand made the flipping of the pancake easy and smooth.

Even without his space magic he could flip pancakes, a skill he was proud of.

After he finished that task he put a plate in front of his empty chair. The kitchen still felt lonely without anyone around.

Sitting down, he ate his pancakes. the maple syrup was sweet and the fluffy pancakes melted in his mouth as he chewed. The taste was good and his coffee was warm, hitting the spot perfectly.

His girls were still asleep. Maybe he could quickly teleport to Berlin's mansion and ask for the missing details of the experiments then come back in time for breakfast with his family.

No. He always wanted to spend time with his daughters and wife in the morning, he shouldn’t skip it.

Putting the fork down on his empty plate he took a big sip of coffee. Elizabeth walked in with messy hair and a big yawn. A smile crept on his face. She looked like a cat that just woke up.

Her green eyes spotted the pancakes and she immediately made a beeline for them, taking a seat next to him.

“Shouldn’t you greet your handsome husband first, my love?” he asked teasingly.

Her mouth full of food as she ate, she swallowed and then looked at him with a warm smile, her hands still holding the cutlery.

“Good morning honey.” She said and then resumed eating, stuffing her cheeks like a chipmunk.

He laughed. Kathy inherited Liz’s appetite and eating manner, no doubt. His eyes moved to his wife’s lips, slightly greasy from the food.

With a finger, he swiped away the syrup on her lips. She paused for a second to look at him but he just put the syrup in his own mouth, licking his finger clean.

Then his hand went to her cheek, his thumb caressing it as they stared at each other.

“You know, my love, you look absolutely beautiful this morning.” The words were honest. Liz always looked beautiful. In every way to him.

A blush crept up on her cheeks.

“Stop flirting with me. I look like a mess right now,” she giggled, a bite of food in her mouth again.

A kiss on her cheek was his response. His lips left a faint trace on her soft skin.

Victoria and Katherine chose that moment to walk into the kitchen, making a beeline for the food too. Victoria made sure to hug her papa and mom before sitting down. Katherine hugged her mom, ignoring Silas.

The warmth spread through him as he watched his family eat their food together calmly. It was always like this in the mornings when no one had anything planned.

The afternoon came quickly, his body was still full from the pancakes, his mind still full of his family. But the files about the experiment were still incomplete.

He picked up his phone and called Berlin. Even an old man couldn’t sleep forever. It rang five times before it went to voicemail. He frowned.

“I’ll just pay him a visit,” he said out loud.Then he teleported to the old man’s home, his estate.

The sky was rainy. The gray clouds loomed over the city, casting a gloom as he stood on the steps leading up to the front door of Berlin’s home. Silas used his spatial sense and didn’t find Berlin. Not that it was weird because Sealing magic could hide from space magic easily.

A knock on the door. No response.

A second knock and he waited a minute but the door didn’t open. He teleported inside, to the living room and decided to wait for the old man to get back from his job. The leather couch he sat on was cold and smelled of smoke. The house itself was old, like an artifact from another time.

“Is that an ash tray in an ash tray? Man this old fuck needs someone to take care of him,” he muttered to himself.

He leaned back. Closing his eyes, he focused on his senses. The smell of old wood and tobacco surrounded him, the rain picking up outside and pattering against the windows,the house creaked every now and then, its walls settling into a quiet lull.

The minutes ticked by and still there was no sign of his friend.

With a sigh, Silas decided to look around a bit, walking upstairs the steps were loud with his feet, the floorboards unstable. The walls were lined with old pictures, pictures he was in too. He stopped in front of one. The image of a younger Silas Vane with a smile, a younger Berlin with a smirk, and a woman with blue hair. Matilda. The Judge before Lucifer.

He continued on to the bedroom. The smell of smoke was more intense even with the oak door closed. Turning the handle, it opened with a creak.

The bedroom was messy, clothes scattered on the bed and floor. The ashtrays were overflown with ashes.

Silas frowned.

It was dark and gloomy in there.

The bed was occupied. A lump was tucked under the blanket. The mana had left.

His stomach dropped. Silas took slow steps, each one making a creak. His hand went to pull the blanket aside and his friend was there. Berlin’s eyes were half-open and his skin was cold to the touch.

Peaceful.

Yet the weight in his chest was unbearable. One. Two. That was how heartbeats sounded to him. One. Two. Not zero.

The rain pattered against the window but it sounded distant, muffled, and he could not think. Silas stayed there until the sun had vanished and returned. His hand on Berlin’s cold chest.

A tear fell as he closed the old man’s eyes.

One. Two.