episode_0024

“Your sound is too loud.”

“Uh…”

“You need to play more forcefully there. It’s your solo part.”

“Uh…”

“Wait! Don’t rush ahead by yourself! The violin should stand out; don’t change the flow as you please!”

“Ugh…”

If you want to score zero on the test, there’s something you must do beforehand.

That is an overwhelming amount of studying.

Prepare diligently for weeks, enter the exam room with the determination to score a perfect 100 first.

Sit down, calmly select all the answers, and then choose one number next to it to mark at the end.

Simple, right?

“This isn’t helping at all.”

“Sorry, I… I’ll try again.”

“No, it’s fine. No need to apologize like that. Let’s start over.”

Indeed, Yoon Jiyoo leaves a remarkably good first impression.

Contrary to her intimidating appearance, her understanding demeanor confuses people, making them fall for her.

They get taken advantage of and then discarded.

“Watch closely.”

Approaching me, Yoon Jiyoo flips through the music sheets page by page, pointing out each mistake I intentionally made.

“Here, you played too aggressively. Here, too softly. Wait a bit here before starting. Listen to my sound and wait. Here, you need to put in more effort. If you slack off, the duet loses its meaning.”

Truly a skilled violinist.

She could easily secure the second position at the international violin competition named after Niccolò Paganini, known as the devil’s violinist who sold his soul.

“Yes. I’ll try my best.”

“Hmm. But, how can I put this…”

Yoon Jiyoo lightly touched my hand and asked, “Are you very nervous? Your fundamentals seem solid, but it feels like you’re making many mistakes.”

Startled, I grasped her hand.

“N-no, it’s just… this is my usual skill level.”

“Hmm…”

Quick on the uptake, huh?

Did I make my mistakes too obvious?

I deliberately played some beats straight instead of adding the required twists. Maybe that was the issue.

“It’s quite evident that you’ve played the piano for a while.”

Is it that obvious?

Well, the professor has mentioned it a few times, but how would Yoon Jiyoo, a violinist, know that?

“Well, maybe it’s just my imagination. Anyway, let’s try it once more. Reflecting what I requested.”

“S-so… here, softly. Here, forcefully. Wait briefly here. Listen to the sound here while waiting. Put more strength here.”

Her instructions are too fast, darn it.

How can a non-pianist follow such directions instantly?

Or did she realize I’m not an ordinary person and speed up the feedback to test me further?

“If I correct everything, it will be too obvious….”

Just a bit.

Pay attention so subtly that it’s almost imperceptible.

For a layman, it should be challenging to adjust according to the initial requests. Just reflect the last part, where more power is needed.

“I’m ready….”

“Let’s begin.”

The prelude starts with my subtle touch.

Yoon Jiyoo, who had laid down her bow, waits for a few beats before swiftly drawing the bow across the strings.

The melancholic yet stirring melody resonates within the small hall, carrying with it fragile emotions.

“Indeed, perhaps accompanying is my calling after all….”

In Italian, the accompanist is called “Accompagnatore,” derived from a verb meaning companion. It signifies an essential partner who doesn’t merely support but collaborates in creating the stage with the protagonist.

During a joint performance, when the musician and accompanist harmonize well, the resulting sound is rich and cohesive.

Whether the accompanist perfectly matches the musician or maintains their individual style while blending effectively, various methods exist for collaboration.

However, the thicker the trust between the musician and the accompanist, the more overwhelmingly the completeness of the piece improves.

With a talent for mimicry, I could incorporate the characteristics of musicians into my accompaniments without forming a close bond with them.

Perhaps that’s why, with just the accompaniment, I could convey to the musicians how their previous and current performances differed.

Accompaniments always remained true to the musician’s style, while performances varied each time. It was something I couldn’t help but notice, even if I didn’t want to.

Even when the musician wavered and faltered in various ways.

Supporting them, I steadied them so they could return at any time.

When it became known through some means, people started coming to me for accompaniments not only from Hanyang University but also from other universities.

At that time, recovering from a rib injury and trying to catch up with classmates left me no choice but to reject them all.

If Yoon Jiyu hadn’t held Chaewon hostage, I would never have chosen her.

“Now!”

The climax of the piece begins.

The recurring motifs of Rondo and Capriccio continue, but this time, it is the piano, not the violin, that heralds the start.

“That’s it… Perfect!”

A vigorous strike.

The violin has been playing a continuous arpeggio since earlier.

The sound softened, the pace quickened.

As delicate as it was demanding, Yoon Jiyu mastered it all perfectly.

After the contrasting piano part ends, the piano and violin merge, striking vigorously together.

Then the violin takes the lead again.

A performance consisting solely of downbows that leaves viewers in awe follows.

Now, the climax.

The violinist’s bow flies over the four strings, gripping the audience’s hearts tightly to prevent the tension from breaking.

Powerful, yet not overpowering the violin.

Finally, reaching the same volume.

“Hmm.”

As the intense performance concludes, whether violinist or pianist, they both seem to release tension from their bows and keys as if fulfilling a promise.

However, Yoon Jiyu calmly lowers her bow, looks at me with a sharp gaze, and raises her hand to the keys, seemingly shrinking.

“Why, why…? What did I do wrong again?”

Her exposed ear, tilted askew, catches the light on her earring like a gem.

“You, your name.”

“Why…”

“Your name.”

“Ugh.”

The crazy girl who boldly brings her face close to mine.

Too close.

Even if you lie, wandering around school, sooner or later you’ll find out.

Might as well use your real name; it won’t make much difference once Chaewon’s name is known.

“It’s Chaewon.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“What? I thought we were the same age.”

What is this old hag saying?

You and Chaewon are two years apart.

Even by appearance, Chaewon looks much younger, right?

You cover yourself up with makeup, that’s why. Even with light makeup, Chaewon looks fresh and cute, don’t you see that?

“Anyway, she’s like a younger sister. Nice to meet you, Chaewon. I’m Jiyu. Yoon Jiyu.”

Yoon Jiyu smiles broadly, while behind her, a witch-like figure with an ashen complexion chuckles like she’s straight out of a fantasy.

The witch has found her prey. No doubt about it.

“She took the bait.”

I had only planned to show a moderate level of interest.

But it seems the plan worked like a charm.

Even if Yoon Jichang talks nonsense, he surprisingly knows how to write a scenario.

If he had switched careers to become a writer instead of pursuing classical music, he would have already achieved great success.

“So, do you come here often?”

“No…”

“First time? How did you know?”

“Oh. Um… An acquaintance told me.”

Chaewon’s awkward demeanor, despite being used to attention, was evident in her hesitant words.

Nevertheless, for the sake of revenge, I could endure this much.

It’s time to lay the groundwork now.

You will never know that I am acquainted with Song Seonghyuk.

“Who was it?”

“I-I was told not to say…”

“Oh, come on. Let’s keep it between us girls.”

She’s really something when it comes to manipulating people.

If she had been a truly immature and delicate girl, she might have fallen for the candy-coated act just now.

“No.”

I can’t say this either.

It’s like kimchi that tastes better when left to ferment until October.

“Pretending to be obedient, but you’re secretly quite stubborn, huh?”

“….”

“Why, do you like that guy?”

“No, it’s not like that…”

Yoon Ji-yoo looks at me with suspicious eyes.

But what shows on my face isn’t a hint of affection but rather a touch of disgust towards Song Seong-hyuk.

Go ahead and doubt all you want. You’ll just be wasting your time.

“Anyway, thanks for helping with practice. Until when do you want to play?”

“Uh… for a long time?”

“Alright, then I’ll make sure no one interrupts us until 3 o’clock.”

“You… don’t need to come for practice?”

“Don’t worry about it~ I’ll take care of it myself. I’m off.”

Yoon Ji-yoo chuckles as she leaves her seat.

It sounds like she’s declaring that she’ll block everyone from entering as if she’s barricading the door, but no way.

She’ll probably stick a printout saying ‘Cleaning in Progress’ on the door, attend to her own business, and return four hours later.

Been through this a couple of times before.

‘With that there, no one should come in…’

But finally, I’m alone.

I can finally monopolize this piano.

“Well then….”

One, two, three, four.

However, even as I place my hands on the keys, the enthusiasm doesn’t surge.

The secondary storm of anger that needed release has disappeared just now due to the introductory notes.

Pretending to be incompetent wasn’t easy.

No, rather than that, I found myself consuming more mental energy focusing on hitting the right notes than I usually would during practice.

‘Indeed, my hands are small.’

Although there was never any difficulty in finger dexterity or joint movements from playing the piano since childhood.

Even Jun Si-woo, who always felt inferior to Song Seong-hyuk, realized that his hands weren’t that small only after becoming Chaewon.

His hands could reach from G to F in the octave range at Gaon Do.

Now, his hands barely reach from G to D in the octave range.

Is it impossible to play Mazepa with these hands?

Like Liszt or Rachmaninoff.

Are flashy octaves and jump-filled pieces a luxury?

‘… Let’s test it out.’

I should check when the opportunity arises.

I am six years old.

As I sat on the piano bench for the first time, I recalled the piece I pushed towards Professor Baek Joong-eon, which I could now play without sheet music. The title of this piece is “La Campanella.”

The celestial sound of bells that resonated in my head since I was a baby.