Chapter 99 – D-Day (5)

The charity concert ended with So-yul’s performance.

Lights brightened throughout the auditorium, followed by the MC’s closing declaration. The audience began to disperse.

The auditorium, which had been filled with cheers and applause, gradually returned to its original state.

The festival-like atmosphere concluded so simply.

Except for one person… So-yul’s mother.

While people around her were leaving the auditorium one by one, So-yul’s mother alone remained seated.

She made no preparations to leave. She didn’t even move.

The way she blankly stared at the empty stage was frightening. At a glance, it seemed as if a ghost were sitting there.

Just then, an audience member seated nearby stood up. Walking toward the exit, they suddenly glanced back at So-yul’s mother, as if remembering something.

Then they nodded lightly to So-yul’s mother in greeting.

“My goodness, you have a wonderful daughter. I enjoyed today’s performance.”

Were they an acquaintance of So-yul’s mother? They must at least be familiar with each other. There was no hesitation when speaking, suggesting they were on greeting terms when they met.

Yet So-yul’s mother showed no reaction. She didn’t even turn her gaze, let alone acknowledge the greeting. Naturally, there was no verbal response either.

Even when the embarrassed person hurriedly left the auditorium saying, “Ah, I’ll see you next time,” she remained the same.

For what seemed like over a minute, So-yul’s mother just sat rigidly in place.

It was a satisfying sight.

If this were merely an act of revenge, I could turn my back and leave. I could just think, “I gave her a good taste of her own medicine,” and go to sleep with my legs stretched out.

But we had tomorrow to face.

And our tomorrow depended on that person.

My suggestion to So-yul to change her piece wasn’t motivated by simple revenge.

If she heard a performance style resembling her ex-husband’s, playing a piece from when they met, wouldn’t her heart be shaken at least a little?

Believing in that possibility, we had decided to confront her head-on.

What had So-yul’s mother felt listening to So-yul’s performance?

Had she finally recognized her daughter’s talent and decided to lift the various restrictions?

Or had she resolved to continue intimidating her until she abandoned her own dreams?

The dice had already been cast.

Now… it was time to check the result.

◎

With that in mind, as I approached where So-yul’s mother was sitting:

“Did you put her up to this?”

So-yul’s mother spoke without even turning her head.

Had she sensed my presence? She might have checked with a sidelong glance. Given that she asked such a pointed question as soon as I approached, there was a good chance she had been watching for me.

Either way, my response was predetermined.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“…Huh.”

When I answered calmly, So-yul’s mother let out a scornful laugh.

Her gaze was still fixed on the stage in front of her.

“I’m asking if you manipulated our So-yul. Didn’t you hear me?”

Her subsequent voice was laden with obvious hostility.

Unfortunately for her, I had long since stopped caring about such threats. An older woman getting angry at a high school student looked rather pathetic. It even seemed somewhat pitiful now.

So I deliberately smiled and said:

“No, why would I tell anyone what to do?”

Clench. I thought I heard the sound of a fist tightening nearby.

Ignoring it, I continued:

“So-yul and I aren’t anything to each other. At most, we’re just classmates. She wouldn’t listen even if I told her to do something.”

“…Is that so?”

Apparently, this answer considerably irritated her.

Finally, So-yul’s mother turned her head toward me.

“I don’t think our So-yul would do something like that on her own?”

Her tone was infinitely sharp. She stared at me intensely with furrowed brows. Her face was pure anger, having thrown away all charisma and pride. Her demeanor showed not a trace of composure.

In contrast, I maintained maximum calm:

“Something like what…? I’m not sure what you mean. Did she do something strange?”

“No, you don’t need to know that much. Right now, I’m asking who stirred up our sweet So-yul?”

So-yul’s mother stared at me with narrowed eyes and asked again.

She claimed her daughter wouldn’t do such a thing on her own, yet said I didn’t need to know what “such a thing” was. What exactly did she want?

If I had been a completely unrelated person, I would have been bewildered. I might have even avoided her, thinking, “Has this woman suddenly lost her mind?”

Therefore, the appropriate response now would have been to feign ignorance and ask, “What do you mean by ‘stirred up’?” As a mere classmate who admired So-yul’s outstanding performance, there would be no more fitting reaction.

Yet, unable to hold back:

“I don’t know what she did, but perhaps you don’t know your daughter well?”

“…What?”

So-yul’s mother’s eyebrows twitched slightly. It was a clear sign of anger.

Of course, it wasn’t my concern. I continued with an expressionless face:

“The Han So-yul I know is kind and gentle, but she’s also very decisive. She’s not the type to blindly follow what someone tells her to do, or to stay quiet when not told to do something.”

This was sincere.

The So-yul I had seen all along was someone who could do well enough on her own. Her abilities were beyond question. And her will was abundant enough that she hadn’t collapsed despite her mother’s various oppressions.

She had only followed her mother because of the special parent-child relationship. So-yul was inherently willful. Last semester, I had struggled quite a bit being led around by her.

Her mother, despite being a parent and living with her for over a decade, didn’t seem to know.

How assertive and strong So-yul was. How strong-willed she was.

But as they say, people only hear what they want to hear.

Soon, So-yul’s mother came up with an interpretation far from my intention.

“So you’re saying she acted on her own without listening to her mother at such an important performance?”

“What?”

“Why? Am I wrong? You said even her classmate could see she doesn’t follow instructions? So you’re saying she just ignored what I taught her and acted on her own during the performance.”

“No…”

As I stood speechless from the absurdity, So-yul’s mother smirked at me:

“Yes. Thanks for telling me. Despite her mother emphasizing it so many times, she didn’t follow instructions and ended up like this. I’ll have to teach her a lesson starting tomorrow.”

So-yul’s mother stared at me intently as she uttered these outrageous words.

She was probably saying this to provoke me.

If I truly had no relationship with So-yul, I wouldn’t care either way.

There would be no reason for me to get involved in a conflict between a classmate and her mother.

Knowing all this, understanding it completely, I still couldn’t help but question her:

“For a performance that supposedly went wrong because she didn’t listen to her mother and did as she pleased, wasn’t it excellent?”

As I said this with a hardened expression, So-yul’s mother immediately raised her eyes.

There was clear displeasure in her face as she looked at me.

“…I’m sorry, but what do you know about this?”

“If it still reached me despite my lack of knowledge, isn’t that even more impressive? Even the little kids sitting in the front and the distinguished guests who must have seen countless similar performances were all focused.”

And it was true. Everyone filling the vast auditorium had been unable to take their eyes off So-yul.

With that frail body, those thin fingers, she had moved hundreds of audience members to emotion. It was certainly not something to be dismissed.

This time, I glared at So-yul’s mother.

Finally unable to hold back, I dropped a pointed remark:

“Did you really feel nothing while listening?”

For a moment, I saw her eyes waver.

So-yul’s mother, who had been immediately retorting to my words until now, began silently glaring at me with tightly closed lips.

Just as I had expected.

Would someone be this displeased simply because their daughter didn’t correct a playing style that resembled her ex-husband’s?

Of course not. It had likely been the same at the concours, during the arts festival, and even before coming here. At those times, So-yul’s mother had been indifferent at most, not angry.

No matter how much she denied or tried to evade it, So-yul’s mother had remembered.

Memories from the concours where she met her ex-husband, So-yul’s biological father.

So-yul had moved the hearts of completely unrelated audience members.

For So-yul’s mother, who was entangled in that history, it must have resonated even more vividly.

A rattling sound echoed through the now-empty auditorium.

So-yul’s mother, who had seemed like she would sit there forever, was finally rising from her chair.

Then, picking up her handbag at her feet, she said:

“Say whatever you want.”

It seemed she was trying to run away in a cowardly manner.

Her face, as she looked at me, had distinct wrinkles drawn on it. Her gaze was exceptionally sharp. My presence must have been quite irritating to her.

Then, as if ending the conversation, she bluntly stated:

“Sorry, but I’m her mother. …In the end, will she listen to me? Or to you?”

It meant that no matter how much we struggled, things would inevitably go her way.

The moment I heard that, it felt like a thread I had been holding in my mind snapped.

“…Isn’t it about time you finally acknowledged her?”

I barely managed to utter these words through trembling lips.

It wasn’t something an ordinary classmate would do, but I had no time to worry about that now. The indignation building in my chest spilled out directly from my mouth.

Looking at me, So-yul’s mother smirked and replied:

“Who am I supposed to acknowledge?”

With just this response, she left the auditorium.

Thud, thud, the sound of her receding footsteps echoed particularly loudly.

Finally, silence descended upon the auditorium.

All the audience members had left. No one remained in their seats.

Standing alone in that emptied space, I mulled over what So-yul’s mother had just said.

‘Who am I supposed to acknowledge?’

A declaration that she would never acknowledge her daughter, no matter what happened.

Though I had known this all along, I never dreamed I would hear it from her own mouth.

I had believed she would at least feel some pangs of conscience in her heart. But apparently not even that existed.

I stared at the stage where the piano had been removed, leaving nothing behind.

I had hoped she would feel something through So-yul’s performance. I had expected that this charity concert might finally lead her to acknowledge So-yul.

I had dreamed that hearing a performance style resembling her ex-husband’s, playing a piece from when they met, might shake her heart a little… and lead to a future where she accepted her daughter as she was.

It was indeed a naive and soft-hearted idea.

Such fairy tale-like stories don’t unfold in the real world.

There was no way such a conveniently good ending would welcome us.

Then what was left for us now?

Would our wish to love normally never be fulfilled?

Were we destined to move toward a future with a bad ending waiting for us?

What could I possibly do for So-yul?