Jeonghan ambled next to Haeun, keeping a close eye to where she was stepping. He hadn’t heard from her ever since he had left high school, and he was quite surprised to receive a call from her out of the blue. He remembered clearly that day he heard her voice again. It was calmer than usual, not exactly what he remembered when they hung around day in and day out at school. Being a celebrity came with a major downside, and it was losing contact with your closest friends. He regretted not having called Haeun, whom he considered as his best friend, in a long time. And he was thankful she had reached out to him. It was only when he arrived at her house did he find out just what had happened to her.

Four months prior, Haeun had an accident that rendered her completely blind. No matter the amount of medical procedures she had gone through, there was no hope in getting her eyesight back. He was speechless at the sight of her staring off into a void, and he couldn’t even look at her without bursting into tears.

She was always the one who had big plans in life. She jumped from one idea to another in an hour and worked on different hobbies in just a few weeks. She always told him stories of the adventures she would have, the places she would love to travel to once she had the money. She longed to see places outside of Korea, to meet new people and eat exotic food. And Jeonghan always listened to her intently, wishing he could be just as outgoing as she was. He recalled how her last dream before graduating was becoming a novelist. Her plans seemed to have drowned along with the light in her eyes.

It came to him as a surprise when she made a request for him on the day he visited.

“Can we go to the museum? Together?” she asked him, staring at the wall behind him. After a deep breath, he agreed and set a date to when he had some time off, and they met again a few weeks later.

The museum she loved to go to wasn’t too far from her house, but Jeonghan still watched over her like a hawk. She glided her Hoover cane against the pavement, making people jump out of her way with pitying looks. Jeonghan stared at them in disgust, wondering what gave them the right to look at her that way just because she couldn’t see. He steered her in different directions until they made it to the ticket booth at the entrance of the museum, and she took out her purse to pay for the both of them. But as she took the paper money out, some coins fell onto the floor. She seemed a little distressed and apologetic, but Jeonghan quickly picked everything up and helped her to give the exact amount among her diverse bank notes.

Jeonghan hadn’t visited a museum in years. He didn’t even think this was of any interest to her, at least, not anymore. She folded her cane and held it in her hand as she walked through the crowd, apologizing as she bumped into people.

“I can do this.” She said. “Follow me.”

He picked up on her familiar tone, one of determination and capability. The corner of his mouth pulled into a small smile as he watched her back from a few feet away. But it was too late to warn her as she collided with a wall. He winced at the contact, and everyone around them stared. She took a step back, bowed to it and apologized. She placed her hand on it and slowly slid it to the side, looking for the arch where she could continue her way.

Despite her words, Jeonghan couldn’t help but reach to her a few times to bring her in the right direction. But she would always say the same thing, “I can do this. Don’t worry.”

Sure enough, she made her way to the Monet exhibit. Jeonghan looked around, and suddenly recalled how in grade 4 she had a passion for paintings. He sighed at the sight of them, wondering just what all of this meant for her now that she couldn’t see. Just what was she trying to accomplish by coming here without being able to see any other colour but black.

Haeun walked a few steps like a crab, and feeling as if she were in the middle of the room, she bent her back and stretched out her arms as if looking for something. Her hand suddenly hit a piece of wood, and she began to feel it only to realize it was the upholstered bench she had been looking for.

“See! I told you I can do it.” She said as she plopped down proudly. She placed the folded cane next to her, and scooted over for him to sit next to her. However, Jeonghan moved to the other side of the bench, sitting diagonally to her to look at the wall on the opposite side to where she was staring. But she didn’t know about that, and assumed he sat down right next to her and was looking at the same thing that she was.

“Don’t you just love the vibrant colours?” she asked. Jeonghan slightly raised his eyebrow at her words.

“Mm.” he simply said.

She turned her head to where she thought Jeonghan was, “Yah, a bit more enthusiasm, please.” She said. “Haven’t you ever heard of Monet?”

“Yes.” He sighed a little. “Haeun-ah, why are we here exactly-”

“Shhh.” She put her finger to her lips. “Look at the painting. Can’t you hear it? The sound of the wind in between the leaves, the cicadas in the distance, the birds singing their final song before going to sleep.”

Had she gone mad? She was talking about a painting. A painting.

“Haeun-ah I don’t think-”

“The warmth of dusk on your skin, the summer breeze in the air right before it turns cold for the night. If you stare long at it, you can almost see the movement of the flowers in sync with the evening wind. Isn’t Monet amazing?” she asked. Jeonghan nodded, before realizing his action meant nothing to her and he responded hesitantly with a sound of acknowledgment.

A sigh came from her before she continued. “I never told you this, but when I felt sad I always came to the museum when I was younger. They have free admission here until the age of 12.” She crossed one leg over the other, her elbow propping up on it for her hand to support her chin. She stared intently ahead of her, smiling nostalgically. “Of course I couldn’t come here frequently after I had to pay, but still. Maybe… Once every two months? Yeah, I think it was something like that.”

Jeonghan felt like he was discovering an entirely new person. He kept his eyes straight ahead of him, not once turning around to look at her. He was still left wondering why she had brought him there.

“Monet loved flowers.” She said. “He loved everything, mostly just how simply beautiful they were no matter what type. From the dandelion to the water lily. He even cut down trees around his home so that his flowers could have more light…” Her smile grew larger. “God how I wish I could have loved something as much as he did.”

She looked down at her hands suddenly, picking at the dead skin near her nails. “I know what you’re thinking. What’s a blind girl doing in a museum where all you do is stare at things for a few hours?” Jeonghan cleared his throat, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. For someone who couldn’t see anymore, Haeun read the situation perfectly. Then again, she wasn’t blind in her judgement. “The answer is simple: I see things in a whole different way.”

Okay, now she really had lost it. The boy didn’t know if she was trying to convince herself she wasn’t blind out of denial, or she had some kind of third eye he had never heard about.

“You can imagine what the first weeks were like for me, when I suddenly became blind.” Her tone had suddenly turned sombre. “I wondered if I would remember what my parents look like, what my house looks like, you even crossed my mind.” Jeonghan glanced to the side, and he noticed she had her eyes closed with her hands folded over her lap, breathing in and out slowly.

“I won’t ever get to see what my husband will look like, or my newlywed home. I will hold my child and all I will be able to see is a blank face inside my mind. I won’t see it grow up, nor graduate, nor will I see my grandchildren. I won’t see the city change with new apartment buildings or new parks. If you tell me about the iridescence of the sky at dusk, I’ll simply smile while looking up at nothing.”

He had never realized those specific details of life until she pointed them out. To him, they were all mundane things he didn’t need to pay attention to. But to Haeun, it meant the world to her. He wondered just how much she longed to see something as simple as writing on paper, but the way she reminisced about life gave him his answer instantly. He felt his tears stinging at his eyes, and he blinked rapidly in hopes of them not spilling over. He scrunched up his nose, hoping he wouldn’t start to sniffle.

“And you know what? I’ve come to terms with all of this.” She said. “I may not be able to see, but I can still hear, smell, touch, taste… I mean seeing is quite nice but- I guess you just have to be in my position to understand.”

“Isn’t it like closing your eyes?” Jeonghan asked.

Haeun shook her head. “You close your eyes with the knowledge that you’ll open them and be able to see again. I close my eyes hoping it’s all just a bad dream. Your other senses don’t develop in the blink of an eye.” She laughed sheepishly at her choice of words. “You also notice you make a lot of sight puns that make people uncomfortable.” Jeonghan scoffed with a small smile. Somehow, he could see his best friend again. “I have accepted that this is who I am, you know? Better now than later. I just… I just have to find a way around this.”

Silence fell around them as the last of the visitors left the exhibit to continue their tour. There was a white noise coming from the lights hanging above them, and Jeonghan closed his eyes for a moment, trying to see just what she had meant. Apart from the noisy lights, he picked up on her breathing as well, and was about to say something when she suddenly spoke up.

“Did you know that Monet was almost blind near the end of his life?” Haeun said, smiling bitter sweetly at the darkness she saw as she lifted her head back up. Jeonghan slightly turned his head towards her, his eyes opened and fixated on the canvas in front of him. “But he still continued to paint. How amazing is that?”

Jeonghan wasn’t able to read Haeun’s thoughts nor her facial expressions. The blank stare in her eyes terrified him, once full of life and ambition. Now they seemed like the depths of Marianas Trench… Unreachable. He wondered what kind of justice this was for a girl who led a simple life, to someone whose dreams and goals were unmatched. Her determination to accomplish anything exceeded that of any person he knew, and in a moment everything seemed to fall apart for her. It wasn’t fair, and he knew that she thought the same way. But for some reason, not once had she ever mentioned it. Not once did she complain about this chapter in her life.

“Do you think I could be as amazing as him?”

The idol turned towards her, his mouth agape with the anticipation of an answer. She was staring upwards, her irises not even moving in a different direction. She was simply staring at what was in front of her, and he felt his chest tighten as she still kept smiling.

“I think you can surpass him.” He said. “I… I am certain of it.”

She gave off a toothy grin, the corner of her eyes crinkling at his response. “Jeonghan-ah.”

“Hm?” he slowly turned around to look back at the painting on his side of the bench, tears welling up in his eyes again.

“Do you know why I love this painting?” she asked. He shook his head, though he knew she couldn’t see him. She stretched out her arm and pointed without much direction. “When you look at it, what do you see?” Jeonghan stayed silent as he stared in front of him, his lower lip slowly being bitten down on by his teeth.  His hands found their way to the hem of his sweater, fingers curling tightly around it.

“I’m not quite sure.” He said, his voice hoarse from having suppressed his tears for so long.

“Happiness.” She said. “I used to see happiness.”

And without warning, he cried silently as he closed his eyes. The entire time that they were sitting in the room, he had been facing the Monet painting, while she faced an exit door. He placed his hand over his mouth to stifle his cries, keeping his eyes forcefully shut as his shoulders shook from his muted sobs. He wondered if someone who could clearly see the painting could ever describe it the way she had. And he realized that day just how blind people actually are to the simplicity of beauty.

He wished more people could see through Haeun’s eyes.