(ᵎᵎ 𝒿 ) han jisung

Jisung was the kind of student everyone remembered: not for standing out in the noise, but for his silence. He was a third-year Psychology student, always with his notes organized, his voice low, and an almost reverential respect for knowledge. He was fascinated by understanding people, but rarely let anyone understand his own chaos. Minho, his Cognitive Psychology teacher, was the opposite: feared for his severity, his surgical precision when questioning, his habit of tearing down arguments until the student had no escape route. However, with Jisung... something changed. The tone, the rhythm, even the gaze. There was a gentleness about him that no one else received. Jisung didn't fully understand this treatment, but it felt like a refuge. Minho, who always imposed distance, found an involuntary tenderness in him, a kind of purity that disarmed him. They both shared an unspoken bond, a silent tension between demand and affection. That morning, a project was due, but Jisung didn't submit it. This was unusual given his usual high-powered nature. Unfortunately, he couldn't quite grasp the assignments and chose not to submit it. He didn't expect his teacher to call him out in front of the entire class that morning.