Chapter 2
It wasn’t only Dahye who had frozen.
Cheongrim Arts High School was known for gathering top young talents.
But no matter how talented they were, they were still just 17 years old.
As soon as lunchtime started, students rushed out all at once.
The only student left in the empty studio naturally caught the teacher’s attention.
“You changed the mood?”
The teacher, who came over thinking something might be wrong, stopped in front of Yeji’s painting.
The canvas had a boring painting of a vase—drawn in a timid and overly delicate way.
Even as a practice piece by a student, it was extremely old-fashioned.
The plan was to add a landscape through a window in the background.
A frame within a frame.
It was a common idea, but just right for a student’s level.
But unlike the original plan, the view outside the window was now filled with unfamiliar colors.
Dahye, distracted by the change in Yeji’s painting, muttered,
“…It’s good…?”
At her words, the teacher also nodded without realizing it.
The more they looked at Yeji’s painting, the more impressive it became.
The oil paint was applied boldly, almost as if it had been roughly smeared on.
But there was a clear texture and structure.
This wasn’t random paint.
It was a base layer, built up in layers, for a bigger picture.
“Are you thinking of going abstract with this?”
At the teacher’s question, Yeji paused.
She hadn’t really planned anything when she started painting.
A lingering feeling from the last painting in her past life had simply guided her hand.
“I… don’t know.”
Even with Yeji’s confused answer, the teacher smiled slightly.
The art department of Cheongrim Arts High School—
Only students with exceptional talent in art could enter.
A place where kids who had always been first place gathered.
But when such students gather, someone naturally becomes second, third, or even lower.
Because of that, many struggled to adjust to the gap between their past success and present reality.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to paint only with your head. Just follow your hand.”
The ones they had to be most careful of were students who only painted with their heads.
They had high standards and talked big, but didn’t actually progress.
The real problem was those who stayed stuck on sketches forever.
If the brush moved first, there was nothing to worry about.
“If this turns out well, you won’t have anything to worry about.”
The teacher patted Yeji’s shoulder with a satisfied look and left.
Still a bit dazed, Yeji watched the teacher walk away.
“…Worry?”
About what?
Thinking about the teacher’s unclear words, Yeji finally put down her brush.
From outside the studio, Dahye shouted,
“Yeji! Hurry!”
Art was important, but for energetic 17-year-olds, lunch was just as important.
“Let’s go!”
Hyunmin was there too, probably worried about what happened in the morning.
Urged by both of them, Yeji quickly left the studio.
But for a moment, she looked back at the paintings left in the room.
Dozens of easels lined up.
Dozens of canvases full of possibilities.
After one last glance, she closed the door.
“I knew this would happen! We were too slow, now there’s nothing good left!”
Dahye complained as she snapped apart her wooden chopsticks.
The sweet fried chicken was already gone, so there wasn’t much left to eat.
In the end, they were making cup noodles, while Hyunmin hurriedly ate them before they were even cooked.
“Hey! Wait till it’s cooked!”
“I have a soccer game with another class—ah, hot!”
“Ugh!”
Dahye threw him a wet tissue.
Even if she sounded a bit harsh, she was actually kind.
She set aside her overheated kimbap to cool and unwrapped a hot bar for Yeji.
“Thanks.”
While waiting for the noodles, Yeji ate the spicy hot bar and organized her thoughts.
A past life she suddenly remembered?
It was shocking, but easier to accept than she expected.
It was now September 2016.
Her birthday exactly matched the day she died in her past life.
As her memories became clearer, it didn’t feel like a coincidence.
So she decided to accept it.
What mattered most was that she was still painting—and still wanted to paint.
“Oh, I’m done eating, I’m going! You’re really okay, right? If you feel worse, tell me!”
Hyunmin rushed off after almost eating raw noodles.
“Yeah, okay.”
Watching him leave, Yeji pushed the rest of the hot bar into her mouth.
There were things she hadn’t noticed before when she saw him as just a classmate.
With her past-life memories back, she felt like she had gained insight beyond her age.
After swallowing, she asked,
“Have you ever heard anything about Kang Hyunmin’s family or parents?”
Dahye, stirring her noodles, tilted her head.
She looked confused but answered honestly.
“I think they work at a big company.”
That wasn’t anything special at an arts high school.
Dahye herself came from a well-off family—her parents were doctors.
Compared to them, Yeji, whose parents were ordinary office workers at small companies, was the unusual one.
At an arts school, many students came from wealthy backgrounds.
In fact, in Korea, it was almost impossible to dream of art without money.
“But why?”
“Nothing. I was just wondering what he plans to do for a living.”
Dahye laughed.
Cheongrim Arts High School was one of the top art schools in the country.
Students had to prove their talent through intense competition to get in.
Most students were ambitious and serious about their future.
After eating, it was normal for them to study or return to the studio.
So someone like Hyunmin, who acted freely, usually fell into one of two types:
Either a carefree genius who got in purely on talent,
Or someone with a powerful background who didn’t need to worry about the future.
“Still, even if he’s not great at drawing, he knows a lot about the art world. He could be a curator or planner.”
Hyunmin was more interested in appreciating art than creating it.
He was always up to date on exhibitions, shows, and art-related news, both in Korea and abroad.
He also had connections in dance and music departments.
“…You’re right. I should worry about my own life instead.”
Dahye smiled slightly and opened her kimbap.
“Eat this too. By the way, your painting earlier was good. That frame-style composition—you were worried it was too common, right?”
Most students, pressured by Korea’s strict education system, ended up thinking in similar ways.
But Yeji’s painting from earlier felt different.
“If you do it well, it could turn into something really impactful.”
The scenery outside the window that Yeji painted today was more abstract.
The brush strokes moved like waves.
It looked like the ocean—or like a night sky colored by clouds.
“Of course, it’s just the base layer, so we’ll have to see.”
With oil painting, details appear as layers dry and more paint is added.
For now, it was just clearly different from before.
“Why did you suddenly change like that?”
Instead of answering, Yeji took a bite of her noodles.
The spicy, salty taste filled her mouth.
Instead of the butter and flour smells from her past life, Korean flavors now surrounded her.
The lonely life she had lived before ended meaninglessly.
Now, her life was full of new possibilities and chances.
She couldn’t explain it in words yet…
“…Why are you suddenly smiling? Does your head still hurt?”
At Dahye’s words, Yeji smiled.
“I just realized the truth about life.”
Instead of explaining, she pushed the remaining kimbap into Dahye’s mouth.
After finishing their meal, they headed back to class.
Compared to her past life, the life of a Korean high school student felt like heaven.
Plenty of food, clean surroundings, and access to culture.
She wasn’t rich in this life either, but she wasn’t poor.
And most importantly—she had parents.
Parents who loved and supported their only daughter.
Thinking of them made her miss them deeply.
I want to see Mom and Dad.
A life like this—she wouldn’t trade it even for millions of euros.
“Are you going to academy after school today?”
“No, I’ll go home today.”
Yeji answered and opened the classroom door.
A crowd of students had gathered in front.
The room was noisy.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know, maybe it’s about choosing a major?”
“Anyone going to ask the teacher together?”
Dahye pushed through the crowd and approached a large poster.
Thanks to her, Yeji could also get closer.
<Cheongrim Arts High School 38th Annual Practical Exhibition>
Students called it “Yeonsiljong” for short.
“…Wow, it’s already here.”
Dahye said in despair.
“The schedule is already out?”
“It’s not early! The exhibition is in December.”
“The deadline is in November.”
“It’s the same thing!”
The judges weren’t just school teachers.
Every year, professionals from different fields participated.
Many important people came to view the exhibition.
If your work stood out, you could get big opportunities.
Yeji thought quietly.
Some practical classes even used these works for final grades.
It was a very important event.
Naturally, students felt pressured.
Was this the ‘worry’ the teacher mentioned earlier?
She checked the date.
[Submission deadline: November 30]
“About a month and a half left?”
Students groaned around her.
For most students, that wasn’t enough time to plan and finish a piece.
But Yeji was different.
“…That’s plenty of time.”
With the experience and memories from her past life, it was more than enough.
