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To avoid walking into a passing group of people, I jog around as quickly as I can in the hanbok to where Minjee is. She hands me my phone, which has a picture of me pulled up on it.
“Swipe through these photos and tell me that this girl doesn’t belong in Korea,” Minjee says. “I dare you.”
I do what she says, and I’m shocked by how beautiful the pictures look. The scenery is pretty enough in person, but the phone camera adds a focused quality that makes the contrast between the traditional houses and urban skyline look stunning. And then there’s me, standing in the middle of all that. Minjee snapped photos all the way up until she told me to come look, so I can see the progression from me smiling to me breaking into hysterical laughter. I look so happy, and most importantly, Minjee is right. I do look like I belong in this city, with its complex and eclectic mix of the old and the new.
I flip back to the pictures Minjee and I took together today around the city.
Before I know it, I’m sniffling. Tears are falling fast.
I feel a gentle grasp on my wrist and look up to see Minjee’s worried expression.
“Whoa there,” she says. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I tell her, pausing to wipe my tears away. “Sorry. Today has just been so good. I’m grateful to have you in my life.”
“Aw, Hana.” Minjee’s eyes get shiny, like she’s about to tear up, too, before she rapidly shakes her head. “But wait! We’re not done yet! There’s one last phase left.”
I burst into surprised laughter, definitely no longer crying. “Okay, let’s go!”
Minjee holds out her hand. It takes me a moment to remember that in Korea, it’s perfectly normal for girls to hold hands when walking around. I slowly put my hand in hers, and my heart pounds in my chest as we walk the rest of the way up the hill together.
We pass by the houses and reach a broader street. I’m about to ask where we’re headed when Minjee stops and says, “Look!”
I glance at where she’s pointing and am once again amazed by the sight in front of me. While just moments before, we could see the city from where we were standing, we now have a picturesque view of Gyeongbokgung’s tallest buildings. The Royal Palace looks stately from where we’re standing. Complete with the surrounding mountains and the golden rays of the slowly setting sun in the horizon, it’s a sight fit for a Korean drama.
“Wow,” I say. “This is amazing. Minjee, I honestly don’t know how many times I can thank you. You’re such an incredible friend and I...”
I glance away from the view and trail off when I notice Minjee’s staring at me with a weird look in her eyes. Even though I’ve known her for years, I can’t place the expression on herface. Before I can figure out what it is, she drops her gaze to our joined hands and gives mine a slight squeeze.
“Glad you like it,” she says. Compared to how loud and enthusiastic she was being before, her sudden, quiet solemnness has me worried.
Did I do something wrong?I wonder. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t think of what might have upset her.
“Minjee?” I ask. “Is everything okay?”
She lets go of my hand and gets out her phone. “Of course! Now get up on that step by that fence. I want to take pictures of you with this view before the sun completely sets.”
I do as she says, and she snaps a few pictures.
Then, with a quick “Let’s go back before it gets dark,” she turns and walks away.
