[That’s right. Juju played this much better.]
Now I was being compared with the same song. Serubi, still not satisfied with that, softly jumped down onto the keyboard. With each spot he stepped on, keys were pressed, and various sounds blended and spread through the air. Serubi tilted his head and sat at a certain point, repeatedly pressing several keys with his front paws. But because he was already supporting his body on the piano, the clear sound Serubi wanted couldn’t be produced.
[This is right, but the sound is strange.]
“What are you doing?”
Serubi repeatedly pressed the keys he had been pressing.
[What you missed earlier.]
I lifted Serubi’s body, which was squishing the keys, and placed his front paws on the keyboard.
“Try playing it again.”
[This one, this one, and here.]
As I heard the piano notes slowly resonating, my heart sank. I didn’t realize it before hearing it, but now it was clear. I put Serubi down on the floor and hurriedly played the part he showed me. When I connected the forgotten measure, the music became perfect without any unnecessary elements. I got goosebumps. Serubi wasn’t lying. The piece Joo Seolhyeon played and the one I played were identical.
“How did Joo Seolhyeon…”
My father’s hobby was composing. Before meeting my mother, he worked as a music teacher, but he was better known as a composer. However, the piece I played was one he had gifted to a close friend. Since it was written for an individual, it wasn’t known to the world, and I happened to hear it when randomly selecting one of my father’s work notes.
‘Dad, why doesn’t this song have a title?’
‘Well, it was there. At that time, the protagonist of this song hadn’t been born yet.’
‘So they’ve been born now?’
‘Yes. Since I wrote this song two years before Jeongjae was born, they’d be starting elementary school by now.’
A distant memory of my conversation with my father rose like smoke. The memory buried in my subconscious felt crude, like watching a black and white TV.
‘Play this for me.’
‘I just played it, you want to hear it again?’
‘When?’
At that time, I couldn’t read sheet music, so I didn’t know what sounds those black bean sprouts clustered together would make. In my innocent childhood, I didn’t even know my father composed. Once, thinking he was always drawing the same picture, I insisted on helping him and brought crayons to color those bean sprout heads in various colors.
‘This is Jeongjae’s favorite song.’
My father burst into laughter seeing my surprised reaction.
‘Haha, I should teach our Jeongjae how to read sheet music.’
I remembered it clearly because from that point on, I occasionally received theory lessons from my father. I asked my father several times afterward who the protagonist of this song was, and I learned that it was a genius pianist named “Seo Jiwon,” who often appeared on TV and was a close friend of my father. However, I couldn’t find out about her son. Perhaps if I had taken more interest, I might have known, but a child’s curiosity doesn’t last long, and soon my attention turned elsewhere, causing me to completely forget.
‘If Joo Seolhyeon was my father’s friend’s son, it would make sense, but he could also be imitating something he heard somewhere by chance.’
I had known Joo Seolhyeon for over five years, but I knew nothing about his parents. It’s telling that I only learned he played the piano after the regression. In the past, I hovered around him, but he avoided conversations with me, and naturally, he never brought up his own stories in front of me. At first, I tried to approach him. But with someone who was often away from home, and who showed cynical attitudes and blatant hostility even on the rare occasions we met, I couldn’t persistently cling to him.
‘It was an extraordinary feeling.’
Only now did I realize how remarkable the feelings I had for him were. It was comparable to cancer cells that continuously multiply no matter how much you try to eliminate them.
[Sing for me.]
My thoughts, which had been connecting from memories with my father from over 20 years ago to recent times, stopped.
“Huh?”
[Surely you weren’t planning to sing just one song, were you? That would be stingy.]
Serubi settled back on his designated spot on the piano and spoke like an arrogant audience member.
“I can’t play other songs because I haven’t practiced them.”
After saying this, I felt like Joo Seolhyeon had stolen my favorite song. There were several other songs I liked, but that was the only one I could remember vividly even after decades had passed, which made it worse.
[I don’t mind if it’s the same song.]
Serubi confidently replied to my words as if asking what the problem was, and I nodded half-heartedly and placed my hands on the piano keys again. It was almost dinner time, and when the Guides returned, my time playing with Serubi would end. I thought it would be fine to do what Serubi asked for now, but just as I pressed the first note, there was a knock, knock at the door.
Serubi’s head shot up, his gaze turning toward the door. I also remained still without removing my hands from the piano, holding my breath.
“Who is it?”
Although I clearly heard a sound, there was no response afterward. I wondered if I had misheard and checked the energy beyond the door. Someone was standing outside.
‘Is it Joo Seolhyeon?’
I sighed. I thought everyone had left, but thinking about it, Joo Seolhyeon, who had skipped breakfast and shut himself in his room, wouldn’t have gone out as usual. When the knocking sound continued once more, I felt like I was getting a headache from stress that wasn’t even there before. There was only one reason he would come looking for me, probably because of the piece I played.
‘You heard it all.’
I was surprised when Joo Seolhyeon said he knew this piece, and I thought he must feel the same. Serubi stared at me intently.
[Aren’t you going to answer?]
His expression, as if saying he was waiting for Juju, was incredibly innocent. I was annoyed at Serubi for not sympathizing with my feelings at all, so I lightly hit the bridge of his nose and got up to open the door. My prediction was correct. Joo Seolhyeon stood there with a gloomy expression.
“What is it?”
Joo Seolhyeon’s shoulders stiffened in response to my voice. He swallowed dryly before slowly parting his lips.
“What’s your relationship with Teacher Woo Seongjun?”
I swallowed a dry laugh at his abrupt question. I vaguely suspected that he might be the son of my father’s friend, but I didn’t expect to hear my father’s name like this.
“Let’s not casually call other people’s fathers by their names.”
Joo Seolhyeon’s eyes trembled slightly in disbelief.
“You’re the teacher’s son?”
Watching his face gradually contort as if he was about to cry, I sensed that something was wrong. Joo Seolhyeon had strong pride, and even when angry, he wasn’t the type to show such a vulnerable face. After a moment’s thought, I opened the door wide.
“Come in for now. Let’s talk inside.”
I couldn’t ignore a conversation about my father, of all people. Unlike the emotionally overwhelmed Joo Seolhyeon, I allowed him into my room with a dry voice. Joo Seolhyeon entered my room docilely, showing a compliant attitude different from his usual behavior. When Joo Seolhyeon entered the room, Serubi circled around him before gently walking into his arms and lying down. I seriously considered throwing Serubi out of the room for shamelessly betraying his owner right in front of me, but seeing how Joo Seolhyeon’s troubled expression lightened because of Serubi, I decided to let it slide just for today.
“How do you know my father?”
I went straight to the point. I didn’t want to have more conversation with him than necessary, so I planned to confirm what I was curious about and then send him away.
“The teacher is.”
My father had been a music teacher only until he met my mother. It was a time before Joo Seolhyeon was even born, yet his manner of address was too natural. My suspicions only deepened about what kind of relationship they might have.
***
Joo Seolhyeon was a child born between the genius pianist “Seo Jiwon” and the B-class Guide “Joo Minchul.” Having a child at a time when she was becoming world-famous, she had to handle a grueling schedule while leaving her newborn Joo Seolhyeon with her husband. Naturally, Joo Minchul, who had relatively more spare time, took charge of childcare, but given his personality, he couldn’t stay at home for long. He loved his wife and the piano she played, but he was also someone who valued his own work just as much.
If they hadn’t had a child, they might have been able to build their careers while having a marriage that felt like dating, but unfortunately, their marriage was hastily arranged when Seo Jiwon became pregnant with a child before either of them was prepared.
Seo Jiwon trusted Joo Minchul with their child, but he hired a babysitter to raise the child. He was frequently absent from home, and Joo Seolhyeon was raised by someone else’s hands for two years under his parents’ neglect.
Seo Jiwon, completely unaware of this fact, arrived at the airport after finishing an overseas concert. Originally, she was supposed to stay a few more days, but the concert ended earlier than scheduled due to the organizers’ circumstances. Since Joo Minchul never came to pick her up, using childcare and housework as excuses, she headed home thinking her husband would be there this time as well.
“Who are you?”
Upon opening the door lock and entering the house, she saw an unfamiliar woman holding her child. Seo Jiwon suspected her husband of infidelity, but quickly cleared up her misunderstanding when she confirmed that the woman before her was a registered babysitter.
“I’ve worked here for two years, but this is the first time I’ve met you, ma’am.”
From the babysitter’s casually tossed remark, Seo Jiwon could immediately grasp the situation.
“Not just today, but for two years?”
She couldn’t understand her husband, who had hired a babysitter to take care of their child for a full two years without consulting her, but thinking he must have had his reasons, she attempted to talk with him that night.
“Are you crazy? A dedicated Guide contract? Does that even make sense? Seolhyeon is only 3 years old.”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
