Ch.123123. If That Day Comes.

“Why is that the title?”

Hana, who had been quiet until now, frowned slightly as if somewhat dissatisfied.

“So I Played the Guitar,” really?

If they were going to write a song about guitars, shouldn’t it be Suhyeok or herself who did it?

Juyeon had been holding a guitar for less than a month.

If they had to be specific, it was like a baby who had just taken its first steps.

It was too early to discuss her passion for instruments, let alone her knowledge of guitars.

“This title…”

Juyeon swallowed hard.

To actively express an opinion meant having to persuade others.

Since the song would require everyone’s time and effort, Juyeon needed to convince the members why she wanted to create a song with such a theme.

“I wanted to try making a song that captures the emotions we feel when playing our instruments.”

“I… I don’t know much since I’ve never played an instrument before.”

“But now you’re trying it for the first time because Suhyeok is teaching you, right?”

Juyeon looked toward Suhyeok as if seeking his cooperation.

“Well… Juyeon is learning hard, that’s true.”

Suhyeok scratched his head with an awkward smile.

“So I’ve been trying it and… it’s fascinating.”

Juyeon continued her story like a girl in a dream.

“It’s like… I only sang before, so I didn’t know.”

“The feeling of discovering something you didn’t know before.”

“Being able to do things one by one that you couldn’t do before.”

“To add a spoonful of exaggeration to the story.”

Juyeon fidgeted with her fingers.

“It feels like discovering a world I never knew existed.”

Juyeon’s gaze fixed on Suhyeok.

Watching this, Seo-eun put her hand to her forehead at Juyeon’s words, which resembled a public confession.

But she thought the concept and direction of the song itself wasn’t bad.

Instruments.

Expressing the emotions felt while making music would be somewhat classic, but it would certainly have value as an original song.

“…So you’re saying you want to write lyrics about the emotions you felt while playing an instrument?”

Hana asked as if confirming her understanding.

“I think we could all write the lyrics together.”

“So we mix in what everyone felt a little bit?”

“If the direction is similar, I think that would be good.”

Choigang, who had been silent, suddenly spoke up.

“I’m against that.”

Since he usually agreed with most opinions, all the members turned their heads toward Choigang at once.

“The lyrics should be written by you, Park Juyeon.”

“Huh…? Why? Why? Don’t you want to write them?”

“I might help polish the expressions, but I don’t like it when the emotional tone isn’t unified.”

The way Choigang looked at drums couldn’t possibly be the same as how Suhyeok looked at guitars.

For some, music was just a light hobby.

For others, it was a means to gain popularity.

For someone else, it could be a life goal.

If they tried to include multiple perspectives in the song out of misguided consideration, they’d likely end up with something that was neither here nor there.

“Didn’t you want to make this song because you had something you wanted to express in the first place?”

Choigang had known Juyeon for two years.

A girl who rarely spoke up in meetings was now holding the conductor’s baton, saying she wanted to create an original song.

Unless she’d been struck by lightning, he firmly believed she must have something she wanted to say.

“Hmm. I agree too.”

Seo-eun smiled and massaged Juyeon’s shoulders.

“Juyeon.”

“Yes?”

“Try making the song you want to make.”

Seo-eun couldn’t be harsh with Juyeon.

Juyeon’s words about always holding back had stuck deeply in her mind.

While Seo-eun couldn’t directly help with romance, she could certainly give wings to something like this.

“You’ve always gone along with what we wanted to do.”

Songs with impossibly high notes.

Songs where the instrumentalists had all the fun while the vocalist barely had anything to do.

Juyeon had always said she was fine with it and went along with everyone’s requests.

The only ones left were Suhyeok and Hana.

Hana let out a deep sigh.

“Well… it’s not like we can judge just based on the title, so let’s talk more once you come back with the lyrics and feel you have in mind.”

Hana wasn’t insensitive enough to say “Don’t do it!” or “That doesn’t make sense!” when nothing had been produced yet.

If the song and concept were good, it wouldn’t be bad to go ahead with production.

“…Thank you.”

Everyone was encouraging Juyeon.

“I’d like you to make what you want too.”

Suhyeok also smiled and supported her challenge.

With that, some of the practice songs were confirmed.

The preparation of the song would be done by Juyeon by the next practice.

Since the practice only consisted of a meeting, it ended quickly, and the members poured out of the room to head home.

“Who’s eating?”

Seo-eun recruited dinner members.

“I’ll pass.”

Hana had already stopped by a bakery before coming.

“Ugh. Then everyone except Hana. The rest?”

“I’m not eating either!”

“Why not!”

“No money!”

That was a reason that left her speechless.

“Then Juyeon and Suhyeok will eat with me, right?”

At the president’s attitude that seemed to say “you two wouldn’t abandon me too, would you?”, Suhyeok and Juyeon looked at each other.

“Um… yeah. I’ll go.”

“Then me too.”

“Okay! Let’s go!”

If Suhyeok and Juyeon had said they were going to eat just the two of them, Hana would have gritted her teeth and followed, but since it was the three of them, she decided to let them be.

The fact that her stomach was too full to eat twice also played a big part.

In the end, it was the three of them who went to eat.

Seo-eun revisited the tteokbokki place they had gone to as a trio at the beginning of the first semester.

Suhyeok still thought the store name was strange.

‘Wababak Tteokbokki.’

“Wow~ It’s been a while since just the three of us hung out, huh?”

Seo-eun must have felt déjà vu too as she passed around the plates with a big smile.

“Yeah.”

“Back then, Suhyeok left the group chat, and I scolded him so much.”

Now they could laugh about it, but at the time, it had been quite overwhelming for Suhyeok.

No way! All these juniors coming up and talking to me!

For a loner, it was practically an assault.

“Suhyeok.”

“Yeah?”

Juyeon, sitting next to Suhyeok, looked up at him while chewing her food.

“I… I won’t eat all the ramen noodles by myself today.”

Another characteristic of loners:

They deeply internalize small mistakes that everyone else easily forgets.

When the three of them had come before, Juyeon had eaten almost all the ramen by herself, so they had to order more. She still vividly remembered that.

Of course, she had felt sorry at the time, but now that she liked Suhyeok, she had no intention of repeating the same mistake.

“Haah…”

Seo-eun watched the two awkward people.

From a third-person perspective, Suhyeok definitely had a lot in common with Juyeon.

But when it came to the question of “who should be by Suhyeok’s side?”, she thought Hana was the more appropriate answer.

Yin and yang.

Plus and minus.

Loner and social butterfly.

Everything works best when there’s balance, as opposites fill each other’s gaps.

Just because there are many overlapping aspects that make things comfortable doesn’t mean it’s always the best choice.

The choice was entirely Suhyeok’s.

Seo-eun was just grateful that he was maintaining this ambiguous state.

“Juyeon.”

“Yes?”

Seo-eun scooped the nearly-cooked instant tteokbokki onto a plate for her.

“Do you have any plans for next year?”

It seemed like a somewhat random question.

But this was something Suhyeok was quite interested in too.

Next year, when Suhyeok would go to the military and Spirit would graduate.

What would Juyeon be doing?

“I… um…”

Juyeon actually had no plans.

She would probably just spend the vacation and then go back to school?

There was the option of taking a break from school, but she hadn’t decided what she would do during that time.

If she had continued broadcasting, she might have focused on that, but now she didn’t have even a shred of lingering attachment to it.

“I’ll probably… continue playing guitar?”

An uncertain future.

But she held one thing with near certainty.

The very thin thread connecting her to Suhyeok—what he had taught her.

Even if he went to the military and they were separated, Juyeon wanted to continue playing.

“Ooh~ You’re surprisingly serious about this! Are you going to switch to guitar later when you’re an OB?”

“…Should I?”

“No way. Even if we have a graduate performance, you absolutely have to be the vocalist.”

Her talent was too precious to switch to another position.

“I don’t want to. I want to try guitar too.”

“Hey! Then who’s going to sing!”

“…Sister Seo-eun?”

Neither of them asked Suhyeok what he would be doing next year.

Suhyeok found that bittersweet, but he thought that if there was a graduate performance next year, he would want to see it even if he had to take leave from the military.

He was curious about the 24th batch becoming seniors.

He was also curious about Jaejun, who would have graduated and become a working adult.

He was planning to enlist in January or February, so there was less than half a year left.

“Suhyeok.”

“Yeah?”

“If I ever stand on stage playing guitar in the future.”

“Yeah.”

“Will you come see me?”

I hope we won’t be strangers by then.