Can Murder Be a Workplace Accident? Chapter 3.2

“Sit facing each other in pairs.”

An assistant teacher shouted at the students.

They said the class was about drawing the human head, and it seemed the subject was to be a classmate. Min Isak looked around with anxious eyes.

Close friends were already pairing up, asking each other to draw together. No student approached him. He couldn’t easily approach anyone either.

It had been like that for the three months since he had enrolled. Because the number of students was small, he knew their names, exchanged conversations, and there was no bullying to speak of, but for some reason, he couldn’t find a way to break into their circles.

Blaming his timid personality, he set up his easel by the window and observed the students. Since the number of students was even anyway, someone would have to be his partner.

He hoped to be paired with someone with distinctive features so he could get a good grade. He had to be first to get a scholarship.

As a private, specialized high school, Hanmi High School of the Arts did not receive government funding, so its tuition was expensive. The kids from rich families didn’t care much, but Min Isak’s family was not like that. He might not have known it himself, but that was a major reason why he couldn’t get along with his friends.

“Fuck, why won’t anyone be my partner.”

Someone in the middle of the classroom complained irritably. His voice, having gone through puberty, sounded quite manly.

Min Isak hung his sketchbook on his easel and peeked out.

“Why, why, won’t you be my partner? Why, why? Ah, whyyyyyy.”

It was Namgung Tree. He was begging the group he hung out with to be his partner, with a mixture of threats and aegyo. The sight of him shaking his shoulders and acting cute was unsightly.

“Sorry, but no. You’re too handsome.”

Bae Taemin said bluntly.

“Last time, you begged and pleaded so I partnered with you, and my grade ended up in the shitter. Have you forgotten?”

“Hey, asshole. Is that a crime? It was probably because you couldn’t draw well.”

What’s wrong with being good-looking. Namgung Tree rested his arm on the top of the easel and struck a pose. He, who always volunteered to be the model during croquis classes because he was too lazy to draw, struck a quite plausible pose, as good as a professional model’s.

His hair, which he had dyed in the U.S. before enrolling, still had a yellowish tinge. When he blinked his deep double-lidded eyes and made a cute expression, the students burst out laughing.

“Pfft! You crazy bastard.”

Even Bae Taemin, who had been showing reluctance to be his partner, ended up laughing. That kind of shamelessness not being irritating was a talent in itself.

His heart softened, Bae Taemin bit his lip. However, friendship was friendship, and grades were grades. Besides, unlike Namgung Tree who got an A even with a half-assed drawing, he had to try his best just to get a B.

“Still no, you bastard.”

“Ah, Bae Taemin. You’re ruthless.”

Namgung Tree grumbled. Then he noticed that the seat in front of Bae Taemin was still empty and quickly shoved his butt into it. Not missing his chance, Bae Taemin swiftly pulled over Choi Dongjun, who was standing nearby, and sat him down.

“Ugh!”

Namgung Tree’s body, colliding with the fleshy one, rolled on the floor. When Choi Dongjun, who was suddenly stuck between the two, tried to get out of the way, Bae Taemin glared at him with a terrifying look.

“If you get up, your school life is going to get tough.”

He didn’t forget to add a threat. Before Choi Dongjun could get into more trouble, Namgung Tree finally declared defeat.

“Jeez, I’ll go, alright? I wouldn’t be your partner even if you paid me. You’re gross.”

“Just you try coming to my house for beef-bone soup. I’ll give you one I spat in.”

“I’ll report you, you bastard.”

“Then I’ll have to put pesticide in it so you can’t report me.”

“And I call this a friend.”

Namgung Tree sneered. Bae Taemin, saying ‘Hmph’, didn’t even pretend to listen, and Namgung Tree turned away from him and scanned the classroom for a potential partner.

He had thought they were close friends, but everyone avoided his gaze. Even those who didn’t have a partner forcibly grabbed a passing friend and sat them down.

To the other students, Namgung Tree’s face was also burdensome to draw.

Namgung Tree, looking at his face alone, was not a very good model. His eyes, nose, mouth, and ears all had strong individual characters, yet they were also in harmony. Transferring that to a drawing was difficult even for someone with considerable skill.

There was no need to take the difficult path when an easy one was available.

Ding-dong-dang-dong.

Before long, the class bell rang, and the school instantly quieted down. Through the glass window facing the hallway, the art teacher Choi Sunho could be seen walking over. The students feared her, who was in her fifties, more than the dean of students. Namgung Tree was no exception.

There was only one seat left.

Rattle. The sliding door opened.

Namgung Tree launched his body as if diving into the first empty seat he saw.

Min Isak’s eyes widened.

We’re partners. I have to get a good grade, too.

Disaster had struck right before his eyes.

“Today’s class is a sketch of the human head.”

Choi Sunho stood in front of the teacher’s desk and looked around the room. The students, seated in pairs, reluctantly answered, ‘Yeees’, drawing out the end of the word.

Their faces were full of dissatisfaction. Having gone through high school entrance exams on par with university admissions, they grumbled as if something like sketching was beneath them.

“You’re tired of only doing sketches every time, aren’t you?”

“Yes!”

The students shouted. Some booed, saying they hated sketching, or called out to draw something else. There was even a student who made the bold statement that he wanted to go outside and play ball.

“What can you do. You have to build a good foundation now to endure well when a slump comes later.”

At this point, she could have pretended to give in. But having survived in the field of education for over twenty years, she did not budge at their clumsy tricks.

Choi Sunho, working as a high school art teacher, was an anomaly in the art world. This was because after graduating from Hanmi and even finishing her studies at an art school abroad, the place she returned to was her alma mater.

There was one thing she could say to her high school juniors and future students.

“The effort you build up, one block at a time since you were young, will never betray you, so let’s work hard today as well. Everyone, take out your charcoal.”

The students who had been hoping for permission to use a different technique instead of sketching slumped their shoulders.

Min Isak silently rolled up his uniform sleeves. Charcoal dust flew easily, and it smudged with a simple rub. It also stained clothes easily, so arm covers and an apron were essential on days with charcoal class.

Hating the stuffy feeling on his arms, Min Isak only put the apron around his neck. Meanwhile, Namgung Tree was busy begging his friends sitting next to him for supplies.

“You think charcoal is childish, don’t you? And that it’s a medium you don’t even use often. But from Da Vinci to the Hopper4) and Matisse5) you guys like, many artists drew with charcoal. There’s no better medium for expressing the contrast of light.”

“Hey, lend me one stick. I’ll buy you pork cutlet.”

Many students followed Choi Sunho, who had turned down the path to becoming a famous artist and even rejected a university professorship to become a high school teacher. Min Isak was one of those students.

Her explanations were like gold to Min Isak, who didn’t attend a private academy. He tried to focus on her words, but the whispering sound was extremely distracting.

“Use this.”

Unable to bear it any longer, he handed Namgung Tree a stick of charcoal he had prepared as a spare. At the unexpected help, Namgung Tree blinked his large eyes.

“Oh? Thanks. I’ll use it well.”

“…Yeah.”

“You didn’t seem like it, but you’re a surprisingly kind guy, huh?”

“Huh? …Uh.”

He had given it to him to shut him up because he was being loud. At the unexpected compliment, Min Isak awkwardly agreed.

Wait. What does he mean, ‘didn’t seem like it,’ ‘surprisingly,’ ‘kind’?

Min Isak glared at his poor sketchbook with narrowed eyes. Is he saying I look unkind?

His reflection in the windowpane, except for his slightly long, messy bangs, was no different from before he came to school. His long, slanted fox-like eyes narrowed even further.

Is it because of my eyes? Min Isak was often misunderstood as looking cold. But in reality, he had been in trouble more than once because he couldn’t refuse things.

“You don’t even know me well.”

Feeling wronged, he muttered in a small voice without realizing it. Namgung Tree suddenly poked his head out from beside the sketchbook.

“What was that?”

“Ah, nothing.”

“I can hear everything, you know?”

Namgung Tree wiggled his ears. It was a special trick he often showed his friends for fun.

When he stared blankly, he grinned and wiggled his ears again.

“…That’s gross.”

“What? Everyone else finds it fun.”

He continued to move his ears frivolously in front of him.

“Hey, you two, cut the chatter!”

Both of them flinched in unison.

“Namgung Tree. Are you talking again?”

“It wasn’t just me, ma’am. He was, too…”

“Hmph! Let’s focus on the class.”

Choi Sunho glared at Namgung Tree once before continuing her explanation on how to use charcoal.

“Just because it’s a medium not used in the entrance exams doesn’t mean it’s not worth learning. I want my students to get into good universities, but more than that, I want them to become artists who continuously produce good work.”

As she went from mentioning their idols one by one to a lecture on what a good artist is, the students could no longer dawdle. Namgung Tree also put on his apron and got into position.

“Hey.”

Namgung Tree spoke from across the sketchbook. Despite having been called out for his class attitude more than once by Choi Sunho, he pouted his lips petulantly.

“What.”

“Draw me ugly. Don’t go drawing me well and then throwing a fit saying you got a bad grade because of me.”

Such a pointless worry.

Is he crazy, saying something like that with his own mouth? Min Isak pulled his chin down and opened his mouth. From his perspective, the excuse of not being able to draw someone because they were handsome was just that, an excuse.

Drawing someone’s portrait was not just about depicting their appearance. It was the work of capturing the essence contained within the material through curved and straight lines.

“Don’t worry. I’ll draw you ugly.”

He declared confidently and wrapped a tissue around the charcoal. Namgung Tree raised an eyebrow.

“Because you are ugly.”

“Pfft, what did you say?”

Namgung Tree burst out laughing. His face said it was the first time he’d ever heard such an absurd thing.

“Hey, you have no idea how much I admire myself every time I look in the mirror in the morning…”

Bae Taemin may have technically drawn Namgung Tree’s face, but he failed to draw what was inside it. To see what was inside, observation was fundamental.

“Wha-what?”

Min Isak thrust the long charcoal pencil in front of his nose and gauged the proportions. Namgung Tree, startled, pulled back, but he paid it no mind.

With the overly high bridge of the nose as the center, he tilted the pencil left and right to measure the width of the space between his eyebrows. Inside the deep eye sockets, his double-lidded eyes sparkled.

Below a philtrum of appropriate length, his upper lip was slightly raised. His thick lower lip curved pleasingly.

“…!”

“How can you look at me like that after calling me ugly?”

He smiled, the corners of his mouth turning up. The dimple that formed on only one cheek was unusual.

“What do you mean, how was I, I looking at you?”

“Like this.”

Namgung Tree slightly opened his mouth and made a dazed expression. If he were drooling, he would look just like the neighborhood idiot hyung.

“Wh-when did I!”

Min Isak quickly hid behind his sketchbook. Do I look that stupid? He would rather be told he looked unkind.

Hissing, he drew lines on his sketchbook, but Namgung Tree once again stuck his face out.

“Ah, what!”

“I have to look at you to draw you. Hold still.”

Winking his left eye, Namgung Tree also held out his charcoal. Although not a shred of seriousness could be felt in the way he licked his lips playfully while measuring the proportions, his gaze tickled like ants crawling on his skin.

His head, which had been facing forward, kept tilting to the side.

“Hey, can you look at me?”

Namgung Tree requested. Startled, Min Isak straightened his posture. He furrowed his brows and picked up his charcoal.

“It’s easier to draw from the front.”

“R-right.”

“Hurry up and get into position. We don’t have time.”

Min Isak looked at the clock on the wall. Just as he said, about a third of the class time had already passed.

He hurried to sit up straight. Still, he couldn’t stop his upper body from twisting to the side as if it were wound up.

“Fine, whatever. I’ll draw you my own way. Your features are indistinct, so I can probably draw you well even with a rough look.”

Namgung Tree grumbled and returned to his seat.

Just as an offended Min Isak was about to retort, Choi Sunho began to walk around the classroom, checking the students’ drawings. This was his chance to get her feedback.

Min Isak bit his lip hard and focused on his drawing.

The weather was especially hot today.

Perhaps because he was next to the window, sweat beaded on his face and shoulders where the sun shone. But the sweat on his palms didn’t seem to be because of the weather.

The charcoal kept slipping, and he had to readjust his grip several times.

Namgung Tree, who had begun to immerse himself in his drawing, did not show his face properly. He drew the lines, glancing at his face over the easel.

The image of Namgung Tree transferred to the drawing resembled something he knew well. What should he say it resembled?

“David.”

From the black hair growing beneath his dyed hair to its curliness, Namgung Tree looked exactly like David.

“…Huh!”

He had said it out loud, louder than he’d intended. He belatedly covered his mouth, but everyone in the classroom had heard him. The students working nearby turned their backs and focused on Min Isak’s drawing.

“Oh, you’re right.”

“He really does look like him.”

“D-don’t look!”

In an instant, a murmur grew. Choi Sunho, who was giving advice to another student, approached Min Isak.

“Hey, what’s going on over there?”

“Ma’am, look at this.”

“Doesn’t he really look like him?”

“I told you to stop looking!”

Min Isak desperately tried to cover the drawing with his body. His face was red as if it would burst.

“Ma’am, Min Isak drew Tree like David.”

One student quickly tattled. At the mention of his name, Namgung Tree also stood up from his seat.

Min Isak was on the verge of tears. He liked drawing, but beyond praise for doing well, attention that felt like teasing was burdensome. Moreover, being teased in front of the model was something he loathed.

“Is this me?”

In the drawing, Namgung Tree had his face turned to the side, looking somewhere far away. His brows were slightly furrowed and his mouth was firm. It was a different look from the usual Namgung Tree.

His eyes, gazing into the distance, were not vacant but blazing. With his eyes fixed on a clear target, as if he would dash forward at any moment a signal was given, one could feel a precarious tension just before a shift in the center of gravity.

“Whoa…”

Is this really my face? Namgung Tree marveled. Having only seen his friends’ drawings that depicted his brightly smiling face, seeing his own image drawn by him was a new experience.

“I like it! When you finish this drawing, can you give it to me?”

“N-no. I’m going to throw it away.”

Min Isak was too busy covering the drawing to care about the soot getting on his face.

“If you’re going to throw it away, give it to me.”

Namgung Tree said, dragging out the end of his words with a pathetic attempt at aegyo.

Clap! Clap!

A clap was heard from behind him.

“Alright, everyone return to your seats!”

Choi Sunho, who had approached from behind at some point, got their attention. “Aren’t you going to draw? I’m moving the submission time up by five minutes!” At her threat, the students hastily picked up their charcoal.

“You two should sit down, too.”

She smiled menacingly. She never made exceptions for students, so even Namgung Tree couldn’t say a word and sat down.

Choi Sunho looked down at Min Isak’s drawing, which had drawn the children’s attention.

“Hmm…”

A thoughtful hum was heard as she contemplated how to evaluate it. Forgetting the embarrassment he had felt just a moment ago, Min Isak straightened his posture.

“Ma’am, isn’t it well drawn? David is a total hunk, you know.”

Namgung Tree, acting flighty, stood up from his seat and was suddenly standing next to Choi Sunho, speaking up for Min Isak. Even though Min Isak glared at him, telling him to shut up, he proudly puffed out his chest, relying on his one handsome face.

“…It is well drawn, but Namgung Tree, you don’t look like David at all.”

Choi Sunho flicked the forehead of the cheeky Namgung Tree.

“That hurts!”

“What kind of David in what neighborhood is this cheeky? Get back to your seat.”

Choi Sunho shouted at Namgung Tree. Namgung Tree held his flicked forehead with both hands and trudged back to his seat.