Sunggyu does his best to turn into a hermit crab. In light of the hole he’s dug himself into, this seems like the best solution for everyone. So he passes on his shower time that night, barely cracks his door open enough to accept his dinner meal, and doesn’t so much as make a sound for the rest of the night.

He doesn’t sleep, either, too caught up in the idea that he’s endangered his brother some how.

People are petty. This is a truth that Sunggyu knows all too well. People are petty to a severe degree, and if they feel they’ve been slighted, they’ll do whatever it takes to get back at who they find fault with.

Following this stream of logic, Sunggyu assumes that Woohyun, who is nothing but a pretty face on a horrible human being, has told his father about their encounter. And of Sunggyu’s snappy reply. Maybe he’s even twisted Sunggyu’s words, or invented some more. And it won’t matter if it’s the truth or not, because Sunggyu’s word can’t possibly be valued over the captain’s son’s.

The only shred of hope that Sunggyu has is possibly that Woohyun doesn’t know who he is. Sunggyu never said his name. Maybe Woohyun doesn’t know who to blame for the slight.

He thinks about these things all night long, and the look of disappointment that will be on Yunho’s face when Sunggyu tells him. Sunggyu will have to tell him, certainly before Captain Nam calls on them.

And he means to. He means to confess to everything when Yunho collapses on the bed next to Sunggyu very late into the night. But Yunho, even in the poor light of the cabin, looks exhausted. There’s something so vulnerable in the way he curls into Sunggyu’s side, throwing an obligatory arm around him, asking in a scratchy, worn voice, “Did you get to see Dongwoo today?”

Sunggyu nods, breathing deep. He accuses, “You’re wearing yourself so thin, Yunho.”

Yunho confesses, “This ship runs at capacity with three other people in my current position. The four of us work in tandem to keep the ship safe from threats that the eye can’t see. But the other three didn’t make it, and this isn’t the kind of position you can train someone to be competent on in a couple of days. So it’s only me. I’m the only one who can do this.”

Yunho’s skin is pallid, and his hair limp. He smells like he hasn’t showered in days and the way he sags against Sunggyu is horribly telling.

“How long can you rest for?” Sunggyu asks, wedged between his brother and the wall. It takes him a second more to come to the decision that he can’t simply lie there and do nothing. He skillfully climbs over Yunho and then presses him onto his stomach. Then he climbs back on his brother, helps him strip off his shirt, and begins to carefully work out the knots in his back.

Yunho gives the deepest sigh of appreciation Sunggyu has ever heard. Sleepily, he mumbles, “That feels great.”

“Can you stay the whole night?” Sunggyu asks, fingers pressing down on a particularly hard knot at Yunho’s right shoulder.

“Sunrise,” Yunho grunts out.

A quick look to the clock on the small table between the two cots says sunrise is only a few hours away. It’s not nearly enough time for Yunho to recover from his long, sometimes twenty hour days. Has Yunho even had the time to eat recently? Sunggyu isn’t so sure. He’s stopped seeing Yunho at meal times, and with Yunho’s bare skin under his fingers, he feels slimmer than usual. The muscle is still there, but it feels less defined, almost atrophied.

“Am I pushing too hard?” Sunggyu asks when Yunho groans suddenly.

“No, no,” his brother assures. “This feels great.” He makes a joke about Sunggyu rubbing his feet next, but there’s a laugh attached, which means he doesn’t really expect anything.

After a few more minutes of rubbing, Sunggyu inquires, “Are you falling asleep?” Sometimes he and Yunho lay in the silence together, appreciating that the both of them are alive, and the quiet is enough. But other times Yunho wants to talk and never stop talking, mostly to reassure either himself or Sunggyu that talking means breathing.

“No,” Yunho says.

“Because,” Sunggyu starts, so ashamed of his behavior now, “I have to tell you something.”

Yunho makes an indescribable sound.

Sunggyu hurries to say, “I just want you to know, before you try to squeeze the life out of me or something, that I really didn’t mean to. I’m really sorry--not for what I said, but for saying it at all. I wasn’t thinking. I let my anger get the best of me, and I think I made trouble for us.”

Yunho is quiet, obviously waiting for Sunggyu to continue.

“There was a boy,” Sunggyu says with a wince. “He was disrespecting a cadet, you know him, Seungri. And all the sudden all I could think about was him disrespecting you, or anyone else who put their lives on the line to save the few who could be saved. I just got so angry, so I yelled at him. I was rude to him, which I do regret. I just didn’t know who he was until Seungri told me.”

Sunggyu’s hands still, and he lightens his touch from his brother’s back. Yunho is going to be furious with him. He’ll scold Sunggyu severely. But it’s a punishment Sunggyu readily accepts, along with full responsibility. He’ll also be the one begging Captain Nam, if need be, to spare Yunho from any retaliatory action.

“That boy, Yunho, it was Woohyun. The captain’s son. I must have made him so mad, and he’s probably gone to his father by now. I’m so sorry. You told me to stay out of trouble. You trusted that I wouldn’t, and I’ve gone and ruined everything.”

Sunggyu holds his breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

He dares to hedge out, “Yunho?”

Yunho is still quiet, which probably means Yunho is too disappointed to even give him a proper response. The idea makes Sunggyu’s heart stutter.

“I know you’re mad at me. So mad. And disappointed. I just …”

Yunho gives off a soft snore.

Sunggyu pauses, a little stunned. “Yunho?”

His brother snores again, this time a little louder, and Sunggyu’s shoulders slump in response.

He can’t lie. He’s utterly relieved that he can put off making his brother so disappointed in him for one more day. And maybe it’s better this way. Yunho can get at least a couple solid hours of sleep before he has to start yelling at Sunggyu to start acting like an adult, raising his stress level and blood pressure.

Slowly, so not to disturb Yunho, Sunggyu tips himself to the side, laying back down next to him. Yunho sleeping safely next to him should be enough to put him to sleep, but for hours Sunggyu is awake, thinking and worrying.

Eventually, however, he does fall asleep. Not even he can resist the need to rest.

As if to compensate for his restless night, Sunggyu sleeps late. He sleeps far past the morning hours, and Yunho is long gone by the time Sunggyu rolls out of bed with bleary eyes.

It only takes a few seconds for the previous day to come back to him, and he’s still as terrified as before.

He spends the day worrying over everything he can, obsessed with the idea that soldiers will be at his door any second, ready to drag him to the brig. Or just toss him overboard.

He’s convinced.

But by the time Dongwoo’s being released from the infirmary, and Seungri is there to him to the infirmary, Sunggyu is maybe just a little less frantic and a lot more willing to venture out of his cabin.

Dongwoo looks a million times better as Sunggyu watches him put his shoes on. His shoulder is free from the sling it had been in before, and his coloring is much more natural. He’s still got his fingers tapped together, and won’t be able to use them for likely a month or more, but he’s whole and overall healthy and he’s ready to go with Sunggyu right away.

“Get me out of here,” Dongwoo pleads jokingly, tugging playfully on Sunggyu’s sleeve.

“Let go,” Sunggyu snaps, trying to pull away, “or I’ll leave you here.”

Dongwoo lets go right away, leaning forward to whisper, “They wouldn’t let me shower here. Sunggyu, you haven’t known hell until a middle aged man has given you a sponge bath. Get me out of here now.”

“Okay, okay,” Sunggyu says, pulling Dongwoo up to his feet. “Let’s get out of here.”

Seungri gives the both of them a cheerful wave when he drops them back off at the cabin, and Sunggyu is sure to mumble at Dongwoo that Seungri is what he’s starting to consider an asset. Then he’s closing the door and turning back to the room that’s long since become their safe place.

There’s something on Yunho’s bed.

Dongwoo unceremoniously drops onto Changmin’s bunk and lays back, remarking, “It’s good to be home.”

“Look,” Sunggyu says, slapping at Dongwoo’s thigh. He points to his bed where a tiny bath caddy is perched. Sunggyu regards it from a distance, almost convinced that it’ll explode on him or something. He’s clearly becoming delusional along with his paranoia.

“Is that …” Dongwoo leans forward, squinting, “soap? And shampoo?”

Carefully Sunggyu looks inside the caddy, saying, “It is.” Inside the little nook is two bars of fresh smelling soap, a modest sized bottle of quality shampoo, a smaller but much appreciated can of shaving cream, and three brand new razors. There’s also a travel sized grooming kit tucked to the side.

“Are we all getting one?” Dongwoo asks, excited. He looks around wildly for his own. “Where’s mine?”

Maybe it’s for Yunho, Sunggyu mentions to Dongwoo. Yunho is an officer and therefore has access to better things than the general population.

“It’s like Christmas,” Dongwoo crones.

“Or someone’s birthday.” Though neither Sunggyu nor Yunho’s birthday is anywhere near the current date.

It’s a little sad that the something they’re both getting excited over is soap, but it’s something to be revered in consideration of what they’ve been using. The standard issue soap they’ve been subjected to smells suspiciously like gasoline, and while it might clean them, it certainly doesn’t make them smell good. The shampoo is even worse, leaving Sunggyu’s hair feeling dry and brittle.

Sunggyu doesn’t even want to think about the previous single razor he’s been relegated to. He shaves every morning, but his skin seems perpetually irritated by the low quality blade. And shaving with cheap soap isn’t advisable either.

Dongwoo shouts, “There’s even aftershave!” He plucks out a blue bottle and demands, “Who got this for you?”

Sunggyu shakes his head. He honestly doesn’t have a clue. He does say to Dongwoo, “While you were in the infirmary, I guess some kind of deal was reached between South Korea, Japan and Taiwan. We got some supplies recently. Maybe these kinds of supplies were part of the agreement.”

Dongwoo purses his lips, then questions, “The world goes to , the last of humanity is struggling to survive, and you think someone had time enough to run over to the local store and pick up some shampoo?”

Sunggyu shrugs. “How else would you explain this?”

“Your brother,” Dongwoo supposes.

At the mention of Yunho, Sunggyu feels guilty to have received such a gift. He can only hope it’s a care package intended for Yunho. Sunggyu can’t begin to think he deserves something after being so rude to the captain’s son.

His hopes are dashed when Dongwoo discovers a simple card addressed to Sunggyu that urges him to make use of the products. It isn’t signed and there is no clue as to who it is from.

Dongwoo is eyeing it like he’s a man dying of thirst and the shampoo is an oasis.

Sunggyu crosses his arms and tells Dongwoo, “Our assigned shower time is in half an hour.” They’ll have a precious fifteen minutes of icy cold, filtered sea water, in which to clean themselves. “You want to put this to good use?”

There’s no sense in fussing over where the shampoo and other items came from. And Sunggyu would be lying if he couldn’t admit that he desperately wants to scrub his body clean with something decent enough to be called soap.

Almost awed, Dongwoo asks, “You’re going to share with me?”

Flatly, Sunggyu questions, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Sunggyu gives a sound of surprise, forced from him by a sudden impact, as Dongwoo hugs him tightly.

“No,” Dongwoo correct, “We’re best friends.”

Even with the cold water that still smells like the ocean and isn’t as clean as he would have liked to bathe with, after his shower Sunggyu feels like a new man. His skin smells fantastic, his hastily washed hair is silky smooth again, and his touchup shave leaves his jaw feeling soft. It’s amazing what the change is.

Dongwoo says, “Oh, man, I forgot what it’s like to feel this good.”

Sunggyu lets the shower caddy hang fro his fingertips and grins at him. The items or gifts, whatever they are, won’t last forever, and they’ll go even faster with two sharing, but for the moment this is bliss.

“Wow,” Seungri remarks when he ducks his head into the showering area to them back to their bunk. He’s running a little late, which means Dongwoo and Sunggyu are the last of their shower group, and the next is getting ready to come in. Seungri eyes the caddy and asks, “Where’d that come from? I bet everyone here was super jealous. I’m jealous.”

Sunggyu shrugs, but Dongwoo says, “We had to shank a few guys over it. No big deal.”

Seungri bursts out laughing and Sunggyu fights not to roll his eyes. The truth is, the caddy was noticed, and more than one person eyed them during their shower with either envy or anger. But there was no shanking.

For good measure, Sunggyu says to Seungri, “There were no casualties.”

On the way back to their cabin, rough military issue towels around their necks, Seungri says, “I’m pretty sure this is one of the last times I’ll have to hold your hand to go anywhere. Neither of you were involved directly in that riot a few days ago, and the Captain has had enough time to process which civilians are likely to be trouble and which aren’t. By tomorrow you’ll be moving way more freely on the ship.”

The idea that they can go places without having to be shadowed by Seungri or any other cadet is something that makes Sunggyu breathe a little easier. He doesn’t exactly want to run up and down the halls, but he would like to be able to go to the bathroom without having to ask permission first.

Seungri ticks off on his fingers, “You’ll be able to go up on deck, visit any of the rec rooms, and take your meals in the commissary if you want. No more being in your cabin for the entire day.”

Dongwoo flashes a sign of victory that Seungri seems to especially like.

Either in a show of trust that Seungri has for them, or because he’s absolutely so busy, Sunggyu and Dongwoo get to walk the last thirty or so seconds back to their cabin alone. It’s a taste of what their upcoming freedom will be like, but Sunggyu tries to make the walk in as sort an amount of time in possible. In fact, he’s almost dragging Dongwoo along. The last thing he wants is for anyone to catch sight of them out without an .

Sunggyu skids to a stop as their cabin door comes into view. It’s cracked open and a half second later Yunho coming through it, a couple of thick books in his hands.

“Hey you two,” Yunho greets, though his tone is suspicious. “Where’s your ?”

Dongwoo thumbs over his shoulder and says, “Seungri had about fifteen other people he had to places, and I think he was running behind schedule.”

“Don’t worry,” Sunggyu adds, “we didn’t walk the whole way here by ourselves. Only about the last couple hundred feet.”

Yunho remarks, “Even if Seungri is running behind, he shouldn’t let you go wandering off on your own.”

A little defensively, Sunggyu denies, “We’re not wandering off. We came straight here.”

Yunho seems to be admitting defeat on the matter because he doesn’t press the issue, which isn’t like Yunho at all. He must be distracted, and the books in his arms, the ones Sunggyu has seen under his bed before, must have something to do with it.

Yunho notices Sunggyu’s gaze and hefts the books up, stating, “Remember that I told you that three other guys are supposed to be able to run my station? I think the captain is worried about that, especially since--”

Yunho breaks off suddenly, looking away from Sunggyu.

“Yunho?” Sunggyu asks, brows furrowed. “Since what?”

“Nothing,” Yunho says quickly, avoiding the subject. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just taking these books so I can start trying to getting a couple of cadets started. With any luck, they’ll pick it up fast enough to get some of this pressure off my shoulders.”

It doesn’t seem likely, however. Sunggyu knows that Yunho’s been training for his position for over a year now. A handful cadets aren’t going to pick it up in a few days, but something must be better than nothing. Maybe Yunho can get a few more hours of sleep if this works.

Yunho purses his lips, then his suspicious gaze it Sunggyu one more time. He asks, “Have you been staying out of trouble?”

The air catches in Sunggyu’s lungs and all he can think is that Yunho’s found out about Woohyun. The captain’s already said something to him, and the situation is already out of control.

“Trouble?” Sunggyu squeaks out, his voice pitched so high that Yunho’s head and Dongwoo’s eyes widen.

“Yeah,” Yunho says, “trouble. You’re not running any black market schemes, right?”

Sunggyu’s eyes dart down to the caddy hooked on his fingers, but Yunho isn’t looking himself, which means this isn’t what he’s referencing.

Slowly, Sunggyu says, “I’m not running a black market scheme.”

“Good,” Yunho says, shouldering past him and Dongwoo. “Because that would be a very dumb thing to do, and it’s the kind of thing that could get you thrown overboard. The captain would like to actually keep some order and civility on the ship.”

Sunggyu thinks this is an incredibly hypocritical statement, considering it’s been alluded to before that the inciters of the riot have already met their end. But he doesn’t dare tell Yunho this. Instead he only says, “I promise. I’m not.”

Yunho tucks the heavy manuals under his arm and asks in a soft voice, one much softer than Dongwoo can’t hear properly, “Are you … seeing someone on this ship?”

Even though Dongwoo hasn’t heard the words, Sunggyu’s eyes flash to him in concern. What does Yunho mean? Dongwoo seems just completely clueless as to what’s going on, and only has a deep shrug for Sunggyu.

“Huh?”

“Dating?” Yunho offers.

Sunggyu looks appalled. “I’m barely alive right now,” he says, voice not a whisper anymore. “And you think I’m going out on dates? How? Rendezvous at the bathroom for a quickie? How romantic.”

“Hey,” Yunho grunts out. He pushes his fingers through Sunggyu’s hair, rucking it up, and he looks utterly pleased with himself when Sunggyu complains. “I’m just … okay. Never mind.” Yunho turns away and starts off down the hall, calling back, “Don’t go wandering around on your own. It’ll hurt your chances of being in group A.”

“Group A?” Dongwoo asks Sunggyu when Yunho is gone.

Sunggyu is more distracted by the fact that his brother thinks he’s carrying on a relationship with someone on the ship. Considering the very real lack of teenagers, and the over abundance of older men, it’s a startling idea that his brother is having.

“Why does my brother think I’m dating someone on this ship?”

Dongwoo shakes his head, but then says, “The shower stuff?”

Sunggyu reaches for the cabin door remarking, “He wasn’t even looking at it. I don’t even know if he saw it. He obviously had other stuff on his mind.”

Sunggyu gets his answer a few seconds later. Because on Yunho’s bed, where the caddy was found before, is a small tin with a simple card on it.

“I can kind of see why your brother thinks you’ve got a sweetheart on board,” Dongwoo says after he’s snatched the card up and then flipped it around for Sunggyu to see.

Of course there isn’t a love poem, or a declaration of feelings or anything. But there is a simple message from an unknown sender urging him to enjoy the contents of the tin and know that Sunggyu is being thought of.

It’s honestly a little creepy.

“Open it,” Dongwoo urges, bouncing on his feet. “Open.”

Sunggyu picks up the tin and shakes it a little, listening to the contents inside slide around. Sunggyu’s seen enough bad horror movies to know that it’s never good when an unknown, unnamed stalker who already knows your name and where you live starts sending you mementos of their affection. So he tosses the tin to Dongwoo and says, “You open it.”

Dongwoo has the lid off in a few seconds flat. Sunggyu has never seen him look so happy. Sunggyu has maybe never seen anyone look so happy over anything before.

“Holy ,” Dongwoo pants out, then turns the tin to Sunggyu so he can see.

There’s candy inside. The kind of candy that shouldn’t exist anymore. It’s candy that’s lost forever on shelves on convenience stores that are completely overrun by infected. As Dongwoo’s fingers dig around through liquorish, and snack sized Heresy bars, and Skittles, Sunggyu thinks he’s seeing the impossible.

He remembers Seungri telling him about the supply drop, but he figures that they were plied with rice and other necessary for survival foods. Candy cannot be on anyone’s priority list.

But it’s now clear why Yunho thinks Sunggyu has someone. Or is a mastermind behind some ship wide black market ring.

“Do you have a girl?” Dongwoo asks. His eyes are wide and childlike and Sunggyu fully believes if he attempts to take the tin back from Dongwoo, he may lose a finger or two in the process. “Because girls like to send this stuff to guys all the time.”

“No,” Sunggyu says plainly. He’s actually never had a girlfriend. Truthfully, most girls are nice. Most girls are completely datable. They tend to be kind and pretty and very good at not being selfish. Boys are selfish. But Sunggyu’s never found a girl that makes his heart beat strongly. And if Sunggyu is really honest with himself, he prefers boys anyway. Boys are rougher and less forgiving, harder to deal with and s, but boys make Sunggyu’s palms sweat and his heart go crazy. Boys do it for him.

Sunggyu’s had a couple boyfriends in his life, short romances that were more for comfort and companionship, and less for anything else. But none of them have ever given him candy.

Dongwoo says slowly, like it’s the most important question he’ll ever ask in his life, “Can I … have a piece?”

Sunggyu arches an eyebrow. “You realize this is probably some of the last candy on the planet, right?”

With a whine, Dongwoo says, “Just one. Look, just this Twix right here.”

Sunggyu is finding it more and more difficult to say no to Dongwoo, the more time they spend together. Dongwoo isn’t particularly adorable or anything, but Sunggyu is too attached.

“One,” Sunggyu allows, but doesn’t call Dongwoo out when the boy sneaks a second. Then Sunggyu caps the lid on the tin and puts it down on the bed.

“Who’s sending you all this stuff?” Dongwoo asks as he chews on a piece of bright red licorice, the Twix hidden in his pocket. The candy is already turning Dongwoo’s tongue bright red, and his lips will likely follow.

“I don’t know,” Sunggyu says honestly. He can’t think of anyone that he’s met who has the pull or ability to be giving him these gifts. Neither can he think of a reason why. In terms of power on the ship, he has very little. There’s nothing Suggyu can really do for anyone else at the moment. The gifts seem wasted. “But I definitely don’t want anymore from whoever this stalker is.” The last thing he needs is to be indebted to someone. Especially without knowing why.

Dongwoo proposes, “Then can I have your stalker? Because I’m super okay with being stalked like this if it means free candy and good shampoo.”

“You can have him,” Sunggyu says. “Or her. Whatever.”

“Can we leave a note for the stalker? Asking for music next? An ipod or radio or whatever.”

Carefully, Sunggyu points out, “An ipod would run out of battery in just a few days, and I doubt there are any radio station still up at this point. At least ones that aren’t running on emergency frequencies.”

Dongwoo groans, “A ing cassette deck for all I care. A turntable for records.”

Sunggyu eyes the candy one last time, then bends to tuck it under the cot. When Yunho comes back, whenever he does, Sunggyu will offer him some of the candy. Now that Dongwoo’s been a willing test subject, Sunggyu is pretty confident that the candy is okay.

“Hey!” Dongwoo protests rather loudly when he sees Sunggyu place the candy under the cot. “Aren’t you going to eat any of it? There’s a lot there.”

“I don’t really like candy,” Sunggyu says. He’ll enjoy a piece once in a while, preferably when it doesn’t come from a stalker, but Sunggyu certainly doesn’t have a sweet tooth. In fact, some of his friends he’s something of a health nut, always obsessed with vitamins, supplements and pills.

His friends used to .

All his friends are dead now, save for Dongwoo. And even though they’re friends now, best friends even, Dongwoo has a long way to go before he knows Sunggyu half as well as his old friends.

Dongwoo grasps his chest dramatically and swoons onto his bunk. “You don’t like candy. We can’t be friends anymore.”

Sunggyu leans back on Yunho’s bunk and grins. “That’s too bad, because I only share candy with my friends.”

Dongwoo makes a choked sound and Sunggyu’s face hurts from all the smiling.

It’s an hour after they’ve had their dinner meal when a knock comes at the door. It’s not so late that Sunggyu doesn’t expect visitors, but frankly, he doesn’t expect visitors. He’s never had anyone visit the cabin at all, aside from cadets on business.

And so it’s no surprise when Sunggyu opens the door to find a cadet standing in the hallway. Sunggyu moves back immediately to let him in, eyeing the man’s handsome face, but also the clipboard in his hands. There are two obvious envelopes clipped to it and a few sheets of paper underneath.

“Kim Sunggyu and Jang Dongwoo?”

The cadet is almost stern looking, severe in the way his hair is gelled down, his uniform pristine, and his voice clipped.

Dongwoo volunteers, “That’s us.”

The cadet’s nametag reads Kim, but it’s obviously a common enough family name and gives nothing away as to the kind of person the cadet is.

The cadet hands each of them one of the envelopes and marks their names off what looks to be a short list. He indicates to them, “Open the envelopes, please. I only have so much time to explain this to you, and it needs to be fast.”

Inside the envelopes Sunggyu finds a laminated identification card with a clip on the end. It’s sporting the picture he was forced to take for processing before even being allowed on the military base for visitor’s weekend, and it isn’t a flattering shot in his opinion. There’s also a small booklet full of empty spaces, two for each day, and a white card with a black electronic strip. A quick look to Dongwoo shows he has the same items.

“These are your identification badges,” the cadet tells them, voice indicating that he’s given this speech a million times already. “You’ll wear them any and all times you leave your cabin, properly pinned to your shirts, and the information on the badges must never obscured in any way.”

“Identification badges,” Dongwoo says, holding the plastic rectangle loosely in his fingers.

“Yes,” the cadet presses, “please observe that in the top right hand corner there is a group designation. Yours will say group A. That indicates that you have free reign of the ship, excluding priority areas for the crew, and you won’t have to be chaperoned in order to leave your cabins.”

Sunggyu rubs a finger over the glossy card. This is freedom he’s holding in his hands. Freedom due to good behavior, almost like he’s been in jail all these days.

“Cool,” Dongwoo remarks, quickly pinning it on his shirt and gesturing for Sunggyu to tell him how it looks.

The look on the cadet’s face is not patient. “Please also note that these badges and the freedom they allow you are a privilege, not a right. If you do anything to warrant them being revoked, they will be. Once they’re taken away, you can’t earn them back.”

Dongwoo holds up the booklet. “What’s this?”

The cadet says, “If you so choose to eat in the commissary, that option is now available. Because you are group A, and able to leave your cabins unrestricted, no one will bring you your meals from this point on. It’s your responsibility to seek out your own meals, and those booklets will mark the meals you attend. You’re to be fed two times a day, if you appear in the commissary at the appropriate times, and not in between. That booklet will be marked each time you receive a meal.”

Dongwoo wonders aloud, “What if we lose these things?” Sunggyu can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not, but Dongwoo misses his grip on the booklet and it falls to the floor.

“Then you starve,” the cadet says flatly.

Sunggyu thinks he’s serious.

“And these?” Sunggyu asks, holding up the unmarked card. Only it isn’t unmarked. When he looks again he can see a deck designation and room number, and the print of nineteen hundred hours.

“In exchange for these freedoms,” the cadet says, “you will be expected to pull your weight. Each individual in either group A or B has been assigned at random a responsibility. These responsibilities are daily, and not optional. If you fail to show for your responsibility, and do not have a legitimate reason, your privileges will be revoked. If you do not perform your responsibility to the best of your ability, your privileges will be revoked. If you cause trouble at your responsibility, your--”

Dongwoo cuts in dramatically, “Our privileges will be revoked.”

“What responsibilities?” Sunggyu asks, trying to reign Dongwoo in.

The cadet jesters for Sunggyu to show him his card and remarks, “You’ll learn the layout of the ship better, but I can tell you this is the commissary. You’ve been assigned the prep, service, and cleanup associated with the dinner meal.”

Sunggyu tries not to look too unhappy. Working a meal service once a day isn’t so much to ask, at least not in exchange for being able to go up on deck whenever he wants to get some fresh air.

Dongwoo is smothering laugher poorly when the cadet glances at Dongwoo’s card and says, “You’ve been assigned to the laundry department.”

The look on Dongwoo’s face is priceless.

The cadet has them each sign a pieces of paper that mean they may as well be handing their souls over, but it seems to satisfy and be enough.

Then, before the cadet can reach for the door to leave, a knock sounds.

The cadet looks as surprised as Sunggyu, but Dongwoo just shrugs and says, “We’re popular. Whatcha gonna do?”

The last person Sunggyu expects to see waiting to enter the already cramped cabin is Sungyeol, with Jiyeon on his hip. There’s also a brand new identification badge pinned to his shirt.

“Sunggyeol?” Sunggyu asks. “What’re you doing here?” It must be past Jiyeon’s bedtime. She looks sleepy enough to indicate this, but also a lot more healthy than she did the day before. She seems to be over the hump of her cold.

Sungyeol’s eyes cut to the cadet and balancing Jiyeon expertly, he flicks his badge and says, “I’ve already been briefed by another cadet. I’m wearing my nametag and that means I can move around the ship until curfew in a few hours.”

Sunggyu looks back to the cadet for his reaction, maybe to test the theory of the all freeing badge of movement … and what he finds is unexpected.

The normally harsh seeming cadet is at a loss for words. His face is fairly slack and his posture has fallen. However the cadet’s eyes are wider and his breathing has noticeably picked up. If Sunggyu didn’t know any better, he’d say the cadet looks … love struck.

The cadet suddenly blurts out awkwardly, “I’m L.” He shakes his head, then says, “My friends call me L. My real name is Myungsoo. You can call me L. You can call me whichever you prefer.” He gives a severe bow.

Sungyeol gives him an almost placating look and slips past him into the cabin, careful not to brush across the cadet. “Nice to meet you then. I’m Sungyeol.” Sungyeol’s bow is less respectful.

“Sungyeol,” the cadet--Myungsoo, repeats.

“Are we done?” Sunggyu asks Myungsoo, trying to free up some space in the cabin. It’s getting tight with four people and a baby.

Speaking of, by now Jiyeon’s noticed the other people, and Sunggyu is kind of amazed that she seems to remember him. She shoves a tiny fist into , drooling across her fingers and babbles at him, leaning her whole body in his direction. Sungyeol has to heft her up several times as she moves.

“Done?” Myungsoo asks, as if his feet are frozen to the floor.

The way the cadet is looking at Sungyeol is more than a little weird, and so Sunggyu urges, “You’re free to go, cadet. Dongwoo and I understand everything you said. You must have other people left on that list.”

Sungyeol gives Myungsoo a polite but dismissive nod.

Myungsoo trips his way out of the cabin, and if it weren’t so pathetic, it would be hilarious.

Then Myungsoo squeaks out, “Okay. I’ll … just go now. Wait! Sungyeol. Can I … walk you back to your cabin?”

Sungyeol says flatly, “I just got here.”

Myungsoo makes a weird sound then, so out of character from what Sunggyu expects from him, then he’s dashing away.

“Who was that guy?” Sungyeol asks, closing the door with a free hand.

“Some cadet,” Dongwoo waves off, making funny faces at Jiyeon who’s laughing in return. “An retentive cadet to boot.”

Sunggyu feels a pang of regret and tells Sungyeol, “I want to apologize for the other day. It was wrong for me to spring that on you like that.”

Sungyeol rolls his eyes and promptly drops Jiyeon into his arms. “Here, Ji,” he says, “go to your Gyu Oppa.”

“Oppa?” Sunggyu asks, cradling her instinctively. She curls into his chest easily and Sunggyu can’t deny how good she feels, warm and alive and precious.

“You’re right,” Sungyeol says, crossing his arms. “About needing friends. You need me and I need you. We need each other.”

Dongwoo frowns, “What are you guys talking about?”

“I don’t want to rush you into a decision,” Sunggyu says.

“It’s a friendship,” Sungyeol snorts out. “Plus, I have to go with my gut.”

“What does your gut say?”

It resonates in Sunggyu’s heart when Sungyeol says, “That if push comes to shove, and it comes down to it, that you’ll do what it takes to protect Jiyeon. That’s the kind of backup I can’t pass on. You watch out for us, and I’ll have your back in return. Yours and Dongwoo’s.”

Dongwoo asks hesitantly, “Are we forming some kind of partnership here?”

“I guess,” Sungyeol says with a grin. “More like friends with benefits.”

Dongwoo laughs out, “Probably not, considering the way cadet awkward was looking at you with little hearts in his eyes.”

Jiyeon reaches up to tug some of the longer strands of Sunggyu’s hair. He lifts a hand to rub across her back and then, suddenly thinking of the tin under his bed, asks Sungyeol, “You like candy?”

Sungyeol’s eyes go wide and hopeful. “Candy?”

Dongwoo reconsiders, “Okay, maybe you’re right. Friends with benefits.”

By the end of the hour, with curfew looming, Jiyeon is asleep against him and Dongwoo and Sungyeol have eaten almost half the candy in the tin. Sunggyu complains they’ll have stomach aches the day of their first work assignments, but he even indulges in the candy a little himself.

For the first time in what feels like forever, Sunggyu is sure that tomorrow will be better than today. And it’s a priceless, miraculous feeling.