Chapter 57
Chapter 57
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 57
Chapter Title: 12. The Unreachable
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How would I know how to write like a kid?
What I'm trying to say is this: one day, I spotted an intriguing post on the classroom bulletin board at school. It was a poster for a writing contest aimed at elementary school students. Hosted by the city, it offered a chance to advance to the provincial competition if you placed, and from there to nationals. But none of that mattered—what hooked me was the categories. Poetry, essay, fiction. The moment I saw them, I suddenly felt this urge to write a novel.
There was no set theme or genre. But since it was for kids, fantasy was probably off-limits. A literary novel or maybe a romance with some dreamy vibes would work. Something along those lines.
In my past life, I'd been a fantasy novelist through and through, but that didn't mean I ignored literary fiction. Heck, I'd written plenty of it—mostly coming-of-age stories centered on romance, growth, and healing.
So yeah, I entered the contest.
It was a short story about personal growth. Short or not, it filled about twenty A4 pages to the brim. Oh, and get this—in our advanced twenty-first century, the rules insisted on handwriting it on manuscript paper (probably because it was a student contest). So I wrote it on the computer first, polished it up, then copied it by hand onto the paper. On the first sheet, I included my home address, phone number, school, grade, and class, just like the poster said.
About a month later, I started wondering. At first, fresh off submitting, I'd been buzzing as a former pro novelist entering a kids' contest—obviously I'd crush it. There was even a small cash prize; I'd use it for pocket money. But results weren't due until a month after the deadline, and by then I was swamped with magic training. I'd all but forgotten I'd entered.
Not that surprising—magic training was just too damn fun!
Once they acknowledged my talent, I set my sights higher. Practicing magic with more confidence made it grow faster somehow. I loved it even more now; training felt way more enjoyable than before. My master would occasionally gaze at me with a pleased smile. And honestly? I was starting to adore my master too.
Then it happened.
Was it an "incident," or just the inevitable finally arriving? Hard to say.
One day, Inha casually pulled something from her desk drawer and plopped it down like it was no big deal. We all knew what it was instantly. Colored stationery, simple yet elegant. Heart sticker. Love letter!
"What's this?"
"Whoa..."
Staring at that classic love letter format after so long, I got all nostalgic. Yeah, makes sense—she was at that age. Kids around ten, third graders, start getting super interested in the opposite sex. Inha's looks? This was overdue.
This was just the spark. Soon she'd be flooded with confessions. Not right away, maybe, but it was inevitable.
Watching Inha inspect the letter, I felt a strange unfamiliarity and got lost in thought for a moment.
Truth be told, in my past life, I'd seen tons of love letters. Not addressed to me, of course... but to my boyfriend back then. Hate to admit it, but the guy was drop-dead gorgeous. Way too good for me, honestly—celebrity-level handsome.
So he was popular. Daily love letters, birthday gifts, chocolates on Valentine's, candy on White Day, Pepero on Pepero Day... the dude got at least an envelope's worth on every holiday. So damn enviable.
Inha was on another level—way prettier than him. So yeah, this was late coming.
"Eunha, why're you spacing out?"
"Huh? Oh, just shocked. You're at that age already?"
"What?"
Hyunho and Inha gave me puzzled looks. I smiled.
"Open the letter."
"Okay..."
Inha nodded, peeled off the sticker, stuck it haphazardly by the desk, and pulled out the contents. I grabbed Hyunho before he could peek, his face all curious. Inha shot me a weird look, unfolded the paper, and started reading.
"..."
Silence.
I realized right away she was freaking out inside. Her face looked blank, but those slightly wider eyes trembling gave it away. Soon, she turned to me with a troubled expression.
"Um, Eunha... what do I do with this?"
"Whatever you want."
Reject or accept—it was her call. But if I had my say, reject. Third grade was way too early for dating. Too late is one thing, but too soon is just as bad.
At my words, Inha's face returned to its usual blankness. She neatly folded the letter, slipped it back into the envelope, and tucked it into her drawer. She'd left the drawer open as usual—that's how they slipped it in. Otherwise, probably between locker doors or on her chair or desk.
"I'll reject it."
She said it flatly. Sure, this age sparked curiosity about the opposite sex, but the line between innocent affection and real romantic love was blurry. Inha probably didn't get it yet.
I gave a wry smile. Love's different for everyone, but how many had it as frustrating as mine? Even now—pining for some guy I didn't know how or when I'd meet.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. No idea what it says, and I don't care."
"I see."
Would this doll-like beauty ever fall head over heels for someone? The thought made my chest ache. I might not let her marry anyone. If any weirdo tries—bam!
Just then, the front door slid open, and the teacher walked in. Too early for homeroom. She scanned the kids, her eyes landing on me. As I wondered why, she called.
"Eunha, come with me for a sec?"
All eyes turned to me. I shrugged awkwardly in the unfamiliar spotlight. But the attention faded fast—kids went back to chatting. Hyunho, Inha, and I just blinked in confusion.
"What? Why'd she call you?"
"Dunno."
"You're not in trouble or anything..."
"Yeah..."
Inha was right—I hadn't done anything wrong. Probably nothing big. I stood casually.
"I'll be back. Tell you what it's about after."
"Yeah."
"See ya."
They waved me off with smiles. I smiled back and followed the teacher out. She led me to the staff room.
"Here's the thing..."
She sat, pulling out a brown envelope and opening it. White papers inside. Top one was a certificate: Seoul Metropolitan City Elementary School Writing Contest, Fiction Category, Gold Prize. Behind it, a small white envelope with prize money—about 200,000 won for city level.
Ah, right—results time. I'd forgotten.
Beaming, I took it from her. She looked surprised, flustered even.
"You entered this?"
"Yeah... I love writing."
"I see... This is run by the national education office... Here, official notice. You're Seoul's rep for fiction. There's even judge feedback on your story."
Judge comments... I took the notice tensely. She continued.
"Seoul doesn't belong to a province, so they bumped you straight to nationals. Top ranks there get published in a magazine."
Hmm... I frowned thoughtfully. Published? I asked carefully.
"Does it include photos, like my face?"
"Yeah, that's the plan."
"Ugh..."
Straightening my fragile pride, I thought: I'm a former novelist. No way my story flops in a kids' national contest.
My face in a magazine. Should've written it more kid-like. But nah.
*How would I know how to write like a kid?*
My pride wouldn't allow it. I pour my heart into every piece—always my best. Anything less? No dice. Unless I went full elementary mode, which I wouldn't.
After hesitating, I nodded. It wasn't like I'd do this again. Not planning to be a novelist this life anyway.
"Got it... Oh, Teacher, what magazine? Do kids read it much?"
"Nah, not really."
"Oh... okay."
I stared up at her blankly. She got it, smiled, nodded.
"Alright, back to class."
"Yes."
I turned to leave. I'd just wanted to submit a story for fun—didn't expect this. Walking the hall, I paused on the stairs to skim the notice. Formal stuff: advancing to nationals, congrats. Next page: feedback.
*The short story 'Sky Flowers' is profoundly emotional. Penmanship beyond an elementary student's years, delicate emotional descriptions—every word, every sentence drips with feeling. The gentle, understated prose builds to evoke deep感動 and tears.*
Not just one—multiple judges. Unanimous gold for fiction, across all categories. They all praised the same: emotional depth, beautiful sentiments.
Of course. That's what I focus on most. Know why I started writing? To make people cry. When stories moved me to tears, I dreamed mine would do the same.
Even "genius." I chuckled. In an elementary contest, it'd better call me that. I'd poured over fifty years into novels—first life dying old, second regressing and dying of illness.
Magic's my priority now, but novels are eternal for me. Gold in a kids' contest? Thrilled.
I returned to class beaming, whispering the news amid the chatter. Hyunho's eyes went wide. Inha's too.
"Wait... yeah, you submitted that story a month ago?"
"Yeah. Gold. 200,000 won."
"Eunha, you're amazing! Wrote that well? I knew you read a ton, but..."
I giggled at Hyunho's praise. Gotta tell Minhee and Hansu. I pulled out my phone, group text.
Then... *Yoon Siha* caught my eye.
I hesitated. Hadn't hung with Siha much lately. But she was a friend. Should tell her. Sent it.
Minhee and Hansu replied instantly.
```
From: Joo Minhee
For real??!!! ☉ㅁ☉;;;
Whoa, Eunha. Not just magic......you're too much!!
Congrats tho!!
```
```
From: Park Hansu
Dude, honestly
Wasn't it obvious??
```
I stared at Hansu's. Since first grade, dude—what do you think I am?
Superhuman? That's you guys!!
I shot back playfully. Midway, Inha snatched my phone, fired a zinger at Hansu. He clocked it was her, counterattacked. They bickered via text. Cute.
Before class, I checked incoming. No Siha yet.
Maybe missed it, or forgot phone. No reply all day.
That night, rolling in bed late with my phone, it hit me: Siha and us were drifting apart.
Checked call/text logs. Top: Inha. Then Hansu, Minhee, Hyunho neck-and-neck. Next: Je-hyeon oppa, Eunhee unnie. Teachers, parents, Yujeong unnie, Inho oppa occasionally.
Siha's same third grade—just steps away. But past half-year, I'd texted Yujeong unnie (sporadic) more than Siha.
Complicated expression. Long time since this feeling. It crept up slow.
As I glared at my phone, it lit up. Envelope icon. Tapped it.
Transparent text window popped.
```
From: Yoon Siha
For real? Impressive^^ As expected of Eunha....
Sorry for late reply....
```
Eyes wide. Thought she'd ghost.
Staring, complicated again. If we're drifting, why?
Natural? Personalities clash. New friends in her class. Happens easy.
Or... face darkened. Because of talent...?
I bit my lip, closed phone, rolled over, pulled blanket over head.
"Something bothering you?"
"Huh?"
I jolted up, gasping. Mana made me sturdier—usually I'd savor it, but not today. Master nailed it.
"..."
Catching breath, I schooled my face. Siha's face lingered.
No use dwelling. Her choice, maybe nothing. But I knew: among us, she's just average. Knowing that... can't stop worrying.
Scratched head.
"No. Just... worried about something briefly. But it'll be fine."
Master watched, nodded slowly.
"Time's up. Head back."
"Ah, yes. Thanks as always."
"Go."
Bowed to master, touched badge, teleported to classroom. Grabbed bag, sat. Soon class returned. Inha, Hyunho too.
"Eunha's already here?"
"Yeah."
Smiled, nodded, asked routine.
"How'd it go?"
"Same. Brainstorming sub-magic~."
"Cleared that level I couldn't last time."
"Nice. Not me yet."
Hyunho settled on "Word Magic" for sub. Unlike typical command/creation, focused on versatile effects. Wants fun tricks, puppets especially. Solid—word magic covers more than puppets.
Inha? Overpowered. Blending martial arts and magic—terrifying. These kids' talents grew daily. Enviable. I wouldn't slack, though. Combat sense? Might get passed soon. But raw magic? No way. Pushed worries aside, watched them.
After school, we gathered as usual. Magic talk—no Siha invite. Fourth period today, straight home after lunch. Realized: hadn't lunched with Siha lately. More unease.
At Minhee's. Then Hansu dropped a bomb.
"I perfected my sub-magic."
Grinning cocky in front of us all. Confidence lit his face; our eyes bugged. Hyunho first.
"Whoa! Already?"
"Hyunho, know what it is?"
"Yeah. Kinda!"
Inha's question—Hyunho nodded. Close houses, childhood friends...
Minhee next, excited.
"What is it? Show!"
Hansu palmed down. Eyes serious. Mana stirred—only I felt it, subtle yet intense to me.
Light bloomed. Floor sprouted: stem, leaves, bud... full bloom. Ethereal blue glow. Movingly beautiful.
"Whoa..."
"My sub-magic: Flower Magic."
Hansu beamed shyly.
"Main tree handles attack/defense. Flowers support: aid growth, disrupt foes, add effects like your text magic, Eunha."
"Whoa, cool."
Mystical mana swirled the petals, glowing like lanterns. Inha stared, blurted.
"Doesn't suit you."
Hansu scowled usual. I blinked confused; Minhee, Hyunho stifled laughs. Inha said it deadpan, but kids felt it hard.
"Pffft! Totally! Flower-soft with your rough ass? No way!!"
"Pfft... hahaha!"
"Shut up!"
Hansu flushed, speechless. But I tilted head.
"Huh? Suits you fine?"
They cracked up, turned. Hansu's face twisted weird. Why? Praised him. Minhee wiped tears, gasped.
"Pfft... haha, why think that?"
"But Hansu's tough act is just surface."
Smiled.
"Rough talk, but kind, considerate. Hates fighting, so non-attack magic. Tree-flower combo perfect; suits him. Right?"
Minhee, Hyunho blinked, pondered.
"Huh... yeah."
"Instinct says no, but your logic... can't deny."
Inha eyed me complexly. Same vibe.
Looked at Hansu: beet-red, head down. Not mad/shy... embarrassed? Emotional vortex swirled—faded quick. My limit.
Stared. Thought flashed.
*No way... nah.*
Shook it off, scratched cheek.
Awkward air. Hansu coughed, red still.
"Ahem... anyway. Uh... embarrassed, but... talked to Eunhee unnie a lot. Her sub's similar."
Oh yeah. Eunhee unnie's "Plant Items": grows plants via spirits with powers. Eat fruit/flower/seed for effects. Mostly healing. Support like Hansu's.
"Yeah."
Minhee, wiping last tears, dropped another.
"Oh, me too—I evolved my magic!"
Jaw-drop again. Turned to her. Minhee smug.
"Loved shooting, made shooting magic. But needed more. Bullet effects/tracking as sub. This? Evolution."
Eyes deepened.
"Gonna make Weapon Manifestation Magic."
Mood sobered with her face.
"I like all weapons, not just guns. Start mimicking existing firearms. Gotta study structure, traits, handle lots. Stick to shooting-tracking meantime. Oppa uses Shadow Manifest for weapons too—house full of 'em. Love guns especially. Manifest magic gear too, craft originals later. Swords, spears... everything weapons can do."
Grinned.
"I'm grinding hardest? Manifesting specifics is brutal. Not just looks—power too, exact structure. But my memory's ace. Can do it."
Nodded. True. Minhee's memory eidetic. One look, internalize structure. X-ray helps. Then imagination—precise recall beats my illusions.
Impressed. Perfect fit. Memory + physique = OP weapon magic.
Hansu too. Non-attack mages like us—unlike attack Inha, Minhee, Hyunho. He neutral, me defense.
Flower Magic ideal. Their genius shines: talent + luck = perfection. Luck finding perfect fit—fate, chance, karma, bonds. My friends: rare elite.
...If Siha feels inferior, can't blame her. Slipped in my mind.
Now all had mains/subs: Me—illusion/text, space-time; Inha—light/lightning; Hansu—tree/flower; Minhee—weapon manifest/shooting-tracking or sense; Hyunho—water/word.
Kids evolved scary fast. Blink—they matched me. They assumed I led—wrong. Already equals.
Not too fast/slow. Right on time. My talent's good, but won't outpace friends.
I sighed, half-awed.
========== Afterword ==========
Starting a new chapter.
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