Chapter Text
Two years in California, and it’s like Yebin had never left. She didn’t even grow up here, her real home will always be in that dinky little town hidden away in the forests of Maine, but there’s something so familiar about the sweltering heat and the traffic and the lethargic way of life that makes Yebin feel like this is where she belongs.
It hadn’t been easy for her to leave but she doesn’t regret it. California welcomed her back like a childhood friend.
But even though she loves being back, she hates college. She misses her friends and her mom and it’s really hard for her to keep up with classes. For the most part, she doesn’t leave the general downtown Los Angeles area and she doesn’t leave campus unless she needs food or wants to see her grandparents. She doesn’t have that many friends but she’s never been one to have a lot of friends anyways.
The one person that she’s really gotten close with is her roommate, a fiery boy named Seungkwan, who seems to be the exact opposite of her. Seungkwan is friends with basically everyone and their mother. He’s always out and about and it doesn’t seem like he ever studies, but he makes it through his classes without that much difficulty. He asks Yebin to go out with him almost everyday and Yebin always politely declines.
It’s a warm Friday afternoon when Yebin finds herself lying in their bathtub because that’s where the AC works the best, staring at the air vent above her with blank eyes. The door slams open and she blinks herself back into reality.
“Yebin, I just fell in love with a guy in my art history class,” Seungkwan says loudly. Yebin can hear him toss his backpack onto the couch. “Are you in the tub again?”
“Yeah,” Yebin says tiredly and she is soon greeted by the post-workout beam of Boo Seungkwan. “Who’s the unlucky guy?”
“First of all, fuck you, any boy would be thrilled to even know me,” Seungkwan scoffs. He leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. “And his name is Justin Summerville, he’s white and has blond hair and wears board shorts and has dreamy eyes. Do you know him?”
Yebin thinks for a bit but comes up empty. “Uh. I don’t think so?”
“Damn.” Seungkwan sighs dejectedly. “Well, I’m going to H-Mart with some friends. Do you want to come?”
“Nah, I’m good,” Yebin says. “I have to -”
“Study,” Seungkwan finishes for her because they've done this a million times now. “Yeah. You know, I’ve never actually seen you open a text book. All you do is sleep and stare at that picture of Roa Kim for hours.”
“Yeah.” Yebin raises her eyebrows. “Studying.”
“I don’t understand you how can pass your classes like this,” Seungkwan says flatly.
Yebin shrugs. “I test well and fuck my professors.”
Seungkwan seems to think that that’s a pretty good answer and nods. “Okay. I’ll probably be back in a couple hours. Want me to bring something back for you?”
“Actually if they have any of those mango jelly cups that would be great,” Yebin requests. “One of those huge containers?”
“Sure thing, homie. See you later.”
“Yeah, see you.”
The door opens and closes a minute later and Yebin closes her eyes. It’s been just about four years since she found Roa Kim’s missing person poster. She first saw it during her junior year of high school and it’s remained a mystery since then. She’s spent everyday trying to figure out why it means so much to her but nothing has come from it.
When she first found it, she thought everything would happen right away. She’d find Roa Kim, they’d figure out what the hell she’s all about, and it would be case closed, mystery solved. Unfortunately, that’s not what happened.
Yebin gets out of the tub and goes to her room. It’s a little messy and her bed is never fully made, but it’s not a total pigsty. Her mother would be proud to know that she actually puts her dirty clothing in a basket rather than throwing them on the floor. There are pictures of her family taped on her walls and a framed photo of her and her high school friends on her night stand and a myriad of little supplies and trinkets lying on her desk.
The missing person poster hangs on the wall there, yellowed with age and soft on the edges. Next to it is a faded receipt from the Grave Digger, with the name Kim Minkyung scrawled along the bottom in loopy script.
It’s the girl that she hasn’t stopped thinking about for years. The girl she sees in her dreams. Roa Kim.
Ever since Yebin was little, she had to have someone looking after her. Her mother always made sure that she had the medication she needed and that whoever she was with knew exactly what to do if something happened. She spent half of her life living in fear that she might die the next day.
But when she’s asleep, when she’s dreaming of Roa Kim, she doesn’t feel broken. She doesn’t feel incomplete. She feels healthy and she feels happy and she feels perfect until she wakes up and it’s all gone.
Being with Roa Kim in her dreams makes her feel like she can do anything.
She dreams of Roa Kim, of sparkling eyes and pale skin and soft lips, she dreams of a voice so beautiful and musical that it could stop the world from ending.
She dreams of a forest that comes to life, lying on the damp ground, and Roa Kim looking down at her like she’s holding the most precious thing in the world.
She dreams of a past she can’t remember.
“Mine!”
Nayoung dives and barely catches the volleyball with her forearms, sending it back into the air.
She watches as her teammates setup the perfect spike and the ball slams onto the ground on the other side of the net.
Eventually, their coach calls for practice to end and she follows her team to the locker room.
College volleyball is a million times harder than high school volleyball but that had been expected. She’s always tired and sore and she can hardly keep her grades up on top of that. It’s like she never has time for anything other than school and volleyball, but that’s all she really needs time for anyways.
Nayoung pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it into her bag.
The girl next to her rests her head on the cold metal locker and sighs. “You got anyone coming for family weekend?”
“No.” Nayoung’s parents died before she could even remember them and she doesn’t have any relatives in America since her uncle passed away two years ago. When she left Little Grave Lights, there was nothing for her to come back to. There was no reason for her to ever look back. “What about you?”
“My parents and my little sister,” her teammate replies. “They’re flying in tomorrow morning.”
Nayoung finishes changing and engulfs herself in deodorant. “Sounds fun.”
Her teammate snorts. “It won’t be.”
“They’re your family. Try to enjoy it,” Nayoung says. She closes her locker and pulls her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Counting on how crazy Coach is, it’ll probably be Sunday,” the girl behind them chimes in.
Nayoung groans and slips on her sandals. “He better buy us lunch next week or I’m quitting.”
“We should go on strike,” the girl next to her says. “We won’t play until he agrees to give us some god damn rest.”
Nayoung laughs and gives her a high five. “I’m heading out. Good luck with your family. Bye, Gianna.”
“See you, Nayoung!”
As soon as Nayoung steps out of the gym, there are flip flops slapping on the sidewalk next to her.
“Hey, do you think you could get me an in to the girls locker room sometime? I mean you get to look at all these hot, sweaty girls all day long and you don’t even have time to think about it. I would really enjoy it, and a real friend would know that.”
Nayoung takes a deep breath. “No, Kyulkyung.”
“Oh, come on,” Kyulkyung continues. “There’s no need to get jealous. You know that you’re the only hot, sweaty girl that I want to look at all day long.”
“I’m not jealous, Kyulkyung,” Nayoung says.
“Come on, Nayoung, when are you going to let me take you out?”
“Never, Kyulkyung.”
This has been happening for over two months now. Kyulkyung waits for Nayoung outside the gym and walks her back to her dorm and tries to swindle her way into a date everyday. At first, Nayoung really just didn’t have time for it. She was having trouble balancing volleyball and school and she couldn’t be bothered to fit a love life into her schedule. Things slowed down after a while and she started having more free time but at that point she was so used to saying no that it just became routine.
And she likes it. It’s nice to have a constant in her life that she can really rely on, and Kyulkyung isn’t an asshole. If Nayoung really didn’t like her, she would have given up already. They’ve kind of actually become good friends. Kyulkyung is the first person that Nayoung has really enjoyed spending time with in years and she’s nice and funny and she makes her feel good about herself.
“You should come to my recital,” Kyulkyung says suddenly. Nayoung barely turns to look at her and raises her eyebrows. “It’s a summer showcase and it’s really hard to get on the set list and, I don’t know, I’m really proud of myself and you said you’ve never heard someone play the pipa before so I thought maybe you’d want to come.”
Nayoung tries to keep from smiling as she watches Kyulkyung nervously kick at the snow. “When is it?”
Kyulkyung’s eyes light up and she looks up at Nayoung with a huge stupid grin on her face. “Did you just agree to go out with me?”
“That depends on when it is,” Nayoung says slowly.
“It’s on the fifteenth,” Kyulkyung tells her. “Of June.”
“Alright,” Nayoung says, coming to a stop at the door of her building. “I’ll think about it.”
Kyulkyung looks like she’s about to explode. “Okay! Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow!”
Nayoung stands at the door for a bit to watch Kyulkyung nearly trip on the sidewalk and dash down to the quad. She feels a gust of wind and brings her hand up to tug on the brightly colored sleeve of her windbreaker.
She’s quickly losing a time she promised she would never forget.
The letters are stacking up. Yewon refuses to touch any that have Little Grave Lights in the return address. It’s petty and dumb and she knows she shouldn’t but every time she thinks about Little Grave Lights, she feels something ugly boil in her gut and she hates feeling that.
Little Grave Lights has a forest, a diner, a library, and all the things that she loves. Little Grave Lights also has a high rate of children going missing, freezing cold winters, community members who turn a blind eye to everything that goes wrong, and all the things that she wishes she could forget.
Little Grave Lights has her parents. Little Grave Lights has what she hates.
Her parents treated her like garbage. They told her that she would never amount to anything and that she’s worthless, and they convinced her that she needed them because no one else will love her. She was terrified of them but she was completely dependent on them too. Her friends told her so many times that she needed to get out of there but she refused. She believed them, she thought that they were the only ones who would ever be able to take care of her.
She knows now that that's not true.
She'll admit that she was scared when she first moved to Texas. The American South in general sort of made her wary so she was surprised to find that she really likes Austin. It's lively and fun and the people she’s dealt with so far have been amicable at the least.
She’s lucky that her boyfriend is also from a small town and they got used to Austin together. Chan grew up in some town she can’t remember the name of in Washington. They met during their first year when he accidentally slammed her in the face with a door as he was leaving the class that she had next. They became friends quickly and suddenly she had someone. Someone to talk to, someone to hold, someone trust, someone to love. The last time she felt like this about someone was when she lived in Little Grave Lights.
So when she grabs her mail, she goes through, pulls out the envelope from Little Grave Lights, and throws it into her Little Grave Lights Letters Basket.
And then she notices the return address. It's not from her parents.
The name Kyungwon Kang isn’t one that she’s thought about in years.
Feeling like she’s walking through mud, Yewon finds the letter opener and rips the envelope open. The handwriting is smooth and loopy, and easy to read.
There’s no hook, no opener. There’s no ‘I hope this finds you in good health’ or ‘I hope you’ve been doing well.’ The first line is enough to keep her interested.
I need your help.
It’s a little scary. She recognizes the handwriting from the times she read it off of notes passed in the middle of class. It’s not handwriting that she’s seen in years.
And then she remembers Roa Kim. She remembers the nights she stayed up late with Yebin, going over newspaper clippings and searching through the library archives, and she remembers the signature on a Grave Digger receipt that Yebin still has in a box somewhere.
Little Grave Lights has Roa Kim. Little Grave Lights won’t let her go.
She’s running from a past that she can’t escape.
Nayoung feels stupid standing at the stage door holding a small bouquet of flowers until she sees Kyulkyung walking out with the brightest smile she has ever seen.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you brought me flowers!” Kyulkyung says giddily. She accepts them with shaky hands. “They’re so beautiful. Thank you, Nayoung.”
“You were wonderful,” Nayoung says and Kyulkyung blushes. “I’m really proud of you.”
“Shut up,” Kyulkyung mumbles, but she’s still smiling.
“So,” Nayoung says, leaning back on her heels. “When are you gonna let me take you out?”
It either takes a long time for Kyulkyung’s smile to widen or time legitimately slows down, and Nayoung thinks that she would do anything it takes to keep that smile on her face.
“Whenever you’re ready, Nayoung,” Kyulkyung replies.
They end up going to the Carl’s Jr. on campus. Nayoung knows it’s not much but Kyulkyung doesn’t seem to mind. They could have gone to a gas station and Kyulkyung wouldn’t mind.
They talk about everything and nothing while eating the seven orders of large french fries they had decided to get. Kyulkyung tells Nayoung all about rehearsals and the audition process and the gossip about the other performers. Nayoung tells Kyulkyung about her crazy volleyball coach and that time they had a practice at four in the morning.
Nayoung is happy. She’s really happy and it’s sort of weird being this carefree. She doesn’t think she’s felt this light since high school.
“I watched a documentary about China in class the other day,” Kyulkyung is saying. She stirs her milkshake with her straw. “I grew up there but, like, wow, there is a lot I did not know. Did you know that there’s this fishing method where they use birds? They tie strings around their necks so they can’t swallow the fish that they catch.”
“That’s wild,” Nayoung replies. “That’s ancient or they still use that method?”
“Only in, like, small villages in the south,” Kyulkyung says. “I’m actually going back to Taizhou in a couple days for summer.”
Nayoung slowly finishes the french fry she has in her mouth. “That sounds fun. How long is the flight?”
“Seventeen hours from Pittsburgh to Shanghai,” Kyulkyung says. She sighs and slides down in her seat. “Jet lag is going to be a bitch to get over. You got any summer plans?”
“Uh, not really,” Nayoung admits. “I got a call from a friend in Maine so I might go up there to visit, maybe make a road trip out of it.”
Kyulkyung suddenly sits up straight. “You have a friend in Maine?”
“Yeah.” Nayoung frowns. “I never told you I moved here from Maine?”
“I thought you were from New York,” Kyulkyung says. She raises her eyebrows. “So you’ve been lying to me for two years.”
Nayoung rolls her eyes. “I lived in New York for most of my life and moved to Maine for the last two years of high school. It was a crazy small town in the middle of the forest, totally Stephen King esque.”
“Ooh, very cool,” Kyulkyung says. “Take some pictures so you can show me what it’s like to be a mountain person.”
Nayoung’s phone starts ringing before she can respond and she gives Kyulkyung an apology before stepping out of the booth.
“Hello?” she asks, flipping the phone open.
“Nayoung? This is Kyungwon’s mother,” a soft voice carries through the line. “Do you know where she is?”
Little Grave Lights is different.
Yewon’s taxi drops her and Chan off at Lightbreak Bridge like she asked. It’s definitely not as hot as Texas, which is great, since now she can wear a light jacket without drenching it with sweat. When she told Chan that she had to go back to Maine, he insisted on going with her and, if she’s being honest, she’s glad he’s here.
There used to be a gas station at the edge of town. Now, there’s a collection of restaurants and a tall office building. They walk past a new apartment complex and a doctor’s office. The library is still there, with its park and gazebo. Brewport is across the street, now with outdoor seating and heaters. They follow Main Street past the CD store and the pharmacy and the Grave Digger and end up in front of Lightbreak Inn. Little Grave Lights is different but it’s the same. Yewon thinks that in some ways, it will always be the same.
“This town,” Chan says, “is so cute.”
Yewon shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. It definitely isn’t Austin, that’s for sure.”
They go into the lobby and Chan takes a moment to take in the room.
“This is interesting,” he says.
“It’s straight up creepy, I know,” Yewon says. “But it’s the only hotel in town and it’s actually not that bad.”
They check in and after Yewon has an awkward conversation with the concierge about how she’s been since she moved to Texas, they go to their room.
Chan puts his suitcase down and then sits on the bed. “So, what’s the plan? Are we going to meet up with your friends or something?”
“Not yet,” Yewon says, sitting down next to him. “I just want to have you to myself for a little bit.”
“You’ve had me to yourself for the past year and a half,” Chan points out, but he doesn’t push her away when she wraps her arms around his shoulders. “I’m kind of interested in learning about what your life was like before Texas. I know virtually nothing.”
“There’s nothing you need to know,” Yewon replies. “None of it is important.”
“Babe, I get that it wasn’t good. My childhood wasn’t the best either,” Chan says. “But you have to talk about it and right now seems like a really good time to talk about it.”
Yewon sighs and detaches herself from him. “Fine. But don’t make this one of your psychoanalyzing things, I hate it when you do that.”
“I won’t, I promise,” Chan assures her. “I’m just here to be your boyfriend.”
“My parents didn’t like me very much,” Yewon starts. “I think because my dad always wanted a son. I only had three friends and, in sophomore year of high school, someone started a rumor that I was sleeping with one of the teachers and that was the reason that he quit and left Maine. My friend Yebin was allergic to tons of things and had lots of illnesses growing up and she moved to California as soon as we graduated high school. Nayoung was only here for like two years before she went down to Pennsylvania on a volleyball scholarship. Kyungwon was the only one of us who stayed here but she went missing a week ago.”
Chan stares at her silently for a while. “Okay. Alright, so the parents thing? I totally get that. I’ve got a tough relationship with my parents as well. I don’t really know what to say about anything else that you just told me. You said that your life in Maine was boring.”
“It was boring, it’s still boring. My life in Texas is boring,” Yewon says. “Chan, you make us have pasta every Tuesday and you call it pasta night.”
“That’s not boring, that’s super cute,” Chan says. “We love pasta night.”
Yewon grins and presses a quick kiss against his lips. “Yeah. We do.”
“Uh, Yebin? I got someone on the phone for you,” Seungkwan calls from the front room. Yebin doesn’t respond so he pokes his head into her room. “It’s one of your girls from Maine, it sounds pretty urgent.”
Yebin blinks owlishly at him. “I don’t have any girls in Maine.”
“Well, I’ve got a girl from Maine on the phone who says she needs to talk to you, so I don’t really know what you expect me to do,” Seungkwan tells her. “Look, just get out here, okay? I can never say no to a nice girl.”
Yebin sighs and follows Seungkwan into the front room. She takes the phone from the counter and holds it up to her ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, Yebin,” Nayoung says and Yebin nearly drops the phone. “You need to come back to Maine. Right now.”
“Excuse me?” Yebin asks, almost angrily. “I don’t recall you having any right to tell me what to do.”
Nayoung takes a moment to respond. “I don’t want to have to tell you this over the phone, I think it’s best if you come back to Maine.”
“I can’t just come back to Maine,” Yebin states. “What are you doing back there anyways? I thought you moved to Pennsylvania.”
“Yeah, I did, I’m just - I had to come back because something happened,” Nayoung tries to explain. “I really think that this is something we need to talk about in person.”
Yebin drums her fingers on the counter. “Okay, fuck you if you think that I’m going to drop everything and go back to Maine just because you’re too much of a pussy to say whatever it is you want to say over the phone. I actually have a life here, and it’s been going real great, so whatever this is, it can wait.”
“Kyungwon is missing, Yebin.”
Kyungwon Kang, the tall, stupid, beautiful girl who had welcomed Yebin to Little Grave Lights without hesitation.
The girl who dared her to drink from a puddle when they were eleven years old, the girl who broke her arm by falling out of a tree when they were thirteen years old, the girl who never let anyone make fun of Yebin without getting a punch in the face, the girl who made it onto the varsity volleyball team in sophomore year.
“Yebin, please,” Nayoung says and her voice is shaking. “I need you to come back. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“Okay,” Yebin says. “I’m coming.”