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Chapter Text

It took nearly-not-saving the world and fulfilling her life’s purpose for Rumi to realize she didn’t totally understand the word “relax." Mira and Zoey had given her a good start with the bathhouse, but she knew she was still in for a rough ride. 

All her life, there had been a mission. Since her childhood, it was training, which meant everything from wielding magic weapons to vocal exercises to martial arts to group choreo. When the time came for her to be a hunter, the mission changed from training to doing. 

And everything had to be hidden, had to be perfect. Must be perfect. Those weren’t just the expectations of her foster mother; they were the thin line between maintaining a centuries-old peace and plunging the world into doom. 

So yeah, she’d had a lifetime of practice in everything but relaxation. That meant that when she and her bandmates bowed to the cameras to announce a three-month hiatus, she felt a tad overwhelmed. 

Fortunately, their “hiatus” wasn’t totally time off. Despite Bobby’s offers of a tropical vacation or wellness retreat, the trio had agreed that a break from performing would be best spent giving back to their fans in other ways, both out of genuine gratitude as well as fierce protectiveness to maintain the new honmoon. 

What exactly that would look like hadn’t come into focus until a few hours after their hiatus was broadcast. The girls were having dinner in the penthouse when Mira made an abrupt announcement.

“I’m thinking of visiting my family,” she blurted. Rumi and Zoey froze, spoons halfway to their mouths as their eyes darted to their friend. The “black sheep” nickname wasn’t just a persona for Mira; it was the genuine reality of her upbringing. Rumi and Zoey knew the basics of the rocky relationship, which was all they needed to know to be shocked by the sudden news.

After another moment of awkward silence, Mira continued, her eyes glued to the middle of the table. “Beating Gwi-Ma…after losing to Gwi-Ma…made me realize that I’m not as strong as I thought I was.” Rumi and Zoey glanced at each other before Mira locked eyes with them. 

“No one’s perfect, or meant to be perfect,” she went on. “As a matter of fact, we’re all really messed up in our own ways. That’s how Gwi-Ma controlled us…but it’s also how we beat him.”

Mira reached her hands to both sides of the table, interlacing them with Rumi and Zoey’s. 

“Maybe it’s bad that it took the demon apocalypse for me to realize this, but…I think I want to try and spend some time with my parents. There are things I think I can forgive them for…and then there are other things we need to talk about.”

Rumi gave her a proud smile. “That’s amazing, Mira,” she said, gripping her friend’s hand. “I love that so much for you.”

Mira smiled. Her expression faltered when she felt something dripping on her other hand. She looked over to see Zoey, clamping both her hands around Mira’s, and holding it close to her face, where tears fell freely onto the redhead’s fingers.

“I’mb…so proud ub you…Mira…” Zoey sobbed. “Dat was…really beautibul-ul-ul!”

Mira smirked and pulled Zoey in for a hug. Rumi chuckled at a sight she’d only ever seen after the finale of a drama they’d binge together, with Zoey burying her face in Mira’s chest as the older girl stroked her back and scratched the top of her head with her chin.

Eventually, when Zoey calmed down, she straightened up and gave her cheeks some light, synchronous slaps.

“Woo! Okay! I’m gonna visit my family, too!” she declared. “I haven’t been home in a while, and I miss my mom’s cooking and my dad’s yapping!”

Rumi let herself laugh before going into leader mode. “You know,” she said, “We promised a pseudo hiatus today. We still need to figure out what we’re going to do for the fans that isn’t music.”

The trio sat in silence. Zoey spoke up first.

“Well, I’m gonna be in the LA area,” she offered. “There’s gotta be some publicity or something I can do. Ooh! Maybe I can do some type of outreach work! Like, for young artists!”

“That’s a good idea,” Mira replied. “You know, Bobby’s been saying for a while that film producers are interested in us. There was never time with demon hunting, but maybe I could finally take one of those acting roles he’s been sending us.”

“Oh. My. Gosh!” Zoey exclaimed. “You mean like in a movie? Or even a DRAMA?! Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh! Imagine the HUNKS you could star opposite from!”

Rumi and Mira stared as a bit of drool escaped the corner of Zoey's mouth. They’d thought that the whole murdering her crush thing would have tempered her boy-craziness. Zoey coughed and wiped her mouth. “What?” the youngest squeaked. “These are valid questions to keep in mind when deciding your next career move!”

Mira snorted. “That sounds nice, Zoey, but I was leaning more towards the wise-cracking, statuesque ass-kicker in the all-female heist movie.”

“Oh, I love it!” Zoey exclaimed, to which Rumi nodded in frantic agreement. “You should totally go for it!”

Mira took a second to think before a sly smile spread across her face. “Okay,” she said. “I think I’ll give Bobby a call.”

Zoey squealed in elation. “OMG! Mira the movie star! It’s like a whole new era for you!”

Mira and Rumi watched in amusement as Zoey reached for her notebook to sketch red-carpet outfits for Mira, who turned to their leader.

“What about you, Rumi?” she asked gently. “Have you thought about what you’ll do?”

Rumi opened her mouth to say something but paused. Her expression dropped, and the sound of Zoey's scribbling faded as a concerned silence fell over the room. 

“Rumi?” Zoey asked, setting her notebook down. The older girl tried a smile and sighed.

“To be honest,” she started. “I have no idea.” It was Mira and Zoey’s turn to exchange a look. They each scooched their chairs closer to Rumi, placing hands on her shoulders.

“I guess…being a hunter was my life.” She traced her thumb over the patterns on her other hand. “Everything I did was to keep a secret; from the world, or from you guys. I don’t have family to visit, and I could never really explore anything outside of work. This is the first time we’ve ever really had time off, so…I don’t know what to do”

“Rumi…” Zoey cooed. “You know, maybe it’s best if you really take a break. No pseudo hiatus, just hiatus hiatus.” 

Mira nodded. “Yeah, Rumi. We’ve all been through the wringer with work and demon hunting, but it was different for you…”

Rumi shook her head.

“Don’t feel bad,” she assured them. “It wasn’t your fault. I just…need time to figure things out. I want to relax, I really do, but maybe it’s best to stay busy. After all, if you two are going to be traveling, someone needs to stay here to keep an eye on the honmoon.”

Mira shook her head. “Rumi, come on, that’s not fair,” she pleaded. “We can’t let you do that on your own.”

“Yeah, Rumi!” Zoey said, clinging to her friend’s arm. “The honmoon’s stable now! You can take a break!”

“But-” 

“Rumi,” Mira said, gripping her shoulder. “You should sleep on it. We should sleep on it.” She looked at Zoey, who nodded.

“We can talk to Bobby tomorrow,” Zoey added. “But maybe for tonight we should just get some rest.”

Rumi looked to her best friends, who looked at her with concern and adoration. She sighed and wrapped her arms around them.

“Alright,” she said. “You’re right. Sleep first, relaxation later.”

.....

Rumi closed the screen door behind her as she slipped out onto the balcony, shivering as the cool air ran over her skin. It was strange to have to get used to the feeling. 

It had been two weeks since they’d defeated Gwi-Ma, and every night she’d come out here to relax and reflect. 

And inevitably, she’d let herself cry. 

She’d had two weeks of freedom. Freedom from demons, from secrets, from the constant tension that was her life. Finally, there was time to heal from it all.

But that just made the new wounds hurt even more. 

Every night for two weeks, she’d come out onto the balcony and wait for his messengers. She’d slip out of the screen door and immediately scan the length of the railing for a bird with six eyes. She’d pace in front of her garden with bated breath, looking for a pair of glowing eyes between her pots. They were never there. 

Despite everything Celine had told her would happen when the honmoon was sealed, her patterns were still there. Birthmarks, as she’d taken to calling them for the press. Something she’d covered up but no longer felt ashamed of. Their continued presence was what made her realize that there was very little she actually knew about the demon realm and its connection with the human world. If Celine had been wrong about her patterns, then maybe everything was uncharted territory. Maybe there was a way for him to come back. Maybe she could still save him.

But there was nothing. For two weeks, nothing. No demons, no tiger or bird, and no validity to what Celine had claimed about her patterns. So, she was stuck with his memory and his soul, wherever that was inside of her, if it was there at all.

Maybe that’s why she needed to stay. To take three months to figure this mess out before she could accept that there was nothing she could do. 

There had always been something she could do. 

Clay hit the floor behind her.

She whipped around, blade glowing and extended at whatever had snuck up on her. There was nothing there. She lowered her weapon, feeling her heartbeat in her ears before peering down.

A pot of flowers lay on the floor, soil avalanching out as the stems rocked against inertia. Next to it, a blue ring of energy shimmered, with half of a giant, fluffy blue tiger head popping out of it. Its melon-sized eyes peered up at her, then over to the pot, then back at her.

Rumi’s breath left her lungs as she dropped her sword and fell to her knees. The tiger climbed out of the portal so the entirety of its hulking, furry form stood next to her. It let out a low growl before nuzzling up next to her. Rumi wrapped her arms around it and let her tears melt into its silky fur.

“I missed you,” she whispered in disbelief. She sat on the cold floor, burying herself in the cold fur of the tiger before her eyes popped open in epiphany. She shot up to her feet, just in time to see the six-eyed crow land on top of the tiger’s head. She gave it a pet with the knuckle of her index finger.

“I missed you too,” she smiled. “But if you two are here, then what-”

Her thought was interrupted as the tiger loosened its jaw, unfurling its sleeping bag-like tongue to reveal a sticky envelope. 

Her name, etched in inky black brush strokes, sent a chill up her spine. 

Rumi.

Chapter Text

She’d called a meeting in the living room the next morning, pacing back and forth with the envelope and a bad night’s sleep. Mira sat on the couch, watching Bird peck at a bowl of impromptu bird feed made of crushed-up rice grains and bean powder. Tiger laid on the other end of the floor, with Zoey lying on its back, clutching its fur. 

“Sooooo fluffy,” Zoey sighed. Mira rolled her eyes. 

“Zoey,” she muttered. Zoey looked up to see Mira jerking her head at their leader, whose nervousness seemed to be growing more and more erratic with each step across the room. She’d refused breakfast.

Zoey cleared her throat and peeled herself off of Tiger’s back, standing up to turn her attention to Rumi.

“Rumi?” Zoey called. Rumi looked up at her friend, slowing her pace before coming to a stop. She took a deep breath.

“Okay,” she said. “I wanted you both to be here for this.” She flipped open the envelope and reached in, revealing a small USB drive.

Mira squinted. “What is that?”

Rumi took another, quicker breath. “It’s from Jinu,” she said. Mira and Zoey’s eyes widened as Rumi knelt down by the coffee table, where her laptop was waiting to be opened. “Like I told you guys, he used to send Tiger and Bird over to deliver letters to me so we could meet.”

Zoey, out of respect for the moment, held back the “Sooo romantic!” she was dying to swoon.

“The last time Jinu and I…rendezvoused,” Rumi continued, “We wrote a song together. Sang a song together.”

Mira and Zoey looked at each other, eyebrows raised. Rumi blushed, much to the delight of her friends. This was usually where they would relentlessly tease her, but instead allowed her to continue.

“Tiger gave me this envelope last night, and…it has the song. He recorded a demo of it.” She felt hot, tense emotion flood her face, prompting Mira and Zoey to rush over and kneel by her at the coffee table. She felt two hands of differing sizes rubbing her back.

“We said no more secrets,” Rumi managed. “So, I wanted you to hear this. It’s important to me. And I think it was important to him, too.” 

She looked at Mira, who gave her a reassuring nod. She turned to Zoey, who was, at this point, having a hard time containing her excitement. Rumi sniffled and chuckled at her friend before taking another deep breath.

She pressed play, not realizing that her laptop was connected to the surround sound in the living room.

The penthouse filled with the flood of instrumentals, then Jinu’s voice, singing her verse. The song progressed past the chorus, where Jinu sang his verse, then harmonized with himself for the next chorus. At that point, she’d been listening to the song all night. Every time she’d played it, she felt something different. But remembering their moment, wrapped in her best friends’ arms and surrounded by his voice, she could feel herself coming undone. 

When the second chorus concluded, Rumi hit pause. The room was rendered empty except for the soft sound of crying. She looked at Zoey first, who was a red, sniffling mess. She turned to Mira, who, despite her trademark stoicism, was having a hard time containing her emotions. The trio sat in silence, warming each other, before Mira spoke up.

“The first verse was your part?” Mira croaked.

Rumi nodded. “Yeah,” she breathed. 

Zoey blew her nose into a tissue. “He must have wanted you to finish it!” she exclaimed through sobs. “He wanted you to finish it!” was all she could manage before collapsing into more tears.

Rumi stroked Zoey’s hair, falling into silence. Mira laid a hand on her knee. 

“Do you want to finish it?” Mira asked. Rumi closed the laptop with her free hand.

“I…I don’t know,” Rumi said. “I don’t think I’m supposed to.” Her voice rose with confidence. “This has to be some sort of message.”

Mira’s expression hardened. “Rumi,” she said, relatively gently. “That’s not possible. Jinu’s…”

Rumi met her gaze, eyes puffy from a night and morning of crying. But Mira wouldn’t, couldn't, relent.

“Jinu’s gone, Rumi,” she finished. “Maybe this was his just in case .”

“He was too selfish to die,” Rumi muttered in protest. Mira stood, returning to the couch, where Tiger trotted up next to her. She resisted the urge to pet him.

“Rumi,” Mira said. “Whatever this means, this might be a good opportunity for you to…move on, or something.” Zoey perked up at this. 

“Yeah, Rumi,” she sniffled. “If he sent you the demo, he must have wanted you to record your part. And now that he’s…gone, maybe this could help you get closure.”

Rumi sighed. Part of her wanted to stand up and say something stupid like “I don’t want closure; I want him back!” but she relented out of embarrassment.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” she insisted instead, standing up. “How could he have sent me this if he was dead?”

“I don’t know,” Mira replied. “But didn’t you, like, absorb his soul or whatever? Pretty hard to be alive without a soul.”

“Okay,” Rumi pondered, beginning to pace again. “Good point. But what if this is some type of secret message? We don’t really know how the demon realm works, so maybe he just got sent back there? Or somewhere else? Gwi-Ma didn’t devour his soul, so what if there was some way for him to come back?”

“If that was the case, wouldn’t he have just…written it down or something?” Zoey asked. “And when would he have time to do that when he only turned on Gwi-Ma at the last second? And does it have to be Gwi-Ma doing something with a soul for it to be gone or whatever?

“Fair, fair,” Rumi agreed. “But listen-”

“Rumi ,” Mira said firmly. “Listen to yourself . Honestly, I never thought you of all people would be going crazy over some boy-”

“He wasn’t just some boy !” Rumi shouted, causing her friends and pets to jump as her patterns burst with purple light. “He was the only person who understood!” She hugged her arms, fingers pressing against her birthmarks. “He deserved a second chance, and he was so, so close! I could’ve saved him! He should be here! And even if he’s not, why do I have to think about him ?!”

Everyone was standing. Mira held her hands in front of her, silently and apologetically pleading for Rumi to de-escalate. Zoey held a similar stance, leaning away from Rumi’s voice. Bird hid behind Tiger’s crown of fur, with the big cat crouching against the coffee table. Rumi’s breath left her at the sight. She let her arms drop to her sides as her patterns dimmed.

“I know how crazy it sounds,” she said. “But we know so little, and I’ve never felt this way before.” She let out a shaky sob. “I’ve got three months, so please.” She let her shoulders relax. “Please let me try.”

She hung her head, gazing at her feet through tears and significant sleep deprivation. The next thing she knew, she felt two pairs of arms wrapping around her and a bundle of fur nuzzling up against her leg.

“I’m sorry, Rumi,” she heard Mira say. “I hear you, and I just want you to be okay.” Rumi let what felt like the last of her body water escape her eyes as she reached up to cling to her friends.

“I’m sorry, Mira,” she croaked. “I’m sorry, Zoey. It’s just…I don’t-”

“Shhh,” Zoey whispered in her ear, harmonizing with a low growl from Tiger. “It’s okay. You never need to apologize for being in love.”

Rumi pressed her cheek into Zoey’s hair. “I’m not in love with him.”

Mira scoffed but didn’t break the huddle. “You’re about to spend your first real break trying to bring this boy back from the dead, and you’re not in love?”

A silence fell over the room. Mira and Zoey felt Rumi’s hands slip off their backs.

“Maybe…” she muttered.

“Come to think of it,” Zoey said. “Doesn’t this count as your first love?”

Rumi blinked. The huddle parted as Mira and Zoey looked at her expectantly. Rumi shoved her hands in her pockets and shuffled towards the kitchen.

“I’m not doing this on an empty stomach,” she sniffled. Mira and Zoey smiled, grateful that she was doing this at all.

.....

Bobby gave Zoey one last hug before letting her go at the terminal entrance. 

“Remember,” he said. “Mask up-”

“Hat down,” Zoey said, tugging her Dodgers cap over her eyes. “Yeah, mom , I know the routine.”

“And make sure you let me know about anything you need while you’re over there,” Bobby said. “They don’t call me Bobby Time Zones for nothing, you know.”

“I will. Thank you, Bobby,” Zoey said, pulling him into what was for sure their last hug before turning to Rumi. 

“Have a safe flight,” Rumi said, giving her friend a squeeze. 

“Keep us updated on the situation ,” Zoey replied, whispering the last part. She stepped back, giving her friends a wave before turning to leave, but paused to return and face Rumi.

“Rumi,” she said with unfamiliar weight. “Maybe he did get his second chance. And maybe he decided you were it. However you feel about that, it was his responsibility. Not yours.”

Rumi stood stunned next to Bobby, who ping-ponged his gaze between the two. Zoey broke the tension by wrapping her in one final hug. Rumi squeezed her friend tight before they parted, watching as Zoey tugged her face mask over her nose and disappeared behind the sliding doors of the terminal entrance. 

“Wow,” Bobby said. “What was that all about? Who’s she talking about? Are you dating someone I don’t know about? Who? What’s that about a second chance? He got a first chance? You know, if he blew it with you then he must be a real piece of-!”

“Bobby!” she exclaimed, mindful of the gathering stares around them. “Let’s get back to the car.” She pushed his shoulders gently as the two turned back to the black SUV waiting outside. 

“Okay, okay,” Bobby said. “But you know you can tell me anything, right, Rumi?”

“I know, Bobby,” she insisted. “It was nothing, just the plot of a drama I was really invested in.”

“Oh. Well, if you say so.”

She sighed, wondering if this was record time for getting her beloved manager off her back over a small misunderstanding. They slid into the car, with Bobby typing in the address for Rumi’s destination. Rumi watched in the side view mirror as the airport was lost to the freeway, and the freeway to the city, and the city to the grass and the trees.

Somewhere along the way, she pulled out her phone. “Bobby, let me play you a demo,” she said.

Chapter Text

For a centuries-old complex in the countryside, the Hunters’ ancestral home was relatively modest. 

At this point, it was more of a museum than a house. Rooms were filled with weapons, clothing, scrolls, books, and other miscellaneous items from previous hunters. Every inch of the place told a story.

Each hall housed her foremothers. The training grounds in the clearing were where they’d forged themselves into the guardian angels of their people. Every wall and floor had heard every story and song passed down through the generations. It vibrated and exuded an energy, an aura , of history and heritage.

At least, that’s what it might have felt like for an outsider. To Rumi, it was home. 

Her childhood bedroom was untouched. She hadn’t had a chance to step inside since before the world tour. Her bed was made just as she’d left it. The tea table where she’d done years of homework was folded neatly against the bookshelf at the far side of the wall, covering the bottom half of her collection of CDs and novels. 

She walked over to her wardrobe, cringing at the various stickers tacked onto the sides. The door sat open to display various stage outfits from over the years. She moved the layers of leather and sparkles to the side to run her hands over a faux school uniform she’d worn for a variety show. Laying under it on the hanger were the white turtleneck and black leggings she wore with it.

She smiled sadly. It was a shame she’d never gotten to wear the real thing, but for the best. At least, it was at the time. 

Rumi made her way out of the room, wandering the long, creaking hall of the house to the courtyard. She passed by the posters, then photos, then paintings of her predecessors as she approached the opening to the porch.

Celine sat on a cushion over the dark, polished wood, facing the fields and the tree in the distance. A tea table sat to her left, holding a plate of white melon and two cups of coffee. Rumi’s cushion sat at the other end. She tiptoed over before sinking to the ground, running her fingers over the seam of the pillow the way she liked.

They sat in silence. Rumi picked at her nails, watching the wind blow a gentle ripple into her coffee. Celine, always poised, always beautiful, sighed before looking over at her.

“You’ve worked hard,” she said. “I’m grateful.”

Rumi blinked and then nodded respectfully. 

“Thank you,” she said softly. Celine adjusted herself to face Rumi, taking a sip of her coffee. Rumi followed. No cream, one sugar. Just how she liked it.

“So,” Celine said, placing her cup down. “You and Jinu.”

Rumi choked. She coughed to the side before recomposing herself. Celine seemed slightly fazed when she looked back. This was, officially, the first time they’d ever talked about boys.

“No, no, no,” Rumi insisted through one final cough. “Just…just Jinu, is all I wanted to ask about.”

Celine nodded awkwardly and cleared her throat. It was rare for her to be thrown off her game. “Alright,” she affirmed. “Just Jinu, then.” She folded her hands on the table in front of her. 

“The information you gave me lines up with my assumptions,” Celine said. “He did seem familiar when the Saja Boys debuted…”

Rumi leaned forward. “Familiar? What do you mean?”

“Your Hunters aren’t the first to tangle with Jinu,” Celine said. “We have records from past Hunters mentioning a young man using his voice as a weapon.”

Rumi’s eyes widened and her posture straightened as Celine reached to her side to produce a folder, passing it across the table. Rumi placed it in her lap to flip open, revealing various documents about the Saja Boys, history, folklore, and past records of the Hunters.

“Since when do we have a printer?” Rumi muttered as Celine continued.

“If what you told me about his age is correct, then Jinu was probably born somewhere in the aftermath of the Imjin War,” Celine said. “After Korea repelled the Japanese invasion, the country was destitute. If Jinu only mentioned a mother and sister, it’s likely his father was killed in the invasion, or died in the subsequent famine.”

Rumi felt her hands go cold as she scraped her nails against the edge of the folder. “What does that have to do with the demon realm?” she asked.

“Historically, Gwi-Ma is stronger during times when Korea, as a people, suffers,” Celine explained. “Souls are more easily corruptible. In the poverty and famine that follows war, there have been many people like Jinu that Gwi-Ma can claim as minions.” Rumi looked over the accounts of past Hunters as Celine continued.

“Our records corroborate that,” she said. “Gwi-Ma’s army grew significantly during periods when Korea was suffering en masse. The Hunters were stretched thin during these times as Gwi-Ma added to his forces.”

Rumi took a dry swallow, curling her fingers in frustration. “Then why Jinu? Why couldn’t Gwi-Ma have tortured someone else?”

Celine laced her fingers through the handle of her coffee cup. “It’s just a theory, but Jinu would be uniquely qualified to battle the Hunters. Gwi-Ma gave him the gift of song and placed him as a court musician in a royal palace. While he was alive, he was in a highly advantageous position to counter us directly through song. ”

“ And he was a super handsome man , so Gwi-Ma knew he would have more sway in a heavily patriarchal society against an all-female group like the Hunters!” Rumi offered. Celine blinked. 

“That’s…a good observation,” Celine said. “You thought he was super handsome?”

Rumi flushed and swiped the open folder over her face. “No! I mean…yes! But…” She slumped in her seat. “Just keep going, please?”

Celine smirked and set her cup down. “Well, that actually leads into my next point. After descending to the demon realm, Jinu would have spent hundreds of years perfecting his craft. I don’t know how many chances Gwi-Ma gave him, but by the time he formed the Saja Boys, he had spent four hundred years preparing a perfect attack against us.”

Rumi tapped her nails against the folder. “So…the Saja Boys’ success wasn’t just, like, demon magic or whatever?”

Celine looked up from a sip of coffee. “Demons can do lots of things, but not many of them can write a song like Soda Pop.”

Rumi smiled sadly. “I guess not,” she said. “So, why now? I mean, if Jinu was fighting the Hunters for centuries, why did he only do so well this time?”

“The same reason that HUNTR/X represents the strongest form of the Hunters,” Celine said. “This era is uniquely suited to give immense powers to those with the gift of song.”

Celine gestured to the folder. Rumi flipped to the next document, an excerpt of a book on the history of popular music in Korea.

“In the past, the Hunters could only operate locally and spread their power through oral tradition. A breakthrough came with the development of the music industry, which made our most powerful weapon widely accessible.”

Rumi flipped another page, revealing pictures of the Sunlight Sisters and HUNTR/X.

“What the world knows now as K-Pop was constructed through the generations as the ultimate weapon against Gwi-Ma. It combines everything he’s weak to - unity, joy, hope, love - with the greatest assets from multiple forms of music and celebration.”

Celine smiled sadly. “During your mother and I’s generation, K-Pop began to reach a global audience. And thanks to your generation’s culture with social media, it’s mutated far beyond that. Taking all that into account, it’s no coincidence that you, Mira, and Zoey were the ones to seal the honmoon.”

Rumi took a moment to think. “Then that’s also why the Saja Boys were so powerful,” she said.

Celine nodded. “Correct,” she affirmed. “Jinu leveraged everything that made HUNTR/X so powerful against us. Jinu may have battled us before, but never in a time when technology enabled him to weaponize his…assets so effectively.”

Rumi felt heat rise to her face. “So…what, Jinu was more powerful now because of…thirst traps?”

“Among other things, yes.”

“Wait, you know what thirst traps are?!”

“In any case ,” Celine said firmly. “Now you understand everything we know about how the human and demon realms interact around Jinu. He should be uniquely tethered to both because of his service to Gwi-Ma as well as his connection with things that are uniquely human, especially in his most recent iteration.”

Rumi stared down at the documents, flipping through them to skim their information. Celine watched her quietly until she eventually closed the folder and set it to the side. 

“If Jinu’s power was tied to people’s perceptions of him,” Rumi started, “Then maybe I can figure out how to leverage that to bring him back.” Celine blinked.

“Wait, bring him back?” Celine said. “What are you talking about?”

“Before he…died, Jinu gave me his soul,” Rumi said. Celine’s eyes widened.

“What?” Celine breathed. Rumi nodded, standing up to pace the porch. 

“I don’t know what the deal is, but his soul’s still with me, I think,” she said. “If Jinu’s power is still manifesting in the world through his music, then maybe there’s some way to connect the two. It could form a bridge or something to bring him back!”

Celine stood slowly, looking at her foster daughter with a grave expression.

“Rumi,” she said in a low voice. “What you’re suggesting isn’t possible. Trust me.”

Rumi frowned. “Celine-”

“I know I haven’t done much for you to trust me recently,” Celine continued. “Or even throughout your life, for that matter. But this isn’t good for you, Rumi. For all we know, it could be dangerous. We’ve never heard of anyone passing their soul to someone before.”

“Exactly!” Rumi said. “If we don’t know anything about it, then there must be something to know!”

“You’re playing god here, Rumi.”

“I’m playing demon , Celine,” she insisted. “And since he’s gone, I’m the only one who knows what that’s like.”

“Rumi…” Celine took a deep breath. “Are you sure we don’t need to talk about you and Jinu?”

Rumi hugged her arms, feeling tears welling up. “I…I don't even know what to say.”

Celine approached her cautiously, laying a hand on her shoulder, stroking her thumb over Rumi’s patterns. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Celine said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past couple of weeks…it’s that I understand that I don’t understand. And I should have been filling that void with empathy instead of rejection. Especially with you.”

There are things I think I can forgive them for…and then there are other things we need to talk about.

Rumi looked up at Celine, who smiled down at her through glassy eyes, before slowly pulling her foster mother into a hug. Celine returned it gently, but firmly.

“Thank you, Rumi,” she said unevenly. “Thank you.” She pulled away and held Rumi at her shoulders.

“I love you,” Celine said, tracing a hand over her face. “ All of you.”

Rumi’s eyes watered again, and she sent herself back into Celine’s embrace.

“Was my mother like this?” Rumi whispered. “With my father?”

Celine sighed and stroked her hair. “That was…a little different.” She pulled away and took Rumi by the hand.

“Come,” she said gently, leading her into the house. “Let me tell you a story.”

Chapter Text

Rumi sat curled on the couch of the penthouse, scribbling in her notebook as Tiger rested its head on the sofa next to her. Rumi’s laptop laid open on the coffee table, where Mira and Zoey’s faces looked not-at her over video call. 

“Wait, if we bring him back, then is he gonna be a demon or a human again?” Zoey asked. “If he’s a demon then will he still be under Gwi-Ma’s control? And if he comes back as not-a-demon, wouldn’t he age super-rapidly and disintegrate or something?”

“Uhhhh…”

“Let’s get back on track,” Mira insisted flatly. “If Rumi’s theory about people’s perception of Jinu is correct, then you can’t rely on it. That all depended on him making music, which he can’t do anymore.”

“Maybeeee…” Rumi said, tapping her pen against her lips. “...we can get someone to do a cover!”

“Bad idea,” Mira said, wagging her finger. “Now that they’re gone, you don’t want to start a flame war between what's left of Saja Boys fans-”

“The Pride,” Rumi interjected.

“-and whoever’s…did you just correct me on the Saja Boys’ fandom name?”

“...”

“Rumi, are you a closeted Pride member?”

“Okay, so no cover,” Rumi pivoted, scratching something out on her page. She sighed, half-slamming the notebook down on the couch and reaching her arms out for Tiger to shift its head from the cushions to her arms. 

“Rumi, you’re missing the obvious answer,” Mira said. “You can finish the song you and Jinu made. With all the weird, crazy logic we’re operating with, that makes the most sense.”

Rumi puffed stray hairs out of her face. “Maybe,” she said noncommittally. “The song healed my voice…and Jinu did tell me he stopped hearing Gwi-Ma’s voice when we sang it.”

“Then that seals it!” Zoey said. “Other than the fact that that’s soooo romantic, then it means that the song does have power! If it was strong enough to block out Gwi-Ma and heal your voice, then maybe it could do something for Jinu’s soul! All the power is in the feelings , girl!”

Mira nodded. “That…kinda makes sense. I mean, we beat Gwi-Ma with the power of self-acceptance. Maybe feelings are the answer.”

That’s all demons do. Feel.

Rumi was silent, mind racing as she propped her forearms on her knees. Mira raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you couldn't connect those dots?” she said.

Rumi sighed. “No, I did. And I think that’s the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

Rumi tapped her pencil against her fingers. “Well, it's the best we’ve got,” she said. “It all adds up. Jinu’s soul is on this side of the honmoon, the song has power, and music is the strongest thing that connects him to the human realm. But…what if it doesn’t work? It’d be like he’s really gone.”

The call went silent. Mira and Zoey would usually look to each other in these moments, but here they could only stare blankly at their screens.

“I know I should say something smart, or comforting,” Mira eventually said, “But it’s already a black and white outcome, Rumi. From what we know, finishing the song is our best bet.”

“I know,” Rumi said. “But the only thing keeping me going right now is the hope that I can do something about this, you know?” She ran her hands over the patterns on her arms. “If I can’t…then who am I going to be? Who was I before I wasn’t alone?”

“Rumi,” Zoey spoke out. “Do you remember what I told you at the airport? That, whether or not you can bring him back, he made his choice?”

Rumi nodded. 

“You’re doing this because you love him, right?”

Rumi (slowly) nodded again.

“Then do this for love. Not because you have to change the world, or change what happened, but because you love him.”

Rumi stared at Zoey through her screen. Mira blinked, similarly stunned.

“Zoey,” Mira said softly. “When did you get so mature?”

“What?!” Zoey exclaimed, her briefly rock-solid demeanor collapsing. “I’ve always been mature!”

“Maybe,” Rumi giggled. “I guess we never gave you too many chances to show it.”

The trio broke into laughter before Mira spoke up.

“Alright, Rumi,” Mira said. “Then it’s game time. Are you finishing the song?”

Rumi took a sharp breath. “Yeah,” she said firmly. “I’m gonna finish the song.”

Cheers erupted from her friends, drawing a smile out of her sadness. 

“Wow, a duet between Rumi and Jinu,” Zoey breathed. “The fans are gonna go crazy!”

Rumi blinked. “The fans?” she said. “What are you talking about?”

Mira and Zoey blinked back at her. “Well,” Zoey said. “Jinu got his power from the fans, just like us, right? Then…the only way this resurrection-plan-thingy will work is if the fans can hear the song.”

Rumi’s eyes widened. Mira’s eyes flashed their signature needle-point stare.

“Rumi,” she said in her gentlest voice. “We’re not treating this like some crazy fantasy anymore. We have to be practical. Doing everything we can to harness enough power to manifest Jinu’s soul or whatever is the only way this could work.”

“I know,” Rumi said. “It’s just…really personal.”

What felt like their hundredth stern pause fell over them before Zoey chimed in.

“Rumi, have you ever tried, like, talking to Jinu?”

Rumi blinked. “What?”

“Have you tried talking to him?” Zoey repeated. “I mean, right now he’s inside you, right? 

“Please don’t say it like that,” Mira grimaced, holding her hand to her mouth as Rumi’s face flashed red.

“Well,” Zoey continued. “If Jinu’s soul is with Rumi, maybe she can still connect with him. So, have you tried it?”

Rumi sighed. “No, I haven’t,” she admitted. 

“Alright then, we’ve got a plan,” Mira said. “Rumi, you try talking to Jinu. I’ll be home this weekend before I leave to start filming my movie. Zoey, if you’re doing press and get asked about the Saja Boys, figure out how to drop hints about Rujinu to spark speculation online.”

“Wait, what?!” Rumi exclaimed.

“We’re trying to be scientific about this, Rumi,” Mira replied. “The fans are a factor, right? Then we need to start taking advantage of that while the Saja Boys are still a recent memory. If we can make the fans want Rujinu even more than they probably already did, then maybe that could conjure up some major power with the song.”

“So…” Zoey said, tapping her finger on her chin. “You’re telling me that my big role in bringing Jinu back is…ship-baiting?”

“Please don’t call it that,” Rumi said, putting her hand over her face to conceal her blush. 

“It’s the scientific term, Rumi,” Zoey said with a mischievous smile. “I’m throwing the first pitch at the Dodgers game this Saturday, so someone’s bound to ask me about the Saja Boys fiasco there. If I know the press, then the conversation’s bound to go to all the shipping rumors.”

“Perfect,” Mira said. “Then Rumi, we can start recording as soon as I’m back, if you’re up for it.”

Rumi nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it.” She took a hard swallow. “Thank you, guys,” she said. “I promise I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“There’s nothing to make up, Rumi,” Mira said. “We’re all doing this out of love.”

“Yeah, Rumi,” Zoey said. “We love you.”

Rumi smiled wide as she wiped away a tear. “Thanks, guys. Mira, I’ll see you soon. Zoey, I’m thinking about coming out to see you by the end of the month. And try to hold back on that pitch?”

“I will! Alright, bye Rumi, bye Mira!”

“Bye, you guys. See you soon, Rumi.”

“Bye Zoey, bye Mira!”

The call cut to a close at north of two hours. Rumi sighed, holding out her arms for Tiger to cuddle up to her.

.....

She closed her bedroom door behind her before slipping out onto the balcony. Rumi knew it was strange to try for privacy when there was no one else in the penthouse, but it felt right. It was routine. She was too used to keeping up the walls, even when she was alone.

That was what drew her to Jinu: no walls, no hiding. Just understanding.

It was evening, when the sun was sinking out of sight. The sorbet shades of the sky cascaded over the shimmering glitter of the honmoon. She felt like it was a daily “job well done” from the universe. 

Tiger laid to her left, poking at her flowerpots. Bird rested on its wide blue back, all six eyes beginning to close as it faced the sunset.

Rumi walked up to them, crouching down to give Tiger pets. It purred as her touch glided from its ears to the bottom of its chin, giving it a few scratches.

“Do you ever miss him too?” she asked. Tiger blinked asynchronously before letting out a low growl and sinking to the floor. Bird stirred and stood to attention before fluttering up to the rail.

“Well…it’s good that we’re together,” she said, continuing to pet the big cat and looking towards Bird. “We’re all that’s left of him.”

Tiger nuzzled up against her, pressing the side of its ear over her heart. Rumi held it close.

“Right,” she whispered into the mass of blue fur. “He’s…somewhere in here…”

She stood up, placing one hand on the railing and the other over her heart before taking a deep breath.

“Uh…Jinu?” she said. “I-It’s me. Rumi.”

She pressed her palm deeper into her chest, desperate to feel a heartbeat other than her own.

“I’ve…been doing okay,” she said. “Me and the girls are on hiatus now, so I’m home alone…but everything’s good. People are starting to forget about Soda Pop , though.” She giggled. “Guess you were kind of a one-hit-wonder, huh?”

Still nothing. She sighed, taking her hand off her heart and leaning both arms on the railing, taking in the city view. This was stupid.

“None of this explains how you got the demo to me,” she muttered. “I mean, we sang that song the night before the Idol Awards. Did you stay up all night recording it or something?”

Bird fluttered up to sit next to her on the railing. Tiger sat beside her. 

“If that was your just in case , then why did you do what you did anyway? Why did you betray me?” she said, frustration flooding her face.

“Why did you only change your mind when you did?” She began to feel tears come up as her voice rose. 

“Why did you have to sacrifice yourself?” She felt her patterns burn as they began to glow violet.

“You knew I wanted you to be free. I know you wanted to be free, with me !” she sobbed.

“Why did you only love me when it was too late?!”

It was your song.

Rumi gasped, breaking away from the railing like it was red hot. She whipped around, looking all over the balcony, then into her room. No one was there. She turned to Tiger and Bird, who were similarly darting their eyes around them. 

The sun had fully set, and the only light left in the world were the ones made by man, dancing across the city.

“Jinu?” she whispered. “Jinu?”

There was nothing. All she could hear were her own panicked breaths and roaring heartbeat. She sank to the floor, where Tiger and Bird rushed over to be with her. The big cat’s giant eyes frowned in concern while Bird pecked gently at the loose hairs along her neck. She placed a hand on both of them.

“I’m okay,” she breathed. “I’m okay.” She looked over the city, where the shimmer of the honmoon flashed across the land. She gave Tiger a scratch, who, still frowning, licked her wrist.

“Hey,” she giggled. “C’mon, that tickles.” She placed her hand under its chin, gently guiding its gaze up to her. “Cheer up, everything’s okay.”

He’s coming back . 

Chapter Text

After convincing herself that she wasn’t crazy (especially considering how she was already spending her hiatus), talking to Jinu became a regular fixture of her day.

She would wake up and say “good morning” to Tiger, Bird, then Jinu. It took a while for her to shake off the embarrassment; it was like greeting an imaginary friend. Luckily, it only took shuffling her feet out from under the demonic blue tiger at the foot of her bed to remember that nothing about her life was imagined.

After the awkwardness subsided, other feelings became more apparent. She made breakfast for herself, Tiger, and Bird every morning. She didn’t know if full-demons even needed to eat, but they always took what she gave them (although startlingly, they never seemed to go to the bathroom). Their dietary preferences resembled their human-realm counterparts: canned fish or raw meat for Tiger and any variety of crushed grains for Bird. 

It was through making her weird little family’s breakfast that she realized there was so much about Jinu she’d never gotten to know. Something as simple as what he liked to eat, for example. After becoming a demon, she doubted he’d spent much of his time in the human realm indulging in something like food. Or…anything, for that matter.

Maybe those were just bad memories to him.

She would’ve tried to make good memories for him. They’d throw on generic idol-in-public disguises and run the town, going to all her favorite places until they were inevitably spotted and forced to retreat to the penthouse. Paparazzi photos would leak before they could even check their phones, but she’d worry about it later. Then they’d eat all the beautiful junk foods Mira and Zoey stocked up while not-watching something on the couch. Maybe one day she’d try to make him a meal that turned out just “okay.” He’d lie, and she’d know, and they’d laugh it off before she spent a week practicing on Mira and Zoey before trying again for him. 

These were the things she’d never thought about before, when she’d first offered him to side with her. She’d never thought of what they’d be after it was all over. These were the things she could only think about now that he was gone. The things they might have done if he’d stayed. If he hadn’t done what he’d done.

If she could've convinced him not to. 

After breakfast, she’d hit the private dance studio downstairs. A hiatus was no reason to get lazy, especially with Bobby waiting in the wings with a plan for their sooner-than-later comeback. She’d run through the entire choreography of their previous world tour before plopping down onto the studio bench, where she wiped the sweat off her brow and listened to her gradually-steadying breath.

It was here, alone in a room of mirrors, that she’d spend a solid five minutes talking to Jinu. Something about the mirrors made it easier, like she could better visualize him somewhere in the room. She usually liked to put him next to her on the bench. 

That was where she’d heard him again for the first time since the balcony. At least, what she’d taken to calling “hearing” him. 

Jinu rarely “answered” anything she said, but when he did, it wasn’t really in words. There were just…feelings. She’d been (reluctantly) admitting how good the choreo for Soda Pop was when a warm wave of (what felt like) pride washed over her. The sensation was almost like heartburn, making her stand up and place both hands over her chest. A flash of mirth spread through her before disappearing in a second, leaving her with only her own shock. 

You’ve cried enough , she’d told herself over and over again. But she couldn’t help feeling a relief and comfort from feeling him that made her well up.

It was a good feeling. So, so good.

After the dance studio, she’d go back up to the penthouse to wash up. The epiphany that Jinu’s soul could be present with her in the shower came a bit too late, making her yelp in the middle of shampooing her blanket of hair, face burning well above the mild temperature of the water (too hot was bad for both skin and hair). She eventually decided that, since she didn’t really “hear” Jinu during these moments, he’d given her privacy. Much like every other part of their situation, she had no idea how that would work. Interrogating him about it once he was back sat near the top of her wish list, right below punching and hugging him (possibly in that order).

She began keeping a journal of their progress, submitting three entries by the time Mira got home. It was then that she finally got to tell somebody about all of this. They sat late into the night, with Rumi going on about how she’d learned to “hear” Jinu, and everything she’d experimented with to have it happen as often as possible.

Mira would smile, and listen quietly with an occasional question. 

“This is…weird,” Mira said during a lull. “But amazing, too. I mean, you’ve never opened up about yourself much before.” She looked down as a pang of guilt ran through her. “Obviously, now, I get why, but…I was starting to think the day would never come when we could…I don’t know…” She turned away, a tinge of pink spreading over her cheeks as she dropped her voice. “...Talk about…boys.”

Rumi snorted, struggling to suppress her laughter. Mira shot her a scowl. 

“Sorry,” Rumi giggled. “It’s just rare to see you like this, too.” 

Mira smirked, which quickly blossomed into (her version of) a full smile.

“I especially never thought I’d see a day where you were this down bad for someone,” Mira teased. “I mean, for girls like us, it’s usually the other way around.”

Rumi sighed. “I guess so,” she said. “But it’s like you and Zoey said: I had so many walls, and with him, I couldn’t really have any.”

Mira nodded. “That sounds…nice. I mean, after the initial mind games, of course.”

Rumi chuckled. “Yeah. It was. It felt so right . Felt so-”

“Free?” Mira interjected. Rumi blushed and nodded.

“In every meaning of the word,” Rumi whispered. Mira drummed her fingers against her knee.

“I’m jealous,” Mira admitted, much to Rumi’s shock. “We haven’t had any time for this kind of stuff in years, so…kind of ironic that the demon apocalypse gave you your ultimate romance, huh?”

Rumi smiled sadly. “I guess,” she said. “Well, Romance and Abby seemed pretty into you. I mean, you know, until you killed them.”

Mira laughed darkly. “Yeah. That was awesome .”

Rumi blinked. “Really? I kind of thought you were convincing yourself not to like them. Especially Abby. You were, um…fixated on him, in particular.”

Mira flushed. “What?!” she exclaimed. “I so was not!”

Rumi’s expression dropped. “Mira, you set up a punching bag with abs in our dressing room.”

Mira held her signature scowl before sighing and hunching over. “Alright, fine . He was…hard to ignore. But surprisingly easy to kill.” She sighed again. “I guess I learned I was kind of shallow when it comes to that stuff. This industry doesn’t really incentivize anyone to be real , you know? After we became trainees, the only thing we learned about relationships was don’t .”

Rumi nodded. “Yeah,” she agreed. “I guess I can blame a lot of awkwardness on that.”

Mischief flashed over Mira’s face. “Oh, I would have paid good money to spectate those...what did you call them? Rendezvouses with Jinu.”

Rumi dragged her palms down her face. “ Ugh , don’t remind me.” 

Mira went quiet as Rumi’s retrospective embarrassment subsided. “Rumi,” Mira said. “If… when Jinu comes back…what will you say to him?”

Rumi took a moment to think. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it. Dreamed about the moment she’d bring him back to her. All kinds of things came to mind. Some very embarrassing, some very violent, but all of them just… them .

“I think…” Rumi began. “I think I’d just forgive him. He should know how much he hurt me…but I don’t want it to hurt anymore. I don’t want him to hurt anymore.”

A pang of guilt shot through her: Jinu. She shifted in her seat, rubbing circles over her heart to calm the pain - to comfort him. Mira didn’t seem to notice. A moment of silence fell over them as they stared out through the vast windows of the penthouse, overlooking the mosaic of light that was the city at night.

“You know, Rumi,” Mira said softly. “I know we’ve done all the soul-bearing stuff already, but…I never apologized to you about what I did…when your patterns were exposed.”

Rumi softened and scooted closer to Mira. “What do you mean?” she asked gently. “You, me, and Zoey cried it out at the bathhouse, remember?”

Mira shook her head. “Yeah, but…I wanted to say it again, when we were alone.” She looked up to lock eyes with Rumi, and a tremor of emotion ran through her.

“I’m so sorry, Rumi,” she trembled. “I…I was a terrible friend. I was a terrible person . Even with all the secrets and misunderstandings…I can’t believe I actually raised my weapon against you…”

Rumi pulled her into an embrace, feeling Mira go stiff in her arms.

“Mira,” she whispered in her ear. “I forgive you. Just like you forgave me.”

Mira sniffled. It was very weird to see her so vulnerable. “But-”

“But nothing,” Rumi said. “I’ll admit, I was really scared and heartbroken, but you came to me when I needed you most, remember?”

She pulled away to match their teary gazes.

“Our voices without the lies, right? We let the world know that day. We saved the world that day. You don’t have to forget anything anyone did. But…let the past be the past. I’m so, so happy that you’re here with me, in the present.”

Mira barely managed to stifle a sob before crashing into Rumi, who returned her embrace just as tightly.

“I’ll always be here,” Mira declared through tears. 

“So will I,” Rumi replied, tightening her grip on her friend.

It was then that she felt a wave of… regret wash over her. It startled her; not enough to break her embrace with Mira, but enough to turn her mind to Jinu for just a moment as she held her friend.

How many chances do we get to apologize? How many chances do we give ourselves to forgive?

She swallowed hard, stroking Mira’s soft, strawberry hair as she let her gaze pass through the window overlooking the city. 

.....

“Ready?” she heard Mira ask into her headphones. Rumi shot her a thumbs up through the glass of the recording booth.

“Ready,” Rumi affirmed. Mira gave her nod before looking down at the mixer. The heavy quiet of the booth rang in her ears. She wrung her hands and swayed from side to side in anticipation. She took a deep breath. 

Jinu , she thought loudly. Please listen. 

The metronome began counting down from four.

I meant every word then, and I mean every word now.

Three.

I want you here. I want to finally get to know you. I want you to have your second chance.

Two.

Come back to me. So we can be free. Together .

One.

The instrumental rose in her headphones. She took a final breath before launching into her verse.

For the entirety of the song, she felt two of every emotion.

Chapter Text

IDOL NEWS UPDATE

MAJOR STAR CONFIRMS ROMANCE WHILE ABROAD???

HUNTR/X rapper Zoey, currently on a three month “pseudo-hiatus” with the group, recently appeared at Dodger Stadium in her hometown of Los Angeles, where she threw the ceremonial first pitch at Saturday’s game vs. the New York Yankees. Although she missed wildly, radar guns showed her throwing at a velocity of 130 kph (roughly 80 mph), wowing fans in attendance.

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been practicing,” she told Idol News Update.

The Burbank native gave multiple interviews before and after the game to multiple outlets, but Idol News Update was able to get some “golden” insight on what the queens of K-Pop have been up to during their hiatus.

“We’re taking some much-needed rest,” Zoey explained. “But we’re also using this opportunity to explore things that we couldn’t really do when we were focusing on the group.”

These “other opportunities” have recently come to light. HUNTR/X's lead dancer and international style icon Mira was confirmed to join the cast of BUSAN 7, an all-female heist-thriller that will reportedly begin filming in the eponymous city next week. The project will mark her film debut, sparking wild speculation over her future on the big screen. 

Meanwhile, Zoey, who has spent the first month of HUNTR/X’s hiatus in Los Angeles, has been similarly busy off-camera. “The nation’s little sister” recently spoke at her alma mater, Burbank High School, where she graduated virtually while in idol training. She was also recently confirmed to be participating in a cypher made entirely of female rappers from the Los Angeles area for the charity organization QUEENS, which supports underprivileged young women in the arts throughout Southern California.

On the other hand, the trio’s lead vocalist, Rumi, has been notably absent from the spotlight. A potential bombshell about the group’s frontwoman slipped out during our interview with Zoey. When asked about HUNTR/X's recent rivalry and on-stage collaboration with the Saja Boys (who have seemingly disappeared since last month's International Idol Awards) she had this to say:

“That was…a very taxing experience for all of us. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I know that that performance was the culmination of an entire career for HUNTR/X, and we hope everyone enjoyed it. I think Mira and I are in a better position to be more active in our hiatus, but Rumi's the hardest worker in our industry, and she took a really proactive role leading up to the Idol Awards. She and Jinu spent a lot of late nights collaborating on that production, and I’m just respecting everyone’s needs right now.”

When we asked for further details on the extent and nature of Rumi and Jinu’s "collaboration," she refused to comment, sparking further speculation of a possible Rumi x Jinu relationship (dubbed “RuJinu” by fans) that has run red-hot since the Saja Boys’ debut and subsequent rivalry with HUNTR/X.

The evidence is beginning to pile up, but what do you think? Comment below if you think RuJinu are spending their “hiatus” up close and personal.

Read next articles:

(VIDEO) “ENEMIES TO LOVERS?”: BODY LANGUAGE EXPERT ANALYZES EVERY RUJINU INTERACTION

“YOUR IDOL”: COMMENTARY OR CONTENT? TO THINK OR TO THIRST?

“MIROMABBY”: IS KOREA READY FOR POLYAMORY? AMERICAN K-POP FANS DECIDE

.....

Rumi sighed, flopping back onto her mattress with a groan. These were one of the very few times she appreciated Celine’s approach to both parenting and management. During HUNTR/X’s early years, she was notoriously strict with the press, striking down any and all rumor mills. She was one of the few people who, within the industry, the paparazzi were afraid of. Most of that changed when she hired Bobby, who had a protective but much more lax approach to "public engagement." Still, Celine’s fingerprints remained, and until recently, HUNTR/X enjoyed a press profile made of (mostly) innocent rumors. 

That all changed with the Saja Boys. Because of Gwi-Ma and Jinu, they had always been in the same spotlights as HUNTR/X. Rumi blamed Gwi-Ma and Jinu’s nosiness but knew that her behavior at the dual-signing hadn’t helped.

The Saja Boys were still fading in the public’s favor and attention, but one of the few things keeping them alive were the shipping rumors. After all (according to the internet), it was no coincidence that both groups had shared so much stage time before simultaneously deciding to slip out of the public eye. 

Just a couple weeks ago, that would’ve been reason enough for Rumi to stay completely offline for three whole months. Now, it was a daily ritual to make sure that the internet was buzzing about RuJinu as much as possible. Rumor mills, behind-the-scenes material, social media edits, the works. Rumi had even worked up the courage to look into RuJinu fanfiction, though she never actually read any. Some of the tags were… risqué , to say the least. 

No one had any idea just how important all of it was to bring Jinu back; to keep the idea of him in their hearts. To visual him next to her. That would be the conduit through which they could harness the song’s power.

Rumi now held in her hands the power to shift everything. Her phone was open to her social media, where a tentative post waited on the screen; a black-and-white photo of her looking wistful in the recording booth, taken by Mira the other day. 

The caption? “Soon…w/ @jinu”

The plan was to release the picture on all her accounts, then have Mira and Zoey repost with feigned shock. What had been a fringe rumor fueled by extreme parasocial over-analyzation would now be fueled by more over-analyzation, but from the source. From her and her music, the thing that connected the fans, her, Jinu, and the idea of them together.

HUNTR/X never did collabs. The public understood this as a carry-over from Celine and the Sunlight Sisters, but it was really for the sake of protecting the honmoon. Collaborations meant time away from that, which was a definite no-go. However, as HUNTR/X’s popularity rose, some concessions had to be made. As the years went on, the group would find the occasional feature for the occasional single that, for whatever reason , never quite connected with the fans the way the rest of the album would.

For the trio’s lead vocalist to embark on a solo collaboration would be earth-shattering, especially if it was with her rival-turned-maybe-boyfriend-according-to-the-internet. And that was exactly what she needed for the next phase of the plan.

“Two more months of anticipation and drip-feeding content, then BAM ! Our comeback concert ends with the rumored RuJinu single!” Zoey had said.

Now, with her finger hovering over the “post” button, she felt nauseous. It was a feeling similar to dropping any other song; the jitters were always there. In the past it had been from anxiousness over their music’s effectiveness in sealing the honmoon. But now, it was something completely different. 

She was doing this for her . Not the world, not the honmoon, not Mira or Zoey or Celine, just her .

She’d never done that before.

Rumi shot up from her bed, leaving her phone behind to wander onto the balcony, where Tiger and Bird were napping in the afternoon sun. She watched a flock of sparrows glide over the trees. The sounds of the city hummed below her, and the honmoon glittered as the world teemed with the life she’d saved.

It was a horrible time to begin questioning the ethics of resurrecting someone from the dead.

She was doing this for her . Jinu had made his decision, like Zoey said. The circumstances couldn’t have been worse, but he’d made his choice. Was he at peace with that? Was he with his family? Was the afterlife as healing as she wanted it to be for him?

Well…he wasn’t there. His soul had stayed with her. Stayed . Not a one-time power up to vanquish Gwi-Ma before ascending to eternal rest. He was still with her. 

But was that what he intended? Did he know that would happen? Did he want to stay? Did he want to come back? He hadn’t said anything against her plan so far, so maybe he did.

But what if none of this worked? She was already manipulating the fans’ feelings and attention. If this didn’t pan out, would they hate her for it? Would HUNTR/X’s reputation suffer? How would Mira and Zoey be affected? Would Jinu be disappointed? Would she be forced into a hiatus-turned-retirement and be haunted by Jinu’s imprisoned soul until she died?

She was hyperventilating. Panicking hard . She gripped the rail and forced herself to breathe, sucking in as much air as she could get. Tiger nuzzled up against her leg, eyes frowning in concern. She knelt down, sitting on the floor to embrace it. 

“It’s okay,” she said. “It’ll be okay.”

She sat for a while, wrapped in a heavy blue blanket until she could feel her heartbeat slow to a normal pace. She sighed and leaned her head back against the wall.

She placed a hand over her heart, exhaling against the chill of the air. She felt a ping of concern from Jinu run through her.

“Jinu,” she breathed. “What should I do?”

There was silence. But not a weightless silence. Rumi waited, transferring her hand from her chest to the mass of fur in front of her. She breathed out again, growing restless for Jinu’s answer.

“Jinu…” she said again.

It was your song.

She jumped as his voice reverberated through every cavern of her being. Tiger and Bird both stood at attention, looking around the balcony for their absent friend. Rumi stood up and slowly plodded back into her room.

“My song?” she questioned aloud. “ Our song?”

The scars are part of me…darkness and harmony…

Her lungs emptied as she remembered that night, marching up the stage towards Gwi-Ma with Mira and Zoey at her side as Jinu looked on.

She remembered struggling against the sheer force of Gwi-Ma's hate. She remembered the confusion she felt when it suddenly gave way, swiftly replaced by horror as she looked up to see Jinu protecting her.

His eyes. Oh, his eyes. 

Doubt…regret…repentance…acceptance.

“Oh, Jinu…” she whimpered. “Please tell me…please tell me if this is okay. If being here…with me…would be okay.”

A memory flashed through her mind. It felt like the thump of a migraine shooting through her. The suddenness of the sensation made her stumble, bracing her skull in her hands.

She saw herself. Multiple flashes of herself. She recognized the moments.

His hand, reaching up to her face on the rooftop, their patterns glowing in unison.

His hand, gripping her wrist. The blue bracelet was in her hand. The view panned up to her face, frozen in shock.

His hands, holding hers, the entire world sparkling around them. She was smiling, her eyes as deep as the ocean and bright as the sun.

Her hands, reaching up to him, the world glowing in demonic shades as tears gathered in her eyes. Her patterns were showing. Finally showing. 

In every moment, there was a kaleidoscope of feelings. Many different things. Curiosity, mischief, sympathy, doubt, compassion, guilt, admiration, clarity, hope.

At the center of it all was peace. Every moment was so peaceful. A kind of peace that wasn’t hers but that she knew so well.

The memories faded, and she sat stunned on her bed, hugging herself as his warmth seemed to evaporate with the images in her head. Tiger and Bird roamed close, eyes still wandering about. She took a hard swallow.

“Is that your answer?” Rumi whispered. She felt something inside, like a match being lit in a snowstorm. The flame yearned and begged to breathe and grow into an inferno. She wasn’t sure who’d lit the fire. 

She reached for her phone.

I want a voice without the lies.

Chapter Text

Before, she knew she’d dreamed of him, but the memory of it vanished when she awoke. All she could piece together was the fact that he was there. 

Now that she could hear him, she remembered more and more, all in vivid detail.

In her dream, she was sitting by the sea. The sky was bright, canvassed by kingdoms of clouds.  The waves met the sand with the soft chorus of the current, pushing and pulling at her attention. She sat on the left side of a white bench, perched right behind the border between the beach and the sidewalk. The bustle of a city rang behind her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back - to look away from the gentle tide.

Someone sat down to her right, just outside her peripheral vision. Instantly, she felt his ethereal warmth radiating from the other side of the bench.

“Is this…the inside of your mind?” Jinu asked. She stared out at the blue, still unable to tear her gaze away.

“No,” she said plainly. “It’s just the sea.”

“Did you…bring me here?”

“I don’t know. But it’s pretty, isn’t it?”

Her question was met with silence. She picked at the fabric of her pants.

“Jinu?”

“I’m here, Rumi.”

The sound of her name, light and airy on his deep breath, brought a sad smile to her face.

“Is this the only way we can be together?” she asked. “I can’t see you, or touch you, or hear you most of the time…but I feel you.”

Jinu was quiet. A cold breeze flew by, throwing sand at her feet.

“I don’t know how any of this works, Rumi,” he admitted. “All I know is that ever since that day…all I know…and all I have… and all that I am…is you.”

Tears rose to her eyes. She could feel that tears were coming to him, too.

“Jinu,” she whispered. “Do you think…this is love?”

Jinu tensed. Rumi fought desperately to look away from the ocean, to finally see his face after all this time. But something about the water kept her there, almost hypnotically.

“Rumi…” he breathed. She felt his hesitation. His guilt. 

“What I mean is…when two people just know each other,” she elaborated. “I…I played it tough before, but I don’t know much about dating or romance or anything that people call love . To be honest, I’ve never been interested in any of it. And I love people, but not like this.”

Tears dragged down the side of her face. She still couldn’t bring herself to look away from the sea.

“When two people need each other,” she continued. “When one person knows that there will never be another person like the other ever again and so they need to know them...if someone hopes more than anything to know them…is this love?”

Jinu paused. She still couldn’t break her gaze away from the water.

“Maybe,” he said. She felt another wicked blossom of guilt and regret growing out of him. “But Rumi-”

“ Jinu ,” she pleaded. “Don’t think like that.”

“After everything I’ve done…you know what I’ve done.”

“I do.”

“You don’t care?”

“I do . But only because I care about you .”

Jinu went quiet. She felt a storm brewing from the other end of the bench as the sky above them continued to shine bright. She just couldn’t take her eyes away from the tide.

“You want a voice without the lies, right?” she asked. “Then you have to come back and let me hear it. Come back and tell me you’re sorry. Come back and live a life you can be proud of. Come back and spend the rest of that life getting to know me, because that’s what I’m going to do with you.”

A pause fell over them. The waves went silent. The world began to fade in front of her.

“I wish it was easier…” Jinu said. “I wish we had more time.”

Rumi stood, finally able to rip her gaze from the ocean to where he was sitting. But no one was there. 

“Jinu!” she shouted, whipping around as her view began folding into black. “Jinu!”

“I don’t know how any of it works, Rumi,” his voice rang out, vibrating through her conscience. “I’m scared.”

“I’m scared, too,” she whispered. 

“I’m scared…”

.....

She heard the blare of the alarm clock before she could open her eyes. She let out a groan as she flipped to her side, instinctively flailing her arm to hit the off button.

Her wrist slammed into a hard, unfamiliar edge, causing her to recoil and writhe from the pain.

“Ow ow ow ow ow…” she hissed. She forced her eyelids open to look at the alarm clock. 

That wasn’t her alarm clock. And that wasn’t her dresser. And the sun didn’t pour into her room like that .

She sat up to scan her new surroundings. Her room had, apparently, shrunken to half its size, adopted pastel pink and green wallpaper, and littered itself with posters and cut-outs of various Korean idols and American rappers from the 2010s. A small desk sat at the opposite wall, covered with various notebooks. A white baseball jersey was draped over the chair, with “HUNTR/X” emblazoned on the back in blue.

Through the continued whine of the alarm, she heard a groan to her right, and looked over to find Zoey, clinging to a giant turtle plush like a koala. Zoey turned towards the noise, stretching her arm out and over to take care of it, only for her open palm to land squarely on Rumi’s cheek with a dry smack . 

Rumi sighed, reaching over to flip the alarm off. Zoey let out a satisfied hmmmm before cuddling up to Rumi. 

“Rumi…” she grumbled. “You’re kind of a fitful sleeper.”

.....

She sat on another bench, this time very grounded in reality. The California sun weaved its way through the leaves and branches that canopied over her, creating the shade where she watched as Zoey skipped along the sidewalk over to her. 

“Here,” Zoey chimed, thrusting an ice cream bar into her hand. Rumi smiled as Zoey sat to her left, gleefully tearing into her own ice cream.

“Thanks, Zoey,” she said, taking a bite of the soft orange treat. She looked around, watching as various bodies seemed to trampoline up and down from under the ground from the skatepark in the distance. There was a playground to their right, where various children spider-monkeyed around the metal diorama and brushed soil from their clothes. Zoey pointed to the skatepark.

“Broke my arm there when I was twelve,” she said between dives into her ice cream. “Got right up and hit my first kickflip before they took me to the hospital.”

Rumi giggled, which made Zoey giggle, which made the world brighter. 

“Do you miss it?” Rumi asked. Zoey tilted her head. “California. Burbank.”

Zoey made duck lips as she pondered the question. “Yeah, of course I do. I grew up here. But…you always kinda resent where you’re from too, you know? It’s not all good feelings. Everything here made me who I am.”

Zoey leaned her head on Rumi’s shoulder. “Thank you for teaching me to accept that, Rumi.”

Rumi smiled, laying her free hand on Zoey’s thigh. “You did it yourself, Zoey,” she replied. “I’m proud of you. Proud of us .”

Rumi felt a hum of his warmth flow through her. It felt involuntary, even considering that it was coming from an entirely different soul . 

For a minute, she and Zoey were wordless, finishing their ice cream as the sounds of peacetime surrounded them. 

“Bobby sent me the setlist for the comeback concert,” Zoey said. “What did you think of it?”

Rumi nodded. “Good,” she replied. “It makes sense to finish with Golden, then Takedown, then What It Sounds Like. It’s…thematic.”

Zoey nodded. “Yeah, yeah.” She lifted her head off Rumi’s shoulder. “Did you…think about where to put Free?”

Rumi shrugged. “We need to take care of the logistics first. It’s been… tough to publish a single with Jinu. He doesn’t really have a label or legal representative.”

Zoey blinked. “But that’s impossible. How did they get their faces on billboards? And how did they have merch? They had social media! How did they get their faces on the subway ?! Doesn’t the freakin’ government have to approve that or something?”

Rumi chuckled and waggled her fingers in the air. “Demon magic , I guess.” She shrugged again. “I really don’t know.”

“Well, what do we do?” Zoey asked.

Rumi smiled mischievously. “Well, I asked Celine about it, aaaaand…”

Zoey grabbed her arm, shaking her. “What? What? What?”

“I bought the Saja Boys.”

Zoey blinked, her hands slipping off of Rumi’s bicep. “You what ?”

“I bought them. All the rights. They’re ours.”

Zoey’s jaw slacked. “How is that even possible?” 

“Well, they never really existed in the first place. Like, no trademarks or anything. So, Celine drafted it all up. We made a shadow label and everything to make it look good. It’s being processed as we speak.”

Zoey’s eyes were close to falling straight out of their sockets. “That’s…that’s…”

“Amazing, right?”

Zoey blinked. “I was gonna say cold ,” she said. “But also? Hilarious! It’s like rubbing salt in the wound for the Saja Boys!”

Rumi smiled, far too proud of the practicality of her pettiness. “I know.” She looked down at her chest. “What do you think of that, Jinu?”

There was nothing. She’d been trying to get a rise out of him ever since the deal was made, but he’d been strangely absent from the process.

“Ooh, what’s he saying?” Zoey asked, inching her face close to Rumi’s heart. 

“Nothing,” Rumi shrugged. “He’s been pretty quiet about the whole thing.”

“He must be pouting ,” Zoey cackled. “Oh, well. It’s all going towards a good cause, anyway.” She leaned back in to address Rumi’s heart. “You hear that, Jinu, you rascal?! Rumi’s working really hard over here because she lo-!”

Rumi blushed and smacked her hand over Zoey’s mouth, returning her to an upright position instead of hunched over, yelling at her friend’s chest. In public.

“Thanks, Zoey,” she breathed. “But I think he gets the message.”

Zoey brightened. “Really? About…you know…?” She pinched her fingers together, pecking her hands at each other. Rumi sighed, feeling more heat rising to her face.

“It’s…complicated,” she admitted. “We don’t really get to talk much. At least, not with words. Most of the time we just… feel each other.”

Zoey put her hands to her mouth, eyes sparkling. “Oh my gosh…Rumi, do you ever think about the fact that you guys are literally soulmates?”

She felt Jinu fluster before she did. She looked at Zoey, unsure of her expression but knowing that her face was a deep shade of red. 

“I…uh…”

Zoey sighed deeply before a coherent answer could form. “That is sooo romantic. Once Jinu comes back, you guys are gonna be all like-” she wrapped her arms around herself, wriggled them up and down. “Mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah-”

“Zoey!” Rumi hissed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement from Jinu. “Stop! It’s not like that!”

Zoey paused mid-kissy-noise. “What? Really?”

Rumi didn’t know if her skull was designed to hold so much pressure. “I mean, no, not exactly. It’s…complicated.”

Zoey dropped her jokes, now wearing an expression of concern. Rumi sighed.

“With Jinu and I…” she said. “It’s different from what everyone else calls love or romance or whatever, you know? We just...” She blushed, looking at her shoes. “We just feel each other; understand each other. We’re…the same. I don’t really know how else to describe it.”

Something blossomed out from Jinu: agreement.

“...Soulmates?” Zoey said sheepishly. Rumi smiled. 

“I don’t know,” she replied. “There’s an understanding, I guess. And gratitude.” She looked down at the pale lightning bolts running down her arms. “He’s the reason I don’t have to hide anymore. And…I don’t want him to have to hide either. I don’t want him to be alone. I want him to be free . With me .”

Jinu pulsed with something fierce. Again, it felt almost involuntary, even for an entirely different soul housed in her heart. Zoey placed her hand on Rumi’s. Rumi laid her head on her friend’s shoulder. 

“That must be love,” Zoey whispered. Rumi smiled sadly.

“Maybe,” she replied.

Maybe.

Chapter Text

As tiring as the twelve-hour flight back to Korea was, Rumi could at least appreciate the fact that it was twelve hours of silence . There were (usually) no demons, no crowds, and (ever since she’d forced Mira and Zoey to implement it for mental health purposes) no internet on the jet except for cell-service. It was their twelve-hour retreat from reality before and after making the grueling touring and media rounds across the pond. 

Usually when she deplaned, there was the inevitable digital whiplash of going back to the internet after a half-day hiatus. Coming back from the U.S., the buzz would usually be about whatever shows or media HUNTR/X had done.

Scheduling the drop of “Free” for when she was in the air was, in her mind, the best option for the release. Had there been a shred of Wi-Fi, she would be too emotional and erratic to stay off her phone, desperately tracking how the song was performing. Twelve hours on a private jet with nothing but much-needed sleep and Zoey to occupy her seemed to be the way to go. 

That meant that, when she landed back home, she could swear her phone felt physically heavier from the library of notifications that awaited her. She had been tagged, messaged, and mentioned like never before. Not only was this her first endeavor as a solo artist, but it was with Jinu of all people. 

The reality of their relationship was complicated enough. But on the internet? It was an entirely different beast. Industry rivals, alleged behind-the-scenes power couple, social media’s biggest thirst magnets, and, thanks to Zoey’s recent media appearances, the collaborative minds behind the year’s most ambitious performance at the Idol Awards. 

And that was just the home page of Idol News Update .

People were going feral for “Free”; dissecting lyrics, making edits, arguing over whether this absolutely confirmed RuJinu was real, and all other types of activities that a fandom could get up to over the course of twelve short hours following a release. 

All Rumi cared about was the fact that they were listening . “Free” had easily topped Korean charts and was climbing further up global charts by the minute. The song, the media build-up, the speculation, the meta-narrative; it was all too good to be true. It was designed to be the duet of the year.

It was funny, then, how simple it was at its core: two people being vulnerable with each other. Two magnets doing what magnets do. Something inevitable; irreversible. Simple physics. Or chemistry. Or poetry. Or whatever law of the universe that decided they were meant for each other that night.

Just that night.

Rumi sighed, leaning her head against the window of the car rushing them home through the dreary rain. The chill of the glass wrapped around her forehead. 

He’d been quieter since they’d begun to reflect on their relationship more deeply. Rumi feared that invoking “love” might have put him off, but it was clear from the various warmths emanating from him in those moments that he was just as contemplative about it as her. 

He, too, knew that what they had was love. After all, you don’t sacrifice yourself for someone you don’t love. It just wasn’t totally clear what that “love” was.

The fact that they couldn’t have a proper conversation about it wasn’t helping. Rumi would speak into the air, feel a wave of vague emotion flow through her, rinse and repeat. Her dreams weren’t very reliable either. One day they could talk, the next they couldn’t, and either way it was never for very long.

When she finally collapsed on the couch, she needed to talk about it with someone . Luckily, Zoey was all ears, and Mira had returned from filming her movie just hours before they’d arrived. It was the first time they were all together in nearly two months. 

Dinner was fun that night. Catching up with Mira and hearing Zoey recount her time in Los Angeles felt healing to Rumi. There was finally a chance to not be conscious of herself. That never happened.

Mira had, unfortunately, not had the best experience on the set of Busan 7 . The starring role she’d been promised was actually killed off early in the film to establish the threat level of the main villain. Mira didn’t mind a smaller role, but this had apparently been a fourth-quarter script revision due to the original actress dropping out of the film very late in pre-production. This explained Mira’s alarmingly short window from casting to filming, and her character, originally one of the pillars of the film, was drastically reduced due to her inexperience and limited prep time. Along with a few other last-minute curveballs, the plot was ultimately altered into a cacophony of clichés and deus ex machina.

Rumi and Zoey winced. Mira was a giving performer, but a stickler for creative vision. On top of that, she was not okay with being a leaf in the wind of someone else’s poor planning, especially when they would be getting a huge box office boost off her name. By the time she came home, a handsome check and personal apology from the director was waiting for her. Bobby had apologized profusely for not examining the details of the production more closely, but Mira gave him a pass due to the whirlwind of work he’d had in the wake of the Idol Awards.

“It’s whatever, I guess,” she shrugged. “I asked Bobby to schedule something important the day of the premiere, so that’s the last I’ll have to deal with that hot mess.”

They laughed and talked on into the night. Zoey would give bubbly little anecdotes about her family while Mira continued to dig on Busan 7 . Rumi was content with listening and savoring her food, but the conversation inevitably shifted to how she’d been spending her hiatus.

“There’s not much to tell,” she sighed. “Jinu and I can’t really talk …the closest we get is when he shows up in my dreams.”

Zoey fought to contain a squeal while Mira just blinked.

“I just wanna focus on the comeback concert,” Rumi said, setting down her spoon. “It’ll be closure…one way or the other.”

Zoey reached behind her, producing one of her notebooks.

“Well,” she said. “The show’s in a month, so…” She flipped the book open, revealing scores of notes, sketches, and onomatopoeia. “I had some ideas.”

Rumi smiled. Mira clapped her hands together and stood.

“Alright,” she declared. “It was a good pseudo-hiatus.”

.....

“So, a full string section for What It Sounds Like and Free ?”

“YES. Can you imagine how bright the honmoon will be when the orchestra comes in for the first chorus?!”

“Ooh, what about an electric guitar?”

“Yes, yes, YES. Write that down, write that down!”

“Wait, if we’re only using a string section for two songs at the end, when do we shuffle in the players?”

“We can take a little intermission after Takedown . Talk to the fans, check on the crowd, maybe do something thematic for the transition into What It Sounds Like ? That could buy a few minutes.”

“Nice, nice…would there be time for a costume change for Rumi?”

“What? Why do I need a costume change?”

“I’m thinking…a long white dress. We do blue and purple lighting across the stage-”

“Long white dress?! That’d be like-”

“It’d be beautiful , Rumi!”

“And appropriate. It doesn’t make sense to do your big love ballad and stay in the same outfit you sung Takedown in.”

“...I guess so…”

“Well then…I guess the plan is for Jinu to show up somewhere during the song?”

Rumi stopped cold, glancing over at Mira and Zoey on the couch from where she was pacing the living room. 

“Um…” Zoey mumbled. 

“We don’t know,” Mira said plainly. “If Jinu’s embedded in the honmoon like we think he is, then the surge of power that comes from Free will have to be it. From the looks of the charts, it seems like it’s charging up pretty well.”

“So, it’ll…like…shoot him out?” Zoey mused. “Then, what, is he gonna rise out of the ground? Or fall out of the sky? Or just, poof into existence somewhere? Or…come out of Rumi?”

Mira and Zoey looked at Rumi, who gripped the hem of her sweatshirt and blushed.

“H-how should I know?” she exclaimed. “I guess I was hoping he would just…appear.”

Zoey nodded, scribbling in her sketchbook. “Hoped…he would just…appear,” she repeated under her breath, pen scratching the thick paper.

“Don’t write that down!”

“But it’s…a research log?”

Rumi sighed and shuffled over to sit between Mira and Zoey. A pause fell over the room.

“Are you alright, Rumi?” Mira asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. Rumi nodded.

“Yeah,” she said, actively fighting her instincts to cover up. “It’s just…he’s been quiet.”

Mira grabbed Rumi’s other shoulder, using both hands to turn her so they were facing each other. Mira locked her eyes onto where Rumi’s heart was.

“Hey. Jinu,” she growled. “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping Rumi company in there?”

Rumi practically melted from embarrassment. “Mira!” she whisper-yelled, pressing her hands against Mira’s shoulders in an effort to separate them. “What are you saying?!”

Zoey giggled, poking at Mira over Rumi’s shoulder. “That’s not how it works, Mira,” Zoey said. “At least, I don’t think it is.”

“Rumi, how does it work? Can this joker hear me right now?”

“Yes, he can! Now get off me!”

Rumi fell silent, making Mira loosen her grip. 

“Rumi?” Mira asked softly. “What’s wrong? I’m sorry if I-”

“No, no, it’s okay, Mira,” Rumi insisted. “It’s just…he’s still so quiet .”

Zoey’s eyes widened. “Wait, does that mean his soul left your soul? Did you get soul-dumped? Does that mean he’s walking around somewhere right now?!”

Rumi sighed. “No, Zoey, he’s still there, just…quiet.”

Mira scowled. “That jerk,” she muttered. “What’s the big idea? And when you’re working so hard to bring him back.”

Rumi smiled. “He knows that, Mira. It’s just…we’re both nervous of what will happen. No matter how this goes, it’s going to be scary.”

Mira blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I…might have told him I love him.”

She felt a sharp flash of his embarrassment and joy shoot through her, blending with her own as her friends’ jaws dropped.

“YOU WHAT?!”

Rumi winced as her friends’ simultaneous screech clawed her eardrums. After years on stage and in the studio with them, she’d been totally unaware they could hit high notes like that.

“Was this before or after we hung out in California?!”

“Was this before or after we recorded Free ?!”

“It was in a dream!” Rumi yelled. The room hit a tense calm as her voice rang out. “It was in a dream, when we could talk. We said love , but…neither of us really knows what that means.”

She curled her legs up to hug her knees and continued.

“We haven’t known each other that long,” she mumbled. “But we went through so much together. So, this-” She waved her hands in the air, struggling to capture what she felt. “- must be love, or whatever. And I just don’t think we’re ready for that. I mean, most of the time we can’t even talk about it.”

She felt two hands rubbing her back as the frustration began to boil. 

“I’m sorry, Rumi,” Mira said. “I know this is a lot for you.”

“But we’re gonna do everything we can to help,” Zoey chimed. “We’re gonna make that arena so hot that Free will be like…like…like a perfect analogy!”

Rumi snorted and felt Jinu burst with amusement. She wrapped her arms around her friends.

“Thank you, guys,” she said. “Let’s make this the best comeback ever. Not just for me, or Jinu, but for you, too. We deserve this.”

“Hey, happy fans-”

“-happy honmoon-”

“-happy us .”

Chapter Text

After defeating Gwi-Ma, she’d questioned if she ever really loved this life. 

The spotlight, the hustle, the glamor, the rush that coursed through her skin as she felt the walls of her dressing room tremble from the vibrations of the bass and the roar of the fans. 

The only reason she was here was because this was her life. She was born to do this, and not because she loved it. She needed to. It was not a passion; it was a mission. A necessity. To turn the honmoon golden, to protect people, and to honor the past.

To be rid of the past; rid of the scars.

Now, standing in the dressing room of the same stadium where she’d completed the mission, she felt familiar goosebumps rise, no longer compressed by sleeves meant to hide who she was. It was electric , and she realized with great relief that she really did love it. She really wanted to do this, impromptu resurrection ritual or not. 

For once, the crowd outside wasn’t a battery for an ancient barrier against the demon realm, they were people. And these people weren’t screaming and chanting because it was a mission, or a necessity. They were making a stadium shake because HUNTR/X was something they loved. Something that made them feel something. 

And now she could accept that that made her feel something.

But she didn’t just feel what she felt. Now he was a part of her, and there was something different coming from him.

I wish I could’ve done what you do: create joy and unity. All I ever did was tarnish that.

She took a deep breath and gave a hard stare in the mirror in front of her.

“Are you gonna be like this all night?” she asked. “Or are you gonna help me get you out of my head so I can knock some sense into you?”

If Jinu had a face, he would be smirking. She smiled and placed a hand over heart.

“It’ll be over soon,” Rumi whispered. “Promise me that no matter what happens…that you can be free.”

I’ll try. For you.

“For yourself, dummy.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder. When she looked over, Mira was standing there, dressed in a matching white and gold stage outfit. For a moment, Mira said nothing, but settled her dagger-sharp gaze onto the mirror.

“Jinu,” she announced, startling Rumi. “You have a lot of explaining to do, so…you better not screw this up. I know you know what this means to Rumi…and you, I guess, so…good luck out there, or something.”

Mira cleared her throat, shooting her gaze to the floor to hide the tint of pink that dusted her cheeks. Rumi moved her hand from her heart to Mira’s fingers lacing over her shoulder, smiling up at her friend.

Zoey walked up, taking Rumi’s other hand. “Yeah, Jinu!” she said. “I wanna hear this duet live, so make sure you show up when Rumi needs you!”

Rumi squeezed both of her friends’ hands in her own, looking over the three of them in the mirror.

“We do this together,” Rumi said firmly. “Like we always have.”

There was a knock on the door. “HUNTR/X! You’re on in five!”

Rumi let go of her friends and stood to approach the exit. 

“Let’s go!” she declared. Mira and Zoey nodded and followed her out of the dressing room.

“Watch and learn, pretty boy,” Mira muttered.

.....

Five years of dominating the industry, and the one thing she could never get used to was the noise. Not the “noise” from being surrounded by paparazzi, or the blitz of social media notifications, or the recording studio, or award shows, or even just living in the head of an idol.

No, this was just noise . 

With each perfectly placed piece of footwork, her legs felt like they were falling asleep from how the stage was buzzing under her soles. 

With every perfect note she hit, she had to fight to keep her voice even; the vibrations from the floor would travel up to her scalp.

Hearing the synchronization of her singing, the booming instrumental over the stadium’s sound system, and tens of thousands of people chanting her lyrics. 

Feeling her exhilaration hold hands with Jinu’s anticipation. 

Everything added up to make it feel like the loudest place in the world was the inside of her head. 

She had trouble processing the brief grins that Zoey and Mira shot her; equal parts encouragement and check-ups as they proceeded through the set. When she slipped off stage to get a drink of water and change into her stage outfit for “Free,” she realized she wasn’t nearly as exhausted or sweaty as usual.

Perks of two souls in one body , she mused as she slipped into her dressing room. A squad of makeup artists and outfit coordinators swarmed her as she heard Zoey’s voice bleed through the walls from the stage.

“HOW ARE WE FEELING, EVERYONE?!” 

The crowd erupted. Rumi imagined Zoey bouncing around stage as Mira stood cool, soaking in the energy of the fans and admiring the glittering honeymoon.

“We want to thank everyone for coming out tonight,” she heard Mira say. “But there’s one more thing we’d like to share with you all.”

Rumi felt the back of her dress being zipped up as she nearly choked on a nervous breath. She patted her hands over the fabric, white like snow and smooth with a synthetic fiber blend.

“They’re stalling for thirty more seconds, Rumi!” she heard Bobby call. She nodded to no one and placed a hand over her heart as she heard Mira’s cool, even tone continue to address the stadium. 

Jinu was quiet. 

Psyching himself up? No, not his style. Realizing something she didn’t? No, that was impossible, probably. Choking?

You’d better not be , she thought, turning around to go back out on stage.

Zoey and Mira bounded backstage just as the instrumental began. The crowd roared. They’d been screaming and jumping and chanting all night, but something in the first notes of “Free” sent them into a whole different gear. The screams quieted in anticipation for Rumi. She only had time to shoot a glance at Zoey and Mira before she stepped out onto the stage, drowned in blue and purple light.

Then she blacked out.

.....

Oddly enough, when she came to, she was beginning the chorus, drowning under a spotlight as the stadium blossomed from the instrumental with a full orchestra.

Why does it feel right, every time I let you in?

Why does it feel like I could tell you anything?

She had a millisecond to be in shock before her training kicked in, and she subtly swept her eyes over the crowd. No one seemed weirded out; as if a solid forty seconds hadn’t just blipped away from their lives. She took a quick breath.

All the secrets that keep me in chains and

All the damage that might make me dangerous

She felt lighter. Uncomfortably lighter.

You got a dark side, guess you’re not the only one

What if we both tried fighting what we’re running from?

We can’t fix it if we never face it

What if we find a way to escape it?

There was no time to feel what Jinu felt. She took another quick breath.

We could be

Free~ee~ee

Free~ee~ee

Please, Jinu, she thought. A hot tear scratched the side of her face. She could care less if the jumbotron picked it up.

We can’t fix it if we never face it

Let the past be the past til it’s weightless

An eternity passed in the split second between her chorus and his verse. Her heart dropped as she heard it over the speakers.

Ohhh, time goes by, and I lose perspective

Yeah hope only hurts, so I just forget it

It was the recording. From the demo.

What?

The crowd roared at Jinu’s verse as she whipped around, frantically searching the stage. He wasn’t there.

But you’re breaking through all the dark in me when I thought that nobody could

And you’re waking up all these parts of me that I thought were buried for good

It was so quiet. 

The orchestra was playing, the crowd was singing along, and Jinu’s voice was blaring over the speakers, but it was so quiet.

He wasn’t here. It didn’t feel like he was anywhere .

Between imposter and this monster I’ve been stuck inside my head

Ain’t no choice when all these voices keep me pointing towards no end

She wandered to the other side of the stage, looking around as the lights shimmered over the stage in cool tones. Fans murmured excitedly as she looked backstage, where Zoey and Mira were looking on.

Both looked hopeful before meeting Rumi’s eyes. Something about the look on her face made their expressions drop. Zoey’s pursed lips parted, and Mira’s concentrated scowl loosened into a blank stare. 

No, nothing, her face must have said.

It’s just easy when I’m with you

No one sees me the way you do

She closed her eyes, remembering how deep his eyes were as their hands interlaced that night. She placed her hand over her heart, one last chance to feel him.

It was quiet, and the tears were falling.

I don’t trust it but I want to—

This was it. 

I keep coming back to—

She allowed herself one last tremor of tears before inhaling, remembering Zoey’s words.

Do this for love. Not because you have to change the world, or change what happened, but because you love him.

Why does it feel right every time I let you in?

Why does it feel like I can tell you anything?

Her voice rang out, but the harmony felt empty with a recording. The fans looked confused, still waiting for Jinu to come out. 

We can’t fix it if we never face it

What if we find a way to escape it?

His face, shadowed and beautiful against the rage of Gwi-Ma’s fire, appeared in her mind. A sob rose from her chest, but she wouldn’t let it break their song.

We could be

Free~ee~ee

Free~ee~ee

Something buzzed inside of her. She clutched the fabric over her heart, not caring that the wrinkles would stay when she uncurled her fingers. Maybe it was a heart attack. It might as well have been. She didn’t care. 

This was all she could do for her love. And it was all he could have done for his.

We can’t fix it if we never face it

Let the past be the past til it’s weightless

The lights glowed bright around her, engulfing her form in sparkling pixie dust. She filled her chest with air to launch into the finale.

Oh~oh~oh!

So~take~my~hand~it’s o~pen~!

The lights felt really warm around her. They began to swirl and glow brighter. The crowd oooed as she shut her eyes closed, squeezing out tears. 

“Free~ee~ee

  Free~ee~ee”

It was a whisper in her ear, completely distinct from the recording that blared out of the stadium speakers.

What~if~we~heal~what’s bro~ken~?

The warmth around her began to touch down, and there were arms wrapping around her stomach. 

The lights swirled faster. The fans were losing it.

“Free~ee~ee

  Free~ee~ee”

It was quiet, but not empty. 

There was a firm, solid warmth down the length of her back, engulfing her braid. She felt his chin nuzzle against her temple. She reached a hand to her stomach, where she met his strong, solid forearms. She stifled a sob. The lights stopped swirling, exploding into a cloud of pixie dust around them as they finished the song.

I tried to hide, but something broke

I couldn’t sing, but you give me hope

She heard him take a breath in her ear.

We can’t fix it if we never face it

Let the past be the past til it’s weightless

The strings faded, the instrumental stopped, and the crowd erupted. She dropped her mic, letting it thunk against the ground to wrap both hands around his, resting on her stomach. She could barely hear the roar of the stadium as she dared to turn around.

If she had to guess the number of times she’d imagined this moment over the past three months, it would be a four-digit number. But there was no quantification of any memories or feelings or dreams or wild fantasies that could have prepared her to finally lay eyes upon him, after all this time.

He was beautiful. Exactly the same as that night on the rooftop.

He gently gripped her sides as she placed her hands on his chest. She felt tears cascading down her cheeks as she saw his eyes well up. He smiled.

“Rumi…” he breathed. She could barely hear him over the crowd as he leaned in closer.

The curtain fell over the stage, engulfing them in the dark. The roar of the crowd muffled only slightly. Glancing over Jinu’s shoulder, she saw Zoey, Mira, and Bobby fighting to keep the crew backstage. There were cameras flashing.

She gripped the fabric over his chest as their foreheads touched. She let a sob ring out.

“Jinu…” she cried. She felt his thumb trace over her tears.

“Rumi…” he whispered desperately, cupping her cheek and leaning in closer. She opened her hands to feel the warmth of his chest. 

His heartbeat filled her right palm. And it reminded her of something. Something she swore she’d do when he came back and had imagined doing thousands of times.

Oh yeah.

She shoved him. Hard .

Jinu stumbled back several steps; eyes filled with bewilderment.

“You stupid JERK !!!” she yelled. 

Jinu’s eyes filled with terror, but he’d barely set his feet when she crashed back into him, burying her face in his chest and squeezing her arms so hard around him he felt his ribs might crack. An involuntary breath was pushed out of his lungs.

She sobbed hard, every feeling she’d felt of every hour of every day that he’d been gone flooding back. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pressing his mouth into her hair. 

“You stupid jerk…” she repeated, muffled into his pec. He felt his tears fall, melting into her long, lilac braid. They swayed against each other’s weight.

“I’m sorry, Rumi,” he breathed. “I’m back. I came back to you. You did it.”

“ We did it,” she insisted. She broke away, staying in his arms and taking his face in her hands. 

They smiled at each other, letting out a happy sob as she threw her arms around his neck, renewing their embrace. 

“We’re free,” he whispered in her ear. “We’re free , Rumi.”

She nodded, hiccupping out another sob. 

“Oh, Jinu,” she sobbed, smiling against the warmth of his neck. 

We’re free.

Chapter Text

Now that Jinu had a body again, the basic functions of his existence had to be taken care of. As soon as they made it back to the dressing room, Zoey drafted a long to-do list. 

“Identification, birth certificate, cell phone, subway card, proof of citizenship, bank account, passport, vaccinations, blood test…”

She continued to rattle on as Mira smirked and turned to Jinu, who sat on the dressing room’s couch next to Rumi. 

“You’ll need somewhere to stay until we can get you sorted out,” Mira said, crossing her arms. “You can crash at our place tonight.”

Jinu smiled. “Thank y—"

“ Just. Tonight. ” Mira reaffirmed. “And only because it’s too late to book a hotel room.” She ping-ponged her steely stare between Jinu and Rumi. “I know you two have a lot to talk about, but I’m not gonna have any funny business in our house.”

Rumi’s face steamed. “Mira!” she exclaimed. “What are you talking about?!”

Mira narrowed her gaze, pointing it to the sliver of space between Rumi and Jinu. They looked down to see their fingers were still intertwined, causing them to shoot their hands to their respective laps.

“Oh, I, uh—"

“I-I didn’t mean to—"

Both of them looked up at Mira, who was still shifting her stony glare between them like a pendulum.

“Yeah,” she muttered. “That’s what I thought. Even though you guys were literal soulmates for the past three months, let’s be reasonable with the PDA.” Rumi swore she could see a hint of pink in Mira’s cheeks as she sauntered away to change out of her stage gear. Zoey watched as Mira made her way to the changing room, then peered over at Rumi and Jinu.

“That’s just her way of saying congratulations,” she chuckled. “Rumi knows, but you’ll have to get used to it, Jinu.” 

Jinu nodded slowly, and watched as Zoey moonwalked to the changing room, shooting Rumi two thumbs up. Jinu leaned forward and propped his forearms on his knees, letting out a deep exhale before glancing at Rumi, who scooted closer to him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. The feeling of him, finally solid, sent a shiver from her palm to her toes.

Jinu nodded. “Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “I’m just… really tired. And… hungry , I think.” He placed a hand on his stomach, looking a bit queasy. “I don’t think I’ve eaten in…I don’t even know how long. Feels weird.”

Rumi looked over his forearms and fingers. The patterns were gone. Not like hers, where the ghost of them remained. They were just gone . 

“I think it’s because…you’re human again,” she said softly. Jinu turned to her, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” he whispered. Rumi nodded.

“Think about it,” she said. “When you gave me your soul, your body burned away. That must have been the demon part of you. But your soul was still human all this time.” She gestured from his head to his toes. “That’s what came back.”

Jinu stared at the wall, sitting back on the sofa with a thump against the firm leather. Rumi reached out, placing her hand back on his shoulder as he let out a deep breath.

“It’s…quiet,” he muttered, shivering as tears rose to his eyes. “ So quiet.”

Rumi smiled as tears of her own spilled out. She leaned over to wrap her arms around his neck, feeling Jinu instantly fold his arms over her back. For a moment, neither of them spoke. There were only the tremors of their joyful sobs rocking each other.

“I can’t believe this is real,” he whispered, filling her ear with the deep vibrations of his breath. 

“Neither can I,” she shuddered. “It’s you . It’s really you.”

They couldn’t bring themselves to break apart from each other, staying wrapped together until their tears dried and a loud, awkward cough rang out. They leapt apart, looking over to see Mira and Zoey blushing at the sight of them. Rumi sprung off the couch and zipped into the changing room, Zoey squealing that they had “finally gotten to the good part” as Jinu was left a blushing, silent mess on the couch.

…..

Jinu went slack-jawed in awe of the penthouse, unable to believe that someone could live so high in the air. The hunters suddenly felt very self-conscious. They’d never had guests that weren’t Bobby or Celine, leaving them a bit awkward as to what to do.

“Especially cause it’s Rumi’s boyfriend ,” Zoey muttered as they huddled in the kitchen, watching Jinu marvel at the living room. Rumi tensed and flushed bright pink.

“Zoey!” she whisper-screamed. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

“ Yet ,” Mira said, unraveling her damp hair from her towel. “Seriously, you guys need to figure that out.”

“We need to figure out how he can exist first,” Rumi muttered, fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. “Like, legally. And we need to keep it under wraps that freaking Jinu is filing for basic civil documents.”

“Also, when’s the last time he was vaccinated?” Mira asked. “I don’t wanna catch some kinda ancient demon disease.”

“Do we need to teach him, like, modern-day stuff?” Zoey questioned. “Like how to use a smartphone? Or a microwave? Or a toilet?”

“What are you guys talking about?”

The trio jumped to see Jinu leaning over Rumi’s shoulder. 

“How did you sneak up on us like that?!” Mira exclaimed.

“And why are you eavesdropping?” Rumi added gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I thought you were exploring the house?”

Jinu shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of the hoodie Rumi had lent him. “Sorry. I just…got cold.”

Zoey blinked. “Cold?” she repeated. Jinu nodded, his cheeks tinted pink.

Rumi stared, briefly befuddled before her own cheeks went rosy with epiphany. She shuffled over by the couch, leaving Jinu, Mira, and Zoey confused before Jinu walked over to stand next to her.

Zoey squinted, as if narrowing her vision would give her an answer to whatever was going on here. Mira did the same as Rumi walked to the opposite end of the room, pressing her back against the glass wall. A few seconds passed before Jinu followed, stopping just in front of her. Mira’s eyes went wide in realization.

“ Oh ,” she grimaced. “I think I’m gonna hurl.”

Rumi blushed, giving Jinu a light, one-handed shove as he glanced at the floor.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I can’t help it.”

“It’s okay,” Rumi said, bashfully crossing her arms. “I…I feel it too.”

A high-pitched gasp shot out from the other end of the room, making them jump as they looked over to the kitchen, where Zoey was practically vibrating, her eyes sparkling in adoration and envy.

“Don’t tell me…” she squealed. “Your souls miss each other?!” 

Rumi and Jinu blushed and exchanged awkward glances. Mira dragged her hands over her face, willing to go so far as to blemish her skincare to express her exasperation. “ Ugh ,” she groaned. “Who writes this stuff?”

“When does this wear off?” Rumi asked Jinu with a light jab to his shoulder. He shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he replied, rubbing his wounded arm. “But our souls were bonded for three months, so…”

Rumi felt like her cheeks would combust. She glanced over at Mira and Zoey, who were still looking on from the kitchen with mortification and awe, respectively. She looked back up at Jinu. She couldn’t feel his emotions anymore, but his face wore an obvious collage of embarrassment and confusion.

She smiled, wanting to see more of that in the coming days. She reached out and tugged at the sleeve of his hoodie. He lifted his gaze from the floor, locking eyes with her.

“Well,” she said softly. “Just…stay close, okay?”

Jinu gave a stiff nod, melting into a smile. They stared into each other’s eyes, where the flickering city lights lit a mosaic in their irises. 

Mira clapped her hands three times, gathering everyone’s attention.

“Alright!” she declared. “It’s late, we’re hungry, and we’re celebrating. I’m making pot ramyeon.”

Zoey clapped rapidly. “Ooh, yes! Put eggs in it! And sausages! And rice cakes! And green onions!”

At the mention of food, Jinu flicked his attention to the kitchen, placing a hand over his empty stomach. Rumi smiled and took his hand, feeling him relax against her grip.

“C’mon,” she said. “Let’s take care of that.”

…..

To Rumi’s delight, the night was proceeding with generally good vibes. 

Mira stood at the stove, unloading ingredients into a wide pot as a savory aroma filled the room. Meanwhile, Zoey and Rumi dumped various snacks and sweets onto the table for Jinu to try.

“You’ll ruin his appetite,” Mira chided as she stood over their bubbling dinner. 

“No way,” Jinu replied as his hands moved between various crinkly bags. “My appetite’s been building for four hundred years.”

“And the first thing you eat is junk food? Man, what does that say about our time?”

“I think it says a lot more about you guys,” Jinu remarked, picking up an assortment of chips. “Your kitchen has a lot of these bags and packages but no vegetables. How often do you eat proper meals?”

A guilty silence fell over the kitchen as Mira flicked the stove off.

“Alright, alright,” she said, bringing the pot over with her paw-shaped oven mitts. “Zoey, Rumi, set the table.”

Bowls and plates were set out as Mira divvied out portions. She gave noodles with soup to her, Jinu, and Rumi, and noodles on a plate for Zoey.

“It dries them out a bit, but the noodles cool faster this way,” she explained, carefully swishing her food around to air it out. 

Mira rolled her eyes. “You eat like a little kid,” she smirked. 

“I do not !” Zoey protested. “Hey, where’s the pickled radish? We need something sweet with this.”

Jinu ate quietly, savoring his food with slow bites. Rumi looked over as perspiration accumulated on his nose. 

“What do you think, Jinu?” she asked. He looked up from his bowl. 

“It’s…amazing,” he said. “And you said that this is a budget food?”

Mira slurped her noodles loudly. “Well, not the brands we buy,” she said casually. “And not with all the extra stuff in it, but yeah. It’s a budget food.”

Jinu looked down at his bowl, picking out a sausage to eat. “Times have changed,” he muttered as he chewed. 

“You sound like an old man,” Zoey giggled. Rumi smiled, nudging Jinu.

“See?” she said. “I told you.” Jinu sighed, focusing back on his food. Rumi giggled again as Mira looked on. Zoey glanced at Mira, who set her chopsticks down and cleared her throat. Jinu and Rumi looked up. 

“Uh…look, Jinu,” Mira started. “I…or we …owe you a thank you .”

Jinu set his chopsticks down, placing his hands on his thighs. “What are you talking about?” he said. Mira fidgeted, prompting Zoey to pick up.

“Well,” she said. “We were enemies, but you ended up helping Rumi when we couldn’t…in more ways than one.”

Jinu tensed as Rumi’s eyes shimmered. Mira spoke up again.

“Thanks to you, Gwi-Ma was defeated,” she said. “You did a lot of bad stuff, but…you helped us save the world. The honmoon is stronger than ever, and we got to accomplish our mission because of your sacrifice.” 

Mira sniffed, and everyone looked in shock as her eyes went glassy.

“I may not be the right person to say this, but-” she dipped her head. “On behalf of everyone who came before us, thank you .”

Jinu felt his chest go tight, and Rumi’s fingers traced the bones of his hand under the table.

“Um…I should be thanking you ,” he breathed. “I…I never did a single good thing before I met Rumi. And even then, I still did unforgivable things…”

He felt Rumi take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze which he returned.

“What I did could have ruined everything,” he continued. “So, thank you for helping her. And thank you for welcoming me into your home after everything I’ve done. I don’t deserve your kindness.”

He bowed his head, leaving Mira feeling awkward and Zoey trying to laugh it off.

“Oh, c’mon, Jinu!” Zoey said. “There’s no need for that, raise your head!” Jinu complied as Zoey smiled at him.

“I can’t speak for everyone,” she continued. “But in the end, I think you helped us more than you hurt us. And that’s because of what you did for Rumi.” She stuck her hand out, beaming at him. “So, let’s let the past be the past and start over, okay?”

Mira nodded in approval. Jinu smiled softly, looking over at Rumi. She looked at him with so much love he wanted to cry and nearly did. He turned back to Zoey and shook her hand over their food.

“Okay,” he said. “I won’t let you down.”

…..

After a brief stint of introducing Jinu to variety shows (being on one was very different from watching one), Mira and Zoey went to bed, leaving Rumi and Jinu shoulder-to-shoulder on the couch. 

They stared out at the city, their only source of light as they sat in the dark. Rumi curled her legs under her and leaned her shoulder into his, feeling his body shift as he let out a deep, quiet breath. She silently thanked Mira for “forgetting” to enforce her no funny business rule, having gone to bed without making sure that they were separated for the night.

She blushed, grateful for the dark as she imagined what exactly Mira had meant by “funny business.” She glanced up at Jinu, watching as his eyes remained fixed on the city.

“Are you okay?” she whispered, nudging his shoulder through her fatigue. He gave a small shrug through his own exhaustion.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Just…trying to remember the last three months.”

She chewed the inside of her lip. “What do you remember?” she asked. 

“Not much. Feelings. Hearing your voice. Some of your dreams. But it’s all faint. Nothing was super clear until we sang together.”

“Oh,” she said. “Then, um…what about the… stuff we talked about?”

“You mean love?”

She tensed and coughed, floating her shoulder just centimeters away from Jinu’s. “Uh…yeah,” she mumbled. “So…you remember that?”

He nodded, not moving his gaze from the city. She crept her gaze up to his face, where his cheeks tinted pink against the cool lights refracting through the window. Even though he was blushing, his expression was calm and sure, not embarrassed or shy.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked, the resonant edge of his voice scratching a particular itch in her brain.

“Yes,” she replied softly and a bit too quickly. He moved his hand up to scratch the side of his face. They both fixed their eyes on the flickering view before them. He cleared his throat.

“Well…um… yougofirst .”

“What?! Why me?”

“You brought it up first!”

“Okay, but…why does that mean I have to go first?”

“Cause you started it!”

“Don’t be such a kid!”

“I’m four-hundred!”

“Yeah? Well, when we get you your documents you’re being legally demoted to twenty-four!”

Jinu blinked. “Twenty-four? Why so specific?”

Rumi sniffed and pouted. “Well,” she mumbled. “I’m twenty-three, so…I thought it was only fair that you get to be older than me.”

Jinu smirked. “By just one year?”

Rumi huffed. “What, you wanna be older ?”

“I am old, Rumi. But I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

She blushed, flicking her gaze down to her lap as she leaned back into his shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over them.

“So…” he said. “About love …about us. ”

She tensed, mind racing as she cleared her throat and chuckled awkwardly. “Right, well…I’ve been trying to be more honest, after everything, so…” 

A brief pause fell over them, Jinu looking on expectantly as Rumi turned to lock eyes with him and opened her mouth.

“I…I think you’re really hot .”

Jinu’s lips parted in shock as Rumi’s brain shut down. 

“Rumi…um—”

“IswhatIthoughtwhenIfirstsawyou!” she blurted. “Um…that was my first impression of you. And then, well, you know the rest.”

She hugged her knees to her chin, mortified as Jinu cracked a giddy smile. 

“I don’t think I do,” he said, leaning closer to her. “You should tell me the rest .”

It had to be unhealthy for her face to feel this warm. She whipped her gaze to the floor and jammed her elbow into his side.

“W-Whatever!” she yelped. “If…if I can tell you something so embarrassing, then…what was your first impression of me?!”

Jinu took a breath, pursing his lips in contemplation. 

“I thought you were small,” he said matter-of-factly. “Like a little kitten.”

Rumi blinked. “I beg your unbelievable pardon?”

Jinu chuckled. “Well, you were on the ground—”

“Because you knocked me down .”

“—and I thought you looked really small and lost. Your mouth was hanging open like a fish.”

Rumi blushed. “That’s because…” She pressed her body deeper into the plush sofa. “Whatever…” she muttered. 

A comfortable silence fell over them. 

“I thought you were beautiful,” he breathed. She tensed, feeling her whole body tingle as she glanced up at him.

“Wha—”

“I thought you were beautiful,” he repeated, keeping his gaze sailing out the window. “Even when you were sprawled out on the ground and gaping like a fish. Or when you were trying to kill me, or when we were singing together.” He reached over to take her hand, tracing his thumb over her patterns. “You’re beautiful, Rumi.” 

She looked up to see him smiling at her. The corners of her lips curled up. 

“Oh, stop ,” she breathed, slipping out of his grip to press her palms to her cheeks. He chuckled and shifted in his seat so his whole body could face her.

“So, is that enough?” he said. “To define what love is? I mean, if being literal soulmates for three months wasn’t enough?”

Rumi couldn’t stop smiling, giddy like a schoolgirl as she rubbed her arm sheepishly.

“I don’t know, Jinu,” she muttered. “I mean, yeah, we know each other, but…we don’t know much about each other, you know? It feels weird to think that we’re in…that we have this love without knowing anything about each other, right?”

Jinu blinked. “What do you mean?” he asked. “We heal each other's shame, I sacrifice myself, you pull my soul out of the honmoon to bring me back to life, and we don’t know anything about each other?”

Rumi shrugged. “I mean, like…little things, you know?” She leaned her head back, rubbing her thighs to relieve some nervous energy. “I’ve been thinking over these past few months about what we’d do when you came back, and all of it boiled down to not knowing things. Like…what you like to eat. Or what you do in your spare time. Or…if you even think about those things anymore…that stuff matters for…things like this , okay?”

Jinu paused before letting out a short exhale through his nose.

“…I was born in Paju.”

Rumi blinked. “Huh?”

“I was born in Paju,” he repeated a bit louder. “My favorite side dish is stir-fried anchovies and my least favorite is burdock root. I like the spring and I hate the cold. I don’t know what my blood type is, I don’t remember my zodiac, and I have a birthmark on my—"

“Wait, wait, whoa , stop!” she demanded, waving her hands in front of her. “What are you doing ?”

“You wanted to know stuff about me,” he replied nonchalantly. “It’s like you said. We already know each other, so I thought you just wanted trivia.”

“But—"

“Rumi,” he said, lowering his voice. “Don’t you see? Things like what I like to eat or where I'm from aren’t as important as what we feel .”

She gulped, feeling her lips part and her skin tingle as she watched his face flush.

“I…I know that,” she muttered. “It’s just…I don’t know…I don’t know how this is supposed to go! Especially with… us .”

They sighed simultaneously. Jinu plopped back into the sofa, and she joined him there, their faces close. She turned on her side, clearly seeing that he was blushing. He snapped his gaze up and away.

“Do you…wanna date ?” he asked to the ceiling.

“I…I wouldn’t call it dating ,” she replied. “I mean, after everything we’ve been through, calling you my…my boyfriend would be kind of weird. It doesn’t feel right.”

Jinu nodded and tilted his face to her. “Okay…I mean, I wouldn’t mind calling you my girlfriend , but-”

Rumi let out a small, involuntary squeak at “girlfriend,” making Jinu smile. Her face was roasting at this point.

“But I get it,” he continued. “It’s deeper than that, I guess. Too deep.”

Rumi nodded. “Yeah,” she breathed, staring at him in the dark as he sighed softly towards the ceiling.

He was just as handsome in the tired shadows of the night. But also more…human. When she looked closely, there were faint creases at the edge of his eyelids, and the whisper of a stubble was growing along his previously baby-smooth jaw. 

And his eyes. They were still the same vibrant brown, but deeper, somehow. They were tired, and sad, even more so than before. 

That was the first time that he looked old to her; when the demonic youth he’d been granted was stripped away, and four hundred years of suffering concentrated itself into the body of a young man. His eyes gave it away. 

Those eyes turned to her and softened under her gaze. “What are you doing?” he whispered playfully.

“Looking at you,” she replied, grinning giddily at the admission and shifting against the sofa. Ugh , when did she get so lame? Maybe it was just her twentieth hour without sleep. 

As they held each other's gaze, his sad and tired eyes filled with something warm. Rumi thought it was like watching chocolate melt as his chest rose and fell with a deep breath.

“I love you,” he said gently. 

She sat up, the breath in her lungs evacuating as her tear glands stood at attention. 

“What?” was all she could manage as her view went watery. Jinu stayed relaxed against the couch, reaching up to gently wipe her tears away. She raised her hands to grip the fabric over his chest, as if to shake him down, but no words could form on her lips.

“I love you,” he repeated. “I thought we’d already established that?”

“I know,” she half-laughed, half-sobbed. “But I thought we were going to figure that out first.”

“We will. But I need you to know now ,” he breathed, both their eyes now shimmering with tears. “All I know is what I feel.” He cupped her cheek, using his other hand to hold one of hers to his heart. “For four hundred years, all I’ve been able to do is feel , and I’ve never felt anything like you before.”

She raised her free hand to the back of his neck, running her thumb through the edges of his hair. 

“ Jinu ,” she breathed. “...I still can’t believe this is real.”

“Then make sure it is.”

She leaned forward, moving her hand from the back of his neck to brush the hair out of his face, settling her palm on his jaw.

“I love you,” she whispered before placing her lips over his. He pressed back gently, opening his lips to let her come forward. She dove in, shocked at how easy this was. She let him move next, giving her just the slightest bit more pressure as he gracefully laced their lips together.

When they parted, she took his face in both hands. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. Tears were tracing down both their faces.

“ Stay ,” she sobbed. “Stay with me and don’t ever leave again.”

He dove back into her lips, and her hands moved to his hair as she breathed him in. They parted again, and he held her tight, burying his face into her shoulder. 

“I’ll stay,” he said. “As long as you love me, I’ll stay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

.....

Zoey found them the next morning, curled up under a throw blanket as the sun rose over the city. They were out like lights; arms loosely wrapped around each other with Jinu’s head resting on top of Rumi’s. 

It would be trouble if Mira found them like this, Zoey thought. Or maybe not. She seemed to mellow out once they’d managed to clear the air with Jinu. 

Then again, imagining the more-likely alternative was pretty scary.

She whipped her phone out, double checked that it was on silent, and took about a hundred photos of the sleeping couple before tiptoeing back to her room. 

Chapter Text

After an undignified amount of begging from both Rumi and Zoey, Mira relented and let Jinu stay for the week while he sorted out his new existence in the modern world. 

Unfortunately, this did not mean that he got to spend much time with Rumi. Now that HUNTR/X was back, there was media to do, label meetings to sit through, creative sessions for their next album, and many, many questions to answer about the now-legendary finale of the comeback concert.

Luckily, Jinu didn’t have a phone to access the social media he’d made three months ago, so any efforts to reach him fell on empty ears.

Which meant that he didn’t know that he and Rumi had kind of set the world on fire.

“Free” was the biggest song in Korea, and it wasn’t even close. Jinu’s sudden appearance had gone viral, baffling special effects artists around the world. The subsequent tearful embrace with Rumi was sending fans into full-on cardiac arrest, with a rabid portion of the internet declaring victory as their ship had finally sailed and backstage footage continued to leak.

Of course, no official statement had been made yet, but Bobby had reassured Rumi that she could take her time sorting things out with PR.

Bobby didn’t know how real the situation was until he came for a surprise visit to the penthouse. Rumi and Jinu were on the couch; eyes half-closed, fingers laced together, lips centimeters from touching; about to make very good use of their limited alone-time. 

Bobby let out a shriek, causing Rumi to toss Jinu to the ground and bolt upwards, looking over as her manager stared back, eyes wide and jaw unhinged. Jinu groaned from the floor as Rumi began tumbling over her words.

“It’s…um…this isn’t…!” 

“It’s exactly what it looks like.”

Rumi and Bobby turned to see Mira leaning against the far wall, wearing an amused smirk as Zoey crept out from behind her, smiling awkwardly as she waved at Bobby.

“Surprise?” Zoey squeaked. Bobby dragged his hands over his face and sighed.

“Alright, girls. Meeting. Now.”

Everyone sat on the couch, with Bobby placing Rumi at the opposite end from Jinu before frantically pacing the living room. Eventually, Bobby whipped around, pointing a trembling finger at Jinu.

“Why is he here?!” he exclaimed. The girls exchanged nervous glances, unsure of where to begin. A brief, awkward silence fell over the room before Jinu cleared his throat.

“My, uh…house burned down,” he blurted. The girls’ jaws dropped as Bobby blinked at him.

“…What?”

“My house burned down,” Jinu repeated. “The night of the comeback concert. I only got the news after the show, and it was too late to book a hotel room, so…” He gestured stiffly to the girls. “They let me crash here for the night.”

Bobby put his hands on his hips. “Okaaay…” he drawled. “Well, gosh, I’m really sorry about your house, Mr. Jinu…but that was three nights ago.” He narrowed his gaze, leaning his whole body forward so that Jinu had to shrink into the couch. “With all due respect, why are you still here?“

Rumi shot her hand into the air. “I wanted him to stay!”

Bobby’s neck snapped towards Rumi, his jaw dropping along with Zoey’s as Mira struggled to contain her laughter.

“Rumi…” Bobby took a deep breath, holding out his hands to compose himself. “Okay, I can handle this…it’s just the leader of our former biggest rivals cozying up to one of my girls…and she’s into it…no big deal, we had this talk at the comeback concert, Bobby…but this is different, Bobby! I already know that, Bobby!”

Zoey and Mira shot nervous looks at Rumi as she squirmed in her seat, looking down at the floor. 

“I’m…I’m sorry for not telling you, Bobby,” she mumbled. “It was just…” She glanced over at Jinu. “…Complicated. Really complicated. For a while.” 

Bobby stopped pacing, sighed and gave a reassuring nod. “I understand, Rumi.” The girls looked up in surprise. 

“You do?” they asked simultaneously. Bobby nodded.

“Sure I do!” he replied. “I mean, I’m your manager! It’s my job to do what’s best for you, not meddle in your personal lives. And even if it was, I want you to be happy, Rumi.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know how much pressure you’ve been under, and I know how hard you work. The timing’s a bit awkward, what with your comeback and all, but if you want to date, then you deserve to be happy.”

Rumi and Mira bit back sobs as Zoey openly let tears flow down her cheeks.

“Bobby…” Rumi breathed before her manager shot Jinu a glare.

“But you,” he growled, causing Jinu to flinch. “I don’t know you. You rob us at the Idol Awards, disappear for three months, and the next we see you; you’re cozying up to Rumi, on stage, in front of a stadium crowd?!”

Rumi stood, forcing a chuckle as she patted Bobby on the shoulders. 

“Like I said, Bobby,” she said through a forced smile. “Things have been…complicated with him. And not in a bad way!”

Bobby squinted hard at Jinu but ultimately relented.

“If you say so,” he grumbled. “But I still think this situation—” he gestured wildly around the living room, “—is a bit inappropriate! I mean, wouldn’t it make more sense for him to stay with his bandmates?”

Another pause fell over the room. Jinu coughed.

“We’re, uh…not really on speaking terms right now,” he said. “Saja Boys…broke up.”

Rumi and Zoey winced as a devilish smile momentarily flashed across Mira’s face.

“Oh,” Bobby said plainly. “Wow, that’s…juicy. And tragic. But also, cathartic, at least for me.”

“Bobby,” Rumi side-eyed.

“Right, sorry,” her manager said, waving his hands apologetically. “Look, I’ll let this slide for now, but you need to keep it airtight. The two of you are already the biggest rumor mill of all time, but if you get caught living together?” He pulled out his phone, bombarded by the social media craze surrounding RuJinu. “Our social media team might go on strike! Or just straight-up quit!”

Rumi nodded, gently pushing Bobby towards the door. “I’ll get right on that, Bobby, so…why don’t you go take a break for now? I’m sure this has all been a lot for you.”

“Okay, okay, but the only reason I came was to give you a heads up about what’s next with this whole situation.”

Rumi stopped, glancing between Zoey, Mira and Jinu.

“What’s next, Bobby?” Zoey asked. Bobby took a hard swallow.

“It’s Celine,” he said, bouncing his finger between Rumi and Jinu. “She wants to meet you two about your new PR situation. Tomorrow.”

…..

The meeting between Jinu and Celine was inevitable. After all, the record label was the most discrete channel through which to file Jinu as a legal person since, thanks to Rumi, they owned his likeness.

It just wasn’t supposed to happen so soon.

The twenty-four hours after Bobby left were a blur. The panic that engulfed the penthouse was unlike anything Jinu, maybe the oldest conscious being on the planet, had experienced in 400 years. 

Rumi dragged him to a designer store, pacing the floor as he tried on various chic business casual outfits. Jinu had attempted to divert her attention elsewhere by posing, flaunting, and getting into her personal space, but for once, his immaculate good looks weren’t enough to distract her.

Oh, he realized then. This is bad.

The conversation to contextualize their situation wasn’t pretty. Disturbing was the only word he could find to describe the Celine that Rumi told him about, saved only by the fact that they had managed to patch things up after vanquishing Gwi-Ma. He didn’t quite know what to say about it as they rode the elevator up to the penthouse in silence, trying desperately to conceive of the “dogmatic authoritarian turned repentant foster parent” that he was going to face the next day.

Alternatively, he didn’t have time to finish that thought, because when the elevator doors swept open, Zoey and Mira descended, shoving him into the living room for a crash course on the ordeal of being in a room with Celine.

Rumi’s complex, steadily-improving relationship with her extremely messed-up foster mother was one thing, but Zoey and Mira were a different case. To his understanding, Celine was just their instructor and predecessor as a hunter. She didn’t raise either of them under a strict system of shame and silence. From what he knew, Zoey and Mira had only known Celine since their teens.

But oh, what a time that must have been. Rumi expressed cautious optimism, but Zoey and Mira straight-up feared this woman.

Zoey frantically rattled off a list of Celine’s pet peeves, warning him not to chew loudly, bounce his knee, slouch beyond 89 degrees, whistle through his nose when he breathed, or break eye contact when she afforded it to him. Jinu nodded through the lesson and glanced next to him at Mira, hunched over and digging her right palm into her bouncing right knee.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Mira’s neck almost snapped as she whipped her head towards him, eyes wide and wild. 

“Pay attention!” she barked, prompting Jinu to whip his gaze back to the whiteboard they’d rolled out into the living room. “We haven’t even gotten to what you’re bringing as a greeting gift!”

On the car ride to the agency building, Rumi rested her hand on Jinu’s thigh. “Relax,” she told him. “I know we scared you, but nothing bad’s going to happen. She’s…trying.”

That would have given Jinu some confidence if Rumi’s determination hadn’t evaporated the moment she stepped out of the elevator. He followed limply as she trudged down the ice-cold hall to the corner office where their judgement awaited. It was at the door that he fully processed what was about to happen.

The hunters weren’t preparing him for a court room, or the foot of Gwi-Ma’s temple, or a battlefield. Rumi was introducing her (foster) mother to her (kind of) boyfriend. For the first time. As an idol. 

He thought that four centuries of torment under Gwi-Ma would have made him a bit more thick-skinned. But when the door opened, he was just Jinu, the boy from the slums in a designer blazer.

Celine’s desk was carved from a block of marble, housing a perfectly placed assortment of office supplies, file folders, and a sleek black laptop. Her name plate, made of shimmering obsidian, flashed her name in gold engraving. Her walls were covered in platinum record certifications, both from the Sunlight Sisters and HUNTR/X. Behind Celine, a sword that she had probably definitely killed something with sat patiently on a mantle, just within reach for her to whip around, grab, and slice someone open with. 

God, she was intimidating. 

The legends from the demon realm did her no justice. None of them contextualized the fact that he’d be facing her as her foster daughter’s…friend.

Celine leaned back in her seat and gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. “Sit,” she said plainly. Rumi and Jinu complied, easing into the plush leather cushions like they were made of needles. Celine sighed.

“Relax, you two,” she said. “I’m not going to bite.”

Rumi looked up. “Really?”

“No, of course not.” She leaned forward, folding her hands together. “But I have…questions.”

Jinu swallowed. He dared a glance over at Rumi, who was incredibly interested in the edge of the desk in front of her. Celine sighed, leaning to the side to take something out of a drawer. She produced a thin black card and slid it across the desk towards Jinu. 

“But before that, here,” she said. “This is a bank card. I opened an account with your share of Saja Boys’s earnings.”

Jinu blinked. “My share?” he said. “Shouldn’t I be getting everything?”

Rumi went rigid as Celine’s stare turned cold. “Excuse me?” she snapped, sending a shiver up Jinu’s spine. “Considering how much havoc you wreaked, as well as the fact that I formed an entire shadow label to create a profit for you, you should be grateful I gave you anything at all.”

Jinu nodded. “Right,” he said shortly. “That’s…fair.”

Celine huffed. “All things considered, I left you a very generous amount. More than enough to get your life started. Speaking of which…” She reached back into the drawer to pull out a wide envelope, sliding it to Jinu. “Rumi went through the trouble of filling in your new legal information. We had to jump through some hoops, but everything came in this morning.”

Jinu opened the envelope to find a passport, birth certificate, national ID card, and various other documents. Rumi beamed over his shoulder, looking over the package with pride. He smiled and took her hand.

“Thank you,” he said. “Both of you.” Celine gave a short nod. 

“Well then,” Celine said. “Now that that’s been taken care of-” She leaned forward. “You two have some explaining to do about this.”

She gestured to their hands, still laced together. The couple smiled awkwardly as they slowly slid out of each other’s grasp.

“Well,” Rumi started, fiddling with her braid. “We’re…together, I guess.”

Celine raised an eyebrow. “You guess? What does that mean?”

“We’re still figuring it out,” Jinu offered. Celine raised both eyebrows.

“Really?” she said, reaching for her phone. “Well, this certainly looks like you’ve got it figured out.”

Rumi and Jinu leaned in as Celine turned her screen to them, revealing a photo of the two wrapped around each other on the couch, fast asleep in the warm glow of the sunrise.

The temperature of the room rose as they blushed profusely. 

“That-!” Rumi yelped. “W-w-where did you get that?!”

“Zoey,” Celine replied. “She sold you out for tickets to the new sea turtle exhibit at the aquarium.”

Rumi seethed, unsure of whether to focus on her rage or mortification. Jinu took a hard swallow, unsure of what to do. Luckily, he didn’t have to do much of anything as Celine rose from her desk, walking over to the window overlooking the city.

“Well, I’m only teasing,” she admitted. “I don’t have a problem with the two of you being together.”

Rumi blinked, all thought and feeling draining out of her body in shock. “Wha…really?” she asked, dumbfounded. 

Celine shook her head, turning to face them. “Honestly? No, I don’t.”

A brief wave of relief washed over Rumi and Jinu just as Celine sternly crossed her arms, placing them back on high alert.

“But,” she began again. “I know what you’ve done,” she said to Jinu. He winced under the weight of her words. Rumi stood up.

“Celine-”

“It’s okay, Rumi,” Jinu said, standing to face Celine. “I deserve whatever this is.”

Celine nodded. “Yes, you do.” She took a step forward, and Jinu braced for…well, he didn’t know what. 

To his shock, Celine gave a short bow, sending Rumi’s jaw to the floor. Jinu blinked as Celine kept her gaze to the floor.

“Thank you,” she said before raising her head. “For protecting Rumi from Gwi-Ma and saving our world.”

Jinu blinked again before giving an awkward bow.

“Oh, no, please, there’s nothing to thank me for,” he fumbled politely. “Rumi did all the work, really.”

Rumi blushed, socking him lightly in the shoulder. “You literally gave me your soul, dummy.”

“And it’s still yours,” he said instinctively. Rumi blushed, gasping softly as she whipped her gaze between him and Celine. She smacked his shoulder hard, causing him to hiss.

“Don’t say that kind of stuff in front of Celine!” she yelped, smacking him again for good measure. 

Celine smiled as Jinu rubbed his arm in pain. “Well, Rumi, that’s exactly why I’m approving of this. He seems…good for you.”

Rumi gave a short nod. “He is…” she mumbled. Celine turned back to Jinu.

“Your affairs should be in order, but if you need help, call this number,” she said, pulling a business card from her desk. Jinu nodded, taking it with both hands.

“Thank you,” he said. “You’re, um…very kind.”

Celine’s expression turned wistful, and she glanced at Rumi. 

“I’m trying,” Celine admitted. “You helped save the world, so it’s only fair that we help you live in it. And besides, I am technically your boss now, so think of this as a professional relationship.”

Rumi cleared her throat. “So…about you being his boss…what will you do about Saja Boys? Or Jinu?”

Celine crossed her arms in contemplation. “Well, it only makes sense to announce a breakup, considering the other members won’t be coming back.” She looked at Jinu. “In the meantime, you should start thinking about what to do. The contract I made keeps you on our roster as a solo artist until the next Idol Awards, which gives you nine months to think it over.”

Jinu fell silent, staring at the corner of the floor. Rumi and Celine looked at each other before the latter went back behind her desk to sit down.

“We can talk more later, but for now I need you two to release public statements about your relationship,” she declared. “We need to clear the air to turn attention back to HUNTR/X’s comeback. Rumi, you and the girls will proceed as planned. As for Jinu…”

His eyes raised slowly from the floor, still deep in thought.

“Try to relax,” Celine said. “Take your time adjusting back to the human world. I’ll have someone get you a phone and find you a place to live.”

“Actually,” Jinu said. “I already have a place in mind…”

…..

Rumi stared at the house, nestled between the stone walls of the backstreets.

It was their place. Where they’d accepted each other. Where the current number one song in Korea had been written.

She hadn’t been here since that night. She couldn’t. It would’ve been too much.

But now, Jinu, alive and beaming proudly, jangled a ring of keys at the front door.

“This was the hanbok store,” she breathed. She looked over the walls, once lined with mannequins. He nodded, beaming from ear to ear.

“It was,” he replied. “But they moved down the street. Now, it’s Jinu’s house.”

The house itself was old, having survived the colonial era and the war, been converted into the store before the Olympics, and last refurbished at the turn of the millennia. Jinu opened the door for Rumi to step into the building, marveling at the empty space. 

“This must have cost a fortune,” Rumi remarked. Jinu nodded.

“It did, so it’s a good thing I made a fortune.” 

Rumi rolled her eyes as he guided her through the space. The former shop floor had been converted into a living room, where a lone dark leather couch pointed at an empty wall. She made her way into the kitchen, which was empty except for a box of ramyeon packs on the counter. A long hallway from there contained four doors along its length, with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and an exit to the patio, where a garden was nestled between the squared walls made of the surrounding buildings. Two trees climbed up towards the sunlight, and a stone staircase led up to the rooftops, where they’d sung their song together.

“This is…amazing,” she said, turning to Jinu. They took each other’s hands, looking into each other’s eyes as the sun crept through the branches above them.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “It’s just…a little far. From you.”

Rumi giggled. “It’s not that far. And it’s a quieter neighborhood, so you should have an easier time not getting recognized.”

Jinu hummed in agreement. They stood there, swaying in each other’s hands, listening to a bird warbling above them as the buzz of cicadas rose.

“Well,” he said. “Everything’s been taken care of, so…” Rumi felt his fingers loosen in hers as his voice dropped, almost to a whisper. “What now?”

Rumi blushed, tightening her grip on him and swinging their hands from side to side. 

“We can just…live, I guess,” she replied. She raised one of her hands to his face, taming some hair out of his eyes. He reached up to hold her to his cheek.

“You should extend that hiatus,” he whispered. She felt her face heat up even more and started giggling like Zoey.

“No way,” she said. “We need to start working on our new album. And besides, I missed going to work.” 

A peaceful pause fell over them. At some point, they wandered onto the patio and sat down on the smooth wood. 

“You know,” she said. “Maybe you could work with us.”

He turned to her, genuinely surprised as she leaned her shoulder into his.

“You’re a great musician,” she continued. “And…it’d be a shame if you let four hundred years of practice go to waste. You wouldn’t have to perform, either. You could produce for us, or something like that. Maybe one day you could start a solo career, if you wanted.”

He clenched his jaw in contemplation, looking over the garden as he hummed through his thoughts.

“It’s tempting,” he eventually said. “But I’d rather not. At least, not right now.”

Rumi frowned. “How come?” she asked. Jinu smiled sadly.

“For four hundred years, music was a weapon,” he said. “Before that, it was desperation. Until you sang that song to defeat Gwi-Ma, I didn’t know it could be something else, like hope, or strength.” He locked eyes with Rumi, leaning in so she could smell the sweet bitter of his cologne.

“I’ll just stay a fan for now,” he muttered with a smile. “It feels right.”

Rumi smiled, nudging him with her shoulder as she averted her gaze.

“Whatever, dummy,” she giggled. “Then what are you gonna do when I’m not around?”

He smiled, eyes glimmering with excitement. He braced his hands against the wood beneath them to stand up.

“Wait just a second,” he said, bounding back into the house. She smirked as she heard his footsteps thump down the hallway. After about twenty seconds, he reemerged, sitting beside her.

He cradled in his arms a bipa, its light, polished wood shimmering in the sun as he adjusted his arms to pluck the strings, sending a bright, earthy resonance through the air. Her breath left her.

“Oh, Jinu,” she whispered. He gave her his signature sad smile as he plucked a few more notes.

“I used to play the bipa to survive,” he said. “Now, I want to play it because I’m alive.” He sent a melody soaring through the air, harmonizing the wind flowing through the leaves above.

“Let me tell you a story, Rumi,” he said. She turned to face him, crossing her legs and placing her hands in her lap. She smiled as he paused for effect, then began a slow, steady melody.

There once was a lowly demon, who was sent to the human realm by the wicked demon lord.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.

He met a beautiful warrior, who hunted him to the edge of the world.

But before a battle could be had, they began to understand something. Something they had in common. The burdens of their being; the demon, a vessel of shame, and the warrior, a victim of duty.

Slowly, the demon and the warrior began to speak with sympathy, becoming allies against the terrible demon lord. The warrior gave the demon hope; the demon gave the warrior vulnerability.

In the final battle, they vanquished the demon lord together. With their souls united, the warrior set the demon free of his shame, and he became human. 

He declared his soul belonged to her, for eternity.

And they lived happily ever after.

THE END