Paddling

It was a clean cutback.

Morae popped up on the cresting white foam in an instant, immediately turned her board, and zigzagged across the curve of the incoming swell.

The sequence of movements — dazzling, never once losing the wave's rhythm — drew cheers from several people watching along the beach.

The wave quality was excellent, thanks to the steady breeze blowing in from the distant eastern sea. Even from my perspective — years of watching surfers without ever trying it myself — the conditions looked absolutely perfect for a leisurely session.

The sky and the sea looked like a decalcomania: a pattern made by folding a piece of paper in half and unfolding it. Like the accidental marbling you get when blue and white pigments are pressed together under light pressure.

White clouds in the blue sky. White waves in the blue sea.

About ten people were waiting in the lineup to catch a wave, but the only surfer who had actually caught one and ridden it all the way to shore was Morae.

Her balance on the board was so perfect it was hard to believe she was floating on water, relying on nothing but a six-foot, seven-inch plank.

There was no sense of precariousness or danger. She looked more comfortable and free than someone riding a bicycle on land, and the wave seemed to carry her along like a carpet — a magic carpet from some faraway fairy tale.

"Wow… what must it feel like to ride like that?"

"Amazing. If I could just ride like that once, I'd have no regrets."

Even the people taking lessons about ten meters from where I sat stopped churning their arms and marveled at her surfing. Their admiration quickly turned into urging directed at their instructor.

"Instructor, when can we ride like that?"

Hani¹ hyung², his back to the sea as he faced his students, subtly turned his head, confirmed that the object of their "riding like that" was Morae, and let out a sigh. The scowl on his face was clearly visible even over his sunglasses.

"The surfer you're admiring right now has seven years of surfing experience, and her swimming experience — well, you can just assume she's been floating in the ocean since she learned to walk. Now what about all of you?"

"……"

They were beginners handling a board for the first time today, practicing paddling by lying face-down on styrofoam boards placed on the sand and churning their arms.

At his blunt, unfiltered words, their shoulders slumped. They wore the expressions of people standing at the foot of a mountain, looking up at the summit before they've even begun to climb.

April.

The weather was still too chilly for swimming, but as soon as the temperature recovered enough to get into the ocean in a wetsuit, beginners eager to learn and experienced surfers alike all flocked to the beach. The landscape here — and the kind of tourism it drew — had changed significantly over the last few years of the surfing boom.

Morae finished her surf, walked out of the sea with her board tucked under her arm, and skillfully unzipped her wetsuit and pulled her arms free even while alone. She sank down onto the spot next to me.

"Oh, man. It's no joke riding after such a long time. There isn't a single spot on me that doesn't ache."

I took the water bottle out of my bag and handed it to her.

This was her first surf in the East Sea this year. She'd mentioned taking a surfing trip to some island in Southeast Asia over the winter — while hyung and I, who had enlisted together, were finishing the final stretch of our service — but that was already about three months ago.

Even as she complained, her wet face was clearly flushed with excitement. It was the energy that radiates from someone doing exactly what they love. I could feel the cool, salty touch of the sea from her sitting beside me.

It was perhaps the same feeling I'd had when I first met Morae at this beach — arriving on Yeehan's bike while she was surfing — that same warmth and scent when she walked out of the sea and offered me a handshake with a smile.

Maybe that was why. Although her name was Morae, she always reminded me of the sea: full of moisture and vitality.

Not the dry, grating sand spread across school playgrounds or piled up at construction sites, but the sand that is part of the ocean — perpetually drenched by relentless waves, constantly changing its shape.

Whether she was an Alpha or not had nothing to do with it. It was the impression conveyed by the mere existence of Lim Morae — not the effect of pheromones, which are reproductive elements. Besides, it was nearly impossible for me, a Beta, to detect Alpha pheromones in the first place.

"How was it?"

"You ride as cleanly as someone who was out there yesterday."

"Do I ride better than Hani?"

I turned my head to look at hyung, demonstrating for his students by paddling on a styrofoam board. Then I answered in a low voice.

"Nuna³, you always rode better than hyung."

Morae glanced over toward hyung as well, then gave me a quick smile so no one else would notice.

"I did some special training while you two were away. It's nice to ride again after so long… but the waves are too tame. Ah, I wish I could ride some big waves!"

That had been Morae's refrain lately.

She had described many times the thrill of riding inside the hollow tube formed when a big wave curls and crashes — and the sense of mystery, as if being sucked for that brief moment into a natural dimension entirely separate from Earth.

Such waves were hard to come by in the East Sea. Even hyung, who had never surfed abroad, had only heard about them or seen them in videos; he had never actually ridden one.

As skilled surfers, they couldn't be satisfied with just the waves of this sea. No matter how long they stayed on their boards, a lingering thirst remained.

About seven years ago — back when this beach, now lined with over a dozen surf gear rental and lesson shops, was nothing but seafood restaurants and cafés catering to tourists — Morae was practically the first person to ever put a board on these waves.

After trying surfing in Hawaii on a family trip, following a guide's suggestion, she immediately bought a board and came home. Traveling to a Pacific island, or arranging for the large piece of equipment she'd bought there to be flown back — neither posed any real difficulty for her.

Morae's father was one of the wealthiest and most influential men in the area, owning five or six large fishing trawlers and several restaurants. He was someone who spared no expense for Morae — his only daughter among older brothers, a daughter born a female Alpha, his precious and somewhat troubled child.

Thanks to Morae, hyung naturally took up surfing and was instantly hooked. As soon as the ocean warmed enough for their wetsuits to handle, the two of them would race to this beach, a forty-minute ride away on their bikes. And just like now, I would sit on the shore watching them paddle out to the lineup and get pushed back to the sand again and again, never seeming to tire of it. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that my three years of high school passed exactly like that.

"Want me to teach you? Want to give it a try?"

A question I'd heard at least a thousand times over five years. My answer was always the same. I fiddled with the water bottle she'd handed back and shook my head.

"Aren't you bored?"

Same response.

Hyung and Morae asked periodically, but they never tried to actively persuade me or drag me into the ocean by force. This time too, Morae just laughed while lightly tapping my shoulder with her wet fist. But the laugh carried disappointment and worry — that I was still the same person even after finishing my service.

She got up to head back into the water. I brushed the sand off and stood to zip up the back of her wetsuit. That was my role whenever hyung or Morae was without the other.

"Alright, lift your hips! Keep your gaze far ahead! Engage those triceps!"

"Instructor, can we stop now? I want to get out in the ocean!"

"With your current arm strength, you wouldn't make it ten meters out there. Arch your back more. If you can't secure your vision, you're not just putting yourself in danger — you're putting other surfers at risk too!"

Morae let out a soft chuckle at hyung's rigid, instructor-like tone — barking corrections and re-emphasizing safety.

"Looks like he still hasn't shaken off that military stiffness."

I smiled back at her in agreement. Morae lightly patted my cheek with her cool, wet hand.

"But our Hyeoni⁴ is so fresh and dry. Who would ever think you're an old army man who just got discharged?"

Army man.

That was true. Just a few months before enlisting, being a soldier had felt like belonging to a completely different realm from being a high school student — like a fully realized adult who had completed the transition to the next stage. But now… I wasn't even sure what that nearly two-year stretch had actually left me with.

"Don't follow anyone who talks to you if you don't know them, and stay right here, okay?"

When I nodded, she flashed a bright smile, her face dotted with seawater, tucked her board under her arm, and headed back into the ocean.

She crossed the boundary between the sea and the sand without hesitation, paddling against the direction of the waves toward the lineup, her head held high without fear even on the unpredictable water — just as hyung was currently emphasizing to his students.

And then, miraculously, she stood up on that fragile white foam, which looked like it could vanish at any moment.

No matter how many times I watched, or how many years passed, it was always an astonishing sight.

TRANSLATOR'S NOTES

1. 1 Hani (한이) — An affectionate nickname formed by attaching the endearing suffix -i to the character's final syllable (Yeehan → Han → Hani). ↩ Back to text
2. 2 Hyung (형) — Most commonly means "older brother" in Korean, used by a younger male to address or refer to an older male. ↩ Back to text
3. 3 Nuna (누나) — Most commonly means "older sister" in Korean, used by a male to address or refer to an older female. ↩ Back to text
4. 4 Hyeoni (현이) — An affectionate nickname formed by attaching the endearing suffix -i to the character's final syllable (Yeehyeon → Hyeon → Hyeoni). ↩ Back to text