Seoul Train

Min’s hair was short. Just above the shoulders and dyed a bright color. She didn’t like to keep it long and black like most women in Korea. She liked to fit into the train crowd in another way.

Train riders were quiet. Coming and going, they only briefly saw each other. Then, they were strangers. Only Min attracted too much attention without meaning to. Was it her light makeup? Or the way her eyes lit the air? Whatever it was, it clung over her earbuds playing music. 

Desperate to get home, Min calmly checked the time on her phone. Oh no, she made a mistake.

Everyone on the train had something in common: they hated the upcoming Itaewon stop. For some, it was a great spot for foreigners in the country to hang out. To others, it was the neighbor blasting pop music at one in the morning. A hillside place where people from everywhere mingled would naturally have thousands waiting to board. This was one of the last trains of the day, too. They had to get on, now or never! 

Hyper people pushed their way toward Min. Being on a crowded train in her homeland, Japan, was normal. Still, she didn’t like it. “Sorry,” she quickly apologized when she accidentally touched someone. 

This time, it was a woman she’d seen before. Although they got on at different stations, they always got off at the same one. Until then, they had not said anything to each other.

The stranger’s it’s ok nod was friendly. “Are you okay?” the young woman, named Mona, mouthed in what Min thought could’ve been Japanese.

Mona’s kindness was met with a small nodding grin. This was more than enough to make Mona smile widely. 
The crowd slowly left. Min and Mona stayed still without talking. Mona motioned for Min to sit once a seat opened up. That was it. At least, until an elderly lady came in.

Min gracefully swung out of her seat, offering it to the granny. She was a ballerina on a train. A musical legend.
Mona shook herself out of her daze. “Are you a dancer?” she asked in accented Korean. She already knew the answer and was waiting for a chance to ask. Min’s handbag had Mona’s dance studio logo on it. Mona had spent many days looking at it before, but she hadn't found the courage to ask about it until now. 

Min softly replied, “I was.” Her voice was lost when people pounded in.

“What’s that?”

“I was a dancer. This is my stop.”

“Wait!” Mona shouted after Min. She saw a piece of jewelry on the floor that could be Min’s. Too bad she was already gone.

 

***

Mona shouldn’t have picked up the necklace. She wasn’t sure it belonged to the former dancer. Many people had swan necklaces. She huffed hard as she ran around the busy airport stop. Mona kept swerving through the crowds of tourists to chase after Min.
“Wait,” she shouted again. She pantingly reached for Min’s shoulder when she finally caught up to her. 

Min turned in shock. Meeting her eyes was her favorite golden swan in Mona’s firm hands.

Min’s hands went to her bare neck, “Oh my gosh, thank you. Thank you,” she exclaimed.

Mona nodded, “No problem.” She was too exhausted to talk in long, full sentences.

Min was delighted. She knew Mona’s accent. “Let me treat you to something,” she offered. She wanted to get to know Mona better.
Min’s almost makeup-free face was anything but simple. It was inviting and warm. And so Mona could only give her one answer: “If you insist, I’m always up for a quick snack.”

Over a table of cheese kimbap, spicy kimchi ramen, and other snacks, they were both smiling like idiots without a single word to say to each other. They had already discussed the weather and complimented each other. And now, both were awkwardly silent again.
Min used to shake when it was her turn to talk in class. Mona used to be surprised and make a strange noise whenever called on. Without a clear leader, they kept sitting in silence. Looking up, then hastily looking down.

They were silent, then laughed at each other’s awkwardness. Min kind of expected this. Making friends had always been hard for her. What made her try today? 

Throughout her school days, kids thought Min was a loner. They mistook her nervous face for a cold stare and avoided her. Because of this, Min tried to look at Mona extra tenderly today. She did the hardest thing for her: she started a real conversation. A deep one.

 

“You’re right. I was a dancer until a couple of years ago.” 

Mona didn’t know what to say back. Should she say knew based on Min’s bag? At a loss, Mona bit her lips and just nodded.

 

Min talked with a mouse-like voice. Struggling to hear her in the crowded shop, Mona had to inch closer and stare at her lips to figure out what she was saying. This made her even more nervous than usual. 

 

“You’re a Japanese dancer, too, aren’t you?” Min guessed. She hadn’t talked to anyone about dance for a while now. Now, the words waltzed out of her. 

 

Mona nodded happily. She had been upset to hear that Min was no longer a dancer. Talk of dance would do though. Still struggling with Korean, Mona was a pro in the international language of dance.

 

“Working here in Korea as a dancer must be such a thrilling challenge for you. Makes me think of when I first began,” Min said.

 

Nodding again, Mona found her voice. She was squeakily excited as she spoke in Japanese. “Definitely! Seoul is so different from Osaka. K-pop dance choreo is so different, too. Where are you from? Where did you dance?” She asked one question right after another.

 

Min matched her enthusiasm for a bit. Her joy faded as the stores dimmed their lights. She was supposed to only be a visiting dancer in Korea. A train of unpredictable situations kept her here. Sometimes, the train moved forward, and other times, it moved backward. Min felt like she was going backwards.

 

“Well,” she began. 

 

An alarm went off on Mona’s phone, cutting Min off. 

 

“Huh?” Mona gasped. Time had flown since she left the train she was supposed to be on. “I have to go,” she sighed with much regret. 

 

“Ah, I see,” Min tried to cover up her frown. She was too shy to ask for  Mona’s contact information. “It was nice talking to you.”

 

Min supposed this would be the end. She had been silly to think meeting on a train could be something more like in romcoms. In the real world, people met and said goodbye all the time. Maybe she should stop watching cheesy Asian TV dramas.

 

Waving goodbye, the two got back to their own tracks, separately, until Min turned around to look at her friend for a second longer. Every ending was also a beginning. Maybe in their next meeting, they’d find her true beginning.

 

“It was nice meeting you. Have a good night!” Mona suddenly yelled after her. 

 

Min waved back wordlessly. The necklace Mona had helped her put back on shimmered on her neck.

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Author T. Lee is an Asian American living outside the U.S. She loves to read, write, and travel. She hopes she can write things that both children and adults would like to read.

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