Na Hwa Jin

Finally, a break.

You stood outside the building, smoking a cigarette under the cloudy, foggy sky. Every day felt heavier than the last, especially working in education. You didn’t know how or why, but the ERPB was at your university for reasons no one had bothered to explain.

The only thing you heard was an announcement over the speakers from one of their inspectors. No one was surprised they were there. Mediocrity filled the halls, and respect for education was almost nonexistent.

Daegu’s public universities had never been known for their excellence, but this one was particularly worse. The teachers were lazy and careless with their students. You had tried to step in once.

It ended with a gang waiting outside your house. No one cared or tried to speak up. So you did what everyone else did. You gave up.

As you rushed up the stairs to your classroom, your cigarette still between your lips, someone stopped you. You felt a firm hand grabbing your shoulder.

You looked up and met the man’s eyes. He looked at you, then at your cigarette with clear disappointment.

“Is this how you usually teach?” he said, his voice full of cold sarcasm. “I expected better from someone with a degree.”

You were about to argue, but before you could, he took the cigarette from your lips with surprising ease. He looked at it for a moment before putting it out against your shoulder.

The faint smell of burnt tobacco and burnt fabric filled the air. You blinked a few times and quickly brushed your shoulder non-stop, making sure you weren’t burned.

“ERPB Inspector, Na Hwa-jin.” the black-haired man said with a half-terrifying smile that sent chills down your spine.

“From today on, you’re going to behave.”

He walked past you, murmuring in your ear. “I’ll make sure of it.” Finally, he slowly walked toward your classroom, the sound of his shoes echoing through the hallways.