Day 4 and their rations are abysmal. Being stranded on an island with just one other person is one thing, but when that one person is your ex, things get... tricky, to say the least. Jeongyeon has been scavenging the skies and scouring the ripples in the far horizon for any sign of a boat or a plane, but the results have been - disheartening.

She's currently stoking their last fire log, brows knitted as she begs the embers to burn for a little longer, lest the snores from beside her quiet. By pure luck, the black box from the plane had washed ashore with them to - wherever the this is. There's a set of flint and steel in their inventory if necessary, but Jeongyeon had hoped that they'd be rescued long before that point.

All she can do right now is fixate her gaze on the fire, on their whittling packs of freeze-dried mystery meals, and just - pray. Jeongyeon had never been much for religion, and she still isn't sure how she feels about it now, but at least for the sake of Sana - she'll crane her neck as high as it can go, until the moon might see her plea, until her face burns with its craters. With that, the last flame dies, and Jeongyeon is left to inhale the ashes, her calloused, hard-worn fingers gripping the bumps of a thin birch stick.

/

"Careful," Jeongyeon shoots out, eyeing the tear-shaped drip sagging at the foot of Sana's orange popsicle, swaying to and fro like a clock pendulum. Only a matter of time until it hits zero.

Sana snatches the melted drop in a single sweep of her tongue, polishing it off with a flirty bite at the popsicle's crest. "There," she says, satisfied with herself.

Jeongyeon casts her a wary glance, cheeks flushed from the assailant that is the lemony sun, turning her spit sour and her car into a hotbox. The air conditioner is a deflating balloon at best, and it'd take hours to clean the stain, Jeongyeon's polyester upholstery taking no prisoners.

"So, have you thought more about the road trip I mentioned last week?" Jeongyeon brakes the car before a crosswalk. Grade-schoolers hop across like kangaroos, trickles of sweat running down their tanned skin. They avoid stepping on the white lines.

"Oh, um - I haven't asked my parents yet," Sana's face swivels away from hers, eyes out the window, popsicle forgotten.

"Can you ask them soon? I need to check with my dad if I can borrow his car, otherwise I'll have to- "

"Oh crap," comes Sana's voice, then the glovebox opening and friction scraping and grating, like trying to use an old broom.

Jeongyeon turns her head, cackling at what she sees: Sana furiously rubbing at a dark circle on her baby blue skirt. Sana sighs after a few moments, but something about it sounds not like resignation but more like relief; like she'd just been saved.

"It's okay, it's laundry day tomorrow anyway," Sana says, going back to happily eating her popsicle.

"I don't know how your clothes aren't all worn out by now, with how often you wash them," Jeongyeon shakes her head.

The rest of the car ride goes by as normal, and when they're parked in front of Sana's house, she doesn't forget their goodbye kiss.

"See ya tomorrow," Sana murmurs against Jeongyeon's lips, before bolting out and to her front door before Jeongyeon can do or say anything else.

When she's three houses down the street, Jeongyeon notices a twinkle in her periphery; it blinds her, and it takes just a second for her to realize that Sana'd dropped something, again. Probably took it off while she was trying to rid herself of the sticky residue decorating her fingers and gluing itself to her joints. With the small pileup behind her, Jeongyeon decides that it's best to just pull over here and run it over by hand rather than try and juggle a u-ey.

Jeongyeon's hand hovers over Sana's front door, knuckle at ready for a series of melodic, dull knocks. Clutched in her other hand is the promise ring she'd given to Sana on her last birthday, hula-hooping around her pinky.

/

Jeongyeon has been fiddling with the flint for an hour, but she can't quite manage to conjure a spark. Next to her, Sana's battling with the icy frost of the hemisphere, and Jeongyeon is really, really trying. Pearls of sweat trickle down the cliff of her jaw and puddle into spots on her shirt. She grits her teeth, tries again. The sky is gray with the sun nearly out of view, its Maleficent sneer descending below the horizon, razor-sharp molars the last to go.

She's attempting to follow the mini Survival 101 guide that'd been squashed against the walls of the black box, discolored and misshapen and faded enough that she has to squint to read it. The pictures inside the book only vaguely matched the instruments accompanying it but Jeongyeon makes do. She has to, anyway.

"Maybe I should try."

Jeongyeon whips her head toward Sana, mouth drawn into a scowl. "Are you out of your mind? Look at yourself."

Sana's sporting a makeshift arm sling, cobbled together with a large strip from the tail-end of Jeongyeon's long-sleeve, her wounded shoulder an effect of the crash. But still, her face says, and she looks scared.

Jeongyeon exhales a weighted breath. Irons out the frustration wrinkled into her forehead and punctured in her pupils, beating up Sana's worries as best as she can, even with the wimpy bush of tinder in the space between them.

"No," Jeongyeon says. Sana still needs to heal, after all.

Sana sighs, and her nod raises a white flag in surrender.

Jeongyeon tries again, and again, until finally the obsidian black sky is shot with a blaze. Their campsite is lit with a deep red and orange, and Jeongyeon can see the glow bloom across Sana's face, assuaging the cold flush on her cheeks, and the sparkles climbing into her eyes.

Jeongyeon is so proud of herself.

/

They're down to their last two water bottles, and the coconuts on the island are starting to take a dismal toll on their bowel systems. Jeongyeon decides to investigate the perimeter of the land for fresh water. Really, she should have done this earlier, but that little hope of being rescued had still prodded at her brain and s its way into her rationale.

What she finds is even better: a small cave a ways yonder from their current campsite. They'll have to cross some ocean ripples, and watch out for the rocks and sharp coral poisoning its shallow floor, but - the cave's ground is dry, and relatively warm, and the enclosure will protect them from the wind and any tropical storms that might pass by. And the best part? A small stream flowing through the edges of its walls, its sight an oasis after a long run. Water, she ekes out. Her parched lips whisper a sigh of relief.

Jeongyeon decides to linger there for a little while longer, the trickling water gracing her with some peace of mind. She thinks of home: her dog Nanan constantly tipping over her food bowl, waking up an hour early for office-wide coffee runs, how she always messed up at least one person's order and - - she's probably lost her internship. But she can just work with her mom until -

Suddenly tears threaten to break. Her family must be looking for her. Now the trickle doesn't sound so wonderful, and being alone doesn't feel so great. She heads back to Sana, letting the afternoon sun beat her tears to salt.

When Jeongyeon sees her, nestled on the shore and gingerly checking her wound, one last memory surges through her in a ripple. It's just a second long, almost negligible: a flash to six years ago. She hadn't been really doing anything, just lying in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, teetering the tightline between sentience and her dreams. But it was then - when her mind was void of the day's worries - that she thought of Sana. Missed her. Although her dreams had always betrayed her, at least in the dead of 2am she woke on instinct for her bedside glass of water to wash it all away.

She wonders if Sana sometimes thought of her too. In the land before the water.

Sana catches her eye then, and smiles. There isn't really anything in it, but she thinks there doesn't have to be either.

The trek to and from the campsite and the cave is an hour round-trip, and it takes several trips to gather all of their supplies. Sana had insisted on following behind her like a lost puppy despite Jeongyeon's numerous attempts to tell her to just sit or lie down or do something that's nothing!

"It's my arm that's hurt, Jeongyeon. Not my leg," Sana'd crossed her arms as best as she could, and held her posture with a cocked brow.

Jeongyeon had been too tired to retort to that, and so obliged. She tilts their things at an angle, taut against her abdomen, feigning that Sana's weak hold on the other end is actually helping. The pressure creases red lines onto her skin, but that's just as well.

They trudge through garbage-ridden sand, their plimsolls becoming wet sponges when they cross the water, discomfort seeping between their toes. But they make it to the cave in one piece, nearly losing a flare gun to the biting ocean in the process.

The first night is spent sharing the last package of what Jeongyeon guesses is dry beef strips, their chewing and badly-concealed stomachs growling against the cave walls, sounds crafting their own conversation. The fire burns hot between them, and the water boiling wafts the tiniest sense of respite.

/

Jeongyeon tries to make it homey.

Key word tries, but she thinks the emerald leaves she's strung around the cave have a certain aesthetic, imbuing the fissures imprinted into the walls with a kind of life; the kind that allows her to not think about how long this really might act as a home. She hangs jewels of purple flowers off of them for Sana. They curve into necklaces, albeit uneven, but pretty enough, and hey - it's the thought that counts, right?

Their sleeping bags lay on either side of the fire, close enough to feel the warmth but far enough to prevent any accidental mishaps. Extra leaves reside under Sana's bag, offering as much support as Jeongyeon can manage. Tucked into her corner are a bundle of extra sticks and tinder, as well as their box of supplies. She makes a mental note to dig out a latrine some ways into the forest tomorrow.

Jeongyeon takes one last look around, until her eyes land on the quiet awe brushed across the face of a just-entering Sana; with her bright eyes that sparkle gold, and teeth that cutely peek out when she turns to Jeongyeon with a big smile. Jeongyeon returns it instinctively, her lips tugged up on a puppet line.

As Sana continues to circle the cave, investigating every crack like she's seeing a new world wonder, Jeongyeon really feels the sense of home sweet home that people talk about.

/

Jeongyeon's really ing tired of coconuts. She can tell Sana is too, not that Sana would ever mention it, but she can see it in the hesitance and the grimace every time they take bite after bite of the meaty fruit. Their jaws chomp like metallic clockwork, steely teeth wheeling through its gears to scarf down their only source of nutrition. Jeongyeon decides it's finally time to try her hand at fishing, opting to lay out the fishing net first in a sort of random spot close to their cave.

In a few hours, she's looking plainly at a lone cookie wrapper and two tiny crabs stuck in the mesh grid by their claws. Well, it's better than nothing, she supposes. And a few hours later, it'll turn out that crab shells elicit the same dull chew as every other meal.

Jeongyeon exhales, finally hefting out the conjoined pieces of a long pole, and the roll of fishing line from the black box. "Guess it's fishin' time," she mutters, eyes scanning the area for something she can use as bait.

"Here," Sana drops a silver earring into her palm; it glimmers with every move.

"Sana, I don't think fish are interested in eating earrings."

Sana rolls her eyes. "They like shiny things," she says. "I used to go fishing with my dad."

"Oh. Okay." Jeongyeon exits the cave at that, and a low thanks floats back just audible enough for Sana to hear.

/

Fishing is boring, Jeongyeon learns. Extremely, utterly, otherworldly boring. She's been sitting in this same spot for what feels like hours, deflating, hot sand granules traveling into cracks she'd rather not think about, and no fish or other sea critters seem to want to tug on her bell. Maybe she's been using the wrong bait, because she'd be kidding everyone around her if she agrees that that flimsy little poop-colored worm she'd found under a rock seems appetizing.

Then she feels a strong pull. Might as well have been a whale on the other end considering the amount of veins currently popping in Jeongyeon's puny arms, but her resolve is strong because damn if she'll have another coconut for dinner. And with one last heave with her entire upper body, the medium-sized yellowtail comes hurling at her, floundering in the sky before landing gracefully in the sand.

Sana talks her through the de-gutting and cleaning process as best as her memory allows her, Jeongyeon failing to hold back a yuck the entire time, and with that - dinner is served.

"Could use some salt."

Jeongyeon looks up. Sana's gaze is fixated on the fish, picking the bones out between her forefingers.

Jeongyeon isn't sure if that was a joke, considering this is the best meal they've had since they've been here, but seeing the tiny smirk spread across Sana's lips, she chooses to add, "maybe we should've sprinkled in a bit of sea water."

Sana's teeth begin to show at that, and Jeongyeon's expression turns smug. They sleep peacefully that night, satiated smiles adorning their faces. Jeongyeon doesn't think about how comfortable this all is.

/

Jeongyeon isn't amazing at math, but judging by the terrible odor her body is emitting, she thinks it's been a couple of weeks, at least. Of course, a hot shower isn't an option, no matter how much she longs for one; the ribbons of summer rain, the wispy billows of steam, the fresh dew scented with her favorite shampoo - she misses it now more than ever.

She eyes the black box seated a few meters away, innocent and inviting, and an idea whirls its way into her brain. It'll take all day, but she thinks she can acquire enough water to fill it up for a makeshift bath.

Jeongyeon's muscles relax as she lowers herself into the container. There isn't much space to move at all, knees nearly taped to her chest, but she'd boiled the last pot of water to produce at least a lukewarm bath, and with the fire nearby - it's nice. The water enters her bloodstream in gentle waves, massaging her blood cells until they calm to a simmer.

She doesn't fail to notice the shuffling from the other end of the cave, and the hard swallows that bounce off the walls until they settle heavily between them.

Jeongyeon can sense the tide change.

/

It's another day until she hears it - during breakfast, as she's attempting to scour out a fish bone lodged between her two front teeth. Toothpicks were a throwaway back home, but here, Jeongyeon has learned to miss even the smallest of luxuries.

"Jeongyeon?"

"Huh?" Jeongyeon responds absentmindedly, tossing the bone into the small pit of fire.

"Would you mind bringing up a bath for me?"

Jeongyeon pauses, looks up. Sana is drawing circles into the sand with her pointer finger, eyes overly focused on the oblong spheres.

"Tonight," Jeongyeon tells her, then decides to wander around the island for the remainder of the day; until the sun sets, until night falls, and she drowns in the shadows of the moon.

She makes sure to boil three pots of water for Sana, steeping a handful of calendula flowers she'd found into the last one. She's pretty sure that it's one of those herbs that have anti-inflammatory properties, so it should help Sana's still-healing shoulder. Plus, it just smells good.

"All ready for you," Jeongyeon mutters, offering Sana a weak smile as she walks past.

She can hear Sana sigh from behind her, then the dissonant waves crashing against the gritty interior of the box. A sizzle hisses from the flame.

Jeongyeon's brows come together in worry (and maybe, a bit of curiosity). She braves a glance over her shoulder. Sana seems to be struggling, confined to the space and the minimal mobility of her arm, cursing under her breath. Jeongyeon doesn't take a moment to think about what she does next: walks over on pure instinct, and places a gentle, strong hand over Sana's.

Sana bolts up in recoil, staring up at Jeongyeon. "What are you doing?"

"Let me help."

"I can do it myself," Sana huffs, flailing her good arm in a sad, laughable way. She sighs. "Okay."

"Okay." Jeongyeon proceeds to rip off another portion of her shirt, then folds it into a small square to act as a washcloth.

The brief moment of silence is palpable. "I'm sorry you always have to take care of me."

"I don't mind."

"Still," Sana speaks in a softer tone, "you shouldn't have to be so strong."

Jeongyeon doesn't think she's very strong at all, and so doesn't reply. She begins with the bad shoulder, peeling back the gauze like a stamp to a letter she'll never send. The wound doesn't look infected - good.

Her breathing hitches when they brush skins. This is the first time they've really touched since Jeongyeon had originally dressed the wound, and it's this that causes the reality of the situation to dawn on Jeongyeon. Still, she'll focus on the task at hand, she tells herself, even as her lungs feel like they're being vacuum-sealed.

Jeongyeon tries her best to flush the grime away, erase the toxins of the crash and illuminate the darkness outside until Sana's skin is an unruffled, velvety candle, its wick Jeongyeon's hand. Goosebumps cultivate and bloom into themselves, starting at the nape of Sana's neck and meandering down to parts unseen, settling into the wafers between her toes.

Sana's skin radiates silver. Jeongyeon wades across the expanse of Sana like a spindle atop a record player, circling round like rediscovering an old song, and all you want to do is play it over and over again. Then she untangles the knotted threads of Sana's hair - black roots growing and bleeding into a dyed scarlet, its molten hue burning her fingertips.

Neither of them speak. The scent of the calendula floats into their atmosphere, bubbling into their own diaphanous cloud. The steam envelops them, and Jeongyeon forgets where she is for a moment. Right now, her hands are soaking in the path of memory lane - where she's holding Sana's hand as they lie on their favorite hill during one of their late night escapades.

The moon shines brightly above them, and the stars reflect a kind of magic. Sana's hands feel a little greasy; probably from the french fries they'd gobbled up in Jeongyeon's car earlier.

"Do you ever think about life after college?"

Jeongyeon rubs at a spot on her thigh where a particularly long blade of grass had chafed against her. "Not really. Why?"

"Sometimes I try to think about what my life will be like five years from now, and the only thing that I can really picture is you," Sana says, "crystal clear."

Jeongyeon nearly calls her cheesy, but Sana's tone of voice seems to be bathed in the kind of serenity that makes her heart vessels twine together in marriage. Her body is an ice sculpture, palmed by a warm hand, melting into new shapes and sizes as time goes by, until all she can think about is a small box in her palm.

Jeongyeon decides to call her cheesy anyway. "Are you still going to be this cheesy?" she chuckles, earning a light smack on her arm. "But I can't say I don't feel the same way."

"I know."

Jeongyeon is splashed back when she hears a sharp intake of breath, like a tornado whizzing past her. She has to suppress her own gasp when she sees where her hand is; just cascading down into the pool, right above Sana's chest. Not too close, but not very far either. She motions upward toward Sana's neck as casually as she can, pretending not to notice when Sana shudders.

Sana's cheeks tint cherry when Jeongyeon offers her the washcloth, motioning slightly lower so Sana gets the hint. Jeongyeon's pupils focus on the sparks from the fire.

"I think I'm good now."

"Okay. Do you need help wi- "

"No," Sana blurts, "I'm okay. Thank you."

Jeongyeon nods, moving out of the way so Sana can get out.

"The flowers - what are they called?"

"Calendula," Jeongyeon says.

"They're nice."

"Yeah."

Jeongyeon drains the water from the box into the ocean, catching the calendula bundle just before it falls. She tosses the sprigs into the fire, and the fumes live in their dreams through the night.

/

Jeongyeon takes to long walks along the beach. Her toes feel nice in the sand, and the wind feels nice in her hair, and the coastline paints itself to a vacation postcard, and maybe - not being in Sana's space feels safer. She burrows into the granules like a small rodent.

Now that the immediate danger of just surviving is gone, it's exponentially more difficult to keep her thoughts from straying toward Sana. There are more fish on the other end of the island, she'll say. Sana will just bid her good luck, and whether she believes Jeongyeon or not doesn't really matter.

The walk back feels like trudging through a lava pit. Sana is always situated under a palm tree near their cave. She's made it hers, it seems. Maybe napping, maybe just resting her eyes. It's not like there's much else to do. Sometimes she'll just be sitting, an unmoving statue, staring out at the ocean in musing. It's these times that her eyes always find their way to Jeongyeon's, some hundred yards apart, but still - there's something there.

"Did you know Wrigley's was the first product to have a barcode?"

Jeongyeon stops mid-chew. "Uh, no?" comes out dumbly.

"Well, it was," Sana says, "in 1974."

"Oh. That's cool, I guess."

"Yeah."

A few moments pass. "A single noodle of spaghetti is called a spaghetto."

Somehow, that cracks Sana up until she's nearly choking on their dinner. Jeongyeon laughs from afar, handing her some water, taking measures to grasp it with just the tips of her fingers.

It's a pretty lame fact, Jeongyeon admits. She saw it on a poster somewhere; probably that Italian restaurant her sister likes, although Jeongyeon thinks more for the cute waiter than the food, which is mediocre at best. But she's glad it made Sana laugh.

/

Jeongyeon finds out that she's terrible at ring toss.

To save her from embarrassment, Sana drags her back into the bustle of the fair, commenting that these games are always rigged anyway. Jeongyeon heartily agrees, popping a bit of cotton candy into , eyes glinting as she feels it dissolve on her tongue like a mirage coming into view.

This is their first official date.

Jeongyeon had thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to show off a new, dashing side to Sana, but instead the both of them just turned out to be dreadful at games. But even with the pummel from the sun and the overpriced food and the bile constantly halfway up , it's nice just - being here with Sana. After months of dancing around each other, Jeongyeon had said maybe going to the fair together would be fun, and maybe it was her clammy hands and refusal to meet Sana's eyes that gave her away, or maybe Sana just knew that it'd be different from one of their usual hangouts. Sana's always been able to read her like a book.

When the sky begins to turn a pretty shade of violet, they decide to ride a tandem paddling boat into the sea. There were older couples, younger couples, parents with their children also buoyant in the water around. The air is quiet.

Sana looks especially beautiful in this light, with eyes smiling like the sun, and laughs like a calming breeze.

Jeongyeon wants to kiss her. Badly.

/

Over time, Jeongyeon grows more skilled at fishing and had begun to set traps on dr