POV: Jun-ho
The island felt different once you were allowed to touch it.
Not just see it from a bus window or a dorm balcony—but walk its paths, hear gravel crunch under your feet, feel the wind change as the road curved toward the sea. Morning light filtered through the trees in thin sheets, dappling the pavement with shifting shadows. Somewhere far off, waves struck rock in a slow, steady rhythm.
For the first time since arriving, it felt like we were actually here.
Students spilled out across the campus in loose groups, maps folded awkwardly in their hands. Laughter carried easily in the open air.
Someone pointed toward the beach road, already planning an afternoon escape.
I adjusted the strap of my backpack and slowed my pace.
Ara matched it without comment. We'd started walking together without ever deciding to. She kept to my left, a half-step behind—not distant, not close.
Her gaze moved constantly, cataloging things I barely noticed: the placement of security cameras on lampposts, the way certain paths curved out of sight, how the wind funneled differently between buildings.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
It wasn't awkward.
That surprised me. Usually, silence demanded to be filled. Jokes, small talk, something to prove you weren't uncomfortable. But with Ara, it felt…intentional. Like a pause, you didn't rush because you might miss something important if you did.
The campus path sloped gently downward, opening toward a view of the shoreline. Sunlight flashed across the water, bright enough to make me squint. "Pretty." I said finally. "Deceptive." Ara nodded. I glanced at her. "The water?"
"Everything."
"You always think like that?" I smiled faintly.
"Thinking like that keeps you alive."
The words were simple. Flat. But something about the way she said them made them feel heavier than they should have been.
I didn't push.
We walked on.
—
Minjae's voice found us before we found him. "Hey—come on, that's barely past the sign!" He stood near a narrow side road branching off the main path, one foot planted confidently over a faded yellow line painted on the ground.
A metal sign beside him read AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Two island staff members faced him, expressions tight. "You need to step back. That area is restricted." One of them said.
"Relax. I just wanted a look. What's the worst that could happen?" Minjae grinned, spreading his hands.
I felt Ara slow.
So did I.
"Minjae. Back up." I called. He glanced at me. "Seriously? You too?"
"Yeah. Not worth it." I said, keeping my voice calm. The staff member's hand hovered near his radio. Minjae rolled his eyes but stepped back over the line. "Fine. Didn't realize curiosity was illegal."
The staff didn't respond. They watched him for a moment longer than necessary before turning away.
"See that? Power trip." Minjae scoffed once they were gone.
"Or maybe they're just doing their jobs." I said. "You're starting to sound like Daeho." He snorted. "Low blow." I winced. Ara watched Minjae thoughtfully. "They reacted fast. Too fast for a student wandering off." She said. "What's that supposed to mean?" Minjae blinked.
"It means, there's something they don't want you near." She replied evenly. Minjae's grin returned, sharper this time. "Now you're making me curious."
I stepped between them before the conversation could spiral. "How about we all agree not get detained on day three?"
"You're no fun, Jun-ho." Minjae laughed, clapping me on the shoulder. "Someone has to be." I said. As he walked off, still muttering, Ara looked at me again. "You handle people well." She said.
"I just don't like things escalating."
"Neither do I. That's why I watch for them early." She replied. We shared a brief look—an understanding that didn't need words.
—
The shore was quieter.
Most students stuck to the main paths, but a few had wandered down to the rocky edge where the island dipped sharply into the sea. The air smelled stronger here—salt and wet stone, with a hint of seaweed baking in the sun. A younger student stood near the water, holding a fishing rod awkwardly, line tangled around his own wrist.
I recognized him from the ferry. The one who'd nearly dropped his luggage. "You're going to lose an eye like that." I said gently. He jumped. "Oh—Jun-ho, right?"
"Yeah. Here. Let me show you." I crouched beside him. I untangled the line carefully, guiding his hands. He watched intently, biting his lip in concentration. "Fishing's mostly patience. People think it's about strength. It's not." I said.
"What's it about?" He asked. "Control. Knowing when to pull and when to wait." I said after a moment. He nodded solemnly, as if I'd just imparted some great secret. Ara stood a few steps back, observing quietly.
When the line finally cast cleanly into the water, the boy beamed. "Thanks!"
"Don't thank me yet. You still have to catch something." I smiled. He laughed and turned his attention back to the sea. I stood, brushing sand from my hands. Ara met my eyes. "You're good with kids."
"I helped raise my cousin." I said. "You pick things up. Like responsibility." She said. "Someone has to." She looked out at the water, expression unreadable. I shrugged.
—
We regrouped near the central courtyard in the afternoon. Jisoo sat on a low wall, notebook open on his lap, pen tapping absently against the page. "You look like you're mapping an escape route." I joked, dropping beside him. "Just…writing things down." He smiled faintly.
Ara sat across from us, listening without appearing to. "I noticed something. Staff radios. They're not on a public frequency." Jisoo said quietly. "You checked?" I frowned.
"I tried. Static. Or…interference." He said. Ara's gaze sharpened. "Consistently?"
"Yes. And they avoid using them around us." Jisoo replied. I felt a familiar tightening in my chest. "Could be security protocol." I suggested. "Could be. But it feels…off." Jisoo agreed. "You're not wrong." Jisoo looked surprised. "You think so too?" Ara nodded once.
"I think that people who aren't hiding anything don't act like they are." She said carefully.
Silence settled between us.
Then Minjae's laugh cut through it from across the courtyard, loud and carefree. A group of students had gathered around him, animated, alive.
For a moment, the unease receded.
—
Night brought cards, laughter, and badly told stories.
We crowded into one of the dorm common rooms, sitting on the floor in uneven circles. Someone produced a deck of cards. Someone else spilled snacks everywhere. Minjae cheated shamelessly. Jisoo called him out. Ara watched, amused despite herself.
I found myself laughing more than I had in days.
For a while, the island was just an island again. Just before curfew, I stepped out onto the balcony for air. The forest beyond the dorms was dark, a solid wall of shadow. Crickets chirred. The sea whispered distantly.
Something moved at the edge of the treeline.
Just a flicker. A shape passing between trunks.
I blinked.
When I looked again, there was nothing there. The laughter behind me spilled out into the night, warm and human. I stayed where I was a moment longer than necessary, watching the darkness, listening to my own breathing. Then I went back inside.