The first thing Sunggyu and Dongwoo use their identification badges for, and more importantly their freedom, is breakfast. They go to breakfast for the first time in the commissary, on their own, no necessary. It’s an oddly thrilling experience.

Sunggyu’s wearing his badge on the left side of his chest, blatantly displayed in its proper place, while Dongwoo’s flirting with trouble, hooking his deliberately on the bottom of his shirt.

It takes them five minutes to swing by Sungyeol’s room, and five more to actually get out the door with everything Jiyeon needs, but twenty more to find the commissary. They get lost. Several times. And when they ask for directions from passing by cadets, they get the feeling they’re only a few of many people in a long line who’ve gotten turned around.

Also, suddenly, the ship doesn’t feel so empty. To the best of Sunggyu’s knowledge, the ship is almost at full capacity, but up until now he’s barely seen a couple of people in one area at once. The exception is the assembly they had days ago, the one ending in a riot. Maybe that’s saying something.

But now Sunggyu has to excuse himself several times as they head to the commissary, squeezing past dozens of people wearing their identification badges, filling up space and making the ships seem not so cold.

The breakfast meal, which Sunggyu is so, so thankful not to be assigned to, starts at six-fifteen. The cutoff point is at seven-fifteen, and the commissary closes at eight. Sunggyu and his group arrive five minutes before the cutoff and Dongwoo declares loudly, “We are never cutting it this close again!” Sunggyu has since learned not to get between Dongwoo and his food.

The commissary is packed. Jiyeon squirms in Sungyeol’s grasp as Sunggyu scans the room. The ratio is pretty even between soldiers and civilians, which is a surprise considering how the civilians outnumber everyone else, but then Sunggyu supposes that it isn’t too unexpected after all. Most people probably don’t know what to do with their sudden freedom, and some of the other must not feel comfortable enough to take the first available meal.

It’s also very clear to see the distinction between soliders and civilians in the commissary. The soldiers are all clustered in the tables closest to the food, talking loudly, some shouting over others, and all of them steering clear of the civilians. It’s like a line that goes right down the middle, and invisible line, and the civilians seem to be keeping closest to the exits, and they look nervous.

“Do you see a table?” Sungyeol asks, going up on his toes.

Sunggyu sees a few open seats at a few different tables among the civilians, but nothing big enough for the four of them. Maybe they won’t be able to sit together.

Then suddenly a loud voice calls out, “Hey! Sunggyu! Over here!”

Seungri is impossible to miss, his hand waving wildly in the air. He’s surrounded by half a dozen men, all of them mostly done with their meals, and he’s waving them over.

“Come on,” Sunggyu says, plowing through the invisible line. If anything, he has to say hi to Seungri.

“Is this Yunho’s younger brother?” one of the soldiers asks, and immediately Seungri launches into the story of how Sunggyu stuck up for him. He leaves out all the major details, thankfully, but by the end several of the soldiers are looking at him with an odd sense of acceptance, and this time it doesn’t just come from being Yunho’s kid brother.

“You guys are cutting it a little close,” Seungri says, nodding to the clock. “Better go get in line. They’ll cut people off after seven-fifteen. They’re serious about that .”

Breakfast is powdered eggs, soggy bacon and milk from square boxes, but it’s made better by the way the soldier in charge of eggs drops a second serving onto his plate, slides a banana onto his tray that no one else seems to get, and says, “Your brother saved my during the last physical assessment. Tell him Nichkhun said hi. And to stop bringing his into the commissary before I get here. Haven’t seen him in forever.”

Dongwoo pouts until Sunggyu promises him half of his second serving. But none of his banana. Sunggyu hasn’t seen fresh fruit in forever.

Sunggyu is worrying about where they’ll sit once more until Seungri is waving frantically at him again, calling out, “Come sit with us!”

Quietly, Sungyeol asks Sunggyu, “Do you think we’re supposed to?” It obviously hasn’t been lost on him that there’s a great divide between the civilians and military personnel.

Dongwoo looks seconds from eating where he stands, and Jiyeon is beginning to get loud, so Sunggyu makes a decision. He says, “Come on,” and heads straight for Seungri.

Seungri is a cadet, and he’s obviously one of the youngesr soldiers on the ship, but as Sunggyu approaches, looking for where they’re going to sit at the near full table, Seungri starts shoving at the people near him, declaring loudly, “Get out of the way. Sunggyu and his friends need a place to sit. Get lost, you slackers.”

Sunggyu almost expects a fight of some kind, but amazingly several of the guys get up, taking their trays with them, mumbling about work stations, crummy food and Seungri. No fights are had.

Sunggyu ends up squished between Seungri and someone named Youngbae, and he’s introduced personally to the man across from him, Jiyoung. Jiyoung’s food is almost completely untouched in front of him, and instead he’s focused on a pad of paper, tapping the end of a pencil against it rhythmically as he murmurs something Sunggyu can’t really hear.

Sunggyu realises latently that these are the two people, Youngbae and Jiyoung, that Seungri said were the most important to him. He almost feels honored.

Sunggyu has only taken a single bite of his powder eggs when he realizes almost the whole of the commissary is watching him. Watching his group. They’re waiting for something, though Sunggyu doesn’t know for what.

“--work assignments?”

Sunggyu looks to Seungri, only catching the last bit of his question. “Sorry?”

Seungri shrugs good naturedly. “You got your work assignments, right? They start today. What are they?”

Whereas Dongwoo bites out that he’ll be spending his afternoon doing laundry, Sunggyu volunteers easily enough that he’s got the dinner service.

“You got off easy,” Seungri remarks, stealing Jiyoung’s room temperature milk. Sunggyu doesn’t miss the way Jiyoung’s mouth quirks a little, indicating he’s seen the theft, but that it amuses him. It’s sort of hilarious how Seungri seems to have the people near him so easily wrapped around his finger. “Food duty is easy. You don’t actually have to cook anything, just throw the stuff on some trays and tell people to move along. I mean, the cleanup , but you get to eat first, before everyone else, and it’ll still be warm when you do.”

For the first time Sunggyu realizes he doesn’t know what Sungyeol’s assignment is.

“I don’t have one,” Sungyeol says, feeding Jiyeon a small piece of egg. She doesn’t seem to care for the taste, but is hungry enough to eat it anyway. Briefly Sunggyu wonders if she’s still supposed to be on formula. She’s handling solid foods okay, and is old enough to make sounds that almost seem like words. Plus, she’s tottering around in adorable white shoes. But babies and toddlers are on formula for a long time. Is she getting what she needs? Does Sungyeol have diapers for her? Toys? Anything?

The worry is eating Sunggyu up, all of the sudden.

Sungyeol pops a piece of bacon in his mouth and says, “I think having to take care of Jiyeon gets me off the hook. At least for now. Well, sort of.” He makes an odd face. “There’s one other kid around Jiyeon’s age on the ship. Her mom and I are supposed to take turns, trading off every other day with watching the girls. But frankly the mom doesn’t seem to want to let her daughter out of her sight for more than a minute, and I won’t let Jiyeon out of mine at all.”

Seungri puts his chin in his hand and reaches out to tap Jiyeon’s button nose, making her laugh and reach for him. He says honestly, “It’s so amazing to see someone her age.”

Sunggyu doesn’t know if he means it’s amazing she’s alive, or simply that he’s been on the ship for so long he hasn’t seen a kid in a while. Which one is probably better of left unsaid.

They spend the rest of their meal chatting idly, Dongwoo stealing food from Sunggyu’s plate, Sungyeol letting Seungri and Jiyeon play together a little, and everyone laughing enough to feel human again.

“Food time is over,” Seungri finally declares, all but throwing himself on Youngbae’s back. “I hate when food time is over.”

Seungri is so playful when he doesn’t have to be professional that Sunggyu desperately wants to spend more time around him. Seungri is the kind of guy who can light up a room, or make everyone feel better with a few simple words. It seems a rare thing these days.

“Get off me,” Youngbae says, but it’s playful enough that he doesn’t push too hard at Seungri.

Seungri lifts his tray and asks Sunggyu, “What’re you going to do? You get free reign of the ship for the first time.” Barring restricted areas, of course.

Sunggyu has half a mind to just wander the ship, learning the layout, appreciating his new home, no matter how temporary it may be.

But then Sunggyu hears Sungyeol telling Dongwoo about how pale he’s looking, and how they could all use a little sun, and Sunggyu’s mind is made up.

“We’re going up,” Sunggyu says, pointing a finger towards the ceiling.

“Up on deck?” Seungri asks, eyebrows high.

“We are?” Dongwoo asks.

“But,” Sunggyu adds, “we’re picking a couple people up along the way.”

Dongwoo looks confused, but Sungyeol is interested, so Sunggyu chalks it up to a win.

Hoya says, the second Sunggyu’s invited both him and Sungjong along for some fresh air, “That’s really nice, Sunggyu, but we can’t.” The two bunkmates that the share the small space from are gone, leaving Hoya enough room to stand, and Sungjong enough room to breathe.

“I can’t,” Sungjong cuts in with an adorable pout. “And it’s not fair.”

A quick round of introductions are made, for everyone’s benefit, and Sunggyu asks, “What does that mean? Didn’t you get badges?”

Sungyeol plops Jiyeon into Sungjong’s lap and the two are seemingly hitting it off like long lost siblings. Sungyeol’s still watchful, but Sunggyu can see him loosening up as Sungjong plays peekaboo with the toddler. Sunggyu remembers that Sungjong used to have siblings. It’s a horrible reminder that Sungjong is so good with Jiyeon fro a reason.

“Right here,” Hoya says, retrieving a plastic card from his nearby bag. He’s got the designation for group B, but Sunggyu’s been fishing for information on the cards all morning long, and groups A and B are exactly the same thing, only broken into two because of the large number of people deemed not a threat. “Not the problem.”

“Then what is?” Sunggyu demands. He only just now gets how important it is to him that they all bond as a group. Sunggyu and Dongwoo are apparently best friends, and Sungyeol is a good friend now. Sunggyu wants to be good friends with Hoya and Sungjong, so he needs them all to get along. He needs them to like each other and be friends.

Sunggyu needs this.

Sungjong’s got Jiyeon perched up on his chest, bouncing her a little when Hoya thumbs at him. “It’s this kid.” A second later Hoya’s got Sungjong’s identification card in hand and he’s giving it to Sunggyu.

The card is noticeably different. It still sports Sungjong’s picture and information, but it’s got a red, atrocious boarder to it, and the designation of group M.

“Group M? What’s that?” Sunggyu’s seen badges for groups A and B, and he knows that group C is monitored access, with group D being completely denied access, but group M is out of place.

Sungjong declares loudly from the bed, the kid making Jiyeon shriek happily as he tickles her, “M for minor!”

Hoya shrugs. “He’s twelve, remember? I guess the people running this show think that’s way too young to be unsupervised.”

Sunggyu doesn’t exactly disagree.

“It just means,” Hoya continues, “that he’s still in the same situation as we were before. He can’t go off on his own, he can’t go anywhere without a military , and he has to get permission to do anything.”

“Like to pee!” Sungjong calls out.

“He can’t go,” Hoya says finally.

What Hoya really means to say, and Sunggyu thinks he speaks Hoya fluently, even after knowing him such a short period of time, is that if Sungjong can’t go, Hoya can’t go either. Hoya’s made it his personal mission to look out for Sungjong and not let the kid out of his sight. Hoya won’t leave him on his own even for a few minutes. Hoya’s sort of like a mother hen in this regard.

“That ,” Dongwoo says, and genuinely seems to mean it. Dongwoo makes friends, apparently, like people breathe. It’s effortless on his part.

“Class M. What a joke.” Sungyeol reaches for Jiyeon, hoisting her back up into his arms. She’s babbling like crazy when Sungyeol clarifies, “He can’t go anywhere without a military , under any circumstances?”

“Right,” Hoya eases out.

Sunggyu poses, “Isn’t your dad supposed to be in the think tank on this ship?” He hasn’t heard much of it since learning about it days ago. He knows that there are quite a few very smart people on the ship, some of them who’ve been looking into a cure of some sort, and others who’ve been in contact with survivors in other nations. Sungjong’s dad is one of them, though Sunggyu has never seen any of them. Maybe they’re being kept separate on purpose.

Sungjong pouts and says, “Whatever.” Then he rolls to the side, his face to the wall and doesn’t move.

In a quiet, horribly telling voice, Hoya says, “His dad’s only been to see him once. He was kind of an , too.”

What Sunggyu remembers from learning about Sungjong is that his father had to make a terrible choice of which of his children to save. Maybe the man is just reeling from the loss of his wife and other children. There seems no greater pain than a parent losing a child.

“He can’t do anything?” Sunggyu asks.

Wordlessly, Hoya shakes his head.

“Wait,” Dongwoo says suddenly, snapping his fingers. “I think Sungyeol is onto something.”

“I am?” Sungyeol asks.

Sungjong’s peeking over his shoulder as Dongwoo says excitedly, “He can still come with us. We just have to get some cadet to go with us.”

“Good luck with that,” Hoya snorts. “Most of the cadets that were shadowing us before were doing that full time. But almost all of them have gone back to their actual jobs on this ship, and they don’t have time for us anymore.”

Dongwoo grins wide. “But we know a certain cadet who’d love to act as Sungjong’s .”

Sunggyu asks, “We do?”

“Of course we do.” Dongwoo nudges Sungyeol slightly, careful of Jiyeon. “As long as a certain someone is in attendance.”

“No!” Sungyeol remarks immediately, taking a step back. “Absolutely not!”

Dongwoo bursts out laughing and makes kissing noises at Sungyeol, earning him a hit to the back of the head from an unapologetic Sungyeol.

“Huh?” Hoya grunts out.

“But he was so adorable,” Dongwoo presses. “Can I walk you back to your cabin? You can call me Myungsoo. Or L. You can call me whatever you want.”

Sungyeol seethes, “You’d better be damn thankful I’m holding my little sister right now.”

To alleviate the confusion on Hoya’s face, Sunggyu says, “Actually, we may know someone who’s willing to chaperone Sungjong. I can’t guarantee it won’t be awkward--”

“It’ll be totally awkward,” Sungyeol insists.

Sunggyu continues, “But if a certain someone calls on him, he’ll probably show.”

Sungjong asks, hope in his voice, “I can go with you guys?”

“That’s up to Sungyeol,” Dongwoo says.

“You all owe me,” Sungyeol says, eyes narrowed. “So much.”

In the end, Sunggyu has to promise Sungyeol almost all the candy left in the tin, and Dongwoo’s been volunteered for Jiyeon babysitting duty. Though the latter is hastily revoked as Sungyeol vocally declares that Dongwoo is more likely to kill her accidentally, than anything else. While Dongwoo acts extremely offended, swooping in to steal Jiyeon from Sungyeol’s arms, exclaiming he won’t give her back for anything, Sunggyu thinks the fact that Sungyeol can even say such a think means he must be feeling at least a little more safe in their predicament.

Sunggyu is the one to rescue Jiyeon, and when he’s holding her protectively, wedged between Sungyeol and Dongwoo, he tells Hoya and Sungjong, “We’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Be ready to go then.”

Tracking down Myungsoo isn’t that hard. It’s easier than finding the commissary.

There are a series of administrative offices on the deck below the bridge, and though Sunggyu has only been to the area once before, the trauma associated with it has etched the location into his mind forever. It’s only a guess, albeit a good one, that Myungsoo is assigned to the offices, but he’s obviously a practical guy, analytical even And at the very least, even if Myungsoo isn’t there, they’re likely to have a directory of where all the cadets work, or where they sleep.

A quick look around the nearest corner shows Myungsoo seated visibly at a desk, paperwork strewn about him. A few other cadets are loitering around, some of them working, others chatting.

“Well?” Dongwoo says. “Go ask him. But fix your hair first. You want to look super hot so he’ll do whatever you say.”

Sungyeol presses a kiss to the back of Jiyeon’s head and leaves her in Sunggyu’s capable arms. He takes a deep breath and tells them, “I really hate you guys,” and takes a step forward.

Sunggyu and Dongwoo can’t hear a word that is being said between Sungyeol and Myungsoo. But it’s likely the only thing that matters is the way that Sungyeol is deliberately leaning into Myungsoo’s space, and how quickly Myungsoo is on his feet nodding frantically.

“Too easy,” Dongwoo whistles out.

Sunggyu rolls his eyes. “I doubt we should be using our friends to get what we want.” It’s obvious that Sunyeol isn’t interested in Myungsoo, and Sunggyu feels a little guilty for the whole thing.

“Sunggyu,” Dongwoo says, leveling a serious gaze at him, “that’s the very definition of friendship.”

Myungsoo, practically falling over himself to walk next to Sungyeol down the narrow hallways, leads all of them, Hoya and Sungjong included, up to one of several open decks of the ship. It’s smaller, off the port side, and half covered with an awning . It’s blessedly empty, and Myungsoo assures them that it’s an area of the deck they have free access to.

Sungjong takes off running immediately, and it occurs to Sunggyu that the kid probably hasn’t been able to stretch his legs in a decent amount of time. There isn’t a whole lot of room to the sectioned off portion of the deck, but it’s enough to get Sungjong’s heart pumping. And to get Hoya trailing off after him.

“I want to thank you again,” Sunggyu hears Sungyeol telling Myungsoo as the wind whips through his hair. They’re clearly not moving at top speed, but they’re not going that slow, either. It’s a steady pace, and with the sun beating down on Sunggyu, it feels perfect to be outside. “I hope you won’t get in any trouble for taking time away from your work today.”

Myungsoo almost stammers, “No problem. None at all. I swear.”

Sunggyu holds back a laugh. He gives one last look to the pair, Jiyeon tugging relentlessly on one the buttons to Myungsoo’s uniform as Sungyeol holds her, then he turns to the railing and leans against it. The water is a dark, almost murky blue around the ship, foam splashing up from how the vessel cuts through the water. It reminds Sunggyu of how long it’s been since he’s gone swimming with his friends, or fishing with his dad.

Five minutes turn to ten, and ten to twenty, and before Sunggyu knows it they’ve been outside for well over a half hour. Sunggyu’s skin feels warm, maybe overly so, and his hair is likely wrecked. He’s thirsty from the summer heat and the novelty of being outside has worn off, but there are other, better things to concentrate on.

Like how apparently he’s been unfounded in his fears that Hoya and Sungjong won’t like Sungyeol and Dongwoo. Given that Dongwoo and Hoya have been talking nonstop about their musical interests for at least half the time, they’ve already forged a friendship. And Sungjong, while occasionally annoying, is pretty endearing. If he’s grown on Sunggyu in only a short amount of time, he’s likely grown on Dongwoo and Sungyeol.

Sunggyu’s ears barely catch the sound of Sungyeol laughing, and when he traces the sound, it’s a little surprising to see that it’s Myungsoo who’s made him. Myungsoo’s got Jiyeon up on his shoulders in a secure grip, bouncing on his heels a little, while saying something to Sungyeol that he must find funny. Sungyeol laughs again and it looks real. He’s enjoying Myungsoo’s almost exclusive company, and no one is forcing him to.

Sunggyu leans his back against the railing and watches them some more. He notices the way that Myungsoo is kind and patient with Jiyeon, even when she starts pulling his hair, and how Sungyeol touches Myungsoo’s sleeve, then elbow. It’s a light touch, barely there to begin with, but Myungsoo’s face lights up every time he feels it.

“Hey!” Sungjong calls out, dashing to Sunggyu’s side. “Can we go inside now? To the rec room?” He points to Dongwoo who must be the one actually making the suggestion.

“Why?” Sunggyu asks, eyes narrowed.

When Sungjong speaks again the words have Sunggyu heading over to Hoya and Dongwoo’s side. He balls his hand into a first and fights the urge to hit his friend.

“We are not teaching a twelve year old how to play poker, Dongwoo.”

Dongwoo points out, “This kid is a natural born hustler. I’m just thinking of cultivating that talent.”

Sungjong pouts. “I’m thirsty. If we go to the rec room we can get a drink and relax.”

“Okay, okay,” Sunggyun gives in. He sends Sungjong back to Dongwoo’s side and turns to tell Sungyeol.

“Actually,” Sungyeol says afterwards, surprising Sunggyu, “I’ll meet you guys there.”

“Huh?”

“And here, take Ji.” Sungyeol hands Jiyeon over to Sunggyu without waiting for permission. The toddler is obviously starting to wind down, drooping against Sunggyu after being worn out for the past half hour. If Sunggyu is very lucky, she may skip past cranky and just pass out in his arms. He’s crossing his fingers.

“Where are you going?” Sunggyu asks, but he can sort of guess, if the looks between Sungyeol and Myungsoo mean anything.

Unapologetically, Sungyeol tugs on Myungsoo’s hand and starts pulling him away, calling back to Sunggyu, “Myungsoo has to go back to work now. I’m going to walk him back. Meet you in the rec room on deck D.”

“What about Sungjong?” Sunggyu calls after them. “He needs someone in the military to move around the ship!”

Myungsoo promises, “You’ll be fine to go to the rec room. Don’t make any stops along the way. I’ll get someone to walk you back!” But his attention is clearly focused on the way Sungyeol is holding his hand and how closer they’re walking.

Dongwoo shuffles up to Sunggyu’s side and asks, “Where’s Sungyeol going, and with Cadet Retentive?”

“Honestly,” Sunggyu says, “I think they kind of like each other.”

Hoya joins them, remarking, “Didn’t you two have to force him to ask the cadet to us out here in the first place?”

“Stranger things have happened,” Sunggyu points out. Like zombies. “Come on,” he says, gesturing for Sungjong to come over. “We’re going to go to the rec room for a few hours. Sungjong, we just lost our to apparent true love, so you stick close to us.”

Dongwoo whispers to Sunggyu, “You really think Sungyeol likes that stick in the mud?”

Sunggyu doesn’t know for sure, but if it is true, it’s more than a sweet idea. The important things, like love, are the things they can’t afford to lose.

There are three recreational rooms on the ship, and the one on deck D is the smallest, but that’s why it’s preferred. Fewer people are in the room when they arrive, and none of them seem to care one bit that Sungjong is obviously without an . Though who knows if anyone else actually knows about what a group M is.

Much to Sunggyu’s chagrin, Dongwoo spends the next half hour teaching Sungjong to perfect the game of poker, and Sungjong spends the hour and a half after that, swindling money off nearly everyone in the room. Sunggyu doesn’t know what he’ll actually use the money for, considering the economy is likely dead in the water, but maybe he’s playing just for bragging rights now.

By the time Sungyeol arrives, looking suspiciously pleased with himself, Sungjong’s moved on to blackjack and pinochle. Jiyeon’s sleeping soundly on a nearby sofa after a fresh diaper change, the likes of which Sunggyu may never recover from, and Sunggyu thinks this is the most relaxed they’ve been since the world ended.

However, it isn’t long before Dongwoo is sighing dramatically, looking at his watch. Five minutes after that he climbs to his feet and says, “I guess I have to get going.” It’s around an hour before noon and Sunggyu remembers that Dongwoo has afternoon laundry duty.

“What about you?” Sunggyu asks Hoya, realizing he knows everyone’s duty assignments except for his.

Hoya’s got his work card in his back pocket, not the safest place to keep it in Sunggyu’s mind, and says, “Dinner service.”

Sunggyu perks immediately. “Me too.”

“Cool.” Hoya holds his fist out for a bump from Sunggyu, and Sunggyu returns it like they’ve been doing it for years.

“That’s not fair,” Dongwoo complains, but he’s sated easily enough by a few fist bumps of his own. Then he’s off, promising to see Sunggyu before the dinner meal.

“I’m hungry,” Sungjong complains a little while later. “Why don’t we get lunch? That should be illegal.”

Sungyeol, deep into a game of monopoly, tells Sungjong, “There are a lot of people on this ship, Sungjong. That’s a lot of people to feed several times a day. We’re very close to reaching our destination right now, but it’s better to be cautious with our supplies. But Myungsoo did tell me that if you’re especially nice to the guys who work in the kitchen, they’ll sneak you snacks once in a while, or double portions at meal times.”

“Oh,” Sunggyu questions. “Myungsoo just happened to mention this to you.”

Sungyeol scowls at him. “I was asking him about food availability because of Jiyeon’s restrictive diet. That’s all. Don’t make that face at me.”

“I’m not the one who’s suddenly had a change of heart over cadet puppy.”

With Sungjong distracted, Sungyeol flashes Sunggyu his middle finger. “He’s not bad, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I thought he was just this creeper, but he’s not. He’s funny and smart and nice and so what if I like him.”

Sunggyu puts his hands up in mock defeat. “Okay, okay. If you want to like Myungsoo, that’s perfectly fine.”

Sungyeol rolls the dice in front of him and moves the top hat he’s playing as a few spaces on the board. “I wouldn’t be commenting on Myungsoo and I, Sunggyu. You’re the one with the stalker.”

Sunggyu sobers at that. He half expects to go back to his room and find something else. He’s a little scared to, actually.

“Ha ha,” Sunggyu forces out. “Point taken.”

They spend the rest of the day lounging around, playing board games like they’re kids again, taking turns on the one pinball machine in the corner, and making plans to do the same thing the next day.

“We’re going to hit Japan very soon,” Sunggyu says. “I don’t know for sure what’ll happen to us then, but things will be different.” He intends to enjoy his friends as much as he can in the moment.

Just before Hoya and Sunggyu need to leave for their duty assignments, Myungsoo reappears. He says it’s to Sungjong back to his cabin, but Sunggyu thinks it has a lot more to do with Sungyeol.

“You make sure you don’t move an inch until I get back,” Sunggyu overhears Hoya telling Sungjong. “Not an inch. Do you understand?”

Sungjong has a smartass response ready to go the instant Hoya starts ragging on him to behave himself, but Sunggyu understands both of them better than they likely understand themselves. Hoya must be terrified to leave Sungjong for the first time, and Sunjong can do his best to hide it all he wants, but Sunggyu can tell he secretly likes Hoya fretting over him.

“Let’s go,” Hoya says finally to Sunggyu. “We don’t want to be late.

The dinner service starts at eighteen hundred hours promptly, and Sunggyu and Hoya swipe their work duty cards in the proper machine, logging their presence, almost at seventeen hundred hours on the dot.

But it quickly becomes clear to Sunggyu that he and Hoya may be working the same area at the same time, but they won’t be doing the same thing. There are a baker’s dozen civilians who’ve reported for the dinner meal, but they get split into a group of three and ten.

Sunggyu and two others, a boy and a girl just a little older looking than him, are the only ones who remain back in the kitchen area.

Sunggyu dares to ask the cadet nearest him, “Where are the others going?”

For once it seems like Sunggyu’s found someone who doesn’t know he’s Yunho’s brother right off the back. The lack of preferential treatment is somewhat of a sudden novelty.

The cadet says easily enough, “Groups C and D still take their meals in their assigned quarters, the others are being shown the most effective way to distribute everything. That’s going to be their task tonight.”

Then everyone hushes, and an older man, an officer by the stripes on his uniform, enters the kitchen area. Sunggyu wisely asks no more questions.

But he learns a lot.

Unlike breakfast, which is a first come, first serve basis, the dinner meal is broken into two different but overlapping segments. The civilians are expected to begin their meal at around eighteen hundred hours, and the military around nineteen. The meal ends roughly at around twenty, but officers are allowed an extension. Sunggyu also learns that the kitchen stays open a good deal of the night for anyone working around the clock, and Sunggyu thinks this is most likely when Yunho manages to eat. He’s probably the guy who comes shuffling in at three in the morning for something to keep him going.

Meal preparation takes only half an hour, and by the time the first civilians are wandering in, Sunggyu is already manning the mashed potato station like a pro.

It’s honestly an easy dinner service. He gets the portioning down just right by the time Dongwoo is there to , and short changes him on purpose with a knowing look. And when the military comes through, Sunggyu spots Nichkhun and doubles up his portion as a throwback to that morning. Nichkhun gives him a thumbs up and Sunggyu feels a burst of happiness.

The clean up is much harder than the setup, and Sunggyu’s stomach is rumbling badly by the time they’re finished.

The officer in charge of them relays, “You guys did a good job.” And when Hoya returns with the others, they get to a have a meal just the thirteen of them, along with the handful of cadets working alongside them. They’ll actually get to have their meal before everyone else tomorrow, now that they know what they’re doing. Sunggyu is kind of looking forward to it.

“You want to meet up for breakfast tomorrow?” Hoya asks when they’re preparing to part. It’s almost twenty-one hundred hours and Sunggyu is full enough to feel sleeply. There’s no doubt he’s eaten more tonight than several other nights combined. Working hard seems to equate eating more.

“What about Sungjong?” Sunggyu asks.

Hoya waves him off. “I talked to Sungyeol earlier. Myungsoo is tripping over himself to impress him and keep him happy, so Sungyeol’s going to get him to act as Sungjong’s again. And maybe he might be able to do something about that issue itself. Sungyeol told me he’s been dropping hints to Myungsoo that he’d really appreciate and thank anyone who could do that for his friend.”

Sunggyu says, “Tell Sungyeol not to pimp himself out, please.”

“You’re a dirty old man,” Hoya laughs out. “Sungyeol doesn’t mean that, Sunggyu. He’s hinting to Myungsoo that he’d be willing to go out on a date with someone who did a favor like that for him. Considering the fact that he seems to be more than a little warmed up to Myungsoo, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Okay, then,” Sunggyu calls out. “Breakfast. Meet you there at six. Gotta get a good table.”

Sunggyu’s walk back to his cabin, where Dongwoo might already be passed out, is less than ten minutes away. But he only makes it about halfway before someone is blocking his path.

The man in front of him makes Sunggyu freeze. Fear and panic roar so loudly in Sunggyu’s ears that he almost loses his balance. He puts a hand against the nearby metal wall to steady himself, and forces himself to breath.

Because in front of him, like a black hole away his good mood, is the captain’s son himself.

Woohyun.

The other man says simply, “We need to talk.”

Sunggyu wants to run.

“Follow me,” Woohyun says, turning on heel. And Sunggyu, too afraid of what might happen to Yunho if he refuses, trails after him.