Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The gas explosion came without warning. 

On a crisp autumn morning in 2064, the heart of Seoul erupted in chaos. The initial blast at Sinchon Station sent a sickly green cloud billowing through the subway tunnels, spreading tendrils of infection through the city's arteries. Within hours, the first cases appeared - people with glazed eyes and jerking movements, attacking anyone within reach. Within days, the infection had spread through most of Seoul's twenty-five districts. 

The military response was swift but ultimately futile. Barricades went up around the city's perimeter, containing the spread but trapping millions inside. Evacuation efforts saved some, but as the infection rates climbed, the government made the brutal decision to seal off the capital entirely. Seoul, the once-beating heart of South Korea, was abandoned to the infected. 

-- 

Two years later, nature had begun reclaiming the city. Vines crawled up the sides of skyscrapers, their windows dark and vacant. The streets that once teemed with life were now haunted by shuffling shadows. Traffic lights still changed their colors mechanically, directing phantom traffic through intersections choked with abandoned vehicles. 

Lieutenant Minji moved silently through the overgrown ruins, her trained eyes scanning the buildings above. Two years of military service had honed her already athletic frame into a weapon, every movement precise and controlled. Her standard-issue combat uniform was customized with extra knife holsters - she'd learned early that bullets weren't always reliable against the infected, but a blade through the brain stem never failed. 

The mission was straightforward: scout for survivors. But something about this sector felt different. The air hummed with... music? 

Fifteen floors above, Lee Siyeon spun lazily in her chair, tapping a wrench against her chin as she studied her latest creation - a makeshift projectile launcher cobbled together from pipes and springs. Her "workshop" was what used to be the living room, now cluttered with salvaged parts and half-finished inventions. A bicycle hooked up to a generator hummed quietly in the corner, powering the stereo that filled the apartment with the cheerful beats of early 2000s K-pop. 

"What do you think, WekWek?" Siyeon asked, glancing at the worn teddy bear perched on a nearby shelf. "Maybe if we adjust the spring tension..." She trailed off, making minute adjustments to her contraption. The bear, as always, maintained its silent vigil. 

Minji adjusted the rifle strap across her chest, straining to hear better. After months of nothing but groaning infected and the whistle of wind through empty buildings, the cheerful pop melody seemed absurd. She pressed forward, drawn to this sign of life. 

Siyeon wasn't always this way - talking to stuffed animals and dancing alone in her apartment. Two years ago, she had been a normal high school student, more interested in napping through classes than studying. But survival had awakened something in her, unlocking an almost savant-like ability to create weapons from whatever she could scavenge. Her latest innovation used chunks of concrete as ammunition, effective against the infected without wasting precious bullets. 

The morning sun filtered through the plastic-covered windows as Siyeon went through her daily routine. Check the water collection system on the balcony. Water the bean sprouts growing under UV lights. Take inventory of her dwindling supply of canned foods. It wasn't much of a life, perhaps, but she had made it work. 

"Lunch time!" she announced to no one in particular, pulling out a can of spam. As she settled by the window with her meal, movement in the overgrown courtyard below caught her eye. Something was moving through the tall grass - too purposeful to be one of the infected. 

Minji felt exposed in the courtyard, but her instincts told her to keep moving. Years of training had taught her to trust those instincts. They'd kept her alive when the infection first spread, when she'd lost her family, when she'd fought her way to the military safe zone with nothing but determination and a kitchen knife. 

Through her scope, Siyeon could make out the figure in military gear moving cautiously between the buildings. A human. The first she'd seen in two years. Her heart raced as she took aim, not sure whether to be excited or terrified. The concrete projectile whizzed past the soldier's head, embedding itself in a nearby wall. 

Minji dropped into a crouch, years of training taking over as she sought cover behind an abandoned car. Her heart pounded as she analyzed the attack - not a bullet, something else. Concrete? The trajectory led her eyes up to a window on the fifteenth floor. 

"Hey!" Siyeon shouted, louder than necessary. "Are you human?" 

"Are you insane?" Minji muttered, immediately noting the shuffling movements in her peripheral vision. The infected were drawn to noise, and this girl had just shouted loud enough to wake half the district. She pulled out her tactical flashlight, signaling her status as a human survivor. 

Siyeon laughed, suddenly giddy with the prospect of actual human interaction. "Oops, sorry about that! Don't worry, I'll help you up!" She glanced around at the growing number of infected drawing near, attracted by her shout. "You might want to hurry though!" 

"Shit," Minji cursed under her breath as more infected emerged from the shadows. The girl was going to get them both killed. She counted at least twelve approaching, with more surely on the way. Her hand moved to the grenades on her belt - a last resort, given the noise would only attract more. 

Siyeon unfurled the ladder she'd fashioned from stolen construction equipment, letting it drop fifteen stories to where the soldier waited. She watched as the woman hesitated, noting how she moved with practiced grace even under pressure. The infected were closing in, but something about the soldier's movements suggested she'd faced worse odds before. 

"Damn it," Minji muttered, unclipping a grenade. The girl better be worth saving, because this was about to get messy. She sprinted for the ladder, her boots pounding against the cracked pavement. Behind her, the infected broke into their unsettling lurching run. She pulled the pin with her teeth, threw the grenade behind her, and leaped for the ladder. The explosion rocked the air as she climbed, the heat of it singing her back. 

Fifteen floors had never felt so long. 

Their hands met at the window, Siyeon pulling while Minji climbed. For a moment, they stood face to face, both breathing hard from the excitement. Time seemed to slow as they took each other in - the soldier with her sharp eyes and battle-worn gear, the survivor with grease-smudged cheeks and bright, wondering expression. 

Training took over, and Minji's combat knife pressed against Siyeon's throat, firm enough to mean business but careful not to break skin. She studied those bright eyes for signs of infection - the telltale cloudiness, the broken blood vessels that marked the early stages. 

But Siyeon didn't react with fear or aggression. Instead, she just... stared, her lips parting in what looked like awe. 

"Beautiful," Siyeon breathed, the word barely a whisper against the knife at her throat. 

Something in Minji's chest tightened. Two years of military discipline warred with the unexpected warmth of that simple word. When was the last time anyone had looked at her with anything but fear or respect? 

"Are you infected?" Minji managed to ask, her voice steadier than she felt. 

Siyeon's response was to smile - a genuine, almost childlike expression that seemed impossible in this broken world. "Want some spam?" 

Minji blinked, thrown off balance by the non sequitur. The knife lowered slightly as she took in the room around them - the ingenious makeshift weapons, the bicycle generator still humming away, the teddy bear watching from its perch. This strange girl had built herself a life here, alone in the apocalypse, and her first instinct upon meeting another human was to offer them food. 

Maybe, Minji thought, there was still hope for Seoul after all. 

-- 

"I can't believe you're real!" Siyeon exclaimed, bouncing on her toes. Before Minji could react, Siyeon grabbed her wrist. "Come on, I'll show you everything!" 

"Wait-" Minji started, but found herself being pulled through the apartment like a leaf caught in a whirlwind. 

"This is my workshop!" Siyeon gestured proudly to the chaos of salvaged parts and half-finished inventions. "I made everything myself. That launcher that almost hit you? Took me three weeks to get the trajectory right. Sorry about that, by the way. Oh! And this-" she patted the bicycle generator, "powers everything. I ride it for two hours every morning. Great exercise!" 

Minji found herself studying the makeshift weapons with growing admiration. The engineering was crude but innovative - exactly the kind of thinking that kept people alive when civilization fell. 

"And this is the kitchen!" Siyeon continued, dragging them into a space that seemed to be more storage than cooking area. "It's mostly canned stuff now. I had some fresh vegetables last summer, but the balcony garden didn't do so well in winter. Except the bean sprouts! They're fighters." 

Her enthusiasm was infectious, even as she led them into a bedroom that made Minji's nose wrinkle. The unmistakable mustiness of sheets that hadn't seen soap in two years hung heavy in the air. 

"Yeah, sorry about the smell," Siyeon said sheepishly. "Water's precious, you know? But look-" She scooped up a worn teddy bear from its perch. "This is WekWek! He's been keeping me company. WekWek, say hi to the pretty soldier lady!" 

Minji couldn't help but smile as Siyeon waggled the bear's paw at her. There was something both heartbreaking and heartwarming about this girl who'd maintained such... humanity in isolation. 

A growl from below drew Minji to the window. The courtyard was now packed with infected, drawn by the earlier commotion. They'd be trapped here for hours, at least until the horde dispersed or found more interesting prey. 

"We should talk," Minji said, turning back to find Siyeon still clutching WekWek. "I'm Lieutenant Kim Minji, Joint Special Operations Command. I'm here because we're planning to retake Seoul." 

Siyeon's eyes widened. "Retake it? But... why? It's fine how it is." 

"Fine?" Minji gestured at the window. "You're surrounded by infected. Living off canned food. Alone." 

"I'm not alone," Siyeon protested, hugging WekWek closer. "I have my inventions. My music. And now you're here!" 

"I'm here to help you evacuate," Minji said gently. "There's a safe zone in Busan. Real food. Other people. Proper medical care." 

Siyeon's smile faltered for the first time. "But... this is my home. I've survived here for two years. My sister..." she trailed off, something dark flickering across her features. "My sister told me to stay put. That she'd come back for me." 

Minji's chest tightened. How many similar promises had been broken when the infection spread? She'd made one herself, to her brother. Stay here. I'll get help. But help never came. 

"Your sister would want you to be safe," Minji said softly. "And you can't stay here forever. The canned food will run out. The building could become unstable. Winter's coming." 

Siyeon sank onto her bed, suddenly looking very young. "I don't... I don't know how to be around people anymore. What if I'm weird? What if they think I'm crazy for talking to WekWek?" 

"I don't think you're crazy," Minji found herself saying. "I think you're brilliant. Those weapons you made? The military would kill for that kind of innovation. And the way you've survived here, alone? That takes incredible strength." 

Siyeon looked up, hope flickering in her eyes. "You really think so?" 

"I know so." Minji sat beside her, the musty mattress creaking under their combined weight. "And I promise you won't be alone. I'll help you adjust. Whatever happens, we'll face it together." 

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the distant groaning of the infected below and the soft hum of the bicycle generator. 

"Can..." Siyeon hesitated. "Can WekWek come too?" 

Minji smiled. "Of course. We'll leave at dawn, when the horde's thinner. Pack whatever you need - whatever's important to you." 

Siyeon jumped up, energy returning as she began rummaging through cupboards. She emerged with a tattered backpack, worn but sturdy. "I've been saving this," she said, more quietly than before. "Just in case my sister..." She shook her head. "I guess it's time to use it." 

As Minji watched Siyeon begin to pack - carefully selecting tools and small inventions, tucking WekWek safely inside - she felt something shift in her chest. 

-- 

The shopping mall's glass ceiling cast dappled shadows across the marble floor, nature's slow invasion evident in the vines that had cracked through the pristine surface. Bora dove behind an overturned kiosk as gunfire echoed through the atrium, her breath coming in controlled bursts. 

"I'm sorry!" Yoohyeon's voice cracked from behind a nearby pillar. "I'm so sorry, Captain!" 

"Save your breath for running!" Bora snapped, ejecting her empty magazine with practiced efficiency. The horde of infected pouring through the mall entrance seemed endless, drawn by the car alarm still blaring in the parking lot. One simple mistake - Yoohyeon's rifle catching the side mirror of an abandoned vehicle - and now they were fighting for their lives. 

Bora peaked around the kiosk, assessing. At least thirty infected, maybe more shuffling in from the parking lot. Limited ammunition. Two exits, both potentially compromised. And one rookie soldier whose hands were shaking so badly she could barely reload. 

"Yoohyeon!" Bora's voice cut through the chaos. "Get your shit together! Remember your training! Breathe! And count your shots!" 

The private nodded, tears streaking through the dust on her face. But her next shots landed true - one, two, three infected dropping with precise headshots. The girl was a natural marksman when she wasn't overthinking everything. 

"Service corridor!" Bora pointed to a door marked 'Staff Only.' "On my mark!" 

They'd done this drill countless times in training. Bora would provide covering fire while Yoohyeon sprinted to the next position, then Yoohyeon would cover Bora's advance. Simple. Clean. Except now the targets were real, and a single mistake meant death. 

"Three... two... one... MOVE!" 

Yoohyeon ran, her long legs carrying her across the open space in powerful strides. Bora's rifle barked a steady rhythm, dropping any infected that got too close. The private reached the door, kicked it open, and spun to provide coverage. 

"Clear!" Yoohyeon called, her voice steadier now. 

Bora didn't waste breath responding. She launched herself from cover, years of athletics training evident in her fluid movement. Yoohyeon's shots sang past her ears, precise and deadly. They slammed the service door shut behind them, the sound of infected fists hammering against metal following them down the corridor. 

Finally, in a back storage room that smelled of mold and forgotten inventory, they allowed themselves to catch their breath. Bora reached over and smacked Yoohyeon's helmet with more affection than force. 

"You could have gotten us killed, rookie." 

Yoohyeon flinched. "I know. I'm-" 

"But," Bora continued, a hint of a smile playing at her lips, "nice shooting back there. Good warm-up exercise, right?" 

"Warm... warm-up?" Yoohyeon stared at her captain in disbelief, then let out a shaky laugh. "You're crazy, Captain." 

"That's why they put me in charge." Bora pulled out their tactical map, making quick notations. "No survivors in the commercial district. Nothing but infected and one clumsy private who can't watch where she swings her rifle." 

Yoohyeon's smile faded. "Do you think Lieutenant Kim is okay? We should have stayed together..." 

"Minji?" Bora's confidence was absolute. "She's probably having a boring time in the residential sector. Probably complaining that we got all the action." Her voice softened slightly. "I've known her since we were kids. Trust me, she can handle herself." 

A fresh wave of groaning filtered through the door, reminding them that danger was still very present. Bora studied their position on the map. "Meeting point is two kilometers east, at Namsan Tower. We'll have to cut through the department store and maybe the old cinema." 

She looked at Yoohyeon, noting how the private's hands had stopped shaking. Despite her mistakes, the girl had potential. Raw talent that just needed tempering with experience. 

"You ready for round two?" 

Yoohyeon checked her ammunition, then nodded. Some of her earlier timidity had been replaced with determination. "Yes, Captain." 

"Stay close," Bora ordered, releasing the safety on her rifle. "And Yoohyeon?" 

"Yes?" 

"Try not to hit any more cars." 

The private's cheeks flushed red, but she managed a small smile. "Yes, Captain." 

Bora pressed her ear to the door, listening to the shuffling outside. The infected were still there, but their movements suggested they were losing interest, becoming more scattered. This was their chance. 

"On my mark," she whispered, feeling Yoohyeon move into position behind her. "Three... two... one..." 

The door burst open, and once again the sound of gunfire echoed through the abandoned mall. But this time, Bora noted with satisfaction, her rookie was moving with more confidence.  

Sometimes the best training came from surviving your mistakes. 

-- 

The first hints of dawn painted Seoul's skyline in shades of gray, but inside the stairwell, darkness reigned absolute. Siyeon lingered in her apartment doorway for a moment, WekWek's worn ear poking out of her backpack. Fifteen years of memories, two years of survival, all distilled into one bag and a final goodbye. 

"Ready?" Minji's voice was barely a whisper. 

Siyeon nodded, then remembered Minji couldn't see her in the dark. "Yes." 

"Listen carefully," Minji said, adjusting her night vision goggles. "Keep one hand on my belt at all times. Don't let go, no matter what. The stairwell's compromised - structural damage, possible infected, definitely bodies. We move slow and quiet. Understand?" 

"Got it." Siyeon's fingers found Minji's tactical belt, gripping the sturdy material. Despite the gravity of their situation, she couldn't help but notice how solid and real Minji felt - so different from two years of talking to WekWek. 

They began their descent. Through her goggles, Minji saw the stairwell in shades of green - and red, where rust-colored stains marked old violence. Bodies lay crumpled in corners, some little more than skeletons, others preserved by the building's climate in grotesque tableaux of their final moments. She felt Siyeon's grip tighten on her belt but was impressed by the girl's steady breathing. No panic, no hesitation. 

Twelve floors down. Eleven. Ten. Each step had to be carefully placed to avoid loose concrete and debris. Minji's rifle swept back and forth, covering their angles of approach. The silence was absolute except for their soft footfalls and the occasional distant groan of the building settling. 

At the fourth-floor landing, it happened. Siyeon's foot connected with what looked like just another corpse. But this one moved. 

The infected lurched up with impossible speed, jaw snapping. Minji's rifle was already swinging around, but Siyeon was faster. In one fluid motion, she released Minji's belt and drove a blade into the zombie's temple - a crude but effective weapon that Minji recognized from the girl's workshop. 

"Nice move," Minji whispered, genuinely impressed. This wasn't the same girl who'd been excitedly showing off her teddy bear yesterday. This was a survivor. 

Siyeon's hand found Minji's belt again. "I've had practice." 

They encountered no more surprises as they completed their descent. At the ground floor, Minji held up her fist - wait. Through the building's broken front doors, she could see infected wandering in the pre-dawn gloom. Their path to the jeep would take them through tall grass - good cover, but dangerous if they stumbled into a lurker. 

"Stay close," Minji breathed. "Move when I move. Stop when I stop." 

They slipped into the grass like ghosts. Minji led them in a winding path, avoiding the shapes she could see shambling through the darkness. Siyeon followed her cues perfectly, as if they'd trained together for years instead of meeting just yesterday. The girl was full of surprises. 

The apartment complex gradually receded behind them, its looming shape growing smaller against the lightening sky. Under a concrete bridge, partially hidden by debris and overgrowth, Minji's military jeep waited exactly as she'd left it. 

Siyeon let out a low whistle of appreciation, then immediately clapped a hand over her mouth. But Minji found herself fighting back a smile. The girl's enthusiasm was... endearing. 

"Buckle up," Minji said as they climbed in. "Once this engine starts, we'll have every infected in the district on our tail." 

She expected fear, or at least concern. Instead, Siyeon's eyes lit up with that same manic gleam she'd had when showing off her inventions. "Sounds like fun!" 

Minji shook her head, but couldn't quite hide her smile this time. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was just Siyeon's infectious optimism, but she was starting to see why the girl had survived alone for so long. 

"You're crazy," Minji said, but there was warmth in her voice she hadn't intended. 

Siyeon just grinned, clutching her backpack - and WekWek - to her chest as Minji turned the key. The engine roared to life, shattering the pre-dawn quiet. In the distance, infected heads turned toward the sound. 

"Hold on," Minji said, throwing the jeep into gear. As they accelerated out from under the bridge, she caught a glimpse of Siyeon's face - pure joy, as if this was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. And despite herself, despite her training and her discipline and everything the last two years had taught her about staying detached, Minji felt something in her chest warm at the sight. 

Maybe this mission wouldn't be so routine after all. 

-- 

The observation deck of Namsan Tower offered a perfect view of Seoul's ruins. Behind hastily erected military barriers and sandbags, Captain Bora watched the city's dead streets through high-powered binoculars. Somewhere out there, her lieutenant was still running the mission. 

A clatter of metal followed by a muffled curse drew her attention back inside. 

"Sorry!" Yoohyeon was on her knees, trying to clean up the contents of a spilled military ration kit. "The heating element just... sort of... exploded?" 

Bora pinched the bridge of her nose. "How did you survive basic training?" 

"I'm good at shooting things?" Yoohyeon offered weakly, attempting to scrape reconstituted beef stew off the floor. 

"Leave it." Bora grabbed a fresh ration kit from their supplies. "Watch and learn, rookie." 

She demonstrated with practiced efficiency: how to properly angle the chemical heater, how long to wait for the reaction, the precise way to tear the packaging. Yoohyeon leaned in close, her long hair falling forward as she studied each movement. 

"The exothermic reaction is fascinating," Yoohyeon murmured, more to herself than Bora. "The oxidation of magnesium with water produces..." 

"Less science, more eating," Bora cut her off, but there was no real bite to her words. The private's academic background showed through at the oddest moments - analyzing bullet trajectories in the middle of firefights, calculating structural load limits while clearing buildings. It would have been annoying if it wasn't so oddly endearing. 

They ate in comfortable silence, the pre-dawn hours stretching long and quiet. Yoohyeon's eyes grew heavy, her posture slumping against the wall. 

"You should rest," Bora said, noting the dark circles under the private's eyes. "Can't have you making more mistakes because you're exhausted." 

She meant it practically, but saw the words hit home as Yoohyeon flinched slightly. The girl's shoulders tensed, and though she turned away quickly, Bora caught the telltale motion of a hand wiping at eyes. 

Bora sighed internally. She hadn't meant to twist the knife about the parking lot incident. The rookie took everything so personally, carried every mistake like a weight. It was what made her strive so hard to improve, but it was also what held her back sometimes - the fear of failure paralyzed her in crucial moments. 

Without comment, Bora grabbed a thermal blanket from their gear and tossed it over Yoohyeon's huddled form. The private startled slightly at the gesture. 

"Captain?" 

"Sleep," Bora ordered, but she gentled her tone. "You did good today, rookie. Despite... everything. Those headshots in the mall? Perfect form." 

Yoohyeon's eyes widened slightly at the rare praise. "Really?" 

"Would I say it if I didn't mean it?" Bora turned back to her watch position. "Now sleep. That's an order." 

She heard Yoohyeon settle under the blanket, her breathing gradually evening out. Only then did Bora allow herself a small smile. The girl was a handful - brilliant but clumsy, skilled but insecure. But there was potential there, raw talent that just needed the right guidance to shine. 

Bora moved quietly through the old military outpost, checking their supplies, confirming defensive positions, keeping her mind and hands busy. The radio at her hip remained silent - no word from Minji yet. She wasn't worried, not really. They'd been through worse together. But still, her eyes kept drifting to the city below, searching for any sign of movement. 

And it was then, a flash of light in the pre-dawn darkness caught Bora's attention.  

Through her binoculars, she could make out the distinctive pattern of military headlights weaving through Seoul's abandoned streets. Behind the jeep, a massive horde of infected followed like a deadly wave. 

"Yoohyeon!" Bora's sharp call jolted the private awake. "On your feet! Minji's incoming hot with company!" 

Yoohyeon scrambled up, instantly alert, hands finding her rifle with practiced ease. No trace of her earlier exhaustion showed as she moved to her position, scope already tracking the approaching vehicle. 

"I count at least fifty infected," Yoohyeon reported, her voice steady. "Maybe more emerging from the side streets." 

"We need to get that gate open." Bora was already moving. "Cover me from here. No mistakes this time, Private." 

"Yes, Captain!" 

The sound of precise shots rang out above as Bora sprinted down the tower's access road. Each crack of Yoohyeon's rifle was followed by the distinct sound of an infected dropping. The girl might be a mess with ration packs, but with a rifle in her hands, she was an artist. 

In the approaching jeep, Siyeon was having the time of her life. The vehicle bounced and swerved as Minji navigated the debris-strewn streets, the infected horde growing larger in the side mirrors. 

"This is amazing!" Siyeon shouted over the engine's roar. Her eyes fell on a mounted rifle near her seat. "Hey, let me help!" 

Minji spared her a quick glance, weighing options as she yanked the wheel hard to avoid a crashed bus. They were badly outnumbered, and Bora would need cover to get the gate open. 

"FIne, just be careful!" Minji finally called back. "And don't fall out!" 

Siyeon's face lit up with that manic grin that was becoming familiar. She grabbed the rifle, checked the magazine with surprising competence, and stuck her head out the window. The crack of her first shot was followed by an infected dropping mid-stride. 

"I got one!" she called out gleefully, already lining up her next shot. 

At the tower's gate, Bora reached the control panel. The old military hardware groaned to life, gears protesting as the heavy gates began their slow swing inward.  

Too slow. 

"Change of plans!" she shouted into her radio. "Yoohyeon, get down here! We need to close it manually once they're through!" 

"On my way!" 

Bora heard the private's boots on the access road behind her, followed by more precise shots. The jeep was close now, its engine straining as Minji pushed it to its limits. Two figures were visible - Minji at the wheel, and someone hanging out the passenger window taking shots at the horde. 

"Survivors?" Yoohyeon asked between shots. 

"Let's hope they're worth all this trouble," Bora grunted, bracing herself against the gate. "Ready to push?" 

The jeep roared through the gap with inches to spare. Bora and Yoohyeon threw their weight against the heavy metal, straining against rusted hinges. The infected were meters away, their grotesque faces visible in the jeep's receding headlights. 

"Push!" Bora commanded. 

With a final heave, the gates slammed shut. The automatic locks engaged just as the first infected slammed against the metal. Bora and Yoohyeon stumbled back, breathing hard, as dozens of infected hands clawed uselessly at the barrier. 

The jeep skidded to a stop at the checkpoint, steam rising from its overtaxed engine. Minji emerged first, weapon ready, scanning for threats. From the passenger side, a young woman with wild eyes and a delighted grin hopped out, still clutching her borrowed rifle. 

"That was fun!" she announced to no one in particular. "Can we do it again?" 

Bora and Yoohyeon exchanged looks of disbelief. 

Minji just shook her head, but Bora caught the hint of a smile on her old friend's face. "Everyone okay?" 

"All clear, no broken bones" Bora reported, then jerked a thumb at the gates where infected still clawed and growled. "Though you brought quite the welcome party." 

"Don't blame me," Minji said. "Siyeon here wanted to make a grand entrance for herself" 

The survivor - Siyeon - beamed at them all, apparently oblivious to or unconcerned by the near-death experience they'd just had. She bounced on her toes, looking around the military outpost with obvious curiosity. 

"Oh! Is that Namsan Tower? I haven't been here since middle school! Do you think the gift shop is still there? I should get WekWek a souvenir..." 

Bora turned to Minji with a raised eyebrow. "Well, you found an interesting one." 

"You have no idea," Minji replied, but her voice held an undercurrent of warmth that made Bora look at her sharply.  

She knew that tone. It meant trouble. 

Behind them, Yoohyeon was already getting drawn into conversation with Siyeon, who was enthusiastically describing some kind of homemade weapon system involving bicycle parts and concrete. 

As the sun finally crested the horizon, painting Seoul's broken skyline in shades of gold, Bora had the distinct feeling that their mission had just become a lot more complicated. 

Chapter Text

Dawn painted Seoul's skyline in shades of amber and gold, but inside Namsan Tower's military outpost, the atmosphere was tense. Minji traced their route on a worn tactical map while Bora paced behind her, boots clicking against concrete in a sharp rhythm that betrayed her agitation.  

"The highway's practically a death trap," Bora argued, gesturing at the marked route. "Four hours of exposed driving through infected territory? We might as well ring a dinner bell."  

Minji's finger followed the bold line she'd drawn from Seoul to Busan. "It's the fastest way. We have enough ammunition, the jeep's reinforced, and we've done worse runs before."  

"Which is exactly why we should know better now." Bora stopped pacing, fixing her old friend with a searching look. "HQ could have a helicopter here in two hours. Clean extraction, minimal risk. Since when do you choose the reckless option?"  

Minji straightened, meeting Bora's gaze with the steady authority she'd earned as lieutenant. "The survivor needs immediate medical attention."  

Bora's eyebrows rose slightly. "The survivor who was just doing cartwheels down the hallway?" She glanced toward the door where Yoohyeon was supposedly keeping watch over their new charge. "The same survivor you've barely let out of your sight since you found her?"  

Minji sighed, "What are you implying, Captain?"  

"Nothing, Lieutenant."   

But Bora's tone suggested otherwise.  

In their fifteen years of friendship, she'd never seen Minji push so hard for a survivor's welfare. Usually, Minji maintained professional distance, followed protocols, waited for proper extraction. This... this was different.  

Before Minji could respond, a peal of laughter echoed down the corridor – Siyeon's distinctive giggle followed by what sounded like Yoohyeon's softer chuckle.  

"Fine," Bora conceded, though her expression remained skeptical. "But we do this smart. Full vehicle check before we leave, extra fuel cans, and we rotate drivers every hour to stay sharp."  

Three floors up, in what used to be Namsan Tower's gift shop, Siyeon was ecstatic.   

"Look at this!" She held up a slightly dusty snow globe, giving it a gentle shake. Glitter swirled around a miniature version of the tower. "WekWek could use some decoration in his corner of the backpack, don't you think?"  

Yoohyeon watched from her position by the door, rifle held loose but ready. She'd been assigned to guard duty, but found herself increasingly drawn into conversation with their unusual survivor.   

There was something magnetic about Siyeon's enthusiasm, the way she found joy in the smallest things.  

"WekWek's the bear, right?" Yoohyeon asked, though she already knew. She'd seen the worn teddy bear's ear poking out of Siyeon's backpack earlier.  

"Mm-hmm!" Siyeon set down the snow globe and picked up a ceramic figurine. "He's been with me since... well, since everything happened. Sounds silly, right? A grown person talking to a stuffed animal?"  

There was a hint of vulnerability in the question that made Yoohyeon's chest tighten.   

"It’s not silly," she said firmly. "We all find ways to cope. I used to read physics textbooks out loud to myself when I couldn't sleep after... after my brother..."  

She trailed off, surprised at herself for sharing something so personal. But Siyeon just nodded, understanding in her eyes.  

"My sister," Siyeon said softly, setting down the figurine with careful precision. "She was supposed to come back for me. Said she was just going to get help, to find a way out of the city." Her fingers traced patterns in the dust on the shop's counter. "I guess a lot of people made promises they couldn't keep that day."  

Yoohyeon moved closer, protocol momentarily forgotten. "How did you survive? All alone for two years?"  

"Oh, I wasn't alone!" Siyeon's mood shifted like quicksilver, her smile returning. "I had my inventions, and music, and WekWek of course. And I learned so many things! Did you know you can make a pretty effective projectile launcher using just bicycle parts and concrete? The trajectory calculations are fascinating – I had to account for wind resistance and..."  

She continued explaining the physics behind her homemade weapons, hands moving animatedly. Yoohyeon found herself drawn in not just by the technical details, but by Siyeon's pure enthusiasm for the science behind survival.  

"That's actually brilliant," Yoohyeon said when Siyeon paused for breath. "The way you calculated the spring tension to compensate for the irregular shape of the concrete ammunition? I never would have thought of that."  

Siyeon beamed at the praise. "Thanks!”  

"The applied physics alone is fascinating! Though I wonder if you could improve the accuracy by..." Yoohyeon caught herself starting to ramble and felt her cheeks warm. "Sorry, I get carried away sometimes."  

"No, tell me!" Siyeon grabbed her arm, eyes bright with interest. "I never got to discuss my inventions with anyone before. Well, except WekWek, but his feedback was pretty limited."  

Yoohyeon laughed, then quickly covered her mouth, remembering they were supposed to stay quiet. But Siyeon's enthusiasm was infectious. Here was someone else who understood the joy of problem-solving, of creating something new from broken pieces.  

"Oh!" Siyeon suddenly darted to a shelf, reaching for something in the back. "This is perfect!" She pulled out a small plush dog wearing a Namsan Tower t-shirt. "WekWek needs a friend for the journey, don't you think?"  

The toy was dusty but otherwise intact, its sewn-on smile somehow appropriate for the moment. Yoohyeon couldn't help but smile back.  

"It's cute," she agreed. "Though maybe we should check with the Captain before taking anything..."  

"Better to ask forgiveness than permission!" Siyeon declared, already tucking the plush dog into her backpack alongside WekWek. "There, now he won't be lonely while we drive to... where are we going exactly?"  

"Busan," Yoohyeon answered. "We have a secure base there. Medical facilities, proper food, other survivors..."  

"Other survivors," Siyeon echoed, her enthusiasm dimming slightly. "I'm not... I'm not very good with people anymore. What if they think I'm strange?"  

Yoohyeon considered her response carefully. "I think you're brave," she said finally. "And smart. And interesting. And anyone who can't see that isn't worth worrying about."  

Siyeon looked at her with surprise, then genuine warmth. "Aww, that’s really sweet of you, Yoohyeon”  

Before Yoohyeon could respond, Bora's voice echoed up the stairwell. "Movement in thirty! Yoohyeon, get our guest ready to roll!"  

"Yes, Captain!" Yoohyeon called back, automatically straightening her posture even though Bora couldn't see her.  

--  

The wee hours of morning swept across Seoul's broken skyline as the small team prepared for their journey. The military outpost at Namsan Tower buzzed with quiet efficiency – Yoohyeon loading supplies into the jeep with practiced movements, Bora's voice low as she communicated with HQ over crackling radio waves, and Minji methodically checking their arsenal.  

Siyeon followed Minji like a shadow, watching the lieutenant's hands move over weapons with careful precision. The usual stream of chatter that seemed to flow naturally from her had dried up, replaced by an intense focus that reminded Minji of how this strange girl had survived alone for so long.  

"Everything okay?" Minji asked finally, glancing up from a magazine count to find Siyeon still studying her movements.  

"You're really cool," Siyeon said without preamble, her directness catching Minji off guard. "The way you handle everything, like you know exactly what you're doing. It's... impressive."  

The simple honesty in her voice made Minij’s chest flutter.  

“Thanks,” The lieutenant quickly said in response as she busied herself with the weapons check, grateful that the dim morning light hid the warmth she could feel in her cheeks.  

"Listen, Siyeon" Minji said, keeping her voice steady, "the journey ahead won't be easy. I know you did prove yourself earlier, but we can't let you handle weapons yet – it’s protocol, I hope you understand. It's going to be dangerous."  

She expected protest, maybe disappointment, but Siyeon just nodded.   

"I'll be good! I can sit still and... oh! I could sing! I know lots of songs. Two years of practice!" Her face lit up with the idea. "Though maybe not the really loud ones. Those tend to attract zombies, I learned that the hard way."  

Despite herself, Minji smiled. "Songs are permitted. We could use the entertainment."  

"Hey, message from HQ has confirmed," Bora called out, approaching with her radio gear packed away. "They're expecting us by late afternoon. Assuming we survive this crazy plan of yours."  

"Your confidence is inspiring, Captain," Minji replied dryly.  

"Just being realistic, Lieutenant." But there was a hint of humor in Bora's voice as she climbed into the driver's seat. "Everyone loaded up?"  

Yoohyeon secured the last supply crate and gave a thumbs up. "All set, Captain!"  

The jeep's engine rumbled to life, echoing off the tower's walls. Siyeon scrambled into the backseat, practically vibrating with excitement as she clutched her backpack – and presumably WekWek – to her chest. Yoohyeon took the seat beside her, rifle held ready across her lap despite her obvious exhaustion.  

They rolled out as the sun breached the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of pink and gold. The gate mechanism groaned as they passed through, Bora and Minji working together one last time to secure it behind them. The infected that had gathered during the night had wandered off, leaving the area around Namsan Tower mercifully clear.  

The first rays of sunlight spilled across Seoul's empty streets, creating an almost peaceful scene. Nature had begun reclaiming the city – vines crawling up buildings, small trees pushing through cracked pavement. In the early morning quiet, it was almost possible to forget the horror that had transformed this place.  

"It's so pretty," Siyeon murmured, her face pressed against the window. "I never really saw it from out here, you know? Just from my apartment." Her voice grew softer. "Fifteen floors up, everything looked so small and..." She rambled on in between her yawns.   

The words trailed off into silence.   

Minji glanced back to find Siyeon's head drooping, exhaustion finally catching up with her. A few moments later, she slumped sideways onto Yoohyeon's shoulder.  

Yoohyeon tensed briefly, then relaxed, a soft smile playing at her lips even as her eyes remained alert, scanning their surroundings. But Minji could see the fatigue in the private's posture, the slight tremor in her hands from hours of sustained tension.  

"Get some rest," Minji said quietly. "The road should be clear until we hit the highway junction. That's when we'll need you sharp."  

"But Lieutenant-"  

"That's an order, Private. You're no good to us exhausted."  

Yoohyeon's relief was visible. "Thank you, Lieutenant." She allowed herself to relax slightly, though her grip on her rifle remained firm. Within minutes, her breathing had evened out, her head tilting to rest gently against Siyeon's.  

In the front seat, Bora's eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, but her voice was soft when she spoke. "They look almost peaceful. Hard to believe we were all fighting for our lives a few hours ago."  

Minji hummed in agreement, watching Seoul's broken landscape roll past. The sun climbed higher, casting long shadows through the city's empty streets. Somewhere ahead lay Busan, safety, civilization. But between here and there stretched miles of uncertain territory, and the day was just beginning.  

"Long drive ahead," Bora commented, her hands steady on the wheel.  

"Long drive indeed." Minji agreed, settling into her seat as the ruins of Seoul receded behind them.   

In the backseat, Siyeon made a small sound in her sleep and burrowed closer to Yoohyeon's shoulder. Despite everything – the danger ahead, the uncertainty of their mission, the weight of command – Minji felt a smile tugging at her lips.  

The jeep pressed on toward the highway, carrying its precious cargo of soldiers and sole survivor toward whatever waited ahead. The morning sun climbed higher, promising another hot day in the ruins of their world. But for now, in this moment of relative peace, they drove on in comfortable silence, two old friends and their sleeping charges, heading home.  

--  

As Siyeon drifted into dreamland, she was dragged back to that spring afternoon from two years ago.   

She'd been dozing in mathematics class, head pillowed on her arms as the teacher's voice droned on about derivatives. The sunshine through the classroom windows had been so warm, and she'd been up late the night before watching song covers on YouTube. Gentle wind seeped through the tiny holes of the windows, and it was almost time for lunch. They were going to serve her favourite tteokbokki today – something she was looking forward the whole day.   

It was just another normal day at school.  

Until the scream.  

At first, it was just one voice – high and terrified, cutting through her drowsy haze. Then came the fire alarm, its shrill wail jolting her fully awake.   

Siyeon lifted her head, blinking away sleep as chaos erupted around her.  

"Siyeon!" Wheein's hand gripped her arm, her desk mate's eyes wide with fear. "Look!"  

Through the third-floor window, Siyeon could see the school's athletic field below. Students were running, their uniform skirts and blazers fluttering as they fled from... something. Figures lurched after them with jerking movements, too fast, too wrong. As she watched, one caught a boy from the soccer team, pulling him down with terrible strength.  

"We need to go." Wheein's voice cracked, but her grip remained firm. "Now!"  

The hallway was already packed with students, a tide of panic pushing everyone toward the main stairwell. Screams echoed from below, and the crowd surged backward, nearly knocking Siyeon off her feet.   

Only Wheein's steady hand kept her upright.  

"This way!" Wheein pulled her in the opposite direction, toward the empty art wing. Other students from their class followed, their footsteps thundering on the linoleum floors.  

They burst into the art room, slamming the door behind them. Through the windows, they could see more infected appearing in the courtyard below, spreading like a virus through the school grounds.  

"We can climb down!"   

Someone was already opening the windows. Students began forming a human chain, creating a living ladder down the side of the building. The art room's location above the garden beds meant they only had to span two floors instead of three.  

"You go first!" Wheein pushed Siyeon toward the window. “I’ll make sure everyone else gets out safe!”   

Siyeon gripped the windowsill, heart pounding as she looked down at the chain of students. Hands reached up to guide her feet, everyone working together with desperate cooperation.  

The scream came just as she'd stretched her leg down to the first handhold. A terrible sound of splintering wood, and then – there it was. One of the infected, bursting through the doorway they'd thought was secure.  

"Wheein!" Siyeon's voice broke as she watched her friend spin toward the threat. "Get down here now!”   

But Wheein didn't move toward the window. Instead, she planted her feet, bracing herself against the frame as the infected lurched forward.  

"Go!" Wheein's voice was steel, even as tears streaked down her face. "I'll hold it!"  

"No!" Siyeon tried to pull herself back up, but other hands were tugging her down, away from her friend.   

She saw it happen in horrible clarity – Wheein's body jerking as teeth found her shoulder, she screamed in pain but her hands never leaving the window frame, holding the infected back so the others could escape.  

"We have to go!"   

Hyejin's tear-stained face appeared beside her, pulling Siyeon toward safety even as she screamed for her friend. "She's giving us a chance – we have to go!"  

The memory shattered as Siyeon jerked awake, her heart racing.   

She was shoved back into her reality. Her present.   

The jeep had stopped moving, and she was alone in the backseat. Her cheeks were wet, and she quickly wiped at them, clutching WekWek closer to her chest.  

Outside, she could see Minji and Bora crouched by the front tire, their movements efficient as they worked to change it. Yoohyeon paced the perimeter, rifle ready as she scanned their surroundings.  

The highway stretched before and behind them, eerily still in the morning light. Abandoned cars lined the shoulders, their windows dark and empty. Mountain slopes rose on either side, creating a natural corridor that suddenly felt more like a trap.  

Siyeon carefully opened the door, trying to shake off the lingering ghosts of her dream. "What's wrong?"  

"Just a flat tire," Minji answered without looking up, but her voice was gentle, as if she could hear the tremor in Siyeon's question. "We'll be moving again in a few minutes."  

The words had barely left her lips when it came – a sound that made Siyeon's blood run cold.   

A scream echoed off the mountain walls, unlike anything she'd heard before. Not the mindless groaning of the infected she knew, but something else.   

Something worse.  

Bora's rifle was up in an instant, the tire iron forgotten. Yoohyeon's face had gone pale, her eyes meeting her captain's with naked fear.  

"What..." Siyeon's voice was barely a whisper. "What was that?"  

Minji's answer was simple, but the tension in her voice said everything.  

"That's... the sound of danger."  

“What...?” Siyeon squinted her eyes, as there was a flicker of movement in the distance. Then, a flint of metal  flashed in the morning sun, followed by a low, guttural roar that vibrated through the ground.   

Then, a car was hurled skyward, spinning end-over-end like a child's toy before crashing back to earth in a shower of shattered glass and twisted metal.  

"Oh fuc-" Bora began, but the words died in her throat. Another car followed, then another, each tossed aside with terrifying ease. The source of the destruction was still obscured by the distance, but its power was undeniable.  

Minji didn't hesitate. "Move! Now!" She barked, grabbing Siyeon's arm.  

They didn't need to be told twice. The jeep was abandoned, its flat tire forgotten. The four of them scrambled up the rocky slope beside the highway, their boots slipping on loose gravel. The roars grew closer, the ground trembling with each heavy footfall.  

The mountainside was densely forested, a tangled mess of trees and undergrowth. It offered cover, but also made navigation difficult. Minji stopped, panting, and looked at Bora. "We need to split up. Too risky to stay together in this terrain."  

Bora nodded grimly. "Yoohyeon and I will take the western ridge. You and Siyeon head east."  

"Regroup at Point 117," Minji confirmed, naming a location that Siyeon wouldn't recognize—a designated rendezvous point known only to military personnel. "And be careful," she added, her gaze lingering on Siyeon for a moment before turning back to Bora.  

"Always am," Bora replied, a wry smile touching her lips. She clapped Yoohyeon on the shoulder. "Let's go, rookie."  

And just like that, they were gone.   

Minji pulled Siyeon deeper into the trees, the sounds of destruction echoing behind them, urging them onward. The forest closed in around them, the sunlight filtering through the leaves in dappled patterns. The air was thick with the smell of pine and damp earth, a stark contrast to the burning rubber and shattered glass of the highway they'd left behind.  

"What the hell was that?" Siyeon asked, her voice trembling slightly. 

Minji didn't answer immediately. She scanned their surroundings, her senses on high alert. "Something we cannot fight alone," she finally said, her voice low. “Stay close to me.”  

“Got it.”   

The forest pressed in on them, a labyrinth of tangled branches and whispering leaves. The roars of the unseen creature echoed through the trees, a constant reminder of the danger they were fleeing. Minji moved with a practiced efficiency, her eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. Siyeon trailed behind her, trying to keep pace without snagging her clothes on the undergrowth.  

They hadn't gone far when they encountered their first infected.   

A pair of shambling figures emerged from the shadows, their moans low and guttural. Minji didn't break stride. She pulled a combat knife from her belt, the blade glinting in the dappled sunlight. With two swift, precise movements, she dispatched the infected, her movements economical and brutal. The bodies crumpled to the ground, and she moved on without a word, wiping the blade clean on her trousers.  

Siyeon watched the display with awe. "Wow, that was cool" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.  

Minji glanced at her. "It's what I was trained to do," she replied, her tone flat.  

They continued their climb, the terrain growing steeper and more treacherous. The trees thinned as they approached the higher elevations, revealing glimpses of the valley below. The highway was a distant ribbon of grey, littered with abandoned vehicles.   

The sight of the destruction sent a shiver down Siyeon's spine.  

"The military planned out this route in case of situations like these," Minji said, breaking the silence. "They mapped out the entire area, including safe houses and emergency bunkers that scattered around. There's one nearby. It should provide shelter until that...monstrosity is gone.”   

She pointed to a cluster of rocks further up the slope. "It's hidden behind those. Let's go."  

As they neared the rocks, Minji stumbled.   

Her foot caught on a root hidden beneath the leaves, and she twisted her ankle. She cried out “Ah!”, with a sharp intake of breath, and stumbled, but managed to stop herself from falling.  

"Minji!" Siyeon rushed to her side. "Are you alright?"  

Minji tried to put weight on her injured ankle, but winced in pain. "I'm fine," she said, her voice tight. "Just a sprain."  

Siyeon frowned. "That doesn't look 'fine'." She could see the swelling starting to appear around Minji's ankle.  

Minji waved her hand dismissively. "I told you, I'm fine. We just need to keep moving." But her face betrayed the pain she was in.  

Siyeon looked at the steep, uneven terrain ahead. "There's no way you can make it up there like that," she said. "Let me help you."  

Minji started to protest, “But-!” as Siyeon cut her off. "Come on," she said, turning her back to the lieutenant. "Get on."  

Minji hesitated for a moment, then, with a sigh of resignation, she carefully climbed onto Siyeon's back.  

"Tell me which way to go," Siyeon said, her legs already straining under Minji's weight.   

Minji, despite her discomfort, couldn't help a small smile. "The bunker is just over that ridge," she said, pointing. "And Siyeon?"  

"Yeah?"  

"Thank you."  

Siyeon grunted with the effort of carrying Minji uphill. "Don't mention it," she said. "Just try not to scream if I trip." She paused, then added with a wry grin, "Although, if you do scream, maybe the zombies will think we're having a party and leave us alone?"  

Minji chuckled, wincing slightly as her ankle jostled. "I don’t think that’s going to work Siyeon," she muttered.  

“Well, worth of a try.”   

“Don’t.”  

“I was joking.”   

--  

The bunker door clanged shut behind them, the heavy metal sealing them off from the dangers outside. The lights flickered, casting dancing shadows on the concrete walls, but remained functional. Siyeon carefully helped Minji off her back and onto a thin, worn-out mattress that was laid out on the concrete floor.  

"Alright, let's take a look at this," Siyeon said, immediately getting to work. She knelt down and started unlacing Minji's boots, then carefully rolled up her trouser leg.  

"The first aid kit should be in the cabinet over there, the top shelf." Minji said, pointing to a metal cabinet on the far side of the room.  

Siyeon beamed. "Perfect!" She hopped up and retrieved the kit, returning to Minji's side. "Now, let's see what we've got here."  

She grabbed WekWek and handed it to Minji, “Here, hug this. It might help with the pain.”   

Minji's eyes widened slightly. She seemed to understand what Siyeon was about to do. "You're not actually going to…" she began, but Siyeon just gave her a reassuring smile.  

"Trust me, I know what I’m doing" Siyeon said as she carefully examined Minji's ankle, noting the swelling and discoloration.  

She rummaged through the first-aid kit and pulled out a bandage and a small ice pack that was completely dried out. "Well, shit. Guess we’ll just have to make do with wrapping it then.”  

As Siyeon worked with the wrapping, she began to sing a pop song from the 2000’s. Minji watched her with soft eyes, successfully distracting her from the pain that was slowly subsiding.   

"All done," she said. "How does it feel?"  

Minji wiggled her toes cautiously. "Better," she admitted. "Thank you, Siyeon."  

Siyeon grinned. "You're welcome. Now, how about we find something to eat? I'm starving." She picked up WekWek and gave it a little pat. "Even WekWek is hungry. He’s done a great job today."  

“Yeah,” Minji chuckled, turning to the teddy bear, “Thank you WekWek.”   

“You’re welcome!” Siyeon said in a higher pitch, as if it was WekWek who was replying.   

The bunker, though small and dimly lit, felt a little warmer now.   

Maybe it was the shared laughter, or the comforting aroma of the surprisingly delicious meal Siyeon had conjured from cans of beans, spam, and whatever else she'd found in the bunker's meager pantry. Minji was genuinely impressed.  

"You know," she said, absently poking her last piece of spam, "For a long time, I thought no one was coming. I thought I was the only one left." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I almost gave up hope and thought my days were counting."  

She recounted her days alone, the silence of the city amplifying her despair. "I started looking through my sister's books since she studied engineering," she continued, a faint smile touching her lips. "She had so many of them and all sorts of little trinkets that I wasn’t allowed to touch. So, I just… started reading. Learning from scratch."  

Siyeon's gaze drifted to the small collection of tools and gadgets that was available in the bunker, ones that were very familiar to her. "And then there were her notebooks where she experimented making things that were practical," she said. "That's how I learned to make things. Weapons, the water filtration system and well, other stuff. In a way, my sister was with me all along."  

Minji listened intently, her eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and sadness. "It seems that you were very close with your sister.”  

Siyeon's smile faltered, a shadow passing over her face. "She was… my everything," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "More than a sister, really. She was like a friend, my idol."  

She explained the age gap between them, how her sister had practically raised her while their parents were busy with work. "She nagged me, took care of me, always knew what to say," Siyeon chuckled, a bittersweet sound. "She would have been 35 today," she added quietly.  

Minji reached across the small space separating them and gently took Siyeon's hand. "Your sister would’ve been so proud of you right now. You're strong, resourceful, and you're a survivor." She squeezed Siyeon's hand gently. "And you're not alone anymore," she added, her gaze meeting Siyeon's. "You have a new life ahead of you, Siyeon. With me, with us, the whole team and the new world."  

Siyeon's eyes glistened with unshed tears. She squeezed Minji's hand back, a silent acknowledgment of the comfort and support she was receiving. “Yeah.” She nodded, “You’re right.”   

Meanwhile, Bora and Yoohyeon’s bunker was a stark contrast to the quiet intimacy shared by Minji and Siyeon.  

Bora meticulously inspected her weapons, the click of each component echoing through the small space, while Yoohyeon rummaged through her pack, a frown creasing her brow.  

"I can't find it!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with panic. "My knife, it’s- it's gone!"  

Bora stopped her inspection and fixed Yoohyeon with a stern look. "You better not be joking with me right now, Yoohyeon," she demanded, her voice sharp. "Lose your knife?! How can you be so clumsy?!”  

Yoohyeon's shoulders slumped. "I… I think I dropped it when we were running from that... monstrous thing..." she mumbled, her cheeks flushing crimson. She sniffled, her eyes starting to well up. "I'm sorry, Captain. I.. I messed up again."  

Bora's expression softened slightly, but she quickly masked it with a stern frown. "A soldier doesn't cry over spilled milk. Shoulder it up." she said, her voice firm. "You made a mistake. So, learn from it and make sure it doesn’t happen again."  

Yoohyeon straightened her posture, blinking back her tears. "Yes, Captain," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.  

Bora sighed as she watched Yoohyeon struggle to compose herself. She knew she was being harsh, but she also knew that the girl needed to be stronger. She grabbed a pre-packaged army meal kit and shoved it towards Yoohyeon.   

"Go make your lunch," she said, her voice gruff. "And reflect on what you did."  

The air in the bunker grew thick with tension.   

Yoohyeon retreated to a corner, silently working on her meal kit, while Bora continued her inspection, though her focus was clearly elsewhere. She glanced at Yoohyeon periodically, noticing the younger soldier still wiping at her eyes as she fumbled with the packaging.  

Bora sighed as she went to pick up her own ration kit that was already ready for consumption.   

"Here." She thrusted it into the private's hands, snatching away the one Yoohyeon had been fumbling with. "You're shaking too much to handle the heater properly."  

"I can do it myself, Captain," Yoohyeon protested, but her voice lacked conviction.  

Bora ignored her, efficiently preparing the meal with sharp, practiced movements. Steam rose from the package as she activated the chemical heater, and she pressed the warm food back into Yoohyeon's hands. "Eat. Can't have my best shot getting sloppy because of low blood sugar."  

She turned away, muttering just loud enough to be heard: "Can't believe I got stuck with this rookie. All that talent with a rifle and she can't even heat up her own damn food." A pause, then softer: "Good thing she's worth the trouble."  

Yoohyeon ducked her head to hide her smile, but Bora caught it anyway. "Thank you, Captain," she whispered.  

"Hm? Did someone say something?" Bora made a show of looking around. "Must be hearing things. This place gets to you after a while."  

--  

A few hours later, the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the highway as two teams converged at their designated meeting point.   

The mouth of the highway tunnel gaped before them like an open wound in the mountainside, its entrance barely visible through years of accumulated debris and overgrowth.  

Bora spotted them first – Minji and Siyeon approaching from the eastern ridge, moving carefully between abandoned vehicles. Her sharp eyes immediately caught the way Minji favored her left side, the bandage visible on her ankle.  

"What happened?" Bora demanded as soon as they were within speaking distance.  

"Nothing serious," Minji dismissed.   

"Sure, because a sprained ankle is exactly what we need right now." Bora's sarcasm barely masked her concern as she did a quick visual assessment of the wound. "You do know that will-  

"Hinder our mission and slow our progress of possibly getting back home in one piece," Minji finished. "I am aware of the risks. You don’t need to remind me”.   

The implications of their situation settled heavily over the group. They'd been forced to split up earlier to scout possible routes, and now their primary transportation and most of their supplies were effectively lost to them.  

"So, we're stuck with this dead end?" Yoohyeon asked, her rifle scanning the shadowy tunnel entrance with nervous energy.  

"Not dead end," Minji corrected, pulling out their tactical map despite the way it made her wince. "There's a rail station two kilometers through this tunnel. If we can get power to the tracks..."  

"I could help with that!" Siyeon perked up, her earlier exhaustion forgotten in the face of a potential challenge. "My sister used to study engineering and I’ve gone through her books many times as part of my study. It shouldn’t be that different from the generators I used to maintain in my apartment."  

"Siyeon, the military will handle it," Bora cut in firmly. "You're our survivor, not our engineer. Let's not forget that."  

Siyeon deflated slightly, but her eyes remained fixed on the tunnel ahead with obvious curiosity. Yoohyeon shifted uncomfortably beside her, rifle still trained on the darkness.  

"That tunnel's going to be a problem," the private said quietly. "No natural light, probably infested with hundreds of infected. We'd be walking blind."  

"We've handled worse," Bora shrugged, but her posture was tense as she studied the entrance.  

"We'll make do," Minji agreed, checking her ammunition with her good arm. "We stay tight and move as a unit. Siyeon in the center, protected on all sides."  

They gathered for a quick briefing, voices low as they discussed formation and signals. Bora would take point, her experience with close-quarter combat making her the natural choice. Yoohyeon would cover their right flank, her marksmanship skills crucial even in limited light. Minji, despite her injury, would guard their left. Siyeon, clutching WekWek's worn form through her backpack, found herself at the heart of their protective triangle.  

"Remember," Minji's voice was steady despite the pallor creeping into her face. "Clean shots, minimal noise. We don't know what's waiting in there, but we've trained for this."  

"And Siyeon?" Bora fixed the survivor with a stern look. "Stay close. No wandering off anywhere, no matter how fascinating you find it."  

"Yes, Captain," Siyeon nodded, though her eyes still held that spark of curiosity that made Minji hide a smile despite their situation.  

Tactical lights clicked on, cutting thin beams through the gathering darkness. Ahead, the tunnel waited like a sleeping beast, its depths holding whatever horrors Seoul's infection had spawned in the darkness.  

They moved forward as one, a single unit forged by necessity and growing trust, into the unknown.  

Chapter Text

The tunnel swallowed them whole, plunging them into near-total darkness. Minji flicked on her tactical flashlight, the beam cutting through the gloom, illuminating the rough-hewn walls. The silence was broken only by the rhythmic crunch of their boots on the uneven ground… and a low, guttural moan echoing from the depths of the tunnel. 

They're here, Bora signed, her hand movements precise and economical. 

Minji nodded, her eyes scanning the shadows. She held up three fingers, then pointed forward— Three infected ahead.  

Yoohyeon, her night-vision goggles already engaged, mirrored Minji's movement, silently confirming the count. She raised her silenced rifle, her movements fluid and practiced. 

The moans grew louder, closer. Shuffling figures materialized from the darkness, their eyes glowing with a malevolent hunger in the green-tinged landscape of Yoohyeon's vision. 

Minji raised her pistol, firing short, controlled bursts.  

Each silenced shot was aimed, each shot found its mark. The infected stumbled and fell, their moans cut short. Bora, mirroring her movements, provided covering fire, her own pistol barking in sync with Minji's.  

Yoohyeon, a silent predator, picked off targets that Minji and Bora couldn't see in the limited flashlight beams. Her rifle cracked, the silenced shots barely audible, and infected heads snapped back, their bodies collapsing in silent heaps. 

Siyeon watched in awe, her earlier bravado replaced by a healthy dose of fear. She clung to the back of the group, her eyes wide as she witnessed the brutal efficiency of the team's combat skills. She was a spectator in a deadly ballet, a dance of death orchestrated with practiced ease and silent communication. 

The infected pressed closer, drawn by the faint sound of gunfire. They swarmed from the shadows, their numbers seemingly endless. Minji and Bora exchanged a look, then signed Fall back to the choke point! Bora pointed to a narrow section of the tunnel ahead. 

They sprinted, the infected hot on their heels. As they reached the choke point, Minji spun around, firing a volley of silenced shots that sent the leading infected stumbling back. Bora joined her, creating a wall of lead that temporarily halted the horde's advance. 

Yoohyeon, perched on a slightly elevated section of the tunnel wall, continued to pick off targets, her silenced rifle a deadly whisper in the chaos. 

The infected clawed and moaned, their desperation growing with each passing moment. But the team held their ground, their combined firepower a formidable defense. 

Clear! Minji signed, the word unnecessary in the silence, but the gesture clear. 

They moved forward again, pushing deeper into the tunnel. The infected continued to swarm, but the team's tactical coordination kept them at bay. They were a well-oiled machine, each member playing their part with deadly efficiency, communicating silently, moving as one. 

Soon, the tunnel opened into a vast, cavernous space where the train station stood. The tracks stretched into the distance, disappearing into the darkness. But the sight that greeted them made their blood run cold.  

The station was swarming with infected. Hundreds of them, moaning and shuffling, their numbers overwhelming. 

Bora held up a hand, halting the group.  

She pointed to the mass of infected, then held up three fingers, miming the explosion of a grenade. Distraction, she signed. Then, she pointed to herself, then to the opposite side of the station. I'll flank them.  

Minji and Yoohyeon exchanged a worried glance, but they knew Bora's plan was their best chance. They nodded, trusting their captain's judgment. 

Bora slipped away silently, melting into the shadows. Minji, Yoohyeon, and Siyeon watched her go, their hearts pounding in their chests. 

A few minutes of tense silence passed.  

Then, a blinding flash of light erupted from the opposite side of the station, followed by a deafening explosion. The sound echoed through the cavernous space, drawing the attention of every infected in the station. 

The horde surged towards the explosion, their moans growing into a cacophony of hunger. 

Now! Minji signed, her movements sharp and decisive. 

They sprinted forward, moving as one. Yoohyeon took the lead, night vision goggles now dangling over her neck as she cut through the smoke and confusion. She silently picked off any stragglers, clearing a path through the chaos. 

Minji and Siyeon followed close behind, Minji's pistol barking in short, controlled bursts. They moved quickly, efficiently, exploiting the distraction Bora had created. 

They reached the main gate of the station where a heavy metal barrier separated them from safety. Minji didn't bother with the lock. She raised her pistol and fired a single shot.  

The lock exploded, the gate swinging open. 

Minji shoved Siyeon through first. Yoohyeon followed, covering their retreat. 

Minji was the last one through. Just as she crossed the threshold, she saw Bora sprinting towards them, a horde of infected hot on her heels. 

"Close the gate!" Minji yelled, her voice breaking the silence. 

Yoohyeon slammed the gate shut, the heavy metal barrier slamming into place just barely as Bora’s feet passed through and the first infected crashed onwards, a second late.  

They were safe. 

They collapsed against the gate, breathless, their bodies shaking with adrenaline. They looked at each other, a mixture of relief and disbelief on their faces. 

Then, they started to laugh. A shaky, hysterical laugh that quickly turned into a full-blown celebration. They had made it.  

Against all odds, they had survived. 

-- 

The four of them leaned against the cool metal, catching their breath, their bodies still buzzing with adrenaline. 

Siyeon, however, quickly recovered from the immediate shock.  

Her eyes, wide with curiosity, darted around the vast expanse of the train station. The towering ceilings, the rows of silent, docked trains, the intricate network of tracks – it was a wonderland of forgotten technology. 

"Wow," she breathed, her voice filled with awe. "This is amazing!" 

Yoohyeon, still slightly breathless from the sprint, hurried to Siyeon's side, her hand instinctively resting on her rifle, "Don't just wander off like that," she cautioned, her gaze sweeping the area. "We're not safe yet." 

Siyeon grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I know, relax! I won’t wander far," she promised, though her tone suggested otherwise. She took a step towards a nearby train, her fingers itching to explore. 

Yoohyeon sighed, knowing that keeping Siyeon still was a lost cause. She resigned herself to shadowing the curious survivor, keeping a watchful eye on her. 

Meanwhile, Minji slid down the gate, her face contorting in pain. She gingerly touched her ankle, the swelling already visible. "Ugh," she groaned, the pain finally catching up with her. 

"Don't push yourself," Bora said gently, giving a pat on Minji’s back, "You've done enough running for one day. I'll take the lead from now on." 

Minji leaned back against the gate, closing her eyes for a moment. "Thanks, Bora," she murmured, a genuine smile touching her lips. "I appreciate it." 

"We'll get everyone home safe," she said, her voice firm. "And you, Lieutenant, owe me a bottle of beer for this." 

Minji chuckled, opening her eyes. "Deal," she said. "The best beer you've ever had. I promise." 

-- 

Siyeon moved past the slumped, decayed figures scattered around the station as if they were mere obstacles, her eyes wide with a childlike wonder. She eventually gravitated towards a door marked “Control Room”, and pushed it open with surprising ease.  

Inside, the room was a chaotic jumble of blinking lights, complex machinery, and silent consoles. Dust motes danced in the faint light filtering through the grimy windows, illuminating the intricate network of wires and buttons. 

Siyeon gasped, her eyes shining with awe. 

She buzzed from one console to another, her fingers twitching with curiosity. "Wow!" she whispered,  eager hands reaching out to touch a brightly colored button, but a hand stopped her. 

"Don't touch that," Yoohyeon said firmly, her voice sharp.  

Siyeon raised her hands in mock surrender, giggling. "Okay, okay," she said, her smile infectious. "But look at this!" She pointed to a large display screen covered in diagrams and schematics. "This must be the central control system! When I was reading through my sister’s engineering textbooks, there was this one chapter about train systems. It's all about hydraulics and—" 

Yoohyeon cut her off gently. "That's interesting, Siyeon," she said, "but maybe we should focus on staying safe. This place..." Her voice trailed off as she scanned the room, her gaze settling on the slumped figures scattered amongst the machinery. The decayed uniforms, the vacant stares – they painted a grim picture of the station's final moments. 

She tightened her grip on her rifle as a chill ran down her spine.  

The control room, a place of order and technology, was now a silent testament to the chaos and tragedy of the apocalypse. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were walking on hallowed ground, a place where lives had ended and the silence still screamed of fear and desperation. She kept her eyes peeled, acutely aware that danger could lurk anywhere, even in a room filled with the ghosts of the past. 

“So, this is where you guys went,” Bora cut in, as Minji followed behind.  

Siyeon beamed at the two, “It’s so cool!”  

"Siyeon, calm down," Bora said, her voice laced with amusement and a hint of exasperation. "At this rate, you're going to give yourself a heart attack." Then, she turned to Yoohyeon with a frown, "And you," she said, her voice slightly sharper. "You almost lost sight of her back there. You need to be more vigilant." 

Yoohyeon winced, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I'm sorry, Captain," she mumbled. "She's… very enthusiastic." 

As Bora lightly scolded the pair, Minji's gaze swept across the room, her mind already analyzing the situation. She noticed the scattered remains of the staff and walked over to a nearby desk, where a worn diary lay abandoned. She picked up the diary, its pages filled with scribbled notes and diagrams. As she flipped through it, a realization dawned on her. 

"Bora," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "Look at this." 

Bora, still lightly reprimanding Siyeon, turned her attention to Minji. She took the diary from Minji's hand, her eyes widening as she scanned the pages. 

"This is… a guide," she murmured, her voice filled with surprise. "A guide on how to start up a train, using the emergency generator." 

Minji nodded, her gaze sweeping over the room again. "The staff stayed behind," she said, her voice filled with respect. "They stayed behind to make sure that anyone who survived had a chance to escape. This diary… it's their final will." 

Bora frowned. "But this guide… it's about starting up a modern train. The kind that runs on electricity. We don't even know if the power grid is still functional." 

Minji nodded, flipping through the pages, "You're right. But look at this." She pointed to a section of the diary with a faded photograph. It showed an old, steam-powered train, its design clearly outdated. 

"It mentions a secondary system,” Minji explained, “An older, manually operated train that was used for maintenance and emergency situations. It's supposed to be somewhere in the station, tucked away in some forgotten siding." 

Siyeon, her earlier excitement returning, gasped. "A steam train! That's even cooler!" 

Yoohyeon, her earlier anxiety replaced by a sense of purpose, straightened her posture. "So, we find this train," she said, "and the diary should tell us how to get it running?" 

Minji nodded. "That's the plan. It's a long shot, but it's our best chance." 

“Fine. Let’s not waste any more time and find that train.” Bora sighed.  

-- 

Following the directions in the diary, the team cautiously made their way through the deserted train yard. They moved as one, their senses on high alert, wary of any lurking dangers. Bora took the lead, while Minji and Yoohyeon flanked Siyeon, keeping her safe within their protective triangle. 

The diary mentioned a specific siding, a forgotten corner of the yard where the old maintenance train was kept. After a short search, they found it. Tucked away behind a row of newer, sleeker trains, it stood like a relic of a bygone era – a hulking, steam-powered locomotive, its black paint faded and peeling, but its presence undeniably powerful. 

"There it is," Minji said, her voice filled with a mix of awe and anticipation. 

Siyeon gasped, her eyes wide with excitement. "It's beautiful," she whispered. 

Bora approached the train cautiously, inspecting its exterior. "Looks like it's been out of commission for a while," she observed. "But the diary says it's still functional, if we can get it started." 

Yoohyeon studied the diary as her brow furrowed in concentration. "Okay," she said, "the first step is to check the engine. There should be a maintenance hatch on the side." 

The team worked together, each member taking on a specific task.  

Minji used her knife to pry open the rusted hatch, while Bora consulted the diary for instructions. Yoohyeon kept watch, her rifle at the ready. Siyeon, despite her excitement, stayed close to the others, her curiosity tempered by the grim reality of their surroundings. 

Inside the engine, they found a complex network of pipes, valves, and levers. The diary provided a schematic, but it was clear that getting this old machine running would be a challenge. 

"Alright," Bora said, pointing to a specific valve in the diagram. "The diary says we need to prime this valve first. Yoohyeon, can you give me a hand?" 

Yoohyeon nodded, setting aside her rifle to assist Bora. Together, they followed the instructions in the diary, carefully manipulating the valve. 

"Next," Minji said, consulting the diary, "we need to check the water level in the boiler." 

They located the boiler and, following the instructions, checked the water level. It was low. 

The team worked together, each member taking on a specific task. Minji used her knife to pry open the rusted hatch, while Bora consulted the diary for instructions. Yoohyeon, ever cautious, kept watch, her rifle at the ready. Siyeon, despite her excitement, stayed close to the others, her curiosity tempered by the grim reality of their surroundings. 

Inside the engine, they found a complex network of pipes, valves, and levers. The diary provided a schematic, but it was clear that getting this old machine running would be a challenge. 

"Alright," Bora said, pointing to a specific valve in the diagram. "The diary says we need to prime this valve first. Yoohyeon, can you give me a hand?" 

Yoohyeon nodded, setting aside her rifle to assist Bora. Together, they followed the instructions in the diary, carefully manipulating the valve. 

"Next," Minji said, consulting the diary, "we need to check the water level in the boiler." 

They located the boiler and, following the instructions, checked the water level. It was low. 

"We need water," Bora said, her voice filled with concern. "But where are we going to find it?" 

Yoohyeon, her eyes scanning the abandoned trains around them, suddenly snapped her fingers. "Wait a minute!" she exclaimed. "What about the other trains? They might have leftover water bottles!" 

Minji's eyes lit up. "That's a great idea, Yoohyeon!" she exclaimed. "We can check the passenger cars. There's bound to be some water left behind." 

The team quickly moved to the nearest train, its doors hanging open, revealing rows of dusty seats and littered floors. They checked each car, finding several half-empty water bottles scattered throughout. 

"Jackpot!" Siyeon exclaimed, holding up a handful of bottles. "Looks like we're in luck!" 

They gathered the bottles and hurried back to the engine. Carefully, they poured the water into the boiler, filling it to the appropriate level. 

"Alright," Bora said, wiping her brow. "Let's see if this works." 

Following the remaining instructions in the diary, they primed the engine, adjusted the valves, and finally, pulled the lever to ignite the boiler. 

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a series of hisses and clanks, the engine sputtered to life, smoke billowing from its chimney. 

"We did it!" Siyeon cheered, her voice filled with triumph. 

Everyone exchanged smiles, a sense of accomplishment washing over them. They had faced a challenge, worked together, and overcome it.  

The old train, a relic of the past, was now their ticket back home.  

-- 

The train lurched forward, its wheels screeching against the tracks as it slowly gained momentum. With a final, powerful push, the train crashed through the barricades, splintering the wood and scattering debris. The team held on tight as the train lurched onto the main track, its speed increasing with each passing second. 

They were finally moving.  

As the train hurtled through the station, the team watched as the infected horde, now alerted to their presence, surged towards the train, their moans and snarls echoing through the station. But the train was too fast, too far ahead. The infected, with their slow, shuffling gait, had no chance of catching them. 

Siyeon, her earlier fear replaced by exhilaration, leaned out the window, taunting the infected horde. "So long, suckers!" she yelled, her voice filled with glee. "You'll never catch us now!" 

Yoohyeon, catching Siyeon's infectious enthusiasm, laughed along with her, waving mockingly at the frustrated infected. 

Minji and Bora watched on, their faces etched with relief. They had made it. They were finally going home. 

As a thankfully peaceful hour strode by without any interruptions, the rhythmic clatter of the train wheels against the tracks lulled Yoohyeon into a deep slumber. Bora, whose earlier tension had finally eased, also succumbed to sleep, curled up on a musty seat. Minji, however, remained vigilant, her gaze fixed on the passing landscape.  

The world outside was a blur of grays and greens, a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos of the city they had left behind. 

When Minji turned back towards the train's interior, she noticed Siyeon was missing. A slight frown creased her brow as she got up to search for the girl. To her relief, she found Siyeon in another compartment, sitting by herself while clutching onto WekWek tightly. 

Minji approached quietly as she sat down, "Hey," she said softly. "Everything okay?" 

Siyeon looked up, a small, almost wistful smile on her face. "Yeah," she replied, "I'm just… trying to process everything. It's like… I can't believe I'm actually being rescued. It's all so surreal.”  

Minji nodded, understanding the whirlwind of emotions Siyeon must be experiencing. "I know, it's a lot to take in”.  

Siyeon hugged WekWek closer. "I'm also… worried," She confessed. "About what happens next. When I arrive at the base and starting a whole new life,” Her voice trembled slightly. "Will… will I ever see you and everyone else again?”  

Minji's heart went out to Siyeon. She knew that fear, that uncertainty of what the future held.  

"When we get to the base," Minji explained gently, "you'll be separated from us for a while. The medical officers will need to run some tests, make sure you're healthy. Then, you'll be sent to a ward to recover." 

Siyeon's eyes widened slightly. "And what about you guys?" she asked. 

"We'll have to report to our superiors about the mission," Minji replied. "There will be a lot of… paperwork to do. A lot of debriefings. We also have to get our own tests as well, in case." She paused, then added with a reassuring smile, "But after all that is done, I promise I'll come visit you. As soon as I can." 

Siyeon's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Really?" she whispered. 

Minji nodded, holding out her pinky finger. "Yeah, promise," she said. 

Siyeon linked her pinky with Minji's, a small smile gracing her lips. “Promise”. 

-- 

The ancient steam train let out a long, weary whistle as it approached the towering walls of Base 7.  

Unlike the desolate ruins they'd left behind, the military compound sprawled before them like a fortress city untouched by time - a testament to humanity's resilience. 

Multiple layers of reinforced barriers stretched towards the sky, topped with guard posts where soldiers maintained their vigilant watch. Searchlights swept across the approaching train, and through the grimy windows, Siyeon pressed her face against the glass, taking in the sight of what seemed like an impossible oasis. 

Beyond the walls, organized rows of buildings stretched as far as the eye could see. Clean streets, functional vehicles, and most striking of all - people. Normal people, walking about their daily lives, children playing in designated areas, and soldiers performing their duties. It was a self-contained city, a pocket of civilization preserved amidst the chaos of the outside world. 

The train slowly ground to a halt at the designated platform, where a team of military personnel was already waiting. The screech of brakes echoed through the compartment as Minji helped Siyeon to her feet. 

"Remember what I said?" Minji asked softly, straightening Siyeon's jacket. 

Siyeon nodded, clutching WekWek close to her chest. "Medical checks first, then recovery ward." 

The doors opened, and immediately, the platform burst into activity. Soldiers in hazmat suits approached methodically, while medical officers prepared their equipment. Bora and Yoohyeon stepped out first, snapping to attention and offering crisp salutes to the commanding officers present. 

"Captain Kim Bora, reporting successful completion of Operation Seoul," Bora announced, her voice carrying the weight of authority that Siyeon had rarely heard during their journey. 

Minji guided Siyeon down the steps, where two medical officers immediately approached with gentle smiles behind their protective masks. "Hello. We'll be taking care of you from here," one of them said warmly. 

Siyeon turned back to her rescuers, her eyes filling with tears despite her best efforts to remain strong. These women had risked their lives to save her, had shown her kindness when she thought the world had none left to give. 

"Thank you," she managed to say, her voice thick with emotion. "For everything." 

Yoohyeon broke ranks first, stepping forward to ruffle Siyeon's hair one last time. "Stay out of trouble and don’t scare the others with your enthusiasm, okay?" 

Bora maintained her professional demeanor, but her eyes softened as she nodded to Siyeon. "You did well out there." 

Minji stepped forward last, meeting Siyeon's gaze with warm reassurance. "Remember our promise," she said, holding up her pinky finger one more time. 

Siyeon linked her pinky with Minji's, managing a smile through her tears. "I'll be waiting for your visit." 

As the medical officers gently led Siyeon toward the waiting ambulance, she turned back one last time. The three women stood at attention, their uniforms dusty from the journey but their postures proud. They raised their hands in farewell - not a military salute this time, but a genuine goodbye to someone who had become more than just another rescue mission. 

Siyeon waved back until the ambulance doors closed, separating her from her saviors. As the vehicle pulled away, she hugged WekWek tighter, knowing that while one journey had ended, another was just beginning. But this time, she wasn't alone. She had people waiting for her, people who had promised to return. 

The three members of the special operation watched until the ambulance disappeared around a corner. Only then did Bora let out a long breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly. 

"A nice cold beer would be perfect right now,” Bora sighed as she stretched her arms with a groan. 

“Hey, don’t go visiting Siyeon later drunk. We need you, sane.” Minji joked lightly.  

“Wouldn’t Captain be the same, even when she’s drunk?” Yoohyeon added with a smirk. 

“Excuse me? Yoohyeon, do you want to do a hundred push-ups right now?” Bora glared.  

“I apologize, Captain.” Yoohyeon straightened herself.  

Laughter echoed across the platform as the three soldiers turned toward their headquarters, leaving behind the steam train that had carried them home.  

For them, the day was not over just yet.  

-- 

The fluorescent lights of the medical facility were harsh after days of darkness. Siyeon squinted, following the nurse's crisp white uniform down sterile corridors that seemed to stretch endlessly. The air smelled of antiseptic and bleach – so different from the musty apartment she'd called home for two years. 

"Just through here," the nurse said, gesturing to an examination room. Her voice was gentle, as if she understood how overwhelming this all was. "Dr. Kang will be with you shortly." 

The examination was thorough. Blood draws, chest X-rays, immune response tests – each procedure documented with clinical precision. Dr. Kang, a woman with kind eyes and graying hair, explained everything in a calm, measured voice. 

"Your bloodwork shows several nutritional deficiencies," she said, reviewing the results. "Nothing we can't address with supplements and a proper diet. You've done remarkably well, considering everything you’ve gone through," She paused, meeting Siyeon's eyes. "But we'll need to start you on a series of antidote jabs. It’s standard protocol for all survivors. It'll help boost your immune system." 

Siyeon nodded, barely feeling the needle when it came. Her mind was elsewhere, still processing the reality that she was actually here, actually safe. 

"Now then," Dr. Kang said, making a final note in her chart, "How about we get you cleaned up? The shower facilities are ready." 

The bathroom was small but spotless. Siyeon stood frozen for a moment, staring at the shower head.  

How long had it been since she'd felt proper hot water?  

The nurse had left fresh towels and a hospital gown, the material thin but clean. 

When the water hit her skin, Siyeon finally broke down.  

Two years of grime and fear and loneliness seemed to wash away, and with them came tears she hadn't known she was holding back. She pressed her forehead against the cool tiles, letting the water mix with her tears as sobs wracked her body. This was real. She was really here, really alive, really safe. 

She stayed under the spray until her fingers pruned and her tears ran dry. 

After she'd dressed in the provided hospital gown, another nurse – this one with a bright smile and cloud-like hair – led her to the cafeteria. "It’s dinner time," she announced cheerfully. "You must be starving. Eat to your hearts content, kiddo." 

The cafeteria was larger than Siyeon expected, filled with long tables and the quiet murmur of conversation.  

Other survivors in identical hospital gowns sat in small groups or alone, some talking quietly, others focused intently on their food. They all had the same look in their eyes – a mixture of disbelief and gratitude, as if they couldn't quite believe where they were. 

Siyeon joined the line, her hands shaking slightly as she picked up a tray. The serving counter stretched before her, filled with foods she'd only dreamed about during her isolation. Fresh kimchi, its red color vibrant and alive. Steaming japchae noodles, glossy with sesame oil. Real meat, not the preserved stuff from cans, but actual grilled beef that made her mouth water. Vegetables in every color imaginable, and fruits that looked like they'd been plucked from trees just hours ago. 

She piled her plate high, not caring if she looked greedy. At a corner table, away from the others, she took her first bite. The flavors exploded on her tongue – spicy, sweet, savory, fresh. Nothing like the bland, metallic taste of canned food she'd survived on for so long. She ate with single-minded focus, barely pausing between bites, until she felt the wetness on her cheeks. 

She was crying again, but this time, the tears were different. These were tears of gratitude, of joy, of relief. Each bite was a reminder that she'd made it, that she was alive, that she had a future beyond her little apartment fortress. 

In between bites, she found herself reaching for WekWek, only to remember the doctors had taken her beloved companion for decontamination. They'd promised to return him, cleaned and sanitized, but his absence left an ache in her chest. 

Still, as she sat there in the quiet corner of the cafeteria, surrounded by the gentle clink of utensils and soft murmur of voices, Siyeon felt something she hadn't experienced in a long time: hope. Real, tangible hope.  

And somewhere out there in this massive facility, Minji was filling out reports, probably thinking about her too. 

Siyeon smiled, taking another bite of kimchi. 

She is home.  

-- 

The debriefing room was stark and utilitarian – a large rectangular table surrounded by uncomfortable chairs, walls lined with maps of Seoul marked with red zones and evacuation routes. Colonel Kang led the session, his weathered face impassive as Minji finished her report. 

"...and that's when we boarded the train and made our way back to HQ," Minji concluded, her voice steady despite her exhaustion. 

Colonel Kang studied the mission report, his eyes scanning each detail meticulously. Beside him, Major Lee tapped his stylus against a tablet, reviewing the team's path through the city. 

"Lieutenant," the Colonel finally said, looking up. "Your decision to evacuate via the train rather than holding position at Namsan Tower for helicopter extraction was... unorthodox." 

Minji straightened in her chair. "Sir, I take full responsibility for that decision. At the time, I believed—" 

"Your decision ultimately brought your team back safely," Colonel Kang interrupted, surprising everyone. "And with a survivor, no less. That's what matters." 

Bora and Yoohyeon exchanged glances across the table. Minji blinked, caught off-guard by the Colonel's response. 

Major Lee leaned forward. "This survivor – Siyeon, was it? Her existence proves our theory that Seoul may still harbor pockets of civilians. We'll need to incorporate this information into future operations." 

Colonel Kang nodded as he closed the file with a decisive snap. "Your team has performed admirably under extraordinary circumstances. Take one week for recovery and decompression. We'll reconvene after to discuss your next deployment." 

The three soldiers stood at attention, saluting crisply. 

"One more thing, Lieutenant," Colonel Kang added, his stern gaze softening slightly as it dropped to her bandaged ankle. "Get that properly looked at before you leave the base. That's an order." 

"Yes, sir," Minji replied, trying not to wince as she shifted her weight. 

"Dismissed," the Colonel said. 

As they filed out of the briefing room, Bora's face broke into a weary smile. "One whole week," she sighed, stretching her arms above her head. "I can already taste that cold beer in my fridge." 

Yoohyeon yawned, her eyes heavy-lidded. "I'm going to sleep for forty-eight hours straight. Please do not call me unless the world is ending." 

Minji nodded absently, her mind elsewhere. "You two go ahead. I need to get this ankle checked out anyway." 

Bora's eyes narrowed slightly. "And maybe check on Siyeon while you're at medical?" 

"I promised her I'd visit," Minji said simply. 

Yoohyeon and Bora exchanged a meaningful look that Minji pretended not to notice. 

"What?" Minji asked defensively. 

"Nothing," Yoohyeon said, trying and failing to suppress a smile. "It's just, you’re never in a hurry to visit survivors we’ve brought back on missions, Lieutanant.”  

"This one's different," Minji replied, then immediately regretted her choice of words when she saw Bora's eyebrows shoot up. 

"Different how, exactly?" Bora pressed, a sly smile playing on her lips. 

Minji felt her cheeks warm. "You know what I mean. She was all alone for two years. She needs... reassurance." 

"Mmhmm," Bora hummed, her smile widening. "Well, you go provide that reassurance. Yoohyeon and I will visit her tomorrow.”  

Yoohyeon stifled a giggle as Minji shot them both a withering look. 

"Come on, let's leave the lieutenant to her duties." 

As they walked away, Minji could hear Yoohyeon's poorly concealed laughter echoing down the corridor. She shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips.  

Those two were impossible. 

Her smile faded as she limped toward the medical wing. The Colonel's order gave her the perfect excuse, but she knew she would have found her way here regardless. The pain in her ankle was nothing compared to the strange, nervous flutter in her chest at the thought of seeing Siyeon again. 

The medical wing was quieter than usual at this hour. Most of the day shift had already left, leaving only essential personnel. Dr. Kang looked up from her station as Minji approached, recognition flickering across his face. 

"Lieutenant Kim," she greeted. "Colonel Kang radioed ahead that you'd be coming. Let's take a look at that ankle." 

Minji sat on the examination table as Dr. Kang gently unwrapped the bandage. She winced slightly as her fingers probed the swollen area. 

"Mild sprain," she concluded after a brief examination. "Nothing broken, thankfully. I'll rewrap it properly and give you some anti-inflammatories. Stay off it as much as possible for the next 48 hours." 

Minji nodded, watching as she applied a more substantial brace to her ankle. This wasn't her first injury, and it certainly wouldn't be her last. But as Dr. Kang worked, she gathered her courage. 

"Doctor," she began, keeping her voice casual, "the survivor we brought in, Siyeon. How is she doing?" 

The doctor's hands paused momentarily, a knowing look crossing her face. "Ah, yes. Remarkable case. Some nutritional deficiencies, as expected, but otherwise in surprisingly good health. We've started her on supplements and completed the standard immunity boosters." 

"And her placement?" Minji asked, trying to keep her voice neutral. 

"Temporary shelter assignment in Block D. Room 217." Dr. Choi glanced up, her expression curious. "There will need to be a permanent placement decision eventually, of course. The committee meets weekly to review cases." 

Minji nodded, processing this information. 

"Is there anything else, Lieutenant?" Dr. Choi asked, finishing with her ankle. 

Minji hesitated. "No. Thank you, Doctor." 

As she eased herself off the examination table, Minji thanked Dr. Choi and soon found herself gravitating towards Block D. The corridors of the base stretched before her, the familiar route suddenly seeming longer than usual. Her ankle, now properly supported, felt better, but Minji still moved carefully. 

Block D, Room 217. Siyeon was waiting. 

Chapter Text

Minji stood outside the door, her hand raised to knock, yet hesitating. The corridor was quiet at this late hour, most residents already settled in for the night. The overhead lights hummed softly, casting a sterile glow over the institutional hallway. 

She took a breath and knocked, three sharp raps against the metal door. 

For a moment, silence. Then shuffling footsteps, and the door slid open. 

Siyeon stood in the doorway, her eyes widening at the sight of Minji. She was dressed in standard-issue base pajamas – soft blue cotton that hung loosely on her frame. Her hair was still damp from the shower, framing a face now scrubbed clean of the grime that had become almost a second skin during their journey.  

Without the layer of dirt and sweat, she looked younger, softer somehow. 

"Minji!" Siyeon gasped, her face lighting up with pure, unfiltered joy. "You came!" 

Before Minji could respond, Siyeon launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around the lieutenant in an enthusiastic embrace that nearly knocked Minji off-balance on her injured ankle. 

"Whoa—" Minji instinctively stiffened, then gently disentangled herself from Siyeon's arms. "Careful. I, uh—I haven't showered yet. Still in my field gear." She gestured awkwardly at her uniform, still dusty and bearing the scents of smoke, sweat, and the lingering mustiness of the abandoned train station. "There could still be bacteria or... contaminants." 

Siyeon laughed, the sound light and carefree in the quiet corridor. "I survived two years in zombie-infested Seoul by myself," she reminded Minji with a playful nudge. "I think I can handle a little dirt from my favorite lieutenant." 

Minji couldn't help but giggle, "Fair point," she conceded, relaxing slightly. 

"Do you want to come in?" Siyeon asked, stepping back and gesturing to her room. "Or... are you just checking in? I know it's late and you must be exhausted..." 

"I’ll come in," Minji said quickly, perhaps too quickly. "If that's okay? I wanted to see how you're settling in." 

Siyeon's face lit up as she stepped aside. "Please do!" 

Minji stepped into the small room, taking in her surroundings. The quarters were simple but comfortable – a standard issue bed with crisp white sheets, a small desk and chair, a basic dresser, and a narrow window that looked out onto the compound. It was sparse, utilitarian, but worlds apart from the makeshift fortress Siyeon had called home for the past two years. 

On the bed, propped against the pillow, sat a freshly cleaned WekWek, the stuffed teddy bear looking almost brand new after its decontamination process. 

"They gave him back to me after dinner," Siyeon explained, noticing Minji's gaze. She picked him up and hugged him to her chest. "He smells different now. Like chemicals. But they said he's completely safe." 

Minji smiled, watching as Siyeon caressed the toy's head. "I'm glad they returned him so quickly. I know how important he is to you." 

Siyeon nodded, then gestured to the room's only chair. "Sit! Please! Your ankle must be hurting." 

Minji lowered herself gratefully into the chair, stretching her injured leg out in front of her. The fresh brace Dr. Kang had applied was helping, but the day's exertions had taken their toll. 

"How is it?" Siyeon asked, perching on the edge of the bed, her eyes full of concern. 

"Just a sprain. Nothing serious," Minji assured her. "How about you? How are you finding everything here?" 

Siyeon's grinned as she launched into an animated description of her day – the medical tests, the shower ("The water was so hot, Minji! And it just kept coming!"), the food ("Real meat! And vegetables that weren't from cans!"), the feeling of clean clothes against her skin. She spoke rapidly, her hands gesturing wildly, occasionally hugging WekWek closer as if to make sure he was part of the excitement too. 

Minji found herself smiling, genuinely smiling, as she watched Siyeon's enthusiastic recounting. There was something refreshing about her unbridled joy, her ability to find wonder in things most residents of the base took for granted. 

"...and then Dr. Kang said my blood tests were mostly good, just some vitamin things that can be fixed, and everyone's been so nice, especially this nurse with really fluffy hair who gave me extra dessert at dinner and..." Siyeon paused mid-sentence, suddenly looking sheepish. "Sorry. I'm talking too much, aren't I? I just... it's been so long since I've had anyone to talk to. Besides WekWek, I mean." 

"Don't apologize," Minji said softly. "I like listening to you." 

Siyeon's cheeks flushed slightly, and she ducked her head, suddenly shy. "Really?" 

"Really," Minji confirmed with a nod, "It's... refreshing." 

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the distant hum of the base's ventilation system. Minji found herself studying Siyeon's face, noting the changes that just one day of proper care had made. Her skin looked brighter, her eyes clearer. Even her posture was different – less defensive, more open. 

"So..." Siyeon finally said, hugging WekWek to her chest. "What happens now? To me, I mean." 

Minji considered the question.  

"Well, they'll keep you in medical observation for a few more days. Make sure you're adjusting well, continuing those vitamin supplements. Then there will be a placement test. The committee will decide where you'll be permanently housed, what kind of work assignment might suit you..." 

"Work assignment?" Siyeon perked up. "Like, a job?" 

Minji nodded. "Everyone in the base contributes something. Based on your skills, interests, physical condition. There are agricultural units, maintenance teams, educational programs for the children and many others. Once that’s decided, it will determine your permanent residence but I was actually wondering...” 

Siyeon looked at her, somewhat anticipating something.  

“...if you would be okay living together with me.”  

Minji confessed, awkwardly scratching her cheek as she looked away. “I mean, my house is big enough for two people. And I wasn’t sure if you would be okay living alone again, after everything you’ve went through. Plus, I am someone you are familiar with and I wasn’t sure if...”  

“Minji.”  

“Yeah?” 

Siyeon smiled softly, this time with a genuine look on her face. “I would love that, if you’d allow.” 

“Really?” Minji looked at Siyeon, surprised but also immense relief flooded through her chest. She was expecting a no.  

Siyeon beamed, brighter than before. “It’s a big fat yes from me.” 

“Alright. Then, I’ll let them know of your decision. It’s getting late so I should get going.” Minji rose as she moved toward the doorway.  

"Will you come tomorrow?" Siyeon asked, her voice hopeful. "Maybe you could show me around? If your ankle isn't too bad?" 

I'd like that," she said. "Maybe after your morning check-up? I could meet you at the medical wing?" 

Siyeon's face lit up with that same unguarded joy that had greeted Minji at the door. "That’ll be perfect! I’ll see you there, tommorow then!”  

-- 

The lieutenant's week off was usually spent with lots of sleeping, eating and training. But that was before Siyeon entered her life.  

Now, Minji was spending her rest days by helping Siyeon navigate through the documentation process, escorting her to various medical check-ups, providing tours around the base and making sure she was settling in well. 

Not that she minded. 

The medical wing's fluorescent lights cast a sterile glow over the corridor as Minji leaned against the wall outside Examination Room 3, scrolling through routine reports on her tablet. She glanced up at every sound from within—the murmur of Dr. Kang's voice, Siyeon's occasional laughter, the beep of medical equipment. 

When the door finally slid open, Siyeon bounded out, a wide grin lighting her face. 

"Minji! Dr. Kang says I've got nothing wrong in my system after running through the tests!" She waved a small packet of supplements triumphantly. "All I have to do is to keep eating this once a day to make sure I get my vitamin requirements checked!" 

Dr. Kang followed, adjusting her glasses as she nodded to Minji. "Lieutenant Kim. Your friend is making good progress." She tapped something into her own tablet. "Physically, at least. We'll continue monitoring her psychological adjustment, but so far, she's exceeding expectations." 

"I told you I'm perfectly sane," Siyeon stage-whispered to Minji, loud enough for the doctor to hear. "Just because I talk to a teddy bear doesn't mean I'm crazy." 

Dr. Kang's lips twitched. "Ms. Lee, many people developed coping mechanisms during the crisis. Yours seems to have been particularly effective." She glanced at Minji. "The lieutenant will ensure you make your follow-up appointment next week?" 

Minji nodded. "Of course, Doctor." 

As they walked away from the medical wing, Siyeon linked her arm through Minji's—a gesture that had become familiar over the past few days. At first, such casual contact had made Minji tense, but now she found herself leaning into it. 

"Where to today, Lieutenant Tour Guide?" Siyeon asked, bouncing slightly on her toes. 

"The greenhouse," Minji replied. "I thought you might like to see where some of our food comes from." 

Siyeon's eyes widened. "A real greenhouse? With actual plants? Not just bean sprouts in a bucket?" 

Minji couldn't help but laugh—a sound that had become more frequent since Siyeon's arrival. "Much bigger than a bucket." 

-- 

The massive greenhouse dome sprawled across a significant portion of the eastern sector, its glass panels catching the afternoon sunlight. Inside, rows of vegetables stretched in orderly lines beneath a canopy of fruit trees. The air was thick with humidity and the rich scent of soil. 

"This is... incredible," Siyeon breathed, turning in a slow circle as she took it all in. Her fingers trailed reverently over glossy leaves. "There’s so much life." 

A group of workers in green uniforms looked up from their tasks, offering curious glances at the newcomer. Minji nodded to them—she knew most by name but didn't interrupt their work. 

"How do they keep the bugs away?" Siyeon asked, peering closely at a tomato plant heavy with fruit. "I could never keep anything alive in my apartment without aphids taking over." 

"Beneficial insects," Minji explained, pointing to a small mesh enclosure where butterflies fluttered. "Ladybugs, butterflies, praying mantises. They maintain the ecosystem." 

"Like a real garden," Siyeon whispered, her eyes bright with wonder. 

Minji found herself watching Siyeon more than the plants—the way her face lit up with each new discovery, how she asked questions that never would have occurred to Minji. 

"Lieutenant Kim?" A young man approached, wiping soil from his hands. "Is this the survivor I’ve been hearing all about?" 

"Hyunwoo, this is Siyeon," Minji introduced them. "Hyunwoo oversees vegetable production." 

Siyeon extended her hand with a beaming smile. "Nice to meet you! Your tomatoes are amazing! I tried to grow some in my apartment, but they never got bigger than marbles." 

Hyunwoo's reserved expression melted into a surprised smile as he shook her hand. "It's all about the soil composition and proper light cycles." He hesitated, then added, "Though if you're interested, we always need volunteers. Even just for a few hours a week." 

"Really?" Siyeon looked to Minji, excitement evident. "Could I?" 

Minji nodded. "Once your placement is finalized, I'm sure arrangements could be made." 

As they continued the tour, Minji found herself explaining systems and protocols she normally took for granted—the water recycling facility, the community kitchens, the educational center where children who survived or were born after the epidemic learned about a world they'd never seen. 

By mid-afternoon, Minji's injured ankle was throbbing, though she tried not to show it. But Siyeon, increasingly attuned to Minji's expressions, noticed her subtle wince. 

"How about we take a break and sit down," she said firmly, guiding Minji to a bench in the small recreation area. "You promised Dr. Kang you wouldn't overdo it." 

"I'm fine," Minji protested, even as she gratefully sank onto the bench. 

"Stubborn Lieutanant," Siyeon chided gently, sitting beside her.  

Their shoulders touched, a warm point of contact.  

"Thank you for taking the time to show me everything today." 

Minji looked at her—really looked at her.  

The afternoon light caught in Siyeon's hair, highlighting strands of blacks. Her eyes, clear and bright, reflected the sky above, and there was a smudge of soil on her cheek from where she'd brushed against a plant in the greenhouse. 

Without thinking, Minji reached out and wiped the smudge away with her thumb. Siyeon went very still, her eyes widening slightly. 

"Dirt," Minji explained, her voice inexplicably hoarse. "From the greenhouse." 

"Oh," Siyeon said softly, her gaze not leaving Minji's face. "Hehe." She beamed, with that same silly grin that Minji grew to adore. Then she leaned her head on Minji's shoulder and hummed. 

"This is nice," she murmured. "Being here with you." 

Minji found herself relaxing, resting her head gently against Siyeon's.  

"Yeah," she agreed quietly. "It’s quite nice." 

-- 

The days that followed fell into a gentle rhythm. Medical check-ups for Siyeon in the morning, followed by explorations of the base. Meals together in the communal dining hall, where Siyeon's uninhibited enthusiasm gradually drew others to their table—first Bora and Yoohyeon, then some of Minji's colleagues, curious about the survivor from Seoul. 

Minji watched as Siyeon, bit by bit, wove herself into the fabric of the base community. People were drawn to her openness, her genuine interest in their lives, her uncomplicated joy in things they'd long taken for granted. 

"Sign here, and here," the administrator said, pointing to marked lines on the tablet. "These confirm that you understand the responsibilities of sponsorship." 

Minji pressed her thumb to the scanner, watching as her signature materialized on the document. The administrator nodded, satisfied. 

"Final approval from the Residence Committee should come through by end of day," she said, taking back the tablet. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Kim. I believe this is the fastest integration process we've had for a survivor." 

"Siyeon has shown remarkable adaptability," Minji replied formally, though she couldn't quite suppress her smile. 

Outside the administration building, Siyeon waited with WekWek clutched to her chest and a small bag of possessions at her feet. When she caught sight of Minji descending the steps, her face broke into a radiant smile. 

"Is it official?" she called. 

Minji nodded, holding up the confirmation slip. "All done. You're coming home with me." 

Siyeon cheered as she rushed forward, throwing her arms around Minji in a fierce hug. "Thank you so, so, much!”  

Minji returned the embrace, breathing in the now-familiar scent of Siyeon's military-issue shampoo, feeling the solid warmth of her against her chest. 

"Aww, isn't this sweet," came Bora's teasing voice. "Our lieutenant adopted the stray.”  

Minji broke the hug to see Bora and Yoohyeon approaching, carrying packages. Bora wore her signature smirk, while Yoohyeon looked genuinely delighted. 

"I'm not a stray," Siyeon protested, but her smile remained firmly in place as she gently punched her own chest with pride, "I'm a highly skilled survivor of the great apocalypse!" 

"Who talks to teddy bears," Bora countered, but her tone was affectionate. She thrust a box into Siyeon's arms. "Here. House-warming gifts." 

Siyeon's eyes widened. "Gifts? For me?" 

"Of course it’s for you." Bora rolled her eyes. "Who else would be moving in with our Lieutenant today? WekWek?" 

"Open them!" Yoohyeon encouraged, bouncing slightly on her toes. 

Bora's box contained practical items—toiletries not available in the standard rations, preserved fruits from her family's farm outside the base, a small toolkit, a flashlight.  

"It’s so that you don't have to ask Minji for everything," Bora explained with a shrug. 

"These are amazing," Siyeon breathed, carefully examining each item. "Thank you, Captain!" 

"Just Bora is fine," the captain muttered, looking oddly embarrassed by Siyeon's genuine gratitude. 

Yoohyeon stepped forward next, offering a small, tissue-wrapped package. "Mine's not as useful, but..." 

Siyeon unwrapped it carefully to reveal a tiny military uniform, perfectly sized for WekWek. Complete with miniature lieutenant insignia. 

"You made this?" Siyeon gasped, holding it up to the bear. 

Yoohyeon nodded shyly. "I thought... since he's going to live with a lieutenant now..." 

"I love it! It’s so cute!"  

Siyeon immediately began dressing WekWek in the uniform, her fingers deftly working the tiny buttons. When she finished, she held the bear up for inspection. "Captain WekWek, reporting for duty!" 

Minji couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the stuffed bear in its perfect replica of her uniform. "He outranks you," she told Siyeon with mock seriousness. "You'll have to salute him now." 

"Gladly," Siyeon replied, offering a dramatic salute to the bear. Even Bora chuckled at that. 

Siyeon stepped forward and hugged both Bora and Yoohyeon. "Thank you both. For everything. For coming to Seoul. For bringing me here." 

Yoohyeon returned the hug enthusiastically, while Bora awkwardly patted Siyeon's back, her expression softening. 

"Don't make me regret it," Bora warned, but there was no heat in her words. "And keep an eye on our Minji. Make sure she doesn't work too hard." 

"I will," Siyeon promised solemnly. 

"We should go," Minji said, checking her watch. "The car is waiting." 

Indeed, a small military vehicle idled nearby, driven by a young private who kept glancing curiously in their direction. Minji helped load Siyeon's meager possessions and the new gifts into the back. 

As Siyeon climbed into the passenger seat, Bora pulled Minji aside. 

"So," she said, her voice low but laced with amusement, "just roommates, huh?" 

Minji felt her cheeks warm. "Yes, just roommates. She needs stability, Bora. Someone she trusts." 

"Hmm." Bora's knowing smile widened. "And the fact that you haven't stopped smiling since she arrived is just... what? Professional satisfaction at a successful mission?" 

"I smile plenty," Minji protested weakly. 

"Not like this." Bora's expression turned more serious. "It's good, Minji. Seeing you like this again.”  

Before Minji could formulate a response, Bora turned back to the car, waving cheerfully to Siyeon. "Don't let her bore you with military protocols!" she called. "Make her have some fun!" 

"Yes, Bora!" Siyeon replied with another salute, this one even more exaggerated than before. 

Yoohyeon offered a more reserved wave. "Bye, Siyeon! Bye, Lieutenant!" 

Minji slid into passenger's seat and closed the door. As they pulled away, Siyeon twisted in her seat to wave until Bora and Yoohyeon were out of sight. 

"They're really nice," Siyeon said, settling back in her seat, WekWek in his new uniform clutched to her chest. "I can see why you're friends with them, and not just comrade in arms." 

"Bora's been my best friend since we were kids," Minji said, navigating the vehicle toward the residential sector. "We've been through everything together." 

"And Yoohyeon?" 

"We met after the outbreak. But she’s good, talented, just needs a bit more confidence in herself.”  

Siyeon nodded thoughtfully. "What was Bora saying to you, before we left?" 

Minji kept her eyes firmly on the road. "Nothing important. Just... reminding me of some paperwork." 

"Oh." Siyeon sounded disappointed, but didn't press further. Instead, she gazed out the window at the passing buildings.  

"Where exactly do you live?" 

"Sector E," Minji replied, grateful for the change of subject. "Officer housing. It's quieter than the main residential blocks." 

"Do you have neighbors?" 

"Some. Most of the units in my building are occupied by senior officers who are often away on missions." 

"So, it's quiet," Siyeon mused. "After my apartment in Seoul... I'm not sure if I'll be good at quiet." 

Minji glanced over, catching the flicker of uncertainty in Siyeon's expression. "You can be as loud as you want," she assured her. "It's your home now too." 

Siyeon's smile returned, brilliant and unguarded. "Our home," she repeated, testing the words. "I like how that sounds." 

“Yeah..” Minji nodded with a warm smile, “Our home.”  

-- 

The sharp crack of gunfire echoed across the training grounds, punctuated by the metallic ping of bullets striking their targets. The morning sun cast long shadows across the range as Yoohyeon adjusted her stance, lifted her rifle, and squeezed the trigger with practiced precision. 

Ping.  

Another perfect hit. 

Sweat beaded on her forehead despite the cool morning air. She'd been at it for nearly two hours already, her arms beginning to tremble slightly from the exertion. But she didn't stop. There were only two days left before their break ended and they'd be back on active duty. Two days to improve. 

Ping.  

Center mass. 

She reloaded methodically; her movements economical. When she'd first joined the military, the weight of the rifle had felt alien in her hands. Now it was an extension of herself—a tool she wielded with growing confidence. 

Ping.  

Headshot. 

"Not bad, Private." 

Yoohyeon nearly dropped her rifle at the unexpected voice. She spun around to see Captain Bora leaning against the concrete barrier that marked the edge of the firing range, arms crossed over her chest, watching with an appraising gaze. 

"C-Captain!" Yoohyeon snapped to attention, rifle held properly at her side. "I didn't realize you were—how long have you been—" 

"Long enough to see you hit ten targets in a row," Bora replied, pushing herself away from the wall and walking closer. She wore civilian clothes today—dark jeans and a loose white button-up with the sleeves rolled to her elbows—but somehow still managed to exude the same commanding presence as when she was in uniform. "At ease, Yoohyeon. We're not on duty." 

Yoohyeon relaxed marginally, though her spine remained straight. "Sorry, ma'am. Force of habit." 

Bora rolled her eyes. "Drop the 'ma'am' too. It's our week off." She gestured to the targets downrange, red circles marking all the bullseyes. "You never miss, do you?" 

"I miss sometimes," Yoohyeon said quietly, ducking her head. "Last week during the qualifiers I was off by three centimeters on the 500-meter target." 

"Three centimeters," Bora repeated with a short laugh. "At 500 meters. That's practically a miss, sure." 

Yoohyeon couldn't tell if she was being mocked or complimented. With Bora, it was sometimes hard to tell the difference. She busied herself with setting the safety on her rifle. 

"How long have you been out here?" Bora asked, glancing at the pile of spent casings. 

"Since 6am," Yoohyeon admitted. 

Bora checked her watch. "It's nearly 9am. Have you eaten?" 

Yoohyeon shook her head. "I was going to grab something at the mess after." 

"Hmm." Bora seemed to consider something, then made a decisive gesture. "Pack up. You're done for today." 

"But I still have another hour scheduled-" 

"That wasn't a suggestion, Private." Bora's tone was firm, but there was no real bite to it. "You've done enough. Have lunch with me instead." 

Yoohyeon blinked, sure she'd misheard. "Lunch? With you?" 

"Is that so shocking?" Bora raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quirking upward. "I do eat, you know." 

"No, I just-uh," Yoohyeon fumbled for words, her usual eloquence abandoning her. "You've never asked before." 

"Well, I'm asking now. Unless you have other plans with someone?" 

"No! No other plans," Yoohyeon said quickly. "Lunch sounds nice." 

"Good. I know a place just outside the base. Little café that actually serves decent coffee." Bora watched as Yoohyeon efficiently broke down her rifle and packed it into its case. "Meet me at the south gate in twenty minutes? That'll give you time to check your weapon and change." 

Yoohyeon nodded, suddenly very conscious of her sweat-damp training clothes. "Yes, Cap—I mean, yes." 

Bora's smile widened fractionally. "Twenty minutes," she repeated, then turned and walked away, leaving Yoohyeon staring after her in confusion. 

-- 

The café was barely more than a hole in the wall—a small, unassuming building tucked between an electronics repair shop and a laundromat in the civilian settlement that had grown up around the military base. A hand-painted sign hung above the door: "Bean & Brew," with a simple coffee cup logo beneath. 

Inside, the space was cozy rather than cramped, with mismatched wooden tables and chairs arranged around a central counter. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and soft instrumental music played from hidden speakers. The rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans permeated the air. 

It was nearly empty at this hour—just a couple at a corner table and an elderly man reading a physical newspaper by the window. 

"This is nice," Yoohyeon said, glancing around appreciatively. "I didn't know places like this existed outside the base." 

"Most military personnel stick to the bars or the fast-food joints," Bora replied, leading the way to a table near the back. "They're missing out. The owner grows the coffee beans on his farm about twenty kilometers south. Best you'll find in the region." 

A middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper beard appeared from behind the counter, his face lighting up when he spotted Bora. 

"Bora! It's been too long," he called, wiping his hands on his apron as he approached their table. 

"Hello, Mr. Choi," Bora greeted him with a genuine smile—the kind Yoohyeon had rarely seen directed at anyone but Minji. "How's business?" 

"Can't complain, can't complain. My wife's taken over most of the farming, so I get to spend more time here." He glanced curiously at Yoohyeon. "And who's this? New recruit?" 

"This is Private Kim Yoohyeon," Bora introduced her. "She's on my team. Best sharpshooter in the regiment." 

Yoohyeon felt her cheeks warm at the unexpected praise. "It's nice to meet you, sir." 

Mr. Choi waved away the formality. "None of that 'sir' business here. This is neutral territory." He handed them each a handwritten menu. "What can I get you ladies?" 

Bora gestured to Yoohyeon. "Whatever she wants. My treat." 

Yoohyeon scanned the menu, overwhelmed by the options after months of military rations. Everything sounded delicious, but conscious of Bora's generosity, she played it safe. 

"Just an iced Americano, please," she said, closing the menu. 

Bora frowned. "That's not a meal." 

"I'm not very hungry," Yoohyeon lied. In truth, she was famished after her training session, but she didn't want to impose. 

"Nonsense! You've been at the range for three hours." Bora turned to Mr. Choi. "She'll have the full breakfast set—eggs, toast, the works—and an Iced Americano, large sized. I'll take my usual." 

"Coming right up," Mr. Choi said with a knowing smile, collecting the menus. 

When he had disappeared, Yoohyeon fidgeted with her napkin. "You didn't have to do that. The coffee would have been fine." 

Bora leaned back in her chair, studying Yoohyeon with an intensity that made her want to squirm. "Why won't you let me buy you a proper meal? Are you afraid I'll hold it over you or something?" 

"N-no! It's not that," Yoohyeon protested. "I just don't want to... to presume." 

"It's not presuming when I'm the one offering," Bora pointed out. Her tone softened slightly. "Look, I'm treating you to a meal because you did good work on the mission. I know you made mistakes but that’s part of the learning process. After all, your marksmanship saved our asses more than once. Consider it a thank you." 

Yoohyeon blinked, surprised by both the compliment and the casual profanity from her usually strict captain. "Oh." 

"And," Bora continued, "you need to lighten up. Even off-duty, you're wound tighter than a trip wire. It's okay to relax sometimes, Yoohyeon." 

Before Yoohyeon could respond to that, Mr. Choi returned with their drinks—a steaming cup of latte for Bora and a large-sized iced Americano for Yoohyeon. 

"Food will be out in a few minutes," he promised before retreating. 

Yoohyeon took a sip of her iced Americano and couldn't suppress a small sound of pleasure. "This is amazing," she admitted. 

"Told you," Bora said, looking pleased as she cradled her own cup. Without her usual stern expression, she looked younger, more approachable. Her hair, usually pulled back in a tight regulation bun, fell in loose waves around her face. There was a softness to her eyes that Yoohyeon had never noticed before. 

Yoohyeon found herself staring and quickly averted her gaze, focusing on her Iced Americano. "Do you come here often?" she asked, searching for a safe topic. 

"When I can. Minji and I found it about a year ago." Bora took a sip of her coffee. "It's a good place to remember that we're people, not just soldiers." 

"That's... that must be nice," Yoohyeon said, a note of wistfulness creeping into her voice. 

Bora tilted her head. "You don't see yourself as anything but a soldier?" 

Yoohyeon shrugged one shoulder. "It's what I am now. What else would I be?" 

"You were something before you joined up," Bora pointed out. "You had a life, interests. What did you do before?" 

The question was innocent enough, but Yoohyeon felt her chest tighten. She rarely thought about her life before—it was easier that way. "I was a student," she said simply. "Mathematics major." 

Bora's eyebrows rose. "Mathematics major? That's... unexpected." 

"Why? Because I’m better off in a different department than out in the field shooting things, right?” The words came out more bitter than Yoohyeon had intended. 

"No," Bora said calmly. "Because you never mentioned it. Not once in the six months you've been on my team. And no, you are perfect where you are at." 

Yoohyeon dropped her gaze to the table. "It didn’t think it was relevant to share about myself anyway,”  

"Maybe not to the mission objectives," Bora conceded. "But it's relevant to you." She studied Yoohyeon for a moment. "What did you want to do with a mathematics degree?" 

"I don’t know, I was just interested in numbers and thought it would be cool to use them in physics, engineering or data" Yoohyeon admitted quietly. "I was only barely starting out my university days until everything happened. I lost my chance.” 

"Well, it’s never too late," Bora said, her voice unexpectedly gentle. "Maybe when everything’s settled down a bit, you could try heading up to the engineering department and see if they’ve got anything for you.”  

Yoohyeon looked up, surprised. "But I thought you just said I was perfect where I was.”  

"I did, and it is the truth. But I believe your potential is more than just shooting.” Bora replied. "You’re talented and smart. You need to have more faith in yourself.” 

Mr. Choi arrived with their food then—a simple plate of eggs and toast for Bora, and a much more substantial spread for Yoohyeon: fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, golden toast, sliced fruit, and a small bowl of yogurt with honey. 

"Enjoy, ladies," he said with a wink before departing again. 

Yoohyeon stared at her plate, then at Bora's considerably smaller meal. "This is too much. I won’t be able to finish everything." 

"Nonsense! It's exactly what you need," Bora said firmly, already digging into her eggs. "Eat. That's an order." 

Despite her protest, Yoohyeon's stomach growled audibly. With a sheepish smile, she picked up her fork and began to eat. 

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. Yoohyeon kept sneaking glances at Bora, trying to reconcile this relaxed, almost friendly version with the stern captain she was used to. The same woman who had berated her for the many mishaps and mistakes she made during their field missions, who was now smiling softly over her coffee cup, seemingly content to share a meal in silence. 

"You're different," Yoohyeon blurted out, then immediately wished she could take it back. 

Bora arched an eyebrow. "Different how?" 

Yoohyeon hesitated, but there was no going back now. "I don’t know. More peaceful? Calmer? Not the strict, scary Captain Kim that I know?” 

To her surprise, Bora laughed—a genuine, unrestrained sound that transformed her face. "Hey, don’t say that too loudly. I have a reputation to maintain,” She joked, setting down her coffee, “But really it’s just different sides of the same person. On duty, I have to be Captain Kim. I gotta be tough, demanding, focused so I can keep everyone alive. But right now...” She shrugged, relaxing into the chair. “I can just be me. Just Bora.”  

“I think I prefer this version,” Yoohyeon mumbled, then blushed as she realized what she just said. 

Bora's smile softened, “Yeah? Well, appreciate this version of me cause whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me for life.” She reached across the table and stole a piece of bacon from Yoohyeon's plate, popping it into her mouth with a mischievous grin. "At least until you decide to trade your rifle for a stack of books." 

"I don’t think you’d be willing to trade away your favorite sharpshooter.” Yoohyeon countered with a bit more courage this time, wanting to test the waters of her “off-duty” Captain.  

Bora laughed as she nodded, “You already know me, so well.” She checked her watch, “Alright, finish up. There's a bookstore down the street I want to show you. The owner salvages pre-epidemic books from abandoned buildings. Books aren’t my kind of thing but you might find something interesting." 

"A bookstore?! Like not the dull ones in the archives?" Yoohyeon couldn't keep the excitement from her voice.  

"Yup, with real books that smell," Bora confirmed, clearly pleased by Yoohyeon's reaction. "Consider it part two of your reward." 

As Yoohyeon hastily finished her meal, she found herself wondering why Captain Kim—no, why Bora was suddenly being so kind to her. And oddly, she didn’t mind this at all.  

Even though at times, she is still secretly afraid of Bora.

Chapter Text

Sunlight filtered through the blinds of Minji's apartment, casting long golden strips across the kitchen table. Seoul might be lost to the zombies, but here in Busan, in this small pocket of safety, life continued. It had been almost a week since they'd returned from the mission. 

Minji stirred a spoonful of sugar into her coffee, watching Siyeon across the table. The younger woman was carefully arranging scrambled eggs on a small plate beside her own breakfast. 

"Is that enough for WekWek?" Minji asked, hiding her smile behind her mug. 

"He's not very hungry in the mornings," Siyeon said matter-of-factly, placing the teddy bear upright in the chair beside her.  

WekWek had been her only companion for two years. Minji understood why Siyeon couldn't simply let go. 

"Good morning, WekWek," Siyeon said cheerfully, adjusting the bear's position. "The weather is nice today, isn't it?" 

Minji smiled, turning her attention to the television mounted on the wall. The news played at low volume—reports about reconstruction efforts in Daegu, scientific progress on the zombie virus, water rationing to be reduced in the southern provinces. Signs of a world slowly healing. 

"Minji?" Siyeon's voice pulled her back. 

"Hmm?" 

"What do you think I'll get on the placement test?" Siyeon pushed her eggs around her plate. "I've been told there’s nothing to study because it’s more of a personality test, so I really have no idea.” 

Minji considered the question. The government had instituted the placement system to efficiently allocate survivors to necessary roles. Everyone had to take the exam, or register for the military. Minji had obviously chosen the latter.  

"I think you'd make an excellent kindergarten teacher," Minji said, reaching across to squeeze Siyeon's hand. 

Siyeon's eyes widened. "Really? Me?" 

"You're creative and have an amazing imagination." Minji nodded toward WekWek. "Plus, you're good at talking to those who don't always talk back." 

Something flickered across Siyeon's face, and her gaze dropped to her plate.  

"Doctor Kang says I should stop talking to WekWek." 

Minji's heart sank. Doctor Kang had evaluated Siyeon's mental state after rescue and she were to attend bi-weekly therapy sessions, though Minji had seen how these had drained her. 

"What else did she say?" Minji asked carefully. 

Siyeon's fingers nervously played with the edge of her plate. "That it's not healthy. That I'm using WekWek as a crutch and it's preventing me from... what did she call it? 'Fully reintegrating into social structures.'" She mimicked the doctor's clinical tone. 

Minji set her coffee down and moved to the chair beside Siyeon, close enough that their shoulders touched. 

"Listen to me," she said firmly. "There is nothing wrong with you." 

"But—" 

"No. After everything you went through—surviving alone for two years, keeping yourself safe and sane—you did what you had to do." Minji tucked a strand of hair behind Siyeon's ear. "If talking to WekWek helped you survive, then he deserves a medal, not judgment." 

A small smile tugged at Siyeon's lips. "You don't think I'm crazy?" 

"I think you're the strongest person I've ever met." Minji's voice softened. "And time is all you need. The world changed overnight for everyone, but you've been frozen in place for two years. It's okay if you need WekWek to help you catch up." 

Siyeon leaned her head against Minji's shoulder. "Thank you for always understanding me." 

They sat like that for a moment, the news continuing to murmur in the background. Minji's three-room apartment had felt too big and empty before Siyeon. Now, even the silence felt comfortable. 

"I have to tell you something," Minji said eventually. "The week-break ends tommorow. I'll have to report back for field duty." 

Siyeon stiffened against her. "How long will you be gone?" 

"Standard rotation is two weeks, but it depends on the mission." Minji turned to face her. "I'll do everything I can to make it back sooner." 

"What if..." Siyeon's voice was small. "What if something happens to you?" 

"Hey," Minji took Siyeon's hands in hers. "Nothing is going to happen to me. I've got the best team—Bora and Yoohyeon have my back. And now I have even more reason to come home safe." 

Siyeon nodded, with a softened smile. 

"Besides," Minji continued, trying to lighten the mood, "someone needs to look after this place while I'm gone. These three rooms is a lot to maintain." 

"I can do that," Siyeon said, her voice growing more determined. "I kept my apartment zombie-free for two years. I think I can handle some dusting and laundry." 

Minji laughed. "I have complete faith in your zombie-fighting and housekeeping abilities." 

Siyeon's expression grew serious. "I promise, Minji. I'll take care of everything until you come back." She hesitated, then added, "We both will, right WekWek?" 

Minji glanced at the threadbare teddy bear and nodded solemnly. "I'm counting on both of you." 

-- 

The familiar weight of her uniform felt both comforting and restrictive as Minji adjusted her collar in the hallway outside the briefing room. A week of domesticity with Siyeon had softened her edges, but the military base's stark corridors and the rhythmic sound of boots against polished floors quickly pulled her back into her soldier mindset. 

"Lieutenant!" Bora's voice echoed down the hallway. She approached with her usual confident stride, her uniform pressed to perfection. "Ready to get back in the field?" 

Minji nodded, forcing her thoughts of Siyeon to the back of her mind. "More than ready. How was your leave?" 

"Oh, the same usual" Bora said with a dismissive wave. "Gym during the day, bar at night. But you're the one who had an interesting break, playing house with our favorite Seoul survivor." 

Before Minji could respond, Private Yoohyeon rounded the corner, slightly out of breath. Her rifle was slung awkwardly over one shoulder, and she was still adjusting her uniform jacket. 

"Sorry I'm late, Captain, Lieutenant," she said, her cheeks flushed. "The transport from the eastern barracks was delayed." 

Minji expected Bora's usual sharp reprimand, but instead, the Captain merely reached out and straightened Yoohyeon's collar. 

"Just don't make it a habit, Private," Bora said, her tone firm but lacking its usual edge. "You've got two minutes to compose yourself before we meet with the Colonel." 

Yoohyeon's eyes widened slightly at the gentler treatment, but she nodded quickly. "Yes, Captain." 

Minji caught the faint smile that passed between them and raised an eyebrow at Bora, who pointedly ignored her questioning look. 

"They're waiting for us," Bora said, gesturing toward the briefing room door. 

-- 

Colonel Kang stood at the head of the table, his weathered face grim as they entered. Digital maps of Seoul covered the screens behind him, with areas marked in red, yellow, and the rare patches of green. Major Lee stood beside him, tablet in hand, her expression equally serious. 

"Lieutenant Kim, Captain Kim, Private Kim," Colonel Kang nodded as they took their seats. The coincidence of their shared surname had been a running joke in the unit, though never in the Colonel's presence. "Welcome back to active duty." 

"Thank you, sir," they responded in unison. 

"I'll get straight to the point," the Colonel continued, gesturing to Major Lee, who tapped her tablet. The main screen changed to show aerial photographs of a high-rise apartment complex in Jamsil. "Yesterday, one of our scout helicopters reported movement in this building during a routine surveillance flight." 

Major Lee stepped forward. "The pilots observed two individuals signaling from a balcony on the twenty-third floor. Weather conditions and fuel limitations prevented immediate extraction, but they were able to capture these images." 

He swiped his tablet, and the screen changed to show two blurry photographs. Minji leaned forward. A young woman and a teenage girl, stood on a balcony waving frantically at the camera. One held what appeared to be a homemade sign with "HELP" written in large letters. 

"Our analysts estimate they're sisters, approximately 20 and 17 years old," Major Lee continued. "The apartment appears to be fortified similar to what Lieutenant Kim reported finding with the previous survivor." 

Minji's thoughts flashed briefly to Siyeon and her ingenious fortifications. "Have there been any zombie sightings in that building, sir?" 

"Limited activity on the lower floors," Colonel Kang replied. "But the higher levels appear relatively clear. The building's security features likely kept most infected out. That said, Jamsil is still a Class 3 infection zone." 

He turned back to the maps, highlighting their route. "Your mission is straightforward: extract the two survivors and transport them to Namsan Tower, where a helicopter will be waiting for evacuation." 

Major Lee tapped his tablet again, and the map zoomed out to show a wider view of Seoul, with Namsan Tower highlighted. 

"This operation is part of a larger initiative," she explained. "We're reclaiming Namsan Tower as a forward operating base for future Seoul recovery operations. Three other teams will be securing the tower and establishing the landing zone while you conduct your extraction." 

Colonel Kang's expression remained grave. "This means you won't be alone in the city this time, but it also means the timeline is critical. The extraction helicopter will depart from Namsan Tower at 1800 hours, with or without you. That gives you approximately ten hours from insertion to complete your mission." 

He looked each of them in the eye. "Any questions?" 

Minji glanced at Bora and Yoohyeon, but all three remained silent. 

"Very well. Major Lee will provide the detailed operation files. You deploy at 0600 hours tomorrow. Dismissed." 

-- 

The armory hummed with activity as they prepared their gear. Minji checked her rifle methodically, muscle memory taking over as she inspected each component. Across the room, Yoohyeon was carefully organizing additional ammunition into her tactical vest.  

"Make sure you pack extra batteries for the night vision," Bora instructed, handing Yoohyeon an additional set. "Jamsil's high-rises block most of the natural light in the streets, even during daytime." 

"Yes, Captain." Yoohyeon took the batteries, her fingers briefly brushing against Bora's. Neither pulled away immediately, and Minji pretended not to notice the lingering contact. 

"You've been drilling her well," Minji commented once Yoohyeon moved to the other side of the armory. 

Bora snorted. "She's a quick learner when she's not overthinking everything." 

"And when her captain isn't breathing down her neck," Minji added with a knowing smile. 

"I have no idea what you're implying, Lieutenant," Bora said, but the slight color in her cheeks told a different story. 

Minji checked her watch. Time to focus on the mission. She moved to the center of the room. 

"Gather round," she called. Bora and Yoohyeon joined her at the planning table, where maps of Jamsil and Namsan Tower were spread out. 

Lieutenant Kim had returned, replacing the softer Minji who had shared breakfast with Siyeon that morning. Her voice was clear and authoritative as she outlined their approach. 

"We'll be dropped here, two blocks from the target building," she said, pointing to their insertion point. "Standard formation: I'll take point, Captain Kim on right flank, Private Kim covering our six. We move fast, stay quiet, and avoid engagement when possible." 

She traced their planned route through the streets. "Once we reach the building, we'll need to clear our way up. Stairs only—rappels are death traps in zombie territory." 

"Twenty-three floors," Yoohyeon murmured. "That's going to be a workout." 

"Consider it training, Private," Bora said, but her tone lacked its usual sharpness. "Besides, gravity will help on the way down." 

Minji continued, "Once we secure the survivors, we head straight to Namsan Tower via this route." She traced the path with her finger. "Six kilometers, mostly through narrow streets. We'll need to move quickly." 

She looked up at her team. Bora's expression was determined, focused. Yoohyeon looked nervous but resolute. 

"Any questions?" Minji asked. 

"What's our protocol if the survivors are infected?" Bora asked, always the pragmatist. 

Minji's jaw tightened. "Standard procedure. We verify status before extraction. If they show any symptoms, we report and await further orders." 

"And if they're clear?" Yoohyeon asked. 

"Then we bring them home," Minji said simply. 

The three women looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. This was a chance to save two more lives from the ruins of Seoul, just as they had saved Siyeon. 

"Get some rest," Minji said finally. "We move out at dawn." 

-- 

The helicopter blades chopped through the morning air as they approached Jamsil. Through the open door, Minji could see Seoul spread below them—once a gleaming metropolis, now a graveyard of abandoned skyscrapers and empty streets. Nature had begun reclaiming parts of the city; vines crawled up building facades, and small trees sprouted through cracked pavement. 

"Two minutes to drop point," the pilot's voice crackled through their headsets. 

Minji checked her gear one final time, then glanced at her team. Bora looked focused, her expression unreadable as she surveyed the landscape below. Beside her, Yoohyeon gripped her rifle tightly, her knuckles white. 

"Remember," Minji said over the roar of the rotors, "quick and quiet. We get in, secure the civilians, and move to extraction." 

The helicopter banked sharply, hovering two blocks from their target building—a tall residential tower still relatively intact compared to its neighbors. As they descended toward a clearing, movement in the surrounding streets caught Minji's attention. Dark figures shambled toward the sound of the helicopter, drawn by the noise. 

"We've got company," Bora called, unclipping a grenade from her vest. 

The moment the helicopter touched down, they were moving. Minji leapt out first, rifle raised, scanning for immediate threats. Bora and Yoohyeon flanked her, their boots hitting the concrete in near-perfect synchronization. 

"Go! Go! Go!" The pilot's voice urged through their comms as the helicopter immediately began to lift off. 

Bora pulled the pin on her grenade and hurled it in a high arc toward an abandoned parking lot several hundred meters away. The explosion echoed through the empty streets seconds later, and as planned, the shambling figures changed direction, drawn to the new sound. 

"This way," Minji commanded, leading them toward a narrow alley between two commercial buildings. They moved swiftly in formation, boots barely making a sound on the debris-strewn pavement. Years of training and field experience had taught them how to be ghosts in this urban wasteland. 

The alley opened onto a wider street, offering a clear view of their target building. Minji raised her fist, signaling them to halt at the corner. Across the street, a cluster of infected milled aimlessly around the entrance to the apartment complex. 

"Eight at the main entrance," Yoohyeon whispered, her sharp eyes missing nothing. "Three more by the parking garage." 

Minji considered their options. "We need an alternate entry point." 

Bora pointed to a shattered window on the building's ground floor. "Service entrance. Should connect to the main lobby." 

They waited for a gap in the zombies' meandering patterns, then darted across the street in single file. Minji reached the broken window first, quickly clearing the jagged glass with the butt of her rifle before slipping through. Bora followed, with Yoohyeon close behind. 

The service corridor was dark and musty, but blessedly empty. Flashlights cut through the gloom as they moved deeper into the building. 

"Stairwell should be ahead to the right," Bora murmured, consulting the building schematics they'd studied. 

A muffled groan froze them in place. Minji signaled for them to hold position as she edged forward, peering around the corner. A lone infected in what remained of a security uniform stood swaying in the hallway, its back to them. 

Minji holstered her gun and drew her combat knife. No sound, no wasted ammunition. She approached silently from behind, years of practice guiding her movements. One swift motion and the infected dropped, the knife piercing precisely through the base of its skull. 

"Clear," she whispered, wiping the blade on the corpse's uniform before resheathing it. 

They encountered two more stragglers before reaching the stairwell—a former maintenance worker dispatched by Bora's knife and what had once been an elderly resident, now handled efficiently by Yoohyeon. 

The stairwell door creaked as Minji pushed it open, the sound echoing ominously in the confined space. They paused, listening for any reaction, but only silence followed. 

"Twenty-three floors," Bora muttered, looking up the seemingly endless spiral of stairs. "Let's move." 

The climb was grueling. They maintained a steady pace, pausing only to clear occasional threats—a zombie trapped in a section of collapsed stairs on the seventh floor, two more feeding on unidentifiable remains on the twelfth. By the seventeenth floor, their breathing had grown labored, muscles burning from the relentless ascent. 

Yoohyeon began to lag behind, her steps growing slower despite her obvious effort to keep up. Minji glanced back, expecting Bora's usual sharp command to hurry, but instead watched as the Captain slowed her own pace, falling back beside the struggling Private. 

"Steady breaths," Bora instructed quietly. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. Focus on each step, not how many are left." 

Yoohyeon nodded gratefully, adjusting her breathing. "Thanks, Captain." 

Minji suppressed a smile and continued upward. The dynamic between those two had certainly shifted since their last mission. 

As they approached the twenty-third floor, Minji's instincts suddenly flared. She halted abruptly, raising her fist in a warning signal. Something wasn't right. 

"What is it?" Bora whispered, coming up beside her. 

Minji pointed to the landing just ahead. At first glance, it appeared normal—just another dusty, debris-littered floor landing. But Minji's experienced eyes caught the subtle abnormalities: the too-even distribution of the dust, the almost imperceptible glint of wire at ankle height. 

"Trap," she said softly. "And a sophisticated one." 

Upon closer inspection, they could see it now: a complex arrangement of tripwires connected to what appeared to be homemade explosives and several sharpened metal spikes positioned at head and chest height. It would have been lethal if triggered. 

"These survivors certainly don't want visitors," Bora commented, examining the setup without touching anything. 

Yoohyeon finally reached them, still catching her breath from the climb. "What's the hold up?" 

"Booby trap," Minji replied, gesturing to the deadly arrangement. "Can you disarm it?" 

Yoohyeon's expertise in demolitions and trap-setting had been an unexpected bonus when she joined their unit. She was a fast learner in her training and excelled in many areas. In fact, it was the Colonel's suggestion for her to take up a short crash course on demolitions, proving an important asset to the team. 

"Give me a minute," Yoohyeon said, already slipping off her pack to retrieve her toolkit. She knelt before the trap, eyes narrowed in concentration as she studied the mechanism. 

While Yoohyeon worked, Bora moved closer to Minji. "Think these two will be like your girlfriend?" she asked in a low voice. "All quirky and talking to teddy bears?" 

"Siyeon's not my—" Minji stopped herself, unwilling to rise to Bora's bait. "I doubt it. These two have each other. Isolation affects people differently when they're alone." 

"So..." Bora continued, a hint of mischief in her tired eyes. "Do you miss her? Your not-girlfriend?" 

Minji's expression hardened. "Captain, focus on the mission." 

Bora smirked but said nothing more, recognizing she'd hit a nerve. 

After several tense minutes, Yoohyeon carefully snipped a final wire. "Done," she announced, sitting back on her heels. "Quite inventive, actually. These aren't military-grade materials—just household items repurposed very effectively." 

"Good work, Private," Minji said, helping Yoohyeon to her feet. 

They moved past the disarmed trap and continued along the corridor. The twenty-third floor was eerily silent, the thick carpet muffling their footsteps. According to their intel, the sisters were holed up in apartment 2307, at the far end of the hall. 

Doors on either side stood closed, some with faded warning signs or personal messages scrawled across them. Evidence of the panic that had ensued when the infection first spread. Minji couldn't help but wonder about the stories behind each door, the lives interrupted when Seoul fell. 

They approached apartment 2307 with weapons ready, uncertain what reception awaited them. After everything they'd seen, they knew better than to expect gratitude. 

Minji positioned herself in front of the door, with Bora and Yoohyeon flanking her, and raised her hand to knock, but before her knuckles could touch the door, a metallic click froze her in place. The door cracked open, revealing the barrel of a mechanical gun pointed directly at her face. 

"Don't move," a steady female voice commanded from behind the weapon. "State your business." 

Minji kept her hands visible, signaling Bora and Yoohyeon to do the same. "We're with the military rescue unit. We saw your distress signal from the helicopter yesterday." 

The door opened wider, revealing a young woman with sharp eyes and a wary expression. Her hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail, and her clothes were worn but clean. The gun in her hands—a remarkable piece of engineering cobbled together from household items—remained trained on Minji's chest. 

"We tried to call for help but the helicopter went away," she said, her voice steady despite the tension. "So why are you coming to rescue us now?" 

"Weather conditions and fuel limitations," Minji explained, keeping her voice level. "We couldn't land yesterday, but we came back as soon as we could." She slowly lowered one hand to her badge. "I'm Lieutenant Minji, she’s Captain Bora and that’s Private Yoohyeon." 

The young woman's eyes flickered between them, taking in their uniforms and weapons. Behind her, partially hidden, stood a younger girl. Unlike her sister, who projected confidence despite the tension, the younger one watched them with silent wariness, her expression giving nothing away. 

Bora leaned slightly to get a better look at the younger sister. "We're here to help," she said, her voice gentler than usual. "We can take you somewhere safe." 

The older sister glanced back at the younger one, some unspoken communication passing between them. When she turned back to the soldiers, her posture had shifted subtly. 

"The name’s Dami," she said, lowering her weapon slightly. "And this is my sister, Gahyun." She paused, then added, "You can do your checks. We're not infected." 

She stepped aside, allowing them entry. "Gahyun, it's okay. Let them do their job." 

The younger sister nodded but remained silent, backing away to give them space. 

The apartment that greeted them was a marvel of post-apocalyptic innovation. Solar panels were positioned by the windows, connected to a small battery system. Tripwires and pressure sensors were strategically placed near entry points. The furniture had been rearranged to create defensive positions, and the walls were lined with diagrams and notes. 

"Standard protocol," Minji explained, removing a small device from her pack. "We need to check your vitals and run a quick blood test." 

Dami nodded and rolled up her sleeve. "Do what you need to do. We've been monitoring ourselves. No fever, no symptoms, no encounters with the infected for over six months." 

While Minji checked Dami, Bora approached Gahyun. "This won't hurt," she promised, showing the girl the testing equipment. Gahyun didn't flinch as Bora took her vitals and blood sample, but she didn't speak either, her eyes constantly darting between the soldiers and her sister. 

Meanwhile, Yoohyeon wandered through the apartment, examining their setup with professional interest. A section of the living room had been converted into a miniature hydroponic farm, with lettuce and tomatoes growing under artificial lights. 

"This is incredible," Yoohyeon murmured, reaching out to touch one of the plants. 

"Don't touch that," Dami called sharply from across the room. "The nutrient balance is precise." 

Yoohyeon jumped back, startled. "Sorry! I wasn't going to damage anything. I'm just impressed." 

"It took us months to get it right," Dami said, her tone softening slightly. "One contamination could ruin the whole system." 

Yoohyeon nodded, studying Dami with newfound respect. They looked to be about the same age, but there was a hardness to Dami, a weight of responsibility that Yoohyeon recognized from her own reflection. 

"All clear," Minji announced, checking the results of Dami's test. Bora nodded confirmation for Gahyu's results as well. 

"Here's our extraction plan," Minji continued, pulling out a small map. "We have a helicopter waiting at Namsan Tower. It's about six kilometers from here. We need to move quickly and quietly, avoid engagement where possible, and reach the tower by 6pm.” 

Dami examined the map with a tactical eye that impressed even Bora. "These streets are heavily congested with abandoned vehicles," she pointed out. "And this section had structural damage last time we scouted it." 

"You've been outside?" Yoohyeon asked, surprised. 

"Limited reconnaissance," Dami confirmed. "We needed supplies." 

Minji nodded, adjusting the route based on Dami's information. "We'll detour through here, then." 

"We need some time to pack," Dami said, glancing around the apartment. "This has been our home for two years." 

Minji checked her watch. "We can spare twenty minutes. Pack only essentials—food, medicine, personal items. Anything that might slow us down stays behind." 

Dami nodded and turned to her sister. "Gahyun, get the emergency bags. Add the seed packets and the portable purifier." 

Gahyun nodded and moved immediately to comply, still without speaking a word. The soldiers exchanged glances, noting her silence. 

As the sisters gathered their belongings, the team spread out to help and observe. Minji assisted Dami with sorting through a collection of notebooks filled with diagrams and calculations. Bora helped Gahyun pack clothing and personal items, trying without success to engage the quiet girl in conversation. Yoohyeon carefully disconnected the small solar battery, following Dami's precise instructions. 

"Your sister doesn't talk much," Minji commented quietly to Dami as they worked. 

Dami's expression remained neutral. "She talks when she has something to say." 

There was a finality to her tone that discouraged further questions. 

As they packed, Minji couldn't help comparing the sisters to Siyeon. Where Siyeon had coped with isolation through imagination and conversation with inanimate objects, these two had clearly relied on each other and cold practicality. Different survival mechanisms for the same apocalyptic reality. 

"Five minutes," Bora announced, checking her watch. 

Dami nodded and zipped up her backpack. "We're ready." 

Gahyun appeared beside her sister, a small pack on her shoulders and a notebook clutched to her chest. She looked to Dami for confirmation, and once again, some silent communication passed between them. 

"Remember the plan," Minji said, checking her weapon. "I take point, Captain Kim on right flank, Private Kim covering our six. Dami and Gahyun, you stay between us. Move when we move, stop when we stop. No noise, no unnecessary risks." 

Dami nodded, her expression solemn. "We understand." 

As they prepared to leave, Minji noticed Gahyun take one last look around the apartment, her expression momentarily softening as she touched a small plant by the window. Dami placed a gentle hand on her sister's shoulder. 

"We'll have a new home soon," she said, the first hint of tenderness in her voice. 

Gahyun nodded, and together, they turned to follow the soldiers out the door, leaving behind the fortress that had kept them alive for two years. 

The journey back to Namsan Tower would be dangerous—six kilometers through zombie-infested territory with two civilians in tow. But as Minji led them toward the stairwell, she felt a strange confidence. These sisters weren't helpless civilians; they were survivors, just like Siyeon. 

And survivors knew how to stay alive. 

Chapter Text

The descent was faster than the climb, but no less treacherous. Minji led the team down the emergency stairwell, each footstep carefully placed to minimize noise. Behind her, Dami and Gahyun moved with surprising efficiency, their movements synchronized and purposeful. Bora followed close behind the sisters, with Yoohyeon covering their rear.  

"Hold," Minji whispered, raising her fist as they reached the tenth-floor landing.  

A shuffling sound echoed from below, followed by the distinctive moans of the infected. She peered over the railing, counting at least five zombies wandering aimlessly on the landing four floors down.  

"Blockage at the sixth floor," she reported quietly. "Five infected, possibly more in the blind spots."  

Dami moved beside her, glancing down to assess the situation. Without speaking, she reached into her pack and produced what appeared to be a homemade smoke bomb. She caught Minji's questioning look and nodded confidently.  

"Sound diversion," she explained in a hushed tone. "It'll draw them to the fourth floor, away from our exit path. And the smoke will mask our scent."  

Minji hesitated, then nodded. It wasn't standard protocol, but standard protocols rarely survived contact with reality in Seoul.  

Dami looked at her sister, who immediately produced a small lighter. The wordless communication between them was almost eerie in its efficiency. Dami ignited the device, waited three seconds, then dropped it down the stairwell center. It clattered noisily against the steps before coming to rest two floors below.  

The reaction was immediate. Thick, grayish smoke billowed upward as the zombies below groaned in unison, shambling toward the noise. The sound of their uneven footsteps faded as they descended.  

"Smart," Bora whispered, genuine approval in her voice.  

Gahyun's lips curved into the barest hint of a smile—the first expression they'd seen on her face.  

They continued downward, moving swiftly through the dissipating smoke. When they reached the ground floor, Minji raised her hand again, signaling them to stop while she checked the lobby.  

"Four by the main entrance," she reported after a careful survey. "We'll use the service exit we came in through."  

The group moved silently across the lobby, hugging the wall. As they neared the service corridor, a solitary zombie in tattered business attire stumbled from a side hallway, directly into their path.  

Before Minji could react, Gahyun—the silent, seemingly timid younger sister—moved with startling speed. In one fluid motion, she withdrew a thin metal rod from her sleeve and drove it through the zombie's eye socket. The infected dropped without a sound, and Gahyun extracted her weapon with practiced efficiency, wiping it clean on her pant leg.  

Minji exchanged a shocked glance with Bora. The quiet girl had moved with the precision of a trained operative.  

Dami simply nodded at her sister, as if this was perfectly routine.  

"Let's move," Minji whispered, newfound respect in her voice.  

They slipped through the service entrance and back into the street, immediately taking cover behind an abandoned delivery truck. The sun had climbed higher, casting harsh light across the debris-strewn pavement.   

In the distance, Namsan Tower rose above the city skyline—their destination, still kilometers away.  

"We follow this route," Minji indicated on her map, tracing a path that would take them through side streets and alleyways. "Keep formation tight. If we get separated, head for the tower."  

Dami studied the map and pointed to an alternative path. "This construction site has an underground parking level that connects to the subway tunnels. It's dark, but relatively clear."  

"How do you know that?" Yoohyeon asked.  

"We mapped the safe routes," Dami replied matter-of-factly. "Gahyun has a photographic memory. She remembers everything we've scouted."  

Minji considered the suggestion. Tunnels meant limited escape routes if things went wrong, but also fewer encounters with the infected who preferred to wander in the open.  

"We'll try your route," she decided. "Lead the way."  

The construction site loomed ahead, a half-finished office tower surrounded by rusted equipment and toppled scaffolding. They moved in single file through a gap in the chain-link fence, weapons ready.  

"Entrance is there," Dami pointed toward a concrete ramp leading below ground. "The connecting door to the subway tunnels was forced open months ago."  

As they approached the ramp, a harsh growl echoed from their left. A zombie in construction worker gear lunged from behind a cement mixer, followed by three more emerging from various hiding spots.  

"Contact!" Bora shouted, raising her rifle.  

Before she could fire, Dami and Gahyun moved in perfect synchronization.   

The older sister dropped to one knee, creating a stable platform, while Gahyun used her as a springboard, launching herself into the air. The younger girl somersaulted over the first infected, slashing through its neck with her metal rod as she passed overhead.  

Dami, meanwhile, had drawn twin combat knives from her boots and dispatched two of the remaining zombies with brutal efficiency—one knife through an eye socket, the other severing the brain stem at the base of the skull.  

Yoohyeon took down the fourth with a precise headshot, but her eyes remained fixed on the sisters, who had already resumed their defensive positions, barely breathing hard.  

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Bora asked, unable to hide her astonishment.  

Dami wiped her blades clean. "When you’re left stranded in a middle of a zombie outbreak, human instincts kind of kick in”. She shrugged as if this explained everything. "You have to do whatever you can to survive out here.”   

Minji remembered what Dami had mentioned earlier about needing supplies. Their "limited reconnaissance" clearly involved more than just scouting.  

"Into the tunnels," The lieutenant ordered, processing this new information.   

These sisters weren't just survivors; they were hunters.  

The underground parking level was eerily silent, their flashlights cutting through the gloom to reveal abandoned vehicles covered in a thick layer of dust. Footprints in that dust told a story—some human, some clearly not—creating intersecting paths throughout the space.  

"This way," Dami whispered, guiding them toward a maintenance door that had been forced open, its lock mechanisms shattered.  

Beyond lay the subway tunnels—dark, musty corridors once filled with commuters, now home to rats and worse things. Their footsteps echoed despite their best efforts at silence.  

"Three kilometers through these tunnels, then we surface near Myeongdong," Dami explained. "From there, it's a straight shot to Namsan."  

They moved swiftly through the darkness, flashlights sweeping ahead. Occasionally, they passed abandoned subway cars, their windows shattered, interiors stripped bare by scavengers.  

Yoohyeon moved closer to Gahyun, curiosity overcoming her usual caution. "How long have you been fighting like that?" she asked in a hushed voice.  

Gahyun's eyes flicked toward her, then back to the tunnel ahead. For a moment, Yoohyeon thought she wouldn't answer. Then, in a voice so soft it was barely audible.   

"Four hundred and eighty-three days."  

Yoohyeon blinked, surprised both by the precise count and by the fact that the girl had spoken at all.  

"That's... specific," she commented.  

"Gahyun counts everything," Dami explained from ahead. "Days, kills, supplies. It helps her process."  

A distant shuffling sound caused them all to freeze. Minji raised her hand, signaling for silence as she strained to listen. The sound grew louder—multiple sets of feet dragging against concrete, approaching from a branching tunnel ahead.  

"Ambush position," she whispered urgently.  

They quickly took cover behind a derailed subway car. Minji and Bora positioned themselves at the front edges with clear firing lines, while Yoohyeon covered the rear in case of flanking. To their surprise, the sisters didn't huddle in the center as instructed but instead climbed nimbly atop the subway car, taking up overwatch positions.  

The shuffling grew louder.   

Flashlights off, they waited in near-total darkness as a pack of infected emerged from the branching tunnel—twelve, maybe fifteen of them, moving as a cohesive group. This was unusual; the infected typically wandered alone or in small clusters unless drawn together by noise.  

Minji calculated their options. Even with suppressed weapons, gunfire would echo in these tunnels, potentially drawing more infected. But hand-to-hand against this many was suicide.  

Above them, Dami made a soft clicking sound with her tongue. Gahyun responded with the same signal.   

Before Minji could stop them, the sisters were in motion.  

From her elevated position, Dami lobbed another of her homemade devices—this one landing far behind the zombie pack. When it detonated, it emitted a high-pitched electronic whine that immediately drew the infected away from their position.  

"Now," Dami whispered, sliding down from the subway car. "While they're distracted."  

Minji signaled her agreement, and they moved quickly past the branching tunnel, continuing their journey through the main passage. Behind them, the electronic whine continued for nearly a minute before falling silent.  

"How many of those do you have?" Bora asked, impressed despite herself.  

"That was the last one," Dami admitted. "We've been saving them for an emergency."  

They pressed onward, the tunnel gradually sloping upward as they approached their exit point. Light filtered through a grate above, indicating they were nearing the surface.  

"Myeongdong station, east exit," Dami confirmed, pointing to a maintenance ladder leading up to a service hatch.  

Minji went first, carefully pushing open the hatch to survey their surroundings. They emerged in a narrow alley behind what had once been a popular shopping district. The streets were cluttered with abandoned luxury goods, looted store fronts, and the occasional infected wandering aimlessly among mannequins that eerily resembled them.  

"Namsan Tower is visible now," Minji said, pointing to the structure rising above the buildings ahead. "Two kilometers, mostly uphill. We stick to cover, move quickly, and avoid engagement."  

They adjusted their formation for the narrower streets, with Minji still on point but Dami now directly behind her, offering guidance through the commercial maze of Myeongdong. Gahyun kept pace with Yoohyeon, while Bora brought up the rear.  

Their progress was steady but cautious, ducking from storefront to storefront, using abandoned vehicles as cover. The city grew quieter as they began the ascent toward Namsan, the infected less numerous at higher elevations.  

As they rounded a corner onto a tree-lined path that wound up the mountainside, Minji's radio crackled to life.  

"Team Alpha, this is Namsan Base. Do you copy? Over." The voice was barely audible through the static.  

Minji pressed her comm unit. "Namsan Base, this is Alpha Leader. We copy. Five personnel en route to extraction point. ETA thirty minutes. Over."  

"Alpha Leader, be advised. We detect increased activity in your sector. Other teams report large group movements toward the tower. Proceed with extreme caution. Over."  

Minji frowned. Large group movements weren't random; something was drawing the infected toward their extraction point.  

"Copy that, Namsan Base. Will advise on arrival. Alpha Leader out."  

She turned to the others. "Change of plans. We need to move faster, but noise discipline is no longer the priority. Something's stirred up the infected, and they're heading the same place we are."  

They increased their pace, jogging up the winding path. The trees provided good cover but limited visibility, and Minji felt the familiar tension building between her shoulder blades. Her instincts proved to be correct as they emerged into a small clearing, where up ahead blocking their path, stood a group of at least twenty infected.  

"What the hell?" Bora muttered. "They're... coordinating."  

It was true. The infected had spread out across the path, effectively cutting off their route forward.   

"I've seen this before," Dami said quietly. "The latest mutation. They retain basic problem-solving abilities and work together.”   

"You could have mentioned this earlier," Bora hissed.  

"We thought they were isolated cases," Dami replied, eyes never leaving the threat ahead. "Clearly, we were wrong."  

Minji assessed their options. Backtracking would cost precious time they didn't have. Fighting through wasn't ideal but might be their only choice.  

"Alternative route?" she asked Dami.  

The older sister glanced at Gahyun, who closed her eyes briefly, as if accessing an internal map.  

"Maintenance trail, fifty meters back, branches east," Gahyun said softly. "Steeper climb, intersects with the main path three hundred meters up."  

"That's our play," Minji decided. "Slow retreat, no sudden movements."  

They began backing away carefully, but one of the infected—a former businessman in a tattered suit—tilted its head and made a guttural sound. The others responded immediately, surging forward.  

"Run!" Minji commanded, abandoning stealth for speed.  

They sprinted back down the path, the pack of zombies in close pursuit. Unlike normal infected, these didn't tire or lose interest—they maintained their chase with unsettling determination.  

"There!" Yoohyeon pointed to a narrow trail branching off between the trees.  

They veered onto it, immediately confronted by a steep, rough climb up rocky terrain. The path was barely wide enough for one person, forcing them into single file as they scrambled upward.  

Behind them, the infected hesitated at the trail entrance, seemingly confused by the difficult terrain. But their confusion was brief; they began climbing, their movements awkward but effective.  

"Keep moving!" Minji urged as Yoohyeon stumbled on the uneven ground. Bora grabbed the private's arm, steadying her without breaking stride.  

The trail grew steeper, transforming into an almost vertical rock face for a short section. Minji went first, finding handholds and pulling herself up. She reached back to help the others, but Dami and Gahyun were already scaling the rock with practiced ease.   

When they reached Yoohyeon, however, the private struggled. The weight of her pack and weapon made the climb nearly impossible.  

"I can't—" she began, panic edging into her voice as she glanced back at the approaching infected.  

"Yes, you can," Bora said firmly, placing her hands on Yoohyeon's waist and boosting her upward. "Reach for the Lieutenant's hand."  

Minji stretched down, grasping Yoohyeon's wrist and pulling her up the final distance. Bora followed, using her upper body strength to propel herself up just as the first of the infected reached the rock face.  

They continued climbing, the path growing less steep as they approached the main trail. Below them, the infected struggled with the vertical section, but several were already finding alternative routes around it.  

"There's the intersection," Dami pointed ahead where their narrow path merged with the wider main trail leading to Namsan Tower.  

As they reached it, Minji's radio crackled again. "Alpha Team, be advised. Extraction in fifteen minutes. We cannot delay. Repeat, extraction in fifteen minutes."  

"Copy that," Minji responded breathlessly. "We're on the final approach."  

The tower was visible ahead through the trees, its base now surrounded by a hastily constructed military perimeter. Soldiers manned fortified positions, weapons trained outward. A helicopter sat on a cleared landing pad, rotors idle but ready.  

"There's our ride," Minji said. "Five hundred meters. Sprint finish."  

They ran the final stretch, legs burning from the steep ascent. Behind them, the sounds of pursuit continued, but they had gained valuable distance.  

As they approached the perimeter, soldiers spotted them.  

"Friendlies coming in!" one shouted. "Cover team, suppress the south approach!"  

A line of soldiers immediately opened fire past them, cutting down the pursuing infected that had emerged from the tree line. The gunfire was deafening after hours of enforced quiet.  

"Lieutenant Kim, Alpha Team plus two civilians!" Minji called as they reached the barricade.  

"Get them to the chopper!" a sergeant responded, waving them through.  

They sprinted across the compound toward the waiting helicopter. Its rotors had begun to spin, creating a disorienting vortex of dust and debris.  

"Go, go, go!" the crew chief shouted from the open door, waving them in.  

Dami and Gahyun boarded first, followed by Yoohyeon. Bora paused at the door, providing covering fire as Minji made the final dash.  

"Taking off now!" the pilot yelled. "Everyone in!"  

Bora pulled Minji into the helicopter as it began to lift off. Below them, soldiers managed to fight back the horde as gunfire continued to ensue.    

As the helicopter gained altitude, they watched Namsan Tower shrink below them, the battle continuing around its base. It appears the vision of establishing Namsan Tower again as headquarters was beginning to look optimistic.   

--  

Inside the helicopter, they finally had a moment to catch their breath.   

Dami sat with Gahyun pressed against her side, the younger sister's eyes closed in exhaustion or relief—perhaps both. Yoohyeon slumped against the wall, while Bora methodically checked and secured her weapon. Minji moved to sit across from the sisters, studying them with newfound respect.  

"You saved our lives down there," she said simply. "Multiple times."  

Dami met her gaze steadily. "And you saved ours by coming for us. We're even."  

"What happens now?" Gahyun asked softly, opening her eyes to fix Minji with an unblinking stare.  

It was the most words she'd spoken at once, and her voice carried a vulnerability that her actions had not.  

"It’s the same as with all survivors," Minji replied. "Medical screening, debrief and placement assessment where you’ll be assigned housing and roles based on your skills."  

"We are staying together, no matter what”.  Dami said firmly.   

It wasn't a question and Minji nodded.  

"I'll make sure of it. Though I think you might be exempted from placement due to the abilities the two of you have shown today. The military will need use of your expertise, though of course, that is up to your decision. But for now, relax. We’re heading home."  

Dami nodded, as the helicopter hummed beneath them.   

Carrying them away from the ruins of the capital and back toward what remained of civilization, Dami held her sister’s hand and tightened the grip as reassurance. Despite their demonstrated lethality, in reality they were just young, barely adults who were forced to become warriors in a world that had ended.   

Minji leaned back, allowing herself to relax slightly. She watched as Bora kept a close watch on the sisters, though her eyes maintained focus on Private Yoohyeon, who had quickly fallen asleep Usually, the Captain would snap at Yoohyeon but today, there’s a sense of softness in those eyes.   

The lieutenant smiled as she closed her eyes briefly. This mission was a success. No casualties. No major injuries. Just two more souls rescued from the ruins of Seoul.   

And now, she was going home.   

To Siyeon.   

--  

The debriefing, alongside the mandatory medical checkups had dragged on for two full days.   

It was standard procedure after any mission into Seoul, but especially necessary given what they'd encountered. The coordinated infected. The sisters with their uncanny combat skills. Namsan Tower nearly overrun, but now rebuilding and fortified with more troops.   

Minji had answered the same questions a dozen times over, her patience wearing thin by the end of it.  

"Lieutenant Kim."  

She looked up to find Bora leaning against the doorframe of the briefing room, arms crossed casually over her chest.  

"I’ve spoken to the Colonel. You're free to go," Bora said, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "I'll handle the interesting matters of our new friends."  

"You mean the sisters.” Minji corrected as she tried to fight back a yawn. “Are you sure about leaving everything to you?”  

Bora nodded. "The command is practically salivating over their potential. Two civilians who survived that long in Seoul, with those skills and experience? They’ll definitely be offered a position, though I’ll have to be their mediator in between.”   

Minji gathered her things, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. "And Yoohyeon?"  

"I sent the kid home,” Bora said, her voice softer than usual. "She’s done great this time. Not a single mistake that would’ve gotten us killed. I’m impressed.”  

"Just impressed?" Minji raised an eyebrow.  

Bora's expression hardened playfully. "Hey, don't start with me, Lieutenant. Go home. Someone's waiting for you."  

Minji didn't need to be told twice.   

She signed the last of her paperwork and headed out, exchanging her tactical gear for civilian clothes—a simple t-shirt and jeans that still felt like luxury after days in body armor.  

The evening air carried a slight chill as she walked through the base toward the residential sector. The sky burned orange and purple as the sun descended, casting long shadows across the buildings. Some days, it was still strange to see people going about their normal lives—children playing, couples walking hand in hand, vendors selling their wares. As if the world hadn't ended just beyond the walls.  

Her pace quickened as she approached their apartment building. The familiar anticipation built in her chest, the feeling that had become her constant companion whenever she returned from a mission. Four flights of stairs later, she stood before their door, key in hand.  

Before she could use it, the door flew open.  

"Minji!"  

Siyeon practically launched herself forward, arms wrapping around Minji's neck. The familiar scent of Siyeon's homemade herbal shampoo—rosemary and something else Minji couldn't name—enveloped her senses. Without hesitation, Minji melted into the embrace, her arms circling Siyeon's waist, pulling her close. An instant smile wearing across her face.   

"I'm home," she whispered, the simple truth of it washing over her.  

Siyeon pulled back, her face alight with excitement, though she didn't fully release her hold on Minji. "You won't believe everything that happened while you were gone! First, I got my placement results, and you were right! I'm going to teach at the kindergarten! They said my energy levels match the children's, whatever that means."  

Minji laughed, allowing Siyeon to pull her inside the apartment. She noticed the new plants lined on the windowsills, who were thriving under Siyeon's attentive care. Her military books now neighbors as Siyeon’s sketches were littered around. The lieutanant’s space used to be just a place she’d go home to sleep. But now, in every corner of her home, she finds a sense of warmth and presence with Siyeon’s touch.   

"And then," Siyeon continued, barely pausing for breath as she guided Minji to the couch, "Mrs. Park from the community center taught me how to sew! Look!"  

She proudly displayed a slightly lopsided but neatly stitched cushion cover. "It's not perfect, but she said I'm a fast learner. Oh! And I've been helping at the community garden. Remember Hyunwoo? He let me have our own little patch to grow bean sprouts!”  

Minji sank into the couch, her body finally acknowledging the exhaustion that had been held at bay by adrenaline and duty. But she watched Siyeon with a smile, the younger woman's enthusiasm contagious as always.  

"And the best part of all," Siyeon's eyes widened as she perched on the edge of the coffee table facing Minji, "they let me tour the engineering facility! They're developing this new weapon that uses sound waves to disrupt the infected's equilibrium. It's still experimental, but imagine if you could just point a device and make zombies fall over instead of having to shoot them!"  

She demonstrated with enthusiastic hand gestures, nearly knocking over a cup in the process. Minji caught it reflexively, years of combat training making her movements quick despite her fatigue.  

Siyeon suddenly stopped, her expression shifting to one of concern.   

"I'm rambling again, aren't I? You just got back and you're probably exhausted and here I am talking your ear off and—"  

"Hey," Minji reached out, taking Siyeon's hands in hers. "I love listening to you talk. Don’t ever feel hesitant about sharing everything about your life. It’s what I look forward to all the time. Coming home to this. To you.”   

The admission hung in the air between them, more vulnerable than Minji usually allowed herself to be. Admittedly, the last few days had been a lot more tiresome compared to her previous mission. Perhaps, there had been more action, more contact with the infected and this constant loom of possibly not making it back home to Siyeon.   

Siyeon's expression softened, her fingers intertwining with Minji's. "Was it bad this time? The mission?"  

Minji nodded slowly with a sigh, "It’s different. We rescued two sisters, Dami and Gahyun. They'd been surviving in Seoul since the beginning, just like you. But they were very skilled and experienced in the field, like they knew the weak points of the zombies and their way around Seoul better than us. Honestly, I think we fought a lot of zombies this time round. I wasn’t sure if I was going to...”  

“You made it back in one piece. And that’s all that matters.” Siyeon squeezed Minji’s hands reassuringly.   

"Siyeon..." Minji's voice was quieter now, almost tentative. "Can I ask you for something?"  

"Anything."  

Minji swallowed, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. "Can you just... hold me for a while? Like when you met me at the door."  

Understanding immediately, Siyeon moved to the couch and opened her arms with a soft grin. “Come here!”   

Minji shifted into the embrace, letting her head rest against Siyeon's shoulder as arms wrapped securely around her. For someone so wiry, Siyeon's hold was surprisingly strong, enveloping Minji completely.  

They stayed like that, silent except for the sound of their breathing gradually synchronizing. The tension in Minji's body slowly uncoiled, the hypervigilance of the past days fading into something quieter, calmer.  

"Welcome home," Siyeon whispered against Minji's hair.  

And for the first time since the world ended, Minji truly felt she was.  

“I’m home.”   

Chapter Text

Minji woke to the faint smell of something burning in the kitchen. She smiled, pushing herself up on her elbows. The clock read 9am, she had slept in later than she had in months. 

"Siyeon?" she called out, voice still rough with sleep. 

"Don't come in here!" Siyeon's panicked voice carried from the kitchen, followed by the clattering of pans. "Everything's under control! Mostly! Just... stay there!" 

Minji chuckled, falling back against the pillows.  

The lieutenant had two weeks of leave stretched before her. It was Colonel Kang's orders after reviewing the mission reports.  

"Lieutenant Kim, you've earned some downtime. Consider it mandatory rest before we address the new threats you've identified."  

The sound of running water and Siyeon's muttered curses drifted from the kitchen. Minji closed her eyes, savoring the moment. No reports to file. No mission prep. No life-or-death decisions. Just this—their apartment home, Siyeon's cooking disasters, and fourteen precious days of normalcy. 

By the time Minji finally emerged from the bedroom, dressed in a faded t-shirt and comfortable pants, Siyeon had managed to salvage breakfast; a slightly blackened toast with jam and what appeared to be an attempt at an omelet. 

"I was trying to surprise you," Siyeon said, looking crestfallen at the less-than-perfect results of her efforts. "Mrs. Park said eggs were easy. Mrs. Park is a liar." 

Minji laughed, taking a seat at their small table. "It looks delicious." 

"You're a terrible liar, Lieutenant Kim." Siyeon slid a plate toward her. "But eat it anyway because I worked hard, and we don't waste food." 

"Yes, ma'am," Minji replied with mock seriousness as she sat down, with WekWek always seated there in his favorite place. She took a bite of the overdone omelet and it was surprisingly edible.  

"So, what's the plan for my first day of freedom?" 

Siyeon's eyes lit up.  

"Well, first I thought we could check in with Bora and see how the sisters are settling in. Then there's a market day in the central plaza—they have actual oranges, Minji! Real ones from the greenhouse project. And I heard the community center is showing an old movie tonight." 

She spoke rapidly, her excitement palpable. Minji nodded, taking it all in. A normal day. Normal activities. The concept still felt foreign sometimes, even after months of living here with Siyeon. 

"That sounds perfect," she said, meaning it. 

At the military sector, it buzzed with its usual efficiency with personnel patrolling around, vehicles being serviced, training sessions underway in designated areas. Minji and Siyeon made their way to the administrative building where Bora said she'd be. 

They found her in the small courtyard, observing as Yoohyeon demonstrated something to Dami and Gahyun. The two sisters were dressed in standard-issue civilian clothes, but they still carried themselves with that same alertness Minji had noticed in Seoul. 

"Lieutenant!" Yoohyeon noticed them first, straightening her posture before remembering Minji was off-duty. She cleared her throat, "I mean, Minji. Hi." 

Bora turned, her usual stern expression softening slightly. "Well, look who's rejoined the land of the living. Did you sleep for twenty hours straight?" 

"Only fifteen," Minji replied with a smile. "How's everyone settling in?" 

Bora gestured toward the sisters. "Command is practically begging them to join the special reconnaissance division. Turns out surviving in zombie-infested Seoul for years makes you pretty valuable. Ha, who would’ve thought?" 

Dami, overhearing this, approached with Gahyun following closely behind. The younger sister's eyes darted around continuously, cataloging everything. 

"We're considering it," Dami said, her voice measured. "Though the real decision will come after we've seen if your people keep their promises." 

"Four hundred and ninety-two people in this section," Gahyun said softly, her gaze still roaming. "Eighty-three military. The rest civilians. Seven exit points. Two armories." 

Minji raised an eyebrow at Bora, who shrugged. "She's been doing that since they arrived. Better than GPS." 

"We've got an apartment in the east building," Dami continued, nodding toward one of the newer structures. "It's... strange. Having walls. Electricity. Running water." 

"You'll get used to it," Siyeon chimed in with a bright smile. "I did. Well, mostly. I still hoard canned food under my bed. Minji pretends not to notice." 

Minji felt a rush of warmth at Siyeon's casual admission, at the way she naturally included herself in Minji's life, as if they'd always been together. 

“Who are you exactly?” Dami took a step back, eyeing suspiciously on Siyeon. 

“Oh! My apologies! I’m Siyeon, one of the survivors that were rescued from Seoul, just like you two!” Siyeon beamed, reaching out for a handshake which Dami reluctantly exchanged.  

“Has everything been okay, settling in?” Minji asked, turning to Gahyun. 

"Private Kim has been very helpful," Gahyun said unexpectedly, her eyes settling shyly on Yoohyeon. "She’s patient. Explains things twice when needed, though she does stutter sometimes." 

Yoohyeon blushed slightly as she chuckled nervously, “Y-You didn’t have to point that out!” and Bora's eyes narrowed in what Minji recognized as poorly disguised jealousy. 

"Well, we should get going," Minji said, sensing the tension. "Siyeon has our day planned down to the minute." 

"Oranges, Bora!" Siyeon exclaimed. "They have oranges at the market!" 

Bora smiled despite herself. "Yeah, yeah. Oranges. Go enjoy your leave, Lieutenant. We've got things handled here." 

As they turned to leave, Dami called after them. "Lieutenant Kim." 

Minji looked back. 

"Thank you," Dami said simply. 

Minji nodded, understanding everything left unsaid.  

"I’ll see you two around.”  

-- 

The market bustled with activity—a far cry from the desolate ruins of Seoul. Stalls lined the central plaza, offering everything from farm produce to handcrafted goods. Children darted between the crowds, their laughter a reminder of the resilience of humanity. 

Siyeon moved through it all with infectious enthusiasm, pulling Minji from stall to stall. She haggled for oranges with surprising skill, traded a handmade bracelet for a jar of honey, and chatted easily with vendors who clearly recognized her. 

"Everyone knows you," Minji observed as they paused by a bench, sharing a precious orange between them. 

Siyeon shrugged, wiping juice from her chin. "I talk a lot, maybe they find me annoying that I’m so memorable.”  

"No, they remember your kindness," Minji corrected her. "I've seen how you help the elderly with their packages, how you always have time to listen to someone's troubles." 

Siyeon looked away, suddenly shy. "It's nothing. Just being human." 

Minji watched her, struck by the contradiction that was Siyeon—so open and exuberant in most moments, yet so humble when her goodness was acknowledged. 

They spent the afternoon moving between the market and various shops, Siyeon insisting that Minji needed clothes that weren't military-issued or practical. She held up a soft blue sweater against Minji's chest, head tilted critically. 

"This brings out your eyes," she decided, adding it to their small pile of purchases. 

Minji rarely thought about such things—appearance had little relevance in her daily life—but seeing the pleasure Siyeon took in these simple activities made her go along willingly. 

By late afternoon, they'd visited half the shops in the residential sector, had coffee at the community café, and Siyeon had introduced Minji to what seemed like dozens of people—many of whom expressed surprise at finally meeting "Siyeon's famous roommate." 

Each time, something tightened in Minji's chest at the word "roommate." It was accurate, of course. They shared the apartment. They were friends. But lately, Minji had found herself watching Siyeon a beat too long, finding excuses for casual contact, wondering what it would be like to be something more. 

The realization had crept up on her gradually over the months since rescuing Siyeon from her solitary existence in Seoul. What had started as protective instinct had evolved into deep affection, and then... something else entirely. 

Oh no. 

-- 

That evening, after the promised movie (a romantic comedy that had Siyeon laughing and Minji trying not to analyze the implausible scenarios), they decided to take the long way home. Their path took them up a small hill that overlooked the base and the sunset beyond. 

"Hey, can we stop here for a bit?" Minji asked as they reached the summit, where a single bench faced the western sky. 

Siyeon nodded, seemingly content to follow Minji's lead for once. They sat side by side, watching as the sun descended, painting the clouds in brilliant oranges and pinks. Despite the beauty, Minji felt an uncharacteristic nervousness, her hands fidgeting in her lap. 

"I'm glad you have two weeks off," Siyeon said softly, breaking the silence. "I worry when you're out there, you know. Even though I know you're the strongest, smartest and most capable person I've ever met." 

Minji turned to look at her, surprised by the candid admission. "You do?" 

Siyeon nodded, still gazing at the sunset. "Every time. You know, when you left for the mission, I counted the days until you were back. Sometimes, I talk to the plants, or I ask WekWek if he knows anything about your whereabouts. He has telepathic powers sometimes, don’t ask why. I also sleep in your t-shirt sometimes because it smells like you, and it makes me feel like you’re here...with me.” 

She said it all matter-of-factly, as if these weren't revelations that made Minji's heart race. 

"Siyeon, I—" Minji began, then hesitated, unaccustomed to uncertainty. She faced death regularly without flinching, but this—putting words to the feelings that had been building—terrified her. 

Siyeon finally turned to look at her, expression curious. "Hm?" 

Minji took a deep breath. "Ever since I met you, I've been... happier than I can remember being since before everything happened. You bring something into my life that I didn't even know was missing." 

Siyeon's eyes widened slightly, 

"I know we started as simply a military girl just coming to rescue a survivor. We’re now friends sharing a house together but...” Minji swallowed, forcing herself to continue. "I find myself wanting more than just that, with you. I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t know if it’s something that...you might want too.” 

The moment the words left her lips, Minji felt simultaneously terrified and relieved. The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting Siyeon's face in golden light as she processed Minji's confession. 

"Minji,"  

Siyeon said finally, her voice softer than Minji had ever heard it. "I've been in love with you since the day you found me in my apartment. I think it was love at first sight. The first beautiful human I had ever seen in those two years, telling me that there was a still a world out there worth living for. You were right.” 

The directness of Siyeon's response—so typically Siyeon—made Minji's breath catch. Before she could respond, Siyeon leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Her movements were tentative, unpracticed, as she pressed her lips to Minji's. 

The kiss was clumsy, a little off-center, clearly Siyeon's first. Minji felt herself smiling against Siyeon's lips, her hand coming up to gently cup Siyeon's cheek, adjusting the angle slightly. 

When they parted, Siyeon's face was flushed, her eyes bright with wonder. 

"Was that okay?" she asked, suddenly uncertain. "I've never... I mean, I was alone during all those years when normal teenagers would have been experimenting with—" 

Minji silenced her with another kiss, this one more assured. When they separated again, both were breathless. 

"It was perfect," Minji said, resting her forehead against Siyeon's. "You're perfect." 

Siyeon laughed, the sound carrying across the hillside. "Nonsense! I'm definitely not. I burn eggs. I talk too much. I still don't understand half of your military jargon. And I-" 

"Perfect for me," Minji amended, taking Siyeon's hand in hers and giving another kiss on Siyeon’s cheek. Their fingers intertwined naturally, as if they'd been meant to fit together all along. 

The last rays of sunlight disappeared below the horizon, the sky deepening to purple and then dark blue. Against the darkening canvas, the first stars began to appear—tiny pinpricks of light in the vastness. 

They sat there, hand in hand, watching night fall over their small corner of the surviving world. Whatever came next—the evolving infected, the uncertain future, the ongoing struggle to reclaim what had been lost—they would face it together. 

And for now, that was enough. 

-- 

One year later. 

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across their bedroom. Minji stirred first, as she always did. Military habits were hard to kick away. She turned to find Siyeon still fast asleep, hair splayed across the pillow, mouth slightly open. The sight never failed to make her heart swell. 

"Hey," Minji whispered, brushing a strand of hair from Siyeon's face. "Time to wake up." 

Siyeon groaned, burrowing deeper into the blankets. "Five more minutes." 

"You said that twenty minutes ago," Minji replied, pressing a gentle kiss to Siyeon's forehead, then her cheek, and finally her lips. 

Siyeon's eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile spreading across her face. "Mmm. I've changed my mind. This is a much better alarm clock." 

Minji laughed, the sound coming easily now.  

A year ago, laughter had felt like a forgotten language. Now it was as natural as breathing. 

"We've got that briefing today," Minji reminded her, reluctantly sliding out of bed. "The one about the Seoul reclamation project for everyone to hear." 

Siyeon sat up, suddenly alert. "Right! I forgot that was today." She glanced at the shelf where WekWek sat among their small collection of books and mementos. The teddy bear had a place of honor, a remnant of their beginnings. She would still occasionally talk to him sometimes, wondering how he had been.  

"Do you think they'll actually let civilians start moving back next year?" 

Minji shrugged as she pulled on her uniform. "That's what we're supposed to find out. The area has been cleared, but there's still so much rebuilding to do." 

"Do you ever think about going back?" Siyeon asked, her voice quieter now. "To live, I mean." 

Minji paused, turning to face her girlfriend. "Sometimes. It was home, once. But honestly?" She crossed the room, taking Siyeon's hands in hers. "Home is wherever you are now." 

Siyeon's face lit up with that radiant smile that still made Minji's heart skip. "Oh my, look at you being all cheesy on me. That is a very good answer, Lieutenant." She pulled Minji down for another kiss, this one lingering.  

-- 

The military compound buzzed with activity as they arrived. The announcement of Seoul's official reclamation had sent ripples of excitement through the surviving population. After years of the capital being written off as lost, the possibility of return represented more than just a tactical victory—it was symbolic hope. 

"Lieutenant Kim!" A voice called from across the courtyard. 

Minji turned to see Colonel Kang approaching, accompanied by a woman in a crisp uniform that Minji didn't recognize. The insignia marked her as foreign military—Chinese, specifically. 

"Sir," Minji saluted sharply. Beside her, Siyeon gave a slightly more casual salute that she'd perfected over the past year, no longer the awkward attempt it had once been. 

"At ease," Colonel Kang said. "Lieutenant, this is Captain Han Dong, liaison from the Chinese military's Reclamation Division. Captain, Lieutenant Minji, one of our finest, and her partner, Lee Siyeon." 

"It's an honor," Captain Han said in perfect Korean, bowing slightly. "I've read the reports of your rescue missions in Seoul. Impressive work." 

"Thank you, Captain," Minji replied. "We're looking forward to hearing about China's experiences with urban reclamation." 

"Please, call me Handong," the captain said with a warm smile. "And I hope we can learn from each other. Your containment protocols have been more successful than ours in many ways." 

As they walked toward the briefing room, Siyeon fell into easy conversation with Handong. Minji watched with affectionate amusement. Siyeon's ability to befriend almost anyone had only grown stronger since rejoining society. 

"So you were in Beijing when it happened?" Siyeon asked. 

Handong nodded. "Military academy. We were deployed immediately to evacuate civilians. It was... challenging." 

"That's one word for it," Siyeon agreed. "I was still in high school, trapped in my apartment. Made weapons out of kitchen supplies and talked to my teddy bear for two years. He’s called WekWek but yeah, I still talk to him sometimes though." 

Handong's eyebrows rose slightly, but to her credit, she didn't miss a beat. "Resourceful. We could have used someone like you." 

Siyeon beamed, throwing a proud glance at Minji, who couldn't help but smile back. Her girlfriend's candor had long stopped being something Minji felt the need to temper. It was part of what made Siyeon who she was—unfiltered, genuine, a bright spot in a world that had grown too accustomed to shadows. 

Inside the briefing room, they found Bora already setting up, with Yoohyeon hovering nearby, ostensibly helping but mainly just following Bora around like a devoted puppy. 

"Is the projection system working?" Bora asked, not looking up from her tablet. 

"Um, yes, I think so," Yoohyeon replied, fiddling with a cable. "I checked it twice." 

"Well, check it again, we can’t afford any mishaps," Bora said, but her tone lacked the sharp edge it would have had a year ago.  

“But I already did...” Yoohyeon pouted quietly as she moved over, “Fine, I’ll check it again.” 

There was something almost fond in the way Bora glanced at Yoohyeon when the private wasn't looking. 

"They're still doing this dance?" Minji murmured to Siyeon. 

"Yep," Siyeon whispered back. "Bora brought Yoohyeon soup when she was sick last month. Stood guard outside her door like a sentinel. Still insists they're 'just colleagues.'" 

Minji shook her head, amused. "Some things never change." 

Dami and Gahyun arrived next, both now officially part of the military's special reconnaissance unit. The sisters had integrated into life in Busan in their own ways—Gahyun with surprising enthusiasm once she'd adjusted, Dami with more measured caution. Both wore their uniforms with the same precision they'd once applied to survival. 

"Captain," Dami nodded at Handong, clearly recognizing the rank insignia. "We haven't met." 

"Captain Han Dong, Chinese Military Reclamation Division," Handong introduced herself, extending a hand. "You must be Captain Dami. Your tactical approaches to urban navigation have been incorporated into our training programs." 

Dami's normally impassive expression flickered with surprise as she shook Handong's hand. "You're familiar with my work?" 

"Very much," Handong replied, holding the handshake perhaps a moment longer than necessary. "I'd love to discuss your methods for silent movement through debris zones sometime." 

"I... yes," Dami said, looking slightly flustered for perhaps the first time since Minji had known her. "That would be acceptable." 

Beside them, Gahyun rolled her eyes, shooting a knowing look at Siyeon, who had to stifle a giggle. 

As more personnel filed in, Colonel Kang called the meeting to order. The room quieted as he brought up the first holographic projection—a map of Seoul, overlaid with color-coded zones indicating clearance status. 

"As of 0600 hours yesterday, the final sector of Seoul has been officially declared clear of infected," he announced. "This marks the completion of Phase One of the reclamation project." 

A murmur ran through the assembled officers. Minji felt Siyeon's hand find hers under the table, squeezing tightly. 

"Phase Two—infrastructure restoration—begins immediately," Colonel Kang continued. "Captain Han's team will be assisting with power grid rehabilitation, having successfully implemented similar systems in Beijing and Shanghai." 

Handong stepped forward, bringing up detailed schematics of solar array installations. "The advantage of rebuilding from scratch is that we can implement the most advanced systems available. Seoul will be more efficient, more sustainable than it was before." 

Minji listened attentively as the briefing continued, but she couldn't help notice the way Dami seemed unusually focused on Handong's presentation, or how Bora had somehow ended up with her shoulder pressed against Yoohyeon's despite there being plenty of room at their table. 

Siyeon leaned close, her breath warm against Minji's ear. "Everyone's pairing up," she whispered. "It's like Noah's ark in here." 

Minji bit back a laugh, squeezing Siyeon's hand in silent admonishment. But she couldn't disagree. 

-- 

"So where are we going?" Minji asked as Siyeon tugged her through the streets of Busan that evening. After the briefing, Siyeon had insisted they had plans for the night, though she'd been mysteriously tight-lipped about the details. 

"You'll see," Siyeon sing-songed, her excitement palpable. "It's a surprise." 

The streets were busier than usual, with people taking advantage of the warm spring evening. Children played in the small parks that had been established between buildings, their laughter a sound that still struck Minji as miraculous after everything they'd been through. 

Siyeon led her to a part of the settlement Minji rarely visited—an area where some enterprising civilians had established small businesses. Restaurants, shops, a makeshift movie theater. Signs of life returning to normal, or at least finding a new normal. 

They stopped in front of a small building with twinkling lights strung across its entrance and a hand-painted sign: "The Starlight Café." 

"Ta-da!" Siyeon spread her arms wide, looking immensely pleased with herself. "I reserved us a table. Mrs. Jung—you know, Hyunwoo’s aunt who co-runs the community garden?—she opened this place last month. They have real coffee, Minji! And music. And they make these little pastries with the strawberries from the greenhouses." 

Minji smiled at Siyeon's enthusiasm. "You planned a date." 

"Our first proper one," Siyeon nodded, suddenly looking a bit shy. "I mean, we've done stuff together, but always around the base or with others. I wanted to do something special. Just for us." 

Minji felt a rush of affection so strong it nearly took her breath away. She pulled Siyeon close, pressing a kiss to her temple. "It's perfect." 

Inside, the café was a marvel of ingenuity.  

The décor was eclectic—clearly pieced together from whatever had been salvaged—but it worked. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling, creating the illusion of stars. Small tables were arranged intimately, each with a candle flickering at its center. From somewhere, soft music played—an old song Minji vaguely recognized from before. 

Mrs. Jung, a woman in her sixties with laugh lines around her eyes, greeted them warmly. "Ah, Siyeon! And the famous Lieutenant Kim. Your table is ready. The best one, just as promised." 

She led them to a corner table, partly secluded by a beaded curtain. It offered a view of both the café and the window that looked out onto the street, where the last orange rays of sunset were fading. 

"I'll bring your drinks in a moment," Mrs. Jung said with a knowing smile before departing. 

"You know her well?" Minji asked as they sat down. 

Siyeon nodded. "I help in the community garden sometimes when you're away on missions. She teaches me about plants. Did you know tomatoes shouldn't be refrigerated? I didn't know that." 

Minji smiled, watching as Siyeon launched into an explanation of proper tomato storage and other gardening wisdom Mrs. Jung had imparted. It still amazed her how Siyeon could find such joy in these small details, how she embraced every aspect of their recovering world with such genuine enthusiasm. 

Their evening unfolded with a gentle rhythm.  

Mrs. Jung brought them coffee—real coffee, as Siyeon had promised—along with small plates of food that were simple but prepared with obvious care. They talked about everything and nothing. Siyeon's latest community project and her days working at the kindergarten. Minji's thoughts on the reclamation efforts. Bora and Yoohyeon's painfully slow progress toward admitting their feelings. The way Dami had actually stammered when Handong had asked to see her tactical diagrams after the briefing. 

It was so perfectly normal that Minji found herself forgetting, for long stretches, about the world they had lost.  

This, sitting across from Siyeon in a café with music playing softly in the background, felt like it could have been their life in any timeline. 

"I've been thinking," Siyeon said, after a comfortable lull in the conversation. "About what happens next. With Seoul, I mean." 

Minji set down her cup. "What about it?" 

"Colonel Kang mentioned they'll need civilian consultants for the residential district restoration," Siyeon said, tracing the rim of her coffee cup with one finger. "People who remember what it was like before. And, well, I do remember all of it. I’ve spent two years there, all alone." 

"You're thinking of volunteering?" Minji asked, watching Siyeon's face carefully. 

Siyeon nodded. "If you think it's a good idea. It would mean going back, at least for a little while. But I want to help. I want to be part of making it livable again." 

Minji reached across the table, taking Siyeon's hand. "I think it's a perfect idea. And I'd be with you every step of the way." 

Siyeon's smile was brilliant. "Really? You don't think it's too soon?" 

"I think it's exactly the right time," Minji said, squeezing her hand. "Seoul is part of your story. Our story. Helping rebuild it is—" 

The lights went out abruptly, plunging the café into darkness. A chorus of surprised murmurs rose from the other tables. 

"Everyone stay calm," Mrs. Jung's voice called out. "It's just a power fluctuation. The backup generators should kick in shortly." 

Minji felt Siyeon's hand tighten around hers. Then, unexpectedly, Siyeon giggled. 

"What?" Minji asked, barely able to make out Siyeon's silhouette in the darkness. 

"It’s lights out, Minji" Siyeon whispered, her voice suddenly much closer as she leaned across the table. "I'm pretty sure this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me dramatically in the darkness. That's how it works in all the old movies." 

Minji could hear the smile in Siyeon's voice. She reached out, her hand finding Siyeon's cheek in the darkness, guiding herself toward her. "Is that so?" 

"Mmm-hmm," Siyeon murmured. "Very important storytelling device. Creates tension and romance for our date to succeed”.  

"Well," Minji said, their lips now inches apart, "we can't ignore proper storytelling techniques, can we?" 

Their lips met in the darkness, soft and familiar yet somehow new in this setting. Minji felt Siyeon smile against her mouth, her hand coming up to curl around the back of Minji's neck. The world narrowed to just this—the taste of coffee on Siyeon's lips, the faint music still playing from battery-powered speakers, the way Siyeon sighed softly as Minji deepened the kiss. 

The lights flickered back on just as they pulled apart, illuminating Siyeon's flushed cheeks and bright eyes. 

"Oh, perfect timing," Siyeon whispered, looking slightly dazed. "Just like in the movies." 

Around them, patrons applauded the return of power. Mrs. Jung bustled about, checking on everyone, but Minji could focus only on Siyeon—on the way the returned light caught in her hair, on the softness in her expression, on the miracle of her presence in Minji's life. 

"I love you," Minji said simply, the words coming as naturally as breathing. 

Siyeon's smile widened, the one that still made Minji's heart flutter after all this time. "I love you too," she replied, reaching across the table to intertwine their fingers again.  

And in that moment—with the café humming back to life around them, with the future of Seoul waiting to be rebuilt, with Siyeon's hand warm in hers—Minji knew with absolute certainty that whatever darkness the world had endured, whatever challenges still lay ahead, they had found their light. 

A light that would never go out again. 

 ~fin