Chapter 100

100. Preparation (3)

······There is a strange memory.

It is that I saw a train. What's so strange about that?

It's not when I was Han Seoho, but when I was Brinner, seeing a train. Right there, in London!

This contradicts the tendency of modern people to think of classical musicians as people from a very long time ago, showing that they actually lived in an era not so far removed from ours.

After all, 200 years, in the grand scheme of history, is not such a long time.

Let alone a year. Or even half a year. How short can that be?

Time is so fast.

The train, which seemed like a monster transcending the achievements of civilization, moved even faster than the speed it displayed.

······Wasn't I 12 years old and so excited? Now I'm on the verge of becoming an adult.

The weather, which seemed to be getting warmer, soon became so hot that the asphalt was scorching.

It's hot. I can clearly understand why the sun stripped the traveler of his clothes.

And like the rising heat, the atmosphere at school is also heating up.

Even friends who had always built walls against studying suddenly started flipping through thick college prep books for the third or fourth time.

Dr-r-r.

“Phew...”

Lunchtime. As the child who had been called to the office returned, the children's gazes followed.

“What did they say?”

“Just that with my current grades, it's a stretch for computer science, but if I go for new materials, it could be semiconductors instead of steel...”

Having experienced the burden of joining that line before the regression, I can't feel completely relieved.

It's not like I'm watching from the other side of the river. I'm in the same boat.

Yang Hangeul, who had been tearing his hair out since yesterday, asked Lee Hoik, who had a blank expression.

“Hoik.”

“Yeah?”

“What did the teacher say during the counseling?”

“They asked what I wanted to do, and I said I was considering.”

“And then?”

“Told me to think about it carefully.”

“So you're still considering?”

Lee Hoik nodded. Yang Hangeul also nodded in agreement. Hearing his gloomy voice, I really want to spoil the future for him.

Yang Hangeul, you're living well in a decent company, just as you wanted.

Lee Hoik, you become a manager at a talent agency. And a very capable one at that.

Back then, we didn't know about such early worries.

It was a natural period of vague anxiety.

Of course, those worries aren't bad. The world isn't easy to live in optimistically.

It's just that I don't think they should be a burden.

Dr-r-r.

The door opened again, and Chae Iyeon came in with quick steps, heading straight for our side. Among those who were called, she had a rare bright expression.

“Seoho, it's your turn now.”

“Are you the last one in our class?”

“It seems so.”

She nodded calmly and stood up.

The class president, who had been staring at the competition rates for each major, looked at me enviously.

“Are you going to ask which university's banner to hang?”

#

A little later.

Han Seoho's homeroom teacher, who had been leaning his head from side to side, came out of the counseling room and entered the office next door.

I'm drained. I tried to clear the fog by counseling the students, but it feels like the fog has only thickened. They'll have a lot to worry about...

“Phew. It's tough.”

“Are you here?”

Sighing and sitting down, the teacher from Class 1 next to him asked casually.

“Is the counseling for your class over?”

“For now.”

“Frustrating, isn't it?”

“I feel this way every year. It's depressing. We have to ask what they want to do to decide their majors, but how would they know? They've been trapped in this place, so it's natural that they don't know what to do.”

That's why summer, when early admission notices start to appear for third-year homeroom teachers, is a particularly tough season.

The hurdles of college are set, and many students collapse in front of them.

Of course, not everyone.

“Then, did Seoho do it too?”

······Han Seoho, who was mentioned, and Chae Iyeon were the same.

They had clear career paths and the talent to match. Han Seoho goes without saying, and Chae Iyeon has a brilliant history as a child actor.

“Is Iyeon applying to the Korean National University of Arts?”

As if it were one of the biggest concerns in the office, the gazes followed the question from the Class 1 teacher.

“Yes, it seems so.”

“Nowadays, even successful actors don't necessarily go to college, right?”

“She started acting without taking acting lessons, so she seems to want to attend college.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Then, what about Seoho?”

This one is even more so. The gazes sparkled even more.

Not only now, but even among teachers and parents, the idea that this school might have its first overseas prestigious university banner is a natural reaction.

“I don't know...”

“Hmm? Didn't Seoho say where he's going?”

“It seems he hasn't decided yet. He said he would talk to his parents.”

“Of course, he'll go to an overseas prestigious university, right? Juilliard? Berklee? Or somewhere in Europe?”

“Various...”

“Oh, he's applying to various places?”

“No, it's not that Seoho is going...”

The homeroom teacher shook his head and recalled the recent counseling.

Clearly...

“They said to come to their schools. The ones you just mentioned.”

“Berklee?”

“Yes.”

“Juilliard?”

“Yes, from there too.”

“Any more?”

“Many. Here—”

The teacher took a piece of paper from the file he brought and looked at it.

“Oh my, how many are there?”

“In fact, I gave up after a while...”

The teachers who gathered were speechless.

While most people wouldn't recognize the schools unless they were as famous as Berklee or Juilliard, that wasn't the point.

The point was that so many, or even more, universities had sent love calls to have them come to their schools.

#

[The Conservatoire de Paris has been impressed by your musical potential and is offering admission, along with the benefits of a scholarship upon enrollment...]

While reading the letter with the school's emblem faintly visible, I fiddled with the envelope with my other hand.

I'm quite moved by the red wax seal, which I haven't seen in a while. It's definitely a European school, different from the American style, which is mostly by email.

My father, who gave me the letter, sat at the dining table and said,

“They sent it to my office because they didn't know our home address.”

“Lucky. At least they didn't publish an article saying a certain university wants me, before even contacting me directly.”

My mother also sat down, placing the wet fruit on the table.

A family meeting started after a long time.

······I silently observed and then asked quietly.

“What do you think?”

“Our opinion is that yours is the most important. You know best what will help you the most.”

“Then, I'll be honest. First, I don't want to study abroad.”

I quickly said this, fearing they might suggest it.

I observed my parents' expressions. They didn't seem shocked or surprised. Instead, they asked calmly.

“Can I ask why?”

“I don't want to be away from my family for years.”

At this, my mother turned her head. Her eyes met my father's, and they both burst into laughter.

“Why? I'm serious...”

Did it sound like a childish thought?

No, it's more like a trauma from my previous life.

While preparing to persuade them, an unexpected answer came.

“We also... We also had the same thought.”

“...?”

“I don't know. I don't know if we're strange as parents, but somehow both your mother and I feel a bit scared about being apart for years.”

“We thought if we said it first, you might feel pressured to go abroad even if you wanted to, so we decided to let you speak first. We didn't expect the same answer.”

After laughing for a while, my parents changed the question.

“Then, which school are you thinking of?”

I didn't really have to think. I had already made up my mind.

“The Korean National University of Arts.”

“But they haven't even sent an admission offer yet?”

“Then, I'll have to apply through early admission. Actually, I'm a bit curious.”

Before the regression, I did apply for early admission (though it wasn't a good memory, even after doing it twice), but back then, I had nothing to do with classical music, let alone music in general.

To be precise, I want to experience practical skills.

“Sure. Do as you wish.”

With my parents' permission, I feel a bit relieved.

“And one more thing.”

Since I got their permission...

“I have one more request.”

I quickly went to my room and brought a notebook.

Not the past diary written in German, but a notebook where I had planned my trip in advance.

I brought it to my parents, and they opened it in the middle, flipping through the pages.

I ate a piece of fruit and waited.

And after a while.

“So, you want to travel for about a month before entering college? Alone?”

“Yes.”

“Don't you want to go with friends?”

“It's not that I don't want to, but my goal is to go alone.”

There are many places I need to visit.

See Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower... I don't have time for the usual sightseeing.

My parents nodded again, checking the notebook.

Finally, the answer came.

“Go ahead.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You studied English and other languages because you wanted to travel to Europe.”

While flipping through the notebook in one go, they marveled.

“Besides, if you've planned this much, you should go.”

#

“...Berklee, Juilliard, Bard, even the Conservatoire de Paris, all sent love calls.”

“So what? Are you worried they'll be snatched away?”

“It's not that, but we think we should also send an offer, and there's a bit of debate about it.”

“Why? The professors are hurt because it seems like the best art university in Korea is begging for admission?”

Professor Yoon's blunt words came out.

Having been hurt by authoritative universities while trying to provide music education in Korea, such a reaction from Professor Yoon was perhaps natural.

Then, his student, sitting opposite him,

Lee Jongbeom, the youngest professor at the Korean National University of Arts, shook his head.

“The professors are not like that at all. They know better than anyone how great Han Seoho is. If anything, the prestigious overseas universities have higher standards.”

“But?”

“The problem is the admissions officers. They have a 'why bother?' attitude. It's not like they can persuade a student who will go abroad anyway, so why should they try? The school administration seems to agree with this view.”

“So, you want to keep Han Seoho?”

“I do, but my mind is complicated.”

Professor Yoon crossed his arms and listened to the young professor's dilemma.

“If Han Seoho comes to the Korean National University of Arts, I'm worried it might hold him back.”

“Hold him back...”

“While in school, all the students who were called geniuses went abroad and are now in famous orchestras. As a musician, the best environment for them is there, not in a teaching position like you.”

“So, you have mixed feelings?”

“Yes.”

Professor Yoon smiled at Professor Lee Jongbeom.

Han Seoho is going to the Korean National University of Arts.

He already knew this.

He didn't feel sorry about it.

He didn't question why he made that choice.

It's just his own criminal thinking.

‘Speaking of criminals, it feels a bit unfair.’

After all, he had turned down numerous love calls from orchestras and even the offer of a professorship at Bard University, where Professor Celine is, to come back to Korea.

The same would be true for his current student.

The youngest professor at the Korean National University of Arts.

A position that others would find impressive.

But there is a true genius.

And he wouldn't be swayed by the quality of the university.

That's why Professor Yoon can only expect, not worry.

······What kind of changes he will bring to the university.

“But, the geniuses you mentioned. Weren't they all your students?”

“Yes, haha.”

“Then, Professor, you've never seen a true genius.”

“Huh?”

To Professor Lee Jongbeom's question, he replied calmly.

“A genius has no reason to be held back. They're already flying. How can we hold them back?”