52 – Da Capo(4) 52.
The Kim Taeyoung I remembered fit the word "flashy" perfectly, and I didn't just mean his stage mannerisms.
The clothes he wore day to day, the way he spoke and carried himself in interviews—everything about him was flashy. But that didn't mean he had a celebrity complex.
He was always cheerful. He never once said anything that would upset fans, never once showed them a tired or worn-out side, and if anything, he did his best to grant their requests.
But even Kim Taeyoung had one request he never granted: playing the piano.
A piano prodigy who swept every competition. Of course fans wanted to hear him play.
Yet he never agreed to that one thing. He wouldn't even sit in front of a piano as a joke.
Back then, I didn't know why he avoided it so stubbornly.
Now, I did.
Before I asked him to play, I agonized over it for a long time. What if I was just bothering him? What if my selfishness made things harder for him?
But this song was Kim Taeyoung's song. A song where he said goodbye to his past. That was why we needed his piano.
After school, I got on the bus with Kim Taeyoung and headed to the studio. Normally, he would be loud and talkative, but today he was strangely quiet.
He kept his mouth closed, focused on something. His fingers, resting on his lap, tapped lightly, as if he were playing the piano.
By the time I noticed, we were already at our stop.
"We're here."
"Huh? Already?"
Kim Taeyoung stood up. After we got off the bus, he started walking toward the studio.
He had said the place he booked was run by the teacher who had taught him piano. We walked for a while.
Eventually, we arrived in front of a huge building.
…This place was insane.
Even from the outside, you could feel the luxury radiating off it. Why was a studio this fancy? Was this a studio, or an entertainment agency? ROC Entertainment looked shabby in comparison.
I hesitated for a moment, overwhelmed by the exterior, when Kim Taeyoung spoke.
"What are you doing? Let's go in."
I nodded and followed him inside.
The interior looked less like a studio and more like an academy. There were rooms that resembled classrooms, and students were talking to each other in the waiting area.
But their gazes felt strange.
Without exception, every single one of them stared at Kim Taeyoung.
Honestly, that part was only natural. In the piano world, Kim Taeyoung was unbelievably famous. What was strange was how they looked at him. Their eyes weren't kind. They looked displeased, whispering while they stared.
It started to irritate me, but Kim Taeyoung looked completely indifferent, unfazed.
And that felt off.
It was Kim Taeyoung, but he didn't feel like Kim Taeyoung. He reminded me of Han Goyo.
Still in that state, Kim Taeyoung headed to the basement. We went down what felt like a long staircase, then he opened a tightly shut door. A fairly large recording studio appeared.
"Here."
For some reason, his voice sounded unfamiliar. Instead of replying, I nodded and looked around.
In the center sat a grand piano, with several microphones set up around it.
Did he prepare everything in advance?
So do we just start recording?
As that thought crossed my mind, the studio door opened and a man walked in. He looked to be in his forties. When he saw Kim Taeyoung, a fleeting sorrow passed over his face.
But it didn't last.
In the next instant, he smiled and greeted him.
"You're here?"
"Ah, teacher."
So this was the man who had taught Kim Taeyoung piano. Was his name Kim Junho? Taeyoung had said he was very famous—a famous pianist and tuner.
"I'm sorry for making such a demanding request," Taeyoung said.
"Demanding?" Kim Junho replied. "I told you not to feel pressured."
"Haha."
Kim Taeyoung gave an awkward smile. He looked uncomfortable.
Seeing that, Kim Junho let out a quiet sigh.
"I tuned it perfectly, just the way you used to like it."
"Thank you."
"Are you going to start recording right away?"
"Yes."
"Then… is it okay if I listen for a bit?"
Kim Junho asked carefully. Kim Taeyoung hesitated, then nodded. Kim Junho smiled.
Then he turned to me.
"You're Hajun, right? The one who made the song for Taeyoung?"
"Ah, yes. Hello."
I was about to nod when a hand suddenly shot out. Startled, I quickly extended my own hand and took his.
"Thank you," Kim Junho said, holding my hand.
…Thank me?
For what?
§ § §
In front of the grand piano, Kim Taeyoung sat down carefully.
It had been a long time since he sat in front of a piano. Slowly, he lowered his head and looked at the keys—black and white, colors that had once meant everything to him.
"Phew."
A deep sigh slipped out as he stared. He never thought he'd sit here again.
He straightened his back.
Even though it had been so long since he sat on this bench, it felt strangely familiar. Of course it would. Kim Junho must have set everything up exactly how Taeyoung used to like it.
Kim Taeyoung looked over to where Kim Junho and I stood, then fixed his gaze on me. I wore the same sleepy expression I always did.
For some reason, that annoyed him.
The only reason he was sitting here right now was because of me. When I first asked him to play the piano, he tried to refuse.
Kim Taeyoung acted thoughtless most of the time, but that didn't mean he actually had no thoughts. He had spent a long time thinking, and most of those thoughts were about the piano.
This instrument that once meant everything to him. Maybe, by some miracle, his arm would recover and he could play again. Or maybe even now, in this condition, he could still manage to play well enough.
Thoughts like that kept surfacing.
He knew they were ridiculous. He also knew it was just lingering attachment. That was why he forced them down and pretended not to care. Otherwise, it hurt too much.
So he tried to refuse.
But he couldn't.
There were several reasons.
First, the song I asked him to play wasn't just anyone's song. It was his song.
Second, I knew his situation perfectly well and still asked.
And lastly, he never got to say goodbye to the piano.
Because of an accident, he had to quit suddenly. He had to leave without even one last performance.
That regret remained.
So he accepted my request—not because of someone else's will, not because of the accident, but because he wanted to let go of the piano by his own choice.
So this is my last piano performance.
Gently, Kim Taeyoung placed his right hand on the keys.
The song I sent him was one he truly liked. Not because I was his friend—the song itself was genuinely beautiful.
Is this really my song? Do I even deserve to sing something like this?
That was how he felt at first. But the more he listened, the deeper he sank into it, and the doubt turned into certainty.
This is my song.
A song born for him alone.
The title I gave it—
Da Capo.
Go back to the beginning and play again.
That meaning was embedded in the song. Return to the beginning. Return to the moment you first played the piano. Look back on that irreversible past and say goodbye. Let go. Stop holding on.
Cruel bastard.
Did I think it was easy? Did I think he hadn't thought of it?
He thought about it thousands, tens of thousands of times a day. But what was he supposed to do when it never happened?
His right hand rested on the keys. His fingers began to move.
Watching those fingers move, I drew in a breath.
They said Kim Taeyoung's playing could heal people's hearts. The first time I heard that, I didn't understand what it meant.
Sure, even with the same piano, different pianists sounded different. Even with the same song, interpretation changed the performance. I knew that much.
But healing? That sounded like emotional nonsense.
Yet the moment I actually heard him play, I understood.
Kim Taeyoung's playing was incredibly gentle—the soft press of the pedal, the way his fingers touched the keys, even the expression he wore while playing. Everything about it was gentle and kind.
Ah. So this was the piano that healed hearts.
All at once, I was in awe, and filled with regret.
Right now, Taeyoung was playing with only his right hand. The sound was lacking, and it felt unbearably sad.
If playing with one hand was already like this… how incredible would a complete performance be?
With that thought, I closed my eyes and let myself sink into the music.
The piece Taeyoung was playing was the song I composed—Da Capo, completed from fragments of inspiration from my past life.
Of course I had listened to it endlessly while composing, but the Da Capo Taeyoung played now felt unfamiliar.
Is this really the Da Capo I made?
In the quiet recording studio, filled with his performance, I simply kept my eyes closed and listened.
§ § §
"I don't like it."
On the first day of recording, after we finished, Kim Taeyoung grumbled.
At his complaint, I handed him a cold sports drink from the convenience store.
"What don't you like?"
"The piano. I guess I rested too long. It's not the sound I want."
Taeyoung stared at his right hand as he spoke, the same hand holding the drink.
It had been about a year since he quit piano. His hand didn't move the way he wanted. He practiced sometimes on an upright piano at home, but an upright and a grand piano were completely different.
"So you deleted everything you recorded today?"
"Yeah. It's my song. I can't play something that sloppy."
"…Sloppy."
Then what did that make me, who had almost been moved to tears by that "sloppy" playing?
I swallowed the thought. If Taeyoung said it was sloppy, then it was sloppy.
"So can you finish in the two days we have left?"
"Of course. I've at least got the feel for it now."
"Well, if you say so."
I looked up at the sky.
It would be November soon. That brutally cold winter was coming again. When I exhaled, my breath came out white.
"Winter's almost here."
"Yeah."
I first regressed in February, so it was almost a full year since regression.
I lowered my head.
Already a year.
Time really did pass fast.
Had I worked hard during that time? Did I get everything I wanted?
As I was thinking, I stood up.
This wouldn't do. I didn't have time to mope.
I lightly kicked Taeyoung's calf.
"This is your fault."
"Why are you picking a fight, psycho."
"It's just… a thing."
After hearing Taeyoung's playing, I'd gotten emotional. But I couldn't afford that.
I still had a lot to do.
First, once Taeyoung finished recording, I had to immediately finish recording Da Capo. After that, I had to record the Winter Festival song, then prepare the stage production.
And before all that, I still needed to find the third member for the Winter Festival.
As I thought about it, the phone in my pocket started ringing.
"What is it?"
Grumbling, I pulled it out.
The caller was Jin Sohyang.
Why was she calling all of a sudden?
"Hello?"
–Why aren't you checking your messages?
"Huh? Oh, I was in the recording studio."
–Recording studio? Were you recording your song? Ah, sorry for interrupting.
Her voice, sharp at first, softened instantly, like she was about to die of guilt.
I replied casually. "No, it's fine. We just finished. What's up?"
–I think I found the person you wanted.
"The bridge?"
–Yes. Goyo and I talked to them, but since you're the owner of the song, I thought you should meet them yourself. That's why I called.
"Can't I just meet them during the next performance class?"
–That's the problem. Seonghun is already trying to recruit this person, so I think you should decide quickly.
"Oh."
Someone both Jin Sohyang and Han Goyo approved of, and Kang Seonghun wanted?
"Ask them to meet tomorrow."
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