Tuesday

"Attention all students and teachers." Mark’s voice carried across the intercom—steady enough, though he could feel a tiny, restless spark under his ribs. "Some teachers have decided on who they will ask to perform with them. Huang Renjun, Dong Sicheng, and Nakamoto Yuta—please come to the meeting office so we can talk. Students who are performing, head to the stage room. Art class students as well—please hurry. I’ll meet with the called teachers first, then join you. You may continue now."

He stepped into the meeting office to find the three middle school teachers already waiting, all smiles.

Mark: “I want you three to perform with us. I know you can all sing and dance. We’ll also have our star students from classes 12B and 11C in most of the performances, along with Jeno, Jaemin, and myself. The other teachers are performing too, though unfortunately not all of them.”
Yuta: “Alright. We’ll meet with the others now—stage room?”
Mark: “Yes. Don’t worry, I’m heading there too.”

Their footsteps echoed in the hallway, the sound oddly sharp in Mark’s ears. Every thought that wasn’t about schedules or rehearsals seemed to loop back to him. Tomorrow, that same hallway would have a certain short, tan, warm-eyed music teacher walking down it. The idea made his pulse tick up just a notch.

Mark: “Hello, students. As you know, we’ll be performing for the new music teacher tomorrow, so I want everything organized today. Art students—watch our rehearsal first, then head to the store with the school card. Ten and Johnny will join you. Now, let’s hurry up.”

The rehearsal flowed with an easy rhythm—voices blending, movements snapping into place. It was good. Better than good, and he caught himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, Donghyuck would be impressed.

Mark: “Chenle, Jisung—you’re both getting an extra A in P.E. and music. Don’t forget—be here early tomorrow. Six thirty.”
Jisung: “Yes, sir.”
Chenle: “Of course, sir.” They bowed, their grins quick and bright before disappearing backstage.

Ten: “Alright, my little pumpkins, let’s go shopping~” His singsong made even the more serious art students smile as they trailed out.

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Mark: “Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jeno, Jaemin—the new teacher will use the old music teacher’s office. I ordered some new things for it yesterday, and I’ll need your help setting them up. Can you do that?”
Jeno: “Yeah, of course.”

They made their way to the third-largest office in the school. The moment Mark stepped inside, he took in the scent of polished wood from the grand piano and the neat row of guitars along the wall. All his. From age five to twenty. They’d been constant through his life, through loss, through becoming principal too soon.

His father’s absence was still a quiet ache, but there was pride too. Pride in what he’d built here—tablets in every desk, cup holders for drinks, gum allowed in class, even assignments that encouraged phone use. It was a school built for real students, not a rulebook. Even the bathrooms sparkled thanks to a cleaning staff who actually liked their jobs.

As they set up, Mark’s mind wandered more than once. He wondered what Donghyuck would think of the room. Would he notice the guitars? Would he ask about them? Would he smile that same smile from yesterday, the one that made Mark feel like he’d been hit with an old, half-forgotten song?

Two hours later, they were adjusting the last details when the door creaked open.

Johnny: “We have everything from your list—this is the first batch. The art club’s already decorating the stage room.”
Ten: “Anything else you need help with?”
Mark: “How does it look?”
Ten: “Adorable. Cozy. Definitely gives childlike, cheerful vibes.”
Johnny: “We could use extra hands for the decorations, though.”
Jeno: “Sure, I’ll help.”
Jaemin: “If he’s going, I’m going.”

They all headed back to the stage room together, the air filled with the sound of scissors snipping, paper rustling, and the occasional burst of laughter.

(Mark’s thoughts) I hope you like it, Donghyuck. I hope you see it’s more than just an office—it’s a welcome.