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The world after the new Honmoon was nothing like the world before. Mostly, the world after the Saja Boys was nothing like it was before. There was no way for the world to go back to the way it was, not after the internet got a hold of the truth. Well, what the internet thought was the truth. Despite what Bobby said, the internet was not always right.
According to the internet, Huntrix had gotten into a fight, broken up, then repaired their relationship thanks to the timely intervention of the Saja Boys. From there, things got a little… tricky. It's hard to believe that there can be actual demons running around Korea, sometimes in broad daylight, stealing people's souls for nefarious purposes. And yet, some netizens swore that's what had happened. Others, the less gullible, said that it was just part of a collab.
Whatever the reason, the fact remained that the Saja Boys all but disappeared after that fateful performance and Huntrix were back on top of their game. It was the fastest comeback in industry history. But it was Huntrix, so everyone believed that it was genuine.
Rumi couldn't believe that it was over, that Jinu had given her his soul to defeat Gwi-ma and disappeared entirely from her life. He was gone, deader than dead after four hundred years of running away from a single mistake, of abandoning his mother and sister to poverty. She couldn't believe that someone who helped her hide her biggest secret, that sang such a soulful duet, could possibly be irredeemable.
She ran her fingers down the edge of her blade, irrecoverably changed by the addition of Jinu's soul, and couldn't believe that he meant to hurt her. He had wanted to be free of Gwi-ma more than anyone and was rewarded for that with one final act of self-sacrifice to bring about the new rainbow Honmoon. And it wasn't fair. None of it was fair. What was the point of being part of the number one idol group in the world when she couldn't even have her happy ending?
Yes, she did it for the fans out of love and devotion to the craft. But was it so bad to be selfish and have something for herself? Something that she didn't feel compelled to share with Mira and Zoey. Don't get her wrong, she loved the girls with all of her heart, but Rumi didn't want to share what she had with Jinu with anyone else.
Sometimes, it didn't feel like he was really gone. It was like his heart was in her hands as she wielded her blade against those demon stragglers who intended to harm the fans, as if she could hear his laugh when it turned out that the demon was harmless. The new Honmoon wasn't perfect, not a pure denier of access like it would have been if it was golden. And that was better, gave demons a chance of a normal life and redemption if they wanted it.
A victory like this felt somehow hollow without Jinu to see it.
She could wear her patterns freely now, rainbow shimmering skin on full display, and the fans loved it. Rumi could go to a bath house and enjoy herself, relax for what felt like the first time. But always, always, there was that thought in the back of her mind that this wasn't fair. Why did she get to be the one to sing in the sun when Jinu was gone. It wasn't fair.
Fair is foul and foul is fair, Rumi lived and Jinu died. He was the reflection that she was afraid of in the mirror and, now that she was comfortable in her own skin, that mirror had shattered. And she was left with nothing but the broken pieces stuck in her heart where no one could see. So much for being the invincible hunter, she couldn't even get over the death of one demon.
A single demon that she couldn't bring herself to admit that she could have possibly fallen in love with. Maybe she took after her mother more than Celine had ever told her. Maybe her mother loved a demon, too, and this was just the curse of her bloodline. Doomed to love and regret every second of not admitting out loud what she felt. All she'd had to do was tell a man that she loved him and, maybe, they could have had a happily ever after of their own.
Instead, she'd just have to live with a lifetime of regret.
Mira and Zoey knew better now than to let Rumi have any secrets. Not when the last one had been so serious that it had almost broken up the group and ripped apart the Honmoon. So it really shouldn't surprise her that she comes back from a snack run to see the other two sitting on the edge of the couch with serious faces and a pile of familiar blue envelopes on the coffee table in front of them.
Zoey looked like she was going to vibrate out of her seat, nostrils flaring and arms fidgeting. Mira looked stoic as usual, but her eyes kept darting to the pile of letters and notes. Neither one of them wanted to make the first move.
This was a moment a long time in coming. If two weeks counted as a long time in the scheme of things. For some reason, Rumi was more amused at their antics than worried. It was probably because she'd seen this coming and had nothing to hide from her fellow hunters. They'd come so far, done so much, and there was no reason to keep any more secrets.
Mira's eyes softened as she looked across the table at Rumi. "Do you wanna talk about it?" Her offer was sweet and well-meant but Rumi got the feeling that her girls had already figured her out. "Or do you wanna watch some rom-coms and cry about it?"
Zoey nodded and pointed at the remote and the pile of snicks she proudly revealed from beneath a pillow with a dramatic flourish. "We can stay up all night!" She reached over and patted the couch cushion between Mira and herself in invitation.
What else could Rumi do but sniffle and dive into the couch cushions where her girls waited to enfold her in a giant hug? Her heart felt as if it had cracked and the only thing holding it together was the love of her bandmates. She sniffled again and Mira dove for the tissue box just in time for the waterworks to truly kick in. Rumi tore at a tissue and howled. "He left me! That jerk said and did all that and he just—left me," she bawled as the girls looked on.
"Are we mad about it or crying," Zoey whispered to Mira, confused but trying her best to be supportive. "I can't tell which one."
Mira shoved the tissue box into Rumi's lap as Rumi shredded another tissue. "Both? Both is good," Mira muttered back, patting Rumi awkwardly on the shoulder as she cried. "There, there. We know. The big bad demon was playing with your feelings."
Rumi cried all the harder. "You don't understand," she wailed, whining her way through the tissue box, blotting at her eyes with the shriveled up remains of torn-up tissues. "He said I gave him his soul back. And then he just—gave it to me." There was no sign of the dignified stage presence that she'd cultivated, only a frustrated young woman sobbing her heart out to her best friends.
"He did that? Demons can do that?" Mira stared at Rumi, her mouth opening and closing in her confusion, before she grabbed Rumi by the shoulders and shook the other woman gently yet firmly. "What do you mean, he 'gave you his soul'?"
Rumi bawled, reached out to the chords of the Honmoon, and produced her sword. The thick blade gleamed with the pure blue light of Jinu's soul, springing up between the three hunters and making them lean back to escape the size of the sharp blade. "He's in my sword," she sobbed out.
Zoey reached out one hand to poke at the flat of the blade and got her hand slapped by the other women. "What? I was just looking!"
Mira glared at her. "Look with your eyes, not your hands," she firmly said. "That's how you lose fingers." She turned to examine the sword herself, poking the air near the middle of the blade. "What do you mean, Rumi?" As if Rumi had all the answers, Mira turned to her and stared.
"I don't know! All I know is he protected me from the demon king and then gave me his soul! And now my sword looks like this!" She didn't know how or why, but something had made him move to protect her. And she didn't realize that he wasn't there at her side until after the Honmoon had been repaired, when the dust had settled and all the fans had gone home. Even then, she said nothing about it to her band mates.
It was enough, heartbreakingly so, for them to see and accept her the way she was. It was more than enough and she shouldn't be greedy for more. But this—this was a long time coming. Two weeks was forever in the life of an idol, where lives and careers began and ended by weekly billboard charts. This was not one forever times two but two weeks out of a three month hiatus. The had time to sit and talk about things now.
Things, apparently, included Jinu. When was a good time to talk about the burgeoning feelings she had before Jinu had done what he did? Should she tell them about the song, the tiger, and the magpie? She should probably do that. Right after she took the time to keep the girls from cutting off their fingers on the edge of her new and improved soul sword.
"Stop trying to touch him," she said with a low sniffle. "He wouldn't like that." And when did she start treating her sword as if it was Jinu himself? Was it because her sword was all she had left of him other than the weird animals he'd left behind?
"Uh-huh," Mira said slowly, lowering her hand and reaching for a bag of chips instead. "So your sword is Jinu's soul now? That's gotta be hard to explain on dates." She didn't mean anything mean with that, but the logistics are questionable at best.
Rumi let the other two stare at her sword for a moment longer before letting it fall back into the Honmoon. Her sniffles had petered out, already done with crying after not even ten minutes, and Rumi was more interested in solutions than crying her heart out. "So. What do I do about it?" That was the question for the ages, a billion won and a cruise on the line, and Rumi didn't have the faintest idea. It wasn't like she could just whip out her phone and look up "my situationship gave me his soul and turned into my magical sword, what do I do."
The internet was convenient, but it wasn't that convenient. There were only so many places a hunter could get information and the internet wasn't really one of them. She could go and ask Celine, but their relationship was on the rocks since their last fight after the Idol Awards. Rumi knew that Celine wouldn't support Rumi's decision to even keep Jinu's soul around. She'd probably say something about needing to hide Jinu's soul from Rumi's band mates (too little, too late) and find some way to destroy Jinu's soul.
Here's the thing: Rumi didn't want to destroy Jinu's soul. She wanted to save it, bring him back, or do something to keep him in her life. Jinu didn't deserve the ending that he got. And, if she really thought about it, neither did Rumi. They'd had something there, for just a brief moment, that could have been something amazing. Should have been something amazing.
Mira and Zoey look carefully between each other, neither one trying to say something stupid and risk setting off Rumi's tears again. They cram their faces with snacks at the same time, carb-loading like usual before something emotionally and physically intense. It's funny, they can jump out of crashing planes and fight demons all day long but the concept of a heart-to-heart with Rumi makes them pause.
For awhile, the girls just sit there in silence, thinking about what to do next. If there even is something that they can do. They're idols and demon hunters, not scholars.
"Maybe," Zoey carefully begins, "we try to get his soul out? You know, like they do in the movies!" Her eyes are bright and hopeful, stars shining in them, and Rumi doesn't have the heart to point out that they don't know how to do that. How exactly do they separate soul from sword?
Mira blinks slowly at Zoey's suggestion. "We could do that. Try and bring him back."
Rumi wrings another tissue in her hands and watches it all but disintegrate from how hard she's pulling at it. "That's the plan? Just pull his soul out? Sure, let's try that." The other two Hunters cheer and throw their hands up in victory while Rumi grins. They could do this.
They couldn't do this.
Separating Jinu's soul from Rumi's sword proved a more daunting task than they could have ever anticipated. Nothing worked. They tried holding hands around the sword and chanting "come out," sprinkling the blade with salt water and chanting "demon begone," and even chanting Buddhist mantras at it. None of it made a difference. The sword stayed exactly the same. They even tried holding a candlelight vigil, much good that did them. It was as if Jinu's soul was determined to stay right where it was.
Rumi made the girls call it a night when the sun started shining on the horizon and the birds began singing. They'd stayed up too late, regrettably so, and still needed to wake up in time for practice. A couple of hours of a power nap would be enough to keep them going, but they wouldn't be able to keep doing that for very long or often. There had to be something that they were missing.
It distracted them, preoccupying their thoughts and making them miss cues. They were still on the top of their game, for pop stars on hiatus anyway. Oh, who was she kidding. Trying to figure out how to get Jinu's soul out of her sword was ruining their ability to function as idols. This couldn't go on. They had to figure something out before this ruined their careers.
It's been three weeks now since the Idol Awards and they've spent a week of it trying different ways to remove Jinu's soul. Maybe… maybe this is just the way things are now. Maybe Rumi just needed to accept that his soul was with her, now and always, whenever she needed him. Like this, she could be with Jinu and no one would suspect a thing. Wasn't that for the best?
That wasn't what he wanted or deserved. Jinu had wanted to be free. This wasn't freedom, far from it. If she really loved him, not that Rumi would ever say that she did but if she did, then she needed to let him go. That was the right thing to do. She didn't want to but it was, after all, the right thing to do.
Knowing that didn't make the pain any less.
"I have to let him go," Rumi concluded, sitting on the edge of her bed, her sword balanced across her knees. She stroked the blade gently with the tips of her fingers, almost as if she was petting Jinu himself.
"Or you could keep me."
That voice in the back of her mind sounded just like Jinu. It even smugly giggled at her like he did, laughing at the very idea of her giving him up. "I can't do that."
"I gave you my soul, so keep it."
It wiggled in her head, the sweetest temptation, and Rumi wants nothing more than to give in. What's the harm indulging the truth? "Jinu wanted to be free," she reminded the voice in the back of her mind and that was the end of that.
The voice sighed. "Did I ask you for that? No? Then stop putting words in my mouth."
Wait. What? Rumi was on her feet in an instant, blade at the ready, eyes darting around, and ready to face a new threat. "Who said that? Show yourself!" She stepped back, shifting her weight on her back foot, and couldn't find a single demon to slay. Not that there had been many demons to slay since the rainbow Honmoon. Just demons trying to live peacefully like humans.
She could feel the weight of him over her shoulder, as if it was really Jinu laughing at her reaction. "Would if I could. Really thought I had the icebreaker this time. Shame."
It felt as if he was really there, physically, even though there was no one there. Not even Derpy or Sussie. And it couldn't be a hostile demon trying to worm its way into her brain, not after the rainbow Honmoon. "Stop doing that. He's dead and you're insulting his memory." She wouldn't stand for that.
"Wow. I, uh, didn't know that you cared. About me," the voice said slowly, as if it had learned a heavy secret that it didn't expect. "I'm flattered."
"Don't get ahead of yourself," Rumi snapped back, falling into that familiar push and pull of conversations with Jinu. "You're not special." That was a lie. Jinu, if this really was Jinu, would never be ordinary to her. "If you're Jinu, then prove it."
That laugh, a deep chuckle, was all Jinu. "The first time we met, at night? You had trains on your pants." He dredged up a long forgotten secret just to prove a point. "And you asked me out on a date the first time you wrote back."
"That was just the way it came! God, you're such an old man about things." Rumi could feel herself relaxing into the flow of conversation with every word. Then her brain caught up with her words and she froze. "Jinu?"
"Yes, Rumi?"
"Have you been listening the whole time?"
"Would it make you feel better if I said no?"
No, no it would not. In fact, knowing that Jinu had heard everything going on around him made it worse. "So you've just been quiet the entire time we've been trying things?" She wasn't sure which was worse: that he'd heard or he'd said nothing.
For a moment, there was only silence. "Well," he began, "the salt water was a good attempt. Thought you'd had it there for a second."
"Jinu."
"Yes, Rumi?"
"Get out of my sword." She forced her voice to remain level and calm even as she wanted nothing more than to throw her sword back into the Honmoon and bury her face in the pillows while she screamed. "Right now."
"About that," he said carefully, "I don't think I can. Believe me, I've been trying." Jinu sounded frustrated, as if he really had been trying his best to leave her sword. "It's not as easy as you make it sound."
There was something that he wasn't telling her, as usual. As if his plots and plans were all come to naught in the face of his untimely demise. But she didn't feel like he was lying. Exasperated, tired, and determined, but not lying. Jinu was a lot of things but a liar wasn't one of then, not now. Not with his soul laid bare in the palms of her hands.
"Besides," he continues smugly, "I gave you my soul for a reason."
Rumi felt herself physically relaxing the longer the conversation went on. "What reason? Next, you're going to tell me that you're in love with me and want to stay with me forever." She flopped back onto her bed with a sarcastic laugh at the very idea of it, carefully laying her sword down beside her.
There was silence again before he slowly spoke. "You don't have to love me. But would it be so bad if I loved you instead? I gave you my soul, Rumi. What more do you want?"
What could she say to that? Was there even something she could say to that? "Sorry you fell in love with me, how do I fix that," seemed kind of rude. "I don't love you," was—well it wasn't a lie exactly. She didn't love him, not yet, and not the same way as she loved her girls, her fans, Bobby, and Celine. Rumi could love him, maybe, but what use was there in something one-sided? And it had to be one-sided, or then she'd have to come to terms with the fact that he loved her enough to die for her.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with something Rumi didn't dare to break. She buried her face in her hands, palms digging into her burning eyes as she tried not to think about the meaning of what he said. Rumi couldn't let him go now, not after knowing that he was in some strange limbo state between life and death. He was in her sword, aware and conscious, and she couldn't just ignore that.
"Look, it doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to. Consider this my penance for all the mistakes that I've made." He offers her an easy out, a simple kindness, and doesn't laugh when she heaves a heavy sigh. "Just let me stay. Please." It isn't begging from Jinu, just a request that she'd have to be a monster to deny.
Rumi turned her head to look at her sword and imagined Jinu looking back at her. "What about your freedom? Wasn't that why you did all of that in the first place?"
"Not if the cost was you! That will never be worth it." She could feel the fury in his voice and it made her shiver. "My freedom was never worth you dying," he finishes in a whisper.
Rumi can't handle this. Every word out of Jinu sounded like it could be a love confession and she wasn't ready to handle emotions that heavy. She flopped over on her bed and pressed her face into her pillow, silently screaming from the overwhelming emotions. "I didn't do it so you'd be stuck," Rumi muttered, her words muffled by her pillow.
"Sorry, what was that?"
Rumi shoved her sword off of the bed and back into the Honmoon.
There were bags under Rumi's eyes deeper than the Marianas Trench. She hadn't slept so poorly since Jinu sacrificed himself for her, since before her girls had convinced her to try out the bath house. There's no amount of eye brightening serum or concealer that will hide these bags. Rumi earned them, fair and square, staying up all night alternating between kicking her heels and screaming into her pillow because Jinu said that he loved her.
He also said it didn't have to mean anything if she didn't want it to.
Did that mean that his love was lesser than the love that she had for the important people in her life? That his love only lasted as long as she wanted it to? No, because he'd said his love for her was worth more than his freedom. What was she supposed to say to that? "Thanks, but no thanks," like he was one of her overenthusiastic fans?
As an idol, the top of the top of the idol world, Rumi wasn't even sure she was supposed to be dating, let along swearing to sacrifice their lives for each other—oh, fuck, she was really thinking about it. Would she be willing to throw everything away to be with him? Could she imagine a life with and without him? Would it be worth it?
She wanted it to be worth it. Because she'd spent the entire night thinking about it. Over and over, turning it around her brain like a chicken on a rotisserie. She hadn't even gone out for a walk because she couldn't let anyone see her like this. Rumi was just a hot mess that couldn't keep her emotions from flaring up through the patterns she now wore proudly on her skin. Something she never would have done if not for Jinu's prodding and support.
He made her better. Just by being him, just by refusing to accept that she was anything less than perfect the way she is. She wore short sleeves when it was hot outside now, no more jackets and turtlenecks to hide behind. Her voice had never been clearer or stronger and she'd never felt more stable in her creative vision. How could she hate him after everything?
Oh, god damn it, she was in love with Jinu.
Mira and Zoey were not prepared to walk out of their rooms at a respectable nine in the morning on a Tuesday to see Rumi sitting on the couch wearing Mira's sleeping bag. She had it zipped up so that only her face could be seen and she had a pair of sunglasses on to complete the look. The other two shared a long look between them and engaged in a silent game of charades over who would say something to a clearly distressed Rumi.
Zoey drew the short straw. Slowly, she crept closer to the couch. "Hey there," Zoey began, "how you doing over there, buddy?"
"I'm fine," Rumi replid. "Who said anything about Jinu? Nobody needs his stupid pretty face."
Mira and Zoey exchanged another look. Then Mira raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Jinu's stupid pretty face is dead, remember?"
Rumi reached into the Honmoon and pulled out her sword. Clearly, she was done having secrets from her band mates. "No, he's not," she said cheerfully. "He's in the sword."
"Yes, we know his soul is in the sword. What's the matter with you?" Mira wasn't in the mood to tolerate nonsense, not before a cup of coffee as black as her soul. "We can't get his soul out," she said slowly, until she stretched the vowels out into separate words.
Rumi smiled and it was just a touch manic around the edges. "No, no,. We don't have to get his soul out. He wants to stay in the sword." She leaned back against the couch and waved her fingers in the air. "We did all that… for no reason."
Mira and Zoey exchanged another glance. "Okay then," Zoey slowly replied. "Uh, when was the last time you slept? Just asking. You know, out of curiosity." Her voice was high-pitched and she laughed nervously as she spoke, looking Rumi up and down where she sat ominously on the couch.
Rumi gave an equally high-pitched laugh. "You don't understand. He talked to me last night. And now he won't go away." There was a pause, as if she was listening to someone else, before Rumi spoke again. "And I told you: we beat the demons and you get your freedom."
Mira blinked slowly. "Okay. Sure. I guess you could have a mental breakdown too. Zoey? Tell me you know a guy."
Zoey whipped her phone out and began rapidly typing away with her thumbs. "Oh! Mr. Han also does consultations and therapy!"
"Great. Let's go see him after we all have a nice, long nap." Mira gently prodded Rumi's shoulders until the other woman laid down properly on the couch, still wrapped up in the sleeping bag. She took Rumi's sword from her lap and stabbed it back into the Honmoon. Rumi's low protests made Mira click her tongue disdainfully. " No, no. No swords for tired Rumis."
Zoey tapped away at her phone some more. "Oh, lucky! He has an availability tomorrow!"
The thing about going to see Healer Han was that they needed to go incognito. A sleeping bag, unfortunately, did not count as incognito and Rumi refused to leave the sleeping bag. Mira had to bribe her out using a cup of ramyeon and a gimbap roll, waggling them in front of the woman until she shucked the top of the sleeping bag off like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. But they got Rumi out of the apartment and onto the streets of Seoul.
Getting her into the clinic was a whole other affair.
"He's a hack," Rumi muttered, the strings on her hood pulled tight and close to her face. "He sold me grape juice as a tonic last time."
Zoey patted Rumi on the shoulder. "But he's so perceptive! And that's just what you need right now. Someone perceptive who can tell you how to handle things better."
They moved in for the appointment together in order to support Rumi in her time of need. Healer Han, on the other hand, looked delighted that Huntrix had returned for another consultation. He looked ecstatic, all but vibrating under his skin with anticipation. "Huntrix! So soon after last time. Don't tell me, your voice has gone again." He seemed excited by the prospect of repeat customers.
Rumi stared at him. He stared back, eyes huge in his face as he examined her again. Then he sighed dramatically and pressed his hand to his heart.
"You're in love. A youthful and doomed love," he said after a long moment.
Zoey's eyes went wide and she gave a gleeful little shriek. She clapped her hands like she was watching a magician do a magic trick, giggling uncontrollably before the man whirled on her. "What? No! We're not here for me! Don't give me that look again!"
Healer Han's eyes all but bulged out of his head as he looked over the young woman. "Ah, yes. Still so eager to please, but you've overcome some difficulties recently."
Zoey nodded. "How could you tell," she exclaimed. "I mean, not that you need to reveal your secrets or anything."
Healer Han sniffed. "Trade secrets, I'm afraid."
Healer Han sent them off with another box of tonics that Rumi immediately peeled the label off of to reveal a nice vegetable blend.
Rumi spent her nights with Jinu and her days trying to convince her girls that she hadn't lost her mind from grief over Jinu's death. This was almost as bad as hiding her midnight rendezvous from them, somehow made worse by the fact that she couldn't prove it. No one but her could hear Jinu in her sword. Healer Han hadn't said that she'd lost her mind, just that she had a youthful and doomed love. She didn't feel particularly youthful, talking to a man in a sword who had said that he loved her, but she did feel pretty doomed.
Three weeks and five days into their hiatus and Rumi was already done with it. She should have gotten her girls together at the beginning and told them everything, before she lost sleep trying to figure out what was going on by herself. She'd have had a much easier time of things then. Instead, she got concerned looks from her girls and gentle reproaches from Jinu.
She flopped back on her bed, narrowly avoiding falling onto her sword, and sighed. "No one believes me," she lamented to her captive audience of one. "They think I've gone crazy."
"Well," Jinu slowly said, "have you tried not telling them crazy things? If it was one of them saying this, you'd think they were crazy too."
Rumi hated that he wasn't exactly wrong. All of the pitying looks could have been avoided if she hadn't said what she'd said and done what she'd done. But like this, laying beside her possessed sword, she could pretend that he really was there with her. Alive, smiling, close enough to let him hold her again. If she tried to hold him now, she'd just end up hurting herself. So she's just have to pretend with her eyes squeezed tight until her heart believed it.
She went everywhere in the apartment with her sword (except the bathroom, she wasn't that obsessed), claiming that Jinu shouldn't be lonely. But the lonely one was her, desperate for something that she couldn't have.
"I can't take this anymore," Mira said with a scowl, flipping her almost empty bowl of popcorn into the air. "You're just moping around at this point. That's no way to take a break!" She stomped her way around the coffee table and down the hall so that she could rap her knuckles on Rumi's door. "Out! We're going out! Put your game face one!"
Rumi spared a moment to listen to the knock and Mira's determined yell. "I'm not going. I'm going to stay in with Jinu." She owed him that much at least.
"Don't mind me, just go hang out with your friends. I've had enough freedom for today," Jinu said ever so gently. "Come on, time to get out of those train pants and do something fun."
Mira snorted on the other side of the door. "Yeah, what Jinu said. Come hang out with your friends." Then she paused, clearly thinking about what she had just said and heard, and gave a strangled yelp. "Wait, what Jinu said?"
Rumi sat bolt upright, springing to her feet and running to the door. She threw it open with wide and wild eyes, grabbing Mira by the shoulders and shaking her slightly. "You heard him? You heard Jinu?" It wasn't all in her head, the product of delusional madness. Someone else had heard him. Unprompted even, like part of a real conversation. She almost wanted to cry in triumph.
Mira's own eyes were wide as she processed what she had just heard. "That was Jinu? That was really him, in your room. Alone with you. Oh my god, you're dating your sword." She grabbed Rumi's shoulders in turn and stared her deep in the eyes. "You're seriously in love with your own sword."
"She's in love with me?"
"What, that'd be crazy," Rumi deflected carefully, suddenly avoiding any and all eye contact. Of course Mira could tell. They'd known each other since their trainee days, friends for years and band mates for life. "Who said that? Not me." She very carefully didn't deny what Mira said. Lying never got anywhere with her.
Zoey poked her head around the door frame, curiosity plain on her face as she nosily butted her way into the moment. "What about Jinu? Oh! Are we talking to the sword now? I'll go first: hi Jinu! Please stop haunting us, okay? We'll get you a very nice ancestral shrine later."
"Hi Zoey," Jinu replied dryly, "I don't think I have a choice in haunting you."
Zoey screamed.
Jinu screamed.
Zoey threw her knives at the bed in panic, pulling them back when she realized all she had managed to do was put holes in Rumi's bed. "Sorry! I heard a ghost."
Mira and Rumi turned to look at Zoey, flabbergasted and vaguely amused. They released each other's shoulders, dusted themselves off, and turned to the task of calming Zoey down.
"That's not a ghost," Rumi said, calm as could be. "That's just Jinu. I told you, he's in my sword." She patted Zoey on the shoulder and grinned. "Zoey, Jinu. Jinu, Zoey. I think you've met before."
Zoey made a sound somewhat akin to a tea kettle boiling over. "He's really in the sword. Oh my god, he's been in the sword the whole time. How does he breathe? Do demons even need to breathe? If he's not a ghost, that means he's still alive, right? What does he even eat?" She had so many questions, each one delivered rapid fire.
Mira pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and pointed to the sword with her other hand. "That's a sword, Zoey. Swords don't eat," she pointed out, not unkindly. "The real question is what do we do about it. He can't stay like that."
"I don't mind," Jinu said quickly, almost as if he was hiding something.
"Uh-huh," Mira said slowly. "I'm sure you don't." Her eyebrows raised and she smirked. "You know, it's easier to date when you, like, have hands," she said with a grin.
Zoey ducked under Rumi and Mira's arms to prance her way gleefully to Rumi's bedside. "Is that it? Are you two dating? How does that work, exactly? Do you just sit around, talking? Or does Rumi take you places and just whip her sword out in public?"
Rumi and Jinu laughed nervously, knowing that they really did just sit around talking. They spoke about everything that struck their fancy from who could rap the fastest to what Rumi's plans were after the hiatus. How would Rumi handle the inevitable solo projects year and what song would she want to duet with Jinu if she could. Jinu talked about his mother and sister, the voices that plagued him for four hundred miserable years, and the things he had done under Gwi-Ma's command.
It wasn't all heavy topics. Sometimes, they talked about things like Jinu's pets, Derpy the tiger and Sussy the magpie, or Rumi's favorite story from her trainee days. They talked about everything, but the truly important part was that they were together.
Mira's eyes narrowed, flicking back and forth between Rumi and her sword. "They're totally dating and they've just been hiding it from us. Rude of them, wouldn't you say, Zoey?"
Zoey nodded like a bobble-head figure. "Totally rude of them. And to think, we were going to go out tonight when Rumi and Jinu already had a nice night in planned."
Mira snorted. "This is a journey they have to take themselves. Well, unless there's any other secrets the two of you are hiding in here," she said pointedly, staring out the doors to the balcony. "Big, blue secrets maybe."
Rumi paused in her internal despair over her girls knowing that she was both in love with Jinu and secretly talking with him all night. She looked around Mira and sighed, dragging her feet as she raised a hand to point at the big blue tiger that was, yet again, trying to right another pot that it had knocked over by accident. "Hang on, I'll get him," she said with a small laugh.
Derpy (which was such a silly name for an equally silly creature) looked up from the pot, watching as Rumi righted it for him. He made a low little mrow and headbutted Rumi's hand for pets and attention. For a moment, she simply bent at the waist and pet the silly creature. He rubbed his head along her hand and purred.
Rumi slowly led the tiger inside the apartment where he padded his way silently across the carpet, watching him look around at the two new people. "Girls, this is Derpy. Derpy, these are my band mates: Mira and Zoey." She grinned as Zoey's eyes went wide and she squealed with delight as the tiger stared at Zoey. "He likes hugs and pets," Rumi offered cheerfully.
Zoey looked up from offering her hand to sniff. "He does?" Derpy headbutted Zoey's hand and rolled over onto his belly with wide and beseeching eyes. "Oh! He does!" She spent a good while with her hands buried in the soft fur at Derpy's chest and belly, gleefully giggling while Derpy pawed at the air, making biscuits.
Mira crossed her arms over her chest and stared down the magpie that flew inside in the wake of Derpy's entrance. "And who the hell are you? Weirdly suspicious bird?"
Rumi grandly gestured to the bird. "And this is Sussy."
Mira stared from the bird to the tiger and back again. "The derpy tiger is Derpy and the sus bird is Sussy? That's not exactly the most original naming. And what's with the hat? Not that it's not cute or anything."
"Well," Rumi said with a laugh, "blame Jinu. He's the one who named them, not me. As for the hat… apparently the hat is for the tiger but the bird keeps stealing it. I think it's cute."
Zoey looked up from snuggling with Derpy, blue fur stuck to the side of her face, and she giggled. "It's adorable," she confirmed. "Aren't you just the cutest big ol' baby. Yes, yes you are," Zoey cooed, going back to rubbing Derpy's belly. "It's not your fault that Jinu is bad at naming things."
"Hey! I resent that," Jinu said, "I'm still here you know."
"You resemble that, you mean," Mira snarked back, taking no prisoners like normal. "You really are bad at naming things. Own it, it's a charm point."
If there was one thing that Huntrix knew how to do better than anyone else, it was regrouping to revisit an old idea. They had all but given up on the idea of removing Jinu's soul from Rumi's sword but, not that they knew that he really was stuck in there, they couldn't just leave him there. Despite all of his protests that everything was fine, the young Hunters knew that it wasn't. Being trapped in a sword was no way to live.
And they owed it to him to at least try to save him from such a cruel fate.
They reconvened on the couch, the sword carefully placed on the coffee table, surrounded by snacks and piles of notebooks. No idea was too obscure or foolish to be considered when it came down to it. Who knew what it would take to bring Jinu back to life? This was as serious as writing a new song.
Zoey had her head buried in an old book she'd bought off the internet with express shipping so that it had arrived the same day. "Do we know how to get to the underworld?"
Rumi paused, halfway through taking notes on obscure myths from Europe that she was beginning to suspect was how to identify a vampire, and lifted her head. "No, why?"
Zoey wiggled in place and brandished the book. "Well, there's like a bunch of myths about going to the underworld to bring back a dead person that the person loves. Not that you're in love with Jinu or anything, but that's an option." She looked so serious, scribbling it down as an option.
Mira snorted. "Strike that one. We can't get into the underworld thanks to the Honmoon. We'd have to wait a whole year for the next Idol Awards. There has to be something quicker than that." She flipped through her own dusty tome, checked out from the library, and made notes in her own notebook. "Or even more local."
"Again, I'm really fine like this," Jinu pointed out only to be ignored by everyone else.
Rumi tossed the book down and reached for another one, this one based on Korean mythology. "No trips to the underworld," she agreed. "Too many unhappy demons and not enough time in the day." She flipped through the book and hummed an idle melody to herself.
"Oh," Zoey murmured, "that's a new melody. Is that for your solo project?"
Rumi nodded. "I've been working on it with Jinu. Just a little bit." She turned another page and kept on reading. "If we can get him out of the sword, anyway."
They'd get Jinu out of the sword, they had to.
Money is no issue when it comes to making decisions. If they find something that works? They'll pay the price for it and not even think twice. Generations of Hunters had made their fortunes and passed it down to their successors, who in turn grew that fortune to pass it down to their own successors. Huntrix had enough money to live in luxurious comfort for the rest of their lives and still not run out of money.
Wherever the magical solution for Jinu's freedom ended up? They'd be able to go there and pay whatever price for the solution to his state. Even if they'd had to go to the ends of the earth, Huntrix would do it.
Zoey tossed her book down and excitedly pointed at a particular passage. "That's it! I found it! The Hwansaengkkot! Part of Jeju Island's Igong Maji. The flowers of reincarnation!"
Jeju Island was only a jet flight away.
Rumi was pretty sure that had been the first flight she had ever taken that hadn't gone wrong because of some strange demon plot. It was strange and weird, not to mention mildly anxiety inducing, instead of being relaxing. Sure, she could carb-load in peace and quiet with her girls, but when would the demons attack?
"Where does it go," Jinu whispered, torn between horror and amazement. "They're all so skinny. Where does all that food go?"
Rumi blinked, halfway through cramming a gimbap roll in her face. She finished devouring the roll and burped politely into the palm of her hand. Wiping her hand down with a wet wipe, she cleared her throat and carefully avoided looking at the sword propped carefully up against a seat across from the idols. "So. Jeju Island? What's our cover story?"
Mira, uncaring of Jinu's opinions, snorted and tossed a handful of peanuts into her mouth. "We're on hiatus, remember? This is just a part of our vacation." She rolled her eyes and passed a peanut up to the bird that squawked on her shoulder. Sussy took its bribe with great dignity and meeped quietly as it ate its peanut bribe. "A working vacation is still a vacation, you know."
"Jeju is known for its vacation spots," Zoey pointed out with a mouthful of chips. She was still upset that they couldn't have Derpy on the plane in plain sight, lest they terrify the entirely human flight crew. "It's just Jeju, Rumi. We're not secret spies or something."
They were there to hunt for the Hwansaengkkot, not to frolic around on vacation. But a little sight-seeing wouldn't be the end of the world. They had plenty of time to hunt down the legendary flowers of resurrection. Somehow, Rumi was filled with hope that they'd succeed this time. They'd succeed, bring Jinu back, and then she could throttle him for doing this to her in the first place. How could he jus tsacrifice himself and then tell her afterwards that he loved her?
Not even eating her favorite food made her feel better about that. Wasn't he supposed to at least say sorry for what he'd done? All the mental pain and anguish had just been left ignored in the wake of the revelation that he was really and truly existing within her sword. But, while he wanted to stay in the blade, she would rather have him alive and with her. If he wanted to be with her. Loving someone and being with them were two separate things. All of this time together just made Rumi question things more and more, instead of giving her any sort of comfort.
She wanted to be with him, yes, but could she handle things if it turned out that there was no magical solution to the problem?
Rumi idly drummed her fingers on the snack-covered table and tried her best to lay her concerns to rest with not much success. It was a quick flight, not really suited for such introspection, but she used the flight for every scrap of free time. Jinu might be idly conversing with her girls, polite and low enough that Rumi could easily tune it out, but she could still feel the comfort of his presence. He was there, not quite dead and not quite alive, but indisputably present. And, oh, how she wanted to keep him all to herself despite all the very sensible reasons why not to.
Zoey and Boby had been the ones to make arrangements for their stay. They had a nice little beach-side vacation house rented for a month and a plan to search the length of the island for the Hwansaengkkot. Not that any of them even knew what the flowers looked like. They were hunting for a single bouquet on an island chock full of other flowers. It was finding a needle in a haystack. But Huntrix were nothing if not determined to find the flowers and bring Jinu back to life.
Zoey stayed back in the rented house, sprawled on the couch with her legs dangling over the back. She waved cheerfully as Rumi and Mira left to look across the streets of Jeju. Her mission? To come over every flower shop, boutique, venue, display, or whatever and then send the most likely candidates to Rumi and Mira. She'd volunteered to do it, cheerfully citing her old American internet habits as bonafides. "I got this," she said with a goofy grin. "This'll be just like a spy movie!"
If this was a spy move, at least Mira dressed to impress. She made the girls wear their usual hoodies and old jeans as disguises, slapping a giant pair of sunglasses on her face with an unrepentant grin. "Secret agents and pop idols? I could get behind that. Might as well have fun with it while we can."
Neither of the young women were going to just roll over and let Jinu stay haunting Rumi's sword. She was unspeakably grateful that her friends were so open-minded and dedicated to their friendship, wiping away a stray tear as the other two looked on with grins on their faces. "All right, we'll head out to the most likely places and see if we can find these flowers. Mira, Zoey, let's do this."
Magical flowers of resurrection weren't as easy to find as Rumi had hoped.
It wasn't for lack of trying, either.
For weeks, they scoured Jeju Island in search of a bouquet of magical flowers. Weeks of searching, consulting with florists and priests alike, all to no avail. The Hwasaengkkot were nowhere to be found. They had gone on a wild goose chase to no avail. Jinu was dead and would stay that way. There was nothing that they could do now except go back to the drawing board and let this vacation come to an unsatisfying end.
Rumi went for walks late at night with her sword slung over her shoulder in a baseball bat case, her only concession to normality. Late at night, there was no one to see or hear her slow slide into madness. Rumi talked to Jinu on those walks, bold as brass as she pretended that he was there to hold her hand. He laughed at her awkward attempts to talk to him about lighter topics, but played along anyway.
"What will you do once you're out of my sword?" It was the one thing that consumed her thoughts, waking and otherwise, the question of what he wanted to do with his second chance. "Don't say penance, that's boring."
Jinu waited a moment before slowly answering. "Before or after I kiss you?" He sounded so earnest, as if he had been thinking about kissing her more than anything else in the whole wide world. More than freedom, more than his second chance. All he wanted to think about was kissing Rumi. And she couldn't lie and say that she didn't think about it, too. "I think I'll start by kissing you and see where that goes. I mean, if you want to. No pressure. I don't want to kiss you unless you want me to be kissing you." He was so sweet and awkward that his words didn't register to Rumi for a long moment.
She tripped over nothing, stumbling against a camellia tree, her eyes wide as she tried to process what he had said. "You want to kiss me?" The question slipped out before she could stop herself, uncertain and fragile. Quickly, she straightened and cleared her throat. "Not that I would mind you kissing me." She wasn't about to beg or tell him no, not now the thought was out there to consider. Because, now that she thought about it, Rumi couldn't stop thinking about kissing him.
"You wouldn't? I mean, that's good. It's settled then." Jinu sounded surprised that she would so readily agree to kissing him, probably on account of the tension thick between them. It could have gone either way, a kiss with a fist or with lips, depending on how irritated Rumi was at Jinu's sacrifice. It'd been weeks since the Idol Awards and, still, Rumi wasn't over it. "I'll kiss you like you deserve to be kissed," he promised.
Rumi couldn't stop the blush that spread across her cheeks even if she tried. She closed her eyes and tried to thinking calming thoughts, schooling her expression as best as she could. "Like I deserve, huh?" Rumi tried to play it cool, laughably so, but she wanted to know what that meant.
She could imagine his slow smile, the way he stuffed his hands in his pockets when he was trying to be cool, even if he wasn't really there physically with her. Oh god, she loved him so much and he wasn't even there to hold her like she wanted. Rumi loved Jinu enough to try to go to the underworld, if she had to, to drag him back through the Honmoon. If they couldn't find the flowers? She'd do it in a heartbeat if that's what it took to bring him back.
Jinu gave a giddy little relieved laugh. "If you let me kiss you? I'll give it my all," he promised, voice as light as summer rain. "I love you." The bald truth, plain and unembellished, made her shiver with delight. "Even if we can't find the Hwansaengkkot, I'll still love you."
A doomed love, one where they could never touch again, was still a precious love from beyond the grave. She would treasure it forever.
"Buy a flower for your sweetheart?" A small old woman, wearing work gloves and a sun visor even this late at night, brandished a basket of beautiful camellia flowers towards Rumi. "Freshly picked and a good gift for a man in love."
Rumi must be feeling sentimental, reaching for her wallet without thinking about it. She wanted something to mark the occasion, bright and bold like their love should have been. A flower would be nice and simple, understated and lovely. "How much," she asked, already halfway to a crisp bill to cover the costs.
The old woman looked around. "Oh? Are you buying it for yourself? Shame, I thought your boyfriend would buy it for you."
Rumi's fingers trembled on her wallet. She'd all but forgotten that he wasn't really there. "Uh, no, sorry. Speaker-phone. I'll buy my own flowers and he can pay me back later." She'd forgotten that other people could hear Jinu now, after prolonged exposure to the world outside of the Honmoon, and Rumi would need to come up with a better excuse for the sound of his voice.
The old woman pursed her lips. "He's not even here? Girl, you can do better. Alone on Jeju Island in the middle of the night, pretty girl like you? No, no, do better."
Rumi felt the need to defend Jinu as he spluttered. "He's not terrible. He's just on a trip. Business, you know." She laughed nervously as the old woman squinted up at Rumi.
"And you didn't go with him? You have much faith in him. Here, take these. You could use something nice." The old woman pushed a little bouquet of flowers at Rumi, the blossoms bright even in the darkness, and Rumi stood there for a moment with an armful of red flowers. "Poor thing."
Rumi handed a 10,000 won bill to the old woman, then another until the old woman smiled. "Thank you," she said politely with a respectful bow.
The old woman sniffed. "See that your man gets you something nicer. A ring, if he really loves you."
Rumi could feel her cheeks heating as she furiously blushed. "Yes, thank you for the advice. We'll keep it in mind," she squeaked out.
"See that you do. May those flowers bring you peace and long life," the old woman said as she shuffled her way off with her basket under her arm and 20,000 won richer. "Young people these days. No sense of romance." She shook her head and huffed her way into the night where she had come from.
Rumi and Jinu stood there in complete silence until Jinu spoke. "Well she seemed nice. But Rumi, speakerphone? I'm on a trip?" Then he paused. "Am I your boyfriend now?" He seemed oddly cheerful about that last part, as if just that slip-up was a reason to celebrate.
Rumi cradled the flowers in the crook of her arm and tried to ignore the goofy little smile that threatened to break free. "We're not dating," she said sternly.
"But we could be," Jinu popped back, the grin evident in his disembodied voice. "Just think of all the little old ladies we could make happy if we dated."
He wasn't wrong, damn him, but she didn't want to date him just to appease a bunch of little old ladies. She wanted to date for nothing but love, which they had. What did it matter that a bunch of little old ladies approved of their relationship or not? Though, she supposed it would be a good thing that any of their fans approved of their dating. There had been those trending portmanteau hashtags during the Saja Boys' short-lived debut, though, so maybe there was hope on that front. She wanted to date for herself, just this one thing to be selfish of.
But she couldn't say that she wasn't afraid that her fans would be upset over even the rumor of her dating, let alone the reality of it. Did she want this? Was it worth risking everything to be with Jinu?
Rumi wandered the camellia grove without a destination, eventually settling under one of the short yet broad trees. She sat up, curled up and out of the sight of passers-by, with her sword in her lap and the bouquet tucked safely beside her. "Is that why you want to date me? The approval of little old ladies?"
Jinu sighed, an impressive feat for someone without functional lungs. "No, I want to date you because I love you enough to die for you." He was matter-of-fact about it, cutting through her doubt like a knife. "And if I love you enough to die for you, shouldn't I love you enough to want to live too?"
Her breath caught in her throat and Rumi ducked her head to hide her face in her jacket. "Shut up with your stupid face."
"But you like this stupid face, don't you," he pointed out with a laugh. "Enough to try to bring me back to life. We're all the way in Jeju, trying to find a bunch of mythical flowers. You can't even say you don't like me back, Rumi." He hadn't let her lie to herself before and wouldn't let her lie to herself ever again.
Rumi made a strangled sound as she hid her face away. "I—I," she stammered. "I can't even be with you. Not like this. No matter how much I love you, you're still a ghost." Crying now, in front of Jinu, was the last thing that she wanted to do. But she couldn't stop the tears that trickled slowly down her face at the very reminder that he wasn't around at all the way she wanted. She couldn't say that he was really dead, not when he was haunting her sword, trapped within the blade. "This is hopeless."
Hopeless to everyone but Jinu. "We'll figure something out. If this doesn't work? We'll try something else." Brave and confident, Jinu refused to accept his fate if it brought Rumi to tears. "Don't cry, Rumi."
She sniffed wetly one last time, wiping her eyes of hot tears, and stroked her fingers idly across the bright red camellia blossoms beside her. They were perfect, velvet soft, and soothing. Rumi lifted the bouquet into her arms, one last tear dripping down her face to land on one flower's bright yellow stamen. There was a faint blue glow and the Honmoon all but lit up around her.
There was magic in unexpected places all around the world and this grove on Jeju was no different.
The blue light glowed and swirled around Rumi and her sword, billowing in a gust of magic from the camellia flowers. A gift from the universe, perhaps, one last scrap of magic unbound by the Honmoon. Bright and shining, hope in every breath, Rumi felt her patterns pulse in time with the breath of the universe, life, and death. In the space of one single moment, space expanded and contracted.
His hand was warm in hers, fingers curling around hers.
She opened her eyes, looked up, and Jinu smiled at her. "Jinu? Is that really you," she questioned, hope and love making her voice thick.
"Hi," he said back lamely, his grin goofy. "Can I kiss you now?"
Rumi threw herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck, and knocking his gat clean off of his head. She said nothing as they landed in the grass beneath the camellia tree, merely stared down at the man beneath her.
He was exactly as he'd looked the last time she'd seen him. The same yellow-gold eyes. The same wicked smile. But his patterns were… different. Softer, lighter against his skin, and glowing with the light of the rainbow Honmoon. Jinu was still indisputably a demon, pointed fang-like canines and all, but he seemed somehow less likely to steal her soul and more likely to help her defend it. It was a good look for him. As if he had found freedom and it was everything he had hoped it would be.
His hands found their way to the small of her back and rested comfortably as if they were meant to be there. Gently, Jinu pulled her down into his warm embrace. His nose brushed against hers for a brief moment before he tilted his head to press his lips against hers.
A kiss should have been no big deal. Just a simple press of lips together, breath shared, and two people introducing themselves to love. What it really was? Hearts pounding, aching for more, as one quick press of lip to lip became many. His hands roamed on her back and she clung to his shoulders as he pulled her close and closer still so that he could kiss her more and more. Rumi sighed into his mouth as they parted one last time.
Jinu looked like a wreck beneath her, breathing hard and heavy as he looked up at her. "Again?" He panted, hard, and reached one hand up to cup the back of her head beneath her braid, pulling her in for another kiss even as he still hadn't recovered from their first.
Rumi breathed against his mouth, those petal soft lips trembling against her whisper. "Here?"
"Anywhere," he answered breathily.
She angled her head just so to kiss the tip of his nose. His answering whine made her grin. "You said anywhere," Rumi reminded him with a low laugh. Then, when his fingers tightened at her nape, she leaned in to kiss him properly. Their noses smashed awkwardly against cheek bones as they tried to figure out angles and logistics in the middle of the throes of burgeoning passion. She sighed into his mouth and he took the opportunity to lick his way inside her mouth to taste her every sound and breath.
"Oh my," came a strange, startled, and familiar woman's voice. "I see you found your boyfriend." The old woman giggled as the two sprang apart. She watched as they coughed and straightened their clothes, still trying to surreptitiously keep in contact through small touches. "But maybe you should find a better place to do so." Her eyebrows waggled suggestively and Rumi couldn't take it.
Rumi grabbed Jinu's hand and dragged him off into the night with a laugh.