Five Years: Voices from the Past
The cave was filled with frigid air. A man's yawn, ripping through the silence, echoed off the walls. Creak! Rising from a mattress with springs poking out, the man slashed a horizontal line across the wall with a sharply honed stone, adding a fourth notch to the four already there.
"Already five years, huh."
Staring at the wall crammed full of tally marks, he muttered in a hollow tone. The man's name was Lee Seong-un. After dropping out of high school, he'd scraped by on part-time jobs until his first overseas trip turned into disaster—caught in severe turbulence, he washed up alone on this deserted island.
"Sleep well, Sophia?"
Lee Seong-un greeted the coconut lying haphazardly on the floor, eyeing the woman's face carved into its husk. It was his imaginary friend, crafted to keep his sanity intact after over five years adrift. Also the name of the stunning blonde stewardess who'd first caught his eye on the plane.
"Today's the big five-year mark...? What, getting wet already 'cause it's a milestone? You were soaked yesterday too, saying how good it felt. You're such a slut."
And his eco-friendly masturbation toy for venting pent-up urges with nowhere else to go. Lee Seong-un swirled his finger inside the round hole he'd carved for a mouth, and the squelch of flesh and juice echoed softly. A sudden surge of excitement hit him; he stripped off the wild boar hide loincloth wrapped around his waist. Gripping Sophia with both hands, he carefully slid his cock into the hole and began to thrust.
"Hah, Sophia... your mouth feels extra good today. I'm gonna cum soon... Ugh!"
The raw sounds echoing in the cave cut off abruptly. Lee Seong-un unceremoniously hurled the 95th Sophia out of the cave.
"...Life's a real fucking bitch."
Slumping onto the cold cave floor, a wave of self-loathing washed over him. The brief pleasure had lifted his mood, but the ensuing emptiness and loss hit hard, leaving him sighing repeatedly.
"And now I'm hungry on top of it."
Even amid the unbelievable reality of five years adrift, his growling stomach was all too real. Chuckling wryly, Lee Seong-un grabbed his bamboo spear from against the cave wall and headed for the beach.
"Hope there's something decent to eat today."
His daily routine was simple. First thing upon waking: sling the spear over his shoulder and head to the beach. Scavenge washed-up debris or check the fish traps for the day's rations—that was it.
"What was that noise?"
Where only waves usually crashed, an unfamiliar sound drew his ears. Lee Seong-un's legs propelled him forward with the speed of a four-legged beast.
Behind a rocky cliff overlooking the beach in one glance, with no path in sight.
"People?"
Peering down, Lee Seong-un spotted two women in swimsuits on the beach.
"So why the fuck did you drink and drive the boat?!"
"Shit! You think I knew it'd end up like this?!"
A tall woman in a one-piece swimsuit, her long black hair tied back, full-figured and athletic. And a petite one in a bikini, dyed blonde hair, her voice shrill despite her small frame.
On this despairing day marking five years adrift, Lee Seong-un looked beyond them. No anchored boat, no supply crates—just the usual desolate waves pounding the shore. Their shouting and outfits ruled out rescuers. At least they spoke his language, he thought, a small mercy.
That voice... sounds familiar.
Matching the women's voices to old memories, Lee Seong-un drove his bamboo spear into the ground. Stroking his unkempt beard, he murmured.
"...Baek Jin-ah, Lee Seo-hee."
Names from a past he'd rather forget. A low chuckle escaped his lips.
Arguing and blaming each other on the beach, the two women now huddled in the shade of a palm tree, escaping the equator's murderous sun.
"Baek-jin. Anything...?"
"......Nothing."
Lee Seo-hee, her dyed red-blonde hair fluttering as she whined about the heat and thirst, sighed at Baek Jin-ah, who sat hugging her knees, face buried.
"Ugh, my throat's so fucking dry..."
"...No idea what happened to the others."
"Don't know. Don't care. I'm the one about to die here—who gives a shit about them?"
Too drained to snap back at Lee Seo-hee's callousness, Baek Jin-ah muttered to herself about how it had come to this.
"Fuck, I said sorry already."
"Who asked?"
"You're muttering that shit under your breath, that's why."
"If you don't wanna fight, just shut up and sit still."
Best friends until stranding, now mortal enemies.
"Hey, Baek-jin..."
"Don't talk to me."
"...No, look. Isn't that a person over there?"
"What?"
Baek Jin-ah whipped her head toward where Lee Seo-hee pointed and freaked out at the sight of a man approaching in primitive garb.
A bamboo spear slung over his shoulder. Long, wild hair and beard. Muscled, sun-bronzed skin. Even a loincloth fashioned from animal hide.
Assuming some savage who wouldn't understand her, Baek Jin-ah snatched a nearby rock and hurled it at him with all her might. But he dodged effortlessly or swatted it away with his spear, closing in with casual ease. Undeterred, she grabbed handfuls of sand and flung them in desperation.
While she thrashed, Lee Seo-hee coldly assessed the situation, plotting to use Baek Jin-ah as bait to escape.
"You Korean?"
Familiar words from the primitive man's mouth stunned them both—Lee Seo-hee mid-escape, Baek Jin-ah tear-streaked and frozen.
"Hey. Answer me."
They nodded frantically, mustering what strength they had left.
"W-We ended up on this island because... um...!"
Relieved he spoke their language despite his terrifying looks, Baek Jin-ah stammered through their predicament.
"Hey. I'll pay you. Take us to your village. And give us some water if you have it."
But Lee Seo-hee, realizing he was Korean-born, switched to her haughty arrogance, assuming money fixed everything.
"Fuck, don't you get it? I'll pay whatever you want—!"
—Thwuck!
Before her arrogant shout could finish, the bamboo spear quivered, lodged precisely between her legs.
"Your tongue's way too loose. Shut the fuck up."
Reeling from the unexpected threat, Lee Seo-hee collapsed limply, a salty puddle forming on the shaded, damp sand.
Stunned by the sudden violence, Baek Jin-ah coughed dryly, fearing she'd be next.
Judging further talk pointless, Lee Seong-un— no longer the primitive in their eyes— yanked out the spear.
"This your toilet or what?"
He sneered at Lee Seo-hee, who trembled in shock.
"Baek-jin... you sure we should follow him?"
Forgetting her shame at pissing herself, Lee Seo-hee eyed an escape, abandoning her friend, and asked cautiously.
"...I don't know. Better than staying put, right?"
Clueless to the scheming, Baek Jin-ah shrugged helplessly and shoved off the clingy Lee Seo-hee.
"...Why push like that?"
"I said don't stick to me. It's hot."
"...You said dirty?"
"What the hell? I said hot."
Mishearing, Lee Seo-hee bristled sharply. Hurt by the reaction, Baek Jin-ah fired back just as hotly. Normally laced with laughter, but the equatorial swelter and island humidity widened the rift between them.
"You're so fucking narrow-minded..."
"...What? Say that again."
Their fractured friendship teetered on explosion.
"Quiet. Follow."
Lee Seong-un glanced back with a low growl, swallowing their breaths. Terror stitched their forced truce; they trailed him in silence.
It's really them: Lee Seo-hee and Baek Jin-ah.
Heading silently to his cave home, Lee Seong-un's mind drifted to high school amid their murmurs—memories he'd buried.
Lee Seo-hee and Baek Jin-ah. High school queens who ruled the school like their kingdom. Lee Seo-hee, fearless daughter of a prestigious legal family. Baek Jin-ah, progeny of famous athletes, prodigy volleyball star.
They drew the so-called school gang. Their crimes were endless, universally despised.
And at semester's start, I became their target—just because my seat was close.
It began with requests. Baek Jin-ah, skipping breakfast, handed me a ten-thousand-won bill: "Buy bread and milk. Keep the change."
Tempted by free cash for errands, I obliged without question. But I shouldn't have.
I turned into their bread shuttle. Soon buying with my own money. Not just vending machine stuff—lunchtime burgers, pizza, chicken, all ordered, delivered, and set up on my dime. Petty compared to demands for tampons or panties, announced loud enough for the whole class to shame me. PTSD-inducing.
In return, if other gang kids tried bossing or hitting me, Baek Jin-ah claimed me as her exclusive: "Hands off."
Should've pissed me off, but oddly, it felt good then.
Delusion. On stress-max days, they'd drag me to the gym for "volleyball practice"—really just their punching bag, smacked by balls. Her spikes hit dead-on; post-session, I was bruised everywhere but my head.
Thinking about it pisses me off all over again.
Used and abused, I dropped out. Part-times led to a productive life, capped by a self-gifted trip that became this shipwreck.
But this is fun.
Five years in, survival his sole focus, their arrival thrilled him so much he couldn't stifle his laugh.
Lee Seo-hee and Baek Jin-ah, trailing behind, shivered at the creepy sound, but Lee Seong-un laughed on.
In modern society, he'd never touch them. But here on the deserted island—no doting parents to cover their sins, no biased laws or justice. Pure lawless wild.