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## Chapter 4 — The Mozart of the Curry Shop
The moment the owner gave me permission to play the piano, I immediately began inspecting it first.
Even if it looked fine on the outside, a piano left outdoors for a long time usually had problems hidden somewhere.
Creak.
First, I opened the keyboard cover and pressed each key one by one to check its condition.
A fair amount of dust had gathered, but there were no tangled strings or worn-out keys.
“…Alright, next are the pedals.”
If the pedals were broken, even the greatest pianist wouldn’t be able to control dynamics properly and achieve a perfect
performance.
And the pedals I was most worried about…
“Oh.”
Surprisingly, all of them worked perfectly.
I had thought I’d be lucky if even the damper pedal still functioned, but the soft pedal and sostenuto pedal were fine
as well.
‘For something that’s been sitting outside, the condition is way too good. I could play this immediately without any
issues.’
After wiping away the visible dust, I sat down in front of the piano.
But—
Lurch.
“……Ugh.”
Just the thought of playing the piano again made my vision spin like I was motion sick, and bitterness rose in my
throat.
‘Again.’
At the same time, the trauma of the past resurfaced.
As a child, I had talent in both painting and piano.
People called me a genius, and young me believed it too.
After sweeping junior competitions and becoming full of pride, I wanted to become the best not only in art, but in piano
as well.
So despite my parents’ concerns, I studied under a pianist who was called a genius at the time.
‘Oh my, so you’re Hangyeol. I’ll be in your care.’
‘Yes, teacher!’
That was the beginning of a new nightmare.
The teacher, who looked gentle and kind on the outside, became a completely different person in front of the piano.
‘That timing was wrong just now. Again!’
‘Again! Your rhythm was off! Come in on one, two, three! Again!’
The teacher, who had never won a junior competition herself, believed I could fulfill her ambition and inferiority
complex for her.
And what was needed to win competitions—
was perfection.
To create a flawless performance, she pushed me again and again.
And within that obsessive hell…
‘Again, again, again!’
Just like with painting—
I completely collapsed.
I became unable to breathe while playing the piano.
Just like now.
“……Khk.”
I hadn’t even touched the keys yet, but my breathing was already becoming ragged.
My hands trembled from overwhelming anxiety, and it felt as if I could hear my teacher’s voice pressuring me from
behind.
Part of me wanted to run away from this seat and hide in a world where pianos didn’t exist.
But…
‘…Overcome it.’
I didn’t want to run anymore.
I had already spent the past fifteen years hiding inside my tiny room.
I wanted to overcome this trauma and reclaim the things I once loved.
Just like how I started painting again in that small village…
this time, I wanted to play the piano again—the instrument I had loved just as much.
“Hoo… hoo…”
Suppressing my anxiety with deep breaths, I remembered the advice my psychiatrist once gave me.
‘If your trauma becomes overwhelming, try recalling a happy memory strong enough to overcome it.’
A happy memory.
Why had I started playing piano in the first place?
Why did I come to love it?
It was because of the piano performances my mother used to play for me when I was little.
My mother wasn’t a professional pianist.
Her playing had honestly been clumsy.
But…
♩♩♩♩♬♬
The warm smile she gave me back then.
The gentle movement of her fingers across the keys.
Those memories remained engraved beautifully in my mind.
“…Ah.”
As I recalled those happy memories, the trauma slowly faded away.
And suddenly—
I wanted to play that song again.
Slowly, I removed the uncomfortable furry gloves and placed my hands on the keys.
The piece my mother used to play wasn’t difficult, so I could play it even now.
There was no sheet music in front of me, but I could almost see the notes floating before my eyes as I…
♬♩♩♬
began to play.
Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 11, Third Movement.
*Rondo alla Turca.*
‘Again! Again! Aga—!’
Flash.
The lively and rhythmic melody began, instantly wiping away the trauma filling my mind.
And then—
‘Mom, I want to play piano too!’
‘Our Hangyeol wants to play too? Shall we play together?’
Happy memories took its place.
Grin.
Before I knew it, I was smiling while playing.
At the same time, the fingers that had started off awkwardly and hesitantly began moving faster and faster.
And as my fingers sped up—
Murmur murmur.
“Whoa, what’s that?”
“It’s piano music. Let’s go listen.”
The alleyway where the curry shop stood gradually began filling with people.
Immersed in my happy memories while wearing the rabbit mascot costume, I remained completely focused on the performance,
unaware of any of it.
---
♩♩♩♩♬♬
“Hm?”
An accounting employee from a small company, who had come out alone for lunch, stopped in her tracks when she heard the
piano.
“What song was this again… ah!”
Having attended piano academy seriously in the past, she quickly recognized the melody echoing through the alley.
“Mozart’s Turkish March!”
People often became intimidated when hearing Mozart’s name, but *Turkish March* wasn’t actually considered that
difficult.
Anyone who had mastered Czerny 30 could play it from start to finish.
But the difficulty of a song didn’t determine its beauty.
The Turkish March echoing through the alley sounded romantic enough to stir emotions.
“Wow… this really brings back memories. I used to play this too.”
Entranced by the beautiful melody and her own memories, she followed the piano sound deeper into the alley—
only to find a rabbit mascot playing *Turkish March* in front of a curry shop.
Flap.
“What the heck, a bunny? Cute!”
Chuckling at the bizarre sight, she soon joined everyone else in quietly enjoying the performance.
‘This sounds so good.’
Honestly, when she used to play Turkish March as a child, her performance had been terribly clumsy.
But the rabbit before her was playing fluently and beautifully without even looking at sheet music.
♩♩♬♬♩♩♬
The bouncy rhythm of Turkish March naturally awakened a sense of childlike wonder, making listeners feel cheerful.
Before she realized it, she too was swaying her shoulders along with the rhythm like everyone else.
And then, as if wanting to entertain the audience even more—
♬♬♬♩♬♬♩—!
“……Oh?!”
The rabbit’s fingers suddenly accelerated.
‘Fast playing…?’
The performance became so fast it felt as though someone had doubled the playback speed, causing the eyes of the
delighted audience to widen.
“Wooooah!”
“That’s insane!”
The speed had increased to an entirely different level, yet not a single beat was missed, and every passage was
flawless.
As the originally lively Turkish March became even faster, the audience eventually began clapping along with the rhythm.
And then—
♩♩♩♬♩♩♬~
“Huh? It slowed down this time!”
“Hahahaha!”
As though teasing the audience’s emotions, the rabbit suddenly slowed the tempo down.
People burst into laughter at the playful performance.
These were busy modern people who normally considered every second of their lunch break precious—
yet right now, their faces were filled with relaxation and joy.
The true charm of classical music lay in the inheritance of memory.
The people living in this era could never meet Mozart, who died in 1791.
But at this very moment, as Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 11, Third Movement was being played and enjoyed together—
they *were* meeting Mozart.
The rabbit playing piano before them was Mozart himself.
And this alleyway where the music echoed had become a royal concert hall in Vienna.
♩♩♬♬
And so, after the rabbit finished the clever and beautiful performance—
“WOOOOOOAH!”
“Wheeeeeew!”
Clap clap clap clap clap!
The crowd burst into applause and whistles.
Their cheers completely filled the alleyway.
---
“……Huh?”
After finishing the performance and looking around, I realized the place was packed with people.
I had been so immersed in playing that I hadn’t noticed this many people gathering.
“WOOOOOOAH!”
“Encore! Encore!”
Seeing the crowd shouting for an encore made me panic.
Being surrounded by this many people…
it felt like a panic attack was about to hit me.
But then—
‘Wait… I’m wearing the mascot costume right now, aren’t I?’
The thing that saved my escaping sanity was the rabbit mascot costume covering me.
Just knowing people couldn’t see my real face gave me courage.
Thinking this was an opportunity, I quickly stood up and shouted:
“O-Our Cheerful Curry Rice restaurant is holding an event! Starting now, if you order over 20,000 won at our restaurant
and bring me the receipt along with a song request, I’ll play it for you immediately!”
“Oh? You’ll play *any* piano piece?”
“Yes…! B-But only classical music…”
At the announcement that I could play any classical piece, people cheered and rushed into the curry shop.
Soon, customers carrying receipts over 20,000 won ran over to me excitedly.
“Here’s my receipt! Brahms! Please play Brahms!”
“Me! Beethoven! Moonlight Sonata, third movement!”
“Can you play Chopin Etudes too? Black Key! Please play Chopin’s Black Key!”
Looking at the crowd filled with excitement and smiling faces, I realized something once more.
The piano wasn’t created for people to judge others.
The piano wasn’t created to win competitions.
The piano…
was created to make listeners happy.
And by making the audience happy, the performer becomes happy too.
“Yes! I can play all of them!”
Grin.
Smiling happily beneath the rabbit mascot costume, I sat back down at the piano.
“Your performance is amazing. Would it be alright if I filmed it and uploaded it to YouTube and Instagram?”
“Of course! That’s fine!”
Countless eyes were focused on me, but while hidden beneath the rabbit mascot head, I felt no fear at all.
And so, the faceless pianist began another performance to bring happiness to the crowd.
Meanwhile—
Bzzzt.
The audience captured every moment vividly on their phones.