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Chapter 61: Sehan Art Academy (2)
TL: Enuma ID
Morning class began.
The teacher stood at the front, by the board.
"All right, starting today Jun's going to be studying with us too.
First up, Korean writing time! Today we'll review from the very beginning."
Е̊nūm̌ а̄ .îd
The male teacher handed out new notebooks and pencils.
Lee Jun got one too. A notebook divided into little boxes.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
It wasn't a canvas, and it wasn't a sketchbook either.
The ruled boxes meant the letters were to go inside them.
The teacher wrote big letters on the board.
'가나다라마바사' [TL Note: ga-na-da-ra-ma-ba-sa, the opening run of Korean syllables children learn first, like reciting the ABCs.]
Е̃n um̆ а .iď
"All right, shall we try copying them?"
The children started writing in their notebooks.
Lee Jun opened his notebook too.
On the first page there were example letters to trace.
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He gripped the pencil and moved his hand.
'가'
Еn̄ ūm а̊. ï d̃
He drew the horizontal stroke and brought the vertical stroke down.
But something was off.
When he drew a picture, every line went exactly where he wanted it.
Letters were different.
Same hand, same pencil, and yet the lines wouldn't obey.
The horizontal stroke rode up. The vertical one came out crooked.
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It turned out not as '가' but as something vaguely like '가'.
The '나' was crooked too. The 'ㄴ' was too big next to the 'ㅏ'.
For '다', the top and bottom of the 'ㄷ' spread too far apart.
The deeper he got into '라마바사', the more they tilted. They were supposed to stay inside the line, but '사' had wandered right out of it.
Lee Jun looked down at what he'd written.
All of it crooked. All different sizes.
Е nu m̌ а̊
The girl in the next seat glanced over at his notebook.
"You're bad at writing."
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A fearless opening remark.
"Yeah."
Lee Jun nodded, honest about it.
The girl peered at his face.
Ën um a
"I'm Kim Ha-eun."
"I'm Lee Jun."
"I know. You introduced yourself earlier, remember? You don't know me, though, do you?"
"No."
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"Figured. I was at the award ceremony too. I got the Excellence Award."
Kim Ha-eun had been at that ceremony as well. She'd watched him paint, all of it.
Еn̈um å
But Lee Jun didn't know her. She'd been one face among the many in the crowd.
He mulled over how to answer, then said,
"Congratulations. On the Excellence Award."
"...Right. Congratulations to you too. On the Grand Prix."
Ha-eun held up her own notebook.
As if to say she was the better writer.
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'가나다라마바사' stood there, neat and precise.
It was on another level from Lee Jun's.
[This is kind of embarrassing.]
The Shadow looked back and forth between the two notebooks and shook its head.
[A guy's supposed to show a girl nothing but his coolest side. This won't do.]
At the Shadow's words, Lee Jun tilted his head.
W̄ ѐb̂ n̂ о̆vel _Еn̂ú ṁ a
Every so often the Shadow said things he couldn't make sense of.
[Don't try to 'write' the letters, try to 'draw' them.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Think of that '가' on the board as a picture. You're copying a picture the teacher drew. Same as when you draw from a character sticker.]
Lee Jun looked at the board.
'가나다라마바사'
What if he thought of them as pictures instead of letters?
Е n ùm̀ а
The 'ㄱ' was a horizontal line with a single bend coming off it. The 'ㅏ' was a vertical line with a short horizontal one.
A picture of those two set in their fixed places.
Not perfectly straight lines. There were parts that bent, parts that flicked off at the end. The spacing was fixed too.
Lee Jun took the pencil again. The way he did when he drew.
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This time he didn't write. He drew.
'가'.
W̆е̊ b̃ nо̃ v̆ é l̇ .E̊ ń ùmӑ
The lines came out different.
The horizontal stroke went in level. The vertical one curved down smoothly.
The vertical line of the 'ㅏ' dropped straight, and the short horizontal one attached in exactly the right spot.
A '가' identical to the one on the board appeared on his notebook.
Then '나'.
The corner of the 'ㄴ' was exact. Even the tilt of the first part and the angle of the bend matched the board.
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'다라마바사'
The pencil moved fast.
Three seconds per letter. Seven letters sat in a neat row along the line.
Lee Jun looked down at his notebook.
Completely different from before.
Aligned to the line, uniform in size, evenly spaced.
E ṅŭm̂ а . і̊ ḋ
Letters as clean as the teacher's stood right there.
"......"
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Ha-eun looked at his notebook.
Her eyes went round.
"What?"
She snatched his notebook over and pored over it.
Ẃ е b n о v е́ l̇ Е n ū_m̆á
"It was all crooked before."
"Yeah."
"So what is this? Did you type it on a computer?"
"No. I drew it by hand."
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"You drew it?"
"Yeah. Writing doesn't work, but drawing does."
Е̂ ńum.а
Ha-eun's mouth fell open.
The teacher, making his rounds, stopped in front of Lee Jun's notebook.
The crooked letters on the first line. And the print-perfect letters on the second.
The difference was hard to believe had come from the same person.
"......Jun, did you write both of these?"
"Yes. This one I wrote, and this one I drew."
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
The teacher looked at Lee Jun for a moment, then smiled and moved on to the next child.
Ha-eun crossed her arms.
"Lee Jun."
"Yeah."
"You're a really weird kid."
"Weird?"
Е̌num̈ а .і d
"How does 'drawing' letters even make sense?"
Lee Jun thought for a moment.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Then he said,
"It worked, though."
If she asked whether it made sense, all he could say was that it did. Because he'd actually done it.
Ha-eun stared at him for a long while, then looked down at her own notebook.
W е̄b̂ n̂ o v̆ еl̄ Е n ũm̊а́
Her neat, careful letters. Right up until now she'd been so proud of them.
Lee Jun's 'drawn' letters were prettier than her 'written' ones.
Ha-eun puffed out her cheeks.
After Korean writing came snack time.
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Milk and animal-shaped biscuits were handed out.
Lee Jun drank his milk through a straw.
Ẃ еḃ n̂о̄v̂ ёl Е̃ n̄ûm̌ а́.
Beside him, Ha-eun munched a biscuit and asked,
"Lee Jun. Did you really draw the letters earlier?"
"Yeah."
"Does it work for other stuff too? Numbers?"
"I don't know. Haven't tried."
"Next up is arithmetic. Try it."
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Lee Jun nodded, slurping at his milk.
Across from them, Yun-ho spoke up with his mouth crammed full of biscuits.
"Lee Jun, which do you like better, the bear biscuit or the rabbit one?"
"Um, the bear?"
"Me too! The bear's bigger than the rabbit!"
Chae-rin cut in.
Ẅ еb̊ n̆ о̂ṽ е̂l Е̇ ń u m̀ а̇_
"But the rabbit's cuter."
"Cute's not what matters. With snacks, big is what matters."
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"Lee Jun, you've got a rabbit? Let's trade. I've got a giraffe."
"Okay."
He swapped biscuits with Chae-rin.
Before eating it, he studied it for a moment.
Е̌ ńû m а̃.і d
A giraffe. Long neck.
What did a real one look like? Was its neck really this long?
After snacks came the numbers lesson.
The teacher wrote numbers on the board and asked,
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"Three plus two is?"
"Five!"
Еn̈ůmа
The children answered all at once. Lee Jun said it too.
This one he knew.
"Well done. Then five plus three?"
"Eight!"
The other kids answered first.
Lee Jun counted on his fingers. From five, one, two, three.
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"Eight."
A beat behind the others.
"How about Jun tries this one? Seven plus four?"
The classroom went quiet.
Lee Jun spread both hands. Five on the left, two on the right. Seven.
He had to add four to that. He raised his right-hand fingers one by one.
W̃е.b n̄ о̀v ẽ l̂ Е̂ n ũ m̄ ä
Two, three.
He ran out of fingers.
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"......"
From across the way, Yun-ho and Chae-rin flashed him a signal, each holding up an index finger on both hands.
[It's eleven.]
The Shadow tipped him off too.
Е n̆ u ma .іd̆
"Eleven."
"Correct! Well done!"
The teacher smiled. His friends clapped too.
Lee Jun looked down at his fingers.
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Ten of them. When the numbers got big, they weren't enough.
The next problem.
W̊ ěbn оv̇е̌ ľ En̂ uḿa
"Now let's do it like a dictation. Write down the numbers I call out in your notebooks."
The teacher spoke.
"One."
The children wrote 1 in their notebooks. Lee Jun wrote 1 too.
"Three."
He wrote 3.
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"Seven."
Lee Jun stopped.
Seven.
It was 7. He knew what 7 looked like.
His hand moved smoothly.
The way it had in Korean writing time earlier.
Еń ú m̃а .і d̈
He didn't write the number either. He drew it.
A clean 7 appeared in his notebook. Neat.
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"Nine."
A round head with one tail.
He drew it.
Once again a clean 9 appeared.
Еn um̌ а̌
Numbers he could draw too. Anything whose shape he knew, he could draw.
But there was a problem.
"Okay, this time try solving this."
The teacher wrote on the board.
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'8 + 5 = ?'
Lee Jun set the pencil down again and spread his fingers.
Ӗ nü m̌ а́ .ï d
From eight, one, two......
His fingers came up short again.
Ha-eun was already writing the answer. No finger-counting.
"Ha-eun, how'd you do it?"
"Do what?"
"The adding. You don't count on your fingers?"
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Ha-eun answered as if it were the most obvious thing.
"You just do it in your head."
"In your head?"
"Yeah. After eight comes nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen. You just count five times like that."
He tried counting in his head the way she said.
After eight, nine, ten, eleven......
Е̌ n̆ u mа .id̀.
But he lost his way. He got confused about how many he'd counted.
[It's thirteen.]
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The Shadow tipped him off again.
Lee Jun drew 13.
It was correct. But it was an answer the Shadow had handed him.
Drawing numbers, he could do. But calculating with them, he was still clumsy at.
Е̊nu̇ m а̃
Unlike drawing, it was the work of manipulating something invisible inside his head.
Handling numbers instead of lines or shapes. To Lee Jun it was still an unfamiliar world.
Ha-eun looked at him and said,
"You draw better than me, but you're worse at arithmetic."
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"Yeah."
"...Want me to show you?"
Е̄ǹ ü m̂ а
"Yeah."
Lee Jun nodded hard.
Ha-eun sighed.
"Am I your teacher now?"
"Thanks, Teacher Ha-eun."
Lee Jun said it and meant it.
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Ha-eun's cheeks went red. She puffed them out and turned her face away.
"......I'm not your teacher. I'm just showing you."
Ha-eun started drawing circles on one side of the notebook.
"Look. For eight plus five, first you make ten out of the eight."
She drew eight circles.
Next to them, five squares.
Ё n̂um̌ а . і ḋ
"How many more do you need to make ten here?"
"Two."
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"Right. So you bring two over from the five to make ten. Then how many are left from the five?"
"Three left."
"So then it's ten and three. Add them up?"
"Thirteen."
Е̊ num̀ а̃
"Right! Do it this way and you don't need your fingers."
Lee Jun nodded.
Seeing it as a picture, he understood.
"Try one more. Seven plus six?"
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Lee Jun drew circles in his notebook. Seven of them. And six squares.
Three short of ten. Take three from the six, three left. Ten and three.
En̄u mа
"Thirteen."
"Right!"
Ha-eun nodded.
"You're not bad at arithmetic after all. You just didn't know the trick."
"Yeah. Thanks. It's all thanks to Teacher Ha-eun."
"But next time you have to do it without drawing the circles."
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"That sounds hard."
"You just practice. I couldn't do it at first either."
Lee Jun looked down at his notebook. Rows and rows of circles and squares filled it.
It was a math notebook, but it looked like a drawing notebook.
*
Lunchtime came.
W е ḃn ӧ v ѐ l Ёn̈ umа
The academy meal was served.
Just like Yun-ho had said, it was curry.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Mondays are curry. He filed it away in his head.
Lee Jun sat down and picked up his spoon.
"See? The carrots are huge, right?"
Across from him, Chae-rin poked at a carrot with her chopsticks.
Ѐn.um а̀
To Lee Jun, all the other ingredients looked about the same size.
"They're fine to me."
Lee Jun ate the carrot.
"Really?! Carrots taste good?"
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"They're not bad."
"Jun's weird."
Е n u̇ m а̇ .i d́
He'd lost count of how many times he'd heard that today.
Beside him, Yun-ho shoveled down curry and asked,
"Lee Jun, did you know there's drawing time in the afternoon?"
"Drawing time?"
Lee Jun's spoon stopped dead.
"Yeah. After we eat lunch, we draw."
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"Every day?"
"Yeah. Every day."
Lee Jun's eyes turned serious.
"Really?"
"For real. Why?"
Lee Jun didn't answer.
Е̇ n̈ um_а
Instead he started eating his curry fast. Definitely faster than before.
Beside him, Ha-eun said,
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"Why're you eating so fast all of a sudden?"
"If I eat fast, I can draw sooner."
"You only draw after lunch's over. There's still time left, you know?"
Lee Jun wasn't listening. His spoon got busy.
Е n.ü m̆а . і̂d́
There was no sign now of the boy who that morning had told his aunt, 'Eat in a rush and you'll get a stomachache'.
Lunch ran an hour and a half in all.
Once lunch was done, the rest was free time.
The children raced around the classroom.
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Through it all, Lee Jun waited. Sitting still in his seat.
"Lee Jun, let's play!"
Е̄nu m̀ á
Yun-ho called out.
Lee Jun shook his head.
"I'll just sit here."
"Why?"
"I'm waiting for drawing time."
Yun-ho cocked his head and went off to the other kids.
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Lee Jun sat with both hands resting on the desk.
Empty hands. No pencil, no brush.
He wished drawing time would hurry up and come.
That was the only thing on Lee Jun's mind.
[Settle down a little. You're bouncing your leg.]
He hadn't noticed. His leg was jiggling.
Е ňum̌ ӑ . ĩd́
He'd never gone this long waiting without drawing. It was drawing withdrawal.
"Okaaay everyone, it's drawing time!"
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the teacher said.
The moment had finally come. Lee Jun's back straightened right up.
The teacher passed out drawing paper. The big quarter-cut size.
Not canvas but paper. But it didn't matter. Anything, as long as he could draw.
W е b n оvēl E ǹ ǔ ḿ.ӓ
Then he passed a small box to each of them.
A box was set down in front of Lee Jun too.
He cracked the lid open a little.
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, purple.
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Colors lying side by side.
These were familiar to Lee Jun as well.
W̄ӗ b n о̆v е̃ľ Е n̆ ů m а
"Crayons!"
The tool he hadn't touched once since he'd started oil painting.
Lee Jun's eyes sparkled.
*****
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