Koi Fish

A flash fiction

The woman entered the subway train at Dongjak Station. Although there were many empty seats, she hesitated to pick one. When she finally sat down, the train was already roaring its way out of the underground tunnel. The vermillion beams of the setting sun penetrated the train’s windows and wavered on her bare shoulders. For a moment, the woman’s skin resembled that of a koi fish, its scales red, white, and black. The silky black dress oozed like a liquid under its thin straps dangling on the woman’s shoulders.

She was a brunette. Most likely past thirty, but not yet forty. Min was not sure about his guess though. It was always hard for him to guess a white person’s age. Most often, Min thought white people looked older than their age. It was because of their eyes. They usually had eye sockets much deeper than East Asians. Min could see only one of the woman’s eyes. She was looking out of the window behind her, most of her body facing him but most of her face shying away from him.

Min noticed that her mascara was blue. The mascara was smudged. Had she been crying? Perhaps, but not so likely. Min wondered how an eye that had not been crying could look so sad. The smudged mascara made her eye retract deeper. He was suddenly reminded of a cobalt blue tarantula hiding in its burrow. She had eyelashes long and thick.

Min looked around. Others did not care to look at the Han River. People already living in Seoul did not care to look up. On his way back from work, Min was almost always the only one who looked up when the train crossed the Han River. Yet there she was, still looking at the water and reflection outside, a mixture of Prussian blue and copper. Where was she from, and where was she headed? The train was approaching Ichon Station, across the Han River from Dongjak Station.

The woman turned around. Their eyes met. He did not look away, and neither did she. Min realized that her deep-set eyes were not sad. They were eyes of longing, longing for somewhere Min could not tell. She smiled, stood up, and walked towards Min.

Min did not know that the train had already stopped at Ichon Station. To the right of Min’s seat, the doors were open. The woman got off. The train pulled out of the station.

Min pondered what the woman could have been thinking as the train went underground again. She did not look like a typical tourist, and Ichon was not somewhere frequented by foreign tourists. He found himself occupied with so many questions he wanted to ask her. Where was she from? Why did she get off at Ichon? And where did she want to go further from here?

Sinyongsan Station was getting close. A thought crossed his mind. She got off at Ichon Station because she had seen the Han River from the train on the bridge. She wanted to get out of the subway and take a look at the river at dusk from nearby.

Min got out of the train at Sinyongsan Station. He rushed to take a train back to Ichon Station. The sun would not have set yet. He made up his mind. If he could still find the woman in the evening glow at the riverside, he would say hi to her ask her many things, starting with her name. If she spoke a language he did not know, he would first have to use a translator app. Eventually, he would learn her language though. He would ask her where she was headed and suggest they go together, wherever it could be.

Getting out of the train at Ichon Station, Min felt confident he would find her. He headed down to the Han River. The woman in black dress was standing there, in the mixture of Prussian blue and copper. He could spot her from far away. Her bare shoulders were glowing from the sunset.

For a moment, Min thought he should ask her whether she would like to keep a few koi fish, their scales red, white, and black.