Non-Existent Memories
Everyone acts to eat and survive. But modern people don't stop there. With their own greed, once they've secured a basic living, they chase something better, eventually becoming the head of a household.
In that sense, I consider myself a happy family man. A winner among men with a fox-like wife and a rabbit-like daughter. My job is even art director for a famous game—I'm the perfect specimen of middle-aged manhood. My name is Lee Suhyeon.
One worry aside...
"Pardon? Because of the director's game promise, I need to practice dancing, and you want to practice together? Even so... two guys in our forties dancing? The users would like it... they would?"
This game's lead director, Shin—no, Kim Changseon, has some outrageous demands, but aside from that, I have no real complaints. Honestly, even if I did, my art director salary solves everything.
What kind of dance practice for two guys in their forties...?
Of course, work keeps me so busy I barely spend time with my rabbit-like daughter and fox-like wife—that's a fatal flaw. I want to take my daughter out somewhere, but with a major update looming, I can't, and that frustrates me.
"Ahem... I'm coming in."
Just as I pondered how to go out with my rabbit-like Haru and fox-like wife, Haru's voice rang out.
-Creeeak.
The creaking door revealed Haru, and my eyes shook like there was an earthquake. It was the face of someone witnessing something impossible.
"Daaad... I have a faaavor to ask..."
-Thud.
Haru, who hadn't set foot in my room since starting high school... was wearing those fluffy cat pajamas I bought her years ago that she'd never touched. Her usual indifferent gaze was gone, replaced by sparkling, storybook-princess eyes as she puffed her cheeks, staring up at me.
Fatal... to the heart.
How could I refuse those sparkling eyes? I couldn't even guess what her request was. But seeing her like this, how could I say no?
"Uh... yeah! What's up with our Haru... no, just tell me! Want something? New phone? Or the latest gaming PC?"
I guessed based on my ideas of what she'd want, but Haru just fidgeted, looking at me. Yeah... for that cute Haru, I'd gladly hand over my own computer worth nearly 9 million won. It sucked I couldn't record this moment.
"Not thaaat..."
The more she wheedled, the more my heart ached. She hadn't been this cutesy since elementary—no, middle school. Is this why they say daughters are better than sons? I thought seriously and pressed on.
"Okay, what is it? Spill! As long as it's not illegal, I'll do it!"
"Then... can you help with guardian authentication pleeease..."
Guardian authentication—like for game sign-ups? Anyway, such an earnest plea deserved a yes. Haru grabbed my arm and dragged me to her room.
Ugh...
Haru, who'd banned everyone but Mom from her room since high school, was inviting me in... Her computer screen showed the guardian authentication page. The more I looked, the weirder it seemed—not your standard one.
Hmm... needs family registry proof too?
If it required family relations certification, it wasn't a typical game signup. Games often just needed legal adult verification from a parent. This complexity didn't add up. Occupational hazard—I spotted programs Haru had installed outside the site.
This... isn't it the program for making game BGM?
I'm art, not media, so I just knew it made background music. Other programs were in Japanese—vocal programs, but as a near-ignorant normie, I couldn't tell.
"See... to protect the music I made, I need parental consent..."
Then it clicked. Mom hates anything needing parental okay, so she asked me.
No big deal. A bit—okay, pretty annoying with the family registry issuance, but for my daughter, worth it.
Wait... no way?
Suddenly, non-existent memories flooded Lee Suhyeon's brain.
*
In the ever-peaceful game company in Pangyo, in the office building for the game I manage. Finally promoted to lead director as desired, I sipped tea leisurely.
"Ahem... Who knew dancing with the former lead director would lead to promotion."
Today was new hire day. As lead director, managing operations matters, but personally handling onboarding, helping adaptation, and assigning roles is key.
Reaching lead director meant I could aim for executive before retirement. This game pulls 40% of company revenue—leading it was tacit approval for exec status.
Heard a high-school grad special hire for media. Personally, I wasn't thrilled about degree-less hires, but with Haru prepping for jobs, I'd love if she got one too. Then I met the newbie and realized.
"Hello. New hire Lee Haru. Daaad... I mean, Lead Director."
The delusion ended. Lee Suhyeon gripped his trembling hand.
Close call.
That brain glitch conjured my ideal future. Still, surprising she'd care so much about my work.
"Alright! Dad'll handle it!"
"Yay! You're the best!"
*
Kyahhh! Heavens above!
I'm so embarrassed right now. Wheedling like that—mortifying even without male memories, but with them, it's insane.
"Alright! Dad'll handle it!"
"Yay! You're the best!"
Finally... success. Got legal guardian consent via aegyo blackmail. Not like owing chicken from a bet, but still a win.
"Ahem... Dad'll sort it by tomorrow. Come out at lunch, we'll get the registry print."
Finally... success. Results satisfying—like nailing a 4-dollar negotiation.
Honestly... copyright registration isn't urgent. Disasters from skipping it hit songs with millions of views. Mine's at 10k—not critical.
But complexity differed. Famous songs from male memories were hits; who knows when mine blows up.
"Hmm~ Hmhm~"
Plenty of time left, so I carefully unboxed the vampire ERU figure from Jisu's house.
Heavy collectors need glass cases, but I'm casual—desk display suffices.
Eh?
First time noticing Vocaloid Gallery blocks image uploads. Come to think, it used to allow—probably banned after that horrific photo before.
Should I register?
Weighed risks. People err. Perfection's a fantasy. What if I screw up on the gallery? Future backlash possible. But upsides: tons of attention.
Guess I have to join.
I started making a fixed nick right away.