A New Palette
Da-hye wasn't the only one who stopped in her tracks.
Cheonglim Arts High School was a place where the nation's most promising young prodigies gathered.
But no matter how talented they were, they were still only seventeen years old.
As soon as the lunch bell rang, the students rushed out of the classrooms at an astonishing speed.
Naturally, a student still lingering in the empty art studio was bound to catch the teacher's eye.
“You've changed the mood, haven't you?”
The teacher, who had walked over to see if something was wrong, stopped right in front of Ye-ji's canvas.
Before, the canvas had held a boring vase, painted with timid, overly delicate strokes.
Even for a student's practice piece, it had been painfully old-fashioned.
The plan for that dull painting had been to add a landscape seen through a window in the background.
A frame within a frame.
It was a common variation, but perfectly appropriate for a high school student.
However, deviating from the original plan, the scenery outside the window was now layered with unfamiliar colors.
Da-hye, who had been staring blankly at Ye-ji's altered painting, muttered under her breath.
“…Wait, this is actually really good…?”
At Da-hye's murmur, the teacher nodded without even realizing it.
The closer one looked at Ye-ji's painting, the more impressive it became.
The oil paint was applied with bold, almost messy strokes.
Yet, beneath the texture, a clear direction emerged.
This wasn't just paint slapped onto the canvas.
It was an underpainting, built up layer by layer, laying the foundation for a much grander vision.
“Are you thinking of going in an abstract direction with this?”
Ye-ji hesitated at the teacher's question.
She hadn't moved her brush with a set plan in mind.
The lingering regret of the final painting from her suddenly recalled past life had simply guided her hand.
“I'm… not really sure.”
Despite Ye-ji's confused response, the teacher smiled gently.
The Fine Arts Department of Cheonglim Arts High School.
Only those with exceptional artistic talent in South Korea could gain admission here.
It was a gathering place for kids who had been ranked first in art since they were young.
Because such prodigies were gathered together, someone inevitably had to become second, third, or even drop out of the top ten.
As a result, many struggled to adapt, crushed by the gap between their past glory and their current reality.
“It's fine. You don't always have to paint with your head. Just go where your hands take you for now.”
In this environment, the students to worry about most were the ones who only painted with their heads.
They had high standards and critical eyes, spouting grand words but doing little else.
The kids who spent ages stuck on sketches were the biggest problem.
If the brush moved first, there was no need to worry.
“If this turns out well, you won't have anything to worry about.”
Patting Ye-ji on the shoulder with a satisfied expression, the teacher left the room.
Still somewhat dazed, Ye-ji watched the teacher's retreating back.
“…Worry?”
About what?
Wondering what the teacher meant by that vague statement, Ye-ji finally set her brush down.
Seeing this, Da-hye, who was already waiting outside the studio, called out.
“Ye-ji! Hurry up!”
Art was great, but to a high-spirited seventeen-year-old, lunch was a matter of life and death.
“Let's go, quick!”
Hyeon-min was with her, perhaps still feeling guilty about the accident that morning.
Urged on by the two, Ye-ji quickly left the studio.
But her gaze lingered for a moment on the paintings left behind in the classroom.
The studio was filled with dozens of standing easels.
Dozens of canvases, each holding infinite possibilities.
Ye-ji took one last look at them before closing the door.
“I knew this would happen! We dragged our feet, and now there's nothing left for lunch!”
Da-hye grumbled as she snapped her wooden chopsticks apart.
With the sweet and sour chicken completely sold out, there was nothing decent left on the menu.
In the end, they had to settle for cup ramen from the snack bar. Hyeon-min was already stuffing his face with half-cooked noodles.
“Hey, hey! Let it cook first! Wait till it's done!”
“I promised to play soccer with the guys from the other department... Ah, hot!”
“Ugh, honestly!”
Da-hye tossed a wet wipe at Hyeon-min.
Though she had a sharp tongue, she was actually quite caring.
Pushing aside a steaming roll of kimbap to let it cool, Da-hye peeled open a hot bar and placed it in front of Ye-ji.
“Thanks.”
Chewing on the spicy hot bar while waiting for her ramen to cook, Ye-ji organized her thoughts.
A past life suddenly remembered?
It was shocking, but she accepted it more easily than she would have expected.
It was currently September 2016.
Incredibly, her current birthday perfectly coincided with the date of her death in her past life.
As her memories grew clearer and sharper, that fact felt less and less like a mere coincidence.
If so, she just had to accept it.
The most important thing was that she was still painting, and that she still wanted to paint.
“Oh, I'm done, so I'm heading out! You're really okay, right? Tell me if you feel sick again!”
Hyeon-min, having practically swallowed his raw ramen whole, rushed off.
“Yeah. I will.”
Watching him run off, Ye-ji stuffed the rest of the hot bar into her mouth.
These were things she hadn't noticed when she had viewed them simply as peers of the same age.
Now that the memories of her past life had returned, Ye-ji felt as though she had gained an insight far beyond her years.
Swallowing the food, Ye-ji asked,
“Hey, have you ever heard anything about Kang Hyeon-min's family or his parents?”
Da-hye, who was stirring her now-cooked ramen, tilted her head.
Her expression asked what brought this on, but she answered honestly.
“I heard they work at a major corporation.”
Parents working at a conglomerate weren't anything unusual in an arts high school.
Da-hye's parents were doctors, so her family was quite wealthy.
In fact, Ye-ji, whose parents were ordinary salarymen working at small-to-medium enterprises, was the unusual one.
Arts high schools were teeming with kids from luxurious backgrounds.
In truth, in South Korea, it was almost impossible for a child from a struggling family to pursue art.
“But why do you ask?”
“Oh, just because. I was wondering what he plans to do for a living.”
Da-hye giggled at Ye-ji's remark.
Cheonglim Arts High School was considered the absolute top arts high school in the country, especially for its Fine Arts Department.
One could only enter by surviving fierce competition and proving their talent.
Naturally, the students here, whether by choice or by pressure, possessed grand ambitions and drive for their futures.
It was the norm for most of them to study or head straight back to the art studio after eating.
So, the kids who acted as carefree as Hyeon-min fell into only two categories.
Either they were immature geniuses who got in purely on raw talent, or their parents were so powerful that they didn't need to worry about their future at all.
“Still, even if he's not great at painting, he's incredibly well-informed about the art world. He'll probably go into curation or exhibition planning.”
Indeed, Hyeon-min was more interested in appreciating art than creating it.
He was faster than anyone at catching wind of domestic and international exhibitions, galleries, and art-related news.
His wide social circle, which extended beyond fine arts to the dance and music departments, was largely due to this personality.
“…Right. I should worry about my own fate first.”
Da-hye chuckled at Ye-ji's reply and unwrapped the now-cooled kimbap.
“Eat this too. By the way, I really liked your painting earlier. You were worried that the frame-within-a-frame composition was too cliché.”
As tenth graders overwhelmed by South Korea's rigid college entrance system, the students' ideas of creativity were mostly similar.
The creative concepts they came up with rarely deviated from a set pattern.
But the painting Ye-ji had worked on during the previous class was different.
“I felt like if you pull it off well, it could be a really impactful piece.”
The scenery outside the window that Ye-ji painted today was much more abstract.
The brushstrokes swayed like ripples.
It looked like waves, or perhaps a night sky colored by clouds.
Recalling Ye-ji's impressive painting, Da-hye popped a piece of kimbap into her mouth.
“Of course, it's just the underpainting, so we'll have to see how it turns out.”
By its nature, oil painting reveals its details as layers dry and new ones are added on top.
For now, all she could be sure of was that it was different from Ye-ji's usual style.
“What made you change it so suddenly?”
Instead of answering Da-hye's question, Ye-ji stuffed a mouthful of ramen into her mouth.
The spicy, salty cup ramen.
Instead of the smell of butter and flour from her memories, the rich taste of Korean spices filled her mouth.
The days of lonely self-proving had come to a fleeting end.
Her life now was full of entirely new possibilities and opportunities.
Though she couldn't easily explain it in words right now...
“…Why are you smiling at me like that all of a sudden? Does your head still hurt?”
Ye-ji chuckled at Da-hye's words.
“I just suddenly realized the truth of life.”
She then stuffed the remaining kimbap into Da-hye's mouth, using it as a substitute for a proper answer.
On the way back to the classroom after filling up on snack bar food.
Compared to her past life, the life of a South Korean high school student was absolute heaven.
Abundant food, a clean environment, and various cultural facilities.
Although she wasn't wealthy in this life either, she wasn't poor.
Moreover, she actually had parents.
Parents who showered their only daughter with unconditional support and affection.
Thinking of them brought a sudden wave of longing for her parents, who would be working at their offices right now.
I miss Mom and Dad.
A life where such things existed for her.
It was a precious daily life she wouldn't trade for ten million euros.
“Are you going to the academy after school today?”
“No, I think I'll just go home today,” Ye-ji replied simply as she opened the classroom door.
A crowd of classmates was gathered right in front of the door.
A wave of noise washed over them along with the bustling crowd.
“Ah, damn. What should I do?”
“I don't know. Do I need to align it with my major choice?”
“I have something to ask the teacher. Anyone want to come with?”
Amidst the buzzing students, Da-hye and Ye-ji blinked in confusion.
Everyone was gathered around a large poster stuck to the back of the classroom.
“What's going on? What's all the fuss about?”
Da-hye pushed through the crowd and headed toward the poster.
Thanks to the proactive Da-hye, Ye-ji was able to easily approach the poster as well.
Cheonglim Arts High School
The 38th Year-End Practical Art Exhibition
It was a poster detailing the participation guidelines for the school exhibition, which the students abbreviated as the "Year-End Exhibition."
“…Wow, it's finally here.”
Hearing Da-hye's despairing voice, Ye-ji scanned the details and spoke reflexively.
“The schedule is out already?”
The Year-End Exhibition was an event that no student at Cheonglim Arts High School could possibly be ignorant of.
In fact, it was so large that any teenager pursuing art in the country knew about it.
In particular, the middle school division held alongside it was considered one of the most prestigious competitions in the nation.
Thanks to that, even the freshmen who had just finished their high school entrance exams and entered Cheonglim were well aware of its reputation.
At Ye-ji's question, the surrounding students chimed in.
“What do you mean 'already'? The exhibition starts in December!”
“To be exact, the submission deadline is in November.”
“Same difference.”
Crucially, the judges for the Year-End Exhibition weren't just the school's teachers.
Every year, recognized experts from various fields served as judges.
Naturally, this attracted visits from a wide range of prominent figures in the art world.
Catching someone's eye there meant the chance to seize bigger and better opportunities.
Amidst her classmates' chatter, Ye-ji fell into thought.
Since the school's reputation was on the line, the grades for some practical art classes were determined by the pieces submitted to the exhibition.
It was a highly significant event on multiple levels.
Naturally, the students felt an immense amount of pressure.
Was the 'worry' the teacher mentioned earlier... about this?
Ye-ji checked the schedule, which confirmed her suspicion.
“So we have a month and a half left until the deadline?”
At Ye-ji's words, groans erupted from all directions.
Amidst the complaints telling her not to remind them, Ye-ji barely swallowed the words that almost slipped out.
A month and a half was a tight window for inexperienced students to conceptualize and complete a piece.
But Ye-ji was different.
...That's plenty of time.
For Ye-ji, who had already absorbed the experience and memories of her past life, that was more than enough time.