Drawing the Light
Until the very last class, the students' attention remained entirely consumed by the Year-End Exhibition.
Amidst the restless atmosphere, the school day finally ended, and the students began to head home.
"Hey, are you really sure you're okay?"
Normally, Hyeon-min would have been busy poking his nose into everyone else's business.
But today was different.
He followed Ye-ji like a shadow at every opportunity, repeatedly asking if she was alright.
At first, she thought he was just feeling incredibly guilty.
"I told you, I'm fine. Can't you tell just by looking?"
But Ye-ji was starting to lose her patience.
As Hyeon-min dogged her steps all the way out of the school gates, she gave him a sharp, firm reply.
Yet even Da-hye looked somewhat uneasy as she chimed in.
"Honestly... it is a bit concerning. Seeing how your brushwork completely changed is kind of unsettling!"
She couldn't really complain since Ye-ji seemed to have gotten better, but it still felt strange.
Da-hye pondered it for a moment, then added, as if the whole thing was simply too bizarre to ignore.
"Isn't it weird to suddenly get that good out of nowhere?"
Hyeon-min let out a thoughtless chuckle at Da-hye's words.
"Wow, getting hit by a soccer ball and awakening as a genius."
"Why don't you shut your mouth, since you're the one who caused this?" Da-hye snapped.
Watching Da-hye and Hyeon-min bicker, Ye-ji let out a soft giggle.
Still, when she thought about it, there was indeed a strange discrepancy.
Because she had been so preoccupied with the bizarre experience of remembering her past life, she hadn't given it much thought herself.
"Come to think of it, I don't really remember anything right before or after getting hit by the ball."
At Ye-ji's words, Hyeon-min's playful expression instantly vanished, his face turning pale.
"R-Really?"
"Yeah. I remember getting off the bus this morning... and the next thing I knew, I was waking up face-down on my desk."
Ye-ji had seemed perfectly fine—better than usual, even.
Hyeon-min, who had been trying to brush it off, now looked utterly grave.
"Please go to the hospital. Seriously. Please. Should I go with you?"
Why on earth would I go with you?
When Ye-ji immediately grimaced in disgust, Hyeon-min quickly pulled out a card.
"Then at least take this and go. Please, I'm begging you."
Since the culprit was practically begging, it would be weirder to refuse.
Ye-ji snatched the card from his hand without hesitation.
"Fine. I'm going to swipe this like crazy, okay?"
"Yes, yes. Go right ahead. Just please bring back a test result that says you're absolutely fine."
Hyeon-min added that she must call him if the results were bad, then quickly took his leave.
"Seriously, why does he have to kick a ball around in the middle of school?"
"Tell me about it," Ye-ji agreed.
Ye-ji turned to Da-hye, who was walking beside her.
"By the way, don't you have to go to your academy?"
"I do, but..."
Da-hye hesitated, looking worriedly at Ye-ji, before finally nodding.
"Yeah, well, you should be fine. If the doctor says you need more tests, just go straight to my mom's hospital!"
With those final words of concern, the two friends parted ways.
Ye-ji headed straight to the clinic.
Stepping inside the hospital, she felt an involuntary wave of tension wash over her.
Was it because the memory of being diagnosed with blindness was still so vivid?
Even though it was just a routine checkup, her palms grew strangely damp with sweat.
"It looks like a mild concussion, but I don't see any other concerning symptoms."
Ridiculously enough, she did have a massive bump on the back of her head.
It only hurt when she pressed directly on it.
Other than that, she felt completely fine.
"If you want to be absolutely sure, we could do a CT scan for a more detailed look," the doctor added reassuringly.
Since he said she was fine, there was no need to go that far.
In truth, Ye-ji was far more concerned about something else.
"Um... are my eyes okay?"
"……Why? Is your vision blurry, or do you feel something is off?"
Surprised by her question, the doctor checked her pupillary reflex once more.
"Oh, no. It's just... I felt like my eyesight had gotten a bit worse lately."
"Ah, if that's the case... the ophthalmology department is just over there. You can register and get examined."
Though her palms remained slick with sweat from the tension, the eye exam revealed nothing out of the ordinary.
In fact, her vision was so sharp she didn't even need glasses.
"..."
It felt surreal.
In the end, Ye-ji bought a bottle of eye supplements from the pharmacy before finally heading home.
Taking the bus out of the congested heart of Seoul, she arrived at the sprawling forest of apartment complexes.
It was just one of many identical buildings, but it was warm, comfortable, and it was her family's home.
"I'm home."
At the sound of Ye-ji's voice, her mother, who seemed to have just returned home herself, poked her head out.
"Are you okay? Goodness, what was Hyeon-min thinking, kicking a soccer ball around first thing in the morning?"
Having already heard about the incident via text, her mother spoke in a fretting tone.
She gently felt the protruding bump on the back of Ye-ji's head, her face falling.
"Did the doctor really say you're fine?"
"Ow, ow. Yeah, they said it'll be fine once the bump goes down. Where's Dad?"
"He's almost here. Should I ask him to pick something up?"
"Yeah. Chicken, please."
"Alright, go wash up. I'll give him a call."
A normal, warm family.
Ye-ji felt a strange, ticklish sensation in her chest.
It was a mundane daily life she hadn't truly appreciated until yesterday.
Only after remembering the sheer weight of her past struggles did she understand the value of this peace.
"..."
As she washed her face, Ye-ji paused to look at her reflection in the mirror.
Catherine, the painter who had starved herself to paint, was dead.
The person standing here now was young, healthy, and standing before a horizon of infinite possibilities.
She no longer needed to cling to the desperate misery of that past life.
But even so... I still want to paint.
Despite everything, that single desire remained unchanged across both lifetimes.
Steam rose, fogging up the glass and blurring her reflection.
Yet, the fact that the person reflected in the mirror was herself remained unalterable.
No matter how much her circumstances or environment changed, some things were constant.
She was, at her core, someone who had to express things with her hands.
And more than that, she was someone who found true joy when that expression was recognized by the world.
Seventeen-year-old Ye-ji and thirty-year-old Catherine.
This was the shared value and ultimate goal of the person who had lived both of those lives.
Then nothing changes.
Ye-ji splashed cold water on her face, clearing her mind.
Since that truth remained constant, the memories and experiences of her past life were simply an addition.
All she had to do was accept who she had been and live fully in the present.
She was still herself.
The next day, Ye-ji went to school as usual.
She squeezed onto the packed morning bus and arrived at school.
Even though a day had passed, the classroom was still buzzing with talk about the Year-End Exhibition.
"I heard we can work overnight in the art studios starting today."
At Da-hye's words, Ye-ji scratched her chin.
There's still over a month left. Is it really necessary to pull all-nighters already?
But that was strictly by her own standards.
More precisely, it was a standard shaped by Catherine's decades of experience, so she kept the thought to herself.
"The bell rang ages ago. Why is everyone still standing around?"
The chatter finally died down with the arrival of the teacher.
This period was Still Life Modeling and Sketching.
It was taught by Jeong Mi-jin, a teacher with a sharp bob cut.
"I told you all we'd be doing a performance assessment today, right?"
Groans and complaints immediately erupted from all corners of the room.
Grinning as if she fed on their misery, Ms. Jeong walked across the classroom.
She placed an empty desk right in the center of the room.
"You have one hundred minutes. There are no official breaks, so go to the restroom on your own time."
With that, the teacher placed a single glass cup on the empty desk.
It was a sparkling crystal glass with hundreds of intricate facets.
It had an antique look, the kind of glass meant for pouring expensive liquor.
"Ugh, seriously. Where did she even find something like that?"
Da-hye muttered under her breath.
Similar complaints echoed throughout the room.
This assessment was a test of basic sketching.
They had to render the crystal cup using only pencils.
"The other class took theirs last period, and they had to draw a crystal suncatcher. This is actually better," Hyeon-min whispered from his seat diagonally across from them.
"Oh, right. I almost forgot~"
Ms. Jeong spoke in a sly voice as she retrieved her tumbler from the podium.
She then poured the water from her tumbler straight into the crystal glass.
The glass, which was already refracting light in every direction, now had water added to it.
Groans rippled through the classroom, and several students shot murderous glares at Hyeon-min.
When Da-hye glared at him while clutching her freshly sharpened pencil, Hyeon-min quickly averted his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
"...I think ours is way harder."
"Nice going," Da-hye hissed.
"..."
Hyeon-min couldn't find a word to defend himself against Ye-ji and Da-hye's remarks.
Of course, the teacher hadn't actually forgotten.
She was just playing a small prank because she enjoyed the students' reactions.
"Alright, begin. You're free to move your desks or change your positions."
The moment Ms. Jeong finished speaking, everyone scrambled out of their seats.
They began circling the classroom, trying to find an angle where the light refraction was least severe.
"As if that's going to make a difference..."
With a heavy sigh, Da-hye simply rotated her desk.
Ye-ji nodded in agreement and did the same.
Since they had all passed the rigorous admissions process to enter Cheonglim Arts High School, their basic skills were already solid.
Ye-ji tried to deduce the teacher's true intention behind this assignment.
If she wanted to test our ability to capture form, she would have brought out a plaster bust instead.
To accurately render every single one of those hundreds of facets, even two hours wouldn't be enough, even for her.
Ye-ji looked back and forth between the sparkling glass and the pencil in her hand.
The defining characteristic of the object.
Sparkle. Light.
This was an assignment about drawing light.
Without hesitation, Ye-ji began to lay down pencil strokes, starting with the darkest areas.
And that is my specialty.
When told to look at light, most people instinctively look for the light source.
But she was different from ordinary people.
To capture true light, one had to observe the reflected light, which required a high level of spatial awareness.
Light bounces, reflects, and bends in countless ways.
The area receiving the least light was the bottom of the glass.
And the deepest recesses of the facets in between.
"..."
No, this part is a bit brighter.
Out of habit from her days as Catherine, Ye-ji lightly smudged the paper with the side of her wrist.
The dark graphite blended, softening the tone.
After mapping out the darkest shadows with a few strokes, the shape of the glass began to emerge.
This should be enough for the basic shadows...
"..."
She wondered how the others were doing.
Looking over at Da-hye's sketchbook, Ye-ji paused.
It was starkly different from her own drawing, where form and value had been established simultaneously.
Da-hye was meticulously carving out the overall shape with a sharp pencil and an eraser.
Her lines were delicate, as if she were sculpting the glass on paper.
It seemed she planned to establish the entire structure before applying any value.
...That is the textbook way.
And if it had been the Ye-ji of two days ago, she would have drawn exactly like that, just as she had been taught.
But the current Ye-ji was different.
You can't get ahead by only doing what you're taught.
Catherine, the free-spirited artist from the French countryside.
To someone who had reclaimed those memories and experiences, such rigid methods felt stifling.
She could easily skip those tedious steps.
Since the sketch was already complete in her mind, there was no need to repeat redundant steps.
Thanks to that, her progress was incredibly swift.
"Alright, time's up. Bring your drawings forward."
Ms. Jeong collected the papers precisely at the hundred-minute mark.
"Ah, I didn't even finish!"
"Did anyone actually finish?"
While the students handed in their work with defeated expressions...
"...Looks like someone did."
Amidst the sea of mostly white, unfinished papers.
One drawing stood out dramatically.
"What is this? Whose is it?"
As whispers broke out, Da-hye, standing nearby, stared at Ye-ji with utter shock.
"It's mine."
At Ye-ji's words, the eyes of the entire class, including the teacher, snapped to her.
"Mine isn't fully finished either," Ye-ji added.
But no one agreed with her.
Although Ye-ji had omitted the intricate geometry of the crystal facets, her drawing possessed an incredible depth.
The areas where the water blocked the light, and the areas where it didn't.
The parts hit by direct light, and the parts illuminated by reflected light.
The contrast was stark and deliberate.
Because of that depth, the omitted details didn't make the piece look incomplete.
Instead, it looked like a deliberate stylistic choice.
"Well, we already know who's getting an A," Hyeon-min muttered.
No one could dispute his words.