By Zephyria Ki Young-han, 23 years old. △△ Foreign Language High School graduate, completed full military service in the Air Force, 2nd-year student in the Political Science and International Relations department at Hankuk University, GPA 4.37 out of 4.5, 2 romantic relationships, no ideal type, special notes…….
“Well. Ki Young-han is good in every way, but…”
This was the fourth counseling session with a full professor during his four years of university. Ki Young-han faced the professor with a blank expression. The professor, who had repeatedly pressed him about whether he intended to go to graduate school, chose to find fault when he couldn’t get the answer he wanted.
“You lack communication.”
Old man. If you’re old, retire.
Ki Young-han cursed him inwardly without a word.
Special notes: Rude.
“How many of your university classmates do you keep in touch with?”
“Jeong Jeong-ui, Park Eun-hyun, Lee Yun-hak.”
“Ah… right. But, ah… seniors and juniors, ah… in the Political Science and International Relations department, connections with seniors and juniors are extremely important. Your classmates are good. They’ll accept Ki Young-han well.”
“…Bullshit.”
Ki Young-han muttered to himself, mouthing the words. But the professor, who had launched into a lengthy lecture as if he were some great counselor, couldn’t understand Ki Young-han’s scoffing sound or his low-quality curses.
The professor rattled off the countless talents who had graced Hankuk University’s Political Science and International Relations department, eventually ending with his own praises. This professor, whose hair was thinning, what little remained was white, who may or may not have once graced Hankuk University’s Political Science and International Relations department, but now was confined to a lonely room, with only 5 years left until his honorary retirement, clung to Ki Young-han, trying to secure his own future until the very end, but it didn’t lead to the conclusion he desired.
“Two years ago, ah… that, my student, you see. He came in as an associate professor and started teaching, and the response has been very good. That… ah.”
Ki Young-han squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck, that damned ‘ah’. He wondered if the professor couldn’t speak without his ‘ah’ refrain. Just as he resolved to storm out if the professor uttered another ‘ah’-like sound, it happened.
“It’s a class called ‘Performance Communication.’ Have you heard of it?”
The moment he made his resolution, Ki Young-han tilted the corner of his mouth upwards, seeing the professor finish his sentence smoothly without a single ‘ah’. He had already leaned his body back in his seat. Good communication. Then shouldn’t he understand the meaning of my current actions? Despite radiating an aura of ‘I don’t want to talk to you’ from his entire being, the professor had no intention of letting Ki Young-han go. Ki Young-han replied with a blank expression.
“No. I haven’t heard of it.”
“This… this is Hankuk University’s best elective course. It’s highly praised…. He studied his Master’s and Doctorate under me…. You probably know him if I mention his name. Professor Lee Han-woo.”
He had definitely never heard of it before.
Like most university students, Ki Young-han’s method for scheduling elective courses was similar. First, he’d fit in his major courses, then fill the remaining time like Tetris, choosing subjects that roughly fit his schedule and were somewhat interesting. It was the mark of a true 21st-century university student who wanted to spend as little time on campus as possible and finish classes quickly.
“Anyway, for students like Ki Young-han… who are a bit awkward in communicating with people… if they take this course… ah….”
Ki Young-han smiled broadly. He met the professor’s gaze with a clear smile.
“Professor, I have an elective class, so I’ll be leaving now.”
Then he stood up and gathered his bag, which he had placed beside him. As soon as he left the professor’s office, which reeked of an old man, he cursed under his breath.
“Fucking hell. Seriously.”
Leaving the professor’s building, he headed to the smoking area located in a corner of the building. Unlike what one would expect from a prestigious university, cigarette butts and trash were scattered about, uncleaned. He didn’t pay much attention and lit a cigarette in the corner.
He spun the wheel of his lighter, lit it, and brought it to the tip of his cigarette. Hoo, the smoke that seeped from his mouth down his throat was quickly exhaled in a long stream. His breath followed.
The weather was so cold his teeth chattered. Ki Young-han, who was always full of complaints, shoved his hands into his pockets with the cigarette in his mouth, muttering about how cold it was. He repeatedly inhaled and exhaled like a goldfish in a bowl. Just as he was thinking it was nice that no one was around, a group of students emerging from the professor’s building approached the smoking area.
“I’m so sick of Professor Park’s nagging.”
“Fuck! Do we have to pay to listen to nagging?!”
Ki Young-han agreed a hundred percent with the nameless men’s words.
“Hey, Ye-jun.”
They were chatting amongst themselves when they spoke to the man in the middle. Ki Young-han, holding his cigarette, scanned the man from head to toe. His skin tone was a little darker than the men nearby, who had a sallow, jaundiced hue. He looked like cocoa with a lot of milk added. The mole under his eye was intriguing. He held an e-cigarette in one hand.
“They only dote on Ye-jun. Is this the first or second day? Hey, just go to grad school.”
“What are you talking about?”
The man narrowed his eyes and smiled. Ki Young-han, who had been leaning against the stair railing, repeatedly exhaling and inhaling smoke, blew out a straight stream of smoke.
“Why does the professor dote on me? We’re all his students.”
Acting so nice. He thought, looking at the man whose eyes were lowered as if folded.
“……”
“……”
The man turned his head. His eyes met Ki Young-han’s. Ki Young-han, unfazed, pinched the cigarette between his index and middle fingers and removed it from his mouth. Chik- He flicked his cigarette into the ashtray piled high with ash. The man lowered and raised his eyes slightly, as if nodding hello. Then he rejoined his friends’ gaze. Ki Young-han shoved his hands into his pockets.
I should just go home.
It was the last day of the second semester. The weather was gloomy, and it was damn cold. Walking towards the parking lot, Ki Young-han turned around. The men who had been smoking together had already left. He gazed at the empty smoking area.
The impression of the man who had met his eyes moments ago was quite distinct.
‘Why does the professor dote on me? We’re all his students.’
I can’t stand that kind of person. Someone who thinks they’re something special, acting all nice.
He then resumed walking. Instead of going to his rented room, he decided to go to his parents’ house, pick on his only brother, Ki Young-hyun, and drink some beer. It was 23-year-old Ki Young-han’s only hobby.