The sky over Seoul was beginning to soften into the warm hues of late afternoon. Long shadows stretched across the streets, and the golden light clung to every surface like honey. Ahmad walked beside Hyunwoo, their steps in quiet rhythm.
It was one of those days where the world felt suspended — not busy, not rushed — as though it were patiently waiting for something important to happen.
Hyunwoo's hands were buried deep in his coat pockets. His eyes weren't focused on the shops or the passing cars. Instead, they seemed fixed somewhere far away, as if his thoughts had pulled him inward.
Ahmad noticed, of course. He always noticed. But instead of asking, he gave Hyunwoo space. Over the months, Ahmad had learned that sometimes the best thing you can give someone is silence — the kind that says I'm here when you're ready.
A breeze brushed past them, carrying with it the faint smell of roasted chestnuts from a nearby vendor. Ahmad's lips curved into a small smile. "Do you want some?"
Hyunwoo shook his head. "Not right now."
They walked a few more blocks before the small mosque came into view. It wasn't large or elaborate, but there was something inviting about it. Its white walls seemed to glow softly in the fading light, and the green of the dome stood out like a jewel against the deepening sky.
Ahmad slowed his pace, glancing toward Hyunwoo — and then it happened.
"I'm ready," Hyunwoo said suddenly. His voice wasn't loud, but it was steady.
Ahmad blinked. "Ready for what?"
Hyunwoo stopped walking and turned to face him. His dark eyes held a quiet determination. "To say it. Officially. The Shahada… in front of others."
The words seemed to echo inside Ahmad's chest. He stared at Hyunwoo, searching his face for any sign of hesitation — but there was none. Only a calm certainty.
"You… you mean—"
"I mean," Hyunwoo interrupted softly, "I want to be Muslim. Not just between us, not just in my head. I want it to be real."
For a moment, Ahmad could only stare at him. Then the weight of those words hit, and warmth surged through his chest so strongly that it made his eyes sting. "Alhamdulillah…" he whispered, his voice trembling.
Hyunwoo gave a faint, almost shy smile. "You're the one who showed me. You didn't push me. You didn't force me. You just… lived it. And I saw it."
Ahmad swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check, but the lump in his throat wouldn't go away. "You don't know how much this means to me."
---
The mosque entrance felt different that evening. The sound of slippers against the carpeted hallway, the faint hum of Qur'an being recited somewhere in the background, the gentle murmur of men greeting each other — all of it felt richer, fuller, more alive.
They removed their shoes and placed them neatly on the rack. Ahmad could feel his palms sweating.
A few brothers turned their heads curiously when they saw Hyunwoo. Ahmad greeted them with a warm as-salamu alaykum, and they smiled in return.
The imam, a man in his forties with kind eyes and a voice that carried both warmth and authority, walked over. "As-salamu alaykum, brother Ahmad. And who is your friend?"
Ahmad's chest swelled with pride. "This is Hyunwoo… and he's here to say the Shahada."
The imam's expression brightened instantly. "SubhanAllah! Allah has guided another heart today." He turned to Hyunwoo, speaking in clear, gentle Korean so he would understand. "Are you ready, my son?"
Hyunwoo nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm ready."
The imam led them to the front of the prayer hall. A few more people gathered, some pausing their reading, others leaving conversations to witness. Ahmad stood slightly behind Hyunwoo, his hands clasped together.
The imam explained the meaning of the Shahada slowly: "To bear witness that there is no god worthy of worship except Allah, and that Muhammad is His messenger."
Hyunwoo listened carefully, his eyes steady.
Then the imam invited him to repeat the words. The room felt so still that Ahmad could hear his own heartbeat.
Hyunwoo's voice was clear, steady:
"Ashhadu an la ilaha illa Allah, wa ashhadu anna Muhammadan rasul Allah."
The sound of it — those blessed words — left Ahmad frozen in awe. The tears he had been holding back spilled over.
The imam embraced Hyunwoo. "Welcome to Islam, my son. Today, you are as pure as the day you were born. All your past sins are forgiven."
A few brothers stepped forward, hugging Hyunwoo, congratulating him in Korean, Arabic, and English. Someone said "MashaAllah, welcome brother!" and another patted his shoulder warmly.
Ahmad stepped forward and pulled Hyunwoo into a hug, holding him tightly. "I'm so proud of you… you don't even know."
Hyunwoo whispered back, "Thank you… for everything."
---
Maghrib prayer was called soon after. The imam's voice rose in the adhan, filling the hall with its melodic call. Hyunwoo stood beside Ahmad in the front row.
Ahmad guided him gently — where to place his hands, when to bow, when to prostrate. Every movement felt precious, as if they were stepping into sacred ground together.
When they both gave salaam at the end, Hyunwoo turned his head toward Ahmad and smiled through his tears. "I think I finally understand why you love this so much."
Ahmad returned the smile, his own voice thick with emotion. "And now, we can love it together."
---
Outside, the night air was cool and crisp. Stars peeked through the deep indigo sky. They walked side by side, their shoulders brushing.
Hyunwoo broke the silence. "You know… it feels different now. Like a door opened."
Ahmad nodded slowly. "That's because it did. Allah opened your heart, and now you're walking a new path."
Hyunwoo's lips curved into a thoughtful smile. "Then I'll walk it with you. Always."
And under the quiet Seoul night, they kept walking — two souls bound now not only by love, but by faith.