You're Not Leaving Me.

by Noodles_456

Summary:

Mijin attempts suicide, Pill overdose.

Chapter 1: The Overdose Attempt.

The air in the refugee camp barracks hung heavy with the smell of too many people and stale MREs. It was late, the weak overhead light the only thing cutting through the gloom, most survivors already asleep or trying to be.

Mi-jin sat on her cot, back to the flimsy partition wall, a cheap plastic water glass in one hand and a small, prescription-orange bottle in the other. Her hands trembled slightly as she tipped the pills—zopiclone, maybe, something strong pilfered from the infirmary—into her palm. It just needs to be over. The world had already ended once; she was just catching up. She tipped a small handful into her mouth and reached for the water. That’s when the curtain shifted violently.

Ha-ri, returning from guard duty, stopped dead in the opening. The sharp, athletic energy that defined her usually went silent when she wasn't on the archery range, but now she was all harsh motion. Mi-jin’s eyes snapped up, wide with panic, a split second before her survival instincts took over in a bizarre, desperate burst of energy.

She lunged to her feet, not dropping anything, and started jogging around the bedroom to the other side. She still held the little bottle of pills in one hand, pouring them into her mouth, and kept the glass of water in the other.

"Mi-jin! Stop!" Ha-ri yelled, rushing forward. Mi-jin, driven by a panicked impulse, didn't run out, she started jogging in a tight circle around the small, cramped room, like a scared animal in a cage. Her movements were jerky and uncoordinated. She kept the empty orange bottle inverted over her mouth, aggressively shaking the last remaining pills into her system even as she moved. The plastic water glass was still clutched in her other hand, sloshing water onto the dirty floor with every step. She was a frantic, chaotic mess of motion.

"What are you doing?!" Ha-ri reached the center of the room and tackled her around the waist, bringing them both down onto a mattress with a sharp whoosh of compressed springs. The orange bottle flew from Mi-jin’s mouth, scattering white pills like confetti across the blankets.

The water glass shattered on the concrete floor with a deafening CRACK. Mi-jin fought her, weaker but desperate, trying to shove Ha-ri off, her eyes wild. "Let go of me! Just let me—" Ha-ri pinned her easily, using her strong athlete’s build. She didn't shout. Her voice was low and ragged, her own grief momentarily surfacing in her expression.

"No," Ha-ri said, the single word an order and a plea. "We survived too much for you to end it like this. You fight to live, you hear me? You don't get to quit now." Mi-jin stared up at her, tears finally breaking free, the adrenaline fading into a harsh, hollow sob. Ha-ri didn't let go; she just shifted her weight, pulling the shaking girl into a tight, fierce embrace, right there amongst the spilled pills and broken glass.

Chapter 2: Spit them out

Summary:

Thanks for reading <3

Sorry if this content discomforts you, pls don't read it if you're underage because this content might not be suitable.Or if you're uncomfortable then pls skip this fic.

In the immediate aftermath of the tackle, pinned under Ha-ri's embrace amidst the sound of the broken glass, Mi-jin still had a few chalky pills clinging to the back of her tongue.

As Ha-ri held her tight, shifting her weight from a pinning posture to an embrace, Mi-jin stopped struggling physically but her throat reflexively spasmed. Ha-ri felt the subtle movement against her chest and pulled back instantly, suspicion narrowing her eyes.

"Spit them out. Now." Ha-ri’s voice was stone-cold and non-negotiable.

Mi-jin clamped her mouth shut, shaking her head defiantly, a final, desperate act of control. Without a moment’s hesitation, Ha-ri hooked a hand under Mi-jin’s chin, gripping tight, and used her other hand to force Mi-jin's jaw open. She wasn’t gentle.

Ha-ri reached two fingers into Mi-jin’s mouth, ignoring the sharp bite of Mi-jin’s teeth against her index finger.

Mi-jin choked and gagged, tears streaming harder now. Ha-ri didn't offer comfort immediately. She held Mi-jin firmly by the shoulders, forcing her to make eye contact, her expression a mix of fury and profound relief. "Idiot," Ha-ri whispered, pulling Mi-jin back into her chest, her voice shaking now. "You absolute idiot."

"Don't you ever scare me like that again. We need you here. I need you here." Mi-jin finally broke down completely, burying her face in Ha-ri's shoulder, the harsh reality of her failed attempt sinking in. She clutched the back of Ha-ri's shirt, the immediate danger over, but the painful, exhausting reality of choosing to live in this broken world just beginning.

Chapter 3: "I won't let go of you."

Ha-ri's relief evaporated instantly, replaced by a cold, hard shock that turned her blood to ice. The moment Mi-jin’s muffled, detached words registered—"It's okay... we just need more pills. Hold on..."—Ha-ri knew the crisis wasn't over. It wasn't a moment of weakness; it was a total break.

Before Ha-ri could even process the full horrific meaning of the phrase "we just need more pills," Mi-jin yanked herself out of the embrace with a frightening, singular focus. Her movements were no longer panicked; they were desperate and eerily calm in their resolve.

Mi-jin rushed across the cramped barracks room toward the small, locked cabinet where the camp stored emergency medications. She didn't pause, didn't look back. "I need more pills! We need to find some more..." she mumbled frantically, tugging uselessly at the locked metal handle.

She clawed at the seams of the cabinet door, oblivious to the fact it was secured, her voice rising in a thin, reedy wail. "I can't continue to be alive!"

Ha-ri was on her in an instant, tackling her from behind and pinning her against the cabinet with brutal force. This time, there was no embrace, only restraint. "Stop it! Look at me!" Ha-ri commanded, spinning Mi-jin around and shaking her by the shoulders.

The look in Mi-jin's eyes was distant, unfocused, and terrifyingly empty. She was gone, for the moment. Ha-ri tightened her grip, her own desperation mounting. "Mi-jin! Listen to me! You are alive, and you are staying that way!" Ha-ri didn't know what else to do. Shouts were starting to come from the other bunks as the noise level spiked. Ha-ri pulled Mi-jin tightly to her chest, pinning her arms down, forcing her to be still, whispering fiercely into her hair.

"I won't let you go. I lost my brother. I'm not losing you too. I won't let you," Ha-ri repeated, rocking slightly as Mi-jin struggled weakly, still mumbling incoherently about pills and needing to end it. Ha-ri held on with the strength of an archer’s draw, a lifeline in the darkness, refusing to let go until the sun came up and they could get help.

Chapter 4: "This isn't the chance you need"

Summary:

"We are the chance." Death is not the solution, no matter how bad you want it.

Sunshine creeps in through the wondows of the group's temporary room, each bed has a glint of gold from the early sun, which creates a slight ounce of peace and warmth after everything they did to get to this safety.

Nearly an hour had passed since the scare earlier from the medication Mi-jin tried to chug down her gob.

Ha-ri held Mi-jin tightly against her, keeping her arms pinned to her sides, using sheer will to keep the other girl grounded in the present moment. Other survivors were sitting up now, whispering worriedly, but Ha-ri ignored them all, focusing solely on the shaking girl in her arms.

Finally, Slowly, the frantic energy began to leave Mi-jin’s body, replaced by profound, heart-wrenching sobs. The wild thrashing stopped. She melted into Ha-ri's embrace properly, her face buried in Ha-ri's worn jacket.

Ha-ri let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, relaxing her iron grip slightly, allowing herself a flicker of hope that the storm had passed.

Then, through choked sobs and quiet mumbles against her chest, Mi-jin whispered, "Maybe if there was just another bottle left... there might be a chance."

Ha-ri froze. The words hung in the air, a chilling echo of her earlier, frantic breakdown. A chance. Mi-jin meant a chance to die.

Ha-ri pulled back instantly, not letting go, but forcing Mi-jin to look up at her face. Her own eyes were fiercely determined, perhaps even shining with unshed tears.

"No," Ha-ri said, her voice clear and cutting through the quiet barracks. "No more chances for that. You don't need a bottle, Mi-jin. We are the chance."

Ha-ri cups both Mi-jin's cheeks firmly, making sure every word sank in. "We made it through hell to get here. We survived when everyone else died. That wasn't an accident. That was a chance to live, and you don't get to throw it away."

Ha-ri pulled Mi-jin's head back down to her shoulder, a fierce, protective embrace that offered no escape, but plenty of solace. "You want a chance? We fight for it together, every day. But you are staying right here with me, whether you want to or not."

Ha-ri wrapped one arm around Mi-jin's shoulder and reached out with the other hand, motioning to the still-watching survivors. "Someone get a medic. Now."

Notes:

Thanks so much for having a read of my story, also , more chapters to come <3

And ofcourse if anyone has a request or advice for a future chapter of this oneshot or want me to write another fic with different plot or detail, feel free to let me know! Then I would love to read your suggestions or any comments you leave!

Have a splendid day my Hajin shippers :3

Chapter 5: Infirmary🩺🏥

For the next couple of days, Mi-jin remained in the small, sterile confines of the camp's medic room, under observation. The flimsy tent walls offered little privacy, but the atmosphere was a necessary calm after the previous night's storm.

Ha-ri, true to her word, stayed close. She couldn't be in the room itself—the medical staff insisted on calm and quiet—so she took a seat just outside the canvas door flap, her back against the camp supply boxes. She had her bow disassembled beside her, cleaning the limbs obsessively, every movement of her hands a physical manifestation of her restless worry. She could hear everything inside.

On the third afternoon, the quiet murmur of the medic was interrupted by the faint rustle of sheets and a tired, raspy voice.

"Where's Ha-ri?" Mi-jin asked, her voice thick with exhaustion and lingering medication.

Ha-ri stopped wiping down a section of the bow limb, holding her breath, listening intently.

The medic answered with a calm, practiced tone. "She’s right outside. She hasn't left much."

A short pause followed. Ha-ri imagined Mi-jin processing the words, her mind slowly wading through the fog of sleep and medication. Then, the next question came, quieter this time, tinged with a detached curiosity that still made Ha-ri’s stomach clench.

"Where's the pills?"

Ha-ri's hands tightened on the bow limb until her knuckles went white. It wasn't a desperate plea this time, just a simple inquiry, an automatic thought pattern resurfacing.

The medic chuckled lightly, a sound designed to diffuse the tension. "Safe and sound in the locked cabinet, Mi-jin. Not going anywhere you can reach them."

Ha-ri stood up abruptly, the pieces of her bow clattering softly onto the dusty ground. She didn't wait for the next exchange. Pushing the tent flap aside, she walked into the sterile white room.

Mi-jin blinked, adjusting to the sudden light and Ha-ri's appearance. Her expression was complicated—relief, shame, and that persistent, hollow look of exhaustion.

Ha-ri ignored the medic's subtle head shake. She walked right up to the bed.

"I'm right here," Ha-ri said, her voice even and steady. She didn't scold, didn't yell. She simply placed a hand on the thin blanket covering Mi-jin’s arm. "And I'm not leaving."

Mi-jin looked away, down at the blanket, a faint blush of embarrassment rising on her pale cheeks. The conversation about the pills was done for today.

Chapter 6: Goodnight💤🛌

A couple of weeks passed. The incident in the barracks was fading from a sharp, immediate crisis into a heavy memory. Mi-jin was back in her own bunk now, having been cleared from the medic tent. She was quieter, anchored to reality by Ha-ri's constant, silent vigilance.

The nights in the camp were the hardest—when the noise died down and the fears had space to grow.

It was close to midnight when the heavy canvas flap of the barracks shifted. Mi-jin looked up from where she lay staring at the tent ceiling. Ha-ri slipped inside, her silhouette visible against the dim lamp light filtering in from the common area.

Ha-ri didn't say anything. She had her small bag slung over her shoulder. She moved with quiet purpose to Mi-jin’s narrow cot, which was barely wider than a single-person bed.

She unrolled a spare, thin sleeping mat and tossed it onto the adjacent floor space. Mi-jin watched her, confused by the ritual.

"What are you doing?" Mi-jin whispered, propping herself up on one elbow.

Ha-ri looked at her then, her expression serious and settled. "I'm not leaving you alone now."

With that, Ha-ri slid into the cramped space of Mi-jin's cot, pulling the worn, scratchy blanket over both of them. It was a tight fit, their bodies pressing together out of necessity.

Mi-jin stiffened, surprised by the sudden intimacy and the unexpected permanence of the gesture.

"Ha-ri, you don't have to do this," Mi-jin started, her voice a mix of gratitude and discomfort. "I’m fine."

"You say you're fine," Ha-ri replied, her eyes closing as she settled in, getting comfortable in the awkward space. "But I know the dark gets loud in your head when you're alone. I've heard it in mine too."

She opened her eyes and met Mi-jin's gaze.

"I can’t lose you, Mi-jin. Not to them, and not to yourself." Ha-ri scooted closer, ensuring there was no space between their bodies. "So this is how it is now. I'm your anchor. If I'm here, you can't drift away."

Mi-jin looked at Ha-ri, who was already half-asleep, utterly committed to this new arrangement. A strange, warm feeling spread through Mi-jin’s chest, a different kind of safety than she had ever known. She relaxed against Ha-ri's side, pulling the blanket up higher.

"Okay," Mi-jin whispered. "Okay, Ha-ri. Goodnight."

She closed her eyes, and for the first time in weeks, the dark felt less like an abyss and more like a shared shelter.

 

Ha-ri watched Mi-jin sleep for another few seconds, soaking in the peaceful image of the girl who had been so close to slipping away forever.

Ha-ri felt an arm loosely wrap over her waist... her heart was warm. She wrapped her own arm around Mi-jin's shoulders, returning the quite sleepy cuddle. And held Mi-jin tight but not too much pressure on the hold. Just to know that she's right here.

The subtle tug of Mi-jin's sleepy embrace felt more honest than any words could be.

A soft, private smile touched Ha-ri's lips. She gently tightened her own arm around Mi-jin's waist, returning the embrace, and then moved with deliberate, tender care.

Ha-ri shifted her body slightly, gently guiding Mi-jin closer, settling her head fully and securely into the warm curve of Ha-ri's chest and shoulder. It was a natural fit. Ha-ri adjusted the blanket over both of them, cocooning them in warmth.

Mi-jin stirred slightly in her deep sleep, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she instinctively burrowed further into the warmth and scent of Ha-ri’s proximity. The gentle shift was one of pure comfort and safety.

Ha-ri closed her eyes after what felt like an hour of protective supervising, feeling the slow, even rhythm of Mi-jin’s breathing against her chest. She had promised to be Mi-jin's anchor, and here, in the quiet dark of the barracks, she was doing just that. Mi-jin was safe, warm, and anchored right beside her. Ha-ri felt a profound sense of peace as she drifted back to sleep, holding onto the one person she was determined to keep alive.

Chapter 7: ☀️"Morning"

The morning light filtered harshly through the reinforced plastic of the medic tent's high windows, cutting across the makeshift room and pooling on the cot where Ha-ri and Mi-jin slept.

Ha-ri woke first, as always, the athlete's instinct to be alert kicking in with the dawn. The first thing she registered was the weight of Mi-jin's head resting on her chest, the gentle rhythm of her breath, and the warm press of Mi-jin’s arm around her waist. They were tangled together in the narrow cot, safe and warm.

She carefully moved an arm, reaching up to gently run her fingers through Mi-jin's messy hair, pushing it from her forehead. Mi-jin looked peaceful, the deep lines of stress and grief that usually marked her face smoothed out in sleep.

Ha-ri stayed still for a few minutes, simply existing in the quiet domesticity of the moment, a stark contrast to the chaos of the world outside.

A few minutes later, Mi-jin began to stir. A small, drowsy groan escaped her lips before she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Ha-ri's face, very close, looking down at her with a gentle, soft expression Mi-jin had never seen before.

Mi-jin blinked a few times, adjusting to the light and the unexpected proximity to Ha-ri. She felt a warmth in her chest, a sense of peace that had been absent for a long time.

Ha-ri's eyes were open, watching her with an unreadable expression. Mi-jin offered a small, hesitant smile.

"Morning," Mi-jin whispered, her voice still thick with sleep.

"Morning," Ha-ri replied, her voice soft.

They lay there for a moment longer, the silence comfortable rather than awkward. The sounds of the camp outside began to filter in – distant voices, the clatter of supplies, the rumble of a generator. The world was still chaotic, still dangerous, but in this small space, for this brief moment, there was a sense of quiet and connection.

Chapter 8: Breakfast

It was midday in the camp's dining area—a large, open-air tent where survivors queued for their daily rations. The atmosphere was loud and bustling, a cacophony of voices and clattering metal trays. Ha-ri and Mi-jin found their usual spot at a slightly quieter corner table, each balancing a standard-issue aluminum tray loaded with a scoop of lukewarm rice, some mystery soup, and a small portion of processed chicken.

They ate in a companionable silence for a few minutes, a comfortable new routine. Ha-ri had already finished half her meal with the efficiency of an athlete needing fuel. She glanced across the table at Mi-jin.

Mi-jin had picked up her spoon and fork but seemed distracted. She had taken two or three small bites of rice and pushed the rest around her tray listlessly with her fork. The chicken was untouched, the soup growing a thin skin on top.

Ha-ri stopped eating and placed her fork down quietly.

"Not hungry?" Ha-ri asked, her voice low enough to be heard over the din, but only by Mi-jin.

Mi-jin started, looking up as if she’d forgotten Ha-ri was there. She quickly moved her fork, making a show of cutting into the chicken.

"No, I'm starving," Mi-jin lied poorly, avoiding eye contact. "Just... thinking about a few things."

Ha-ri raised an eyebrow. She knew a lie when she heard one. The incident two weeks ago was still fresh in her mind, and any sign of retreating behavior was a red flag she couldn't ignore. Ha-ri reached across the table, picked up Mi-jin's soup spoon, and scooped up a large mouthful of the liquid.

"What things?" Ha-ri pressed, her tone casual but her eyes firmly on Mi-jin's reaction.

"Just... school," Mi-jin mumbled, taking another microscopic bite of rice. "It's stupid. Just normal life stuff."

Ha-ri sighed internally. "It’s not stupid. But you need fuel for a normal life, or whatever version of it we have here."

She nudged Mi-jin's tray forward slightly. "Eat your chicken. If you don't want it, I'll take it, but you need protein, Mi-jin."

Mi-jin finally met Ha-ri’s eyes, a flicker of the old shame returning. "I just... I'm not really feeling it today, Ha-ri."

Ha-ri leaned in slightly, lowering her voice further. "I know it’s hard. I know the bad days still happen. But you promised you'd fight. Eating is fighting."

Mi-jin stared at the tray, then back at Ha-ri’s determined face. She picked up her fork again, letting out a small, quiet huff of air.

"Fine," Mi-jin relented, cutting off a piece of chicken. "But you're really bossy, you know that?"

A small, genuine smile finally appeared on Ha-ri's face as she went back to her own meal. "Yeah. I know."

Chapter 9: '"She's friendly." 🐈‍⬛️

Later that afternoon, after the lunch rush had died down, Ha-ri and Mi-jin decided to take a short walk around the perimeter of the camp, enjoying a rare moment of quiet away from the barracks. The sun was warm, a pleasant respite in an uncertain world. 

They were talking quietly about potential training schedules when Mi-jin suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Ha-ri followed her gaze.

Hiding behind a stack of unused supply crates was a small, scruffy grey tabby kitten. It was tiny, likely a survivor from the surrounding town, its wide eyes peering out cautiously. 

A soft sound escaped Mi-jin's lips, an instinctive, gentle coo Ha-ri had never heard before. Mi-jin’s entire posture softened instantly. Without a second thought for the dirt or the world ending, she carefully crouched down to eye level with the kitten.

"Well, look at you," Mi-jin whispered, holding out a hand slowly, palm up, in a non-threatening gesture. "Where did you come from?"

The kitten hesitated, then took a tentative step forward, drawn by Mi-jin’s calm energy. It sniffed her outstretched fingers and then, emboldened, rubbed its small head against her hand, letting out a tiny, rusty mew. 

A genuine, unreserved smile spread across Mi-jin’s face, brighter and more real than any Ha-ri had seen in weeks. The simple act of connection seemed to momentarily erase all the trauma and pain. Mi-jin began to gently stroke the kitten’s back, her touch careful and tender. 

Ha-ri watched from a few feet away, leaning against a crate with her arms crossed. The sight of Mi-jin completely engrossed in petting the tiny creature was a powerful one. It was a tangible sign of life, of softness, and of a desire for connection that went beyond survival instinct.

Mi-jin looked up at Ha-ri, her eyes shining with simple joy. "She’s friendly," Mi-jin said, her voice full of warmth.

Ha-ri simply smiled back, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Looks like we found a new recruit."

Chapter 10: A chance

Mi-jin continued to pet the little tabby kitten for another minute, completely captivated. The tiny creature, emboldened by the attention, was purring loudly, a soft rumble that Mi-jin could feel vibrate through its small body.

"We can't just leave her here," Mi-jin said, her tone firming with a new sense of purpose as she gently scooped the kitten up into her arms. The kitten immediately nestled against her chest, seeking warmth.

Ha-ri pushed off the crate she was leaning against, walking over to stand beside Mi-jin. The sight of Mi-jin, holding this fragile life with such care, made something warm settle in her chest.

"The military won't let us keep a stray in the barracks," Ha-ri pointed out, pragmatic as always, though her tone was gentle.

"They won't know," Mi-jin whispered conspiratorially, a playful light in her eyes that Ha-ri hadn't seen since before the outbreak. "We can hide her. Just feed her leftovers."

Ha-ri chuckled softly. "You plan on stealing from the mess hall now?"

"For her? Absolutely." Mi-jin looked down at the kitten, gently stroking its head.

"Okay," Ha-ri agreed, surprising herself with how quickly she caved. "But you are responsible for cleanup duty."

Mi-jin grinned, a genuine, wide smile that transformed her face. It was the most alive Ha-ri had seen her look in weeks.

As they started walking back toward the main camp area, Mi-jin cradling the kitten carefully, Ha-ri adjusted her stride to match Mi-jin's slower pace. A comfortable silence fell between them again, different from before. It was a silence filled with a quiet understanding and a shared, small joy.

"See?" Ha-ri said quietly, nudging Mi-jin gently with her elbow. "A chance."

Mi-jin looked up at Ha-ri, her eyes glistening slightly. "Yeah," she whispered, looking down at the kitten who had already fallen asleep in her arms. "A chance."

They continued walking, side-by-side, Mi-jin focusing on protecting the tiny life in her arms, Ha-ri focusing on protecting them both.

Chapter 11: "Duck" — Mijin name's the cat, and Feeds her..

Back in the quiet confines of the barracks later that evening, Mi-jin set up a makeshift eating station for their new arrival. She’d managed to snag a few choice leftovers from her own breakfast earlier that day—a small piece of the processed chicken, some of the lukewarm rice, and a little bit of the mystery soup—carefully hoarded in a salvaged plastic cup.

She found a shallow, dented tin can to use as a bowl and mixed the rice, soup, and shredded chicken together into a palatable (for a post-apocalyptic cat) mush. The kitten, which they decided to name something simple like "Duck," was already mewling with curiosity and hunger from Mi-jin’s lap.

Mi-jin gently placed the tin can on the floor. "Okay, Duck, dinner time. Hope you like camp rations."

The kitten didn't need a second invitation. It immediately pounced on the food, burying its face in the mixture and eating with frantic enthusiasm, its tail twitching with every bite. The small purring machine started up again, a sign of deep satisfaction.

Ha-ri watched from her own cot, leaning against the wall, a slight smile on her face.

"Looks like it’s a hit," Ha-ri noted.

Mi-jin giggled, a light, genuine sound that felt rare in the camp. "She's starving, the poor thing." She carefully tore off a smaller, cleaner piece of the chicken that hadn't been mixed with the rice and held it out with her fingers. The kitten immediately switched targets, delicately taking the piece from Mi-jin’s fingertips with surprising precision.

Mi-jin beamed with pride and happiness. Taking care of this little creature seemed to fill a void that food rations and medic tents couldn't touch. Ha-ri just continued to watch, content in the knowledge that this small act of feeding a stray cat was, in its own way, helping to feed Mi-jin’s own broken spirit.

Chapter 12: The Peaceful Morning.

The morning arrived gently. The noise of the camp slowly started up, but inside their quiet corner of the barracks, the only sound was the soft rumble of a sleeping kitten.

Ha-ri woke first, as was her habit. She lay still, blinking against the weak morning light that filtered through the tent. Her arm was wrapped around Mi-jin's waist, and she could feel the steady weight of Mi-jin’s head on her shoulder. The kitten, Duck, was sound asleep, a warm, fuzzy presence on Mi-jin's chest.

Ha-ri carefully shifted, trying not to disturb the others. She looked down at Mi-jin’s face, peaceful in slumber, a stark contrast to the haunted look she’d worn only a few weeks ago. The tiny presence of the cat seemed to absorb the lingering darkness.

A few minutes later, Duck stirred, stretching its tiny paws and letting out a high-pitched, chirpy mew. The small sound woke Mi-jin.

Mi-jin blinked open her eyes, smiling faintly as she became aware of the weight on her chest and Ha-ri’s arm around her.

"Morning, anchor," Mi-jin whispered, her voice husky with sleep, a playful nickname that acknowledged the shift in their dynamic.

Ha-ri chuckled softly. "Morning, sailor. Time to face whatever today brings to us."

She slowly extricated herself from the cot, careful not to jostle the cat too much. Duck seemed quite happy where she was.

"Are you going to feed our guest?" Ha-ri asked, pulling on her boots.

Mi-jin gently stroked the kitten’s fur. "Yeah, I'll find something. She's worth the extra effort."

Ha-ri nodded, a look of profound satisfaction on her face. Mi-jin looked genuinely happy, anchored not just by Ha-ri's presence, here, in their small, cramped corner, things were finally starting to feel a little more normal, a little more alive.

Chapter 13: 🌳 lil adventure

After a busy morning of camp chores and a quick breakfast, Mi-jin felt the familiar need to escape the noise and constant tension of the camp environment. The barracks, even after the morning clean, felt stuffy and crowded. She needed the silence of the woods.

She scooped up the little kitten, Duck, and carefully placed her into her small, salvaged backpack. She zipped the top almost all the way closed, leaving a gap just wide enough for the tiny cat to poke her head out and get air. Duck seemed perfectly content in her little moving den.

Mi-jin grabbed a bottle of water and quietly slipped out of the camp gate—making sure the guards saw her leave so they wouldn't worry—and headed down the familiar, quiet path into the tree line. The silence was instantly refreshing, a balm to her overstimulated senses.

Back at the camp, Ha-ri had just finished the tiresome chore of washing a load of clothes in the communal, hand-cranked washing machine. She wrung out the last shirt and draped it over the line, her mind already moving to her next task: finding Mi-jin for their afternoon archery practice.

She walked back to their barracks corner, but Mi-jin was nowhere to be found. Ha-ri paused, a flicker of concern crossing her features. Her eyes scanned the surrounding area, but there was no sign of the girl or the cat.

Ha-ri pulled her phone from her pocket—one of the few devices with power maintained by the camp generator—and saw a single, recent message icon. She opened the text from Mi-jin:

Hey. Headed to the woods for a bit. Need some silence. Don't worry, just getting some air. Back soon.

Ha-ri read the message, the subtle tension in her shoulders easing. She put the phone away, a small smile playing on her lips. "Need some silence," she murmured to herself. She understood that perfectly.

Ha-ri turned her attention back to the wash line, deciding to wait for her friend to return. The camp was a sanctuary, but the woods offered a quiet peace that was necessary for healing. She knew Mi-jin would be fine. Duck was with her.

Chapter 14: 🏞 peaceful silence.

Summary:

I think Mijin should've probably chose a different name for her cat tbh. But it's funny & cute. 😂🐈‍⬛️

Ha-ri finished hanging the last shirt on the line and decided to go for a quick run around the camp perimeter to burn off energy while waiting for Mi-jin to return. The camp was safe, the path was well-worn, and she trusted Mi-jin to stay within the boundaries they had discussed.

Meanwhile, in the woods, Mi-jin found a large, smooth rock overlooking a small stream and sat down, carefully taking the backpack off. She unzipped it completely, and Duck immediately hopped out, beginning to explore the immediate surroundings with the intense focus only a cat possesses.

Mi-jin leaned back against the rock, closing her eyes and letting the gentle rush of the water clear her mind. The silence was profound, broken only by the sound of the stream and Duck’s quiet little adventures nearby. The heavy weight that seemed to constantly sit on her chest finally felt lighter. For a few minutes, there were no zombies, no military oversight, no grief—just sunlight, fresh air, and the tiny cat chasing a leaf.

After about twenty minutes, Mi-jin checked her watch. She promised Ha-ri she wouldn't be long. She called Duck back over, coaxing her into the backpack with a piece of leftover chicken she’d brought along just in case. Duck happily obliged.

Back at the camp, Ha-ri returned from her run, slightly sweaty but refreshed. As she wiped her brow, she saw Mi-jin emerge from the gate guard post, the backpack situated comfortably on her shoulders, the little gray kitten's head bobbing happily as it peered over her shoulder.

Ha-ri met her halfway.

"How was the silence?" Ha-ri asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Mi-jin grinned, the healthy color back in her cheeks from the walk. "It was good. Duck says thank you for the chicken bribe."

"She better," Ha-ri said, falling into step beside Mi-jin as they headed back toward the barracks. "I might need that for archery practice later."

Mi-jin laughed, a sound that made Ha-ri smile. Everything felt normal.

"So, ready to get your butt kicked at the range?" Mi-jin challenged.

Ha-ri chuckled. "Bring it on. I'll even give you a head start."

They continued walking, side by side, the world feeling a little more manageable with fresh air, a silly cat, and a shared challenge ahead.

Chapter 15: Domestic Day.

Ha-ri and Mi-jin spent the next hour at the makeshift archery range set up in a large open field within the camp perimeter. True to her word, Ha-ri gave Mi-jin a quick refresher course and a head start, though her natural talent and steady hand quickly closed the gap. It was a fierce but friendly competition, filled with laughter and competitive banter, a healthy distraction from the heavy realities of their lives.

As the afternoon began to wane, they packed up the gear and headed back to their barracks. Duck had been left behind with a friend for safekeeping during archery. They walked back exhausted but energized.

That evening, the atmosphere in the camp changed slightly. A supply truck had arrived, bringing fresh hope and the promise of a somewhat better meal than the usual rations. The dining hall was buzzing with excitement.

Ha-ri and Mi-jin joined the long line, chatting about the day. "I totally beat you on that last round, admit it," Mi-jin teased.

"It was luck, and you know it," Ha-ri countered, rolling her eyes.

When they finally got their trays, the food was marginally better: real canned beans mixed with the usual rice and pork. They sat down at their corner table. As they ate, Mi-jin noticed a group of soldiers looking in their direction with subtle respect. Word of Ha-ri’s Olympic-level skills and their survival stories had clearly spread.

Ha-ri just focused on her food, ignoring the attention. Mi-jin smiled. Life here was difficult, fragile, but moments like these—quiet camaraderie, simple food, and a sense of shared purpose—were becoming the new normal.

After dinner, they collected Duck and returned to their bunk. They spent the evening quietly, Mi-jin sketching in a notebook and Ha-ri maintaining her equipment. When night fell, they slid into bed, a now comforting routine.

Mi-jin nestled into Ha-ri's side, and Duck found her spot on Mi-jin's chest. The silence settled, and the small family unit found peace in the darkness, ready to face whatever the next day in a fallen world might bring.

Notes:

Authors note: The Implied Suicide Attempt that is shown in the Additional Tags is only referred to the early chapters in the beginning of the fic. So don't worry about future chapters they will all be focused on healing and love, with possibly a few dramatic or emotional/comfort moments along the way.

Chapter 16: 🌃 "The Nightmare."

The calm didn't last. In the middle of the night, the peace of the barracks was shattered.

Mi-jin began to thrash in her sleep. Her peaceful expression morphed into one of terror, her breathing turning shallow and frantic. She was back there, in Hyosan High, seeing the faces of her dead friends, feeling the crush of the horde, smelling the metallic scent of blood and decay.

"No... get back... help me..." she whimpered, her movements growing more violent.

Ha-ri was instantly awake. The moment Mi-jin’s frantic motion disturbed the cot, Ha-ri knew exactly what was happening. This wasn't the first nightmare, but it was one of the worst she'd witnessed.

Duck, startled and confused by the sudden commotion, leaped off Mi-jin's chest with a small squeak and disappeared under the cot.

"Mi-jin! Mi-jin, wake up!" Ha-ri whispered fiercely, wrapping her arms around the struggling girl, trying to pin her gently without causing harm.

Mi-jin cried out, a strangled, terrified sound. She shoved Ha-ri with unexpected strength, trying to escape the horrors in her mind.

"It's just a dream! You're safe! I've got you!" Ha-ri tightened her hold, shifting her weight and using her strength to completely immobilize Mi-jin's arms and legs, forcing her into a tight, secure hold.

Mi-jin continued to fight for a moment, trapped in the physical and mental struggle. Tears leaked from her tightly shut eyes. Ha-ri held on, whispering assurances, her heart pounding.

Finally, Mi-jin’s eyes snapped open. She gasped, chest heaving, staring wildly into the darkness. She recognized Ha-ri's face hovering over her, felt the solid warmth of her arms. The reality of the quiet barracks slowly seeped in, pushing back the terrors of the school.

The fight drained out of her instantly. Ha-ri released her grip just enough so Mi-jin could move, and Mi-jin immediately buried her face in the crook of Ha-ri's neck, shaking with silent sobs.

Ha-ri stroked her hair, rocking her gently, her own body tense with adrenaline.

"It's okay," Ha-ri murmured into her ear, a constant refrain. "You're here. You're safe. We're here."

It took a long time for Mi-jin's breathing to even out, for the shaking to subside. Ha-ri held her the entire time, a living anchor against the tide of memory, until Mi-jin finally drifted back into an exhausted, fretful sleep.

Chapter 17: 🌄 "Back to Peace."

The next early sunrise brought golden light and warmth to the tent again. After breakfast, the group dispersed to their daily duties. Ha-ri and Mi-jin gathered their gear. Mi-jin carefully placed Duck into her backpack, zipping it partially open so the kitten could peek out.
"So, what's on the agenda today, coach?" Mi-jin asked, the lightness back in her voice.

"Target practice, then perimeter check," Ha-ri replied, a small smile on her face. "Need to keep our skills sharp."

They arrived at the range. Ha-ri set up the targets while Mi-jin placed the backpack carefully on a crate nearby. Duck watched their movements with intense, curious green eyes, safe from the arrows. As they began their practice, the rhythmic thwack of arrows hitting straw targets filled the air. Mi-jin's form was improving steadily, a testament to her dedication and Ha-ri's patient guidance.

Hours passed, filled with focused practice and occasional competitive banter. The sun climbed high in the sky, casting long shadows across the field. Exhausted but satisfied, they gathered their gear, Mi-jin securing Duck back in the bag as they headed toward the camp center.

As they walked, Mi-jin reached out and gently took Ha-ri's hand. Ha-ri was surprised, but squeezed back, a warm feeling spreading through her chest. They didn't need words; the simple gesture spoke volumes about the bond they shared, a bond that had grown into something deeper than friendship.
Back at the barracks, they cleaned up and prepared for the evening meal.

The day had been peaceful, a rare gift in their new world. As night fell, they settled into their shared cot, Duck finding her usual spot on Mi-jin's pillow. The quiet of the night descended, a tranquil end to a day of peace and quiet connection.

Chapter 18: ⚓️ "That's the Job."

Morning, Still Here

Morning arrived slowly, as if the world itself was being careful not to startle them.

Pale light filtered through the seams of the barracks tent, soft and honeyed, settling over the narrow cot where Mi-jin lay tangled in familiar warmth. She surfaced from sleep in fragments—not with panic this time, but with a dull heaviness, the kind that followed a night spent fighting memories.

The first thing she noticed was the sound.

Breathing.

Steady. Close. Real.

Mi-jin didn’t open her eyes right away. She stayed still, taking inventory the way Ha-ri had taught her—feeling the solid press of an arm around her waist, the rise and fall of Ha-ri’s chest against her back, the quiet weight of Duck curled into the space between her collarbone and pillow. The kitten’s tiny body vibrated with a soft purr, warm as a living heartbeat.

She was here.
She had stayed.

Mi-jin finally opened her eyes.

The nightmare clung to her like mist—faces half-remembered, screams already fading—but it no longer owned her body. Her limbs felt tired, not frantic. Heavy, not trapped.

Behind her, Ha-ri stirred.

She hadn’t truly been asleep. She rarely was after nights like that. The subtle change in Mi-jin’s breathing was enough.

“You’re awake,” Ha-ri murmured, voice low and rough with lack of rest.

Mi-jin nodded once, then realised Ha-ri couldn’t see her. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m… here.”

Ha-ri’s arm tightened—just slightly. Not a cage. A confirmation.

“Bad one?” Ha-ri asked.

Mi-jin hesitated. Then she exhaled.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “But… it passed.”

That mattered. They both knew it.

Ha-ri shifted carefully, propping herself up on one elbow so she could look at Mi-jin’s face. There was no panic in her expression now—only quiet assessment, the way an anchor checked the line after a storm.

Mi-jin met her gaze, expecting to see worry.

Instead, she saw relief.

“You did good,” Ha-ri said softly.

Mi-jin blinked. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You stayed,” Ha-ri replied. “That counts.”

Duck chose that moment to stretch dramatically, kneading at Mi-jin’s shirt with tiny paws before letting out a sleepy chirp. Mi-jin huffed out a small, surprised laugh—the sound still felt new to her in the mornings.

“Guess I woke her up,” Mi-jin murmured, scratching gently under the kitten’s chin.

Ha-ri watched the interaction like it was something fragile and precious. “She didn’t run far,” she said quietly. “Just under the cot. Came back once you calmed down.”

Mi-jin’s fingers paused for half a second. “I scared her.”

“No,” Ha-ri said immediately. “She came back.”

That landed deeper than Ha-ri probably intended.

Mi-jin swallowed, nodding. “Okay.”

They lay there for a few more minutes, letting the camp wake up around them—the distant clatter of supplies, muted voices, the low hum of generators starting their daily grind. The world moved on, as it always did.

Eventually, Mi-jin shifted, careful not to disturb Duck too much. “I might be a little slow today,” she said, not apologetic. Just honest.

Ha-ri nodded. “Then we go slow.”

She reached up and brushed a thumb lightly along Mi-jin’s sleeve—a small, grounding touch. “No rushing sailors after storms.”

Mi-jin smiled faintly at that, the phrase settling warmly in her chest.

“Thanks… for staying up,” she said.

Ha-ri shrugged, eyes soft. “That’s the job.”

Mi-jin turned slightly, just enough to tuck her forehead against Ha-ri’s collarbone. Not hiding. Choosing.

Outside, the morning fully claimed the camp.

Inside the cot, the night loosened its grip at last.

They were still here.

Chapter 19: Shoulder to Shoulder🫶🏼

Summary:

Hari's feelings. True feelings are catching her up.

The morning moved on in small, ordinary pieces.

After breakfast and the usual camp assignments were handed out, Ha-ri found herself walking beside Mi-jin without really thinking about it. They didn’t talk much—just the occasional comment about supplies or Duck’s habit of trying to escape the backpack—but their steps stayed matched, close enough that their shoulders brushed now and then.

It wasn’t until later, during a lull in the day, that it happened.

Ha-ri was at the range, tightening the string on her bow, when she glanced up and saw Mi-jin sitting on a nearby crate with Duck in her lap. Mi-jin was murmuring softly to the kitten, her fingers moving absently through grey fur as Duck kneaded contentedly, half-asleep in the sun.

Mi-jin smiled down at her.

Not the polite smile she gave others. Not the careful one she used when she was trying to reassure people she was “fine.”

This one was unconscious.

Ha-ri felt it then—a subtle shift, like her footing had changed without warning.

She straightened slowly, bow forgotten in her hands.

It wasn’t panic.
It wasn’t fear.

It was… warmth. A pull she hadn’t named before.

Ha-ri had protected people her whole life. Teammates. Friends. Family. That instinct was familiar, solid, easy to understand. But this—this wasn’t just about keeping Mi-jin alive anymore. It wasn’t just vigilance or responsibility.

She liked the sound of Mi-jin’s laugh when it slipped out unguarded.
She liked how Mi-jin leaned into her without asking.
She liked waking up and knowing exactly where Mi-jin was.

That realization settled quietly in her chest, heavy but not unpleasant.

Oh.

Ha-ri didn’t react. Didn’t frown. Didn’t pull away.

She just exhaled slowly and went back to adjusting her bow, as if she could tuck the thought away for later. There was no rush. No need to act on it.

Across the range, Mi-jin looked up suddenly, catching Ha-ri watching her.

Their eyes met.

For half a second, neither of them smiled.

Then Mi-jin tilted her head, curious. “You okay?”

Ha-ri nodded, a little slower than usual. “Yeah,” she said. And meant it. “Just… thinking.”

Mi-jin accepted that easily. She always did.

“Duck’s getting heavy,” Mi-jin added, shifting the kitten slightly.

Ha-ri crossed the distance without comment and crouched beside her. “Here,” she said, sliding a hand under Duck’s tiny body to help support the weight.

Their fingers brushed.

It was nothing. Barely a touch.

But Ha-ri felt it anyway.

Mi-jin glanced at her hand, then up at Ha-ri’s face, something unreadable flickering in her eyes before she looked away again. Neither of them moved their hands.

Duck purred louder, blissfully unaware.

Ha-ri let herself stay there, shoulder to shoulder, sharing the weight—of the kitten, of the moment, of the feeling she wasn’t ready to name out loud yet.

There was time.

And for now, that was enough.

Chapter 20: 💜 "What is this feeling?"

Summary:

Mijin's feelings.

Mi-jin didn’t realise it was happening at first.

She’d been like this for months—existing in the present, taking each day as it came, learning how to breathe again. Ha-ri had been part of that process from the beginning, steady and constant, like the ground under her feet. Mi-jin trusted her in a way that felt instinctive, unquestioned.

That was normal, she told herself.

But later that afternoon, when the camp settled into its quieter rhythm, Mi-jin found herself sitting alone on the steps outside the barracks, Duck curled up beside her thigh, watching Ha-ri across the yard.

Ha-ri was helping repair part of the perimeter fencing. Sleeves rolled up, movements efficient, focused. She listened more than she spoke, stepping in when needed, taking charge without ever raising her voice.

Mi-jin’s gaze lingered longer than she meant it to.

She wasn’t thinking about danger.
She wasn’t thinking about safety.

She was thinking about how Ha-ri always knew when to step closer—and when to give space. About the way she woke up in the middle of the night instantly, without complaint, without hesitation. About how her arms felt around Mi-jin after a nightmare—firm, grounding, real.

Mi-jin swallowed.

Something in her chest tightened, unfamiliar and soft all at once.

This wasn’t the sharp ache of grief she’d grown used to. It wasn’t panic or guilt or fear.

It was… affection. But heavier. Deeper.

She frowned slightly, confused by herself.

When did that change?

Mi-jin looked down at Duck, absently scratching under her chin. “I think I’m broken,” she whispered.

Duck responded by purring louder, stretching luxuriously against her leg.

Mi-jin huffed out a small laugh, then glanced back up—just in time to see Ha-ri look over and catch her staring.

Their eyes locked.

Mi-jin felt it immediately—the heat rushing to her face, the instinctive urge to look away. But she didn’t. Instead, she lifted a hand in a small, awkward wave.

Ha-ri smiled. Not the confident, competitive grin she wore at the range—but the softer one. The one meant only for Mi-jin.

Mi-jin’s breath caught.

Oh.

The realization didn’t crash into her. It didn’t scare her.

It settled.

She wasn’t just grateful.
She wasn’t just dependent.
She wasn’t confusing comfort for attachment.

She cared in a way that made her chest feel too full sometimes. In a way that made her want to stay close even when she didn’t need to be held.

Ha-ri looked away first, returning to the fence.

Mi-jin let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

She didn’t move. Didn’t chase the thought. Didn’t try to define it.

She just allowed herself to feel it.

Mijin felt these strange feelings before, back in the apocalypse... but these thoughts now are different, more honest and heavy. Sure she admired Hari, atleast that's what she thought back in the apocalypse... Just a cool, cocky, archer girl with a high extreme badass level. But these feelings are more than that, atleast now.

Later that evening, when they lay down in the cot, Mi-jin automatically turned toward Ha-ri, tucking herself into the familiar warmth. Ha-ri’s arm came around her without hesitation, protective but gentle.

Duck climbed onto Mi-jin’s shoulder, curling up near her neck.

Mi-jin stared into the dim canvas of the tent, heart steady but awake.

She didn’t know what this feeling would become.

But for the first time, she wasn’t afraid of it.

And that felt like healing too.