After a time, I bid Kai farewell and entered my class.
We were in different departments. He studied Music Composition, always buried in chords, lyrics, and late-night recording sessions. I, on the other hand, belonged to the Department of Psychology, which was a field I had chosen mostly out of curiosity rather than passion.
Realistically speaking, there weren't a lot of jobs that guaranteed stability after graduation. Psychology was broad, perhaps too broad. You could become a counselor, a researcher, or an HR specialist if you were lucky enough to land the right connections. But for someone like me, who wasn't exactly passionate about any of it, it just felt like walking down an empty corridor with no doors.
Maybe I should have chosen a different career path or more accurately, something that actually paid well, like my father had advised. But it was far too late for regrets. Still, it wasn't like I had a better plan to begin with.
At least Kai had chosen something he genuinely loved. Music suited him. He had both the talent and the drive for it. That was another reason I couldn't help but feel a bit envious. But envy wouldn't change anything, would it?
If only I had time-manipulating powers. I would've gladly turned back the clock and given life another shot.
With that useless thought in mind, I sighed, already feeling tired even though the day had barely begun.
The moment I stepped into the classroom, dozens of familiar faces turned toward me. A wave of murmurs followed immediately. Some students looked startled, others whispered behind their hands as if I couldn't hear them.
I could feel the weight of their stares pressing against my back.
"...You're kidding. He actually came back?"
"I thought he dropped out."
"Didn't something happen to his dad…?"
Their words buzzed faintly in the air like persistent insects. I ignored them and quietly made my way toward an empty seat near the back of the room, trying to pretend I didn't hear a thing.
But these guys weren't considerate at all. Seriously, did they have nothing better to do than gossip?
And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, the last person I wanted to see walked into the lecture hall.
She was a youthful olive woman in her early thirties with a stacked A-Line bob hairstyle that framed her face neatly, a dramatically pear-shaped physique, and skin the color of light peach. As a professor, she was dressed in a white blouse tucked into a fitted black skirt, complemented by a pair of thin-rimmed glasses that made her look both elegant and intimidating.
Her name was Professor Olga, the current deputy dean of their department.
Normally, someone her age wouldn't be deputy dean. Most climbed the ladder over decades. Olga, however, had earned her position on merit and reputation. Rumor had it she'd published papers before many peers had defended dissertations and was being groomed to become full dean sooner rather than later.
Students, of course, didn't care about her résumé or accomplishments. To them, she was just a figure of authority and to a few, admittedly, an object of desire. It was understandable, in a way. Physically, she rivaled or perhaps even surpassed Ms. Victoria in terms of curves. Whether she was married or not was anyone's guess, though rumors swirled either way.
Honestly, who would look at her and think, "She's wife material"? Probably a hopeless degenerate, if you asked me.
Professor Olga swept her gaze across the lecture hall, and eventually, it landed on me. A flicker of surprise crossed her face, quickly replaced by a slight arch of her eyebrow that somehow marred her otherwise beautiful features.
"Ryuji Kim. I see you've decided to join us again. I was under the impression you planned to repeat the year," Professor Olga said evenly, though her voice carried no trace of warmth.
I managed a polite smile.
"...Yes, ma'am. Sorry for the long absence."
Her expression didn't change.
"Since you've decided to show up, I trust you'll be able to catch up on what you missed."
"I'll do my best."
"Ah, before I forget, see me in my office after class. Understood?"
My body trembled.
"Y-Yes, ma'am."
She held my gaze for a moment longer before finally turning to address the class.
"All right, everyone. Let's continue from where we left off. Open your notebooks to page fifty-seven."
As the lecture resumed, I stared down at the blank page before me. My pen hovered above it, unmovingly.
What a way to start the day, I thought wryly, a faint smile tugging at my lips.
It looked like it was going to be a long day.
† †
Moments later, I found myself sitting inside Professor Olga's personal office. The room itself wasn't large but neatly organized. Dark oak shelves framed neatly arranged books, files, and documents. A faint scent of coffee and lavender lingered in the air, pleasant but heavy enough to make the atmosphere tense.
The blinds were half-drawn, allowing slivers of afternoon light to filter through, striping across the carpet and the polished surface of her desk. It wasn't cluttered, but it wasn't empty either, just a few folders, a pen stand, a laptop, and a framed photograph turned slightly away from where I sat.
Professor Olga sat across from me, her hands resting atop a folder. She hadn't said a word since I entered. The rhythmic tapping of her pen against the desk was the only sound that filled the silence. It was stressful, to say the least.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, resisting the urge to clear my throat.
Finally, she looked up. Her eyes, sharp and discerning behind the glasses, fixed squarely on mine. Then she said:
"Ryuji Kim. You were absent for nearly three months. There was no formal withdrawal, nor was there any communication with the department, and now, suddenly, you're back as if nothing happened. Would you like to explain yourself?"
My throat tightened.
Of course, she'd get straight to the point. That was just the kind of person she was. There was no need for unnecessary pleasantries.
"I... had some personal matters to deal with. It's... family related."
"I'm well aware of what happened with your father," she said quietly as though mentioning something that troubled her greatly. Then her tone changed back to its original seriousness. "But that doesn't justify disappearing without notice. You should've informed someone or your advisor, at the very least."
I lowered my eyes.
"You're right. I should have. I just… wasn't in the right state of mind."
A short silence followed. Then she sighed and set the pen down.
"To tell you the truth, I actually knew your father."
I blinked.
"Wait… you did?"
Olga nodded.
"I went to university with him. We were… close friends. He was brilliant, determined, and had this… mysterious aura about him."
"Oh. I see. He must have been really amazing."
"Hardly."
"…Eh?"
Her gaze narrowed into slits.
"Back then, he was arrogant and insufferable. Smarter than anyone else in the room, yes, but he looked down on others and rarely put that big head of his to good use."
"Ah."
"Don't look at me with such a bewildered expression."
"How would I not be bewildered? You just… described him as insufferable, yet everyone always spoke of him like he was some kind of genius."
Olga leaned back in her chair, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. A faint smirk formed on the corners of her lips.
"Genius and insufferable are not mutually exclusive, Ryuji. He had brilliance, yes, but it came wrapped in arrogance. He expected the world to keep up with him, and most people, frankly, didn't. That included me, at times. Additionally, he was... Ugh. Nevermind," she wanted to add something but suddenly trailed off as if deciding it was better to be unsaid.
I smiled wryly. There was no way I didn't know about that "side" of my father.
"I… didn't know him like that. I only knew… what I saw through my father as he was to me."
Her gaze softened slightly, though her posture remained strict.
"Of course. You were a child. I don't expect you to understand all of it. But the point is… you've inherited a part of him. Not his arrogance, though perhaps a little, but his potential. Wouldn't it be a waste to ignore it? That said, you can't always be the protagonist. Truthfully, such a thing doesn't exist. With or without you, the world moves forward. People come and go, some brighter, some more beautiful, some… less remarkable. No one is born equal, but in the end, everyone dies the same. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"I understand, ma'am. I… I'll do my best."
She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the desk,.
"Good. I've said everything that needs to be said. The rest is up to you. You're free to go."
"Thank you… for your guidance."
"Also, make sure to give my condolences to Ms Victoria," added Professor Olga with a sympathetic voice.
"That I will."
I bowed respectively before turning toward the door.