A Musical Genius Who Plays Memories - Chapter 34

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 34. If You Stay By My Side (3)

 

“Hmm… Jazz? That’s too fast and still too difficult. City pop won’t work with the instruments we have.”

 

Countless musical ideas floated through my mind, but I couldn’t seem to get a grasp on any of them.

 

My dilemma was this:

 

I needed to create a piece that would be easy for children to play, and one that children would find familiar.

 

So I decided to modify a familiar song – one that the children would already know.

 

In other words, I would arrange it.

 

Composition was difficult, but arrangement was difficult too.

 

The problem was that it wasn’t easy to decide which song to use.

 

“Hm? What’s that sound?”

 

A faint sound of music reached my ears in the quiet room.

 

The sound was so familiar that I stepped outside my room.

 

“Son, what is it?”

 

“I came out because I heard music.”

 

“Ah, that’s the sound from the TV. Dad’s going to watch a movie – want to watch together?”

 

“Mm. No thanks. I’m going to go play piano.”

 

“Alright, work hard.”

 

Thanks to Father, it seemed like my dilemma would be resolved.

 

The sound coming from the TV was a very famous classical piece.

 

Canon.

 

More precisely, Canon in D major composed by Johann Pachelbel.

 

It was a piece that was famous among musicians even before I died.

 

It had gained even more explosive popularity in modern times, so even though it wasn’t my composition, I felt somewhat proud.

 

‘Good, let’s go with this. But I’ll make it short. The original is long and difficult.’

 

I quickly put my mind to work.

 

Pachelbel’s Canon was in D major.

 

But I would change it to C major.

 

The reason was the same as when I performed at Aunt’s Studio before.

 

It was the comfort of not having to press the black keys.

 

Since this wasn’t for me but for the child who would perform this piece, I wouldn’t make it difficult.

 

‘And somehow it feels like it would be better in C major.’

 

But I would compose it without damaging the original.

 

I would change it just enough so that someone who knew Canon would go “Oh? This is…!” when they heard it.

 

And I had another plan as well.

 

‘No matter how much I arrange Canon, it’ll be hard for Ajin to play it with both hands. So let’s make it so she can just play the melody.’

 

Then who would play the accompaniment, you ask?

 

Me, of course.

 

If another child could play it, I was thinking of letting them handle it.

 

That way it would perfectly fit the purpose of being a piece that children could perform.

 

“Alright, let’s do this!”

 

I placed my fingers on the piano.

 

First, I would try creating the melody.

 

My fingers walked across the keys at a comfortable pace.

 

Just as a newborn baby can’t run around immediately after birth, playing was the same.

 

Both the accompaniment and melody were on the easy side, but it was a piece that would be difficult to play with both hands.

 

‘Thanks to Jeong Mi-rae pairing us up in groups of two, a good idea came to mind.’

 

When I created music, I always needed a motif.

 

As I kept pressing the piano keys, what came to mind was Ajin and my past self.

 

More precisely, the thought of wishing someone had played alongside me.

 

If only I had known the joy of playing together with someone beside me.

 

‘I have that now. More than I deserve.’

 

I gently pressed the piano keys.

 

I didn’t step on the pedal that would sustain the notes.

 

I simply used the basic sounds available on the piano.

 

I tried to capture the raw performance of someone learning piano for the first time.

 

I thought of Ajin’s playing.

 

‘To call it playing would be an overstatement – it’s just banging on the piano.’

 

So I imitated that.

 

A regular melody.

 

The melody played exactly in 4/4 time was rigid.

 

– E – G – G – A -♬

 

It was similar to the original Canon, but I wanted a performance that was somehow different.

 

What I wanted was ultimately “Oh? This sounds similar?”

 

‘Canon. In the past I only knew of it, but didn’t really play it much. I should have practiced it more.’

 

The more I played the piece, the further it drifted from the original.

 

I didn’t know all the note names of Canon.

 

Of course, I had perfect pitch – I could tell what note it was just by hearing it.

 

But I didn’t have time now, and doing that would make it too similar to the original, so I just borrowed the chord progression of the accompaniment.

 

This much was fine since everyone did it.

 

Canon’s progression must have been so good that it even got the nickname “money chords.”

 

That was one of the pieces of knowledge Father had taught me.

 

‘Ha, I should have listened more carefully then. I was drinking formula at the time and was so sleepy I nearly died.’

 

The sudden memory from the past made me chuckle.

 

Accordingly, the melody also went up an octave.

 

Now I needed to put emotion into it.

 

I had two choices.

 

One was the loneliness of wishing someone would play beside me.

 

Though it was a high note, because it was choppy, it created a rather scary melody instead.

 

The emotion of loneliness became like a spider web, like something that hits your face while walking down the street.

 

It was an annoying melody that really ruined the mood.

 

So I couldn’t use this accompaniment.

 

The other option was joy.

 

I would try to capture the happiness of no longer being lonely, of having someone by my side.

 

The emotion of happiness was truly simple and easy to express.

 

For instance, eating food you like was also happiness.

 

I could express the feeling of aroma, texture, and taste spreading in your mouth.

 

If meat tasted sweet, I could play softly; if it was salty, I could play intensely.

 

Then how should I express the happiness of sharing music you love with someone else?

 

‘This is so easy.’

 

Let me imagine.

 

A scene where my current friends are around my past self.

 

The sound of keys being pounded while sitting in the middle of the piano would disappear.

 

I wouldn’t hear the annoying voice of “that person” scolding me either.

 

The humid and damp environment would remain the same, but I could still play happily.

 

Teaching each other when we didn’t know something.

 

Playing joyful pieces, dancing together, and enjoying it together.

 

It would have been a difficult environment, but surely we could have all played while laughing happily.

 

‘I’m happy now. So I’ll put this emotion into it.’

 

The current melody needed to contain a happy heart.

 

The sound flowing from the keys sparkled like a single star.

 

The stars connected and intertwined to become constellations.

 

The piano was a loom that held the music called happiness.

 

That was what I wanted to say.

 

– Do Re- Mi- Re- Sol La-♪

 

The emotion called happiness contains countless other emotions.

 

Among them, there must be exciting feelings too.

 

So let’s increase the tempo just a little.

 

What I had learned while playing certainly helped.

 

Though I came to make music, there was loneliness on one side.

 

I had a friend, but he could only enjoy my music as a listener.

 

I hoped he could fully feel the pain and anguish I felt while creating pieces, and the joy and happiness when completing them, but that was my greed.

 

‘But not anymore. I have friends and family who make music. So.’

 

The piano keys grew increasingly intense.

 

Before I knew it, I was at the boundary between composition and performance.

 

In one corner of my mind, the command ‘Make it so the children can play it!’ continued.

 

My eyes grew slightly moist at the flow of accompaniment that supported the melody strongly, yet without forgetting its proper role.

 

If tears contained emotions, my tears would be filled with happiness.

 

‘It’s not a long piece. So let’s finish it soon.’

 

My performance didn’t continue endlessly.

 

Since songs must have endings, the happy performance was regrettably bound to be short.

 

– Do-♩

 

The last note stretched out like cheese.

 

I began transcribing the piece I had played onto staff paper.

 

I replayed the confusing parts, and removed the overly emotional sections.

 

Time passed as I played and played again.

 

It could have been a tedious process, but I found this moment enjoyable too.

 

Though the process of creating music brought clear fatigue that weighed down my shoulders.

 

I imagined people’s reactions when they heard this piece and used that as motivation to push forward.

 

‘Besides, since this piece came to mind thanks to Ajin, I need to make it with quality.’

 

I might not know about performance, but I had never half-heartedly composed anything.

 

Moreover, if it was a piece I composed while thinking of my friend, I couldn’t possibly do it carelessly.

 

A 5-year-old’s stamina was overflowing, so sitting in a chair all day was no problem.

 

Now, let’s play it tediously until it’s complete.

 

***

 

“Does Heeseong do that all day? Do you know what he’s doing?”

 

“Well….”

 

Shin Ji-eun and Yoon Young-hoon looked at Hee-seong through the gap in the door.

 

Pressing the same note dozens of times, messing up his hair wildly, or banging the keys hard.

 

He looked like an anguished artist.

 

“It looks like he’s composing.”

 

“Why? All of a sudden?”

 

Among the composers he knew, there was exactly one person who made such a fuss.

 

“He’s just like Hwang Su-jin.”

 

“Why are you suddenly bringing up my sister?”

 

“Look at Heeseong. Doesn’t he resemble your sister when viewed from outside the studio?”

 

“…Huh?”

 

Shin Ji-eun thought of someone after hearing Yoon Young-hoon’s words.

 

Someone who wouldn’t let anyone else enter her studio.

 

Someone who would mess up her hair so wildly when work wasn’t going well that you’d worry about hair loss.

 

Someone who just seemed crazy.

 

“Tsk, our son isn’t crazy though….”

 

“No, not that! I’m talking about the working part.”

 

“The working does look similar. Wait, so you’re saying Heeseong is composing right now?”

 

“It seems like it. Just from the sound.”

 

“What is this…!”

 

Shin Ji-eun was speechless.

 

She had recently told Aeyeon’s Mother to let the children do what they wanted.

 

The fact that her son was doing something beyond imagination sent her mind to Andromeda.

 

She began to think that Hee-seong’s talent might be more outstanding than she had thought.

 

“…It might be fortunate that Hwang Su-jin couldn’t come today.”

 

“Right? If she had come…. Wow, I don’t even want to imagine.”

 

“Hehe…. It’s nice to see our son working so hard.”

 

“Our son will let us hear it soon.”

 

The two people’s eyes filled with tears and proud emotions.

 

Just watching quietly made them feel proud and fond, showing their teeth in smiles.

 

The two quietly closed the door.

 

The musician couple knew very well that disturbing their son’s work was never a good thing.

 

“But no matter how I look at it, our son doesn’t seem like a 5-year-old.”

 

“I think so too. Sometimes I forget he’s a child. Maybe he takes after you. He’s so mature.”

 

“Even if you say that, I won’t switch tonight’s dinner duty.”

 

“Tsk, too bad.”

 

The couple exchanged jokes as usual.

 

However, unusual sounds were coming from the child’s room.

 

The sound leaking through the door crack became quiet with a thud.

 

A composer’s worries would continue in the small room.

 

Past and present.

 

***

 

Monday at Hansul Preschool.

 

In Moran Class where children were starting to arrive one by one, Ajin was flustered.

 

“Hee, Heeseong, are you okay…?”

 

My eyebrows kept drooping as if heavy weights were attached to them.

 

And my body was so heavy that I kept swaying.

 

I was heavy enough that no wind could blow me away.

 

“I’m fine…. I just couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”

 

“How many hours did you sleep?”

 

“Oh, Aeyeon was there too. Well. About 9 hours?”

 

“?”

 

“?”

 

“Why?”

 

Why are they like that?

 

Only sleeping 9 hours was really tough.

 

I need to sleep at least 10 hours a day, including naps.

 

The children seemed not to understand my words, then suddenly nodded.

 

“Heeseong can be like that.”

 

“Right…. Heeseong is a sleepyhead…!”

 

“I don’t sleep that much.”

 

“But you sleep the latest during nap time?”

 

“Ahem.”

 

“Sleepyhead. But what’s that in your hand?”

 

Aeyeon showed interest in the notebook in my hand.

 

As expected, what’s expected is expected.

 

I didn’t hide it and showed it to the children.

 

“Ta-da. How is it?”

 

It was sheet music containing the song I had composed over the weekend.

 

The two children stared at it for a long time before speaking.

 

“Hmm… I’m not sure.”

 

“I think I could do it too.”

 

As expected, Ajin showed a reaction that it seemed burdensome.

 

I knew that would happen.

 

But if it’s Aeyeon, the story would be different.

 

Aeyeon was a child with talent that I acknowledged.

 

‘But I wonder if she can play it right after seeing it.’

 

No matter how genius a person is, when it comes to sheet music they’re seeing for the first time, the standard approach is to listen to the performance, slowly understand the piece, and then play it afterward.

 

I was curious whether Aeyeon could actually do this.

 

“There’s still time left before class starts. Aeyeon, let’s play together.”

 

“But I don’t know how to play it?”

 

“You’ll be able to do it quickly. Let’s try it fast. Ajin, you come too.”

 

“Huh…? Me too?”

 

Ajin inadvertently followed Aeyeon and me as we moved to the small piano in the corner of Moran Class.

 

Aeyeon sat in front of the piano, tapped the keys, and said.

 

“The accompaniment is difficult.”

 

“Of course! This is meant to be played by two people.”

 

“Two people? How?”

 

“Aeyeon, you play the melody. I’ll play the accompaniment.”

 

“Ah.”

 

Aeyeon seemed to understand what I said and immediately bounced up and down in place.

 

How can she bounce like that while sitting?

 

A chuckle escaped at the behavior of this child who had a somewhat quirky side.

 

I sat on the half-empty piano chair.

 

From now on, Aeyeon and my performance would begin.

 

But there was something I had to do first.

 

“Ajin, you need to listen carefully.”

 

“Yes…! I’ll listen carefully…!”

 

I looked at the child with a tense expression and thought to myself.

 

‘You should listen carefully. This is a piece I made while thinking of you.’

 

I soon turned my head.

 

Now was the moment to slowly walk the path called the keyboard with feet called fingers.

 

Of course, I wasn’t alone.

 

Aeyeon was beside me.

 

– Ding-♬

 

The piece we played together began with my accompaniment like gentle waves.

 

After a little time passed like that.

 

I gently asked Ajin.

 

“Ajin, would you like to try playing?”

 

The child had a fearful expression on her face.

 

But perhaps unable to hide her desire to play, her body was already moving.

 

Like a child who had received a gift, a red flush rose to Ajin’s face.

 

“I want to try…!”

 

The child’s voice was always small, but not now.

 

It was a voice filled with the will to try something.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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