My Professor Agent

Chapter 27

The one left behind

The next day arrived far too quickly.

Morning sunlight poured through the tall college hallway windows, cutting long golden rectangles across the polished floor. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, glowing softly as students passed through them. The building was alive — laughter echoed, lockers slammed shut, footsteps hurried in different directions. Some students walked shoulder to shoulder, fingers loosely intertwined. Others rushed past, coffee in hand, already late.

Life was moving.

Unbothered.
Unaware.

Yoongi walked through it all at his usual slow, almost lazy pace — shoulders slightly hunched, hands buried deep in his pockets. People often joked that he walked like a tired old man, but the truth was simpler.

He didn’t rush.
He didn’t panic.
He didn’t waste energy where it wasn’t needed.

And today, for once, there was no chaos chasing him. No shouting friends. No reckless dumbs storming ahead of him. No arguments, Nothing.

Just quiet.

Yoongi loved quiet more than anything else.

He stopped in front of a door near the end of the hallway.

PROF. KIM TAEHYUNG
The nameplate gleamed faintly under the light.

Yoongi stared at it for a second longer than necessary, jaw tightening slightly. Then he raised his hand and knocked.

Once.
Twice.

A soft voice answered from inside.

“Come in.”

Yoongi opened the door and stepped inside.

The room smelled faintly of coffee and paper. Neat. Organized. Too clean — like no one ever truly lived in it. Taehyung sat behind his desk, phone in hand, long fingers scrolling absently. He looked up mid-motion.

Confusion crossed his face immediately.

Brows knitting.
Posture straightening.
Guard coming up.

“Professor Kim,” Yoongi greeted calmly, offering a slight tilt of his head. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Taehyung blinked once, then set his phone down face-up on the desk. He gestured toward the chair across from him.

“Please, have a seat,” he said politely. “How can I help you, Mr. Min?”

Yoongi didn’t hesitate. He dropped into the chair like he belonged there, elbows resting loosely on his thighs.

Taehyung studied him quietly.

He knew Min Yoongi. Not personally — but enough. Jungkook’s shadow. Always nearby. Always watching. They had exchanged polite words before, brief nods, nothing beyond professional courtesy. Seeing him here — early morning, no class scheduled — made something uneasy settle in Taehyung’s chest.

This wasn’t about academics.

Yoongi inhaled slowly, like someone bracing himself.

“Professor… I’m here about something personal.”

Taehyung stiffened almost imperceptibly.

Yoongi continued before he could be stopped. “I won’t talk in circles. I don’t like doing that.” His eyes lifted, sharp and honest. “And honestly? This isn’t my place. It never was.”