Chapter 107: Interview (2)

“…I think being honest with your own emotions is the most important thing.”

The moment these words flowed from So-yul’s lips, I felt as if the air around us had changed.

My eyes flew wide open, and I unconsciously mumbled, “What…” under my breath.

I even replayed So-yul’s words in my head several times, wondering if I’d understood correctly.

Of course, this was completely understandable.

The answer So-yul had arrived at after such deliberation contained content that might make someone jump up in objection.

“Being honest with your emotions. Could you perhaps explain what you mean by that?”

Perhaps due to the abstract nature of the response, the reporter tilted her head slightly.

In contrast, So-yul nodded vigorously, as if reflecting her unwavering determination, and explained.

“I believe emotions must be conveyed in a performance. If it’s just pressing designated keys at a set tempo, then a pianist’s value essentially disappears.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. A performance without emotion could just as well be left to a computer. It wouldn’t make mistakes, and it wouldn’t tire even after playing for days.”

So-yul laid out her perspective in a soft tone, yet one filled with passion.

As if she took pride in her own performances. As if this was a point she could never concede as a pianist.

As if… she was refuting someone who had been making unreasonable demands.

Faced with this completely unexpected answer, I could only gape in silence.

We had failed to change her mother’s heart at the charity concert, our supposed final counterattack.

Not only that, but we’d been caught in our secret relationship, giving her mother leverage over us.

I thought we both had no future left.

I’d worried that from now on, So-yul would be irrevocably bound to her mother. That she would return to suffering in silence, just as she had before our fake relationship began.

But it seemed my thoughts had been completely off the mark.

All along, So-yul had endured countless ups and downs with that small body of hers.

Even while suffering under her mother’s mistreatment, she had never lost hope, believing she would eventually earn recognition.

There was no reason for that mindset to have changed now.

Even in the most difficult situations, So-yul was someone who could somehow rise up again.

Looking back, hadn’t I realized this before? That So-yul was a far stronger girlfriend than someone like me.

The reporter, wearing an extremely pleased expression, asked So-yul:

“You seem to become a completely different person when talking about piano, don’t you?”

“Uh… do I?”

So-yul laughed awkwardly, “Ahaha,” at the teasing remark.

Yet she made no attempt to deny the reporter’s words.

Indeed, compared to her blushing at compliments and startling at jokes, she had transformed into someone else entirely.

Perhaps energized by her interviewee’s lively responses, the reporter asked an additional question in a rather cheerful tone.

“Then I’d like to ask one more thing. Do you perhaps have any secret to expressing emotions so wonderfully during a performance?”

“Hmm, a secret to expressing emotions…”

Once again, So-yul repeated the reporter’s question as if selecting what to answer.

What followed was something I knew well.

“Actually, I have this hobby where I try to learn from actors’ performances while watching movies. Thinking about how certain emotions should be expressed to be effective.”

“Oh my, learning acting from movies! What an unexpectedly adorable secret!”

“Ahaha… Thank you for seeing it that way.”

So-yul expressed her gratitude with a shy smile and a slight bow.

At this, even the staff at the recording site seemed to melt, as a mixture of louder and softer laughter could be heard.

“Learning acting while enjoying movies. Though I don’t play piano, I’d like to try that too. Thank you so much for today. Now, this interview with Han So-yul…”

The reporter began her closing remarks while looking directly at the camera.

It seemed the interview—this rare chance to see So-yul again—was coming to an end.

Feeling regretful about this, I let out an involuntary sigh from deep within my chest.

But right at that moment.

“Excuse me, but would it be alright if I added one more thing?”

A voice interrupted the reporter’s closing statement.

The owner of that voice was… undoubtedly So-yul.

“So-yul, do you have something else you’d like to say?”

The reporter asked, tilting her head in confusion. Her face showed clear bewilderment.

The recording staff must have also sensed the closing atmosphere, as even the camera transition was noticeably delayed.

When the camera finally caught up with So-yul, she had placed her hands on her chest as if trying to calm her pounding heart.

Her closed eyes and repeated deep breaths revealed tremendous tension.

What on earth was she trying to say that made her so nervous?

As I watched the screen with mounting anxiety, So-yul finally parted her pretty pink lips slowly and:

“Actually, I’ve recently become better at conveying emotions in my performances.”

So-yul, who had quietly begun, gently exhaled as if to ease her tension, then:

“Personally, I feel my expressiveness has improved significantly compared to before. The positive reception of the piece I performed at this charity concert was likely due to this.”

So-yul spoke with a pure, radiant smile blooming across her face.

Her demeanor was so lovely that smiles spread to the faces of those watching.

The reporter, with eyes like someone watching a playful kitten:

“Hmm~ Listening to you talk makes me curious about what’s changed. Is there something significantly different from before?”

The reporter’s question enthusiastically responded to So-yul’s story.

Gratefully accepting the reporter’s consideration, So-yul replied without a hint of hesitation this time.

“Yes. That’s right.”

Then So-yul gazed directly at the camera and offered a fresh smile.

Her slightly reddened face bore a shy expression. The hands resting near her chest trembled faintly.

Though the lighting couldn’t have intensified, So-yul’s large eyes seemed to shine with an incredibly bright light.

At this point, I instinctively felt that something significant was about to follow.

As if reinforcing this premonition, So-yul parted her dry lips bit by bit and began.

“Actually…”

In that state, So-yul gently raised the corners of her mouth and:

“It’s because I’ve begun performing while thinking of someone precious to me.”

…

A single sentence that felt like an electric current passing through my entire body the moment I heard it.

Words that made my mind go blank and my heart seem to drop.

Once, So-yul had told me.

That she now found herself thinking of one person’s face whenever she played the piano.

That someone’s existence had thoroughly permeated her being.

And that person was clearly…

While I remained frozen in shock, So-yul’s story continued.

“I’ve found someone incredibly precious to me. Someone who taught me various forms of happiness and joy, who made countless emotions bloom…”

So-yul spoke with an affectionate gaze, as if drawing something formless.

There was no way not to know who that gaze was directed at.

“Excuse me, but a precious person…?”

The reporter reflexively questioned with a surprised look at this sudden mention.

Her sidelong glance seemed to be checking if her understanding was correct.

Toward that reporter, So-yul flushed her cheeks shyly and:

“It’s probably exactly what you’re thinking.”

Then she added in almost a whisper.

“…I’m talking about someone I like.”

The words that followed were definitive, leaving no room for other interpretations.

“Though we’ve been separated due to certain circumstances… my heart still pounds and I can’t help but smile whenever I think of that person.”

“Really?”

“Of course. That’s how much they taught me. Enough that I think of them every time I perform, no, even when I’m not performing, I think of them constantly.”

So-yul exhaled a breath laden with trembling and:

“The memories of our time together keep coming back to me, and the emotions I felt then repeat over and over, so even while playing the piano, I revive those feelings in my performance, and so…”

Then, with a face filled with determination, as if she would protect this feeling no matter what anyone said:

“Since that person has made me like this, I need to tell them to take responsibility.”

So-yul finally let out her confession, summoning the courage remaining in her heart.

In her usual mischievous, playful tone.

With eyes that seemed to gaze intently at the ‘precious person’ watching from beyond the screen.

“…So-yul.”

As if responding to this, I too found myself uttering the name of this ‘precious person.’

But simultaneously, I shook my head vigorously, trying to deny my current feelings.

I truly thought she had done something unbelievable.

I almost wanted to demand why she had done such a thing.

A confession so lovely it sent a warm sensation spreading from my chest throughout my body.

Despite receiving such a heartrending confession, I couldn’t affirm So-yul’s feelings.

Because we were in a relationship forcibly prevented from even contacting each other, let alone meeting.

Because it was a love that would clearly only leave wounds if we continued to harbor it.

So-yul must have known this too. No, as the person directly involved, she would have understood it more painfully than anyone.

She would have fully realized that doing this in front of countless people across the country would earn her beatings from her mother and the school.

Even so, So-yul had disregarded all that and offered me her sincere heart.

She had summoned her final courage and resolved to fight against this terrible reality.

She had reached out to me, refusing to give up on someone who had decided to embrace one last wound and leave.

So… what exactly was I supposed to do?

“I don’t know what’s happening, but I hope things work out well. No, they will work out. Definitely.”

The reporter, who had no way of knowing our situation, clenched both fists to encourage So-yul.

So-yul simply nodded silently with a smile, offering no verbal response.

“With that, we’ll conclude today’s interview with Han So-yul…”

Soon, the reporter’s closing remarks flowed from the speakers. The screen then switched to various panelists who began chattering about So-yul.

Saying how charming she looked in love, wishing her well with the person she liked, each casually offering their own comments.

After watching this scene vacantly, I rose from my seat.

When I regained my senses, my heart was pounding wildly.

It wasn’t just from being startled by So-yul’s bombshell statement.

Nor was it solely because my mind was on fire from her incredibly lovely confession.

This racing heart was undoubtedly the courage that So-yul had breathed into me.

I wanted to see her today, right now. I wanted to reach So-yul by any means possible.

I wanted to rush to wherever she was immediately, pull that fragile body into a tight embrace.

Tell her that I would never forget either, that I would cherish her for life.

There was no way forward. I had no pointed solution, no certain method.

Yet somehow, my body was already moving where my heart directed.

I put on the clothes I had carelessly tossed aside. With only my wallet and phone, I intended to head outside like this.

Whether I’d be unable to meet her, or be stopped by the security guard upon arrival, I was determined to dash recklessly to where So-yul might be.

Just as I quickly grabbed the doorknob with that mindset.

Somehow… a faint melody seemed to be coming from beyond the door.

A tune so ticklish it raised goosebumps all over my body the moment it reached my ears.

A melody so distinct it spread to my toes in an instant, yet infinitely small and delicate.

The moment something like intuition brushed past me, I unconsciously pushed open the door.

And there, beyond the door, at the end of the sunlit corridor… stood a girl.

A girl so beautiful and lovely that I could never forget her in my entire life.

When our eyes met, she widened her eyes as if surprised.

But soon she looked at me and beamed a bright smile.

Only upon seeing that familiar smile did a sense of reality return.

This was neither a dream, nor a hallucination, nor anything else—it was definite reality.

Finally, the girl slowly opened her mouth.

Her trembling pink lips made some sound.

What followed was.

Looking up at me with playfully raised eyes, just like usual.

Whispering a brief greeting to her ‘precious person’ whom she had finally reunited with…

“…It’s been a while, boyfriend.”

It was So-yul’s voice.