Chapter 40 : She wanted to see it for herself.
[Ha-neul’s POV]
“Yena has fallen asleep.”
“Well, it’s no wonder.”
Yena had been drawing for hours without a break, so focused that she didn’t even respond when we called her name.
All that concentration must have worn her out. As soon as she finished her drawing, she collapsed onto the sofa and fell asleep.
“Should we move her to the bedroom?”
“It’s better to let her rest here for now. It’s pretty noisy over there.”
“True.”
Kang bada and I carefully adjusted Yena’s position to make her more comfortable, then turned our attention back to the sketchbook, deep in thought.
“Ha-neul-ssi, you recognize this painting, right?”
“Yeah, it’s Claude Monet’s Woman with a Parasol. Looks like she tried to recreate it in her own way.”
“She memorized the whole thing?”
“Which makes it even harder to believe.”
Yena had drawn the picture entirely from memory, using just her sketchbook and some coloring tools—without looking at the original while she worked.
“When do you think Yena saw this painting?”
“We’ll have to ask the director.”
We called the director, and despite looking a bit worn out, she soon joined us in the lounge. She seemed tired from handling the energetic kids.
“Sorry to trouble you when you must be tired, Director-nim.”
“It’s fine. Is this about Yena?”
“Yes, actually…”
We briefly explained what happened, and after hearing us out, the director nodded as she looked over Yena’s sketchbook.
“Last week, we took a trip to an art museum as part of the retreat program. It was for the World Masterpieces Exhibition.”
“So that’s where she saw this painting.”
“Yes. There were quite a few things that happened with Yena at the exhibition. Now it’s starting to make sense.”
“Could you tell us more about it?”
The director nodded again, her expression turning a bit more serious as she began explaining. The more she spoke, the more surprised Kang bada and I became.
“Since we were moving as a group, we mostly just skimmed through the exhibits. But Yena kept insisting that she wanted to stay longer.”
“That’s unusual for her, isn’t it?”
“Very. Yena’s usually very considerate of others and hardly ever asks for anything. But that day, she kept insisting she wanted to see more of the paintings.”
“Hmm…”
By now, we knew Yena well. She was the perfect example of a ‘good child.’
She rarely asked for anything and always followed instructions without complaint.
‘She’s a bit more open with us, but even then…’
After we got closer, she did occasionally ask to do things with us, but compared to other kids, it was still rare.
For Yena to insist on something like that—it had to be something really special. Almost like an obsession.
“In the end, we let her go with Teacher Park. She stayed at the exhibition until it closed, completely missing the next activity.”
“Was there anything unusual after she got back?”
“Oh, now that you mention it, Yena usually watches magical girl anime, but yesterday she was watching a YouTube video about drawing. Do you think that’s connected?”
“Maybe.”
With more information coming in, Kang bada sighed softly. The director, glancing at Yena’s sketchbook, tilted her head in slight confusion.
“To be honest, from my point of view, it doesn’t seem like that special of a drawing. Sure, it’s good, but not that extraordinary.”
“That’s understandable.”
Even though Yena was talented, she was still only seven years old. She hadn’t had any formal art training.
For a child her age, with little exposure to art, to create something that anyone could easily understand was almost impossible without proper guidance.
Art, especially painting, is a field so vast it could fill libraries, so it was only natural that the director wouldn’t see the significance right away.
‘It wasn’t just the final outcome that was impressive; it was the process that shocked us.’
When Yena first opened her sketchbook, Kang bada and I didn’t think much of it. We were expecting her to draw something simple, like a basic stick figure.
But she surprised us, confidently using the brush, even blending the paint with her fingers at times.
As hours passed, the painting started to take shape. From then on, we were completely absorbed in watching her.
“Director-nim, do you have any pictures from that day?”
“Yes, I do. Here they are.”
The director handed us her phone. In the picture, Yena was gazing at the painting, lost in thought.
“Wow…”
“It really leaves you speechless.”
“What do you mean?”
As we chuckled, the director looked at us curiously, and Kang bada gave a simple explanation.
“Do you see this painting here?”
“It looks similar to what Yena drew.”
“Exactly. Yena was copying this painting. But don’t you notice something different about the colors?”
“Now that you mention it, yeah, the colors do seem a bit different…”
Yena’s recreation closely matched the painting in the photo, but there was a key difference—the color tones seemed slightly off.
At first, we thought it was just because of the materials she used. After all, she wasn’t painting on a professional canvas or using high-quality acrylics.
“Monet is often called the father of Impressionism. His works try to capture the feeling of a moment, especially how light changes things.”
“Hmm?”
“To put it simply, it’s about the lighting.”
“Lighting?”
Kang bada began explaining slowly, pointing out the differences between Yena’s drawing and the photo on the phone.
“Since the exhibition featured famous works from around the world, they probably couldn’t perfectly adjust the lighting for every piece. Plus, there are limitations with replicas.”
“That makes sense.”
“If you look closely, you can see both white light and a hint of yellow light. If you were there in person, the difference would be even more noticeable.”
“So then…?”
The director’s eyes widened as she started to understand what Kang bada was saying. Kang bada nodded seriously, confirming her thoughts.
“Yena saw Monet’s painting here for the first and last time. She drew it purely from memory.”
Swipe, swipe—
Kangbada unlocked her phone and brought up an image of Woman with a Parasol on the screen. After tweaking a few settings with a photo-editing app, she showed the director.
“Oh my goodness.”
The colors on the phone screen now almost exactly matched the ones Yena had painted. It felt like, for a moment, they were seeing the world through Yena’s eyes. The director was so shocked she covered her mouth in disbelief.
“The most amazing thing is that she did this all from memory. She’s never had any proper art lessons, and yet she drew this! That’s some real talent!”
“…”
Kang bada, now quite excited, clenched her fists tightly. It’s true—people see things based on what they know. Having grown up surrounded by art, Kang bada had developed a sharp eye for such things.
Even I, with my minimal exposure to art, could tell that Yena’s ability was something special.
But the director’s face was different. She bit her lip, her expression complicated.
“Why do you look worried?”
“I just can’t help feeling sad for Yena.”
“Sad? Why?”
Kang bada tilted her head, clearly confused. Why feel sad for a child with such an extraordinary gift?
“Yena doesn’t have savant syndrome, though.”
Savant syndrome.
It’s a rare condition found in some individuals with autism. Those with it display remarkable abilities in certain areas, far beyond what an average person could do.
Some can recreate entire cityscapes after just a short glance, or play complex pieces on the piano after hearing them once.
But because it’s part of autism, their skills outside those few areas are often severely limited. Yena didn’t have that.
“It’s not about that, Bada-ssi.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s about money.”
“Money?”
The director slowly nodded at my comment. Kang bada still looked confused, glancing between us.
‘It’s understandable.’
Of course, it wasn’t her fault. The world she had lived in until now was just so different. How often would Kang bada have needed to worry about money?
To nurture a child’s talent, especially one like Yena’s, you need the right environment—and that takes a lot of time, effort, and money.
In fields like art or music, the costs are so high that even most middle-class families can’t afford it.
And even if they invest everything, there’s no guarantee the talent will turn into a career that supports them financially.
‘And on top of all that, Yena doesn’t even know who her parents are.’
I had heard she came to the orphanage through a baby box. All that came with her was a note with her name and birthdate, and a small gold ring.
Since Yena had never even been registered at birth, finding her biological parents was nearly impossible. And the orphanage didn’t have the resources to fully support her either.
I explained the situation as simply as I could to Kang bada.
“I see…”
Only then did Kang bada’s expression become more complicated. It was probably something she had never thought about before, so it must have been a bit of a shock.
After all, Yena’s life and Kang bada’s couldn’t have been more different. The facts she had only vaguely known were now sinking in, and the gap between their realities was clear.
“Bada, you don’t need to feel bad about this. I’ll do everything I can to help.”
“We’ll help too.”
I spoke up on her behalf, knowing Kang bada needed some more time to process it all.
“Thank you, as always. I’ll take Yena to her room, so you two can talk.”
“Thanks.”
The director left the room, carrying Yena, who was fast asleep. I turned to Kang bada, who was still staring blankly at the floor.
“Bada-ssi, don’t worry too much. We’re the ones jumping to conclusions about Yena’s drawing. For all we know, she might just see it as a hobby.”
“That’s true…”
Kang bada nodded slowly. From what we had seen, it looked like Yena was really into drawing, but we hadn’t actually asked her what she wanted.
“Let’s just take it slow and see what happens. If Yena decides she wants to focus on art, we can support her then. For now, let’s just do what we can.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
The focus in Kang bada’s eyes returned as she looked at me with a small smile.
“Thanks. I think I’ve finally sorted my thoughts.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
It wasn’t just a polite response—Kang bada really seemed more like her usual self now, her lips curling into a smile.
“I’m going to call in that favor you owe me.”
“You weren’t joking about that?”
“Of course not.”
With a soft chuckle, Kang bada gave me a sly look, almost like she had been planning something all along.
“You’re free tomorrow, right?”
“Actually, no.”
“Not counting writing. You’ve got plenty of chapters saved up. About 30, right?”
“…You didn’t hack my computer, did you?”
“Who knows~?”
She was probably kidding.
But it was a little unsettling how close she was to the real number. I made a mental note to change my passwords when I got home.
“So, what do you want to do?”
“I want to see it for myself. Just how talented Yena really is.”
Kang bada’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.
Her gaze stayed locked on Yena’s sketchbook, and I could sense a strange intensity behind it.
That’s when I realized.
She had her sights set on Yena.
