Sunny stands just outside her classroom with her roll-call book settled safely in her arms. She makes a face that has students openly laughing; she isn't as tall as more than half the male student population, even with her highest pair of heels on. She watches on as a few straggler students are still getting their bearings at their lockers, collecting their books and scrambling to get to homeroom before the first bell sounds. The others, the less frazzled ones, know that Sunny won't mark them as absent or late if she happened to see them loitering in the halls before appearing to her classroom for homeroom. Those students hurry past Sunny's room and compliment her outfit before running off to cause trouble elsewhere. As long as it wasn't trouble in her room, Sunny doesn't feel it necessary to treat them like children. She teaches eleventh grade, after all. A little independence is needed. Deep down, they're all good kids; that, she sincerely believes.

"Good morning, Sunkyu."

At the sound of her first name, Sunny turns her head. Mr. Kim is rounding the corner with a coffee in his hand, roll-call book tucked neatly beneath his arm. His classroom is across the hall, slightly askew from Sunny's with the staggered set-up of the building. He pivots on his heel when he reaches his classroom and slams the door shut behind him. Poor kids, having to deal with him so personally before eight o'clock. No amount of coffee could prepare her for that. 

Sunny isn't one to hate people or even dislike them, really. On a general basis, she's nonchalant, friendly and easy-going about most things and with nearly everyone she meets. It takes a lot to rile her up, especially to cause her to raise her voice. Thinking back, she's raised her voice perhaps twice in her three years of teaching. Mr. Kim, however, is one person that Sunny just isn't able to force herself to like. There's something about his personality, an attitude that Sunny can't quite pinpoint (cocky maybe), that irks her. That isn't to say he isn't a good teacher; he is, and there's a good amount of students who look up to him. Mr. Kim is personable with students (and just about all of the other faculty apart from Sunny).

Sunny thinks that it's the clash among teachers of the same subject that she and Mr. Kim teaches: English language. Sunny and Mr. Kim just happen to have contradicting views on how the class should be taught, though the curriculum is virtually identical for both (grammar mechanics, increased vocabulary, pronunciation techniques and the like). Sunny teaches through engaging lectures and makes jokes and animates herself for students, while Mr. Kim is strictly hands on, dishing out so many worksheets to students that it makes Sunny's head spin (and the spines on folders to break). She didn't even know that many worksheets were even made about English with enough Korean as to not completely stump students (although Mr. Kim is notorious for stressing out students to force them to succeed). Sunny isn't sure if she's ever seen that man rise from his desk during class; she thinks Mr. Kim is like a bird in a bird cage. The thought always makes Sunny giggle to herself. 

Sunny pulls herself back to reality as the first bell rings (and she fixes the sleeve on her blouse to allow her last grateful student to scurry inside). With a greeting to the class, she takes a seat at her desk to call off roll quickly, well aware that the students have other priorities in the morning. She checks off the absentees (only one today). Sunny can see Mr. Kim through the little slot of window in both doorways. Mr. Kim is pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks from his roll book to the students.

"Miss Lee!" Sunny looks up suddenly, smiling softly at two girls in from of her desk, "Miss Lee, can Subin and I go to the guidance office? We're working on getting everything set up for the field trip, and the counselor wants the final roster of students going today."

"Go on, girls. Let me write you a pass first. Mean old Mr. Kim across the hall can smell law breakers a mile away," she hands a slip to the girls after initialing the bottom, "There you go. Come back quickly. You don't need to be missing first period."

Sunny forgot about that field trip. It's still a ways away, but it skipped her mind that both her and Mr. Kim's classes would be going on a joint field trip to a rather showy orchestra show. It's no secret that Mr. Kim thinks it's a waste of a good class day, but the show did look rather promising, not to mention that students are excited to take a break from a stressful day at school. Sunny doesn't argue with being a chaperone. She is, however, particularly sour about having to be a chaperone with Mr. Kim. Mr. Kim isn't the one she wanted to waste a day with.

The bell dismissing homeroom rings not long later. Sunny takes care gathering her things, shaking her head when she hears Mr. Kim telling a girl off about the length of her skirt in accordance to the dress code. He always has to be making someone miserable, it seems. Sunny sees the girl shimmy her skirt back up her hips once she's out of Mr. Kim's line of vision. Brave girl. 

"These kids," Mr. Kim clicks his tongue, "You would think they'd never been to the school before with how their outfits look... Well, I'm off to the copy machine. Have a good day, Sunkyu."

Sunny doesn't understand Mr. Kim. He constantly has half conversations with Sunny, never giving her time to properly respond and always calling her by her first name and not even by her nickname. Sunny understands that they're coworkers (and they started working the same year with an overhaul of the English department, and this is their third year teaching), but she still thinks she deserves a little respect. Mr. Kim isn't willing to give her any.

The morning passes slowly; it's testing day for all of her periods, so Sunny has time to herself at her desk. It takes her only two periods to write up lesson plans for the next chapter and another to concoct a new idea for a project for her classes to work on. By the time lunch rolls around, Sunny's eyes burn, and she excuses herself from the teacher's room to splash cold water on her face in the ladies' room.

By the time Sunny returns, most of the teachers have cleared out. Near Sunny's Tupperware container is a little box of chocolate (no doubt handmade from her favorite bakery two blocks away) with a note that makes no sense to Sunny. It's a simple few words. Here's some chocolate for you. This wouldn't be odd to Sunny; the elderly literature teacher has always had a soft spot for Sunny, but the letter isn't from her. It's signed by Mr. Kim at the bottom. Sunny doesn't get it.

From time to time, gifts spring up from Mr. Kim that are addressed to her. Supposedly, at least. They're always obscure, cheap little things. Things that Sunny used to buy for people she liked back in high school, like chocolate or boxes of cheap candy. There was even a homemade bento box one day. Mr. Kim never alludes to leaving Sunny any of these things. She tries to hint at it every so often, but Mr. Kim never shows so much as an inkling about the happenings.

Sunny decides it's a practical joke by the students. They've long been "matchmakers" for the faculty, although dating amongst teachers is strictly prohibited by Principal Lee. Students love trying to get teachers together, Sunny has learned over the years. They wait for homecoming just to vote for their favorite faculty couple to win king and queen. It's always the teachers whom they've been shoving together. Sunny and Mr. Kim seem to be the of the joke this year around. She knew it had to happen eventually; there wasn't as many female teachers as male at the school.

It's just strange that Mr. Kim actually signed the bottom of the paper. There's no mistaking that meticulous signature at the bottom of the page: K. Kim. It's in a calligraphy-like print with over drawn K's. It's the largest thing on the page, and it never fails. Mr. Kim is proud of who he is. Anyway, a student couldn't easily forge that signature, and Sunny doesn't think Mr. Kim is gullible enough to fall for the prank, if that's what this is.

On the other hand, Sunny muses, it could really be from Mr. Kim. He could just be a bad boy, one trapped in a twenty-six year old's  body, under all that stuffy strictness. Rules set by the principal himself could mean nothing to Mr. Kim; Sunny didn't know. She never met with Mr. Kim outside the halls of the high school; Sunny heard that the other male teachers invite him when they go out drinking on the last Friday of every month, but he never shows. Sunny isn't sure why. Mr. Kim has never given a reason. He's a mystery outside of his classroom.

Sunny pops one of the chocolates into before heading back to her classroom to eat her lunch. She might as well enjoy the chocolate since it was given to her, even by a student. As she sits, Sunny glances into Mr. Kim's room across the hall. He's standing facing the window with his cellphone pressed to his ear. If Sunny stops chewing, she can hear that faint laughter of his. Mr. Kim always talks on that phone during lunch; Sunny doesn't understand why she isn't good enough to talk to.

{{{:::}}}

Sunny stands at the head of the bus as she counts her students by twos, nodding her head when she counts to twenty-seven. She observes everyone has they settle into their seats with their friends for the ride before turning to her own seat. But there's only one seat left open. Next to Mr. Kim, who is already seated closest to the window. Sunny sits down with a huff. There was supposed to be an extra seat for her to sit alone. What happened?

Mr. Kim doesn't pay much mind to her until she begins drumming her fingers against her thigh. Mr. Kim looks at Sunny's face, then to her fingers and back to her face again. 

"Can you stop that, please?"

"Stop what?"

"The tapping," Mr. Kim clarifies, "It's annoying. You're worse than the students."

"Hey, I was planning on sitting alone. I don't know what happened. There was supposed to be an extra seat," Sunny twists in her seat when she hears an uproar of commotion, eyeing a few females in the middle of the bus as they immediately hush up at her gaze, "Anyway, I'm sorry."

"You should be."

Sunny forces himself to not quirk an eyebrow, "How are your classes going this year?"

"Good."

"Me too," Sunny nods, desperately trying to start a conversation, "I've finally figured out my lesson plans. The kids are certainly a colorful bunch this year," Mr. Kim hums his agreement, "And it sounds like they're all certainly up to something back there."

"They're just rowdy because of the field trip. They'd better settle down. I'm sure my students will. Your students are hooligans."

"Hooligans?"

"That's what I said, isn't it? You've gathered a rowdy bunch this time. Are you trying to apologize for your loudness disrupting my classes with those chocolates?"

"Chocolates? You gave me chocolate."

"I didn't. You should know I don't usually eat chocolate. For next time, at least," Mr. Kim sniffs and turns his head toward the window.

Sunny is befuddled but decides to keep quiet as two students sitting in the seats behind Mr. Kim stand and begin having an animated conservation. The girls make Mr. Kim laugh when they tell him he's the captain of the ship in English. Sunny vaguely believes that's a reference to a poem. She heard around the water cooler that Mr. Kim spent a good amount of time over in America in high school and had a knack for literature.

Mr. Kim changes drastically around his students, becoming lively and talking and laughing loudly. His affection toward his students is endearing in Sunny's eyes. She wonders why Mr. Kim doesn't treat everyone like that. Mr. Kim barely regards Sunny as anything more than an annoying coworker who leads a group of "hooligans."

When the bus slows in front of the theater where the orchestra is being held, Sunny is one of the first to stand, commanding the students to stay in their seats. The bus jerks to a stop suddenly and has Sunny's falling into Mr. Kim's lap. She curses quietly (although she's close enough to the other teacher to hear) and then mutters an apology before getting back on her feet. Sunny tries to brush off the happening and clears , obviously  flustered.

"Everyone buddy up please. I have all our tickets, so I'll get off first and show you where we're sitting. Be on your best behavior while we're there. Remember, anything you do is a direct reflection on Mr. Kim and I, and I don't like being embarrassed. I'm sure Mr. Kim doesn't either, so just be good. No wandering off either. Bathroom only. No cellphones and no talking. Other people are here to enjoy this. Alright?" Sunny pauses to hear the jumbled affirmation from the students, "Alright then. Let's go. Thank the bus driver on your way out."

Sunny manages to get all the students in their seats in a decent amount of time, handing out programs to each of them as she goes down their row. Mr. Kim is seated at the end, messing with his hair. Sunny returns to the end, handing one of the last two to the other teacher. He smiles gratefully as he takes the pamphlet, and Sunny drops hrrself into the seat next to him after removing her jacket.

"Thank you, Sunkyu."

"No problem," Sunny rests her elbow on the seat in front of her, scanning the row of teenagers, "Ah, I don't think we need to worry about them. They'll be good."

"I wasn't worried about them anyway," Mr. Kim mumbles, carding through the papers in his hands.

"Have you been to this before?"

"I haven't."

"You know, Kib--"

"Mr. Kim."

"You call me by my first name. I should call you by yours," Sunny sighs to herself, rolling her eyes, "Never mind. I was just going to say that we should plan more together. We teach the same class after all. You have a different style of teaching than I do, and I'm interested to see what it is. You could look at mine. We could learn things from each other."

"Or I can teach my way, and you can teach yours," Mr. Kim tilts hows chin up as the lights in the theater dim, "You should quiet down now. You told the students not to embarrass you. Don't embarrass yourself."

Halfway through the performance, hell breaks lose when one of Sunny's more introverted students, Ahyoung, sneaks over to tell her she has a nose bleed. Sunny manages to sneak out of the auditorium area to the concession area with a better wash of lighting. The two sit down together on one of the leather couches as she helps slow the blood with a wad of toilet paper from the bathrooms down the hall. Mr. Kim suddenly appears from the double doors, asking what's wrong as he takes a seat on the other side of Ahyoung.

"Just a little nose bleed. I think we're okay now," Sunny smiles softly when Ahyoung excuses herself to purchase a bottle of water, "I have a soft spot for that girl. She's the youngest of three in her family and so shy. She reminds me a lot of myself... She always seems to have the worst luck with everything. Poor girl. I think she'll be fine now. You should go back in; I have it under control."

"Got a little worried," Mr. Kim admits, standing again, "I saw you two duck out, and I figured you were showing her where the bathrooms were, but you were gone pretty long. You're probably right though. They're a bunch of teenagers in there, but I'm sure they'll be bringing the house down if left alone for too long. You're coming back?"

"As soon as Ahyoung gets water, yeah. I'll be in. Keep an eye on everyone until I get back."

"Make sure you don't step on my feet when you're going back to your seat. I hate that," Mr. Kim turns on his heel, rubber sole of his dress shoes squeaking against the glossed floors, and marches back toward the double doors.

When Sunny finally manages to get back in the performance hall, she ends up stepping on Mr. Kim's foot. She hears a low curse but can't see his face in the dark, so she takes her seat quickly in embarrassment, sitting as far away as possible. If Mr. Kim decides to attack, it's dark, and he could easily play Sunny's murder off as a freak accident. That most certainly isn't the way she wants to go.

It takes Sunny and Mr. Kim a good bit of time to account for all the students on the bus. They come up two students short twice while counting on the bus (even Mr. Kim missed the two idiots when he decided to take over counting), only to catch sight of them ducking beneath one of the seats in the back. They thought the situation was a riot. Mr. Kim has half the mind to write them up, but Sunny talks him out of it after falling into her (still not the window) seat.

"I never thought kids could get much worse than when I was student teaching. I was wrong. Dealing with them all day really takes a lot out of me."

Mr. Kim cracks a smile smile at that, "Bad student teaching experience?"

"I wouldn't call it bad. I had this wild class, but they were good kids. It was tiresome having to deal with them for even a period a day. They thought it was amazing having a young female teacher," Sunny side-glances Mr. Kim, "What about you? Did you student teach around here?"

"I didn't," Mr. Kim shakes his head, "I'm from Daegu, so I student taught at an all-boy's school right on the outskirts of the city. I applied to work there, but our school offered me a job with better pay, and I really didn't have a reason to turn it down, so I packed up and relocated here. I go home a lot though. The train ride is a wonderful time to go over school work. I have two hours all to myself to get what I need done."

"If you gave less worksheets, you'd have less to do."

"If you gave more worksheets, your students would learn better."

Sunny narrows her eyes. Her students learn just fine. Sure, Sunny may not be the best teacher to ever exist, but she likes to think she does a good job of motivating her students and giving them a reason to want to learn. That isn't to say Mr. Kim didn't. Sunny might not necessarily agree with his teaching style, but she certainly wasn't about to put it down. It's how he runs his classroom. She doesn't say any of this though and presses her lips in a tight, thin line for the rest of the ride back to school.

{{{:::}}}

Mr. Kim's class is already seated when he walks in after returning from the copy machine. He passes his desk with a stack of packets of information, blindly reaching for his coffee. His fingertips never brush against his cup. If there's one thing that nobody messes with, it's Mr. Kim's coffee. When he looks back at the class, he can tell at least half of them are struggling to keep back their giggles.

"Very funny," Mr. Kim mumbles, grumpy, as he passes out packets to the first person in every row, "Where's my coffee?"

"Miss Lee took it!" Someone chirps merrily from the back, "She walked in and told us not to tell, but I don't want to lie to you. She has a prep period now, and she thought it'd be funny to take it while you're gone. Miss Lee said something about it being payback because of you giving too many worksheets."

Mr. Kim raises an eyebrow but turns on a dime and marches out the door. As he passes the threshold, a third of his students bust out into laughter. A strong few are still hanging on, keeping silent. That is, until they hear Mr. Kim storm into Miss Lee's classroom.

Sunny looks up at the sudden intrusion, nearly falling out of her chair when the door bangs off the wall. A student wouldn't make such an entrance. Mr. Kim strides across the door, slamming his palm down onto the desk. 

"Did you take my coffee?"

Sunny pulls her brows together in an unattractive expression, "Um... What?"

"My coffee. Do you have it? The students said you took it and said--"

"Mr. Kim! We found it. You left it inside your podium before you went to the copy machine."

Mr. Kim glares at Sunny for a moment longer before turning to head out of the room. Sunny needs to bite back a giggle when she hears the other teacher grumble profanities beneath his breath as he strides back to his classroom. The poor guy really has to learn to lighten up and take a joke once in a while. That pole shoved up his must get uncomfortable after being up there so long. He doesn't close the door behind him, and Sunny stands to pull it shut but not before observing him telling off his class for a few seconds. With another laugh, out loud this time, Sunny clicks the door shut and goes back to her work.

The students look extra aggravated as they leave the classroom when the bell rings. Sunny smiles to herself when she hears a group muttering about the extra homework. Mr. Kim is probably the only teacher who could make students miserable with something they've been studying since they enrolled in school. It wasn't always the most interesting subject, actually learning it, but it's not nearly as dry as some subjects when students begin to understand it. There should be an appreciation for it. Mr. Kim kills it. 

"Those students are driving me crazy, I swear," she hears Mr. Kim mumble, and she turns her head.

"Ah, give them a break. They're just having a little fun with you, that's all," Sunny bows her head to Ms. Jung, the ancient history (no pun intended) teacher for the tenth grade, as she passes,  "No harm done, right? They don't get to have much fun during the day."

"They shouldn't have fun. They're here to learn."

"Not to say they can't enjoy themselves."

"They already do enjoy themselves too much. They get to make a fool of the faculty every year for spirit week," Mr. Kim scoffs, arms crossing, "Don't think I haven't heard your name floating around. You'd better watch out."

"I've heard your name too."

"No, you haven't."

Sunny bites back a smirk but allows herself to snigger with newfound confidence, "Whatever you say, Kibum."

Mr. Kim is seething at Sunny's use of his given name, but Sunny brushes off his glare and turns to walk into her classroom again. Sunny thinks that Mr. Kim needs to lighten up too, just like the students. 

All work and no play makes Mr. Kim a dull boy.