I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy-Chapter 103

It was comforting in a way, though it also left me feeling slightly disappointed. I mean, I’ve even been on the news, you know.

‘Ah, do I really have to get on another plane?’

As soon as I left the hospital, this entirely pointless thought came to mind.

***

[Sara] and [Cerberus].

With [Phoenix] nearing completion as well, winter was already in sight.

I hadn’t even been here that long, or so it seemed.

"...What’s that about? Has your body started pumping out estrogen or something?"

"What nonsense are you on about now?"

Not long ago, Choi Ye-Seo’s birthday had passed. She’d made a wish during the celebration, but…

Hmm. I didn’t feel like saying it out loud.

The thought of walking around in this form to fulfill it had been nerve-wracking.

Thankfully, nobody seemed to pay attention to me, but my overactive self-consciousness kept making me feel like everyone was staring.

"Anyway, how does it feel?"

"...Doesn’t make much of a difference, really."

I figured as much. Even if I fixed up its home, as long as it had a place to sleep, [Phoenix] would be fine with anything.

‘What more could I expect from it?’

Sighing internally, I sat down next to it. The vast sky stretched endlessly above us.

Clouds drifted by here and there, though I had no idea where they’d come from.

On the peak of a rocky mountain rising into the sky, we perched together, encapsulated within a moderate-sized iris of its fiery feathers.

Its previous state? There was no need to describe it.

If I had to compare, maybe it was like the sky Sara often gazed at. At least, that’s how I saw it.

I stared blankly at the horizon that stretched into eternity before closing my eyes.

The day I first met this creature came to mind.

At my master’s suggestion, I had adopted a parrot.

The idea was that its chatter might keep me from feeling bored.

That naïve thought changed one fateful day.

—"Idiot." —"...? I never said anything like that." —"Idiot."

At first, I thought it was just random squawking, but after that incident, I realized this parrot wasn’t ordinary.

—"That’s not how you do it." —"What the—am I seriously getting advice from a parrot now?" —"Moron." —"...?"

I bragged about it to everyone in the neighborhood, calling my parrot a genius.

Even my master, who visited occasionally, seemed to enjoy its antics.

Since it was a creature from nature, I guess my master felt some sort of inner connection to it. The two of them got along unusually well.

But one day, the parrot, who always had something to say, suddenly fell silent.

Worried it might be sick, I took it to the vet, but they couldn’t find anything wrong.

Back home, I stared at it, puzzled, until it finally spoke again.

—"It’s too much trouble." —"...?"

Did I hear that right? My parrot had apparently succumbed to laziness.

Not that it stopped eating or breathing—it was just tired of talking and moving.

It wasn’t quite the same situation as my previous masterpieces.

Still, there was a reason I had painted it.

—"Hmm. About three months left." —"Is there no way to extend that?" —"If only you’d brought it in for a check-up when you first got it…" —"......"

Well, there was no one to blame but myself.

Like Sara, it had a life shortened by illness.

And creating a painting to preserve that life was an incredibly difficult task.

—"Crying, are we?" —"I’m not crying. Eat your food. You’ll feel better."

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It was just… something. Whether it was a dog or a parrot, they weren’t humans, but I couldn’t help caring.

Emotions are unpredictable. We’re not AI, after all. The short time I’d spent with it had formed a bond, and there was no avoiding the sadness that came with that.

That’s what connections are—they’re meant to be let go of when the time comes. It’s a lesson learned from experience.

I sent it off with dignity, building a small grave. This time, I hoped it wouldn’t get washed away by the rain.

Sniffling once, I shook myself out of the past. Dwelling on it wouldn’t bring me anything useful.

Scratching the back of my head, I looked at [Phoenix].

"By the way, what would happen if I plucked your feathers to make a pillow?"

Given its love for sleep, I figured it might have tried something like that before.

"That…? As far as I remember, it was just a warm pillow…"

So the pillow didn’t catch fire. And wow, it had actually done it before. I’d just been joking.

"Stop sleeping all the time. Move around a bit. That’s how you died in the first place."

"Sorry, but… I don’t have that memory."

Masterpieces are aware of how they were created—of their inspirations and subjects.

But that doesn’t mean they carry the memories of others exactly as they are.

They are entirely separate. I can never become them, but I can draw them.

And now here we were.

Sighing once more, I stood up. If someone else came to visit it, [Phoenix] wouldn’t attack them unless they were a nuisance.

Even society knew that much about it.

"I’m heading out. Today probably won’t be the last time, but it’ll be a while before we meet again."

Because the work on [Phoenix] was nearly finished. Once that was done, I’d have no reason to stay in China.

Next stop? France. That was the only place left.

"Yawn… Take care…"

At least it bid me farewell. That was enough for me.

‘My life… If someone saw this from the outside, they’d probably pity me.’

I stepped outside to finish the final touches.

Once again, with a face that looked drained of life, I started moving my hands.

***

"Tsk. I was getting attached..."

"Not me. Climbing up to the third floor was such a pain."

Next to me, Yoon frowned as she packed her luggage and looked up at the house.

We weren’t selling the house, but who knew when we’d be back here again?

A promise to return someday lingered silently in the air as Yoon closed her eyes.

Watching my little sister, I couldn’t help but wonder if I lacked sensitivity.

‘This is why F-types are like this.’

Shaking my head, I massaged the back of my neck and glanced at the boy beside me—my master. I posed a question to him.

"Care to join us?"

"Hm. I’d like to, but I still have unfinished business here."

Same old formal speech. Even when people told him to drop it, he wouldn’t.

It felt a bit like what people in live streams call RP—role-playing. Like he was committed to maintaining some kind of character.

"The next time we meet, it’ll probably be at the Louvre, not Korea."

"Ugh. Can’t you take care of [Angel] for me, Master? What if I die over there?"

"You’ve grown cheeky, haven’t you?"

It was a joke, but I couldn’t deny a tiny sliver of hope.

As I clicked my tongue in disappointment, I heard someone call out.

"Kids! Let’s go!"

The adults were rounding up the children and loading them into the car.

For the record, according to the exchange program rules, we were supposed to move as a group.

Behind me stood the chairman, overseeing everything as usual.

Of course, the chairman left with Teacher Xiao and the other students, including the visiting teacher.

Teacher Xiao had wanted to thank us for finding Rou Hua, but we politely declined any offers of repayment.

Maybe in China that wouldn’t have raised eyebrows, but accepting something like that still felt awkward.

It felt like the government’s watchful eyes were everywhere.

Anyway, because of all this, the chairman decided to see us off at the airport.

‘I noticed he and the teacher seemed to get along. Could it be…?’

I’d have to casually ask about it when we met at the airport later.

After all, we’d be on the same flight.

"Let’s give a round of applause to my legs for climbing to the third floor all this time."

How many stairs could there really be? Then again, that depends on the person.

Some people take the elevator even when it’s just one floor.

Compared to that, my complaints were just playful grumbling, right?

"You weren’t even home most of the time, oppa. You were always holed up in your studio."

"Hey, I still slept at home twice a week, didn’t I?"

As I neared the end of a project, I started spending less time at home.

Still, once a project was finished, things always returned to normal, so my family never made a big deal out of it.

There was just one condition: whenever I stayed in the studio, at least two people had to stay with me.

That’s how I ended up getting completely drained by Ha Soo-Yul, Choi Ye-Seo, and Hong Ye-Hwa.

Hopefully, this would be the last time I had to go through that… Well, there’s one more thing left, but for me, this felt like the end.

‘Then again, Master will probably step in before I do.’

[Angel]. I painted it, but I couldn’t make sense of it.

So I decided to leave it to my master. Now that he had a younger body, I figured he could suffer for his disciple’s sake at least once.

‘Come to think of it, isn’t all of this Master’s fault?’

He’s the one who moved all the masterpieces without asking.

I didn’t resent his decision, but I couldn’t help sighing about it.

Someday, I swear I’ll curse him with hair loss.

"Shall we go?" I asked.

Taking my sister’s hand, I climbed into the car Dad had brought.

My little sister, Lee Ha-Yoon, wasn’t so little anymore.

She was going to surpass my height soon. And here I was, stuck at 174 cm.

‘Tsk.’

When we get back to Korea, the first thing I’ll do is make her carry a heavy backpack.

If I don’t, I might stop feeling like her older brother entirely.