Chapter 8
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: The Outsider (3)
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"Hold on a second, Teacher!"
A quivering voice shattered the heavy silence. The student who stood up glared at the teacher with his head held high.
"What."
"Well, um."
He must have lost the battle of initiative. I thought he might back down, but instead, he shot back with clear dissatisfaction.
"If that's the case, I can't accept why I was placed in Class B."
"Objection?"
"Yes. I can't understand your evaluation criteria, so I'd like an explanation."
He was using polite language, but his tone was incredibly bold.
Sidelong glances from the others turned toward me.
They didn't say it outright, but they seemed to agree inwardly. Even I was stunned, so of course they were.
I shrugged as if I had no idea what was going on.
"Kim Seong-hyun."
"...Yes."
The teacher, who had glanced around and checked the roster, continued.
"Are you saying my ears are faulty?"
"That's not what I mean. I just can't accept it. How could I score lower than someone who can't even play that Chopin étude...!"
"Lower than 'someone'?"
"No, that's not it... Teacher, I'm not the only one who doesn't understand your criteria. At least explain it!"
I was caught in the middle and taking all the flak for no reason.
Kim Seong-hyun's persistent counterarguments against the teacher showed no signs of stopping.
I watched the two of them without any particular feelings.
"Then let's do this."
The teacher, who had been eyeing Kim Seong-hyun with a slouch, let out a smirk and stepped forward to the lectern.
"Those who can't accept Kwon Do-hyun's placement in Class A, raise your hands."
A heavy silence descended over the classroom. The students flinched, shoulders tense, only peeking at each other.
Then, someone in the middle of the room shot up their hand. Like a dam breaking, hands started popping up here and there.
"This is going too far..."
"It's fine, let it be."
I lightly touched Lee Seong-hyuk's worried arm to reassure him. I wasn't seeking protection anyway, and the situation was kind of amusing.
"Wow, so many. You guys serious?"
The teacher, roughly counting with his fingers, let out genuine admiration. Kim Seong-hyun looked triumphant, as if he had an army at his back.
"Alright, what I'm about to say applies to everyone placed in Class B or C."
The teacher straightened up, hands behind his back, exhaling briefly.
All eyes in the room focused on him.
"Especially those with hands up—listen well."
The only sound in the classroom was the faint whoosh of hands dropping limply.
"In the first round, second round... yeah, the upcoming second evaluation. Any student who scores higher than Kwon Do-hyun..."
There was no time to be surprised at my name being called.
The words that followed left everyone wide-eyed in shock.
"I'll move to Class A on the spot. Plus, exemption from the second-semester class placement exam."
A dubious silence hung in the air. Then, the classroom erupted into instant chaos.
"I'll even buy you a meal. If you don't like it, forget it."
With those half-joking words, the teacher left the classroom.
The start of a new semester.
Around this time, the staff room always buzzed with a taut tension mixed with anticipation for the freshmen.
Choi Je-hun, who had just stirred up a major incident today, was idly tapping the table.
"Teacher Choi Je-hun... causing trouble again, huh."
A voice with irregular rhythm interrupted his steady beat. It was Lee Bo-ram, the homeroom teacher for the 1st-year Piano Department Class B.
"What can a teacher do but stir things up? Otherwise, are you even a teacher?"
"I heard roughly what happened, but the kids feel it's really unfair. They still don't accept that student."
Lee Bo-ram brushed off Choi Je-hun's nonchalant reply with familiarity.
"What can I do if they don't accept him?"
"Teacher, you have to think about the parents too..."
Choi Je-hun shot back incredulously at Lee Bo-ram, who was rubbing her forehead.
"If I took even a dime from that kid and heard complaints, I'd have a case to feel wronged. There's no connection—none."
Choi Je-hun, waving his hand dismissively, suddenly snapped his head up.
"Besides, my students can't be like that. You need to hear him play to understand."
Lee Bo-ram stared at him blankly. Her eyes held little trust.
"That's Kwon Do-hyun, right?"
"Yes."
"You didn't participate in the interviews, so you might not know, but... he didn't stand out. Solidly mid-to-lower tier."
That unusual kid didn't stand out? Choi Je-hun's brow twitched as he listened silently.
"Wait, what was our entrance exam piece again?"
Lee Bo-ram quickly erased her "you don't even know that?" expression and replied amiably.
"Liszt... Galop 219. And Beethoven Piano Sonata No.7, movement free choice."
"Liszt Galop, Beethoven Sonata."
Choi Je-hun's calm deliberations halted abruptly.
'That doesn't make sense.'
No matter how he replayed the scenarios, it didn't add up. After all, anyone who passed playing those pieces must have practiced Chopin's études at least.
The Liszt Galop especially highlighted the issue. This dance piece demands a fast tempo and capturing its unique rhythmic feel.
Not only does it surpass Chopin's étude in difficulty, but without solid fundamentals, even attempting its techniques is tough.
'Passing Ye-rim Arts High with those, yet skill stuck at that level?'
Shaking his head, Choi Je-hun recalled Kwon Do-hyun's performance from about 20 minutes ago.
'No way.'
The biggest question: Kwon Do-hyun's eerily mature expressiveness.
No telling how much classical music he'd listened to or studied.
But crucially, his playing exuded a veteran's gravitas.
That unique aura of proficiency only comes from years immersed in music.
Hard to accept, but the evidence was undeniable.
'A clumsy technique clashing with masterful expression...'
Different.
Kwon Do-hyun differed from typical students in every way, positive or negative.
'And that unique tone.'
The mystical allure that captivated even during judging.
A crystalline sound so fragile it might shatter with a mere breath, yet dazzling to behold.
'But the foundation was a castle of sand.'
A house of cards.
Kwon Do-hyun didn't play with proper posture. Or maybe he couldn't.
Like eagle claw technique. Utterly inefficient key striking.
'That's why he lost strength unnecessarily, posture crumbled, mistakes piled up.'
No wonder Choi Je-hun had asked him to play an exercise. To gauge his skill more precisely.
'In summary... Kwon Do-hyun has never properly learned piano?'
Choi Je-hun let out an incredulous chuckle.
Then how to explain that proficiency? Nonsense, pure delusion.
Lee Bo-ram stared blankly at the inexplicably silent Choi Je-hun, then sighed softly and spoke.
"The department head picked Kwon Do-hyun."
"The head?"
Snapped from his thoughts, Choi Je-hun met her eyes.
"Among the so-so kids, why not give a chance to one who hasn't had proper piano training."
Choi Je-hun rummaged through memories. Amid the mess, a profile surfaced.
'Experience: Academy lessons, 12 months.'
Kwon Do-hyun's resume was blank otherwise.
Regulations bar listing teachers without proof. Digging into grads from non-arts middles without rumors is tricky.
But who taught him didn't matter. Even under a great professor, one year is too short to build skill.
'Personal statement.'
Stoic-faced but hurried, Choi Je-hun rifled his desk. He found the neat file of freshmen records.
Skimming names, he found Kwon Do-hyun's statement.
It brimmed with desperate pleas in thousands of dense characters.
What caught his eye: the last item's final line.
[I want to make music.]
If admitted to Ye-rim Arts High.
If accepted.
If selected.
Not clichéd exam fluff... but a raw desire to make music.
Simple words, heavy weight.
Everything about the kid puzzled Choi Je-hun.
'Kwon Do-hyun, what the hell are you?'
He sank deeper into the mystery.
The hallway during break.
Faint vocal majors' singing drifted unfamiliarly.
"That much?"
"Yeah. That teacher made this insane bet."
I still wondered about Choi Je-hun's special treatment toward me.
No surprise others saw me as an uninvited stone rolling in.
"But class transfers and placement exemptions—why make such a fuss?"
Whatever class, we'd play piano anyway, right?
Did they all have reasons to obsess over Class A like me?
"You really know nothing."
Lee Seong-hyuk shook his head at my puzzled tone.
"Ever think it's weird you know everything?"
"Simple explanation. First, you need to know Class A's perks..."
Lee Seong-hyuk, excitedly chattering, suddenly clammed up.
Wondering what happened, I tapped his shoulder.
"Why'd you stop?"
"Heh, you're pretty popular."
"Popular? What're you talking about..."
I followed his chin flick. Piano majors stood frozen mid-hallway.
And most stares aimed at me.
'...How'd it come to this.'
With mixed feelings, I retraced from the eval start.
My turn, teacher exposed my basics publicly, two performances, Class A placement...
'Then the weird bet over my score.'
Perpetrator: Choi Je-hun, naturally.
The bet itself—charitably bold, harshly reckless.
Everything about the teacher was disorienting: clothes, attitude, mismatched for this school.
"This bugs me too: what's Choi Je-hun's deal?"
"Dunno. Nothing on him. Just transferred last year."
His overrating me piled on the questions.
Maybe his confidence justified the bet.
'But why dump the responsibility on me...'
Sighing deeply, I wove through the crowd back to class. Rear door opened to hallway-level stares.
Pretending-not-to stares felt burdensome. Not pleasant.
'If it bothers you, just ask.'
I plopped next to Lee Seong-hyuk at our morning seats. He poked and whispered.
"Hey, all staring are B or C class."
"So?"
"Can't tell? Jealousy."
"Jealousy, what..."
I shoved Lee Seong-hyuk aside casually, prepping for next class.
Class would skim overviews without progress, but first day—gotta feel it.
'Gonna be tiring ahead.'
Sighing shallowly, I pressed my left cheek to the desk.