Chapter 89
At last, the start of the semester was just around the corner.
This year’s incoming freshmen and upperclassmen had probably gone to freshman orientation, gotten to know one another, and grown close while playing drinking games like Baskin-Robbins Thirty-One.
(*Saeteo: “Freshman Learning Center,” an event where students meet and socialize before the school year begins)
Apparently, the other professors in the Department of Mathematical Sciences had also attended the event ahead of time to greet the freshmen.
Ugh. I wanted to introduce myself ahead of time too.
But a new professor’s schedule was packed with things like preparing syllabi, getting a faculty ID number issued, and attending appointment-related events,
so I hadn’t been given any time to meet the freshmen before the semester began.
I’d wanted to meet Eun-chae unni, who was an incoming freshman this year, and clap-clap with her too, so I was a tiny bit disappointed.
Oh, well.
I could just introduce myself after the semester began!
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Rustle-rustle-.
“I’ll pack my sailor uniform too….”
“A-yeon, did you pack your toothbrush and toothpaste?”
“Oh, right! I need to brush my teeth after lunch too!”
Mom and I carefully prepared everything for my first day commuting to Seoul National University tomorrow.
For the record, there’s a very good reason I’ve diligently packed my black sailor uniform for important events ever since I was five.
Actually, I like pink, cutesy things, so I enjoy wearing bright and cheerful clothes at home.
But I know that if I’m going to lecture in front of dozens of students, wearing black-toned clothes is much better.
Think about it.
The blackboard is a dark green that reduces eye strain, while chalk is white, right?
But imagine me standing in front of it wearing bright, cheerful clothes.
The unnis and oppas listening to my lecture would be dazzled by my outfit, unable to read the writing on the blackboard properly, and forced to squint hard-!
Idols wear pink clothes onstage because their goal is to draw everyone’s attention to themselves.
Professors should be the opposite.
We have to dress calmly, like part of the background, so the students’ eyes go to the blackboard instead of me.
…Well. To be honest.
I did choose this sailor uniform partly because the red neckerchief poking out and showing off its presence made it the cutest of all the black-toned outfits.
Tick-tock-.
Before I knew it, the clock showed that it was past nine at night.
Since I’m a good little early-to-bed child, I go nini-night at nine.
I changed into the rabbit pajamas I bought in France and finished getting ready for bed.
Then, still wearing my teddy-bear pajamas and hugging Popo, I gently lay down beside Arin, who was sleeping peacefully-.
I pulled the blanket up to my neck, hugged Topi, and slowly closed my eyes.
But then.
Wide awake-.
For some reason, my mind was unusually clear.
The thought that I would finally start working as a professor tomorrow made my heart flutter with excitement, and I simply couldn’t fall asleep.
How should I structure my lectures?
What kind of expressions would the students make when they saw me?
What if I accidentally said something embarrassing?
All kinds of thoughts spun round and round- in my head.
‘No, Yoo A-yeon… You need to go to sleep…!’
I squeezed my eyes shut.
If I tossed and turned all night, I wouldn’t be a good little early-to-bed child.
My growth hormone would only come out this much, and I wouldn’t grow any taller!
I’m only 118 centimeters tall as it is. If I don’t grow any taller from here, it’ll be a real disaster!
In the end.
Since I couldn’t fall asleep, I closed my eyes and began counting prime numbers as my secret weapon.
‘2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19…’
I went through the prime numbers I had memorized in my head one by one.
‘…4283, 428…9……’
About an hour passed like that.
By the time I reached the prime number 4289,
I finally managed to drift off to dreamland.
Tomorrow, my first day as a real professor would begin.
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Seoul National University’s College of Natural Sciences, Building 27.
The first floor of the Department of Mathematical Sciences building.
Murmur-murmur-.
The hallway was unusually bustling.
Students heading to their classrooms stopped one by one and peeked toward one side of the hallway.
The murmuring grew louder and louder.
When I approached to see what was going on, it was hard to tell because a crowd was packed together.
A freshman asked a friend standing nearby.
“Hey, why are so many people gathered here?”
“You don’t know? That famous person is becoming a professor today.”
“Famous person? Who?”
“Professor Yoo A-yeon.”
“Professor Yoo A-yeon? I don’t really know her.”
“…What? You don’t know Yoo A-yeon? Seriously? You should watch the news once in a while.”
“I don’t. I cut off the internet at my cram-school dorm and only studied for the CSAT. Is she really that famous?”
“Sigh… You’ll know exactly why she’s famous when you see her.”
“Come on, what’s so special about a professor…?”
Suddenly, footsteps came from the end of the hallway.
Tap-tap-tap-.
The footsteps of a little girl, somewhat out of place at a university mostly attended by people in their twenties.
As the girl walked confidently forward, the crowd in the hallway split neatly to both sides, clearing a path.
And then.
She greeted the university students in the Department of Mathematical Sciences with a bright smile.
“Hoo heheh. Hello! I’m Yoo A-yeon, the new professor! I’m seven years old this year!”
Crash———!!!!!!!!!!!!
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An enormous crowd had gathered in the building’s hallway.
It seemed the rumor had spread far and wide that the department’s new professor was the youngest professor in history—a seven-year-old.
So everyone had rushed over like this to get a look at the tiny professor.
“Where, where? They say she’s really seven?”
“No way. How can some little kid be a professor…?”
“Didn’t you see the news?”
Skeptical voices came from here and there.
Nihihi, but what should I do?
I’m the kind of child whose need for recognition explodes, so I actually welcome all these expectant eyes fixed on me!
The more attention I get, the more excited I become, you know.
I toddled forward- toward the crowd.
Then I neatly clasped my hands, smiled brightly, and greeted them.
“Hoo heheh. Hello! I’m Yoo A-yeon, the new professor! I’m seven years old this year!”
…And then, from somewhere.
I felt as if I heard a crash-!
“O-oh… It’s true. It’s really Yoo A-yeon….”
“She’s that kid we saw on TV!”
“She’s even cuter in person…!”
The hallway fell silent for a moment.
Then it quickly heated up with excitement.
“Professor Yoo A-yeon! Nice to meet you!”
“Professor, I’m a fan!”
“Please give me your autograph!”
Rumble-rumble-rumble~.
The college unnis and oppas began begging me for autographs.
Wow, I felt like I’d become some kind of celebrity!
I wanted to grab each and every one of them and give them a zinc autograph in the cursive handwriting I had practiced so diligently.
But unfortunately, since it was right after the semester began, I was a little busy with a mountain of administrative work that had to be taken care of.
‘Ugh, what should I do?’
Just then.
Mom grabbed me by the side and swiftly lifted me into her arms.
“Eek!”
Whoosh-.
My view suddenly rose higher.
The gazes of the college unnis and oppas below slowly followed me upward.
“Hing, how embarrassing….”
Held in Mom’s arms, I blushed slightly.
Still holding me, Mom calmly began to speak.
“Professor Yoo A-yeon has just taken office and is very busy, so we’ll be taking our leave now.”
Mom persuaded them in a firm yet elegant tone.
“Besides, you’ll be seeing each other often. She says she’ll definitely give you autographs later~.”
The college students who had been eagerly approaching me nodded obediently, as if disappointed but understanding that it couldn’t be helped.
“Ah, yes! Sorry to bother you when you’re busy, Professor!”
“Please give me one next time-!”
And so.
On my very first day reporting to work for the new semester,
I made sure the undergraduate unnis and oppas in the Department of Mathematical Sciences’ first-floor lobby remembered my appointment as their professor.
As I left the hallway in Mom’s arms, I secretly smiled with satisfaction.
To be this popular from the very first day.
I was looking forward to my life as a professor.
“Heheh. Mom, I’m super popular, right? Right?”
“Hehe, yes. Our A-yeon is a total celebrity.”
Mom chuckled as she hugged me close.
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Mom and I entered my pink, cutesy research lab and finally took a breather.
“Phew… I feel so comfortable now that we’re here.”
Mom set me down on the floor.
I plopped down- onto a children’s chair where my feet could touch the ground.
Mom sat down- at the graduate student’s desk and said,
“Professor Yoo A-yeon, you worked hard on your first day.”
My mother, a doctoral student, was calling me Professor.
Normally, she called me A-yeon, A-yeon, but we had agreed in advance that she would call me Professor only when we were here.
After all, another graduate student might apply to work in my lab, and it would be awkward if we kept using the names we did at home, right?
“Heehee-.”
But hearing Mom call me Professor made the area around my neck feel ticklish.
It was awkward, but not unpleasant.
I scratched my cheek and tried using the title I had practiced in advance, however awkwardly.
“Hmm, hmm, then… M-Miss Seol-ae… Um… good work getting to work…!”
Then.
“Pfft…!”
Mom couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing.
“Pffft, what was that, A-yeon? That was so awkward.”
“Hing, I practiced really hard in front of the mirror….”
I wiggled my index finger.
Mom calmly guided the awkward atmosphere along.
“Then, Professor, shall we try it one more time?”
“Um… I… uh… M-Miss Seol… um…”
I simply shut my lips.
Calling Mom by her name was way too hard.
I kept practicing after that, but there was no sign that I was getting used to it.
“A-yeon, you don’t need to pressure yourself. Just call me whatever feels comfortable.”
Thinking about it carefully, she was right.
I was the professor and Mom was the graduate student, so I was technically above her in the hierarchy no matter what I did.
Then how I addressed my graduate student was up to me too!
I squeezed my eyes shut and shouted,
“Uh… then I’ll just call you Mom! From now on, you’re Mom!”
In the end, all the other titles felt too embarrassing, so I decided to keep calling her Mom as I always had.
This too was a professor’s privilege.
Pat-pat-pat-.
“Hehe, good job, Professor Yoo A-yeon.”
My graduate-student mother stroked my head.
“Hmph… I’m a professor, though.”
I puffed out my cheeks, but obediently let her pat-pat me.