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It's early in the morning. Distantly, the sound of waves repeatedly crashing against sand lulls Yoona into conciseness. Blinking off sleep, she thinks: "It happened again, didn't it?"
Washed up. Totally, and utterly. As much as it should be a surprise for Yoona, it isn't. Not as if this hasn't happened several times prior. Though it is a new setting, she realizes.
Reflective is the only way to describe sitting here, really. She lets her eyes drift towards the shipwreck in the distance. It's almost laughable. For such a grand ship, it's really wilted into something pathetic, destroyed and out of use. So much for an escape attempt. It makes her wonder about her other crew members. Everyone else is—well, everyone but Kyujin, is probably somewhere unbeknownst to her.
Kyujin, like usual, is close by. She always is, in the aftermath. Just seeing her sitting in the distance, alone by the lowering tide, settles a sour taste in Yoona's mouth.
Took you long enough to wake up.
And there it is. She's back. Yoona sighs as she gets to her feet. "Shut up," she whispers, knowing full well that speaking to Sullyoon aloud is pointless. They are both in her head, after all.
Annoyingly, Sullyoon doesn't cease.
She's crying.
That's the weird thing about Sullyoon: she's always watching. In some inhuman, astral sort of way. She sees things that are physically out of Yoona's line of sight; like Kyujin crying on the far end of the beach. It comes as both a blessing and a curse, despite being an actual curse.
Yoona walks over. The sand is still damp from the tide pulling away, yet the sound of her footsteps don't manage to alert Kyujin of her presence. Sullyoon lets out a sort of huff noise in her head.
Do you think she remembers?
Yoona fights the urge to roll her eyes. "Obviously," she thinks.
It's a stupid question to ask. Of course Kyujin does: Sullyoon is the whole reason she is capable of remembering in the first place. No one else suffers quite like them. Ignoring Sullyoon's sneer comment, she steps closer to Kyujin. This time, her attention is caught.
She is crying, much like Sullyoon had said. Tear tracks line her cheeks as she blinks up at Yoona, defeat pooled in her eyes. The whole situation feels oddly reminiscent of times in the past. It's not often that they're like this: one on one, surrounded by nothing but themselves. Last time this happened was in some old, abandoned building with everyone else. Fear is truly a funny thing.
Ironically, Yoona doesn't have much memory of then. It's hard to when Sullyoon takes control. Even now, months passed on, Yoona still struggles to keep the reins of her own conciseness in-check. She's never seen Sullyoon before, yet Sullyoon knows all of her—inside and out. There's a physical manifestation of her out there somewhere, according to Sullyoon herself.
(Yoona worries that, one day, things will slip, and they'll swap places.)
Kyujin did this to herself. It's always her.
As much as Yoona doesn't want to, she agrees with Sullyoon. Every repeat of the cycle, every mistake spiraled into causality, always manages to lie at the hands of their engineer. Though maybe Yoona can't blame her entirely; she's young, and all of the pressure is on her to get them where they're supposed to be. They've been through this outcome so many times over—the crashes, fires; the drownings and casualties—that Yoona can only come to one conclusion.
This journey is bound to fail.
Looking down, Kyujin stares at her wordlessly, but her eyes do all of the talking. They're asking a question, hoping that, by some chance, all of this wasn't her fault. An answer sits on the tip of Yoona's tongue, but she swallows it when she catches sight of Kyujin's hand.
Gold. It coats the entirety of her left hand, streaking slightly up her forearm. Yoona finds it hard not to look.
There's a small nod from Kyujin, acknowledgement of Yoona's glaring at her hand. It's obvious. Kyujin, like always, failed. A loud crash of the tide dampens the sound of sniffling. For a moment, Yoona doesn't move; just watches over her, something that might resemble pity weighing in her chest somewhere. Just awful.
Leave her.
Sullyoon is probably right. It's best not to linger—especially around Kyujin. And anyway, she needs to workshop a plan on how to get everyone back together from this crash-fiasco. It's her role. God knows where they all might be.
Yet, to her surprise, it's Kyujin who moves first.
She's shaky getting to her feet, but she gets there nonetheless. Her (normal) forearm comes up to wipe her face, tear tracks now only a memory of her failure. Not once does she give Yoona any form of recognition. She simply gets up, dusts herself off, and walks away. From what it looks like, she's headed back towards the mainland to do—actually, not even Yoona can predict that. It would help if she knew what world they've even crashed in.
But if there's one thing she is confident in knowing, it's that Kyujin is persistent. She refuses to give up. Again and again, she tries. Even if Yoona won't admit it fully, she can't help but admire it. The mental load of dying repeatedly, only to resurrect and die again, is a lot.
She's going to mess up again.
Sullyoon never gains hope, does she? Yoona weakly digs her heel into the sand, debating where she'll go and sit to plot her Get The Crew Back Together plan.
"Probably."
—
Things are, for the most part, better. It's nice having everyone back together.
They're waiting on Kyujin. She has a plan, apparently. A new ship; dubbed as MMU. From what Yoona knows (and from Sullyoon's watching), it's been a tireless effort to ensure everything is perfect, foolproof. Sullyoon doesn't trust her, and neither does Yoona.
Speaking of Sullyoon, she's decided to make her own appearance, in a way. She's been doing that a lot recently; following, keeping close by. Yoona spares a glance to the ceiling where the dark infestation poisons itself into material. Gross. Just looking at it makes her eyes water.
Kyujin arrives back with the plans. She spreads the paper over the table and everyone leans in.
It's impressive, no doubt. Arguably the most intricate design she's come up with yet. The more Yoona looks, the more she notices the smaller details—ones that fix the problems they had before, the reasons they had failed prior. The others wouldn't notice, obviously. For them in this life, this is the first time they've seen such a design or concept.
Everyone agrees that it's good. The green-light to go forward with its construction is given, and Kyujin gives a sigh of relief to herself when she thinks no one is looking. One by one, everyone trails out of the room, having their own business to tend to. But Kyujin stays. Yoona can feel her eyes on her.
Speak to her.
Always so ominous. Everyone else has gone now, leaving only Kyujin and herself to occupy the space. Sullyoon is still physically manifested in the ceiling gunk above them. Yoona pushes herself out of her chair, walks right up to Kyujin and stands by her ear.
"This time," Yoona whispers, leaning in further, "don't fail."
She leaves after that. Doesn't give Kyujin the chance to respond or even acknowledge her order. Not like she really needs to, anyway. She's got Sullyoon to keep watch for her.