Late in the evening, the office of the International Content Planning Division 2 at Seito Publishing was as bright as daytime.
Ito and the members of Division 2, who had just returned from eating boxed meals outside, were smoking in the company’s smoking room.
The team was chattering about one particular topic none other than the genius girl they had discussed earlier in the day with Team Leader Ito.
“Ah… That little kid is the genius Hana-chan? I can’t believe it… Are you saying she’s the one who created The Sanctuary of Saint Chris, the project that influenced ours?”
“I honestly thought the team leader had scouted some new idol trainee or something. When I saw her pass by, her bright, sparkling eyes immediately caught my attention.”
“With looks like hers, she could aim for the center position, not just be a trainee.”
“Come on, the idol market is so saturated these days. If pretty faces alone could make someone an idol, they’d have debuted entire groups of good-looking kids by now.”
“No, no. With Hana-chan’s level of beauty, she’d be more than enough. These days, the idol strategy is to put one visually stunning girl as the face of the group while leaving the dancing and performances to the others.”
“Well, she does have the kind of face that otakus would go crazy for… Honestly, I wish Hana-chan would quit art and become an actress so she could release tons of merchandise. I’d buy all of it, no questions asked.”
“Hm? Hana-chan is Korean, isn’t she?”
“So what? A beautiful girl transcends nationality.”
As the absurd conversation dragged on, Ito cut it off with a single remark.
“That kid is technically still elementary school-aged. Even if you’re otakus, have some shame. And for the record, don’t ever let this kind of talk slip out in front of any talents we bring to our team.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
With awkward expressions, the team members took long drags from their cigarettes before muttering, “We’ll get back to work,” and left the smoking room.
Ito didn’t bother following them. He knew they’d spend the next few minutes badmouthing him behind his back. After all, he’d done the same in the past.
“…Sigh.”
“Senior.”
“!”
A woman’s voice broke through his thoughts.
Ito turned around to see Tachibana, a junior from his university days and now a colleague, entering the smoking room with a playful demeanor.
“Tachibana, are you working overtime too?”
“Guess that’s the fate of those who end up at black companies.”
“Fair enough…”
Of course, Ito’s situation being scrutinized by the company due to an uncertain project differed from Tachibana’s, who was actively involved in international events. But neither of them felt the need to bring it up.
Tachibana reached for her cigarette, only to realize she’d forgotten her lighter.
“Ah, darn…”
“Here, use mine.”
“Thanks, senior.”
“…”
“…So, what did you think of her? When I toured with her, she just seemed like a calm, adorable elementary school kid.”
Ito immediately understood who she was referring to. After all, only one person had visited today.
“…”
Ito had initially thought he’d be satisfied if he could simply glean some optimistic expectations and imagination from the young girl.
But what she had delivered were solid consultations that could rival those of seasoned media professionals.
– “What’s important isn’t the graphics, but the emotional mechanism that makes viewers feel they’re connecting with someone. Instead of enhancing the graphics, focus on being true to the actor’s emotions in real time…”
– “It doesn’t need to be some grand campaign or theme. It’s better to start with topics that resonate with people who love games and manga. For example…”
After summarizing the suggestions, Ito suddenly asked Go Hana a question.
– “You’re a genius artist, so why did you study communication through media?”
The girl gave a wry smile and answered.
– “Who knows? I’m just an ordinary person. Like everyone else, I just stumble forward awkwardly, using what I know as my shield.”
After collecting his thoughts, Ito murmured almost to himself.
“…She’s a genius.”
“Huh? Really? Honestly, when you insisted on meeting Hana-chan, I was worried you’d turned into an otaku…”
“What are you even worried about?”
“Anyway, what made you think she’s a genius?”
“…”
Ito recalled the girl he had met earlier that day. She was cute enough that even his team of otaku coworkers couldn’t stop raving about her. Her fluency in English had also left a strong impression.
But…
‘Ordinary, my foot. She claims to be ordinary, yet she understands media reactions that even industry veterans can’t predict. She frames the zeitgeist and manipulates it as she pleases.’
“She had a completely different way of looking at the world. It felt like she knew what would happen 10 years from now.”
“Different perspective?”
“Her understanding of media, society, and the platforms to come was extraordinary. Not like the old-fashioned folks who still believe newspapers and TV will forever be the world’s most dominant mass media.”
“Wait, that much?”
“It felt like looking at a compass pointing toward the future. She helped us identify a direction for our project—something we’d been floundering to figure out with just an internet campaign to promote a manga. Thanks to her, I think we can save a significant part of the budget.”
“…Huh. That’s unexpected.”
“Yeah, she wasn’t just some girl artificially propped up by mass media. She’s genuinely a genius. It’s hard to believe she’s just an elementary school kid.”
“No, I meant you, senior.”
“?”
Tachibana chuckled mischievously.
“Ever since you recklessly tried to change the project and got into a huge fight with the company execs, it’s like you’ve reverted to your college club days. Remember back then, when those alumni tried to make me pour their drinks, and you got into a big argument with them?”
“….”
“Your eyes are burning with passion again. It’s kind of cool, you know? Like a prince fighting to give a second chance to a disheartened princess. Very knightly.”
“…Shut up.”
Leaving the smoking area behind, Tachibana and Ito returned to the company building. The Tokyo nightscape they left behind sparkled like a field of stars.
*
Mari: “So HAHA, on the last day HAHA, are you going to a museum? HAHA”
Hana: “Yeah, it’s an exhibition of Impressionist artists. It’s one that Professor Ahn Soo-young recommended, so I’m looking forward to it.”
Mari: “I see HAHA. Wow HAHA, sounds like such a packed schedule HAHA.”
Hana: “Yeah, I didn’t expect to be running around non-stop for an entire week like this. Thanks to that, Uncle Palgon and his group even had to see us off. They really went out of their way.”
Mari: “One day HAHA, I want it to be just you and meHAHA traveling like that HAHA.”
Hana: “Sure, let’s do it.”
Mari: “Wow HAHA, I’m so excited HAHA!”
Hana: “Mari, by the way, why do you always put ‘HAHA’ at the end of your sentences?”
Mari: “Juri told me HAHA that just sending plain text messages can seem HAHA too stiff, so adding ‘HAHA’ makes them look softer and more friendly HAHA.”
Hana: “I see… Anyway, you said you’ve been swamped since the art fair?”
Mari: “Yeah! My grandpa’s company’s expansion into Europe? Some broadcast covered my exhibition, so now they’re saying I might have to go to the U.S. for another show… Reporters keep coming to the school studio, so I’m basically hiding… and I’m super busy.”
Hana: “Those people sound relentless. Hang in there.”
Mari: “You too, Hana. Good luck with your exchange exhibition next week♡ HAHA.”
*
I was looking at my phone in the vehicle heading toward the final field trip destination. However, when I recalled what Mari had mentioned last, I was struck by a sense of unease.
“…”
I had heard that the HU Group, which had expanded its health beverage business to Europe and China, was doing so well that a documentary was even made about its success story.
‘That documentary didn’t exist in my past life… did it?’
Once again, I realized something.
The growth of Mari’s family company—the HU Group—was extraordinary. In my previous life, I was certain that by 2006, due to a management crisis, their health beverage business had been discontinued, and “Vitamin 777” had disappeared into history.
‘But in this life, they’ve been expanding rapidly into Europe and China since the 2004 Olympics, haven’t they?’
As a result, the Hanul Foundation, which HU is involved in, had also increased its influence. It was more actively supporting student programs than I remembered.
Though ironically, Mari, who should’ve benefited from it, was too busy running away due to her social anxiety.
Anyway.
The starting point of all these changes.
No matter how I looked at it… I started to suspect it was all because of Mari’s life or death.
Since Mari survived, her father, Han Taejin, became more involved in managing the company. And thanks to that, the talented Manager Kang didn’t get caught up in that accident.
“…”
I swallowed hard.
Because I had once casually thrown a future economic issue at Manager Kang, feeling sorry about HU Pharmaceuticals’ downfall after 2006. I had genuinely hoped that my friend’s family would do well.
“Isn’t it a bit concerning how easy it is to get loans in the U.S.? House prices just keep rising—what happens if that bubble bursts?”
Though I had meant it lightly, he had taken it seriously… and if he really prepared for it because of that…
“…”
Tiny, young Hana-chan could only shiver before such a massive economic issue.
Recently, I had even used some prize money from a competition to buy a small amount of foreign stocks that had just become tradable.
‘Sniff…’
I didn’t know.
I didn’t do it thinking it would turn out this way…
I decided to stop dwelling on economic issues any further. Hastily, I focused on the messages Mari had sent me on my phone. They were filled with awkward phrasing.
‘Mari’s texts feel so un-MZ-like.’
Honestly, by today’s standards, she’d need to use emojis like “^^” or “OTL” to make it authentic. Thankfully, neither Mari nor Juri were frequent users of emojis.
‘Still, when I show these messages to her later, she’ll probably be horrified…’
I carefully saved every text Mari sent me in a storage folder. Along with them, I also saved pictures of Mija in her cringy middle school goth-loli costume and Juri in her tacky fashion choices.
‘…I’ll take them out in, say, 2016 and tease them mercilessly.’
Little by little, collecting these clumsy and rough memories from the 2000s had become my new hobby.
“…”
Memories, after all, are bound to fade and disappear someday.
That’s why I recorded these moments, warm like a miracle, so I could recall them vividly even if everything else faded someday.
…And, well, to have blackmail material for my friends too.
As I was fiddling with my phone, Mija turned to me with a bright smile and said,
“Hana-chan! We’re here!”
“!”
I turned my head, and before me was the final field trip destination an art museum.