Chapter 1028: We Call the Rain (12)

When Biju and I first participated in the planning meeting for WAVE, we had a very specific vision in mind.

—

"Ta-da! WooBizz has arrived!"

"Everyone! Hot, aren't you? WooBizz is here to blow away all that summer heat with WAVE!"

—

The Souffles, exhausted by the sweltering weather, would cheer wildly the moment they saw us.

"But that never happened."

"Drip..."

What actually happened was—

—

Shhhhhhhhhh—

—

Rain.

Pouring down enthusiastically while seemingly mocking us.

"No, seriously. I know reality never goes exactly as planned, but isn't this a little too much?"

"The weather is being incredibly uncooperative. It's like Kim Junghyun."

The weather really was strange.

Almost as if we'd been cursed.

The skies would remain perfectly normal until the moment we stepped onstage, and then rain would suddenly begin falling.

Not all day, either.

Just during our time slot.

—

Shhhhhhhhh—

—

"Even the sound of it is annoying now."

"At this rate, I feel like the rain's going to start giggling at us."

Standing on the second floor of HBS's public hall in Deungchon-dong, we looked out through the window.

Souffles carrying umbrellas filled the streets below.

From above, it looked like colorful mushrooms moving around.

"Ah..."

"My heart hurts, hyung."

Rain was practically the natural enemy of Souffles.

Most of them had to wait outdoors.

And these weren't gentle showers.

They were sudden downpours that soaked your pant legs and filled your shoes with water the moment you looked away.

Honestly, there was only one good thing about this rain.

"Hm?"

"What is it, Biju?"

"I saw a post trending online."

"What post?"

"Apparently a couple got together because of our last prerecording."

"...?"

I read the post Biju showed me.

On a rainy prerecording day, a man and woman had met by chance.

They'd become interested in each other.

Then awkwardly parted ways.

Both regretted it immensely.

Only to run into each other again at another public recording.

A reunion worthy of destiny.

"Ehhh..."

"Why? Isn't that nice?"

"What happens if they break up? Then neither of them will want to come to events anymore."

Who wanted to attend a fan event if there was a chance of running into an ex?

"Tsk tsk..."

"I don't think I've ever imagined things in that direction, hyung."

"If we're already this deep into it, I hope they get married and ask us to sing at their wedding. The wedding song of WooBizz, who united their love on a rainy day...!"

"Ooh, that's nice..."

It was an occupational disease.

Everything eventually turned into content.

The new project Biju and I had planned was born from exactly that kind of imagination.

—

"Biju."

"Yeah?"

"If it's going to keep raining every time we do this... should we just go around performing rainmaking rituals?"

"Rainmaking rituals?"

—

The idea had simply occurred to me.

Many regions across the country were suffering from severe drought that summer.

Reservoirs were drying up.

News reports showed farmers staring miserably at dying crops.

If we performed in those areas and happened to bring rain with us...

Wouldn't that be a genuinely wonderful thing?

—

"What if it doesn't rain?"

"That's why we'd collaborate with local governments."

—

A quick online search revealed that municipalities everywhere were desperately trying to combat the heat.

Water trucks sprayed roads to cool the asphalt.

I thought it might make for a nice picture if WooBizz performed in places like that.

—

"But how would we even organize something like this?"

"Well..."

—

Fortunately, there were specialists.

People we'd worked closely with for years.

People who knew regional issues better than anyone.

The production team of PBS's Today, My Hometown.

—

"A rainmaking ritual special...?"

"What do you think?"

"We'll prepare it immediately and get back to you."

—

The production staff responded with an immediate yes.

Schedules were arranged.

Calls were made.

And before long—

WooBizz's Rainmaking Ritual Special became reality.

Biju and I stepped away from the window and headed toward the waiting room.

"We've got a lot to prepare."

"Yeah."

"I should probably research rainmaking ritual dances."

"I already requested some ritual audio archives from the Seoul Folk Sound Museum. They're sending us CDs."

"Oh."

"We should study them later."

"Okay."

"And we need to ask Ri Hyuk for information..."

I could already picture him excitedly explaining:

"The origins of rainmaking rituals are..."

But Ri Hyuk wasn't the only person whose opinion we needed.

There was someone else.

"Me?"

"Yep. You, Junghyun."

"Why?"

Junghyun tilted his head.

I pointed at him.

"You. Former farmer. Future farmer."

"Well... that's true."

Ever since elementary school, Junghyun's dream had been to become a farmer.

Technically, his high-school records listed his dream job as "lawyer."

According to Biju—

—

"He wrote rice farming, and his teacher somehow turned it into lawyer..."

—

Apparently that had happened.

In any case, Junghyun cared far more about farming techniques than civil law.

He could miss questions on history exams.

But anything related to agricultural methods from the Three Kingdoms era through Joseon?

Never.

"I see."

Nodding wisely like the chief of a tribe of scholarly bears, Junghyun smiled benevolently.

"What assistance can the Sage of Agriculture provide?"

"..."

Biju immediately looked away, apparently disgusted by his friend's smugness.

Playing along with the concept, I dropped to one knee.

"I wish to understand the hearts of farmers, O Wise One."

"What specifically do you wish to understand?"

"We're going to perform a rainmaking ritual. I want to know what we should pay attention to."

"Hmm."

Junghyun thought for a moment.

Then spoke.

"No matter how modern farming becomes, drought is still a serious problem."

"Yeah."

"When rain doesn't come, your chest feels tight. You can't sleep. You keep wondering what you're supposed to do. Then you visit the reservoir and see the water level dropping. The earth starts cracking."

"I see..."

"So when you perform the ritual, I think you should be serious."

I nodded.

In other words—

Don't go around cheerfully chanting, Rain, please come down~

Take it seriously.

"Seriously..."

"Yeah. We can't actually make it rain. But we can at least comfort the people who are suffering."

"Got it."

I understood exactly what he meant.

People were already furious because of the drought.

If we showed up going Teehee~ Rain, please fall~, we'd look ridiculous.

Biju asked another question.

"Did your village ever do rainmaking rituals when you lived in Goesan?"

"Hmm..."

Junghyun thought.

Then he frowned.

"Come to think of it, our village never held one."

"...?"

"Rain just... came."

His gaze drifted elsewhere awkwardly.

At that moment, Biju and I imagined something.

—

Bwoooooo...

—

Dark silhouettes wrapped in ominous auras.

The Kim Clan of Goesan.

Rulers of the county's underworld.

Their muscles flexed as they laughed.

—

"Jade Emperor! Send us rain!"

"If you don't, the Kim Clan will march straight into Heaven!"

—

Biju and I shook our heads warmly.

Ridiculous.

Must be a coincidence.

Junghyun stared at us.

"...?"

Then asked,

"So where are you going?"

"Mostly the central region. Chungcheong area. That's where the drought is worst."

"That makes sense."

"Your grandfather's place okay?"

"Yeah. They get rain occasionally."

"I see..."

At that moment, I quietly decided that if a zombie apocalypse ever occurred, Junghyun's hometown would be our destination.

Meanwhile, Junghyun studied the map I showed him.

"Ri Hyuk made this."

"A map?"

"Areas with the worst drought damage this year."

"Looks good."

The former farmer nodded.

"I like the feeling of it."

Biju and I smiled.

But at the time—

We were so focused on the rainmaking ritual that we failed to realize something.

Junghyun had just said he liked the feeling.

Sometimes there are people like that.

You only meet occasionally over several years.

Yet they somehow feel familiar.

Like old friends.

For us, the production staff of Today, My Hometown were exactly those people.

"Hello!!"

"Oh! Hello! Long time no see!"

It was the program that had helped launch our rise to national-idol status during our small-theater tour back in early 2016.

After appearing on it, our recognition among middle-aged and elderly audiences had skyrocketed.

Naturally, we were deeply attached to the show.

One of the assistant producers greeted us warmly.

"It's been almost six months, hasn't it? Since the Pyeongchang Opening Ceremony."

"You're right."

Six months earlier, we'd filmed a special episode introducing local specialties around Pyeongchang while performing at the Olympics.

"I can't believe that was already six months ago."

"Time flies, right? It's August already. More than half the year's gone."

When they mentioned how much they'd been enjoying WAVE lately, we thanked them.

Soon the PD returned to the staff to continue preparations.

Meanwhile—

"Oof..."

Biju and I stood beneath a floral parasol.

Even our managers were already drenched in sweat.

"Biju."

"Yeah?"

"Is that a heat shimmer?"

"I think so..."

The ground itself seemed to ripple.

The sunlight was brutal.

"It's hot..."

We were in Hongseong County, South Chungcheong Province.

A rural village.

Cicadas screamed from the trees.

"Biju. Want to hear something interesting?"

"What?"

I pointed a mini fan at him.

"Did you know cicada songs have structure? There's an opening section, a transition, then a final closing section."

"Oh..."

"What we're hearing now is basically the bridge."

"I see."

Biju nodded thoughtfully.

"When I hear cicadas, I think of Ri Hyuk."

"...?"

"For such a small body to produce a sound that big. It's kind of amazing."

The image of cicada wings sprouting from Ri Hyuk's back made me burst out laughing.

Then I started improvising a song over the cicadas' rhythm.

"Who is Seo Ri Hyuk~♬"

Biju immediately joined in.

"A cute little cicada~♬"

"That's right~ A cicada indeed~ So handsome every day he's practically a cicada~♬"

"A cicada indeed~♪"

"If only he wrote his thoughts a little more kindly~ He'd truly be perfect~♬"

We were still singing when—

Rattle. Rattle.

A dusty truck rolled into view.

The village chief climbed out.

A gaunt man in his sixties beneath an old hat.

"Oh, you're here."

"Hello!"

"Yep."

His expression was gloomy.

Given the weather and the drought, his mood clearly wasn't great.

With cameras rolling, we followed him around the village.

The first stop was the reservoir.

"This is our village reservoir."

"Oh..."

"Huh..."

We stared at it silently.

It was so dry the ground had cracked apart.

Biju muttered,

"It's worse than I expected."

"Yeah..."

Things that had simply been news stories back in Seoul now stood directly before us.

For the first time, I fully understood why Junghyun had insisted we take droughts seriously.

After hearing about the situation—

"Hello~!"

We greeted the villagers waiting at the community hall.

"Oh my, our little black-haired boys!"

"Look at that pale skin. They're practically babies."

"They are babies."

As we bowed politely, one of the women turned to the village chief.

"Why are you standing over there like a sack of barley? Come over here."

"Ah, well..."

"Our village chief is NewBlack's biggest fan."

The chief cleared his throat awkwardly and approached.

"You're a fan?"

"Ah... um..."

Apparently he was.

After some fan service and encouragement to hurry over for lunch, we followed everyone inside.

"Hoo..."

"Oh my..."

The menu?

Neungi mushroom chicken soup.

One spoonful of broth.

My eyes widened.

"This taste...!"

It was heavenly.

For a moment, I genuinely wondered whether every chicken soup I'd eaten before had been fake.

The garlic was abundant.

The chicken was substantial.

"As expected of native chicken."

"No, we bought it from the local Hanaro Mart..."

Ah.

The taste of Nonghyup.

Everyone burst out laughing.

While Biju and I carefully ate alongside the elders, questions came flying from every direction.

Why had we come?

We explained the story behind WAVE.

"So you're saying whenever you sing that song, rain mysteriously falls?"

"It just keeps happening."

"We'd really love some rain."

Then they asked what kind of song WAVE actually was.

And I froze.

"Uh..."

Most of the villagers were over fifty.

Trying to explain Zeus and Poseidon suddenly felt impossible.

I searched desperately for an answer.

"You know the Korean foundation myth? The Wind Earl, Rain Master, Cloud Master..."

"The Rain Master?"

The elders exchanged glances.

"You know that?"

"No."

"I know Ungnyeo."

That wasn't working either.

Fortunately, Biju stepped forward.

"It's about the Jade Emperor and the Dragon King hanging out together."

"Ahhhh!"

Perfect.

A fully localized explanation.

I shot Biju an admiring look.

Soon several villagers were searching "WooBizz" on MyTube.

After lunch and conversation—

"Alright."

Dressed in our performance outfits, we took our places at the ritual site.

The village elder frowned at the ceremonial table.

"Who arranged this?"

"Huh?!"

The chief looked annoyed.

The elder immediately began scolding him.

"Left dried meat, right vinegar! Red east, white west!"

"Huh?!"

"Tsk."

Pretending not to understand, the chief ignored him.

The elder looked deeply dissatisfied.

Apparently something about the arrangement offended him.

After studying the ceremonial table, I picked up a small gong.

"...?"

"...??"

Everyone watched curiously.

Clang—

Interest instantly sharpened.

Clang-clang-clang-clang—

As I played, the elders' mouths slowly opened.

Then I closed my eyes.

And faithfully recreated a traditional rainmaking ritual I'd once heard on Finding Our Sounds.

♪ Villagers, gather around~♬

The PBS staff blinked.

One writer turned away to hide her laughter.

Biju gestured.

The elders responded.

"Yeeees~"

♬ Disaster has struck! We planted our crops, but the drought is killing them all~♬

"Oh dear!"

♬ Let us all offer a rainmaking prayer to Heaven and Earth~♬

Biju raised his hand again.

"Yeees~"

♬ We pray~ We pray~ We pray to the spirits of Heaven and Earth~♬

As I played the gong and walked around, the villagers folded their hands sincerely.

I was serious too.

The song wasn't actually going to summon rain.

But perhaps it could comfort people.

Sweat streamed down my face.

The heat was unbearable.

"Alright..."

Time for the finale.

Panting, I announced,

"You will now enjoy WooBizz's WAVE."

Biju and I performed atop the mat.

The elders cheered enthusiastically.

Managers distributed ice cream cones beneath the tent.

The villagers held them up like light sticks.

"Wooooooo!"

"They're so good!"

"Chief, why are you crying?!"

Boom-cha boom-cha.

We performed a version with slight retro influences tailored to older tastes.

Everyone clapped.

Some danced.

Then—

"Hm?"

"Huh?"

Something landed on my forehead.

Not sweat.

A warm droplet.

Plop.

It wasn't rain.

Just one of those occasional droplets that fall from a cloud before disappearing.

But—

"...!"

"...!!"

Under these drought conditions, even that counted.

The villagers and we exchanged wide-eyed looks.

"Did... did it work?"

"NewBlack!"

"Yes!"

The villagers nodded.

"Round two!"

We immediately played WAVE again.

Everyone began dancing together.

Even the village chief stepped in front of the speakers, directing traffic while waving a split ice cream stick.

Then—

Plop. Plop. Plop.

"It's raining...!"

"Huh?"

"Huh?!"

One droplet became two.

Then more.

The villagers screamed and rushed forward to hug us.

Biju and I looked completely lost.

"Huh?"

"Wait... what?"

Then—

Shhhhhhhhh—

Nobody even tried to take cover.

Everyone stared at the sky and laughed.

Even the eighty-year-old village elder who'd spent all day looking grumpy suddenly smiled.

"Blessed rain...!"

"It's raining!"

"It's finally raining!"

Everyone embraced each other beneath the falling water.

Someone shouted,

"Turn the song up! Louder!"

"Okay!"

We switched to the recorded version and blasted WAVE through the speakers.

—

Shhhhhhhhhhh—

—

"Hahahahaha!"

"It's raining!"

—

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—

—

And while WAVE played—

The rain intensified at an absurd speed.

Bada Bada—

No one...

—

SHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—

—

No one at all

Can stop us

—

SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—!!

—

The villagers stared upward in horror.

Several suddenly sprinted toward the fields like people fleeing hornets.

"Turn the song off!"

"All the crops are going to drown!"

"Turn it off! Turn it off!"

Amid the chaos, I closed my eyes.

Was that rain running down my face?

Or tears?

—

SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—

—

"Is it just me, or does the rain sound like it's laughing?"

"Maybe that's why they call it ridicule..."

"..."

Tears filled my eyes.