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# 1. Spring, Once Again
Among the streets of Samcheong-dong lined with small galleries, there was one building that stood out for its size.
The first floor was a café with a striking modern interior, while the upper floors had been turned into exhibition halls, creating a multi-purpose cultural space.
Having closed earlier than usual, the venue gradually filled with guests holding invitation cards.
<2050 SH F&B Hyeseong Residence Emerging Artists Exhibition>
SH F&B had been actively supporting emerging artists in the field of fine arts through various programs.
Having risen as a powerful newcomer in the food service industry by operating numerous franchise brands, the company also owned this gallery café as one of its businesses.
"Excuse me, this..."
"Your invitation has been confirmed. This way, please."
The opening event had invited not only the artists' acquaintances but also guests from all walks of life.
Among them were several students who looked around awkwardly, clearly unfamiliar with such an atmosphere.
"Hey, there's a brochure."
"Thanks. Wow, look at how photogenic Jinha hyung is. He really quit drinking and focused only on painting. He actually made it."
"Every time I come here, I feel like the CEO genuinely loves art."
"What are you talking about?"
"Look around. Do you know how expensive rent is in this neighborhood? Even filling all three floors with customers wouldn't be enough, yet they gave up two entire floors just for exhibitions."
"I heard the competition to exhibit here is insane too. The rental fee is practically nothing. Every time I come to a place like this, I feel motivated to work harder..."
One of the students, distracted by the conversation, bumped into a man walking past.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's alright."
The middle-aged man smiled kindly at the students while straightening his clothes.
Not only from the way he was dressed but also from his demeanor, he carried the relaxed confidence unique to someone who had achieved success.
"You all look like students. Art majors?"
"Yes. Artist Moon Jinha sent us invitations..."
"Ah, Jinha. He's got talent. Once I locked him up in the residence and kept him away from alcohol, his work started progressing at an incredible pace."
"Pardon?"
"Ah, listen to me. I rarely get the chance to talk to students these days, so I got a little excited."
The man took out his business card and handed it to them.
The students' eyes widened as soon as they read it.
<SH F&B CEO Kim Seungho>
"I hope you all enjoy yourselves today. The refreshments are over there. They're products made by our company, so I'd appreciate your support."
Leaving behind the stunned students, who could only stare blankly at the business card, Kim Seungho headed upstairs to the exhibition hall.
The invited guests already browsing the exhibition hurried toward him one after another.
"President Kim! Have you been well?"
"This year's emerging artists exhibition certainly lives up to expectations."
"How do you always manage to discover such brilliant young artists?"
Even the proud figures of the art world treated Kim Seungho with a degree of respect.
Not only had he consistently invested in the art world on a scale rivaling major conglomerates as the CEO of a mid-sized company...
He also possessed enough knowledge and charisma to win over even the most stubborn veteran artists.
"Oh, President Kim. This is our first time meeting since we greeted each other briefly in Hong Kong."
Because he treated everyone warmly regardless of status, there were just as many people who approached him acting overly familiar.
This novice collector, hiding less-than-pure intentions behind his smile, was one of them.
"Vice President Choi, right? We met at that auction before."
"You remembered me. Thank you for inviting me. I'd love to arrange a proper meeting with you sometime soon."
"That sounds good. I'll check my schedule and..."
"Or perhaps you could visit our home instead. I heard you graduated from the Korea Arts Gifted School, didn't you? My youngest just entered the first year of the Fine Arts Department there. As a senior, I'd appreciate it if you could give the child some advice."
Kim Seungho smiled bitterly to himself.
Just like how the man had boldly purchased expensive paintings at the auction, he certainly had enthusiasm.
Yet he hadn't even bothered to properly research the person he was trying to win over.
"Thanks to you, so many alumni of the Korea Arts Gifted School have spread their wings. With that in mind, I'd really like to hear your thoughts on where the art world is headed..."
"Oh, come on. Let's talk about that later."
A man standing beside Vice President Choi, apparently one of his acquaintances, quickly jabbed him in the side.
But seeing that he still had no idea what was wrong, the man finally whispered the truth.
"President Kim didn't graduate from the Korea Arts Gifted School."
"What? But I was sure I'd heard that..."
Vice President Choi alternated between staring at his acquaintance and Kim Seungho with a horrified expression.
Feeling that the man might flee the art world forever from sheer embarrassment if left alone, Kim Seungho approached him with a forgiving smile.
"I graduated from a Science Gifted School. My family home just happened to be near the Korea Arts Gifted School."
"Ah... I sincerely apologize. I embarrassed myself by repeating something I'd only heard in passing."
"It's alright. It happens. A lot of people get confused."
The misunderstanding had begun around the time he first started his artist support programs.
People assumed that unless he had been an alumnus, there was no way someone would have invested in the art world so consistently long before becoming famous and expanding his business.
Watching Vice President Choi hastily disappear with his acquaintance, Kim Seungho turned his gaze back to the exhibition.
Following his philosophy of respecting each artist's individuality, works of various genres and styles were displayed throughout the hall.
"President Kim... Ah, you're appreciating the artwork."
"If it's something important, let's talk later. We've got the after-party coming up anyway."
"You must be so proud. They're all artists you nurtured yourself."
The works of young artists filled with passion and individuality.
The people whispering as they watched Kim Seungho stroll between them failed to notice one thing.
The fleeting trace of regret that crossed his face.
---
After the opening event and the after-party had ended,
it was already close to midnight by the time Kim Seungho returned home.
"I'm back."
He headed toward the kitchen, where the lights were still on.
His mother, who was approaching seventy, was quietly sipping alcohol by herself without even any proper side dishes.
Instead of giving the pointless lecture he always did, he simply sat across from her.
"Did the event go well?"
"Yes. More or less."
"I see..."
She murmured before tilting the bottle once more.
Kim Seungho was nearly forty, yet every time he saw her like this, the thought of moving out disappeared.
If even he left, it was obvious what would become of his mother living alone.
"I guess people really are born with certain destinies. Just look at what you've become."
His mother had spent many years in the legal profession.
Even while drunk, she never lost her dignity.
But on nights when she drank too much, she would occasionally bring up the distant past.
"When you said you wanted to become an artist, I was the one who opposed it... That's why you could never completely let it go. I should've just let you do what you wanted..."
Growing up near the Korea Arts Gifted School, Kim Seungho had briefly dreamed of becoming a painter.
Although he accepted his mother's harsh view of reality and turned his focus toward academics,
it seemed that, to her, his current involvement in the art world looked like he was still chasing the dream he had never achieved.
He had already told her countless times not to think that way.
Giving up art to attend a Science Gifted School and later an engineering college...
Then inheriting his father's restaurant and entering the food industry when his father's health suddenly deteriorated before graduation.
In the end, every one of those decisions had been his own.
There had been plenty of chances to turn back.
"That's enough. You should get some sleep."
Instead of comforting her and telling her not to blame herself, he left only those words before standing up.
Partly because he had grown tired of repeating himself over the years.
But more than anything...
he couldn't honestly say her words were completely wrong.
Click.
The room furthest from the rest of the house.
When he switched on the light, it was filled with the remnants of a dream he had never abandoned.
Paintings.
Paintings.
And more paintings.
Eastern and Western art, two-dimensional and sculptural works, studies and original creations.
Countless pieces were scattered without any order, giving the room a chaotic atmosphere.
"I should be able to paint for about two hours tonight."
Stepping over the scattered practice sketches, Kim Seungho sat before the canvas he was currently working on.
Recently, company matters and the artist support programs had consumed his schedule, so despite having started it nearly a month ago, the painting had barely progressed.
The canvas on the easel depicted the moment of emerging from a tunnel.
It was a landscape carefully portraying the mysterious sensation of darkness collapsing beneath an overwhelming flood of light.
After painstakingly adding details despite his exhausted body, Kim Seungho stood back and examined the painting.
"The outside looks finished enough..."
Even in his own eyes, the technical execution wasn't bad.
It had already been well over ten years since he built this studio and seriously devoted himself to painting.
His skill had long surpassed what could simply be called a hobby.
Even so...
he could never catch up to those who devoted their entire lives to painting.
Especially on days like today, after seeing the works of gifted young artists.
If it had been them,
how would they have filled this canvas?
At the very least, they probably wouldn't have covered the center with such dull, conventional white light just to create contrast with the darkness.
"Was that why?"
Several years ago, he had shown one of his paintings to a veteran artist he deeply respected.
Feeling too embarrassed to admit it was his own work, he had claimed it belonged to his nephew.
"If regret lingers for too long, it slowly eats away at a person, Seungho."
From the fact that he himself had painted it...
to the fact that he had never truly abandoned his longing for art.
Those few words saw straight through everything.
Kim Seungho had been unable to offer even a single rebuttal.
If only he had been a little braver,
perhaps what the old master saw in his painting would not have been regret...
but possibility.
If he had attended a different school instead of the Science Gifted School, where he lived in a dormitory under a brutal schedule that left no time to paint.
Or at the very least...
if he had freely devoted himself to painting after suddenly gaining freedom at the age of twenty.
Trying to suppress the emotions quietly rising within him, Kim Seungho slowly closed his eyes.
"I'm just tired, that's all."
He cleaned up his workspace and headed for the bedroom.
He was old enough now.
And just as exhausted.
He knew that the bitterness of looking back on an unfulfilled dream...
would fade after a single night's sleep.
"Mmm..."
Even on nights when he reassured himself like that before falling asleep,
he would sometimes find himself face to face with his past in his dreams.
"Son, are you asleep? You stayed up late again last night, didn't you?"
Perhaps it had been carried over from the painting he had been working on before bed.
The first scene of the dream took place inside a car speeding through a tunnel.
His lips were damp with drool.
A faint vibration came through the seat beneath him.
And a voice he would never hear again.
Never before had he realized so vividly that he was inside a dream.
Kim Seungho answered with a faint smile.
"Yeah. I've been pretty busy lately."
"Busy looking at weird things, I hope not?"
"I was painting before going to bed. What about you, Father? How have you been lately?"
Turning his head, Kim Seungho looked toward the driver's seat.
His father appeared to be in his mid-forties.
This was before illness had worn him down.
His face was still healthy and full.
His father tilted his head in confusion.
"Painting? Didn't you quit painting quite a while ago?"
At that moment, the car emerged from the tunnel, and brilliant light flooded the windshield.
As soon as Kim Seungho opened his eyes after briefly shutting them against the glare,
his mouth fell open.
It was winter.
Snowflakes gently landed on the car ahead before being swept away by the wind.
He had definitely turned on the air conditioner before going to sleep, yet somehow it had felt warm.
Now he could vividly feel the heated air inside the car and the warmth of the seat heater beneath him.
"We'll be there soon, so if you're sleepy, get some more rest. Your mother won't be home until tonight after work and dinner."
Only then did Kim Seungho notice his own reflection in the side mirror.
He pinched his smooth, wrinkle-free cheek with all his strength.
"Ow."
Waiting at the end of the long tunnel was neither heaven nor hell.
It was himself...
from the days before he had ever had the chance to bloom.