"Are those notes?" Aston asked, noticing his son flipping through what looked like handwritten pages.
Kevin gave a small nod. "Yeah. I'm terrible at history, so Mom made these for me. And the fleshcraft notes—Art helped me with those."
He paused for a moment, looking down at the papers with a soft smile. They'd spent an entire week on these—digging through dozens of books, picking out just what he needed to know for the exams. Kevin couldn't help but feel like he was troubling them too much… yet they never once complained.
"They helped with the written part," he added, glancing up at his dad, "but you helped me prepare for the practical one. So, thank you."
His voice was quiet, but full of warmth.
In his past life, there had been no one. No parents, no siblings. No one to stay up late or worry over his future. But in this life, he had all of that—and more. A family that stood beside him, through everything.
Aston reached over and ruffled Kevin's hair, his touch gentle.
