The Mother Superior's Call
Cassandra called.
"Jun, Vanessa got in touch."
"…"
Vanessa who? Cassandra tossed the name out like we were old friends, and it left me feeling a little sheepish. I racked my brain for a moment, then gave up and asked.
"Sorry, Cassandra — who's Vanessa?"
"…You know what? Looking at you, Jun, you don't pay nearly as much attention to the people around you as you think. Not unless you already count them as yours."
"Doesn't everyone do that?"
"No."
"Right. Whatever it is, I'm sorry."
Cassandra laughed like she had given up on me entirely.
"The influencer co-authoring the recipe book with us. You know — the one who posts about healthy living."
"Ah… right, I remember now. She was the one who stood out the most at that party."
How I had managed to wipe her completely from my mind was a mystery even to me.
"So what about her?"
"She says she watched our channel. She's asking if we'd be up for shooting a video together."
"Ah. Well…"
"No need to feel pressured. Vanessa hasn't even thought through a specific concept yet. Basically she said she'll brainstorm on her end, and if we come up with something worth doing together, we should reach out."
"Got it. Then we'll just keep it in mind for now."
"Still, it's a good sign. She's a much bigger influencer than we are, and she reached out first."
"True."
"So from now on, I'm going to start compiling a list of people you meet and pre-check whether there's any content we could do with them."
"Thanks, Cassandra."
"This is my actual job now. Why do you keep thanking me?"
"Still. Thank you."
Ever since Cassandra quit her company, she had officially become my manager — and the overseer of my channel on top of that. We had signed an employment contract under which she no longer took half the channel's revenue, but a fixed salary instead. That change had come once the old "half the profits" arrangement started regularly exceeding a regular office worker's paycheck as the channel grew.
I had wanted us to stay partners all the way. She, however, had laid out a far bolder vision. First she would grow my channel enough to hire additional staff beyond herself, streamline the division of labor, and get the channel — and me — onto a proper influencer trajectory. After that, she wanted to become a CEO managing several people like me. She said she seemed to get a real kick out of spotting people with star potential and elevating them.
She also told me that without me, she never would have left her company, and she might have sold off every last one of her mother's pieces. She promised she would take responsibility for me to the end. But I was just as certain that without Cassandra, the channel never would have grown as far as it had. Promotion, content planning, channel and comment management, sales outreach… there was simply too much to do alone. Having someone you could trust truly mattered.
"So, Jun. What are you thinking for the next video?"
"Hmm. The next video…"
Ever since the presentation at Brown House Publishing, I had started feeling that I needed to lay some real groundwork for myself as an influencer. In my mind, becoming a "star" ultimately meant sharing your story with the public, earning their empathy and affection, building a sense of connection, and exchanging ongoing interest — like a friend, a partner, or a neighbor.
Even the recipe book carried a story. It felt like the right time for my videos to move past pure technique and hold a little more of my own narrative, drawn in sharper detail. I wanted to leave behind the pure logbook format — today I made this, today I performed that — and make videos that focused on the lifestyle I hoped to build going forward.
"For one thing, working through the stories for the recipe book with Kelly gave me some ideas."
"'Working on stories' — so you mean you did some creative writing."
As always, Cassandra read between the lines instantly.
"Yeah. So in the same way, I want to organize the stories I plan to weave into the upcoming videos first."
"I like that. But it doesn't sound like a quick job…"
"Right. And we can't just stop uploading in the meantime, so I'm thinking of finally starting the leatherwork I've had in mind for a while."
There was still spare pottery stock, the performance videos went up on a fixed once-a-week schedule, and Luca's clips were mostly short-form. "It should work fine as a time-filler before we try a new video format."
"Agreed. Leatherwork is a whole new spectacle, so the people who love the 'Jun's Workshop' playlist will definitely find it appealing. Honestly, Jun, is there anything you can't do?"
"Haha…"
"If only you'd pick up a little romantic awareness. That night at the after-party, when you deflected every single person's advances — that wasn't on purpose, was it?"
The silence that followed must have screamed that I had no idea what she was talking about. I could practically see Cassandra shaking her head on the other end of the line.
"The fact that you didn't even remember Vanessa tells me you're being sincere. Maybe it's better this way for now. Work and Luca come first, right?"
Whatever the case, I nodded.
"Yeah. I want to save up as fast as I can and start Luca's adoption process."
"Good. Perfect. For a while, let's just keep our eyes forward and run!"
"Look at the texture of this leather, Luca. Pretty, right?"
"Ee-ee! Ah!"
Luca glanced once at the leather I was pointing to, then swung his attention back toward his toys.
"Aaaah!"
"Right. Not interested."
I set him down on the play mat beyond the fence and took my place at the workbench I had already set up in front of it. At last, I was taking on leather craft.
I had been thinking about it for a long time, but the basic materials and equipment cost more than I had expected, so it was a field I had never dared try. That made this moment feel especially satisfying — running my hands again and again over quality vegetable-tanned leather.
At first I had figured I wasn't opening a leather workshop, so ultra-professional gear was unnecessary; a handmade leathercraft kit would be enough for anything I needed to make. In the end, though, I bought a used leather sewing machine. Points worked for secondhand purchases, and even if something needed repair, I was confident I could handle most of it myself…
"Alright then, Luca. What should Daddy make?"
"Aaaah?"
The baby answered absently without even looking at his father, eyes fixed on a picture book. I found him thoroughly impressive. Fine. You do your job. Daddy will do his.
"Let's see…"
Wallets, belts, pouches, bags… I could make anything. It was a field overflowing with classic designs, so copyright was hardly an issue. Whatever I made was going to look stylish right out of the gate.
…That leather briefcase Evan carries looked pretty good.
Not that I ever had much reason to walk around with a briefcase. Then it struck me — there was a bag I could reference and recreate without hunting for designs at all.
The collection bag Mother Superior had given me!
I pulled it from the wardrobe and studied it carefully. No brand. Probably from some small handmade workshop.
"…"
I could show this old bag first, then film the process of making a brand-new one from scratch rather than reforming the original. It would make a solid first leathercraft video. Better than blindly copying a luxury piece or wringing my nonexistent creativity dry for a fresh sketch — a format I could keep running for a long time. Viewer participation might even be possible. People could send photos or actual old leather goods, and I could bring those items back to life. Sounded like fun in its own right.
My fingertips were already buzzing. Time to make one, then.
The bag took longer than I expected. Even working in fits and starts, it was two full days before it was finished. The pride that came with it more than made up for the time.
The color of the new leather bag, the feel of it, the shape — I loved every bit. A stylish diaper bag, complete.
In truth, a lightweight mesh material would have been ideal for a diaper bag, but carrying this one was going to feel good, so a little extra work for my shoulder seemed a fair trade. I really did like leather. And I clearly had a soft spot for classic design.
Leather craft had thoroughly won me over. Even after the Manito App's usage period ended, I wanted to keep it as a hobby. If I had known it would feel like this, I would have tried it much sooner.
Come to think of it, a work apron with canvas body and leather pockets and shoulder straps would turn out nicely too. Clothing design still felt outside my territory, but a work apron made out of actual need sparked a little more drive.
Even if the app disappeared, woodworking, baking, and leather craft were skills I could carry with me as part of life. Clothes, honestly, I could just buy from people who designed them beautifully, so I didn't feel particularly deprived there. Haircuts cost a bit, sure, but a salon handled that fine.
Before the app vanished, I could make baby dolls and baby clothes here and there; he would wear them happily while he was little. Once he got older he would rather buy his own clothes than wear what Dad made, and that was fine too. Then for the remaining time, I could really grind for points and buy a car!
"…"
I smiled a little. Life felt genuinely good. Of course there were still moments of anxiety, moments when things got hard. But good people were around me, the fruit of everything I had worked for was ripening step by step, and there was a future worth looking forward to.
If I just kept going like this… Living diligently, calling Gabriel around the end of the year to start Luca's adoption process — it no longer felt like a pure fantasy.
I was looking at the finished bag with a full heart when the phone buzzed.
Bzzzz…
Mother Superior.
"…"
For a second I wondered what it could be about. The last time she had called, it had been winter — checking whether Luca and I were doing well. Was this another wellness check? A lot of time had passed since then.
Bzzzz…
"…"
That seemed the most likely. She could come across as detached, but she never let anything slip through the cracks.
Bzzzz…
I steadied a heart that had, for some strange reason, jolted with unease, and picked up before it rang too long.
"Hello?"
"Could you stop by with the baby sometime soon?"
True to form — not a scrap of small talk.
"Yes, um… Would the day after tomorrow work? I have work on Saturday, and Sundays are busy for you, right?"
Tomorrow was Thursday; I had to deliver desserts to the first-floor café, and Greg had put together a new set list for the fall performances and wanted a short meeting. Friday, though, should be free.
"Yes. Let's do that."
"Alright. Nothing's wrong, is there?"
Truthfully, I was still a little unsettled. We never kept in regular contact. Aside from that one call to ask how the child was doing, the last time I had received a sudden summons like this and gone to see her, I had met Luca. It had turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to me — but at the time, it had been more than a little overwhelming. And right now, I had no idea why she was calling us in.
Her tone and manner were no different from usual. Then again, she was the kind of person who would spend an ordinary day exactly the same way even if the world were ending tomorrow. So even after I heard her answer, delivered in that same familiar cadence, the meaning of it did not land right away.