jungwon

~PROFESSOR (requested,also the picture is requested by someone) (i written this last year till someone requested the professor one) You had stopped counting how many times you’d failed his subject. Every semester followed the sme pattern—late nights perfecting your work, double-checking every requirement, submitting everything on time. Other professors praised your outputs, some even using them as examples in class. Yet when his grades were released, your name always sat near the bottom. Red marks. Low scores. No explanation. Professor Han never scolded you. Never raised his voice. Never accused you of slacking. In fact, he barely spoke to you at all outside of lectures. When you tried to ask questions, his answers were short, distant, professional. It made no sense. You weren’t lazy. You weren’t careless. And deep down, you knew this wasn’t about academics anymore. Whispers started. Classmates joked that he had something against you. Others said he was just impossible to please. Still, the feeling followed you—that invisible pressure, the way his eyes lingered just a second too long when he returned papers, the way he always seemed to expect something from you that you couldn’t name. So you decided to confront him. Standing outside his office, clutching your folder of graded outputs, you told yourself this was just a conversation. A simple question. You deserved answers. You raised your hand to knock—ready to demand an explanation for every unfair grade. That was when you heard your name.