𝕎𝔸𝕐 𝔹𝔸ℂ𝕂 ℍ𝕆𝕄𝔼 ||𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋||

Chapter - 36

The morning sun cast a warm glow on the service area, a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere that clung to the air. The other students, wearied yet resolved, readied themselves for their journey back to Seoul. Among them, Yeon-hwa, Il-ha, Yu-jeong, and Jang-soo found no solace in staying behind. The unspoken understanding of their shared fate compelled them to join the reluctant exodus.

In the faintly lit room that had become their temporary refuge, Yeon-hwa stood before her makeshift bed. As the morning light seeped through the small window, she started packing– a simple task that now carried the heaviness of a farewell.

Yeon-hwa's gaze lingered on the essentials she needed to pack. Her hands moved with quiet grace, only selecting the essentials that would sustain them on this long journey. The air held a palpable sense of unease, a foreboding of the consequences of the choices made.

Among her personal belongings, Yeon-hwa's fingers hesitated over the sketchbook Soo-cheol had given her two nights ago. Its presence invoked a bittersweet ache, a reminder of a promise that would remain unfulfilled. With a heavy sigh, she packed it inside and zipped her bag closed, the weight of the journey settling on her shoulders.

The morning light filtered through the dusty air, casting shadows that danced across the room. The guitar, once a source of shared melodies and solace, sat in a corner, its strings still echoing all the memories she had made with her friends over these two months.

All those laughters, all those support, all those infectious enthusiasms, all those quiet strengths— all woven into the fabric of her being. Every shared meals, every shared joke, every shared hardship—they had become the tapestry of a friendship forged in the crucible of adversity.

Yeon-hwa's gaze lingered on it, torn between the desire to carry the memories it held and the burden it might become on their journey. In the end, she carried it over to the memorial room, where all those sketches of the people they had lost were smiling at her fondly.

The guitar found its place at the corner joining the mementos, a poignant reminder of those who would no longer share the journey. The room, adorned with sketches and memories, felt like a sacred space, a testament to the resilience of those who had embarked on this harrowing adventure.

Turning to the portraits adorning the room, she felt a strange tug on her heart. Yeon-hwa stood before them, the weight of impending separation settling in her heart. "I've never been the one to seek solace in prayers," she murmured, her words a fragile thread connecting her to the departed. "But, today I don't know. I'm scared. Scared of what awaits us on the road back home. So, I don't know how this works, but please, if you can hear me, if you're watching over us, please guide our steps, guard us against the unknown, and help us reach home safely." Her words hung in the air, a vulnerable admission from a soul navigating uncharted territories of fear and loss.

As her whispers faded into the air, a comforting presence materialized beside her. Her eyes met with Jang-soo's, a silent understanding passing between them. In the shared silence, Yeon-hwa continued her prayers, speaking aloud the wishes that echoed in the hearts of all those standing in the room.

With a last, lingering look at the memorial room, she stepped out of the room. "Ready to go?" Jang-soo asked, holding out her rifle to her. With a nod, Yeon-hwa took the rifle from him, and together, they walked out of the building.

Il-ha and Yu-jeong waited for them outside, the weight of their shared experiences etched on their faces. The group of students had already set out, their figures disappearing into the landscape as they began the journey back to Seoul.

The quartet fell in step behind, each step marking the transition from the makeshift haven to the uncertain path that awaited them. The morning sun bathed the surroundings in a warm embrace, yet the heaviness of their hearts lingered.