Alone, Together
Sun is lonely.
She sleeps alone but for Jin. Sound carries across the beach, through the darkness, and Jin holds Sun back when she moves to approach the fire and the people clustered around it. He smooths her hair back from her head, and does not speak to her. She wishes that he would, but is glad that he does not, because he is always duty here, and honour.
She understands the others, a little. Understands these words: hold this; stay here; watch out. Even when the others speak in words she has not yet learned, she understands these ideas, these feelings: sorrow, and fear, hope and the loss thereof. She watches, and listens, and does not join them in their tears and their laughter.
Jin tries to be strong, and his strength leaves no room for Sun. He will not have her speak of her fear, or of the ache in her heart for those left behind. I will protect you, he says, I am all you need--but he cannot protect her from her loneliness, and does not think to try. Sun longs to place her palm flat on the blonde girl's full belly, and feel life when all she sees is destruction. She wishes to learn of what has been found in the jungle; to listen to stories of the people awaiting their return; to be soothed even as she soothes others.
Sun is never alone. Jin guards her honour, there and here alike, and she may not leave his sight for long. She shares the beach with the living and the dead, and their voices carry to her day and night, unanswered.
Sun is never alone, and yet her heart is full of loneliness.