On Monday morning, Iver arrived in the classroom more than half an hour early.
To his surprise, Professor Bard had arrived even earlier than he had.
"Our assistant has arrived."
Hearing the sound of a wheelchair rolling across the wooden floor from a distance, Professor Bard turned around and greeted Iver with a smile. "Here so early? Have you had breakfast?"
Even with Iver sitting in a wheelchair, Professor Bard was not much taller than him.
This old professor had thinning hair, a short stature, and a kind personality. Only in class did he put on a stern face. Whenever he was not teaching, he was cheerful every day, brimming with an optimism and vitality quite rare among the elderly.
"I have, Professor."
Iver said gently, "This isn't really that early... Look, quite a few people have already arrived, haven't they?"
As he spoke, he looked toward the students sitting in their seats.
There was still half an hour before class, yet nearly half the students had already taken their seats one after another.
Professor Bard merely shook his head. "They only arrived this early because you're here.
"Usually, even when there are only ten minutes left before class, hardly anyone comes. They either arrive just before the bell or simply show up late. And those who come early generally aren't here to study. They're either reading novels during class or coming here to sleep. Some even come here to do homework for other classes...
"Although I don't interfere with them, that doesn't mean I'm so old that I can't see anymore."
At this point, the old professor sighed somewhat wistfully.
But before Iver could comfort him, the old man had already adjusted his mood and said cheerfully, "But what can I do? I really am not very good at