Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Grandmother's Piano
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Yeonwoo’s grandmother—and Jihoon’s mother—Heo Ok was a woman far more familiar to the world by her stage name, Eileen.
She had divorced her husband, left her child behind, and set off for America to pursue her dreams and achieve success. On the surface, she sounded like a heartless businesswoman, but in reality, she was a jazz pianist.
She had studied jazz in America before moving to Japan, where she primarily performed, making a name for herself in Japan’s jazz scene and eventually the world.
These days, long retired and with jazz being a niche genre in Korea, she was virtually unknown there. But if she so much as cleared her throat in Japan, a horde of jazz figures would come running, bowing at 90 degrees and calling her “Sensei.”
Ironically, after retiring, she had chosen to live a reclusive life—not quite seclusion—in her home country, where hardly anyone knew her.
The people she saw were limited to a handful of Korean jazz musicians who occasionally visited, her daughter with whom she had reconciled after retirement, and the grandson her daughter had brought over a couple of times.
Ah, and now one more had been added.
Not just added, but now living with her.
Heo Ok crouched down with an expressionless face and gazed at the child who would now be sharing her home.
He had porcelain-pale skin, with delicate features packed neatly together—an extraordinarily pretty child.
If her son hadn’t said he was her grandson, she might have mistaken him for a granddaughter.
The boy was clutching his father’s pant leg, peeking out from behind at her.
“You must be Yeonwoo.”
*Nod nod.*
Heo Ok had heard the full story about Yeonwoo from her son.
A child who had lost his voice.
Whether it was because of that, or because she had grown more sentimental with age, even someone as seemingly cold-blooded as her felt a natural surge of sympathy.
“Well, nice to meet you. I’m your… grandmother.”
The word “grandmother” didn’t come easily. It just wasn’t familiar on her tongue.
But she had to accept it.
After all, she’d been a grandmother for a full six years now.
“Come on in.”
“Yes, please take care of Yeonwoo for a bit. I’ll bring in the luggage.”
“Need any help?”
“No, it’s heavy. Better if I do it alone quickly. I borrowed a cart, so I’ll load it up.”
Her son, just as curt as she was, headed out briskly.
She watched him go for a moment, then turned to the now-lonely Yeonwoo and led the way inside.
“Come on in.”
Yeonwoo watched his grandmother’s retreating back.
It was a strange sight.
The fairies who had hidden themselves desperately whenever he saw his maternal grandmother, uncle, or aunt—and who wouldn’t even stick around in front of Dad—were now following her like children trailing the Pied Piper.
What on earth was going on?
Faced with a situation he’d never seen before—except with his mom—Yeonwoo unwittingly followed her into the house, just like the fairies.
He took off his shoes in the entryway and stepped into the living room, where his eyes were instantly captured by the grand piano standing proudly in the center.
Drawn in by its majestic presence, Yeonwoo stared blankly.
“Do you like the piano?”
Heo Ok asked, watching him.
Yeonwoo turned to look at his grandmother and nodded.
“Have you ever played the piano?”
*Shake shake.*
Yeonwoo shook his head and mouthed the word.
‘Mom.’
“Ah…….”
It wasn’t as if there was some major taboo, but Heo Ok hesitated to bring up the child’s deceased mother.
Was it okay to talk about Mom with him?
What if he burst into tears at the memory?
“Why is there a piano in the living room…….”
Just then, Jihoon walked in with the luggage.
“Isn’t it better to have it out here than sitting empty?”
Jihoon nodded at Heo Ok’s words.
“True… I can’t even imagine you sitting idly on the sofa watching TV, Mom.”
Heo Ok let out a cynical chuckle at that and said,
“There are three empty rooms in this house besides my master bedroom. They’re all unused, so turn them into closets or bedrooms or whatever you like.”
“Got it. Mind if I take a look around?”
“Go ahead.”
Jihoon checked out the empty rooms.
Just as Heo Ok said, they were completely bare.
“But… if you’re just going to leave them like this, why buy such a big house…….”
Still, true to her personality, the rooms were spotless, without a speck of dust.
“If you need furniture, just say so.”
Her mother’s voice came from afar.
“I can handle that much.”
“It’s my house.”
“…….”
With one sentence, she was saying it was her home, so she’d furnish it her way, to her taste.
Even though they hadn’t lived together long, Jihoon understood perfectly.
“There’s an unused closet in the smallest room. Put your clothes there.”
“Got it.”
As Jihoon bustled about unpacking clothes and luggage into that room, Yeonwoo’s gaze remained fixed on the piano.
And Heo Ok was watching Yeonwoo.
Or more precisely, they were both looking back at the past together.
The time she had left for America……
‘Jihoon was around that age……?’
Jihoon had been Yeonwoo’s size.
Thinking of her past self—how she had steeled her heart and left that tiny child behind—Heo Ok reevaluated herself.
‘You were one cold bitch, weren’t you?’
How could she have even thought of leaving such a little kid?
Sure, it had helped her achieve her dreams.
Heo Ok smiled bitterly and, almost unconsciously, reached out to pat Yeonwoo’s head.
The boy flinched in surprise and looked up at her.
“Want me to play the piano for you?”
Yeonwoo’s eyes sparkled as he nodded vigorously at her question.
“Let’s see…….”
She opened the piano lid.
Suddenly, it struck her how long it had been since she last performed.
She played occasionally when the urge hit, but even that was over a year ago.
She’d thought retirement wouldn’t stop her from playing piano, but surprisingly, distancing herself had been easy.
Even though it had been her life, her everything.
“Hm, hm.”
After gazing at the piano with wistful eyes, she sat down.
*Ding.*
As the meaningless note from the struck key rang out, Heo Ok’s performance began.
A deeply familiar jazz melody flowed forth, and she soon immersed herself, playing freely.
Yeonwoo watched, utterly entranced.
Every time she played, fairies burst from the keys like fireworks.
Empowered by the sound, they revealed a radiant, mystical glow Yeonwoo had never seen before, floating and swimming around Heo Ok.
But his awe was short-lived.
Yeonwoo began to feel a subtle discomfort every time she hit certain keys.
Sure enough.
The moment she struck one key, a small, reddish fairy popped up from it and vanished in an instant.
It was the first fairy with a red hue.
Unthinkingly, Yeonwoo reached toward the key from which the red fairy had emerged.
A dissonant note clashed with the ecstatic jazz, and her hand stopped.
“Hm? What’s wrong?”
“…….”
Yeonwoo panicked for a moment, then pressed the key again.
She tilted her head.
“Do you want to try playing it?”
As she spoke, Heo Ok habitually glanced at Yeonwoo’s fingers.
For a child, they were slender and long.
Not bad hands for piano, she thought.
“Your piano skills are still as sharp as ever.”
A voice came from behind.
Heo Ok turned to look at her son.
It sounded like praise, but there was bite to his words.
His voice was laced with resentment, anger, and unrelenting negativity.
“I played because the kid seemed interested.”
“Mom used to play lullabies and such for him all the time while she was alive. Not jazz.”
With that, Jihoon said, “Yeonwoo, let’s go change into pajamas,” and led him away.
Left alone in the vast living room, she stared at the door of the room where her son and grandson had gone.
It was firmly shut.
She could not open that door herself.
A bitter smile crept onto her face unbidden.
* * *
They spent the first day at Grandmother’s house.
“Did our Yeonwoo wake up?”
As he stirred and sat up, Jihoon—uncannily awake—spotted him right away.
Yeonwoo looked at Jihoon and nodded.
“Our Yeonwoo’s an early riser, huh? Aigoo, my back. Did you wake up early because the floor’s uncomfortable? Bare floor’s no good, is it?”
Yeonwoo tilted his head at that.
To him, who had always slept on the bare floor with just a summer blanket, even the thin topper felt plush.
Freshly washed and sun-dried, it even smelled nice, lulling him right to sleep.
Looks like Dad finds even this topper uncomfortable.
“Yeonwoo, Dad’s off to earn money. Be good for Grandmother, okay?”
While Yeonwoo rolled around in the blankets, Jihoon finished getting ready for work in a flash, planted a kiss on his forehead, and left.
After Dad was gone, Yeonwoo looked around the house.
It was quiet; Grandmother must still be in dreamland.
His gaze naturally drifted to the piano.
Even though no one was around, Yeonwoo crept toward it stealthily, glancing about.
The piano alone made his heart race just looking at it. He found the key that had made the bad sound yesterday and pressed it lightly.
Pressing gently and slowly produced no sound.
He pressed a bit harder.
*Ding.*
Sure enough, the red fairy popped out and vanished instantly.
He felt sorry for the fairy, but even in that brief glimpse, it looked grumpy and mean.
Puffing indignantly every time it emerged wasn’t scary—it was somehow comical. Yeonwoo found himself pressing the key repeatedly.
The more he pressed, the harder he pressed, the longer the red fairy lingered, greeting him with an ever more sullen scowl.
“Yeonwoo?”
That was when he heard a voice from the master bedroom.
Yeonwoo jumped, looked around wildly, and fled into the room.
He was afraid of getting scolded for touching Grandmother’s piano without permission.
Seeing Yeonwoo like that, Heo Ok chuckled softly, then grew serious and approached the piano.
She closely examined the key Yeonwoo had been tapping away at.
She pressed it.
Once more.
And again.
Listening intently, she detected the faintest pitch deviation.
“…Am I getting old? No, the piano’s the one aging.”
This piano had been with her for a long time.
Back before she was famous, when money was tight, she had splurged on it.
She had cherished and maintained it daily, but after retirement, neglect had let problems creep in.
She cleaned the exterior meticulously every day, but like people, pianos could rot from the inside out where it didn’t show.
Heo Ok called her longtime acquaintance, the tuner, and sat at the piano.
Then she glanced toward the room.
Unlike yesterday, the firmly closed door was slightly ajar.
The world’s prettiest little boy was peeking out cautiously, finger in mouth.
Heo Ok waved him over.
Yeonwoo approached tentatively.
“Our Yeonwoo has good ears, doesn’t he?”
Smiling at the blank-faced boy, she played a light piece.
Even excluding the faulty key Yeonwoo had found, a fantastical jazz melody flowed from the keys.
It might be too complex and not to a child’s taste, but Yeonwoo watched her playing with an entranced expression.
Despite their lack of resemblance, the sight evoked someone from her past.
“Like the song?”
Yeonwoo nodded at her question and pointed at the piano.
What did that mean?
Pondering, Heo Ok decided to say what she wanted.
“What I played is called jazz.”
And with pride, she added,
“It’s the most sophisticated genre among music styles with a long history.”