Here we are, chapter 2! And that means that I can finally reveal the exact prompt that created this project, given by Rabbit: "Luka is a charter pilot and Miku is her bitchy, entitled-rich-girl client. Mechanical problems force the plane down in a wilderness area, requiring the two to put aside their differences and work together to survive until rescue." Perhaps I bent the whole "wilderness area" just a little by casting them to the high seas, but I do love the idea that neither of them can go anywhere at all. Plus, it felt all the more...survivable? I don't know. This idea just stuck.

I hope you enjoy!


The storm had grown and moved fast, but it still took hours for it to pass, long enough for Luka's crying to stop and for her suit to dry somewhat. But a puddle had formed inside the raft, making it impossible to dry off completely. It was the resulting cold that shook her into action, the shivers prompting her to rifle through the storage compartment of the raft.

The only thing that slowed her down was the screaming pain in her shoulder.

The first things she pulled out of the storage compartment were the set of sponges designed to remove water from the raft. She tossed one to her companion and started soaking up the water with her own sponge.

"What do you want me to do with this?" Miku asked. She'd rubbed at the makeup on her face, and now it was nothing more than a vaguely gray smear under her eyes.

"Dry the raft."

"But I'm cold."

Luka stilled. "I know. So am I. That's why I'm drying the raft."

Miku sniffled, then picked up the sponge. "I don't know what to do with this."

"You put it on the floor. You push a bit so the water gathers. The sponge soaks it up. Then you bring the sponge to the door, and you squeeze it..."

While Luka was speaking, she demonstrated, saturating the sponge with water, crawling towards the door, zipping it open, and revealing the vast blue waters of the ocean.

It was quiet, now. The storm was long gone. The waves bobbed merrily, calmly, each barely more than a few centimeters high. But what stunned her were the saturated hues of sundown, and the wine-dark tint of the ocean.

Speechless, all Luka could do was reach her arm out, and squeeze the sponge. She listened as the water trickled back into the sea, her eyes on the vast expanse.

No words could describe how uncompromisingly vast and empty the open ocean is. Looking from left to right, there was only water, more water, and the huge, empty sky. Not a single thing cut the line of the horizon. No birds flew nearby. Only the sun hung there, low, bleeding all over the edge of the sea.

Luka let out a long, shuddering breath.

"Like this?" Miku asked, squeezing her sponge over the water.

"Yeah," Luka said, her voice dry. "Just like that."

Together, the two women soaked up the water from inside the raft, and took turns at the door to squeeze out the excess. The puddles eventually disappeared into a thin film of moisture, at which Luka kept dabbing, kept rubbing, in vain: her sponge was wet too, and there was no soaking up the remaining traces of liquid.

Miku tossed her sponge in a corner. "I'm still cold."

"Yeah, well, we need to dry off," Luka said, still trying to dry the floor.

"How long is that going to take?"

"I don't know. A while."

"It's nighttime soon."

"I know."

"How long are you going to keep obsessing over that sponge?"

Luka blinked; at that point, she was squeezing the sponge so much that she was forcing water back into the raft, rather than lifting water out of it. She sat back, and her left arm hung limply from her shoulder.

"I..."

"Come on, do something! I'm cold and I'm hungry and it's going to be dark soon!"

Luka grit her teeth but made her way back to the storage compartment.

"How come you get to keep your shoes?" Miku suddenly asked.

"High heels pop rafts," Luka said, monotone, as she sifted through the things.

"No fair. My feet are cold."

Luka didn't reply, finally finding the list of things in the compartment. But she'd made a mess of it at that point, so instead, she started pulling things out one by one, arranging them neatly, putting the things she found in groups. There was more than enough room to spread all the things out on the floor. It was a raft for fourteen people after all, and they were just two, plus a support strut in the middle. So Luka worked around those three elements, and soon enough, she had a clear idea of the things available to them.

There was a raft repair kit, which she immediately put back in the compartment for safekeeping. There were paddles, which also went back because at that point, she didn't even know where they would paddle to. There were signal flares, a mirror, a whistle, a few clamp-on lights to signal their position in the dark, and a radio beacon, all designed to attract attention. There was a compass, a flashlight with batteries, and a small pocket telescope, to get oriented. There were life jackets, seasick tablets, skin creams, and eye drops, to deal with the endless sea and its salty water. There were a bunch of reflective insulated blankets. And finally, there was a water desalination kit, along with enough rations to feed fourteen people for two days.

Luka grabbed a ration bag, which was vacuum sealed. In the fading orange light, she read the instructions.

"When did you last eat?" she asked Miku.

"Lunch?"

Luka looked at her wristwatch: that was seven hours prior.

"You're overdue, then," she said, ripping open the bag and tossing a bar to Miku. "One bar every six hours each."

"What is this?"

"Rations," Luka replied, grabbing her own bar. She tore the wrapping apart and bit into it.

It wasn't vile, but it wasn't haute cuisine.

"It looks disgusting."

"It's shelf-stable, packed with calories—"

"What?! I'm on a diet, you can't do this to me!"

Luka stopped chewing. "It's for survival. You need calories to survive. To keep warm."

"Tsch, I'm not eating this drivel. What else do we have?"

Luka looked her in the eye. "We don't have anything else."

Miku frowned, eyes darting from the pilot to the discarded bar on the floor. "Nothing else?"

"Nothing. Else." Luka said. "You're overdue. Eat. It'll help you keep warm."

"Fine. Fine."

Miku grabbed the bar, peeled it open, and cautiously bit into it.

Luka expected it, but she still flinched when Miku exclaimed, "Ugh! This is disgusting!"

"I know."

"I can't eat this! I won't eat this!"

"Then starve."

Miku did a double take at that. "What?"

"You heard me. If you don't eat it, you'll starve. If you do eat it, you'll live. Your choice. It doesn't matter to me either way."

"How dare you—"

"Shut up and eat."

Miku seemed positively incensed. After gathering her energy with a big, deep, enraged inhale, she vociferated, "You can't talk to me like that! Don't you know who I am?!"

"You're Miku Hatsune."

"Yes I am! And I don't know who you even are, so watch your mouth, or my dad will hear about this!"

Luka stared at her, jaw clenched, fists balled. The nutrient bar barely held together in her grasp. "Your dad will be happy if you come out of this alive."

The younger woman blinked.

"Look around," Luka said evenly. "Your dad isn't here. Nobody is here. Nothing is here. We're on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Complain all you want, but you won't achieve anything. Just eat."

"But..."

"Just eat. Get warm. Get comfortable. We might be here a while."

Miku fell silent at that, but she didn't pick up her bar. She merely crossed her arms, turned her back to the pilot, and curled up, ignoring her.

Luka shrugged and finished eating her bar, her eyes fixed on a faraway point only she could see. She tentatively rolled her left shoulder, but only winced. Then she grabbed one of the clamp-on lights and a flashlight. With uneasy footing on the inflated raft, she crawled over to the door, only to be greeted by the sight of a dark, just-after-sunset sky, all blue and purple. And the ocean?

The ocean was pitch black.

Luka gulped and turned to face the top of the canopy, then clamped one of the lights on to the roof. She hoped it would be visible from all angles, but there was only so much she could do. After turning it on, she retreated back inside to see how the radio beacon worked. That took some setting up, but soon it was back deep in the compartment, constantly signaling their position. Luka kept the flares and telescope by the door of the storage area, while she pocketed the compass and whistle. The rest of the rations were pushed into an unused corner for easy access, and then Luka turned her attention to the water desalination kit.

Licking her lips, she quickly unwrapped it, using the flashlight to read the instructions.

It needed to be deployed outside. Add sea water and wait. She grumbled when she learned that it used the sun to produce drinking water; with the night upon them, they wouldn't have water for hours. Still, she deployed it as instructed, then closed the door again.

With everything else put away, she then grabbed a bunch of the blankets.

"Here. Stay warm," she told the other woman, tossing the blankets in her direction.

Miku did turn over to see what the noise was, then begrudgingly grabbed them, wrapped herself in a couple of layers, then turned back over.

Luka watched, her eyes occasionally darting to the abandoned ration bar on the floor. Then she grabbed her own set of blankets, set a few on the floor so she could be dry, shed her wet shoes and socks, bundled up, and got warm, resting on her right side, turned away from the other woman in return.

They fell asleep like that, gently lulled by the quietly rocking ocean.


Luka woke up warm and blinded, the sun visible through her eyelids. Or at least, she thought it was the sun; instead, it was the blinding orange-red of the raft she was in.

When she blinked, it all came back to her, and she couldn't help but choke out a sob.

She cried softly, her right hand clutching her left shoulder. Her leg bounced, her fists balled up. She kept it short, composing herself quickly, before unwrapping herself from the blankets.

The floor of the raft had dried overnight, it seemed, or at least it felt dry to the touch. But it was startlingly cool inside the raft. Her skin breaking out in goosebumps, Luka made her way to the door, zipped it open, and got a face-full of cold air.

It was early morning. To her left, she saw the sun still hanging low over the ocean, the sky already a bright baby blue, the ocean a deeper, meaner hue. In front of her, bobbing around innocently, was the desalination kit.

Luka licked her lips and tasted the salt in the air. Or was it the salt from her tears? She breathed deeply, scanning the horizon.

Nothing. Not even a hint of a sign of life.

She checked the light, which still shone brightly. She turned it off, but left it hanging there. She'd turn it on at the next sundown.

And so there was nothing left to do but sit there and stare. Stare at the vast emptiness, a huge expanse she'd flown over dozens of times, a vast wasteland she was now stuck in. She took that time to breathe, to compose herself, to get ready for what was to come.

When she turned back to the interior of the raft due to the mounting cold, zipping the door closed, she saw that the ration bar that Miku had discarded had vanished.

Luka smiled smugly to herself, but she didn't say anything. The other woman was still fast asleep, or looked the part, a curled up mass of blankets and hair, the teal strands spilling out everywhere. Their well-groomed appearance had definitely been destroyed by the salt water and wind. Now, it was a tangled mess, full of knots.

Luka checked the time and saw that once again she was overdue on a ration. But she'd slept for about seven hours, so it wasn't awfully late. She unwrapped one and chewed on it slowly, not to savor the taste but to have something to do.

They could have packed a deck of cards.

Luka looked around, then felt at her suit. In her breast pocket was her phone, broken beyond repair. But there was also her notebook. She opened it, finding the pages wrinkled and some parts still somewhat soggy, but it had mostly dried overnight. Inside, she found her sketches. They were smeared, ruined by the saltwater.

With a lump in her throat, she turned to an empty page, took the mechanical pencil out of the spine of the notebook, and tried writing. Thankfully, the pencil still worked, and the page didn't rip under the tip.

Dear Meiko,

I just survived a plane crash. Can you believe it? Now I'm stuck on a raft, stuck with the most ungrateful, spoiled, entitled person I know. And I told you about Gakupo, right? My right hand man, partner in crime, best friend since first year in school, my coworker for a year. He never made it out of the plane. He's de—

Luka stopped for a moment just to collect herself. She pushed back most of her tears, but a few still did fall.

He's dead. I don't know what happened. One second he was right behind me, and the next, he was gone.

She tore her eyes from the page and gazed at the sleeping woman. After a minute, she kept writing.

I don't know what I'm going to do. Gakupo was one of my closest friends. Miku, however, is the most infuriating person I know. She pisses me off to no end. She whined about having to eat rations. Can you imagine? After someone just died? After being lucky to even be alive? I can't imagine being so unhinged from reality. She's only in her own little world where daddy makes everything right again, even though he's literally never been further away. She even pulled the 'do you know who I am' schtick with me. Unbelievable! On the bright side, her hair is ruined. The seawater and wind storms did a number on it. I think she might have to chop it all off. I'll take that as my own little personal revenge, if it'll help me not strangle her while we're here. Lord knows we don't need a second fatality on this trip. Though maybe solitude might be preferable.

She flipped to the fourth page of her ramblings, then happened to glance at Miku. She was starting to stir, so Luka pocketed her notebook and pencil and waited.

"Ugh," Miku mumbled at some point, before sitting up. Her face was still smeared with old makeup. "You're still here."

"I can't exactly go anywhere," Luka said, her tone cool.

Miku huffed and shrugged off the blankets. "This is awful."

"I know."

"I didn't even have a pillow to sleep on. My neck aches."

Luka didn't reply.

"What's for breakfast?"

Wordlessly, Luka grabbed another ration bar from the bag and chucked it in Miku's direction. Miku didn't catch it, watching the bar fall to the floor and bounce off the inflatable surface.

"Ugh, this again."

"You managed one, you can do another," Luka said.

"I don't know how much of this I can take," she whined, unwrapping the bar with the very tips of her fingers, as if merely touching the bar disgusted her. "How long are we staying out here?"

"I don't know," Luka admitted.

"How can you not know?!" Miku exclaimed.

"There are a few things I know. First, I know people know something went wrong; we were in touch with air traffic control, after all. Second, I did everything I could to attract attention. There's a light outside and there's a radio beacon in the compartment that's currently broadcasting our location. But I don't know how far we are from the nearest coast. I don't know how long it'll take people to reach us, or even find us."

"Could it be today?"

"It could be. It could be next week."

Miku gasped. "But we'll starve!"

"No. We have enough rations for..." Luka did some mental math. "Fourteen days. We can survive here for two weeks, plus a little extra before we literally starve."

"I can't do this," Miku said, tears in her eyes. "Two weeks?! Here, with you, for two weeks?!"

Luka frowned at that. "With me?"

"Yes, you! Captain Buzzkill! Miss Boring! I can't imagine a worse person to be stuck with!"

Luka grumbled under her breath, but didn't otherwise reply. Miku scoffed and ate her ration bar, complaining and whining the whole while.

Once that was polished and the wrapper discarded, Miku declared, "I'm thirsty. Do something about it."

"You just insulted me, and expect me to be at your beck and call?"

"Of course. What else are you going to do?"

"What else indeed..." Luka rolled her eyes as she made her way to the door, zipping it open, to pull in the water desalting kit.

Inside was a measly amount of drinking water.

"It's not much," Luka said, bringing the container of drinking water inside. "But it's just been out overnight so we can expect more during the day. Especially if it's sunny."

"That's all we have?!"

"Yep." Luka then grabbed the container with both hands and drank half.

"Oh! How dare—?!"

"Here. Drink up."

"That was my water!"

"Look at it this way," Luka said, coming as close to the other woman as she'd ever been, only the container between them. "If I die, then you'll have to do all of this all on your own."

"That—"

"Managing food, water. Getting rescued. Using the radio. Dealing with the ocean and nothing but the ocean for days. Face it. Without me, you're dead."

Miku looked enraged, but she grabbed the container, turned away, and drank.

Luka crawled away, rolling her eyes. Once Miku was done, she asked for the container back and reset the desalination kit.

"With some luck, we'll have two liters of water by the end of the day," she said, crawling back to what had become her spot on the raft, opposite of where Miku sat.

"We'd better."

"It's all up to the sun at this point. Out of my hands," Luka said.

Miku huffed. "And how long are we supposed to wear these things for?"

Luka looked down at her inflatable life jacket; they were both still wearing them, and had spent the night in them. But they had deflated somewhat overnight, rendering them dangerous.

"We need to take these off. Put these ones on instead," she said, rustling through the things to get the life jackets supplied with the raft. They weren't inflatable, but were more compact and perhaps more comfortable, made of foam.

"Ugh, we need to wear those eyesores? Aren't we on a raft?"

"What if something happens to the raft? What if you fall out? We need to wear these to stay safe."

Miku rolled her eyes so hard that they almost went into orbit. Luka clenched her jaw and chucked a jacket in her direction, but Miku didn't touch it, merely busying herself with peeling off the old inflatable vest.

"I'm not wearing that thing," she eventually declared, just as Luka was fastening the straps on her own jacket.

"You need to."

"I'm not doing it," she said, steadfast, arms crossed. "What if we get rescued and I'm seen wearing that thing? Mortifying."

"I think people will be more in awe at you having survived a plane crash," Luka said, rubbing her temples. Her leg bounced.

"It's not happening."

"Fine."

Miku smiled victoriously, watching as Luka finished putting on her vest. Luka had to admit that while the yellow one had been huge and unsightly, this new one was bulky and dense. It pressed more closely against her, enveloping her entirely, pressing uncomfortably against her shoulder.

Luka winced as she tried to roll her shoulder again.

Had she broken something?

"Now what do we do?" Miku asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm bored."

"This is boring," Luka deadpanned. "We're out in the open sea. There's nothing to do."

"Well, do something. Entertain me."

Luka raised both brows. "'Entertain you'? Like what, a clown?"

"I don't know. Can you do that? I doubt you can, since you're Captain Buzzkill. But it might entertain me to see you try."

Luka was taken aback by the sheer sincerity in Miku's voice: she wasn't mocking her, she was seriously considering that watching Luka try to be a clown might be sufficient entertainment.

"I'm not going to turn into a clown for your amusement," Luka hissed.

"Well, do something, then!"

"I don't exist to be her servant."

"Yes, you do! Dad hired you to do whatever I want! So come on, do something!"

"I was specifically hired to fly you to wherever you would want to go."

"And look at what a good job you did at that!" Miku snapped. "Since this crash is your responsibility, you might as well own up and start making up for it!"

Luka blinked. "'My responsibility'?"

"Yeah! I definitely didn't crash the plane."

"Without me, we would all be dead at the bottom of the ocean, crushed and dead in the water. I saved our lives."

"At least two of them."

"Excuse me?"

"Your co-pilot, you know. That definitely wasn't my fault, either."

If Luka's hand twitched. She crawled closer, absolutely furious.

"Gakupo drowning wasn't my fault. I don't know what happened to him."

"Well, something did. Something happened because the person flying the plane, aka you, didn't do her job well enough."

Luka crawled closer still. "So you're saying I killed him?"

"Sure. Worse yet, you definitely ruined my day, my hair, forcing me to eat this paste, telling me to wear this garbage, and now you need to make up for all of it. So come on. Entertain me."

Luka slapped her.

"How dare you!" she roared. "A man died!"

"You hit me!"

"Want me to do it again?!" Luka bellowed, raising her hand, and Miku flinched. "Is this what it takes for you to get an ounce of reality to seep into your thick skull?"

"You can't—"

"I can, and I will! Because you are the most infuriating, the most insufferable, stupidest, most selfish brat I've ever encountered in my career! Usually you're nothing more than an annoyance, like a pathetic, sad little rock in my shoe, but now you've crossed the line and I hate you! I loathe you and everything you are! I loathe your stupid fashion and your stupid hair and your stupid voice! And everything you say just makes me see red! I don't know how any person can be so fucking detached from what's going on!"

"How dare—"

Luka grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Don't you see that we're dying?! Don't you see that you narrowly escaped death yesterday?! Don't you know what it means that my best friend DIED trying to keep you safe?! You ungrateful bitch!"

"You can't call me that!"

"I'll call you whatever I want! Against my better judgment, I saved your life yesterday! You would've been dead without me! It could've been you! You owe me! You—"

Her voice died in her throat. Her face went slack. Luka blinked, her eyes focusing on something only she saw. Gakupo's face, smiling.

I owe you.

Luka felt tears fall from her cheeks. Then her brow furrowed once again, rage twisted her face, and she spat out, "I wish it had been you!"

"What?"

"I wish it had been you, dead and sinking in that plane! If I could go back, I'd swap you for Gakupo in a heartbeat! Him and me, we'd have a grand old time here! We'd laugh and make jokes and have fun! Now I'm stuck with you, wishing you would just keel over and DIE!"

Miku froze then, her own eyes welling with tears.

"Doesn't feel so good, does it?!" Luka said through gritted teeth, rage still tugging at the corners of her lips and wrinkling her nose. "Well, someone did die. Someone died for you. And I'm working to keep you alive. Even though I hate you. So show me at least a modicum of respect, got that?!"

Miku didn't reply, merely pulling away from Luka's grasp. The pilot released her, watching as the younger woman retreated, curling in the furthest possible corner. So Luka returned to her own corner, an angry sneer still present on her features. She turned her back to the other woman and laid down, cradling her injured shoulder.

And quietly, so that Miku couldn't hear her, Luka cried.