Work Text:
"Yeoboseyo?"
"Mr. Lee, good morning. This is your son's teacher Mr. Han. The reason for my call is that your son and another student in the class got into a physical fight. I'm sure you understand that this is unacceptable within an educational institution. The principal is summoning you and the other student's parent to address this matter."
This is how Minho's morning began after a sleepless night of work.
After a long night of dealing with bureaucratic paperwork, he had finally lain down to nap until it was time for his son to return from school, or more precisely, until he needed to leave to pick him up.
But just a couple of hours later, his smartphone buzzed unpleasantly by his ear. And not just once, twice, or even three times! But persistently, without stopping, grating on his nerves so intensely? Minho felt ready to shoot himself. His head was already splitting, and now this.
"A fight?" rubbing his eyes sleepily, Minho asked for confirmation, trying to piece the puzzle together. "Is Woo-Chul okay?" his voice sounded more alarmed now.
"Yes, he's fine. The boys only got a few scratches before I noticed them and separated them… The sooner you can come, the better. The principal has dismissed all of Woo-Chul's classmates to avoid them interfering with the proceedings, so please come as soon as possible."
"Of course, Mr. Han. I'll be there in thirty minutes."
Rushing into the shower, a wave of strange feelings washed over Minho. It was his son's first school fight. He understood such incidents were becoming more common in all schools, but his son was only ten. What could have possibly happened to make his son, the most easygoing and bright boy, resort to using his fists? It was unsettling. And it also angered him that the teacher wasn't present when the fight started. Where was he that he missed something like this?
Throwing on a pristine white shirt and his favorite suit, he smoothed down his bangs without a second glance, practically flying out of the high-rise apartment complex.
Whether it was his haste, or simply the lack of traffic in the middle of the workday — it didn't matter — but Minho arrived at the school surprisingly fast. Faster than he had anticipated.
Well, this was the first time he had been summoned as the parent of a student who got into a fight. It was quite nerve-wracking. Overall, he didn't care about the reason for the fight or the boy his son had fought with. The only thing weighing on him was whether his son was okay. He would tear that family apart if they had laid a hand on his closest and dearest person.
"Mr. Lee, I'm glad to see you, even if it's not for a very pleasant reason," Teacher Han bowed. "I'm sorry to pull you away from work, but we couldn't start the meeting without you."
"I wasn't at work. Where is Woo-Chul?" Minho scanned the area with his eyes, but his attempts were in vain, so he returned his gaze to the teacher.
"He's in the nurse's office; he complained of not feeling well and is waiting for you there."
And Minho felt as if the world was crumbling beneath his feet. Damn, when did school become such an unsafe place?
Jisung could barely keep up with the agitated parent, only catching up to him when he needed to point out which way to turn.
"Woo-Chul, are you okay?" Lee burst in without knocking, dropping to his knees in front of his son, grabbing his face to check for injuries.
"Mhm," he nodded, pursing his lips. "Appa, I'm sorry you had to come because of me. I know you worked all night and had just lain down to rest, and then I…"
"Don't apologize, the important thing is that you're safe and sound, understand? I'll have time to rest later," he smiled encouragingly, patting his son on the shoulder. "What happened? Who did you fight with? Please tell me the truth; I won't scold you. I need to know what and how it happened to know what to say to the principal."
"I really didn't mean to fight him! That Eun Woo is so annoying, always looking for a fight with someone! He picks on everyone for no reason and then complains! Today he was bothering Yuna, and she's a quiet girl, she won't speak up if she's being bullied, and he seems to like that, he feels like he can get away with anything. So I went over to them and told him to stop, and he immediately started trying to fight," explained the younger Lee, frowning during the explanation.
"Okay, I got it. Are you sure nothing hurts?" he repeated his question once more, receiving a noticeable nod. "Where is that girl, um... Yuni? Yune?"
"Yuna," Woo-Chul corrected, for which Minho immediately flicked his nose.
"Thank you. So where is she?" Minho asked.
"Yuna got scared when she saw the fight, so I brought her here until her parents arrive," Han spoke up, having been quieter than water, lower than the grass until now. He walked past Minho and his son, entering one of the curtained-off 'rooms'.
"Annyeonghaseyo", a girl's voice sounded softly, and she immediately bowed.
"Annyeong, Yuna. Is what Woo-Chul said true?"
"Appa! She's already scared, don't pressure her," Lee hissed, but shrank back at the sight of his father's frown.
"It's okay, Woo-Chul, I've calmed down now. Yes, Mr. Lee, it happened exactly as your son said. Eun Woo always picks on someone; he usually didn't do it to me, but today he decided he was bored and could take my pencil case and play with my pens and ruler like they were darts. I asked him not to do it because I didn't give him permission to touch my things, but he started calling me names and took my english textbook. Woo-Chul noticed and asked him to stop bothering me, to which Eun Woo started swinging his fists and yelling at both of us, and then he didn't give Woo-Chul a choice, lunging at him with his fists. Woo-Chul didn't fight him; he defended himself, and that's a little different," the girl quietly rambled, throwing brief glances towards the younger Lee.
"I understand, Yuna. Thank you for sharing that. Are your parents on their way soon?
"Mom just left work; I need to be at school for another forty minutes."
"Teacher Han, can we step into the hallway?"
"Sure."
Firmly closing the doors, Minho glanced at the young teacher with a menacing squint.
"Mr. Han, how many years have you been working as a teacher?" Minho asked, leaning his head against the doorframe.
"Five years, Mr. Lee. How is that relevant to what happened?" Han answered uncertainly, not understanding why the parent needed this information or what it would give him.
"Five years? I'm surprised. My son and that girl are telling the same version; I don't think they conspired. So why do I still not see that boy's parents? From what I can see, he's quite a troublemaker."
"Mr. Lee, you see, his family situation is complicated. I won't go into details, but the child is left to his own devices. He's trying to find the attention he misses from his parents in these wrong ways. I perfectly understand your feelings about this situation, but I ask you, please don't act rashly. I don't think the boy meant to hurt your child."
"Is that so? Listen to me, please, Teacher Han. I absolutely do not care what the parents of a child who starts fights at school, who bullies students and disrupts order, are doing. I don't care how his parents are raising him. The only thing I care about is that their inaction is causing my child to suffer. And I'm also very interested in where you were when the fight started?" Minho frowned.
"I understand your anger, Mr. Lee. When the fight started, it just happened that I was urgently called to the principal's office regarding another student. No one can predict the outcome of any given situation. Believe me, if I had known this could happen, I wouldn't have allowed it," Han explained, but Minho couldn't stop the anger boiling inside him.
"You seem to be doing a poor job if this is happening. You did allow it," and without letting him respond, he returned to the nurse's office, completely unaware that he wasn't the only one on edge. Completely unaware that his words might have hurt another.
۶ৎ
"Appa, I'm sorry again that you had to drop everything and come to me."
"Woo-Chul, you are not at fault for anything. You stood up for a friend and were only defending yourself. This is not your fault. It's okay, understand?" he playfully ruffled his son's hair, eliciting a joyful laugh.
"Appa-a!"
"I'm proud of you, Woo-Chul. You acted like a real man. Thank you for being honest in your soul and heart with her and with me; that's worth a lot."
"Are you sure you're my dad? My dad doesn't usually talk so eloquently…" Woo-Chul narrowed his eyes, then laughed loudly when Minho tickled his sides.
"Don't ever doubt that I am your dad, and you are my son, got it?" and he laughed himself, completely forgetting that he had just yelled at his son's teacher and hadn't batted an eye, and now he was standing there, all pleased and grinning.
"Goodbye, Mr. Lee. See you tomorrow, Woo-Chul," Jisung said goodbye, looking wistfully at the wonderful relationship between father and son. It's nice to see happy families. When a child has a good example, there's a ninety percent chance they will grow up to be a worthy person. The question is, can parents always set a good example for their child? Sometimes emotions take over, and we can't control it.
The school week had been incredibly tough for Jisung. The fight between his students, followed by several days of instructive monologues from the principal and boom, Jisung was exhausted.
He loved kids immensely. He wanted to teach them, help them learn new things, and be someone they could trust. But situations like these… Fuck, he couldn't just pick one of his students. They had all become dear to him in such a short time, and to just choose between two like that? No, he couldn't. Regardless of anything, they were all his students. The angry and restless, the kind and quiet. All people are different. Everyone has their own path and life experiences; he had no right to judge anyone.
His job was about teaching and understanding, learning and comparing. He was used to kids making mistakes, and you couldn't hold a grudge against them. But what if the parents overstepped? That he didn't understand. Most of them were older than Han, but they behaved worse than their own kids! They communicated rudely and disrespectfully. Inappropriately.
A terribly beautiful combination of colors in the glass clouded his mind. Jisung wasn't the type to drown his worries in alcohol. No, that's not right. He didn't drink at all. It's just that sometimes his mood was so rotten that he couldn't see any other way out…
Because Jisung didn't drink, he wasn't familiar with all types of alcohol, and consequently, he had no sense of his own limit. He also didn't realize what would make him drunk faster.
The bartender suggested the bar's new signature cocktail, which suited Jisung just fine – at least he didn't have to choose.
The liquid spread pleasantly down his throat, followed by a bitter aftertaste. He didn't care what happened later, he didn't care about tomorrow or the day after. He didn't care about anything. His phone had been on silent for a while; he could finally rest. Being a teacher wasn't so easy. Every day was filled with worry for the kids.
"Teacher Han?" came a voice from the side, making Jisung want to bang his head on the table. Why him, and why here?
Raising his head, he tried to focus his gaze on the person who had spotted him. Oh.
"Mr. Lee, annyeonghaseyo."
Minho snorted at the sight of his son's teacher and sat down next to him.
"I never thought teachers could allow themselves to visit places like this…"
"I don't see anything strange about it. You just don't know teachers, so you think you don't meet them in places like this."
"Perhaps you're right."
"I am right."
"Fine," Minho agreed, looking the teacher over with a studying gaze. Outside of school, he was different. More free and less restrained. As if he had become even more beautiful.
"Did something happen, or are you just here to relax?" Minho asked, as if casually trying to feel out the situation.
"I don't think I want to answer your question. You know, I do my job poorly, I allow fights during school hours, I don't think you should be interested in my life outside of school."
"Come on, did my words really bother you?" Minho asked, genuinely surprised.
"No, not at all. You just devalued all my hard work by saying I do my job poorly. No big deal," now he was clearly not hiding his resentment, and that was even better. Let him sulk, and maybe it would pass on its own.
Glass after glass loosened the young teacher's tongue. He became more and more open to conversation and didn't watch his words at all, even using profanity, which was really improper for a teacher. But right now, outside of school, he was an ordinary person, like everyone else. A person who was tired. And Minho had happened to be nearby very conveniently. Literally the perfect timing.
And it really made Minho think about his own words. He had never worked with so many kids, never thought about such things. And Jisung did this day after day, trying to keep an eye on every single kid, because that was his responsibility. Making sure they didn't fight, get hurt, break anything, or get themselves killed – that was the teachers' concern, on top of teaching, grading papers, filling out forms and the class register. How horrifying!
Minho genuinely felt sorry for Han. His words echoed in his memory. And he had acted like a fool, lashing out at someone who wasn't to blame. How could he have known that child would decide to start a fight? He could only guess, but know for sure? No.
Minho was ashamed. Ashamed that he had snapped on him. Ashamed that he didn't let the matter be fully resolved. Ashamed that he was the kind of person who acts first and thinks later.
Perhaps buying him a drink as an apology wasn't entirely correct, but a better situation than this was unlikely to present itself.
And Jisung didn't mind. He gratefully accepted the cocktails, paying no attention to how much he was drinking.
He only realized it was time to stop when he found himself leaning in to kiss the student's parent, puckering his lips like a silly duck. What surprised him more was that Minho responded immediately, as if he had been waiting for it all evening.
The next morning, his head was splitting horribly, as if it had been pounded with a hammer. His throat was uncomfortably sore, and his lower back ached.
Images flashed through the guy's mind one after another, painfully hitting his consciousness.
No, he couldn't have done it. He was aware of his actions, he couldn't have allowed it.
But when he turned his head to the left, all his possible excuses crumbled to dust.
It wasn't a dream. They really had hook up.
Fuck, he really hook up with a parent of his student. What about ethics, damn it!
He literally hook up with a parent of his student! Woo-Chul is such a good kid, God, why did Jisung have to go to that bar? He could have just bought soju and passed out face-first in a plate of snacks, but no!
The pounding of his heart echoed somewhere in his ears, making him want to shriek like a girl.
The main question facing him now: what should he do? He was sure that even if he managed to run away, it wouldn't be left at that.
But what could he do? Lie there and wait for Minho to wake up? No, that definitely wasn't an option!
All his plans shattered the moment he intended to get up, but his wrist was deftly caught by another hand.
"Leaving already?"
Fuck.
He's fucked up.