Will You Adopt Me?

I wake from a deep, long sleep. The headache and dizziness that plagued me before losing my memories are completely gone, replaced by a refreshing clarity that washes over my entire body. The first thing I see upon rising from the pleasant bed is the IV line connected to my slender arm. Below it, on the table, sits a calendar.

“Ah.”

I’ve woken up in a hospital room to greet my thirteenth year.

***

“Aah—”

“Hmm, you’re looking good now. You can be discharged.”

The attending physician who came for rounds checked my throat and asked ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a few more questions before nodding in satisfaction. The orphanage director, who had been standing watch at my side, let out a sigh of relief and bowed to the doctor.

“Thank you so much, Doctor.”

“The child seems a bit frail. Her height and weight are below average for her age… It’s not malnutrition, but you should make sure she eats a balanced, hearty diet. Does she have any particular constitution?”

“Well…”

The director glanced at me, then turned away to whisper privately with the doctor. I was curious about my own body too, but I understood the adult’s consideration for the child and deliberately looked away. At the end of my gaze was a figure from the hazy memories of my final moments.

“Why are you here, sir?”

“…You seem like a completely different person from when I first saw you.”

“Illness changes people.”

“Is that so.”

In my blurred memories, I hadn’t been able to make proper judgments, but I knew I had done something wrong—something deeply shameful. I needed to erase that memory. Instead, I put on a shameless front and faced him.

“So why are you here?”

“I went to volunteer and played with a little kid for the first time. That kid fainted in my arms and got taken to the hospital, remember? When I heard she’d woken up, it wouldn’t be right to call myself a decent person if I didn’t come visit.”

“That’s true.”

“So, being the proper person and excellent adult that I am, I came to see the kid despite my busy schedule.”

“You really are an excellent adult. Out of respect, I’ll call you ‘elder’ instead.”

Lee Seongbeom burst into loud laughter at my words. Tears welled in his eyes as he clutched his stomach, desperately trying to muffle the sound so as not to disturb the other patients.

“…What’s so funny?”

“You’re a complete old soul, aren’t you? Totally different from our first impression.”

“The sick me wasn’t me, elder.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. The Seo Sua who said ‘Please hug me, mister~’ isn’t the Seo Sua lying in this hospital bed right now.”

“Ack!”

How had I been trying to dodge that?! Blood rushed to my face in an instant, burning hot. I grabbed the pillow beside me and threw it, but Lee Seongbeom caught it lightly with one hand and grinned mischievously. Chuckling, he tossed the pillow back at my face.

This body really did have poor motor skills. I tried to block it with my hand, but it only swiped through empty air. The soft pillow smacked me squarely in the face before falling to the floor.

“……”

“…Sir, a normal kid would’ve cried.”

“Sorry.”

Realizing he’d gotten carried away, he apologized without protest. Even though he’d thrown it lightly and the pillow was soft, my face still stung. Our excitement cooled in an instant, and we both coughed awkwardly before resuming the conversation.

“Ahem… Sorry about that. For some reason, we just click like we’ve known each other for a long time… Is your body feeling better now?”

“It is. My body’s fine. I’m completely healthy.”

“That’s a relief.”

He smiled sincerely.

-Supporting character, did you finally find what you wanted to do? Do you know how worried I’ve been all this time?

-I’m glad.

The man in my memories had smiled just as sincerely. Unlike those memories, he had no messy beard, no crow’s feet around his eyes, and no visible white hair. Memories—whether past, recollection, or delusion—flowed out on their own and overlapped with reality. I swallowed back the words that almost slipped out and instead smiled calmly.

“Putting aside whether you’re a proper or excellent adult… You came because of what I said, didn’t you?”

The words I had spoken. ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The small secret I had whispered only to him, so no one else could hear. Upon hearing it, he had approached me with familiarity. Logically, if a child he’d just met said something like that, most people would dismiss it as nonsense. But Lee Seongbeom’s common sense was different from ordinary people’s.

I introduced myself again.

“I’m Seo Sua, twelve years old… no, thirteen now. I uploaded a video titled Editing Practice under the nickname Dancing Raccoon not long ago. You came to our orphanage looking for me, didn’t you, sir?”

“You really edited that?”

“If you don’t believe me, I can show you. It looks like you brought your laptop.”

Lee Seongbeom always carried his laptop with him. So he could work whenever an idea for a script struck or there was editing to be done. He pulled the laptop from his bag and set it in front of me, then opened the editing program. It had been a while since I’d seen a proper paid program. The screen displayed a project file that looked like it was for YouTube.

“Think you can do what I described?”

“Of course.”

I nodded confidently. After all, this program was familiar to me. He spoke with a skeptical expression.

“Let’s copy the project and work on that. I’ll tell you the camera angles—try adding the rest yourself. Start with camera 3 and zoom in. Then switch to camera 5 for a wide shot while tracking the faces so the photos don’t cover them. Move to cameras 2 and 4 next. Boost the staff audio in this part, and adjust the white balance on that one since it’s too dark. Crop the next cut to 21:9 and give it a noir feel. Then close-ups on the people while—”

***

Is what I’m seeing right now reality? Lee Seongbeom couldn’t help but think so.

A elementary school student doing video editing was somewhat understandable. These days, kids grow up playing on computers from a young age, unlike before. But that wasn’t what was surprising.

‘She makes it look way too easy.’

People say that if someone makes something look incredibly easy, they’re highly skilled. Their vast knowledge and proficiency ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the field make the task seem effortless, creating the illusion that “I could do that too.”

The girl’s work was exactly that—effortless. The instructions I gave didn’t require advanced techniques, but without knowing the functions, you’d have to repeat simple actions multiple times. Yet she utilized every function seamlessly, following my directions without hesitation.

But that wasn’t what surprised him most.

‘Technical skills can be memorized and practiced, but this sense…’

Every time subtitles appeared, she added sound effects. Background music that fit the scene perfectly. Effects that made everything more dynamic. It all came together so naturally, without a single hitch. No—it felt fresh. It was exactly the same sensation I’d felt when I first watched that video on YouTube.

“It really is you.”

“I don’t lie.”

Due to the nature of his job, he met all kinds of talents. Mostly comedians, actors, singers, and idols, and occasionally athletes or others who appeared on TV from different fields. After meeting so many people, he’d naturally learned to distinguish between two types: those whose talent had bloomed, and those who had built their abilities through effort.

Even in the entertainment industry, not everyone had talent. There were successful comedians without comedic talent and successful actors without acting talent. Of course, they must have put in tremendous effort compared to the naturally gifted, but in the end, there was still a noticeable gap.

Yet there were exceptional people among them. For example, if you divided ability into 100 points, those with talent started at 50, while those without started at 0. Both could reach 80 or 90 through effort or by unleashing their talent. But there was a wall they couldn’t ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cross. Those who broke through that wall—I called them exceptional.

People who had both bloomed their talent and built their abilities. After years as a PD, I had gained the ability to recognize such people. The girl standing before me with a triumphant expression was exactly that kind of person.

‘Skills can be built, but this sense… it has to be talent.’

Her technical skill was outstanding, and her sense for crafting videos was excellent too. A burning desire to keep this genius close and make her even greater welled up inside him. But her circumstances made it impossible.

“…To be honest, I came here to cast Dancing Raccoon for my team. After watching the video on YouTube, I felt a certain potential. The potential that working with this person could create even more entertaining content.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. But I’ll have to give up. Can’t be helped.”

“Why?”

“How could I cast a minor, especially an elementary school student? And if some guy who came to volunteer starts suggesting this to a young girl, he’ll end up in handcuffs.”

It was impossible both morally and legally. He’d had such high hopes, but now only a sigh escaped him. Was he really going to have to wait until this kid grew up? She was in fifth grade now… no, sixth grade. Six years until adulthood, or four if he hired her as a part-timer at fifteen. No matter how he thought about it, it was such a waste.

As he scratched his head in frustration, the kid spoke up hesitantly.

“Um, then…”

As if she’d been wanting to say this for a while. She spoke with an expectant expression.