Chapter 9

　　Resting his face against his drawn-up knees, Number 8 nodded off.

　　When he woke again, it wasn’t the high tide tickling his toes or the warm sunlight pressing into his back that roused him. It was a noise echoing from the distance.

　　Blinking groggily, Number 8 thought he was hallucinating at first. But as he rubbed his eyes and squinted at the horizon, the illusion solidified. The massive silhouette of an approaching ship was growing sharper by the second.

　　His eyes widened, and he scrambled to his feet. The vessel was closing in fast, but its shape was entirely unfamiliar. Unsure if this was what the adults’ ships looked like, he bolted toward the village.

　　“W-where’s Number 3 hyung?” he panted.

　　The boss’s sister, who had stayed behind to watch the island, just shook her head.

　　Number 8 sprinted into the forest, making a beeline for the lake Number 3 liked so much. He found him there.

　　“Hyung! Hyung!” he shouted. “A ship is coming! Do you think it’s the adults?”

　　Swimming in the middle of the lake, Number 3 popped his head up and frantically scrambled out of the water.

　　He knew the adults wouldn’t return from sea this early. Still, figuring they might have scored a massive haul or hit some special stroke of luck to come back so soon, he sprinted to the beach with Number 8 trailing behind.

　　By the time they reached the shore, the vessel was already looming close to the island.

　　Number 3 shielded his eyes, squinting against the glare. “I can’t tell,” he muttered.

　　He didn’t mean he couldn’t tell if it was their ship—he meant he had absolutely no idea what kind of ship it was at all.

　　Number 8 stared, wide-eyed, at the growing silhouette. It was… massive. It dwarfed the abandoned wreck where he had found the man—his first and only souvenir—, and it looked far larger than any of the adults’ boats. The two boys exchanged a look. Seeing the same trembling fear in each other’s eyes, they spun around and bolted back to the village.

　　“A ship is here!” Number 3 yelled. “But it’s not ours! It’s huge! It even has a flag!”

　　The boss’s sister jumped to her feet. Jamming her fingers into her mouth, she blew a piercing whistle. Instantly, the remaining villagers rushed out of their shacks and scattered into the trees.

　　“You two go hide!” she barked. “Don’t come out until I say so!”

　　Driven by her frantic shouting, the boys scrambled toward their respective hideouts. Number 8’s safe haven was, naturally, the cave where he had kept the man.

　　The deep, churning hum of the ship’s engines grew deafeningly close. Number 8’s heart pounded against his ribs. The adults had warned them over and over to beware of any ships or people outside their so-called “family.”

　　That fear had been drilled into him since childhood, ballooning to the point where anything unfamiliar morphed into a terrifying monster in his mind. And the thing bearing down on the island right now didn’t have any shiny buttons, nor was it lying helpless and alone on the shore. It was just a hulking beast—one that couldn’t be picked up or saved.

　　Number 8 curled into a tight ball deep inside the cave, shivering. In the gloom, he spotted an empty tin can. A line of ants marched in and out of it, desperate to lick up the last sticky drops of sweetness.

　　To stave off his mounting panic, he locked his eyes on the tiny procession, enduring the agonizing wait alone.

　　It wouldn’t be this scary if that man were here, he thought. He didn’t seem to know where to hide in times like this. I could teach him… I could even give him a name.

　　Hiding here had been a good idea. Thinking about the man he’d lost brought on a wave of loneliness that completely eclipsed his fear. It was a heavy, suffocating ache, as massive as the man himself, who was easily two or three times his size.

　　Losing track of time, Number 8 stayed huddled in the dark until the ants finally stopped coming.

　　When is it safe to go out? Could it just be a passing ship? Where are Number 3 hyung and the others? How did they know to show up when the boss was gone?

　　With no one to answer him, his imagination ran wild. He clung to desperately useless fantasies, anything to escape the terrifying reality closing in outside.

　　What if I have a bushy beard like the boss by the time I finally go back out? If it’s a passing ship, where is it heading? Number 3 hyung and the adults haven’t already forgotten about me and started eating dinner, have they? If it’s a new ship the boss brought back, what will he name it?

　　The boss always insisted that ships had to be named after women. Whenever he brought it up, his sister would scoff and ask if he still believed in such outdated superstitions. After passionately arguing that a ship wouldn’t sink if it carried a woman’s name, the boss had given his boat a name Number 8 had never heard before in his life. What was it again…?

　　No matter how hard he racked his brain, the name wouldn’t come, and there was a limit to how long he could force his imagination to distract him. Number 8 looked toward the darkening cave entrance and dropped his gaze.

　　I can’t be the only one left alive…

　　He hated that thought. He prayed it wasn’t true.

　　His nose twitched, and he firmly pinched the bridge of it as it began to sting. He couldn’t cry again. He wasn’t even hurt.

　　But the heavy, absolute silence was too overwhelming. He nudged the dirt with his toes before finally uncurling his stiff, numb body and crawling forward. He reached for the empty tin can. Grabbing it, he peered through the hollow cylinder, raising and lowering it over his eye like a makeshift telescope.

　　Raise it, and his vision went pitch black. Lower it, and he saw the dim cave. Cover, pitch black.

　　Lower, cave. He repeated the motion over and over. Raise and cover, pitch black. He lowered it…

　　“Ah. You were here after all.”

　　Lower…

　　Number 8’s lips parted slowly at the sight before him. His mouth fell open, all the strength draining from his jaw.

　　“I came to keep my promise.”

　　He was wearing black clothes, just like when Number 8 had first found him, but unlike back then, the man standing in the cave entrance was strapped with all sorts of heavy tactical gear.

　　Cover, pitch black. Lower, darkness.

　　The man, as pitch-black as the shadows themselves, pulled down the mask covering the lower half of his face. Even if he hadn’t, Number 8 would have known exactly who it was just from that deep, familiar voice.

　　“Don’t tell me you forgot about me already.”

　　The person standing there had a slightly stiff smile, as if the expression was unfamiliar and hard to reproduce for him, making him undeniably his souvenir. His man.

　　“H-how—no, why are you here?”

　　“Because I said we’d leave on a ship together.”

　　Answering breezily, Muhwa ducked low and stepped into the cave. He glanced at the tin can in Number 8’s hand. He could have easily asked why the kid was clutching a piece of trash, but instead, Muhwa simply scooped the boy up into his arms without a word. Number 8 didn’t even get a chance to drop the empty can.

　　“Do you still want to?” Muhwa asked. “Go on a ship. With me.”

　　His blunt tone and stilted phrasing made it glaringly obvious how awkward he was around kids. Finding his own clumsiness a bit funny, Muhwa let out a soft chuckle.

　　All the while, the boy didn’t take his eyes off the man’s face for a single second. He stared intently, as if looking at the sun for the first time in his life. It was honestly a little embarrassing.

　　“Did you come with the other adults?” Number 8 asked.

　　“If you mean your boss, no. If you mean other adults in general, then yes. I did.”

　　The village had already been secured. The adults who knew about the pirate operations and contributed to them had been detained, while the children, including Number 3, had been moved to the dining hall. Only after everything was sorted out did Muhwa come to get Number 8.

　　He’d had a feeling he knew where the boy would be from the start, and his guess had been spot on. With the armed conflict over, Muhwa leisurely made his way across the now-quiet island and reached the beach. He boarded the last remaining speedboat, keeping Number 8 securely tucked in his arms the entire time.

　　“Don’t be disappointed just because it’s a small boat,” he murmured.

　　Number 8 wasn’t disappointed at all. He was just intimidated because there was another man on the boat besides Muhwa. He was a little scared of the stranger decked out entirely in black tactical gear, his face covered so thoroughly that even his eyes were barely visible. Ultimately, the size of the ship didn’t matter to Number 8. All that mattered was that Muhwa had come back alive.

　　But Number 8 soon forgot all about the ship’s size not mattering. Before long, a silhouette as massive as an island began to loom right before his eyes.

　　“I-is that a ship?” he stammered.

　　“Yeah. Did you really think this little dinghy was the ship we were taking?”

　　Tapping the floor of the rubber boat with his boot, Muhwa laughed. He slowly killed the engine, reached out with a boat hook, and snagged the rope ladder hanging down from the hull. Catching the eye of the Lieutenant who had accompanied him, he lifted Number 8 up onto the first rung.

　　“It’s pretty high, so don’t look down. You can climb, right?”

　　It was a bit dangerous, but out here, the only other way to board was by helicopter from the mainland.

　　Fortunately, Number 8—who had been scrambling up giant mangroves since he was little—was quick.

　　“It’s okay if I fall in,” the boy called down. “I can swim.”

　　“No. That would be a problem for me.”

　　This wasn’t the shallow coast. This was the open sea. Muhwa smiled faintly and climbed up right behind him.

　　When they finally hauled themselves over the railing onto the deck, Number 8’s mouth fell open.

　　“Is this the ship you said we’d take? We’re riding something t-this big?”

　　Muhwa usually commanded ships far larger than this destroyer, but he just gave a calm nod. “Yeah.”

　　Stepping up beside him, Muhwa covered Number 8’s ears and gently tucked the boy against his side. It might have looked like he was just letting the kid lean on him, but his real goal was to muffle any unwanted noise—like the shouts of the captured pirates locked in the holding cells.

　　Of course, considering the immense, thrumming roar of the ship’s engines, the chances of hearing those shouts were already slim to none.

　　Number 8 seemed to find the hold a little stifling. As the boy squirmed, trying to duck out from under his palms, Muhwa lifted his hands slightly.

　　“What’s wrong? Too stuffy?”

　　“N-no.”

　　Number 8’s cheeks flushed.

　　It wasn’t stuffy at all; it was just awkward and ticklish.

　　Especially where those large, warm palms pressed against his ears. It was probably just the friction against his hair. Having zero immunity to the touch and body heat of another person, Number 8 felt overwhelmingly shy. But, terrified the man would let him go if he complained, he mumbled in a tiny voice that he was fine.

　　“When the ship gets moving, it’ll take some getting used to,” Muhwa warned gently. “You might even get seasick.”

　　“Doesn’t it just bob along? Like when you’re swimming?”

　　Muhwa just shook his head, guiding the boy toward his officer’s quarters.

　　Once they moved deeper into the ship’s interior, the narrow corridors made it impossible to carry him. Setting Number 8 down, Muhwa ducked his head. The steel passageway was a bit too cramped for someone well over six feet tall.

　　“Make way!”

　　“Make way!”

　　Number 8 was trailing behind, gripping the hand Muhwa had reached back for him, when his eyes widened at the loud, booming shouts ahead. Poking his head out from behind Muhwa’s leg, he saw huge, intimidating adults pressing themselves flat against the bulkheads to let them pass.