SIYUN - In her brain.
SIYUN - In her brain.
For a while, the art teacher had been teaching us to draw in only the broadest strokes.
Time passed, and it was the day before the summer break ceremony.
I pulled a single canvas out of Dad's car.
"Have a good day at school~"
"Yeah, see you later."
"Give me a kiss."
"What the hell. Gross."
Dad had been puckering his lips, and I closed the car door lightly at his shocked expression before heading into school.
Lugging a canvas as big as I was, I went toward the art room, huffing under the weight.
Once I reached the art room, I stood the canvas up in front of the still-locked door.
When I turned around, the teacher was right there.
"Ah... hello."
"Right..."
"This is a present. You don't need to give it back."
"....."
"Well, take care~"
I left the painting behind and headed to class.
Go Min-su was staring fixedly at the wrapping paper marked '183' that covered the canvas Si-yoon had brought.
He wanted to look, but couldn't bring himself to. Class began while he was still agonizing, so he put the painting in storage.
He taught the lesson, but the canvas kept surfacing in his mind.
"...Haah."
"Teacher, is something wrong?!"
"Huh? No, it's nothing~ Right here, you do it like this..."
Go Min-su finished the lesson and brought the canvas back out of the storage room.
"...Hoooh..."
He carefully unwrapped the covering but still couldn't summon the nerve to actually look at it.
But he repeated his wife's words—'Si-yoon is simply a jewel'—and checked the painting on the canvas.
"....."
The picture there was a self-portrait of Si-yoon.
At Korea Comprehensive Arts University—the country's top-ranked art school for fifteen straight years—was a research lab.
It belonged to master painter Ahn Jun-tae.
Ahn Jun-tae turned on his phone in his lab, scrolling through the paintings drawn by a little lady named Si-yoon who possessed overwhelming talent.
"As I thought... incredible..."
Then he spotted his prized pupil Go Min-su coming into the lab and greeted him gladly.
"Oh! What brings you here?"
Glad as he was to see Go Min-su, Ahn Jun-tae's gaze instinctively went first to the canvas Go Min-su was cradling against his chest as if it were precious.
Ahn Jun-tae saw the '183' marked there and his pupils dilated.
Because the last one known to the public was '137'.
Ahn Jun-tae fixed his eyes on the canvas and quickly approached Go Min-su.
"...May I see it?"
"First... could we talk for a moment?"
Professor Ahn swiftly cleared the paintings off his desk and sat Go Min-su down.
He wanted to talk, but he couldn't help his eyes being drawn again and again to the canvas marked '183'.
"Very well. What is it?"
"It is... Si-yoon's work. And... no, it'll be quicker just to look."
Go Min-su carefully unwrapped the canvas.
Ahn Jun-tae, who had been looking at the canvas with expectant eyes, fell silent the moment he saw the painting.
"....."
Until then, Si-yoon had never painted a single self-portrait in the 'SIYUN - In Her Brain' series.
And '183' did not contain the distinctive brushwork of Si-yoon's that put the viewer at ease.
The unusually bold use of paint created an almost three-dimensional effect.
The expression on Si-yoon's face looked as though she were deep in thought.
Ahn Jun-tae realized that Si-yoon had drawn herself in the act of drawing.
Si-yoon wasn't smiling in the painting, yet the background made her seem more and more as though she were.
Thickly layered paint seemed to conceal her expression.
Her facial lines were rendered with such delicacy that they seemed to have taken an enormous amount of time.
Then her lively eyes drew the viewer in, revealing that they created the illusion of a smile.
But...
The background began to stand out even more, making it seem as though she had no interest in her own face—the subject of the self-portrait.
Si-yoon's self-portrait seemed to convey what she was thinking right at that moment.
—as if to say that the subject did not matter to her and painting truly was only a hobby...
The two of them looked at '183' and recalled once again the meaning of 'SIYUN - In Her Brain'.
"Huh..."
"When I saw this painting, it felt like she was saying to leave her be so she can do what she wants. It seemed like she was telling me not to get my hopes up."
"She wanted to convey that through the painting...?"
"Yes..."
"...It seems we adults have placed far too much burden on a little child..."
"I think so too."
Professor Ahn Jun-tae recalled Farzier, the Swiss master who had purchased 'SIYUN - In Her Brain 137' for a million dollars and who in an interview had called her an arrogant, impudent, insolent little brat.
While talking with Go Min-su, Professor Ahn Jun-tae made up his mind to send this '183' to Farzier.
When summer break started, I endlessly persuaded Dad and finally got to try a different game.
-"No, fuck!!! What are you doing?! I said go to Zone B!!! If you can't hit them, at least apply some pressure!!!"
"Stop swearing, or I'll kill you."
-"Wow... 0 kills 10 deaths, I'm losing my mind... No, honestly, this is just wrong! How can you be this bad!"
"I'm done. Fuck."
-"Honestly, 0 kills and 10 deaths—you admit that's not human, right?"
"Hey, get your ass to that Hannam Bridge, the one halfway between your place and mine."
-"Bullshit, that's not even a tenth of the way to my place, how is that halfway?"
That bastard Park Ji-hoon was crossing the line because he knew he wouldn't see me during break.
I was already keeping a lid on a rage that had boiled up to the top of my head when I spoke.
"Whatever, I'm not playing."
-"Aw, why not again... You said if you suck, you practice."
"....."
-"Now why could that be~? Don't tell me, could it be that the great Si-yoon is feeling her limits?"
I felt like I'd smash the computer tower if I listened any longer, so I wordlessly turned it off.
When I came out and sat on the sofa, Dad watched me cautiously.
"Si-yoon... why are you in a bad mood?"
"Nothing."
"Is the game not fun?"
"Haah... I want to play a different game."
Dad wanted to say no, but when he saw my face, he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.
"What kind?"
"I want to find... one I'm good at..."
Sitting next to Dad, I started playing this and that game on my phone.
I'll admit it.
I sucked absolute ass at gaming.
More than anything, every time I saw Park Ji-hoon getting excited while playing, something surged inside me and I felt like I couldn't keep going.
On top of that, that bastard's control was no joke, as if he'd dumped every possible physical stat point into gaming.
And losing every single game to that prick... my pride wouldn't allow it.
After messing around with a few games, I eventually sat back down in front of the computer and launched the Maple Leaf game.
The people welcoming me the moment I logged in—I really did feel at ease in Maple Leaf.
-"Come on, you're not a kid. I went to the trouble of finding something fun."
"Shut it."
-"You sulking? You've really turned into a total girl."
I felt something in my head snap one strand after another.
BANG!!!
I performed a 'shotgun,' lifting the keyboard and slamming it down on the desk, and Dad came running in alarm.
Dad saw the wrecked keyboard and desk and gave me my first spanking in a while with the cane that had been gathering dust. Then I had to kneel facing the wall with both arms raised overhead.
And I received a one-week ban on gaming.
'I'll kill him... kill him... kill him... kill him... kill him... I'm definitely going to kill him...'
Since it was the break and I couldn't see Park Ji-hoon, I was just staring at the wall, seething.
Inside a house with an antique atmosphere, an old man was looking at a painting.
"Farzier... what is the matter?"
"Nothing..."
Farzier looked more gaunt than usual.
"At least have a meal..."
"I'm fine."
Farzier was looking at the painting marked '183' that had been sent by Ahn Jun-tae, the world-renowned master.
He thought back to a few weeks ago, to the little brat he had met while stopping by the small country of Korea.
A little brat with an appearance that seemed to push the very limits of beauty.
An impudent little brat who, despite having such looks, despite possessing that overwhelming talent anyone would kill to have, acted as though she had no need for any of it.
But it was as if that little brat was trying to persuade even him.
This painting, sent through Ahn Jun-tae... left him speechless.
A painting laden with so many emotions that half-baked experts would not even be able to read it properly.
A self-portrait that complicated the viewer's feelings, as though trying to express her own tangled emotions.
No matter how he looked at the expression of the little brat drawing in the self-portrait, he couldn't tell what expression she had meant to make.
If he looked while drinking coffee, she seemed to be drawing with a calm smile;
if he looked while hungry, she seemed to be drawing in a worried rush;
if he looked while tired, it created the illusion that she was drawing with a gloomy expression.
To understand the painting more deeply, Farzier devoted every waking moment not taken up by bodily needs to studying '183.'
The two eyes of the portrait seemed to stare back into his own with such vitality.
Astonishing...
"Haah... to have this kind of talent..."
Propping his chin on his hand as he looked at the painting, Farzier recalled the words the little brat had spoken.
"For me, it's just a hobby. Nothing more, nothing less. Farzier, look around. Where is the gentle touch you spoke of, and do you see that kind of earnestness in me...?"
An insolent little brat with such a fully formed personality that no one would believe those words had come from a child.
A little brat who'd been born into a well-off family and seemed to have never felt a sense of lack.
"I'll be frank. That passion of yours is burdensome to me."
When he'd heard those words, he'd wanted to tear the painting he'd bought in half and crush it.
But the moment he saw '137'... he couldn't bring himself to do it.
The words made him recall his own life, but he still could not understand the little brat.
But looking at the little brat's portrait... he felt like he could understand that young girl's feelings.
These paintings had been begun by a little brat who had grown up wanting for nothing, become famous for her extraordinary looks, and drawn countless gazes.
Imagining just how many eyes she must have drawn as her limitless talent blossomed, Farzier began one final flight of fancy.
'If this little brat had been born into a poor household where even a single meal was hard to come by...'
Imagining the desperation and screams that a little brat with that emotional range and expressive power might convey made Farzier shudder.
And he slowly nodded his head.
Wasn't he himself, burdened by countless eyes, currently unable to even lay a hand on a brush...
'Right... it's just a hobby.'
Time passed, and before I knew it, the tail end of summer break arrived.
If there was one thing that had changed...
It was Farzier sending his paintings to our house.
Dozens of paintings came from Farzier, who boasted a price range so high that it was said, 'His paintings start at a minimum of one million dollars.'
They were his return gift for '183' and his way of saying that his own work was only a hobby too.
"Dad, should I throw these out? There's way too many."
"...We can't do that..."
And then another delivery came.
It was a painting from Teacher Go Min-su and a painting from Professor Ahn Jun-tae.
They, too, said theirs was just a hobby.
"No... I said it's burdensome, what is all this..."
Dad started hanging the paintings one by one, but there were so many that he eventually hung a few more at the JSM headquarters.
"Should I really just quit drawing...?"
"Nah, doing what's fun is a hobby. Making songs is my hobby too, right?"
"Right?"
"Yep."
On the day of the opening ceremony for the new semester, from a distance I spotted Park Ji-hoon greeting me cheerfully, happy to see me after so long.
Thanks to my overwhelming memory, what had happened came back as clearly as if it were yesterday. I approached slowly with a smile, let Park Ji-hoon lower his guard, and planted my fist in his face.
These days he dodged my punches and counterattacked fiercely; it made me wonder if I should start working out too, but I was still more than comfortable pounding that prick's face in.
Park Ji-hoon, taking a hit from me for the first time in a long while, wiped his nosebleed and said,
"Fuck! What the hell are you doing the second you see me?!"
"I've been counting the days waiting to see your face. Let's just kill each other today."
"B-Boss?"
"You son of a bitch, so now you remember I'm your boss, huh? You're dead."
When I picked up a sharp-edged rock I spotted nearby, Ji-hoon freaked out and started running without looking back.
"Get back here, goddammit!!!"
"If I get hit by that I'll actually die, Boss!!!"
From far away, a teacher at the Seoul private elementary school thought we were playing tag,
and smiled with satisfaction, as if it made the start of the new semester feel real.
I was sitting haughtily next to Park Ji-hoon, whose face was swollen, with a book open.
Park Ji-hoon looked at me as if he had something foul in his mouth.
"....."
"What."
"Nothing."
Park Ji-hoon had gotten double-eyelid surgery, which sharpened his eyes, and it made me think a person could really change this much just from the eyes alone.
Honestly speaking, he looked several thousand times better now than before.
Except for the part where I'd hit him and made his face swell up.
While I was thinking that, Park Ji-hoon whispered softly, as if talking to himself.
"Just you wait... once I've grown a little more... You'd better absolutely... not get weaker than me."
I closed the book and stared at Ji-hoon.
"What did you say."
"Nothing!"