The next morning, Jungkook pushed open the classroom door, mentally bracing himself for the familiar onslaught of flirtatious comments that greeted him each day. As he entered, several students perked up, their eyes lighting with mischievous glints.

"Morning, Jungkook!" one student called out with a grin, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ready to give us another art lesson, or just here to brighten our day?"

Another student leaned back in her chair, her tone teasing. "Jungkook, how about those private lessons we've been begging for? We're still waiting for that!"

Jungkook let out a sigh, closing the door behind him with a resolute click. He walked to his desk, his shoulders squared and his expression set with a mix of determination and weariness. "I'd really appreciate it if we could focus on the lesson today," he said, his voice steady but tinged with an edge of frustration. "Please take this class seriously. It's important for your progress."

His gaze swept over the room, meeting a blend of disinterested glances and sly, amused smiles. He hoped his request would sink in and make an impact, but the light-hearted, teasing atmosphere remained unchanged.

When he greeted them with a "Good morning," his voice carried a note of earnestness. A few students offered half-hearted nods, their eyes drifting away almost immediately. Meanwhile, others remained engrossed in their conversations, their chatter creating a low hum that underscored their disregard for his attempt to command their attention.

His eyes instinctively drifted to the back of the room, searching for the familiar sight of Sora's attentive figure, which usually offered him a small measure of comfort with her respectful bow. The empty seat at the back, where she usually sat, stood out starkly in its vacancy today. It was the first time she had missed a class in the three months he had been teaching. A pang of concern tightened in his chest, and he worried about what might have happened to her after last night.

Jungkook's thoughts remained preoccupied with Sora's absence, his concern deepening with each passing minute. He couldn't help but worry whether Yoongi might have caused her trouble or if she was simply unwell. The weight of his unease made it difficult for him to concentrate on the lesson.

Today's topic was an advanced exploration of perspective drawing, a critical technique for adding depth and realism to their artwork. Jungkook aimed to teach them how to effectively use vanishing points and horizon lines to create three-dimensional spaces on a two-dimensional canvas. The lesson involved demonstrating how these techniques could transform simple sketches into compelling, realistic compositions.

"Today, we'll be diving into advanced perspective drawing," Jungkook announced, though his voice carried an undercurrent of distraction. "We'll focus on creating depth and dimension in your compositions by using vanishing points and horizon lines. This will help you understand how to accurately position objects in space, giving your work a more realistic and engaging feel."

The students' groans and sighs filled the room as the complexity of the topic became apparent. "We haven't even started yet and it already sounds so complicated," one student muttered while rolling his eyes.

Jungkook, sensing their frustration, offered a reassuring smile. "I understand that this might seem a bit overwhelming at first," he said gently. "But once we break it down, it'll start to make more sense. Perspective drawing is a powerful tool for creating depth and realism. Let's take it step by step, and I'm here to help if you have any questions."

Jungkook felt a flicker of relief at the students' complaints. As strange as it seemed, their grumbling signified that they had been listening to him, actively processing the information rather than passively going through the motions. It was a small comfort in the midst of his distraction, it meant the students listened and cared enough to express their frustration, which, in a way, was a positive indication of their involvement.

Jungkook moved to the whiteboard, his hand steady as he began illustrating the fundamentals of linear perspective. "First, let's establish the horizon line," he said, marking a straight line across the board. "This line represents the viewer's eye level. Next, we'll add our vanishing points along this line. For one-point perspective, you'll use a single vanishing point. For two-point perspective, you'll place two vanishing points at opposite ends of the horizon line."

He noticed some students had already tuned out, their attention drifting, while one or two watched intently, their eyes reflecting a genuine curiosity. That small spark of interest from a couple of students was enough to offer him a sliver of encouragement.

Jungkook continued, demonstrating how to draw a road that narrowed toward the vanishing point for one-point perspective. He then shifted to showing how buildings can be arranged using two-point perspective to create more complex depth. He meticulously explained how to maintain proportionality and realism as objects receded into the distance, ensuring that each element appeared accurate and believable.

A few more students had their eyes on the whiteboard, growing increasingly interested in Jungkook's demonstration of realistic drawings. Despite his thorough explanations and the clear, step-by-step process, Jungkook's mind remained partially elsewhere. Each time he glanced at the empty seat where Sora usually sat, a pang of worry tightened in his chest. Her absence was a persistent distraction, pulling his focus away from the lesson and leaving him with an uneasy feeling about what might have happened.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, Jungkook felt a wave of relief wash over him. The class had been challenging, with his scattered focus making the lesson feel disjointed. He started packing his materials, the disorientation from his preoccupied thoughts lingering.

The students, now liberated from the intensity of perspective drawing, began to gather their things. Their chatter filled the room, a contrast to the earlier tension.

One student, leaning casually against Jungkook's desk at the front with a mischievous glint in her eye, called out, "If you're as good with perspective in real life as you are on the board, I think I need to see those skills up close. How about some extra lessons in private?"

The comment were met with laughter from the rest of the class, their amusement clear. Jungkook, though accustomed to such remarks, couldn't help but feel a tinge of frustration. He took a deep breath, striving to maintain his composure amidst the playful jabs.

Jungkook managed a tired but polite smile as he replied, "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I'm afraid I'm not offering any private lessons. Let's focus more on the class while I'm teaching, okay?"

Unbeknownst to him, this time, his tone carried an unexpected authority that underscored his seriousness. It was the first time his students had heard him speak with such firmness, and it immediately quelled any further attempts at teasing him. The shift in his demeanor was palpable, and the room slowly fell silent as they recognized that Jungkook was not in the mood for jokes.

Without expecting a response, Jungkook swiftly gathered his materials and made his way to the staff office.

Settling at his desk with two hours of free time before his next class, Jungkook tried to focus on planning the upcoming lesson. However, his thoughts kept drifting back to Sora, no matter how hard he tried to concentrate.

He grappled with a deep internal conflict, torn between his genuine concern for Sora and the strict boundaries of his professional role. He questioned whether his worry was crossing into inappropriate territory. Was it typical for teachers to feel this level of personal concern for their students, or was he overstepping his role?

The fear of intruding on Sora's private life weighed heavily on him. He was acutely aware of the need to maintain a clear line between himself and his students, and the thought of potentially blurring that line made him uneasy. He didn't want to appear overbearing or inappropriate, and this fear of misstep left him feeling trapped in a dilemma—genuinely concerned for her well-being while desperately wanting to respect the boundaries of his position.

Jungkook ate his lunch mechanically, barely noticing the taste as his thoughts remained consumed by worry. The rest of his day passed in a disjointed blur, the hours slipping by as he struggled to fully engage in his next two classes. Despite his efforts, he found it difficult to focus, his concern for Sora never far from his mind.

As the day drew to a close, Jungkook made a decision. He couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility for Sora's well-being and knew he would never forgive himself if something were wrong and he did nothing. The thought of crossing professional boundaries gnawed at him, but his concern for Sora outweighed his fears or hesitation. He resolved to check on her, even if it meant risking the fine line between caring teacher and intrusive figure.

Just as Jungkook was about to leave the office, his hand poised on the doorknob, Mr. Lee, the director of the art course, appeared in the doorway. "Mr. Jeon," Mr. Lee greeted him, his tone friendly yet firm. "Are you heading to the meeting now? Let's go together."

Jungkook's heart skipped a beat as he registered Mr. Lee's reminder. He had been so consumed by his concern for Sora that the meeting had completely slipped his mind. The surprise was evident in his widened eyes and the sudden rush of realization. Forcing a quick smile to mask his surprise, he nodded and said, "Of course, Mr. Lee," as he followed the director out of the office. Though the urgency to check on Sora lingered in his thoughts, he knew the meeting couldn't be avoided, no matter how much it gnawed at him.

The meeting convened with five members in total, all of them seasoned art professors except for Jungkook, the newest addition to the faculty as an art instructor. As the most junior member, Jungkook found himself quietly observing at first, taking in the dynamic of the group. The primary agenda was to finalize the themes for the year-end exams, tailored for each level of college students.

After a thorough discussion, the committee agreed that the freshmen would tackle figure drawing for their final exam. This task required them to draw a live model of their choice-a marked progression from their previous, less challenging assignments. The shift to figure drawing represented a significant leap in complexity, intended to push the students to apply the foundational skills they had built over the semester.

As the meeting progressed, Jungkook couldn't help but feel a gnawing doubt creeping in. The idea of assigning figure drawing as the year-end exam theme for freshmen seemed daunting, especially considering the lack of focus his students had shown in his classes. He questioned whether they would be able to handle such a significant step up from their previous assignments, particularly when so many of them barely paid any attention to his lessons.

The thought weighed heavily on him as the discussion continued, making him wonder if he was setting them up for failure or if this was the push they needed to take their work seriously.

When the meeting concluded, the sun had already set. Jungkook knew it would be inappropriate to visit Sora at this hour, yet the worry persisted. He decided to drive by her house, just to check if everything was alright.

He parked outside her home, observing from a distance. The lights were on, and the house appeared normal, with no signs of trouble. Though he couldn't see much, the presence of light and the lack of any obvious issues gave him a small measure of relief.

He can't help but feel disturbed by his own behaviour. It was like he's a stalker, despite his intentions being kind. He sighed, unable to believe he'd stoop this low. However, with his heart still heavy but slightly eased, Jungkook turned his car around and headed back to his own home.

When the meeting finally concluded, the sky outside had deepened into dusk, the last traces of sunlight fading into the horizon. Jungkook glanced at the clock; it was late, far too late for a visit to a student's home, no matter how concerned he was. As a teacher, he knew he had to maintain boundaries.

Yet, despite his better judgment, the persistent worry gnawing at him refused to be silenced. The thought of Yoongi lingered in his mind. He knew how dangerous Yoongi could be when he was angry, and Sora's sudden absence only deepened his concern. Something about it just didn't sit right with him. The possibility that she might be in trouble made it impossible for him to ignore the uneasy feeling in his gut.

Jungkook decided to drive by Sora's house, telling himself it was just to check if everything was okay. As he navigated through the quiet streets, doubts started to cloud his mind. Was he overstepping his role? Would this make him seem creepy or intrusive? The thought gnawed at him, but by the time he considered turning back while he still could, he realized he was already there.

Parking his car a short distance away, Jungkook felt a tightness in his chest as his eyes scanned the surroundings. The house stood quiet and serene, bathed in the soft glow of interior lights. From his vantage point, he could see nothing amiss—no signs of distress, and nothing out of the ordinary.

The sight offered him a small measure of relief. The lights suggested someone was home, possibly going about their evening routine, and that sense of normalcy eased some of the worry that had been weighing on him all day. He lingered for a few moments longer, allowing the calm of the evening to soothe his frayed nerves.

If it weren't so late, he might have been tempted to ring the doorbel, to check on Sora's well-being personally. But as he sat there, the reality of what he was doing began to sink in. He couldn't help but feel uneasy, wondering if he was coming off as a stalker. He worried that his presence, however well-intentioned, might alarm Sora and her family if they saw him lingering outside their home.

The thought made his stomach twist with guilt. Deciding it was best to leave, Jungkook turned the car around and headed home. The journey was quiet, and while his concern eased slightly, it was far from gone. Despite the small comfort the brief visit had provided, he couldn't shake the lingering unease. He felt conflicted, knowing that, even if only in his own mind, he had crossed a boundary he should never have approached.