Chapter 27: Arts Festival (4)

The arts festival ended with So-yul’s performance.

The auditorium lit up brightly again, and the glass exit doors opened wide. Audience members started preparing to leave. Many left hurriedly even before the MC declared the closing.

So-yul’s parents were among them.

As if planned, the moment the lights came on, they stood and headed for the exit. Walking with utterly confident strides. Not even glancing at me standing in their path.

Surely they weren’t leaving without even talking to So-yul?

By the time this question arose, both had already mixed into the crowd of audience members, not even their shadows visible.

“We’re not sure how you found today’s performances. Thanking you once again for coming, we’ll now conclude this year’s arts festival. Thank you.”

Finally the MC’s closing remarks flowed through the auditorium.

The audience members who’d politely waited now started leaving as if they’d been waiting for this. The seats emptied quickly until there were more chairs visible than people.

Those leaving all wore satisfied smiles.

And all of this… I just stood there blankly watching.

My role as arts festival helper was over. So-yul’s performance had ended. There was no point staying here. Though I’d already wasted energy on helper duties, here I was uselessly wasting more time. It was a completely wasteful thing to do.

Though I clearly knew this, I couldn’t move an inch.

My chest felt tight, as if something remained undone.

I knew well myself what this unpleasant feeling was.

Really, it was ridiculous.

“…Good grief.”

Muttering these words almost to myself, I finally moved my long-frozen feet.

My destination: backstage.

◎

Even after the arts festival ended, approaching So-yul wasn’t easy. Watching eyes lurked everywhere in school. Wasn’t this why So-yul and I had been meeting in secret all this time?

So this time too, I had no choice but to peek secretly like at lunch.

For this reason, I was carefully trying to stick just half my face around backstage…

“…What are you doing here?”

…When suddenly a high-pitched voice came from behind.

I sharply inhaled in surprise. Turning around while fake coughing, I found the culprit who’d startled me… So-yul looking up at me with a small smile.

Still in her pure white dress. Unlike on stage, she’d removed her makeup. Her eyes were slightly red.

Wondering if maybe, I asked:

“Where’d you go?”

“Bathroom.”

“In your dress?”

“What kind of question is that to ask a girl?”

So-yul shot me a sharp look like I was being ridiculous. Well, it was quite a strange question… but I couldn’t exactly ask if she’d been crying either.

Wait, hold on.

Was it okay for us to be openly talking like this?

This thought suddenly struck me and I looked around. For some reason, there wasn’t a single shadow of a person backstage. Completely different from lunchtime when arts track students had been standing everywhere.

Though it had taken time for the audience to leave after the arts festival ended, this was unexpected. As I held this light curiosity, So-yul seemed to notice the meaning of my gaze. She stepped closer to explain:

“Everyone already left for the after-party. There’s a tradition of having dinner with the people you prepared with and the teachers after the arts festival.”

So that was it.

Well, wasn’t So-yul quite careful in her own way? She wouldn’t carelessly speak in situations where someone might be watching. I’d worried for nothing.

I turned back to So-yul:

“You’re not going?”

“I’ll change clothes and go right away. Though I performed alone, the orchestra club members asked me to come, so I’ll eat with them.”

“You’re popular.”

“Since I’m popular, I came out planning to go quickly.”

After saying this, So-yul held a loose smile and stretched out her index finger:

“And here you are standing here.”

She pointed at me while throwing out these words.

To me, it sounded like she was asking why I’d come here.

Though I caught this intention, I stayed quiet because I had no good answer. Fortunately, So-yul didn’t seem intent on pressing the issue, soon letting out a “well, whatever” with a small laugh.

Then tilting her head to one side, So-yul asked:

“So? How did you find my performance today?”

I knew this question was coming. Though I didn’t know why the sudden formal speech…

Anyway, I decided to convey my honest impressions while watching the performance. Meeting her eyes directly, I opened my lips:

“It was good.”

So-yul clicked her tongue.

“Say it sincerely.”

“I sincerely thought it was good.”

“Forget it. Dummy.”

So-yul grumbled while pushing out her lips.

Better stop the pointless teasing before she got more upset. After briefly clearing my throat, I laid out proper impressions:

“As you know, I don’t know anything about piano. I can’t explain what parts you played well or which sections were especially outstanding… But I felt really immersed. Enough that me and everyone else watched completely entranced.”

“Huhuhu. Right?”

The moment I offered this brief impression, So-yul instantly changed to her usual playful expression. She even made victory V-signs with both hands. It was hard to believe this was the same person who’d been sulking just moments ago.

Patting her chest, So-yul said:

“You’re walking around with such an amazing woman. Feel honored.”

“Alright, alright.”

Well, of course I’d known she was amazing before.

But it was true that I’d felt So-yul’s skill even more deeply through today’s stage. Plus, I’d clearly learned that I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

From this perspective, it was like seeing So-yul anew.

Finally So-yul stretched and said:

“Mmm~ Anyway, it’s finally over.”

Her tone sounded quite relieved.

“I was so worried I might mess up. Now my mind feels a bit at peace.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. Practice time will decrease a bit too, so I might be able to free up some schedule.”

After saying this, So-yul lifted the corners of her mouth while looking at me and:

“We can meet secretly again starting tomorrow.”

She just had to say something like this.

“Do whatever you want.”

“Okay. I will.”

Even at my indifferent response, So-yul shot back directly without any sign of backing down.

Just like usual, no, perhaps seeming even more comfortable than usual. Compared to her tense expressions last night and at lunch today, she seemed to have regained composure beyond measure.

And that, to me, felt rather pitiful.

After letting out a small laugh as if for me to hear, So-yul soon lowered her head.

Her gaze gradually fled far away, then started staring blankly somewhere in the distance.

Her next words held no strength:

“Mom and Dad left right after it ended, looks like.”

So it seemed.

As I couldn’t move my lips to say anything, So-yul continued with an “ahaha.”

“When I came out after performing, I got a message. Saying they were leaving now.”

“…Without seeing your face?”

“They’re busy so it can’t be helped. They must have many places to go and things to do. I’m already so grateful they came here like this.”

While repeating these words that seemed like self-comfort, So-yul drew a barely visible bitter smile.

I wasn’t so sure. No matter what, wasn’t this the day their daughter performed? Normally you’d at least see their face before leaving. No, typical parents would talk with their child before going.

Really, they were abnormal people in many ways.

Just as I was thinking this, So-yul continued:

“…They probably left because they were disappointed in the performance.”

Completely opposite from just before, an utterly deflated statement.

I glanced at So-yul’s condition. Her energetic expression had vanished without a trace. Dark clouds completely covered her face that had been so bright.

“I thought I’d finished well without mistakes. It felt even better than practice. I really did my absolute best, worked so hard I could confidently say I couldn’t have done better.”

After saying this much, So-yul bit her lower lip hard then:

“They must have found it very lacking. …Their expressions weren’t good.”

She let these words drift out before falling silent.

She looked like a kitten abandoned by its parents.

It was natural.

So-yul had always worked tirelessly, wanting only her parents’ approval. Even to me who’d watched briefly from the side, I could feel how much effort she’d put in.

But today, So-yul had all of that completely denied.

Despite giving a performance excellent enough for everyone to admire, she received no recognition from her parents.

It was too natural that she’d be hurt inside, wrapped in disappointment and self-loathing.

“…This time, I really wanted praise.”

So-yul added these words in a weak voice.

Perhaps this was the only true feeling she’d conveyed to me.

Was it really that hard to say one nice thing?

After a performance that captivated viewers with excellent skill.

Behind the curtain that fell amid countless cheers and applause… only one child remained.

Not Korea’s most promising piano prodigy, not the kind and popular model student everyone liked, not the daughter of world-renowned parents.

Just an innocent girl who would be endlessly happy at even a small compliment.

To this So-yul, her parents didn’t offer even one word.

Not just that. Rather, they crossed their arms and shot sharp glares, leaving their daughter only with despair.

Where everyone else continued applauding saying how well she did, only those two refused to acknowledge So-yul.

I couldn’t understand it at all.

Why were So-yul’s parents so harsh to her?

And I… why did my chest hurt watching So-yul like this?

Before finding answers to these questions.

My mouth was already speaking words.