TL: KSD
I admit it.
Gu Yu-na’s emotions are slightly…
Oh, ever so slightly…
Not normal.
But that doesn’t an Gu Yu-na lacks intelligence.
She is an intelligent novelist. Gu Yu-na’s literature is smart literature. The intricacy of her plots is sothing that’s hard to imitate.
Let’s not forget: Gu Yu-na made her na with detective novels.
Anyway, the Gu Yu-na I know is rational and wise. She just uses that brilliant intelligence in a slightly eccentric way. My Yu-na doesn’t bite people. Probably.
That’s why, as much as I trust Gu Yu-na’s intelligence, I was equally shocked by her ‘odd behavior’.
Her repeated attempts to secure the seat next to ? Understandable. A child overshadowed by a brilliant sibling and neglected by her mother might cling to her friends.
Constantly splitting her snacks in half to share with ? Insisting on taking selfies with cat filters? Also understandable in the sa context.
But taking off the yellow furry hoodie?
Now that’s sothing beyond Gu Yu-na’s range of capabilities.
Dressing up in the sleek outfits trendy among today’s young people is sothing only the perfected version of Gu Yu-na, who’s absorbed all the knowledge of the universe, could pull off.
Yeah.
Not the Gu Yu-na sitting next to now,
but the ‘Yu-na’ I left behind in my mories.
Only ‘Yu-na’ could perfectly pretend to be an ordinary person.
Even though the two are technically the sa person, this was sothing that couldn’t happen in reality.
“Haah…”
As my emotions subsided, my reason returned.
The suspicious actions of the kids from the Creative Writing Departnt today, the sly giggles of the girls surrounding Gu Yu-na, and Gu Yu-na’s awkward fidgeting with her clothes…
All those clues pointed to this entire ordeal being so elaborate “prank” by the third-year students from the Creative Writing Departnt.
But reason and emotion belong to separate realms.
I couldn’t help but see ‘Yu-na’ in the casually dressed ‘Gu Yu-na’ sitting next to , not in her yellow furry hoodie, but in stylish casual clothes.
The mory of her stirred sothing within .
The emotions of that first realization when we saw each other as more than friends.
The softness of our fingers intertwined in the darkness of a movie theater.
The literary exchanges that felt like sharing halves of our souls.
Ten years of dating.
And then…
– This isn’t… breaking up.
– …
– You’re abandoning .
Abandonnt. And being abandoned.
The painfully twisted expression…
That expression from that day.
“Ah.”
All the buried pain locked away in gray photographs ca alive again.
EP 10 – Starry Sky
Indigo twilight painted the sky. The clouds caught the last rays of the setting sun, and the wind carried the chill of the night. Nature’s clock declared that the day had co to an end.
“Aigoo…”
It had been an exhausting day.
Too much had happened.
Gyeongju World Cultural Expo, Gyeongju World, Gyeongju bread…
And Gyeongju, Gyeongju, Gyeongju…
It felt like I’d toured every single “Gyeongju-sothing” this world had to offer.
And that wasn’t an exaggeration. Gyeongju was a well-known destination for school trips, and as a result, the travel itineraries felt very standardized.
It was less of a historic tourist destination and more like an artificial attraction designed to cater to the kids who visit on school trips every year. Beside the relics of the thousand-year-old Silla Dynasty, you could sense the city governnt’s determined efforts to draw tourists in every detail.
What truly made uncomfortable, however, wasn’t the itinerary but my companion.
I’d never felt so uncomfortable around Gu Yu-na before. She was supposed to be my reliable other half!
– That experience hall… Shall we go in together?
– How about you try going alone?
– That wasn’t a question.
– I’ll feed you this. Say ah~.
– That’s a bit…
– Open your mouth.
– Let’s stand in line here to take pictures.
– The line is too long…
– That wasn’t a suggestion; it was a statent.
It was truly a horrifying and dreadful experience.
However, what’s even more terrifying is the fact that I can’t distinguish whether the mories I’m recalling are from today or from decades ago.
Are the mories I’m bringing up from my ti with ‘Yu-na’, or are they with ‘Gu Yu-na’? The two existences, barely held together by vague resolve, feel as if they’re slowly separating. It’s the tornt of a ti traveler.
I’ve always feared Gu Yu-bin, who resembled ‘Yu-na’. But not anymore. Now, I’m far more terrified of ‘Gu Yu-na’, who resembles ‘Yu-na’.
Gu Yu-na, dressed in sleek casual clothes, pierced through my psyche just by being there. I could see the sins I had committed.
Who is this person standing before ?
“Haa…”
Every ti I felt this kind of disconnection, it seed as if I were taking a step away from reality.
Even so, I’ve been trying not to recognize myself as a ti traveler.
The experience of going backward through ti is excessively surreal. I fear the transcendent who comprehends ten years of this human world because it makes feel like a pathetic fly trapped in the palm of Buddha’s hand.
The circumstances that threw into the gaps of ti, the anxiety that this world might be nothing more than an illusion, all of it terrifies .
It’s only because literature remains constant that I anchor myself in this world, using it as both my lighthouse and my anchor…
But sotis, even that foundation wavers.
And the one who shakes so profoundly is clearly ‘Gu Yu-na’ wearing the guise of ‘Yu-na’. The two beings from different tilines overlapping exhausts just by looking at them.
This is the guilt of a ti traveler who can’t trust the world. And also…
No.
Let’s stop the self-flagellation here.
What’s important is that this ordeal is almost over.
The school trip is three days and two nights, and tonight is the second night.
That ans I’ll be ho tomorrow.
“Good. I’ll be ho tomorrow.”
I mumbled to myself, trying to pull myself together, but inadvertently ended up causing trouble for so passersby.
“What…!”
“Huh.”
“Oh.”
The cheerful and chatty students walking past suddenly deflated, wilting like spinach left in the sun.
They looked just like office workers on a Sunday evening…
“Ughhh…”
“So, it ends tomorrow…”
“I know… but did you really have to remind us, you cruel bastard…”
Looking back, Park Chang-woon rarely gave literary advice. Not because he wasn’t a great novelist or teacher, but probably because I was already too stubborn and twisted as a writer.
However, Park Chang-woon taught a lot about life’s attitude, and taking a page from his teachings, I chanted the magical phrase, “So what?” and ran away.
“Phew…!”
By shalessly running off, I managed to avoid feeling guilt about having shattered the innocent middle schoolers’ spirits. Thank you, Park Chang-woon.
But the obstacles I had to face weren’t over yet…
“Kids! Gather at the auditorium!”
“Woohoo!”
Because the highlight of the school trip, the talent show, was still ahead.
* * *
The main event of the school trip was, without a doubt, the talent show. Especially at an arts school.
It wasn’t unusual for talent show performances from arts middle and high schools to be uploaded to YouTube and rack up hundreds of thousands of views.
At a school that teaches the arts, “stage experience” wasn’t just a casual pasti. It was a significant part of their education, and the school strongly encouraged it.
This was why Baekhak Arts Middle School insisted on school trips being organized by grade, not by class.
In any case, the talent show stage that the school, the teachers, and the students all anticipated was of an impressively high standard.
The piano, vocal music, orchestral, and wind instrunt departnts would often join forces to form an orchestra.
anwhile, the fiercely independent practical music departnt would form a rock band.
The Korean dance and ballet departnts? No need to even ntion them. What more explanation is needed when performance artists take the stage?
Even the theater and film departnt would screen films they’d spent weeks preparing, and sotis they’d collaborate with the music departnt to perform musicals.
And as for our proud Creative Writing Departnt…!
“I will recite a poem.”
Of course, it’s poetry recitation.
“…”
“…”
“…”
A chilling silence engulfed the auditorium.
This was because, in today’s world, it’s hard to find people who enjoy poetry.
Isn’t it said that poetry books are only bought by poets themselves these days?
“In Japan, there is a traditional poetic form called haiku. It is the shortest poetic form in the world and is considered a form of lyrical literature. Regrettably, it is far more renowned globally than Korea’s traditional literature.”
Despite the cold silence, the student standing at the podium spoke with dignity-no, with literary dignity.
Surprisingly, the presenter on stage was none other than the indecisive, stamring class president who had once been swept up in the Soccer Club’s coup.
I couldn’t quite recall his na, but his perpetually timid deanor left a strong impression. Seeing him speak so confidently on stage was nothing short of astonishing.
The class president went on to calmly explain how Japan’s haiku gained global recognition, the simplicity that captivated Western literary figures and philosophers, and its influence on modern Arican society.
This all took just three minutes.
And it was the Creative Writing Departnt’s turn to go first in the talent show lineup.
That’s right.
In just three minutes, the class president managed to decimate the entire third-year cohort of Baekhak Arts Middle School, who had been buzzing with excitent over the talent show.
The middle schoolers, who had seed ready to burst with energy at any mont, sank under the weight of a brief lecture on literary history.
Amidst the icy silence, so oppressive that even yawning would require caution,
the class president finally wrapped up his lengthy prelude and began to dive into the main topic.
“On that note, I will recite a few haikus that capture the essence of Korean sentint. I hope you enjoy them. Ahem…”
And then,
just as the class president was about to recite his haiku—
“Graaaghhh!”
A zombie leapt out from the audience and bit into the class president’s neck!
As screams erupted from the crowd, the class president, with a stream of crimson liquid spurting from his neck, let out an adorable shriek and collapsed to the floor.
“Eek!”
The zombie, having devoured the class president in a brutal display, stood on stage, catching its breath as it looked down at the audience.
Click! The lights went out.
Darkness consud the auditorium.
When the lights ca back on, they were dim and red, reminiscent of blood.
Under the blood-like glow,
dozens of zombies had appeared on stage.
And then, a heavy dubstep beat began to play!
Kyaaaak-!
The audience, realizing what was happening, erupted into cheers as the dancers in zombie makeup started moving to the occult-thed electric beats.
That’s right.
This was Baekhak Arts Middle School’s ultimate ace:
The stage of the Practical Music Departnt.
“Class president…! Great job!”
“Sniff… I worked so hard on those haikus, but I didn’t even get to recite them. I was supposed to read them before getting bitten…”
Watching the class president slink off the stage to join the Creative Writing Departnt’s seats, it beca clear this was all part of a planned performance.
Of course, without careful planning, there’s no way such a seamless transition between acts would have been possible. The performance was nearly professional in quality.
And that’s no exaggeration.
One look at the stage said it all.
“So… is that it for us?”
“Well, it’s the Creative Writing Departnt. What did you expect? Just grab so popcorn.”
Unlike the Creative Writing Departnt, the weakest link in the talent show, the Practical Dance Departnt kids were absolutely killing it on stage.
At so point, police officers rushed in to subdue the zombies, joining the fray with choreography that resembled an intense battle scene.
The nickna of Baekhak Arts Middle School and Baekhak Arts High School naturally ca to mind:
‘The Idol Training Academy.’
The two schools under the Baekhak Arts Foundation weren’t exactly prestigious. They were relatively new institutions with little history, relying solely on their financial resources to get by.
However, under the influence of Baekhak Entertainnt and its trainees, the Baekhak Arts Foundation had transford into a cca for idol trainees.
There are so many aspiring idols that the school’s leadership is practically desperate to recruit students pursuing fine arts instead of popular arts.
But to put it another way, this ans Baekhak Arts Middle School is already at the top in the field of popular arts.
Only the most talented kids are accepted into Baekhak Arts Middle School’s Practical Dance Departnt, where a faculty with more expertise than any other school trains these young geniuses and prodigies.
As a result, the performances of Baekhak Arts Middle School’s Practical Dance Departnt had already reached a professional level.
“Hmm…”
In other words, from an adult’s perspective, their performances could seem excessively provocative and improper.
That’s how it looked to as well.
To borrow Gu Hak-jun’s words to describe their performance: it’s the extre union of capitalism and sexualism. That was his assessnt of the idol industry.
Of course, as a university professor, Gu Hak-jun phrased it more diplomatically, but to put it bluntly, he was essentially calling it a business where people make money by dancing in skimpy outfits.
I have to admit that I used to think the sa way.
The image of a middle school dance team performing in crop tops and hot pants in front of my eyes now certainly went against conventional societal norms.
In the past, the spirit of the traditional scholar buried deep in my DNA would have awakened, and I would have unconsciously frowned.
This is inappropriate behavior for kids their age.
But now, it’s different.
Having spent nearly three years with one foot in the entertainnt industry and at Baekhak Arts Middle School, I’ve co to see things differently.
Those kids aren’t just dancing in crop tops and hot pants.
They’re dancing in crop tops and hot pants while grinding their knee joints to dust and performing routines that take over ten hours to morize.
And the reason is obvious, they’re doing it to achieve their dreams.
And that, for their age, is a comndable thing.
The provocation on stage isn’t a result of the students’ own deviant behavior.
It’s simply because their role models, the people they aspire to beco, present themselves that way.
And those role models, the idols, didn’t adopt that provocative image on their own. It was because the audience, the public, wanted it.
Therefore, it’s incredibly unfair for the sa audience, who demanded these elents, to criticize the perforrs for them. Isn’t it hypocritical to complain about sothing they themselves asked for?
Of course, the immaturity of kids who are eager to grow up quickly might contribute to it in so way.
But the primary reason, as always, is their dreams.
As a fellow artist, I can no longer bring myself to criticize these students for their passion as they chase after their aspirations.
But now, I see sothing else.
Noticing my gaze, Gu Yu-na, sitting next to , asked,
“Why are you watching so intently?”
She was asking if I enjoyed watching the Dance Departnt kids perform.
I could have feigned embarrassnt to give Gu Yu-na a mont of laughter.
But I wasn’t in the mood for jokes right now.
“How many of them do you think will actually achieve their dreams?”
“…”
Gu Yu-na answered coldly, but with unflinching accuracy.
“If even one of them makes it, it’ll be a miracle.”
*****
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