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I'm having issues with the Trash Tier button here in AFF and your hard-earned money might go to someone else's profile instead of mine; thus, not allowing you to read member's only chapters. I contacted the site owner "Nicheren" about the issue and waiting for a response. Now on with the story:

I visited Tzuyu in her school during break time. Tzuyu’s hiding her intent behind our backs and that hurts us since we are family – she doesn’t trust us at all. She can tell us if she needs more blood, she can at least be honest. Why must she hide things from us?

     “This better be quick, Jeongyeon. I have a quiz to prepare—it’s after the break. Why are you here? Something happened?”

     “In fact, there is.” I replied. Her attention glued on me. “Two of your territories in Seoul got invaded by a troublesome mythic. I believe that mythic is not registered in the archives. It’s causing trouble to the humans.”

     Tzuyu crossed her arms. “What creature dares to step into my territory? And which?”

     “Creature is unknown, and the territories are Seoul Tower and the National Park.” I lied about the National Park – hiding the fact that I am suspecting her. “I want to tell you this since I know you have a strong connection in these two places.”

     Tzuyu’s expression changed, “Seoul Tower and National Park you say?” she went silent – thinking pensively while removing eye contact. “I never thought someone would ignore my warnings and marks. Trespassing can only mean they want to challenge me or they have a death wish, Jeongyeon.”

     I look into Tzuyu’s mind to find answers, but to my surprise all I saw was an empty void. She’s not thinking of anything. Her territory just got meddled with and no plan? Or maybe she doesn’t know what to do. Or… just like Dahyun, I cannot read her mind anymore.

     “I know, Tzuyu. I know. If it’s an unregistered mythic, we must catch it.” I said, assuring her. “After my lecture, I’ll go to the café. I asked Jihyo some help regarding this case. If there is an unregistered mythic on the loose, we must hunt it no matter what. Our existence is at risk here—especially yours since your kind is famous to humans.”

     “I’ll check on the tower and the park after my class, then I’ll go straight to the café. I need to take a good look myself.”

     Since I cannot read Tzuyu’s mind, I cannot grab answers from her deep consciousness. Anyhow, I will find answers soon. My speculation isn’t enough to put the blame on Tzuyu – I need proof. If Tzuyu really is the culprit, she needs to tell me and Jihyo the reason why she’s stealing blood without us knowing.

     After my talk with Tzuyu, I went back to my lecture. I’m in my music class with the freshmen and I began teaching the basics in the lecture notes given to me by their original professor.

     “Music is a connection of sounds. It is an interpretation of words left unsaid and delivered with notes. Do you believe that a nonverbal music (only instrumentals makes of it) can tell a story or tell a message?” my students agreed. “Answer me how. How can instrumentals tell us a message? Anyone?” No one raised their hands to answer.

     The door opened wide, just like what happened during my drama lecture. “Sorry I’m late!” the girl exclaimed. The students laughed, which made Sana turn red out of embarrassment.

     “Miss Minatozaki, you’re late in my class—again.” I emphasized.

     Sana bowed. “I’m really sorry, Professor Yoo. Something happened in the Dance Department.”

     “Excused. But do practice coming to class on time, especially my class.”

     Sana sat to a girl whose name is Wendy. Wendy is from an idol group under the same entertainment company with Taeyeon so I know her.

     In my drama class, Sana is rather quiet and students doesn’t talk to her that much – they don’t even mingle with her – but here in my music class tells a different story and I get to see her outgoing side. Students are not indifferent when she’s around and they get along with her. This observation makes me wonder what she did in the drama department that made her look like the antagonist.

     “Miss Minatozaki,” I called, surprising her that made her stand up. She’s busy talking with Wendy that I need to catch her attention and see if she is listening to my lecture.

     “Yes, Professor Yoo?”

     I arranged my glasses back, “Do you believe that a non-lyrical music can deliver a story or message? If yes, how?”

     Sana cleared before answering, “Yes, I believe that instrumental l music can, in fact, deliver messages and stories. How? The answer is simple, Professor Yoo. By the musician who is playing it,” I was about to ask to justify her answer when she cut me off, “—you understand the rhythm the melody; delving deep to the flow of the music. If you hear a sad melody, doesn’t mean it is sad; if you hear a jolly music, doesn’t mean it is filled with happiness. Clair De Lune by Claude Debussy for example. The melody is relaxing at the same time sad, but Debussy composed the music because he was inspired by the flowing waters of a river, where’s the sadness in that? Debussy composed Clare De Lune to signify tranquility. The music is neutral. What I’m pinpointing here is that instrumental music can tell stories by the musician itself who is portraying—showing—the picture of the music.”

     I can only stare at her.

     Sana’s face flushed red when she noticed my gaze, “Is my answer correct, Professor Yoo?” she asked.

     I smiled. “Impressive, Miss Minatozaki. Very impressive. You can have your seat.” I faced the rest of the class, “To make things clear, not all instrumentals tells a story. Those beat music you hear in clubs… that’s a different story.”

     My class continued. I have no particular plan for this class yet, I’m still planning about assembling them as an orchestra and vocals. This class is divided into three: instrumentalists, choir singers, and singers of the modern world who have no interest joining the choir.

     “Today’s special activity is connected with Miss Minatozaki’s answer to my question,” I said. I opened my laptop and projected my screen through the projector. “I want you all to listen in one of the famous classical musician’s composition. On a piece of paper, I want you to write the instrument you play (or the type of voice: alto, base, tenor, soprano), and write down on what you understand in the piece. If you are both instrumentalists and singer, just write it down. I want everyone to open their mind and tell me what the composition is all about.”

     I pressed the play button and music came out of the speakers. My students listened carefully and wrote down what they think.

     “This is Liebesleid!” Sana exclaimed, I look at her and she sulked back. I just nod and gave her a smile as a reassurance.

     Liebesleid is one of my favourite compositions. It doesn't just bring the sense of melancholy, but passions and warmth as well. It is used as a lullaby to most aspiring musicians in the world.

     They passed down their papers to me and I read them one by one.

     All of these are all about death of a partner, or something that broke them—typical common answers. Well, this is what they understand so I have no right to judge them.

     Sana passed hers and I read it. It said: “A story about losing a love one, and despite the unyielding lamentation in his/her heart, he/she still find happiness and did not let the blue take it all. It gives us a message that, after a loss, we must stand strong and be happy for your own sake. Being sad won’t get you anywhere.”

     “Minatozaki Sana, Trumpet & Soprano 2.” I read.

     After a few more lectures, I finished my class and dismissed the students. They have another class in the same room so I was the only one who fixed my things to leave the room for the next professor.

     I went out of the room and walked to the faculty room. Then, I heard a pair of feet hastily catching up to me – a student eager to tell me something.

     Black hair, white skin, sharp nose, pretty eyes, and the smell of cheese kimbap. I stopped walking. Hmm… no doubt it is  my tardy student.

     “P-Professor Yoo!” Sana shouted.

     I turned my back to face Sana, “Yes, Miss Minatozaki? Is there something you need?”

     “About your program in drama class…” she paused – hesitating to express her opinion or convey her thoughts. I decided to take a good look in her mind to make the first move – that way, she can gather the confidence to speak up.

     What’s this? I tried to read Sana’s mind once more. It’s black, no, it’s empty. I can’t see any sign of words. I only see a dark void in her mind. How is this possible? Just back then—when I tried diving in Dahyun and Tzuyu’s mind. Why is it empty? It is not possible that she is not thinking of anything; I mean, she is talking. Why can I not read her mind?

     “Professor?” Sana disturbed me, “I said, I want to join the program but the students doesn’t seem to like me joining. I guess what they said is right, that it’s unfair if an actor like me will join.”

     “You are hesitating to join?  You’re a student aren’t you?” She was about to protest hen I cut her off, “You have problems with your fellow deskmates in the department because you’re an actress, yes?”

     Sana denied the fact at first, but then she nods – not meeting my eyes, “Yes, Professor.”

     I placed my hand on her shoulder, “I’ve seen your movies last night and heard you sing—you’re good. Of course, there are some flaws—which isn’t a bad thing. You’ve been thinking about what other people thinks about you; and that is why you use that fear and pain in your act to let it all out, am I right? You also know what you lack, thus, why you want to study again despite being one of the well-known artists. You shouldn’t be afraid, Miss Minatozaki. People’s opinion does not matter. I know it is hard to understand and apply the thought but it is a general fact.” I smiled at her. “Just remember that you know what you’re doing is for the best of you. Anxious of what they think? Horrified with the bullying? Trust me, I noticed how some of those students back in my drama class looks at you. They’re envious and afraid of you.”

     Sana scoffed in disbelief. “Afraid of me? They’re not afraid of me, professor. They look down on me and they even say things that hurt me.”

     “You know, I saw how your face filled with confidence back inside. I wonder why you didn’t put up that face back in my drama class.” I said. “Sana (if you allow me to call you that), believe me when I say they are envious and afraid of you. I will tell you why: because you are excel faster than they do. Those students back there are afraid because you’re an actress—a reason for them to validate their low self-esteem, that they cannot do better unless they ruin those who are ahead of them. So, don’t mind what they think or say, just keep in mind about what you want to reach. Someday, they will learn that from you. Other than that, you can always report mistreatment to our professors and the agency. Do you want me to make a