Annyeongz One-shots

65. Soft World

The afternoon sun filtered through the canopy of cherry blossom trees in Seoul's bustling Hangang Park, casting a soft, pinkish glow over the winding paths and picnic blankets scattered across the grass. Jang Wonyoung, a vibrant 20-year-old university student majoring in visual arts, strolled arm-in-arm with her best friend, Kim Mina. Mina, with her messy bun and a camera slung around her neck like a badge of honor, was deep into her photography degree. Their latest assignment? Capture candid portraits of random strangers—five photos each, focusing on raw emotions and unposed moments. It sounded simple enough, but after an hour of wandering, they had only snapped a few lackluster shots of joggers and dog walkers.

"Ugh, this is harder than I thought," Mina grumbled, fiddling with her Canon EOS settings. "Everyone's either too busy or gives that awkward 'do I smile?' face. We need something real, something with heart."

Wonyoung nodded, her long, wavy hair swaying as she scanned the park. She wasn't the photographer—Mina was the one with the technical skills—but Wonyoung had always been the creative spark, the one who could spot a story in the mundane. "Let's head over to the fountain area. There are always families there. Maybe we'll find someone interesting."

As they approached the central fountain, where water danced in rhythmic arcs, their eyes landed on a quiet duo sitting on a wooden bench. A middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a gentle smile was peeling an orange, handing segments to a young man beside her. He was strikingly handsome—tall, with sharp features, tousled dark hair, and a jawline that could cut glass. Dressed in a simple white shirt and jeans, he stared intently at the ground, his hands fidgeting with a small fidget spinner. From a distance, they looked like a typical mother-son pair enjoying a peaceful outing.

"Oh, he's perfect," Mina whispered excitedly, zooming in subtly with her lens. "Look at that profile. And the mom seems so nurturing. This could be our golden shot—family bonds or something poetic like that."

Wonyoung grinned, her natural charisma kicking in. "Alright, I'm on approach duty. You handle the camera magic." She straightened her posture, smoothing down her pastel sundress, and walked over with Mina trailing behind.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Wonyoung said politely, her voice warm and inviting. The woman looked up, her face lighting up with a soft, welcoming expression. She had laugh lines around her eyes, and her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, giving her an air of quiet elegance.

"Yes, dear? Can I help you?" the woman replied, her tone as sweet as honey.

Wonyoung flashed her brightest smile. "Hi, I'm Wonyoung, and this is my friend Mina. We're photography students from Seoul University, and we're working on an assignment to take portraits of everyday people. Your son is so handsome—we were wondering if we could take a few photos of him? Just natural shots, nothing staged. It would really help us out."

The woman's eyes twinkled with amusement, but there was a hint of hesitation. She glanced at the young man, who hadn't looked up once, still absorbed in his spinner. "Oh, that's very kind of you to say. He's not my son, actually—he's my nephew, but I take care of him like one. His name is An Yujin. But... well, if you girls think you can manage him, I don't mind at all."

Mina tilted her head, curious. "Manage him? What do you mean?"

The woman—introducing herself as Mrs. Lee—lowered her voice slightly, though not in a whisper of shame, but one of gentle explanation. "Yujin has autism. He's 22, but he doesn't talk much. Mostly just short phrases when he's comfortable. He can tell you his name if you ask nicely, but getting him to look at the camera or pose? That's a challenge even for me. He's very particular about his routines and doesn't like surprises. But he's a sweetheart once he warms up."