The afternoon sun hung heavy in the sky, casting long shadows across the camp. Haruki and Haruka sat near the fire, tending to strips of meat that hung on makeshift skewers balanced between two sturdy branches. Smoke rose slowly into the air, carrying the scent of the jerky—a promising but temporary solution to our food problem.
Anna sat cross-legged nearby, idly poking at the embers with a stick. Her expression was thoughtful, her gaze flicking occasionally toward the stack of empty coconut shells we'd drained for water.
"We need to talk about the water situation," she said finally, breaking the silence.
I set down the coconut I'd been sipping from and looked at her.
"The purifier isn't cutting it," she continued. "It works, but it's too slow. We're barely scraping by, even with the coconuts supplementing it. This won't last."
Haruki sighed and nodded. "She's right. The jerky's coming along fine—it'll keep us fed for now—but water's the bigger problem. If we don't figure it out, none of this will matter."
Haruka, leaning against a nearby tree, folded her arms. "The river's way too far. We can't waste an entire day trekking back and forth for water. It'd burn more energy than it's worth."
"And the sea's a no-go," Anna added. "We can't drink salt water, and even if we boiled it, we don't have the right setup to distill it."
I frowned, running my fingers over the rough edges of the coconut in my hand. "What about clay? If we can find some nearby, we could try making pots for boiling water. It's not a perfect solution, but it's better than nothing."
Haruki raised an eyebrow. "Clay? Would that even work without proper tools? How would we fire it?"
"We wouldn't need proper tools," Anna replied, setting the stick aside. "We could harden it with the fire. It wouldn't last forever, but it might last long enough to make it worth trying."
Haruka shook her head. "And if it cracks? What then? We've wasted all that effort."
I glanced toward the direction of the wreckage, hidden deeper within the trees. "The wreck might have something we missed. Metal scraps, containers, anything we can repurpose. It's worth another look."
Haruka snorted softly. "Didn't you already search it?"
"Not for this specifically," Anna said. "We weren't looking for water solutions back then. It's worth a second pass. If we find something intact, it could save us a lot of trouble."
There was a pause before Haruki sighed. "Alright, fine. But if that doesn't work, we'll have to try the clay idea."
"Agreed," I said, nodding.
Anna and I left camp, retracing the path to the wreckage. The walk was uneventful, the forest calm save for the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional birdcall.
"You really think we missed something?" Anna asked as she stepped over a fallen log.
"I don't know," I admitted. "But even a damaged container could help. If we patch it with leaves or clay, it might hold water well enough to boil or catch rain."
"And if we come back empty-handed?"
"Then we move to plan B," I said simply.
The wreckage came into view, its twisted metal glinting faintly in the fading sunlight. We approached cautiously, the memories of the crash still fresh despite everything that had happened since.
We split up, Anna heading toward what remained of the cockpit while I searched the cargo area. Most of the debris was as we'd left it—smashed suitcases, broken plastic, and scattered personal belongings.
After some time, Anna called out. "Anything?"
"Not yet," I replied, brushing dirt off my hands.
"I think I've got something," she said, emerging from the other side of the wreckage with a battered aluminum panel in her hands.
I walked over, inspecting it. The panel was bent and riddled with small holes, but its general shape was intact.
"It's not a container," I said, frowning slightly.
"No," Anna agreed, "but it's flexible enough to shape into something. If we reinforce it with clay or leaves, we might be able to make it work for boiling or even catching rain."
I hesitated before nodding. "It's not much, but it's a start. Let's take it back."
Back at camp, Haruki and Haruka were sitting near the fire, their earlier jerky work replaced by a small pile of coconuts they'd managed to gather.
"Find anything?" Haruki asked as we approached.
"Not much," Anna admitted, holding up the aluminum panel. "But this might be useful if we reinforce it. We could use it to catch rain or boil water."
Haruka tilted her head. "With what? We're not exactly swimming in clay."
"We'll find more," I said, sitting down and running a hand over the panel. "This island has to have a clay deposit somewhere. It's just a matter of looking in the right place."
Anna nodded. "We'll focus on that tomorrow. For now, let's get the fire going strong so we can dry the clay properly once we find it."
As the evening deepened, the camp settled into its usual rhythm. The fire burned steadily, casting flickering shadows across the trees as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Sitting around the fire, we discussed the day's progress and what lay ahead.
"This is progress," Haruki said, nodding toward the drying jerky. "Food's sorted for now. Once we get the water issue handled, we can start focusing on shelter."
Haruka leaned back, crossing her arms. "We've been lucky with the weather so far, but luck won't hold forever. One bad storm, and we're screwed."
"She's right," Haruki agreed. "Shelter should be next."
"We'll get there," Anna said, her voice calm but firm. "But food and water come first. Shelter's important, but it's going to take time and energy—more than we can afford to spend until the basics are secure."
Haruka frowned but didn't argue, instead turning her gaze toward the fire.
As the evening turned to night, the firelight flickered softly, and the sounds of the forest began to shift. I volunteered to take the first watch, sitting close to the fire as the others settled in to rest.
The night air was cool, and the forest around us seemed alive with faint sounds—the creak of branches, the occasional rustle of leaves. For the first hour, I focused on keeping the fire going, feeding it dry branches and watching the flames dance.
But as the hours wore on, that familiar unease crept over me—the feeling of being watched.
I scanned the darkness beyond the firelight, my eyes searching for any sign of movement. The shadows seemed to shift, but no sound accompanied them.
It's nothing, I told myself, gripping my hands together. Just your imagination. Keep focused.