5
5 # The Seitz Concerto
There had been sheet music in the world where Rian had lived.
It was a world that had choirs, as well as something resembling orchestras. There was no way sheet music wouldn't exist.
The problem was that compared to the "Suzuki Violin School, Book 4" handed to him by Teacher Lee Na-yeon (Joo Seo-ah had
taught him how to read the title), the sheet music was in a much more primitive form.
‘I can't understand a single thing.’
It seemed that pitch and rhythm were represented through the height of the little bean sprouts and the spaces between
them, but with nothing except incomprehensible alien writing scattered across the pages, he couldn't decipher it.
‘There’s so much to learn.’
Rian furrowed his brow and stared at the alien writing in Suzuki Book 4.
In other words, English.
Apparently, in this world, you had to learn English if you wanted to pursue music.
Could that be why Mom had stuck alphabet worksheets to the refrigerator?
‘Is America the empire of this world?’
Just how powerful was that country that it could force its language upon even the world of music?
As Rian frowned at the word "tutti" written on the sheet music, Joo Seo-ah approached him slowly, her lips sticking out
in a pout.
“...That's Italian.”
“Italian?”
“It means ‘together.’ Everyone has to play together during that part.”
“But it's written in the alphabet.”
At Rian's question, Joo Seo-ah tilted her head as though he had asked the most obvious question in the world.
“Foreign countries all use the alphabet. Japan and China use Chinese characters. And Suzuki, who made this book, is
probably Japanese.”
“...?”
“Do you not know how to read sheet music?”
When Rian didn't answer, Joo Seo-ah's lips twitched again.
“If you don't know how to read it, I can teach you.”
For an instant, Rian had an illusion of the five-year-old girl before him overlapping with a young lady from a ducal
family whom he'd encountered in his previous life.
A young lady who would cover her mouth with an elegant fan made from griffin feathers while looking down at others with
disdainful eyes.
Of course, even that ducal young lady had eventually been defeated by Rian's "elven forehead-to-forehead discipline"
technique.
Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that Joo Seo-ah resembled her, what with those strangely prideful eyes and that
distinctive twitching mouth that seemed to enjoy putting others beneath her.
Unfortunately, Joo Seo-ah never actually got around to teaching Rian how to read sheet music.
Though this was supposed to be a gathering of elite children aiming to win prizes at domestic and international
competitions, in reality, they were still five-year-old children.
Children who could barely speak Korean properly had no chance of being fluent in foreign languages.
“Sk, sker...chando?”
Even Joo Eojin, Joo Seo-ah's twin older brother, couldn't pronounce Scherzando, meaning "playfully," and was merely
moving his lips in confusion.
Of course, that had nothing to do with his playing ability.
He was actually quite good.
He had clearly spent all the time he could have used learning foreign languages practicing his instrument instead.
“Applause!”
While the children took turns taking out their violins and playing along with the accompaniment, Rian was learning how
to read sheet music from Teacher Lee Na-yeon.
“Look, this note has two tails, right? So what did we call it again?”
“A sixteenth note.”
“And this one?”
“Mi, mi, re, C-sharp.”
“You got them all right! Wow! Rian is really smart!”
After going through several rounds of the stereotypical clapping-and-praising session, Rian finally managed to grasp the
basic structure of sheet music in this world.
‘It’s really easy to understand.’
The system had been designed so that even young children could understand it.
Rian didn't know who had originally devised the format, but whoever it was had undoubtedly been a genius.
Once he could read sheet music, he could also roughly see how the pieces contained in the book were structured.
‘I don't know why they skipped Books 1 through 3 and started with Book 4, though.’
Rian turned the page and examined the first movement of Seitz Concerto No. 5, the piece they would be playing that day.
‘It’s good.’
For one thing, he liked how energetic and bouncy the piece was.
It had exactly the sort of feeling that seemed perfect for young children to play.
That didn't mean it was an easy piece, though.
It was fairly fast for children to play, and despite its short length, it required quite a few techniques.
Slurs, smoothly connecting several notes with a single bow.
Broken chords, requiring the fingers to stretch widely while moving across the strings.
And triplets, which demanded a strong sense of rhythm.
Of course, Rian hadn't figured all of that out himself immediately after learning to read sheet music.
Teacher Lee Na-yeon, the teacher in charge of the Study Abroad Class, had explained it to him.
She was currently playing the piano at the front of the classroom.
Just like in a genuine concerto, she was providing a soft accompaniment so that the violin would stand out.
Beside her, Joo Seo-ah was playing the violin.
Zwaang—
Her pitch was definitely more accurate than that of the other children.
There was strength behind the movement of her bow.
In other words, she had talent.
And Joo Seo-ah's performance was being translated inside Rian's head into this:
Re-la, fa-sharp, mi, re. La, re-mi-fa-sharp-la, sol-fa-sharp-mi. Mi, si, sol-fa-sharp-mi, mi-la-do-sharp.
Here, "fa" meant F-sharp, while "di" meant C-sharp.
In other words, Rian had been born with one of the talents that Korean parents went crazy over:
Perfect pitch.
Of course, Rian didn't even know that this ability was called perfect pitch.
He'd had it since his previous life, so he'd simply taken it for granted.
As far as he was concerned, its only advantages were that he could tune an instrument without a tuner and play a piece
without sheet music.
He'd never considered that particularly special.
‘She hasn't made a single mistake.’
Being able to immediately recognize another person's mistakes was another advantage, but anyway.
Rian focused on Joo Seo-ah's performance.
‘She must have practiced quite a lot.’
Unlike the other children, she seemed quite accustomed to playing with accompaniment.
The Seitz Concerto she was playing now also appeared to be something she'd practiced many times.
‘The twins are the best out of the ten.’
Joo Eojin was also remarkably skilled at the cello for a five-year-old.
He made a few mistakes, but considering he was handling an instrument nearly as large as his own body, it was within an
acceptable range.
‘But where did that person from last time go?’
He meant Lee Yong-hak.
It was almost lunchtime, but he hadn't shown even the tip of his nose.
Maybe he was a teacher who only taught professionally in the afternoon.
That was possible.
After all, this kindergarten taught children until six in the evening.
“Aren't you going to play?”
Joo Seo-ah had come down from the performance stand before Rian realized it.
She still wore her characteristic smug expression, apparently quite pleased with her own performance.
“It's a piece I've never seen before.”
“Never?”
Joo Seo-ah looked at Rian as though she couldn't understand how someone who claimed to play violin could possibly not
know the Seitz Concerto.
Children outside, who were supposed to be spending their time playing house, might have considered Joo Seo-ah strange.
But this was one of the few proper music kindergartens in the Republic of Korea.
It was the pinnacle of Korean private education.
For a five-year-old child in such a kindergarten, especially one in the Study Abroad Class, knowing the Seitz Concerto
was simply common sense.
The fact that every other child in the class except Rian knew how to play it was proof enough.
Ordinary people with no interest in classical music might not know it, but the Seitz Concerto was particularly famous in
Korea.
It was a convenient piece for children under eight to brag about when they did well in competitions.
Overseas-trained musicians like Lee Yong-hak might have a fit hearing that, but it couldn't be helped.
The judges also preferred pieces that were easy to evaluate.
In other words, pieces with an established and "appropriate" standard.
The Seitz Concerto was one of them.
Parents enthusiastic enough to spend a fortune sending their five-year-olds to private kindergartens naturally aimed to
send them to Yehwa Arts Middle School and Yehwa Arts High School, considered among the best in Korea.
And to do that, they had concluded that children needed to finish around Suzuki Book 4 by the age of five.
Naturally, Joo Seo-ah was no exception.
—Starting today, let's work on Kayser and Hrimaly too. You can do it, right?
If anything, she had learned more than the others.
Kayser and Hrimaly.
Both were instructional materials used to practice technique and intonation respectively.
Compared to the piano world, they were roughly the equivalent of Hanon and Czerny.
Naturally, Joo Seo-ah had finished both a long time ago.
‘She doesn't know either of them.’
Joo Seo-ah stared at Rian with a strange look.
A kid who claimed to play violin couldn't read sheet music and didn't even know Suzuki.
Of course, he wouldn't know what Kayser and Hrimaly were either.
‘Dad told me not to hang out with kids who can't play.’
But at the same time, something her mother had said flashed through her mind.
—You have to take care of handsome idiots. Just look at your father. He's an idiot, right?
Joo Seo-ah briefly wondered which parent's words she should listen to.
Then, like any other child, she calculated the hierarchy between her parents in her head.
An image of her father coming home late after drinking with his friends and getting smacked on the back by her mother
naturally played in her mind.
So Joo Seo-ah decided to listen to her mother.
Rian was much more handsome than her idiot brother, who had been born a mere five minutes before her.
Of course, what could a five-year-old possibly know about appearances?
But in reality, there was no age when people judged appearances more instinctively than this one.
Even newborn babies were like that.
If the uncle they saw for the first time was ugly, they'd cry.
If he was handsome, they'd break into a huge smile, stretch out both arms, and happily let themselves be held.
That tendency continued until around the age of eight.
By then, hanging around with the opposite sex became something people got teased about.
It was a pathetic culture created by insecure boys who secretly wanted to hang out with girls but were too embarrassed
to let their friends see them doing it...
Anyway, five-year-olds were at an age where they said they liked something if they liked it and disliked something if
they disliked it, regardless of what other people said.
But Joo Seo-ah considered herself a kindergarten student with the mental age of an elementary schooler, so she didn't
say her feelings about Rian out loud.
Instead, she remembered the physical contact from before.
They had pressed their foreheads together?
She was still five, so she was technically free from the whole "men and women shouldn't be together after the age of
seven" thing her grandfather had mentioned.
But that was that, and this was this.
She clearly hadn't been taught by Mom and Dad that if you kissed someone, you had to marry them.
Therefore, he was an idiot.
And Mom had said that handsome idiots needed to be taken care of.
“Want me to help?”
“I'm fine.”
“If you can't play, Teacher might scold you.”
“I'll do well.”
He really was an idiot.
He didn't even know that playing well required an enormous amount of practice.
Joo Seo-ah watched Rian step forward with the violin and thought that if he ruined his performance and came back crying,
she should at least go comfort him.
“Teacher, I'm ready.”
And so Rian's performance began.
But there were two things Joo Seo-ah didn't know.
“Where's the sheet music?”
“I don't need it.”
First, Rian had completely memorized the Seitz Concerto from listening to his friends perform it earlier.
Second, Rian had originally been a bard who performed without sheet music in front of thousands of people.
Bam-bam-bam-bam!
A twenty-second piano interlude played.
During that brief moment before the violin entered, Rian slowly raised his bow.
Zwaang—
The first note.
Re.
The second note.
La.
“...?”
As the performance continued, Joo Seo-ah's eyes slowly widened.
“...!”
For a moment, Joo Seo-ah had the strange illusion that the five-year-old boy standing before her had suddenly become an
adult.
The sound coming from him was the kind of sound she'd only ever heard when her mother—or rather, adults—played.
There was no sense that he was chasing after the notes.
The connection between each note was incredibly smooth.
That was something any professional performer was naturally expected to possess.
But the boy standing before her was only five years old.
And not just any five-year-old.
Until moments ago, he hadn't even known how to properly read sheet music.
Exactly three minutes and ten seconds.
That was how long it took from the moment Rian raised his bow until he returned to his original position.
“...”
Only then did Joo Seo-ah's world return to normal.
Teacher Lee Na-yeon was still standing there with her mouth hanging open in stunned silence.
Meanwhile, Rian was the only one whose expression remained almost exactly as it had been at the beginning.
He walked over to Joo Seo-ah.
With his trademark bright, refreshing smile.
“I told you I'd do well, didn't I?”
“...”
Joo Seo-ah turned her gaze away.
For some reason, she found it difficult to look directly at that idiot.