San slowly got up into a sitting posture. He reached out and grabbed her hand. He was deliberately avoiding her gaze.

He felt her hand. For a woman’s hand, it was embarrassingly tough, calloused, and scarred. Scars spread out like holes an earthworm had dug in the ground. Her hands were also filled with rough calluses and unnatural bumps from having reset broken bones.

He reached out and touched her chest. It felt rugged rather than soft and supple. Her chest was like a modern freeway network with recovered scars and wounds branching off in all directions.

They naturally touched each other’s body freely. From their various battles and struggles within the last year, there wasn’t a place that they hadn’t injured or damaged in one way or another.

Wherever they went, they worked and lived together. Oftentimes, they would become each other’s hands and feet. There were days when they had to help carry the other’s urine and feces, and there were times when one had to hand over chewed food from one’s mouth to the other person’s mouth.

Their sense of unity, formed from extreme trust, far exceeded what...