Later, as the sun started dipping toward the horizon, the two stroll along the beach.
Sara savors an ice cream, her mood seemed lighter now, while Seon-woo sips an ice coffee.
In the distance, the laughter and shouts of boys playing football mingled with the crashing of the waves.
‘You happy now with your ‘ice cream of happiness’?’ Seon-woo teased.
Sara grinned, holding up the cone as if it were a trophy.
‘Very happy!
Look at this view—it’s impossible not to fall in love with Jeju all over again.’ ‘Am I included in the postcard?’ ‘Of course!’ Sara replied with mock seriousness.
She framed the view with her hands, forming a rectangle with her thumbs and forefingers, mimicking the act of capturing a postcard.
‘Chashhh!
Sent it!’ Seon-woo smirked, taking another sip of coffee.
‘I’ll keep it in my album of memories.
I’ll write, ‘Unnamed girl who liked ice cream, sunrises, and running’…
Oh no, wait.
I correct myself…
‘to disappear.” Sara laughed, shaking her head.
‘It’s not a bad caption.
I’ll write, ‘Unnamed boy who liked Japanese books, smiling, and who was deceptively empathetic.” For a moment, the air between them grew still, charged with a quiet understanding.
Seon-woo’s smile softened, and he took a sip of his coffee, as though trying to conceal the faint flush that had crept into his cheeks.
‘I don’t just like the Japanese,’ he murmured, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
‘You see?
We don’t know anything about each other.
Shouldn’t we at least tell each other something?’ Sara tilted her head, considering his words.
‘Fair enough,’ she said, finishing her ice-cream and bending down to pick up a wooden stick from the sand.
She began drawing concentric circles in the sand, the movement deliberate, almost ritualistic.
‘But with one condition,’ Sara added ‘In this circle,’ she explained, pointing to the smallest one, ‘are questions like names, countries, work—basic stuff.
It’s an insurmountable barrier.
Not allowed.’ She crossed her arms dramatically, as if warding off invisible forces.
Then, pointing to the middle circle, she said.
‘Here are the semi-personal questions.
They’re allowed, but only if they’re well-formulated.’ Finally, she pointed to the largest circle, the one closest to their feet.
‘And here are the other questions—like, ‘Do you like horror movies?’ or ‘What’s your shoe size?” Seon-woo laughed, shaking his head.
‘You’re very bossy!’ he said, twirling the stick she had abandoned.
‘And I don’t think I care much about your shoe size.’ ‘Good,’ she said, feigning relief.
‘That’s one less question to answer.’ ‘Okay,’ Seon-woo conceded.
‘But I feel like this is the three wishes you ask a genie.
Now I’m blank.’ Sara raised an eyebrow, waiting.
‘What do you want to know about me?
Maybe I’m more boring than you think.’ ‘You don’t look boring… Let’s see… Yes, why do you live abroad?’ he asked.
‘Easy!
For my parents’ job, and now mine,’ Sara replied.
‘You don’t seem to like your job,’ Seon-woo observed, studying her.
Sara tilted her head in surprise.
‘?’ ‘Before, you mentioned that you studied a chef’s course…’ he explained.
Sara smiled.
‘This seems like another question, but I’m a good person, so I’ll answer without deducting it from you,’ she teased.
Then, reflective, she added, ‘I like my job, and I do it well, but I didn’t choose it by vocation.
So, from time to time, I look for escapes.’ ‘And so far, you haven’t found any that satisfy you?’ Seon-woo asked gently probing.
‘Mmh, maybe I’ll never find it, and I’ll work as beep-job in beep-country all my life!’ Sara laughed, then turned the tables.
‘Do you like your job?’ ‘Is that one of your questions?’ Seon-woo countered with a smirk.
‘No!
You’re learning quickly,’ Sara said, laughing.
‘I just gave you one.’ ‘Okay!
Yes, I like it a lot.
I’m lucky—I dedicate myself to what I love the most.
Maybe I could dedicate myself even a little more.’ ‘In what sense?’ Sara asked, intrigued.
Seon-woo pointed to the innermost circle in the sand.
‘If I answer you, we’d move into this circle.
Do you want to go there?’ Sara shook her head quickly.
‘Ehh, no no!
We stay in this one,’ she said, pointing to the middle circle.
‘Next question.’ ‘Let’s see… Who is your favorite writer?’ Seon-woo asked.
Sara’s face lit up, though she paused to consider.
‘This question technically belongs to the first circle since you can understand my tastes from what I answer.’ ‘That’s why I asked it,’ Seon-woo said with a knowing grin.
Sara nodded.
‘Important premise: I’m a compulsive reader.
If I start a book, I can’t stop.
I like the classics, from the Greeks to the Americans.
And with the modern ones, I’m very, very demanding.
But if I had to choose… I’d tell you the Russians, and in particular… Dostoievsky.
He’s my favorite.’ ‘Why?’ Seon-woo asked, genuinely curious.
‘Because when I read him, it’s as if he takes me by the hand and accompanies me to discover the true being of his characters—even their most negative and weak aspects,’ ‘You really like him,’ Seon-woo remarked, impressed.
‘Yes… When I retire, I’ll learn Russian and read all his books in Russian!
What do you think of my retirement plan?’ ‘I love it!
I’ll copy it from you, but with another language,’ Seon-woo replied, smiling.
‘Fine!
Your last question… then it’s my turn,’ Sara prompted.
‘Okay, okay!
A very easy one… What is your favorite food?’ Seon-woo asked.
Sara hesitated.
‘I’m embarrassed to say it.’ ‘Why?
Is it something like snake, cricket, or a bird’s nest?’ Seon-woo teased.
‘No!
It’s because it’s the most trivial thing in the world,’ Sara admitted.
‘Okay, I’ll say it.
And with pride… I’m really crazy about French fries!’ ‘French fries?’ Seon-woo asked.
‘If I see French fries, I can’t help but eat them.
When I’m in a restaurant and walk by a table that has them, I can’t help but think about stealing one,’ Sara confessed.
Seon-woo laughed heartily.
‘Your love for French fries is almost delirious!’ ‘I know, I confess!
You see?
I told you I’m boring,’ ‘With the confession of the fries, yes… you’re a little… but I forgive you!
I like them too, though not as much as you do,’ Seon-woo replied playfully.
‘Now, you have to ask your questions.’ Sara thought for a moment before asking, ‘Let’s see… We met at an airport, but you didn’t seem in a good mood.
Do you like to travel?
If so, where?’ Seon-woo smirked.
‘To begin with, these are two questions, dear Mystery Miss.
But like you, I’m also generous and will answer both.’ ‘Thank you, Sir!’ Sara replied with a mock bow.
‘I really like to travel, but not so much for work.
As soon as I can, I take a suitcase and leave’.
‘Alone?’ Sara asked instinctively.
Seon-woo raised a hand, laughing.
‘Ah ah, this question is here in the first circle—insurmountable!’ Sara laughed, conceding.
‘Okay!
You’re right!
Countries?’ ‘I know almost all of Asia.
I’ve been to the USA a couple of times…’ ‘Europe?’ Sara asked.
‘I’ve been to southern Europe… Greece, France, Spain, Italy.
I guess you know some?’ Sara smiled.
‘Mmhh, yes… some better than others.’ ‘From southern Europe?’ Seon-woo probed.
Sara shook her head with a small smile, her gaze following the faint outlines of fishing boats bobbing on the horizon.
‘No,’ she said, pointing to the concentric circles drawn in the sand.
‘The circle rules don’t allow me to answer that too directly.’ She paused, her tone softening, as though unearthing a cherished memory.
‘But with my university friends, every summer we’d visit two or three countries by train.
It was such a joy—long nights laughing in cramped compartments.
I guess you could say I know a little bit of all of Europe.’ ‘Do you still do it?’ Seon-woo’s voice held a note of wistfulness.
Sara hesitated, her smile tinged with a touch of regret.
‘Not as much,’ she admitted.
‘We all work now, and one of us is married.
Life gets… complicated.
So we settle for shorter trips these days.’ Seon-woo looked at her thoughtfully, his empty coffee cup cradled in both hands.
‘I wonder,’ he said, almost to himself, ‘what it would be like to travel with you.’ Sara’s eyes flickered to his, amused but unreadable.
She deflected the thought with practiced ease.
‘Next question,’ she said, brushing sand off her palms.
‘An easy one—what’s your favorite food?’ Seon-woo didn’t need to think.
‘I have a passion for coffee,’ he declared, taking a deliberate last sip from his cup, as if to punctuate his statement.
Sara laughed, gesturing to the cup in his hand.
‘You too?
My friend here also seems to enjoy coffee,’ she teased.
‘But coffee’s not a meal.’ He shrugged with a grin.
‘Fine, if you’re being strict—ramyeon, pasta, mandu, udon, wonton, soba… basically anything related to carbs.’ ‘Carbohydrates!’ Sara exclaimed, her laughter ringing out.
‘You’ll be an old man with a tummy!
I like the idea.’ ‘To eat all that, I’ll just have to keep running until I’m 90,’ he countered.
Their shared laughter settled into a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of waves gently lapping at the shore.
Sara’s tone softened as she asked, ‘Last question.
Do you regret something in your life?’ Seon-woo raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the gravity of her words.
‘Do you mean mistakes I’ve made that still hurt?’ he asked cautiously.
She shook her head.
‘No,’ she clarified.
‘I mean the opposite.
Something you would have wanted to do but didn’t—because of fear, hesitation, or anything else.’ He looked out at the water, considering her words.
The horizon seemed infinite, stretching beyond his thoughts.
‘Something I didn’t do because I was afraid of being wrong?’ he mused.
‘I don’t know… I can’t think of anything important.
No, I don’t think I have any regrets.’ Sara exhaled softly, a hint of envy crossing her expression.
‘You’re lucky,’ she said.
‘In life, it’s always better to have remorse for what you’ve done than regrets for what you didn’t even try.
I like to think I’m brave, but sometimes I wonder how many chances I’ve missed out of fear.
I envy you for that.’ At that moment, the boys playing football kicked their ball too far, sending it rolling toward them.
Sara rose and returned it with a swift, confident kick that sent it soaring back.
Seon-woo watched her with admiration, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
‘Perfect,’ he murmured, almost to himself.
As the sky started to dark, Sara glanced at him.
‘Don’t you have your flight at 8 o’clock?
You should leave.’ Seon-woo hesitated, reluctant.
‘I’ll accompany you to your hotel before.’ ‘I prefer to stay here a little longer,’ Sara said with a soft smile.
Seon-woo studied her for a moment, then nodded.
‘I’ll see you in a few days, right?
Won’t you disappear?’ Sara smiled enigmatically, saying nothing.
With one last glance, Seon-woo walked away, the sound of the waves fading behind him.
Sara watched him go, the stick still in her hand.
The circles in the sand were gone now, dissolved into nothingness.