The Big Day: Departure.
To be honest, I didn’t really feel it until I sat down for breakfast. It started off like any other day.
I couldn’t get up easily as usual, and Mija, who was now well-practiced in waking me, shook me fiercely.
Mija, with an almost robotic expression, said mechanically
“One, one, one, Hana-chan, wake up, wake up, wake up!”
“Ughhh, I got it, okay… Stop shaking me!”
After tidying up my appearance, I headed to the dining hall for breakfast. Once we finished eating, Oh Yujin-senpai and Juri waved at us.
“Take care!”
“Hana and Mija, both of you, have a good trip!”
“Yeah, Juri, take good care of the house while we’re gone.”
“Huh? Haha… Taking care of the house, you say?”
After seeing off those leaving for class preparations, we did a final check of our luggage.
“Whew…”
My luggage was simple.
Since I was traveling as a student, I only packed my uniform and a few casual clothes. I triple-checked important documents like my passport.
Exchanged currency and tools needed for our art installations were entrusted to Kim Palgon.
‘Palgon Sajangnim… or is he Uncle Palgon now? He said he’d wait at the airport with my uncle. I guess I’ll meet him there.’
Last weekend, my uncle shook hands with Kim Palgon and made a request.
– “Palgon-ah, take good care of Hana for me.”
– “Of course, hyungnim! I’ll guard her like she’s a VIP! Haha! Even if I just have a chopstick in my hand, I can take on ten yakuza! Hahaha!”
‘So reliable! Palgon-ah!’
– “Hahaha!”
– “Hahaha!”
“…”
Uh…
Well… I had a lot to say about that,
but anyway, it felt reassuring, so okay.
As I erased Kim Palgon’s boasting from my mind, I noticed Mija struggling with her suitcase next to me. Her luggage, stuffed to the brink, looked like it might explode at any moment.
“…Mija, I think bringing comic books is overdoing it.”
“Huh? But I only picked the funniest ones to bring.”
“We’re not going on some wilderness trip; you’re practically going to your spiritual home. Can’t you just buy them there?”
Mija chuckled, saying, “Really?” and started taking out her comics one by one. The suitcase, on the verge of bursting, quickly returned to a manageable state.
‘Is she the type to pack a ton of snacks she won’t even eat for a picnic?’
“Alright, shall we wash up and head out?”
“Yay, let’s go!”
We washed up as planned. Instead of heading to the art club for class, we went to the staff room to report to our homeroom teacher.
The teachers in the staff room gathered around to encourage us.
“Alright, Hana and Mija, learn a lot and experience new things at the workshop.”
“You’re still middle schoolers, so just think of it as a chance to see and try out lots of things without pressure.”
“Your uncle and Mija’s parents are taking you to the airport?”
“Yes, they said they’d be here soon.”
The teacher who had studied abroad in Japan smiled warmly at Mija.
“Mija, you’re good at Japanese, right? This is a great opportunity for you.”
“Ah, uh… yes, yes!”
Mija was the type who could confidently say, ‘I will save the world and protect you,’ in Japanese, but would get confused over something like, ‘Please pick up the pencil on the floor.’
So, the teacher’s praise left her flustered.
At some point, Professor Ahn Sooyoung from the study-abroad class approached me and handed me something.
“This is a museum I recommend in Japan. There’s a special exhibition on Impressionist painters right now, so make sure you go and check it out.”
“Oh, th-thank you.”
“And if anyone happens to ask about selling your work or making a profit, make it clear ‘Because of my visa, I’m not allowed to engage in commercial activities.’
Short-term study and simple exhibitions have entirely different purpose classifications from commercial activities, and it could cause trouble when you return.”
“Is that… so?”
“Mm-hmm, I’ve heard of a few incidents over the years while managing the study-abroad program.”
“…”
For some reason, her words felt heavy.
I looked at the pamphlet Professor Ahn had handed me. Although I couldn’t read Japanese, the kanji suggested it was an Impressionist exhibition at a national museum.
“….”
The pamphlet, filled with a language I didn’t know, suddenly made it all feel real.
‘So, I’m really going to another country.’
“…!”
Suddenly, I thought of Mari.
‘I wonder if she’s already in her studio. She’s so quiet in the mornings, you can’t really tell if she’s arrived.’
Even though we had seen each other over the weekend,
I felt like I should say goodbye one last time.
I turned to Mija, who was still struggling to answer the teachers’ questions.
“Mija, I’m going to say goodbye to Mari real quick. Call me if your parents or my uncle show up.”
“Huh? Oh, okay.”
Leaving my bag in the staff room, I headed to the studio where Mari always lounged.
Class had been in session for a while now. The usually bustling hallways were quiet. The familiar yet strange atmosphere guided me to Mari’s private studio.
Finally, I stood in front of her door and knocked.
Knock, knock.
“…It’s me.”
Click.
The door opened quietly.
Standing there was Mari, holding her right arm as usual, looking slightly tired.
“Huh? Hana? Isn’t today the day you leave…?”
“Yeah, I’m just about to go.”
“…”
“…”
We’d already said everything that needed to be said over time.
So, we just looked at each other and smiled.
A little hurt,
a little tired,
and not entirely fitting in at school,
but she was still here.
I said to Mari,
“I’ll be back.”
“Okay.”
*
My uncle waved his arms enthusiastically from a distance.
Standing at 190cm with a large frame, he was impossible to miss, even in the bustling airport. We could still spot him as we headed toward the check-in counter for our flight.
Beside him stood Mija’s parents, whose striking features made it clear where Mija got her glamorous looks. They wore strained, amused smiles.
“Have a safe trip!”
Since I was too far for my voice to reach him, I simply waved back energetically in return. Then we proceeded toward the check-in process.
Mija’s older brother, Yoo Geonwoo, addressed us with a calm tone.
“Hana, Mr. Kim, now you need to keep your passports and the boarding passes you just received on hand. If any staff ask, just show them.”
“!”
“!”
At his words, both I and Kim Palgon quickly pulled out our passports and boarding passes.
“Yes.”
“Yes, sir, team leader!”
Seeing our earnest response, Mija smirked smugly and mumbled, trying to act nonchalant.
“Uh, oppa… I think they’d already know that without you saying.”
“That kind of attitude—assuming ‘Oh, they’ll figure it out anyway’—is what causes problems. That’s how you end up leaving your passport behind or finding out your flight wasn’t booked properly. Remember when you almost forgot your passport during your trip to the U.S. with Grandma?”
“Th-th-that was ages ago! And it was just a mistake!”
“Sure, sure.”
“Ugh, whatever…”
Mija lightly shoved Geonwoo’s shoulder in frustration, but he didn’t even flinch, calmly continuing to escort us.
‘You act annoyed, Mija, but it’s obvious how relaxed you are having your brother around.’
Despite being a college student, Yoo Geonwoo was impressively meticulous.
From the moment we entered the airport’s main entrance to arriving at the boarding gate, we didn’t stop moving once—except for the waiting lines.
He gave us instructions in advance at every step, ensuring we were always ready.
‘I thought he just came along as Mija’s guardian, but wow, he’s seriously helpful.’
Yoo Geonwoo skillfully managed everything without a hitch, even while looking after an adult man traveling abroad for the first time and two middle school girls.
Unlike Mija, his appearance leaned more toward a typical East Asian look, but it seemed he had inherited the superior genes of Mija’s parents in a different way.
We didn’t encounter any problems until we boarded the plane. The seating arrangement was Mija by the window, me in the middle, and Kim Palgon on the aisle.
Since Yoo Geonwoo had booked his ticket separately at his own expense, he ended up seated somewhat apart from us.
Mija, grinning broadly, pulled out a digital camera. Her blue eyes sparkled as they reflected the sky over the runway.
“Mija-chan, all you can see outside is the runway. What are you even taking pictures of?”
“Uh, uhihihi… Japan trip! I’m going to document everything! I’ll treasure these forever.”
“…Okay.”
Just then, a well-dressed flight attendant approached and spoke to Mija in English.
“Excuse me, we’re about to take off. For the safety of all passengers, please stow your electronic devices. …Also, please fasten your seatbelt.”
“?”
Hearing English, Mija looked at me.
“She said we’re taking off soon, so turn off the camera and put on your seatbelt.”
“Oh, oh! I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Mija hurriedly put away her digital camera and fastened her seatbelt. The flight attendant looked slightly surprised as Mija responded in fluent Korean.
-Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are now preparing for takeoff…
As the plane began to tremble and ascend, Kim Palgon turned to me with a serious expression.
“Hana, the writer.”
“What is it, Uncle Palgon?”
“Even if this plane crashes, don’t worry. This man, Kim Palgon, has trained to rescue hostages from falling aircraft.”
“…Ah, well, that’s very reassuring.”
I let out an awkward chuckle in response.
Fortunately, the plane landed safely without incident.
We took an airport limousine bus to our accommodation. Upon arriving, we removed our shoes at the entrance and stepped inside.
Our assigned lodging was a tatami room that gave off the vibe of a traditional guesthouse. It even had a slightly worn-out feel to it.
‘Staying in a hotel for four weeks must have been out of budget,’ I thought.
But there was one good thing about it,
It immediately felt like we were in a foreign country.
‘Is this why foreigners visiting Korea often stay in guesthouses?’
The moment we arrived, Mija rushed to the window and flung it open. By then, night had fallen, revealing the Tokyo skyline.
Mija exclaimed in delight.
“Wow!”
“…Huh.”
Not a single trace of Korean could be seen in the scenery. Neon signs in red flickered here and there, advertising ramen shops and electronics stores.
From a distance, lively ad jingles mixed with broadcasts of “Irasshai!” echoed in the air.
Looking closer, there was a garden and front yard in a style rarely seen in Korea. The old bicycles and mail scattered around were covered in Japanese text. It felt truly foreign.
For the first time, I could physically feel that we had arrived in another country.
‘The workshop starts the day after tomorrow, right?’
I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of lives the people in this scenery led.
I also grew curious about what lessons awaited us.
“…”
Mija looked at me and said,
“Let’s go explore! I saw a convenience store on the way here. Let’s check it out too!”
“Just us?”
“No, with Palgon Uncle and Yoo Geonwoo too!”
“…Alright.”
*
On the day of the workshop, as I walked through the bustling corridors of the convention hall, someone called out to me.
It was a tall Japanese man dressed in a neat suit. He stood out as a distinguished middle-aged figure with white hair and sharp eyes.
The people around us began murmuring at the sight of him. Though they spoke in Japanese, their words were simple enough for me to understand.
– “Huh? Isn’t that Takashima-sensei?”
– “Who’s that kid with him?”
The man looked at me and gave a slight nod.
“Are you Go Hana?”
“…Yes, that’s me.”
I was a bit startled to hear him speaking in Korean.
With a composed demeanor, he introduced himself.
“I’m Itsuki Takashima, a former curator and contemporary art artist. For this workshop, I’ll be in charge of the session on ‘The Fusion of Media and Asian Culture.’”
Hearing his full name, I realized who he was. He was renowned for his diverse educational activities and often appeared as a senior guest at the Asia International Exchange Exhibitions.
In my memory, he had already seemed elderly. However, the man before me was a sharp-looking middle-aged gentleman in a well-tailored suit. Only his white hair was just as I remembered.
‘So his hair was already completely white 20 years ago…’
I awkwardly introduced myself in Korean.
“I’m Go Hana, a student at Hanul Comprehensive Arts School.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Takashima got straight to the point.
“I apologize for the suddenness, but would it be possible for you to give a presentation during my lecture tomorrow?”
“?”
…M-Me?
My heart raced at the unexpected proposal.