#13 - Even Her Prop Prep Is Perfect
"Alright, everyone! Today we're making the play props! Stage crew, over here, please~"
At the first club meeting of April, the stage crew had to make props for the play.
Honestly, The Merchant of Venice doesn't really need that many props in the first place.
We already had the bare minimum of a set, so what was left for us to make were the tools for the courtroom scene and the knife—arguably the single most important prop in the whole play.
The material was simple: styrofoam.
"Is styrofoam really okay? Don't we have something better?"
"This is the safest option. I was going to ask about using a 3D printer at first, but apparently that's a hazard too."
Just round off the tip with a 3D printer and you're done, no?
Even as that thought crossed my mind, I couldn't ignore the teacher's position—he had to plan for every 'just in case'—so I reluctantly nodded along.
But of course, being me, I couldn't hold back a more efficient suggestion for long.
"Then again... if that's all we're doing, wouldn't it be easier to just buy a toy dagger? You could get one for like 2,000 won."
"I asked him that too, but he said making the props ourselves is a good learning experience."
Well, when you put it that way, I can't really argue.
"Okay then, what should I make?"
"You make that thing."
"That thing?"
"You know, the... uh... argh, what's it called."
"A gavel?"
"Yeah, yeah. That. A gavel."
I have to make a gavel too?
Hmm...
"Out of styrofoam?"
"What else? Styrofoam."
"But if you make it out of styrofoam, it won't make that 'thwack thwack thwack' sound."
"Oh, that? We're just going to play a sound effect recording."
How could you inflict such hardship on someone who's trying his very best to avoid doing any work at all?
"Ugh... Fine. What other set pieces do we need?"
"Oh, we need to paint one of those village backdrops... but that's going to the first-years."
"The first-years? You sure that's a good idea? Wouldn't it be better to give them the small props instead?"
"Hmm, that's true... Mmm... Yeah, let's give them the small props."
Apparently my opinion had struck him as reasonably sound, because Kim Haneul went ahead and adopted it.
And so the stage crew set about making props together.
The first-years mostly handled the small props, while the second-years took the set pieces.
My own role was extremely simple.
"Cut some styrofoam for me."
"You got it~"
Styrofoam cutting.
It was menial labor, but precisely because of that, it required zero artistic talent.
-Vrrrrrrr
-Vrrrrrrrrr
I cut the styrofoam, handed it off, and the other second-years took care of the rest from there.
Perfect. As long as things stayed like this, there was no way my terrible drawing skills would get exposed.
Or so I thought. I was dead wrong.
"Sorry, but you go help with the small props."
"Me? Why?"
"Things are moving too slowly over there."
So off I was sent to the small-props table.
And once I got there...
...Yeah. First-years were, unmistakably, first-years.
Something about it—everything about it—was just sloppy.
Except there was exactly one person whose work wasn't sloppy at all, and was in fact remarkably clean and precise.
"Oh, Sunbae. You came...?"
It was Soye, hard at work on the dagger.
And the dagger taking shape in her hands looked shockingly convincing.
"Whoa... how—what did you even do here?"
"This? I cut the styrofoam, glued the pieces together, carved it into shape, and painted it."
What the—what's with all this detail?
As I stood there blinking in disbelief, Soye tilted her head slightly.
Then she broke into a bright smile and asked me a question.
"Is there anything you need me to draw, by any chance?"
"Uh... no, I don't really need any drawing done..."
"Oh, I see."
"Yeah, I actually came over to help the first-years."
"Hmmm... Sunbae, could you maybe help us make the nameplates, then?"
"Nameplates?"
"Yes, the nameplates."
I looked over at the nameplate table, where the other first-year girls were diligently working on little wooden boxes.
Except there was one problem...
"Hnnngghhh...!"
They were supposed to be folding paper boxes, and the paper refused to fold.
Wait. Paper boxes. Wouldn't those be perfect for making the gavel?
With that thought, I headed over to the juniors wrestling with the paper boxes.
"I'll fold them for you."
"Ah...! Please do...!"
I gave the juniors—who scrambled out of their seats—a light nod, then set about folding the paper boxes right away.
-Crease
-Crisp-crack
The moment the boxes folded flat, the first-years' eyes went wide and sparkly.
Which, admittedly, was a little embarrassing.
"Don't these need to be glued?"
"Ah...!"
"Right, glue! The hot glue gun!"
After that, I fetched the hot glue gun, glued the folded boxes together, sealed up the sides, and gave them a quick coat of paint. Pretty convincing nameplates, if I said so myself.
"Thank you...!"
"Thank you!"
"Good work, everyone. Oh, do you have any spare paper boxes?"
"Paper boxes? Here you go..."
"Thanks."
With a small bow, I took the paper box, cut it to a decent size, and started rolling it up by brute force.
-Grrrrrrunch...!
As the paper box began curling into a rounded shape, Soye—who had drifted over to watch at some point—asked me a question.
"Sunbae, why are you rolling that up all of a sudden...?"
"I'm making, the gavel, out of this...!"
"You're making a gavel out of that...?"
"There—done—!!"
The gavel was supposed to look like a hammer with two round cylinders joined together, after all.
So if I just rolled it up like this, it ought to turn out reasonably decent, right?
"Soye, do you have any tape or a glue gun? I want to hold this together."
"Ah... tape would probably work better for this. One second...!"
Soye brought back the tape and began sticking everything together with practiced ease, here and there and everywhere.
At some point it basically felt like the whole thing had just been encased in tape, but what emerged was a fairly respectable-looking cylinder.
"Phew... Nice, thanks, Soye."
"Hehe, it was nothing~ So, now we make the other one, right?"
"That's right. But the other one can be thin, so it should be easy."
And in fact, the next cylinder could be made thin and easy...
"Okay, that's it for today~ Great work, everyone~"
Club time was already over.
"I guess this'll have to wait until next time. We do have meetings until next week, after all."
"Until next week? Do we have anything else on the schedule?"
"We have club meetings through next week exactly, and then from the week after it's exam season, so no meetings."
"Ah..."
At the words 'exam season,' Soye gave a small, quiet nod.
If we held club meetings during exam season, we'd basically be living in a Japanese light novel. Then again, even in Japan, joining club activities during exams would just mean sacrificing your study time, wouldn't it?
"Thanks for your hard work, Sunbae~"
"Good work out there~!"
After returning Soye's farewell, I carried the paper-box cylinder I'd made over to Kim Haneul.
"Behold—the head of an absolutely legendary gavel."
"Oh, not bad. Paint it with acrylics and it'll look pretty solid."
"Right?"
"You made this by hand-rolling the paper and sticking it together?"
"Yep yep. Good eye."
"Whoaaa... you've got some absurdly brute strength there, man."
"Excuse me?"
Bickering and bantering all the while, I still made sure to stow it away safely in the props box.
"Can you go put the props box away?"
"Sure, fine."
I picked up the props box and was about to head inside when...
"Um, Sunbae? May I help you with that...?"
"Huh...? Soye?"
"You helped me before, so this time let me help you."
Sweet, adorable Soye, offering to help.
"No, it's fine."
"But I can help too."
Her cheeks puffed out just a little.
Watching her, I shook my head.
"No, really, it's fine. All I have to do is put this away."
"But still..."
As Soye pursed her lips, seemingly searching for what else she could say, Kim Haneul offered up a conveniently good compromise.
"We've gotta haul the leftover materials out anyway. They're not heavy, so Soye, why don't you carry those?"
"Ah... Yes!"
Soye nodded, gathered up the leftover materials, then came and stood beside me and started smiling with pure, unbridled pride.
As if to say, 'I have a job to do too!'
There was something about Soye standing there so confidently that was incredibly cute. She was a cute girl to begin with, but if she was this cute even like this, then seriously—when would she ever not be cute?
"Let's go. We need to put this in the gym storage room too."
"Okay...! But why the gym storage of all places?"
"They said there's nowhere else to keep it."
"Ah..."
It had the distinct flavor of 'adults' reasons,' but there was nothing to be done about it.
Anyway, that's how Soye and I ended up heading to the gym together, stepping inside the storage room, and stashing the goods away.
-Thud!
-Whump!
The moment Soye and I set the things down together and turned to walk back outside—
"Hey, watch out!!!"
Someone's voice rang out.
The instant I turned my head toward it—
-Buuuuuuzz!
A ball was flying toward us.
Not at me—at the head of Soye, walking right beside me.
-Whoosh!
-Smack!! THWACK!!
"Ow...!"
"Kyaa! Sunbae...!"
I yanked Soye hard toward me, and the ball hit me instead.
The result of that pure instinct: the basketball slammed into somewhere between my ribs and my chest, then dropped to the floor, leaving me to shake off the sudden airborne assault on my body.
In pain, of course.
"Aghhhh..."
"Sunbae, are you okay...!? Are you hurt anywhere...!"
"I'm fine. It just hit me in the chest, that's all."
The moment those words left my mouth—
"Hey, I'm really sorry. You okay?"
One of the guys who'd been playing basketball came over and offered an apology.
And that guy, of all people, was—
"...Sun Woo-bin?"
It was Sun Woo-bin.