The Perfect Bubble
Ian rummaged through the cleaning supply closet and gathered two large wooden buckets, a floor mop, and several hand rags. Fully equipped, he headed straight for the boys' restroom.
Fortunately, the academy lived up to its status as one of the city's core facilities; its water system was excellent. Instead of the cumbersome button-activated magic sinks he'd seen at the inn, familiar and welcome faucets stood proudly in place. Watching the water gush out in a steady stream, Ian let out a sigh of relief and filled both buckets to the brim before returning to the first classroom.
He took a short deep breath and activated his skill.
Skill Activated
Effect:Creates bubbles with extreme detoxification and purification properties.
“Perfect Bubble, activate!”
With a slightly tense expression, Ian carefully pushed the fluffy cluster of bubbles floating in the air into the bucket.
Please… it’s clean water. So just mix with the water and don’t sparkle and evaporate.
If the bubbles purified the water inside the bucket even further and then vanished, he would have to drain every last drop of his mana to clean all five classrooms. He had roughly 110 mana remaining. Since each skill use consumed 10 mana, even in the best-case scenario he could only handle about half the work with the skill; the rest would require pure manual labor. For a 15-gold request, the efficiency was brutally poor.
Ian’s eyes anxiously followed the bubbles inside the basin. Then, moments later, a victorious smile spread across his lips.
Yes! They’re not disappearing!
Instead of dissipating, the bubbles blended perfectly with the water and produced pure white particles. Soon the entire bucket began to sparkle with a soft blue glow. It was the birth of Ian’s very own “magic soap.”
“Haha, this is incredible.”
In high spirits, Ian scooped some of the bubbly water with his hand and applied it to a dingy-looking rag. The bubbles instantly seeped between the fibers and, within seconds, sparkled and vanished. The rag that emerged was dazzlingly white, as if it had just been bought from a store.
Preparations complete. Ian loaded the pristine white rag with another generous helping of the soapy bubbles and began scrubbing the wall near the windows in earnest.
From that moment on, an astonishing and delightful scene unfolded. Everywhere the rag swept, the pearl-like wall surface revealed its true beauty. Stubborn graffiti and caked-on dirt vanished like a lie. The sensation was like using an eraser tool in a graphics program to wipe away stains.
“Whoa. This is actually really fun and totally my thing?”
Humming a little tune, Ian kept scrubbing the wall until the bubbles on the rag ran out. By the time the soapy water had decreased by about a quarter, the once-filthy window-side wall had completely regained its original elegant luster.
It might not have been quite as pristine as the inn room he had transformed by firing the skill directly into it, but this was more than enough to earn a thumbs-up from anyone. A perfect passing grade.
Ian polished the window glass until it squeaked, then meticulously cleared the dust from the window frames. He pushed the freshly cleaned desks to one side and used the floor mop to erase every stain on the wooden floor. With every touch, a clean classroom began to emerge from what had once been complete chaos.
“Wow…”
Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, yet he didn’t feel tired at all. Instead, a deep sense of satisfaction welled up from within his chest. The classroom, lined with neatly arranged light-brown desks, seemed to glow with a luxurious milky sheen. The pure white floor sparkled softly under sunlight streaming through the spotless windows, and the walls and blackboard were impossibly white and clear.
It was as if the classroom itself had been reborn. Even though he had used up all the bubbly water in the wooden buckets, the result was worth every drop.
Ian mixed Perfect Bubble into the second bucket as well and started cleaning the second classroom. Having gotten the hang of the mopping technique, he worked much faster than before. He thoroughly wiped down the tall locker doors and scrubbed the tops of the low bookshelves until they shone.
He had just finished the third classroom when a female teacher came to check on his progress. The moment she saw the classroom’s condition, her eyes widened and she literally jumped in place.
“Oh my goodness! Heavens!”
“Haha… it’s really clean, right?”
“Clean? This is… this is truly artistic!”
She appeared to be an art teacher, because she kept repeating the word “artistic” over and over.
“How on earth did you manage this?”
She crossed the room and examined the wall that had been left with stubborn black stains no ordinary detergent could remove.
“This stain… no one has ever been able to get it out!”
“Haha, is that so?”
“You must have a cleaning-related skill. I’m sorry for doubting you earlier.”
“It’s quite all right.”
The displeased expression she had worn when they first met was gone. She smiled brightly.
“Please wait just a moment. Have something to eat before you continue. I happen to have some high-quality butter cookies.”
“Oh, that’s really not necessary…”
“Nonsense. I’ll bring you a drink too, so please have some and rest a bit.”
She practically skipped away and soon returned, offering Ian a neatly arranged tray of snacks. He filled his empty stomach with sweet cookies and a tangy strawberry drink, then headed to the fourth classroom.
Luckily, this seemed to be a room used by ten-year-old children. Its condition was far better than the previous disastrous classrooms. Ian filled the bucket with water again, created more bubbly solution, and began mopping with practiced ease. After polishing the fourth classroom until it gleamed and while diligently cleaning the fifth, he suddenly heard a soft sob.
Huh…? What was that sound?
He stopped moving and listened carefully. But no sound came. Only the chirping of birds outside the window.
Did I imagine it?
Tilting his head, Ian resumed his work. He was vigorously scrubbing the desks with the bubbly rag when—
Gasp! I didn’t imagine it!
He slowed his desk-cleaning pace and once again tried to pinpoint the source of the sound.
“…!”
This time he located it with absolute precision. The sound was leaking from one of the long wooden lockers lined up at the back of the classroom.
What is this? Is a child trapped inside?
He tossed the rag aside and hurried over to the lockers. With careful steps, he began pressing his ear against each one in turn. He worried that suddenly opening a door might startle the child inside.
When he reached the eighth locker, the unusually loud crying confirmed his suspicion.
This is it!
Ian cleared his throat with a small cough. Then, using the kindest and gentlest voice he could manage, he asked,
“Hey… who’s in there? Are you trapped inside?”
“……”
The child’s sobbing stopped abruptly. Not even the sound of breathing could be heard now. After a brief hesitation, Ian carefully opened the locker door.
Click.
Fortunately, it wasn’t locked. Inside the narrow space, a small boy was curled up pitifully, hugging his knees and trembling. Ian slowly lowered himself to the boy’s eye level, careful not to seem threatening.
A child huddled tightly inside a narrow, dark locker, shaking all over. Yet Ian didn’t show any great surprise or alarm at the pitiful sight. He had seen children hiding in corners like this countless times during his days at the orphanage.
There was only one reason a child would crawl into such a small darkness, hold their breath, and cry: because the outside world—or the person standing outside—was far more terrifying than the claustrophobic fear inside the locker. Deep wounds inflicted by others and uncontrollable terror had driven the child into this cramped box.
And the one who had planted that terror was usually an adult who should have been protecting them. Some children had been abused by their parents and ended up in the orphanage. Others had lost warm, loving parents only to be taken in by relatives or strangers who subjected them to subtle abuse before they, too, were handed over to the orphanage. Gazing at the boy’s deeply bowed head of rich golden hair, Ian thought with a bitter heart,
Unfortunately… it seems the adults’ gazes were scarier than the darkness inside the locker.
Even inside this grand and splendid Lumina Elementary Academy, the fact that this old wooden locker was someone’s only sanctuary weighed heavily on a corner of Ian’s heart. Instead of reaching out hastily, he decided to simply stay where he was and wait until the child lifted his head on his own.
He knew better than anyone that what this boy needed right now wasn’t hasty pity, but simply the warmth of someone staying by his side.
How much time passed in the silent classroom?
His patience was not in vain. The small child slowly raised the face he had buried between his knees. The moment the tear-streaked face appeared in the dim light, Ian desperately fought to keep his facial muscles from freezing in shock.
From the left side of the boy’s forehead down to the bridge of his nose, a deep, rough burn scar marred the otherwise delicately cute features framed by rich golden hair. It looked less like the mark of an accident and more like a cruel brand. Still, Ian instinctively maintained a calm expression. He forced his eyes, which threatened to tremble, to stay steady. The most dangerous thing in front of children like this was a gaze of pity or an expression of horror. The instant they realized their wounds caused others fear or disgust, they would slam the door to their hearts even tighter.
Ian simply looked at the boy with the calm, warm eyes of someone who had always been there. Fortunately, his sincere effort seemed to have lowered the child’s guard just a little.
The boy parted his quivering lips and whispered in a tiny voice.
“Big brother… sniff… who are you?”
It was a fragile question that sounded as if it might shatter at any moment. But it was also the boy’s slender request for help, extended out from inside the locker. Only then did Ian feel relief. He smiled at the child—very slowly, very gently.