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TL: KSD

After class ends, the brief respite that comes like a blessing in disguise.

Ten minutes.

It feels extraordinarily short, yet at the same time, there’s no other span of time that feels quite as long.

In those mere ten minutes, students manage to play ball games at the back of the classroom, sit in groups of five or six playing games, argue over the latest idol’s new song, finish all their overdue homework…

And yet, after making such efficient use of their time, the moment the bell rings again, they lament as if the world is ending, saying, “Is break time already over?”

Such is the daily life of ordinary students…

But Baekhak Arts Middle School is different.

Here, there are students who must add ‘sunbae-nim’ to the stage names of idols that others casually mention, and some find themselves paired with child actors they’ve seen on TV as their deskmates.

Various youth competitions are a battleground with no mercy given just because they’re kids, and some students are already at the crossroads of stepping into the professional world or falling behind.

In the cold, competitive world of the arts, talent is valued above effort.

Because that’s just how the world is.

Thus, like ordinary kids, playing ball games during break is not an option.

One must make an even greater, bone-crushing effort to overcome the innate gap of talent.

And so, the topic of discussion during break time for the Creative Writing Department students at Baekhak Arts Middle School was not about Kim Byul, who won Best Actress at Cannes, nor Eisaku Siedehara, who left behind a final masterpiece that shook Japan…

“Ah! So, where are we going, then?!”

…It was about the destination of their school trip.

EP 10 – Starry Sky

When you try to sit students down and teach them patiently, their first responses tend to be either “I don’t wanna, blehhh!” or “Classics are boring! Read my novel instead!” This is just the nature of this (hipster) field of study.

Thus, the Creative Writing Department at Baekhak Arts Middle School prioritizes student autonomy.

As a result, the homeroom teacher for the 3rd-year Creative Writing class left the decision of the school trip destination to the students.

-Decide on it through a class meeting by the end of this week!

That basically meant ‘go ahead and kill each other’.

Having already grown accustomed to the bloodbath of critique classes over the past two years, the students did not hesitate to pull out their metaphorical shurikens and hurl them at their peers. Even the Sichuan Tang family, known for pioneering the battle royale method of education, would have been impressed by the decisiveness and brutality on display.

“Obviously, the school trip has to be Gyeongju.”

“Gyeongju is too much! Does that Cheomseongdae observatory do anything to benefit us?”

“My mom is from Gyeongju…”

“So what?”

“Guys, how about Japan?”

“Osaka sounds great!”

“I was talking about Tokyo? Osaka is too loud-”

“What? Tokyo? Tokyo’s so pretentious-”

“……”

“……”

“How about we just go with London? London sounds safe.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re rich enough to casually suggest London. We all know that, so keep it down.”

“Fine, then. What about Taiwan?”

“What’s even in Taiwan?”

“Bubble tea, castella cakes, and Chiang Kai-shek.”

“Who’s Chiang Kai-shek?”

“Ah- stop this bullshit and let’s go to Jeju Island.”

“That’s only because you’re from Jeju-”

“What are you talking about? Jeju is a great place to live!”

“What’s in Jeju, anyway?”

“Tangerines, more tangerines, and braised boneless cutlassfish.”

“Suddenly, Jeju sounds tempting.”

“Hey, guys, listen. I wrote down the candidates on the board- Gyeongju, Tokyo, Osaka, England, Taiwan, Jeju Island… Is there anything else?”

“Wait! Class rep! Why are Tokyo and Osaka split under Japan?! This is election fraud!”

“Because you guys were arguing…”

“Fine. To win the election, we’ll form a united front.”

“O-okay. So Tokyo and Osaka will be combined as Japan… Any other suggestions?”

“Me. Türkiye.”

“Türki-what? Turkey? What’s even there?”

“Ice cream, Erdoğan, Constantinople.”

“O-Okay…”

Since it was a wealthy school, the range of possible destinations was vast. With the pandemic coming to an end, international travel restrictions were also lifting. Once the students started going wild, there was no stopping them.

In the past, students who wanted to attend a better arts high school than Baekhak Arts High School would have studied relentlessly, fostering a serious academic atmosphere. But those days are long gone.

An arts high school with a better Creative Writing Department than Baekhak?

They used to be everywhere. Until recently.

But those schools don’t have Moon In, do they? So, they’re trash.

We’re talking about professional level here.

The third-year students in the Creative Writing Department don’t even bother looking at other schools besides Baekhak Arts High School. They’re afraid of jinxing themselves.

As a result, “studying” and “school” have disappeared entirely from the forefront of these students’ minds.

What’s left, as expected, is pure chaos.

“Hey! You! We agreed on Japan!”

“If it’s Osaka, I’d rather go to Jeju Island.”

“Traitor! Betrayer!”

“Hey! This is election fraud!”

“Don’t vote for London, you fucking bastards! I don’t have money!”

“I will never give up on the city of longing, Constantinople!”

“Our soccer club refuses to recognize the election results. We’re going to detain the class rep and declare martial law.”

Amidst this madness, where the school trip destination was finally decided as Jeju Island through proper, democratic procedures (somehow),

there were two students having a completely different conversation, separate from the ruckus.

As expected, it was Moon In and Gu Yu-na.

“…Didn’t I tell you not to underline in books with a highlighter?”

“But this is more convenient.”

The two were now more suited to be called young man and young woman rather than ‘children’.

But whether then or now, they still throw themselves at books with the same life-or-death intensity.

As if they had made a secret pact, they both had the same book in front of them, laid out on their desks.

Moon In’s copy was neat, with a notebook placed beside it.

Gu Yu-na’s, on the other hand, was worn out from countless highlights and notes.

Still, it was clear neither of them had read this book casually.

It was Eisaku Siedehara’s final work, ‘Beautiful in Itself’.

And sitting across from each other with the book between them, the two writers reached the same conclusion.

“This is less of a novel and more of…”

“An autobiography.”

“Exactly. An autobiography.”

The protagonist of ‘Beautiful in Itself’ is named Eisaku.

His family name is Siedehara.

The novel begins with the birth of ‘Eisaku Siedehara’, a newborn baby, in Nakano Ward, Tokyo, written from an omniscient third-person perspective.

That detached, editorial tone persists until the very end of the novel.

In other words, Eisaku Siedehara captured his entire life in this book.

And he did so from a stern omniscient author’s perspective.

“In doing so, Eisaku Siedehara… lowered himself. From the creator of a literary world to a pitiful creature at the mercy of that creator.”

“I liked that, though.”

“Exactly.”

An autobiography polishes a person’s image. It shapes them into someone impressive, dignified, relatable, respectable, and lovable.

A novel, however, uses a person. It turns a character’s suffering and misery into a tool for the reader’s enjoyment.

And Eisaku Siedehara used himself in exactly that way.

From witnessing his parents’ most humiliating moments to his own awkward and comical first experience with self-gratification,

to far greater pains, moments that shattered his life, moments so humiliating they broke his humanity, he laid it all bare.

He mocked those personal shames to entertain the reader and turned his life’s deepest agonies into “trials” to smooth out the narrative flow.

He did so to present his life, every last bit of it, within the pages of a novel.

And such truthfulness shines through.

Because he captured life’s darkness as it was, the brilliance shines just as brightly.

The smile of a child walking hand-in-hand with their parents down a stone wall path on a rainy day.

The day a buzz-cut boy in a school uniform first held the hand of the girl he loved.

The magical moment when, after four years of dreaming, his wish to debut as an author finally came true.

The countless days of struggle, fighting the crashing waves of life alongside a friend.

And the tiny, wriggling fingers of… the child in his arms.

Eisaku Siedehara succeeded in capturing the brilliance of life in his novel. It was truly a feat befitting the final accomplishment of a great literary master and a compilation worthy of marking the end of the man named Eisaku Siedehara.

And he gave this title to his life.

‘Beautiful in Itself….’

Life Is Beautiful.

It’s a powerful message.

The authenticity of life becomes the strongest literary weapon of all.

“If we take one step further from here…”

“You’re going to talk about I-novels, right?”

“Exactly.”

A father who left behind an I-Novel as his final work before committing suicide.

A son, Eisaku Siedehara, who criticized that father and made a name for himself as a writer.

And now, the final novel this man left behind is…

“An I-Novel. How ironic, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think it’s an I-Novel, though.”

“…!”

Moon In glared at Gu Yu-na.

Gu Yu-na stared back at Moon In in silence.

But compared to Moon In’s glare, which carried aggression, Gu Yu-na’s gaze brimmed with unfiltered intensity, a kind of pure madness.

Moon In was the first to avert his eyes.

Gu Yu-na tilted her head slightly.

“Why do you think it’s an I-Novel?”

“Because it’s a personal story, so it’s an I-Novel.”

“Well, that’s something we can’t be sure about. What if Eisaku Siedehara lied?”

“What…!”

Without hesitation, Gu Yu-na turned the deceased into a liar and proceeded to present her next argument.

“Human memory isn’t perfect. How can anyone think that a memory from decades ago, recalled by an elderly man right before his death, could be close to the truth?”

“……”

“And even if it is the truth, what reason do we have to trust it? What proof do we have that the real-life Eisaku Siedehara and the character named Eisaku Siedehara in the novel are the same person? Aside from the name, there’s nothing. In that case, this is pure fiction.”

But in Moon In’s view, it was an I-Novel.

Other prominent literary critics would likely share his opinion.

In situations like this, Gu Yu-na’s stance would usually be dismissed with comments like, ‘Stop playing word games and just focus on studying’.

But Moon In was different.

“You might have a point.”

“…Really?”

Moon In nodded with a faint smile.

Gu Yu-na only revealed her brilliance to those who recognized her for it.

“……Above all, Eisaku Siedehara never once claimed in this book that it was his own story. He was fully focused on reshaping his life into a novel. So instead of dragging the discussion into I-Novel territory outside the text, isn’t it better to just enjoy the story and find happiness, as the author intended? That’s the right way to read it.”

Gu Yu-na hugged the book tightly and spun around, as if to say no counterarguments would be allowed.

Moon In watched her with a pleased smile.

“That’s a very meaningful perspective.”

“…I always say meaningful things.”

“Respecting the author’s intention is important too. I’m sure Siedehara-sensei would’ve been thrilled to hear what you said.”

“Do you think so?”

Gu Yu-na perked up, Moon In smiled, and…

“Haa…”

A student sitting in the front row, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation, let out a deep sigh.

He envied how Moon In spoke about Eisaku Siedehara as if he were a personal acquaintance rather than a historical figure.

In moments like this, he wanted nothing more than to jump into their conversation and bombard them with questions. But Moon In had a subtle way of keeping others at arm’s length, and Gu Yu-na was, well, Gu Yu-na.

These two were as hard to approach as ever—prickly and unyielding geniuses.

But while it might be difficult to become friends with masters, if you listen carefully to their debates and absorb their insights, your own skills are bound to improve naturally.

“Hm…!”

The student sitting in the front row, lying on their desk, perked up their ears attentively.

Thanks to that, they were able to catch Gu Yu-na’s next words loud and clear.

“It feels nice talking with you like this after so long.”

“…!”

“…!”

“…!”

Moon In was shocked, the student in the front row was shocked, and even Park Chang-woon, who had just entered through the classroom door, was shocked.

A bombshell of a statement that no one could believe had come out of Gu Yu-na’s mouth!

And the source of this outrageous turn of events was, of course, none other than Min Hyo-min, an idol who had been driven to madness after being banned from dating during her hormonal teenage years.

Her first piece of advice: Tell him you enjoy spending time with him!

For the record, this advice was ripped straight from the lyrics of a love song Min Hyo-min had practiced for 12 hours a day.

This is what happens when you bind a love-starved teenage girl to a contract and force her to rehearse love songs for 12 hours a day—she becomes a monster like this.

So, if I say that, Moon In will listen to me better, right?

Of course! Trust the words of a professional like me!

Following Min Hyo-min’s advice, Gu Yu-na delivered a carefully crafted opening line designed to make the other person more receptive to requests. And then, she got straight to the point.

Gu Yu-na pulled out a thick stack of manuscript paper from her bag and said,

“So, I’ve been working on a novel lately, and I was wondering if you could help-”

“Well, I need to step out for a moment.”

But Moon In, face turning pale, simply ran away.

The 𝘮ost uptodat𝑒 novels are pub𝙡ished on freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

Left alone, Gu Yu-na hugged the manuscript bundle and tilted her head with a puzzled expression.

“…?”

While everyone around stared at her with shocked expressions,

Gu Yu-na naturally tossed the manuscript bundle onto the desk and went to chase after the fleeing Moon In.

On the bundle of papers left on the desk with a thud, there was a title written in crooked handwriting.

“The Starry Sky.”

*****

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