Haeok shuddered- The ocean wind was cold and unrelenting, piercing easily through the thinness of his hanbok from where he sat on the deck of the ship. Vaguely, he noted this- he should buy new clothes with his first wages, if he was working so close to the ocean. It was exciting, at first. He was going to go to school in Japan- for someone who would have had to stop attending his village school the next year, he knew he wasn’t the kind of person who came across an opportunity like that with ease. In anticipation, Haeok had packed a bundle of clothes and socks- And! Today was the first day he’d seen the ocean, and it was just so vast. Maybe he was dumb, but- Haeok just hadn’t realized just how far it spread until he’d seen it from Busan port, how endless… How big the world must be. Now, on the boat, with the port of Busan far from sight, and Japan yet to be spotted… The thrumming of anticipation in his veins had long since turned to lead-heavy dread, and the enormity of this new world pressed against his skull. He was so far from Daegu, the largest city he had seen before today- And with every second, ever further from Mom, Jungok, Suok, Dad… Haeok sat up a little straighter, though his knees still shivered, held close to his chest. The dark waters beneath lapped against the brow of the ship, the rusted metal rails that surrounded the end of the brow dripping with sea. Gray clouds competed with the wine-dark waters for space against the horizon. Through the wet hair that obscured his vision, Haeok watched the slick railing rise up and down, below then above the horizon, as the ship plowed forward. He chewed on his lip, tasted the salt. This was for them, he could do this for them- He wasn’t a child, he knew what it meant to work. Five years wasn’t long- Haeok had lived for three times that. It would be over sooner than he thought, and when he returned home he’d return a man, with the knowledge that what he had done had been for his family, and that it had worked- That they had been well, in his absence, because of his work. The taste of salt sat heavy on his tongue. — Of the near thousand of them who had arrived from the ship in Shimonoseki earlier that day, around three hundred of them had been separated and pushed onto a train, Haeok among them. They were rushed off the train at another port- (Nagasaki, the man next to him had told them, tall enough to read the kanji of a passing sign). From there, another boat. Had they recruited too many? Were they being returned to Korea? The whispers drifted through the group- they would be taken for railway construction on the peninsula. Haeok trudged forward, exhausted, below the deck with the rest of the group. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept, and with the claws of mounting hunger dragging against his stomach, he closed his eyes, and- The latch swung open, light poured through. They had arrived? His thin arms pulled his body up, out of the space below the deck, and- Grey walls, that’s all it was. Insurmountable gray walls, like a fortress which loomed over Haeok as he stood on the dock. His eyes strained against the sun as he looked up, and saw the buildings of weathered concrete even taller than the walls that surrounded them. Vertigo. An island walled in concrete, and the all-consuming ocean, nothing but ocean, all around it. Haeok gulped. Where was he? He struggled to see from behind the taller men and boys who stood on the dock, having exited before him. What was there to work on this island of concrete? - The familiarity of his descent into the mine didn’t make it any less terrifying. Haeok was pressed into the corner of the decrepit elevator, along with twenty of his fellow miners as it descended ever deeper down the narrow shaft. The contraption shuddered as it went, and although it hadn’t happened yet, Haeok wouldn’t be shocked if the dreaded thing fell off its wires one day and sent them all plummeting into the abyss below. It might be a more preferable way to die. Red spirals swirled against his eyelids as they squeezed shut. He was one of the younger Koreans brought to the island, most being men in their early twenties. Some of them talked as they dropped further and further. it was one of their few still moments, despite the conditions, one of the few consistent few waking minutes where they were not at labor. Honestly though, Haeok didn’t think he could have brought himself to speak even if he had known what to say. His hands were too busy grasping what he could of the shuddering wall he stood against to be aware of even the topic of conversation. He breathed in small, hoarse pants, thankfully hidden by the groaning metal that leveraged their descent. Haeok knew they had reached near the bottom by the increase in temperature, which couldn’t nearly be explained by the way they were all packed together inside of that cage. Sweat matted the hair against his forehead before they even reached the mine. His lungs remained painfully compressed, knotted together roughly by some unseen rope. He bit his lower lip. The door opened. Eyes at the shoulders of those in front of him as they were pushed forward, his steps were heavy even as they hastened through the main chamber, which opened before Haeok into a vast, domed ceiling of black rock. From there it was down, down deeper and further into the network of mine shafts that pushed as close to the ocean as the greed of the company dared. — Here, where Haeok trembled as he crouched, the rock was not five inches above him, even less to his sides. The darkness was all-encompassing- only shades of blackness against the rocks. Slowly, minutes apart, salt water dripped onto his folded frame. In. Out. Mouth open, gasping like a fish out of water, he struggled to breathe. Slowly, Haeok lifted the pickaxe, thin arms shaking with the weight of it, and let it fall before him. With the way that he crouched, shins on the cave floor and abdomen folded over his knees, rocky shards flew against his head as metal fell harshly on the rock before him. Cold walls pressed against his sides as he shuffled forward. His chest, caged, shuddered as it inhaled. exhaled. Drip. Drip. Salt like nails against his back, cold sting sharp as acid, an itch he couldn’t scratch. Then- he felt it. The ground moved below him- a trembling, and then a rumbling from above- It collapsed, it’s collapsing, I’m trapped, going to die, I’m- Louder, nearer. It was all enveloping, all he could feel. The raw stone that encased him convulsed, threw him against the narrow walls like dried rice in a box. The roughness of it scraped him raw, Haeok was sure he bled- Iron, Salt. A drop against his back. He heaved, thrashed. The rope binding his lungs tightened, chafed. Something heavy hit his head, threw it against the floor- next to him, a rock clattered to the ground. His vision fuzzed. He was warm, slow. Heavy. I’m dying, I’m- “AH-” Haeok falls abruptly into consciousness, inhaling a painful gasp. Pupils blown wide, he stares at the ceiling above him as it begins to come into focus. His breathing is heavy as he pulls himself up into a sitting position, legs crossed, back hunched and head in his hands. Inhales, exhales. He hears the gentle rustling of the leaves outside, smells something warm over the fire. Through the cracks between his fingers, the creeping light before dawn brightens the shadows in the room. The door to his room creaks, beginning to slide open. Startling slightly, Haeok lifts his head, composing himself into a more alert position. He looks to the door. It is Suok’s head that peers through the doorway, round face puffy and hair matted by sleep. “’Morning Oppa,” she whispers, voice thick. “Morning,” he responds, willing his voice steady. “Unnie’s got food ready when you come out,” she slurs, yawning. Haeok smiles, fond. Even as a baby, Suok had always been the last to rise- and though she might have gotten up, she's clearly still far from awake. “Okay. Tell her I’m coming,” he says, standing. He shivers with the early morning cold. Blearily, Suok nods, and trudges out of sight. He’s still for a moment longer, arms pressed tightly against his sides, facing the door. Through a grimace, Haeok slips on the clothes from the day before, dust-soaked as they are- though, he thinks, they might help Jungok bargain down. After making some attempt to wipe the dust off, he walks into the main room. Suok’s slumped figure is sitting curled around her food while Jungok scurries around the room, moving wicker bags next to the entrance. Hurriedly, she adds another cup of water and pair of chopsticks to the table, beckoning Haeok to sit. “East quickly,” she hastens, already slipping on her sandals. “We should get there early, before they raise the prices too high.” She walks out of the house, voiced raised to say “I’ll be back in a moment, and then we’re leaving!” Haeok watches his sister leave, before sitting to eat. Suok finishes her meal across from him. “What’s she doing?” He asks her, taking a bite of the cracked barley. “Hmm?” Groggily, Suok looks up. “Oh, she’s getting the chickens, to sell.” "All of them?" "Hm, think so," She affirms, tucking into her shigeumchi and barley. Lips pursed, Haeok look back towards the door. The land, the house, none of it belonged to them anymore, but the chickens were Jungok's. Ever since feeding and caring for them had been her responsibility, she had looked after them with visible pride and commitment- even after the years away, Haeok assumes the same must still be true. “Be back,” he tells Suok, setting down his chopsticks and standing. Her mumbled reply trails him to the door. Slipping on one of the jipsin at the door, he walks around the side of the house to where he knows Jungok is. The henhouse is on the other side of the house, a part of the main structure but open only to the outside. In the early light, the chickens are still quiet. As Haeok rounds the bend, Jungok becomes visible- crouching next to the wooden cage meant to transport the chickens, her expression is unfocused as she faces the door of the coop. At the approach of footsteps, she turns, looking up at her brother with confusion. “Oppa? What-” she starts, standing. "Keep one, we'll eat it," Haeok proposes, interrupting the question. "We should eat it, to have energy for traveling." "But- We need the money,” She reasons. “We could buy enough rice for five days, instead of one meal of chicken." Her arms cross. "We don't need the money from every chicken." "We do!" "They're yours, you should eat one. Better us than someone else." Sensing the protest on the tip of her tongue, he continues. "Keep your favorite, I'll kill it tomorrow." Haeok’s expression is firm as he looks at the younger. Reluctantly, she nods. Satisfied, he turns back towards the house. It takes them around twenty more minutes to finish assembling and packing the items to be sold, seeing as many of the goods had been packed already- the fine tea set, a gift from their aunt, and formal clothing among them. "We've had the bags packed for awhile,” Jungok explains, as Haeok shrugs on the ba jige, to hold the cage of chickens. They squawk loudly at the betrayal as Jungok lifts their carrier onto his back. “For the city, we thought, since- we didn't know if you'd come back." "I'm glad we waited," Suok affirms. Finally awake, she’s holding the handled wicker baskets, as she follows Haeok out of the gate. "Kkoma wouldn't let me think of leaving,” Jungok taunts, tone playful. She holds the sokuri basket atop her head as she walks, filled with the persimmons from their yard. The sun is beginning to rise into visibility over the mountainside, as they pass under the arch of the village entry. Suok sets down the baskets for a moment, bending at the waist in a bow to the Janseung before they continue walking into the forest. "You say that, like you weren't the one unpacking and repacking every day,” Suok scoffs, shaking her head as she finds her brother’s eyes. “Every other day they’d be back in the storage room, and then out by the door the next.” “Hey!” Jungok objects. “Are you lecturing me? I made you beef last night, and you’re lecturing me?” She huffs, turning her nose up at the younger and hastening her pace. “Do you even want any chicken tomorrow?” Haeok fights the upward quirk of his lips as Suok turns to him, large eyes wide. “Really?” She mouths to him emphatically. “Chicken?” He nods seriously in return, finally huffing out a laugh as the youngest immediately hurries to catch up to her sister’s strides, jostling the wicker bags as she runs forward. “Unnie!” She pleads to the older. “I love you!” Her voice fades as she moves farther ahead of Haeok, falling into step at her sister’s side. “Lies. You only love my cooking, you disrespect me.” Her tone is huffy, teasing. “Noooo,” Suok whines. “Shameless kkoma, after being so rude.” The chickens have settled into clucking softly behind Haeok’s ears as they jostle on his back. Ahead of him, the elongated shadow of his figure stretches against the hard dirt path, moving as he does; and the morning sunlight is bright against his sister’s backs, brightening their silhouettes against the pines surrounding them, patches of light flickering playfully on the ground. A warm, welcome companion.