Because it’s completely unfair to expect Sungyeol to prepare all their meals, Sunggyu and Woohyun tackle breakfast together. No one else is up, and Dongwoo’s long since gone to bed after his watch shift is done, which leaves them in the kind of peace that they need.

As Woohyun presses his hands down in the rice, water flowing between his fingers, Sunggyu recalls, “You never told me what your father thought of you coming here. Did you actually even tell him? Or did you just abandon ship?”

Woohyun laughs, “I didn’t go AWOL. Don’t worry. Neither did I make the decision to come to the island five minutes before I did. I was actually up that entire night thinking about it.”

“Good,” Sunggyu says, more than a little relieved. “And you told your father the night before? Or the morning of?”

Woohyun lifts the pan of rice out of the kitchen sink and places it into the cooker. “I told him in the morning. Probably around four. My father is notorious for not sleeping. I went to his cabin, and he was awake doing paperwork, and I told him then.”

Sunggyu scoffs. “I seriously doubt that’s all that happened.”

“Well, he yelled,” Woohyun admits. “He yelled a lot, some about abandoning my responsibilities, and then some about letting my control me. He was very angry.”

Sunggyu freezes at the cutting board, laying the knife down. “He blamed me?”

Woohyun corrects, “He blamed everyone. You. Me. Even himself. But Gyu, I didn’t care what he said. I knew staying on that ship was wrong for me. I told him I was going, and that if he tried to stop me I’d jump overboard and swim my way to shore. Eventually he got the picture.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Woohyun frowns. “For the first time in my life, I made a choice based on what I wanted. I did something for myself, and not for him, or what I thought he expected of me, or any other asinine reason. So don’t be sorry. I’m not.”

Sunggyu nods slowly.

Sunggyu can hear someone moving around in one of the bedrooms, probably getting dressed for the day, and Woohyun says, “We need to pick up some of our rations today, among other things.”

“That’s what you and Sungyeol are going to do today,” Sunggyu tells him. “Take Jiyeon with you for extra sympathy. And see if you can find some detergent anywhere. I don’t know if that’s high on anyone’s list of priorities, but we have a baby, and that means a lot of laundry. We can string a line up outside to dry our clothes, but we need soap or detergent to wash them.”

Woohyun says, “Okay, but if that’s what you want Sungyeol and I to do, what about you?”

Sunggyu squares his shoulders. “I’m going to get some information on Hoya today. Mark my words. And with any luck,. I’ll bring him back with me.”

“You think anyone is going to tell you anything about the other refugees? Especially after Dongwoo got stonewalled yesterday?”

Sunggyu has never felt such determination. “I dare someone to try and stop me.”

Woohyun regards him for a minute, then crosses to where’s standing. He puts his hands on Sunggyu’s shoulders and says, “Take Dongwoo with you. I don’t want you going anywhere alone. We’re employing the buddy system, remember?”

“I don’t need Dongwoo to be my buddy,” Sunggyu says stiffly.

“And no matter how safe the soldiers want us to feel, you and I know the truth. So take Dongwoo, or I’ll spend the whole time being worried. Okay?”

It’s strange, Sunggyu thinks, to have someone worry over him the way Woohyun does. It’s honestly a little thrilling, knowing it’s not just because they’re friends, but also because he’s in Woohyun’s heart.

“Fine,” Sunggyu says, pushing at him. “Now get out of my way. I need to finish before the others get up.”

Woohyun sneaks a kiss to the back of his head. “Okay.”

The have breakfast twenty minutes later, and half an hour after that, everyone is up and dressed for the day.

“What about me?” Sungjong asks when Sunggyu tells everyone what they’ll be doing for the day. “Do I just stay here? I could watch Jiyeon, you know. I’m big enough. Or I could go with you to find Hoya, Sunggyu.”

Sunggyu palms the back of Sungjong’s head and says, “What you need to do, while being very careful, is act like a kid. I know I saw at least two or three other kids your age. Go play with them. At least until one of us gets back to the cabin.”

Sungjong crosses his arms. “I don’t want to go play. I want to be useful.”

Dongwoo wrestles Sungjong up into a tight hug. “You’re like the only kid I’ve ever met

in my life who doesn’t want to go out and play. What’s wrong with you?”

Sungjong pushes angrily at him. “Nothing’s wrong with me!”

Sunggyu sighs. “Dongwoo, stop acting less mature than Sungjong who’s twelve.”

“Then I can do something to help?” Sungjong pleads.

Sunggyu nods. “You can go with Sungyeol and Woohyun. But you have to be on your best behavior and do whatever they say. They’re in charge.”

Woohyun shrugs, Sungyeol looks indifferent, and the huge grin on Sungjong’s face makes Sunggyu want to return it. But rather the thing that catches Sunggyu’s attention, and won’t let go, is how he’s suddenly become the leader. Well, maybe not suddenly, because it’s a gradual build in his opinion, but there’s no mistaking that he’s calling the shots. The others may disagree with him, but they let him make the decisions and his word seems to be final. Sunggyu’s never really been much of a leaders, but it’s a role he now finds himself enjoying.

There’s something kind of thrilling about the kind of responsibility of taking care of the people around him.

And terrifying.

A little later on they leave the house in one big group. Sunggyu carefully passes the electronic cardkey to their cabin over to Woohyun and says, “If Dongwoo and I are back before you, we’ll find you down in the main area. Don’t lose this, okay?” There’s an icy fear griping at Sunggyu’s throat over leaving behind all of their possessions. Or rather, all of their supplies. Things can be replaced. Food is invaluable.

“I’ve got it,” Woohyun promises, sliding the keycard into his pocket. “And I already made sure all the windows were locked up tight. I can see what you’re thinking, Sunggyu. It’s written all over your face. Stop worrying so much.”

Sunggyu would like to, but having Jiyeon around kind of makes him feel like a dad. He wonders if this is how Sungyeol feels all the time. The urge to protect her, and make sure she has everything, and Sungjong too, is almost overwhelming.

“Be careful,” is what Sunggyu replies.

He can tell Woohyun wants to kiss him again, mainly from the way Woohyun’s fingers twitch at his sides. Because Woohyun has this annoying habit of wanting to frame Sunggyu’s face while they kiss like Sunggyu is a girl. And in general Woohyun is too tactile for Sunggyu’s tastes, but at least he seems to exhibit some self control when he senses how irritated Sunggyu gets over the matter.

The only thing Woohyun says before they part isn’t even to Sunggyu. Instead he looks Dongwoo in eye and says, “You had better not let anything happen to him, or I’m holding you personally responsible.”

It’s a little condescending of Woohyun to think that Sunggyu needs to be taken care of. And Woohyun also seems to think that Sunggyu is some damsel in distress, or just waiting to be taken advantage of. Sunggyu would very much like for Woohyun to wise up that Sunggyu is capable and smart and not in need of a second older brother.

“I’m going now,” Sunggyu says, pulling at Dongwoo. He twists Woohyun’s previous words and says, “Woohyun, you make sure nothing happens to the others. Or I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

Sungyeol protests, “I’m not one of the kids, you know.”

An impossibly wide grin is on Woohyun’s face. “Point taken, Gyu.”

Maybe Sunggyu doesn’t give Woohyun enough credit.

Dongwoo says, after they’ve been walking for a couple of minutes, the path climbing upward towards the checkpoint, “You and Woohyun are really weird.”

After thinking it over for a second, Sunggyu tells him, “We speak the same language.”

Dongwoo mumbles, “We all speak Korean, Sunggyu.”

With the checkpoint coming into view, Sunggyu can only shake his head. “That’s not what I mean.”

Sunggyu isn’t entirely sure what to expect at the checkpoint, but he’s honestly not surprised that he’s met by hostile men, assault rifles strapped to their chests, and very few answers to the multitude of questions he has.

“Look,” Sunggyu tells what looks to be the soldier in charge of the others, “we were told coming here that we would be allowed to apply for day passes to leave. Are you telling me now that that isn’t true? Are you in the habit of lying to us?” He doesn’t mean to be so aggressive, not against men with guns, but if he can get back to the port, maybe he can find out where Hoya’s been relocated to.

“Sir,” the soldier returns, his hand pointedly on the base of his gun. “Please return to the designated civilian area.”

Sunggyu narrows his eyes. “I want to apply for a day pass.”

“Day passes aren’t currently being issued. Please return to your designated civilian area.”

Dongwoo cuts in, “Are we prisoners here?”

Some of the soldiers, obviously the ones that understand Korean, laugh. It only makes Sunggyu’s blood boil as he snaps, “I think my friend has a valid question, considering how before we were brought here, we were told that leaving was an option, if given permission. Do you have a logical reason for denying me permission? That is what you’re doing, right?”

Some of the soldiers say things to each other in Japanese, and Sunggyu has no doubt he’s the content in question. Then the leaders says, “I suggest that you do as I say, and return to the designated civilian area. You have no idea how lucky you are. Go and be thankful.”

“I have no idea?” Sunggyu scoffs. “Listen here, you pompous, condescending, uncooperative--”

“What’s going on here?”

Immediately something shifts in the air. Even Sunggyu, who’s all worked up and ready to go toe to toe, feels it.

Around the checkpoint’s booth steps a tall man, taller than average, in full military uniform, face stern. He’s older than Sunggyu, probably by ten years or more, and commands authority at once.

Before any of the soldiers can speak their mind, Sunggyu takes a deliberate step forward, clears his throat, and says, “I was told by one of your fellow military personnel that day passes were available to civilians who requested them. I waited a full day, I arrived yesterday, and now I’d like to apply for that pass. However I’m being told now to go back to the designated civilian area. I will not go back to the designated civilian area, not until I have my pass, or I have a valid reason as to why I can’t have it.”

Sunggyu squints a little at the medals and badges pinned to the man’s chest, but he knows nothing about the Japanese military, and so they mean nothing to him. However there are a lot of them, so he must be important, and it’s obvious that the men around them are quiet in their deference.

The man gives nothing away as he asks, “You want to apply for a day pass. To where?”

At least there’s communication. Sunggyu can’t ask for anything else at the moment.

“I need to go back to the port where we were processed through. I had a group of people, a group of friends, and one of them was separated. I need to find out where he went, and why he isn’t with us now.”

Flatly, the man asks, “Was he priority listed?”

Sunggyu rolls his eyes. “That priority list is a load of crap.”

There’s an odd inflexion in the man’s voice when he responds, “You can feel free to have such an opinion, but you should also be very thankful you were on it.”

Next to them, Dongwoo puts his hands on his hips and asks, “What’s with all this being thankful stuff?”

Sunggyu feels his resolve slipping a little, faced with another unmovable brick wall. “Please. The person I was separated from is very important to me. I just need to know where he went and if he’s okay. I need to see him.” He leaves out that there is no way he isn’t bringing Hoya back with him from wherever he is.

Sunggyu fully expects the man to treat him like a child, or maybe an idiot, and order him to go back to the designated civilian area. But instead he looks Sunggyu over, very overtly from head to toe, then asks for his name.

“Kim Sunggyu,” he says, “and I won’t be pushed away or given the run around. I’ll be here every second of every day, bugging anyone I can find until I get the answers I deserve. I will be your most annoying nightmare.”

Dongwoo crosses his arms and nods seriously. “Don’t test him. Sunggyu is crazy good at being annoying.”

Dongwoo’s words are enough to earn him a cuff over the back of the head, but they add to Sunggyu’s image, so he lets it slide. He’ll deal with Dongwoo later.

In perfect Korean, the kind that’s so without an accent that he must have spent a good deal of time in the country, the commander tells Sunggyu, “Come with me.”

This is not what Sunggyu is expecting to hear, and it throws him completely for a loop. He looks to Dongwoo who seems equally unsure. “Come with you? Just me?”

Dongwoo grabs Sunggyu suddenly, and it’s the strongest, most aggressive he’s ever been. “Sunggyu,” he whispers, his voice fierce. “You’re not thinking for a second of going anywhere with him, are you?”

The man is looking highly impatient as Sunggyu asks Dongwoo, “How else am I going to find out about Hoya?”

Dongwoo shakes his head. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

This is the only option Sunggyu has. He carefully pulls his arm from Dongwoo’s grasp and says, “I won’t be long. I promise.”

“Woohyun would kill me if I let you.”

“You’re not my daddy,” Sunggyu snaps, “and neither is he. Go back to the cabin, find Woohyun, or hang out here until I get back. It’s your choice, but I’m going.”

The man, Sunggyu still doesn’t know his name, takes him past the checkpoint, and actually up the curving road to a nearby building. Sunggyu missed it on the drive in. It’s two stories high, painted a soft yellow, and partially hidden by the trees and greenery around them. There are half a dozen soldiers mulling around when they approach, but they quickly snap to attention and give a proper salute.

Sunggyu ends up in a small office, one of many, seated in a worn thin but clean chair, nursing a cup of ice cold orange juice.

“Sorry,” the man says, gesturing to the cup with the least severe looks Sunggyu has seen on his face. “I’d offer you more than just orange juice, but honestly we’re trying to get rid of the large shipment that came in just before the world went to . And neither do you look old enough to consume any of the alcohol that some of the men have been trying to withhold from the civilian population.”

Sunggyu looks down at his glass of orange juice. He doesn’t drink it. “Why can’t I have my day pass?”

The man asks, “You don’t like orange juice?”

Sunggyu makes a deliberate show of reaching forward to set his orange juice on the desk in front of him. Then he asks, “Did you lose everyone?”

Startled, the man’s head . “Excuse me?”

“When the … infection spread? Did you lose your parents? Siblings? Someone you love? Because I lost almost everyone that I love, and the same can be said for my friends. Probably you, too. I’m only saying this because I want you to understand how important people are to each other now. I have a friend out there, and I have to find him. That’s why I’m bugging your men. That’s why I’m bugging you. I have to find my friend and I won’t stop until I do. I won’t lose anyone else, if it can be helped even a little.”

“Drink your orange juice.” The man settles back into his seat, which looks much more comfortable than Sunggyu’s own chair. “And yes, I lost plenty of people I cared for.

But neither will saying things like that make you seem special. Everyone is sharing the same experience of loss.”

Sunggyu’s fingers curl around the cool glass. “I’m not saying that to get special treatment, okay? I’m saying it so you’ll understand my position. I’m sorry you’re so offended by the proposition of empathy.”

Surprisingly, a smile cracks along the man’s face. It looks a little out of place at first, but then more like he simply doesn’t do it enough for it to be commonplace.

“You’re an interesting guy, Kim Sunggyu.”

“And I don’t even know your name.”

The man flicks his nametag, but it’s written in kanji, which means to Sunggyu. It may as well be written in French, or English or any other language he can’t decipher.

Finally, in his flawless Korean, he says, “Watanabe Kenji.”

“Your Korean is perfect. Why?” Sunggyu sounds suspicious, but he’s honestly intrigued.

“Because,” Kenji says easily enough, “my mother was Korean and my father was Japanese. They met, fell love, and as people do, had a baby. My Korean is so good because my father was a military man, and my mother raised me in Korea during his years of service. I moved back to Japan with her when I was a teenager, but my heart has always belonged to Korea.”

In a move of something akin to a show of good faith, Sunggyu takes a long drink from the glass in front of him, then asks once more, “Why can’t I have a day pass?”

Humorously, Kenji leans forward and asks, “Do you think there’s some giant conspiracy going on here? Or that you’re more prisoner than survivor?”

“I know I was promised something that can be likened to a personal freedom, and it’s now being denied to me without a reasonable explanation.”

“You know,” Kenji says, “if you’d asked for a day pass a week from now, it would’ve been granted without so much as a fuss. The reason you weren’t given one today is for your safety, and for the safety of the people around you.”

Sunggyu snorts. Loudly.

“Do you actually realize you aren’t the most important person on this island?” Kenji inquires.

The question catches Sunggyu, makes him freeze, and then makes him feel a little ashamed. “Why … would it be dangerous?”

Kenji replied, “Because you might have come to the island yesterday, but there are still three ships scheduled to disembark their civilian load before sunset tonight. After that happens this island will be at around max capacity, just under eight thousand. That means eight thousand scared, confused people. The survivors are shellshocked and barely functioning, and the previous residents of this island are now forced to mix in with them, not speaking their language, not understanding what they’ve experienced. This is a breeding ground of trouble. You’re expected to stay in your designated civilian area so that the military can get a lock on the problem areas and set in place routine for everyone. Once things quiet down, maybe in a day or two, safety precautions will ease up.”

The thing is, it make such terrible sense that Sunggyu understands completely.

But Kenji presses anyway, “What do you think would happen if you just went wandering off on your own? You could end up stumbling into one of the several native residential areas around here. You wouldn’t be able to communicate with the people there and you’d likely only bring tension to an already explosive situation. Let the military do their job, Kim Sunggyu. Let them ease the residents into your presence, and let the military hold the civilians together for a little longer.”

Sunggyu asks, “What about all this priority nonsense?”

There’s a map of the island behind Kenji, and he points to one specific area. “This is where we are. We’re one of seven priority areas. Being a priority civilian simply means that you were granted first access to your new home, and it’s in a more desirable location. Your friend, the one you look for, made it safely onto the island. I can promise you that. But he’s likely clustered up with others further inland.”

“When will I be able to go see him?” Sunggyu asks this because he knows he can’t go back to Sungjong, who’s so utterly attached to Hoya, without a straight answer. He has to have something for the boy to cling to.

Kenji’s smile stretches even further. “You’re kind of relentless, you know?”

Sunggyu takes another sip of the juice. “Determined.”

Rocking on his feet a little, Kenji says “Once the last of the civilians are offloaded, and my superiors feel that it’s time to start merging the civilian population with the native population, then you’ll be allowed to leave.”

Carefully, his tone even, Sunggyu asks, “If I try to leave without a day pass, or before they’re being issued, what will happen to me?”

Blankly, Kenji says, “Are you alluding to the possibility that you’ll be shot on sight, or something worse?”

Sunggyu shrugs.

“Maybe you’ve been missing the key phrasing when people tell you that you’re being referred to as survivors. My men and I are here to protect you, not punish you. We have these rules for your protection, and yes, there will be consequences to breaking them, but we are all very aware of how few people are actually left. We can’t afford to lose any of you. Humanity can’t.”

Sunggyu sighs out, feeling defeated, “Okay.” What else can he say? He’s asked for a logical reason as to why he can’t go gallivanting off to play hero, and he’s received not only the reason, but even more additional information. He has what he wanted, it just hasn’t left him feeling satisfied in any way.

“Any more questions?” Kenji asks.

Sunggyu shakes his head, clamoring up to his feet. “I … want to say I’m sorry. I want to apologize. I was quick to judge. I made a mistake.”

Kenji rounds the desk quick, coming to stand next to Sunggyu. Sunggyu is a little tall compared to the others his age, but Kenji is even taller. But his height doesn’t make Sunggyu feel nervous in any way. It’s almost a comfort, and gone is the unease the man had initially bought with him.

“You truly are an interesting person, Kim Sunggyu. I’m going to enjoy getting to know you better.”

Sunggyu thumbs towards the door. “I need to get back. My other friend will start to worry.”

The warm hand on his elbow, keeping him in place, is the last thing Sunggyu expects. But without warning Kenji is too close, in his personal space, and guiding him back to the desk.

The older man all but orders, “I want you to write down your friend’s name. Tell me what ship he came from, and a brief description. I might be able to get a fix on where he is for you.”

With a shaking hand Sunggyu does as requested. He tries to remember every little detail from Hoya’s appearance he can, also trying to ignore how he’s slightly hunched over. He’s vulnerable to Kenji who’s behind him, still too close, now going on about his favorite things from Korea.

Before Sunggyu can leave, before he can slip out the door, Kenji tells him, “I’m going to give finding this friend of yours a go. If I do, I’ll contact you. Which cabin are you staying in?”

Sunggyu fights to keep his breathing normal. “I’m in cabin twenty.” He almost says with his boyfriend. He almost brings Woohyun up, if only to get Kenji, who’s looking even more interested in him, off his back. But maybe Kenji will be less likely to help if he thinks Sunggyu is taken. Sunggyu can’t say for sure, but until he has Hoya with him, safe and sound, he can’t risk anything.

“Can you find your way back?” Kenji asks, looking over what Sunggyu’s written down.

Sunggyu is out the door, bowing hastily, before Kenji can even finish. His heart is racing, and certainly not from the run.

Dongwoo is waiting for him back at the checkpoint. He seems no worse for wear, and if anything, smug.

The Japanese soldiers are grumbling something that can’t be good as Sunggyu and Dongwoo head back to the main area.

“What was that all about?” Sunggyu asks, tipping his head back to enjoy the sun. It’s summer now and while the heat isn’t sweltering, it’s enough that the beach a mere walk’s distance away, is starting to look better and better. Even from a distance Sunggyu can see some people splashing in the water, and others sunbathing.

“That?” Dongwoo asks with a shrug. “That’s just the sound of sore losers. All of them.”

“Dongwoo,” Sunggyu eases out, feeling like someone’s mother. “What did you do?”

Dongwoo looks affronted. “They had the cards, okay! They offered to let me play while we waited. And let me tell you, poker is a universal language. No translation needed.”

Sunggyu doesn’t know whether to be disappointed, or approve. “What’d you get from them?”

It’s more than a little impressive, actually. Dongwoo’s managed to score an obscene amount of ration cards, a few pieces of jewelry, am expensive looking pocket knife and one watch that is most certainly a Rolex.

“You did all this in twenty minutes?” Sunggyu asks with awe.

Dongwoo doesn’t seem to think it’s that big a deal. “I’m good with cards, Sunggyu. You already know that. And I think I got myself invited to their Friday night games. They seem to want the opportunity to win back some of their stuff, but I think I can get more from them. At least more ration cards. That seems to be the currency around here now, and even the soldiers are operating on that method.”

Sunggyu can’t help but think about the natives to the island. They’re used to a money based currency. Are they upholding it? Or have they switched to the ration cards as well, given that they’re now completely cut off from Japan.

“Did you find out about Hoya?” Dongwoo asks, displeasure on his face. “I still think you took a chance going off with that guy. He looked like a creeper.”

“Watanabe,” Sunggyu corrects. “His name is Watanabe Kenji, and he was actually pretty helpful.” Also creepy, at least towards the end, but Sunggyu won’t share this with Dongwoo, primarily out of fear that it will get back to Woohyun somehow. “He told me why we can’t have day passes right now, and honestly, Dongwoo, I believe him. It makes sense. But he let me write down Hoya’s name, and all his information, and he’s going to try and find him for us. I don’t think he was just placating me, either.”

“So we’re going to find Hoya?”

Sunggy nods. “No matter what, we’re going to find Hoya.”

Dongwoo laughs. “God help anyone who gets in your way, I guess.”

They make it back to the cabin fairly easily, and a good portion of Sunggyu is relieved to see that it’s empty, quiet, and seemingly still secure. Their shoes, a little muddy from the day before, are still lined up on the porch, and the door is still firmly locked. They only have one keycard and it’s currently in Woohyun’s possession, but Sunggyu is content enough to simply sit on the front steps and just wait.

“Do you think your brother and the others are gone now? Myungsoo?”

Sunggyu can’t help kicking out at the ground in front of him. “Probably.” He doesn’t really want to think about it. “Yunho said they were leaving as soon as the last of the civilians were off the ship. At least the ones who didn’t choose to stay on and become military.”

Dongwoo drops to the spot next to Sunggyu. “I’m kind of surprised you didn’t stay. You know, to be with your brother, and you thought Woohyun was going to stay at the time. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you wanted to stay, or if you regretted not staying now.”

Sunggyu can only say honestly, “My heart wasn’t in it. Yunho understood, even if I knew he didn’t like it. And in the end, maybe he even changed his mind and thought it was for the better. But I do feel sorry for Sungyeol and Myungsoo. They had a chance, but time and distance from my brother isn’t going to change how I feel about him. It’s different in terms of romantic love.”

And the more Sunggyu thinks about it, the less he’s bothered by the age difference between the two of them. Sungyeol will be sixteen in less than a week, and four years isn’t the biggest age difference ever. There’s ten years difference between Sunggyu’s parents, and they’re living in a new world now. Life is fragile. Getting married at fifteen, almost sixteen, isn’t so much of a stretch. The blow is softened even further by how much of a gentleman Myungsoo apparently is.

“I don’t think we’ll see them for a long time,” Dongwoo says. “Maybe not until there’s a cure.”

“If there’s a cure,” Sunggyu corrects.

People pass by them with the kind of ease that Sunggyu isn’t used to seeing. They’re clustered in small groups for the most part, with only a few people lingering by themselves, and they’re completely at peace. Some are headed to the water, others to the large recreational area just around the corner. A lot of them are dressed in beach wear now, while others are carrying around their ration distribution. So far it’s smooth sailing, not that Sunggyu doesn’t think things can’t change in an instant.

From near cabin eighteen Sunggyu sees Yongguk, his brother, and Himchan talking with a couple of other people. Yunguk offers him a big wave, probably to match his big personality, and Sunggyu waves back.

“We’re stuck in a ty zombie apocalypse,” Dongwoo says. “I’m not having kids in a ty zombie apocalypse. There has to be a cure.”

It surprises Sunggyu that Dongwoo’s thinking about having kids, which means he’s thinking about growing old. But then it also doesn’t surprise Sunggyu that Dongwoo’s holding out hope for a cure. Dongwoo’s always been optimistic. In a lot of ways, Sunggyu counts on his optimism to counterbalance his own pessimism.

“Maybe someone will come up with a cure,” Sunggyu says, not wanting to impact Dongwoo with his own sentiments. “Maybe you’re right.”

They sit out on the porch, enjoying the weather and each other’s company for at least another forty minutes before Woohyun’s form comes strolling up the path. Sungyeol is in tow, each of them carrying two large bags of rations, and Sungjong is keeping up easily with an active Jiyeon in his arms.

“Everything go okay?” Sunggyu asks the second Woohyun is close enough. He slips his hand into Woohyung’s pocket to pull out the cardkey and opens the door to their cabin for the group.

“I should be asking you that instead,” Woohyun says. He and Sungyeol place their bags on the small kitchen table and inside Sunggyu can see enough food to get them through a week. It’s maybe even more than they need, but it calms him in way, and it’s one less worry to have.

Sungjong is quick to put Jiyeon down on the soft carpet of the living room before quickly making his way to Sunggyu. There’s a small basket in the corner of the room with Jiyeon’s toys, and not much else she can get into, so Sunggyu isn’t worried too much about letting her out of sight.

“Did you find out about Hoya? Did you get to talk to him?” Sungjong’s voice is a little pitchy, relatively normal for his age and the onset of puberty.

Sungyeol and Woohyun are unpacking all the food into the cabinets, and Dongwoo seems to be doing his best to get into something right away, but Sunggyu can tell they’re all listening.

“I made some progress with finding Hoya,” Sunggyu promises Sungjong. The kid is too wide eyed and adorable for his own good. He makes Sunggyu want to march right back out to Watanabe and demand faster progress, no matter how illogical the request. If Sungjong ever figures out how adorable he is they’re all going to be in for a world of trouble.

“Then …” Sungjong’s face falls. “He’s not coming back today?”

Sunggyu passes a comforting hand over Sungjong’s bangs. “All the people from our ship were placed into different residential areas, spread out all over the island. We were just lucky enough to end up together. It’s not safe to go wandering around right now, but I have a friend who’s going to find where Hoya went to. And the second it’s safe, we’re going to go get him. It’ll just be a couple of days. You have to be patient. I don’t like it any more than you, but there’s nothing we can do right now. Do you understand?”

It’s a reflection on Sungjong’s maturity the way he gives a solemn nod and then heads off to the room he’s been sharing with Sungyeol and Jiyeon. He leaves the door cracked, but Sunggyu can understand he need for privacy, so he doesn’t go after him.

“Friend?” Woohyun asks.

Dongwoo cuts in, before Sunggyu can say anything, “I wouldn’t call him a friend. He’s just this guy, a commander or lieutenant or whatever, who wanted to talk to Sunggyu alone. Maybe Sunggyu’s more charming than we give him credit for, because I guess this guy is going to help us find Hoya.”

This time Sunggy has no patience for Dongwoo’s mouth. He hits him fairly hard over the back of the head.

“Oww!!!” Dongwoo wails dramatically. “Sunggyu!”

Woohyun asks, “What happened exactly?”

Sunggyu does his best to explain, trying to make the whole situation seem as docile as possible.

Sungyeol leans over the sink to open the window and get a breeze going in the warm house. “Do you really think this guy can get us to Hoya? Or get Hoya to us?”

“Maybe,” Sunggyu says realistically. “I don’t know for sure.”

Quietly, Sungyeol reminds, “Sungjong will be devastated if he can’t see Hoya soon.”

“True,” Sunggyu muses, “ but maybe he just need something to distract him right now.” Through the window he can still just barely see Yougguk. He and the rest of his group are all dressed in swim trunks and carrying towels. It’s easy to see they’re planning on heading to the beach.

“Like what?” Woohyun asks.

“Like that.” Sunggyu nods down to the beach. “A swim in the water and a chance to play with the other kids here might perk him up a little.”

Wearily, Sungyeol says, “Jiyeon needs to go down for a nap soon, and I don’t really like the sand or the water. I’ll stay here, if you all want to go.”

Dongwoo nods excitedly as Woohyun says, “That’s not a bad idea.”

This is how Sunggyu finds himself at the beach fifteen minutes later. Sungjong and Dongwoo are playing in the water like they’re both closer to Sungjong’s age, and Sunggyu is happy enough to sit on a soft towel and enjoy burying his toes in the warm sand.

“I just realized something,” Woohyun says from next to Sunggyu.

“What’s that?”

Woohyun lays back on his towel and a smile plays on his face. “In spite of everything, this isn’t too bad. Me, you, our friends, plenty of food and the beach? I could get used to this.”

It’s stupid to think things will be this way forever, but as Sunggyu turns to appreciate the way Woohyun’s arms look in his sleeveless shirt, he agrees. “This isn’t so bad.”