Antifragile

The island was alive with the frantic rustling of leaves and the distant crashing of waves, but for Sakura, everything felt eerily silent. She moved swiftly, her senses heightened as they ventured deeper into the dense forest. The forest was their last refuge—yet even that felt suffocating now. The weight of Eunchae’s death was still raw, and as they fled from one threat to the next, Sakura couldn’t shake the feeling that their time was running out.

“Stay alert,” Eunbi’s voice was low, but her authority cut through the tense air. She was the leader, and in times like this, her strength was the only thing keeping them together. “We don’t know how many they’ve sent.”

Sakura gave a small nod, her hand gripping the hilt of her blade. But it didn’t bring the same comfort it once had. Her mind was a blur of images—Eunchae’s face, her body growing cold in Sakura’s arms, her screams echoing in her ears. The thought of fighting, of killing again, was starting to feel hollow. But it was the only thing they could do.

They had no choice.

“We should’ve gone south,” Yuri muttered, her voice tight with frustration. She had been quiet for the last few hours, her gaze never settling on anything for too long. “We should’ve tried to cross the sea instead of staying here.”

Eunbi shook her head, but her expression softened. “It’s too late for regrets. We have to keep moving.”

The group had made their way to the southern edge of the island, where the cliffs loomed high above them. The wind howled through the trees, and the salty scent of the ocean filled the air. But something felt wrong. It wasn’t just the imminent danger. The sense of being hunted, trapped on all sides, gnawed at them.

Sakura’s gaze flickered toward Chaewon, who walked just a little too close for comfort, as if they were tethered by something neither of them dared to acknowledge. They had always been close, their bond unspoken but understood. But with each passing moment, Sakura could feel that bond fraying at the edges.

Suddenly, a sharp cry cut through the air—a sound too distinct to ignore.

“Ambush!” Yena’s voice rang out.

Before anyone could react, the sound of footfalls from all sides surrounded them. They had been found. The dreaded Yakuza—still loyal to Purple Kiss—had closed in, and it was too late to escape.

Sakura’s hand shot to her blade, her body immediately going into defense mode. Chaewon was already by her side, pulling out a jagged piece of metal from the wreckage of a nearby ship. It was rusted and old, but it would have to do.

“Stay close,” Chaewon whispered, her voice low. “We fight our way through.”

Sakura nodded, and together, they fell into position. The others were already moving—Yuri, Kazuha, and Yena—but the latter’s movements were stiff. Yena’s body had never fully healed from the wound to her chest. Her breathing was shallow, and her face was pale, like she was on the edge of collapse. But Yena’s resolve was ironclad, and she refused to show weakness.

“We’ll be okay,” Yena said through gritted teeth, trying to steady herself. “We have to be.”

But even as Yena spoke, the dark shadows of Purple Kiss emerged from the trees, their forms sharp and menacing. At the forefront of the group was Goeun, her eyes glinting with cold calculation. Behind her were the rest of her members—Dosie, Ireh, Yuki, Chaein, and Swan—all poised and ready for the kill.

The tension was palpable, like the moment before a storm broke.

“I knew you’d come crawling back,” Goeun said with a mocking smile. “You should’ve stayed hidden, little rats.”

Sakura’s hand tightened around her weapon, her pulse quickening. She didn’t care about Goeun’s taunts. She just wanted them dead. All of them.

Yuki stepped forward, her sword drawn. Her eyes scanned the group, lingering on Yena with a touch of disdain.

“The wounded first,” Yuki said coldly. “They’re always the easiest to kill.”

“Shut up!” Yena barked, her voice laced with pain but full of fury. “You’ll regret saying that.”

Before anyone could react, the first clash of steel met the air. It was chaotic—swords slashing, weapons clashing. Yuri was the first to move, her body a blur as she launched herself into the fray, but without her sword, she was at a disadvantage. She picked up a broken branch, holding it like a spear, using it to defend herself and strike with precision.

But they were outnumbered.

Chaewon and Sakura fought back to back, their movements fluid and in sync, but the Yakuza and Purple Kiss were relentless. Goeun’s cold eyes locked onto Sakura, and she could see the malicious intent behind her smile.

“Last time we met, you got away. This time, you won’t,” Goeun said, her voice like venom.

Sakura didn’t respond. She didn’t have the time. With a swift movement, she parried a strike from Ireh, their blades locking. The sound of metal screeching against metal rang out as Ireh twisted her sword, forcing Sakura to step back. But it wasn’t fast enough.

Sakura’s vision blurred as a sharp pain shot through her side. She had barely registered the strike before her body reacted, instinctively ducking to the side. But it wasn’t enough. Blood dripped from the shallow cut along her ribs, and for a moment, she was dizzy. She steadied herself, trying to regain focus, but the world around her was spinning.

“Move!” Chaewon’s voice sliced through the haze, pulling Sakura back into the fight.

Yena was already back on her feet, her face pale, sweat slicked on her forehead. She was struggling to breathe, her hand pressed over the spot where she had been shot months ago. The wound hadn’t healed properly. The effort to move was costing her everything, but she was fighting like a woman possessed.

“We have to push them back!” Yena shouted, but her voice was weak, strained.

Yuri, standing to her side, offered a quick nod, his face hard with determination. The couple, side by side, fought as though their lives depended on it—because, in this moment, they did.

But the pain was taking its toll on Yena, and as she swung her weapon at Dosie, her breath caught in her chest. She stumbled, her vision blurring. Her body was giving out.

“Yena!” Yuri shouted, reaching for her, but it was too late. Dosie’s sword found its mark.

The blade cut through the air with horrifying precision, sinking deep into Yena’s side, right where her wound had never fully healed. She gasped, her body crumpling forward as her knees gave way beneath her.

“Yena!” Yuri cried out, her voice breaking as she rushed to her side.

But in that moment, she was too distracted.

Chaein, who had been lurking in the shadows, struck swiftly, her blade piercing Yuri’s chest before she could reach Yena.

Sakura’s breath caught in her throat.

“No!” she screamed, her voice hoarse with desperation.

Yena’s eyes fluttered closed, and her last breath was a soft sigh. Yuri crumpled beside her, her hand reaching for Yena’s as life drained from her body. The sight of them—together even in death—was more than Sakura could bear.

Yena and Yuri had been fighters, survivors. And now they were gone.

Sakura’s mind screamed, her body filled with an overwhelming rush of anger, grief, and helplessness. She lashed out, her blade cutting through the air with deadly precision, but it didn’t matter. The battle was lost.

Eunbi was already ordering the retreat, but it didn’t matter. Even if they ran, even if they escaped—this loss would follow them.

But Sakura wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

“We’ll avenge them,” Chaewon said, her voice full of determination, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She reached for Sakura’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “We have to survive. We have to.”

Sakura nodded, her grip on her sword tightening. There was no time for weakness. They still had a fight to finish. For Yena. For Yuri. For the ones they had lost.

With one last glance at their fallen comrades, they turned and ran—away from the bloodied battlefield, away from the grief that had overwhelmed them. But even as they fled, Sakura knew that nothing would ever be the same again. The storm had only just begun.