Juju island attack

The moonlight over Jeju Island was deceptively beautiful, casting a silver sheen over the rhythmic pulse of the tide. Inside the luxury villa, the air was cool and quiet, but for Hyunjin, the world had become a suffocating blur of panic. He sat bolt upright in bed, his chest heaving from the remnants of a nightmare he couldn't quite remember. His hand instinctively went to his left wrist, seeking the familiar cold touch of the silver chain he never took off.

It was gone.

The bracelet—the last thing his grandmother had given him before she passed—was missing. The clasp had been loose lately, he remembered with a jolt of horror. He scrambled out of bed, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He checked the floor, the nightstand, the bathroom. Nothing. Desperation clawed at his throat as he grabbed a flashlight and slipped out the sliding glass door, his feet hitting the cool sand. He had to find it. Without it, he felt like he was losing her all over again.

A few hundred yards down the shoreline, Han Jisung was struggling with a different kind of ghost. Anxiety had been a heavy weight on his chest all evening, making the walls of the villa feel like they were closing in. He had stepped out for a walk to clear his head, the sound of the waves usually serving as a balm for his frayed nerves.

As he walked, something glinted in the wet sand near the tide line. Jisung knelt, his fingers brushing against metal. He picked it up, recognizing it instantly. It was Hyunjin’s bracelet. Relief washed over him; he knew how much this piece of jewelry meant to his friend. They had fought so much during their trainee days and early debut, but they had grown so close since then. Jisung knew the history of this bracelet. He knew it was irreplaceable.

"Oh, thank god," Jisung whispered to the wind. Fearing he might drop it in the dark or lose it in his pockets, he carefully slid it onto his own wrist, clicking the loose clasp shut. He would give it back first thing in the morning when Hyunjin was awake.

He turned to head back to the villa when a bright beam of light cut through the darkness, blinding him.

"Jisung?" Hyunjin’s voice was ragged, thick with distress.

"Hyunjin! Hey, I was just—"

Hyunjin stepped closer, the flashlight trembling in his hand. The beam dropped from Jisung’s face to his arm. The silver glint of the bracelet caught the light, standing out starkly against Jisung’s skin.

The world went silent for Hyunjin. The panic he had been feeling curdled instantly into a toxic, blinding rage. All the old bitterness from years ago, the friction of their youth, and the sheer terror of loss exploded in his mind.

"You," Hyunjin hissed, his voice trembling. "You took it."

Jisung blinked, confused by the venom in the other’s tone. "What? No, Hyunjin, I found it in the sand. I was just keeping it safe—"

"Liar!" Hyunjin screamed, the sound tearing through the quiet night. He lunged forward, grabbing Jisung by the front of his hoodie. "You saw me panicking, didn't you? You wanted to see me crawl? You’re such a pathetic, attention-seeking whore, Jisung!"

Jisung’s breath hitched. The sudden verbal assault was like a physical blow. His heart rate spiked, and the familiar, fuzzy sensation began to creep into the corners of his mind. When the world became too loud, too mean, his brain had a way of retreating. He felt himself slipping, his thoughts becoming simple and soft.

"Jinnie, no... 'm sorry," Jisung whimpered, his voice dropping into a higher, more childish register. His eyes grew dazed, the pupils blowing wide. "I help... I found it for you..."

"Don't you dare play the victim with me!" Hyunjin was beyond reason. The grief for his grandmother, the exhaustion of the tour, and the perceived betrayal snapped something inside him. "You’ve always been a burden. Everyone has to take care of you, everyone has to walk on eggshells because you’re so 'fragile.' You’re just a thief."

Jisung began to cry, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn't understand the big words anymore. He just knew his friend was hurting and angry. He reached out a trembling hand to touch Hyunjin’s arm, a silent plea for comfort. "Jinnie sad? No be sad..."

The touch was the final spark. Hyunjin roared, shoving Jisung backward. Jisung hit the sand hard, the air leaving his lungs. Before he could recover, Hyunjin was on top of him, his knees pinning Jisung’s arms.

Hyunjin’s hand wrapped around Jisung’s throat, not enough to crush his windpipe, but enough to pin him down as he began to swing. *Thwack.* The first punch landed on Jisung’s cheek.

"Give it back!" Hyunjin screamed, his face a mask of fury. *Thwack.* Another punch.

Jisung couldn't fight back. His mind was that of a three-year-old now, terrified and confused. He sobbed, the sound muffled by the sand and the blows. "Dada! Minho-hyung! Help!"

The tide was coming in. A large wave rolled up the beach, the freezing water rushing over Jisung’s head. He sputtered, gasping for air, but Hyunjin, blinded by his own breakdown, pushed Jisung’s head down into the retreating water.

"You don't deserve anything!" Hyunjin yelled over the sound of the ocean.

Jisung thrashed, his small hands clawing at Hyunjin’s wrists, but he was losing strength. The saltwater filled his nose and mouth. The world was turning dark, the silver moon fading into a black abyss. His lungs burned, his heart stuttering in his chest. Just as his eyes rolled back and his limbs went limp, the weight on his chest was suddenly gone.

"Hyunjin! What the fuck are you doing?!"

Changbin’s voice boomed like thunder. He had been out for a late-night run when he heard the screaming. He didn't hesitate; he tackled Hyunjin off of Jisung, pinning the taller boy to the sand several feet away.

"Let me go! He stole it!" Hyunjin shrieked, struggling wildly, but Changbin was a wall of muscle, holding him down with grim determination.

"Chan! Minho! Get over here now!" Changbin yelled toward the villa.

Chan and Minho were already sprinting down the beach, having been alerted by the noise. When they reached the water’s edge, their hearts stopped. Jisung was floating face down in the shallow surf, his body swaying listlessly with the movement of the waves.

"Jisung!" Chan screamed, plunging into the water. He hauled the younger boy onto the dry sand, his face pale with terror.

Minho dropped to his knees beside them, his hands shaking as he checked for a pulse. "He’s not breathing, Chan. He’s not breathing!"

Chan didn't waste a second. He tilted Jisung’s head back and began chest compressions. "Count with me, Minho! One, two, three..."

Minho was sobbing, his usual stoic mask shattered into a million pieces. He leaned over, breathing air into Jisung’s lungs, tasting the salt and the copper of blood. "Come back, Sungie. Please, baby, come back to us."

Seconds felt like hours. Changbin had managed to get Hyunjin into a seated position, though he kept a firm grip on his shoulders. Hyunjin was staring at the scene in front of him, the red mist finally clearing to reveal the horror of what he had done. He saw Chan’s desperate movements. He saw Minho’s tears.

Finally, a wet, rattling sound came from Jisung’s throat. He coughed violently, a spray of seawater and bile escaping his lips. Minho quickly rolled him onto his side, rubbing his back as Jisung retched, his body heaving as he expelled the ocean from his lungs.

"That's it, breathe for me," Chan whispered, his own voice breaking. He brushed the wet hair off Jisung’s forehead. "You're okay, I've got you."

Jisung continued to gag and sob, his eyes fluttering open. They were glassy, unfocused, and filled with a primal, childlike terror. He looked up at Minho and let out a broken, high-pitched wail.

"Dada! Dada, owie!" Jisung shrieked, his voice thin and raspy. He tried to curl into a ball, his small frame shaking with violent tremors. "Hurts! Scared!"

Minho gathered him into his arms, ignoring the wet sand and the cold. He tucked Jisung’s head under his chin, rocking him back and forth. "I know, baby. I know it hurts. Dada’s here. You’re safe now."

Jisung’s hand, still adorned with the silver bracelet, clutched at Minho’s shirt. He caught sight of Hyunjin sitting a few yards away and let out a blood-curdling scream, burying his face deeper into Minho’s chest.

"No! No Jinnie! Bad! Go 'way!" Jisung sobbed, his breathing becoming erratic again. "He hurt Sungie! He hurt!"

Minho looked up at Hyunjin, and for a moment, the look in Minho’s eyes was more terrifying than the ocean. It was a cold, sharp promise of retribution. "Get him out of here, Changbin. Get him to the villa and don't let him near us."

"I... I didn't..." Hyunjin started, his voice a ghost of a whisper. He looked at his hands, then at the bruises already forming on Jisung’s pale face. "Jisung, I’m so—"

"Go!" Chan snapped, his protective instincts for the little in Minho’s arms overriding everything else. "Before I do something I'll regret, Hyunjin. Leave."

Changbin hauled Hyunjin to his feet and began leading him away. Hyunjin was limp, his head hanging low, the weight of his actions finally settling in his gut like lead.

Back on the sand, the silence was broken only by the sound of Jisung’s rhythmic, heartbroken whimpering. Felix and Seungmin had arrived by now, having heard the commotion from the balcony. Felix was pale, his hands over his mouth, while Seungmin immediately knelt down with a blanket he’d grabbed from the living room.

"Here," Seungmin said softly, his voice steady despite the chaos. "We need to get him warm. The shock is going to set in."

They wrapped Jisung in the plush fabric. Minho reached into his pocket—he always carried a spare for emergencies—and pulled out a blue pacifier. He gently nudged it against Jisung’s lips. Jisung took it eagerly, his frantic sobbing turning into wet, hitching breaths as he sucked on the silicone, seeking the comfort he so desperately needed.

"Is he okay?" Felix whispered, kneeling by Jisung’s feet. "His face... his neck..."

"He’s alive," Chan said, though his jaw was set tight. "But he’s deep in his headspace. We need to get him inside and cleaned up. Jeongin is getting the first aid kit ready."

Minho stood up, carrying Jisung as if he weighed nothing. The little boy clung to him like a limpet, his eyes closed, his small body still occasionally jolting with a sob.

"I found it," Jisung mumbled around the pacifier, his voice barely audible. He lifted his wrist, showing the bracelet to Minho. "For Jinnie. I finded it... so he not sad."

Minho felt a fresh wave of tears prick his eyes. He kissed Jisung’s temple, his heart aching at the pure innocence of the boy. "You did a good job, Sungie. You were so brave. But we’re going to take that off now, okay? We’re going to go inside and get you a warm bath."

As they walked back toward the villa, the light from the house spilling out onto the sand, the atmosphere was heavy. The first week of vacation had ended in a nightmare, and the scars—both physical and emotional—were deep.

Inside, Jeongin was waiting by the door, his eyes wide as he saw the state of his hyung. He reached out to touch Jisung’s hand, but the little whined and pulled away, hiding his face in Minho’s neck.

"He’s very scared right now, Innie," Chan explained gently. "He needs a bit of space from everyone except his caretakers for a little while."

They bypassed the living room, where they could hear Hyunjin sobbing in the kitchen while Changbin talked to him in a low, stern voice. Minho carried Jisung straight to the large master bathroom.

The process of cleaning him up was heartbreaking. As the salt and sand were washed away, the true extent of the damage became clear. There were dark fingerprints on his neck and a blooming purple bruise on his cheekbone. Jisung sat in the warm water, clutching a rubber duck Seungmin had brought him, his eyes fixed on the bubbles. He was silent now, but it wasn't a peaceful silence. It was the silence of a child who had been taught that the world wasn't safe.

"Dada?" Jisung whispered, looking up at Minho who was sponging water over his shoulders.

"Yes, my star?"

"Jinnie hate Sungie?"

Minho’s hand paused. He looked at Chan, who was sitting on the edge of the tub, drying Jisung’s hair with a soft towel.

"No, baby," Chan said firmly, leaning down to look Jisung in the eye. "Hyunjin is very, very sick in his head right now. He was confused and he made a very big mistake. But it is not your fault. You were being a good boy."

Jisung chewed on his pacifier, his brow furrowing. "I want... I want to go home. No more beach."

"We'll stay right here in the room with you," Minho promised. "No more beach tonight. Just movies and cuddles."

After the bath, they dressed him in his favorite oversized hoodie and soft leggings. They tucked him into the middle of the massive bed, sandwiched between Chan and Minho. Felix and Seungmin sat at the foot of the bed, offering quiet smiles and soft touches whenever Jisung reached out.

Despite the warmth and the safety of his boyfriends, Jisung’s sleep was fitful. He kept waking up with a start, his hands flying to his throat, his eyes searching the shadows for a monster that used to be his best friend. Each time, Minho would pull him close, whispering lullabies, and Chan would hold his hand, grounding him.

In the other room, the rest of the group sat in a heavy, suffocating silence. The bond of the group had been fractured in a way none of them knew how to fix. Hyunjin sat in the corner, his head in his hands, the silver bracelet sitting on the table in front of him like a cursed object. He had his treasure back, but in return, he had broken the heart of the person who had gone out of his way to find it.

The waves continued to crash against the shore outside, indifferent to the pain within the villa. The Jeju moon was still bright, but for Stray Kids, the light had gone out. The road to healing would be long, and for a little boy who just wanted to help his friend, the world had become a much scarier place.