Chapter 57: Concours

While focused on studying for exams, I glanced at my phone.

The screen showed 2:28 AM.

In 30 minutes, So-yul’s performance would begin.

As the time approached, a strange tension crept over me. My chest tightened and my fingers holding the pen trembled slightly. My heart had been pounding for a while already.

Despite assuring her she’d do well, seems I couldn’t shake off my own worries.

Getting restless long before the actual broadcast – it was quite ridiculous.

“Phew.”

I carelessly tossed my pen onto the notebook where I’d been copying notes.

I knew absolutely nothing about piano. Whether watching or listening to others perform, it clearly wouldn’t mean much to me.

That’s why I’d planned to continue studying until just before So-yul’s 3 AM performance.

But as her turn approached, I couldn’t focus properly. I kept checking my phone screen wondering if it was time yet.

There was no way information would stick in my head while trying to cram with such a racing heart. This was truly a waste of time.

Might as well watch the competition broadcast instead.

I cleared away the scattered notebooks and textbooks from my desk. In their place, I set up my cheap personal laptop. Though the performance was poor, it should handle one video just fine.

I turned it on and waited for it to boot. Since I needed to hear the music, I plugged in earphones. I also didn’t forget to lower the screen brightness to avoid getting caught.

When I opened the internet and entered the link So-yul sent, an English website popped up. A livestream video was displayed in the center.

In the video, an unidentifiable foreign woman was playing the piano.

Soon… So-yul would appear in that spot.

I watched the current participant’s performance for a while.

Her stiff expression and awkward movements. She was clearly very nervous just looking at her.

Watching made me feel such sympathy.

I wasn’t familiar with piano. I had zero experience, let alone knowledge. I truly had no place to comment.

But I’d seen So-yul play piano quite a lot. Enough to even feel somewhat proud.

Since So-yul always poured appropriate emotions into each piece, I no longer felt much from ordinary performances.

That was surely why I felt something lacking even in pieces I was hearing for the first time.

Soon the piece ended, and the woman quietly removed her hands from the piano.

The camera switched views and started showing both the audience and judges’ seats.

Only then did I somewhat understand why the woman had been so nervous.

What appeared on screen was far more audience members than expected. And judges with completely hardened expressions.

No wonder a novice pianist left alone in the middle of such a huge stage would feel pressured.

Even I… if told to take an exam while everyone watched in a place like that… just imagining it made me shudder.

This was truly incomparable to something like the school arts festival.

I had the feeling that if I were in So-yul’s position, I couldn’t have handled even the arts festival.

The pressure So-yul had been carrying all this time must have been far greater than what ordinary people like me could comprehend.

It was a moment of sudden realization.

The woman managed a strained smile while looking at the audience. In response, brief applause followed from the crowd.

Though I thought she’d stand and exit then… unexpectedly, she immediately placed her hands back on the piano.

Looking back, So-yul had mentioned it. This competition required playing two pieces consecutively.

Seems what I just heard was the first piece.

Soon after, the woman’s performance began again.

“…Ah.”

This sound escaped me involuntarily the moment I heard the first measure.

It was a familiar piece. No, more than just familiar. I’d heard it so many times I could predict which notes would follow.

Of course that was natural.

This was… the piece So-yul played for me in the piano room after the school trip.

While with me, So-yul had continuously practiced. She even repeated the same measures dozens of times. At this point, it was normal to be familiar with the piece.

But though it was the same piece as back then, it felt quite different now.

To be frank, it was an utterly mediocre performance. Nothing lacking, but nothing particularly impressive either.

When So-yul played this piece, it created a tickling sensation in my ears.

The warm and cozy melody, the soft notes that seemed to gently embrace you. Everything came across wonderfully without exception.

This performance sounded like she was just desperately chasing the notes written in the score.

It made me newly appreciate So-yul’s talent.

Enough to make me furious at her parents for trying to crush such talent.

Either way, time never stood still.

As I watched other participants perform, the time displayed in the corner of the screen suddenly showed 3:00.

Soon it would be So-yul’s turn.

Silence had fallen over the concert hall where the competition was being held. Everyone, from audience to judges, was completely quiet. The atmosphere was so chilly I wondered if my earphones were broken.

They must be waiting for the next participant.

Of course, I was no different.

I bit my lip trying to kill the tension while eagerly awaiting So-yul’s appearance. When the computer clock showed 3:01, I started worrying something had gone wrong.

Fortunately, those were all needless concerns.

Finally, an announcement played in the concert hall. Simultaneously, the camera showed the stage with just a single piano.

Then a spotlight lit up at the edge of the stage.

As everyone watched with bated breath, a tiny girl walked into that dazzling light.

It was So-yul.

Her blue dress that gave off a mature air fluttered gracefully. Her characteristic amber hair was neatly arranged and braided to one side. She hadn’t forgotten the light makeup that added to her charm.

So-yul radiated presence more dazzling than even the bright lights.

From her classical outfit to her elegant hairstyle. She looked completely different from usual So-yul.

My heart that had been pounding from tension started racing for an entirely different reason.

She was beautiful beyond words.

Truly, So-yul stood out more distinctly than anyone else.

Soon So-yul lightly held her dress and slowly moved forward. With each step, the spotlight surrounding her moved along.

Though the camera only showed So-yul, surely every gaze in the concert hall followed her as well.

I prayed again and again in my heart that she could shake off the pressure while receiving everyone’s attention. That she wouldn’t be too nervous and could show her true abilities.

After a moment, So-yul reached the piano and turned to face the audience.

She silently gazed at the audience seats then gave a small bow to the countless dot-like audience members.

Her faintly trembling lips seemed to clearly show the tension enveloping her.

Then she turned around and demurely took her seat at the piano bench.

Her snow-white fingers settled neatly on the keys. Soon So-yul’s eyes gently closed. After several deep breaths, she opened her eyes wide and…

Finally, the first piece began.

From the start, fierce notes struck my ears. Every movement carried force as if wanting to express anger. Her gaze sharpened to match. Her movements striking the keys were endlessly rough.

This was a side of So-yul I’d never seen before.

Just like the previous competition, she completely transformed as if possessed by some spirit.

Her expressions and movements changed with the flow, as if she’d become one with the piece.

As she’d said herself, it created the illusion that she was putting on some kind of performance.

She instantly drew in any observer. This was surely So-yul’s characteristic and greatest strength.

Yet maintaining precision and delicacy must certainly be the result of desperate practice.

If she could just continue like this until the end… she’d have a chance.

Partway through, the piece entered a calmer mood.

Following the reversed melody, the performance also became quite gentle. It felt like the suffocating air constricting everything suddenly released.

So-yul pressing the keys with loving touches.

As she continued playing as if embracing the notes trapped in the piano, it conveyed just how much So-yul loved the piano.

Her pink lips opened and closed, perhaps out of breath from the intense performance. Beads of sweat gradually formed on her smooth skin.

Yet So-yul’s fingers continued creating wonderful sounds without pause.

For So-yul completely immersed in the piano, even that seemed no distraction.

Then suddenly the piece’s mood started building.

Force entered So-yul’s playing, and sounds more intense than the beginning repeatedly struck my ears.

It seemed to have reached the climax.

So-yul, who had been striking the piano relentlessly, now appeared somewhat tired.

The tension around her eyes seemed like a strategy to endure until her limit.

She couldn’t collapse before finishing the piece. Such intent was readable on her face filled with desperation.

Rather, as if whipping herself on, So-yul’s performance grew increasingly fierce.

Her movements, expressions, technique and tempo control. Everything felt like a script prepared to overwhelm observers.

Just as the performance approached the finale like that.

The melody that had been constantly striking my ears twisted ever so slightly.

So-yul’s brow furrowed slightly. I thought I saw her shoulders jerk in surprise.

Clear signs of dismay showed on So-yul as she gently bit her lip.

Of course that only lasted a moment. Soon So-yul immediately regained her original pace.

After fixing her tempo and re-immersing herself in the performance, So-yul started showing the same incredible playing as before.

However, by now it was impossible not to notice.

Probably just then, So-yul had made a small mistake.

It was a mistake that even I, a complete amateur, clearly caught. Even before confirming So-yul’s reaction, I’d had my doubts. The judges well-versed in piano must have noticed distinctly.

And surely… So-yul’s parents sitting in the audience as well.

An unpleasant premonition crossed my mind.

As if trying to ignore this feeling, I forced myself to focus on the performance.

Soon the piece’s intensity faded. Notes disappeared one by one in order. So-yul’s movements slowly subsided.

After finishing the very last note, So-yul removed her hands from the piano.

As she concluded her performance, her eyes remained tightly closed.

Simultaneously, applause erupted from the audience.

Along with cheers fiercer than for any other performance I’d watched these 30 minutes.

The camera view changed to show the expressions of the audience and judges.

Despite the small mistake, the judges seemed relatively satisfied. As if such a mistake could be overlooked compared to the utterly mediocre performances before.

Only then did So-yul let out a sigh of relief as the tension drained away.

Following her, I also exhaled a long breath.

I’d worried what would happen when she made the mistake mid-performance. I also thought it was rare to see So-yul make mistakes.

It likely meant this stage placed enormous pressure on So-yul.

Despite facing various difficulties, So-yul had managed to recover well. If she could just perform the next piece smoothly, there’d be no problem.

Perhaps it might even be possible for So-yul to prove her skills to her parents as she’d dreamed.

So-yul looked back at the audience. When she bowed her head in thanks, even greater support poured from the audience seats.

Then she raised her head. A smiling expression appeared in her eyes.

But… So-yul’s eyes suddenly went wide as she looked at the audience.

Her face instantly hardened, her gaze wandering through empty space.

No way…

No, it wasn’t even “no way.”

I’d already vaguely sensed it.

While everyone else was satisfied, there was only one existence that could shake So-yul like this… only one in the world.

Soon after, So-yul placed her fingers on the keys. She seemed to be preparing to play her second piece.

But it was completely different from before.

Her fingers trembled violently. Her lips also held a quivering. Her whole body was completely stiff, showing intense tension just like the previous participants.

Frozen like that, So-yul couldn’t begin playing for a while.

With trembling fingers and lips, she just silently stared down at the keys before her.

At this unexpectedly sudden change, confusion filled the concert hall.

Had she gathered her resolve? Only after several dozen seconds did So-yul start playing the piano again.

But those movements were completely stiff, unlike before.

A melody far removed from the notes she’d returned to me in the piano room last time.

A completely empty tune, devoid of any warmth or anything else.

A truly mechanical performance, just stringing together the notes written in the score.

Watching So-yul like this was so painful… I ended up grinding my molars.

That night.

When I checked the website’s list of winners again, So-yul’s name was nowhere to be found.