Chapter 84:Meaning of the Name – (1)

As the chilly early winter air nipped at my ears, I sat with the staff inside the Ministry of Culture and Tourism, listening to their explanation.  

“….”  

The matter was simple.  

– For next year’s Venice Biennale, we have chosen artist Go Hana as the sole representative for the Korean Pavilion. Do you have any thoughts on this decision…?  

“…”  

The Venice Biennale.  

The name didn’t feel real to me.  

The world’s greatest art exhibition.  

The world’s greatest artists.  

The world’s greatest this and that…  

No matter how many grand words you attached to it, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration. It was, without a doubt, the exhibition where the world’s most renowned contemporary artists were invited.  

And now, I was going there.  

‘Even if it’s not an exhibition in the main pavilion, this is practically an acknowledgment that I’m Korea’s representative artist.’  

“…”  

Honestly, at this point, hesitation was meaningless.  

I had already come too far, running at full speed down this endless road.  

And I still wanted to keep running. I wanted to push forward and see how far I could go.  

Connections.  

Honor.  

Fame.  

None of that really mattered anymore.  

What was already in my hands was overwhelming enough.  

But…  

‘I just want to do it.’  

“…”  

So, I accepted.  

“…I’ll do it.”  

“!”  

The people around me smiled, their eyes filled with anticipation. The gathered journalists clicked their camera shutters, sending out urgent news flashes.  

They said ‘our genius’ would once again make waves abroad…  

“…”  

But their attention didn’t feel heavy on my shoulders.  

‘…That kind of nationalistic performance is just burdensome.’  

And since I had only ever taken what I felt I deserved from them, I didn’t feel any obligation to meet their expectations.  

I was just curious—curious to see how far I could go.  

Was I just a fake genius, merely mimicking knowledge from the future?  

And if this so-called fake could even fool the greatest art exhibition in the world would I still have to consider myself an impostor?  

What even defines real and fake?  

What even defines genius?  

Questions like that.  

“…”  

…I didn’t know the answer.  

All I knew was, I wanted to go.

*

Above Uncle’s auto repair shop,  

I lay there absentmindedly, watching TV. It had been a while since I’d lounged around in my torn thermal underwear. The TV kept broadcasting news about my participation in the Biennale.  

– Nationwide, children’s art academy enrollments have surged nearly sixfold…  

– Applicants for Hanul Art School have doubled compared to last year…  

– Korea is currently in the grip of ‘Hana Fever.’ Unless someone is an absolute genius or prodigy, people aren’t satisfied anymore! Koreans now expect talent, beauty, academic excellence, and someone who can go to America and amaze everyone…!  

– This Venice Biennale, you see, has a long history and tradition…!  

– Where on earth did such a genius come from?  

‘If you spend about thirty years preparing to be an artist, then get reincarnated into a girl’s body, this is what happens.’  

I scratched my butt as I answered the question in my head.  

– Scratch, scratch.  

So, what now?  

“…”  

Not too long ago, I had been mindful of carrying myself in a more feminine way, but lately, I found myself dressing sloppily like I used to. I just felt like it.  

“….”  

– Creak—  

“!?”  

I turned around.  

Uncle came in, pushing the sliding door open with his foot. He was holding a pot wrapped in a thick dishcloth. The ramen inside was still bubbling.  

“Hana, something to put it on! Quick!”  

“Here.”  

I casually placed a phone book on the table.  

Uncle carefully set the pot down with a grunt.  

“Uncle, you make all these groaning noises every time you move these days. Are you doing it on purpose?”  

“You start making these sounds naturally when you get older.”  

“You don’t do it in front of Teacher Im Ahra, though.”  

“…Why are you bringing her up all of a sudden?”  

Teacher Im Ahra still visited our house for dinner from time to time. At first, she had come once or twice under the excuse of catching up with me. But soon, excuses weren’t even necessary it just became part of the routine.  

‘But honestly, the one she wants to keep seeing isn’t me…’  

“…”  

I sneaked a glance at Uncle.  

“…”  

‘…Though, to be fair, he does tidy up his act a little when she’s around.’  

Suspicious Uncle Park Taeoh slurped his ramen with a blank expression. His face looked like he wasn’t expecting anything at all.  

– Slurp.  

“…”  

That was unexpected. Back when he had a thing going on with that clothing store employee her name was fuzzy in my memory he used to be all obvious about it.  

‘Back when I was a guy, he’d even tell me all sorts of dirty stories after spending the night with someone. Maybe this time around, since I cut things off cleanly before it ever got to that point, he never even got the chance?’

Good or bad, Uncle had always had a fairly masculine side. But this was the first time I’d seen him act so detached, even when there was a potential romantic relationship on the horizon.  

“…”  

“……Uncle, are you not getting married anymore? You always said you would once you had a stable job. I think Teacher Im Ahra would be great. Back in elementary school, she took care of me like a mom… If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have met Mari, or gotten into Hanul.”  

“…”  

“If you two have a baby, I’ll help take care of them. Our school foundation even has a childcare center. And I’ve worked as a teacher at a child psychology therapy center in New York. Uncle, you have a lot of places you want to visit and things you want to do, right?”  

“…”  

Pause.  

“…”  

Silence.  

“…”  

“…”  

‘Hmm, did I cross a line?’  

I glanced at Uncle, gauging his reaction.  

“…”  

“…”  

Park Taeoh chewed his ramen slowly, his expression thoughtful. He didn’t seem particularly angry. After hesitating for a moment, he swallowed his noodles and finally spoke.  

“…Well, I mean… You act like some thirty-year-old old man yourself, so I guess I’ll just be honest with you.”  

“…”  

– Mumble, mumble.  

Uncle muttered under his breath for a while before finally opening his mouth again.  

“Well, you know… Ahra? Yeah, Ahra’s great. She’s a good person. If someone asked me where to find another woman like her, I’d probably throw a punch first. Honestly, I can only call it luck.”  

“…”  

“But, here’s the thing… Hmm.”  

“…”  

“I’m… I’m thirty-seven now, right? These days, my back starts aching the moment I get up. Even when I exercise, I can’t move the way I used to. If I squat down for too long, it hurts so much that I’ve had to ask my employees to do things for me instead.”  

“Hmm.”  

“But Ahra is still in her late twenties. It’s a prime age.”  

“Hmm.”  

“Palgon’s older sister is a teacher, so I asked her about it. Apparently, getting a teaching certificate takes years of dedication even after college. Considering all that, Ahra is still… just starting out in society, isn’t she?”  

“So?”  

“…”  

Uncle groaned again, gripping his head. Then, as if resigning himself, he finally spoke.  

“We’re just… not on the same page.”  

“…”

“Now that I’m in my late 30s and Ahra is in her late 20s, we’re not at an age where we can just test the waters with dating… No matter how reckless I am, I find myself hesitating now.”  

“…”  

“Just… that’s why.”  

“I see.”  

We fell into silence for a moment.  

“…”  

“…”  

-Slurrrp...  

And then we resumed eating our ramen.  

I casually spoke.  

“Is that really the problem…?”  

“Huh?”  

“Age, that… doesn’t seem like such a big deal.”  

“Hey…”  

Even though I had never been in a proper relationship, the words came out surprisingly smoothly. Maybe it was because it sounded similar to the thoughts I had been reprimanding myself with.  

“You both like each other, and it’s not like I mind, even though technically I’m your nephew. The situation works out fine. But if you start worrying about qualifications and roles and all that… Uncle, are you sure you won’t regret it?”  

“…”  

“To be honest… I don’t think an opportunity like this will come again.”  

“…”  

A pause.  

“…”  

“…”  

We continued eating our ramen.  

-Slurrrp…  

Uncle silently chewed his food.  

“…Alright.”  

“Yeah, just let me know when you start dating. I have plenty of places to stay besides here.”  

“…You little…ugh.”  

Uncle shook his head. Then, scratching his head, he spoke with an apologetic look.  

“So, that’s why you’ve been so moody lately? Not because of the Biennale or a breakup?”  

“Huh? I was moody?”  

I figured someone must’ve dragged me to a Biennale against my will, or that he assumed I was dealing with my first heartbreak. But Uncle….  

“You suddenly started dressing all sloppy and stuff. I thought you were just busy worrying about some country bumpkin’s love life instead of your own… Geez.”  

“…”  

Those words stung my chest for a moment.  

But surprisingly, the pain faded quickly.  

“…”  

While I couldn’t immediately respond,  

Uncle swiftly processed and sorted out his emotions.  

“Anyway, got it.”  

“Yeah.”  

On the TV, a report played about a prodigious young artist making an unprecedented mark in history.  

But here we were, wrapped up in this messy, trivial conversation.  

Genius or not, that’s just how life was.  

A few weeks later.

“Can you stay at a friend’s place this weekend?”  

Of course, I went straight to Mija’s house.

*

The quiet welcome of 2007, it was just a few days after the New Year.  

In front of me, Mari and Manager Jeong shouted in a theatrical tone, both of them with their arms wide open. They stood in a pose like mascots at an amusement park.  

Behind them was a neat white building.  

“Ta-da!”  

“Ta-da!”  

“…”  

It wasn’t a newly built building, but it was rare to see such a nice building in Seoul.  

‘If a café or convenience store opens here, the property value will skyrocket, won’t it…?’  

We stood side by side in the building’s parking lot.  

“…?”  

‘But what does this mean…?’  

I looked at Manager Jeong and spoke.  

“What is this?”  

“Huh? It’s the studio for you and Miss Mari.”  

“…?!”  

I quickly turned my head.  

A four-story, clean white building in Seoul. It wasn’t newly built, but it had a perfectly prepared parking lot, and it was in a prime location, distanced just enough from nearby shops.  

‘How is this now a studio…? What is going on?’  

“There’s been talk about supporting art writers within the group for a while now, all thanks to Miss Mari. For a while, the group got busy, and the discussion faded… but now! As you can see, we’ve transformed into ‘HU Art Studio!’ And the very first artist in our lineup is our very own Mari!”  

“Wow!”  

Mari clapped her hands innocently beside him.  

-Clap clap clap clap!  

“……”  

And around Manager Jeong’s neck was a name tag that said, “HU Art Studio Artist Management.”  

‘Was Manager Jeong being assigned all this work by Director Kang because of this?’  

Come to think of it,  

Manager Jeong had been dropping hints about projects and secrets ever since New York.  

With his hand on his hip, Manager Jeong spoke.  

“Heh heh… I don’t know why, but HU Group suddenly restricted funds this year, so it’s been tough… Ahem, anyway, this is a project we’ve been pushing for with great effort! Of course, what happened in New York had a big impact.”  

“…But I’m not officially part of the studio yet. Is it okay to use it?”  

“Of course! You’re already on the VIP list of HU Group’s key people… Ahem, I mean, just feel free to use it!”  

“…”  

I had a feeling this guy shouldn’t be the one explaining things to others.  

‘Still, if they can manage such a big project even while cutting back on funds, it seems like HU Group is doing well, huh…?’  

While I was blankly staring at the building where the studio would be set up,  

Mari came over to me.  

“Hana.”  

“Yeah?”  

Surprisingly, she wasn’t wearing an eye mask or earplugs, even though we were outside. Of course, considering that we were in a quiet parking lot, it made sense.  

“…You know,”  

“Yeah?”  

“I’m in high school starting this year.”  

“Yeah, that’s true.”  

“…So I’m planning to stop commuting and go to the dorms.”  

“…!”  

I quickly turned to look at Mari.  

She seemed surprisingly calm.  

“…Really?”  

“Yeah.”  

“Why?”  

“Well, I kept thinking about why you didn’t ask for my help when you were in New York. After thinking about it for a while, I realized it was actually simple. You were trying to do your best on your own, with your own strength. And I was just pretending to help and clinging to my dad.”  

“…”  

“So this time, I want to try my best too.”  

“I see.”  

“Now, I’m going to keep facing my scary memories and slowly get used to them. Until all those memories, like old photos, stop being scary.”  

“…I see.”  

I suddenly said,  

“I’m glad.”  

“Yeah.”

*

One day, during the preparations for the biennale and the winter vacation, I got a call from my homeroom teacher.  

“With your uncle?”  

“Yeah, there’s a parent-teacher meeting scheduled. We need to talk about a few things.”  

“Is that so…?”  

“What do you mean? Hana, you’re already in 3rd year of middle school. You should start thinking about things like your high school entrance exam direction soon.”  

“…Ah.”  

Hearing that,  

I suddenly felt the passage of time.  

“Got it. I’ll go with my uncle tomorrow.”  

“Okay~”  

I hung up the phone and muttered to myself,  

“…Already in 3rd year.”