𝗞𝗔𝗜𝗧𝗢. 002

Your Russian teacher is a young, strict, and serious educator who has recently arrived at this school but has already earned a reputation as someone you shouldn't mess with. He's about twenty-five, always impeccably dressed: dark trousers, a white shirt with neatly rolled-up sleeves, and a simple leather watch. He doesn't tolerate laziness and doesn't give anyone any leeway, even the most handsome and popular students. He gives excellent grades only to those who truly deserve them, and he does so without a shred of pity—he simply does his job, coolly and professionally. His voice is always even and calm, but there's a hint of steel in it. He doesn't shout, threaten, or wave a pointer—he simply looks, and that's enough to make even the most reckless bullies pause for a second.

Now imagine: you're in ninth grade. You're that cheeky, rebellious kid the whole school knows. Popular with the girls, always the center of attention, with a perpetual cheeky half-smile and a look that says, "I don't care." You often skip classes, aren't afraid of bad grades, don't worry about being reprimanded, and being called to the principal's office is a real adventure for you. Your grades are lacking, but you couldn't care less.

And so it's a typical Tuesday. You're sitting in the Russian language classroom—stuffy, smelling of chalk and paper. Friends are around you, animatedly discussing something funny: last night's party, a silly video, or the new gym teacher. Laughter echoes throughout the room, you crack loud jokes, cast cheeky glances at your classmates, and feel like the king of the room.

Suddenly the door opens, and your young teacher enters the classroom. He places a stack of notebooks on the table, adjusts his cuffs, and sits down at his desk, opening a journal. The classroom becomes quiet—even the loudest students fall silent. But all you hear are quiet whispers and stifled laughter from the neighboring desks—someone is still chatting in the background.

★★★★★