After Shunji, who had been watching Chae Hayoung with Yeonwoo, left for his accommodation, Jiyoung—returning from an errand—was startled by her mother’s words and asked:
“So the CEO of JOP said Yeonwoo’s homeroom teacher would make it big in Japan?”
“Yes. He seemed thoroughly captivated.”
“That much? When I watched her YouTube videos with Yeonwoo before, she didn’t seem that remarkable.”
“No, she’s genuinely skilled.”
“Oh…!”
Even considering the differences between Korea’s and Japan’s music industries, potential recognized by someone of Shunji’s caliber couldn’t be dismissed.
“Yeonwoo wants to turn her into a singer. Should we really attempt it?”
“No, that old man likely wants to debut her in Japan. He thinks she’ll resonate there rather than here.”
“Really?”
“Her vibe resembles Japan’s most iconic 80s singer.”
“Mitsuda Seriko?”
“There was one singer who rivaled Mitsuda. That’s her.”
“Ah, I think I’ve heard the name. Anyway, retro’s trending in Japan too. A debut with that concept could work, right?”
“Exactly.”
Jiyoung grew more intrigued.
So what if she couldn’t debut in Korea?
If the artist herself consented, a Japanese debut wasn’t unfavorable.
Why else would Korean idols and singers tirelessly pursue Japan?
The market was larger and more lucrative than Korea’s.
With China now virtually inaccessible, Japan’s value had soared further.
These days, Korean agencies even launched idols specifically targeting Japan’s domestic market.
If idols could break through, why not a singer?
Especially one affiliated with JOP.
A major agency’s backing held weight in either country.
“I’ll ask Yeonwoo tomorrow when she wakes up.”
The next day, Jiyoung and Yeonwoo chatted over snacks in the studio as usual after daycare.
“Grandpa Shunji wants to debut your teacher in Japan. What do you think?”
Yeonwoo—solemnly contemplating her egg tart before finally deciding to eat it—paused and declared firmly:
“No.”
“Huh?”
“Even if we go to Japan, her debut must happen in Korea.”
“Why? Grandpa Shunji said she wouldn’t catch on here.”
Yeonwoo shook her head.
Jiyoung instantly recognized the signs—Yeonwoo was digging in.
The clenched lips, widened eyes, flushed cheeks sharpening her usually soft face.
This was Yeonwoo’s trademark stubborn expression.
“Grandpa Shunji might seem eccentric, but he’s hailed as Japan’s top talent scout. Listening to him wouldn’t hurt.”
“I’m the composer who made Kim Beom-shin number one.”
“Hmm…”
Jiyoung bit back the remark that his songs’ wild success stemmed from their sheer quality—after all, that still proved his producing prowess.
“Fine! Let’s start a company and get Grandpa Shunji’s investment to debut her!”
What was there to lose?
Even failure meant nothing. Failure mothered success! Yeonwoo needed that experience anyway!
“But debuting Teacher Chae Hayoung in Korea must wait.”
“Why?”
“Grandpa Shunji’s company needs time to establish a Korean branch. Investment follows afterward. Only then can we nurture artists.”
Yeonwoo puffed her cheeks.
“More grown-up complications?”
“It’s unavoidable. Until then, let’s boost our fame through other projects.”
“Do we have to?”
“More fame means more eyes on Teacher Chae when she debuts later. You understand what that implies?”
“So Teacher Chae can become famous faster?”
“Exactly.”
Yeonwoo’s enthusiasm visibly deflated.
She’d assumed they could debut Teacher Chae immediately.
Adult affairs proved more tangled than she’d imagined.
Yet surrender wasn’t an option.
“Can we… at least let her practice in our studio for now?”
“I’ll discuss it. Will that suffice temporarily?”
“Mhm. For now.”
Yeonwoo rose from her seat.
“Where are you going?”
"I'm going to make a song!"
"Really?"
"Yeah, I need to get famous quick."
Even after declaring this and retreating to his room, Yeonwoo didn't compose anything.
He opened YouTube and scrolled through countless singers' videos.
Truthfully, he'd already completed 15 songs after meeting Himari and rearranging them with fresh inspiration.
But around this time, Yeonwoo realized songs alone weren't enough.
A good song only shines when paired with strong lyrics and the right singer.
This was the lesson Shunji's fairy had taught him.
Reflecting further, Yeonwoo recognized he'd never single-handedly made anyone successful.
While he'd given Kim Beom-shin a comeback hit, the singer's own efforts in refining lyrics and perfecting his delivery had been crucial.
And Hadas?
For Hadas, Yeonwoo had merely written one song.
Her success came from Ellis - that exceptional producer who selected five BSK trainees and matched them with the right track.
Yeonwoo's only contribution was writing a good enough song to catch Ellis' attention.
(Though he later assisted their recording using Kim Beom-shin's fairy powers.)
Watching these collaborations unfold, Yeonwoo's desire to nurture his own artist grew stronger.
But since that wasn't feasible now, he wandered endlessly seeking vocalists suited to his compositions.
His ideal? A performer so radiant they'd make yellow fairies burst forth, glowing bright enough to dazzle the eyes.
That's when it happened.
"[Yeonwoo!! Where are you, Yeonwoo?!]"
Grandpa Shunji's familiar Japanese boomed from outside.
Yeonwoo cracked his door open, peeking out timidly.
"Grandpa Shunji?"
The towering old man spotted him and marched over.
"[You said you wanted to debut your teacher in Korea rather than Japan, yes?]"
"...?"
Yeonwoo tilted his head in confusion.
"Ah...!"
Not again.
He'd forgotten the interpreter.
"Hey, we'll hit 30,000 subscribers soon."
At Jo So-yeon's declaration, Chae Ha-young perked up.
"Are we doing that well?"
"Not really. Just saying."
"...Should we quit?"
"Quit what?!"
Jo So-yeon exploded, grabbing Ha-young's shoulders and shaking her.
"Don't you see? We're primed to go viral! Bam! Thirty thousand subs without promotions or algorithm favors? That's incredible! They came just for your voice!"
"Okay, okay! Let go!"
Releasing her, Jo So-yeon grumbled, "You quit too fast. Gave up singing after graduation to become some piano teacher."
"...I knew it wouldn't work."
"Blindly trusting that professor's nonsense doesn't help! Since when were they always right?"
"That's not..."
Though frustrated, Jo So-yeon quickly cooled down.
Ha-young wasn't naturally defeatist - family circumstances had forced her resignation.
"Just wait. When we blow up, don't you dare ignore me!"
"Why would I?"
Their laughter chimed together until Ha-young's phone rang.
"Huh? The director?"
"Why would Mom call?"
"Unknown number."
"Troublesome parent?"
"Unlikely... Hello?"
Ha-young never ignored calls - emergencies with students happened.
"Ms. Han Chaeyoung?"
"Yes, sorry - who's calling?"
"It's Shin Ji-young! Yeonwoo's aunt? I gave you my card."
"...Senior!"
"Senior?"
"I'm your junior from the same department, class of XX!"
"Oh! A fellow alumna! I didn't know."
"Was there... something urgent with Yeonwoo?"
"No, this isn't about him."
It's not because of Yeonwoo?
Then why did you call me?
For some reason, Chae Hayoung's heart was racing.
Was it because she was talking to such an esteemed senior?
Or was it anticipation for something else?
"If you’re free after work today, could you stop by my studio? I’d like to discuss something related to music."
"Ah, yes, sunbaenim (senior)! I’ll be there!"
Chae Hayoung hung up the phone and turned to Jo Soyeon.
"What’s going on? Who’s this sunbaenim (senior)?"
"Yeonwoo’s aunt. She wants to meet me."
"Huh? Why? What for? Did something happen with Yeonwoo?"
"It’s not about Yeonwoo… Oh, right. I never told you? Yeonwoo’s aunt is our university sunbaenim. She’s a famous producer—the one who developed Daydream."
"What? Seriously? Why would someone like that want to meet you?"
"No idea! But there’s something… yeah, there’s definitely something brewing!"
Seeing Chae Hayoung’s excitement, Jo Soyeon caught the energy and clapped like an eager seal.
"There really is something going on! Are you gonna debut as a singer or something?"
"Let’s not jump to conclusions. We should head to work first."
Chae Hayoung tucked her fluttering heart away and left for work with Jo Soyeon.
The usual daily routine began.
On hectic days, time normally flies unnoticed, but today it crawled strangely.
Still, it passed.
Just as she wondered why the clock seemed stuck, it was already time to send the children home—including Yeonwoo.
"Goodbye, sunbaenim (senior)."
"Goodbye, junior. Don’t forget… after work today."
As if hypnotized, Chae Hayoung nodded. With Jo Soyeon’s help, she left work slightly earlier than usual.
She followed the address on the business card.
"It’s practically next door."
After staring at the building—home to the convenience store she frequented during late shifts—she stepped inside.
The slightly aged entrance bore a sign reading "SSHIN."
Swallowing her nervousness, she pressed the doorbell.
The door swung open instantly.
Chae Hayoung cautiously peeked inside.
"Excuse me… Ah!"
"Teacher!!"
Yeonwoo was the first to greet her.
"Yeonwoo, you’re here too?"
"Yes!"
He seemed entirely different here. Around the children, he was quiet and mature, but here he was purely a child—grinning brightly, voice louder and more vibrant.
"Come in, teacher! This is my aunt’s and my studio."
"Is it okay to enter?"
"Of course! This is the living room. We host guests, relax, eat meals—everything here."
Yeonwoo chattered nonstop as he gave a tour, far more talkative than usual.
Despite the building’s worn exterior, the studio inside was sleek and modern.
"You made it?"
"Ah! Hello, sunbaenim (senior)! I’m Chae Hayoung from class XX!"
"Please, drop the formality. It’s awkward. Sit here."
Chae Hayoung took her seat at the table while Yeonwoo and Jiyoung sat across.
"First, let me introduce our company. We’re SSHIN, a label under JOP’s Korean branch—a Japanese record and production agency."
"JOP…!"
"You’re familiar?"
"My favorite band is signed under JOP. I know it well."
"Great. Remember the elderly man we met a few days ago?"
"Yes."
"He’s JOP’s president."
"...That was Shunji Daitemura?"
Chae Hayoung gasped.
She knew her favorite band was under JOP and that Shunji Daitemura had discovered them along with other iconic Japanese artists.
She’d just never cared to look up his face. (Unless you read Japanese news, his appearance remains elusive.)
"I’m Shin Jiyoung, co-CEO of this label, and…"
Jiyoung gestured to Yeonwoo.
"This is my nephew Yeonwoo—also my co-CEO and the artist known as Yooin."
"Ah, I see… Wait, Yooin?"
Had she misheard?
As if reading her mind, Jiyoung clarified, "You heard right. Our Yeonwoo is Yooin. You know him, don’t you?"
How could she not?
Whether in the industry or aspiring to join it, everyone knew Yooin—the name setting K-pop ablaze.
Someone like Shin Jiyoung wouldn’t lie.
Chae Hayoung stared at Yeonwoo with wide, disbelieving eyes.
Yeonwoo simply smiled, amused by her reaction.
