I Became A Renowned Genius At My Arts High School - Chapter 164



Only Noblemtl

Episode 164. Fifteen Funerals

Knock knock. Knock knock.

It rained at dawn.

Su-hyeon, who opened her eyes with a start because it was raining so much that it woke her up even while she was sleeping, closed her eyes again after confirming that it wasn’t a heavy rain.

But at dawn, there were others who were awake besides Soo-hyeon.

“What is it?”

“What is it?”

A neighborhood shrouded in dusk.

Two suspicious shadows moved.

The two moved cautiously in opposite directions, but unfortunately their destination was the same.

It was a town hall.

“Hey, are you going to clean up?”

Grandma Kang Young-ja was the first to sneer at Grandma Choi Young-im, who was standing there holding a mop and detergent.

“I’m the one who said I’ll clean up after myself. So what are you doing?”

Grandmother Choi Young-im also glared at Grandmother Kang Young-ja, who was holding cleaning tools in both hands, and snapped at her.

“Are you the only one who did this? And this is a community center that everyone in the town uses.”

“… … .”

“… … ”

There was a moment of silence, and the two grandmothers snorted, turned their backs, and began to wipe the paint-stained walls and floors.

“Oh my. This won’t erase.”

However, the paint on the paper wallpaper had already soaked in so deeply that there was no way to wipe it off. It seemed difficult to clean it without applying new wallpaper or painting.

“You can leave the wall bare. Cheolsu’s house has agreed to paint it.”

Grandma Kang Young-ja blurted out the words without even looking at me.

“joy.”

Grandma Choi Young-im snorted again as if she understood the monologue and began to clean the floor. And so the morning dawned.

***

“The wall has really become brighter. Looking at it again, it looks like a work of art.”

Classes have started again.

When Su-hyeon brought up yesterday’s story as if nothing had happened, the elders coughed in embarrassment.

“The floor is a bit erased, but the walls are still clear. Take a look.”

When Su-hyeon smiled faintly, the elders turned their heads hesitantly.

Embarrassingly clear brush marks remained on the wall, and the elders who saw them coughed louder than before.

“This is a wall created by everyone swinging their brushes yesterday. Here’s a question: How did you all feel at that time?”

When Soo-hyeon asked, the elders’ faces contorted as if they were about to cry. Soo-hyeon smiled and said.

“I don’t mean to be a dick about it. I just wanted to tell you that thanks to what happened yesterday, you all learned how to draw and got a lot closer to drawing.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You learned how to draw? Us?”

“A famous American abstract artist became extremely famous yesterday for exhibiting a random painting he created by dripping and dripping paint with a brush, just like the old people did.”

Su-hyeon briefly introduced an anecdote about Jackson Pollock.

Yesterday, I asked my friends to clean up the messy classroom and lead the class by introducing Jackson Pollock, but I heard that they were not in the mood to continue the class and could not even bring up Jackson Pollock’s Jack Jar.

“Of course it was wrong to fight, but thanks to that, you can see that you have become closer to the painting without even realizing it.”

“Oh my. No matter what, can you call something like that a painting?”

“That’s right. I can’t even recognize you.”

“The shape is unclear, but can’t you feel the emotion?”

Soo-hyun said, looking at the wall.

“Just look at the brush marks. How do they feel?”

“Wow. You seem really angry.”

“I think I’m a bit nervous.”

“That’s right. You’re really angry.”

Su-hyeon nodded quickly and spoke to the elders who had begun to speak cautiously, saying a few words.

“That’s why. You can feel something. That’s what a painting is. There’s no reason to think about it too hard. Even if you shake the brush and sprinkle paint, or even just doodle, it can all become a work of art. Even if you don’t have the skills, if you have sincerity and sincerity and can express and convey your own feelings and thoughts well, then it can be called a good painting.”

And when Soo-hyeon nodded, her friends distributed the paper books they had prepared in advance to each of the elderly people.

“So we thought about how we could approach the painting very easily. First, would you like to look at the books I gave you one by one?”

As Su-hyeon spoke, the elders began to flip through the books in front of them.

“Oh my, what is this?”

“Is that my face? It’s the same.”

“Hey. Same. Me too, Grandi? This isn’t my face!”

A hand-bound book.

The day before, Su-hyeon and her friends made 15 books, each with 16 pages, the size of a 16-section paper, and drew the covers themselves.

I drew the faces of the grandparents who would become the main characters of the book in large sizes and made them into the cover.

The elders were amazed to see the cover that looked exactly like their own faces, but they also tilted their heads as to how to fill in the empty pages of the book.

“From now on, I’m going to imagine something a little sad.”

As Soo-hyun nodded, Park Jun-young, who had been waiting for the signal, clicked. He pressed the play button on the cassette and the music started playing.

It was a song where a sad piano solo was played and then a sad-sounding vocalist hummed a lonely melody.

“Should we try again in about 15 years, or maybe 20 years?”

Su-hyeon met the eyes of each and every elder in the village hall and spoke.

“When that time comes, people who were close to us will leave us one by one. It will be very sad.”

“Hmm.”

“Huh.”

The elders nodded their heads, making strange sounds.

There is no set order to death, but as you get older, you start to think more about death. The elderly also often talk about death as if it were a habit. They also acknowledge that that time is getting closer.

However, when it came to talking about death in a public setting, he seemed awkward and hesitant.

Su-hyeon read the mood and calmly continued.

“The book in front of you is a guest book at a funeral home.”

“this?”

“A funeral?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You can just pass the books around and write letters in the guestbook.”

“Ugh.”

“Huh.”

Su-hyeon kindly added an explanation to the elderly people who still looked puzzled.

That is, imagine the person drawn on the cover as if he had passed away, imagine his funeral, and write down what you would like to say to him through drawings and words.

The elders who had heard the story slowly nodded their heads.

“So you’re saying we should hold a funeral in advance?”

“Hmm. It feels weird that my mind is getting fuzzy.”

“Just imagine. Write and draw honestly the words we normally couldn’t say, the words we only kept in our hearts. Imagine that person is no longer in this world.”

Park Jun-young turned up the volume of the cassette a little more.

Su-hyeon had the elders sitting in a circle turn the pages of the book clockwise, and the adults who opened the first page hesitated for a moment before quickly writing or drawing something.

Ss …

Swish-.

Square, square.

For a long time, the village hall was filled with the sound of pencils and brushes moving.

Two hours later.

Fifteen books were completed.

Even though there was a break in between, it was a pretty long class for the seniors.

Experiencing the funeral of fourteen people, excluding myself, and writing in the guestbook was an emotionally draining act that made me think a lot. As a result, everyone looked visibly exhausted by the end of the class.

However, there was still more to finish.

“Have you now gone around and received all your books?”

Soo-Hyeon looked at the elders warmly and said.

In the meantime, Su-hyeon and her friends helped the elderly who had difficulty writing and drawing to complete the book, and as they flipped through the pages, they found that the content was quite serious and heartbreaking.

So, it was anticipated what kind of emotions the main character of the book would feel.

“I’ll give you a moment to look through the completed book. Then, please pick the guestbook entry you like the most.”

The elders held the guestbook that had been returned to them with strange faces.

The face drawn on the cover was smiling brightly like a memorial portrait.

And then, the next page I turned was filled with heartbreaking stories written in tiny grains.

“Hmm.”

“Ugh.”

There were short sighs here and there, and some people even wiped away tears.

As I imagined the funerals of my neighbors, my heart grew sadder, and as I experienced my own funeral in advance, it grew even more intense. And.

“Ugh.”

Grandma Choi Young-im, who was quietly turning the pages of a book, suddenly burst into tears.

“Hey.”

The same was true for Grandma Kang Young-ja, who was sitting across from me.

The two of them shed large tears over the book and looked at each other with eyes filled with a mixture of resentment, regret, and pity.

“I told you earlier. Why didn’t you just finish the funeral?”

“Bad year. Why are you talking now?”

It was clearly a guestbook with guaranteed anonymity. But it seemed like the two recognized each other’s handwriting.

And a short line written next to a flower.

-I didn’t hate you.

A shorter line with sincerity written beneath a friend’s face.

-sorry.

Those two courageous sentences seemed to have melted the long-standing lump that had been weighing on my chest.

“Okay, then let’s talk about your favorite guestbook entries one by one.”

Su-hyeon pretended not to know and continued with the class.

After class, the two grandmothers will talk about what they had been putting off, and the misunderstandings will gradually be resolved.

***

“Did you get the letter?”

The end of summer.

Su-hyeon and her friends, who had decided to spend the last day of vacation together, gathered for lunch at a restaurant in front of Baekhyundae for the first time in a long while.

“I brought it anyway. He even sent me a picture.”

Su-hyeon smiled brightly and took out a thick envelope from her bag.

After completing fifteen funeral classes in Hamun-dong, Su-hyeon and her friends wrapped up their schedule the next day by giving a mural class.

Although the travel period was greatly shortened, it was a rewarding volunteer activity, and my relationship with the elders became stronger, so we were able to exchange news.

The village chief wrote a brief letter about what had happened in Hamun-dong after Su-hyeon and her friends left, and included photos of the neighborhood that had changed so much.

The wall mural that Soo-hyeon and her friends had been demonstrating was now beautifully completed.

“Wow, it’s so pretty.”

“You created a flower garden.”

“There’s also a picture of the dining table. Wow, it looks delicious, really.”

“You draw so easily. Your expression looks so happy.”

“Wow! Look over here. It’s Grandma Choi Young-im and Grandma Kang Young-ja.”

“Oh, really?”

“Are you two back together again? You’re drawing pictures while sticking close to each other?”

“Oh my, oh my. It’s true! Wow. It looks like you’ve really reconciled.”

“It went really well.”

The children who returned the letters and photos together had pleased expressions on their faces.

Although I was tired and my body was sore, I felt proud and happy that I had spent a more intense and hot time than any other summer.

“What a beautiful ending.”

“And here we go again.”

“That’s right. Even as a college student, vacations are short.”

“What classes are you taking in the second semester?”

“Are you going to take the major common class again this time?”

As we talked about the new semester, it felt like I was a student again. A prepared daily life was waiting for Soo-hyun and her friends.

“Let’s choose carefully this time. Why does it always end up being the hardest class when we’re looking for something comfortable?”

“Isn’t that because Soohyun chose it? She secretly has some clumsy hands.”

“Wow, that’s harsh. You call me a clumsy person. And you said that even though it was hard, it was good that your skills improved.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s really get to know each other this time. I’ll have fun and try being a college student. It’s too hard. Too hard.”

Although they grumbled, everyone looked excited for the new semester.

College life was more fun than I had imagined, and I was happy to be with my close friends. I wish this time could last forever.

But life doesn’t always work that way.

“……uh?”

Su-hyeon, who returned home after parting ways with her friends, checked the thick envelope in her mailbox.

Judging by the blue and red stripes around the outer perimeter, it was international mail.

“Steve?”

As I guessed, it was Steve’s letter.