In *Moonlight Drawn by Clouds*, the female lead, "Yeongwol," serves as the Crown Prince's bodyguard. She is a secretive protector of the male lead, "Crown Prince Lee Hyun."
Ordinarily, a woman like Yeongwol could not have become a royal bodyguard. However, with her expert disguise as a man and her exceptional sword skills, no one suspected she was a woman.
This is why Ha-eun believed she needed to master swordsmanship if she wanted to be cast as Yeongwol. Although the swordsmanship required was for filming, rather than actual combat, both types demanded skill with a blade.
Ha-eun had mimicked Kim Kyu-tae's movements, hoping that by emulating his textbook-perfect form, she could deliver an impressive, "visually pleasing" sword performance.
However, from Kim Kyu-tae’s perspective…
‘…I’ve seen this somewhere before.’
Ha-eun’s swordsmanship seemed closer to another style than his own.
Considering this was her first sword performance, she displayed remarkable talent. Most actors he’d taught struggled even to hold the right stance at first.
Her facial expressions, as if she were Yeongwol come to life, were flawless. Without any dialogue, she conveyed urgency, hostility, and murderous intent through her expressions alone.
But the feeling of familiarity in Ha-eun’s swordsmanship nagged at him. He spent a long time trying to recall where he’d seen such swordplay.
‘Dad, can you teach me this?’
‘Sorry, son. Not even I can make waves appear from my sword.’
Finally, he recalled an anime his young son had recently asked to learn from, a Japanese animation featuring a sword technique called “Water Breathing,” which traced ellipses with the blade, just like Ha-eun’s movements.
After Ha-eun’s flawless first performance, as she glanced over at Kim Kyu-tae, awaiting his feedback, he spoke:
“It’s true that the sword techniques in *Demon Slayer* look cool, but period drama swordplay is different. Let’s start from the basics.”
He made it clear that anime sword techniques were not the same as real-life swordsmanship. Almost immediately, Ha-eun’s face turned beet red.
Her ears burned so much that she could barely focus on the period swordsmanship lecture Kim Kyu-tae began. She couldn’t retain a single word.
***
After her first swordsmanship class, which had started with excitement and ended in embarrassment…
“So, off to action school again today?”
“…Yes.”
Determined to overcome the shame of her first class, Ha-eun asked Joo Jung-yoon to take her to Kim Kyu-tae’s action school almost daily. After all, she’d been training for twelve years now and couldn’t just stop.
For Kim Kyu-tae, however, it was a bit of a hassle. He had other actors to teach, and working seven days a week was a nightmare.
He understood Ha-eun’s desire to secure the role of Yeongwol through relentless sword training. After all, youthful passion often burned the brightest.
“Um, Ha-eun, as much as I admire your enthusiasm, having lessons every day might be a bit much.”
“Well… could I at least use the training grounds?”
“Huh? You’d really be okay with just using the grounds?”
“Yes.”
They reached an agreement that worked well for both. Ha-eun got her training space, and Kim Kyu-tae could point her out as a model for other stunt actors.
So, Ha-eun’s training resumed, but something else made her schedule even more intense.
“Just one more time, Ha-eun.”
“…Are you going to take responsibility if I lose my voice?”
“Of course, just one more time.”
Thanks to accepting Double Lee's offer to feature in their song, she found herself spending hours in their studio. While being in the studio itself wasn’t too exhausting…
“Could you sing this part a bit lower than the chorus, but in your chest voice?”
“Didn’t you just ask me to sing it in a higher falsetto?”
“Well, after listening again, it feels like the chest voice carries more emotion.”
Ha-eun had to constantly adjust her tone to meet Double Lee’s ever-changing requests, which would shift every few minutes.
“This part needs to blend with our voices, so could you sing it a bit louder?”
“Can’t you just increase my volume?”
“No, you can’t say that. If the harmony is off, it’ll sound awful.”
Their exacting feedback drained her energy. The attention to detail far exceeded her regular singing lessons.
Of course, since they were working on a song for an album, the extra care made sense. Still, there was a limit.
- Beep.
“Now, Ha-eun, try cutting off the last note a bit shorter.”
- Beep.
“Hmm… Could you sing it with a fading effect this time?”
- Beep.
“That was amazing, Ha-eun! Now, just increase the pitch slightly with that same strength.”
- Beep, beep, beep…
She couldn’t understand why they made her record the same part twenty times. To her, every recording sounded exactly the same. What could possibly be different?
“This feels like child abuse.”
“You’re eighteen, not a child. And there’s no backing out now.”
“Yeah, if you had concerns, you should have said them before signing the contract.”
Seeing Lee Gun-yeol and Lee Joon in perfect agreement left Ha-eun speechless. Besides, once she’d decided to do something, she preferred to give it her all.
Ha-eun ended up featuring on three of the thirteen songs in Double Lee’s new album, including the title track, “Tunnel.” Normally, a featured singer would only appear on two songs, so her case was unusual.
“Your voice is exceptional, Ha-eun. So, what if you did just one more song—”
“I believe someone said that these things should be discussed *before* signing the contract.”
“Tch.”
The benefits of having someone like Ha-eun as a featured artist far outweighed any drawbacks. Her voice perfectly complemented Double Lee’s music.
However, the real issue arose with her decision to use a pseudonym.
“So, Ha-eun, do you really need to use an alias?”
“Yes.”
“What about using just your initials? That way, people might guess it’s you, which could be good for you too—”
- Glare.
“…If you insist, then… we’ll respect your choice…”
They reluctantly dropped the topic, and discussion turned to what her alias should be. With her unique voice that matched Double Lee’s style, her name had to stand out.
While Ha-eun herself wasn’t picky about the name…
“Image is everything for an artist.”
“For an anonymous artist?”
“Yes, even a name has an image. Who’d want to listen to a singer called ‘Tone-Deaf’?”
‘…I think people might give it a listen, just out of curiosity.’
The two men finally began to seriously discuss her stage name, only for their voices to start rising as they debated.
“I’ll choose my own name, thank you. Now, stop it.”
Seeing no reason to let things get heated over this, Ha-eun took control of the conversation.
“Did you have a name in mind?”
“…Pinocchio. I’ll go with Pinocchio.”
Pinocchio, the classic symbol of a liar, seemed fitting for Ha-eun, who aspired to be the world’s greatest liar.
“Korean or English?”
“Korean. English would be too long.”
Thus, “feat. 피노키오 (Pinocchio)” was added to every track Ha-eun featured on. Finally, the day of the album release arrived.
[ Ha-eun, you should be here with us on a day like today. ]
“I have an important appointment, but I promise to drop by tomorrow.”
She stood outside an MCN building, not Double Lee’s studio, awaiting the long-anticipated meeting with the other Fantasia members.
After reassuring the disappointed voices over the phone…
“Phew…”
Taking a deep breath, Ha-eun headed inside for the meeting she was both nervous and excited for.
The first person she met was Ji Hye-min, the project manager of Fantasia.
“Ah, welcome, Ha-eun!”
Hye-min’s expression was lively, in contrast with her formal attire.
But Ha-eun’s gaze was drawn once again to the remarkable, conspicuous presence on Hye-min’s chest. She was informed that the other Fantasia members were already waiting.
“They’re all waiting for you, so let’s go say hello!”
It was also mentioned that the others already knew her identity.
This revelation made Ha-eun even more nervous. After walking down a long corridor, they finally reached the room where the other members waited.
- Squeak.
As Hye-min confidently opened the frosted glass door, Ha-eun found herself under the gaze of the others.
- Bow.
Without thinking, she respectfully bowed. At that moment, the women beyond the door seemed more like celebrities than any she’d met before.
Of course, the women, caught off guard by her polite gesture, thought:
‘…Shouldn’t we be the ones bowing to her?’
Ha-eun’s courtesy made them feel slightly embarrassed.