There is Paradise in the Place You Fled (3)
There is Paradise in the Place You Fled (3)
As I was fiddling with my phone like that, the door opened and people started entering one by one.
I saw a familiar face.
It was Senior Jeon Dae-hoon, whom I had seen last time.
'Should I greet him?'
After a moment's hesitation, I got up. We had met before, after all.
"Hello."
"Oh, nice to see you. You're here too. Rest comfortably."
The senior waved his hand dismissively and sat down in an empty seat.
"Yes."
No strict enforcement of discipline, no attention given. It really is comfortable.
Just as I was about to relax again.
Ungseong ungseong.
Suddenly, the area outside the door grew noisy. The sound was so loud it seemed like the hallway was being torn apart, about to burst through the walls.
'What's this?'
As I tilted my head and looked toward the door, Senior Dae-hoon, who had been watching my reaction, casually tossed out a comment.
"Ah, don't mind it. Emperor-nim has arrived."
"......?"
Emperor?
Before I could even question it, the club room door flung open.
A man entered.
His outfit was excessively flashy for someone coming to school.
It was as if he was plastered with luxury goods; his accessories sparkled, and the quality of his clothes was no joke.
Ignoring the surrounding stares, he strode over and buried himself deep into the sofa.
Exhaustion was dripping from his entire body.
I stared blankly at the scene, then turned my head to Senior Dae-hoon.
"Emperor... what is that?"
"Ah... just guys who date a hundred or a thousand girlfriends."
"Huh...?"
What is he saying?
Far from understanding, I doubted my ears.
A hundred, a thousand?
It's not like he's the protagonist of a mass-produced harem novel. Is that even a plausible number in reality?
As I stood there with a dumbfounded expression, Senior Dae-hoon waved his hand as if it was nothing special.
"You don't need to worry about it. Those guys came to rest too, just like us."
"Ah......"
Only then did the puzzle fit together.
The female students who had been crowding the door when I first came to this club. And the strangely quiet atmosphere I felt today.
'Was that all thanks to seniors like him...?'
It's not like he's the Pied Piper. Does he herd women instead of rats...
It seems the club room was quiet only because it was the calm before the storm.
I glanced at the 'Emperor' sprawled on the sofa.
Contrary to his flashy appearance, he was completely drained, like a dead battery, not moving an inch. He seemed to be sleeping so deeply that even his breathing was inaudible.
'Well, it's not like he's causing us any harm.'
Rather, he looks tired enough that I feel a sense of camaraderie.
There's no need to argue over someone who really came to rest.
I set aside my complicated thoughts, returned to my spot, and lay down again.
Some time must have passed.
The door kept opening and closing, and before I knew it, the club room started to get crowded with people.
The sofa seats were already taken, and I could see members pacing around with no place to sit.
'Should I give up my seat soon?'
Just as I was deliberating whether I should tactfully get up.
Deureureureuk—
The newcomers opened a built-in closet on the wall.
Then they started taking something out.
It was a folding mat.
They naturally spread the mats on the floor as if it were their own bedroom, and threw themselves down.
Teolssuk.
"......"
What... there were mats too?
In an instant, the club room floor was filled with people playing dead.
Dozens of men gathered in one space, yet not a single voice was heard.
All that could be heard was an occasional sigh or the sound of clothes rustling.
Normally when guys get together, it would be noisy with game talk or gossip.
Whether they're all exhausted, or this silence is an unspoken rule.
This dry yet peaceful atmosphere where everyone rests as they wish.
'This... is more unique than I thought.'
It's not bad. Rather, I even felt a strange comfort.
As I was blankly staring at the ceiling like that, my phone in my pocket vibrated.
There wasn't much time left until class started.
"Eu cha..."
I got up and gathered my bag.
On my way out, I glanced at Senior Dae-hoon. He was still fiddling with his phone.
"Senior, I have class so I'll head out."
"Uh."
Without even lifting his head, he just waved his hand.
"You don't have to say goodbye. Just go. Listen well in class."
"Yes. Take your rest."
Receiving a farewell that was cool to the point of being cold, I quietly left the club room.
After that, it was a predictable routine.
I picked up that guy Hyun-woo I met in the hallway, dragged him to the lecture hall, and the class rep Shin Ga-young stuck to my side again, sitting through a suffocating class.
"Alright, that concludes the class."
With the professor's declaration of the end came free time. Today, my free period is so long that I resent my past self who made this schedule.
"Jin-hyeok, are you free? Maybe... want to go to the new café in front of the school?"
As I was packing my bag, Shin Ga-young swooped in as if she had been waiting.
Though her eyes sparkled as she suggested going to the café.
"Ah, sorry. I have an urgent appointment."
I refused without a second's hesitation.
Leaving the disappointed class rep behind, I personally exiled the hesitant Hyun-woo to Utopia.
After sending him off, I turned around feeling lighthearted.
Now, where should I go?
Like a bear cub hiding its precious honey pot deep in the forest, I headed to the place where I had hidden my own honey pot.
The oldest old humanities building on campus, and at the end of the most secluded hallway.
[ Hanlim Classic Studies Society (Hanlim Classic Studies Society) ]
On the old wooden signboard, Chinese characters were embedded in a serious cursive style.
Just looking at the name already gave me a headache, a perfect naming that seemed to bring musty moldiness and boredom.
Thanks to that, no female student, not even curious freshmen, would come near this place.
I turned the doorknob without knocking. I was a proper official member too.
Kkiik—
The old hinges screeched. As soon as I opened the door, instead of musty mold, a faint scent of ink brushed my nose.
In the center of the club room, a tiny creature was standing in front of a large solid wood desk.
"You have come."
Without even lifting her head, she greeted me with a deliberately solemn voice. A form of condescension that might appear in historical dramas.
It was the head of our 'Hanlim Classic Studies Society', Senior Han Seo-yul.
"Hello."
I put down my bag and approached the desk.
Holding a brush as big as her own arm in her little hand, she was grunting with effort, looking quite serious. Black ink was dancing on the rice paper.
"What are you doing? Why the brushwork?"
"Ah, this is an entry for the calligraphy competition."
"Huh? A competition?"
At the unexpected comment, my eyes widened, and the head senior put down the brush with a short sigh.
"Isn't it necessary to have achievements to maintain the club room? The school keeps pressuring us to vacate the room."
"Ah..."
I understood immediately.
A ghost club with only the two of us as members. And I'm just using it as a shelter, so the head senior is struggling alone to protect the club room.
"You're working hard."
"If you know, go over there and rest comfortably. Feel free to make yourself some tea."
"Yes. Ah, right. Head senior."
I was heading to the sofa when something suddenly came to mind, and I stopped.
"What is it?"
"Can I use the computer in the corner?"
When my finger pointed at the dusty desktop in the corner, the head senior's eyes twitched.
"Ah... that is not allowed."
"Huh? Why? Is it broken?"
"No, it's not that... well..."
She averted her eyes and stammered.
"It's because I have some personal data in there. It's not organized, so I'm a bit embarrassed to show it. Later... after I organize it, I'll let you borrow it."
"Ah, I see."
Well, if there's someone's privacy involved, I don't intend to pry.
Maybe she's hidden a 'Bush Warbler' folder somewhere deep in the desktop.
'But... she's really committed to this concept...'
It's just amazing how she can maintain that historical drama speech without being embarrassed in real life.
'Is that what they mean by a monster consumed by his own concept...?'
Well, let's think positively.
If the head senior had been a true fanboy who pushed up his glasses and said 'Kkeuk... so that's a 'forbidden' area...? (yare yare)' like some kind of weeb, I would have thrown in my resignation papers without looking back.
Rather, this is better.
The way it oddly matches her pale white hair, she looks like some child-god from the mountains. The trap is that it actually suits her.
"Can't be helped."
"Good, thank you for understanding."
I shrugged and threw myself onto the plush sofa.
'Ah, right. I was going to ask if I could order delivery...'
I glanced toward the head senior.
The afternoon sunlight streaming through the window illuminated her white hair.
Her hair, which she said lost all its pigment due to a wrong herbal medicine as a child, even looked mystical at this moment.
But if I lowered my gaze just a little...
Her tiny frame, barely reaching my solar plexus, clad in a loose modernized hanbok, swinging a brush as big as her arm. It was almost like a doll come to life.
The spirit she exuded from that small body was so serious that even a master calligrapher would bow down.
She was frowning and putting her soul into the tip of the brush; if I dared to bring up delivery food, I felt like I'd get hit with that brush.
'...I'll just ask after she's done.'
I quietly shut my mouth and took out my phone.
.
.
.
How much time passed?
A soft 'tuk' sound was heard as she put down the brush.
"Hoo..."
The head senior let out a long breath and straightened her back. It seemed she was finally done.
I put my phone in my pocket and stood up.
"Are you done?"
"Yes. Come and see. It is a masterpiece poured with all my soul."
She beckoned me with a proud expression.
I approached the desk and looked down at the rice paper.
"Oh..."
First, an exclamation came out.
The density of the ink, the powerful strokes stretching out. Even to someone like me who knows nothing about calligraphy, it looked quite impressive.
It was just amazing how she could write such strong characters with those tiny hands.
But.
"......"
I have no idea what it says. Everything is scribbled in difficult Chinese characters, making me feel illiterate.
"It's cool... but what does it mean? Is it some good idiom?"
As I tilted my head and asked, Senior Han Seo-yul deliberately put on airs and cleared her throat.
"Ahem. You wish to know the meaning? This... is a phrase containing profound philosophy."
"Philosophy?"
"Listen well."
With a solemn expression, she traced the words on the paper with her finger and began to recite in a clear voice.
"What a truly beautiful day. The birds sing, the flowers bloom in full..."
Oh, that sounds poetic?
"On a day like this, children like you..."
...Huh?
Her voice suddenly dropped low.
"Should be burning in the flames of hell."
"......Huh?"
I doubted my ears.
"What... is that supposed to mean? On a beautiful day, suddenly hellfire?"
Despite my sour reaction, she ignored it and looked down at the brush with a solemn expression. There was even deep sorrow in her eyes.
"Think carefully. Roughly... this phrase contains the grief of independence fighters looking at their stolen homeland during the Japanese colonial period."
"......"
"The mountains and rivers are so beautiful, yet our reality is like hell. It expresses the desperate resentment of our ancestors, wishing those wicked enemies to burn in the flames of hell."
The interpretation is more important than the dream, they say.
'...What bullshit is this.'
Anyone can see it's copied from some game dialogue with skull masks. Independence fighters, my ass.
I simply couldn't understand the realm of literature.