"To the girl who was marked to die-
And the version of himself that did."
Y/N didn't ask for this.
It was supposed to be a girls' trip. A few days of laughter, beaches, and blurry memories.
But somewhere between the airport terminal and the baggage...
The sun melted into the ocean in streaks of molten gold, setting the sky above Koh Phi Phi on fire. Waves brushed the shore with a soft rhythm, and laughter echoed across the beach-carefree, loud, and full of salt-kissed joy.
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YN lay on a hammock strung between two palm trees, a half-finished coconut drink in one hand, her other hand dangling lazily over the side as she watched her friends dance barefoot in the sand. Music from a nearby beach shack thumped in the background-some DJ remix of a 2000s pop hit-and the air smelled of grilled seafood, coconut oil, and freedom.
This was the fifth day of their trip to Thailand, and YN couldn't remember the last time she had felt so... light. Her suitcase, somewhere back in the hotel, was stuffed with souvenirs-handmade soaps, sea shell necklaces, a questionable pair of elephant-print pants-and her gallery was filled with blurry, overexposed photos and videos of girls screaming on tuk-tuks, jumping off cliffs into turquoise waters, and eating mango sticky rice at 3 a.m.
It was one of those trips that didn't need planning. One that unfolded itself like a postcard-spontaneous, loud, beautiful in its chaos.
"YN!" a voice called out.
She turned her head. Leila, her best friend since college, was running toward her, eyes gleaming with trouble. "We're going snorkeling tomorrow. Maya Bay. You're coming. No excuses."
YN groaned, laughing. "What if I drown?"
"Then at least you'll die in paradise!"
---
The next morning, they were out by 7:00 a.m., crammed into a long-tail boat, saltwater spraying their faces as the engine roared and the boat carved through the turquoise waters of the Andaman Sea. The air was thick with humidity, but the wind made it bearable. YN stood at the front, arms outstretched, her loose white shirt whipping around her as she let the wind fill her lungs. For once, she wasn't overthinking. She wasn't planning. She just was.
They reached Maya Bay, that dreamy, postcard-perfect curve of white sand guarded by limestone cliffs. The water was so clear it looked unreal. As they snorkeled, schools of neon fish darted past them, disappearing into coral gardens beneath the surface. The sea was warm and soft, like silk.
Leila surfaced beside her, pulling off her goggles. "This is what healing feels like."
YN smiled under the sun. "It feels like a dream I don't want to wake up from."
And for the rest of the day, she didn't. They visited hidden lagoons, swam in glowing plankton at night, and had dinner on the beach with strangers who felt like friends. It was messy and beautiful, every second of it.
On their last evening, they sat on the rooftop of a café in Krabi, watching lanterns float into the night sky.
"I feel like something is about to change," YN said quietly, her fingers curled around a cup of Thai tea.
