Taemin shakily followed Jonghyun to the tent reserved for the Four, feeling his apprehension increase with every step. The brief respite Jongin’s words had granted him dissipated as he wondered what Jonghyun and the others wanted him for. Did they think he had something to do with the empty raft? What if they thought this was all his fault?

Relax, he told himself. It’s going to be okay.

They stopped in front of the tent and Jonghyun lifted the flap, gesturing for Taemin to step inside. He obliged, swallowing as he looked around. Three boys sat around a simple wooden table, which stood in the center of the space. One corner of the tent had been filled with a metal filing cabinet, which looked extremely out of place—exactly how Taemin felt at that very moment. And although his memory may have been virtually nonexistent, he was sure he’d never before identified with a piece of furniture.

 “Sit down,” Jonghyun said, stepping into the tent after him. One of the boys—Jinki, if Taemin remembered correctly—pulled out a chair for him, and Taemin sat, mumbling a thank you. There was a brief silence as Jonghyun made his way over to the other side of the table and took his seat, during which Taemin tried to avoid making eye contact with anybody.

“Do you know everyone here?” Jonghyun inquired, and Taemin looked up quickly. He opened his mouth to reply, but Jonghyun cut him off. “We might as well introduce ourselves,” he said. “I’ll start off—I’m Jonghyun.” He turned expectantly to the boy next to him.

“Kibum,” the boy said, sweeping his hair out of his eyes to fix Taemin with a critical stare. Taemin had the distinct impression of being X-rayed, and smiled weakly.

“I’m Minho,” spoke up the boy seated on Kibum’s other side. His voice was deep and soothing, and his smile was friendly enough. Taemin nodded in acknowledgment.

“And I’m Jinki,” the boy next to Taemin said. He peered at Taemin, though not in the same supercilious way Kibum had. “I like you,” he declared after a moment.

“Oh,” Taemin said, startled. “Well…um…thank you—”

“Not as much as I like chicken,” Jinki cut him off. “But I still like you.”

“That’s enough,” Jonghyun broke in with an eye-roll, as Taemin struggled to come up with an adequate answer. “Now let’s get down to business.

 “The events that took place today have never happened before. We need to figure out why things have suddenly changed—and for the worse. But, in order to do so, we need you to tell us something.”

He broke off, fixing Taemin with a hard, penetrating stare. Taemin gulped, his insides churning with a mixture of fear and anticipation as, once more, Jonghyun opened his mouth to speak.

“Do you remember anything—anything at all—from your past life?”

The tent was filled with silence. Taemin felt blood rush to his face as four pairs of eyes landed on him, all waiting for his answer.

“No,” he finally said, his voice wavering a bit. Clearing his throat, he sat up straighter and looked Jonghyun in the eye. “No,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “Nothing.”

Jonghyun looked at him closely, examining him. “Are you sure?” he said at last.

Taemin opened his mouth, then closed it again as suddenly a distinct image of someone floated in his mind. Jongin. He recalled the day he’d first arrived on the Island and met Jongin, the way the other had seemed…familiar. As though they’d known each other in some past life that didn’t involve severe memory loss and deserted islands.

“Taemin?” Jonghyun piped up, pulling him from his thoughts. “Are you remembering something? I can see the wheels in your head turning.”

Taemin hesitated. “Well,” he began uncertainly, “when…when I first got here, I did feel as though I’d met Jongin before. But he’s the only one I remember. And I don’t even remember how I know him,” he added hastily, as though harboring memories of any kind was an unforgivable sin.

Silence filled the air and Taemin bit his lip, wondering if he’d said too much. He thought he saw Jonghyun and Kibum exchange glances, but maybe he was just being paranoid.

“And that’s all you remember? Nothing else?” Jonghyun queried. Taemin nodded, this time sure that there was absolutely nothing else in his memory. Jonghyun studied him a moment longer, then exhaled.

“I see,” he said, and Taemin thought he heard a tinge of both disappointment and relief in his voice. “Thank you, Taemin. You can go now.”

 Taemin got up, making for the flap of the tent. But then—against his better judgment—he turned and blurted, “What do my memories have to do with the raft?”

The Four stared at him, and he gulped, his heart pounding in his chest. Though nervous, Taemin’s curiosity eventually outweighed his fear, and he stood his ground. After a beat of silence, Jonghyun sighed.

“I suppose we do owe you an explanation,” he relented. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

After Taemin had sat back down again, Jonghyun—ignoring Kibum’s little noise of protest—began to explain. “I know we’re supposed to be the experts around here. But to be honest,” he admitted wearily, “we don’t know anything more about what’s going on than the rest of you. And, as unfair as it may be, the fact that this happened so soon after you arrived puts you in a position of…well, frankly…suspicion.”

Taemin opened his mouth to protest, but Jonghyun held up a hand. “We know it’s not your fault,” he said reassuringly. “And you just proved that you don’t know any more about all this than we do. But we just had to make sure.”

Taemin let out a sigh of relief; so the others didn’t blame him. There was a pause, and then suddenly he realized something.

“Why do you think I can only remember Jongin, and nobody else?” he asked. He looked around, waiting for an explanation—and definitely caught Jonghyun and Kibum exchanging looks this time. But before he could say anything, Jonghyun turned back to him.

“Well, Taemin…the, er, fact that you remember him probably has nothing to do with the raft’s message,” he began, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “I’d say it has to do with…other things.”

“Amorous things,” Kibum added suggestively, when Taemin continued to look perplexed. The other’s eyes glinted meaningfully, and suddenly Taemin wished he hadn’t asked at all.

“I g-gotta go,” he stammered, standing abruptly. “Thanks for… answering my questions.”

He turned and hurried out of the tent, hearing someone giggle behind him as he left. Taemin felt the heat rush to his face and stopped, clutching the space above his heart. He felt as if he’d just run a marathon.

An image of Jongin popped up inside his mind, and he shook his head to clear it, feeling his cheeks grow even warmer. No, he thought. There’s no way I…with Jongin…no. “You’re wrong,” he said aloud.

“Who is?”

Taemin jumped, emitting a very unmanly squeak. He turned to see Jongin bent practically in half, shaking with silent laughter.

“S…Stop it,” he protested, a smile tugging up the corners of his unwilling lips. As Jongin kept laughing, however, he finally gave in, cracking up as well. “It’s n-not funny,” he gasped, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

“Then why’re you laughing?” Jongin challenged him, folding his arms across his chest and lifting his eyebrows. Taemin glared at him, unwilling to admit defeat.

“I was laughing at how dumb you sound when you laugh,” he shot back. A flicker of hurt passed across Jongin’s face, and Taemin felt immediately horrible. “I didn’t mean…I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “Your laugh really is beautiful.”

Jongin’s face immediately brightened, and he slung his arm over Taemin’s shoulder, chuckling. “I know,” he replied cockily, shooting the other a wink. “After all, what part of me isn’t?”

Taemin’s heart skipped a beat and he quickly broke eye contact, dropping his gaze to the ground. As they walked together back to their shared tent, Jongin’s arm still tossed casually over Taemin’s shoulder, the older boy half-listened to Jongin babble while at the same time trying (and failing) to dispel the tingles that ran across his skin wherever the younger touched him.

It was going to be a long night.