Chapter 55: I Am There. – (3)

The moment my presentation ended, class wasn’t dismissed.

….It wasn’t quite that kind of atmosphere. 

Takashima stepped up to the stage as if switching places with me and smoothly continued with his lecture.

Naturally, I took a seat in the front row of the audience, where Takashima had been sitting earlier.

Takashima grabbed the microphone and spoke warmly. The interpreter who had just been translating my words into English now translated his.

“That was an excellent presentation. Before we dive into today’s lecture, let’s give another round of enthusiastic applause for Ms. Go Hana, who delivered such a wonderful talk.”

At his words, the audience erupted in applause once more.  

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap!  

The Japanese attendees clapped quietly and dutifully, almost robotically, as if following instructions to the letter.  

‘Is this just how they are? I was worried I might’ve made a mistake since no one said anything after my presentation.’

-Whooo-!  

-Cute!  

-Definitely a genius writer!  

In contrast, the international workshop participants cheered loudly and threw out compliments in English. They were bold and expressive, clearly unreserved.  

“!”  

‘Oh no! If I just sit here, when I get back to Korea, I’ll probably see headlines like, “Arrogant Korean kid snubs applause overseas…” plastered across the internet.’  

At the time, tensions between Asian countries were on the rise. The last thing I wanted was to be criticized in the news and become a target for malicious comments.  

‘Plenty of writers have ruined their careers because of one wrong move abroad…’  

Hurriedly, I stood up and bowed politely to the audience.

The Japanese attendees, who had been rather expressionless, softened their expressions and murmured softly, their lips curling into faint smiles.  

“—”  

“—!”  

“—.”  

Of course, it was all in Japanese, so I couldn’t understand a word. All I could do was smile awkwardly and bob my head like a chicken pecking at feed, hoping it was all praise.  

‘They’re smiling while talking, so it must be compliments, right? Ugh, I wish I’d sat next to Mija. I panicked and sat down too quickly, and now I’m surrounded by Japanese people.’  

Once the atmosphere settled down, Takashima began the lecture, displaying his prepared presentation slides.  

“The topic of today’s lecture is ‘The Convergence of Media and Asian Culture.’ In modern society, media serves as a new means of communication for humans…”  

The mood quickly grew calm. After all, everyone here had come not just for my presentation but also for Takashima’s special lecture.  

‘It would’ve looked bad if people left right after my presentation anyway.’  

Faculty, students, and workshop participants all understood this, so they stayed seated and attentively listened. Of course, the external guests—those from gaming companies and publishing houses—weren’t bound by such considerations and exited quickly.  

A noticeable number of people noisily left the lecture hall.  

Perhaps anticipating this, Takashima didn’t seem fazed and continued speaking smoothly.  

“…This is akin to what Ms. Go Hana just presented—the moment humans communicate through media, they discover another ‘self’ within this reality…”  

“…”  

“…Moreover, this spiritual aspect can be seen as an extension of the exploration of the ‘true world’ that permeates Asian culture. F

or example, if one were to paint a portrait of Ms. Go Hana, it wouldn’t depict her current appearance but rather her kindhearted essence, manifested as the persona of Saint Chris…”  

“…”  

Throughout the lecture, Takashima continually used me as an example, inadvertently directing everyone’s attention my way. As a result, I spent the entire session with my ears burning from the relentless focus.  

‘P-please…! I’m begging you, sensei, stop…!’  

Noticing my desperate gaze, Takashima nodded slightly, acknowledging it.  

“Thus, Sanctuary of Saint Chris isn’t merely the materialization of subculture but a concrete example of a new form of communication that could exist in this world. It reflects the evolving dynamics of a society increasingly shaped by the internet…”  

Takashima used ‘Spotlight Beam’!  

Everyone’s attention turned to me once again!  

‘Aaaaah—!’  

Go Hana’s vision went dark.  

*

Thus, the three-hour morning session finally came to an end. 

Before Takashima left, he approached me multiple times to offer words of encouragement.  

“You did a truly wonderful presentation! I’m sure many people were inspired by what they heard today!”  

“T-thank you.”  

Because of this, I ended up leaving much later than the workshop participants. To make matters worse, a group of suited individuals stopped me. They smiled and calmly said something, but…I couldn’t understand a word.  

‘They look older, and since everyone around them was bowing at a 90-degree angle, they must be important people, right…?’  

“—.”  

“—?”  

“—.”  

I didn’t have the nerve to ignore these VIPs (who introduced themselves in Japanese, which I couldn’t understand). So, I kept bowing repeatedly while mumbling, “Thank you, thank you.”  

‘Please…please realize I don’t speak Japanese…!’  

It seemed they caught on to my random “thank yous,” as they didn’t press further and simply waved goodbye with a smile.  

‘Why are they smiling like that? Did I come across as a clueless country bumpkin?’  

I felt a lingering sense of awkwardness but had no choice but to turn away and head toward Mija. It was lunchtime, and I wanted to gather everyone—Palgon and Geonwoo included for a meal.  

For a few minutes, I wandered through the crowd, feeling like my head was spinning. Everywhere I turned, it was Japanese, Japanese, Japanese… Even the signs looked just different enough to make me uneasy.  

‘This really drives home that I’m in a foreign country.’  

Just as I was about to exit the hall, I finally spotted my group.  

“!”  

Mija, Kim Palgon, and Yoo Geonwoo were standing together in front of the lecture hall. The sight of their familiar faces filled me with a sudden rush of relief and joy.  

‘Damn…! Why does seeing Koreans abroad make me want to cry…?’  

Like a person possessed, I walked straight toward them. As I got closer, I could hear their conversation. It seemed Mija was recounting my presentation to Palgon and Geonwoo.  

“So, when Hana-chan asked, ‘Do you truly exist in this reality?’ everyone turned into speechless, slack-jawed zombies…!”  

“How long are you going to keep bringing that up, Mi-chan?”

“Uncle Palgon, don’t you know how amazing this is?” Mijang exclaimed to her brother.  

Kim Palgon scratched his cheek awkwardly, much like a gorilla.  

“Well… even if you say that, I don’t know much about art.”  

“See, Mijang!”  

“Ugh! You’re always like that, oppa!”  

As Mijang looked ready to pounce on Yoo Gun-woo, I stepped in and spread my arms wide to greet her.  

“Mijang-ah!”  

“Hana-chan?”  

Mijang tilted her head as she looked at me.  

“Mijang-ah..! I’ve missed you! Why were you so far away? Everyone here is Japanese, and it was scary! Being alone in Japan is just too harsh…!”  

Mijang gave me a look as if she completely understood my feelings. Then, she spread her arms and hugged me tightly.  

“H-Hana-chan! I wanted to sit with you too, but this girl with glasses kept talking to me in English, and it was terrifying…!”  

“Oh, my dear friend Mijang! We even worry about the same things!”  

“Hana-chan!”  

We started jumping up and down in joy together. Yoo Gun-woo waited patiently for us to calm down and then pulled out a map.  

“Hana Go, the lunch break is until 2 p.m., right?”  

“Yes, that’s right.”  

“There’s a ramen shop nearby that serves delicious food. If we leave now, we’ll have time to grab some dessert on the way back.”  

“Don’t good restaurants usually have long waits?”  

“This is a hidden spot only known among people studying here, not tourists.”  

“Then, we’ll rely on you again.”  

“Of course.”  

We set out to have lunch. Passing Tokyo University of the Arts, we arrived at a hidden gem tucked away in a side alley of Ueno. The exterior looked old, but inside, it was remarkably clean.  

‘If I were just a random tourist, I’d probably be too intimidated by the worn-out façade to walk in.’  

The ramen, prepared by a white-bearded chef, was delicious. The broth was rich and reminiscent of Korean pork soup, paired perfectly with the thin noodles.  

After lunch, we spent the remaining time strolling around, enjoying desserts and shopping.

The Ueno area, where the Tokyo University of the Arts is located, was filled with art supply stores.

Many items not yet available or sold in Korea caught our attention. Browsing through them, time flew by, and the lunch break was almost over.  

“Ugh, hehe… If I have just this brand of pens, I can reach the pinnacle of art mastery…!”  

“Mijang, we should probably head back now.”  

“What?! Already?! Oh no, I bought so much that I was planning to drop it off at the lodging…”  

“Don’t worry about it, little lady. This uncle will take care of it for you.”  

“I’m sorry for all the trouble my sister’s causing…”  

“No, no! The squad leader has his role, and a man like Kim Palgon is just doing what he should! Haha!”  

“Thank you, uncle!”  

“Uncle Palgon, we’ll head back now.”  

“Sure! Both of you, study hard!”  

“We’ll be at the lodging for now, so let us know when you’re done. We’ll come to see you off.”  

With that, we returned to Tokyo University of the Arts. Having Yoo Gun-woo to translate and Kim Palgon to help with heavy lifting made everything so much easier.

*

The auditorium again  

From now on, we had to participate in joint classes. These were collaborative lessons where we worked with various students to complete simple art assignments.  

But that’s where the problem arose.  

What kind of problem, you ask?  

“Hey! Get lost! I got to this table first!!”  

“What are you talking about?! I’m the one who came here first!!”  

“Hana, don’t you want to join our table instead?”  

“And who are you?! Hana’s going to take the class with us!!”  

“Boohoo! Hana-chan!”  

“…”  

The class involved sitting together in groups, but everyone swarmed over to my table, insisting they wanted to be in my group.  

‘Wait, don’t you all already have your own groups…?’  

I couldn’t understand why it suddenly turned into a “first come, first served” chaos. Thanks to this, my original group members were staring at me with incredulous expressions.  

“…”  

‘Even if you look at me like that, this wasn’t my doing…’  

At that moment, the facilitator fortunately stepped in to restore order.  

– “Workshop participants! Please remain in your originally assigned groups. Changing group members on your own might disrupt the class content!”  

The students from various countries who had crowded around reluctantly backed off, clicking their tongues in disappointment.  

“Whew…”  

“Well, it can’t be helped.”  

“Too bad.”  

“…”  

Peace returned in an instant.  

In the calm, my original group members—Chai and Goto—looked at me with more intense interest than on the first day.  

“That’s amazing! What just happened? Taking a class with a genius creator is incredible!”  

“Genius creator? That’s not true.”  

“R-Really…?”  

Chai scratched the back of his head awkwardly, while Goto sighed at his reaction.  

Then, from a distance, the facilitator announced loudly:  

– “Each group, please select a group leader! The group leader will play a crucial role in setting the goals and themes for the upcoming assignments!”  

“!”  

“!”  

“!”  

“!”  

“!”  

Immediately, all eyes in my group Mija, Goto, Chai, the short-haired girl, and the glasses-wearing boy turned toward me.  

They all spoke as if it were the most obvious thing.  

“There’s only one choice.”  

“…That’s true.”  

“Of course.”  

“There’s no doubt.”  

Mija, replying to Goto’s unconscious use of Japanese, responded in Japanese herself:  

“Right. It has to be Hana-chan.”  

“Eh…?!”  

“?”  

“Y-You can speak Japanese…?”  

“Uh, yeah…”  

I sighed as I looked at them.  

‘Why are you all doing this to me…?’