^ relevant ^

CHAPTER WARNING: LIKE, EVEN MORE CRACK. okay, maybe a lot less crack than the previous chapter. or more. depends who's asking.

Uhm... So we might have lied again. No biggie. We were over-shooting this chapter (I say 'we'... I meant me. My sister didn't even... Uh...) and things got a little out of hand with the planning. By that we mean we've been discussing Sungyeol more than we initially intended to. Sorry. ;u; Please do enjoy this chapter though!

As much as he loves his job, it's always so exhausting to have to deal with energetic and boisterous children. Dongwoo, despite being known around the school staff as having the most stamina and the best handling on his numerous students, has his moments where he just can't keep up―like today. So when he gets back to his apartment building a quarter before six, it almost seems like he's trudging.

His two landlords are standing by his door, one hammering at the makeshift barrier they had made between Dongwoo's apartment and his neighbours', while the other one stands by with what seems to be a loaded water gun in his arms. Dongwoo, however weary, his head in sheer curiosity. "Byungman-hyung, Seugeun-hyung, what are you doing?" Dongwoo asks softly.

The two middle-aged men turn to look at Dongwoo with warm smiles on their faces, "Ah, Pinkie, you're back! How was school?" Byungman, the landlord with the bushy hair, asks Dongwoo, says while using a gentle voice like a father would to his young child. It makes Dongwoo giggle.

"Ah, it's the same as always, Byungman-hyung. It's tiring, but very satisfying," Dongwoo responds, "But what, might I ask, are you doing?"

Byungman's mouth opens and closes quickly, like a gaping fish would, perhaps racking his mind for the proper words―or for a befitting excuse. The man didn't need to speak, though, as Seugeun explains for him, Seugeun's hand firmly placed over Byungman's face, "Your rowdy neighbours were being a menace, again, and we didn't want them to disturb you when you came home. So we thought we'd just tighten up this barrier, in case they try to break it."

The aforementioned barrier was makeshift and built between Dongwoo's apartment and his neigbours' only a few months ago, sometime after the two young men moved into the complex. It was just a pair of open, wooden bookshelves standing side by side and nailed together, really, but his two landlords seem to take pride in it and its purpose.

Dongwoo still doesn't know why it was built, other than the hyungs' rushed explanation of 'Pinkie Protection', because there really isn't anything wrong with his neighbours. Dongwoo knows that the two men living next to him are teachers and musicians, but from the very brief and limited times they've interacted through the bookshelf barrier, Dongwoo saw nothing wrong with them. They didn't make that much noise, if any at all. They were also nice and very polite. He figured the hyungs were just being paranoid and protective, what with Dongwoo having lived there for so long that they've started to see him as family.

"You're tired, so you should go straight to bed," Byungman tells Dongwoo, interrupting his yawn. Dongwoo blinks, only just remembering his weary state and heavy limbs, and nods at the two men before entering his apartment rather wordlessly.

As much as he wants to take the offer of going to sleep straight away, Dongwoo knows he can't just do that. He smells of sweat, his belly growls from hunger, and he has a lot of preparing to do for the next day. Dongwoo whines to himself and slumps against the door, a reaction incited by not knowing what to do first and the sheer helplessness and stress that overwhelms him.

"Ahh. Ramyeon, a bubble bath, or my lesson plan?" The back of Dongwoo's head thumps against the wooden door, his neck arched and his eyes staring straight up at the heavily textured ceiling. The apartment suite becomes dead with silence, save for the occasional hammering and bickering coming from just outside his unit, "I can't do this." He sighs and hangs his head, a sound between a frustrated puff and a wounded whimper escaping his throat.

A piece of paper falls at his side, and when Dongwoo looks over at it, he quickly realized that it's not a mere piece of paper; it's a drawing made by one of his students, a gift given to him in celebration of his third consecutive year working for the school. He grabs at it and traces the crayon scribblings with his eyes alone, admiring the very nicely attempted image of a bouquet of flowers.

When Dongwoo looks up, gets up even, he's met with a wall covered with similar drawings and cards. Looking at the kids' drawings makes his heart swell with adoration, his mouth hurting from the smile he has on. He feels lucky to be liked by his students.

One particular card is close to Dongwoo's heart. He unpins it from the wall, taking it in hand so that he could take a look at it again. The card is full of green and pink, of cute dinosaurs and animal doodles. The back page has a drawing of a green stickman with pink hair, who Dongwoo assumes is himself, with a tiny pink boy hugging his leg. Near them are two other coloured figures; one of a boy, drawn in light blue, taller than the pink one. The other is of an adult man, drawn completely in purple, holding what seems to be a bouquet of roses in one hand and a giant cake on his other.

"Aw, it's so cute," Dongwoo coos, just thinking of how much time his student spent on making him this card. If Dongwoo had a favourite among the kids he teaches, though he swears he loves them all equally, he supposes that he has to say that it's Lee Sungjong. The boy is just so sweet and cute, Dongwoo almost wants to call him his own child. He recalls being so touched when Sungjong first gave him this card, "My students really must like me to make me all of these wonderful pieces of art."

Suddenly, he feels less stressed. It was as if looking over his students' cute drawings and kind letters helped him lift the weight on his shoulders. He's tired, but not so much as he was when he stepped foot in his home. Dongwoo feels a lot lighter, and he has his students to thank for that.

The first thing Dongwoo does when he's properly up is put his favourite card up on his fridge, right next to his weekly schedule. He stands there to admire it for a minute before he readies his meal.

“Teacher Dino?”

Dongwoo turns and looks down to see Lee Sungjong, holding a blanket in one hand and a pillow with the other. He kneels down to level with Sungjong, who continues to look at him blearily, the boy's lips quivering with a displeased pout.

“What's wrong, Sungjongie?” Dongwoo coos, hands on either side of Sungjong's arms, “It's nap time. You should be napping.”

“I woke up,” Sungjong says, almost grumpily, his hands letting go of their respective items so that he could comfortably tighten his arms against his chest, “Changhyun rolled into my sleeping mat and he won't leave, so I don't feel like napping anymore.”

Dongwoo blinks quickly and looks up to where he knew Sungjong always set up his mat. There, sprawled on the boy's pink mat, is his slumbering classmate and one of Dongwoo's students, Yoo Changhyun. The boy looks more than comfortable, taking up both his own mat and Sungjong's, his arms and legs stretched out on either side of him and his blanket thrown over his body. When Dongwoo looks back at Sungjong, the boy seems even more upset than he was just a minute ago.

“Aigoo. Poor Sungjongie,” Dongwoo coos, one hand flying up to the boy's hair, “You must still be tired. I've got a spare mat under my desk that you can use. You can set it up somewhere else and take a nap. Would you like that?”

Sungjong shakes his head violently, his simple pout turning into a full frown, “No,” he says bluntly, “I have my own mat, and my own place, and Changhyun stole them. He's a big meanie.”

“No, he's not. He just moved a little, is all,” Dongwoo explains softly, fingers combing through Sungjong's soft hair and his other hand placed over a tiny shoulder, “Don't be mad at Changhyun. He didn't mean to roll over in Sungjongie's mat. I bet he doesn't even know it.”

“Well, I'm not sleepy anymore, and it's all Changhyun's fault,” Sungjong huffs, “I'm angry now.”

“Don't be angry, Sungjongie! Being angry is bad, and it makes your face all wrinkly,” Dongwoo teases, seeing how his words worked to ease the boy—or send him off into a narcissistic panic. Nevertheless, Dongwoo chuckles and continues to pet the boy's head, “Tell you what; there's still half an hour until nap time's over. You've already had twenty minutes to sleep, so while the other kids are napping, you can do whatever it is that you want to do. Okay?”

“Anything?” Sungjong gasps, eyes twinkling.

Dongwoo giggles, “Yes, anything. As long as you don't wake up the other kids.”

“Oh!” Sungjong puts his hands on his mouth as he nods. He takes them off to lean towards Dongwoo's ear to whisper something, “Can Sungjongie show Teacher Dino a thing he learned from TV?”

“What did you learn?” Dongwoo pulls a surprised, curious look. It's exaggerated but very welcome, by the looks of things and how Sungjong looks proud and smug. “Is it a super secret and awesome thing?”

“Yup! I was watching TV with my Appa, last night, and we saw 2NE1 on a show and they had a new dance!” Sungjong almost squealed excitedly. “But then my hyung threw a fit and we had to turn the TV off. But I still learned the dance so I can show Teacher Dino.”

“Ooh! I want to see,” Dongwoo claps silently, moving back to give Sungjong the space he needs to perform. The boy often did his dances whenever he learned one, and the first person he'd show it to would always be Dongwoo. It's always exciting to see Sungjong dance so happily, and share Dongwoo's love for the dance.

The two end up trading dances for the next half