Morning light spilled through the hospital's tall windows, painting soft gold across polished floors and the steady rhythm of footsteps. Haneul Medical Center pulsed awake — clipboards, stethoscopes, quiet greetings.
Akhiera stood just inside the lobby, her ID badge freshly pinned, her white coat crisp and unfamiliar. The rain from last night had cleared, but its scent still lingered in the cool air, mingling with the sterile tang of disinfectant. She inhaled slowly, steadying herself. First day. First impression. Don't overthink.
"Dr. Smith?"
She turned to see a woman approaching — petite, sharp-featured, and radiating confidence. Her scrubs were neatly pressed, her expression half-serious, half amused.
"Dr. Minji Park, anesthesiology," the woman said, offering her hand. "You're the new general surgeon from Australia, right?"
"That's me," Akhiera replied, shaking her hand.
"Good. Follow me before Chief Sooha starts another morning sermon. He likes punctual people."
They hurried down a hallway lined with glass panels revealing wards in quiet motion. Akhiera's heart pounded, not from nerves alone but from the sheer aliveness of it — the sound of nurses exchanging charts, the smell of coffee wafting from somewhere near the nurses' station, the low hum of machines.
Inside the surgical briefing room, voices overlapped — discussions about cases, weekend plans, laughter.
"Everyone," Minji announced, "this is Dr. Akhiera Smith, our new general surgeon. Be nice."
Heads turned, greetings rippled. Dr. Sooha Lee, tall and composed, nodded curtly from the end of the table. "Welcome aboard, Dr. Smith. We're happy to have you." His tone was professional, but his eyes were kind.
"Thank you, sir," she said softly, bowing slightly.
Akhiera slid into a seat beside Minji, her notebook trembling slightly in her hands. She caught glimpses of her new colleagues — focused, friendly, busy. Yet even among them, she felt like a quiet echo in a room full of music.
Then the door opened.
Hyunwoo stepped in, still in scrubs, a half-finished coffee in hand. The sight of him — casual, easygoing — made something in her chest loosen. He gave a polite nod toward the team, then his gaze found hers. Just for a second, surprise flickered, followed by a faint smile.
"Ah," Sooha said, glancing up. "Dr. Kang, you're late again."
Hyunwoo's grin was unapologetic. "Traffic was emotional this morning, sir."
The room chuckled, tension dissipating. Even Sooha's lips curved slightly.
Akhiera couldn't help smiling too. Emotional traffic? She scribbled the words absently in her notebook — her first private joke of Seoul.
The hours that followed moved in a blur of introductions, chart reviews, and patient rounds. Akhiera kept her focus sharp, every action deliberate, every note precise. She could feel her anxiety simmering beneath the surface — the old fear of not belonging, of standing out too much or too little.
But Minji's energy was magnetic. "You'll get used to it," she whispered during a break. "First week always feels like survival training."
And Nara Kim, the young nurse with a cheerful ponytail, brought her a cup of barley tea. "You look like you haven't blinked since morning," she teased. "Drink this before your brain melts."
Akhiera laughed — a real laugh, small but genuine. "Thank you, Nara."
By mid-afternoon, she was reviewing pre-op notes in the staff lounge when a familiar voice called from behind her.
"Still lost?"
She turned. Hyunwoo stood by the doorway, leaning lightly against the frame, that same calm smile she remembered from the night before.
"Not yet," she replied. "Though I did get turned around twice between the OR and radiology."
He chuckled. "That's impressive. You found the two most confusing hallways in the hospital."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
He stepped closer, setting down his coffee mug beside her stack of files. "How's your first day going?"
"Better than I expected," she admitted. "Everyone's been kind."
"They're good people. Minji especially — she acts tough but she'll defend you like family."
Akhiera tilted her head. "You sound like you've been here a while."
"Eight years," he said, then added with a soft laugh, "But I still forget which elevator goes to surgery some days."
There was a pause — comfortable, unforced. Outside the window, autumn leaves swirled over the courtyard. The city shimmered beyond the glass, its pulse faint but steady.
Akhiera asked, "Do you ever get used to it?"
"To what?"
"The pace. The noise. The… everything."
Hyunwoo considered the question. "Maybe not. But you start to find rhythm in the noise. You notice the moments in between." He gestured toward her cup of tea. "Like that. The small pauses that remind you you're human."
She smiled, her gaze softening. "You sound like someone who's practiced that."
"Maybe," he said, eyes crinkling. "Or maybe I've just been through enough chaos to know when to stop fighting the rhythm."
Something about the way he said it — quietly, almost wistful — stayed with her. Before she could ask more, Minji called from down the hall.
"Hyunwoo! Stop stealing my new friend!"
He laughed, raising his hands. "You're safe, Dr. Smith. I'll let you get back to saving lives."
As he left, Akhiera found herself smiling again. The warmth of it lingered long after he was gone.
That evening, when the hospital quieted and the sky turned lavender behind the windows, Akhiera sat on the rooftop terrace. The city stretched below — vast, humming, alive. She wrapped her coat tighter against the breeze and closed her eyes.
The anxiety that had followed her for months — that dull ache of starting over — began to loosen. For the first time, Seoul didn't feel like a stranger.
Her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number:
You left your umbrella in the lounge. I'll keep it hostage until you buy me coffee. — H.K.
She laughed softly to herself, typing back:
Deal. But only if you promise not to make fun of my sense of direction again.
No reply came right away, but she didn't mind.
The rooftop lights flickered on, casting warm halos across the tiles. Akhiera watched the glow spread, thinking of the small things that made life here already feel different — a nurse's kindness, Minji's jokes, Hyunwoo's calm voice in the rain.
It wasn't home yet. But maybe, she thought, it could be.