GB 3

Number 8 opened his eyes, realizing that dawn was about to break. Though the chief and vice-leader had a clock, Number 8 didn’t know how to read them and had no need to. He just had a vague sense of time based on how his body felt.

The first thing he did upon waking was to hurriedly crawl on his knees to the man to check if he was alive or dead.

Fortunately, the man seemed better than the night before. His breathing and expression looked more relaxed, which was reassuring.

However, he couldn’t let his guard down yet. Number 8 went outside again and gathered plenty of herbs good for reducing fever and preventing infection. They tasted truly disgusting, tormenting Number 8’s tongue that had tasted that sweetness yesterday, but he endured and mashed them up to feed to the man again.

It burned his mouth as if it were on fire and ice at the same time. Number 8 stuck out his round, pinkish tongue like a rabbit and panted.

As he was cooling his mouth by fanning it with his hand, suddenly the man’s hand twitched.

Number 8 held his breath and carefully observed the trembling white eyelids.

What color would his eyes be?

The adults he lived with all had different eye colors. The chief’s oldest sister had silver eyes. They weren’t originally that color, they said. They used to be golden like honey. Believe it or not, her eyes had changed to a metallic color ten years ago, and since then her eyesight had steadily worsened until she could barely see now.

The chief’s eyes were brown, and the vice-leader’s were navy. Number 3’s eyes were heterochromatic colors. It was common among young children. One eye brown, one eye blue. His own eyes were boringly the same brown on both sides.

So what color would the man’s eyes be? Though he looked young, he was clearly an adult, so would they be a single color?

And finally, the man’s eyelids opened.

But Number 8 couldn’t see the color of the man’s eyes. Not immediately.

In an instant, Number 8 found himself pinned under the man, his throat gripped in the man’s hand. Surprised, he couldn’t even make a choking sound. Having been taught to endure without a peep when adults punished him, he just went limp and waited for the man to release his hand.

“Haa, haa.”

The man’s eyes, as he breathed heavily, were a single color. Dark black eyes with a tinge of blue like the night sea. The man’s eyes were the deepest black Number 8 had ever seen.

Even with his throat being crushed, Number 8 stared blankly at the man. They were mesmerizing eyes.

The man looked at Number 8 with a confused expression. He didn’t seem to have regained his senses enough to grasp the situation yet.

Though his face was turning red from lack of air, Number 8 could hold out a bit longer. For Number 8, who went into the sea every day, holding his breath this much was nothing. More than that, he wanted to reach out. Just like when he found something he really liked underwater, even if it was when he needed to surface because he was about to run out of breath, Number 8 couldn’t give up. He reached out and touched the man’s eyelids.

“Ugh.”

The man flinched, closing his eyes tightly and moving his body to the side at the sudden approaching hand. Even so, he didn’t release the small throat he was gripping. Number 8 continued to fiddle with the man’s eyes even as he was truly gasping for breath.

The hand was very small. First, the man was startled by something carelessly approaching his eyes, and second, he was surprised by how small the hand was. This saved Number 8. The man, coming to his senses, realized he was reflexively choking a child and released his grip in shock. Only then did Number 8 clutch his throat and cough out the trapped air.

“What… a child?”

The man frowned. Number 8 shook his head while holding his throat and coughing roughly.

“I’m not a child.”

“You… are a child.”

The man’s face wrinkled further. His gaze fell on Number 8’s skinny body and worn-out clothes. Number 8, having regained his breath, emphasized in a clear voice:

“I earn my keep. So I’m not a child. Children are the ones who crawl around.”

Though he spoke quite proudly, the man didn’t seem to believe his words. Number 8 felt offended. He was as good at catching fish as the adults on this island. The man who had been pathetically collapsed on the shore shouldn’t look at him with such eyes of pity.

“First.”

The man, wiping his cheek, was surprised by the salty residue. Looking at the powdery substance rubbing off between his fingers, he muttered again in a hoarse voice.

“First of all, why am I here? I was certainly…”

The man trailed off, closing his mouth. Number 8 saw this as an opportunity to definitively prove his capability and puffed out his chest. The handprint was still visible on his exposed neck. The man’s gaze, naturally, fell on it.

“Because I picked you up.”

“…”

“Will you still call me a child after this?”

Number 8 said, boasting. But he wasn’t sure if the man was listening to him or not.

The man touched his forehead, bowed his head, and muttered something. Could he be crazy? If he was, that would be troublesome. The chief disliked people who couldn’t communicate. If the chief found out, his neck would be on the line.

As Number 8 cautiously approached with a pale face, the man suddenly lifted his head.

“The people who were with me. Where are they?”

Number 8’s eyes widened. The man acted as if Number 8 had somehow hidden those people away.

“I couldn’t bring those people,” Number 8 stammered.

“They weren’t alive… When I saw them, they were already dead. I can’t bring dead things. In case something bad spreads…”

The chief had said that carelessly bringing corpses could cause everyone to fall ill and die, so permission must always be obtained before bringing them. When corpses were brought, the chief’s sister would inspect them one by one, standing next to the chief who would cross his arms and glare. With her sense of smell that had developed in place of her lost eyesight.

So even though the buttons of the dead people were much prettier than the man’s, and even if they had other seemingly valuable things, Number 8 wouldn’t have brought them. When the corpse was human, not animal, even the possessions were subject to inspection.

“Dead…?”

Unlike Number 8, to whom death was an everyday occurrence and not a big deal, the man seemed quite shocked.

To Number 8, the man seemed much weaker than himself. It was clear that without protection and care, he would die soon. And that was obviously the responsibility of the one who had picked him up.

To comfort the man, Number 8 calmly told him what he had seen then. The man was startled for a moment but soon sat down slowly and listened quietly to Number 8. He occasionally asked questions. Thankfully, the man composed himself faster than expected, and Number 8 sighed in relief.

“So where is the ship?”

The man’s voice was very handsome. Enchanted by that voice, which sounded like a low song on a summer night, Number 8 spoke freely.

“It should still be on the beach because they need to dismantle it. They’ll strip off anything useful and drain any remaining fuel. The contents were probably all taken out yesterday, so if you go, you’ll only see an empty shell.”

Worried that the man might be disappointed, Number 8 fidgeted a little. He was quite tricky to deal with. Should he treat him like a baby? Having never met an outsider before, he really didn’t know.

But one thing was certain: the man, now awake and moving vividly, was more beautiful than anything Number 8 had ever seen in his life. Even the sunset that dyed the whole sky crimson every evening and eventually moved hearts with its pink hue couldn’t match the man.

“Is there anything you need?”

Number 8 asked casually. The man stared at him intently. His eagerness to gain favor, fidgeting like a puppy, clearly showed he was a child, and his indignation at being called a child made him seem even more childlike.

However, it was clear that this child had saved him, and given that he still hadn’t fully grasped the situation and didn’t know the location or characteristics of the residents, it seemed best to humor the child.

After thinking for a moment, the man slowly spoke.

“I’m curious about something other than objects.”

“Yes! Ask me anything!”

Number 8 responded enthusiastically, wanting to show that he was grown up and could be helpful in any way.

“First… how old are you?”

What… is that all you’re curious about?

Number 8 made a disappointed expression.

“I’m either eight, nine, or ten years old. I’m an adult, right?”

Eight, nine, or ten years old? The man had never heard of such an age or way of counting. He frowned.

Number 8, afraid of looking foolish, quickly added, 

“It’s not strange not to know your exact age! I’m not the only one, Big Brother Number 3 doesn’t know his age either.”

“Number 3…?”

The man’s face creased further. Number 8 grew more excited realizing how much the man didn’t know.

“Yes. When Big Brother Number 3 was four, five, or six years old, I came, so I’m eight, nine, or ten years old counting from then.”

“Wait… wait a minute.”

The man rubbed between his eyebrows and asked with a much darker expression.

“Is that your name? Number 3, Number 8?”

“When the chief allows us to board the ship, he gives us a name on our first voyage. I haven’t reached that time yet. Should I give you a number too?”

“Where do you sail to?”

He kept probing, not even responding to Number 8’s generous offer.

Number 8 felt a bit sulky but still answered obediently.

“Once a week. We go out and bring back things. Spoils. When we bring them back, they’re distributed.”

The man began to vaguely understand the nature of the island.

However, he couldn’t jump to conclusions. The child was tough and clever, but seemed innocent by worldly standards, so he couldn’t judge solely based on the child’s words.

As glaciers melted, 83 percent of the Earth’s surface became ocean. The near-simultaneous eruption of both land and underwater volcanoes followed shortly after. While humans struggled to adapt and prepare for a new era under years of terrifying darkness, thousands of islands disappeared and emerged, and continents shrank. Former deserts now had settlements, and unidentified populations lived on the remaining land over the sea. Not everyone living there could be classified as pirates.

Yet, this settlement didn’t even have names.

The man tried to ask gently, careful not to frighten the child too much.

“So you were born here?”

“No. I told you I was brought on a ship.”

The child looked a bit embarrassed as he said this.

Lowering his voice and glancing around, he whispered in a very small voice.

“The adults don’t tell us, but it seems that children are born on the ship…”

If so, it’s quite bitter that he’s a little, just a tiny bit, really just a teeny-tiny bit afraid of ships. After all, it’s where children are born.

It would be fine if the ship were stationary, but big ships are still frightening. The ship must have been still when the children were born, right? That thought eased his guilt a bit.

“……”

The man was silent even though Number 8 had revealed such important information. He must be very surprised that Number 8 knew such a secret. Number 8 felt his shoulders rising slightly as he added:

“I’m good at learning things on my own that adults don’t teach.”

It wasn’t right to tell the proud child that he was completely mistaken.

The man swallowed a sigh.

The “adults” the child spoke of would immediately recognize his identity upon seeing his appearance. Even if they were settlers, they would be quite wary, and if by chance this was a pirate island, they’d try to kill him right away. It might be different usually, but now, weaponless and severely injured, it was problematic.

As the man was about to ask more about these adults, starting with “So,” the child suddenly stood up.

“Oh, I, I’ve been here too long!”

The man might not have noticed, but Number 8 smelled the smoke coming from the distant village.

When smoke rose into the sky, it meant to extinguish the bonfires that had burned all night and prepare for the day. Especially today, with a scheduled departure when the sun was at its zenith, he had to be in the village without fail to see them off.

Number 8 flustered, his face showing severe panic.

“I, I’ll be back in a moment. I’ll bring more food when I return, so for now eat what I brought. You must stay put, okay?! You’re my spoils, so if others see you, they’ll covet…”

The chattering child suddenly shut his mouth.

It seems I’m this child’s spoils.

The man let out a wry laugh and nodded vaguely. At that, the child dashed out in a hurry.

The scorching sunlight poured over the child’s back as he left the tiny cave. The man frowned for a moment at something that bothered his eyes, but before he could examine the child’s shoulder blades closely, the small body instantly disappeared into the forest. He was truly quick.

After the child had completely vanished, the man rubbed his face.

“This is maddening.”

Then, slowly looking around the cave, he spotted the ‘food’ the child had mentioned.

An empty peach can, thin bread, and a discolored banana. Anyone could see it wasn’t a portion for an adult.

Did he bring his own share?

Though he had no appetite, he couldn’t refuse that goodwill. The man, who could survive three or four days without food if necessary, reached out and took it. As he carefully leaned forward, two dog tags and a small chip hanging from his neck glinted. The letters written on it: 윤무화.

Yoon Moo-hwa.

It was the man’s name.