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"I really like your jacket."
Jisun couldn't help but reach for the lapel of her black, loosely blazer-inspired jacket and adjusting it. "Thanks," she replied plainly, giving Anastasia a brief once-over. The other girl's outfit was fairly simple and perhaps semi-formal by typical standards, but it suited the her well, and definitely wasn't fancy enough to garner Anastasia any strange looks in the restaurant they were going to.
Jisun nodded along when Anastasia mentioned needing a subway card. "Public transporation in New York is a lot cheaper and more efficient than driving," she told the other girl. "A subway card will be really beneficial, especially if you like going out." Jisun clearly wasn't one to leave the apartment much -- she got most of her Vitamin D from walking Dal, and rarely interacted with anyone except for the Rottweiler. She wondered if Anastasia was the same; some people in the world were clearly extroverts, and some, like Jisun, were obvious recluses. Anastasia didn't seem to clearly land on either side of the spectrum; she was definitely more of an extrovert than Jisun, but she didn't really seem like a party girl either.
"Be good, okay Dal?" Jisun said lowly to the Rottweiler, who seemed to bark in affirmation. With a final scratch to his head, Jisun stood up and led Anastasia outside the apartment. She glanced upwards at the sky, frowning at the lack of stars. In big cities like New York, the night sky and its stars were often mottled out by the blaring city lights. Jisun liked the city and she liked modern life, and she most certainly liked her lifestyle in America more than the starvation she went through in North Korea, but sometimes, she missed the time when she was young. Back in Sinuiju and the countryside of North Korea, the city would be a field of darkness, and the glittering stars in the sky would be the only source of light for miles. Jisun was still a night person, but the nights of New York and the nights of Sinuiju were incomparable.
Jisun descended down the stairs of the subway station, and was quickly met with the cacophony of noises that came from the bustling of people and the whooshing of passing trains. Before, she wasn't fond of the noise, and wanted only silence. But Jisun learned to find peace in the sounds of people passing; it made her recognize her own insignificance as a singular person in the cycle of the universe. The crowds of people only emphasized her own anonymity.
Jisun had taken a seat next to Anastasia, and was surprised to hear the words that came out of the other girl's mouth. I was just mulling over something so similar, Jisun mused to herself, surprised and lowly amused.
"I guess that's an interesting way to see it," Jisun responded. "I've never been in a position similar to yours at your academy, so I suppose I can't understand that. It's a little jarring to see yourself as one person in the crowd, and to recognize how small you are in the grand scheme of the universe. But this is normal here -- I suppose it might take a little while to get used to it."
Jisun tapped Anastasia's shoulder when the train arrived to the next stop. She led the girl out of the station, walking half a block to the Korean restaurant she so adored. Byeoljji BBQ wasn't a large restaurant, nor was it a tiny one. It was quaint, and had many loyal customers, but rarely had all of its tables filled. Yet, it was Jisun's favorite restaurant, even surpassing the one a few neighborhoods down that had won a Michelin star (though, said restaurant was a close second). Maybe Jisun was biased; of course, the food was incredible without a doubt, but the owner and the sous chef of Byeoljji BBQ were North Korean defectors -- just like Jisun.
"Jisun-ah, is that you?" A voice called out in Korean as Jisun stepped into the store. Jisun admittedly did not eat out often, but the staff all remembered her since the first time she came to the restaurant. Jisun was convinced it was because they saw the sliver of North Korean that still lived on within her from the moment she spoke.
"Did you bring a friend?" Yoonseok, the owner of the voice, continued, still in Korean. He was a cashier and a server, and he was a South Korean immigrant. His face was bright and youthful, and the cheerfulness of his personality always leaked into his demeanor. "Hold on, lemme get Byeoljji and Bokyung." As soon as Yoonseok called out their names, the two older Koreans bustled out of the kitchen.
"Jisunie," Byeoljji, the owner and founder of the restaurant, said warmly. She was around the age Jisun's mother would've been if she was still alive. Her eyes crinkled with smile lines, and despite her tiny frame, her demeanor was motherly and all-encompassing. "How are you? And oh -- who's your friend?"
"I'm doing well," Jisun responded. Her tone wasn't particularly warm with any obvious emotion, but Byeoljji smiled all the same. "This is Anastasia," Jisun turned to the other girl, finally switching to English.
"Oh! Hello, Ana-stay-ja," Byeoljji said in heavily broken English. "My name is Byeoljji." She turned back to Jisun. "Tell her I said that it's lovely to meet Jisunie's friend! Take a seat, you two. I'll send Yoonseok to serve you soon." And with a final bow to Anastasia, Byeoljji hobbled back to the kitchen. Bokyung, her husband, gave Jisun a nod before following his wife back. He was a man of few words, but he was genuine.
Jisun relayed the words to Anastasia. "If you have any questions about what to order, just ask," she added.
Jisun couldn't help but reach for the lapel of her black, loosely blazer-inspired jacket and adjusting it. "Thanks," she replied plainly, giving Anastasia a brief once-over. The other girl's outfit was fairly simple and perhaps semi-formal by typical standards, but it suited the her well, and definitely wasn't fancy enough to garner Anastasia any strange looks in the restaurant they were going to.
Jisun nodded along when Anastasia mentioned needing a subway card. "Public transporation in New York is a lot cheaper and more efficient than driving," she told the other girl. "A subway card will be really beneficial, especially if you like going out." Jisun clearly wasn't one to leave the apartment much -- she got most of her Vitamin D from walking Dal, and rarely interacted with anyone except for the Rottweiler. She wondered if Anastasia was the same; some people in the world were clearly extroverts, and some, like Jisun, were obvious recluses. Anastasia didn't seem to clearly land on either side of the spectrum; she was definitely more of an extrovert than Jisun, but she didn't really seem like a party girl either.
"Be good, okay Dal?" Jisun said lowly to the Rottweiler, who seemed to bark in affirmation. With a final scratch to his head, Jisun stood up and led Anastasia outside the apartment. She glanced upwards at the sky, frowning at the lack of stars. In big cities like New York, the night sky and its stars were often mottled out by the blaring city lights. Jisun liked the city and she liked modern life, and she most certainly liked her lifestyle in America more than the starvation she went through in North Korea, but sometimes, she missed the time when she was young. Back in Sinuiju and the countryside of North Korea, the city would be a field of darkness, and the glittering stars in the sky would be the only source of light for miles. Jisun was still a night person, but the nights of New York and the nights of Sinuiju were incomparable.
Jisun descended down the stairs of the subway station, and was quickly met with the cacophony of noises that came from the bustling of people and the whooshing of passing trains. Before, she wasn't fond of the noise, and wanted only silence. But Jisun learned to find peace in the sounds of people passing; it made her recognize her own insignificance as a singular person in the cycle of the universe. The crowds of people only emphasized her own anonymity.
Jisun had taken a seat next to Anastasia, and was surprised to hear the words that came out of the other girl's mouth. I was just mulling over something so similar, Jisun mused to herself, surprised and lowly amused.
"I guess that's an interesting way to see it," Jisun responded. "I've never been in a position similar to yours at your academy, so I suppose I can't understand that. It's a little jarring to see yourself as one person in the crowd, and to recognize how small you are in the grand scheme of the universe. But this is normal here -- I suppose it might take a little while to get used to it."
Jisun tapped Anastasia's shoulder when the train arrived to the next stop. She led the girl out of the station, walking half a block to the Korean restaurant she so adored. Byeoljji BBQ wasn't a large restaurant, nor was it a tiny one. It was quaint, and had many loyal customers, but rarely had all of its tables filled. Yet, it was Jisun's favorite restaurant, even surpassing the one a few neighborhoods down that had won a Michelin star (though, said restaurant was a close second). Maybe Jisun was biased; of course, the food was incredible without a doubt, but the owner and the sous chef of Byeoljji BBQ were North Korean defectors -- just like Jisun.
"Jisun-ah, is that you?" A voice called out in Korean as Jisun stepped into the store. Jisun admittedly did not eat out often, but the staff all remembered her since the first time she came to the restaurant. Jisun was convinced it was because they saw the sliver of North Korean that still lived on within her from the moment she spoke.
"Did you bring a friend?" Yoonseok, the owner of the voice, continued, still in Korean. He was a cashier and a server, and he was a South Korean immigrant. His face was bright and youthful, and the cheerfulness of his personality always leaked into his demeanor. "Hold on, lemme get Byeoljji and Bokyung." As soon as Yoonseok called out their names, the two older Koreans bustled out of the kitchen.
"Jisunie," Byeoljji, the owner and founder of the restaurant, said warmly. She was around the age Jisun's mother would've been if she was still alive. Her eyes crinkled with smile lines, and despite her tiny frame, her demeanor was motherly and all-encompassing. "How are you? And oh -- who's your friend?"
"I'm doing well," Jisun responded. Her tone wasn't particularly warm with any obvious emotion, but Byeoljji smiled all the same. "This is Anastasia," Jisun turned to the other girl, finally switching to English.
"Oh! Hello, Ana-stay-ja," Byeoljji said in heavily broken English. "My name is Byeoljji." She turned back to Jisun. "Tell her I said that it's lovely to meet Jisunie's friend! Take a seat, you two. I'll send Yoonseok to serve you soon." And with a final bow to Anastasia, Byeoljji hobbled back to the kitchen. Bokyung, her husband, gave Jisun a nod before following his wife back. He was a man of few words, but he was genuine.
Jisun relayed the words to Anastasia. "If you have any questions about what to order, just ask," she added.