The Living Lesson
With the university festival just ahead, the University Art Club Room was busier than usual. Canvases, cans of paint, brushes, and sketchbooks lay scattered through the room, and only one boy was actually lost in the work. The two girls, by contrast, leaned on the table or sprawled in chairs, humming, letting the afternoon drift.
Seunggyu had a white T-shirt and jeans on under a painter's apron. His brush moved fast, and he was already grumbling. Short, neat black hair; a soft, boyish face that only grew more serious the harder he concentrated—yet the flecks of paint on his rolled sleeves gave away just how busy he was.
"Hey. Are you two actually going to help, or are you just here to mess with me?"
He had been buried in the piece in front of him. Now his eyes snapped around, and the anger in them landed on one girl in particular. Eunbi. Light waves to her shoulders, a bright crop top, a miniskirt—she watched him with wide eyes and a mischievous lift at the corner of her mouth, and let out a little snort of laughter. Her bright, restless energy seemed to make the whole club room louder.
Three people in here, and she can fill the place like this. If that's a talent, then it's a talent.
"What? You don't like us being here? Or is it... you don't like me being here?"
Eunbi tipped her head and needled him. They had grown up on the same block for more than ten years, childhood friends, and her face said she could read him straight through. Beside her, Jiyoon sat with her long straight hair falling loose, a chiffon maxi dress drifting all the way to her ankles, quietly fidgeting with her fingers. Pale skin, clear eyes, a gentle, shy expression—all of it made her look softer, more pitiable, more lovely.
Seunggyu lifted his voice a little, trying to hide how cornered he felt.
"Ah, seriously! Cut it out. You're embarrassing Yoonie."
He shook his head and turned back to the canvas, but a flush had risen in his face, and he kept stealing glances at Jiyoon. Anyone could have read that look: careful, warm, the way you look at someone you like.
Eunbi didn't miss it. She snorted and nudged Jiyoon with an elbow.
"I wanted to leave first, you know. Jiyoon kept saying we should stay together, so I tagged along. Our Yoonie, our Yoonie... I wonder who came up with that cute little name~"
This time the color rushed into Jiyoon's face. Her slender elbow jabbed back at Eunbi.
"Ah! Why are you like this? You're just telling the uninvited guest to hurry up and vanish, aren't you?"
Seunggyu and Jiyoon couldn't stop the laughter that rose on its own at Eunbi's teasing. For the three of them, raised together since they were small, even this needling and grumbling had long since become ordinary life.
That was the pattern. Eunbi would poke at Seunggyu on purpose, Jiyoon would go red, and Seunggyu would grumble and still end up looking after both of them.
"Haah. Lucky the three of us ended up at the same university. If we hadn't, who knows how sick with worry this unnie would've made herself. Right, Seunggyu?"
"Oh, come on. The faculty advisor's supposed to be here any minute. If you're going to help, then help. Quit joking."
Still grumbling, Seunggyu turned back to the canvas. Under his hand a new world was taking shape—the piece he meant to show at the festival, by the look of it.
"Huh? Professor Lee Sooyoung? That strict one is coming?"
Eunbi's face stiffened as if she'd tasted something foul. Jiyoon, beside her, looked no better.
"That's what I'm saying. If you're leaving, leave."
He muttered it, already certain the two of them would go first. The professor and these two were that incompatible. Even so, he couldn't hide the disappointment. He had meant to confess today, no matter what, and take Jiyoon on a date during the festival. The thought of walking the campus hand in hand flashed through him, and for a moment his face went red.
"Ugh... I should go. Jiyoon, what about you?"
Jiyoon had decided she ought to leave, but her feet didn't want to turn. Her eyes kept settling on Seunggyu, who would be left working alone.
That was when it happened.
The old wooden door of the club room creaked open, and a tension like a drawn bowstring filled the room. Eunbi and Jiyoon hunched their shoulders, already bracing for Professor Lee Sooyoung's sharp scolding. Seunggyu tightened his grip on the brush and shot to his feet.
"Hello, Prof...essor?"
The greeting frayed at the end and curled up into a question. The person who had come through the door was not the sharp-faced middle-aged woman they had expected.
A loose shirt, plain cotton trousers, the sort of ordinary-looking man you might pass anywhere. His eyes seemed kind, and yet there was a strange depth in them. He closed the door softly and walked in as naturally as if he were stepping into his own bedroom.
"So. Club activities going well?"
His voice was soft—a low tone that slipped strangely through the smell of paint hanging in the air. Eunbi frowned and took a step forward, her usual bold, unhesitating nature showing itself at once.
"Who... are you? Our advisor is Professor Lee Soo—"
She stared him down, every guard up. The man showed not a flicker of embarrassment. If anything, a faint smile touched his mouth, as if he found this interesting. Slowly he tilted his head and looked straight into Eunbi's eyes.
"I'm your advisor."
That short sentence drove into her ear. In an instant her clear brown eyes lost their focus and went blank. Her body swayed, fine as a robot with its circuit cut. When the girl who was always lively and overflowing with energy went quiet, the air in the club room seemed to settle, heavy. A very brief moment passed, and Eunbi found her brightness again.
"Ah..."
Her lips parted, then closed. Then she stuck her tongue out a little and rapped her own head with a fist—the gesture she made whenever she felt awkward.
"Oh, right! I must have mixed it up. I'm sorry, Professor! Festival prep has me all over the place lately."
Jiyoon was the same. She pressed her hands together and bowed her head, polite.
"We're sorry, Professor... We were rude."
As she moved, her long straight hair and the hem of her white chiffon dress stirred. When that white chiffon swayed, the slender line of the legs hidden beneath showed through, faintly. The man watched with satisfaction and waved a hand.
"It's fine. Art students are sensitive by nature. So... your names, the three of you?"
"Yes, Professor. I'm Seunggyu. These two are Eunbi and Jiyoon."
Seunggyu answered, springing up. Their advisor, asking their names? The question flickered—and vanished as if an eraser had passed over it. An advisor could get a little mixed up. That was all.
The man nodded and walked slowly to the canvas. Seunggyu set his brush down as if entranced and looked at him. His head felt fogged, hazy, but he did not doubt for an instant that the man before him was his teacher. No—it was as if the feeling of doubt itself had been cut away.
"Have you been studying the structure of the human body? Looking at this, your light and shadow are good, but the texture of muscle and skin is a little lacking."
The criticism was exact. Or was it? Seunggyu couldn't tell, but something in it stirred the artist's hunger in him. He nodded hard.
"Yes. That's right. Imagination only goes so far... Please, Professor. It was a weak point anyway."
The man patted his shoulder. The touch was less encouragement than an owner checking a tool that was easy to handle. He met Seunggyu's eyes once more, gently, and spoke.
"Good. You've got the attitude of someone who wants to learn."
Slowly he turned and looked at the two girls behind him.
The firm line of Eunbi's waist beneath the crop top. Above the drifting dress, Jiyoon's slender collarbones and the line of her neck. Everywhere his gaze touched, it seemed to leave something sticky behind.
"And look at that. Two excellent textbooks, right here."
At his words Eunbi and Jiyoon lifted their heads together. Far from resistance, their faces held a strange pleasure at the thought that they might be of use. Jiyoon's expression, especially, looked happy. Eunbi saw it, the corner of her mouth twitching, and spoke.
"Wow, look at Jiyoon. The second she hears she'll be useful to Seunggyu, she's thrilled."
Saying so, Eunbi was happy herself at the thought of being useful to him. Or perhaps, for a girl who had always cried in secret while hiding her heart for Jiyoon's sake and Seunggyu's, it was an even greater joy.
"I'll take them and teach this in depth, so you watch from there and learn it properly. How a living body draws its curves when it moves. How the muscle under the skin contracts and lets go... You have to observe it from very close."
His voice dropped low and took hold of the club room.
"Yes, Professor."
At Seunggyu's answer, the man slowly locked the door. The instant the lock turned, the fluorescent light flickered once.
Click. The sound was so clear that, for a moment, everyone's breathing stopped.
He raised his hand. His fingertips cut the air and caught the hem of Eunbi's crop top. The cloth rolled upward, and a span of skin showed beneath her navel—less than a hand's breadth of it.
"Eunbi. You first."
She tried to step back. The strength left her legs, and she sank where she was. Her hips caught on the back of a chair; the crop top rolled all the way up, baring her to beneath her breasts. She drew a deep breath, but her chest trembled so hard the bra strap slipped from her shoulder.
"I want the line of your waist. Take a deep breath."
Eunbi did as she was told. Each time she inhaled, her abdomen hollowed and filled again. His finger traced slowly down that hollow. At the soft, ticklish sensation she squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. Jiyoon only stared, dazed. Between the long strands of her hair, her eyes were shaking.
The man turned his head.
"Jiyoon. Come here too."
Jiyoon couldn't take a single step. Her eyes kept turning toward Seunggyu. A tear slid down.
"Hm."
He walked to her and drew her gently along. The moment Jiyoon took his hand, her feet seemed to move on their own. The chiffon hem brushed the floor and swayed. He caught her wrist and pulled her in front of him.
"I'm sorry, Professor. I think I got dust in my eye."
It was a nonsense excuse, but she said it and rubbed her eyes, as if dust really had gotten in.
"No, it's fine. Relax. The straps of the dress—slide them off your shoulders."
Jiyoon's hands rose. With trembling fingertips she eased the left strap down, and the thin cloth slid, revealing a pale shoulder and the soft swell of her cleavage. Fluorescent light settled over the white skin and gleamed, faint. His thumb swept slowly along her collarbone. A tingling followed his finger, shot through her spine, and climbed into her head.
"Hold your breath."
Jiyoon stopped breathing. Beneath the collarbone her chest lifted slightly, and as the pressure of the dress eased, the cloth stirred.
Seunggyu sat before the canvas, blankly watching the woman he had longed for undress herself in front of a strange man. The brush had already fallen to the floor. The palette in his hand shook so hard that paint ran down the back of it. Tears kept spilling from his eyes, as if he were Jiyoon.
The man looked back at him.
"Seunggyu. Are you watching? The real lesson starts now."
One arm wrapped Eunbi's waist. The other hand lifted Jiyoon lightly at the nape. Both girls flinched at once.
"A living body draws its most beautiful curves when it breathes like this. When it trembles like this."
He tipped Eunbi's back a little, and her chest rose toward the ceiling. Drawn by his hand, Jiyoon sank to her knees, her long hair spreading until it nearly brushed the floor. Slowly he stripped off Eunbi's crop top and miniskirt, then drew down the zipper of Jiyoon's chiffon dress.
The chiffon, drifting as it fell, looked almost like an angel's wings.
His childhood friends stood revealed in a dazzling nakedness, nothing but underwear to hide their breasts and the tender place between their thighs, and Seunggyu could only stare, blank.