There is no such thing as a "next time" or "another chance" in life.

Baekguan

Ex-girlfriend(Hereinafter referred to as EX.) is Japanese. And she is living in the Kansai area. enlarge on, the Hikone City is where she is living. To get to Hikone City, arrive at Kansai International Airport, board a train from the airport, travel through Osaka, and make a transfer at Kyoto Station. The train from there to Hikone City takes approximately an hour. I have had the pleasure of visiting Hikone City on two occasions. The first time, I travelled by car with EX’s parents, and on the second occasion, I went alone by train.

From here on, this is the story of my first visit to Hikone City. Following a thoroughly enjoyable time in Korea with EX, we flew together to Kansai International Airport, where I had the pleasure of meeting her parents for the first time. —As is often the case with fathers of daughters— her father was rather reserved toward me, while her mother greeted me with a gentle smile, said “OOOです” as she introduced herself, and shook my hand.

We arrived in front of EX’s house after a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Kansai International Airport. While the scenery that passed by during those two and a half hours might have seemed ordinary to my EX and her parents, to me, as a Korean seeing it all for the first time, it was a series of fascinating sights: the rooftop car park at Kansai Airport, the surrounding landscapes near the airport, a Japanese service area we stopped at after about an hour and a half on the road, and the neighbourhoods near her home. and the neighbourhoods near her home. all of it was a continuous remember of fascinating sights.

When I got to my EX’s house, I got to see a Japanese-style apartment for the very first time. The layout of her home was not as complex as I had anticipated, which I found quite pleasant. —Generally, Japanese houses have separate bathrooms and showers, which I find very convenient.— I was reminded of my time in Japan when I saw a kotatsu (Japanese heated table) and TV channels other than NHK for the first time. Anyway, since our arrival was around 8 or 9 p.m., it was quite late, so after taking a shower, I went straight to bed.

On the second day, EX’s mother left early for work, EX and I took a leisurely walk around various parts of Hikone. I must say, I was quite pleased by the fact that there weren’t many people around. EX expressed that the location was not entirely aligned with her preferences, as it was rather rural for her taste. However, in contrast to the bustling cities of Osaka and Kyoto, the city maintained a tranquil atmosphere and boasted numerous hidden gems that were well worth exploring. I found myself quite taken with the place.

After exploring the town and returning home, her mother had already come back from work and welcomed us while playing a game similar to Tetris on her phone. She asked me, “Are you hungry?” and then prepared a meal for us. The food was delicious. During the meal, she suggested that we consider visiting some recommended spots in Shiga Prefecture the next day. She also mentioned that we would stop by my EX’s grandmother’s house, so we could enjoy a trip together, which I thought was a very kind suggestion.

From my previous research, I was aware that Shiga Prefecture is a place where it can be challenging to travel without a car. As a foreigner myself, I had always thought that the chance to see the landscapes of Shiga would probably only come once in a lifetime, if at all. With a slight smile, I conveyed to EX’s mother, “If we get to go, that would be wonderful.”

On the third day, we left the house around 9:30 a.m. and got into EX mother’s car to head to her grandmother’s house. The journey took approximately two hours. As we had not eaten that morning, we stopped at a conveyor-belt sushi restaurant along the way, ate our fill, and then continued on to her grandmother’s place.

About ten minutes before arriving at her grandmother’s house, we passed through a very narrow alley, then a single-lane unpaved road in front of some row houses, climbed a steep slope, and navigated another tight alley before reaching a two-lane road. From there, continuing in the same direction brought us to her grandmother’s home. Having had the opportunity to live in the countryside for a considerable time —and continuing to do so— this unusually winding route left a lasting impression on me and remains vivid in my memory.

The EX’s grandmother’s house, which we finally arrived at, was divided into two buildings: the main house and a separate annex. I was taken to the annex. The entrance of the annex was reminiscent of the atmosphere of the Edo period. The space was enlivened by a painting of a horse and a floral arrangement of vibrant flowers. At that moment, I began to gain an understanding of Japanese beauty and the kind of beauty the Japanese people had sought. Yet somehow, those flowers felt poignantly distant to me, making it difficult to simply admire them without a touch of melancholy.

As we entered the kitchen, EX’s grandmother was busy working there. Startled to see us, she exclaimed, “Why did you come all of a sudden without calling first?!” and warmly welcomed us. After introducing myself in Japanese, I extended my hand for a handshake. She hurriedly wiped her hands and took mine. When I first held her hand, I could feel the traces of time.―The medal of time had bestowed upon her hands a texture both firm and tender, and within that texture and the marks upon her skin, I could briefly sense the history of her life.

After showing some interest in me, EX’s grandmother smiled and handed an envelope to her granddaughter. She said, “Since you’re leaving for Malaysia soon and I might not be able to celebrate your birthday, I thought I’d prepare a birthday gift in advance.” The envelope, which was adorned with kanji characters, contained some money. When EX bowed her head slightly to express her thanks, both her mother and I gently urged her to say thank you. I ventured to suggest, “At least give her a hug!” but EX ignored us and simply thanked her grandmother. —I wondered why she acted that way, but now I believe EX regrets not hugging her back more than we do.

After exploring both inside and outside the house, I saw a 日本犬 (Japanese dog breed) for the very first time. The dog, having lived its whole life in the countryside, was initially wary of me, a stranger, but soon warmed up and joyfully played by jumping around with me. Although the weather was cold that day and the dog was shivering, it seemed excited that EX and I had come to see it, hopping around and panting happily.

After finishing the tour of the house, we made our way to the entrance to put on our shoes and prepare to return to Hikone. The grandmother kindly took out a decorative piece from the left side and asked me if I knew what it was, I said I didn’t know. She explained that it was a work called Kunan (苦難), meaning ‘hardship.’ There were exactly ninety-seven figures which she pointed out corresponds to ‘kyuju nana’ (the Japanese pronunciation of 97) symbolizing the many hardships one faces in life. —Yes, life is an unending succession of unforeseen hardships.

I got into EX’s mother’s car and waved back at her grandmother, who was waving from behind. EX’s mother said, “We’ll come again next time!” as we headed to our next destination. Startled, I exclaimed, “Oh, right! We should have taken a photo together!” But EX and her mother simply replied, “We can take a photo when you come to Japan next time,” and we moved on.

I must admit that I felt a certain sense of regret as I watched EX’s grandmother-in-law wave at the car’s retreating figure. At that moment, I felt a sudden urge to stop the car and suggest that we turn back and take a photo at her house. However, I found myself somewhat complacent, thinking, “We can certainly do it next time,” and so I chose to postpone it and move on to our next destination.

Our next stop was a dessert café. Despite the abundance of sweets available, I found myself reluctant to indulge due to a lingering sense of unease. I therefore mentioned to EX and her mother that I would not be having any. After that, we went to the Metasequoia-lined road. The trees appeared to stretch out in a long row, but since it was winter, their branches looked bare, and the biting cold made us decide to turn back to the car shortly after a brief walk. The winter weather was rather inclement, and it felt as though the weather was determined to keep me from enjoying any peace and quiet. However, I cannot shake off the lingering sense of unease — her, the photograph, her waving figure.

After enjoying my time in Hikone, I returned to Korea, and later visited Hikone once again. However, with EX’s mother working and both EX and I lacking driver’s licenses, we weren’t able to visit her grandmother’s house, so once again, we had to leave it for another time.

EX had returned to Malaysia as her university semester began, while I was living in a cramped goshiwon in Seoul, working part-time at a tea house and attending tea ceremonies. When I didn’t have tea ceremonies to attend, I often went back to my home to rest. It wasn’t just about saving living expenses home bed was incredibly cozy and comfortable to me. One day, after sleeping in late in that familiar bed, I woke up to see the clock pointing to 3 p.m. Having finally enjoyed a long, restful sleep, I felt so good that I hummed a tune as I pulled out some side dishes.

At approximately 3:30 p.m. on 15 May 2025, I was contacted by EX. As she didn’t call very often, I was naturally curious and somewhat apprehensive when I received the call. If I may say so, her tone sounded quite normal at first, so I didn’t notice anything unusual right away. I inquired, “Why are you calling?” She simply expressed a desire to call.

As we chatted, I sensed a hint of sadness in her voice. I inquired, “Could I ask what might be the reason for your seeming despondency today?” Is something wrong?” Trying to hold back her tears, she said, “My grandmother passed away today from a myocardial infarction.”I comforted her and told her to let herself cry freely after we hung up, not to bottle up her grief.―She thanked me and then ended the call.

After concluding the call, I sent a modest expression of sympathy to her bank account. At first, she refused to accept it, but I insisted she take it.―That day was just four days after her birthday.

During my undergraduate years, when I was deeply interested in subculture, I often read books by Hiroki Azuma. In one of his works, he wrote the following:

He compared his younger sister and his daughter, saying,

“My sister’s third grade in elementary school and third grade in middle school continue to exist as time passes, but my daughter’s third and middle school years exist only at that moment. The sea she saw in third grade and the sea she sees in fourth grade are different. Adults tend to think, ‘If you mess up this time, you can make it right next time; if you miss a trip in the first half of the year, you can go in the second half; if you break up with this person, you can meet someone else.’ But making a mistake this time and doing well next time are not the same. A trip in the first half of the year and a trip in the second half are not the same. That person and that other person are fundamentally different people.”— from <Loosely Philosophizing> korean ver.

As Azuma says, what we ‘fail’ to do this time and what we ‘do’ next time carry different meanings. In the end, what was missed at that moment is simply missed—it cannot be made up by what happens later. In other words, the absence of action in that moment exists as an inevitable reality that cannot be filled by another time. Yet, we foolishly fall into arrogance and complacency, believing we can somehow make up for ‘that moment,’ when in fact, we can do nothing about it.

Around 2:51 p.m. on May 16, 2025, EX asked me for my name in Chinese characters. To give her the correct spelling, I opened the Naver dictionary. After telling her all three characters of my name, we didn’t say anything for a while. I didn’t ask why she wanted to know; I already understood.

For the first time ever, I sent money to support a family member who was not Korean. I said a short prayer for her, then tried to remember what she looked like and her voice. Afterwards, I stood there, lost in thought for a moment.

There is no such thing as a “next time” or “another chance” in life. EX and I had forgotten this, but she made us realize it. Though I only saw her for about ten minutes in a rural village, I felt that I came to know her. I am genuinely grateful that she helped me break free from my complacency.

From Beakgwan.

 Although she is now my ex-girlfriend and I can no longer visit her grandmother’s grave, whenever I think of her grandmother, I say a Mass for her before Sunday Mass.

本当にありがとうございます, おばあさん.

永遠な安息とイエス様の慈悲がおばあさんにありますように祈りします.

アーメン.

The entrance to her house.