Taemin followed Jongin over to one of the larger tents, where the younger lifted the flap covering the entrance and poked his head in. “Hi Kyungsoo-hyung,” he said, and a short, dark-haired boy looked up. “Can you whip up something for the newbie?”

“Sure thing,” Kyungsoo replied, and offered Taemin a small smile. Taemin returned it, his stomach growling at the prospect of being filled.

A few minutes later, Kyungsoo emerged from the tent carrying a plate piled high with food. Taemin’s mouth watered as the other boy set it down in front of him, the tantalizing scents wafting up from the plate filling his nostrils until he was practically salivating. “Thank you,” he gasped, really meaning it.

“No problem,” Kyungsoo laughed. “Enjoy.”

As the other boy walked away, Jongin plopped down next to Taemin and watched as he devoured his food hungrily. “Geez, you’re disgusting when you eat,” he teased, and Taemin swatted him playfully on the shoulder. He was surprised at the closeness he already felt with Jongin—he’d known the boy for all of one hour, and yet the naturalness between the two implied a friendship that was much longer. Again, the overwhelming feeling that he somehow knew the other washed over him—an almost painful nostalgia that prodded at the back of his nonexistent memory—and yet, Taemin had to accept that that was impossible; nobody remembered anything about where they’d all come from, after all.

“Isn’t Kyungsoo-hyung’s cooking great?” Jongin said just then, pulling Taemin from his thoughts. He nodded, his mouth too full of delicious food to reply, and Jongin chuckled. “Eat up,” he added, as if Taemin required encouragement. “You’ll need the energy.”

After Taemin had finished eating, Jongin walked around the circling of tents and introduced him to all of the other Islanders. There were ten in total (excluding the Four as well as Jongin and Kyungsoo), ranging from approximately 15 to 20 years of age. Jongin was one of the younger Islanders, along with another boy called Sehun. “The tent I sleep in is right next to his,” Jongin said, as they stopped in front of the very last one. He scratched the back of his head, looking suddenly bashful. “Um…since there aren’t any extra tents at the moment, you’ll probably have to share with me,” he mumbled, dropping his gaze to the ground. “That is—unless you want to share with one of the others, of course…”

 “No, I’ll share with you,” Taemin broke in, making Jongin look up quickly. Taemin offered him a smile, and after a moment the other boy returned it shyly. For some reason, Taemin couldn’t tear his eyes away. What’s wrong with me?

“Um…Taemin?” Jongin said uncertainly, and Taemin snapped out of it. Finally removing his gaze from the other’s face, he spoke up quickly to break the awkward silence.

“So, where do you get all these tents from?”

“The raft,” Jongin answered after a brief pause, and Taemin breathed an internal sigh of relief. He listened up as the other boy continued speaking, genuinely curious about the answer. “Once a week it brings new supplies, like food and raw materials. The only thing it won’t bring us is a way out of here.” The last part of Jongin’s statement was laced with frustration, and Taemin peered at the other boy, concerned.

“We’ll figure out a way,” he said, trying to sound confident. He was surprised by how easily the word “we” rolled off his tongue—as though he were already used to being a part of the Island. A part of the effort to escape.

Jongin looked up at him, biting his lip in a way that made Taemin a little breathless.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah,” Taemin replied automatically, and then cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he repeated, more emphatically this time. “I do.”

◊◊◊

Evening approached quickly, bringing with it a magnificent view of the sun setting over an endless sea of blue. Taemin stared open-mouthed at the glorious array of colors streaking across the sky, convinced that he had never seen anything more beautiful. Unfortunately, he was nudged out of his stupor by Jongin.

“What are you doing, hyung?” the other boy snickered, apparently amused. Taemin was too caught up in the sunset to be annoyed.

“It’s so…gorgeous,” he replied, gesturing to the sky in awe. He wished he could find a better word.

Jongin rolled his eyes. “You get used to it. Now come on, it’s time for dinner.”

He dragged the slightly unwilling Taemin over to the center of the tents, where the rest of the boys were sitting around and talking. Taemin had just joined them when suddenly someone called out.

“Hey look, here they come!”

He turned his head to see figures walking toward them from the direction of the jungle. It was the Four—Jinki, Jonghyun, Key, and Minho. They looked exhausted, their clothes clinging to their sweat-slick bodies. Taemin half-stood, eager to approach them and ask questions—but Jonghyun barely spared them a little wave before ducking into the largest tent, followed by the other three boys. Taemin sat back down again, disappointed.

“They have to map out what they can remember of the Island, while everything’s still fresh in their minds,” Jongin spoke up from beside him, as though hearing his thoughts. “And besides, I can answer any questions you might have.”

Taemin glanced over, surprised at the slightly defiant note Jongin’s voice had taken on during that last statement. The other boy returned his gaze steadily, as if to challenge him. Taemin was about to roll his eyes and look away when suddenly a little voice in the back of his head piped up.

Well, why not?

Taemin hesitated, then turned to Jongin again. “Okay,” he said flatly, ignoring the slightly surprised look on the other’s face. “What’s so dangerous about the jungle?”

Jongin opened his mouth, then closed it. His cheeks went red and he dropped his gaze to his lap. Taemin continued to stare at him, unflinching, until at last the other boy said quietly, “You don’t want to know.”

“Obviously I do, or else I wouldn’t have asked!” Taemin replied exasperatedly, throwing his hands up in the air. He should’ve known he wouldn’t be getting any answers from the younger. “I’m going to ask Jonghyun.”

“Wait!” Jongin cried, grabbing Taemin’s arm to prevent the other from standing. Jongin looked around, checking to make sure nobody was watching, and then hissed at Taemin, “Follow me.”

He got up and led the way to his tent, going completely unnoticed by the others. Taemin followed, slightly wary but also intrigued in spite of himself. It looked like he would finally be getting some answers.

As soon as they had both ducked inside, Jongin took a deep breath. “The reason no one other than the Four is allowed in the jungle,” he began in a low, edgy voice, “is because they have the most experience. That’s the number one rule—to never go into the jungle without express permission, under any circumstances.” He swallowed. “Unfortunately, my guide when I first got here was Sehun, and he…er…neglected to tell me that.”

Taemin stared at him with wide eyes. “Well, what happened?” he demanded, after Jongin didn’t continue.

The other boy looked up at Taemin sharply. “I went in there my first week after I had arrived, wanting answers—just like you do,” he snapped. He lifted up his shirt, and Taemin involuntarily gasped. Running across Jongin’s otherwise smooth torso were three angry red claw marks, starting from a little below his collarbone and stretching all the way down to his ribcage.

“I didn’t know how very idiotic that was. I’d barely walked twenty feet when a wildcat pounced from out of nowhere, tearing my chest open. I don’t know what I would’ve done if Minho-hyung hadn’t seen me go in and come after me.” Jongin shuddered as he spoke, dropping his shirt back down over the scar. Taemin imagined a wild animal leaping on top of him and suddenly didn’t feel all that hungry anymore. 

“Listen,” Jongin said fiercely, staring Taemin down. “We all want answers just as much as you do. I wanted them so much that I almost got myself killed. But we’ve got to have some restraint. There’s no way things would still work the way they do if we didn't. Got that?”

Taemin nodded numbly. Another beat of tense silence passed, and then Jongin sighed. “Come on,” he said wearily, pulling Taemin out of the tent. “The others will be wondering where we’ve been.”

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. Jonghyun and the others eventually emerged from the tent, eating quickly while sitting slightly detached from the other boys and talking in low, serious voices. Soon night had fallen, and Taemin found himself rolled up in a sleeping bag on the soft sand beneath the tent, Jongin across from him. Before long the other boy had started snoring softly, but for Taemin, sleep still seemed an impossibly long way off.

His first day on the Island felt like it had lasted an eternity. Taemin wondered if every day was going to be like this—trying fruitlessly to reach a tiny strip of land in the distance—and felt an almost overwhelming sense of despair. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing desperately for sleep to come; and, despite all of his troubling thoughts, the sound of Jongin’s soft, steady breaths eventually began to lull him to sleep. Taemin’s last thought—his last ray of hope before he succumbed completely to unconsciousness—was that, when he woke up the next morning, he would find that this ordeal had all been some sort of strange, terrible dream.