The Legend
I returned the rental car and checked into a hotel in downtown Fukuoka. After washing off the grimy camping vibes, I stepped out of the hotel lobby in light clothes. Now it was time for some proper city sightseeing.
"Alright, let's go!"
The moment we left the hotel, Rika took the lead, with Im Nana right beside her. I naturally fell in step nearby.
Having a local really makes this reassuring.
Rika said she was a Fukuoka native. She'd surely guide us to hidden gems or the latest hot spots we wouldn't know about. With zero doubts, I trailed happily behind the two of them.
The streets buzzed with energy. I checked out people's fashion as they passed and tried reading the Japanese signs on storefronts, strolling leisurely.
"Areum, look at that! That building's got such a weird shape."
"Yeah, it does. Japan seems to have a lot of unique architecture."
Chatting idly with Nana like that, thirty minutes flew by before I knew it. But...
...Something feels off?
We were supposed to be sightseeing downtown, but it felt like we were just looping around the station area. Wasn't that the convenience store I saw earlier? Our little parade didn't seem headed anywhere specific—it was more like wandering wherever our feet took us. My legs were starting to ache...
Where the hell were we even going? Were we lost?
"Hey, Rika? Where are we headed right now?"
Rika stopped dead in her tracks. She tilted her head and asked back,
"Huh...? I was just following Nana-chan?"
"...?"
I glanced at Im Nana. And there was that signature blank... no, dazed look on her face.
"Huh? I was following Areum?"
"...??"
What the hell? Why were they following me?
"I... was following Rika...?"
We all stared at each other with the same dumbfounded expressions. Right there in the middle of the street, a three-way standoff unfolded. We'd each trusted the others and followed blindly in a miraculous infinite loop. For thirty minutes, with no destination in mind, we'd been swept along unconsciously in whatever direction one of us twitched!
An awkward silence hung over us. Passersby shot us weird looks as they went by. I could almost hear them thinking, 'Did they get in a fight? The vibe's so heavy.'
I rubbed my face dry and broke the ice first.
"...Weren't you supposed to show us around today, Rika?"
"Uh...?"
Rika's eyes darted around in panic.
"That's news to me..."
My gaze naturally shifted to Im Nana. She avoided my eyes, fidgeting her index fingers together.
"...Ahaha. I forgot to tell Rika first."
"......"
I knew it. There was a limit to winging it. She hadn't even asked for a guide and just dragged us out?
"Well then... Rika, what's Fukuoka famous for? Any spots you recommend?"
As a local, she had to know something, even without prior notice. But Rika propped her chin, looking troubled.
"Uh... motsunabe?"
"We ate that yesterday."
"Hmm... Dazaifu then? There's this huge shrine..."
"A shrine?"
Shrines weren't bad, of course. But I'd been hoping for lively city vibes today, not a sudden calm shrine visit. Plus, wasn't Dazaifu pretty far from here?
Nana looked disappointed too and tossed out a question.
"Rika-chan, you said you've never left Fukuoka—there's really nothing to see? Like a hot cafe or shopping spots?"
"...Hmm."
Rika pondered seriously, then muttered in a shrinking voice,
"...What is Fukuoka famous for again?"
"......"
Nana and I stared at her in disbelief. Seriously? You grew up here and don't know?
Rika pouted under our prickly stares.
"D-Don't look at me like that... I really don't know that well..."
I almost scolded her unconsciously but paused. Wait. Think about it. If someone asked me to show them around Seoul?
Seoul? Uh... Everland? Nah, we're adults—what, a theme park? Not a couple.
Namsan Tower? Nothing there except the cable car.
Myeongdong? Just crowds and overpriced stuff.
...Gyeongbokgung? Han River? All the textbook tourist traps. Friends from out of town actually dragged me to more spots—like pop-up stores or viral street cafes.
...Ah. Enlightenment. Locals don't know tourist spots. It's just everyday life, not a destination. Tourists who research obsessively often know more.
It wasn't Rika's fault.
"...Sorry, Rika. I get it now. Even Seoulites don't know Seoul well. We just stick to our routines."
"R-Right? It's not just me?"
Rika nodded in relief. Then, like she'd remembered something, she clapped her hands.
"Oh! There's this huge shopping mall—wanna go there? Bound to be something fun!"
"A mall? Sounds good."
"Yeah! I love that! Let's shop!"
Nana agreed enthusiastically. We followed Rika again. This time with a real destination, right?
Strolling the streets, soaking in the sights. Japanese streets had a unique vibe different from Korea's. Far off, a massive building loomed.
"There it is!"
Rika pointed to a huge complex mall with striking red curves. I'd heard the name before—thought it was just a department store, but it was way bigger and flashier than expected. An artificial canal ran between buildings, with fountain shows going on.
"Whoa... it's massive."
Inside, brands and restaurants crammed every corner. But now that we were here... nothing we really needed to buy.
"Uh... what now?"
We stood blankly, staring at the directory. That's when Rika started walking again. Like she was possessed, no hesitation.
Where's she headed? A food spot maybe?
Curious, I followed. She rode the escalator up and stopped at...
A blast of electronic noise and flashing lights poured out. A massive game center.
"......"
Rika stood at the entrance, peering inside blankly. Then she snapped out of it, jumping in surprise and turning back.
"H-Huh! S-Sorry! Old habit kicked in...!"
Her face flushed red, flustered. Oh, right. She was a game streamer. A hardcore one. Arcades were like catnip to her—just like a sparrow can't pass a mill.
"D-Do you guys like games...?"
"Eh, not hate 'em. Played some back in the day."
"Me too! It's been ages since an arcade!"
Nana's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"For real? Awesome! Let's go in!"
The inside felt worlds apart from Korean arcades. The scale was insane—one floor half-filled with machines. Entrance had endless claw machines, then zones for rhythm games, fighters, motion sims.
"Whoa... Japanese arcades are on another level."
"Right? Just the claw machines have crazy variety."
Rika explained excitedly. We headed to the game lineup first. Watched rhythm game pros with flashy fingers, laughed at kart racers. Then Nana stopped.
Her eyes locked on a corner machine. The classic whack-a-mole—moles popping from holes, hammer to smash 'em.
Nana grinned and rolled up her sleeves.
"Areum, I'm insanely good at this."
"Whack-a-mole?"
"Yup!"
"How good can you even get at whack-a-mole..."
"Lemme show you!"
Trusting her athleticism? Fine if she has fun, but whack-a-mole's more than reflexes...
"Show me then. Impress me."
"You got it! Watch close!"
Nana fed in coins, grabbed the mallet. She rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck—total pro vibe.
It's just whack-a-mole—why so intense?
First mole peeked out.
...Or tried to.
Whack!
"...?"
Lightning fast. Mallet crushed it the instant it showed. No squeak, straight back in the hole.
...What was that?
Luck? Random swing? Scoreboard:
Spot on. Then:
Whack! Whack! Whack!
Moles popped—no survivors. Nana's arm blurred with afterimages. Her eyes weren't fixed; like a libero scanning the whole volleyball court, she covered the entire machine, catching every twitch.
Score skyrocketed. Jaw on the floor. I'd never even seen a mole's full face—just crown or eyes peeking, whack.
This wasn't whack-a-mole. It was mole genocide.
"Whoa... Nana-chan, that's insane..."
Crowd noise from the smacks drew onlookers. Rika muttered, entranced.
Mid-game, difficulty spiked. Two or three moles at once now. Machine had two mallets for two-player—late game was solo hell.
She'll tire soon, right?
Nope. My mistake. Everyone's.
"(It's faster...!)"
"(Transcending limits!)"
Onlookers buzzed. Then...
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
Mallet frenzy. Arm invisible—like possessed drummer vids online. No mistakes. Every popper got pulverized. Machine looked abused. Score past 900.
Final fever: All holes erupting moles. Nana's eyes flashed.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
Last strike, game over. Score froze:
Fanfare blared, [PERFECT!] flashed.
Nana turned, beaming sweat-free.
"Whoa! Got 'em all!"
"......"
Rika and I clapped, speechless. What couldn't this woman do? Athletic, sure—but this level?
Rika, did you film that? Send it later! Gotta archive this!
Then—a whistle. Staff rushed over. Five of them, with fireworks and megaphones.
"Omedetou gozaimasu!!! (Congratulations!!!)"
Bang! Bang! Fireworks popped, staff surrounded Nana clapping. Customers gathered, confused.
"Eh? W-What's going on?"
Nana blinked, bewildered. Manager grabbed the megaphone:
"Congratulations!! You're the first customer to perfect this demonic whack-a-mole since we opened!!"
"...Huh?"
Nana blinked blankly. Staffer beamed:
"This machine's nationwide toughest—only three perfects ever, all two-player! Solo perfect? Incredible!"
Ah... not your average machine. No wonder they were speedy. And she cleared it first-try perfect?
Nana, what are you...?
"Special prizes from our whack-a-mole events! Please accept them!"
Staff hauled out prizes: life-sized bear plush, limited figures, snack sets. Nana buried under the pile, face barely visible.
"Uh... uh... Arigato...?"
Figures in hands, snacks around neck—like a peddler or triumphant general. Hilarious.
"Pfft... heh... HAHAHAHA!"
I burst out laughing, clutching my stomach.
"Areum! Don't laugh—help me!"
Nana wailed pouty. Even that cracked me up more.
We skipped shopping entirely, sweating to haul her prizes. Watching Nana trudge with the giant plush, I thought,
Im Nana is a legend. For real.
Her talent for turning even normal sightseeing extraordinary? Pure awe. How to get that bear home to Korea... future problem.