Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

ACT I: Part I - First Things First

It’s chaos. That’s the first thing Seoyeon knows, and she’s yet to even open her eyes. The first thing that she registers is the granules pressed against her back, sullying her hair, then the moisture that’s seeped into her clothes. There, faintly, is the distant yet distinct smell of smoke. And when the high-pitched squeal in her ears finally clears, it’s the screaming. 

Frantically opening her eyes, she scrambles up, wincing suddenly at the dizziness that rushes to her head, the sunlight beaming down on her skin. Her heartbeat stutters in her own ears.

There’s far too much happening all around her, and yet it’s almost as if she can focus on none of it at all. There’s that acrid taste in her mouth. People stumbling all about her, calling names, screaming them out. The shoreline washes into her, slithering around her feet – dampening and sinking her a little further into the sand – before it retreats back to sea. The screaming has faded to a constant in the background. She’s barely even registered the scene when she locks in to the closest person: a man, clutching his left calf, bleeding as a bloodied shard of metal lays in his other hand. Rushing over, she kneels beside him, already ripping a strip of cloth from her sleeve.

“Are you okay, sir? Can you move your leg?”

He groans slightly, shaking his head, before turning over to the side, spitting a glob of blood into the sand beneath them. He looks about ready to pass out, wheezing heavily.

“Just bear with me now,” she says, tying the tourniquet around his thigh, cutting off the blood flow. As she secures it, the man loses consciousness. It’s not until he falls fully to his side that she sees the giant metal shard, lodged deep into the back of his right-side ribs. Blood pools around the wound, seeping into the sand below them. Her breath hitches; his stops entirely. Stumbling back, she can't help the heave that follows, tears watering in her eyes from the sight and the smoke. She holds it in, eyes darting around as she spots another body: drenched, yet unmoving on the shore. She looks young – barely a teenager, at most – and Seoyeon scrambles towards her, digging her heels into the sand. She turns the girl over, listening in. 

She isn’t breathing.

Laying her flat, Seoyeon begins her compressions, desperately driving her palms into the girl’s chest. She needs her to survive. She needs this.

On the twenty-third compression, the girl gasps, eyes shooting open as she keels over, water spilling from her throat. 

Seoyeon lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding, desperation streaking down her cheeks in the wind, mixing with the seawater. “Can you breathe properly? Are… Are you alright?” 

The teenager coughs out the rest of the water, before weakly turning her head towards the woman. “Y-yeah, I think so… Thank–” 

“Seoah! S– Jeong Haerin!” Another girl – maybe slightly older than the other, Seoyeon guesses – with black bangs framing her face races towards the kid beside her, arms locking in an embrace. Seoyeon’s tense gaze softens a bit at the interaction, before hardening again as another scream echoes from her right. 

“Thank you for saving her,” the girl’s voice wobbles. “I don’t know what I’d– Hey, wait! I didn’t even get your name!”

Seoyeon’s already crouched down beside another body. The girl’s right leg is trapped under metal that must have broken off from the fuselage; it isn’t particularly large, but she can’t lift it on her own. The girl herself is desperately trying to pry herself from under the metal, the mix of sweat and seawater plastering her brown bangs to her forehead, although their combined strength still isn’t enough. Eyes darting around, everyone around them – men and women, alike – are all already preoccupied with helping others, or getting to safety themselves. Seoyeon’s gaze locks onto a woman, who seems to be around her age, sitting up in the sand but frozen, eyes closed. Probably from the shock, she surmises. “Hold on a minute,” she tells the girl, who nods weakly.

She rushes over to the unmoving woman, placing a hand on her shoulder and shaking it. “Hey, hey! You’ve gotta help me.” Her eyes snap open. Seoyeon points over to the trapped girl, “We have to lift it off.” 

The pair scramble over to the girl and, with their collective strength, lift the metal debris high enough to drag her out from beneath it. The other woman supports the girl’s weight, letting her drape an arm over her shoulder. 

“Listen, I think there might be gas leaking from the fuselage. It’s not– It’s not safe here. You have to move further up the beach, got it?” 

“What about you?” the younger girl coughs out. 

“I can still help people. You– I, just– You guys have to go. I need– The others still need me,” she says, eyes darting around once more. 

“Wait, wait, hold on! Before you leave… what’s your name?” the woman asks, eyes pleading. 

“Seoyeon. Yoon Seoyeon.” 

She’s already turning away, as the other woman stutters out, “O-okay. I’m– My name’s… Jiyeon.” 

Seoyeon nods in acknowledgement as the two hobble away upshore, before running closer to the burning fuselage herself. The smoke is pungent in her lungs, stinging in her throat as she inhales, adrenaline pumping through her legs. It burns with every step she takes closer to the stray bodies littered around the beach, still struggling and calling out for help. Calling out for her help. 

“Get away from there–! ” 

She barely has enough time to register the voice from behind her, when the tip of the aeroplane wing breaks off, crashing down on a pair of people running off.  She’s left only with horror, watching as one of the injured is pulled toward the still-spinning turbine. Fuck. 

She makes it a total of five steps upshore before the turbine and the attached wing explode behind her, the heat prickling the skin on her nape – another layer of heat adding to the sun beating down against her. Despite the adrenaline still flowing through her veins, she can already start to sense the exhaustion seeping in. 

“Hey, you!” 

Seoyeon catches doe eyes widened open, matching the voice of the person who had warned her earlier. She’s kneeled down beside another woman, whose pants have been cut off around the knee, a tourniquet wrapped around her upper calf.  

“Can you help me get her further down the beach? She’s barely conscious.” 

Seoyeon nods, hurrying over. The two wrap each of the woman’s arms around their shoulders, lifting her off of the sand. They trudge their way over, further down the beach and away from the wreckage. They’ve made it far enough that they don’t have to run anymore, but the heat from the fire behind them still nips at them, urging the two to hurry a little faster. Eventually, they reach a spot on the beach far enough where the smoke is barely detectable in the air anymore, most of the other survivors having gathered in small groups. One of the men closer to the shoreline is handing out water bottles and Seoyeon rushes to grab a couple, returning to the pair. “Here,” she says, handing a bottle to the woman who had called out to her. 

“Thank you,” she smiles in gratitude, despite everything, unscrewing the cap. Seoyeon rips off another piece of cloth from her shirt, dampening the inner side of the ripped sleeve with her water. 

“Hold on, this might sting a little,” she says to the woman lying next to them, who’s currently struggling to keep her eyes open, grimacing as she cleans the gash on her lower calf. Now that she’s cleaned off a lot of the blood, it’s clear that the wound was deep, though the tourniquet managed to prevent any major blood loss. Turning her over slightly and further pouring water over her cloth, she finds several burn wounds littering her arms and shoulders.

“Hey, don’t you think you should save some of that for yourself?” 

Seoyeon continues to clean around the burn wounds of their now-unconscious patient. An arm reaches out to hers, taking the cloth from her hands. She looks up quizzically as the woman opposite her uses the cloth to continue dabbing at the wounds. 

“Drink. I saw how you’ve been running around since earlier. You’ve gotta rest,” she urges, pressing carefully against the burns. Seoyeon takes a scan of the other’s work; she doesn’t appear to be pressing directly onto the wounds, aside from the hand keeping pressure on the calf injury. Sighing – in exhaustion or relief, maybe both – Seoyeon allows herself the moment of respite, gulping down from the bottle. 

The woman nods her head towards her. “The name’s Seo Dahyun, yours?” 

“Yoon Seoyeon.” She surveys around, watching the survivors who had managed to make it to their side of the beach. Most of the other small groups of people are either tending to the injured, or resting. The wind whips around them, a contrast to the relentless sun, now having risen enough to angle directly on their position. From their position higher upshore, she spots the people she’d helped earlier: Jiyeon and the younger brunette girl, along with Seoah… or Jeong Haerin? Whichever her name was. Oh, and the girl who’d ran up to them. They’d all managed to find one another and, along with one other girl, the five are huddled together, speaking – words that Seoyeon couldn’t make out from their position. 

Realising something, she squints, bemused. Scanning over the beach, she scoffs, a little in shock. There are a fair amount of men grouped together, but strangely enough, there’s a disproportionate amount of girls and younger women about. 

“Well, Yoon Seoyeon. In case you haven’t noticed… you’re kind of bleeding.” She gestures to a gash on Seoyeon’s arm, pulling her from her thoughts. Huh. She was right; she hadn’t even realised. As she begins to tend to her own wound, Dahyun continues, “Isn’t this a little crazy? I mean, what the hell, right? Doesn’t this kind of stuff only happen in the movies?” 

“Yeah, well, clearly no—” 

The upper half of the woman beneath them suddenly shoots up, coughing and wheezing as she turns to her side, elbows pressed into the sand to support herself. Eyes watering, she mumbles weakly.

Dahyun presses a hand to her shoulder, trying to calm her down. “What’s she saying?” Seoyeon asks. 

Leaning in a little closer, they barely catch the words. “Hy-Hyeongseo…” she coughs out, a dazed look crossing her features. Her eyes shift focus to the two women in front of her. “The… the satellite phone…” Her head falls back into the sand, short blonde hair falling over her face as she loses consciousness once more.

Seoyeon stared out the window on her right, watching as one of the turbines outside propelled the aeroplane forwards. They’d already been in the air for about an hour or so, but it was weird – she felt like she should’ve still been able to see land from here. At the very least, she thought there would’ve been lights from any of the cities below. But perhaps it was a good thing. Away from the light pollution of Tokyo, the stars were visible from above, unable to hide away in the cloak of darkness the night usually provides. There’s a scuffle of movement from the aisle on the left side of the aeroplane and some hushed whispers; turning, Seoyeon watched as a taller woman in a black leather jacket rushed down the aisle, towards the front section of the plane, lips spread in a sort of toothy grin. Moments later, another woman followed her down dressed in neat-formal wear, features schooled to a neutral expression. She bumped into the same passenger that the first woman apparently had, and there were some angry comments thrown around that Seoyeon couldn’t hear from her side. Eventually, Formal-Wear Woman managed to pacify the seated passenger, continuing onwards up the aisle. As she strained her ears, Seoyeon thought she heard some sort of metallic clinking noise from Formal-Wear Woman, though she couldn’t be sure. 

“Sooo… whatd’ya think all that was about?” A soft-spoken voice sounded out in Korean, as the two disappeared from view. Seoyeon shifted her focus, peaking past the hooded passenger asleep on her left to find a woman in the opposing aisle seat. Her pale–pink sweater paws leaned over her armrest, long black hair only slightly covering her eyes, dancing with a little mirth as they watched her curiously. 

“Heh, well… something tells me they’re not heading off to the bathroom together.” From the same left-side aisle, a different woman dressed in a jersey rushed down from the front, before entering the central-economy bathroom closest to that side. The two shared a playful smile, as the Aisle-Seat Stranger giggled. 

“Well no, I suppose not.” Aisle-Seat Stranger hummed for a moment, before musing, “Maybe they’re having some epic chasedown moment? Y’know, like how the good guys go to catch the bad guys in some tense action scene?” 

The passenger to Seoyeon’s left suddenly turned toward her, and Seoyeon was now able to see that she was a younger girl. “Can you two can it? Some of us are trying to sleep,” she grumbled in her half-asleep state, pulling the strings of her hoodie tighter around her feline-like features, which only really made her look like a disgruntled cat. 

The two women beside her suppressed their laughs, Aisle-Seat Stranger shaking her head at Seoyeon, mouthing, Mooooody. Teenagers, huh? 

Seoyeon huffed, but her lips quirked upwards. She decided to give the kid a break, lowering her voice to a whisper, but still humouring Aisle-Seat Stranger. “Lamest action movie ever. Even if it were though, what would that make us then? The extras?”  

“Hmm, well that does make us sound a little boring–” 

“Attention, all passengers. We are about to experience some turbulence, so please remain seated. There appears to be an unprecedented storm, but this should not cause too much trouble…” An announcement sounded from the aeroplane’s PA system; every sentence alternated between Japanese and its Korean translation. The floor began to rumble beneath them, rattling the seats against each other, the tray tables from other seats clattering as cutlery fell to the floor.

“Well, there’s your action,” Seoyeon mused, buckling herself in as her grumpy seat–neighbour roused awake, still disoriented.  

“ … I repeat, please heed the red seat belt sign above; if you are currently away from your seat, please find an empty seat nearby, or follow one of our flight attendants–”  

The PA system was suddenly cut off, static resounding throughout the plane, followed by a squealing frequency. Seoyeon thought she heard Aisle-Seat Stranger scream, and the aeroplane began to dip frontwards; one of the flight attendants hurrying past their aisle hit the ceiling in free-fall, as the emergency masks fell from their compartments. 

Panicking, Seoyeon grabbed her mask as quickly as she could, securing it over her own face, before checking on Hoodie-Girl and Aisle-Seat Stranger. Her aisle-buddy seemed to have secured the mask over her face, though in her confusion, Hoodie-Girl somehow still hadn’t managed to even get her belt on. Seoyeon scrambled, batting off the stray flying objects headed in their direction while reaching for the mask, fitting it onto Hoodie-Girl’s face. 

There was no time for gratitude, as the orientation of the plane caused the blood to rush to her head, gravity doing its work as the blood pooled into her brain and clouded her thoughts. The feeling of it was making her light-headed, and in moments, she was out. 

Soomin hoists herself up into the remains of the fuselage, the fires only having recently gone out, with the smoke and the smell of something putrid still filling her lungs. The other survivors seemed to have split up into their own little teams, gathering any packed food or water that was washing back to shore, or trying to start fires so they could be spotted by any overpassing planes or boats. Most, if not everyone, had decided to forgo exploring the wreckage. Ah, well. All the better for her, at least. The metal creaks slightly as she trudges through the aisles, and– Oh. 

There are still bodies left in the seats – those who had died on impact.

Hesitating for only a moment, she shrugs it off, moving forward while ignoring the queasiness rolling around in her stomach. Counting the aisle seat numbers upwards, she knows she’s close to hers. Seat 48F. Reaching it, she fumbles around her pockets for her phone, which somehow miraculously hadn’t gotten drenched during or after the crash. Attempting to plug it into the still-attached cable, she sighs in exasperation. Whatever had been powering the plane clearly isn’t working anymore. She only has 43% of her battery left. What a waste. 

Sliding out of the seat, she rummages around in the storage compartment above, looking for her bag. Could be useful too, to look through some of the other bags.

A thought that had settled into the back of her mind crawls forward once more. Some of these bags probably belonged to the bodies around her. 

Swallowing the bile rising in her throat, she pats around the compartment, only to find that most of it is cleared. Weird – the compartment was closed, so how could they have fallen out? 

Something clatters in the darkness of the fuselage, closer to the tail end – a rustling coming from further within. What the hell was that? 

She pats around for something to arm herself with, fingers grasping around something metallic. A crutch, apparently. Steeling herself, she holds the crutch close to her chest, handle pointing outwards before she calls out, “W-Who’s there?”

A boy emerges from the shadows – probably around her age, although a lot taller. He’s got a large bag wrapped around one of his shoulders. “Just looking for my stuff, you know. What’s it to you?” 

Soomin nods, though mostly to herself; neither can see very well in the dark. “Same, just… Can’t find it, for some reason.” 

“Must have gotten lost when we crashed,” the guy nods along. 

She walks a little closer, thinking it might be worth checking the galley, or further inwards to see if her bag had fallen down somewhere. As she gets closer, she notices something, though. The boy’s lugging a few bags with him, not just one. And sticking out from his duffel, there’s another bag. Attached to it, a handmade crocheted Cinnamoroll keychain with one lopsided ear, the initials ‘K—’ stitched onto it. 

“Hey! That bag, that’s mine!” she calls out indignantly, pointing it out with the crutch. 

The guy looks off to the side sighing, before eyeing her up and down. “Goddammit…” 

“Wait… A-Are you seriously looting the wreckage right now? These things… they belong to people!” 

The guy scoffs, laughing mirthlessly. “Look around, dumbass. Everyone’s already dead.” 

“I’m not. Give me back my stuff!” 

“Sorry, loser. Finders, keepers. Dig through some of the others stuff – there’s plenty I haven’t gone through yet anyways.” Smirking, he shrugs her off, moving to leave. 

“Hey, asshole. Give her back her shit.” Another voice speaks out from the dark. Soomin squints to her right, eyes widening as a girl with bright, scarlet-red hair steps out. 

“Oh, yeah?” The guy sizes her up; he’s probably at least half a foot taller than her, “And if I don’t? What are you gonna do about it, huh, short stack?”

It takes Soomin one blink. One blink, and the red-haired girl has crossed to their aisle, a fist knocking the boy square in the face. He’s down, elbow against the carpeted floor as his other hand clutches his nose, now bleeding. “EURGH! What– What the fuck!?” 

Bloodied knuckles push him onto his side – as he’s now sort of just writhing on the floor – grasping for the duffel and one of the backpacks on his shoulder, slipping it around her own. She moves toward Soomin, shoving the duffel into her chest, who fumbles as she awkwardly manoeuvres between the crutch – which she’s still holding, for some reason –and the bag, which she manages to sling around her shoulders. “I-Uhh, thank you…?” she prompts.

The girl doesn’t grace her with a response. Instead, she turns to cross the aisle once more, but they’re interrupted by yet another entrance into the fuselage. Another guy with dark-brown hair, maybe a few years older than them, and a hell of a lot taller than them, too. He crouches down, inspecting the other boy’s face.

“Damn, Yujin, the hell happened to you?” he laughs, almost teasingly. “See something you like a little too much?” he says, wiggling his eyebrows between him and the girls. Soomin scrunches up her nose in disgust.

The blood’s still pouring out from his nose, despite the fact that he’s got his fingers pinched around his nostrils. “You– Gah, that– that fucking bitch over there sucker-punched me for it!” the boy – apparently, Yujin – says, flinging his arm over to gesture toward the mystery girl, whose sharp features have furrowed into further annoyance. 

“She– You…You fucking what?!” The older guy’s voice is completely drained of the warmth that was there earlier, only a harsh coldness, pupils contracting as he turns to lock eyes with the red-haired girl, who had simply stopped moving behind her. Soomin panics for a moment. God, what if she gets used as some sort of human-meat-shield? What if this man just bulldozes over her to get to the other girl? The look on this guy’s face is downright murderous, and oh god. She doesn’t want to be turned into a Soomin-pancake today. She prays to whatever god may be listening – preferably the one that dictated she survive a freaking plane crash – that it doesn’t end like this.

Her worries of pancake-ification are somewhat short-lived, as the girl steps around her, putting herself between Soomin and the man. Being so up close to the other girl’s face, she feels a little worried for her too. Like sure, she downed that first boy in one punch, but facing a fully-grown man who’s twice her size? Soomin worries that might be too much, even for her. It’s not like she exactly has the element of surprise here, either. 

“Yujin was being a piece of shit. He deserved it,” the girl sneers, further egging the guy on, for whatever damn reason. 

“Don’t say his fucking name. You don’t know shit about him!” The man gets closer, gripping the girl’s hoodie, though she still holds her ground.

Ah, fuck. Soomin might’ve been a little impressed, if she didn’t think it was so stupid. She doesn’t like where this is heading. Really, she has half a mind to just take what she came here for and dip, desperately not wanting to become pancake–collateral. 

But for whatever damn reason – probably a little impulsively, and definitely a little idiotically – she does not do that, her hand instead wrapping around the other girl’s wrist, tugging slightly. 

“Come on. Let’s just… let’s not do this, alright?” she whispers hurriedly. The other girl just huffs at her, unmoving, still staring the man down, fists clenched.

Soomin sighs, already knowing that pursuing that would be like talking to a brick wall. She turns to the man, hoping for a little less than concrete. “Listen, okay, she didn’t even do anything wrong! Your friend was the one all–” 

“And who the fuck are you?” He turns his gaze to her, eyes flickering with rage; it’s the kind of look that she hasn’t seen directed at her in a long time. An image of a pancake, thrown against and sticking to a brick wall, flashes briefly through her mind. 

“Alright! Since y’all seem to like swearing so much: everyone in the fuselage, get the fuck out, all of you! ” A voice echoes in from the outside, a metallic banging reverberating from the side of the hull. The man’s grip loosens slightly, as all four of them turn toward the rear-entrance. 

A taller woman, metal baseball bat in-hand, quirks an eyebrow at them, expression stern. 

“Out. Now.”

The tall woman leads them out towards what looks to be the base for a small campfire, where a small crowd has gathered, the four of them all trailing after her in a single-file line. It makes Soomin feel a lot like those delinquents who always get in trouble at school. She walks with her head faced down, the crutch still-in-hand dragging across the sand, having been delegated to the back of the line.

“This is stupid,” she thinks she hears Yujin grumble from in front of them. “Who the hell put her in charge, anyway? We don’t have to listen to them.” He does have a fair point, but still. The person leading them can’t be that much older than them – hell, she looks like she could even be their age. But for some reason, she carries this air of authority about her, and there’s… something else – something that Soomin can’t put her finger on – that scares her a bit. 

Hearing the whispering, the woman turns around to look at him, settling her steely gaze on him. “Look here. This?” – she gestures to her bat, lifting it up slightly – “isn’t exactly my weapon of choice, but I will not hesitate to use it on you.” 

Yujin seems to at least have the brain to back off a little, cowering slightly. Metal-Bat Lady turns to look at all of them, “On any of you. Now come on.” 

Oh, maybe that’s what’s scaring Soomin. You know, the metal stick in her hand that she’s threatening to beat them with. 

Approaching a little closer, another woman in a pink sweater bounds up to Metal-Bat Lady as they stop around the yet-to-be-lit campfire. “So what’s going on, Jiwoo? What was all the shouting about?” 

“Yeah.” Another man stands, dusting himself off. “What was all that about?” His gaze darts between both the men and Metal-Bat Lady – Jiwoo, Soomin mentally corrects herself. “And why are you bleeding?” he says to the boy.

“Honestly, Yubin, I’m not really sure,” Jiwoo shrugs. “I kinda just told them to shut up and come out here. They were being too loud, even from all the way over there. It was giving me a headache.” Yubin facepalms a bit, slapping the sleeve of her pink sweater across her forehead.

“I was just trying to get my stuff, honestly – I don’t even know how I got here,” Soomin announces.

“Hanbin, she punched me in the face!” Yujin cries out, aggrieved, pointing at Red-Haired Girl. Somehow, he’s managed to bleed all the way from the wreckage to this side of the beach. At this point, maybe they should be concerned about him bleeding out? Hanbin hands him a torn piece of cloth, which he promptly presses against his nose.

Soomin tries to explain. “That’s only ‘cause–”

“Yeah, honestly did you a favour. Your face looks a lot better,” the other girl cuts in, shrugging.

“YOU LITTLE–” the tall, brown-haired man starts to charge at her again. 

Hanbin grabs him by the collar of his shirt. “Relax, Gyuvin.” Oh, that’s what his name is. Soomin supposes it’s nice to know the name of the guy who might’ve-maybe-sort-of-probably-could-have killed her.

“What is wrong with y’all?” Jiwoo shakes her head, leaning her weight against the metal bat like a cane.  

Yubin squints at Red-Haired Girl, walking closer in her direction. “Hold on– Wait, you! You’re that moody teenager! Row-Row 45, right? Wait, you have red hair?”

“What?” the girl stares at her for a bit, before narrowing her eyes. “Oh. You.” 

Jiwoo turns to face them. “You guys know each other?” 

Yubin perks up. “Yeah!” “No.” Red-Haired Girl deadpans.

“What?” They all stand there for a bit, confused, trading glances with one another.

“…”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Hanbin says after the beat of prolonged silence, stepping forward. He turns to Yujin, “What happened?”

“Well, I was going to get our bags, like you’d asked, and then she,” Yujin gestures to Soomin, “came in and kinda started waving around that crutch. And I was just going to mind my business really, before Little-Hot-Head over here suddenly sucker-punched me in the face!” 

The girl seethes, her bloodied knuckles tightening as she clenches her fist, before Yubin places a hand on her shoulder, stepping in. “She wouldn’t do that for no reason, grumpy as she looks.” The teenager loosens her grip, but only slightly, staring at the hand resting on her shoulder. Yubin doesn’t drop it, and instead shifts to face Soomin, “What really happened?” 

“Well, I honestly was just going to get my stuff– I mean I kinda tried to charge my phone at first just to see if there was any power left in the plane but like nope, that shit’s gone. Which I guess makes sense, because the whole thing kinda exploded before so duh, why would there be any power left, right? Anyway, it was really dark, so I tried patting around to find my stuff, but then I heard this noise, but I was really nervous so I kinda second-guessed myself and thought it might’ve been nothing–” 

“Wh-Get to the point?” Jiwoo blurts, exasperated.

“Ah. Right. Well Yujin kinda just showed up from out of nowhere, but he said he was searching for his stuff too, which was fine. But then I noticed my keychain sticking out from his duffel bag!” Soomin continues. 

“The duffel bag that you’re holding right now?” Hanbin asks, eyebrow raised.

“W-Well yeah, but! I only got it because of… her,” Soomin waves an arm in the direction of Red-Haired Girl. “I told Yujin to give me back my stuff, but he refused, then out of nowhere, she showed up and told him to give it back too. But he said no again and kinda made fun of her,” she pauses, breathing out, “So she went and socked him in the face.” 

“How do you even know that it’s your keychain? That…” Gyuvin gestures to the plush, still peeking out from the bag, “...thing– I-I mean, I don’t know, it’s a popular character.” He seems to have calmed down as Soomin explains, at least a little.

“It’s Cinnamoroll,” Soomin proclaims, miffed, “and I know because it-it was handmade, alright?” She takes her bag out of the duffel to show it off, pointing to the lopsided ear. “It’s got my initials on it, see? Kim Soomin.” 

“Okay so, what happened after that?” Jiwoo asks.

“Right, right, so. She went and grabbed the duffel as well as that other bag on her back, ‘cause at that point he was sort of just squirming around on the floor–”

“I was NOT squirming–”

“Can you not? ” “You totally were, dude.” Yubin levels a look at him, tightening her fists, while Gyuvin snickers, recalling the memory.

“–And then she came over and gave the duffel to me, which is why I have it now,” Soomin continues, looking towards Hanbin. “Then, Gyuvin? If that’s his name? That guy there, he came in and started laughing at Yujin, but he switched up all of a sudden when Yujin said he got punched by that girl, and it was kinda crazy honestly. Like his whole vibe changed, it was really wild, like he looked like he was ready to kill her or something, man.”

Gyuvin mumbles, “I didn’t know he stole from you guys.”

“I didn’t– Ugh…” Yujin trails off after a pointed look from Hanbin, who looks to Soomin, prompting her to continue.

“I was kinda between the two so I was really scared to be honest, like I just wanted out of there at that point ‘cause Gyuvin looked like he was going to start getting all up in her face, but she honestly kinda saved me ‘cause she moved me out of the way, and that’s where they started to square off, or whatever. But I was worried so I tried to diffuse shit and uh,” Soomin looks to Jiwoo, “that’s when you charged in with your… metal bat.” 

“Man, why did you steal their stuff, huh?” Gyuvin turns to Yujin.

“I–” They’re all facing him now, the two girls in particular staring him down. “Look, I honestly didn’t know it was theirs. And I mean, come on,” he sighs, exasperated. “Most of the people from the plane… can’t even get their luggage back anymore, alright?” 

There’s a beat of silence as they acknowledge who he’s talking about. 

“Well, why’d you keep it even after they told you to give it back?” Jiwoo asks. 

“I… Okay, Gyuvin’s right. It is a popular character. I…” he trails off, before mumbling a little, “I know someone who would like it back home, okay? If it belonged to… one of the people who’s still in the plane, I didn’t want it to go to waste, alright? I really didn’t see the initials. I thought you were just looting, same as me.” 

Gyuvin scoffs, rubbing the nape of his neck a little sheepishly. “Goddammit bro, you’re making me look like an idiot over here. I’m just trying to be a good hyung, but man, you suck.” He sucks his teeth, before turning to the girls and grunting out, “I’m… sorry about this idiot. I really didn’t know.” 

Hanbin whacks them both over their heads with his palms—though not too hard, the two guys yelp in pain anyway. “You’re both idiots.” He looks at Gyuvin first, “You’ve really got to stop being so hot-headed. It’s gonna get you in serious trouble, one of these days. I swear, maybe you’re lucky you didn’t get into a fight with…?” He looks towards the red-haired girl.

Soomin turns, curious to finally know the name of her mystery saviour. “Hyerin.” She answers, tone monotonous.

“Right, Hyerin,” Hanbin continues, looking back at Gyuvin, “Seeing the state of Yujin, maybe she really would have beat your ass.”

“Hey!” Yujin exclaims, indignant. 

“And you,” Hanbin narrows his eyes at him. “Yes, I did tell you to go get our stuff. I did not tell you to go and rob the dead!” He shifts, eyes softening as he looks out to the entire group of survivors. “Or the living, for that matter.” Yujin sulks at him, but doesn’t say anything further.

“Actually,” Jiwoo cuts in. “That brings up a fair point.” 

Yubin chimes in. “What does?” 

“What are we meant to do? With all the luggage and the bags, I mean? There are lots of passengers who’ve passed away. There’s also lots of people who are alive, but probably lost their stuff after the crash. I mean, we’ve still got things floating in back from the sea. So what are we meant to do with all the stuff while we wait for rescue?” 

The group ponders for a moment, letting the question sink in. They hadn’t really thought that far ahead. 

“I think…” Yubin starts, “there’s still quite a few people who need help with their injuries. There could be stuff in some of that luggage that could help. Then again, I don’t know, I don’t really want to desecrate the dead or whatever.” 

“What if we hold a little baggage claim later? See who owns what. There should be name tags on most of the suitcases, and people’s passports should still be around. We can go through and see if anyone has medicine that could be useful, or any other medical tools. Any food or water, we should share around. Just until we get saved, right?” Hanbin suggests.

Soomin wonders aloud, “What about the people who lost stuff to the crash?” 

“Maybe…” Jiwoo thinks, “we should pool together what we can from the deceased, make a shared resource area for everyone. Leave personal items like passports and photos and other little trinkets or whatever, but just take anything that could be of help to us now. Just to– I don’t know. Respect the dead, really. Their families would probably want them afterwards, you know. That should be enough to tide us all over, at least until we get rescued.” 

The rest of the group, along with the small number of people who have managed to crowd around them and were listening in, murmur in agreement, nodding their heads along. They all decide to go in small groups to fetch whatever’s left of the luggage, although patently decide to keep Yujin off the retrieval team. He doesn’t object, opting for utter silence. After their little impromptu meeting seems to adjourn, the crowd that’s gathered seems to disperse after that, with people deciding whether or not they want to scan the beach to gather any flotsam, or go to the wreckage.

The two young men walk off, with Hanbin trailing behind them, probably getting ready to make the first trip to retrieve the baggage. Wordlessly, Hyerin sets off further upshore. Conflicted, Soomin looks between her and the two women, pausing to talk to the pair first.

“Thanks for… sticking up for me, I guess.” 

“I didn’t really do anything,” Jiwoo says, indifferent. 

“Okay, well,” Soomin turns to Yubin instead. “Thanks for helping me out of that, anyways. I was really worried when they were fighting in that fuselage.” 

Yubin hums thoughtfully, before fully turning to face her. “So… why are you carrying around that crutch? Do you have, like, half a broken leg?”

“I don’t—I don’t think that’s how that works?” Jiwoo scrunches her face up at the other woman.

Soomin just laughs at the two, then turns to bound off in Hyerin’s direction, still dragging the crutch along behind her. 

Jiwoo chuckles, a little in disbelief, before resting the metal bat next to her in the sand and squatting down. “God, what a mess.”

Yubin exhales a breath of amusement as the two sort out the flotsam they’d already gathered. 

“So… how do you know that Hyerin girl, anyway?”

Jiwoo’s organising everything they’ve scavenged over the past few hours into small piles – primarily things they can eat and drink, or clothes that she could either wear or rip up for make-shift bandages, should the need arise. Yubin had gone off on her second trip to the fuselage, having returned from the first one with a first aid kit she’d found luckily in one of the storage compartments. Their little agreement with the men earlier hadn’t entailed what to do with the items that came from the plane itself, so Jiwoo left it in her pile.

Jiwoo herself had circled the beach a couple times, being able to pick up a few stray clothes and tarp that the tide had brought in, which she was currently setting out to dry. It’s been a little tiring working in the afternoon sun, her hard work manifesting in the drops coming down her forehead. At the very least, her jersey made it a little more breathable to keep working. She’s a little glad now that she hadn’t listened to Chaeyeon, who told her the jersey wouldn't be warm enough for when they landed in Korea, wrapped in a puffer jacket herself. Jiwoo sucks in a breath. God. Chaeyeon. 

“Hello?” A feminine voice speaks out, pulling her from her spiralling thoughts. Jiwoo turns to the ‘entrance’ of their little makeshift camp, coming face-to-face with a woman with long, blonde hair, bangs covering her forehead. Waiting just outside her little safety bubble, Jiwoo thinks she looks a bit like a lost puppy. 

“Yes? Can I help you?”

“I’m Yoon Seoyeon,” the blonde says, stepping in. 

“Uhh, sure. Lee Jiwoo, myself.” 

Seoyeon rubs her palms against her thighs, before fiddling with her ripped sleeves. “Ah, this is a little awkward… but I was wondering if you could fill me in on what all the commotion was about earlier? I heard all the yelling and arguing, but I was… a little busy.”

Jiwoo nods along. “Right, right. Well, there was a little trouble back at the fuselage—people were wondering what we were gonna do with all the luggage, but we worked it out. There’s a few of them going through the wreck now, while a lot of us are scavenging what we can from whatever the shore’s bringing in. Oh, and when it gets dark later, I think we’re going to be trying to set off some fires so any search planes flying overhead can see us from down here.” 

“Oh,” Seoyeon hums, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“What were you doing?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you were too ‘busy’ earlier to check out the commotion over here.” 

“Oh right,” Seoyeon says, looking out to somewhere on the beach, “I was helping this injured woman. She said—” She hesitates, locking eyes with Jiwoo for just a moment, before nodding to herself. “She mentioned something that might help us get rescued, if the fires don’t work, I think.” 

Jiwoo tilts her head in question. “Something?” 

“I don’t really know if she—I mean, she’s kinda out cold right now. Her injuries are… mostly burns really, but there’s this wound on her leg that’s been bleeding pretty consistently. Dahyun and I have taken turns taking a look around the beach for any spare cloth we could use, or hell, at this point, probably a needle and thread to stitch up the wound, but we haven’t really found anything.” 

Jiwoo isn’t really sure who Dahyun is, but she nods anyway. “Okay look,” Jiwoo says, taking out the medical kit from beneath the clothes. “We have some stuff for sutures here. But,” she pauses, pulling the kit away from Seoyeon’s grasp, “you have to tell me about whatever that ‘something’ was, whenever this woman wakes up. Or after we’ve set the fires, whichever comes first. Well, unless we get saved before then. In which case, I honestly don’t really care.” 

Seoyeon smiles gratefully, “Fair enough. Thank you, really.” 

Opening the case, she takes out the mini suturing kit within, handing it to the other woman. “Good luck then, Seoyeon.” 

The blonde thanks her and turns on her heel, moving further up the beach. 

“This is why I got the metal bat, and you got to stay behind,” Jiwoo says to her, as she wraps up the gash on Yubin’s arm. Yubin had returned to their camp, along with a few bags, but there was some blood dripping down her right arm, the woman pressing down on it as she trudged back. “What even happened to you? Tripped over air? Got into a fight with some kids?” 

“Har har, real funny,” Yubin deadpans. “One of those guys from earlier, the prick, managed to nick me with one of those metal sheets of debris while we were moving it out of the way,” she hisses, examining the wound. 

Jiwoo dabs a damp cloth onto a bruise that’s started to form on Yubin’s cheek, “What’s with the boxing-match battle scars, then?”

“That…” Yubin exhales, “I might’ve-sort-of-maybe-a-little-bit pushed him after it.” She rubs her nape sheepishly, “then got punched in the face.” 

Jiwoo sighs, a little exasperatedly. Why does everyone keep getting into fights? “Was it any of the men we talked to earlier? You know, the ones involved with that whole Hyerin-Yujin nonsense?”

“No, no, none of them. But uhh, I think they were like, part of the same group? He was walking with Gyuvin, I think, on the way there.”

Jiwoo raises a brow, tearing off the gauze before securing it in place, staying quiet for a beat. “Do you think it was on purpose?” 

“No,” Yubin squints at her, “I-I mean, probably not. What reason would they have for that?” 

“Well, you did kind of side with girls earlier. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve held some sort of grudge against you for it.”

“Wh—Grudge?” Yubin sputters. “I barely even said anything in that conversation!”

“Yeah, but you also mentioned that you knew Hyerin beforehand.”

“I only knew her from the plane!”

“Yeah, well they don’t know that,” Jiwoo surmises. “They probably think you’re closer to her than you are. Plus, some of them didn’t seem too fond of the idea of having to share the stuff from the suitcases, either.”

“Hanbin’s their guy, and he’s the one that thought of the idea!”

“Yeah, well, only after we brought it up in the first place.”

Pursuing her lips, Yubin toys with the idea in her head. “Sooo… what are you saying? What, they’re picking fights on purpose?” 

“You’re kind of picking fights, too. You are the one who pushed him.” 

Yubin throws her arms up in protest.

“Look, I don’t know what I’m saying yet, not really. But hey, even though we’re all stuck on this island together, let’s not forget that we’re all basically just strangers.” Jiwoo stares off outwards, looking out onto the sea, a distant look crossing her face, “None of us really know each other. We don’t know what anyone else here is really capable of.” 

Yubin mulls the words over in her head thoughtfully. 

“Even each other…” she mumbles under her breath.

Jiwoo turns to look her in the eye. 

“Yeah,” she says, staring into her, before looking away, “even each other.”

There’s a moment of silence. Yubin clears her throat, shrugging it off with a roll of her shoulders. “It should be fine. I mean, we’re probably going to get rescued soon, anyway.” 

“Yeah, probably…” says Jiwoo, looking away as she moves to stow the med kit away once more.

“Uhm, excuse me?” The two turn to the sound of a high-pitched voice from the side. It’s in Japanese, though. Both women share a look with one another, silently asking each other the same question. Do you speak?  

“Ah, I—uhh, sorry,” Jiwoo stutters a bit tentatively in broken Japanese, not having practised much. 

“Oh, Korean?” the stranger asks, fluently switching.

“Um, yeah, Korean, sorry,” Yubin speaks up.

Jiwoo turns to get a proper look at her. It’s another woman, with striking blonde hair. Damn, why do so many blondes keep showing up on their front door? Their metaphorical front door, anyway. Not much of a door when their campsite is just a slightly sunken-in area of the sand. 

“Sorry, I was just wondering if you had some medicine? I saw you get that medicine kit,” the woman says to Jiwoo.

Yubin and Jiwoo look towards each other in confusion. How’d she know about that? Jiwoo thinks back. Wait, did Seoyeon tell her? 

“Ah, sorry, I just saw your friend here bring it in earlier, so I was just wondering.” Jiwoo shoots a look at Yubin, who has the decency to look a little contrite.

“If you don’t have any, it’s no problem. I was wondering if you had any amoxicillin? Antibiotics, I mean. Just a preventative measure, really. Or, like, even just acetaminophen? Ibuprofen, maybe?” the woman starts to trail off at the confused looks she gets from the two.

“Uh… What?”

“Ahh, maybe just antiseptics then? Ethanol, isopropyl? No? Honestly, I’ll take anything you can offer,” she says, more hesitantly.

“How do—How do you know what all that is?” Jiwoo asks. 

“Uhh… Well, I’m in pharmacy. Or, I mean, I did nursing for a bit, too,” she answers, mumbling the last part as she glances between the two carefully.

“Oh! Wait, you’ve been a nurse this entire time, and you haven’t said anything to anyone? I feel like a lot of people could’ve used your help,” Yubin wonders curiously. 

“Well, I’ve actually been helping this other woman, Kaede—she’s severely injured right now. But ah, I haven’t been able to help her much without the right stuff, and I haven’t seen anyone else with a med kit so…” 

“Oh, well, I guess we can let you use some of it,” Jiwoo acquiesces, “But we’ll come with you to wherever she’s resting to have a look, too.”

Yubin looks to Jiwoo, confused. “We will?”

“Yeah, we will,” she says, before turning to the stranger. 

“Oh, yeah, that should be fine. I don’t think they’d mind,” the woman thinks aloud.

“So what is your name, nurse?”

“Uhm, Mayu. Also, I’m… not really a nurse.” 

“Alrighty, Nurse Mayu!” Yubin grins a little goofily.

Jiwoo cracks a smile, before continuing. “I’m Jiwoo, and this one here’s Yubin. Right, well, if you let us pack a bit, we’ll grab the kit and follow you to where you’re staying?” 

“Okay, will do.” Mayu moves away, giving the two space to talk and pack. 

Yubin faces Jiwoo, tilting her head. “Uhh, so, why are we following this random woman back to her camp?” 

“Well, you heard her, she’s a nurse,” Jiwoo moves to gather their things as they speak, “And it would be useful to have someone who knows what they’re doing. I barely understood what she was talking about, other than the antiseptics and ibuprofen, really.” 

“Okaaaay, but like, why are we entirely relocating then?” 

Jiwoo stops moving to look at Yubin, “Honestly? Everyone seems to be gathering into little groups already.” She looks out to the rest of the beach, where people in packs of four to seven appear to be working together, then gestures to the bandaged wound on the other woman’s arm. “Might help to have a few allies of our own.”

“Oh,” Yubin breathes out as Jiwoo picks up the metal bat, nodding grimly before starting to pack alongside her. 

Walking past the groups on the beach, Yubin gets a closer look at what they’d all been doing since the initial crash. She’d spent a lot of time travelling from the wreckage to their makeshift camp, but between hiding secret med kits and getting stabbed (possibly on purpose by random vengeant men), she hasn’t exactly taken the time to really have a look around at what the others were doing. 

Most look like they’re either resting under shade, either healing from their earlier injuries or trying to escape the scalding heat. A fair amount are still moving around, picking things up off the beach, and a group has just come back from picking fruits they’ve managed to find in the jungle. In the distance, Yubin thinks she sees that a group has decided to write an ‘SOS’ sign made of rocks in the sand. Some of the others also seem to be organising or coming back from the wreckage, too. 

She halts to a stop, almost hitting Jiwoo and Mayu in front of her, who have also stopped walking. Mayu crouches down, and Yubin steps to the side to peer at the others in their group. The two other people there are both women, who also seem to be around their age. 

The first is the injured one— Kaede, her brain supplies helpfully—who’s lying on some of the clothes they’ve laid down in the sand. She appears to be sleeping, which is fair given the number of lacerations covering her limbs and the scar on her ribs that’s visible from a tear in her shirt. Yubin thinks she’s lucky, in a way, that she didn’t get injured so badly herself during the initial crash. Well, if you could consider anything about their situation lucky. 

Another woman sits nearby, knees up to her chest as she pets—wait, is that a dog? 

The harnessed retriever walks up to both her and Jiwoo, sniffing thoughtfully at them, though cautious. 

“So… who are these?” the yet-to-be-named woman asks Mayu, who looks up from the med kit. 

“Ah, right. That’s Jiwoo in the jersey there,” Mayu points her out, nodding her head in Jiwoo’s direction, “and the one in the pink sweater’s Yubin. They’re the ones I got these from.” She holds the alcohol bottle up and swabs. She turns to the two new members of their group, “and, well, this is Shion. And obviously, I’ve already mentioned Kaede.”

The dog sniffs at Yubin’s hand carefully. “And who’s this?” she says, smiling at the large animal. 

“We’re… not really sure. There seems to be a collar, but the tag’s gone, I think. Must have gotten lost during the crash.” A soft-spoken, yet high-pitched voice speaks up, Yubin turning to see Shion. “He’s very well behaved, but uh, I don’t know, very reserved? If that’s the way to describe it.”

“Right, right. Maybe it’s got to do with the harness, you know? I mean, the poor thing’s probably been wearing it for almost a day now,” Yubin looks at the dog pitifully. 

Shion purses her lips in thought. “That’s true, I suppose. I guess we were just waiting to see if any of the survivors would recognise him, but none of them seem to have. The owner could have…” she trails off. “Anyway, they could still be looking for it after we get rescued, so I’d leave it, for now.” 

Mayu beckons over to Jiwoo as the other two converse, so she shifts a little closer, squatting down. “Could you hold this for me?” she asks the taller woman. She hands her a bottle, before continuing to dab around the wounds on Kaede’s body. 

“What happened to her?” 

Mayu looks up at her, before swallowing. “The crash did.”

“No, not that,” Jiwoo shakes her head. “That scar near her ribs… it’s not a fresh wound. It’s gotta have been there for, like, at least a few months.” Mayu raises a brow at her. “I mean, I’ve had my fair share of scraps, you know.” 

“I’m not sure, really. I only just met her on the beach,” the blonde continues to wipe down some of the injuries, before wrapping them in gauze and bandages. 

“You spent the entire day taking care of a stranger? Who you’ve… barely even spoken to?” 

Mayu stops entirely, lowering her hands, then looking Jiwoo in the eye. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.” 

She pauses, then, “You only just met Yubin from the beach, didn’t you?” Jiwoo hesitates, before nodding in response.

“Wouldn’t you do the same thing for her?” 

Jiwoo looks over to the other woman, who’s laughing as the dog backs away from Shion’s touch, clearly having had enough of the attention. 

“Yeah,” Jiwoo breathes out. “I-I guess I might.” 

Mayu hums a little at her words but says nothing more, letting Jiwoo stew in her thoughts.

The dog turns its head, before bounding off. Other than Mayu, who’s still busy tending to the unconscious Kaede, the group watches as it runs, stopping a few metres away at a nearby camp of five people that had already managed to start a fire. It wags its tail, nosing at a young woman. 

“Huh,” Yubin muses. “Guess it must’ve found its owner.”

“Oh my god, cute dog!” Jiyeon hears Chaewon’s voice as she startles, the furry face coming to nose at her hand. 

“Whoa, it really likes you,” Seoah observes as it wags its tail wildly, pressing further into Jiyeon’s body. “Is it yours?” 

“Ah, no. I’ve never owned any pets before,” Jiyeon says, hesitating before softly patting its head. 

Chaewon beckons it over. “Come here, pup!”

From across the campfire, Hayeon snorts, “Nah, it hates your ass, forget it.”  

“Hey! Rude.” 

Hayeon suddenly hisses, shooting a glare at Sullin, who’s fixing the cloth around her leg injury a little too tight. 

“Deserved, honestly,” Seoah laughs, the ghost of a smile dancing on Sullin’s lips. 

“Well, it does look a little familiar,” Jiyeon considers, as the dog lies down next to her leg. “Looks kinda like a guide dog, actually.” 

“A guide dog? Like, for the blind people? Wait—how do you know?” asks Seoah, curiously. 

“Oh, well,” Jiyeon points out, “I mean, it’s got this yellow vest that’s only really used by guide dogs. Look, you can even see some of the letters for ‘guide dog’ written on the side.” The girls pause, peering over to see the fading letters, some of the characters having come off entirely. “Plus, it’s a labrador, which is a pretty common breed for them.”

Chaewon tilts a head at her. “How do you know all that though?” 

Jiyeon pauses, before chuckling a bit. “Ah… Well, I-I don’t know, I guess I saw it in a movie? Or maybe a show somewhere, you know.” The group nods, and she continues. 

“It is weird though. Normally there’d be a harness for more information, or even a tag to get names and emergency contact numbers.” 

“Not that it would even matter,” Seoah grumbles. “It’s not like our phones work anyway, even with data roaming.” 

“Which is kinda dumb,” Chaewon thinks, looking to the sky, “It’s not like we can be that far from the mainlands of either country. But I think she meant for when we get rescued, you know. So even if the owner’s… you know, we still have someone we can return the dog to, right?” 

Seoah nods agreeably, “Yeah, but, it’d be nice if we knew the dog’s name, huh? At least ‘cause it seems to like Jiyeon so much.” 

“I know,” Hayeon perks up, sitting up from where she’d been resting as Sullin pokes at the fire, adding more sticks to it. “We should name it ‘Noisy’! You know, after the two of you,” she snarks. 

The two make noises of protest, before laughing suddenly as Sullin pokes near Hayeon’s wound with the smoky-fire-stick. 

“Agh! Aw, what the hell Sullin, you’re gonna set me on fire!” There’s hardly even any charcoal residue left from where she poked her. 

“Deserved,” the pair laughs, fistbumping. Sullin simply pffts with a grin, continuing to poke at the campfire.

“Should be counting your blessings that Sullin knows how to start a fire, anyways.” 

Jiyeon looks around at the kids, a small smile resting on her lips as they continue to bicker. She shifts her gaze out onto the waves crashing against the shore, their laughter echoing in her ears as the sky changes to a vibrant sunset orange—a telltale sign of the night soon to fall.

Soomin fiddled with the zipper of the carry-on bag in her lap, looking up at the aeroplane’s ceiling. She’d flown once before, but only as a young child, and even then the memory was but a faint haze in her mind now. At the very least, she’s glad she got an aisle seat, and not one next to the window. She didn’t think she could handle seeing the cities below getting smaller and smaller as they lifted off. Swallowing down her nerves, she took her phone from her bag and opened her email, reading over the one that had been sent to her three weeks prior.

She had been lucky that her caretakers primarily spoke to her in Korean when at home; she thought that she probably wouldn’t be able to remember the language at all, if she only had what little she remembered from her youth. Home, the word resonates in her mind. Well, it’s not really home anymore.

The words on the email embedded themselves into her head as she continued to read them, burning into her retinas as she read over the instructions over and over again to distract herself from the queasiness she felt from the flight.

Her eyes quickly darted to the keychain dangling from her bag. The Cinnamoroll stared back up at her, face derpy and a little emotionless. Its lopsided ear swayed slightly as the plane continued on its path.

After a moment of deliberation, she looked to the passengers on her left and right. Both were asleep, knocked out cold. How they managed to be asleep an hour into the two-and-a-half hour flight was beyond her. She couldn’t even calm down enough to breathe easily without distracting herself.

Double-checking the two passengers at her sides, Soomin sighed to herself before grabbing the lopsided ear of her keychain, zipping it down. From inside, she took out a small plastic bag, quickly pouring two of the small circular white pills into her hand. Without hesitation, she dry-swallowed the two, stuffing the small bag back into her keychain and zipping it up again. 

The Cinnamoroll continued to stare at her, eyes lifeless and empty.

Sighing to herself once more, she quickly stood up, scooting over past the passenger on her right to place her backpack in the overhead compartment, then shuffling to sit back down.

She reclined her head back against the head-rest, before she was hit with a prickling feeling, like she was being watched. Turning to her left, her eyes widened when she saw a woman sitting two seats away, doe-eyed and staring at her, curious and questioning. Soomin admitted that her confused look was a little cute, if she ignored the fact that the woman probably just saw that whole ordeal.

“Oh, uhhh…” Soomin trailed off, looking for a way to explain herself. Maybe the woman hadn’t seen her take it out of the keychain? “This headache’s really killing me, you know? You know, flights are… they’re really—they really get those headaches going, haha.” 

The woman continued to stare at her, face questioning, but not directly meeting her gaze either. She seemed a little preoccupied with the bottom half of Soomin’s face, or maybe her neck? Weird. Oh no, what if she’d just pissed off a vampire? 

“Aha, uhh… It’s going away now. Really—Really glad for those painkillers, those things. Real… good.” Soomin stuttered, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of the woman’s stare.

She didn’t have to wait for long, though. A person rushing by in the aisle pushed past the woman, who shifted her eyes to focus on them, instead. A second person followed not long after, with the seated woman turning to glare at them. There’s some profuse—or, confused? Confused apologies spilled from the second stranger’s mouth, although the woman sitting in the aisle seat still didn’t speak. 

Not that it was Soomin’s business. She’s just glad she didn’t have to deal with the woman’s scrutiny anymore.

As the sun tucks itself a little further into the horizon, Seoyeon and Dahyun huddle around the fire they’d made for themselves, quietly casting a few glances over the injured woman. Seoyeon was lucky that Dahyun had managed to make a fire somehow; a lot of the other groups seemed to be struggling, and many had looked too prideful to ask others for help. Even now, some still weren’t able to start one, furiously rubbing branches together in an attempt to create smoke. Seoyeon had shared their fire with those who had approached them earlier, though. When she’d asked Dahyun how she knew how to start one, the other woman had just laughed and mumbled something about ‘having accidentally started one too many fires in her life,’ whatever that meant. 

They hear a movement of clothes rustling between each other, and they turn to see the woman, wincing as she attempts to sit herself up.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on. Don’t sit up so quickly.” Seoyeon carefully holds onto the woman’s shoulder, urging her to lie back down. The woman refuses, so Seoyeon instead passes her a water bottle, “You’ve been seriously injured. You gotta take it easy.” 

“What happened? Where—Where am I?” 

“First things first, drink up.” The woman takes a sip of water, coughing as she does so. “Okay, just need to figure out if you have serious head trauma. Can you tell us your name? And what the last thing you remember is?”  

“I’m— My name is Nakyoung. I was… I was on a flight, right? Flight 458. There was turbulence, and then… nothing. I’m not sure what happened after that.” 

“It’s good you haven’t forgotten too much,” Seoyeon replies, “Well, Nakyoung, I’m Seoyeon, and this over here is Dahyun.” Dahyun gives a polite wave. “And, well… flight 458 crashed. We’re on a beach, but nobody really seems to have any idea where we are. Dahyun over here saved your life from the wreckage.” 

“I really didn’t do much,” Dahyun shakes her head. “Seoyeon was the one who stitched you up. I had to look away, too. Blood… makes me kinda queasy,” she squirms.

“Stitched me up? OH—Augh.” Wincing, Nakyoung leans her head further back down, dropping the bottle as she moves her leg back into place. 

“You lost a lot of blood, but you’re sort of lucky—The explosion earlier cauterised a lot of your wounds, somehow. There’s quite a few burn marks, but I don’t think they’ll be a major problem. You got a major cut from that wound on your leg earlier, but we managed to get a suturing kit, so you’ll be alright.”

“Ah, I see. Well, lucky is one way of putting it,” she says, glancing at the bandaged wound on her leg. “Lucky enough that you two were there to save me, I suppose.” She flashes them a smile. 

“Lucky that you met someone who could suture you up, you mean. God,” Dahyun shudders, the memory replaying in her mind.

Something flashes in Seoyeon’s memory, too. “Oh, right! Well… I know you probably don’t remember this, but… When we were tending to your wounds earlier, you mentioned something before you passed out.” Seoyeon spares a look to Dahyun, before continuing. “Something about a satellite phone?” 

Nakyoung hesitates slightly at the mention of it, but Seoyeon immediately catches the slight change in her facial expression. “Oh… That. Okay, look, there was a satellite phone on the plane, but… It must’ve gotten lost after we crashed. There’s hardly any way it would’ve survived the impact.”

“You’d be surprised,” Dahyun shrugs. “A lot of the wreckage actually seemed to survive. Well, from the tail-section, anyways. The front end…” 

The thought hits Seoyeon quite suddenly. She hadn’t even thought about that. What did happen to the front end? 

“It tore off during turbulence.” Dahyun completes her thought. 

“How—How does something like that even happen?” Seoyeon squints at her, confused. 

“Look, I’m not even sure, being honest. I consider it a miracle I was even still conscious to see it happen.” 

“You saw it happen? Like… the plane just, what? Tore clean in half?” Nakyoung perks up, suddenly more curious.

“Uhh…” Dahyun pauses, thinking back to the moment. “Not… clean? In half. I’m not entirely sure either, since I was sitting a bit farther back from where it broke.  But like… at a diagonal, I think? Honestly, I really don’t know. I was a few seconds out from blacking out myself, when it happened.”

“That’s… a bit insane,” mumbles Seoyeon, staring off to the wreckage.

“Anyway, like I was saying, there was a fair amount of the fuselage that landed with us. You can see it over there,” Dahyun flips her hair behind her shoulder, turning around to look at the remnants of the plane herself. “You can even see how there’s only one wing, actually. Or… half a wing. In any case, I reckon there’s a good chance that your satellite phone might still be in there, if you were sitting closer to the back end of the plane.” 

“Ah, well… People have been searching through the wreckage, actually. They started a few hours ago, now. It might’ve been found already, but it wasn’t in the shared resource pool, last I checked.” Seoyeon pauses. “But we might not even need it. Rescue’s probably already on its way, anyway.”

“It’s been almost a full day, and they haven’t found us yet,” Dahyun mutters, somewhat under her breath.

“Alright, well, when it fully gets dark, it’ll be much easier to see the fires, okay?” Seoyeon says, remaining optimistic. 

“We should probably still look for the satellite phone, though,” Nakyoung voices, still staring at the fuselage. “Just in case.” 

“We could go now, while there’s still at least some light out,” suggests Dahyun, shielding her eyes from the sight as she looks to the setting sun.

“Alright, let’s go then,” Nakyoung moves to stand up, grimacing as she starts to rest her weight on her foot.

“Hold—Hold on! You don’t think you should wait a bit? You know, for your leg to heal at least somewhat? We probably won’t even have to use it! Shouldn’t you rest?” stopping them, Seoyeon stands up herself, putting a hand in front of Nakyoung. 

Pushing her short blonde locks behind her, Nakyoung levels a stare at Seoyeon, before limping towards Dahyun. Good lord, this woman is stubborn. Dahyun stands up to help the woman balance herself. 

“Alright, alright. I’m coming with you guys, then,” Seoyeon acquiesces. “Here, use this crutch. I found it earlier when I went to find my bags from the wreckage—I couldn’t find the other one, though.” She passes it to Nakyoung. The other woman grumbles out a rejection, before taking it as Seoyeon shoves it into her arms. 

First deciding to ask around, the three make their way over to the centre of the group’s camp, Nakyoung leaning on Dahyun’s shoulder for support. 

“How do you know there’s a satellite phone, anyway?” 

“Hm?” Nakyoung hums, turning to face Dahyun. 

“The satellite phone. How do you know there was one? I mean… aren’t they really expensive?” 

Nakyoung pauses for a moment, eyes darting for a fraction of a second to Seoyeon—who’s also listening to their conversation—before flicking back to Dahyun. “I think… There was some kind of military officer on the plane. Or something—I don’t really know.”

“Military officer? What makes you say that?” 

“Well, the way she was dressed. On her belt, I’m pretty sure there was a satellite phone. She was sitting near me. I saw her stand up and start chasing someone, I think?” 

“Oh!” Seoyeon’s eyes widen. “You were on the left-side of the plane, huh? I saw that too!” 

“Wait… oh, I remember that too! Ah, I’m pretty sure both of those passengers bumped into me,” Dahyun thinks back, “I kind of scolded her too, I think…”

“That was you yelling back then?” Seoyeon asks. Dahyun looks at her a little sheepishly.

“Scolded the first woman, or the second?” Nakyoung cuts in.

“Oh, uh, the second.” 

“Did you see what happened to them after that?” she prods further.

“Ah, not really? I mean, I think they bumped into a few more people or something, but I don’t really know after that. I was… sort of more preoccupied with the turbulence. And dodging the flying luggage. And, you know, the plane tearing in half.” 

“...Right.” 

The trio keep walking.

“Oh, hey!” Seoyeon speeds up, waving her arm. She approaches a group of five women, tapping one on the shoulder. “Lee Jiwoo, right?” 

Jiwoo turns, looking up at the woman. “Oh, hey, Seoyeon.” Two of them sitting opposite her look up curiously, the other still lying down.

“Who’s this?” Mayu speaks up from beside Kaede’s figure, who’s conscious now, but still resting.

“Oh, guys, this is Seoyeon. Uhh… I guess these are her friends. I let her borrow some of the suturing stuff earlier.” At the reminder, Seoyeon hands the kit back, thanking her for the help.

A head peeks out from behind Jiwoo’s figure, staring at Seoyeon. “Hold on… you! You’re Window-Seat Woman!” 

Seoyeon laughs at Yubin’s smiling face, a little incredulously. “Huh, it’s my Aisle-Seat Stranger. Go figure.” 

“The what?” Shion looks between the two, confused as everyone. Kaede grumbles, moving to sit up at the ruckus.

“Ah, we met on the plane,” explains Seoyeon. 

Jiwoo turns to Yubin, “Just how many people did you meet on that plane? Did you hold a damn book club meeting up there or something?” 

“Excuse me. It was just those two, really. Besides, I’d never do that. I don’t even like reading books.” 

“Evidently,” Jiwoo scoffs. Yubin smacks her. 

“That aside,” Seoyeon continues after a pause, “this is Dahyun, and Nakyoung, the woman I’d mentioned earlier?” 

“Ah, right,” Jiwoo remembers. “The one you talked about—something about getting rescued?” 

“Rescued?” Mayu perks up. 

Seoyeon looks to Nakyoung, at Dahyun, then back to Nakyoung again, who looks back, but doesn’t make any sign or gesture. “Right, well… according to Nakyoung over here, there was a satellite phone on the plane. You didn’t happen to find one on any of your fuselage runs, did you?” 

Yubin squints at her. “What’s a satellite phone?” 

Shion scrunches up her face at her, before looking at Seoyeon. “No, we haven’t seen one. It’s not in the shared pile, either.”

“Huh,” Dahyun breathes out. “Guess we’re going to have to check the wreckage.” 

“Alright, let’s get moving then,” Nakyoung starts to move in the direction of the wreck, arm wrapped around Dahyun, dragging her with her. 

“Whoa, hoooold on,” Mayu says, stepping in. “You’re injured?” 

Nakyoung turns around slightly, resting her weight on the crutch. “Oh, thanks for that. I hadn’t noticed.” 

“Someone’s prickly,” Jiwoo sniffs.

“Says you,” Yubin mumbles. Before the two can start bickering again, Mayu speaks up.

“You cannot be thinking of going to the plane now. It’s almost dark, and you’re practically hobbling. Plus, you’ve only got one crutch! Wh-Where’s the other?” 

“Only found one earlier,” Seoyeon replies. Yubin swallows down a laugh, letting them continue.

“Look, I’m only hobbling because of the crutch.” Nakyoung stares down at it. “I don’t even need this… glorified stick, anyways,” she huffs, dropping it. Her weight sinks a little further into Dahyun.

“Stubborn…” 

“She’s been like that since earlier,” Seoyeon mumbles to Shion.

“I’ll take your glorified stick off you. Quite a big fan of those, really,” Kaede says, fully awake now and reaching for the crutch. 

“Are you sure you shouldn’t rest?” Dahyun says, clearly struggling to keep Nakyoung up. 

The blonde squints at her, before letting go of her shoulder. She starts to trudge over to the direction of the wreck.

“Alright, hold your horses.” Dahyun reaches for her wrist. “Maybe we should try the other groups first? Just to check?” 

“I’d suggest the group of guys over there,” Yubin nods over to another group, “but they’re kind of assholes, so maybe not.” 

“Okay, not entirely true. Hanbin seems like a decent guy, and it looks like he’s the one leading them,” Jiwoo cuts in. 

Wordlessly, Nakyoung pivots to start walking in their direction. 

“Alright, can we just relax?” Shion speaks up. Dahyun tugs on Nakyoung’s wrist again. “Look, you can go off on your little fuselage excursion later, but you could at least rest for a minute. Mayu’s our nurse, so she can look at the dressing on your wound a bit. If the others don’t know where your phone-thing is, then you should go, alright?” 

“Not a nurse,” Mayu mumbles. “But yeah, I could look at your injury. It looks pretty bad. No offence,” she looks to Seoyeon and Dahyun.

Nakyoung sighs, before finally giving up, moving to sit next to Shion. “Alright, but only until you finish speaking to them,” she says to Seoyeon, who nods.

“Yeah, alright. You coming with?” 

“Nah, I’m kinda tired, honestly,” Dahyun responds, sitting down next to Kaede. “I’ll come if you head over to the fuselage, though.” 

“I’d go with you, but I… think they kinda hate me,” Yubin says to Seoyeon, rubbing her nape.

“I’ll go,” Jiwoo stands up. “They know me already, anyway.”  

The two come back after a few minutes, empty-handed, Seoyeon looking towards Nakyoung and Dahyun. 

“They say they don’t have it.” 

“Did they sound like they were lying?” Yubin narrows her eyes.

“Wh—No?” 

“Point is it’s not there,” Nakyoung says, standing. Dahyun sighs, standing up herself.

“You coming, Yubin?” 

“Nah,” she gestures to her wounded arm, before looking up at Nakyoung, then back to Jiwoo. “Nurse’s orders. Not climbing anywhere onto the fuselage like this.” 

“C’mon, I’ll lead you guys there,” the trio wait as Jiwoo moves to grab a backpack and her metal bat.

“What’s the bat for?” Dahyun asks cautiously.

“Baseball,” Jiwoo deadpans, before grinning. “Nah, just… you never know, right?” 

Twilight hour is almost completely over by the time the four return to the main beach. Somehow—maybe from pure obstinacy, Seoyeon thinks—Nakyoung hadn’t gotten injured further, or even slowed them down much at all. It wasn’t a complete waste of time; they’d managed to find a flashlight, a pack of batteries, and Jiwoo had found her yellow wired earphones, decorated with little bear faces on each side. Not that she can use them—she’s pretty sure her phone’s dead, but she stuffed them in her pocket for safe keeping anyways, holding memories of a happier time. 

While the four walk back to the rest of the group, Nakyoung shoulder checks a taller guy by accident, having tripped over a rock in the sand. “Hey, watch it!” 

“Alright, relax. It was just an accident, dude,” Jiwoo steps in. 

“Oh,” the guy sneers. “You.” Jiwoo looks at him, confused. She doesn’t recognise him.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Seoyeon says to the man. “C’mon, let’s keep it moving, guys.” He turns around, clearly heading back for his own group. 

“Hey, wait!” Nakyoung reaches for something sticking out of the man’s bag. The guy sidesteps her, and she’s left flailing. “It’s the satellite phone!” 

“What?”

The man heaves at a sigh at them, before turning around. 

“Wh—I thought you said you didn’t have it!” Seoyeon says. 

“I didn’t say anything. Hanbin did,” the man responds. 

“Y-You knew what we meant! And you clearly heard us.” 

“Well, sorry. I didn’t realise we had to declare everything we have around here to the entire damn beach. Do you want a written list?”

“ALRIGHT, what is going on here?” Hanbin has stepped up now, a few of the other men from their group walking towards them. From their camp, Seoyeon can see Shion and Yubin have stood up and begun approaching them, too.

Jiwoo turns to him. “You lied, is what happened.”

“I do not lie. About what, even?” 

“The satellite phone. Your buddy over here has it.” 

“Ricky, what are they talking about?” 

Ricky shuffles around under Hanbin’s gaze. “Okay, even if I do? So what? It’s not like they’ve been sharing everything with us, either. Didn’t see the med kit in the shared pile.” 

“Med kit?” 

“What med kit?” Dahyun asks.

Ricky locks a glare onto her, before gesturing to Nakyoung’s leg, now covered in gauze from her stop with Mayu earlier. Seoyeon mentally facepalms a bit. 

“Well, alright. But that’s a different discussion—I asked you if you had it, and you said you didn’t,” Hanbin says, look still trained on Ricky. 

“Damn, well, I didn’t know we all had to report to you. Besides,” Ricky locks a stare with Yubin, who’s now standing next to Dahyun, “they’ve already hurt one of us.” 

“One of us?” Seoyeon repeats, looking out at the small crowd that’s starting to gather. “One of us?”

She stands a little straighter, stepping into the growing tension between the group. 

“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s get one thing damn straight here, there is no ‘us’ and there is no ‘them’ here. We’re all stuck on this stupid island together, which means it’s all hands on deck—we’re all in the same boat. 

“If we keep all these secrets about things like this,” she pauses. “We’re going to end up killing each other before rescue even comes.” 

Despite her stature, even the men duck their heads a little apologetically, nervous at her tone. 

“Which should be soon, anyways. Look, we haven’t even made it past the first night. I don’t know why we’re all hoarding things when we should be working together,” she says, glancing at Jiwoo briefly. 

There’s a moment of silence, but not a beat too long.

“Well, you heard the woman,” a man speaks up from behind Hanbin and Ricky, who casts a glare at him. “Oh, come on Ricky. You were just telling Gyuvin and Yujin earlier—you don’t know how to even use the thing, anyway.” 

“Shut up, Gunwook.” Yujin elbows him, and the two start to go at it until Hanbin glares at both of them. 

Ricky’s eyes dart around at the group that’s gathered, then rolls his eyes, shrugging the backpack off his back. He throws the device that had been sticking out in Seoyeon’s direction, who catches it. 

“This—It’s not even a satellite phone? This is just a handheld radio?” Dahyun says, staring at the device in Seoyeon’s hands, quizzically. 

 “You can’t tell the difference between a satellite phone and a radio?” Nakyoung looks to the men.

“Whatever,” Ricky grumbles. “Who the hell knows what a satellite phone even is, anyway?” 

“It’s not like it matters anyway; it’s broken,” Jiwoo says, staring at it. “It won’t turn on.” 

“So I’m not an idiot,” Ricky mutters at Gunwook. “Shit doesn’t even work.”

“I could fix it. If I had the time, and the resources.” Dahyun pipes up. Both sides of the crowd turn to her. 

“How?” one of the men asks, sceptical. 

“I’m a mechanical engineer.” 

“Convenient,” Yujin grumbles.

Hanbin whacks his shoulder. “Should be thankful we have an engineer.” He turns to Dahyun. “How much time do you think you’d need?”

Dahyun looks up to the sky, the sun having fully set now. There’s only the dim glow of the moonlight, and the burning fires around them to light their faces now. 

“Given I haven’t slept yet… I could probably have it done by the end of tomorrow morning.” 

“What would you need?” 

“Anything electronic that you could salvage from the wreck. Something to use as a screwdriver—or, anything really, that could be used for tools. Wiring, anything like that. We don’t exactly have soldering irons here, but I can make do.” 

“We’ll give you what we can,” Hanbin nods. 

“Once I finish, though, we’ll probably have to travel to higher ground in the morning. I need a clear line of sight, if we want to intercept any radio waves.” 

“We can assemble a team for tomorrow morning,” Seoyeon suggests. “Everyone included.” She looks at the crowd, still clearly divided into two sides. Neither seem to match each other’s gazes.

“Alright, here’s how we’ll do it. Gunwook and I can join in with some of you guys,” Hanbin says to Seoyeon and Jiwoo.

“Okay… Jiwoo and Dahyun will come with me, too.” Nakyoung levels a stare at her. “... And Nakyoung.” 

“That seems a little unfair. How come you guys get four people?” Gyuvin protests.

“Because I know how to use and fix the radio, too. So in case something goes wrong, we have the other as backup,” Nakyoung says. Seoyeon glances at her, but the other woman's face remains motionless. The man backs off. 

“Alright, alright,” Hanbin responds. “The six of us, here. Tomorrow, before noon. We can climb up… that mountain?” He points to a jagged mountain plateauing at its peak in the distance that overlooks their beach, probably a few kilometers out through the jungle. 

The central crowd nods, dispersing into their smaller groups, before heading back to their respective campfires. 

Yubin sidles up next to Nakyoung, as they make their way back to the fire, where Shion, Mayu and Kaede are waiting. “So… do you actually know how to help Dahyun?”

“What?”

“Can you actually help her fix the radio?”

“Yes? I… studied electronics for a bit in high school.”

“Oh. I thought you were just saying that because you wanted to join in on their little trip.”

Nakyoung gives her a small grin. “Well, yeah. That too.” 

They walk a few steps, before Nakyoung’s speaking up again. “So… care to explain what all that was about?”

“What all what, was about?”

“That whole… scene. Why was it so tense between us and those guys?” 

“Ah,” Yubin nods, understanding. “You must not have been awake for that. You see those teenagers over there?” She stops and looks around, then points over to Hyerin who’s sitting beside a loud Soomin, chatting away with some other girls nearby that look around their age. A dog sits beside them, panting beside the fire. 

“They got into a fight earlier with some of the younger men in the fuselage. Something about stealing luggage.”

Nakyoung crinkles her nose, looking between all the teenagers—both the ones with the men, and those next to the dog.

“It was a little crazy. Jiwoo, Hanbin and I handled it, but. I don’t know, it feels like there’s been bad blood since, or something.”

Yubin shuffles as they both look out to the younger survivors. “It does suck though. I mean, look at them. They’re just kids. It’s a little insane that they have to go through something like this.” 

Nakyoung hums in agreement. “I’m sure it’s fine, though. Rescue is probably coming soon, anyway.” 

“Do you really believe that?” Nakyoung turns her face to look at Yubin, who’s already staring at her. “If you do, why are you repairing the radio, then?”

Nakyoung pauses briefly, looking into Yubin’s eyes. “To get us there faster.” 

Before Yubin can respond, she gets cut off. All around the camp, there’s a resounding rumble, an inhuman growl echoing from deep within the jungle, followed by a feral screech. It reverberates outwards, almost shaking the ground beneath them as the sound travels outward and around the beach. It echoes deeply in their ears, even when the sound waves have long since stopped. 

It’s like the entire camp stops moving all at once, paralysed. All the quiet conversations around the camp hush at once; every moving person stops in their tracks, only turning to look in the direction of the jungle. Even the howl of the ocean breeze and the crackling of all the campfires around them seem to still.

Yubin turns to Nakyoung, eyes wide. “What in the flying fuck was that?”

Dahyun gets shaken awake, a soft hand gripping her bare arm. Disoriented, she rolls around a bit, before feeling the cloth and sand beneath her legs as she starts to rub her eyes groggily. Right, she'd spent hours working late into the night with Nakyoung, trying to get the radio to work once more. The minute they’d managed to finally get the device to turn on, the two had passed out in exhaustion. Thankfully she still feels the weight of the radio in her pocket. She can feel the sunlight hitting her, even from behind her eyelids, and she hopes she hadn't slept through their meeting time.

“Hey, hey. Dahyun, are you awake?”

It’s Kaede’s voice, still soft, but tinged with… something Dahyun can't quite place yet. 

Dahyun opens her eyes fully, coming face to face with Kaede’s. Dahyun stares at her. Chin, mouth, cheekbones, before she meets the other's gaze, looking directly into her eyes. 

Oh, that's what that something is. Urgency. 

“S-Some of the other survivors on the beach. Last night… they disappeared.”