Chapter 174
Chapter 174
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 174
Chapter Title: 57. When the Shrinking Bud Blooms (2)
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It started like the melody of a music box.
Delicate. A voice slightly trembling.
A tone so bright and clear it made one wonder if a human voice could truly be this transparent.
Perhaps it was because it didn't sound human at all—like the voice of a child fated to spend her life basking in the adoration of crowds.
Yet the voice brimmed with worry. Each careful pronunciation, each note strung together with evident tension, only heightened the concern. The tense Winter clenched her fists.
A lake so pristine and beautiful, yet ripples kept spreading outward. Just as the children began to feel a touch of bewilderment...
"...".
Gaeul stopped singing.
Even that seemed like part of some musical expression, so the children waited a moment. But the song didn't resume.
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
"What's up? Why'd you stop?"
"Uh, yeah? Why!?"
"Why'd you quit singing midway?"
Yeoreum asked. Gaeul gave an awkward smile.
"I've never tried the part after that...?"
"What? So you always stopped right there?"
"Yeah."
"Even at karaoke?"
"Yeah..."
"Damn it. You're kidding, right? That's why that Yu-ran or Yu-lin or whatever thinks you're a joke. If you're gonna start a song, finish it."
"Is that so...? Ugh..."
"No 'ugh' about it. Do it again. From the start."
"Uwaaah... I, I...!"
Gaeul covered her face with both hands and slumped down.
"I can't. I wanna crawl into a hole..."
Yeoreum clicked her tongue at Gaeul's words, while Bom, finding it cute, let out a laugh.
"Keep going, Gaeul. It was pretty good."
"Huh? Really...?"
"Yeah. But you stopped right where it felt like it was getting even better, which was a shame. Just a little more—why stop there?"
"I just always only practiced up to that point..."
"Always? Even the first time you sang it?"
"Yeah..."
"Why'd you stop there the first time?"
"Just... Yu-ran said I was shaking too much around then and told me to try again next time..."
A silence fell at Gaeul's words.
When Yeoreum finally spoke, all eyes turned to her. She carefully chose her words, but only harsh ones came to mind, so she shut her mouth.
"Let's try again."
Yoo Ji-tae wrapped up the moment.
Gaeul nodded glumly and got back into position.
Then, with a deep breath.
Slowly. She began to sing again.
Once more, a voice clear and pure.
But the anxiety was even greater than before.
Gaeul was like a dancer balancing on the edge of a blade. Beautiful, yet precarious. Serene, yet unsteady.
Her voice trembled. As if desperate not to make a mistake. Winter, even more tense now, gripped Yoo Ji-tae's sleeve tightly with anxious eyes.
Her gaze wandering distractedly across the living room floor only unsettled the audience further.
As they reached the same point as before, Gaeul finally couldn't bear the tension and closed her eyes.
In that instant. The song's texture flipped.
The music-box voice transitioned into the sharp clarity of string instruments.
A bit rough around the edges, unpolished, but as it played, images began to form in the mind.
The lyrics continued.
Even if the path ahead is rough and steep.
Even if a cliff awaits at the end.
I will advance.
If I advance,
"Some time or other...".
Someday, far in the future...
The strength slowly drained from Winter's hand clutching Yoo Ji-tae's sleeve.
But the regressor felt a pang of regret.
The rising pitch was natural, high, and clear, but it lacked the tidal wave surge of BY.
The burst from on high was forceful, but not the cannonball explosion of BY.
The fragile notes trailing after the emotional peak could prick at one's fingertips, but they held no power to shake the tear glands of 44,000 in a stadium.
Apparently, only the regressor felt that way.
When the song ended.
Applause erupted from Bom, Yeoreum, Winter—everyone. Praise followed: 'Not bad.' 'She's good, huh?'
Gaeul opened her tightly shut eyes and asked cautiously.
"W-Was it, o-okay?"
Yoo Ji-tae rubbed his nape.
"Sounded good. Nice."
"...I liked it too. A lot."
Yoo Ji-tae answered, and Winter clapped, saying she'd enjoyed it too.
"Wh-What about you, unni? Why aren't you saying anything?"
"What."
"Huh...? No cursing?"
"Didn't you hear? I said she did well."
"Eh?"
With Yeoreum's approval, Gaeul lost all sense of reality.
Until then, she'd had no inkling that she was actually good at singing. The reaction left her dazed—and disbelieving.
Wait, no? Ajusshi and Winter are biased toward me anyway? And Yeoreum unni's a bit off in the head?
The most honest one was always Bom unni. Gaeul shot her a worried glance. Bom, fiddling with her lower lip, asked with a sulky expression.
"Gaeul, have you ever had a crush in Ascalifa? Or maybe someone you loved died?"
"Huh? No? Why...?"
"No? Weird. The song was just okay—maybe nerves."
"Yeah, yeah."
"But just now, when you sang... it really felt like..."
Bom chose her words carefully, then said awkwardly.
"...a widow mourning her late husband."
* * *
Was it really that good?
The regressor had tin ears. He wasn't great at judging music. All he could think was that it fell short compared to BY.
So he showed the video to Team Leader Yong Do-hee. Her reaction was quite positive too.
"...".
When the song ended, Team Leader Yong beamed.
"Is it okay?"
"Wow, it's good? Who knew Gaeul could sing."
Gaeul had trembled so much that on video, it seemed worse than live, so Yoo Ji-tae had worried a bit.
Not glowing praise, but fortunately, a good response.
"Her voice is so pretty. I had a feeling."
"Does it meet the stage criteria?"
"Yes. The Director needs to approve, but I think it's more than enough."
Team Leader Yong added.
"Voice and pitch are spot-on, but there's a slight unease to it. That's a shame."
"Ah."
"Even accounting for that, it's great. I'd call it 100%. I'll get Director approval and get back to you."
Back at the dorm, Yoo Ji-tae relayed the message to the kids.
Couldn't be certain, but it seemed promising.
"R-Really!?"
Thanks to Team Leader Yong's 100% confidence, they even made a 'chick mask.' Completely different from the one Clone 1 made in America.
"Good job. For real, Gaeul."
"Wasn't gonna go to the festival. Guess I have to now."
The kids congratulated her, and that evening, they ordered chicken to celebrate.
But even with her favorite chicken, Gaeul remained a bit dazed, barely tasting it.
A few days passed like that.
Gaeul practiced humming alone in her room.
Vacation.
The kids were always home, listening from the side and helping with her practice.
After dinner together. Sharing sweets. Naturally, talk turned to the fireworks festival.
Lately, evenings revolved around Gaeul's stories.
That afternoon, Gaeul had gone to a club meeting briefly.
Apparently, she'd spoken to Jung Yu-ran there.
Something felt unresolved, so she vented to her unnis. Yeoreum, turning serious, ordered Gaeul to reenact the moment.
"Do I have to...?"
"Obviously. How else can we diagnose properly?"
Bom nodded in agreement.
Gaeul rolled her eyes, then reluctantly closed them. She vividly recalled the memory.
When she opened them again, a venomous glint lingered at the corners.
"...Oh dear, was that it? I must've gotten the date wrong."
Gaeul smiled leisurely, mimicking someone.
"But saying it like that feels off."
She glanced around furtively.
"It sounds like I gave you the wrong date just to mess with you."
Then she flashed a bright smile again.
That was it. Yeoreum reacted first. Something clicked, and she suddenly grabbed Gaeul by the collar.
"Ugh, you bitch. Let me see that smile again?"
"Uwah...! It's me! Gaeul...!"
"I know."
"Why? Why're you mad? What'd her words sound like to you?"
Yeoreum scowled and placed the salt and pepper shakers on the table.
"Look. Salt's you. Pepper's her."
"Uh, okay."
"In front of other people. Pepper says that to salt."
"Right?"
"So she's aware of everyone else's eyes, but subtly jabbing that you're clueless."
Yeoreum nudged the pepper shaker, slyly toppling the salt.
The startled Gaeul looked to Bom, who nodded too.
"Whoa..."
Soon, she deflated.
"I had no idea... I thought she was my friend..."
Around then, Yoo Ji-tae, sitting with them, rubbed his nape.
In academy life, Bom was indifferent to relationships. Yeoreum always charged straight ahead. So they rarely clashed with anyone.
But Gaeul, who built smooth ties, faced the conflicts typical cadets did.
Their advice would hit home more than his.
"Listen."
Yeoreum spoke with mock gravity.
"You gotta know how to get mad."
"Huh?"
"When she says weird shit, call it out—say it felt off."
"Yeah..."
"So why act like a pushover? Humans'll walk all over you more. Point out what's weird. Blow up when you're pissed. Sulking's just wasteful bullshit. Right?"
"Getting mad is bad, though...? I hate emotional fights..."
"She hurt you."
"Still..."
"Hey. Yoo Gaeul, you idiot."
Yeoreum's face twisted.
"Hear me out."
"Yeah..."
"If someone's gotta get hurt, don't be the victim. Better to be the one dishing it out."
"...".
"I can't stand seeing you as the victim."
At Yeoreum's words, Gaeul clamped her mouth shut.
Her expression grew complicated.
"I thought we were friends..."
Gaeul muttered.
That's when Yoo Ji-tae's watch rang.
"Kids. PR Bureau."
At Yoo Ji-tae's words, the kids shut up.
He turned on speakerphone. Team Leader Yong's voice flowed out.
—Approved! Director said yes too!
"Oh, nice one, Gaeul...!"
"Sweet."
Bom and Yeoreum high-fived around Gaeul.
Gaeul's gloom washed away. Her face brightened as she blinked.
—But, Ji-tae. One issue?
"Issue?"
—Yeah... Gaeul sang "Some time or other," right? And it's her entry for the song festival.
"Yes."
—Problem is, it overlaps with another contestant.
Yoo Ji-tae looked at Gaeul.
Eh? Gaeul looked at Yeoreum.
Yeoreum was the one who'd picked the song.
Because it was Jung Yu-ran's No. 18.
And aspiring singer Jung Yu-ran had entered the masked song festival.
—It's a competition format 'song festival,' so no duplicate songs. Could Gaeul switch to another?
"Did you ask the other contestant?"
—Yes. Checked with them first, but they can't change.
"Got it. Hold on."
He muted the watch.
Yoo Ji-tae asked Gaeul.
"What do you wanna do? Switch?"
The glum Gaeul's eyes widened.
"Uh, me, uh..."
Then, as if struck by something, she looked at Yeoreum.
Soon. Gaeul bit her lip.
Silence stretched. Only her steady breaths. Something brewed—who knew what. A flicker of anger crossed her usually bright face.
Soon, resolved. The hesitation vanished.
Gaeul picked up the salt shaker and knocked over the pepper.
"I won't switch..."
Her vibe shifted. 'That's my girl,' Yeoreum grinned ear to ear.
Yoo Ji-tae unmuted. Sorry, but no switch. Yong Do-hee panicked, speaking to someone. 'Director' flitted by.
—Ah, sorry. A bit late?
"No."
—Rehearsal first. Director'll hear both and pick the better for stage. Okay?
About a week till the festival.
"But rehearsal's next week, right? If we have to switch, no time to prep another song."
—That's why temporary now.
"Temporary."
—Yeah. Two more duplicates anyway. They'll sing too. Deciding today.
In other words.
—Grab the mask and come now?