Novelist Running Through Time

TL: KSD

The season when cicadas cry has arrived.

Hearing the sound of cicadas brings back memories vividly.

The life of a cicada, enduring a long period of hardship underground, then emerging in summer to cry out brilliantly before perishing. Many people seek literary value in it.

That’s why cicadas are always a theme in the essay competitions around this time. So, for me, summer was the season to write poems, s, essays, and prose about cicadas.

It could really be said to be unbearably annoying.

So, one day, I wrote a piece that outright demeaned the life of cicadas, going against the imagery and themes the judges desired, and it caused a problem.

It deviated from the theme, lacked any literary value, and was criticized for being a piece filled with contrarian tendencies that criticized everything without reason.

At that time, there was only one kid who appreciated my writing.

‘I liked it, though.’

That’s how we met. In a neighborhood park just far enough outside the city where you could hear cicadas. Under the shade of trees that blocked the warm sunlight. Both of us holding manuscript paper and pens.

‘Honestly. Aren’t you tired of cicadas?’

Two aspiring ists with contrarian tendencies continued their conversation.

Since that day, the sound of cicadas hasn’t seemed all that bad.

Although the supervisor thought differently.

“The sound of cicadas is too loud, shall I close the window?”

The exam supervisor asked but didn’t wait for an answer before closing the window.

With a thud, as the window closed, the sound of cicadas was cut off. My reminiscing was cut off as well.

Only the sound of the air conditioner running could be heard in the silence.

“The exam will now begin.”

At the supervisor’s signal, people of all ages began rustling their test papers and started solving the problems.

It was the beginning of the middle school equivalency exam.

EP 3-Magic Sword~nim, please control me!

Whether then or now, I was never particularly interested in studying. I had an interest in studying literature but not in school studies.

Since middle school, I had traveled the country to match the schedule of essay competitions and was famous as a prodigy who swept literary awards without being from an arts school.

Honestly, I was among those who prepared for their future diligently at the orphanage, even though I had given up on studying.

Nevertheless, there was no big problem with starting school life again. The 12 years of basic education were truly miraculous, as I thought I had forgotten everything, but as soon as I opened a book, memories started to come back.

At least, that was the case up to the primary school level.

‘What’s this.’

「Express the repeating decimal 0.555…… as a fraction.」

「In right triangle ABC, where AB=5, BC=4, AC=3, what is the value of tanB?」

‘Why is there English in math.’

My trembling hands barely managed to pick an answer. Not choose, but ‘pick’. Meeting middle school math after a long time was too cruel for a student from the humanities…

After a merciless 40 minutes passed, just when I was battered by math, a fearsome killer came to cut off my last breath-

That assassin’s name was ‘Science’.

「In which phase of cell division do chromosomes align in the center of the cell?」

「What is the total amount of salts dissolved in 2kg of seawater with a salinity of 35psu?」

‘Ah.’

That summer.

Moon In-seop fell due to his long-standing illnesses, math and science.

* * *

At a café near New Light Spring Orphanage, sitting by the window.

Three members of the publishing management department sat side by side.

“It’s okay! It happens!”

“Right, Author~nim! Don’t be too disappointed!”

“……”

Sitting between Lim Yang-wook and Baek Seol, Moon In-seop looked down at the coffee in his hand with dead fish-like gloomy eyes.

Lim Yang-wook and Baek Seol earnestly patted the disheartened boy on the shoulder, offering their support.

“Hey! A primary school student failing the middle school graduation equivalency exam can happen! Why are you so shocked!”

“Right. You almost passed. Considering your age, that’s really amazing!”

The encouragement did not help at all. Only the sense of self-loathing deepened.

Instead, consolation became a dagger that pierced deeply into the heart.

‘I’m… 23 years old…’

Moon In-seop. Physical age 13. Mental age 23.

Middle School Graduation Equivalency Exam.

Failed.

“This level of normal human!! I really thought he was on his second life?”

“If math is hard for you, I can tutor you, Author-nim. If you don’t know, you can learn!”

“Wow. A graduate from Oxford is offering to tutor. In-seop! Opportunities like this don’t come often!”

Moon In-seop protested to maintain at least a minimum of human dignity. Excuses flowed continuously from the boy with his head bowed.

“……It was just mistakes. If I hadn’t displaced my answer sheet in Korean, if I hadn’t guessed the last three questions in English out of confusion, and if all had been as per the provisional scoring, I would have passed comfortably. At most, middle school math and science might have been challenging due to a few killer questions, but the rest was easy, wasn’t it? If I hadn’t displaced the OMR card in Korean, I would have passed.”

Lim Yang-wook and Baek Seol looked at the boy with warm eyes. Their gaze meant ‘whatever you say, we believe in you.’

Realizing that no matter what excuses he made, the two adults would only look at him adorably, Moon In-seop downed his coffee like it was soju.

“Keuuuuh……!”

It was a soju craving day.

He wanted to down the salty aftertaste of squid fried in spicy tteokbokki sauce, mixed with the aromatic fish cake broth on the streets in the evening, with soju…

Click. Lim Yang-wook naturally took a photo of Moon In-seop’s distressed appearance, then brought out a prepared alternative.

“Hey. Didn’t Professor Gu ask you to come to the arts middle school again?”

“He seems to visit our orphanage too often…”

“Who else would it be because of? Anyway, if you don’t want to go to school because it interferes with writing, from what I see, it makes sense to go to the arts middle.”

Moon In-seop tilted his head in confusion.

“Why?”

“I asked the staff at Baekhak Entertainment, and they send even idol trainees and active idols to arts middle and high schools. But it’s not because the schools teach arts well!”

“Then why?”

“It’s-”

* * *

“Kim Byul is appearing on a variety show? We’ll count it as attendance. We have to accommodate those actively working.”

The era of dinosaur experts has ended.

It’s the era of celebrities.

The career most desired by children who grew up holding smartphones is to become an entertainer. And the parents of talented children also wish to make their child an entertainer.

The time when actors were treated as frivolous has ended. Now, those who hold cultural power grasp wealth and fame. This is the trend of the era.

Thus, the competition for art schools, including arts middle and high schools, was becoming increasingly fierce, and not only the applicants were caught up in this competition.

The schools themselves were entangled in it.

“What? The ‘Super Trot Star’ runner-up canceled their admission to our school?”

“Yes. They said it’s too far from home and they’d have to separate from their friends, so it’s quite burdensome.”

“And then they just transfer to another arts middle school? We need to check on it. If we’ve already promoted them online and then lose them to another school, we’re completely made fools of!”

The performance of an arts school depended on how many famous artists it produced. Conversely, how many famous artists are enrolled can also be a performance indicator.

Therefore, art schools are always desperate to enroll young artists as students.

-A school attended by famous celebrity XXX!

The number of parents deceived by this phrase, and the tuition fees they pay, is enormous. The hope parents have for their children’s success and the expenses they incur are proportional.

Moon In-seop had long been marked as an S-grade talent. Focusing on this had become the principal task of Baekhak Arts Middle School’s principal lately.

“Isn’t Author Moon a Baekhak man? Then, naturally, he should advance to Baekhak Arts Middle School! Why haven’t those Baekhak Entertainment folks given a definite answer yet?”

The vice-principal, suppressing a retort about ‘Baekhak man’ actually being ‘Baekhak kid’, responded to the principal’s complaints.

“You know what CEO Baek Seung-won’s temperament is like. How could we possibly dare to demand they hand the kid over to us?”

“Then, couldn’t we possibly sweet-talk the person in charge of Author Moon?”

“That person, as I found out, is a notorious nutcase in their circle. Communication is just impossible…”

“This is driving me nuts, really…”

Of course, the truly venerable art schools didn’t need to undergo such struggles. As it goes with art, tradition creates something that money can’t buy.

Where the most talented naturally enroll, the children of conglomerates come to learn musical instruments, and the industry’s top musicians consider it an honor to accept a teaching position…

Such schools do exist.

However, Baekhak Arts Middle School and Baekhak Arts High School were not of that caliber.

The history of the two side-by-side schools was less than ten years, and though history doesn’t guarantee tradition, compared to other schools, their history was practically infantile.

Yet, the reason the two middle and high schools under the Baekhak Arts Foundation were counted among the top ten prestigious institutions was precisely because…

They were schools launched with great ambition by the conglomerate ‘Baekhak’, which prides itself as the emperor of media.

Thus, the principal of Baekhak Arts Middle School was not a puppet performing the bidding of the board of directors, like in other private schools, but more a salaried man who must present achievements directly to the chairman, who is a direct descendant of the conglomerate.

“…Not to mention, the chairman had this to say.”

“What, what was it?”

“Always taking in those entertainers as students, what good is that? In the end, aren’t we just nurturing kids for Baekhak Entertainment with our money? Is this Baekhak Entertainment’s second division or what?”

“…”

“If it’s an arts school, shouldn’t we be nurturing artists? Why always idols and actors? Take in kids who do classical music or dance. If not, at least bring that famous ist or whoever. If a kid from Baekhak goes to another school, what a disgrace that would be…”

Hearing the principal’s words, the vice-principal felt as though the chairman’s nagging voice was automatically playing in his head.

The message was quite simple.

The Baekhak Arts Foundation was a garden born from the chairman’s ambitious desire for prestige, and the director managing the garden was staking his life on appearing favorable in the chairman’s eyes.

And the lives of the principal and vice-principal depended on the director.

Such is the hardship of working life.

The principal and vice-principal looked at each other and simultaneously sighed.

“Sigh… Tsk.”

“Ah…”

And as always, the sorrow of being a middle manager wasn’t just about being pressed down from above but also being poked from below.

The door to the principal’s office burst open, and an aged teacher in charge of the literature department barged in without hesitation to confront them.

“Teachers! When is Author Moon coming?”

“Ah, please stop nagging! Park~nim!”

The untidy white hair of the old teacher made him look more like a mad scientist than a teacher. And except for the fact that he wasn’t from the science department but the literature department, he was indeed mad.

“Seriously, neither Gu Hak-jun nor anyone gives a straight answer. Is he coming to our school or not?”

The principal couldn’t possibly treat Professor Gu Hak-jun, a senior ist who couldn’t just be referred to as “Gu Hak-jun”, as a mere contract adjunct teacher.

With a sigh, yet maintaining respect, the principal explained.

“Park~nim. We’re doing our best, so please, wait calmly. And stop coming to the principal’s office every day…”

“If we can’t bring Moon In-seop here, I’ll just resign and go to England or something. Teaching at this school hasn’t been fun since Gu Yubin graduated.”

“Ah, so please-”

Park~nim said his piece and just left.

“Ah.”

The principal stared blankly at the door of the principal’s office that had just closed.

The vice-principal patted his shoulder with a sorrowful expression.

In such a situation, there wasn’t any special reason for immediately passing Moon In-seop as soon as his application came in.

* * *

Child actor Kim Byul. 16 years old.

She is a junior at Baekhak Arts Middle School’s acting department.

Her school life is rather bland.

Why is the school life of a student, who should be enjoying her youth, bland? Obviously, because she has no friends.

After a long time, Kim Byul sat in her school uniform, surrounded by strange glances and whispers.

“Why is she at school today…”

“Must be no schedule.”

“She’s pretty though…”

“Should I confess?”

“Nonsense.”

The school life of active celebrities is tough.

There are various reasons.

Their broadcast image extends to personal life, causing discomfort, and it’s hard to establish a horizontal relationship with friends who dream of becoming celebrities themselves.

Envy and jealousy come as a bonus. Neither are good feelings for making friendships. Admiration is the furthest emotion from understanding…

For a simple example, if you host a music show and act silly, all your classmates see it. Then, at school, they imitate it in front of you.

If you cry in a drama, school friends mimic that crying to tease you. Accepting the teasing makes you a pushover, and not accepting it makes you seem rude.

Of course, minors who work are in a more advantageous position compared to other kids. If they really set their minds to it and spend money, they can become the queen of the school.

But what’s the point of that? If she wastes her mental energy on school life instead of focusing on her career, who will take care of it? Her ancestors?

Thus, Kim Byul, despite always being able to make friends, chose not to spend effort on school life, focusing instead on her acting career through selection and concentration.

That was her self-justification for not having friends.

“Oh! Byul is at school today?”

As usual, the teacher entering the class mentioned Kim Byul, pretending to be close. Kim Byul internally cursed but greeted with a pleasant smile.

“I really enjoyed your drama last week. You’re the lead in a movie now, right? How about we all give Byul a round of applause?”

Please don’t.

“Alright! Applause!”

Unwanted applause poured in. A few classmates, aware of Kim Byul’s discomfort, jeered at her, adding cheers to the mockery.

In the teacher’s view, this was an attempt to get closer to Kim Byul.

Teachers at private schools aren’t civil servants, and adjunct teachers in the acting department are active actors. And though Kim Byul’s popularity has waned, she’s still more popular than the teacher.

This context created a situation that satisfied both the position of a ‘private school teacher’, whose contract extension depends on producing outstanding students, and the position of an ‘industry senior’, who gains face by having outstanding juniors.

Therefore, for the acting department teachers, it was inevitable to favor Kim Byul.

Naturally, this favoritism only alienated Kim Byul from her peers.

‘I want to quit school.’

For these reasons, Kim Byul wanted to quit both acting and school.

Such is the complex heart of a ninth-grader.

During break time.

While Kim Byul was simmering down, someone tapped her shoulder.

Having been harassed by a stalker before, Kim Byul detested sudden physical contact with anyone, so she glared at the bold individual who had touched her shoulder with a scowl.

“What?”

The bold one answered.

“Let’s talk for a sec, Kim Sunbae.”

A boy with a blanket draped over him stood there with a sullen face.

It was Author Moon.

Kim Byul was astonished.

Her expression dramatically changed due to her occupational habit.

“Why are you here?!”

“I wanted to ask the sunbae something.”

“…Why am I your sunbae?”

“Don’t you see I’m wearing a uniform? Anyway, I got scheduled for a variety show the day after tomorrow. They said it’s for promoting Cause of Death*****. I have something I want to ask, so come to the canteen.”

“Uh… Uh? Uhh… Uh…”

“Quickly.”

Kim Byul, stuttering, was dragged away by Moon In-seop.

Their classmates watched the scene with eyes wide open.

It was a day when the summer sun shone over the schoolyard.

* * *

A new student was admitted to the first year of the literature department at Baekhak Arts Middle School.

****

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