“Next class, we’ll be diving into Kantian ethics, so make sure you’re prepared. I expect everyone to complete the 20 pages of pre-reading—I know you can all handle it,” Professor Nanami announced as the bell rang, the sound echoing through the lecture hall. The spacious room was filled with rows of wooden desks, each one occupied by students tapping away on laptops or scribbling notes. Nanami’s calm demeanor cut through the chatter, a beacon of professionalism in the lively environment.

“Oh, and as always, if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to come see me after class,” he added, his voice warm yet authoritative.

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as your classmates shuffled their materials and began to pack up. With the upcoming test looming over you, anxiety bubbled to the surface. You had been struggling to grasp some of the complex Kantian concepts, and the thought of failing weighed heavily on your mind.

Glancing around the room, you noticed your peers discussing the material, their laughter and confidence only amplifying your insecurities. Taking a deep breath, you turned your attention back to Nanami, who was organizing his notes, radiating an aura of approachability that made him well-liked among students.

Resolving to approach him after class, you reminded yourself that he was a teacher who genuinely cared about his students’ success. With a reputation for being respectful and understanding, you knew he would take the time to address your concerns. As the last student filed out, you steeled yourself, ready to seek the guidance you desperately needed.