Classroom Broadcast of Shame
I wanted to slam my head into the classroom floor right then and there, hearing that song blaring through the speakers. It wasn't coming from my computer's speakers—it was playing over the school's broadcast system, which made it feel strangely different. Every time ERU's high notes pierced through the school PA, it felt like my sanity was shattering into pieces.
"Whoa... they actually played something like this in school."
Every whisper from around me filled me with unbearable shame. Luckily, no one knew I was the creator of this track, but as its maker, it felt like my own child was being stripped naked and judged by everyone.
"This is... what a Vocaloid program sounds like, huh. Not as bad as I thought..."
Jisu's casual assessment, oblivious to my inner turmoil, only made me blush harder. It was this weird sensation—like the lonely office worker's life had completely overshadowed mine until now, but suddenly, feelings as Lee Haru were bubbling up pure and strong.
"Haa... I really wanna die."
"No dying allowed. Why would our Haru even say that?"
-Squeeze.
Jisu looked at me with my head in her hands and pulled me into her embrace like an invitation. The sweet peach scent enveloped my entire body.
-Sniff sniff.
"Pfft. What the heck, Haru... you're such a perv."
I felt like I was getting addicted to that peach smell. Jisu tucked me into her arms and started sharing her thoughts on the now-playing Chulhang. But I didn't even have the energy to respond to her.
'I don't want to think about anything...'
Thanks to school rules, the phone I'd handed in for morning homeroom was locked away in the teachers' office. I desperately wanted to open NewTube Studio right now and permanently block the comments, but instead of my phone, my hands were groping Jisu's thighs inside her embrace.
Normally, the lonely guy's memories would make even light skinship feel off-putting, but for some reason, it didn't bother me at all this time.
'Just end the song already...'
Contrary to my desperate wish, Chulhang barreled toward its highlight section.
"Eww... it's too robotic for my taste."
Forcing myself to collect real-time feedback from the class, I closed my eyes in Jisu's arms. It wasn't like I was cheating or anything, but it felt like cold daggers were flying at me.
And amid it all, that comment saying "stiff" popped into my head. If even Japanese folks, for whom Vocaloid is mainstream, found it stiff, how rigid would it sound to regular people? I couldn't even imagine.
The bell finally rang, ending lunch and halting the torturous music.
"Phew... I can breathe again."
As I slipped out of Jisu's arms, she gave a slightly disappointed look. Wednesday's 5th and 6th periods were club time. There were tons of clubs, but mine and Jisu's was the reading club.
If the lonely guy's memories had come before picking clubs, I might've tried band or something, but since I'd chosen it beforehand, there was no changing it. Plus, Jisu hated playing instruments in bands anyway, so we might not have ended up together.
Still, reading club wasn't bad. You could chill with a book for two periods straight until school ended.
The bell for the next class rang, and I grabbed Jisu's hand, heading to the school library to pick out books. They weren't just sorted by Dewey numbers—there were school-specific codes too.
I'll Monopolize It All for Myself
'...What kind of novels are these?'
The library had a ton of novels clustered under some unique school tag called "Monopoly." No wonder—our school was in a ritzy neighborhood, so the library was huge compared to normal ones, and they'd order pretty much anything except straight-up adult novels.
The common thread with all the Monopoly books? Their covers had faces that looked downright creepy. So I ditched the Monopoly tag and headed to the regular literature section.
"Jisu, anything good?"
"Hmm... Even So, I'll Monopolize or whatever. It's pretty fun—it's even got a remake. That's what I'm reading~"
"Fun?"
"Yeah, so far. Especially the part where she revives at her own funeral and starts monopolizing..."
Ugh... another Monopoly one. With those creepy faces on the covers, the stories probably started weird too. No matter what, books with "Monopoly" in the title just looked off from the jump—I couldn't pick them up.
Even scouring for something readable, nothing grabbed me, so I browsed the world literature collection shelf.
'The classics are all the same, huh?'
The major works, like the world literature anthologies from the lonely guy's memories, were pretty much identical. But of all things, no songs? It really felt like some gods were messing with me. In the end, after two periods of just skimming titles and ditching my no-Monopoly resolve, I picked up Isekai Black-Haired Monopoly.
The novel stuck to first-person throughout, with this subtle madness that made it fun, but the spice level was so high I wondered if it belonged in a school library.
Finally, classes ended. Right after homeroom, I snatched my phone faster than anyone, turned it on while heading to clean with Jisu. Those few seconds felt like an eternity.
The screen lit up with NewTube alerts and more, but no time to read.
"Gasp...!"
The views had skyrocketed, but I ignored it and dove into comments, boldly blocking the male Im Jungyeon. Appreciating him requesting the song was one thing—this was another.
'Phew...'
Blocking the account brought instant relief.
"Whatcha looking at, Haru?"
"Eek?!"
Jisu rested her chin on my shoulder, making a weird noise slip out. We hurried to clean.
Jisu kept trying to peek at my phone, but my ironclad defense made her give up with a shrug.
"I'll go get the teacher~"
We half-assed the cleaning, and while Jisu fetched the teacher, a NewTube alert pinged. I glanced at my screen.
'Hmm... block this one too?'
I held off on blocking for now. Jisu returned with the teacher, who gave our sloppy work a quick once-over, declared it "pass," and headed back to the office.
"You looked so down at lunch, but now you're all perky staring at your phone? Our Jisu... phone addict?"
"Ah... just the alerts."
I gave a wry smile at her teasing. I kinda resented whoever requested my song to confess to Jisu, but weirdly, it felt like my Lee Haru self had awakened because of it.
'Have I been too caught up in the lonely guy's memories all this time?'
It made sense. Lee Haru was 17 in Korean years—high school freshman. And memories fade over time, so it wasn't a full 17 years anyway.
But the lonely guy was pushing 30, and while limited to J-pop stuff, every emotion, note, and beat was packed in perfectly.
Comparing Haru's half-forgotten 17 years to the guy's full life plus hyper-detailed J-pop knowledge? No contest—the latter dominated.
'Heh... like getting hit with that monk's mind-reading technique from the novel: "Your true identity is within five fingers."'
Lee Haru got completely buried under the lonely guy, so my sense of self leaned toward his memories over hers.
But today's mess cleared my head. Recreating J-pop from his memories was his dream—not mine as Lee Haru.
I decide my identity.
'But I'll still finish it.'
It started as his wish, but now the act of recreating itself was fun.
I resolved right then. Up to now, my lack of confidence had me hiding behind Vocaloid software. Not anymore.
I knew quitting before even trying to sing live was pathetic. I pulled up internet shopping and snagged a mic.
₩56,900
I had zero expert knowledge on mics, but the "for broadcasting and recording" description sold me. Allowance was still good, so why not?
'Whew... let's give it a shot.'
Of course, the song's intensity meant it'd be noisy, so weekend when parents were out. But I had confidence—I'd make the MR, sing over it, edit, done. Finally, it felt like I'd found my true self as Lee Haru.