Mina
The world around her felt distant, muffled, as if she were submerged underwater. Each sound—footsteps on sand, the murmur of voices, even the shifting of the wind—was dulled and far away. Mina sat still, her body tense, but she wasn’t really here. She was somewhere else, trapped in the past, reliving a moment in time she couldn’t escape.
The scent of salt clung to the air, and the sand... It should’ve been grounding, a reminder of where she was now, but it only made her stomach tighten. Her fingers digging into her tights as a cold sweat gathered on the back of her neck. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, uneven, and unable to stop.
She wasn’t on the island anymore. She was back there—on the boat, in the sun. Feeling it burn her exposed skin.
The memory was a dark place, one she couldn’t seem to climb out of. She felt stuck there, endlessly replaying fragments of that day, each image coming back sharper than the last. His eyes, glazed with drink, looking at her without seeing her, his slurred, angry words. The way he’d pointed the gun so close to her, his hand shaking as if he barely had control over it, the sheer unpredictability of his rage making her feel so... so helpless.
And then the sound.
The shot.
The deafening, sharp crack of the bullet as it passed her head, just inches away. Mina flinched violently, her head turning to the side, gasping as if she had truly felt it all over again.
Her whole body had frozen, her breath stuck in her throat, but the fear... it had sunk in, cold and sharp, coiling inside her like poison. It had been beyond fear, beyond terror. She had felt like nothing—like her life could just end there... just there.
The memory seized her, drowning her in the sheer helplessness of that day. The screams, the begging. She could hear it all so clearly, feel the raw terror that had swallowed her whole. She had wanted to move, to speak, to beg— maybe she had begged...she couldn’t remember—she had been frozen, her body betraying her, locking her in place while her friends pleaded for her life.
The waves kept crashing, loud and insistent. Somewhere distant, she thought she heard her name, but it didn’t register. It was just another sound, part of the tricks of her mind. She didn’t want to be here—in this memory, in this relentless wave of emotions she couldn’t escape. But she didn’t know how to leave. She didn’t know how to bring herself back.
Time passed, but she couldn’t tell how much. Everything felt muted, a haze she couldn’t pierce, her thoughts slipping away before she could hold onto them. Her family, her friends—she knew she should be thinking of them, that she should feel something more, but she couldn’t. It was like her mind was holding her captive, hostage, refusing to let her feel anything beyond that day.
But then... a touch—soft and real. Mina blinked, her eyes focusing just barely on the hand resting on her knee.
Jihyo.
She managed to look her way, feeling a fresh sense of guilt as she met her worried eyes. She knew Jihyo had been watching her, that she had been trying to help. But Mina couldn’t meet her eyes for long, the shame heavy in her chest. She didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want to add to the weight they were all carrying. But she couldn’t bring herself out of this, couldn’t find her way back.
Jihyo’s voice was soft, her words alway gentle with her. “Mina... you’re safe. You’re here with us.”
Mina nodded numbly, her gaze drifting away again, as if her mind was slipping from her control. She didn’t feel safe, not really. She felt hollow, as if part of her had been left behind on that boat, something essential she would never get back again.
They sat in silence for a moment, Jihyo’s hand still resting on her knee, never letting go. Mina wished she could tell her what she was feeling, could explain the tangle of fear and numbness that held her back. But she couldn’t push out the words, her thoughts stuck in her mind. Locked up.
She looked out at the beach, at Nayeon standing tall in the sand a few feet away, her shoulders tense as she traced large letters in the ground with a stick. She followed her movementts, the letters taking shape in the sand, clear and desperate.
S. O. S.
She stared at them, her mind catching onto the shapes, the plea they represented.
SOS, SOS...
The letters blurred in her vision, the words echoing in her loudly in her head. A call for help, a plea to be found.
The letters didn’t look real, and yet they were all she could focus on. Each time she read them, it felt like they grew louder, filling her mind with a single, overwhelming thought. Help.
It was the only thing she could understand.
But it was just letters, just a mark in the sand. There was no guarantee anyone would see it. No promise it would change anything.
Mina’s eyes burned, but there were no more tears, no more release. She was caught, suspended somewhere between hope and despair, unable to move, unable to breathe. Unable to... exist.
/////////
She drifted, slipping in and out of the haze that held her mind hostage.
But sometimes she would come back—she didn’t know how or why, but she would. Her thoughts would clear just enough for her to see where she was, to hear the sounds around her, to recognize the faces of her friends. It was like emerging from underwater, the world above faint and distorted, only to be pulled back down into the depths moments later.
Still she clung to them, this moment of rest were her mind disconnected for a moment. Like this morning, Watching as Dahyun´s team got into the sea, the cold blue stretching out before them as they fished, their movements catching her eyes.
She sat with Jihyo and Nayeon, feeling the sand beneath her, rough against her legs, solid but somehow still distant. She watched, her focus wavering as they sorted through the boxes and suitcases. She heard them talking in soft, though the words were muffled, as if her mind couldn’t fully grasp them.
Jihyo’s voice came through, clear enough for her to pick up. “Nayeon, you need to be careful. Your skin’s... it’s so red, it’s raw.” Jihyo gestured to the place where Nayeon’s jean shorts ended, revealing skin that was nearly blistered from where her clothes had stuck to her. The damp fabric, mixed with the salt and sand, had rubbed against her skin, leaving it raw and tender.
Nayeon looked down, grimacing as she touched the sore patch. “Guess it’s time for a change, then. Something more... appropriate.” She managed a weak smile, but Mina could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the weariness they all carried.
They sifted through the clothes, laying out clean bikinis from one of the suitcases. Nayeon handed one to Mina, her expression gentle, encouraging. “Here. Go change. Fresh clothes might feel nice, you know?”
And Mina took it without a second thought, staring at it for a moment, her fingers tracing over the fabric, but her hands began to shake. The simple act of changing, of shedding her old clothes, felt impossible.
The moment pressing down on her again, her fear sharp, unforgiving. The memory was there, clawing its way back into her mind—the way he’d looked at her, the cold tone in his voice, the humiliation that had swallowed her whole as she’d stripped, piece by piece, under his eyes. Remembering all the things she thought he would do to her before tossing her aside...
She felt like she was back there again, under his control, reduced to something small and vulnerable. Her breathing... she could barely breathe, and her vision blurred. She looked down at her shaking hands, her chest tight, each breath coming faster, trying to fill her lungs.
It was as though she’d lost herself again, trapped in that moment, that place, where she was nothing but meat and bones, stripped of her humanity, made to feel like... like she didn’t matter. The fear wrapped around her, suffocating around her throat.
She barely noticed Nayeon moving beside her, a gentle hand resting on her shoulder. Mina flinched, the touch bringing her back just slightly, enough for her to hear Nayeon calling her name.
“Mina,” she whispered. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You don’t have to... you don’t have to feel like that here. You’re with us.”
Mina managed to nod, though her thoughts were still stuck. She could see Nayeon’s face, the worry in her eyes, the strength she was trying to carry, and it anchored her, kept her from drifting too far.
She moved. Not to far and not for too long, just enough to help Jihyo change, while Mina watches it all. Nayeon eased Jihyo’s shirt over her head first, then moved to her legs making sure not to move her injured knee too much, her hands steady as she supported her weight. Jihyo muttered a quiet thanks, her face tight with discomfort but grateful.
It was a familiar rhythm, something that had become second nature between them after years of sharing space, of knowing each other so well that moments like these barely registered as anything beyond what needed to be done.
But it wasn’t the same anymore. It didn’t feel the same.
Mina watched, her breath uneven, her vision blurring at the edges. The moment Nayeon turned to her, offering to help, something inside her cracked wide open. Panic surged, raw and suffocating, as the memory overtook her—the way he had looked at her, prove it...
Prove it.
All their eyes had been on her, the sheer humiliation of it, how powerless she had felt. And now, here was Nayeon, about to do the same—to make her undress, even if it was only to help. Her hands shook violently, her chest tightening as though the air had been stolen from her lungs.
Nayeon’s brows furrowed, realization dawning in her eyes as she took in Mina’s trembling form. Without hesitation, she reached for her hand, squeezing it, letting her know she was there.
"Come with me," she murmured. She didn’t ask, didn’t push—just guided Mina away, away from the others, away from the weight of the moment threatening to crush her.
She let herself be led a little further away, just enough to feel like they had some semblance of privacy. Nayeon knelt beside her, her voice quiet but certain. “I can help you, if you want. Just... tell me what you need.”
Mina tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t come. Her breathing hitched as she felt herself slipping again, that same haze threatening to drag her under. Nayeon noticed. Her fingers squeezing Mina’s just a little tighter, her presence unwavering.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” Nayeon murmured. “I’ve got you.”
Mina swallowed hard, nodding, barely able to meet her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she was shaking from fear or from the effort of holding herself together, but Nayeon didn’t rush her, and she didn’t let go.
“Do you... do you want help?” She asked, her hands steady around Mina’s. “I can help you change, if that’s what you want. I’ll be right here.”
Slowly and with patience after giving her a nod, Nayeon helped her ease out of her old clothes. She didn’t look away, but she didn’t stare either. Every movement was careful, respectful, as if she knew exactly what Mina needed—someone to be there, without pressure, without expectation.
As Nayeon slipped the bikini top over Mina’s shoulders and adjusted the straps, Mina felt a small sense of relief, a faint warmth in her chest. Nayeon had been careful, her every movement slow and measured, making sure Mina was comfortable.
Despite everything they were all going through, despite the exhaustion weighing on them, Nayeon still had the patience, the strength to care for her too. Mina wasn’t sure how she managed it, how she found it in herself to be so gentle when the world had hardened around them. She felt it in the way Nayeon’s hands never lingered too long, in the way she kept murmuring soft reassurances without forcing her to respond. Mina was grateful—more than she could say. And in what felt like forever, she felt something close to safe. Not entirely, not completely, but enough. Enough to breathe, enough to believe, even just for a moment, that she wasn’t trapped anymore.
When they were done, Nayeon collected Mina’s clothes, holding them as they walked back to where Jihyo was waiting. Mina still felt hollow, the darkness around the edges of her mind, but there was a faint glimmer of light now, a reminder— even though small—that she wasn’t lost entirely. She could still find her way back, even if only at times.
Jihyo looked up as they approached, understating in her eyes as Mina send a small smile her way, fragile but real. She settled beside her friends, her heart still heavy, but the weight was slightly lessened now.
/////////
They were still sitting in the hot sand when she noticed movement in the distance. Jeongyeon’s team making their way back, arms full of sticks and what looked like bamboo poles. Mina watched as they dropped the materials by their side with huge grins on their faces.
“We found bamboo!” Jeongyeon said, a bit breathless but grinning. “Chaeyoung swears she saw some video about making knives out of rocks, so we tried it. Took a while, but we actually managed to cut some down.”
Chaeyoung wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, exhaling. “It’s not perfect, but it works. If we gather enough, we could make a sturdier shelter. Oh, and we found some coconuts too. Not a lot, but it’s something.”
Jihyo nodded, looking over the materials with quiet admiration. “That’s... That’s really impressive. We’re lucky to have you guys. This is amazing.”
Chaeyoung shrugged, trying to hide her pride. “Well, let’s see if it actually helps first. We’re heading back to grab what we can.”
Mina gave a small nod, watching as Chaeyoung and the others disappeared into the trees again. Something about their determination, about the way they kept moving forward, made her chest feel a little lighter.
Nayeon nudged her shoulder. “Want to help me plan this shelter? I was thinking if we lay the bamboo for the floor, it’ll keep us off the sand and make it a little more comfortable.”
Mina hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding, standing and dusting off her hands. She knew what Nayeon was doing—keeping her busy, keeping her from slipping too deep into her thoughts. But she appreciated it. The work helped. Nayeon handed her a piece of bamboo, and together they started mapping out a space, pushing some of the poles into the sand and using vines to tie them together. The rhythm of it, the repetitive motion, was strangely soothing.
“You think this is actually going to hold?” Nayeon asked, tugging one of the poles and watching it wobble slightly. “Because I really don’t want to wake up in a pile of broken bamboo.”
Mina exhaled, but she found enough strength to reply. “Guess we’ll find out.”
Nayeon smirked. “That’s comforting.”
Jihyo was tying pieces with vines, still sitting, still defeated by her injured knee. “As long as it doesn’t collapse on me in the middle of the night, I’ll take it.”
Mina let the conversation pass between them, listening more than speaking. She felt a small smile tug at her lips—not quite there, but something close. The teasing between them felt normal, steady. She could focus on that.
They worked together, securing the bamboo as best as they could. Nayeon kept talking, filling the space with joks and casual remarks, and Mina let herself be pulled into the comfort of it. Everything was still looming at the back of her mind, but for now, she was here, present.
When they finally tied off the last vine, Mina stepped back, hands on her hips, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. Nayeon wiped at her cheek absentmindedly, smearing dirt across her skin in the process. She grinned, not noticing or not caring. “Look at us. Building a house. If this whole idol thing doesn’t work out, we could definitively start a cabin business.”
Jihyo huffed, but laughed midway. “I don’t think anyone’s hiring us just yet.”
She let a sound escape her, a whisper of a laugh barely there. She glanced down at her hands—calloused, scraped, but... steady.
“Thanks,” she murmured, not sure if she was saying it to them or to herself. She wasn’t sure if they heard her anyway, but that was okay. She was okay.
/////////
Mina leaned back in the sand, her hands resting on the ground, feeling the roughness of the grains beneath her fingers. She glanced at the shelter behind her, tall and sturdy, giving them enough shade to have the three of them rest and not worry about the sun.
Nayeon sat beside her, stretching her arms and groaning. The morning had been long, the work exhausting, but it’d helped her get out of it. Be more present.
She looked over to where Jihyo was hunched over the coconuts, gripping one of the makeshift knives left by Chaeyoung’s team and chipping away the hard shell. Beside her, Dahyun and Sana were kneeling, sorting through the fish they’d managed to catch, counting each one as they placed them in a box.
Momo wandered over smiling as she handed them the last of the fish from the day’s haul. “Here you go. Put them with the others for now, captain.”
Dahyun laughed, wiping her forehead as she looked down at the box of fish. “I think we’ve caught enough for tonight. We might not even need to dip into the cans. A real feast... well by our new standards.”
Sana chuckled, brushing some sand from her hands as she settled down beside Mina, “How are you doing?” Her tone was gentle, the concern clear, though she didn’t press.
“I’m… fine.” It was the easiest answer, the one that wouldn’t bring questions. She didn’t want them to worry, didn’t want to add to the weight they were all carrying. Besides, what else was there to say? She was fine, for now, in this moment. That was the best she could offer.
Sana seemed to sense this and didn’t push, her hand reaching out to give Mina’s a reassuring squeeze. “Well, you look good... And that bikini suits you.” She offered the compliment with a wink, her tone friendly and playful as always.
Jihyo looked up from her coconut, “There are more clothes in the suitcases. We probably should’ve changed earlier. The salt and sand aren’t doing us any favors.”
Nayeon nodded, glancing at the edges of her own skin where the damp fabric had left a pink, raw patch just above the line of her shorts. “Yeah, it was definitely overdue... I didn’t know we’d need a full makeover here.”
Mina allowed herself to laugh, the sound a release from the tension built up inside her. She watched her friends settle in the sand around her, each of them caught in a rhythm of their own—Sana brushing sand from her feet, Nayeon stretching her legs, Jihyo tapping the coconut in her hands to pry it open. It was quiet and full of mundane tasks, a moment where they could all just... be.
But even as she tried to settle into that calm, Mina couldn’t shake her eyes away of the crashing waves against the shore.
The sound was inescapable, surrounding her, haunting her memories. She stared at the water, the endless blue stretching before her, and felt a chill pass through her spine.
There was a time she’d loved the ocean. She’d always been a strong swimmer, always the first to dive in, the one who loved the freedom, the weightlessness of the water. But now... she couldn’t even look at ti without it feeling like a prison, a reminder of everything she wanted to forget.
She couldn’t even imagine stepping into it, couldn’t picture herself moving past the edge of the shore without feeling that icy grip of fear clawing its way back into her chest.
Sana must have noticed, and worried she nudge at her. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look... lost.”
Mina blinked, her focus shifting back to Sana’s face. She wanted to answer, wanted to say she was fine, but the words wouldn’t come. So instead she nodded, just letting her head move up and down to make her friend feel at ease.
But as she sat there, looking out at the ocean...
It was inevitable.
The memories crept back, pulling her down like a riptide. The waves grew louder, crashing harder in her mind, in her eyes, drowning out everything else.
She remembered the Kaito’s voice, the way it cut through the silence, sharp...slurred, ordering her to undress, his eyes filled with something dark, something that made her feel so small and so powerless...
She’d stood there, exposed, feeling like she was nothing but bones and flesh, an object to be looked at, controlled, a body without worth or will. Her friends had begged, their voices desperate, pleading with him, but it hadn’t mattered. She had felt stripped of everything, her dignity, her humanity... everything that once made her feel whole.
Her hands began to tremble, her eyes dropping to the sand as the familiar darkness wrapped around her again. The laughter, the warmth from her friends—it all faded, slipping away until she was left alone with the echo of that moment, that feeling of being drifting alone.
The waves grew louder in her mind, lapping against the boat, dragging her back to that place, to that helplessness. She could hear the gunshot again, so loud it made her ears ring, the sound so close, the bullet slicing through the air just inches from her head. She felt it, felt the shock of it, the terror that had frozen her in place, unable to move, unable to breathe.
She was there again.
Again.
Standing on the deck of that boat, prove it... prove it... The cold air against her skin, every piece of her stripped away. The world around her felt distant, faded, like she was looking at it through a fogged window.
“Mina?”
The voice barely registered. It barely there, barely cutting through the haze. She felt a hand on her shoulder, but even that wasn’t enough. She was trapped, spiraling, lost in the darkness that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction.
The waves crashed, louder and louder, drowning everything else out. All she could see, all she could feel, was that moment—the humiliation, the fear, the sense of being nothing more than a body, a thing to be mocked. She wanted to scream, to break free, but the memory... it held her tight.
“Mina... hey... you’re safe. You’re here with us.”
The words drifted over her, but they felt like they were coming from far away, an echo in the distance. She couldn’t bring herself back, couldn’t escape the weight of it, the way it held her captive.
All she could do was sit there, her hands clutching the sand, the dark tide pulling her further and further down. Drawing her.
“Hey.”
Mina blinked, the voice breaking through the dark like a light. She glanced up and realized Chaeyoung was sitting beside her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of her presence. She hadn’t even noticed their return, hadn’t seen the sun dip low in the sky, casting long cold shadows over the beach.
She was holding a half coconut, filled to the brim with water, and gently brought it up to Mina’s lips. “Drink,” she murmured, Mina hesitated, then accepted, feeling the cool liquid slide down her throat. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was—couldn’t remember the last time she drank more than a few sips—the water soothing the dryness in her mouth, grounding her further.
“Thank you,” Mina said, her voice barely a whisper. She felt a slight rush of clarity, enough to notice the exhaustion etched on Chaeyoung’s face and the others scattered around them, each girl worn and weary, with a heaviness that had nothing to do with the day’s labor.
The thought of rescue lingered over all of them, the only thing that kept them going. It had been less than a week—of course, they were still looking for them. The thought was always there, in the back of her mind, but another, darker thought crept in, one she hadn’t been able to shake... Had they checked this island when they weren’t here? Had they searched nearby? Would they look again? Or had they already moved on, assuming the worst?
She didn’t let her mind wander too far this time, didn’t retreat fully into the shadows of those thoughts. Maybe it was the coconut, or maybe it was Chaeyoung, sitting beside her, feeling like an anchor.
“How are you holding up?”
Mina looked over at her, the honesty in Chaeyoung’s eyes reaching right through her. She would see through any empty reassurance, any half-hearted lie.
And Mina realized in that moment that she didn’t want to hide anymore. Not from her.
She shook her head slowly, her words coming out in a rough, uneven gasp. “I... I don’t know, Chae. I’m... here, I guess. But it’s like... part of me is stuck there, on the boat. I feel like... like I’m here, but I’m not.”
Chaeyoung’s face softened, showing the sadness she felt. And right there Mina noticed the strain in her expression, the subtle weight Chaeyoung had been carrying. She’d been holding herself together, so much so that Mina hadn’t seen the cracks until now... until she noticed the way Chaeyoung’s hands trembled, how her shoulders hunched and her eyes got wet.
Before Mina could even say something, Chaeyoung’s voice cracked. “I just want you back, Mina.” Her words were raw, vulnerable, carrying a depth of emotion that hit Mina like a wave. The words hung between them, and in that moment, something clicked deep inside her—a realization that Chaeyoung had been holding herself together, trying to be strong, just so Mina wouldn’t have to see her break.
A single tear slipped down Chaeyoung’s cheek, and Mina felt her chest tighten, alll her guilt consuming her.
Chaeyoung had been silently carrying this, had been keeping herself from falling apart so that Mina could hold on, could have someone steady to rely on. All this time, she’d been so caught in her own pain, her own sorrow, that she hadn’t seen how much Chaeyoung was hurting too.
Without another word, Mina reached over and wrapped her arms around Chaeyoung, pulling her close. She felt the small shudder of Chaeyoung’s breath as she let herself lean into Mina’s arms, holding her back.
“I’m sorry, Chae,” Mina whispered. “I’m so sorry. I.... I’ve been so lost, and I didn’t see... I didn’t see what you were going through. But I’m here now. I’m here. And I... I promise I’ll try... I’m staying this time, Chae. For you.”
Chaeyoung’s hand clutched at her shoulders, her grip tight, as if she were afraid to let go. She sniffled, her falling just like before. “I... I didn’t want you to see me like this. I wanted to be strong... I wanted for you to hold on. But, Mina, I... I can’t do this alone.”
Mina’s heart ached at the pain in her voice, each word a reminder of the strength Chaeyoung had shown, even when it had cost her so much. So she held her closer, one hand stroking her back and the other stoking her hair, letting her hold on now.
“You don’t have to do it alone anymore” she murmured. “I’m here. I know I haven’t been, but... I am now. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Chaeyoung’s voice cracked, a sob escaping her lips as she finally let herself break completely. “I... I was so scared, Mina. I thought... I thought we were going to lose you, that... that you’d just drift away, and I wouldn’t be able to... to pull you back.”
She felt her own tears slip down as she listened, the pain and fear in Chaeyoung’s words settling into her chest. She tightened her hold, her heart breaking in two for the girl who’d held on so tightly, even when it hurt.
“I’m sorry,” Mina whispered again as she pressed a kiss to Chaeyoung’s shoulder. “I didn’t see how much you needed me. I... I didn’t see... I should have known... But I see it now, Chae. And I... I’ll do better. I’ll be here for you.”
Chaeyoung’s tears came harder now, just like her sobs. She let herself go, the weight of it all finally spilling out now that Mina was there to hold her. To be her rock, her anchor.
Mina kept brushing her hand over Chaeyoung’s hair, her own tears slipping down her face, but for the first time, the darkness didn’t feel so overwhelming. It felt... shared, held between them, something they could carry together.
She didn’t stop rubbing her back until the sobs began to subside, Chaeyoung’s breathing evening out. Her face flushed now, her eyes red and puffy. She looked up at Mina, wiping at her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for... for coming back. For finding a way back.”
“I... Chae...Thank you for waiting,” she replied softly. “For holding on... even when I couldn’t.”
She squeezed Chaeyoung’s hand, a promise passing between them.
She was here, now, fully present, and for Chaeyoung, for herself... she would try to stay.
/////////
They shared the same fish—Chaeyoung and her— the biggest catch of the day. They ate in easy silence, with Chaeyoung occasionally offering her little pieces of her own. Mina’s mind felt clearer than it had in days—her thoughts wandered here and there, the memory of the boat still lingering in shadows, but it was easier now, easier to remember to come back.
She had someone beside her who needed her, that needed her present, and that responsibility anchored her in the here and now.
The fire crackled low, and the others began preparing for the night. Mina watched them, each girl moving in the cold of the night, making their way to their homes for the night. But there was something comforting about it, about knowing that they had a place to sleep, a plan for the night, even if it wasn’t perfect.
Nayeon and Momo carried Jihyo to the larger shelter Mina and Nayeon had finished earlier that day, carefully helping Jihyo settle in so her leg could rest comfortably. The rest headed toward the cave, their voices soft as they all shared tired goodnights.
She glanced over at Chaeyoung, who had lingered by her side, waiting. “Ready?” she asked, her voice stronger than before.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
They made their way to the first shelter, the smaller one they’d built on that first night, and settled inside. Mina helping Chaeyoung ease down beside her.
The night was quiet, the only sounds around them the crackling of the fire outside and the occasional murmur of the waves in the distance.
Chaeyoung sighed, her head resting against Mina’s shoulder as they leaned into each other, the warmth of their shared space a small sanctuary from everything outside. Mina felt a sense of calm she hadn’t experienced since before all of this, a sense of peace in the closeness between them. She reached out, tracing light patterns along Chaeyoung’s arm, her fingers brushing over the faint outlines of Chaeyoung’s tattoos. They were barely visible in the dim firelight, but Mina had seen them enough times to remember every detail.
Chaeyoung’s voice broke the silence, a bit raspy now with the cold. “I like this,” she murmured. “It feels... I don’t know. Right, maybe. Like... we’re back, you know?”
Mina’s heart softened at her words, understanding exactly what she meant. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Chaeyoung’s head. “I’m sorry, Chae. For everything... for not being here when you needed me.”
Chaeyoung shifted slightly, turning to look up at her. “Hey,” she whispered. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry if a made you feel like you had to... We’re all going through this in our own way. And I know it’s been hard on you. But you’re here now, Mina. And that’s all that matters to me.”
She looked her in the eyes after that, her heart swelling at her words. At her strength. She felt the warmth of Chaeyoung’s hand covering her own, grounding her, keeping her here, and the comfort of it, of being held, of being accepted without question, filled her with a feeling she hadn’t realized she’d missed so deeply.
Chaeyoung adjusted her position slightly, her face now inches from Mina’s, her gaze soft and full of understanding. “You know, I’ve missed this, too,” Chae admitted, “Just... being close. It’s like... like you’re really here with me again.”
Mina felt a familiar warmth bloom in her chest, a small spark that she hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. She’d forgotten this feeling—the subtle joy of being close, of having someone by her side who saw her, truly saw her, and accepted her just as she was. She gave Chaeyoung’s hand a gentle squeeze, her own voice barely coming out. “I’ve missed it too, Chae. More than I realized.”
Chaeyoung was facing Mina fully now, her head nestled against Mina’s shoulder, her eyes closed as she relaxed into the night. Mina’s fingers moved gently over her shoulder, the soothing patterns bringing comfort to them both. She traced the familiar lines over and over again, her mind calming with the rhythmic motion.
After a moment, Chaeyoung opened her eyes, looking up at Mina with a smile pulling at her lips. “You know,” she said, “I think... I think you’re stronger than you realize. Stronger than many of us. But if you ever feel like you’re slipping again... I’ll be here. And you won’t have to face it alone.”
She felt her tears fall before she could catch them. The sense of safety and support filling her with a warmth she hadn’t thought possible after all that had happened, after everything they’ve been through. She leaned down, pressing her forehead to Chaeyoung’s, their breaths blending in the quiet of the night.
“I know, Chae” Mina whispered, and she didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t stop it when her voice cracked with emotion. “Thank you for staying with me. For waiting for me.”
Chaeyoung’s eyes softened, a small smile spreading across her face. She reached up, brushing a thumb over Mina’s cheek, wiping her tears. “I’ll always wait for you, Mina. No matter what.”
Mina felt her heart skip a beat at her words, at the simple honesty and tenderness of them, the genuine care behind them.
It happened fast, in a blink of an eye, but she felt something beyond the fear, beyond the sadness. It was small, a spark of warmth in the center of her chest, but it was real. It was something bright and soft, something that made her feel alive, despite everything they were facing.
She realized then what it was and how much she’d missed thefeeling—the quiet giddiness, the warmth of shared laughter and gentle touches, the closeness that went beyond words. She felt it now, that small spark of something more, something that was like a whisper of love, a hint of what she’d thought she’d lost.
Holding Chaeyoung close, Mina let herself feel it fully, cherishing the comfort of the moment, the strength she drew from Chaeyoung’s presence. And as they drifted off to sleep, her heart was lighter, her mind quieter, her hands steady by the warmth of Chaeyoung’s embrace and the promise that, no matter what came next, they had each other now. Again.
/////////
She woke up with a choked gasp, her body jolting upright before she even knew where she was. Her chest heaved, her lungs grasping for air that felt too thick, too heavy. The terror clung to her, sharp and suffocating.
His voice was still there, curling around her like a vice, low and cruel. Prove it. The words cut through her mind like a blade. She could feel it—her hands shaking, the sun against her skin, the way the world had seemed to shrink until all that remained was her fear and his eyes, watching.
Her breath hitched, panic clawing at her throat. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t—
But she could still feel it. The weight of his stare, the helplessness sinking into her bones, the way her body refused to move except to obey.
The boat. The gun. The darkness pressing in.
Mina gasped again, her body trembling violently. Her fingers dug into the wood beneath her, searching for something real, something solid. She felt like she was drowning, like she was being dragged back under, swallowed whole—
A touch. Warm, firm. Arms wrapped around her, pulling her in.
“Hey... you’re okay,” Chaeyoung’s voice was soft, but steady. Grounding. “Mina, you’re safe. I’m right here.”
Mina’s breath came in uneven, ragged bursts, but Chaeyoung’s arms didn’t falter. The warmth spreading through, cutting through the terror just enough for her to latch onto it.
She focused on the rhythm of Chaeyoung’s breathing, on the weight of her hand rubbing slow circles on her back. The panic still roared inside her, but she wasn’t alone. She wasn’t there.
She wasn’t there.
Tears slipped down her cheeks before she could stop them. She clenched her fists, trying to steady herself, trying to pull herself out of the nightmare’s grip.
“It was—” Her voice cracked, barely audible. “I thought...I thought I was there again.”
Chaeyoung tightened her hold. “I know,” she whispered. “But you’re not. You’re here, Mina. You’re safe.” She rested her head against Mina’s back. Her hand kept moving, tracing soothing circles against Mina’s skin, grounding her in the present, in the safety of this moment.
Mina let out a shuddering breath, her body sagging as she leaned into Chaeyoung's embrace. Chaeyoung was behind her, a little to the side, her arms firm yet gentle as they kept Mina steady. She could feel the weight of Chaeyoung’s head resting against her shoulder blade, she could feel her breath there. The memory still clung to her, its grip relentless, but this—this was real. Chaeyoung’s body pressed against hers, the steady rise and fall of her breathing, the strength in the way she held on...
Her breathing started slowing letting the last of the memory fade. Replacing it with this moment, anchoring herself in this moment, “I... I don’t know why, but it’s... it’s a little easier now. Being here... staying present here... with you.”
“I’m glad, Mina. I’m just... I’m glad you’re here.”
They stayed wrapped in each other’s warmth for a while, the slow rise and fall of Chaeyoung’s breathing calming Mina, grounding her completely in the present. The memory still lingered, its edges sharp and vivid in her mind, but it was different now—she didn’t feel herself slipping. Instead, she focused on the present, on the weight of Chaeyoung’s arm draped over her, the hands holding her tight.
She didn’t know exactly what had shifted, what made it possible for her to stay here, connected, but she knew it was enough. She didn’t need to question it, she just needed to feel it, to hold onto the peace it gave her.
/////////
The shelter was quiet when Mina felt a rustling near the entrance. She looked up to see Nayeon peeking in, her face softened with sleep, her expression warm and open. “Good morning kids,” she said with a smirk, her voice teasing but affectionate. “Come on, we’re doing breakfast. Might be the best meal we’ve had since... well, you know.”
Chaeyoung stirred at the sound of her voice, blinking her eyes open with a sleepy smile. “Breakfast?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “Did we, like, go back to civilization overnight or something?”
Nayeon laughed, rolling her eyes. “I wish, but no. We’re doing our best with what we’ve got.” She paused, her gaze lingering on Mina. “You’re looking a little more like yourself.”
Mina felt her heart swell at the words, a affirmation of the small progress she’d made. She didn’t know if she looked different, if something had shifted in her face or in her eyes, but she felt it—the calm, a peace she hadn’t felt in days. She smiled Nayeon´s way, a genuine one this time.
Nayeon helped them step out of the shelter, reaching her arms inside to pull the girls out.
She stood there for a moment, feeling the sun on her skin, the sound of the waves in the distance no longer as sharp, no longer as haunting. Chaeyoung stretched beside her, her eyes still sleepy but bright, and Mina felt comfort now in the familiarity of the faces around her.
The other were gathered by the fire already. The scent of roasted fish filled the air, mingling with the fresh morning breeze, and Mina found herself feeling a little lighter, a little more hopeful. She glanced around, taking in the small, scattered smiles, the laughter and the teasing as they settled in for breakfast.
Jihyo glanced up as they approached. “Well, look who finally made it out. We were starting to think you’d set up camp in there.”
Chaeyoung grinned, settling down beside her. "Tempting," she joked, nudging Mina with a playful smile. "But then we’d miss out on this five star breakfast."
Jihyo laughed, holding up a piece of fish on a stick. "Better than canned food, right?"
Mina chuckled, settling down next to Nayeon. There was an ease to it, a familiarity that felt almost second nature. Nayeon shifted slightly as she passed Mina a piece of fish, their arms brushing in a way that felt natural, unspoken. Mina hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this—the casual touch, the quiet understanding that needed no words. She looked at Nayeon’s face, still softened from sleep, her eyes bright in the morning light, and felt a familiar flutter in her chest, a feeling she hadn’t felt in so long.
“Here you go,” Nayeon murmured, passing her a piece of fish. Her gaze lingered, her eyes filled with something warm and gentle. “It’s not exactly gourmet, but...”
Mina took it with a small nod, her fingers brushing against Nayeon’s for the briefest moment. "Thanks," she said. It wasn’t much, wasn’t anything at all, but something about it sat heavy in her chest. The warmth of the fire flickered across Nayeon’s face, catching the soft curve of her features before the moment passed as easily as it came.
They ate together, their voices low and relaxed weaving through the morning air like a familiar melody.
As they finished, they all discussed the day’s plans, Chaeyoung leaned against her, her head resting on Mina’s shoulder as she listened, her weight now a familiar, grounding presence. Mina found herself glancing around at the faces of her friends, feeling the weight of her emotions settle in her chest, something that anchored her in place. The heaviness in her chest still existed, but it no longer threatened to pull her under—it was simply there, something she was learning to carry.
Nayeon caught her eye, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She raised an eyebrow, giving Mina a gentle nudge. “You good?”
“I’m okay,” she replied. She looked around at the group, the familiar faces she’d come to depend on, and felt her heart swell with a warmth she hadn’t felt in so long.
And as she sat there, surrounded by the laughter, by the warmth of friendship and love, she realized that she’d missed this—the messiness, the depth of feeling, the quiet thrill of connection. It wasn’t with fear that her heart raced now. It was with love, with the strong, steady pulse of something she hadn’t dared to hope for.
She looked down at her hands, her heart beating in time with the hum of voices around her, and felt that warmth spread through her. She’d missed how messy her mind could be, not with fear... but with love.