“Even though I come here often, I still can’t get used to the crowds…”
Myeong-jeon let out an inward sigh. This place was overwhelming enough with people, but carrying a guitar made it feel like she was drawing even more attention. She could sense the stares from those around her.
“So many people,”
Seoha muttered as soon as she saw Myeong-jeon, seemingly feeling the same way.
“Why did you suggest coming here if you knew there’d be so many people?”
“I thought Hyuna unnie seemed stressed. I wanted to help her unwind.”
People get stressed from time to time—it’s just part of life. Do you really have to go out of your way to relieve every little bit of it? Kids these days… tch tch.
But aside from that, Myeong-jeon did feel the need to engage in activities like this. After all, a band was, in its way, a small society, and taking care of each other was necessary to some extent.
“I heard there didn’t used to be an Animate store in Hongdae. No otaku shops or anything like that.”
“Huh? Then where did people get merch?”
“They had to buy it from overseas.”
While pondering that thought, she overheard Seoha and Hyuna enthusiastically chatting in front of her. Hyuna, especially, seemed much more animated compared to earlier.
“Back in the day, there weren’t stores like Animate.
So, people either bought fan-made goods at conventions or visited a few scattered shops in Hongdae,” Hyuna explained, brimming with energy.
“Wow.”
“One of the legendary spots in Hongdae was a store called Volks or something? They sold ball-jointed dolls, but they also had figurines and Gundams.
Apparently, when someone bought a high-end doll, they’d close the shop, hold an event where they’d read a pledge, and everyone would clap to celebrate the adoption.”
“Seriously? That’s so romantic.”
Myeong-jeon glanced at Hyuna. Her eyes sparkled with excitement—it seemed like she really loved it when others took an interest in her hobbies.
That thought stayed with Myeong-jeon as they reached their destination. Hyuna, eyes still shining, excitedly darted around the store with Seoha, picking up items and eagerly explaining things.
“Wow, look at the size of this shop. Amazing. I’ve always thought about coming here but never actually made the trip… I should’ve come sooner.”
“You could’ve just come earlier, couldn’t you?”
“It’s not that easy to go to places like this alone…”
Seoha looked puzzled, and so did Myeong-jeon. But Hyuna, oblivious to their expressions, kept wandering around the store, muttering, “Amazing, amazing, this is insane,” while holding up various goods with a delighted look on her face.
“This…”
Amidst it all, Myeong-jeon picked up a manga. On the cover was a pink-haired girl holding a guitar. The guitar looked like a Les Paul Black Beauty… or was it a different model?
“That’s from the manga with the music we’re practicing for our band sessions!”
“Really? That’s interesting…”
Hyuna immediately latched onto Myeong-jeon, ready to explain.
“This manga is about the main character forming a band with three other girls and their journey managing the band.
It ties in a lot with Japanese live house culture, so there’s a lot of fascinating content.
The protagonist has social anxiety but is an incredible guitarist known as ‘Guitar Hero’ on YouTube…”
For some reason, Myeong-jeon felt like her ears were bleeding.
She put the manga back on the shelf.
“Not interested?”
“I’m not really into manga.”
Ignoring Hyuna’s disappointed expression, she turned her gaze to a small screen nearby.
It was quietly playing Rolling Stone, Morning Falls Upon You by Ajikan (Ajisai no Kimi).
“This… Seoha, didn’t you ask me to play this before?”
“Yeah.”
“Was this in the manga, too?”
In response to Seoha’s question, Hyuna and Seoha chimed in, explaining that it was used as the ending theme for episode 12.
Hyuna, in particular, passionately detailed the emotions behind the song and how it was performed.
It felt as though a bit of the mystery was solved—how a kid who didn’t seem all that interested in rock music knew a 15-year-old song.
Hyuna appeared visibly happier, as though she had let go of some stress.
At Seoha’s suggestion to grab some coffee, the group headed to a nearby café.
“Haah…”
“Now what?”
“Nothing… it’s fun to hang out, but thinking about our next performance makes me feel uneasy again.”
Hyuna suddenly blurted out a complaint.
Earlier, just seeing that crowded otaku haven made her wonder how much ordinary people must have sneered at them. She thought she had caught a few disdainful glances, too.
“That’s just your imagination, seriously.”
“Unnie, stop overthinking.”
Seoha gave her a look as if asking, What’s wrong with you again? Seoha shared the same sentiment.
But how was she supposed to ignore it? Telling someone not to think about something only makes them think about it more—Hyuna knew that, but it didn’t stop the thoughts from coming.
“Then how about we do an experiment?”
Unexpectedly, Ha Su-yeon spoke up. Experiment?
“…What kind of experiment?”
“Let’s see how much people actually care if you sing one of those otaku songs you were worried about.”
“What?”
Hyuna’s mind went blank for a moment.
What was Ha Su-yeon talking about? Singing an otaku song here to see how much attention it would draw? She couldn’t quite grasp what Ha Su-yeon was suggesting.
But Ha Su-yeon, as if she had a plan, went to a corner and started setting something up.
She opened her guitar case, leaned the guitar against the wall, and left the case open in front of her.
Then, she called Seoha over and whispered something.
“Humming? You want me to hum it?”
“You know the song, right?”
“Uh… I kinda know it, but… Are you seriously going to do this? Here? With all these people around?”
“So what?”
After a brief exchange, Ha Su-yeon cleared her throat. The ahem sounded unusually loud.
“Shouldn’t we stop her?”
“Why?”
Hyun-ah, feeling embarrassed by Ha Su-yeon’s actions, tried to strike up a conversation with Seo-ha.
However, Seo-ha responded as if it was nothing.
“Just watch.”
With Seo-ha’s words, Ha Su-yeon began humming.
The hum, replacing the opening guitar melody of the song, was sweet and soothing.
It was loud enough to make everyone around them turn their heads.
If possible, I want to repaint the world.
Not something as grand as ending wars.
But, well, maybe there’s a bit of that too.
As Ha Su-yeon started singing, Iseo hesitated behind her, blushing, before quietly joining in with a cappella.
People’s eyes focused on them.
At first, they seemed confused about what was happening, but soon their gaze wandered away.
At the end of their sight stood just two high school girls, dressed rather casually.
What did I get wrong?
I don’t even know that—rolling, rolling.
Even though I never had it to begin with, my chest hurts.
“She’s really good,” Hyun-ah thought from a distance.
She had bolted away from Seo-ha and Ha Su-yeon the moment Suyeon began humming.
Yet Seo-ha stood her ground.
‘There’s no way Ha Su-yeon knows this song… Or maybe she does, based on what she said to Iseo earlier?’
For some reason, Hyun-ah glanced around.
Perhaps because it was near the Hongdae Animate building, she noticed people who looked like they might have just been at Animate.
Some of them seemed uncomfortable, standing a bit away from Ha Su-yeon with expressions of distaste.
Much like Hyun-ah herself.
The rocks roll, taking us.
Somewhere, as if they were leading us.
They split the hard ground, and life sprouted.
But Ha Su-yeon didn’t care.
And the passersby didn’t seem to care much either.
Some paused near Ha Su-yeon, listening attentively.
Others tossed coins or bills into her guitar case.
A few even pulled out their phones to record or take photos.
The small red, red car
Takes you with it
Turning the corner far ahead
And from here,
It disappears from sight.
Ha Su-yeon’s voice spread gently yet powerfully, low and steady.
She stood her ground, as if to say, I am here. I do what I want. Nothing else matters.
With her eyes closed and fingers strumming, she seemed completely unconcerned about how others perceived her.
We will surely continue ahead,
Our hearts tangled,
As we begin to run, rolling through this frozen world.
Even after the lyrics ended, Ha Su-yeon’s voice continued, seamlessly humming the melody.
It was something not in the original song—something only Ha Su-yeon could reinterpret and bring to life.
Unconsciously, Hyun-ah stepped closer.
One step.
Then two, three, four.
When the song ended, a small round of applause followed.
Some dropped money into the guitar case.
Others clapped enthusiastically or exchanged a few words with Ha Su-yeon.
“How was it?”
Once the atmosphere returned to normal, Ha Su-yeon turned to ask Jeong Hyun-ah.
Hyun-ah couldn’t respond.
For some reason, words just wouldn’t come out.
At first, she had fled the scene.
Then, when she glanced around, she realized many others had done the same.
Why was that?
As Hyun-ah struggled to answer, Ha Su-yeon spoke again.
“People don’t care much about others.
If it’s music, they’ll listen if it’s good, and if not, they’ll just walk away.
Sure, there are those who’ll mock you.
Like, ‘Why is she doing that kind of music?’
Or, ‘This music is low-class.’
Or even, ‘It’s amateurish.’
There are plenty of those kinds of people.”
Ha Su-yeon’s tone had shifted to casual speech, losing its formal edge.
Yet the other three couldn’t help but feel that this was Ha Su-yeon’s true way of speaking.
“But there aren’t as many of those people as you think, and they’re not as influential as you’d imagine.
There will always be people who dislike you, no matter where you go.
Can you make everyone love you?
If you try to be kind to everyone you meet, someone will accuse you of being fake.
If you donate all your money, someone will call you a fool with no future.”
But right now, you’re overestimating their influence on you.
In reality, they can’t do anything to you. They can only talk, making judgments and comments.
Her words were cold, so cold it sent a shiver down your spine, a tone that contrasted sharply with the meaning.
Ha Su-yeon’s gaze seemed to look down on Jeong Hyun-ah.
Yet, the pressure from her words disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
“Think carefully. If you really can’t do it, I’ll cancel the festival. Take your time and think it over.”
With those words, Ha Su-yeon left. Iseo briefly followed her, then returned.
“Ha Su-yeon just left.”
“Yeah…”
Hyun-ah felt conflicted.
But at the same time, there was a sense of clarity, as if the tangled threads were starting to unravel, and somehow everything seemed to be resolving itself.
In reality, nothing had been solved.
Her worries still hadn’t been addressed.
If Hyun-ah went up on stage, there was still the chance that even the friends she had carefully kept at a distance would reject her in disgust.
There was also the lingering possibility that the label “otaku” would stick to her, and she’d become an outcast at school.
That possibility still remained.
Moreover, the song Ha Su-yeon had just sung wasn’t even an “otaku” song.
The original was a rock band song, wasn’t it? Something that seemed perfectly fine for a school festival performance.
But Ha Su-yeon’s attitude and actions… It felt as if she was saying that all the worries Hyun-ah had been grappling with were trivial and not worth the stress.
Her attitude made that seem true.
Even though nothing had been resolved, Hyun-ah felt like everything had somehow been fixed.
“Alright! Let’s do it. Let’s give it a shot.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to do it properly.”
Hyun-ah muttered resolutely. Iseo looked at her with warmth, but Seo-ha…
“Finally?”
She said, then bumped her shoulder into Hyun-ah’s.
You’ve got to see this next! [Game Life] Into The Anime will keep you on the edge of your seat. Start reading today!
Read : [Game Life] Into The Anime