Yuming's POV

The days at sea blurred together in a haze of training, exhaustion, and a constant battle to keep my footing on the shifting deck. My arms ached from wielding the sword Jun had practically forced into my hands, and my legs burned from maintaining the stance he insisted was essential.

"Bend your knees, little rat," he'd bark every time I wavered. "You're not trying to topple over with the first gust of wind."

That name grated on my nerves more than anything else. I wasn't a rat, but I bit my tongue, channeling the irritation into every clumsy swing of the sword.

The crew watched with mild amusement at first, some even throwing out comments about my form—or lack of it. But over time, the jibes faded. Maybe they saw that I wasn't giving up, or maybe they simply lost interest. Either way, I was grateful for the reprieve.

What Jun didn't say—and what I refused to admit aloud—was that the training was working. I wasn't good, not by a long shot, but I was better. My swings were steadier, my grip surer, and I didn't stumble nearly as much. The dagger he'd given me felt less foreign in my hand, though I hadn't needed to use it since the nightmarish escape from the city.

Still, the memory lingered.

~~~

The sick.

Their vacant, lifeless eyes.

The way they moved—stumbling, jerking, as if puppeted by invisible strings.

The way they reached for me.

I shuddered, clutching the dagger at my waist as I stared out at the endless horizon. The ocean was calm now, its surface smooth and glittering under the sunlight, but I couldn't shake the unease that had settled deep in my chest.

"You'll wear a hole in the deck if you keep pacing like that," Jun's voice cut through my thoughts.

I turned to see him leaning against the mast, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

"I'm not pacing," I muttered, though I realized my feet had indeed been tracing the same path back and forth.

He raised an eyebrow but didn't press the point. Instead, he nodded toward the dagger at my side. "You're finally carrying it properly."

"I've been carrying it like this for days," I shot back, narrowing my eyes.

"Mm," he hummed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Infuriating man.

"Why do you even care?" I asked, crossing my arms. "Why bother teaching me to fight? It's not like I'll ever be able to hold my own against someone like you."

He pushed off the mast, stepping closer. The easy smirk vanished, replaced by a seriousness that made me tense.

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"You don't need to fight someone like me," he said. "But you need to be able to protect yourself. I'm not always going to be there."

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken meaning.

Before I could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

~~~

That night, sleep came reluctantly, as it often did. The rocking of the ship should have been soothing, but my mind refused to quiet. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the city. The crumbling buildings, the sick swarming around us, Jun's sword cutting through them as he fought to keep me alive.

I rolled onto my side, staring at the shadowed outline of the cabin walls.

Why had he done it? Why had he risked his life for me?

I couldn't make sense of it.

Jun was an enigma, a man who seemed to embody contradictions. He was ruthless, sharp-tongued, and unyielding, yet he had moments of startling kindness—moments that left me questioning everything I thought I knew about him.

~~~

Morning came too soon, and with it, another grueling day.

Jun was relentless, pushing me harder than ever during training. Every misstep earned a correction, every sloppy swing a sharp remark. But there was something different in his tone—a faint edge of approval that he tried to hide but didn't quite manage.

"You're not completely hopeless," he said after I managed to parry one of his strikes without tripping over my own feet.

"Gee, thanks," I muttered, wiping sweat from my brow.

He chuckled, a low sound that sent an inexplicable warmth through me.

"Don't let it go to your head, little rat," he said, stepping back and sheathing his sword. "You're still a long way from being useful."

~~~

By midday, the ship's lookout spotted land on the horizon—a small island, barely more than a speck against the endless blue.

The crew sprang into action, preparing to dock, and I watched from the sidelines, trying to stay out of the way.

The island was a welcome sight after days at sea, but I couldn't shake the unease that had followed me since the city.

Jun must have noticed my hesitation because he appeared at my side, his expression unusually soft.

"Stay close," he said, his voice low.

I nodded, clutching the dagger at my side as we disembarked.

The island was quiet, its jungle-covered interior alive with the sounds of birds and insects. It was a stark contrast to the dead city we had left behind, but the sense of unease remained.

As we moved through the trees, Jun's hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, his eyes scanning the shadows.

"Why are you so tense?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't answer right away. When he did, his tone was grim.

"Because peace like this never lasts."

~~~

His words proved true not long after.

The crew had just finished loading the supplies we'd come for when the attack came.

It started with a sound—a low, guttural growl that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Then they emerged.

The sick.

They came from the jungle, their grotesque forms lurching toward us with terrifying speed.

Panic erupted. The crew scrambled to defend the ship, but the sheer number of the sick threatened to overwhelm us.

"Get back to the ship!" Jun shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos.

I froze, my heart pounding as one of the sick lunged toward me.

Before I could react, Jun was there, his sword flashing as he cut it down.

"Move!" he barked, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the ship.

The next few moments were a blur of terror and noise. The sick were everywhere, their moans drowning out the shouts of the crew.

We fought our way back to the ship, Jun's sword carving a path through the horde.

When we finally reached the deck, I collapsed, gasping for breath.

Jun stood over me, his chest heaving as he wiped blood from his blade.

"You're lucky I was there," he said, his voice sharp.

I glared at him, too shaken to come up with a retort.

He sheathed his sword and turned to the crew, barking orders to raise the anchor and set sail.

As the ship pulled away from the island, I sat in silence, the events of the day replaying in my mind.

Jun's words echoed in my ears: You need to be able to protect yourself.

For the first time, I understood what he meant.

And I vowed to myself that I wouldn't need saving next time.