Chapter 98: Poetry composition class (4)

Part 9

“Wow… you’re a better student than I thought…?” Hyunji said.

“Didn’t I mention I’m aiming for a master’s?” I replied.

Not a national university in the capital, but a decently recognized one. Memories of high school flashed through my mind—striving to match my overachieving brother, even if I fell short. I answered Hyunji’s awed comment with a voice that tried, and failed, to sound nonchalant. Thankfully, her admiration seemed genuine, her gaze fixed on the quiet campus gate, not turning to me.

“Whoa… do all students at schools like this seem as refined and intellectual as you, Yoonseo-ssi?” she asked.

“Am I that kind of image?” I said.

“You just seem… smart, you know!” she replied.

The campus parking was a hassle, so Minho was circling nearby lots. I’d suggested Hyunji stay with him since it might take a while, but she insisted on coming with me, likely driven by a subtle longing in her eyes. Her starry-eyed reaction felt a bit embarrassing, but her response was more self-directed than aimed at me, reminding me of when she first saw me in cosplay.

“There’s a student lounge on the first floor of the humanities building,” I said.

“Got it!” she chirped.

Hyunji would probably cheer at anything I said right now. Her sparkling face, practically glowing, made me chuckle as I thought, She’s so enthusiastic.

“The campus is on a hillside, so it’s a bit of a walk. Wanna take it slow to avoid sweating and check out what’s changed?” I offered.

“Sounds perfect!” she exclaimed.

Pretty, cheerful, young, with a solid job—Hyunji likely saw her life as fulfilling. Yet, there was a hint of unspoken yearning, a vague admiration for something else.

“There’s an arts and sports building too?” she asked.

“It’s a bit of a detour,” I said.

“Oh…” she sighed.

“There’s an auditorium for performances. Taking that route’s gentler, easier to walk,” I explained.

“You’re the best, Yoonseo-ssi!” she beamed.

Yeah, she’s totally here to sightsee. We both silently agreed to pretend otherwise. I didn’t ask what made me “the best,” and she didn’t specify what she was grateful for. Under the guise of avoiding sweat to preserve my makeup, we took the scenic route, strolling leisurely through campus. Just 20 minutes, but an indulgent luxury made possible by the borrowed car, letting us kill time in serene ease.

Part 10

“…Hoo,” Professor Hwang exhaled.

“I know, it’s hard to believe even seeing me in person,” I said.

“No, I mean… the documents you sent, and your parents’ call beforehand…” she trailed off.

Professor Hwang’s bemused expression hadn’t changed in the years I’d known her, pre- and post-military service. Her plain, rimless glasses and slightly thick sweater for the weather were the same. Her usual kind smile was replaced with clear bewilderment today, but her familiar voice—heard countless times in lectures—and the dizzying stacks of academic books lining her rectangular office were unchanged. The only unfamiliar thing was me. That realization felt oddly poignant.

“Uh… I don’t know if it’s okay to say this…” she started.

“Speak freely. I know it’s weird since I’m not the student you’re used to,” I said.

“…You’ve changed a lot, Yoonseo,” she said cautiously.

Her hesitant words drew a stifled chuckle from me. It wasn’t polite, but in this time-capsule-like space, realizing even Professor Hwang hadn’t changed softened my expression. I couldn’t help it.

“Changed too much for it to be just surgery, right?” I joked.

“Are you really Yoonseo?” she asked.

“The Yoonseo who got a B+ on last semester’s group project and couldn’t quite nab an A+,” I confirmed.

“Tch, grading’s fair. No special treatment for lab-slave hopefuls,” she teased.

“You’re just calling me a lab-slave hopeful now?” I laughed.

Professor Hwang Jung-sook—capable, virtuous, respected, a truly remarkable person. If anyone modern deserved the title of “saint,” it’d be her, alongside my parents. Her slow gesture invited me to sit, and I carefully closed the door and stepped inside.

“Still hate green tea?” she asked.

“Haha…” I laughed.

“Why’s a kid who loves herbal tea so dead-set against green tea?” she mused.

I’d informed her of my transformation through my parents and Dr. Kang’s documents. Still, I hadn’t expected her to treat me so unchanged. Watching her prepare coffee for a visiting student, as always, I struggled to contain my grin.

I didn’t think she’d be this consistent. Her attitude was… overwhelmingly heartwarming.

“I didn’t even know such a condition existed… It must’ve been tough, Yoonseo,” she said.

“Good thing it happened during break,” I replied.

“Still, you seem to have adjusted?” she asked.

“Do I look that way?” I said.

“You’re planning to return to school. If I turned into a man mid-college, I couldn’t imagine it,” she said.

Ground coffee, prepared in advance, poured gently through a filter. The soft coffee aroma, carried by faint steam, tickled my nose. Jamaica Blue Mountain—mild bitterness, light acidity, a familiar sensation from countless campus coffee runs.

“I’m not sure if I’m adjusted, but I think I get why some girls in my class got hysterical sometimes,” I said.

“Pfft, that’s about 20% of a woman’s struggles,” she laughed.

“Wow, 80% left?” I exclaimed.

“Women are delicate, sensitive creatures,” she said.

“And men are rough and dull?” I asked.

“You’d know better than me, wouldn’t you?” she teased.

As I reached for the coffee cup, she waved my hand away—not rudely, but a “It’s hot, wait!” gesture. It’d taken me ages to learn that. A memory, huh? Staring at the cup set before me with a clink, I felt a quiet relief, not just sentimentality.

“So, still aiming for a master’s?” she asked.

“After all the coffee you’ve poured me?” I replied.

“It must be confusing. Personally, I think you could take more time off,” she suggested.

“If it gets tough, you’ll have my back, right? I’m your favorite student,” I teased.

“A sweet kid turned sly as a girl,” she said.

“Hehe,” I giggled.

“Ugh, stop that creepy laugh. No special treatment,” she warned.

We chatted about school life—not as a student in a unique situation, but as one recovering from a hospital stay. Next semester’s changes, last semester’s shifts, canceled and new courses… She didn’t promise to do anything specific for me, but I felt I’d gained a solid ally for the coming term.

Knowing she saw me as Yoonseo, the returning student, not some transfer-like blonde coed, made this meeting worthwhile.