I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!
Chapter 71 Ghost race

Chapter 71: Chapter 71 Ghost race

"Oh my goodness, Boo..." Alina said, half laughing, half shushing him, though she was secretly tickled pink at the thought of Dante’s hidden sweet tooth. "That’s our little secret, alright? You can’t tell anyone else."

"Promise!" Boo said. "But Teacher — if you ever want, Boo will steal chocolate from Principal’s box for you!" He looked so serious she had to bite back another laugh. .com

"No, no stealing," she said, booping his nose softly. "But thank you for telling me your precious secret, Boo. Teacher feels very special."

Boo puffed up proudly, spinning around in a happy little loop. "Boo’s teacher is best gossip friend ever!" he said, his giggles echoing softly under the evening sky.

"So, Boo..." Alina said softly, her voice barely louder than the rustling leaves nearby. She looked at him — his little semi-transparent body floating just inches from her knee. His tiny feet didn’t touch the ground, and his ghost tail curled like soft mist.

She hesitated. Should I really ask? But her curiosity got the better of her. She lifted her hand, palm open. Boo giggled and tried to grab it but his tiny smoky fingers slipped right through hers, like fog.

Her chest squeezed a little. "Boo," she asked gently, "how were you born? I mean... your parents...?"

Boo’s big ghost eyes blinked at her — so wide and dark they looked like shiny marbles. For a second, he seemed to think hard. Then he bobbed once, as if saying, Ah, Teacher really doesn’t know!

"Ohhh," he said, in his small, secretive voice. He turned his head, eyes looking at the sky, like he was trying to remember exactly how his elders had told him the story. Then he floated a bit closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear. freew\e bnovel.com

"Boo... Boo died when he was little," he whispered matter-of-factly, not sad at all — just honest, like a child telling her a bedtime story. "Elders said sometimes, when ghost babies die too early, they come back. Not like people — not reborn as baby again in belly. They come back as ghost babies."

Alina’s heart ached, but she kept her smile soft, her hand still open on her lap. "So you were... given another chance?" she asked.

Boo nodded, his wispy hair floating around his tiny ears. "Mhm. But ghost babies don’t come easy. Elders say it’s because ghosts... we use lots of energy just staying here. So ghost race can’t have many new babies. Most ghosts are old, old, old but not Boo! Boo is little!" He puffed his cheeks proudly, as if being the youngest ghost in the world was the greatest badge of honor.

Alina’s throat tightened. She wanted to hold him so badly, but her hand just slipped through his misty body. So she did the next best thing — she reached out and traced a tiny circle in his tail with her finger. Boo giggled at the ticklish feeling.

"Does Boo feel lonely sometimes?" she asked softly.

Boo shrugged, trying to look brave, but his tiny voice trembled just a little. "Sometimes. Elders are nice — they tell Boo stories and teach Boo things. But Boo likes kindergarten better! Boo has teacher, and babies, and so much gossip!" He grinned wide, his giggles echoing softly around her.

Alina blinked back the sting in her eyes and smiled so gently it could melt any ghost. "And Teacher loves that Boo is here," she said. "So you must never float away for too long, alright?"

Boo puffed up proudly again, his ghostly mist swirling like a tiny halo. "Promise! Boo will always come back to Teacher!" He spun around, his giggles bright and sweet as candy, wrapping Alina’s heart in warm, ghostly light.

When Boo’s driver — a tall, quiet ghost elder with kind eyes finally floated over to collect him, Boo gave Alina his biggest grin, promising in his squeaky whisper, "Tomorrow more gossip, Teacher!" Then he vanished with a swirl of mist, the elder guiding him home through the fading dusk.

Left alone on the old bench, Alina pulled her knees up a little, hugging them to her chest as she stared at the last golden rays slipping through the trees. Her thoughts buzzed softly, looping around Boo’s small, innocent words.

Ghost babies... reborn if they die too young? she mused, her brows pinching together. But... not like humans. Humans pass away and, if you believe it, they get a new life somewhere else. But Boo... he didn’t pass on. He stayed. Stuck between life and... whatever is next.

She glanced at the old stone path where Boo’s little misty form had floated moments ago. So their race can’t just have new babies like normal? Because it takes so much energy for a spirit to even stay visible here? She let out a soft breath, shoulders drooping. Poor babies...

Her mind wandered to the bits Boo had explained in his sweet, clumsy way: how ghost elders "raised" him, how they treasured every baby because they were so rare, like precious fireflies in a world that might swallow their tiny lights at any time.

Alina’s eyes softened. So they can’t just grow new life in a mother’s belly, she reasoned quietly to herself, because a ghost’s body isn’t alive in the first place. They need energy to hold shape, to talk, to stay... here.

****

Back at the Moonfang Pack’s territory, the moon had risen high above the battered old pack house. Inside Alpha Ryker’s private chamber, the air still smelled faintly of herbs and dried blood. The strong scent of wolves drifted from every corner — thick, warm, a promise that family was near.

Alpha Ryker lay half-reclined against the tall headboard, a wide bandage crossing his chest where a deep scar was still healing. Though his sharp jawline and dark eyes still looked fearsome in the dim light, there was a rare softness there... the kind only one tiny wolf could pull from him. free we\bnove(l).com

On the rug beside his bed, little Luna was curled up on her belly, her long gray hair falling over her messy workbook. She had shifted into her human form to finish her homework.

Her tiny pink tongue peeked out as she traced each number with her chubby finger, her brows scrunched up in fierce concentration.

"Four... five..." she mumbled to herself. Every few seconds, she lifted her head, her bright eyes darting up to check on her father. When she saw his chest rise and fall, her little shoulders relaxed, and she went back to scribbling the next number.