Saturday morning LEET prep was better than Thursday's disaster.
Professor Jung had us work on speed drills—thirty questions, fifteen minutes, go. I managed to finish all thirty this time, getting twenty-six correct.
Progress.
"Much better, Ms. Han," Professor Jung said during review. "You're learning to trust your first instinct. Keep that momentum."
After class, Su-Jin, Tae-Min, and I confirmed our Sunday practice test plans, then I headed home to get ready for whatever Bok-Jin had planned.
I had no idea what to wear for a mystery activity. Something comfortable but not sloppy. I settled on jeans, a soft sweater, and sneakers that wouldn't kill my feet.
At 1:55, my phone buzzed.
Bok-Jin: I'm downstairs. Fair warning: this might be terrible.
Me: Now I'm intrigued.
I grabbed my jacket and headed down to find him waiting with an expression that was equal parts excitement and nervousness.
"Okay, so full disclosure," he said as I approached. "I planned something that sounded fun in my head but might actually be ridiculous."
"You're selling this very well."
"I'm managing expectations."
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
We took the subway to Hongdae, the neighborhood known for its arts scene, street performances, and general chaotic energy. The streets were packed with weekend crowds—tourists, students, street vendors, musicians.
Bok-Jin led me through the maze of side streets until we stopped in front of a building with a bright neon sign: "Game Zone - Arcade & VR Experience."
"An arcade?" I asked.
"Not just an arcade. A really good arcade." He looked almost defensive. "I know it's not fancy or romantic or whatever, but I thought—I don't know. We've done serious conversations and cherry blossoms. Maybe we could just be ridiculous for a few hours?"
I smiled. "This is perfect."
"Really?"
"Really. I haven't been to an arcade in years. Let's be ridiculous."
His face lit up, and we went inside.
The arcade was massive—three floors of games ranging from classic arcade machines to VR stations to those ridiculous prize games that were definitely rigged. Music blasted from multiple directions, lights flashed, and the whole place smelled like popcorn and teenage nostalgia.
"Okay, game plan," Bok-Jin said, surveying the options. "We start with classic games, move to competition games, then finish with whatever looks most ridiculous."
"You've thought about this."
"I may have scouted the location last week."
"That's very thorough of you."
"I'm a business major. Planning is what I do."
We started with racing games, sitting side by side in motion-simulator seats, competing against each other and AI opponents. I was terrible at it—kept crashing into walls, taking corners too fast, finishing dead last every time.
Bok-Jin won every race and was gracious enough not to gloat too much.
"You're really bad at this," he observed after my fifth crash.
"I'm aware. My hand-eye coordination is a disaster."
"Want to try something else?"
"Please."
We moved to rhythm games—the kind with colored arrows you had to hit in time with music. This, apparently, was my secret talent.
"How are you good at this?" Bok-Jin asked, watching me nail a complicated sequence.
"I don't know. Maybe all those years of speed-reading legal cases trained me to process visual information quickly?"
"That's the nerdiest explanation I've ever heard."
"You're dating a nerd. This shouldn't be surprising."
The word slipped out before I could stop it. Dating. Were we dating?
Bok-Jin didn't comment on it, just smiled and said, "I'm very aware of the nerd situation. It's one of your best qualities."
We moved through the arcade, trying everything. Basketball shooting games (I was mediocre, he was suspiciously good). Fighting games (we were both terrible and just button-mashed randomly). Dance Dance Revolution (we were both disasters, but at least it was a shared disaster).
By the time we reached the second floor, I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt.
"Okay, what's next?" I asked, catching my breath.
Bok-Jin pointed to a VR station. "Zombie survival. Think you can handle it?"
"Is it scary?"
"Probably."
"Then absolutely not."
"Come on. I'll protect you from the digital zombies."
"How noble. I'll just hide behind you the entire time."
"That's a valid strategy."
We got set up with VR headsets and controllers. The game was a cooperative zombie shooter—we had to work together to survive waves of undead attackers.
I lasted approximately ninety seconds before screaming and trying to take off the headset.
"They're coming from everywhere!"
"Just shoot them!" Bok-Jin said, clearly trying not to laugh.
"I am shooting them! There are too many!"
"Use the grenades!"
"How do I use grenades?!"
We died spectacular deaths multiple times, eventually just dissolving into laughter as zombies overwhelmed us for the eighth attempt.
"We're terrible at this," I said, removing the headset.
"We really are. But at least we went down together."
"That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said about cooperative video game death."
We grabbed snacks from the arcade café—overpriced but acceptable—and found a corner booth to rest.
"This was a good idea," I said, stealing one of his fries. "I needed this."
"Needed to be terrible at video games?"
"Needed to just... play. Have fun. Not think about LEET or papers or any of it."
"Yeah. Me too." He was quiet for a moment, then: "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Earlier, when you said 'dating'—did you mean it? Or was it just a slip?"
My heart jumped. "I... I don't know. What are we doing? What is this?"
"I think we're dating," he said carefully. "Or at least building toward it. But I don't want to assume. I want to know what you think."
I took a breath, trying to articulate something I'd been feeling but hadn't named.
"I think I want to be dating you. Officially. Not just 'taking it slow' or 'figuring things out.' Just... together."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. If you want that too."
"I really do." He smiled, soft and genuine. "So are we doing this? Are we officially together?"
"I think we are."
"Good. That's really good."
We sat there grinning at each other like idiots, and I felt something settle in my chest. Relief. Certainty. The sense that we'd finally stopped dancing around what we both wanted.
"So what now?" I asked.
"Now we go lose more money trying to win terrible stuffed animals from rigged claw machines."
"That sounds perfect."
We spent another hour on the third floor, attempting and failing to win prizes from various skill games. Bok-Jin finally managed to win a small plush cat from a claw machine after about twelve attempts.
"Here," he said, presenting it with exaggerated formality. "A token of my affection and terrible hand-eye coordination."
"It's hideous. I love it."
"It cost me probably five times what it's worth."
"That makes it even better."
I tucked the cat into my bag, and we left the arcade as the sun was starting to set.
Hongdae at night was even more alive—street performers on every corner, artists selling their work, crowds spilling out of restaurants and cafés. We walked slowly, not ready for the day to end.
"Want to grab dinner?" Bok-Jin asked. "There's a good Mexican place near here."
"Mexican food in Korea. Bold choice."
"It's surprisingly decent. And I'm hungry enough to eat anything."
The restaurant was small and casual, decorated with colorful papel picado and playing cheerful music. We ordered tacos and nachos and split a pitcher of sangria that was probably more juice than wine but tasted good anyway.
"This is nice," I said. "Just being normal people doing normal things."
"As opposed to?"
"Stressed law student and overwhelmed business student."
"Fair distinction." He took a bite of his taco. "Can I tell you something?"
"You keep asking that like I'm going to say no."
"Valid point." He set down his food. "I'm really happy right now. Like, genuinely happy. Not just content or okay, but actually happy. And it's because of you."
"Bok-Jin—"
"I'm not done. You make me feel like I can be myself. Not the chaebol heir or the dutiful son or whatever role I'm supposed to play. Just... me. The guy who likes arcade games and bad Mexican food and arguing with you about whether spring or fall is better."
"Spring is objectively better."
"See? This. This is what I mean." He reached across the table and took my hand. "I love this. I love us."
My heart was doing that stupid fluttering thing again. "I love us too."
"Good. Because I'm kind of all in here."
"Me too. Which is terrifying, but also kind of great."
"Terrifying and great. That's a good summary of relationships."
We finished dinner and walked back to the subway, hands linked, comfortable silence between us. On the train, less crowded now, we sat pressed close together, his arm around my shoulders, my head leaning against him.
It felt easy. Natural. Like we'd been doing this for years instead of just officially getting together today.
At my building, we stopped in our usual spot.
"So," he said, "we're officially dating now."
"Officially."
"That means I can call you my girlfriend."
"I guess it does."
"And you can call me your boyfriend."
"If I want to."
"Do you want to?"
"Maybe. Possibly. We'll see."
He laughed and pulled me closer. "I'm going to kiss you now. If that's okay."
"About time."
"I'm nothing if not patient."
And then he kissed me, soft and sure and perfect. Not desperate or urgent, just sweet and right and everything I'd been wanting since that first kiss on the rooftop months ago.
When we pulled apart, I was breathless and smiling.
"Okay?" he asked.
"Very okay. Great, even."
"Good. Because I plan to do that a lot more now."
"I support this plan."
We kissed again, and I felt like I was floating. Like everything that had been broken between us had been carefully rebuilt into something stronger.
"I should let you go," he said reluctantly. "It's late."
"Probably."
"But I don't want to."
"Me neither."
"Tomorrow?" he suggested. "Want to study together? Actually study, not make out. Mostly study."
"Mostly?"
"I'm being realistic about my self-control."
"Fair. Yeah, tomorrow. I have LEET practice test until 4, but after that I'm free."
"I'll come to the library at 4. We can grab dinner after."
"Okay."
We kissed one more time, and then I forced myself to go inside before I did something ridiculous like suggest he come up to the apartment.
When I got upstairs, both roommates were waiting like predators.
"You're glowing," Min-Ji announced.
"I am not."
"You absolutely are. What happened?"
I pulled the hideous plush cat from my bag. "We went to an arcade. He won me this from a claw machine after approximately seventeen attempts. And we're officially dating now. Like, actually officially."
Both of them squealed.
"Finally!" Yoo-Na said. "I thought you two were going to dance around it forever."
"We've only been rebuilding for like two weeks."
"It felt longer. Your sexual tension was exhausting to witness."
"We don't have sexual tension."
"You absolutely do. But now you can do something about it finalllyyy!"
I went to my room with their laughter following me, set the plush cat on my desk next to the photo strip from the cherry blossom festival, and flopped onto my bed with a stupid smile I couldn't suppress.
I had a boyfriend. Choi Bok-Jin was my boyfriend. We were officially together.
It was terrifying and great and exactly what I wanted.
And for once, I was letting myself have something good without overthinking it to death.
I would call that…progress.