Yuming's POV

The first thing I noticed was the silence. It pressed against me, heavy and suffocating, as though the world itself had stopped to mourn. The sea stretched endlessly in every direction, the lifeboat rocking gently with the motion of the waves.

I sat with my knees drawn up to my chest, the damp fabric of my dress clinging to my skin. My arms wrapped tightly around myself, trying to stave off the chill that seemed to seep into my very bones.

Across from me, Jun sat with his back against the edge of the boat. His eyes were half-closed, his expression unreadable as always, though his shoulders sagged with exhaustion.

It was hard to believe that we had survived.

The events aboard the ship replayed in my mind like a vivid nightmare. The faces of the sick, their vacant eyes and unnatural movements, haunted me even now. I could still hear their groans, the relentless pounding of their fists against the barricade, the sharp clash of steel as Jun fought to protect us.

Protect me.

My gaze flicked toward him, lingering for a moment before I quickly looked away.

I didn't know what to make of him. He was harsh, unyielding, and often infuriating. But there was more to him than that—something I couldn't quite name.

"You're staring," he said suddenly, his voice startling me.

"I wasn't," I lied, my cheeks warming despite the cold.

His lips twitched, almost like he was amused, but he didn't press the matter. Instead, he shifted slightly, his movements slow and deliberate.

"How's your arm?" he asked, nodding toward the shallow cut I'd gotten during the fight.

I glanced down at it, the makeshift bandage he had wrapped around it earlier still in place. "It's fine."

"Good." He leaned his head back against the side of the boat, closing his eyes again.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the waves against the boat, a soothing rhythm that did little to calm the turmoil in my mind.

"What happens now?" I asked quietly.

He didn't open his eyes. "We find land."

"And then?"

"Then we survive."

His words were simple, but they carried a weight that made my chest tighten. Survival was all we had left, wasn't it?

The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I hugged my knees tighter.

"Here."

I looked up to see him holding out a flask.

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"What is it?"

"Water."

I hesitated before taking it, my fingers brushing against his as I did. The touch was fleeting, but it left an impression that lingered longer than I cared to admit.

The water was cool and refreshing, a welcome reprieve from the salty air. I handed the flask back to him, murmuring a quiet thanks.

He nodded, taking a sip himself before tucking it away.

"You're quieter than usual," he said after a moment.

I frowned. "Do you expect me to be cheerful after everything that's happened?"

"No." His gaze met mine, and there was something in his eyes that made me falter. "But you're tougher than you look."

It wasn't a compliment, exactly, but it wasn't an insult either. I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't.

Instead, I looked out over the water, letting the silence settle between us once more.

The hours passed slowly, the sun climbing higher into the sky. The warmth was a welcome change from the cold of the night, but it brought with it a new kind of discomfort.

Sweat beaded on my forehead, and my throat grew dry despite the water we had shared. The horizon remained stubbornly empty, the promise of land feeling more like a cruel joke with each passing moment.

Jun remained composed, his sharp eyes scanning the distance for any sign of salvation.

I envied his calm.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" I asked suddenly.

He raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?"

"You're too... collected. Like you're used to this kind of thing."

He smirked, though there was no humor in it. "I've been through worse."

The weight of his words was palpable, and I found myself wanting to ask more. But the look in his eyes warned me against it.

Instead, I asked the question that had been gnawing at the back of my mind.

"Why did you help me?"

He tilted his head, studying me like he was trying to decide whether or not I was worth the answer.

"Because I didn't want to carry a corpse back to the ship," he said finally.

It wasn't the answer I had expected, and my cheeks flushed with irritation. "You're impossible."

"And you're still alive," he countered, leaning back with a faint smirk.

I glared at him, but the truth of his words silenced any retort I might have had.

The sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon when Jun finally spoke again.

"There," he said, pointing.

I followed his gaze and felt a surge of relief as I spotted the faint outline of land in the distance.

It wasn't much—just a dark shape against the orange glow of the setting sun—but it was enough.

Jun picked up the oars, his movements steady despite the exhaustion that had to be weighing on him.

"Get some rest," he said without looking at me.

I wanted to argue, but the weariness in my body won out. I curled up on the floor of the boat, my arms wrapped around myself as I closed my eyes.

The sound of the oars cutting through the water was rhythmic, almost lulling, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to drift.

I woke to the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

Blinking against the light of the rising sun, I sat up to find that we had reached land.

Jun was already out of the boat, securing it to a jagged rock with a length of rope.

"Come on," he said, his voice gruff. "We need to move."

I climbed out of the boat, my legs unsteady as they met solid ground. The sand beneath my feet was coarse and damp, and the air smelled of salt and seaweed.

The island was small, its shores lined with rocky cliffs and sparse vegetation.

"Is this where we're staying?" I asked, my voice thick with sleep.

"For now," Jun replied, scanning the area. "We need supplies, and this is as good a place as any to start."

He handed me the dagger I had dropped during the fight, his fingers brushing against mine for the briefest of moments.

"Stay close," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I nodded, gripping the weapon tightly as we began to make our way inland.

The terrain was rough, the ground uneven and littered with sharp rocks. But it was quiet—eerily so.

"Do you think they'll follow us?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jun glanced back at me, his expression unreadable. "I don't know."

The weight of his words settled over me like a lead blanket.

For the first time, I realized just how precarious our situation was. We were stranded, vulnerable, and completely alone.

But as I watched Jun move ahead of me, his every step purposeful and steady, I felt a flicker of something I hadn't expected.

Hope.