i don't know where this metaphor is going; ‘cause there are no words you can understand, only lovers can, you can ask the professor and the madman; if they couldn't find the words, no one can;

...

 

 

Kang Seulgi eyes her class of thirty two, scanning the entire room for that one brave soul who would meet her gaze head on and answer the question she’s been asking for the past five minutes.

But no one seems to have the heart—or they’re just plain bored, judging from the yawn she catches coming from that one girl at the back, shaping into a wide O.

Seulgi surreptitiously hopes this isn’t the case. Not when everything had gone swimmingly during homeroom this morning, that even the sleepy student—Chou Tzuyu—looked like she couldn’t wait to jump start her day.

“Anyone?” Seulgi says, purposely turning her voice up until it pulls Tzuyu out of her growing drowsiness, Tzuyu’s mouth snapping shut mid-yawn. “Really, guys? No one knows how Aphrodite was born?”

“Wasn’t it like, the natural way?” A different student chimes in, and Seulgi recognizes the voice belonging to Eunbi (or SinB as she told everyone to call her; and yes, that includes Seulgi).

“It depends on what you mean by natural, SinB.”

“You know,” the girl replies. “Like when moms pop babies out of their—”

Her hands gesture wildly, pointing from her stomach and down to her—and no, just no.

“Oh my God, that’s disgusting!” Sowon, her seatmate yells, slapping the back of SinB’s head for good measure. “Do not even think about finishing that sentence.”

SinB lets out a throaty yelp as she soothes the offended spot. Kim Sojung may look thin and frail to some, but having a black belt at taekwondo also means that she packs a mean punch.

“Sowon,” Seulgi calls out. Her face is calm and looking totally innocuous, yet everyone knows not to mess with the reprimand lacing her tone. “Settle down.”

Sowon squirms in her seat, muttering a soft, “Ne, Seulgi-seonsaengnim.”

(But the elbow that hits SinB’s temple as she’s pulling her hand back is totally an accident.)

Seulgi takes a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose, though, there’s a rumble of a chuckle that echoes in her chest. Because her students may be in permanent mayhem mode all the time, but, really, they’re just a bunch of harmless softies.

And Seulgi loves them all the same.

.

 

Except, maybe, this one student who’s currently raising her hand really high up, despite her already tall form.

Seulgi spots her easily, all short hair and that signature smirk on her face that Seulgi’s admittedly a little scared of; and she’d very much like to pretend she isn’t seeing Park Sooyoung waving to get her attention.

Joy’s other hand even joins its flailing partner in the air. “Seulgi-seonsaengnim!”

Seulgi at her teeth, seriously considering whether or not to continue pretending that Joy does not exist—at this moment, at least—but her students really do hold half of her heart, even Joy and her other mayhem twin.

So she simply takes a deep breath, as if preparing herself for the onslaught of Hurricane Joy, and then finally says, “Yes, Joy? Do you know how Aphrodite was born?”

“No,” Joy answers cheekily. And really, Seulgi should have known. “But I do know that she’s coming right about…”

Seulgi frowns at the pregnant pause; first wondering what on earth could Joy possibly mean, second, trying to figure out why.

Then Joy yells now, a thumb jerking at the glass windows framing the room and separating it from the hallway.

And as Seulgi follows Joy’s hand with her gaze, all she can think of is, oh God, she’s right.

.

 

White flowy dress and gracious steps, the hems at the edge sashaying behind her, leaving a trail of enchanted eyes and charmed hearts in her wake.

Irene is a vision Seulgi didn’t think she’d ever see. But now she does, five days a week; sometimes six, when work demands a Saturday from their already meager weekends.

(And it’s honestly a miracle that Seulgi stays alive every time she catches the littlest glimpse of her, what with her heart beating wildly beneath her chest and the blood rushing in her ears.)

Baephrodite, Wendy, their resident Music teacher and Seulgi’s best friend, has coined once—which appealed to Seulgi’s literature-loving side so much that she gave it the Kang Seul Gi seal of approval—during that third faculty meeting and the first time Seulgi was caught staring at their new Science teacher, Bae Juhyun.

She’s Irene to everyone, but Seulgi has made the mistake of calling her Hyun-ah that one Saturday they did tutoring classes to seniors who already failed their first major exams, and Irene smiled a shy, beautiful smile that made Seulgi’s knees go weak, and she’s been resolved since then to make her smile like that all the time.

So she calls her Hyun when no students are around, but, yeah, Baephrodite may be the most appropriate name right at this moment.

Her hair is falling in waves today, a huge contrast from how she has tied it on a neat bun yesterday. But Seulgi doesn’t mind the change at all. She just really wants to see Irene.

(Like, maybe, all the time.)

Irene has her lesson plan and some books clutched in her arms, pressing against her chest. But she frees a hand to wave at Seulgi when their eyes meet; mouths a hi that Seulgi doesn’t—can never—miss.

The younger teacher raises her own hand, waving back. Probably pretty dumbly too because she’s feeling a little floaty now that Irene’s smiling at her and oh holy Hades, she’s biting her bottom lip.

Her eyes don’t leave Irene’s even when the other woman reaches past the classroom door, her head turning to follow Irene’s every step until she disappears from Seulgi’s sight completely.

Seulgi slumps afterwards, feeling like she’s chased some nymph in a lavender field with the way she’s held her breath the whole time.

(She might as well have, haven’t she?)

Her hip props against the edge of her desk for support, the heels of her palms pressing flat on the desk to keep herself upright.

Irene’s smile is stuck somewhere in her brain, playing on a loop, like a movie only she can see. Until she hears another student call her name—no, not just any other student, but the other half of her class’ mayhem twins.

“Seulgi-seonsaengnim.”

She’s almost afraid to ask, but she knows that her student is never going to stop if she doesn’t give any form of response, so she says, “Yes, Yerim?”

“May I please leave my seat?”

Seulgi frowns, throwing Yeri a puzzled look. “Uh, what for?”

Yeri doesn’t speak. Instead, she stands wordlessly from her seat, gliding from her row and through the aisle as she approaches her teacher.

There’s a folded paper she’s carrying in her hand. A paper boat, Seulgi finds out when Yeri gets close. An S.S. Seulrene is written on both sides of it, in Yeri’s recognizable scribble; and Christ, nothing good is going to come out of this, isn’t it? Not for Seulgi, at least.

The younger girl stoops down, placing the paper boat at Seulgi’s feet, right in front of the tip of her shiny black shoes.

Seulgi hums in confusion, her frown only deepening. “What’s this, Yeri?”

The younger girl shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “You’ve been drooling so much I thought I’d make a boat.”

Seulgi bolts upright and pushes herself off her desk. But she’s a little too stunned to speak, and the only thing she manages to say is a chiding yah.

Yet, the redness in her cheeks belies the authority she’s trying to convey, so it loses its effect entirely and has Yeri ending up with having to cup a hand over to hide a snicker.

But her shoulders shake anyway, and, really, the sound she makes is pretty much a guffaw. Joy doesn’t even resist throwing her head back, cackling.

Seulgi’s really starting to think twice about loving her students.

...

 

 

Junior Class 3D is one of Irene’s favorite classes to teach, so much so that she’s set her own personal rule to always arrive a few minutes earlier to class. She may have to hover by the door or stand near the glass windows, but she’s completely fine with it because she really does love the class.

But today, she’s a minute late, and Irene is having a really hard time believing that the perfect record she has been keeping ever since she started teaching at Kaizan High has been tarnished. Just because of some unforeseen traffic five minutes away from her school.

(She’s totally not feeling bummed because she missed Seulgi’s Homeroom period, which always comes before her lessons with Seulgi’s advisory class. By the time she got to the room, Seulgi’s already gone and Joy’s laugh and Yeri’s voice can be heard in the hallway.

Granted, she has lunch to look forward to, with Wendy and Moonbyul tagging along with Seulgi, while Yongsun, the guidance counselor and her best friend, is coming with her.

It’s just all about perfect records.)

So Irene writes creating the hypothesis on the whiteboard with a pout, her neat, cursive scrawl looking slightly less perfect today because her impeccable record has been broken.

“To reiterate,” she starts to say, then underlines the phrase twice. The pout drops before she turns around to face the class again. “A hypothesis is an educated guess. An attempt to answer the question with an explanation that can be tested.”

She caps the marker back on, smiling encouragingly at her students as she asks, “Any questions?”

Irene doesn’t really think any of it when Joy’s hand shoots up. She even welcomes her enthusiasm, and matches it with her own. “Yes, Miss Park?”

“Do you have a boyfriend, Irene-seonsaengnim?”

Round eyes go wide at the unexpected question, eyebrows slowly rising up. Irene’s mouth forms a tiny o next, lips quivering at a stutter. “M-Mwo?”

“Or maybe a girlfriend?”

“I—” Irene continues to stammer, looking flustered enough that Joy basks in it. “That is not related to the lesson at all, Sooyoung.”

“Seonsaengnim.” It’s Yeri who jumps in. “How about me? I have a hypothetical question!”

“Yes, go ahead Miss Kim,” the teacher says, tacks on a strained please that she doesn’t even care about everyone else hearing.

“Hypothetically, if Seulgi-seonsaengnim courts you, does she stand a chance?”

“Oh…” Irene swallows thickly. Though, a nervous chuckle still manages to escape from , and she has to resist fanning her suddenly warm face with her fingers. “That’s… that’s not related to the lesson, either?”

“Seonsaengnim is right!” Tzuyu says from her seat. “Besides, Bogum-seonsaengnim is the one who’s gonna court Irene-seonsaengnim.”

Yeri bristles at that, for known and unknown reasons. “Yah! No one asked you, Chou Tzuyu!”

Tzuyu opens to lob back a retort, but Irene quickly cuts her off, stopping the argument before it even escalates. Knowing Tzuyu and Yeri, they could go on for days. “Alright, that’s enough, you two.”

“Whatever,” Yeri grumbles under her breath. And, okay, maybe there’s a streak of competitiveness that snaps taut inside her because she and Tzuyu have been rivals since birth. That’s why she’s admittedly feeling a little cranky now because whatever Tzuyu has said might be fifty percent true, and she hasn’t gotten a notable answer from Irene.

(She’ll be damned if Irene picks their Math teacher in the end because she’s been rooting for Seulgi from the start.

And she’s so not going to lose three weeks’ worth of allowance if Bogum-seonsaengnim wins.

Not that, you know, their teacher’s heart is a prize and her love life is a contest. But, still—)

“Please go to your respective partners everyone,” Irene announces, pulling Yeri’s attention back to her. “And create the hypothesis based from the question you’ve come up with from yesterday’s lesson.”

She throws a good-natured glare at Yeri’s direction as she continues. “A real one, okay?”

Yeri, in turn, grins at her innocently, batting her eyelashes before traipsing her way to Hyejin’s seat.

Irene can only laugh and shake her head.

...

 

 

Homeroom the next day is a quiet affair, though Seulgi supposes that it’s due to the fact that five of her class’ teachers scheduled a major quiz on the same day, including her.

Even Joy has her nose buried in her literature book, which may or may not be making Seulgi’s heart swell (but she’s never gonna admit that to anyone).

The entire room is already blanketed in silence when she steps inside, save for the low murmurs here and there: SinB asking Sowon if she thinks Dionysus ever got drunk, Wheein whining at her best friend Hyejin about how she doesn’t think she’d ever get to leap past that one tall vault in their gym class, Tzuyu mumbling some kind of formula to herself that Seulgi vaguely recognizes as an algebraic equation.

And Seulgi’s admittedly not used to her class actually behaving, so she’s kind of feeling a little out of her element. She’s used to having to ask her students to settle down first thing in the morning, and not having to do so feels… different.

Seulgi only even has to clear once, before thirty two heads snap up and look at her expectantly.

“Uh, hi,” she says. A hand slides up and scratches at the back of her neck, suddenly feeling like she’s been into some kind of spotlight. “I see you’re all studying, but I have to distribute the waiver for next month’s field trip.”

At that, her entire class visibly perks up. SinB cuts off her own rant about how jealous she is that Dionysus probably has never had a hangover and turns to face their teacher, while Joy gives up on the pretense of actually caring about the splendid decisions Heracles had made in his life and snaps her book shut.

The others scoot forward in their seats, as if they can’t wait to get this small piece of paper in their hands.

Seulgi can’t help but smile though, sharing their enthusiasm. Frankly, she’s been looking forward to it too that there’s a bounce in her steps as she shuffles forward, planting herself right in the middle of the aisle that separates her class in two.

“I’ll need to have the waivers by the end of the week,” she instructs, and then she starts distributing the waiver in fives, handing them to the students flanking the aisles. “Failure to submit means you’re not coming with us.”

Quiet murmurs of acknowledgement fills the entire room. Seulgi waits for everyone to receive their waivers, eyes roaming around to make sure that each of her students has a copy, before moving to her second topic for the day.

Though, Seulgi isn’t able to get to the next bullet point in her notes because once Joy receives hers, she doesn’t hesitate to ask, “Is Irene-seonsaengnim coming with us, though?”

She doesn’t look at Seulgi, her eyes poring over the waiver instead. But Seulgi knows that she isn’t reading it at all.

Seulgi’s own pair narrow into thin slits as she wonders what the kid is up to now. “As far as I know, she is coming to the field trip, yes.”

Joy lifts her head up when she hears Seulgi’s answer; but, this time, she turns to face the windows to stare at the cherry blossom trees surrounding their school’s green field.

Her sigh is rather dramatic, and Seulgi now understands why Joy has been heralded president of their batch’s theater club. “She’s new to the school, Seulgi-seonsaengnim. She’d need a tour guide, don’t you think?”

“I’m pretty sure she has been to Everland at least once, Joy.”

“You don’t know that, Seulgi-seonsaengnim!” Yeri pipes in, and God, she loves her students, she really does, especially even more so when she accidentally blurted out to the entire class that Irene is the prettiest girl she’s ever met, and that she may or may not like her so much.

They’ve been nothing but supportive since then, and really, it’s how everything started.

(They’re even insisting every chance they get that Irene does like her back. But Irene is a genuinely kind person who smiles and hugs everyone she’s comfortable with, and Seulgi is anything but assuming.)

Still, she can’t be help but wish she has the hindsight to know what they’re up to, because half the time, it never ends in her favor.

Seulgi opens to reply, but there’s a knock on the door that cuts her off before she can even begin. She turns towards the sound of it creaking open, yet she freezes right in place, her feet sticking like glue on the ground.

Because behind it is indeed the prettiest girl she’s ever met.

Irene has her long black hair tied in a messy bun, and the perfect locks that escaped perfectly frames her perfect, perfect face.

Her brown, as-warm-as-a-hot-mug-of-chocolate eyes twinkle behind her round glasses as she throws Yerin a grateful smile for opening the door.

Irene saunters inside and walks to where Seulgi is, her graceful movements holding Seulgi in some kind of trance. And it only breaks when she greets the younger teacher, “Annyeong, Seulgi-ssi.”

Yet, her timid smile seems to take Seulgi into a whole new level of charmed, where Seulgi’s heart skips beats—rendered speechless, left breathless.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Byulyi-ssi asked me to relay a message to your class?”

“Seulgi-seonsaengnim!” A whispered hiss shakes her from her Irene-induced stupor. Her brain manages to grasp that it’s Hyejin, and God, she hopes she isn’t wearing a dumb, lovesick look on her face or her students are never going to let her live it down.

She startles, though, she successfully disguises it with the clearing of . Then, “Yes, of course, Irene-ssi.”

Irene mumbles a soft thank you before turning to the class to speak. Seulgi takes this moment and lets herself be lost in the visual standing in front of her: black jeans and a simple blue striped button up with its front hem tucked in.

Has she mentioned that Irene is the prettiest girl she’s ever met?

“Byulyi-seonsaengnim asked me to inform you guys that there won’t be any need to change into your gym clothes, since you will only be taking a written exam today.”

Irene gets a collective nod for an answer, thirty two heads moving up and down in different syncs. She smiles wide, then, “That would be all. I’ll see you guys again in a few!”

Seulgi manages to gather herself at the last second—right after Irene waves goodbye to her students and before she turns to thank Seulgi again—wiping the dazed smile off her face that she’s sure she’s wearing, and replacing it with a more… professional one.

“It’s nothing,” says Seulgi. “And I’m sorry Byulyi-unnie had to bother you instead of just coming here herself.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Irene answers, waves a hand in gesture because it really is. “I needed a break from grading papers anyway.”

They share a smile, Seulgi’s reaching her eyes and forming the crescents the entire school knows her for. Her nose even crinkles, accentuating her cheeks, and Irene has to bite at her lip to stop herself from darting a hand out and pinching them.

It leads to a quiet moment that Seulgi really, really likes; the kind she only ever sees in the dramas Wendy loves to make her watch, their smiles growing bigger and more meaningful as they draw closer and closer—

—until Yeri’s loud voice plows through the perfect moment, dropping a comment that honestly doesn’t surprise Seulgi at all, because, well, it’s Yeri.

“Irene-seonsaengnim! Seulgi-seonsaengnim has a message to relay to you too!”

(But her face scrunches, still, and she can only hope that the smile she’s been wearing isn’t morphing into a grimace.)

Irene, ever the jumpy one, startles at the sound. Seulgi quickly reaches out to steady her, fingers wrapping on each of Irene’s arms. “Are you okay?”

The other woman nods at Seulgi in response, despite the way her chin drops, trying to hide the embarrassed blush tinting her cheeks.

Yeri doesn’t even look the least bit apologetic as she continues to catch Irene’s attention. “Seonsaengnim! Seulgi-seonsaengnim wants to know if you can ride our field trip bus?”

“Ne,” Joy seconds. The mischief glimmering in her eyes tells Seulgi that things will not bode well for her. “But we know she’s too shy to ask. Please, Irene-seonsaengnim? For us?”

There’s another voice that joins the ruckus, “Yah, no! Irene-seonsaengnim is going with Bog—”

But whatever the thought is never gets to finish. And when Seulgi looks, she sees Yeri cupping a hand over Tzuyu’s mouth to shush her.

She has never wanted the ground to swallow her whole this much.

...

 

 

By the time lunch comes, Seulgi has gathered enough confidence to face Irene again (especially after the stunt her class has pulled.

Nevermind that Irene said yes, and that Seulgi’s genuinely happy about that. Her students really need to learn when to stop meddling.)

They’re at their usual table, with Moonbyul on her left and Irene in front of her. Yongsun is sitting right next to Moonbyul—because those two don’t know the concept of space—while Wendy is sitting beside Irene.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to ride in your bus?” Irene asks, for like, the seventeenth time.

And Seulgi assures her every single time she does, with a smile to boot. “Yes, I promise.”

“Do you still have seats left? Bogum-ssi’s class is smaller. Maybe I should—”

“No, it’s okay, really!” Seulgi cuts off so quickly, that Moonbyul snorts beside her as she takes another bite of the homemade sandwich Yongsun made for her (that she’s been lording over Seulgi’s head all morning). “My students won’t even mind if one of them has to give up their seat. They love you that much.”

“Their adviser does too—ow!”

Moonbyul’s screech echoes all over the cafeteria, turning everyone’s heads. It trickles into huffed grunts as she stoops down and presses her fingers over her throbbing toes.

It morphs into grumbles as she dusts off the mark Seulgi’s oxfords has left on the white surface of her designer shoes. But the way Yongsun fusses over her, and the redness on both Irene’s and Seulgi’s faces are totally worth those five seconds of cursing under her breath.

(And the dry cleaning fee she’s so gonna bill Seulgi with.)