one.
the beginning of the hunt

"A first sign of the beginning of understanding is the wish to die."
— Franz Kafka

A sad stillness had settled over Damyang ever since the disappearances. Like a blanket of freshly fallen snow, the hush settled over the tops of old houses and slithering roads, creaking bridges and brutalist office buildings, slouching power lines and empty playgrounds. As if the town wasn't quiet enough before all of this. Even the diner wasn't as bustling as usual. Damyang Diner was the only establishment in the entire town that stayed open past eight pm, and even more unusual for this slow-moving town, Damyang Diner was open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. The ever-glowing neon lights of the establishment's huge sign shone like its own full moon every night. Every other store could be closed, but you could always count on Damyang Diner, proudly serving its customers for just over fifty years.

Most Damyang residents lived and died in their tiny little town, but the diner made the five-minute drive (or twenty-minute walk, if you were up for it) feel like a plane ride to another country. It was like a gargantuan hand grabbed a classic diner nestled in the suburbs of some random American neighborhood, parking lot and all, and dropped it right in the middle of some rural eup in South Korea. Why any gargantuan hand would want to do that may remain a mystery to us forever; perhaps that hand was attached to an oversized child. Like moving building blocks from one place to another just because they could. Well, the real origin story of Damyang Diner was that of the child of an expat from New Jersey and a Korean woman from Seoul who wanted to bring something different to the small town. But that's a long story for another day.

Kids liked to joke around and claim that Damyang Diner was really just a front. Oh, you don't actually go to the diner to eat, they would say, grins mischievously big and eyes twinkling like stars. Don't you know? There's a teleportation machine in the back. It'll take you right to New York City. You'll get caught in a shoot-out. It'll be like an episode of CSI: NY! Whether or not there was actually a teleportation machine in the back was up for debate. But the terrazzo floors and retro Formica dining tables definitely made it seem like you were someplace else. There was even a jukebox comfortably nestled in the corner, where most of the old people liked to sit. They would rest their old bones at a booth and stuff the machine full of quarters—there was a whole jar of them right next to it, all provided by an expat named Karl who lived by himself at the edge of town— and American rock music from the sixties and seventies would slither around the booths and counters and patrons and make its way into your brain. Some days it would play the more folksy Bob Dylan songs, his crooning voice floating over the strums of his guitar, singing, Then you better start swimmin' or you'll sink like a stone / For the times they are a-changin'; other days it would be Janis Joplin, her voice like a siren, Help each other, honey, if you can / Because it looks like everybody in this whole round world / Is down on me; and then some other days Crosby, Stills & Nash would be on, their three voices harmonizing into some amalgamation of both pleasantry and melancholy, I am yours, you are mine, you are what you are...

But today, Damyang Diner was quiet, just like the rest of the town for once. The jukebox stood sadly in the corner, the quarter jar untouched. Only a few regulars were seated at the bar, watching the news on the TV like a bunch of soldiers about to head off on a suicide mission.

Mana was waiting for her friends to arrive. It wasn't yet five o'clock, and the sun was still high in the sky with the promise of a hot summer. Summer vacation had just started and the lack of a concrete schedule left her unsure of how to spend her time. She felt like a ship lost at sea, except her ship was more like a tiny boat full of holes, and the water around her was full of sharks with biologically inaccurate appetites who were intent on feasting on human flesh... her flesh. She was used to being alone—it was a default state of being for her, because if she was alone then that meant she was safe; safe from judging eyes, safe from social interaction, safe from her stepfather, maybe—but something about the atmosphere of the diner, the whole town today, really, had her feeling especially nervous.

Now, she may be used to being alone, but that didn't mean she particularly enjoyed it.

Like most people, Mana didn't like being alone. People's natural inclination towards community was a product of human evolution, and it was passed down to her the moment her mother decided that being with her first husband wasn't enough. So, no, Mana didn't like being alone. She was just much better at hiding it. Sometimes she became so good at hiding it that she could even manage to fool herself, if just for a little while. Oh, nobody wants to partner up with me for this group project? No problem. I can do it just as well as the others all by myself. Nobody wants to sit next to me in class? No problem. Now I have more room for my stuff.

She could be alone. No problem.

It was no secret how people thought of Mana. She knew she looked a little... off. It just took too much energy for her to keep up appearances. She was so worried about other things, she just couldn't keep up. She ate like a bird, if at all, because there was just no way for her to keep much food down. Mana knew her limits. A few more bites than usual and she'd throw it right back up. Her body refused to take in any more than she needed—or, rather, than she thought she deserved. Perhaps in another place, or another life, she could have been pretty. Her face could be angelic if it weren't always clouded in shadow. People might have noticed that she was pretty if you looked at her closely, but she was never present enough for anyone to notice. Mana knew she looked like she was always about to float off somewhere and never come back. Like if you took your eyes off of her for a moment, she would be gone. Ann told her about it once, trying to look at her but really just looking at somebody that looked like her, because she wasn't all there. "I don't know," he had said, his gaze unwavering, "I just feel like you might disappear if I don't look at you hard enough."

And so, as much as she hated being alone, a tiny voice in her head always managed to convince her that it was her fault. That it was her fault nobody liked her because she didn't look quite right, or she didn't act quite right. Not even a catchy song could get that thought out of her head. It's your fault. It's all your fault. Quit your complaining. It's your fault. Once the seed had been planted all those year ago (her stepfather's voice echoed in her head), there was no turning back. The seed had sprouted, the seed had grown, and now its roots were wedged inside every crevice of her body, forever and ever. Mana remembered a picture of the peripheral nervous system in one of her anatomy textbooks, all those bundles of nerves extending all the way down to the toes and branching out in every direction imaginable, and she pictured herself as a big tree. That one seed had sprouted, and she wouldn't be normal ever again. As soon as she became of age she'd opt to become an organ donor and one day some unlucky doctor would have to cut her up and they'd realize that she didn't have a peripheral nervous system. They'd open her up and she would bleed dirt instead of blood. They'd try to cut deeper but the roots of that evil seed would be too thick. My goodness, the unlucky doctor would say, this is no ordinary peripheral nervous system. Why, these are roots! And then they would study her unusual body and maybe then she would be useful for once.

But the delusion of some doctor cutting her up was stopped short. Mana thought she could hear something, but it wasn't anything coming from the diner. No, the sound was from... outside? Her head snapped to attention, her eyes glazing over.

The voices were very faint at first, coming from somewhere just beyond the parking lot. This frightened her. How could she hear something from so far away? The drone of the TV, the clinking of cutlery against plates, the muffled chatter of the other patrons of the diner; there was no way she would be able to physically hear anything from beyond the glass windows. But just past the parking lot, at the edge of the treeline, she knew there were voices. They sounded nervous, jittery... like someone contemplating whether or not they should go through with something. She focused intently on the sound, just out of her reach so she couldn't quite make out the words, hyper-fixated on deciphering. Mana was afraid that she had finally lost her mind, but she was still determined to hear them, even if they were just a part of her delusions. A waitress came by, probably to take her order, but the stiff look of concentration on Mana's face drove her away. Everyone in town knew Mana was a little... off, per say, but the ball of sweat forming on her forehead was something else.

The voices suddenly started to become louder. A crescendo of sound hit her, as if she had slammed into a brick wall. Mana covered her ears, cowering into the table, but she couldn't keep out the words.

I'm so hungry

Eat, eat

More

Where do I get more?

Hungry

Help

"Mana!"

Mana's head snapped up from its refuge in her arms. For a moment she looked like she had no idea where she was.

"Yes?" she responded, her voice sounding far away.

"You fell asleep waiting? I was calling your name for ages." It was Park Hyejin, but they liked to be called Hye because it didn't sound as girly (Mana didn't understand but she respected it nonetheless). They had tried to make a joke but their voice didn't make it sound so convincing.

Mana turned to face them, but Hye could tell that she was looking right through them. Her eyes were like twinkling glass marbles in her sockets, which had gone almost impossibly wide, and it took Hye a few moments to remind themself that this was their friend, someone they had known since childhood, and there was no need to be afraid. But Mana looked like a different person.

"Are you okay?" they finally asked. Anything to break the silence, thick between them like mud. Something in Mana must have shifted then, because the look in her eyes was gone as suddenly as it had arrived.

Mana didn't answer, but this was normal for her. She looked like she was back on earth again, at least; her eyes weren't someplace else anymore. Hye could almost see her retreating back into her shell of silence, but again, this was normal. As long as her eyes didn't look like they would pop out of her sockets, then Hye was satisfied. They sat down in the booth next to Mana, but not too close because they knew she didn't like it when people got too close, and flagged down a waiter to ask for two glasses of water. Of course—the other three never ordered water at the diner. Ann always got a root beer float, because it came in a beer mug and he liked to slam it down on the table as if he were drinking the real thing (but they all knew that he would never drink the real thing, because god forbid those calories actually ended up in his body); Jin liked fruity and fizzy drinks, so she would always ask for some wretched concoction of Fanta, Sprite, and Cherry Cola (but only Hye's mom could come up with the ratio that satisfied her completely, so on days when she wasn't working Jin would just ask for an iced tea); and Jae would always order a ginger ale without fail, like some old man constantly suffering from indigestion. Mana liked that about Hye. They didn't talk much but they noticed a lot. It reminded Mana of herself.

The two of them settled into an easy silence, opting to people watch instead of making idle conversation. That was another thing Mana liked about Hye. They didn't like talking, and neither did she. And the silence that resulted didn't feel like it was her fault. In fact, she was almost comfortable in the silences they shared, and that was not a feeling Yoo Mana felt often.

Lee Jin and Shin Jaehyung were the next to arrive. Jin had burst through the door, chattering excitedly, with Jae following closely behind, looking amused and only mildly exasperated. A few heads turned at the sound of Jin's voice, clear like the ringing of a bell and melodic like the coo of a bird. And those heads stayed turned, eyes following her as she weaved in between tables and made her way to the corner where Mana and Hye had set up camp. Jin wasn't that tall, standing at a humble 160 centimeters, but years of ballet had shaped her body into a series of elegant lines that seemed to extend even past the length of her limbs. Boy, was she a sight for sore eyes.

Somebody had written her a passionate love letter once, stuffed it into her locker so that it fell right at her perfect feet when she was putting her school slippers on. She read it to Hye one night, when they were splayed out on the soft carpeted floor of her bedroom, yet another one of their countless sleepovers. The five buddies were close, there was no doubt about it, but Jin and Hye had something else, too, something a little different and worth holding onto. So Jin read this love letter out loud to Hye, somehow looking both flattered and utterly uninterested at the same time. Such was the life for the school's—the town's, honestly—Golden Girl. It read, "Your eyes are the stars that guide me / Your hair a black waterfall, the threads a galaxy / Your laugh, it rings like a bell / And for you, I would fall into hell." They both agreed that it was kind of creepy, but there was no name or return address on the envelope, so they both agreed to put the letter away and never think of it again. But as creepy as it was, anybody that laid eyes on Jin would begrudgingly agree that everything the letter had said was true. Jin's eyes did glow like stars, and her hair did flow down her shoulders like a cosmic waterfall, and her laugh did sound as clear as a bell.

So of course people wondered, why oh why was she friends with the lot of them? Now, nobody would consider them the bottom of the social ladder—although Mana did cut it a little close sometimes, and a lot of people were scared of Ann, but there were still some girls who liked the bad boy thing he had going on—but people still wondered. Let's face it—Jin could do so much better, aim so much higher. She was one of those people that was friends with everybody (though at what cost, they would never know), but anybody with functioning eyes could see that there was something there, that she had something a bit more with her childhood friends. Why? Jin didn't know why herself, to be honest. Yes, they had been friends since childhood, but so had literally everyone else in this desolate little town. So why them? Jin supposed it was one of those things that just was, and that explanation was good enough for her. She didn't like thinking in circles. If she thought about things any harder it would only drive her insane, so she found a little box in her mind (she had many of these, locked or sometimes sealed without a key) to put the question in and sealed it away without so much as a second thought.

Jin plopped herself down in the seat across from Mana, the booth so old that the entire table jerked under her weight, and proceeded to chatter away endlessly. Her new hobby was trying to get Mana to say more than one sentence, but so far all of her efforts resulted in failure. This only made her try harder. Meanwhile, Jae sat down in front of Hye and they thought their heart might leap right out of their throat. No matter how many times they saw him it still managed to surprise them just how much they liked him. They probably even loved him, but that was something to thinking about for another day.

"You guys order anything yet?" he asked, an easy smile on his lips. He was only eighteen and he was already forming smile lines around the corners of his mouth. It was because he always had that easy smile on. Jae had closed himself off significantly ever since his mother passed, but he still bled with sincerity. Even a blind person could see that Jae was no liar or cheater. Jae was a solid guy, Ann liked to say.

"Just two waters."

Jae flagged down another waiter and asked for a ginger ale (classic) amd an iced tea for Jin, who was no longer talking but instead trying to copy Mana's meticulous folding of a napkin into a paper crane. After a beat of silence he also asked for a root beer for Ann, who hadn't arrived yet.

"Nice to have all of us together again," Jae commented. He glanced around the table and a soft smile graced his face—not the easygoing one he always had on like a reflex. This one was a little bit smaller, but it was more genuine. Hye thanked whatever being was up there for letting them be one of the few who could actually see it.

"Minus Ann," Hye had to say, because if they stared at him for any longer they might just combust.

"Yeah, he's late as usual."

"I hope he's late because he's taking that shower," Hye laughed.

"Well, we can only hope."

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Ann materialized before them. He was wearing ripped Levi's and a sand-colored hardware jacket from the shop he worked at, the collar popped and the sleeves pulled back to expose his veiny, muscular arms. There was a permanent furrow between his brows so he always looked like he was thinking deeply about something—and whatever he was thinking about didn't seem to please him. To anyone else, he would have looked like he was about to start a fight, but his childhood friends knew better. That was just good old Ann.

"Hey. I'm late because I actually took a shower," he said gruffly.

"Are you sure? I can smell you from over here!" Jin laughed, the last half of her jibe sounding muffled as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Oh, shove it, princess," Ann retorted, but with no real malice behind his voice. Ann was usually very quiet but he always tried to reply to Jin's jokes. He was the only one who had the patience to humor her, which was surprising considering how easily he was provoked by other people.

With everyone finally there, Jae waved a waiter over and they all ordered. The meager spending money of a high school student who has yet to start their summer job prompted them to place two orders of disco fries for all five of them to share. Ann was the only one of them who worked all year round, but that money was not for his diner escapades; it was to distribute among his family. When the waiter asked, "Will that be all?" Jae nodded shyly, like a child caught doing something wrong. 

Right after their waiter left to relay their order over to the kitchen, the entire diner fell silent. A group of about fifteen people had morosely walked through the door, their yellow safety vests appearing one by one as they went through the entrance like some sort garish parade. But there was nothing to celebrate. Yet another day had gone by with no good news to be told. It was the search party, back after a long, fruitless day of meandering through the woods. There was no need for anybody to ask if they had found anything because their steely faces said it all. Today marked the end of the second week and people were starting to lose hope. But no one dared to say anything to the poor parents.

"You know, I've been wondering," Jin started quietly, always the first to break the silence, "why are they searching the forest like they've gone mad?"

"They're doing what they can. What's wrong with that?" Ann asked defensively. His boss over at the hardware shop had joined the search party immediately but had to go back to tend to his shop after about a week—Ann was unable to pick up any more extra shifts to cover for him.

"But didn't the paper say that the last place they were seen was when they were on their way to the diner?" Jin pushed. She hated being questioned.

"The forest is right there," Mana said in a quiet, steady voice. It was the first thing she had said since everyone had gathered. She pointed at the treeline past the parking lot with a look of apprehension. Only Hye seemed to notice, and it confused them but also left them feeling a little bit scared, too. Because that was where Mana was looking in when her eyes had glazed over.

"Yeah, I know," Jin began again, "but that doesn't explain why they've been searching around—"

"Around the shrine," Jae interrupted gravely. He looked apologetically at Jin for a moment, guilty for cutting her off, but then began to speak rapidly, like if he talked any slower he would lose what he was trying to say. "I heard my dad on the phone with the sheriff. They've been talking a lot lately, since my mom..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. He cleared his throat and began again, "He told him that they've been searching around the shrine."

A look of horrible realization seemed to pass over everyone's faces, as if somebody had suddenly pulled up the blinds and illuminated their faces with deadly light. Everyone except for Hye.

"What?" Hye demanded. "What's up with the shrine?"

author's notes; 10.24.2019

Here is the first chapter, finally! Thanks for waiting so long. Let me know what you guys think! Until next chapter :)

Also, Hye uses they/them pronouns, so if you're a little confused about who is talking just keep that in mind! Hopefully I have made it clear enough.