Zain's Chronicle – Lost in the Vast Ocean - I

The world doesn’t revolve around one soul. Somewhere else, someone else fights for survival, facing their own struggles that no one else will ever know.

Upon awakening, Zain found himself lying on a small raft in the middle of the ocean. Rubbing his eyes, he blinked away the haze of sleep, only to see the endless expanse of cerulean water stretching out in all directions as far as the eye could see. The horizon merged seamlessly with the sky.

“Where in the world am I?” the words slipped out of his mouth seamlessly.

He couldn’t recall anything about getting there. The last thing he remembered was going to his college and… nothing at all…

In the center stood the mast. Since he couldn't remember anything at all, to alleviate the heaviness he felt, he leaned against the mast, gazing at the blue sky. He lost himself in the endless blue. It was captivating and mesmerizing, so much so that words escaped him in that moment and a thought crossed his mind.

Maybe dying here isn’t that bad. At least this place is quiet and tranquil, unlike the grime and filth of humanity.

"We'll always be best friends, Zain. No matter what happens, our bond will never break apart!”

…

"No, Zain didn’t do anything wrong. It was my decision, not his. Please, just let him go."

…

"Why are you crying, Zain? Death is a part of life. Everyone dies—some face it sooner, others later. I just happened to leave earlier, but you must stay strong. You have a bright future ahead of you. You have to keep living—at least for my sake… no, for our sake! For the sake of our promise!"

…

“Haruka!”

CRACKLE!

As the sudden sound of lightning struck, Zain jolted awake from his slumber. The ocean had taken on a disastrous appearance, its once serene surface now roiling with turmoil. The wind whipped fiercely from east to west, putting him at risk of falling from the raft. He clung desperately to the mast with both hands as the waves tossed the raft to and fro. Lightning flashed continuously, illuminating the darkened sky. Those lightning flashes were at least a hundred times brighter than regular ones. In the midst of tempestuous winds, lightning streaked across the sky, yet there was no sign of a single raindrop.

To be honest, he had been hoping for a bit of rain. He was so thirsty it felt like he could keel over.

About an hour later, the rain began to fall. Zain looked up, opening his mouth to the sky. The raindrops quenched his dry lips, and he felt a surge of life coursing through him once more.

The storm seemed to calm down a bit after about three to four hours. Perhaps it was happening farther away than he had thought, although it still had enough strength to threaten his stability.

But he was growing weary from constantly clinging to the mast. His hands were becoming exhausted. Then, a risky yet potentially lifesaving idea crossed his mind. He shifted his weight to cling to the mast with his legs, allowing his weary hands to release their grip. He quickly removed his shirt and used it to bind his hands around the mast, forming makeshift bonds.

A sigh of relief accompanied by a deep breath escaped him.

And the storm continued for only God knows how many hours it had been. He lost track of time. In the midst of the storm, he fell asleep, which showed just how exhausted and tired he had become.

By the time he opened his eyes again, the storm had passed, and the sky was clear once more.

How many hours had it been? Or days?

His body felt completely broken down, and the heat was starting to overwhelm him. He began to feel dehydrated after lying on the raft for countless hours. But then a glimmer of hope appeared—or so he believed.

He glimpsed an island, a mere one or two kilometers away, and it infused his battered body with a flicker of hope to survive. Yet Fate had a cruel twist in store. As he turned, his hazy gaze fell upon a sight that robbed him of speech: a pack of sharks closing in on him.

So, is this the end for him, eh? Well, be it! Not that he cared anymore.

“You must live on, Zain!”

Her voice echoed once more.

Her again… he guessed he had no choice then.

He had no other option. Zain stirred from his prone position, tearing strips from his tattered T-shirt.

The raft yielded a jagged piece of wood, and with trembling hands, Zain sliced his palm.

“Arggh! No, this is no time to feel pain!” he muttered through gritted teeth.

Blood welled up, staining the torn fabric. Once it was sufficiently soaked, he hurled it into the ocean, as far from him as possible. The sharks followed the crimson trail, veering away from him.

Exhausted, Zain collapsed once more onto the raft’s floor.

Oh… God…

He hadn’t realized the wound was deeper than he thought. Blood continued to flow, mixing with the water around the raft as his hand remained partially submerged. He couldn’t lift it out; he no longer had the strength. He had lost too much blood and was on the verge of passing out. Through blurred vision, he saw sharks approaching, drawn by the scent of blood. The island was still about 800 meters away. As he drifted closer to unconsciousness, the sharks closed in. When they were just three or four meters away, Zain finally blacked out.

He woke with a start, blinking at the unfamiliar light filtering through a thatched roof. The salty scent of the ocean was replaced by the earthy aroma of wood and dried grass. He found himself lying on a straw mat inside a small hut.

Gingerly, he moved his hand and saw it was wrapped in clean cloth, the wound carefully dressed. Someone had tended to him.

“Where am I?” he muttered.

Suddenly, a wave of déjà vu washed over him. He remembered everything: getting lost in the ocean, the unexpected storm, and the terrifying shark attack.

But how am I even alive? Those sharks were about to tear me apart. How did I survive?

He lost himself in deep thought. Suddenly, the door of the tiny hut creaked open, and he tensed. A moment later, a girl about his age stepped inside. The moment he saw her, words escaped him. She was the very definition of beauty, leaving him utterly speechless in her presence.

Her eyes were like pools of midnight, deep and mysterious, holding the secrets of the universe within their inky depths. Her hair cascaded down like a waterfall of pure obsidian, shimmering with an otherworldly luster. In stark contrast, her skin glowed with the radiance of the morning sun, warm and luminous, as if she carried the light of a thousand dawns within her.

She spoke to him, but her words were completely foreign. Her language was unlike anything he had ever heard. Yet, the warmth and kindness in her eyes made it clear that she was the one who had been caring for him.

Zain gestured with his hands, indicating that he couldn’t comprehend her words. She looked visibly concerned, her brow furrowing with worry. She was likely trying to assess his condition. He gestured to her again that he was feeling okay. She seemed to understand and let out a sigh of relief. Then, she motioned for him to follow her and stepped outside.

He followed, unsure of what to expect, and was met with a sight he hadn’t anticipated: two women and four men lying on the ground outside.

What stood out was that they were wearing modern clothes, unlike the girl, who was dressed in simple, wrapped fabric that covered her whole body. Zain attempted to communicate through gestures, silently inquiring about their identity. In response, she pointed toward the vast expanse of the sea. It struck him then—they, too, were like him: unexpected guests in this unforgiving realm.

But how did they get here? Did they also arrive like him? Or was it just a coincidence?

Suddenly, the girl patted Zain on the back, startling him. He turned to her, and she pointed a finger toward herself.

"Aisha al-Fatan."

"Eh?"

Zain pointed to her and gestured, asking if that was her name. She nodded in confirmation. He was genuinely surprised.

Wait… isn’t that an Arabic name? Does she know any Arabic, then?

He looked at her again. She was gazing at him warmly. Taking a chance, he decided to speak to her, though he had almost no expectations.

"Nice to meet you," he said.

“Nice to meet you too,” she replied.

To his astonishment, her face lit up with recognition. She responded in hesitant but clear speech.

“Yeah. Wait, what?! You can understand me?” Zain exclaimed.

She nodded gently.

“You should have spoken to me earlier. I couldn’t understand a word of what you were saying before.”

She looked shy and turned her face away, avoiding his gaze.

“Sorry, I got a bit excited. Pardon me,” he said, trying to soften his tone.

“No, it’s okay,” she replied in a calm voice.

"Actually, my father was an Arab merchant who came here for business. Something happened, and so I've been living in this country for about 11 years," she explained.

“Oh, I see. You might have thought that I didn’t understand your language, Arabic.”

“But how do you know so many languages? You don’t seem like you’d be from around here.” She asked.

“Well, I am half Arab and half Japanese.”

"Japanese? What's that?"

"That means people from Japan."

"Is it a country?"

Doesn't she know about Japan? One of the most technologically advanced countries in the world!

"Um... yes. But you seriously don’t know about it?"

"Sorry, I don’t."

"That's really interesting. Anyway, my father is Arab, and he married a Japanese woman. So, I am half Japanese and half Arab, and I learned both languages."

“Oh, that’s really interesting. You come from a country I’ve never heard of. The world sure is so big.”

What is she? A knucklehead or something…

“Oh, you haven’t told me your name yet.”

“Sorry, my bad. I totally forgot. I’m Zain Masaki.”

“What an odd name! I’ve never heard something like that before.”

“Well, the world sure is big,” he said, mimicking her earlier gesture in a playful act.

She burst into light laughter, gentle yet charming.

Beautiful. She truly is the very definition of beauty.

The only words that came to Zain’s mind.