The God's Instrument

The Things We Cannot Choose

7:00 PM — Los Angeles, California

The clinking of cutlery against plates filled the dining room as Ariya pushed a piece of broccoli around her plate.

She had been waiting for the right moment to speak, but the longer she waited, the harder it became.

Her mother sat across from her, enjoying her dinner..

Mum, I want to study in South Korea.

Simple enough.

So why did it feel like she was about to announce a crime?

“Mum?”

Her mother looked up. “Hmm?”

“There's something I want to tell you.”

Her mother put down her fork, giving Ariya her full attention. “Okay. I'm listening.”

Ariya straightened in her chair.

“So, Lea and I were talking after our exams today, and she found a university we really like.”

“Oh?” Her mother's face brightened. “Which university?”

“Kangwon National University.”

“Where is that?”

Ariya swallowed.

“Chuncheon. South Korea.”

For a moment, her mother's smile remained.

Then it slowly disappeared.

“South Korea?”

“Yeah.”

Her mother stared at her as though she had misheard.

“Why South Korea?”

Ariya had expected the question. She had even prepared an answer on her way home, but now that she was sitting in front of her mother, every carefully arranged word seemed to have abandoned her.

“Well, the university offers the courses we want. Lea wants to study Psychology, and I want Literature. And…” She paused, clasping her fingers together beneath the table. Her thumb moved restlessly against the side of her index finger. “I thought it would be nice to experience another country. You know, learn about the culture, meet new people, and—”

“You are not going, Ariya.”

The words landed so abruptly that Ariya forgot what she had been saying.

She blinked.

“But… Mum—”

“End of discussion.”

Her mother picked up her glass and took a sip of water.

Ariya stared at her.

That was it?

No questions about the university. No discussion about accommodation, finances, safety, or how far away Chuncheon was from Los Angeles.

Just no.

Her mother returned to her food, but Ariya could no longer pretend she was hungry.

“Mum, you haven't even heard me out.”

“I have heard enough.”

“But you don't even know anything about the school!”

“I don't need to know anything about it. You're not going.”

Her mother pushed her chair back and stood.

Something inside Ariya tightened.

“Why?” she asked.

Her mother paused.

“Because I said so.”

“That isn't a reason!”

The words came out louder than Ariya intended.

Her mother turned to face her.

Ariya immediately regretted raising her voice, but the frustration building inside her was too much to swallow.

“I don't understand,” she continued, her eyes already beginning to sting. “I'm not asking to run away or do something stupid. It's a university. I'm going there to study. And I'll come home during the holidays, so it's not like you'll never see me again.”

Her mother said nothing.

“Why can't I choose where I want to go to school?”

For a moment, something changed in her mother's expression.

The sternness faltered, replaced by an emotion Ariya couldn't quite identify.

Fear, perhaps.

Or sadness.

“You don't understand what you're asking me to let you do,” her mother said quietly.

Ariya frowned.

“Then explain it to me.”

Her mother's lips parted.

For one brief second, Ariya thought she was finally going to get an answer.

Instead, her mother looked away.

“I'm your mother. I know what's best for you.”

“But how am I supposed to understand that when you won't tell me anything?”

“That's enough, Ariya.”

“No, it's not!” Ariya wiped at the corner of her eye. “You keep making decisions for me, and I'm supposed to accept them without asking questions. I'm not a little girl anymore!”

Her mother's face tightened.

“I said enough.”

The finality in her voice silenced Ariya.

Her mother turned and walked away.

Ariya remained at the table, staring at the untouched food in front of her.

She had imagined this conversation going differently. Perhaps her mother would worry, ask a hundred questions, or insist on researching the university herself.

She hadn't expected this.

She hadn't expected her mother to look at the name of a university as though it were something to be afraid of.

And she certainly hadn't expected to be shut out without a proper explanation.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

She wiped it away quickly, annoyed with herself.

“Great,” she muttered. “Just great.”

She pushed her chair back, took her plate to the kitchen, and went upstairs.

By the time she reached her bedroom, the tears had stopped, but the frustration hadn't.

She shut the door, dropped onto her bed, and stared at the ceiling.

South Korea had seemed like an exciting possibility only hours ago.

Now it felt like a dream she hadn't even been allowed to have.

And the worst part?

She still didn't understand why.

Ariya's alarm rang at seven.

She reached for her phone without opening her eyes and silenced it, hoping that somehow, if she remained still long enough, the morning would postpone itself.

Unfortunately, mornings had never been particularly considerate.

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling.

Last night's conversation returned to her almost immediately.

You are not going, Ariya.

Her mother's voice was so clear in her memory that Ariya groaned and pulled her pillow over her face.

“Can we not do this today?”

She eventually dragged herself out of bed, completed her morning routine, and got dressed. Downstairs, she found her mother in the kitchen.

“Morning,” Ariya mumbled.

“Good morning.”

Her mother's voice sounded normal.

Almost too normal.

Ariya opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water.

She wanted to ask whether they could talk again. She wanted to know whether her mother had thought about what happened the previous evening.

Instead, she twisted open the bottle and drank.

Her mother continued preparing breakfast.

Neither of them mentioned South Korea.

Ariya wasn't sure whether she was relieved or disappointed.

She ate what she could, rinsed her plate, and returned upstairs. The rest of the morning passed slowly, with her trying to distract herself from the argument.

She watched videos, scrolled through her phone, and attempted to read something, only to realise she had gone through the same paragraph three times without understanding a word.

By early afternoon, she had had enough of her own thoughts.

She needed to get out of the house.

Preferably somewhere that didn't remind her of her mother, the university, or the fact that her future apparently required parental approval before it could exist.

Ariya grabbed her bag.

There was a coffee shop close to her house.. She had visited it a few times before, and she remembered that it was usually quiet around lunchtime.

That sounded perfect.

The little bell above the door chimed as Ariya stepped inside.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted her, followed by the soft music.

She ordered an iced Americano and a few macarons before finding a quiet table near the window.

For the first few minutes, she did nothing but sip her coffee and watch people passing outside.

It was surprisingly peaceful.

No arguments. No questions. No one telling her what she could or couldn't do.

Just her, her coffee, and a little space to breathe.

She reached for a macaron when a familiar voice spoke behind her.

“Ariya Kings?”

She turned.

Her Literature teacher stood beside the table, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Ma'am?”

“Well, look at that!” The teacher smiled. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Ariya laughed softly. “Hello, ma'am.”

“Do you mind if I sit for a moment?”

“Not at all.”

The teacher placed her bag beside the chair and sat down.

“I was just getting something to drink. How are you? Have you started thinking about university applications?”

Ariya let out a long sigh.

Her teacher raised an eyebrow.

“Should I take that as a no?”

“More like a yes and a very complicated situation.”

“Interesting.” She leaned back slightly. “Have you found a university?”

Ariya hesitated before nodding.

“I saw one.”

“Really? Which one?”

“Kangwon National University.”

Her teacher's eyes widened.

“South Korea?”

Ariya blinked at her sudden excitement.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Oh, Ariya! That's wonderful!”

The enthusiasm in her teacher's voice was so unexpected that Ariya couldn't help laughing.

“Chill, Teach. You're more excited than me when I heard the information.”

Her teacher laughed with her.

“I'm sorry, but that's an exciting opportunity! Have you thought about what studying there could mean for you?”

“A little.”

“Just imagine it. A different country, a different culture, new experiences, and people whose perspectives might be completely different from yours. You're interested in Literature, aren't you? All those experiences could influence the way you understand stories and the way you write them.”

Ariya looked down at her drink.

That was precisely what had attracted her to the idea in the first place.

She wanted to experience something beyond what she already knew. She wanted to learn, explore, and discover what kind of person she could become when she stepped outside the familiar.

But wanting something and being allowed to have it were two very different things.

“I don't know what to tell my mum,” she admitted.

Her teacher's smile softened.

“Have you spoken to her about it?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“She said no.”

“Just like that?”

“Pretty much.”

Ariya picked at the edge of her napkin.

“I tried explaining why I liked the university, but she wouldn't listen. She just kept saying I wasn't going.”

Her teacher was quiet for a moment.

“I understand that your mum might find it difficult to let you study in another city, let alone another continent,” she said. “It's a big decision, and she probably has a lot of concerns.”

Ariya gave a small, humourless laugh.

“Concerns she refuses to explain.”

“Perhaps she needs time to process the idea. You could try talking to her again when things have settled down.”

“Maybe.”

“And Ariya?”

She looked up.

“If you decide to apply and need help with the application process, let me know, okay? I can guide you through what you need to do.”

Ariya's expression softened.

“You'd help me?”

“Of course. That's what teachers are for.”

Ariya smiled for the first time that day without forcing it.

“Okay, ma'am. Thank you.”

“You're welcome, my dear.”

Her teacher glanced towards the counter.

“Oh, and don't worry about your coffee. I'll pay for it.”

Ariya immediately shook her head.

“Ma'am, you really don't have to—”

“Too late. I've decided.”

“That's not how decisions work!”

“Apparently, it is.”

Ariya burst out laughing.

Her teacher grinned, clearly pleased with herself.

“See? You're smiling again. Keep doing that.”

She stood, picked up her bag, and gave Ariya's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Take your time, think things through, and don't give up on something simply because the first conversation was difficult.”

Ariya nodded.

“I won't.”

“Good. I'll see you in class.”

“See you, ma'am.”

Her teacher headed towards the counter, leaving Ariya alone with her coffee and a little more hope than she'd arrived with.

For a while, Ariya simply sat there.

She thought about what her teacher had said, about the opportunities waiting beyond Los Angeles, and about the university that had captured her imagination.

Then she looked out of the window again.

Maybe her mother would change her mind.

Maybe she wouldn't.

But Ariya couldn't spend the rest of her life waiting for someone else to decide what she was allowed to want.

Eventually, she finished her coffee, gathered her things, and left.

3:15 PM — Home

By the time Ariya returned home, she had a decision to make.

She went upstairs, dropped her bag beside her desk, and switched on her laptop.

For a moment, she stared at the screen.

Then she typed the name of the university into the search bar.

Kangwon National University.

The university's website appeared, and Ariya clicked through.

She examined the available programmes, read through the admission information, and searched for details relevant to international students.

Some of the requirements were more complicated than she'd expected. There were documents to prepare, deadlines to consider, and details she would need to confirm before submitting an application.

She opened another tab.

Then another.

Soon, her desk was scattered with handwritten notes, and her phone lay beside her laptop with Lea's messages lighting up the screen.

She barely noticed.

Every new piece of information made the possibility feel a little more real.

This wasn't just an idea she'd discussed with her best friend in a park.

It was a university.

An actual place where she could study, learn, and build a future for herself.

And she wanted to go.

Not because Lea wanted to go.

Not because her teacher thought it was exciting.

Because she wanted it for herself.

By four-thirty, Ariya leaned back in her chair and rubbed her tired eyes.

She had enough information to understand what she needed to do next.

Her stomach fluttered.

She was nervous, but beneath the nerves was something stronger.

Determination.

She picked up her phone and found her teacher's contact.

For a few seconds, she stared at the screen.

Then she pressed call.

The phone rang.

Once.

Twice.

“Hello, Ariya?”

Ariya took a breath.

“Hey, Teach? About what we said…”

5:00 PM — The Conversation

“Mum?”

Ariya stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking towards the living room.

Her mother was seated on the sofa, reading something on her phone. She looked up at the sound of Ariya's voice.

“What is it?”

“Can we talk?”

Her mother put her phone down.

“About what?”

Ariya almost laughed.

As though there were anything else they needed to discuss.

“South Korea.”

Her mother's expression changed immediately.

“Ariya—”

“Please, Mum. Just listen to me.”

Her mother sighed and placed her phone on the table.

“All right. I'm listening.”

Ariya walked into the living room.

“I've been thinking about what happened yesterday, and I still don't understand why you're against it. I understand that you're worried, but you haven't told me what you're worried about.”

“I'm not discussing this again.”

“But why?”

“Because my answer hasn't changed.”

Ariya's hands tightened around the strap of her bag.

“Then tell me what would make you change it!”

Her mother stood.

“I have already told you that you are not going to South Korea.”

“And I've already told you that I want to go!”

The words rang through the room.

Ariya's heart pounded. She had never intended to raise her voice, but every attempt to have a reasonable conversation seemed to end with the same wall between them.

Her mother looked at her in disbelief.

“Don't speak to me like that.”

“Then stop treating me like I can't think for myself!”

Silence.

Ariya swallowed, fighting the urge to cry again.

“Mum, I'm not a child anymore. Either you tell me why you're so against this, or you leave it.”

Her mother's face went pale.

For a moment, Ariya thought she had finally pushed her far enough to get an answer.

Her mother looked away, her fingers curling against her palm.

There it was again.

That strange fear.

Ariya noticed it, but she couldn't understand it.

“Mum?”

“Please,” her mother whispered.

Ariya froze.

It wasn't the response she'd expected.

Her mother closed her eyes briefly before looking at her again.

“You don't understand. There are things you don't know.”

“Then tell me!”

“I can't.”

“Why not?”

Her mother's expression tightened, and whatever vulnerability Ariya had glimpsed disappeared behind the familiar wall.

“Because I said no, Ariya.”

Ariya stared at her.

She had tried being patient. She had tried explaining herself. She had even tried giving her mother time to reconsider.

Nothing had worked.

And now, after all that, her mother was still refusing to tell her the truth.

Ariya drew a slow breath.

“Okay.”

Her mother looked at her cautiously.

“Okay?”

Ariya nodded.

Then she lifted her chin.

“By the way, I have already applied.”

Her mother's face went completely still.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Then her mother took a step towards her.

“You what?”