Chapter 1

Reincarnation of a Prodigy © AvocadoChip

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1. Cantabile (Singing-like)

When playing the piano, one often hears about the realm of cantabile.

It refers to music that, as the name of the fermata suggests, evokes lyrics and stories when you close your eyes and listen, even though it is a piano piece without lyrics.

Frankly, I found it hard to understand how a piano could sing.

Until I heard his performance.

(Debussy. Arabesque No. 1)

The sweet and elegant melody filled the graduation hall of Mihyang Arts High School.

It was as if pollen was carried by the wind, spreading softly.

With my eyes closed, a variety of colors naturally came to mind.

The arpeggios that spread from his fingertips were undoubtedly showing me an image of sophisticated beauty.

The piano was singing.

It felt as if my dull ears, which had never been naturally gifted with perfect pitch or rhythm, were suddenly opened.

I was neither a person with perfect pitch nor a natural sense of rhythm.

I was just a common arts high school student, busy expressing the notes I saw on the sheet music.

For someone like me, having my ears opened was both a miracle and a curse.

The top graduate in music and piano, Kim Min-ho.

That day,

I ended up with a goal I could never catch up to in my life.

***

2026 Queen Elizabeth International Competition.

People call this competition, along with the Chopin and Tchaikovsky competitions, one of the world's top three competitions.

For pianists, it is the pinnacle of their dreams and the highest stage to make their name known, in Brussels, Belgium.

The man who caught the world's attention as one of the prestigious finalists was none other than Kim Min-ho, the top graduate who had opened my ears.

His always confident demeanor.

His expression was no different from the time when he had never lost first place at Mihyang Arts High School.

He neatly dressed and took the microphone.

-Mozart once said that music begins where language ends. At this Queen Elizabeth Competition, I will certainly show you my voice that transcends the boundaries of language.

With his chest puffed out and clear eyes,

Just by his presence and the way he spoke, it seemed that Kim Min-ho's aura was radiating.

Genius.

There is no better word to describe Kim Min-ho.

-...I will do my best.

Bowing deeply, Kim Min-ho left the live broadcast screen and headed to the waiting room.

Even after another pianist filled the screen, I was still transfixed, watching Min-ho's footsteps reflected in the corner of the monitor.

Boiling with admiration and desire.

I tried not to miss even the strong steps visible in the corner of the screen.

A whirlwind of emotions swirled in my chest.

He and I were in the same classroom.

We had received the same lessons, and although the results were drastically different, the domestic competitions we participated in were similar.

When did the gap become so wide?

I envied him.

I envied Kim Min-ho, who had already been attending master classes by famous maestros since elementary school.

I envied the boy who had already stood out and swept all the junior competitions by the time he was in the first year of middle school.

I envied the top graduate who, with a simple smile, could transform into a fierce beast at the piano.

I envied him so much that I felt like I was going to go crazy.

Kim Min-ho, who had already made it to the finals of the Queen Elizabeth Competition at the same age as me.

“I want to be like you.”

Without realizing it, the biggest wish that had been pounding in my chest came out of my mouth.

Late at night.

Even though I would be busy preparing for a performance with the orchestra I belong to all day tomorrow, I wanted to see it.

The voice that transcends language, which Kim Min-ho had mentioned.

3 AM.

With bloodshot eyes, I watched the final stage in a daze.

The moment Kim Min-ho placed his hands on the keys,

a cold winter wind blew through the warm Brussels summer night.

***

“Okay! Mr. Seong-hyun, can you lower the volume a bit? Hmm, that’s it! Yes, let’s try it again?”

I, the pianist of the ‘Philharmonic Orchestra,’ the best orchestra in the country, relaxed my fingers even more.

The resounding concerto.

The woodwinds and strings harmonized with my accompaniment.

“Good. Let’s do it again from here!”

The passionate conducting and the performance of over forty people were beautiful. They were definitely beautiful, but

The performance I had heard while dozing off in the early morning kept echoing in my ears.

“Mr. Seong-hyun?”

The conductor, with a fierce glare, forced me to face the reality in front of me.

“I know your performance is excellent, Mr. Seong-hyun. But you know this part should highlight the oboe, right?”

“Ah...”

“You seem less focused today. Is something wrong?”

“No, I will focus.”

I bowed deeply and sighed so no one could hear.

The moment I became a member of the orchestra,

‘My performance’ became a desire I had to let go.

What the orchestra values is not a single, outstanding technique but a harmonious blend of sounds.

Naturally, I had to put aside my interpretation of the piece and the techniques I wanted to showcase.

And I was almost becoming the kind of pianist the conductor wanted.

Six months since joining the orchestra,

I had become adept at naturally inserting a colorless and odorless performance.

The more I did this, the more colorful the concerto became, and the more my performance turned monochrome.

While Kim Min-ho was heading in the opposite direction, I was steadily moving in the opposite direction.

Cantabile (Singing-like)

In a direction that took me further away from the realm I had longed for.

Still, I thought it wasn’t bad.

At thirty-three, Seong-hyun, a cog in the orchestra.

At this age, what could I do if I left the orchestra now?

The orchestra paid well, allowing me to be filial to my parents and stand out at Mihyang Arts High School alumni gatherings.

“Well, what can I sing at my level?”

Muttering these words, I finished my can of coffee.

That day, the bitter taste was particularly strong in the sugar-laden coffee.

Fortunately, the orchestra's concerto was a great success and received much praise.

Especially, the composer Maurice, who had been a judge at the International Chopin Piano Competition, praised me as a ‘heavenly accompanist,’ and this was reported, making the name Seong-hyun known.

After that,

I began to be called to various solo recitals as an accompanist for a famous violinist, a junior from the same Mihyang Arts High School.

‘He knows how to highlight the main performer.’

‘He has a considerate tone for the performers.’

‘His piano, which changes colorfully depending on who he is playing for, is almost the alpha of accompanists.’

Various performers praised me.

Although I didn’t reach the level of being well-known to the general public like pianist Kim Min-ho, my name became established as a known accompanist.

Clearly, they were praises,

But strangely, I wasn’t happy. It felt like I had become an actor who would always play supporting roles.

The luxury that filled me, the sweet wine, strangely didn’t quench my thirst.

I received praise.

I received business cards.

I was invited to concerts.

I was even offered a professorship.

They all asked me how I could so skillfully adapt to others' music.

But the performance that had opened my ears was not like that.

2026 Queen Elizabeth International Competition.

Turning on the recording of the competition that had already been four years ago.

The confident steps of the soloist, Kim Min-ho, walking onto the stage.

His fingers dancing on the lonely stage, the beautiful winter wind and ice flowers blooming from them.

“Phew.”

Only then did I feel my breath unblocked.

The sensation of a fresh, cool color spreading in a suffocating monochrome world.

It was truly the performance I had endlessly longed for.

Is this the life of a commoner looking at a genius?

Is this the terrifying suffocation of trying to follow the path a genius walks?

If this was going to happen, I wish I hadn’t heard his performance.

The next day, I left the orchestra where I had been for over four years.

The concerto hall I could walk out of with my eyes closed.

The conductor looked bewildered, and some of the performers I had played with clicked their tongues, saying I was full of myself.

I understood their feelings and the reasons for their reactions.

But it was suffocating.

The more I went, the more my chest felt constricted, as if I were suffocating.

Crunch,

While walking absentmindedly, I stepped on something.

It was snowing.

The season was already winter.

(Chopin. Etude No. 11)

Naturally, Kim Min-ho’s ‘Winter Wind’ brushed past my ears.

The piercing wind and white snowflakes blended together. It was definitely a cutting cold wind, but there was a mysterious warmth in its sound.

I walked aimlessly, and although my whole body was shivering, I wasn’t suffocating anymore.

Then, a noise overlapped with Kim Min-ho’s ‘Winter Wind.’

The harmony and keying were a mess.

The pressure and the pedal were so chaotic that it took a while to realize it was a piano sound.

Still, I was drawn to the piano sound, just as I had been when listening to Kim Min-ho’s performance.

A small window under a beautiful stained glass.

Through the half-open window, I could see a child’s hands playing the keys.

The child was playing the piano and laughing in a church filled with warm, orange light.

Just like when I had once held my mother’s hand and gone to a church.

Ding-

A soft high note of the piano swept past me.

A smile so warm and beautiful.

It was a piano played purely for enjoyment.

What I had forgotten was right there.

“Can I try playing, sir?”

When I came to my senses, I was already in the church, speaking to the child.

Then, I suddenly wondered what I would do if the child started crying.

“Can you play the piano, sir? You can’t play this, right? It’s really hard!”

Fortunately, the child answered me with a friendly smile, and I found myself smiling at the cute sight.

“Is that so? Then I’ll have to try my best.”

The child moved the chair with a “Eek” and I sat down at the piano.

The sheet music was a simple carol.

I improvised on the spot, playing it elaborately but softly.

When I added a bit of strength to the accompaniment supporting the main melody, an exclamation came from beside me.

“Wow!”

Turning to the child, I saw a little one looking at me with bright, shining eyes.

Soon, the child, looking at me in amazement, started singing along with the melody the piano produced.

“At Christmas, we give blessings—At Christmas, we give love—”

Ah, that’s right.

Today is Christmas.

They say you should make a wish on Christmas.

If,

It’s an absurd story, but if, by some chance, I could go back to the past.

I want to sing with the piano.

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