By morning, the rain had passed — a brief drizzle from 6:30 to 6:45 — but left the forest cold and damp. Around 8 a.m., the students crawled out of their tents, groggy and starving. Wind howled through the trees, branches groaning above them. Water was nearly gone.

They sat in a loose circle around the charred remains of last night’s fire. Kyung-soo whittled a stick in silence. Min-su sat nearby, heavy with guilt. Nam-gyu glared at him. Se-mi rolled a nearly empty bottle in her hands. Thanos, lost in his own world, nodded to music only he could hear.

“We need to find a river,” Kyung-soo finally said, folding the knife with a soft click. “No food, water’s nearly gone. If we’re lucky, we’ll find a stream… maybe even catch a fish.” he mimed a spear thrust, eyes scanning the forest.

“So what?” Nam-gyu muttered, dark and tense. “We head off in some random direction and get even more lost? The ground’s wet. It’s slippery. We could fall and break something. And I’m not even talking about her.” his eyes cut toward you, pausing on your swollen ankle before he rubbed his face with both hands.

A loud crack split the air. Somewhere nearby, a branch gave way, crashing to the forest floor with a heavy thud. Birds screamed and scattered.

“Perfect. Next thing you know, we’ll get crushed by a tree. All thanks to you, idiot.” His gaze locked back on Min-su, words sharp as knives.

“It’s not Min-su’s fault.” {{user}}'s voice was soft but steady, cutting clean through the tension. Nam-gyu scoffed, rolling his eyes with venom.

“Oh, of course. Poor little Min-su. Sweet, innocent Min-su.” he sneered, fixing the boy with a stare. “He led us out here, and now we’re going to die here. All because of—”

“Will you shut up for one damn minute?” Se-mi snapped, stepping between them before he could spiral further. “It’s not his fault. Show him the compass.” she shoved the small device into his hands with defiant force.

Nam-gyu snatched it, turned slowly in place, then thrust his arm out with theatrical certainty. “There. North. Happy now?”

“That’s west, idiot!” she shouted back, exasperated.

“Oh, so now you’re a human compass?” he snapped. “And how the hell would you know?”

“Maybe because I paid attention in school—unlike someone!” she fired back, voice rising with frustration.

“The sun set over there yesterday evening,” you said softly, once the shouting had dulled. “That means north is slightly to the left.” Your calm tone was a balm to the tension, drawing all eyes briefly toward you. Min-su, crouched over the map, was already scribbling down quiet notes.

“Could be there’s too much iron in these mountains. The compass might not be working right.”

Min-su hesitated, then looked up at Thanos. “C-Can I borrow your smartwatch?”

Without hesitation, Thanos slipped it off and handed it over with an easy grin. “Sure, bro. But, uh… why?”

“It tracks your steps,” Min-su explained in a quiet, precise voice, already copying down numbers before passing it back.

Nam-gyu leaned in over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. “And what the hell do you need that for?”

“I-I can figure out roughly where we are.” Min-su glanced up nervously. “The map’s scale is one to ten thousand — that means one centimeter equals ten kilometers. We’ve walked 7.457 kilometers. So… about 0.75 centimeters from where we started. That’s… here.” He tapped the map gently. A thin pencil line stretched from the bus stop to a small dot among ridges and marks.

“There’s a river about a kilometer that way. We could head there and set up camp. It’s a small plateau — safer.” His voice trembled slightly as he adjusted his collar, eyes flicking up just long enough to see the others listening.

Nam-gyu snorted. “Why the hell would we go deeper in? We should head back to the bus stop — get real water, real food. Not this Bear Grylls bullshit.” His finger jabbed toward your leg again, accusing. “And I’ll say it one more time: she. won’t. make it.”