How the Tutor Survives 51

Chapter 51 – Flashback

Our itinerary was 3 days.

In terms of the time of coming and going, it would probably be less than two days purely, but nominally it was planned to spend three days.

The day after they had a hot night and crossed each other’s lines.

Holding hands, we sat on a hill overlooking the plains in the distance, enjoying the breeze.

“Teacher.”

“Huh.”

“Tell me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Teacher’s story.”

“I think I’ve told you quite a bit, but I still don’t think I know much about you.”

It wasn’t a very nice story to hear.

But she was staring at me as if she wanted to hear it today.

“It won’t be fun.”

I started digging through memories of the past.

###

Maybe it was a story that was dotted with loss.

My parents were famous wizards.

Of course, a 5-year-old wouldn’t have known that, but when I saw people treating my parents, I thought there must be something.

The only time I knew that for sure was the day a fairly high-ranking person came to my house.

At the words of my parents who were surprised to go out for a while, I went out without thinking at that time.

At this point, I had played a lot and came in, but I heard a scream at home.

Then a man who didn’t look good opened the door and came out.

In that state, he would have left as it was, but unexpectedly, he spoke to me.

“Are you Edward?”

When I was young, with nothing to say, I just bowed my head and said hello.

“Your parents taught you well.”

Then he stroked my hair once and left.

I looked at my parents without knowing anything.

The parents’ expressions didn’t look very good.

Standing in front of the door for a while, not knowing what to do

Her mother came over and gave me a hug.

“It’s okay, it’s just a disagreement with my father.”

Even then, it was a time when mother’s arms were better.

Things that had happened a while ago had long since disappeared from my mind.

I just wanted to enjoy my mother’s arms a little more.

As I got a little older, I realized what my parents were doing in earnest.

My parents said they were wizards who studied magic.

My mother told me that if you get a PhD in some field of magic, you’ll be called a wizard.

Sometimes it was strange to see my parents fighting all day over a certain topic or writing something in a corner all day long.

What can I do with that?

It seems that it has been since then.

That’s when I got really into magic.

I picked up a book that was lying on the bookshelf.

After all, my parents were busy and paid little attention to me, and all I had left was books and papers.

What would an 11-year-old know about magic?

An 11-year-old child who has seen magic used but has no idea how it works or how it starts.

The sight of her flipping through a book the thickness of her own arm was truly awkward.

The first book I saw was a book full of shapes with lines connected to them.

Most of the letters were written in black, but occasionally there were also letters written in red.

It was a little later that I found out that they were forbidden shapes.

My parents, who found a child who had been blindly flipping through books without even knowing it in a curious mind, looked at me without saying anything.

It was a long time since the sun had passed when I raised my head at the gaze as if someone was watching me.

Then I saw my parents watching me from outside the door.

“Let’s have dinner.”

My parents took me to the table without saying anything.

The meal went on without a word.

If you think about it now, you must have been full of thoughts about your own children who were interested in the same path as you.

“How was it?”

Surprisingly, it was his father who brought up the words.

“I don’t know.”

I flipped through the books without hesitation, but in fact I didn’t know what they meant or anything like that.

“I see.”

Perhaps the parents’ choice that day was withheld.

Let’s wait a little longer.

Wasn’t it just a coincidence?

The last thing I heard that day was my parents’ conversation.

From that day on, the only seat I was in was in front of that bookshelf.

There was no chair or anything on the floor, but I read the book as if it didn’t matter.

Chewing and eating is probably the right expression.

If there is a word I don’t know, I search through books that look similar to find out what it means and think about what happened.

My parents still didn’t say anything.

He just treated me as usual.

It was after reading all the books in the three columns below that my parents started talking to me in earnest.

The date moved on to the next year, and it was that year that I found out what kind of people my parents were.

It could have been seen as simply a place to reveal one’s job, but unexpectedly, inner stories flowed out.

Why we live here

What will happen when what you are doing now is over.

I won’t stop you walking this road, but I said it would be very difficult.

What did you mean by that?

Perhaps, now that I think about it, it came from the thought that if I knew this, I would be able to have a little more conversation with my parents.

Excellent parents were right, but probably not good parents.

There was no one who would take good care of the appearance of being left alone all day.

So it seems that I read the book more diligently.

With the simple idea that the more you know, the more time you will have to talk.

My parents also started to give me some time.

It was usually a time to briefly explain things I didn’t know, but at that time I liked even that.

If I put in a little more effort, wouldn’t this time increase little by little?

However, such a life did not last long.

###

That day was something different than usual.

I read books exceptionally well, and my parents spent less time in the room than usual.

At lunchtime, my mother ran errands to the small market in town to buy some things.

There were a few questions left, but I said I would understand if I could ask them when I came back.

I felt strange at the words of my parents to follow me carefully that day, but I said yes and left the house.

There was a little distance to the market, so I quickly started walking towards the market.

I met a familiar face while walking to the village, receiving and returning greetings from people who recognized me.

She was the daughter of a family who owned a bakery in the village.

The name… I can’t remember.

As much as she was, he was not interested in other people, and he was just saying hello, so he tried to just pass by.

“Where?”

“Market.”

“Why?”

“Errand.”

It was indirectly showing our relationship with words that only lead to short answers.

“Is it soon?

“I don’t know.”

I had work to do, so I had to go quickly.

“I have to go quickly. Let’s talk later.”

“Okay.”

She bowed her head, as if feeling sorry, but she didn’t say much.

Was her hair purple?

“Hello, mister.”

“Is Ed here?”

“Give me this, this, and this.”

“Wait a minute.”

I was standing there thinking, when I heard a voice from inside.

‘What are the parents of that house doing, always sending their children to run errands…’

‘I think he said he was a wizard.’

‘What if you’re a wizard, you don’t take care of a single child.’

‘Lower your voice, I’ll listen to you.’

It was since she had already been heard, but she decided to pretend she hadn’t heard.

Because it was absolutely true.

But I didn’t really care about it myself, because it was in my head that if all the houses were the same, it would be strange.

I wouldn’t have thought it would come out of a 12-year-old’s head.

After buying everything I needed and packing them all together, I turned toward the house.

It was a little heavier than usual, probably because it was larger than usual.

I started going back the exact opposite way I had come.

The sun was still high.

Before the sun sets in earnest.

It was a balance that wasn’t too high.

A bird’s cry was heard.

Not high, but deep.

It was the cry of a bird that some might consider an ominous omen to hear.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard a bird cry like that around here.

I didn’t think it was a big deal and walked towards the house, but smoke was coming from far away.

In general, I started to notice a little something strange about the black smoke instead of the white smoke.

Are you doing some kind of experiment?

I thought it was a bit excessive for that, but I thought it would be okay to go and see it, and started to walk faster.

The closer I got to the house, the more unusual the situation seemed to be.

The peak of the dragon was a piece of paper that had been brought to me.

He had no idea what the paper was.

It was the first page of the book I had ever seen.

Started running.

Regardless of how much weight he was carrying, he began to run frantically.

There was the sound of a bag hitting the ground.

What was inside was rolling around on the ground, but that didn’t matter.

It was only because I couldn’t take my eyes off the sight of the red devil spreading out in front of me.

The house was on fire.