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“Jeong-won ah, what is your ideal type?”
The question asked by one Lee Ik-jun was as unexpected as it was sudden, tossed out into the open just as twenty-one-year-old Ahn Jeong-won took a shot of soju.
Together with their other two friends Kim Jun-wan and Yang Seok-hyung, the four boys were out at their favourite pub, celebrating the end of their examinations and surviving their first year of medical school. The fifth member — and only female — of their group, Chae Song-hwa, had elected to celebrate with her sunbae of a boyfriend instead.
So it was just them four downing shot after shot as they went through their examination questions like a sports commentator would a play by play. Some questions they agreed excitedly on, others they vehemently disagreed and dissolved into passionate arguments, and then there were the lamenting of errors that they should have known better to commit.
It wasn’t long before examination questions were forgotten and drinking games took centre stage as they got more drunk and drunk. Jeong-won had avoided losing for most of the night until this particularly boisterous round of 3-6-9.
“YA! We don’t ask the Buddha questions like that,” cried Jun-wan.
“Why not?” Ik-jun contended hotly. “Surely he must have had a girlfriend before?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Seok-hyung said quietly.
“But you didn’t go to the same high school right? Maybe he had one then and you didn’t know about it?”
Jeong-won finished downing his shot, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head, assenting with Seok-hyung’s quiet remark.
Ik-jun’s eyes widened in surprise. “ Really ? None at all? But why not?”
“I am not interested,” he said dismissively. “And you guys know I intend to enter the seminary and join the priesthood one day.”
“But what what if you don’t join the seminary?” Ik-jun persisted. “Hasn’t anyone caught your attention before and made you wonder?” Now that he had gotten them on the subject, Ik-jun had no intention of letting up. He had watched numerous girls approach Jeong-won throughout the year and it had been bewildering to him how Jeong-won showed no interest in any of them. Sure, he went out with everyone who asked but he never showed any further interest or gave any hope of a deeper relationship. But if Jeong-won thought that his behaviour would keep them at arm’s length, it had quite the opposite effect instead of making him a romantic figure...and a challenge.
“But I am, so what’s the point of thinking about it?” Jeong-won said.
“I can’t believe you are actually serious about that,” scoffed Jun-wan. “When would you actually do it now that you are in med school? After we graduate, we go straight into our internships, residencies and then board examinations. Why would you go through all that hard work just to quit and go be a priest?”
Ik-jun threw a warning glare at Jun-wan. He wasn’t going to have this conversation derailed into Reasons Why Jeong-won Would Still Totally Be A Priest In The Future, not when he had finally gotten them on this subject after a whole year.
He quickly turned to Jeong-won and picked up the soju bottle to top up everyone’s glasses. “Jeong-won ah, humour us, we are just curious about the type of girl you might like. Right, guys?” Everyone nodded and Ik-jun smiled triumphantly. Everyone was clearly curious but he was the only one with the guts to ask. “So tell us, what is your ideal type?”
Jeong-won toyed with his glass and glanced up. His three friends were all looking expectantly at him and he could see that they weren’t going to give up until he answered them. And even though to his mind the point was moot — because he would enter the seminary one day — he decided to play along. Hopefully this would satisfy them once and for all.
He put down his glass and gazed into the distance, a hazy outline of a woman beginning to form in his head. He couldn’t see her face nor any discernible feature but he thought maybe he knew the qualities he would like a hypothetical partner to have.
“Someone who is honest,” he finally answered. “Someone who dedicates herself to her work and always strives to improve.”
“In the medical field too?” asked Seok-hyung.
“Not necessarily. But I suppose someone in medicine would understand the long hours we have to keep and the stresses of the job.”
“What does she look like?” Jun-wan asked.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter to me.”
“A feature you would like then?” Ik-jun pressed.
Jeong-won thought for a moment and the hazy outline of the face came a little more into focus.
“Someone with bright, intelligent eyes.”
* * * * *
When he met Jang Gyeo-ul for the first time, the first thing that struck him was her eyes. Even from a distance, he could see that they were large and doe-like. And as he got closer, he saw that it contained intelligence and a spark that her glasses couldn’t quite hide.
“It’s nice to meet you. I am Ahn Jeong-won” he greeted, stretching out a hand. She took his hand and shook it.
“Hello, I am Jang Gyeo-ul,” she mumbled in a low, flat tone.
He smiled at the young resident but inside he was puzzled. It was odd, he thought, for eyes like that to be paired with such a monotonous tone of voice. However he didn’t have the time to ponder on it as he turned to meet his other new colleagues.
But the thought lingered.
And lingered and lingered and lingered until the day she completed her first solo surgery. As he sat across from her in the courtyard, he decided his instincts were right after all.
Her eyes were sparkling and her voice was bright and animated. Her entire being vibrated with the joy and verve of a job well done. This close, he could also see the deep brown of her irises and the little golden flecks that danced about merrily as she asked him about her performance.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Not that he wanted to. Not when she looked so happy.
Even when she took her leave of him, he found that he couldn’t stop smiling and looking after her back as she fairly skipped her way to the door.
Had he ever been this close to her before to read what was in her eyes, he wondered?
Yes. Yes, he had.
Whenever they were in the operating theatre together. There, her eyes were laser focused — tracking his every movement, scrutinising each step of the procedure, absorbing his instructions, considering the multitude of possibilities that could occur, asking him questions that told him she had studied the procedure beforehand and in great detail. It was true that he preferred to work alone but with her eyes so intent on learning as much as she could from him, he was compelled, for the first time, to include her in every aspect of his work even during the times it wasn’t quite necessary.
Or how about whenever she accompanied him during the examination of a patient. During those times, he only had to turn to her with a glance for her to read in his eyes the answers that he sought — be it the details of a patient’s condition, why the boy was so familiar or whether she had already spoken to guardians to apprise them of a difficult situation. And maybe he would never admit this to anyone, but knowing that her eyes were steady on his cases always gave him additional confidence that the patient would pull through eventually.
And maybe it didn’t matter how close they were.
Because what about that time she had caught his attention from across the PICU as she explained Jae-won’s surgery to his dazed mother. Even from clear across the room, he could see that her eyes were patient and reassuring as she drew out diagrams to help the mother understand when words hadn’t succeeded before. He remembered the grin that had spread across his face when the mother had flung herself into an enthusiastic hug around her. It had been such a proud moment for him to see her attempt to do better being appreciated by a guardian. It also made him wonder if she didn’t often receive such gratitude that she was so surprised by it.
And then there was the one time he couldn’t quite meet her eyes.
He winced at the memory. Her eyes had been so nervous that he had immediately assumed something bad had happened. He wasn’t quite wrong there. Something bad would happen — when he lied to her and extinguished the hope that had been hiding amidst the nerves. And though she had remained standing stoically, her eyes had turned so mournful that it had haunted him for days.
But that was the past. He had replaced that look in her eyes with one of joy now. Surely, that counted for something.
He took a sip of his coffee and smiled.
He couldn’t wait for tomorrow when she joined him to move the patient out to the wards and saw for herself how well they would be recovering.
He wondered, how brightly would her eyes shine then?