BCN The streets outside the stadium buzzed with the energy of post-match conversations, the air was animated by the voices of football fans spilling from the stadium and the smell of fried street food drifting from vendors nearby.
Sara walked alongside her father, heir pace leisurely against the tide of fans heading towards the subway stop.
‘It wasn’t a great match,’ Dong-hyun remarked with mild disappointment.
Sara nodded, adjusting her scarf against the evening chill.
‘Barça seemed unmotivated, as if the chance of the game had already been decided before they stepped onto the field.’ Her father let out a low chuckle, the sound blending with the murmurs of the crowd dispersing into the city.
‘Even so, I still had a good time,’ he said, a faint, almost imperceptible warmth lingering in his voice.
‘Me too,’ Sara replied.
‘Even though we see each other every day at work, I really enjoy doing things like this with you.
It feels…
different.
‘They passed a group of jubilant fans chanting a team anthem, their voices echoing against the walls of nearby buildings.
They walked in silence for a few moments.
The night seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for Sara to speak the thought she had been carrying for days.
Sara glanced at her father, her expression growing thoughtful.
‘Dad,’ she began hesitantly, ‘I’ve been thinking of going to Korea in September.
Would you like to come with me?
‘Dong-hyun paused, considering her words as they turned down a quieter street.
‘I’d love to,’ he said, sincerity softening his tone, ‘but I won’t be able to in September.
The new project with GDV will be kicking off, and I’ll need to be there.
You should still go, though—enjoy the trip.’ Sara nodded, her expression not entirely surprised.
‘Maybe you could go with your friends,’ he ventured.
‘However didn’t you mention all four of you only have a few days off together this year?’ Dong-hyun asked.
‘Yes,’ Sara confirmed.
‘We managed to align five days in August.
We’re planning a short trek in the mountains.
But it’ll be tough to take more time off.’ Dong-hyun stopped walking for a moment, turning to face her.
The warmth in his eyes reminded her of the countless times he’d encouraged her to take on the world, no matter the obstacles.
‘Then go alone,’ he said simply.
‘Korea is safe, and you won’t have any trouble meeting people there.
It might even be more meaningful that way.’ The words hung in the air like an offering.
Sara inhaled deeply, as if gathering courage from the very breath of the night.
‘You’re right,’ she said at last.
‘I’ve been putting it off for too long.
Tomorrow, I’ll book the flights.’ ‘That’s my girl,’ Dong-hyun said with quiet pride.
‘I love how my daughter makes decisions.’ The noise of the crowd had faded into the distance, leaving only the rhythmic click of their footsteps on the cobblestones.
Sara lifted her gaze to the sky, it was full of stars despite the light contamination of the city, and she felt the certainty of her decision settle within her.
… SEOUL, February 1991 The small apartment on the outskirts of town was quiet.
Yoo-sun stood in the modest but tidy kitchen, her slender hands moving with a mechanical grace as if each movement could somehow shield her from the storm she felt looming.
Sara, her baby girl, lay finally asleep in a crib nearby.
It had taken hours to lull her to sleep.
Hours of rocking, whispering lullabies, and pacing the room as the baby cried inconsolably.
Usually, Sara slept easily, her bedtime routine predictable.
But the past few weeks had been different.
Yoo-sun could feel it in the way Sara clung to her, the little fingers gripping her shirt insistently, the way her cries wouldn’t subside even when she was fed or rocked.
She knew, Yoo-sun thought.
Even though Sara couldn’t speak, couldn’t form the words to ask what was wrong, she had felt it.
Yoo-sun was sure of it.
Children had a way of sensing the unexpressed, a sensitivity to emotion that adults often lost, words becoming the enemy of communication.
Sara must have sensed their discomfort, the weight of their worry spilling over despite their efforts to hide it.
The room was finally silent, except for the rhythmic sound of Sara’s breathing, the rise and fall of her little chest a soothing cadence like a song.
The door creaked open, breaking the stillness.
Dong-hyun entered.
His posture was defeated, his face a silent desperation.
Yoo-sun turned, her brow furrowed with worry.
‘What happened?
Why did you come back so soon?’ She hesitated for a moment, then let the words fall like stones in a still pond.
‘The company has kindly informed me that they no longer require my services.’ His voice was laced with bitter irony.
She froze, her hand tightening on the edge of her chair.
‘Again?’ She asked in disbelief.
‘I can’t believe my family is pushing us to this point.’ ‘Don’t worry,’ Dong-hyun said, attempting a faint smile that never reached his eyes.
‘I’ll find another job.’ But Yoo-sun shook her head, the tremor in her voice betraying her growing desperation.
‘And then what?
What when my brother finds out where you work?
They’ll make sure you get fired again in a few weeks.
We can’t go on like this.’ He leaned in, lowering his voice as if to calm her frayed nerves.
‘What can we do?
Your family has too much influence, and I’m just an engineer.’ His hands tightened on the chair, his knuckles white.
‘I can’t take this pressure anymore,’ she whispered.
‘The constant monitoring, the endless interference.
My father doesn’t even see us as a real marriage.
They think they can wear us down until we give up and break up.’ Dong-hyun took her hand, his touch a plea.
‘I know.
Their stubbornness is senseless.
But what can we do?’ His voice softened.
‘What do you think we should do?’ Yoo-sun turned back to the stove, clutching the chair as if it were the only thing anchoring her to the ground.
When she spoke again, her voice was low and unsteady.
‘I can’t take this pressure anymore,’ she said, her words shaking.
‘I’ve thought of a solution… but it’s drastic,’ she said, her words hesitant at first, then stronger.
‘What if we leave the country?
Start over somewhere else, away from all this?’ ‘Leave?’ Dong-hyun’s voice was a mix of surprise and apprehension.
‘You mean leave everything behind?’ ‘Yes.’ She nodded firmly, the tremor gone from her voice.
‘I’ve been thinking about this for a while now.
If we stay here, my family will never stop interfering.
They’ll suffocate us.
We’ll never have a chance to build our own happiness.’ Dong-hyun turned her words over in his mind, his gaze shifting to his sleeping daughter.
‘I understand,’ he said after a long pause.
‘But where would we go?
And how could we even begin to build a new life in a foreign place?’ Yoo-sun moved closer to him, her face alight with determination.
‘There are places where we can start over.
Remember my college friend who moved to Italy?
She teaches oriental art now and has built a beautiful life for herself there.
It’s possible, Dong-hyun.
We could do the same.’ He looked at her, his expression softening as her determination crept into him.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked finally.
‘This is a huge decision, and it won’t be easy.
But if this is what you truly want, I’ll stand by you.’ ‘I know it,’ she said, her voice steady.
‘I’d rather risk it all with you than live a life dictated by my parents.
We need to create something of our own—something they can’t touch.’ He nodded slowly, her conviction seeping into his own.
A faint smile broke through the exhaustion on his face.
‘Then we’ll figure it out.
Together.
No matter how difficult it gets, we’ll overcome it.’ So this was it—the end of pretending that things would somehow get better if they just kept holding on.
Dong-hyun knew Yoo-sun was right.
Her family wouldn’t stop—not until they had driven a wedge between them or crushed him entirely.
Job after job, rejection after rejection, humiliation piling on humiliation… and for what?
To prove he was worthy of her in their eyes?
He could see it in Yoo-sun’s eyes—she was exhausted.
They both were.
Italy.
A new life.
The very idea sounded reckless.
They had no jobs waiting for them, no savings to cushion the landing.
He didn’t even speak the language.
But maybe the unknown was still better than this slow, quiet erosion of everything they had tried to build.
Maybe risking everything was the only way to truly begin again.
What mattered now was creating something her family couldn’t touch—something that was just theirs.
… SEOUL, 2021 Nari glanced at her phone for the third time in the last five minutes, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her cup, her eyes occasionally darted to the door as though anticipating an arrival.
The café was a small, cozy place tucked into a quiet corner of the city.
Normally, the quiet atmosphere that characterized it would have been a comfort, but today it did little to ease her anxiety.
She was always shy, painfully so, and yet here she was, about to meet a stranger for coffee.
Here she was, questioning her decision to agree with her mother.
She stirred her coffee absentmindedly, telling herself this was just a simple favor.
Nothing more.
But why did it feel like so much more?
Meeting strangers was not her strong suit.
Talking to strangers was even worse.
What would they talk about?
The thought made her stomach churn.
‘Let’s hope he talks about himself,’ she muttered under her breath, imagining the awkward silences she would have to fill otherwise.
With her tendency to overthink and her insecurity, she didn’t feel like she had anything remotely interesting to say.
As if on cue, the door to the café opened, and a taste of cold air followed a tall, broad-shouldered man into the room.
He looked around, and their eyes met for a moment.
Without hesitation, he approached the counter, ordering with an efficiency that seemed to fill the room.
Nari, glancing up, allowed herself a fleeting smile of amusement as she muttered under her breath, ‘This can’t be the ugly investigator.’ Her eyes returned to her phone, but her attention lingered on him as he moved toward her table, balancing two steaming cups.
He sets them down, his security unflinching, like a breeze that doesn’t ask for permission to enter.
‘Hello!’ he greeted.
‘I got two different coffees—one with milk, one without.
Wasn’t sure which you’d prefer.’ Nari blinked, caught off guard.
‘You are Kim Nari, right?’ he continued, his smile unfaltering.
‘Yes, I am,’ she replied, her brow arching in curiosity.
‘How did you know it was me?’ ‘Your profile photo gave it away,’ he said simply, as though the answer was self-evident.
‘I did a quick search, but it seems you’re not very active on social media.’ ‘No, I’m not.
You, on the other hand, seem really… direct.’ ‘In the U.S., it’s normal to gather some context about the person you’re meeting,’ he said with an air of practiced nonchalance.
‘That may be true here too,’ she replied, ‘but we usually don’t announce it to the person, especially when we’ve just met.’ He chuckled.
‘Noted.
So, with or without milk?’ ‘With milk, thanks’ Nari said, gesturing for him to sit.
He obliged, lowering himself into the seat across from her.
‘Did you arrive just a week ago?’ she asked.
‘Yes, and yesterday was my first official day at work,’ Eu-jin replied.
‘Starting on a Friday?’ she asked.
He nodded.
‘Just introductions and meeting the team.
A soft start.’ ‘My mother mentioned you’re in biomedical research.
What’s your focus?’.
‘Oncology,’ he answered simply.
Nari’s expression softened.
‘That must be fascinating… and a bit of a pressure.’ ‘Pressure?’ he asked, curious.
‘Well, your work could profoundly impact lives—not immediate, like a doctor, but in the long term.’ Eu-jin tilted his head, considering her words.
‘I’ve never thought of it that way.’ ‘It’s a profession that brings hope,’ Nari continued.
He let out a small laugh, shaking his head.
‘No one’s ever seen my work in such a sentimental light before.
Usually, I’m just called a laboratory rat.’ ‘Do you see yourself that way?’ she asked.
He laughed, shaking his head.
‘No.
More like a tiger… hunting for prey.’ Nari’s eyes widened in surprise at his bold metaphor.
‘I mean,’ he quickly clarified, ‘searching for treatments, for the best molecules.’ Nari laughed, her initial surprise melting into amusement.
‘A predatory researcher?’ ‘Something like that.’ The conversation flowed, the initial awkwardness dissolving as they exchanged stories.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Nari forgot about her nerves.
She forgot about the awkward silences she’d feared and the insecurity that usually held her back.
Eu-jin revealed the challenges of returning to Korea after years abroad, his ambivalence about moving back in with his parents at his age, and the courage it took to leave a life behind.
‘Living with my parents again at 31… It’s a whole new experience,’ he admitted with a sheepish grin.
‘Are you really thirty-one?’ she asked, feigning incredulity.
‘I’m thirty-two.
You should be speaking to me with respect.’ Eu-jin laughed, a warm sound that drew a few curious glances from nearby tables.
‘I would have anyway,’ he said playfully.
‘Will you stay with your parents long?’ ‘Absolutely not.
I’m already looking for an apartment,’ he declared.
‘If I hear of a place, I’ll let you know,’ Nari offered.
‘Thank you!
It’s not easy finding something in Seoul,’ Eu-jin said.
‘you would me a big favor’ ‘Are you looking just for yourself?
Or would you consider sharing?’ Nari blushed and hastily added, ‘I mean… my brother’s friend sometimes shares his place with foreigners.
It’s spacious, with a huge terrace.’ Eu-jin smiled, clearly amused.
‘Why foreigners?’ ‘He likes the international vibe,’ Nari explained.
‘I could ask if he’s interested.’ ‘I’d appreciate that,’ he said.
‘Could you call him now?’.
‘You don’t waste time, do you?’ she asked, shaking her head.
‘Understand me—it’s hard living with my parents,’ he said, feigning exasperation.
By the time they discussed housing, Nari was already dialing her brother’s friend, Jang Sang-in.
The phone call unfolded with Nari embellishing Eu-jin’s American mannerisms to pique Sang-in’s interest.
After a brief conversation, she hung up and turned to Eu-jin.
‘He wants to meet you tomorrow afternoon.
My brother will be there too.
If it works for you, I’ll pick you up at 7:00 p.m.’ ‘Perfect,’ Eu-jin replied.
‘Thank you.’ Eu-jin leaned forward, his smile teasing but curious.
‘Am I really very American?’ he asked, echoing the words Nari had just used to describe him to Sang-in.
She shrugged, her expression mischievous.
‘I had to emphasize your foreign charm.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been interested.’ ‘Ah,’ he said, nodding sagely, though his eyes sparkled with mirth.
‘By the way, I hope you like European football,’ she added casually.
‘I don’t understand anything about European football,’ Eu-jin confessed.
‘But I’ll study tomorrow morning.’ The arrangement was made, and they parted with plans to meet the next day.
As Nari walked away, she felt the faintest flutter of anticipation, as though something momentous had been set in motion in that café.
Maybe she wasn’t as shy as she thought.
Maybe, just maybe, she had more to say than she’d given herself credit for.
Eu-jin stood there watching her as she walked away feeling a strange sensation, for the first time he was absolutely sure of his decision to return to Korea.