“When will this finally end...”
December had arrived, and with it, an unusually early end-of-term ceremony.
Technically, the school was combining the closing ceremony and the start of winter break, but in practice, nothing changed.
Our homeroom teacher was still Teacher Lee Ah-Reum, and Hong Ye-Hwa was still in the same class as me.
At Sa-Jong Arts High, meritocracy reigned supreme.
Students with high grades moved up to Class 1 or 2, while those who couldn’t keep up were sent down.
It was brutal, but in this field, only the talented survive.
Ha Soo-Yul, Choi Ye-Seo, and everyone in our circle—including myself—remained in Class 1, just like our first year.
“Originally, this would’ve been the year Lee Do-Yoon started shining...”
But thanks to my presence, he’d ended up diving into the entertainment industry earlier than planned.
Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, but if he kept this up, wouldn’t he miss his attendance requirements and have to repeat the year?
Fortunately, he scraped by during our first year, but the second year would only get busier. It was a bit concerning.
This system applied to every department, not just ours.
First-year students focused on developing their skills and theoretical knowledge. By second year, the emphasis shifted to practical training.
And the third year? That was treated like a college graduation project.
Sa-Jong Arts High wasn’t famous for nothing. Its rigorous program produced exceptional talent, making it highly sought after.
Still, I wasn’t too worried. I had spent my first year mostly napping at school, and I doubted much would change in my second year.
"And finally—"
How many times had the principal said “finally”?
It had been two hours since we entered the auditorium. Couldn’t he just wrap it up already? I had plans today.
Another ten minutes passed before the principal finally left the stage.
But just as he stepped down, the vice principal took his place at the podium.
“Oh, please no.”
I could feel the collective groan of the students, even if no one said a word.
.
.
“Wow... what a marathon of a closing ceremony.”
Choi Ye-Seo, now utterly resigned, let out a hollow laugh.
Her expression screamed exhaustion as she leaned against Ha Soo-Yul.
"Soo-Yul, I’m so tired..."
"I’m more tired because of you," Soo-Yul replied, rejecting her theatrics with a stone wall of indifference.
She turned to me and asked, "Where’s Ye-Hwa? She said she’d come with us."
"Oh, she said she couldn’t make it. Something came up. She asked me to let you know, but I forgot until now."
After the ceremony, Teacher Lee Ah-Reum and Hong Ye-Hwa had gone off somewhere to take care of some business. They seemed to be preparing something together.
Hearing this, both Ye-Seo and Soo-Yul clicked their tongues in disappointment.
"Aww, guess we’ll have to meet up another time?"
Ye-Seo scratched her cheek, looking a little let down.
But everyone who could join us was already here—me, my sister Yoon, Soo-Yul, Ye-Seo, Lee Do-Yoon, and Baek Yoo-Seol.
We had planned this get-together to celebrate finishing our first year.
It had taken a lot of schedule shuffling to make it happen.
For people like me, Do-Yoon, and Ye-Seo—already active in the professional world—it was a rare opportunity.
Even Yoo-Seol was busy preparing for a competition, so rescheduling would be almost impossible.
"Well, for today, let’s just enjoy ourselves," I said.
I’d make it up to Ye-Hwa later. Maybe I’d treat her to a meal sometime soon.
After sending her a quick message, I reassured the others.
"I’ve let Ye-Hwa know, so don’t worry about it."
The group visibly relaxed and began chatting among themselves.
"Yoon-ah, what perfume do you use?"
"Me? I don’t use any."
"What? But you’re an idol?"
"Not every idol wears perfume!"
Yoon, Ye-Seo, and Soo-Yul formed their own lively subgroup.
Meanwhile...
"Do-Yoon, are you free this weekend?"
"This weekend? Hmm, I’d have to check my schedule..."
Do-Yoon and Yoo-Seol were in their own little world, practically radiating couple vibes.
“Should I just throw them out?”
I chuckled to myself as I followed the group.
Though Ye-Hwa wasn’t here, it felt like the old days when we used to gather like this.
It had been nearly two years since we’d all hung out together.
Walking behind them, I glanced up at the sky. The clouds were gray, signaling the peak of winter.
Everyone was bundled up in long padded coats.
“Those coats will fall out of fashion someday. What a spoiler to give myself.”
The others were too engrossed in their conversations to notice I was lagging behind.
I let out a small yawn, blinking slowly as I adjusted my pace.
And then, I felt it.
"Hey, it’s snowing."
A cold flake landed on my nose, prompting me to look up. Snow was falling gently from the sky.
It reminded me of Hollow Snow. I’d have to visit it again sometime.
Pointless thoughts, fleeting moments of no consequence.
But the value of such moments? That was for me to decide.
Even this trivial time was precious to me.
I realized then that I was smiling.
For some reason, I felt good.
***
The end of winter. Mid-February.
I had turned eighteen, adding another year to my life.
For the first time, I wondered if this was what aging felt like—my body didn’t move the way it used to.
"Are you saying that for my benefit?"
"Of course not, no way."
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Busted.
Teacher Lee Ah-Reum stopped sketching and shot me a sharp look before breaking into laughter.
"You’re still wet behind the ears."
"Ma’am, we’re only eight years apart."
"Eight years is plenty."
I wisely kept my mouth shut instead of commenting on her closing in on thirty. One wrong word, and I’d be enduring her teasing until the project ended.
Lying on the floor with my phone, I felt my mouth itch to make conversation.
"We’re almost at the finishing touches. Don’t you think you don’t really need me anymore? Why not call Ye-Hwa instead?"
"You never know what might happen. Always good to keep insurance nearby."
"By insurance, you mean me, right?"
"Who else? I trust my dear Ha-Eun more than anyone."
There’s a saying: people become more affectionate as they age.
Teacher Lee was proving to be a textbook example.
I shrugged off her words and fell into thought.
This year’s Prize submission would follow the same timeline as before: due at the end of March.
That left about a month and a half.
“The frame is done. The question is, what to fill it with: life or existence?”
If it were the former, Teacher Lee could handle it alone. But if it were the latter, we’d need Hong Ye-Hwa as well.
If the sole goal was winning the Prize, creating a masterpiece would suffice.
But...
"Ma’am, how about we try making a masterpiece this time?"
"...W-what?"
Teacher Lee froze mid-stroke, her eyes twitching as she looked at me in disbelief.
"I must’ve misheard you, right?"
"A masterpiece. Do you want to make one?"
She clutched her neck as if processing a shock. I tilted my head in curiosity.
"That’s absurd... How do you even make a masterpiece?"
"Here."
After all, I had created all seven masterpieces. Why wouldn’t I be able to do it again?
Of course, this body couldn’t manage it alone, so I’d need supporters.
I’d explained before that masterpieces involved layering. From 2D to 3D, even extending into 4D.
To the naked eye, it might just look like layers of paint, but in reality, an unseen world was being formed.
A world built with color.
Arrogant as it sounded, that’s how illusionary realms were born.
These worlds required a "master," and that master was human emotion.
“Plus, our paintings need seven people for completion.”
I could manage up to five on my own, but the remaining two were the issue.
That’s where Teacher Lee and Ye-Hwa came in.
Teacher Lee stared at me, dumbfounded.
"...It’s impossible. What you’re saying makes no sense."
"Come on, just tell me if you’re in or out."
"I mean... If it’s possible, I’ll help, but..."
Her nervous blinking was almost comical.
"Even for you, Ha-Eun, this is—"
"I’m the one who redid Seiren and Gumiho, remember? Didn’t we have this conversation already?"
"But fixing paintings and creating them from scratch are totally different!"
She had a point—anyone else would probably fail.
But the person she was talking to was me.
"So, you’re in?"
"...Fine, fine. But don’t blame me if it goes wrong."
"Why would it fail? Success is the only thing waiting for us."
I quickly scrolled through my contacts and called Hong Ye-Hwa.
A short while later, Ye-Hwa arrived at the studio, clutching her head in confusion.
"So, you’re saying... what exactly?"
"I’m thinking of making a masterpiece. Can I count on your help? No pressure if you don’t want to."
In truth, I was nervous. If she refused, I’d be out of options.
My plan heavily depended on her participation.
"Well... I’ll help. But can you explain the situation first?"
Right. I’d forgotten to do that.
Noticing her exasperated glare, I awkwardly averted my eyes and started explaining.
After an hour of breaking things down, she finally seemed convinced.
"The odds are slim, but I think it’s doable," she said, glancing at Teacher Lee with a reassuring expression.
Her confidence gave me a strange sense of security.
"Great. Let’s get started."
I took a seat in front of the painting Teacher Lee had been working on.
"There’s not much for you two to do right now. Just step in when I ask for your help."
The anticipation of creating a new masterpiece after so long made me feel giddy.
There wasn’t much left to adjust on the painting, but I planned to fine-tune it.
Teacher Lee had already given her consent.
Though it was a collaboration, most of the work was hers, so I always checked with her before making changes.
Holding my brush, I began layering colors onto the nearly completed painting.
Deepening some hues, softening others.
“Oh, right. I still need to visit the old school building. I’ll do it after the break ends.”
Daydreaming while painting was second nature to me.