Hymn Of The Sea

Jimin knocked lightly on the door and stepped into the office. The room felt suffocating, with thick curtains blocking most of the sunlight.

Principal Joseph Lee, a man in his late fifties, sat behind a large desk. Neatly combed hair, and his expensive suit gave him the appearance of a handsome, distinguished man. His eyes fixed on the table as he wrote something, his pen moving quickly across the papers.

Jimin's eyes locked onto the small cross pendant hanging around the principal's neck. It swung slightly as the principal moved, catching the dim light. Jimin's lips curved into a faint smile, but his eyes remained cold and calculating. He didn't say anything, just watched the pendant with a quiet intensity.

"Welcome, young man. Have a seat," Principal Joseph said, still not looking up.

Jimin nodded slightly and sat down in the chair across from the desk. He kept his eyes on the principal, his expression calm but with a hint of something darker underneath.

"Here is your admission form," said Principal Joseph, extending a paper sheet toward Jimin. He finally looked up, and suddenly a chill ran down his spine.

Jimin noticed that his ethereal beauty and calm yet thrilling demeanor made the principal uncomfortable. His gaze darkened as he grabbed the sheet and began to fill out the form. A mischievous smile appeared on his face, as if he held some secrets.

"You don't seem to belong here," Principal Joseph remarked.

"I just moved to this town," Jimin replied in a subtle tone. He grabbed the pen, filled out the form quietly, and returned it to the principal.

Principal Joseph sighed heavily. "It's pretty clear you're an outsider," he said, scanning the form. "And it's a shame that you don't have any religion."

Jimin tossed the pen and sat in a cross-legged position, each move defining his egotistical persona. "I don't like people who talk unnecessarily," he said in a sharp voice. "We're not in a church but in a college, and let me tell you, it's the 21st century."

Principal Joseph leaned back in his chair, his expression a mix of surprise and irritation. He had never encountered anyone who spoke so bluntly. He folded his hands on the desk, trying to maintain his composure.

"Jimin," he began, his voice steady but firm, "This college values respect and discipline. If you're going to be part of this institution, you'll need to adjust your attitude. We don't tolerate disrespect here."

Jimin tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Respect?" he repeated, his tone almost mocking. "I respect actions, not words. And so far, I haven't seen anything worth respecting."

The principal's jaw tightened. He clenched his fist but kept his voice calm. "You're here to learn, Jimin. This is a place of growth, not confrontation. If you're not willing to adapt, perhaps this isn't the right environment for you."

Jimin leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. "Oh, I'll adapt," he said, his voice low and smooth. "But not to your rules. I have my own way of doing things."

Principal Joseph exhaled sharply, feeling the tension in the room grow thicker. He glanced at the admission form again, noting the bold, confident handwriting. "Very well," he said, deciding to shift the conversation. "I expect you to follow the guidelines and participate like any other student."

Jimin stood up, his movements graceful and deliberate. He adjusted his shirt and gave the principal a small, almost mocking smile. "I'll participate," he said, slipping one hand into his pants pocket and holding his bag with the other, his tone carrying a hint of danger. "But don't expect me to follow your rules blindly."

With his final threatening remark, Jimin turned to leave. Principal Joseph felt a chill run down his spine. He sensed something about Jimin that seemed... off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew this young man was different—and not in a good way.

"Jimin," the principal called out just as Jimin reached the door.

Jimin paused, rolled his eyes, and refused to turn around.

"Remember," Principal Joseph said, his voice firm, "This is a place of learning. Don't make me regret admitting you."

Jimin glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. "Regret is a powerful thing," he said softly. "But it's not something I lose sleep over." He added in an aggressive manner, then walked through the hallway. His deep eyes gleamed with a shade of oceanic blue. He shrugged his right shoulder, and in the blink of an eye, the chandelier swinging in the principal's office crashed to the floor.

Principal Joseph jumped up from his chair, his heart pounding as the chandelier shattered. Glass shards scattered everywhere, and the room filled with the sharp sound of breaking crystal.

He stared at the mess, his mind racing. How had this happened? The chandelier had been perfectly secure just moments ago. His hands trembled as he reached for the phone on his desk, quickly dialing the maintenance team. "Get to my office now!" he barked into the receiver, his voice shaking with panic.