Haerin was constantly begging me to take her to Gangwon-do. We went at the beginning of August with the intention of staying two or three days.

At COEX Mall the evening before our trip, I chose outfits for Haerin—something elegant yet bold, which suited her petite figure and smooth complexion. She stood there in the dressing room, wide-eyed, as I handed her a sleeveless white dress with intricate lace and a matching hat. "Try this one," I said. After some coaxing, she stepped out, her lips parted as if unsure how to respond to the girl in the mirror. "It's perfect," I said softly. I didn't mention how her delicate features shone even brighter under the soft ivory fabric. Instead, I handed her a second outfit—a chic linen jumpsuit in pale blue—and paid without letting her see the price tag.

On the train to Gangwon-do, Haerin stood out in the crowd. The car was full of women and girls heading to Sokcho and Gyeongpo, seated in lively rows. But unlike before, this time all eyes turned to Haerin as soon as we walked in. Her white dress, paired with pearl earrings and a subtle gold bracelet, seemed to glow in the summer sunlight streaming through the windows. Her hat sat delicately on her head, accentuating her slender neck.

She looked beautiful—more beautiful than any of them—and yet I could feel her hand tightening on my arm, her unease growing with every passing glance. Haerin was clearly unused to this kind of attention. She hid behind me, her free hand gripping the hem of her dress as though afraid it might vanish. The other women on the train were dressed in simple summer attire, but none had Haerin's radiance or the elegance of her ensemble.

"Minji," she whispered, tugging at my sleeve, "why are they staring?"

"Because you look like a goddess," I replied bluntly, hoping it might reassure her. Instead, her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, and she lowered her head, her hat shielding her face from view.

Despite her humble origins and her past as a struggling waitress, Haerin carried herself with an unintentional grace that only enhanced her beauty. Still, the self-doubt rooted in her background clung to her like a shadow. The more others admired her, the more she clung to me, as though seeking protection from the attention.

At the Blue Wave Lodge near Sokcho, our accommodation was modest but charming. I'd chosen it to keep Haerin comfortable, knowing she might feel overwhelmed at one of the luxury resorts nearby. Though the lodge wasn't extravagant, our suite had large windows overlooking the sea, and I made sure to prepay for the best room available. Haerin, ever observant, noticed my reluctance to discuss money.

"Minji, this room must have cost a lot," she said, glancing around hesitantly.

"Don't worry about it," I replied, waving her concern aside. "I wanted you to enjoy your time here."

Her wide eyes softened, and she gave me a small smile. "Thank you."

The next morning at Gyeongpo Beach, Haerin appeared in a pale blue jumpsuit and wide-brimmed sunhat, both of which I had bought for her. As we walked along the shore, she kept pulling at her sleeves and looking around nervously.

"Do I look all right, Minji?" she asked.

I studied her carefully for a moment. "You look stunning," I said honestly. Her wide, cat-like eyes flickered with a mix of pride and uncertainty.

Still, as much as she tried to carry herself with confidence, I could see her old insecurities creeping in. She glanced at the other women on the beach—some in high-end swimsuits, others lounging in airy summer dresses—and bit her lip. I watched as she fiddled with the strap of her bag and clung to my arm, her steps hesitant.

"They're staring again," she muttered, voice barely audible.

"Let them stare," I said simply. "They're just jealous."

Haerin gave a small, shaky laugh. "You're exaggerating."

I wasn't. Her beauty, enhanced by the fine clothes and accessories I'd chosen, was undeniable. But she couldn't yet see what I saw—that she had always been beautiful, even before the elegant outfits. These things only polished what was already there.

Later, as she splashed in the shallow waves, her laughter rang out across the beach. She seemed, for a moment, to forget her fears. Watching her play like a carefree child, I realized just how much I wanted her to feel this happiness every day—not just in fleeting moments like this.

*****

I suppose that everyone experiences something like this in her youth, but for me, it was the first time. That evening, I thought of a line from a Korean drama I'd seen long ago about the fleeting beauty of youth. Somehow, I was reminded of it as Haerin and I, rocked by the boat, gazed from the offing and through the veil of evening haze toward the flickering lights on the shore. Moved to a tearful ecstasy, I wanted to drift away with Haerin to some uncharted, faraway world.

Experience this sensation was enough by itself to make our short stay in Gangwon-do worthwhile. To tell the truth, our three days in Sokcho allowed me one other important discovery. Though I'd been living with Haerin, I'd never had a chance to fully observe her figure—the shape of her body, to put it bluntly—but on this trip, I was able to.

When she appeared on the beach at Gyeongpo, wearing the dark green cap and sleek one-piece swimsuit we'd bought at COEX Mall the evening before, I couldn't help but marvel at her beauty. Haerin had a soft, feminine figure that was strikingly delicate and elegant, like that of a high-end fashion model. Her slim waist curved naturally into gentle, womanly hips, and her long, slender legs were perfectly straight. Her chest was modest but beautifully proportioned, and her arms, though slender, moved with the grace of a cat.

My heart cried out, "Haerin, Haerin, my goddess! What a fine, elegant figure you have. Your delicate shoulders, your graceful movements!" Her entire presence seemed like that of a cat in human form—soft, supple, and quietly confident. She had none of the sporty or athletic look one might associate with an outdoorsy girl, but rather, her body had a refined flexibility, a natural elegance that felt almost unreal. Her pale skin, untouched by the sun thanks to her preference for staying indoors, seemed to glow against the dark fabric of her swimsuit.

I suppose that no one likes to advertise the details of another woman's body. I don't enjoy boasting about Haerin, and relating these details to so many people. But if I avoid the subject, it'll be hard to tell my story properly, and the point of making this record will be lost. I must note here, then, what kind of figure Haerin cut as she stood on the beach at Gyeongpo in August of her eighteenth year.

Actually, I have a fairly well-proportioned and attractive figure by Asian standards. I'm 5 cm taller than Haerin and have noticeably large hands compared to hers. Both of us possess the small, petite faces that Korean women often dream of having. However, my facial features and body lines would likely be considered athletic, healthy, and slightly androgynous by feminine standards. I've often been complimented by women around me for looking handsome, especially whenever they see me without makeup.

Haerin, on the other hand, is different. I'm in awe of her and utterly captivated because I think she embodies femininity itself, from her personality to her appearance.

Her face, framed by soft strands of jet-black hair, carried a subtle, almost mysterious allure. She rarely expressed emotion on her face, which added to her enigmatic charm. Much like a cat, she observed the world quietly, her large, almond-shaped eyes hinting at thoughts she never voiced.

Haerin was not particularly fond of sports or physical activities. She tried splashing around in the shallow waves for a few hours but quickly grew bored and tugged at my arm. "Minji, let's go back to the hotel. It's too tiring," she said softly, her face expressionless but with a slight pout that somehow made her request irresistible.

I laughed and relented, helping her gather her things as we walked back along the shore. Haerin never liked exerting herself, and her delicate figure and calm demeanor made it clear that she was more suited to quiet, refined activities than running around or getting sweaty.

Having played all day, she'd come home clutching her wet swimsuit, cry "I'm starving!" and fling herself exhausted into a chair. Bored with cooking dinner every night, we sometimes stopped at a trendy bistro on the way home from the river, and gorged ourselves as though we were in an eating contest.

I could go on indefinitely about my happy memories of that summer, so I'll stop here. But there's just one more development that can't be omitted.

Around that time, I got into the habit of helping Haerin rinse off after swimming. The practice began when Haerin came home too sleepy to bother with taking a proper shower.

"Haerin," I said, "if you go to bed like that, you'll feel sticky all night. Get in the shower and I'll rinse your back."

She did as I said and let me wash her. Gradually this became a habit. The sponge baths continued into the cool fall weather, until finally, I set up a proper shower area in the spare room of our apartment. There I helped Haerin with her baths all through the winter.