Chapter 1.2 - As if Singing 2 (1/2)

There are those days in life, aren’t there.

Days when you’re very sick for no reason.

Seemingly just a light flu, suddenly ending up with the head heating up as if being grilled and the body becoming powerless without being able to do anything.

Having done nothing special the day before – not going out to cold places, not meeting anyone with the flu, and yet becoming sick – those unlucky days.

I had that happen once. During the 3rd year of middle school, right before entering high school.

Perhaps, it was due to being a day before admission, it was etched deeper into memory.

“Aigo… Who does this kid take after, that his body is so weak? Anyways Yunjae, I’ll leave the medicine here so you must take it regularly okay? Mum has to go out for work. Call me if it gets worse!”

The warmth patting my head vanished and the voice got softer.

What…? I couldn’t understand the situation.

While trying to knead the bits and pieces of thoughts together, I fell into sleep, unable to fight against the overflowing desire.

*

I had to repeat sleeping and getting up due to the boiling heat and the aching body.

The mindlessly flowing dreams merged here and there as the past reappeared like an illusion.

The young appearance of mother singing as a part of the choir. Me who grew up watching that, me who hummed with a childish appearance and me studying for the admission test. The family, happy with me passing the test, the store attendant preparing the uniform. Friends looking down, angry expressions of the teachers… and… the old faces of my parents.

Like bubbles, the painful school days surfaced and filled my brain.

Future Performing Arts High School.

I had been accepted into that school, where the best arts prodigies gathered, by luck.

Since I, who had no specs or nothing, had been picked into the male Opera department which only had 7 students, it was something worthy of being called fortunate.

In the year I applied for, there was a strange lack of applications for the Advanced Opera sector and since the school had to pick at least a certain number of students, they must’ve had to bite the bullet.

And finally, my skills were displayed in broad daylight, surrounded by condescending eyes.

I had no care for them.

Because I really loved music.

When I woke up with a start, I was on the bed.

Slowly turning my gaze, I could see the swaying curtains next to the windows, through which a faint scenery was displayed – a scenery of old apartments. The moonlight passed through the curtains, shedding subtle light onto furniture inside the room.

Lifting my arm, I placed my hand on my forehead and could tell that the fever had considerably reduced.

“…”

I struggled to raise my upper body, and the room entered the eyes. Clothes rolling around the room, a room I was not used to.

‘No, It feels like I’ve seen it somewhere before?’

With a frown, I thought for a bit, before deciding to search through the bed for my phone.

Here it was. A solid rectangle.

After somehow finding the phone, I lifted it and that was when I realised something was odd. Turning the phone upside down with trembling hands, the carved logo reflected the moonlight.

‘Galaxy S7’

“…”

There were too many problems.

First of all… the phone was extremely heavy. This heaviness couldn’t be explained by blaming it on the weakness of my body. And, lo and behold, there were buttons on the bottom side – pressable buttons, those mechanical ones!

Besides, even after bringing it close to my face, there were no signs of holograms coming out and the phone was too hard to fold.

Is it a phone from 20 years ago or something?

‘Wait, 20 years?’

With a sudden realisation, I opened the room door and staggered towards the toilet. The house was of an unfamiliar structure, yet my feet carried forth on its own.

The toilet… is probably this way.

And when I reached the front of the mirror…

There was a young version of me – about 20 years younger.

It wasn’t easy to understand the situation but it wasn’t hard either. After struggling and turning on the astonishingly old-fashioned phone, I checked the calendar and a few news, to reach a conclusion.

I had returned to the past. To 20 years ago, the spring of 2020, right before entering Future Arts High.

Why? For what reason?

No, instead of those minor issues, there was something more important.

Closing my mouth and looking forward, it reflected a young man – a young man with short hair, average height, long neck and a feeble body.

Hmm… No matter how I saw it, it wasn’t enough to bring out enough volume.

After scrutinising my body like scanning through a tool, I slowly opened my mouth. Through the white teeth and the red mouth, the uvula and the velum on top could be seen.

The uvula lightly vibrated when I made a small sound.

“Ah ah ah ah ah -”

As a habit, I started scaling.

From C3 to C4.

Do re mi fa so la ti do.

When I softly raised the pitch, it somehow went up albeit barely. Let’s try a little higher.

“Ah–…”

Re mi.

The pitch that barely reached 2 Octave E, was torn apart like being crushed as it approached F.

A pitch break. Out of tone.

My face naturally crumbled.

Me who had worked for 20 years as an opera singer, had been crushed at a mere F4. A tone easy for even the amateurs who prided and called themselves karaoke experts – that F4. It was only then that I truly realised that I had returned to the past.

As I carefully controlled the vocalisation muscles while frowning, the results remained the same.