Again a deja-vu. I’m approaching a classroom again, I’m a new student again. But this is all so sickeningly familiar, the corridors, the classrooms, some students. And that one intern … no, a teacher now, as the secretary has just informed me of my homeroom teacher. The one who actually sort of tried to hold me back. The only teacher and the only person except for Sehun who tried talking me out of going abroad.

“Hey, I know failure is hard to deal with, but running away is no solution. I think you can do better than that, Miyoung.”

Those were the last words he uttered to me. The day of the graduation where I said my goodbye to Sehun as well. When I almost started crying because I was so touched when he patted my head just like before. I ran down to meet my driver and met Luhan in the corridor then. I only shook my head and muttered something about feeling unwell before rushing past him. The last time I spoke to him outside of class before that was in the infirmary. After I officially fainted on the roof after talking to Ara, Luhan had entered the infirmary at one point. I had pretended to be asleep when he voiced his disappointment: “You know what you did on the rooftop wasn’t right, don’t you?”

I remember not making any effort to correct him and justify that I had not intended for it to escalate as it did. I remember feeling too tired and defeated for that.

Twice I have disappointed him, that weird teacher. Back then it bothered me. Now I feel so distant to my old self that the disappointment does not really reach me.

When I was abroad my thoughts would sometimes wander to him and I’d wish him to transfer to another school. Looking back, I feel like that teacher was too involved with my old self. I do not want to be confronted with a piece of my old life.

But maybe he has changed in these months. Like I have. But still, I do not want to see him.

With that in mind I knock on the door. The moment I open it and I take in my surroundings I see him standing in front of the blackboard, face turned to the class. At first I am surprised at how different he is. Not appearance-wise, his hair and statue are still pretty much the same. It’s his expression. It’s stern and tired, very tired. When he turns to me I can see his face lighten up just a little. He gives a smile and despite the exhaustion written all over his face I get the message. He’s proud that I managed to come back.

I want to scoff at that, but somehow I can’t. Not that I care what teachers think of me. Especially not this weird, arrogant, dry-witted teacher. But something in me stirs a little, and I swallow. It makes me feel like the jittery and bratty girl I’ve always been in front of him.

“Listen, class,” he begins. “This is a new student, Lee Miyoung. She’s come back from a stay abroad.”

Too tired to act like some out-going and friendly new girl, I simply bowed and waited until Luhan … no, I should call him Mr Lu if I want this to be a fresh start, to point me to a free seat.

“Tch, what a to skip the first three months of school!”

“I wanna go abroad, too!”

“She’s boooring!”

“Come on, be a little y-”

“Enough!”, Luhan’s firm voice calls out, interrupting the for me unexpected flood of shouts. Okay, I