I Was Michelangelo in My Past Life

* * * *

The sun was red.

It was time to go home.

Ziiiip. Kang-seok turned his back after zipping up his bag. Jo Dong-beom watched the whole sequence with a dazed expression, as if still dreaming.

What was that, really?

Thinking back to Kang-seok's butterfly drawing, Jo Dong-beom spaced out again. It felt like seeing a world he'd never known. How could he ever forget it? He couldn't.

An awakening.

Like secretly peeking into a new world.

Anyone who experienced it would feel the same longing. The sensation of touching a realm unreachable by ordinary human perception—this wasn't something one could easily move on from.

The afterglow lingered.

Jo Dong-beom's eyes wistfully followed Kang-seok's bag. More precisely, they longed for the drawing inside that bag. How great would it be if he could see it again? Wait, come to think of it—wasn't there a reason that butterfly was drawn in the first place?

"You're in charge of the big renovation at Dragon God Land, right?"

"Actually, what comes after the renovation is even more important."

"I'm thinking of decorating that abandoned building."

He never said it explicitly, but the intention was clear.

"Teacher."

"Hmm?"

"Are you planning to use that butterfly drawing to decorate the abandoned building?"

"Hmm. The drawing... well. I do plan on using the butterfly. That's right, but…"

Kang-seok narrowed his brow as he spoke. His face wasn't normally expressive, so this subtle change showed his discomfort quite clearly.

He doesn't like the idea.

Why not? Does he not want to draw it? That can't be—it's not like he dislikes drawing. Then does he not want to draw butterflies anymore? Maybe he had planned to use them for the building, but upon actually seeing one, it creeped him out?

Is that why he's frowning—because he hates drawing butterflies now?

That can't be!

"What's wrong?"

I need to see the butterfly. My butterfly. Mine! Jo Dong-beom swallowed his desperate cry and looked pleadingly at Kang-seok. At the same time, Kang-seok let out a sigh and spoke.

"I'll be looking up at ceilings a lot for this project. The environment's better than before, but still—there are things I just can't get used to."

…Huh?

When exactly is "before"?

Jo Dong-beom looked at Kang-seok, who had just barely turned nineteen.

"Still, the world's much nicer now. Back in my day, we didn't even have back braces. Oh, and no artificial tears either. Goggles? What goggles? When paint splashed into your eyes, you just took it like a champ…"

Back brace? Goggles? Paint in the eyes? Jo Dong-beom blanked out, stunned by Kang-seok's bizarre tales. The butterfly painting that had once floated in his mind was now long gone.

"…People would walk by, gawking, and that old man kept waving his cane around asking when I'd be done."

What kind of middle school life did you have? Listening to this tear-streaked tale of sweat and toil, Jo Dong-beom silently walked beside him.

Under the red sky.

The eco-park breathed with living earth and trees. Their shadows stretched long across the deep brown ground.

"Are you heading back to the studio now?"

Kang-seok's smaller shadow stretched to meet an old tree.

"No, I have plans."

"What kind of plans?"

Kang-seok's shadow scratched its head. Then he spoke the most suitable word.

"…A group dinner?"

That Evening, After Sunset

A night sky like a swirl of cobalt and navy paints.

Kang-seok walked through a busy downtown area. Right in the middle of Seoul. After parting with Jo Dong-beom, he wandered alone, scanning left and right.

He was looking for the meeting place.

"They said to look for a big crab…"

Where was this crab, anyway? Narrowing his eyes, Kang-seok turned to the opposite side of the street. Finding a crab among all the dazzling reds, yellows, blacks, and whites wasn't easy.

Then he saw it.

Turning a corner into an alley, he spotted a seafood restaurant painted bright blue, with a giant crimson-red crab fixed above it instead of a sign.

This was the place.

"You better show up. Got it?"

A few days ago. Kang-seok recalled Godoo-han's voice—his art teacher—circling his easel during sketch class, repeatedly emphasizing the meeting location.

Apparently, they were having a reunion dinner with alumni who'd graduated back in February, to celebrate the release of the figure drawing collection. That day was today.

With his major projects done, and the renovation still incomplete, Kang-seok decided he'd take it easy tonight and just eat and relax.

University life, huh… As he thought about the alumni, he opened the restaurant door.

"Is it okay if I take this water?"

"Yes, yes! We usually bring it to the tables, but the place suddenly got swamped…"

"It's fine. I prefer grabbing it myself. Thank you."

The moment he stepped in, Kang-seok saw a busy waitress disappear—and a shock of dazzling blonde hair.

A tennis skirt, a varsity jacket with a university logo, overly sparkly eyes, possibly from makeup or alcohol, and flushed cheeks.

Her outfit was unfamiliar, but her face—it was strangely familiar.

Why does she look so familiar? Just as he thought that, her eyes met his. Her expression lit up instantly, like seeing someone dear.

"Seok!"

The blonde turned fully toward him. A bright smile. The moment he saw her face straight-on, recognition shot through him.

Ah.

It was senior Yoo Mi-ji.

"First, Yoo Mi-ji."

"Yes!"

"The colors are a bit too bright, and the contrast is weak, so it might look flat or unfinished—but your elegant lines and delicate expression made the cut. Don't get cocky; keep improving."

One of the three whose works were chosen for the final published figure drawing book.

"It's been so long, really."

"It has, senior."

"Just call me Mi-ji noona, okay? Come on, say it: Mi-ji noona. Oh, this way. The teacher made a reservation."

"…Ah."

Avoiding her overly sparkly gaze, Kang-seok followed her to the entrance. Mi-ji kept chatting non-stop like a fountain.

She hadn't been this outgoing before. College had completely changed her personality.

"…So I've been dropping by Teacher Godoo-han's studio now and then, but I never saw you. Do you not go anymore?"

Her eyes sparkled with something like disappointment. She's wearing color contacts, he realized. Kang-seok nodded slowly, processing the new image of her.

"Yes. I only went there while I was working on the drawing studies."

"Really? That's a shame. I thought I'd be seeing you more."

She seemed to still be aiming for a spot in Godoo-han's group and was pushing hard. Kang-seok made vague excuses about meeting up later and followed her into the room.

"Today's star, Kang-seok, has arrived!"

"You're here."

"Seok!"

"Long time no see!"

His seniors welcomed him cheerfully, now used to Yoo Mi-ji's excessive reactions. With all the clapping, anyone might think Kang-seok was the real guest of honor.

Weren't there three people chosen? Just as he thought that, someone calmly waved and greeted him.

"There's a seat here."

Turning, he saw a composed male student with glasses and straight hair.

"Second, Choi Young-tae."

"Yes."

"You made the cut for your excellent use of negative space and reflected light—but your work's too sharp. Your figures look like blades. Be careful."

It was Choi Young-tae.

The last of the three artists chosen for the book.

At least this senior hadn't changed. Feeling a strange sense of familiarity, Kang-seok took the seat.

"You doing okay?"

"Sorry?"

"That Buddhist statue club must be pestering you at school, right? You good?"

Choi Young-tae adjusted his glasses. His sharp eyes peered through the lenses.

Wait—Buddhist statue club?

"They haven't really bothered me, actually…"

"Really?"

Choi gave a vague nod. Just then, Godoo-han stood up a few seats over.

"I bought it, okay?! If you're so jealous, go buy your own. Stop whining over someone else's stuff!"

"Sir, it's cheating to buy it before it even hits the shelves!"

"It's out today."

"When are we supposed to go to the bookstore?! We've got all-nighters every day! I barely made it here—haven't even washed—and I've got class in the morning. Please have mercy! I need Seok's book for my croquis and drawing homework!"

"Then buy it yourself."

"Siiiiiir! I heard you bought more than ten extra copies! Just sell me one!"

"No way."

Godoo-han clutched the figure drawing book and fended her off like a fortress.

Watching their teacher—who looked twice the woman's age—fight her over a single book, Choi Young-tae chuckled.

"Your book's causing a stir. Everyone saw it and freaked out. Me and Mi-ji's books are being completely overshadowed."

Mi-ji and Young-tae laughed as they exchanged looks.

"Ah."

Kang-seok turned to Young-tae.

"Ah? Don't get me wrong. I'm a fan too."

Young-tae held up a copy of Kang-seok's figure drawing book.

"I heard it was out today, so I grabbed two copies on my way—one to use, one to keep."

Seeing Young-tae boast about his purchase felt surreal. Between the alumni, bookstore shopping bags were tucked here and there—most had bought at least one or two copies.

"Your book's gonna be a hit, huh?"

"Yeah. Everyone's scrambling to get copies before it sells out."

"Some even went to the store just now—worried it'll be gone by the end of the day."

"Haha, really?"

Kang-seok chuckled politely, though his face was skeptical.

There hadn't been any advertisements, and the book was printed before the release of his sculpture Father, so it didn't even mention his name as the artist.

No matter how good a book is, it's hard to hit big from the start if no one knows it exists.

Of course, it wasn't that he doubted the quality of his own book.

But sold out on the first day?

Isn't that a bit much?

Kang-seok put a piece of sashimi in his mouth.

It melted instantly.

While Kang-seok was tasting king crab for the first time in his life at a king crab specialty restaurant, Choi Yul-muk, the director of the sculpture academy [Ground], was attending a directors' meeting in Seogyo-dong.

"…Then let's proceed as discussed and wrap things up for today, shall we?"

They were finalizing the schedule for the upcoming academy joint evaluation.

Usually, each franchise academy would gather and participate in the nationwide joint evaluation at once. However, this time, there was a proposal for just the Seogyo-dong academies to hold a joint evaluation. After several meetings over the past two weeks, they were finally coordinating the details.

"Let's do that."

"I agree."

None of the directors looked completely satisfied with the schedule, but their expressions said, "This'll do."

And Choi Yul-muk was no different.

"Then let's continue with the rest in the next meeting. That's all for today."

"Sounds good."

"Great work, everyone."

"Thanks."

"Appreciate it."

While the directors exchanged pleasantries, each masking their subtle power plays, Choi Yul-muk quickly gathered his notes and pens and stood up from his seat.

"Then, I'll be heading off first."

Normally, there'd be a silent battle of who gets up last, but his sudden movement caught everyone by surprise.

[Ground] was the first to leave? That academy used to be like a neighborhood mom-and-pop shop, but now it was a prominent sculpture academy in Seogyo-dong.

"Got somewhere to be?"

The director of Green Island academy couldn't resist and stopped Choi Yul-muk, essentially asking what the rush was. Just as Choi Yul-muk was about to open the door and leave in haste, he turned back toward the Green Island director.

His eyes held a mixture of anticipation, urgency, and irritation.

"Ah… well…"

How should I explain this? After a brief hesitation, Choi Yul-muk spoke with a resolved look.

"A student of mine just published a book."

"Oh, really?"

"Huh? Which student?"

"Who could it be?"

The other directors jumped in, trying to sound like they knew something. They mentally ran through the list of instructors at [Ground] who could be called a "student" of Choi Yul-muk.

"Does he mean the vice-director?"

"But isn't the age gap between them too small to call him a student?"

"I heard he joined as vice-director when they merged with that Incheon academy. That place used to be his."

Choi Yul-muk heard the whispering and waved his hands in dismissal.

"No, no, I'm talking about a student who recently quit the academy."

"...Huh?"

"Quit the academy?"

A student who quit the academy? So, was he a part-time instructor? Or a former student? The more they heard, the more confused the directors became.

"Haha…"

Choi Yul-muk couldn't hide his awkwardness. He was desperate to see the figure drawing book Kang-seok had published, but the conversation just wouldn't end.

After a brief internal struggle, Choi Yul-muk tightly gripped his leather notebook and, clenching his teeth, offered:

"If you're curious… would you like to come see it with me?"

Like it or not, just let me go. He pleaded earnestly.

And so, now…

The group of academy directors ended up visiting a large bookstore right in the middle of the Seogyo-dong art academy district. As they walked, students greeted them at every step — like a gang strolling through town.

On this fiery Friday night, young people out for fun peeked their heads out like meerkats, curiously eyeing the group of middle-aged men.

"Who are those guys? Why are students greeting them?"

"No idea. Teachers, maybe?"

"But the uniforms are all different. Teachers from where? And what's with the scary faces? Are they gangsters?"

Blushing, Choi Yul-muk quietly walked toward a corner of the bookstore. Meanwhile, the others, basking in the attention like blooming flowers, followed him in high spirits.

"This is nice. Haven't been out in a while. Good to breathe fresh air instead of smelling pencils all day. These scented candles? Diffusers? Smell great."

"Yeah, this is good. Would be nice if this joint evaluation helps us academy directors get closer."

"Hey, I know a great tripe place. After the evaluation, how about a round of soju, yeah?"

"Oh. Love that idea."

It was like a bunch of middle-aged guys on a school trip.

Ignoring them, Choi Yul-muk quietly picked up a book.

[Kang-seok's Figure Drawing Collection]

Kang-seok. A name that never failed to stir his heart.

Like most art books, it was sealed in plastic and couldn't be opened. Even so, the cover alone was persuasive. The same Kang-seok who used to constantly mess up his figure drawings had now published his own collection?

He felt proud, even though he hadn't done anything.

Success even before graduation. So much for telling him to come back in a few years. Cradling the book in both hands, Choi Yul-muk picked up about nineteen copies and turned toward the counter.

There was no need to check the contents.

Ever since Kang-seok had left, Choi Yul-muk had been quietly tracking his progress through tidbits gathered from here and there.

He'd gathered enough to dedicate a section in his bookshelf — once reserved for college entrance materials — just for scrapbooks of Kang-seok's works.

Kang-seok was the real deal.

A true artist.

And Choi Yul-muk prided himself on being one of the few people who knew it.

Today, he hadn't come to check the book — he'd come to support it. Like a fan buying multiple copies of an idol's album.

He thought of the crumpled cash he'd brought — his secret stash. After it got confiscated last time, he'd been quietly saving up again.

Even with all his stash, he could only afford nineteen copies, which frustrated him. Still, if it helped boost sales and made Kang-seok more well-known, it was worth it.

Should I hide them in the academy storage for now so the missus doesn't find out?

In a way, this was a life-risking act. With a solemn heart, Choi Yul-muk stepped toward the register.

"Is that the one?"

"Director Choi, is that your student's book?"

"Figure drawing, huh?"

The other directors looked at the book in his hand, tilting their heads.

A figure drawing book?

"Looks like a figure drawing book by his student?"

"Says 'figure drawing collection' on the cover."

"Hmm. Don't they have a sample? Hey, excuse me!"

While Choi Yul-muk was at the counter, the staff opened a copy for display. The directors eagerly huddled around it.

[Kang-seok's Figure Drawing Collection]

They formed a tight circle around the book like curious chicks and opened it.

"Nice cover, but…"

"A high schooler drew this? Maybe a repeat student? Some kids just go to college after failing a few times and become instructors."

"If he published a book, maybe he opened his own academy?"

"Hmm. Let's take a look."

As they giggled and flipped through, the chatter came to a halt — by page four.

The hands turning the pages slowed, stopped after two or three turns. Someone who had gone back to the cover quietly read it again.

"Kang-seok's Figure Drawing Collection…"

"What is this?"

If this hit the Seogyo-dong scene, it'd be like a figure drawing god appeared.

They could almost hear students dropping from their rosters one by one.

It was that good.

Almost too good.

"Whoa… hand it over for a sec."

The director of Evening of Creation grabbed the book. Recently focused more on design, they had felt weak in painting and figure drawing — and this surpassed many instructor portfolios.

This could be used as an actual teaching material.

They flipped through again. One model, drawn four times from various angles — front, side, back — covering all perspectives of the human body.

Beautiful.

Simply beautiful.

"Could I actually use this… as a textbook?"

The director of Evening of Creation seriously considered it — and it looked like they weren't alone. Other directors, now scattered, were grabbing copies off the shelves.

One, two, three… some even carried whole stacks toward the counter.

This was bad.

"I need to…!"

The books were vanishing quickly. With most Seogyo-dong directors here, the supply dwindled fast. Think of all the instructors under them, all the students. Even if they charged each student for the book, it'd be a solid profit.

Damn it.

The Evening of Creation director started to panic. They'd heard in passing this was a one-time publishing project — it might not be reprinted.

In a frenzy, they rushed to the counter — just as Choi Yul-muk finished paying and turned to leave, startled by the commotion.

"Out of the way!"

This was the psychology of someone caught in a time-limited sale — the pressure was immense. The Evening of Creation director shouted at the counter with urgency.

"A h-h-hundred copies, please!!"

They were asking for 100 copies.