Chapter 65: Running to the Edge of the Sky (2)

    “What do you mean, it doesn’t mean anything anymore?”

    I spoke without thinking.

    It was because the bright smile that had just bloomed on her face faded so quickly.

    The shadow on her expression looked particularly heavy.

    The black-haired part-timer turned her head to the window, as if avoiding my gaze.

    The late afternoon sunlight settled gently on her long eyelashes and crumbled away.

    “Well… it’s become hard for me to sing.”

    Her voice turned back toward me, oddly calm.

    But beneath that calm was a weighty emotion.

    Resignation.

    She raised the corners of her lips in a faint smile as she continued.

    “I used to be a singer. I wrote my own songs and sang them.”

    A singer-songwriter.

    Someone who composed and wrote their own lyrics.

    “But then… I developed a condition with my throat. I can’t sing like I used to.”

    Ah.

    This wasn’t a break or a temporary hiatus.

    It meant she could never go back.

    To a singer, losing their voice—

    I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant.

    “I-I’m sorry. That was an insensitive question.”

    I offered an awkward apology.

    It felt like I had touched something I shouldn’t have.

    “No, it’s fine. Hehe.”

    She waved it off softly, like it truly didn’t bother her.

    The café was still filled with the lazy air of late afternoon.

    Only our quiet voices hummed gently in the background.

    “My life now isn’t so bad. Working in a quiet place like this is okay. And my income is way more stable than before.”

    She gave a small shrug.

    “I wasn’t a famous singer or anything, so I’ve got no reason to cling to it. Honestly, I make more money now working part-time.”

    But her voice betrayed her lingering regret.

    Deep behind her forced smile, shadows flickered—

    A bittersweet trace of emotion for the music and voice that had once been her world.

    The song she wrote, Letter to the Sky.

    Just one sheet of music had pierced my heart.

    Something about it—

    Made me feel it couldn’t be forgotten like this.

    It was too precious.

    I didn’t know what I could do,

    but at the very least—this song.

    “Um… if it’s okay with you. I mean, if it’s not a bother.”

    Startled by my sudden words, she looked at me curiously.

    “That song… Letter to the Sky. Could I… try singing it?”

    Honestly, I didn’t know much about music.

    The only time I learned to read sheet music was back when I took piano lessons as a kid.

    I had no real technical knowledge.

    But strangely—

    Just looking at the notes,

    Just reading the title—

    I could tell how beautiful the song was.

    Every fiber of my body told me so.

    That’s why—

    Even knowing I was overstepping, the words left my mouth.

    I couldn’t stand the thought of this song being forgotten.

    Even just once—I wanted it to be heard by the world.

    And conveniently—

    I had the opportunity.


    (Former) singer-songwriter.

    (Current) café part-timer.

    Yoon Ha-yeon quietly studied the silver-haired girl in front of her.

    When the girl had entered the café nervously just a little while ago—

    Yoon Ha-yeon had murmured to herself.

    Her long silver hair shimmered in the sunlight,

    her porcelain-white skin flawless.

    Her large eyes, tinged with gold, looked like gemstones—

    but trembled with unease.

    Altogether, she looked like a doll—unrealistically beautiful—

    but her frightened expression inspired not discomfort, but a strange urge to protect.

    Sure enough, she’d hesitated in front of the menu,

    so Ha-yeon had spoken first and recommended the café’s signature drink.

    “Yes! I’ll take that.”

    Her voice.

    Even more than her looks—

    it was pure and clear, unforgettable.

    A unique tone that caught the ear and lingered.

    It felt vaguely familiar, but she brushed it off.

    Then came the minor commotion.

    Trying to pick up her dropped card, only for a pile of old sheet music to spill from her bag.

    The girl helped pick up the sheets, and her eyes lingered on one.

    Then she sat by the window, and said:

    ‘Um… about that sheet music from earlier.’

    ‘Could I ask what song that was?’

    ‘It just… looked like such a beautiful song. Even at a glance.’

    ‘It just… seemed really nice…’

    Awkward but sincere praise, with no embellishment or flattery.

    Yoon Ha-yeon’s emotions stirred deeply.

    Something warm surged from within.

    To have someone acknowledge your creation—

    For an artist, nothing feels better.

    Especially when said with such honest eyes, such genuine expression—it was enough to make her heart race.

    And then, the girl didn’t stop there.

    ‘Would it be okay… if I sang it?’

    Yoon Ha-yeon froze for a moment.

    Was she in the industry?

    A student studying composition?

    A singer in training? Or even an active singer or idol?

    With those visuals, she could easily be the center of an idol group.

    But remembering her panicked ordering,

    she seemed way too shy to be an idol.

    Of course, not all celebrities are bouncing around when off-camera—

    Some are the total opposite in private.

    Ha-yeon’s mind buzzed briefly.

    After losing her voice,

    she had hidden the song away like a faded diary no one read.

    Now a girl she’d just met wanted to sing it.

    But… what now?

    It’s not like anyone out there would sing the forgotten song of an unknown, broken singer-songwriter.

    Rather than letting it gather dust forever—

    Maybe, just maybe, letting this girl—

    who truly, genuinely wanted to sing it—

    give it a try once,

    might not be so bad.

    Even if she didn’t sing well…

    That voice earlier was beautiful.

    At the very least, her voice alone had been breathtaking.

    After a moment’s thought, Yoon Ha-yeon finally spoke.

    “Okay.”

    Then added:

    “In that case, could you give me your number? I’ll message you after my shift.”


    “So she lives in a goshiwon.”

    That evening.

    Yoo Seo-yeon stood in front of a tiny residence she found via the map app.

    It was the address given by the part-timer, Yoon Ha-yeon.

    She paused at the entrance to the goshiwon.

    It felt like going in for an interview.

    She even drank some bellflower tea just in case. Hopefully that would help.

    And yet, for a song she’d just discovered—

    to be this determined, speaking to a stranger,

    showing bulldozer-like drive…

    Even she was a little surprised by herself.

    ‘It’s because I liked the song that much.’

    All this, for a single sheet of music.

    Driven entirely by instinct.

    Maybe that spark would fade once she saw the full score.

    But still—

    She stepped inside.

    At the end of the narrow hallway, Ha-yeon smiled faintly.

    Now dressed in comfy sweats instead of her tidy uniform.

    Without makeup, her face looked paler,

    but her eyes seemed livelier than during the day.

    “You found it fast.”

    “Ah, yeah. The app was pretty clear…”

    They exchanged awkward greetings.

    Ha-yeon laughed sheepishly at the narrow hallway.

    “As you can see… not much. But it’s livable. Free ramen, too.”

    She might’ve looked fragile,

    but she seemed to live with positivity.

    “Anyway, it’s not soundproofed at all here. Better to head up to the roof. Wanna come?”

    “Sure.”

    The creaky metal stairs groaned underfoot. When the rooftop door opened, cool night air rushed in.

    City lights flickered in the dark. Distant noise from downtown could be heard faintly.

    Ha-yeon pulled out an old plastic chair from the corner and dusted it off.

    “Here, you can sit… or would you prefer standing?”

    “I’ll stand.”

    She handed over the sheet music.

    The same one from earlier.

    Taking a deep breath, Yoo Seo-yeon cleared her throat.

    The city night stretched around her.

    In her hand, the score:

    Letter to the Sky.

    The markings were still foreign.

    She wasn’t good at reading sheet music. Her only musical background was some Czerny back in elementary school.

    But the moment she saw this music again—

    A melody formed in her head.

    As if she’d always known how it was meant to sound.

    It felt natural, like reading her native language without effort.

    With Ha-yeon quietly watching—

    Yoo Seo-yeon sang the first note.

    ‘…!’

    The very first line.

    As her voice reached Ha-yeon’s ears,

    her eyes trembled—visibly, with each breath.

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