After breakfast, everyone retreated to their rooms to pack. Naea and Yumi were in their room, where Naea organized her belongings with mechanical precision—as if she were trying to lock away her shattered emotions. On the other side, Akira was alone in her room. The space was filled with the same heavy silence and lifeless furniture. She opened her bag, but she just stood there; her gaze fell on the bed—the one Yamato and Yumi had used the night before. Looking at that bed didn't trigger any old memories or pain, because she simply didn't want to think about anything anymore. She worked like a robot, packing her clothes and essentials without a thought as to what she was doing. No tears, no feelings—just a numb silence, as if she had completely cut herself off from her own life.
Once packing was finished, they met in the lobby and set out on the trek. The path was difficult, filled with rocks and dust. Akira stayed in the lead, walking with that same numbness. When they reached a steep incline, Naea's foot slipped, and she fell to the ground, leaving a strange silence in the air. "Naea!" Yamato and Yumi cried out. Naea's ankle was twisted, and she groaned in pain. Kenji stepped forward immediately and lifted her into his arms. Naea closed her eyes in agony and rested her head on his shoulder. Akira stood there, her eyes filled with a trace of moisture and jealousy; there was no anger—only a deep, hollow silence. When she saw Kenji lifting Naea, a glimmer of pain struck a corner of her mind, but she was so exhausted that she stopped feeling it. Her decision to grant Naea "freedom" had become a wall of her own making, beyond which she couldn't think. Without looking back, she tightened her backpack and moved forward, as if erasing an old picture from her mind.
After reaching the campsite, the fatigue and tension were at their peak. Yamato, bearing the burden of being the group leader, made a decision that he stated clearly in front of everyone: since Naea was now Kenji's fiancée, they needed time together. Thus, Yamato arranged the tents so that Naea and Kenji would share one, while Yumi and Akira would share the other. For Akira, this decision was like adding fuel to a fire, but she didn't complain. She quietly took her belongings to her tent. Naea, whose foot was still trembling with pain, was lovingly carried to their tent by Kenji. As soon as they entered, their soft voices and Kenji's worried tone echoed in Akira's ears.
Inside the tent, Akira and Yumi were silent. Yumi glanced at Akira, her eyes full of questions, but Akira kept her eyes closed. She didn't want to feel anything anymore. The sounds from outside—Kenji and Naea being together—were breaking Akira from the inside. Loving someone so deeply only to be pushed away by them was no less than death. It was tearing her apart, but she remained hidden behind her self-imposed wall. Kenji was tending to Naea inside their tent, dressing her ankle, and Naea, who was still trying to control her emotions, silently accepted his help. Outside, Yamato was starting a fire, his gaze occasionally drifting toward Akira's tent, perhaps realizing the weight of his decision.
The reality was that Yamato's tent arrangement wasn't just "logical"—it was Naea's calculated plan. Back at the resort, Naea had told Yamato clearly that she and Kenji should share a tent. She knew the effect it would have on Akira; she was pushing Akira far away from her—forcing them to be completely separated. Inside the tent, the atmosphere was exactly as Naea had intended. Kenji, deeply concerned for her injury, kept talking to her, trying to make her laugh. Naea's laughter, which sounded forced, drifted through the thin tent fabric to Akira's ears. Every word Kenji spoke was like a wound to Akira.
Akira, sitting with Yumi, clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. She sat like a corpse, but a volcano was ready to erupt within her. She realized that Naea's move wasn't just "freedom"—it was a punishment for her. Yumi looked at Akira, her silence unsettling. Yumi asked softly, "Akira, are you okay?" but Akira didn't respond. She just listened to Kenji saying as he bandaged Naea's ankle, "I'm here, don't worry." Naea had done all this so Akira could see with her own eyes that the "freedom" she had asked for was now a reality. Naea was also in pain inside, but she wore her mask so firmly that even Kenji couldn't fathom her true suffering. For Akira, this wasn't just a camping trip; it was a living battle with her own jealousy.
When Naea's pain flared up, Akira took the medical kit she had prepared from her bag. Her fingers lingered on the pain-relief spray—the one that could have eased Naea's pain. But Akira didn't give it to her herself. There was an eerie numbness in her eyes; she handed the spray to Yumi. "Give this to her," Akira said in a voice so cold and hollow that Yumi hesitated for a moment. Akira didn't even look at Naea, as if she didn't exist.
Yumi took the spray and went to Naea's tent. When Naea asked who sent it, Yumi simply said, "Akira gave it." Naea's hand trembled slightly as she held the bottle. She knew this was just another "excuse" for Akira to distance herself. Three or four hours later, the spray took effect, and Naea found significant relief. She could move her foot, and the stinging pain had dulled. Inside the tent, Akira heard everything. She had given the spray, but now she didn't want to be the one to claim credit for that relief. She just remained silent in her numb world. Kenji, sitting beside Naea, said happily, "Thank goodness, Naea! You're feeling much better now."
Naea's laughter drifted past the tent walls to Akira's ears, and Akira covered her ears with her hands. Naea getting better wasn't a relief for her, but a harsh reality telling her that she was no longer needed. She looked at Yumi, who had returned to their tent, and without a word, crawled into her sleeping bag. For Akira, that spray wasn't just medicine; she had packed away her own "care" and sent it off with a formal, emotional distance.
It was the dead of night, and the campfire flames were dancing in the darkness. Yamato, Yumi, Kenji, and Naea were all sitting around the fire. Naea's foot was better, though she was still walking with a slight limp. Inside her tent, Akira lay with her eyes closed, pretending to be fast asleep, but her mind was wide awake. The voices from outside echoed in her ears.
"You showed a lot of courage today, Naea," Kenji said in a soft, loving voice. "I was terrified when you fell." "I'm fine, Kenji. It was just a small injury," Naea replied, with the same composure that stung Akira the most. Yamato interjected, "It was lucky Akira had the first-aid kit. That spray really helped." A moment of silence followed. Akira held her breath inside the tent. Naea said softly after a while, "Yes... I am grateful to her."
That word—grateful. For Akira, it was nothing short of an insult. The person she considered her whole world had now become a "grateful stranger." Kenji leaned toward Naea and whispered something, making her let out a soft laugh. That laughter pierced Akira's heart like a dagger. Akira clutched her chest. She was "acting" asleep, but a tear slipped from the corner of her eye onto the pillow. The outside world was so peaceful, yet she was fighting a massive war inside. She had thought she would detach herself, but every smile of Naea's, now directed at Kenji, was breaking her numbness.
The scene around the bonfire had become quite lively. Everyone was laughing, cooking, and enjoying themselves, their conversation flowing endlessly. In that atmosphere, the intimacy between Kenji and Naea was even more apparent, which was nothing short of torture for Akira behind the tent walls. Yumi, sensing Akira's silence and pain, scooped some food onto a plate. In front of everyone, she said clearly, "I'm taking food for Akira; she might be hungry." Yamato nodded in agreement, while Naea looked down for a moment, as if trying to hide from the fact that Akira wasn't there. Yumi walked toward the tent with the food.
Reaching the tent, Yumi called out softly. Akira continued her "sleeping drama," but Yumi knew she was awake. She gently shook Akira, "Akira, wake up... eat something, you haven't eaten all day." Akira opened her eyes with great difficulty, as if waking from deep sleep. She let out a fake yawn and sat up. Yumi placed the food in front of her and rested a hand on her head, "Don't come outside, eat here. I understand."
Akira picked up the spoon, but her mind was still on the voices outside—the laughter, the talk, and the realization that Naea was no longer hers. She took a bite, but her throat tightened. The food was just a formality; her heart was still struggling by the fire outside. Yumi didn't ask her anything, just sat there waiting for her to finish. Akira felt her loneliness deepening, because the "freedom" she had wanted had now become a cage.
Yumi had discouraged her from coming outside because she understood that something must have happened between them the previous night, which was why Akira was angry with Naea—hence why she hadn't given the spray herself or come to see her. At this point, Yumi only knew that Akira and Naea were good friends—just friends.
When Yumi returned to the campfire, the atmosphere was even warmer. Naea and Kenji were talking, and Yamato was tending to everyone. Yumi said, "Akira is asleep; she was quite tired." Naea looked toward Yumi for a moment, a strange pain emerging in her eyes, but she immediately wore that "perfect engagement" mask. She knew why Akira hadn't come out, and Yumi saying "she is asleep" was another wound for Naea—one she couldn't show.
Inside the tent, Akira had left the food untouched. She hadn't even moved the spoon. She was listening to their laughter and talk from behind the tent fabric. When Yumi said, "Akira is asleep," Akira felt a strange irritation. It seemed everyone thought she was just an "angry friend," while she was breaking apart inside. She closed her eyes and curled into the corner of the tent. Their laughter became even more piercing. She told herself—"Just a few more hours, everything will be over by morning." But would it really be over?
As the night deepened, the campfire flickered out and silence descended upon the campsite; the group retired to their respective tents—Naea and Kenji in one, Akira and Yumi in another, and Yamato alone in his. Once she was certain everyone was fast asleep, Akira quietly slipped out, seeking refuge in the solitude of the open air. She sat by the edge of the campsite, clutching a cigarette she had discovered in their resort room—a pack Yamato had carelessly left behind in his haste, which she had kept, neither returning nor discarding. With a steady hand, she flicked a lighter, the flame illuminating her face for a split second before she inhaled, letting the smoke drift up toward the vast, dark sky. Meanwhile, Naea, restless and unable to find sleep, wrapped a shawl tightly around her shoulders and stepped out into the night. Her eyes immediately locked onto Akira, and a surge of intense, simmering anger flared within her. Akira, sensing a presence, turned her head, and for a lingering, heavy moment, they were caught in an intense, electrified eye contact that spoke volumes of their unspoken pain. Without uttering a word, Naea marched toward her, snatched the burning cigarette from Akira's fingers, and ground it into the dirt beneath her heel before turning to storm away. "Dr. Naea, what is this behavior?" Akira called out, her voice laced with bitterness, "Can't someone even exist in peace anymore?" Naea stopped, her back still toward her, and retorted coldly, "If this is what you call peace, then you are better off living without it." With that final, cutting remark, she turned and retreated into her tent, leaving Akira alone in the suffocating silence of the night.