Momo
The boat still drifted, carried aimlessly by the current. The soft creak of wood and the distant crash of waves against rocks filled the heavy silence. Momo gripped the railing, her fingers digging into the rusted metal, cold and unyielding against her skin.
The island was shrinking in the distance, fading into a blurry smudge of green and brown on the horizon. Every inch of distance felt like a thread snapping, one by one, until nothing tethered them to solid ground anymore. Her stomach turned with the idea of it—of knowing that soon, they’d have to swim.
Swim.
Her breath got caught in her throat, and her chest felt impossibly tight. She wasn’t good at swimming—barely passable, really. She could float, paddle around in a pool where the edges were close and safety was always within reach. But this... this was endless water, black and bottomless.
Her gaze turned downwards, past the peeling paint of the boat's edge and into the water. The surface was uneven, shifting and rolling like it was alive, hiding whatever waited below. Her mind flashing images—dark shapes circling beneath her feet, slimy tentacles brushing her legs, the pull of the current dragging her under until the sky disappeared entirely.
Momo’s hands trembled. She squeezed her eyes shut, her forehead pressing against her knuckles as she tried to breathe through her rising panic.
Stop. Stop it.
But the engine was dead. The boat had no fuel, no way to move except where the sea decided to carry them. And it was carrying them farther away.
They just had to swim there.
Momo stood at the railing, her fingers now curled so tightly around the wooden crate that they ached. To her sides, the others were lined up in silence, shoulder to shoulder, each girl gripping the railing, and whatever they’d managed to find. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved.
The island was right there. It was reachable. She should feel relieved—I should feel relieved.
We have somewhere to go now.
But all Momo could feel was the cold, sharp edge of fear digging into her chest, pressing down until it hurt to breathe.
She couldn’t help but look at the water. At how it looked almost gentle from this distance. But Momo knew better. The surface lied. Beneath that thin layer of glimmering blue, there was only weight—only pulling, dragging, swallowing.
Her breath hitched, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep the tears from spilling. Her body was trembling so badly that her knees felt weak, like they might give out at any moment.
To her left, Tzuyu clutched the straps of her life vest, her hands shaking, knuckles pale and bloodless. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her wide eyes locked on the water below. She wasn’t moving, wasn’t blinking—just staring, like she could will the ocean to become something less terrifying if she stayed still enough.
It was heartbreaking.
On Momo’s right, Mina stood stiff and silent. Her arms were wrapped around herself, her chin tucked low against her chest. Her gaze was fixed downward, but she wasn’t seeing the water—not really. Her eyes were distant, unfocused, staring somewhere far away. Somewhere inside her own mind.
They were all frozen in place, locked in their fear.
Momo squeezed her eyes shut, her forehead pressing against the crate she had to carry.
We have somewhere to go now, she told herself again, but the words felt hollow in her chest. We have somewhere to go. We have somewhere...
But she couldn’t finish the thought.
Her lungs felt too tight, her heart hammering so loud it drowned out the sound of the waves crashing against the side of theboat. Her mind kept skipping forward to the moment she’d have to let go—to the second her feet would leave the safety of the deck and she’d hit the water.
Cold and heavy.
Momo swallowed hard, her throat dry. Her eyes flicked sideways again—back to Tzuyu’s trembling hands, back to Mina’s distant expression.
A faint tremor passed through her shoulders, and she felt the familiar sting behind her eyes. Don’t cry, she begged herself. Don’t cry.
“Momo?” The voice was soft, careful
She turned her head slightly and found Nayeon looking at her. Nayeon’s eyes were steady, sharp with worry but gentle, too.
Momo tried to speak, but her throat closed up. Her lips wobbled, and the words caught somewhere behind her teeth.
“I... I can’t swim,” she whispered finally, her voice breaking as the confession tumbled out. “Not... not well enough. Not for this.”
Nayeon didn’t flinch. She didn’t look away.
Her voice was quiet but steady. “We have lfe vests. We’ll stay together. No one’s staying behind.”
Momo nodded, the motion barely there. Her fingers were still clutching now the railing and the crate, her knuckles still white.
“We’ll be okay,” Nayeon said, and though her voice trembled slightly, the words cut through the static in Momo’s head..
The island sat waiting on the horizon, solid but still moving—a promise that felt both too close yet impossibly far away.
Slowly, Momo let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. They would jump soon. The sea would be cold. Her body would ache. The weight of the water would pull at her clothes, her arms would grow tired, and her head would ache from holding herself afloat.
But the island was there.
And the others were here.
She wasn’t alone.
So the boat creaked as they climbed over the railing, their movements slow and deliberate, the rusted bar bit into her palms, her knuckles pale with how tightly she was holding on.
No one spoke.
She could see how Mina was climbing down shakily, her movements slow and clumsy, her eyes still far away. Her pale fingers clutched the metal, slipping slightly before Sana’s steady hand wrapped around her wrist.
“Slow,” Sana said. “Go slow, okay? I won’t let go.”
Mina didn’t respond, didn’t even look up, but her body followed Sana’s guidance all the same.
To her other side, Dahyun stood frozen for a heartbeat, her lips moving in a faint whisper. Momo couldn’t catch the words, but the rhythm of them felt familiar, practiced—a prayer, maybe, or something close to it.
The wind tugged at her damp hair, and it was harder to balance herself and the crate now. The others were all in place—lined up along the edge, silent, but struggling just the same.
Jihyo’s voice broke the silence, commanding despite the tremor in her breath.
“Okay,” she said. “On three. We go together. No one hesitates, no one stays behind. Just... hold your breath, and kick hard. We’ll make it.”
“One…”
The air felt thicker now, tighter, like it was pushing her down.
“Two…”
Her fingers twitched on the railing, every muscle in her body aching, ready to snap.
“Three.”
For the briefest moment, time stopped.
Momo let go of the railing. Her feet pushed off the boat, and her body tilted forward as she closed her eyes.
And then...
Cold.
The cold hit like a slap, sharp and immediate, stealing the breath from Momo’s lungs. The water closed around her like a heavy blanket against her arms, her legs. The life vest kept her afloat, but the weight of the crate she clung to made every kick feel sluggish, every movement a fight against the sea.
Her chest heaved as she broke the surface, gasping in salty air, her hair plastered against her face.
Around her, the others were scattered across the water, the bright colors of their outfits moving up and down with the waves. Jihyo and Sana were ahead, their faces pinched with effort as they dragged a heavy suitcase between them. Chaeyoung struggled with hers, her lips moving as if she was muttering curses under her breath.
But it was Tzuyu who caught Momo’s eye.
The youngest clung to a floating crate. Her face was pale, her eyes locked on the distance, unfocused. Her lips moving, though no sound came out, and every breath she took looked like it might be her last.
Momo’s stomach turned, icy in a way that had nothing to do with the water.
She had always noticed things about Tzuyu—the way her gaze sometimes darted away during loud conversations, the way her shoulders would go tight when plans changed suddenly, the little moments where she’d withdraw, quiet and lost in her own head. They were things the others either didn’t catch or simply brushed off. But Momo saw them. She felt them.
And right now, she could feel Tzuyu’s fear in her chest, sitting heavy like a stone.
Her own panic threatened to claw its way up her throat, but she swallowed it down, forcing her voice out, raw and trembling.
“Tzuyu!”
The girl’s head jerked up slightly, her wide eyes finding Momo’s across the icy water.
“You’re doing good,” Momo said. “Just... just keep holding on, okay? Don’t let go of the crate”
Tzuyu nodded, a quick, jerky motion, but her grip didn’t loosen.
The water pushed them again, a wave lifting them slightly before pulling them back down, water going inside her throat as she coughed and sputtered. She kicked harder, her legs already aching, every muscle burning from the effort.
The waves pushed them all apart slightly, and Momo kicked harder to stay close to the group. She couldn’t let herself drift too far—she couldn’t fall behind.
Jihyo’s voice cut across the water, “Stay together! Don’t spread out!”
Nayeon’s head snapped up briefly, her eyes darting between Mina, who was drifting nearby, and the rest of the group. She reached out, pulling Mina closer, speaking to her softly, trying to bring her back.
Momo turned back to Tzuyu, her heart twisting painfully at the sight of the younger girl’s trembling shoulders and the way her breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps.
She wanted to say something—to offer some kind of comfort or reassurance—but the words stuck in her throat. What was she supposed to say? That everything would be fine? That they’d all make it?
She couldn’t lie like that.
But still, her mind raced with thoughts—sharp and intrusive: If it comes down to it... if something happens...
Momo squeezed her eyes shut against the thought.
No. No one’s being left behind.
When she opened her eyes again, her gaze locked back on Tzuyu. Her voice was quieter this time, as she tried to control her fear.
“Just stay with me, okay? We’ll go slow, Tzuyu. Just...just stay close.”
Tzuyu blinked, her expression softening for just a moment, before another wave came crashing.
Behind them, Nayeon’s voice rang out. “Don’t stop, just keep moving!”
Momo glanced ahead—the island was closer now. Not close enough, but closer. She adjusted her grip on the crate, her body trembling with exhaustion and cold, and kicked forward again. It still felt impossible...the distance, the weight, the pull of the waves trying to drag them under. But Momo gritted her teeth, pushing her sore body to her limits.
There was silence for a while, everyone focused on the task at hand, struggling to keep afloat with how long they were swimming.
The island was finally within reach, the shape of it clearer now, no longer just a blur in the distance. But the relief was short-lived. Every stroke felt like dragging her body through cement, her arms and legs heavy, her breath labored as she forced herself to keep going. Saltwater burned her throat, and she could feel the sting of it in her nose, her eyes, each swallow making her choke.
Behind her, Nayeon had slowed, reaching back to take Mina’s hand. Momo’s heart twisted at the sight of Mina’s blank stare, her gaze vacant as if she were barely present. Nayeon’s voice was soft but urgent, guiding Mina forward, just keeping her moving.
“Come on, Mina... just a little more. You’re doing great,” Nayeon murmured, but exhaustion was consuming her too.
Chaeyoung was struggling too, her rhythm shifting as she began to sink more than swim. Her face twisted with frustration as she finally let go of the suitcase she was carrying—the weight that was dragging her down.
“Damn it!”
“Leave it, Chaeyoung,” Jeongyeon called out, her voice as steady as she could make it sound. “We’ve got enough.”
She saw Chaeyoung stop for a moment, her eyes glancing back at the suitcase as it began to sink under the waves. “Yeah... yeah, I know. Just... stupid thing was too heavy anyway.”
Momo forced herself to keep her eyes ahead, her breaths coming in shallow shaky gasps with how much she needed air to fill her lungs.
She was too focused, to into herself when a sudden cry of pain pierced the quiet.
“Ah!”
The girls all turned, alarm flashing in their eyes. Momo’s heart dropped as she saw Jihyo wincing, her hand gripping the suitcase handle tighter.
“Jihyo, what wrong?” Jeongyeon called out, worry etched in her face.
Jihyo shook her head, forcing a strained smile. “It’s... it’s nothing. The suitcase slipped a little, that’s all.”
But as they continued forward, the water around Jihyo darkened, a faint red swirling around her leg. She felt her eyes widen in fear, noticing how Sana panicked next to the girl.
“Jihyo... your knee,” Sana’s voice was low, almost a whisper.
Jihyo’s face tightened, the pain evident despite her attempt to hide it. “I’m fine... just... just keep going.”
But Momo could see the strain, could see the way her jaw was clenched, her movements slower, more deliberate.
She finally felt the sand beneath her feet, the water still up to her knees. Momo rushed over to Jihyo’s side, holding her arm, reaching out to steady her.
“Jihyo...” She nodded to Sana, silently asking the girl to help her on the other side. “Just... don’t move it.”
Jihyo opened her mouth to protest, but a fresh wave of pain crossed her face, silencing her. She nodded, giving in, her breaths coming in shallow, pained gasps as Momo and Sana each took an arm, helping her limp the rest of the way.
They finally made it to the shore, their feet sinking into the gritty, damp sand as they hauled Jihyo the last few steps. But Momo’s relief was short-lived. the moment Jihyo sat down, her knee came into full view—something Momo wasn’t prepared to see. The wound was worse than she’d realized—deep, jagged, and oozing blood. It looked bad. Really bad.
Jihyo tried to put on a brave face, her jaw set as she attempted to shift her leg, but even she couldn’t mask the wince of pain that twisted her features.
“This... this looks bad,” she said, her voice low, barely audible over the sound of the waves.
Sana knelt beside Jihyo, her expression tight with worry, her hands hovering uncertainly over the gash. “She’s bleeding a lot,” she said. “We need to do something... Now.”
The group was gathered around them, their faces drawn and pale. No one spoke, their fear hanging heavy in the air. The wind picked up, cold and sharp against damp clothes making her shiver.
Nayeon stepped forward, clutching a small bottle of vodka in her trembling hand. Momo had no idea where she’d found it—one of the crates, probably—but it was something. It was better than nothing.
“This is going to hurt,” Nayeon said, her voice flat but steady. Her fingers fumbling with theplastic as she unscrewed the cap.
Jihyo let out a shaky breath, looking at Nayeon in the eyes,her teeth digging into her bottom lip. “Do it.”
She didn’t look at the wound, didn’t look at the others. Her gaze moved to the sky then, her jaw tight, her body rigid with fear.
Sana knelt closer, her hand slipping into Jihyo’s. “It’ll be fast,” she said. “Just focus on me, okay?”
Jihyo nodded slowly, her breaths coming short and sharp.
Nayeon crouched down, getting closer to her wounds. Her movements were deliberate, her breathing quick but steady as she tilted the bottle over her knee.
“Okay,” Nayeon murmured, but Momo could sense how it was meant more to herself. “Okay.”
The first splash of vodka hit the skin and Jihyo’s body seized. A sharp, raw scream tore out of her throat, cutting through the air and echoing across the empty beach. Her head snapped back, her grip on Sana’s hand tightening until Sana’s fingers turned white.
Momo flinched, her stomach turning painfully as she forced herself to keep watching.
Dahyun, who´d been standing close by, clamped a hand over her mouth, her face turning pale. She turned away, gagging, and within moments, she was retching into the sand, unable to hold it in.
The vodka mixed with blood, or the blood mixed with vodka. She didn’t know.
Jihyo’s screams faded into gasps eventually, her chest heaving as her body continued trembling. Sana was murmuring something—soft, repetitive words meant to put her at ease—but Momo couldn’t hear them over the pounding in her ears.
At some point she tore her gaze away, her hands moving to the end of her shirt. The fabric was damp and clung to her skin, but she yanked it upward, tearing long strips with the little strength she had left.
Focus, she told herself. Just focus.
She pressed the fabric over the wound, wincing as fresh blood stained across the pale material. she tied the makeshift bandage as tightly as she could, trying to ignore how slimy and warm Jihyo’s blood felt against her fingers.
Jihyo let out a whimper, her whole body flinching as Momo secured the fabric. “I know, I know,” Momo whispered, her voice almost braking. “Just a little more. I’m almost done.”
She tied the final knot, her stomach aching so much she felt like she would gag any minute. Her fingers covered in her own sweat as her breathing came out in gasps. The bandage wasn’t perfect—not even close—but it would hold.
After what felt like forever, Jihyo’s body finally relaxed, her gasps turning into normal breaths. Her face lips where pale almost purple, her forehead covered with sweat, but the worst of the pain seemed to have passed.
Sana wiped a strand of damp hair from Jihyo’s face, her expression soft and exhausted as well. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
Jihyo blinked slowly, her eyes glassy almost lost. “Thank you…” she croaked, her voice barely coming out.
Momo sat back on her heels, wiping her hands against the damp sand. Her own breath felt trapped in her chest, sharp and uneven, but she forced herself to nod.
“Just rest. Don’t move too much, okay?”
The girls around them were quiet, their faces drawn, their eyes still locked on Jihyo’s knee. Nayeon sat back on her heels, her hands still trembling as she set the vodka bottle aside. Dahyun had returned, chaeyoung by her side as they held hands.
The girls fell into a tense silence, each of them looking at Jihyo, their faces etched with fear and exhaustion. Momo’s heart ached as she looked at her friend, at the makeshift bandages stained with blood, knowing that this was just the beginning.
Momo sat beside her, staring out at the endless sea. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was almost hypnotic, a steady rhythm that seemed to echo the heaviness settling in her heart. The beach around them was a chaotic mess of scattered suitcases, crates, and supplies, each item buried halfway in sand, marking the struggle it had taken to get them there. And her friends—each of them lay sprawled around the sand, bodies limp from the sheer weight of the strain.
It didn’t take long, and at some point...the adrenaline finally wore off.
/////////
She didn’t remember the moment they fell asleep, or for how long they’d stayed that way.
Momo took a deep breath, glancing down at Jihyo. She didn’t say anything, but the tension in her jaw spoke volumes, the set determination in her eyes despite her pale face and bandaged knee. Her wound had shaken all of them, a sharp reminder of just how alone they were out here, just how fragile each of them was.
One by one, the others stirred, blinking sleep from their eyes, confusion melting into a shared heavy silence as they took in their surroundings. It was Jeongyeon who spoke first, her voice rough but practical as she pushed herself upright.
“I think we should... we should look around,” she muttered, glancing behind her shoulder. “We barely got anything from the boat. If we’re going to be here for a while… we need to know what we’re working with.”
Jihyo nodded, wincing slightly as she adjusted her position, her voice soft but resolute. “I’ll stay here. I can’t… I can’t move much anyway.” Her gaze flicked briefly to her leg before meeting the others’. “I’ll keep busy with the supplies. Might as well make myself useful.”
The others shared a look, each of them too tired to argue. It was Dahyun who broke the silence after that,.“We should check around. See what’s here. We don’t even know if we’re on a small island or something bigger.”
Mina’s gaze was unfocused as she glanced around, her eyes heavy and distant, but she managed a small nod. “Maybe we’ll find something. People... or at least somewhere with shelter.”
Sana moved over to kneel beside Jihyo, her voice gentle but firm. “I’ll stay with you. I don’t want you staying by yourself here. Well sort everything we brought.”
Jeongyeon turned away from the water, her sharp eyes scanning the beach and the treeline behind. “Alright. We’ll split up. One group stays here—takes care of Jihyo, organizes what we’ve got, keeps everything in one place. The other group can look around. Get an idea of where we are, what we’re dealing with. But no one goes too far.”
Momo’s heart twisted at the thought of venturing out again, but the need to escape the endless view of the ocean, to leave the smell of salt behind, felt like a relief. She looked at Jeongyeon, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’ll go. I... I can’t stay here. Not by the water.”
Nayeon nodded, running a hand through her tangled hair as she glanced around. “Same. I’ll feel better if I know what’s out there.”
Chaeyoung lifted her head, squinting at a small rise in the landscape just beyond the beach. “There’s a hill up there.” she said pointing with her head. “It’s high enough that we might get a good view of the island... see what we’re dealing with without actually going in with no direction.”
Jeongyeon nodded. “Yeah. If there’s anything—or anyone—out there, we’ll spot it from higher ground.”
Tzuyu hadn’t said anything, hadn’t moved from her spot in the sand still, she looked up, her face pale but resolute. “I’ll go too,” she murmured.
Jeongyeon took a quick look around the group, her gaze sharp as she made a decision. “Okay. Me, Momo, Nayeon, Chaeyoung, and Tzuyu will head out. We’ll stick together, we won’t go far, and we’ll keep an eye out.”
Mina’s gaze was still unfocused, but Sana placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving her a small, reassuring squeeze. “You stay with us, Mina. I don’t want you going in either.”
Jihyo gave a small, grateful smile, her face strained and exhausted. “Alright. Then it’ll be me, Sana, Dahyun, and Mina here. We’ll go through what we have, see how long the supplies will last if we ration.”
Jeongyeon’s voice was firm as she looked at the group staying behind. “Keep an eye out for a boat or a helicopter... And don’t go too far from each other. We need to know where everyone is.”
Nayeon moved to Jihyo, her face tense but trying to be reassuring. “We’ll be quick. Just… take it easy, okay?” She glanced at the blood-stained bandage on Jihyo’s knee, her voice softening. “If it starts to hurt more, or if anything feels wrong, don’t wait and tell them, you hear me?”
Jihyo nodded, her gaze steady as she met Nayeon’s eyes. “I will. You just... be careful.”
With one last glance at Jihyo, who sat propped against their scattered supplies, Momo turned and followed the rest of her group. Every step felt heavier than the last, the sand clinging to her arms, her muscles aching from exhaustion and cold...
The climb was steeper than it had looked from below. The hill wasn’t towering, but every loose stone, every uneven patch of dirt, felt like an obstacle when their bodies and muscles were drained. They moved in near silence, the only sounds their labored breaths and the faint cry of the birds above them.
Momo’s feet slipped against the dirt as they pushed forward, her body protesting with each step. She planted her foot wrong on a loose rock, her ankle twisting in an awkward way. Her breath hitched as she caught herself, her hands reaching for balance against a boulder.
“Careful,” Nayeon said, glancing over her shoulder. Her voice was low, her breaths coming in short gasps.
Momo nodded, pressing her weight onto her other foot, trying to shake off the ache radiating from her ankle. She lowered herself onto a flat rock, taking a moment to wipe the sweat from her forehead. Nayeon sank down next to her, her elbows resting on her knees as she caught her breath too,
Nayeon let out a quiet sigh, her head tilted slightly upward as if trying to find something—hope, maybe—or just enjoying the different shade of blue from the sky.
Something about the way Nayeon looked—The sight sparked a memory, one she hadn’t thought of in a while—a day when Jeongyeon had insisted on taking them hiking. It had been a spur of the moment idea, one that Momo and Nayeon had both groaned at, already tired from their packed schedules. But Jeongyeon had that look in her eyes, the one that said she wouldn’t take no for an answer, and somehow, they’d found themselves climbing another hill—another time—exhausted and out of breath.
Momo had been lagging behind, struggling with each step, when she felt a hand on her arm, steadying her.
“You okay, Momo?” Nayeon had asked, her face soft with concern. “We can stop for a minute if you need too.”
Momo had nodded, out of breath but grateful, feeling her chest tighten with exhaustion. “I’m just... tired. I don’t know how you’re keeping up with Jeong.”
Nayeon laughed, her cute cackle that somehow made Momo feel lighter. “Trust me, I don’t either.” She’d brushed a leaf off Momo’s shoulder, her touch gentle, a reassuring presence beside her. “Im just better at pretending I’m fine.”
Later, when Momo had stumbled on a loose rock, nearly tripping over her own feet, Nayeon had caught her arm, holding her up with a quiet, steady strength. “Careful,” she’d murmured, her voice soft. “We can’t have you breaking an ankle out here.”
It hadn’t been anything grand—just Nayeon being... Nayeon. Just a steady presence, a quiet reassurance, and a hand on her arm when she needed it most.
Now, sitting on a similar rock, Momo felt the same sort of reassurance radiating from her friend. Nayeon wasn’t saying much, but she was there—breathing hard, sweat clinging to her forehead, but still there.
Momo let out a shaky breath, “You okay?” she asked, glancing sideways at Nayeon.
Nayeon gave her a crooked smile, tired, like the rest of them. “You’re asking me if I’m okay?”
Momo huffed a laugh through her nose, brief but real. From above, Jeongyeon’s voice called down. “You two good? We’re almost there.”
“Yeah,” Nayeon called back, pushing herself to her feet. “We’re coming.”
Momo rose carefully, testing her ankle before following Nayeon upward.
The view was... sobering—terrifying. They could see everything stretching out, endless water surrounding the island on all sides. The land, a thick forest below, trees dense and unbroken, stretching far into the distance. But there were no buildings, no lights, no signs of human life.
Nayeon’s face fell, her earlier hope dimming as she stared out at the landscape. Letting out a shaky breath. “So... it’s just us, then.”
Tzuyu was quiet, her face pale as she took in the view. She had been clinging to a sliver of hope that they’d landed on the unpopulated side of a private island, that there would be people, shelter, maybe even a way back. But now, that hope was fading fast.
Jeongyeon pressed her lips together, her gaze unwavering as she looked out over the island. “Looks like it,” she said. “There’s no one here. No buildings, no docks... nothing.”
Chaeyoung kicked at a rock, her frustration getting the best of her. “So what now? Just... wait? Hope they somehow find were we are? That they somehow find that we landed here by pure chance?”
She watched as Jeongyeon nodded. “It´s our best option right now. If we start moving inland without a plan, they won’t see us. We won’t see if a boat passes by, or a plane, or anything... and we...we don’t have enough supplies to risk wandering around.”
Nayeon let out a sigh, her voice edged with bitterness. “So we’re just supposed to sit here, and hope to be spotted by chance?”
Momo felt her own heart sink, the weight of their isolation settling over her like a blanket of dread. She looked at the faces of her friends, each one mirroring the same. The idea of staying on this island, of sitting on the shore with nothing but the faint hope of rescue, felt almost impossible to bear. But what choice did they have?
Jeongyeon ran a hand through her hair, letting out a tired sigh. “Look, I don’t like it either. But right now, staying put is our best chance. They’ll know where we are, so we’ll keep close to the water... if anyone’s looking, this is where they’ll find us.”
Tzuyu glanced back at the ocean, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “And if they stopped looking?”
A heavy silence fell over them, each of them staring out at the endless sea, the grim reality pressing down on them. Nayeon let out a small, bitter laugh, her sharp with sarcasm. “Guess we’d better make ourselves comfortable, then.”
“Well,” Jeongyeon said, “ we better get back... there’s no escaping this now.”
They stood there in silence for a moment, letting everything really sink in, to really feel how alone they truly were. Momo glanced back at the shore where they’d left Jihyo and the others, a sense of helplessness tightening in her chest.
“Let’s go,” Jeongyeon said, her tone final. “I don’t want to keep them waiting.”
With one last look at the desolate view, they began their descent, each step bringing them closer to the sobering truth that they were, for now, very much alone.
/////////
The descent didn’t take long, but by the time Momo and the others reached the shore, the sun had begun to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, orange glow over the beach. The scene would have been beautiful, almost peaceful, if not for the weight pressing down on all of them.
“How are you holding up?” Nayeon asked, her gaze darting between Jihyo’s injured knee and Mina’s pale, distant expression.
Jihyo forced a tight smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll manage,” she said,. “It’s... It hurts like hell, but I think it stopped bleeding.”
Mina didn’t respond. Her gaze was fixed somewhere far away, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Momo’s chest tightened at the sight—it was like Mina was locked in her own head again.
She felt her own fear sit heavy in her stomach then, but she pushed it aside, forcing herself to focus. There would be time for her to fall apart later—right now, they needed a plan.
Sana, who had been organizing the supplies with Dahyun, stood up as they approached, gesturing to a few neat piles on the sand. “Alright,” she said, her tone clipped but trying to sound calm. “We went through everything. It’s not much, but...”
The girls gathered around as Jihyo shifted, her face serious as she took over, listing the items as they went through each pile.
“First... food and water,” Jihyo began, her voice steady. “We have a crate full of canned food... Some soups, rice, and some fruit. Not much, but it’ll hold us for a bit if we ration.”
Chaeyoung frowned, glancing at the pile of cans. “How long are we talking?”
“If we’re careful, maybe a few days. Jeongyeon did us a solid hiding it to ration.” Dahyun added, her face tense. “But now... this is it.”
Jihyo nodded, her gaze moving to the next pile. “Water on the other hand... ten bottles—small ones. That’s it.”
Nayeon let out a frustrated sigh that almost sounded like a laugh. “Great. Fantastic. So we’re screwed in about two days if we don’t figure something out.”
“complainings not going to help,” Jeongyeon interrupted. “We’ll figure it out. What else?”
Sana moved to the next pile, her eyes lingering on a few scattered items. “Clothes, some extra shirts, a couple of towels... mostly from the suitcases.”
Momo’s eyes drifted to the next box, where more bottles glinted in the fading light.
“And... alcohol,” Dahyun said reluctantly. “There’s a lot of it. Vodka, tequila... He really was planning one hell of a party.”
Momo’s lip twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Not exactly helpful unless we’re planning to drink ourselvves stupid.”
Jihyo’s expression tightened slightly as she shifted her leg. “We’ll keep it for disinfecting wounds. At least it’s good for something.”
Sana looked to her side, letting out a small sigh. “And then there’s... this.”
The last pile was... ridiculous. A stinkingly bright pineapple float peeked out from beneath tangled mesh, along with a couple of other floats.
Chaeyoung let out a short, humorless laugh. “Inflatables? Seriously?”
Nayeon crossed her arms, her expression dry. “Great. So we’ve got canned beans, vodka, and a rubber duck floatie. We’re set.”
“Nayeon!” Jihyo called her out.
“We might be able to use them for something,” Jeongyeon said with a serious tone. “If nothing else, they’ll help us carry things if we ever need to move supplies in the water.”
Jihyo shifted slightly, wincing as she moved her injured leg. Her voice was quieter now, almost apologetic. “It’s not enough. It’s... it’s barely anything.”
Momo felt her chest tighten as the reality sank in once again. Each item seemed smaller, less significant, as she took in the grim sum of their resources. It wasn’t enough—not even close. And the hollow feeling in her stomach told her they all knew it.
Tzuyu spoke up, her voice even quieter than before. “So.., we just wait, huh?”
Jihyo looked around at each of them, her sorrow transformed into a fire in her eyes. “Yes. But if it’s another day or two with no sign of rescue...”
She didn’t finish, but the silence that followed her words said enough. Momo glanced at the others, the fear clear in their eyes, the same thought weighing on all of them.
What if no one comes?
“We’ll ration what we have,” Jeongyeon said. “We’ll stretch it as long as we can. And if we need to... we’ll start figuring out how to survive here.”
The girls nodded, a heavy, reluctant agreement settling over them. Momo took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her own exhaustion pressing down, but she pushed it back, refusing to let herself fully feel it yet. There would be time for breaking down later. For now, they needed each other, needed to stay focused, even as hope felt like it was slipping through their fingers.
Jihyo looked at each of them, her expression steady despite her own fear. “Let’s get some rest tonight. Tomorrow... we’ll decide what to do tomorrow.”
They sat together in silence, the fading light casting long shadows across the sand, each of them lost in their thoughts, bracing themselves for whatever lay ahead.
/////////
The sun had barely set when the temperature started to drop, and within an hour, the chill was seeping through Momo’s thin clothes, down to her bones. She hugged her arms around herself, shivering uncontrollably, her teeth clattering as she looked around at the others. They were all huddled together, rubbing their arms, their faces pale and drawn. None of them had expected the island to turn so cold so quickly. There was no shelter, no warmth, and no way to start a fire.
Chaeyoung broke the silence, her voice muffled as she pressed her chin into her knees. “I didn’t think it’d get this cold. Isn’t this supposed to be a tropical island?”
Nayeon let out a weak, humorless laugh, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. “Guess no one told us the weather.”
Momo scanned the beach, hoping against hope to see something, anything that could offer them shelter. Her eyes landed on a dark spot in the distance, just beyond the curve of the shoreline—a huge rock with a narrow opening, barely visible in the moonlight. It looked like a cave, or at least something that could give them a break from the wind.
She pointed toward it, her voice shaky. “Over there. Do you see that? It’s like... a small cave, I think.”
The others followed her gaze, squinting into the darkness. Jeongyeon was the first to speak, her voice laced with hope. “It’s small, but it might be enough to keep the wind off.”
“Anything’s better than this.” Sana murmured, her teeth chattering.
They began moving, stumbling over the sand, their movements clumsy from fatigue and cold. But then Momo’s eyes caught on Jihyo, still propped up against a pile of supplies, her injured knee awkwardly stretched out in front of her. Her face was pinched with pain, her lips pressed tightly together.
“I... I don’t think I can walk,” Jihyo said quietly, her voice barely carrying over the wind. Her eyes shinning faintly with tears she was trying not to let fall.
Jeongyeon was already at her side, bendin down to meet her gaze. “We’ll help you.” She glanced at Momo. “Can you take her other side?”
Momo nodded, swallowing against the knot forming in her throat. She moved to Jihyo’s left, looping Jihyo’s arm over her shoulders while Jeongyeon did the same on the other side.
“Alright, on three,” Jeongyeon said. “One… two… three.”
They lifted together, moving with slow, deliberate steps. Every shift made Jihyo gasp softly, her face contorting with pain.
Jihyo let out a choked gasp, her face contorting in pain with each movement. “I’m.. I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes as she looked between Momo and Jeongyeon. “I should’ve been more careful.”
Jeongyeon shook her head, her voice firm but gentle. “Don’t. You have nothing to apologize for.”
Momo tightened her grip, speaking softly near Jihyo’s ear. “We’ve got you. Just... keep breathing. We’re almost there.”
They walked slowly, each step seeming to take an eternity, Jihyo’s pained gasps breaking the silence as they moved across the sand. Momo could feel the wet spot of Jihyo’s tears as she leaned against her, the sound of her quiet whimpers cutting deeper than any words. Every few steps, they’d pause, letting her catch her breath, doing their best to be gentle, but the pain was unavoidable, relentless.
Each cry was like a stab to Momo´s chest.
But they made it.
The opening in the rock was small—barely a hollow carved into the stone, just deep enough to block the wind if they all squeezed together.
“Alright,” Jeongyeon said, “Everyone in.”
Jihyo was lowered carefully to the flattest patch of ground they could find. Sana knelt beside her immediately, adjusting the bandage on her knee and offering her a smile.
“Let me know if it gets worse, okay?”
Jihyo nodded, her face pale but composed. “I’ll be fine. Just... thank you.”
Around them, the others settled in. Nayeon motioned for Momo to sit down, then slid in front of her, leaning back against her chest. Mina followed, her small frame folding in close, her head resting lightly on Nayeon’s shoulder.
Momo felt Mina trembling slightly, her breaths uneven. She wrapped her arms around both girls, trying to share what little warmth she had left.
On the other side, Chaeyoung, Tzuyu, and Dahyun huddled together. Chaeyoung draped a towel across Tzuyu’s shoulders before pulling Dahyun close.
“Penguins do this, right?” Chaeyoung said weakly, her voice cracking slightly. “Huddle together for warmth?”
Dahyun let out a soft snort, though it lacked any real humor. “Pretty sure penguins are better at it.”
Jeongyeon settled near Jihyo, leaning her head back against the stone wall with a tired sigh. “Well, good we have one of our own.” She said glancing at Mina for a second, before letting her eyes close.
For a moment, no one spoke. The wind howled faintly outside, and the darkness of the cave settled over them like a heavy blanket.
In the silence, Mina’s voice broke through, soft and fragile. “I just... I want to go home.”
The words hung in the air, raw almost like bouncing off the walls of the cave.
Jihyo opened her eyes, her expression soft but resolute. “We will, Mina. We’ll be okay.”
Momo closed her eyes briefly, resting her chin on Nayeon’s shoulder. The weight of everything pressed down on her, but so did the warmth of the others around her.
She spoke softly, almost to herself. “We can’t fall apart now. No matter how bad it gets...”
Nayeon squeezed Momo’s arm. “We won’t. I promise we won’t.”
The cave fell silent again, the only sounds their breathing and the distant crash of waves outside. It wasn’t enough—not the shelter, not the warmth, not the hope they clung to—but it would have to do.
It would have to be enough to hold them together. Enough to carry them through the cold hours ahead.