Chapter 20 – Really? Does This Make Sense?
One week after the surprise contest at Korea Animation High School.
Summer vacation was already racing toward its end.
“Okay, everyone—animation high prep class students, come to the director’s office one by one. Tell your parents to visit soon.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Students at entrance-exam academies were starting to strategize with teachers for animation high admission.
“Heh heh heh! Good taste.”
Someone pleasantly plump stacked snacks high and burned through the tail end of vacation reading comics.
“Comic World! Yeeesss!”
“Wow, insane—what’s that cosplay? The quality is fire.”
The girl who’d made bunnies out of cafeteria rice was now flaunting her otaku power at SETEC in Hakyeoul.
“Hey, hey, Kang Min-hyuk! That’s a dirty side shot!”
“Dirty? Winning’s all that matters.”
After a fierce battle, Kang Min-hyuk and Oh Seung-heon… were wrapping up their middle-school summer the classic way—at a PC bang playing <Gun Something>.
The only slight difference…
“Hey, wanna swing by Mr. Shin Pil-ho’s studio later?”
“Swing by? We’d just get in the way of work.”
“Get in the way? He said deadline ends today.”
“…Then maybe a quick visit?”
“Yeah, drop in, eat some ramen, read comics.”
“Deal.”
They’d gained a hangout—half hideout, half comic café.
Anyway, time flew like an arrow.
Soon…
The contest results day arrived.
Clink! Clink!
A massive living room with one entire wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.
Modern art paintings hung sporadically on the walls, mid-century furniture scattered about.
At the long dining table in the center, three people devoured visibly healthy meals.
One of them was the cat-like girl, Han Yu-ra.
Poking at salad and cheese with her fork, her face mixed discomfort and worry.
Just then—
“Han Yu-ra.”
A stern voice came from across the table.
Yu-ra flinched and looked straight ahead.
“…Yes?”
A middle-aged man with sharp features and white hair down to his waist.
Han Kyung-taek.
The master who’d drawn a bold stroke in Korean contemporary art with his signature frottage technique.
Behind him, his enormous portrait added an aura, making him look like the god of this space.
Kyung-taek stroked his chin and asked,
“How did that contest you entered turn out?”
“The… results come out today.”
Yu-ra answered with an awkward smile. Kyung-taek shook his head disapprovingly and sighed.
“I see. Tch… comics. You really shouldn’t waste time on that…”
The middle-aged woman beside him—who looked just like Yu-ra—smiled gently and said,
“Come on, honey. Don’t say it like that. Think how hard Yu-ra worked preparing for it.”
“That’s exactly why it’s pathetic. If she has time for lowbrow nonsense like comics, she should enter the National Art Competition again.”
“…”
Yu-ra’s lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but no words came.
Her mother continued with a sympathetic face,
“Still… cheer for her a little. Comics are a kind of drawing too, right?”
“Not all drawing is on the same level—that’s the problem.”
“Honey.”
Stubbornness filled Han Kyung-taek’s face.
“Put yourself in my shoes. My fellow artists’ kids are all studying abroad or busy with big things. And mine’s drawing comics in Korea, talking about animation high—how am I supposed to feel?”
“…”
“…Honey, I understand how you feel. But she likes it so much—do you have to say it like that?”
“If she doesn’t know any better, she should at least listen.”
Kyung-taek clicked his tongue. Yu-ra’s face darkened further.
Just then—
Clatter!
Yu-ra set down her fork and looked her father straight in the eye.
As if she’d made up her mind.
“I’m sorry, Father. For embarrassing you.”
“Now you say that? Hmph. Then quit that childish nonsense right now and go study abroad…”
“No, studying abroad is fine. I just… wanted you to take a look at something once.”
“Look? At what?”
“The comic I drew this time. Results come out in 30 minutes. It’ll be posted there… so please look at it. Even if it embarrasses you.”
“Why would I bother with that…”
Kyung-taek narrowed his eyes and sighed.
Yu-ra slowly stood and said,
“Thank you for the meal. I’ll go to my room. I’m a little tired.”
“Han Yu-ra.”
Her father’s voice carried anger from behind, but Yu-ra didn’t stop.
She climbed the stairs, walked to the end of the hallway, entered her room…
Click!
Locked the door, and sat on the bed.
She fidgeted with her feet, glancing around the room for no reason.
In one corner, neatly organized comics, ink, pens.
The only things in this house she could control.
“Lowbrow nonsense…”
Yu-ra pressed her fingers hard into her brow.
Her shoulders slumped; a sigh escaped.
—Yu-ra, if you win the grand prize in this contest… won’t Dad think differently?
—Really?
—Yeah, so… give it your all! No matter what, even Dad wouldn’t hate his daughter winning an award, right?
The hopeful conversation with Mom from weeks ago came back.
It only made her mouth taste more bitter.
“This isn’t easy.”
Suddenly, the comic she’d drawn for the contest— <Father God> —came to mind.
A priestess who went to extremes to gain recognition and attention from the god… but never achieved what she wanted.
Thinking about it felt like someone gripping her heart with both hands and squeezing.
But it didn’t matter.
‘The results will be out soon. Then… it’ll work.’
No matter how much her father looked down on comics and showed no interest…
If he heard his daughter won the grand prize, curiosity alone would make him read it at least once.
If she could prove her worth through that, have a conversation with the artist Han Kyung-taek through the comic, and validate herself… Yu-ra thought that would be enough.
Lost in thought like that…
Click!
The minute hand moved, pointing exactly to 1:00.
Yu-ra shot up, walked to her desk, and turned on the computer.
Click! Click!
She went straight to the Korea Animation High website.
[Notice – Korea Animation High Contest Winners Announced]
Taking a deep breath, she clicked the top post.
As she scrolled down—
“Huh?”
Yu-ra’s eyebrows twisted.
Because…
[Grand Prize (1) – Kang Min-hyuk “Chains That Connect Us”]
[Top Excellence Prize (1) – Han Yu-ra “Father God”]
[Excellence Prize (2)]
- Oh Dong-gyo “Mother Mother Mother”
- Kim Rok-hee “Cutie Parents”
Congratulations to the winners.
The winning comics will be posted on the Korea Animation High School blog—please show them lots of interest.
“What is this?”
Because in the grand prize spot… instead of her name, some random guy’s was written.
***
In the middle of a lush forest path, a woman walked.
She encountered a shadow in the center of the road.
A shadow whispering sweet words.
She took its hand and passed through the forest… her belly swelled.
The woman looked at the shadow with loving eyes, but the shadow—as if this wasn’t what it wanted—stepped back and vanished into the woods again.
A bewildering situation.
When the woman came to her senses—
[Where… am I?]
The lush surroundings had turned into a barren desert.
And not only that—
[Waaah! Waaaaah!]
Beside her lay a newborn baby.
The unusual part: a thick, tough chain connected her heart to the child’s.
Whoosh!
The woman held the baby and walked through the sandstorm-swept desert.
She cut thorny cacti with bare hands to find water.
[Grrrrowl!]
[Stay away!]
Facing beasts eyeing the child, she fought with a single club—her frail body against them.
Clothes torn, blood flowing from wounds.
But the woman didn’t retreat.
As if her own life didn’t matter—she desperately protected the child.
[Get lost! Get lost, you filthy things!]
She drove the beasts away in the end.
A tiny thorn had pierced the child’s body.
The woman held the baby, sobbed, and fell asleep from exhaustion.
In her dream, she saw the shadow again.
The cursed being who had bound her with this chain.
When she woke from that dream—
“Mom.”
The newborn from moments ago… was now a young child, tugging at her clothes.
The woman hugged the child with teary eyes and walked the desert again.
Like a noble pilgrim.
Taking the sandstorm head-on, protecting the child chained behind her.
No matter the hardship, the two never separated.
Because of the chain connecting them.
Because they were parent and child.
[Step, step, step.]
Mother and child kept walking the desert.
The child… grew little by little, soon reaching the mother’s shoulder.
They fought beasts together.
Sometimes the child stepped forward to help the woman.
Gradually, grass sprouted in the once-barren landscape… streams began to trickle here and there.
The woman’s face—once stained with fatigue and pain—now held a gentle smile, marked by time.
She sensed it.
[Yes… this is the way. This path… leads back to the forest I knew.]
Just a little farther, and instead of this wasteland… they could return to the world of greenery and birdsong where she once lived.
Then everything would be smooth.
Both she and the child could be happy there forever.
But the problem… appeared at a fork just before the forest.
[I’m going this way.]
[No, I know. We have to go this way.]
The woman clearly knew the path leading to the forest.
But the child—no, now a fully grown adult—wouldn’t listen.
Insisting their way was right, shouting arbitrarily, tugging at the mother’s body.
Their voices rose, and the chain between them grew increasingly rusted.
A chain so precarious it looked ready to snap any moment.
Was the woman afraid of that?
In the end… she followed the frightening, ominous path her child chose.
Soon, barren land appeared again.
Beasts reappeared.
The difference from the past:
Instead of her, her child… now led the way through this hardship.
[Let’s go back. It’s not too late. The forest is that way.]
Even as the woman pleaded and cried, the child wouldn’t listen.
As if possessed by something, they kept walking the desolate land.
The chain rusted further.
So precarious it seemed ready to break.
Snap!
Once, the chain actually broke.
When the child walked ahead alone.
The woman hurried after, reconnected it with another link, and scraped off the rust.
The child didn’t even notice—just kept pulling her forward.
The woman resigned herself.
Head bowed like a prisoner dragged by chains, she walked on.
[Where did it all go wrong?]
The scenery around the woman turned black.
A spotlight fell on her.
The shadow’s face surfaced in her mind.
Why had it come to this?
All sorts of emotions mixed, sprouting black mold-like spots on her body.
How much farther did they walk?
[Mom, we’re here.]
[Huh?]
Tap!
The child ahead tapped the woman’s shoulder.
She lifted her head—her face close-up, eyes wide in shock, reflecting the world.
The entire world was forest.
Birds chirping, blue sky, lush trees—a world more beautiful and vibrant than the one she remembered from the past.
The child looked at the stunned woman and said,
[Thank you. If it weren’t for you, Mom… I could never have made it here.]
The mold on her body vanished as if it had never been.
The woman’s eyes trembled.
Clear liquid welled up large in them.
Drip!
It fell to the ground.
And finally, the title appeared.
“Chains That Connect Us”
– Kang Min-hyuk –
***
In front of the computer.
Han Yu-ra’s hands trembled.
Clear liquid welled in her cat-like eyes.
Drip!
It fell onto the desk.
A face mixed with frustration and sadness—complex and subtle.
Han Yu-ra muttered one line,
“Who the hell… is this guy?”