Jun 25
KIM MU-YEOL as NA HWA-JIN in TEACH YOU A LESSON 1.07
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KIM MU-YEOL as NA HWA-JIN in TEACH YOU A LESSON 1.07
DRESS TO IMPRESS
.☆°☆•
NA HWA-JIN x TEACHER! READER
'____' refers to reader's name.
a/n: i wasn't joking when i wrote in my bio that i write whatever i think of loll. this has also made me realize how terrible i am with titles. there's not nearly enough 'x reader' fics on this man and that is so not okay. i hope you guys like reading this!!
(ps: for the people who saw my last post before i deleted it, i am better now and will be returning to my irregular schedule of writing!!)
"____,"
The voice of the new ERPB inspector called out to you, catching you off-guard. The hallways were empty. Classes were over for the day, and you'd been on your way home after working later than usual. You quickly adjusted your glasses and turned around to face the intimidatingly taller man.
He'd been lurking around the school for the past two days, specifically in your classes. He'd witnessed how you'd explain everything so gently to the students while none of them cared enough to listen, how you gave teaching your all while they seemed preoccupied with their own devices.
He'd noticed how well you'd present yourself each day, with a bright smile that sparkled up your eyes despite the students' disrespect.
.☆°☆•
DAY 1:
"Ms. ____, isn't your skirt a bit too short today? Are you trying to impress someone?"
The student laughed as he pointed out something which was in no way related to the literature you were teaching, and also completely false considering the skirt reached your knees. Hwa-Jin observed the interaction from the corner, arms crossed and eyes glaring into the back of the students' head.
"Ah, no, that's not it. I wore it because it matched my top."
You'd smile and respond politely before bringing everyone back into whatever Robert Frost you were reciting. The inspector noticed the way they all went back to doing their own thing. He didn't interrupt this time.
He listened to your lesson while also keeping track of which student stood out most when it came to disrespecting you.
.☆°☆•
DAY 2:
"Ooh, you're wearing jewelry today. I knew it, you are trying to impress someone. Is it that inspector? You've been dressing up a lot since he came here."
The same student from the previous day spoke out again. Tae-Byun was his name, Hwa-Jin had made Geun-Dae do his research the previous night. Around the school, the girls referred to him as 'Byun-Tae' instead, which meant 'Pervert'.
It was clear you weren't the sole target to his comments when such a name circulated around the entire building amongst every teacher and every student.
You took in a deep breath and got ready to sweetly dismiss his comment again, only to be cut off.
"No, it's-"
"Does that really matter right now? Are you learning literature or fashion?"
Hwa-Jin interrupted you abruptly, his eyes landing on the student who had the audacity to disrespect you a second time in his presence. He'd let the first one slide, but he was starting to get agitated too.
He couldn't explain why he felt so much more frustrated than usual when it came to you. He'd dealt with disrespectful students a million times but something about the way he spoke to you made the inspector's blood boil.
"No way, I was totally right. You're defending your girl, aren't you?"
You stared at the tense interaction between the two, silent since you knew you should just let the ERPB do their job. But you didn't want any of the students to end up injured as a result, you'd heard multiple times of the consequences other rebellious people had faced.
"So what if I am?"
Hwa-jin responded casually as he stood up straight, away from the wall where he had been leaning, and approached the student seated down on his desk.
You couldn't help the way your heart raced at the fact that he didn't deny it. No, not just that, but he played into the comment. He didn't even seem affected by it, and you made sure to act like you weren't either.
To act like the student hadn't been right on the dot when he called you out for dressing up to impress a certain inspector.
The ring of the bell broke you out of your thoughts, and Hwa-jin finally backed away from the student. He leaned back against the wall, face tilting up to look at you as the students ran out before you could even dismiss them.
You knew you couldn't control them as they hurried away, the same way you couldn't control the racing of your heart when you were alone in the classroom with the inspector.
"I'm sorry about what he said. It was totally out of line, especially when he knows about your-"
"Don't worry, I didn't mind it. It's about time I moved on like that old man said anyways."
He sighed before leaving the room as well. Your heart was beating even faster than before. He didn't mind people assuming you two were in a relationship? He was trying to move on from his dead fiance because of you?
You shook your head, trying to shake away the thoughts along with it. No, you were overthinking it. He'd started this entire project with his father-in-law as a result of the violence she'd endured that took her life. There was no way in hell a man of that sort would ever think of being with a doormat like you, let alone move on from the incident because of a teacher that was easily controlled by the students.
.☆°☆•
PRESENT TIME:
"Ah, sorry. We're not on first name basis yet."
"I don't mind!"
You replied a little too quickly, causing him to pause and stare down at you as you mentally beat yourself up over the enthusiasm.
"I mean, I think referring to each other in any other way would be too formal. We're not exactly strangers at this point, are we?"
Two days was all it took to have you over-explaining yourself like a fool to make sure he didn't get the wrong impression of you. Two days, and you were already acting like you guys were friends and he wasn't a stranger.
"We're not that close either."
He responded in that same tone he always used with every student and every teacher. You had never had more of an urge to bury yourself deep into the ground. You hoped the ground would open up and suck you within, that you could hibernate beneath the Earth's surface until the ERPB had finished their duty.
Of course, it'd only been two days. You were closer to strangers than anything else.
"You're right. Sorry, I got ahead of myself..."
You laughed awkwardly, giving him a smile so forced that it made the entire situation much worse. You let the horrifying moment of silence sit between you two before drifting your gaze back to his polished shoes.
"The next time a student speaks out like that to you, don't just stand there and take it."
His advice brought you back to reality as you turned your gaze back up to face him again, expecting him to point it out but not so randomly.
"It wasn't that big of a deal. All he said is that I'm dressing up to impress someone, I don't want to be too harsh on him over a comment."
And also because you knew the student had been completely right. You dressed up for Na Hwa-Jin the last two days. The damn inspector who was uncaring and solely here for the purpose of fulfilling his job.
"It's not one comment though, is it? And it's not only about you, think of all the other girls in this school having to deal with his comments. All the diligent students being disturbed because one couldn't shut his mouth up."
You were silent as you processed his words. He had a point. The reason he'd even earned the name of 'Byun-Tae' around campus was because he would repeatedly disturb every existing female around him. You took in a breath and acknowledged his words with a nod.
"If a teacher won't help her students, then who will? They all rely on you, ____, to be the responsible adult for them."
You let out the breath you were holding until you stopped breathing entirely. There it was, your first name again. You understood what he was saying, you processed the way he said it like he was teaching you a lesson you should've learnt from the beginning, and then you finally heard your name.
"I thought we weren't close enough for first names yet?"
"I changed my mind."
And then he walked off like he hadn't absolutely shattered your heart seconds ago by acting distant then stitched the pieces back up together by acting like that never happened.
That night, your heart decided to stop helping you. You followed the same procedure you always did whenever it decided to turn on you.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Close your eyes.
The first three steps failed entirely, so you skipped over to the last one instead of repeatedly trying again. If you closed your eyes, you wouldn't be able to see anything. Surely, you'd fall asleep naturally.
But when you did, all you could see was him dressed in all black. His perfectly done hair, those wrinkles that looked like they'd been sculpted with loving hands, and his eyes.
Oh, his eyes.
You let out a sigh as your eyes fluttered open again, realizing you were never escaping this mess you had gotten yourself into.
.☆°☆•
THE NEXT DAY:
You thought of the multiple ways you could discipline Tae-Byun today while teaching your class, noticing his absence but assuming it was a result of his habit of constantly being late. A scolding as the first warning, ruler to the hand as the second, standing in the corner of the class as the third, sent to the principal as the fou-
You could barely finish your thoughts when the door to the class was shoved open by the inspector, before he threw inside a disheveled Tae-Byun.
His pants were ripped upto his knees, exposing the rest of his legs. His collar was ripped open, exposing his collarbones. His shoes were barely on, exposing the dirty underside of his clearly unwashed socks. Aside from his appearance, bruises coated the side of his face as if he'd been slapped multiple times, the blood staining his lips matching the shade of lipstick on yours.
"He seemed really interested in your top, so I gave him a similar one. I hope you don't mind."
Hwa-Jin stated with a grin before quickly switching back to his serious look, dragging the student across the floor and to his desk.
Class resumed like normal with no interruptions, but you could feel the inspector's eyes staring at your back as you turned towards the board. It seemed you didn't even have to discipline him for now, not when he was there like some sort of bodyguard.
Once classes ended, Tae-Byun stumbled back home. He avoided his usual route to prevent coming across both you and the inspector. You stood outside your class, mumbling underneath your breath as you fiddled with the bracelet around your wrist, reciting what you'll say when you see him.
He'll be leaving today, now that his lesson had been taught. He'd made sure both you and your terrible student had each learned the value of existing in a school, and the difference in responsibility which was present between a teacher and a student.
"'Thank you, Mr. Inspecto-' Ah, that's way too much. 'I really appreciate what you did for me today, Hwa-Jin'. Geez, I don't think I should call him by his first name. We're not that close anyways."
You sighed again as you tossed your head back against the wall, the deep exhale now a part of your hourly routine whenever you thought of him. You closed your eyes, took in a deep breath, and decided to say whatever came into your mind first.
"Na Hwa-Jin, I'm really glad you were there today. Thank you for the help, and for...teaching me to be a better teacher. I appreciate your advice, I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you for opening my eyes-"
"You could always make it up to me over dinner."
You didn't even want to open your eyes when you heard his voice. You felt like banging your head into the wall until you were out of this reality where he'd heard every single word you'd uttered. 'Opening my eyes', really? You couldn't think of anything better that sounded less like you were worshipping him?
But then you processed his words, and your eyes shot open. He wanted to go to dinner with you? He was asking you out on a date?
"I'm not asking you out."
He clarified as if he could read your mind through your wide eyes. The sudden flutter you'd felt in your stomach died down, only to be brought back as quickly and confusingly.
"I'm asking you to ask me out. Your treat."
What kind of guy even was he? One second, he could be a gentleman fighting off people that dared to disrespect you. Then you take another glance, and he's asking you to pay to take him out on a date and playing difficult with you by purposefully phrasing his sentences in that way.
Oh well, you couldn't care less in this moment. It was too good of an offer to pass up.
"Does barbeque work?"
You asked with a slight smile, removing your reading glasses now that classes were no longer in session. You placed them in your purse as you began walking, knowing well that he was matching your pace beside you.
You didn't know if this would turn into something more, you weren't a fortune teller to predict the future, but you didn't want to either. You wanted to live in this moment, where the two of you were leaving behind the empty school to enjoy barbecue together.
And maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be the last time you saw each other.
Teach you a Lesson is already doing better than the webtoon. Its actually treating the victims of these bullies like people. An adding emotional weight and actual connections.
Yes you should talk to the boy who has suicide idolations. An offer as an adult to deal with these problems thank you writer team who clearly had to clean up that fucking shit show of a webtoon.
Kim Mu-yeol as Na Hwa-jin in TEACH YOU A LESSON
HANLIM GYM REFERENCEEE!!!
do i clench my fists? | na hwa-jin.
synopsis : It takes almost losing Hwa-jin to realise that you would not be able to exist without him. ( or in the final episode, where you risk your own life to try and save him in turn making him realise just how much he needs you to stay with him. )
pairing: inspector!hwa-jin x medic/doctor!fem!reader genre: angst, hurt/comfort, violence warnings: mentions of violence, knifes, blood, stabbing. maybe not accurate. (for the sake of the storyline, pls pretend Ga-yun doesn't exist/never engaged to Hwa-jin...personally, it is how i wrote this and you can probably see the changes too! no hate to her ofc i love her sm hehe)
author's note : this man single-handedly woke me up from a terrible writer's block i have had since idk very long pls i love him also again been a while since i wrote pls excuse any not great writing but i felt like contributing something to him <3 do lmk what you thought!! more of these two,,?
w.c : 4.3k | title inspo : do i clench my fists? by ridgeclub
You didn't realise how tough it was to handle a drugged adult until the situation called for it.
Let alone said adult being Han-rim.
Geun-dae was trying his best to hold her stable while you had one arm wrapped on her right to hold her too.
“Why don't we sit down?” Geun-dae suggested as he spoke quickly, trying to remain in a stable form so as to not cause more panic.
Your eyes drifted towards the school window where Hwa-jin had run towards the student. You tried your best to not panic knowing it would only cause more unnecessary stress.
As you led her both towards the stairs you reassured her it was fine.
“You're good, you got it.”
“I'm good, I'm good.”
Geun-dae and you sat down, making sure she wasn't about to fall down.
“Are you feeling dizzy?” He asked her as she shut her eyes for a brief moment.
Your heart continued to beat faster, searching her face,
“Should I go bring water?”
“No,no I'm-I’ll be okay.”
When your eyes drifted towards the window again, you let out a gasp without thinking. Because all you saw was Hwa-jin being shoved towards the window. Something was very wrong.
“Inspector Na!” Geun-dae gasped in horror.
Despite being drugged, Han-rim knew something was going down and it could possibly be the worst case scenario if not acted upon quickly.
“What are you doing?!” You held onto her as she got up quickly and almost immediately fell back down.
Breathing shakily, she looked at you and spoke,
“Go. I'll- I'll follow you once I am sobered up.” It was then you knew this was a much worse situation than you could grasp, because for one, you weren't the one who could physically fight at any given moment, instead being the doctor who treated and was giving any needed medical advice.
You nodded at her rapidly, standing up and running towards the building. You knew they were on the above floors and as someone who had been present throughout the past few weeks due to the ongoing investigation, you had a good idea of the layout of the school.
Quickly finding the stairs, you made sure to run up as quietly as you possibly could, wanting to avoid any sort of confrontation from other students who were fighting against you, knowing you might not easily have the upper hand.
As you raced upwards, you could hear voices and when you got even more closer you heard someone crying. It was a gut wrenching sound and you had to hold control yourself from screaming.
You reached the floor where they were, deciding to stand just behind the wall to assess the situation.
“‘I’ll let Seong-gu live when you finally die.” You had to cover your mouth to prevent the gasp of horror that escaped when you saw the situation.
Hwa-jin had a knife stabbed into his side while Seong-gu seemed to be held captive.
“Please know that I am very sorry.” Gyu-cheol spoke calmly which made you flinch when he shoved Hwa-jin against the wall, knife still pressed into his torso.
You couldn’t help it when your eyes teared up, knowing how he must be in pain. You knew he had possibly survived far worse, but it didn’t mean you liked it when he got hurt.
You had to think quickly. There was no time to feel pain, it wasn’t like you were stabbed yet somehow it felt all the same seeing Hwa-jin’s face so still.
You turned back, eyes clenching shut when you heard another stab and hearing Seong-gu wail in agony. You had to stop this before someone eventually died.
Rushing back to the stairs, you tried to think of something, hands running through your hair in frustration.
Think, think think.
You didn’t hear Hwa-jin get stabbed again, him bending over from the sheer force and brute of the knife going deeper. You didn’t know how all he somehow could think about was you. Hoping you hadn’t been hurt. It seemed a bit ridiculous to think that even when his life was on the verge of near death, all he could think about was how he wanted to see you again.
The lights. You knew Seong-gu was being held as the hostage which in turn prevented Hwa-jin from fighting, you had seen a fire extinguisher just on the wall you were standing at, but you knew if you went in with just that you would be visible to Gyu-cheol.
Remembering where the emergency testing light switch was, you rushed, knowing it would only turn the main lights off for a brief time to detect any issues and then turn back on when nothing was detected. Luckily, it was on the pathway between the floors, and you flipped it, sudden darkness surrounding you.
You didn’t care if you made any noise at this point, quickly grabbing the fire extinguisher with all your strength. You took a deep breath before you threw it towards the kid holding Seung-gu, and then the red lights shut off with the main lights coming back on.
You couldn’t seem to catch a breath, the adrenaline making you shake a little.
The kid yelled something between a cuss word and a scream of pain, while you moved towards Seong-gu. Your hands seemed to not stay still.
He saw you. You who were here with two boys who were ready to kill. You who kept her own life in danger…to save him.
“Oh God, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine.”
You pushed him inside the classroom, not realising the kid you’d shoved had gotten back up. You screamed in shock as he grabbed you from behind, hands tightening around the collar of your t-shirt. Your hands immediately latched onto his, digging your nails as harshly as you could.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Before you could even say a word, he shoved you against the wall behind, your head hitting hard on the wall. “Shit!” You hissed in pain as your vision blurred. It didn’t seem to satisfy the kid as he raised his hand and punched you across the face hard.
“Stupid bitch!” He hit you on the other side of your face as you bowled over, kicking you hard in the stomach and all you could feel was stomach clenching in the most abnormal way.
And for a moment there, Hwa-jin’s world stopped. Everything around him seemed to blur, maybe due to the rapid blood loss or even just from seeing one of his worst case scenarios come true. Possibly both. It felt like his whole body was suddenly shoved into unfamiliar territory.
Because despite all the years of being strong, all the years of being the best fighter he could possibly be to protect those he loved and those who could not protect themselves, at the end of the day, removing all the layers of him and underneath was just a human.
One who could simply not bear to see the sight of his beloved in pain. It made something in him tremble too. Perhaps his heart.
No. He would not let anything happen to you.
“S-sto-” You could only feel the burn on your face, rapidly spreading throughout your body as if it reacted a little later to the hit. Gosh, maybe you should have taken up those training lessons.
Before you could think much, suddenly you felt all the weight disappear as you saw him fly sideways.
You knew it was Han-rim even before you saw her. You knew your mouth was probably bleeding, the back of your head felt wet enough to assume it was too.
“Agh! You fucking bitch!” He got up with all his might and charged towards Han-rim, who you knew could handle it as she shoved him into the desk in the classroom.
It seemed your brain knew, the situation was seemingly in control now. You began sliding downwards.
“Y/N! Don’t shut your eyes!” Han-rim yelled from inside. Groaning in pain, you looked to your sides, towards him. Seeing him made your heart twist in something you were not too unfamiliar with, seeing the blood this time making you want to throw up.
“Hwa- I am fine. I-i am okay.” You breathed shakily, trying your best to keep your eyes open to see him.
You needed to stay conscious. You knew it was more for him then you too. To reassure him that you were fine. The way he would reassure you when he would come to you to get his injuries treated. You understood now how much that reassurance mattered when you were the one giving it. Even if you were in pain, eyes blurring and adrenaline slowly decreasing, you could only worry about him.
And despite everything, it was more than enough for him to fight back. Seeing you worry, trying to reassure him that you were okay even when you could barely stand up, it was enough as he grabbed Gyu-cheol’s hand and began to pull it away from him.
He looked back at you, knowing you would have been safer if you stayed down with Geun-dae while the cops came. But you didn’t. You risked your own life to come up and save him, even when you couldn’t fight. Seeing you hurt made this rage slowly build up in him. As if he had somehow made this happen. As if it was his fault you came and not simply because you loved him more than you could ever realise and could not bear to see him in any pain.
You could see something going on in his mind, the far-away look you were familiar with coming back along with some form of guilt. You shook your head with a small smile that you tried mustering, “It-it’s not your fault okay?”
Gyu-cheol seemed to be getting caught off-guard, his violent plans going sideways rapidly ever since you came. “Let go. I said let go, you fucking-”
“You like running your mouth off, Hm? Gonna let me talk now?”
The ringing in your head was now more prominent as you leaned back against the wall, breathing in gulps as you moved your hand towards the back of your head. You knew head injuries were disarming, you just didn’t expect for it to affect you so quickly. You clenched your eyes, feeling the blood as you groaned.
You could hear a bit of what was going on, Hwa-jin’s voice loud enough in the empty hallway.
“Y/n!Y/N!” You momentarily forgot Han-rim was there as she moved towards you, having the kid become unconscious, not dead. She held your head with both her hands. “Look at me!”
You grabbed her hands with both of yours. “Ta-take Seong-gu, if the bleeding persists- he could-he could get severe blood loss. I-i am okay, just a little- concussed. Hwa-jin- he- he is bleeding- I’ll need to help tha-”
Han-rim, even though as unaffected as she tried to seem, her eyes slightly teared up. Of course, you’d be more worried about everyone else than yourself. She didn’t call you a goody two-shoes for no reason.
“Go-!” You forced her to listen to you, even though she would have retorted back, she nodded at your words and followed your instructions, glancing back again as she made her way out with Seong-gu who walked with a limp and hand around her shoulder. You nodded firmly to assure her again that you were okay.
“Listen to me carefully. Everyone in this country has the right to an equal education to the extent of their abilities and through that, the right to be happy!”
You looked back at Hwa-jin as he spoke firmly, him moving forward. He had been stabbed multiple times, yet he still found the resilience to move forward.
“This is what children come to school for.”
“Now, any bastard who gets in the way of that…no matter who has to be taught a lesson.”
And you knew that whatever arrogance that was making the boy pursue all this rapidly melted away, instead being replaced by a fear. A fear that should have been there a long time ago when he chose this path without thinking about the consequences that lay ahead.
Even when Hwa-jin had his hands on the person who caused all this despair and misery, who would yet choose to go down this same path even when he was punished once for it, who would only cause more and more pain. More destruction. Who would never ever change. He could only think of finding a way to end this before any of it could ever occur.
You could tell by the shift in his body language that he was contemplating something difficult, something that could change everything in a matter of a few seconds if you did not stop him.
With all you had, you cried out, “Hwa-jin.” He paused. The hesitation already indicated how difficult he was fighting each and every scenario and thought that passed his mind as he thought about how to stop this.
And yet all you could feel was just how much compassion he still held despite it all.
It would be so easy for him to give into the hatred and end this all. His eyes shifted towards you, you who believed in the good of every single person you met. You who believed that this world, no matter how cruel, still had greatness in it and it came from within. Your gaze stayed on him as you shook your head slowly.
No.
You never spoke it but he understood it as his body did, his hold on Gyu-cheol loosening as his raised clenched fist dropped beside him, ultimately letting Gyu-cheol fall to the ground.
His voice shook slightly as he spoke, “Gyu-cheol.”
“I can’t do that. It’s okay.”
“Let’s-let’s start over then.”
“This-this is the last chance you will ever get.”
You had to go to him, you didn’t care if you would faint half-way but you had to reach him. Holding onto the wall, you began to rise up, hissing in pain as your face continued to ache. You moved towards him.
“Hwa-jin.” Your voice cracked as you held onto the wall to be more stable when your vision began to slightly blur. He seemed like he had words to say but the adrenaline that was giving him strength was also decreasing.
“Don’t- don’t move,I-” Even when his blood dripped onto the floor as he came towards you, all he could think about was your discomfort. This idiot.
His legs shook as his knees hit the ground and you pushed yourself to meet him half-way.
“No-no, listen to me. Hwa-jin-” You held his face as you moved your hand through his hair, shaking him to keep his eyes open. Momentarily, your own pain seemed to be phased away as your hands automatically moved to his wound, adding pressure to stop the bleeding.
His eyelids briefly opened as he saw your face and raised his other hand to touch your bruises on it. “You-this is all my-”
“Shut up you stupid. You’re the one who’s bleeding to death.” You didn’t even realise you had begun to cry, your attention focused on making him lean on the wall as you continued putting pressure on the wound to prevent any more blood loss.
“Seems-seems like a far fetch. Think of it as my sweat hm?” Even when he was quite literally dying, he still found it in him to tell ill timed jokes.
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed at him in disbelief, “Gosh what is-what is wrong with you!” You were blinking back your tears, him choosing to push his hand towards your face again to wipe them. “I hate it when you are in pain. I am sorry-”
“Stop with the sorry, okay? I chose to come here, I chose to join this knowing everything okay? I chose to be here with you despite it all alright? And you know why? Because I know you,Hwa-jin and you chose to be good despite everything and you annoy me so much sometimes but I lov-” Your voice choked up, your seemingly out of nowhere outburst surprising you, while the idiot managed to have a smile on his face.
“You have to stay here okay? You promised me you will always be okay, you have to keep that promise.”
The sounds of footsteps resonated loudly in the empty building, a sigh of relief escaping you as you stayed in your position, his hand slowly falling back to his side.
“Tell me- tell me what you didn’t say after all this gets over, yeah?” Your heartbeat increased rapidly, realising he picked up on what you stopped at. You didn’t hesitate because you were unsure of your own feelings but you hesitated because you feared it would be ill timed to say a confession to a dying person.
You nodded and his hands moved over yours, his eyes closing and opening for a few seconds, his gaze still holding all his stubbornness. As if a new found stubbornness to survive against all odds came up within him and perhaps it did.
“Y/N!” Han-rim yelled as she saw you two, your own exhaustion hitting you suddenly in waves as your hold weakened on Hwa-jin.
“No-no-” He felt your hands slowly weakening their hold and clenched onto them with what strength he had left.
“I- i will be okay-” Han-rim knelt beside you, another person with her, who you couldn’t make out. She moved you from Hwa-jin as she moved your arm over her shoulder. "Y/N, hold on okay? I will make sure you will be okay.”
Before you could say anything or hear what was said to you, the world darkened around you quickly and your whole body felt lighter than ever. The last thing you felt was Hwa-jin’s hold on your hands with a look of deep worry enveloping his whole face.
The first thought you had when your eyes were adjusting to the blinding bright light was that this was probably the end of your existence. But immediately another thought came when you felt the excruciating pain of the weight of your own brain in your skull.
Oh gosh I don’t care about getting hurt but I hope I never go through that pain again.
You blinked open your eyes to the surrounding, realising you were in an ambulance it seemed. And as the temporary amnesia slipped off, it all came back rushing to you.
School. Drugs. Fight. Kids. Knife. Stabs. Blood. Hwa-jin.
You shot up quickly, regretting it as quickly when the dizziness hit you so hard that you had to lay back down for a brief second.
“Shit- is he fine? Hwa-jin?”
“Ma’am, you should take it easy right now.” You ignored the medic beside you as she grabbed your arm to hold you in place.
“I am fine- just- how is he? He was bleeding–he was stabbed–” You were panicking even more as she tried to reply to you. You hated how weak you were feeling in the moment.
Before she could respond, the door that was slightly ajar opened wider. “Y/N.”
You stopped breathing for a moment when you finally saw him, wanting to already get back up.
“You should be more careful-you were just hurt a while ago.” He nodded briefly towards the medic, her understanding that she is not needed there anymore because her job is done.
“Are you fine?” Your eyes shifted towards the place he was stabbed, seeing his hand resting over it.
This action of yours made his lips twitch in fondness. Always the one worrying first.
“Yes, I got it stitched but I have to say, there’s nothing quite like the way you treat my wounds.” He had moved to sit down where the medic had sat, eyes never leaving your face as he spoke and he moved his free hand to rest on yours.
Even if it made your head hurt a little, you couldn’t stop the eye roll that came with a shake of your head, “Tha-that is so- gosh sometimes I wonder what is seriously wrong with you- I mean here you just got saved from life or death circumstances and you seriously cannot stop with the- with the”
“With what hm?”
“Flirting! You and your stupid flirt-”
The way he laughed at your expression then made your heart flutter with the softness that it always did in his presence, your whole chest feeling like there were butterflies trapped within.
“You are so-”
Before you could say more, the other door flung open and in front stood Han-rim and Geun-dae.
They paused before their eyes landed on the (very rare) genuinely smiling with that specific smile he had reserved for a certain someone with that look in his eyes Hwa-jin and a flustered you who looked equally annoyed yet happy to be there and the hand that rested on top of yours.
“Are we interrupting something-”
“Yes-”
“No-”
Hwajin and you respectively replied and you looked at him with a questioning glare as if to say this is quite possibly not the time while he smiled widely with any time with you is the perfect time.
“Riiight well we just came to check up on you but it seems you are perfectly okay.” Han-rim rapidly said as she made eye contact with Hwa-jin and understood the whole thing.
“Wait-” Before you said anything else, they closed the door but didn’t shut it fully and left.
“Wow- that was-”
“That was just normal Han-rim behaviour.” You raised a suspicious eyebrow at him as you faced him. “Mhm sure.”
“I am glad you are okay now though. You will be better.” He said it so softly, you wondered if it was the same man who could make someone fear for their life with just the way he spoke.
“I was so worried about you.”
“I know, I know. But I will be fine too.”
“No, you don’t get it because I- i thought I would lose you and I was so worried I would never see you again or even tell you how much I love you. I didn’t even say it then because it felt like I would somehow curse you with the whole ‘confession during dying’ thing you see in movies and-”
His hand that was resting on your cheek stills, the thumb that was rubbing circles on it stopped too and then you realised what you just said in that moment.
“I-” You wanted to cuss at yourself but you also knew there was no going back and frankly a part of you was relieved to say it. No matter what happens at least you can say you tried.
“Say it- say it again.”
“Huh?”
“Say-”
“I…I love you, and it’s- I have for a while, I just didn’t realise I should have said it sooner and not when you were…I-” You were going to explain, you were going to say all that has been in your mind since ages.
“You don’t even know what you do to me.” But these words made you pause.
“I didn’t know for a long time that I was capable of even loving someone. But you- you came into my life and introduced me to everything different. You always see the greatness in people and that- that sounded so absurd to me when I know just how cruel the world gets and can be but it never changed how you continued to believe in people. Believe in me.”
“I am not a perfect man but you make it feel like even with all the flaws that are there, I am capable of loving someone. Loving you. And I have to say it is- it is the most natural thing I have felt and understood. And all because of you, I love you- and honestly, it doesn’t seem like it encapsulates all I feel but-”
Before he could say anything, you had moved upwards and placed your lips on his. Eyes fluttering shut as he froze but he realised it and his own closed too. You had left his hand on your cheek, moving your own on top of it as you held it while the other moved to pull him closer. It was softer than you anticipated, Hwa-jin holding your face in the most tender way as he relished in how soft your lips felt against his own slightly rough ones. You smiled a little, thinking if it was all a dream but surely it was as real as Hwa-jin moving somehow closer into the kiss.
“I heard you’re finally awake-” The door slammed open to which you jumped away from him as if you got electrocuted, heart rapidly beating against your chest in shock and awe of everything that just transpired.
It was the Minister this time that opened the doors and you saw the look of annoyance of Hwa-jin’s face as you moved a bit further away in embarrassment. The Minister had both his eyebrows raised as if he had seen something that was very unexpected and perhaps it was.
“I think- I interrupted something I shouldn’t have-” The Minister clearly was a bit awkward but also trying to act non-chalant with the way he spoke.
“Yes-” You pinched Hwa-jin’s hand that sat on the side of your own as if to shut him up. To your own relief, he did for the moment.
“Uh-no it’s-”
“I see you are presumably well?”
You nodded at the question asked, not wanting to speak in case you said something unusual. He nodded back and said, “Very well–I– just come outside when you can.”
He closed the door as they were, and Hwa-jin looked at you and you couldn’t help but admire how good he somehow managed to look despite all that went down.
“It somehow worked out for the best didn’t it?”
He smiled at your words, the smile that you know was only reserved for you, with that look that was also only for you, as others had said,
“Yes. yes it did.”
all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.
writingmeraki Ⓒ 2026
feedback is always appreciated 💌 ! want to read more? main masterlist !
๑ inspector teacher reporting for duty ! | na hwajin.
๑ synopsis : Hwajin didn't think his biggest challenge yet might come in the form of six year old kids but luckily a new face is there to help along the way. ๑ pairing : inspector hwajin x elementary schooll!teacher reader. ๑ genre : fluff. ๑ warnings : none, maybe slightly non-canon but briefly talks about the actual episode!
๑ requested by anon !
word count : 4.1 k ✧ masterlist. ✧ gif credits.
Up until this exact moment, Hwajin was sure nothing in life could ever shake him. Or at the very least surprise him. And that he could tackle any and every type of problem thrown in his way.
But sometimes, the universe has the funniest ways of proving otherwise.
When he first understood what this next assignment was, his mind had already come up with several different ways to solve the issue.
The main problem was the mother. An adult. Someone he knew exactly how to dismantle and teach a lesson to. It wasn’t anything new. However, the approach this time would have to be done differently. Because, there was not a possible way where a direct approach as an ERPB inspector would end up in a good manner for the people who would be most affected by this, the pre-school teacher and the child.
And so after plenty of brainstorming and discussions, there came a proper plan.
Na Hwajin would be the new homeroom teacher for Class 1-3.
There is a rule, unspoken but universally understood among the Grade 1 teachers at Hyeongjung Elementary School, that you never leave your door open during free activity time.
Not because the children will escape although they will, but because sound travels. And the specific frequency of seventeen six-year-olds in collective disagreement about whose turn it is on the rhythm sticks is the kind of thing that will ring within your skull even during the late hours of the night.
You know this. You have known this for three years.
The man currently standing outside Class 1-3, staring at the closed door like it has personally wronged him, does not know this yet.
You notice him from down the hall on your way back from the copy room ; tall, bright clothes with a baby pink shirt and glasses that somehow would look comical on someone else but suit him well, carrying himself like he was used to being at full focus at all times with a straightness you realised was probably instilled. Which is a very specific energy to bring to an elementary school hallway decorated with paper sunflowers and a hand-written banner that reads HOME OF THE HEART in scribbled writing.
He hasn't gone in yet.
He's just standing there.
You slow your walk slightly. The stack of worksheets in your arms shifts. You watch him reach for the door handle, stop, and then just, read the hand-drawn nameplate next to the door. Class 1-3, Grade 1, Teacher: Choi Jiseon. He reads it twice, like it would magically change to his name.
"She's not in there," you say, eventually stopping, giving in to the curiosity.
He turns and looks at you. Taking you in with a kind of quick yet assessing look that was definitely not something a school teacher would have, "I know," he says. "I am." He notices the way you carry yourself with ease yet confidence and how the loose ends of your hair sit across your face prettily, but then he stops that thought process with a blink as he realises he might be staring for a weirdly long time.
You pause, taking in his words.
"You're the substitute," you say.
"Na Hwajin." He says it like an introduction and a statement of fact simultaneously. "ERPB."
Your eyebrows raise at this, understanding this situation was much more complicated than you thought and a small tinge of guilt arose in you but you brushed it aside for the time being.
"I know you- well your organisation atleast.” The whole school knows who he is. Probably the whole of South Korea at this rate. The ERPB's presence had come with a sudden reshuffling of everything ; the monitoring, the gentle but firm conversations with the principal, the sudden very careful atmosphere in the staff room. "Anyways, I'm Y/N. Class 1-2." You nod at the door directly across the hall. "Jiseon's my neighbor."
Something in his expression shifts, just slightly. Neighbor meaning that you know her and you've been watching what's been happening to her. It was one of those cases where you tried as a fellow teacher to support your fellow teacher as much as you could but it seemed nothing was able to help the situation. You had gotten increasingly worried day by day and honestly were likely going to contact further authorities to help your colleague. But it seemed somehow, help was already on the way.
"How is she?" you ask sincerely, knowing she was also on leave.
"Resting." he says carefully, making you understand this probably was not the right time and place to fully talk about everything.
You nod in understanding and then you look at Class 1-3's door and then back at him with a questioning look.
"Have you taught before?" you ask, a little in the tone of amusement wondering if this scary looking man was actually not at all scary.
"No." A pause followed which had a look come across his face as if he was recalculating everything.
"Worked with young children?"
"No."
"How young is the youngest person you've managed?" Now you couldn’t hold back the amusement in your tone. You didn’t know if he was purposefully ignoring that or not wanting to further address it but he looked in thought about your question.
He thinks about this genuinely, which is somehow more alarming than a quick answer would have been. "Fifteen," he says.
"Okay," you say honestly. "Good luck." And you mean it sincerely, because he definitely needs it.
You are already turning toward your own classroom when he says, without a shred of identifiable pride: "Is there anything I should know?"
You give him seven minutes.
It's not that you're monitoring him, at least you don't intend to.
It's that your classroom shares a wall with 1-3, and walls at Hyeongjung Elementary are approximately the thickness of two layers of coloring books and you can hear everything throughout the hallway to your classroom. Plus you're always extra attentive anyways, you need to be in cases of kids going suspiciously quiet to creating ruckus in a matter of few seconds.
The first two minutes are fine. Quiet, even a little too quiet, the way a classroom goes quiet when the children are observing a new thing with their curiosity as if it holds a new wonder for them.
Minute three is when a chair scrapes. Then another.
Minute four is when there is a sound that you will later understand as the calm before a storm. It's luckily not screaming and it's not crying.
But it is the specific vocal frequency of an entire class of six-year-olds expressing simultaneous opinions at full volume.
Minute five is when something hits the floor.
Probably the rhythm stick box. Definitely the rhythm stick box.
Minute six is when a brief, almost-restored quiet suddenly came and you knew it was probably because Hwajin had decided to use the old banging hands on the desk to create a sudden sound to stop the noise.
However it didn't work at all because in the next approximately ten seconds even more chaos ensued.
Minute seven is when you decide you should definitely help. So you hand your class over to the assistant teacher with a look that communicates I'll be five minutes, pick up the small laminated schedule card you keep spare on your desk, and cross the hall.
You knock once and open the door.
The scene inside Class 1-3 is not the worst you've ever seen, which is honestly a testament to something, though you're not sure what.
Hwajin is standing at the front of the class. He has the posture of a man who is currently regretting the decision that has made him land in this position.
Regret with a little bit of defeatedness.
His jaw is set. His eyes are doing that rapid-scan thing, tracking movement around the room, and there is a lot of movement to track because approximately six children are out of their seats, two are arguing over a purple crayon with the intensity of a property dispute, one has somehow gotten to the back shelf and is investigating the art supplies with the focus of a seasoned archaeologist, and a small girl in the front row is simply crying, quietly and steadily, for reasons that are entirely unclear.
He sees you come in.
Something in his face relaxes but there is still that hint of stubbornness. The way one would look when they've been holding something very heavy and someone else has just walked into the room.
"Everyone," you say, at a volume calibrated specifically for six-year-olds which is basically loud enough to land yet calm enough not to escalate. "Seats, please. Let's show Teacher Na we know how to sit nicely."
It works the way it always works, which is not perfect but mostly a wave of compliance moving across the room, children drifting back to chairs with the slightly guilt of people who know they've been caught. The girl in the front row slowly goes off into sniffles. The future archaeologist returns from the back shelf.
"Thank you," you say warmly, and then you look at Hwajin, and you murmur, low enough for only him yet your eyes stay drifting on the kids, "What were you trying to do?"
"Activity time," he says, with the clipped precision of a mission debrief which makes you almost want to laugh. "The schedule said activity time. I told them activity time. They-” a pause that contains multitudes, "-interpreted that broadly."
You look at the laminated schedule card in your hand, then at the board. He's written the time block up but nothing else which meant it had no structure, no options, no visuals and for a six-year-old, activity time with no further parameters is essentially anything goes, which is exactly what they went with.
"You have to tell them what the activity is," you say pointing out to the board,"And where they do it. And what the rules are. Specifically. In order."
He looks at you with an expression that is not quite this is absurd and not quite of course, but somewhere between them, blinking rapidly and mentally adding it somewhere, "Noted," he says.
"The crying, that's Soo-ah. She probably misses Jiseon. It's not you. Just check in with her quietly in a minute, she'll be okay."
"Right."
"And the purple crayon situation," you glance at the two boys who have reached an uneasy duel where the crayon sits on the desk between them like a prize, “There's a backup set in the third drawer. Give them one each and they'll both be satisfied."
He opens the third drawer, finds the crayons, and delivers them with the same no-nonsense energy that he is used to and probably uses for everything, which actually works perfectly, because six-year-olds don't respond to reasoning, they respond to certainty, and certainty he has in abundance.
The boy on the left looks at his crayon then looks at Hwajin and says with a grin showing a missing front tooth, "Thank you, Teacher."
Something crosses Hwa-jin's face so quickly you almost miss it but you were sure it was delight even if it was for a brief moment,
"You're welcome," he says with a small smile.
You don't think much about how his smile changed the way he looked, making him seem much more warmer. You definitely do not.
You decide to stay for twelve minutes, which is five more than you planned.
It's not that he can't manage,he can, once he knows the structure, he's genuinely strategic about it, moving around the room with the deliberate efficiency of someone who adapts fast and doesn't repeat mistakes.
Within a few minutes he's got them in a drawing activity with clear parameters and crayons along with their sketchbooks and his hands clasped behind his back, surveying the room with an expression that holds true to his nature you assume but for now he is watching a child carefully draw what appears to be a duck.
It's the duck that keeps you.
He stops next to the girl drawing it and then looks at it for a moment with slight squinted eyes. Then he crouches down which was quite a sight —this large, severe man— folding himself down to her level and asks with a very serious tone "Is that a duck?"
The girl nods, equally serious.
"It's very good," he says with the same seriousness carrying praise.
She doesn't beam the way some kids do when complimented, at least not yet. She considers his opinion first, like she's assessing whether he's someone worthy of listening to and then she says, "The wings are wrong."
"The wings look right to me."
"You don't draw ducks."
"That's true," he says. "How do you know?"
"Your hands," she says with a serious tone that has you stifling your giggle, and goes back to her paper.
He looks at his hands. Then back at the duck. Then he straightens up, and catches you watching from the doorway, and for just a moment, one corner of his mouth moves. You think if your focus wasn’t already on him, you would have missed that.
You've been here for twelve minutes and you realise you also had your own batch of kids to tend to.
"I should get back," you say quietly, from the door.
"Right." He crosses toward you, and his voice drops. "The schedule after this-"
"It will be a literacy block, which will go on for thirty minutes. There's a read-aloud book on the shelf, red spine, The Very Hungry Caterpillar which they've done before but they'll still ask for it. Ask them questions while you read. They love that.”
He's looking at you in a way that's very focused and you’re choosing not to think more of it than you should but it’s easier said than done when your traitorous heart flutters a tiny bit. "Do you do this often?" he asks. "Help the substitute."
"Jiseon is my friend," you say simply. "And you're helping her."
He holds your gaze for a moment. "Thank you," he says and he doesn’t just mean it for the help you’ve done in the past twelve minutes, that much you understand.
You go back to your class. You absolutely do not think about the way his face entirely changes when he smiles for the rest of the morning.
(You think about it for the rest of the morning.)
Lunch is held in the school cafeteria, which is the one time of day when Grade 1 teachers get to eat food that is technically for them and have conversations that are technically for adults. You're halfway through your rice when he sits down across from you.
Not next to you across because you are the only familiar face in the cafeteria that he knows. Next to you would be weird, he justifies. He has a tray. He looks at it like he's not sure how it got there nor is he sure about the contents on it.
"The duck girl," he says, without anything else because you would know already.
"Minseo."
"Yes." You say with an amused smile beginning to form on your lips.
"She told me during literacy that my reading voice is too flat."
You press your lips together to hold back your laughter, he notices this and looks at you with an unidentifiable expression, "She's not wrong." You decide to be honest about it. Besides, it would help him more to understand how to work with kids.
He looks at you, with this pure look of defeat that makes you feel a little bad for him.
"You do this-" you pitch your voice lower, perfectly level, "-when you read. The kids need the voices. The caterpillar has to sound hungry."
Something moves behind his eyes which might be genuine consideration. You cannot tell. "I lowered my voice," he says defensively, which has you shaking your head like you would at a child defending themselves.
"Hwajin-ssi." You set down your spoon. "The caterpillar ate through one apple, two pears, three plums, four strawberries, and five oranges. On Saturday alone it ate through ten different foods. That caterpillar is having a crisis and it should sound like it's having a crisis."
He is quiet for a moment, considering your suggestion, the seriousness of which you convey and the look in your eyes which was sincere too.
"The children laughed," he says finally. "During the reading. I didn't–I wasn't sure if that was appropriate."
Something in your chest does something unexpected. Because all along it seemed to him that he was not being able to manage anything correctly yet when he does manage to do the right thing the first time, he is surprised by it.
"It's the best thing," you say earnestly, "If they're laughing, they're engaged. Jiseon was always really good at the voices."
He nods, absorbing this new information and then says, "She's well-liked. The children ask about her."
"They love her." You look down at your tray. "She's a wonderful teacher. What's happening to her is– it's not fair. What that mother did." You catch yourself, glance up. "Sorry. You're investigating. I shouldn't—"
"You're not saying anything I haven't already established," he says, evenly. "And you know her. Anything you've observed is relevant."
You look at him steadily. He looks back, and there's something about the way he gazes at you so attentively, that makes it quite disarming, as if you can’t help but just want to talk about everything with him.
"I should have asked her more directly," you say and he catches the guilt in that admission, "I brought her coffee a few times. Said the usual things — it'll be okay, they can't keep this up forever. But I didn't — I didn't know how bad it was. I was going to talk to her about approaching someone with more authority but-” You pause, not understanding what to say next, partially in guilt.
"People in those situations are often very good at not showing it," he says truthfully but also not blaming you.
You look at him with understanding, "You're surprisingly easy to talk to. For someone who looks like that."
It comes out before you fully think it through, and you blink twice when you realise what you just admitted.
He raises an eyebrow, and you can see his amusement, "Like what?"
"Like you're about to conduct an interrogation.”
"I might be," he says, and there it is again — his almost-smile which was just a smile because it also made his eyes squint a little beneath the glasses. You really should not make anything more of how much you enjoy seeing it.
He comes back to your doorway at the end of the day.
The children are gone, your classroom is quiet, the aftermath of the day visible in both the classroom and yourself and you're at your desk reorganizing the next day's materials. You look up to find him leaning against the doorframe with his jacket back on and there's something about the tiredness that comes after a long day which is visible now that makes him look unexpectedly human.
"Survived the first day?" you ask with a smile. He finds his own one forming at the sight of it.
"Minseo told me my duck drawing is worse than hers," he says. "She's not wrong."
"That is a very high bar there, Minseo is legitimately talented."
"She made me practice." He looks like he's still processing this as he shakes his head recalling the conversation, "She gave me her spare paper."
The image of Na Hwajin, ERPB inspector, former soldier, sitting at a table of six-year-olds practicing duck drawings at the instruction of a small girl, is something you will carry with you for a long time and it only makes the smile on your face widen at the thought of it.
"She likes you already," you say. "Minseo is very selective."
He's quiet for a moment. Look at his hands again, like he realised that there was gentleness hidden in them that he didn’t even know existed until now. Then after taking some thoughts, he decides to ask you the question, "If you haven't eaten dinner—"
"I haven't," you say before he finishes hoping it doesn’t come off too enthusiastically, but you’d be wrong if you said it didn’t make you want to squeal slightly.
"The teachers' room," you continue. "We have a spot for marking and I always bring too much food. It's technically not dinner but it's something."
"I have a report to write," he says as he nods at your suggestion.
"You can write it there and I'll be marking. We can be productive and also not sit alone, which is — I think we've both earned that today." You acknowledge as you carry your worksheets to which he steps forward and takes in his hands before you can even say anything else.
"Where's the teachers' room?"
You sit across from each other at the low table by the window, and you share the contents of your lunch bag, a tangerine, crackers, the last of the lemon tea from your thermos,with the ease of people who are slowly becoming comfortable in each other’s presence.
He writes his report and continues to mark and occasionally laugh at the answers your kids have written to which he unknowingly smiles at. He doesn’t think he has smiled this much in one day. Hanrim would be proud. Outside, the school empties slowly, the sound of the last children leaving like a tide going out.
At some point he says, without looking up from his tablet: "The caterpillar does need more voice."
"I know."
"I'll try it tomorrow."
You press your mouth flat against a smile. "The kids will let you know how you did."
He makes a low sound, that is a laugh but it is probably how he laughs as someone not used to it frequently and it makes your stomach churn in a much nicer way than you’ve ever felt.
"The schedule tomorrow," he says, wanting to be informed beforehand, "After morning activity—"
"Math. Counting to twenty with the blocks. They work in pairs and they'll always try to do it before you teach them. So let them."
He types something. You watch him for a moment, focusing of how he does everything, and think about the way he crouched next to Minseo's duck, and the way he'd sat across from you at lunch like he'd decided and that was that, and the way he said thank you earlier like it was about more than twelve minutes in a chaotic classroom.
"Can I ask you something?" you say.
"Yes."
"Why did you agree to do this? The substitute. You're ERPB — surely there are—"
"I was asked to and I- I felt I’d fit more to handle the situation too," he says and pauses before he continues, "And someone needed to."
That might not be the full answer but whatever it was, it was an honest one and you accepted that.
From the outside, the last of the afternoon light shines through the old through the staff room window, giving a warmer tone to the room.
Your phone buzzes. You glance at it: Jiseon's number. A short message.
heard there's a substitute. is he terrifying them???
You smile down at your phone, while typing back, he's doing better than expected. the kids like him.
A pause follows before she types back, really??
You look up. Hwajin is reading his report, brow slightly furrowed, the focus of a man who does everything with full attention. On his wrist, half hidden by his sleeve, there is, you notice now, what is unmistakably the faint outline of a child's sticker, a small golden star.
Minseo, definitely.
He hasn't taken it off.
really. you type back.
He walks out to the carpark at the same time you do, which is probably not a coincidence.
"The count-to-twenty blocks," he says, at the top of the steps, remembering how he doesn’t know where most of the stuff is "Are they in the cabinet or on the shelf?"
"Cabinet. Left side. There's also a set of number cards in the folder on top if the blocks aren't enough."
He nods, mentally noting it.
You reach the bottom of the steps. His car is, predictably, clean and black and parked with geometric precision. Yours is across the lot.
"Tomorrow?" he says.
"Tomorrow." you agree.
You walk toward your car. You don't look back, specifically because if you look back you'll do something embarrassing. You hear, just barely, the sound of his car door opening.
And then,"Y/N-ssi."
You turn.
He's standing by his door, jacket on, the gold star sticker still on his wrist, looking across the carpark at you with an expression you haven't seen on him yet which is less certain than usual.
"Thank you," he says, finally with that smile you have concluded you really like, "For today."
"Come back tomorrow," you say with a smile that does something to his chest, "Minseo is saving you a duck template."
He looks at you. Something settles in his expression, something that is both delight and patient and you think, maybe the beginning of a lot of things.
"I'll be here," he says.
๑ whimsy's note : ahh!! so sorry this took longer than expected 🥹 i was trying to make it as real as possible and had to do a bit of dive into what they teach kids in grade 1 💔💔 but this was genuinely so so so fun to write!! do let me know what your thoughts on this are and i hope you liked this anon who requested <3!