Yukinoshita Yukino looked down at her left ankle, swollen up like a steamed bun, and spoke calmly: “It should be a severe sprain.
I can’t tell whether it’s fractured.”
“From the shape, it should just be a sprain — but to be safe I’ll need to confirm.
Bear with me a moment.” Isac slipped off the girl’s shoe, then lightly tapped the sole of her foot, asking at the same time: “Any pain?”
It was the first time Yukinoshita Yukino had ever had her foot held by a member of the opposite sex.
Her instinct was to pull back, but given the circumstances, she forced the impulse down.
Upon hearing Isac’s question, she answered immediately: “A little.”
“Where exactly is the pain?
On the surface of the ankle, or deeper in the bone?”
“It should be the surface.” Yukinoshita Yukino sounded somewhat uncertain.
“Fracture’s unlikely, but I can’t rule it out completely.” Isac nodded, then propped the backpack under her left leg and instructed: “Don’t move around.
I’m heading out to see if there are any medical supplies, and to gather firewood while I’m at it.
If no rescue comes, we’re most likely spending the night here.”
“I understand… Thank you for the trouble.” Yukinoshita Yukino was not a woman who failed to recognize a kindness.
She knew perfectly well that Isac had saved her, and if she couldn’t repay him on the spot, then the least she could do was avoid adding to his burden.
“Stay alive first.
Worry about everything else later.” Leaving those words behind, Isac headed for the cabin opening.
This time he didn’t move at a leisurely pace — instead, he kept himself as active as possible, because only that way could his body generate enough heat to sustain him out in the cold without adequate winter gear for any meaningful stretch of time.
Yukinoshita Yukino watched Isac walk away, only pulling her gaze back once he had vanished into the wind and snow.
She said nothing — instead, she laboriously dragged the briefcase nearby toward her, pulled out the scrap papers inside, tore them up again and again, and finally worked them into tinder for fire-starting.
This was the only thing she could do for now.
Outside the cabin, Isac picked up the boxed meal he’d dropped earlier, and along the way spotted a red emergency rescue kit half-buried in the snow with only one corner exposed.
Inside were a roll of gauze, a 100ml bottle of iodine antiseptic, and a small bottle of painkillers.
Isac immediately shook out a single pill and swallowed it with a mouthful of snow.
After all, his own physical condition was only marginally better than Yukinoshita Yukino’s — the pain radiating from his limbs hadn’t faded, it had merely been temporarily pinned down by his survival drive.
Carefully tucking the first-aid kit into his coat, Isac turned his gaze toward the coniferous forest not far off, glanced up once at the dull grey sky, and started in.
Isac didn’t venture deep into the conifers.
For one thing, he was unfamiliar with the terrain and could easily get turned around; for another, his primary purpose in entering was to gather firewood — and, while at it, to look for any suitable tinder.
Ideally he’d find a few pine trees.
Pine resin and dry pine needles were both excellent tinder in snowy conditions.
If he couldn’t find any, no matter — the briefcase he’d discovered earlier in the cabin still had a stack of A4 paper inside, which could also serve as tinder when balled up.
The drawback was the effect would be significantly worse than pine resin — harder to get going.
While gathering dry firewood, Isac occasionally picked up a stone to examine it.
Not for self-defense, but to check whether he might find flint.
Since aircraft don’t permit passengers to carry lighters or flint strikers, as things stood the only fire-starting devices he had on him were probably the phone in his pocket and the laptop in the backpack now propping up Yukinoshita Yukino’s foot.
But those were one-shot ignition tools.
If rescue didn’t come in short order, flint was what would guarantee them a long-term source of fire.
Unfortunately, by the time Isac returned to the wreckage with an armful of firewood, he still hadn’t found any flint.
The good news was that he’d located a dead pine tree, and managed to scrape some dry needles and resin off of it.
Back inside the aircraft cabin, sheltered from most of the wind and snow, Isac felt himself come back to life.
Then he caught sight of the wads of shredded paper piled on Yukinoshita Yukino’s lap — and the moment he grasped her intent, a faint smile surfaced on his face.
Not because Yukinoshita Yukino had done a particularly impressive job, but because she too was contributing what she could toward their survival.
The grit and resolve to keep pushing forward mattered more than any piece of survival knowledge or skill.
“Tinder,” Yukinoshita Yukino said briefly, noticing his gaze and offering an explanation.
“I found some pine resin and dry needles too.” Isac fished his haul out of his pocket to show her.
That unspoken understanding brought a smile to both of their faces for the very first time.
“The shame is I couldn’t find any flint.
Nearby it was all just ordinary stones — and anything else was buried too deep in the snow for me to reach.” Isac said with some regret.
“We can use a battery to start a fire.” Yukinoshita Yukino produced the phone she’d been warming against her chest.
It was the latest-model iPhone, in pristine condition — she must have bought it not long ago and taken excellent care of it.
Isac shook his head and pulled out his own phone, saying: “Use mine.
Yours might still work — later, if we can power it on, we might be able to call for help.
Mine’s already a few years old, dropped at least once before, and probably won’t boot anyway.
Might as well let it contribute its last bit of heat.”
Yukinoshita Yukino nodded without saying much more, simply slipping her phone back into her inner pocket.
Isac expertly pried open the back panel of his phone and removed the lithium battery inside.
Then he placed the resin-coated paper scraps onto the middle section of a length of metal wire he’d salvaged from a crevice in the aircraft wreckage.
Finally, using twigs as makeshift insulators, he pressed each end of the wire against the battery’s positive and negative terminals.
Before long, a thin wisp of grey smoke rose slowly from the paper scraps, followed by sparks.
Isac quickly released the wire, cupped his hands around the paper bundle, and carefully blew on the embers.
The sparks glowed brighter and brighter until a clear flame emerged — and he hurriedly began feeding thin twigs onto it.
Only when the crackle of burning wood started echoing inside the cabin did Yukinoshita Yukino and Isac finally let out a sigh of relief.
They had fire.
In the wilderness — especially in this kind of extreme sub-zero environment — having a fire versus not having one were two entirely different states of being.
Without exaggeration, if there had been no fire, neither Yukinoshita Yukino nor Isac would have made it through the night.
The daytime temperature was already well below freezing — wouldn’t tonight drop to twenty or thirty below zero?
Even the freezer at home wasn’t that cold!
Isac tore open two boxes of airline meal, confirmed they were sealed in aluminum foil, and confidently set them beside the fire to warm.
With the included chopsticks he scraped out a small empty section in one container, packed it with clean snow, and waited for it to melt and come to a boil.
Once they finished the airline meals, Isac didn’t intend to throw the containers away — until they found proper cups, the boxes could absolutely serve as water vessels.
With all of this taken care of, Isac caught sight of Yukinoshita Yukino’s brow furrowing intermittently, and fished out a painkiller to hand to her.
“Painkiller.
I took one earlier — it works.”