Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Purple and red figures blended together in her periphery as the music wrapped its claws around her throat. The smell of the crowd was something that brought her comfort. It carried the knowledge that her family’s disintegration—the only place she was sure she belonged—hadn’t caused her complete isolation. Except, it could only go so far. In the crowd, she wasn’t an individual—she wasn’t Zoey—she was merely a part of a whole.

You’re not enough, you never have been.

There was a second where she looked up toward the stage, a brief moment where she was sure her eyes found his. 

“Know I’m the only one right now. ” 

The daze flickered, his words a warm stroke against her ear. Zoey’s soul mellowed at the harsh truth of the lyrics. She lost Rumi and Mira, she couldn’t go home, and she lost her only purpose in life. In a cruel twist of fate, he was the only one left. If she were more in control, the Hunter would’ve reasoned that the demon was singing to the crowd, but in her desperation, she clung to the thought that he saw her. 

“I’ll love you more when it all burns down, ” he promised and a smile lifted her defeated face. She hummed along as her feet shuffled with the current of the crowd, a dreamy expression swaying along with her puppetted body. 

It was a balm to her suffering, knowing someone out there still loved her. Even if it was a ploy—an elaborate trap to walk her to her fiery demise. Gwi-Ma’s fire turned the purple and red world into a comforting, passionate pink. She never realized the twisted choice of color.

Soothing. 

Safe. 

Just walk into the fire and I’ll take your pain away.

The warmth started to fan against her cheeks. She was only a step away from her death now. Her ancestors must be disappointed in her, not just those she was related to by blood. The Hunters were surely cursing her name for failing her life’s purpose. 

Oh, what did it matter anymore? Zoey closed her eyes and let her body sway forward.

“Living in your mind now, too late, 'cus you’re mine now.” 

A searing pain sent her careening backward away from the flames, tears sprouting in her eyes. Zoey grasped at her chest as she tried to force air back down her lungs. It felt like teeth bit down into her soul, a large maw with sharp incisors and two large tusks curling a pair of lips into a constant sneer. She was being torn in half at her very core, falling to the crowded floor.

Her final sight was two golden eyes she’d never seen before. 

Zoey gasped as she flung herself from sleep, the blankets tangling in her flailing legs. Her upper body thudded against the floor. The blankets held on tight to her feet, trying to save her from her fate. They were half successful, she figured.

She pushed herself up from the floor on her strong arms and used the heel of her palm to wipe the tears from her eyes right as Mira burst into the room, weapon glittering gold like the Honmoon. 

The pink-haired Hunter let her moon blade disappear in a glittery smoke, realizing the room was still secure. “You ok?” she asked and sat down at Zoey's tangled feet. Mira let out a yawn into her palm.

“Mhm,” Zoey hummed. “Just a dream.”

“Again?”

It has been a nightly occurrence ever since they sealed the Honmoon. After the Saja Boys’ winning performance and their joint singing, Huntr/x realized the situation was too dire. Rumi struggled to regain her voice, but something about her changed, and suddenly she could sing Golden again. They set a surprise live performance for their fans a week ago, and it all happened just like Celine said.

The world went gold, blue souls bubbling into the glittery color until they could weave the power of unity into the Honmoon itself. All demons were banished back to Gwi-Ma’s realm and finally, finally, the world was safe for eternity. They could relax, go to the bathhouse, and maybe focus on writing songs with less high stakes…

Except, Rumi had locked herself in her room since the night of their big victory, and Zoey’s dreams were plagued by the same golden eyes and taunting melody.

Mira brought her out of her thoughts with a sigh. “Are you gonna tell me what the dream is now?” 

Zoey pulled a smile onto her face despite the way her stomach knotted. Mira was already so tired. She was the one bringing Rumi food every day, the one staying up in case their lead singer and best friend opened her door. She didn’t need Zoey’s dream to add to her list of things to worry about. “Yeah, it’s not showing you that compilation of turtle videos. Then they end up chasing me down on the stage and materialize into one giant turtle.” 

“Really.” Mira meant it as a question but she couldn’t refrain from adding extra sarcasm. She wasn’t one to boost her own ego—her ego was already through the roof—but she felt she could sniff out lies like a bloodhound. 

And Zoey was lying to her, just like Rumi lied to her. Mira was really starting to get tired of it.

“That’s why I haven’t told anyone. Duh,” Zoey laughed.

Mira’s shoulders relaxed slightly, guilt nipping at her heart. How could she be angry with Zoey? Huntr/x was her family. They believed in her when no one else did. She owed them her loyalty and gave it freely at the same time. “Sure thing, Zoey. Getting up to eat some comfort ramyeon, or are you going back to sleep?”

“Ramyeon dooooesss sound good right about now… but I got a turtle to beat up first,” the dark-haired Hunter chirped. 

Zoey was satisfied seeing Mira leave with a smile. The soft click of her door closing left her in a content silence. In her solitude, she felt unbothered about the incessant need to monitor the condition of others. Her feet touched the cool floors as she pattered up to her vanity, humming Golden when she reached for her brush.

The Honmoon responded with a low rumble that caused her to pause. The gold tendrils ignited in her vision like the ripples in a pond. A wave of pink flowed passed her hand, twisting over the furniture in her room and trickling out the glass doors to her balcony. Zoey followed, instinctively drawing her throwing knives as she slid open her balcony doors.

Within seconds of stepping into the chilly night air, there were hands gripping her wrists. Wind roared in her ears as she screamed. Her stomach kicked and churned so badly that Zoey’s knees gave way as she hurled, but nothing came out. Skipping dinner, apparently, was a smart strategy for getting kidnapped in the middle of the night. 

She blinked away tears and scrambled up to her feet, her head spinning wildly. The hands gripping her wrists were gone, but so was her room. She was standing on a rooftop of a building she recognized—the bath house close to Huntr/x tower. Zoey’s hold on her knives tightened.

Only one creature on this Earth could teleport.

He was watching her, sitting against the roof ledge behind her.

Pale violet hair shone like silver in the moonlight, contrasting purple skin marred with dark purple markings. Soft lips were slightly parted by two small fangs until he took a deep breath in, and hid them again. His bangs curtained his glowing gold eyes, but Zoey knew they were analyzing her every move. 

Her fighting stance was confident, practiced, and deadly—knives angled in such a way where she could quickly switch between short and long range. 

This had to be a trick. The Honmoon sealed all demons away, back to the realm where they came from! How could Mystery still be in the human world? 

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, brown eyes narrowed on her target.

He was in different clothes, something more casual. A black hoodie atop dark baggy jeans. It suited him—to look like he could’ve walked out of any store, stepped on any train, and been just like any other human. Zoey repressed the thought.

“We’re stuck.”

We. He must mean the rest of the Saja Boys! But why-

“The Honmoon is gold. You should’ve been sent back to Gwi-Ma!” 

He huffed quietly, the corners of his lips tilting down. “Clearly.”

Zoey glanced around at the rooftop ledges. She was alert, waiting to see four golden eyes slowly come from the shadows. Waiting for an ambush. “Are you here to kill me?”

“No,” Mystery said quickly. For some reason, she believed him. “I’m here to ask about your demon friend.”

Zoey scoffed at him. “I don’t have a demon friend.”

“You don’t?” Mystery tilted his head, taunting her with a little smile playing on his lips. “Jinu said otherwise.”

Jinu. That was their leader, from what Zoey remembered. “Where is he?” 

“Not here,” he shrugged. “They can’t leave our hideout.”

It was Zoey’s turn to tilt her head. “Why?”

He motioned to himself with an open, clawed hand. Zoey’s breath caught as she watched, mesmerized by every aspect of him. Purple skin, fanged teeth, and demon patterns disappeared in a puff of smoke. He looked so beautifully human it almost hurt to know what lurked underneath the disguise. 

In the blink of an eye, Mystery returned to his demon form. “They can’t do that.”

He doesn’t seem to be a big fan of talking. Zoey’s eyes squinted as she chewed on the knowledge. So the Honmoon turning gold didn’t banish them from the human realm, but it must’ve limited their powers due to their lack of contact with Gwi-Ma. Then the question remained…

“Why can you?” 

He licked his lips but didn’t answer her, instead pushing himself up to stand. Zoey lifted her knives up higher and stepped back. She kept herself slightly bent, making herself a smaller target in case he attacked. Though, she didn’t see why he would now. The only benefit to attacking her would be her death, which… maybe he wanted that. 

“You should check on your friend, Zoey.”

The sound of her name on his tongue was hypnotizing. She didn’t realize he even knew her name until right now. Stay professional, Zoey. He’s literally trying to kill you. “The demon friend that I don’t have?”

Mystery prowled up to her, stopping when her golden blade rested against his throat. He kept his hands deep in the pockets of his hoodie. To keep himself vulnerable, Zoey thought. It was working.

He only said one word- one name before he teleported away and left her completely shellshocked.

“Rumi.” 

Chapter Text

Rumi.

The dark-haired hunter scraped her knees, recklessly scaling the height of the bathhouse down to the paved streets.

Rumi.

She ran so fast her lungs threatened to collapse. Sweat flew off her temple and caught on her loose, wavy hair. Cold exhaustion yanked her legs out from under her right as she burst through the Huntr/x front doors.

Rumi.

Mira was already at the elevator, already had the question on her tongue when the chime sounded and revealed a disheveled Zoey inside. She didn’t have time to ask it, the youngest member of their group already racing down to Rumi’s bedroom.

“Rumi! Are-” the words died in Zoey’s throat as her feet came to a halt. Soft brown eyes went wide, a shaky breath taking her stumbling backward into Mira’s steady body. Neither could say a word at what they saw.

She looked like a dull oval pendant or a shattered glass mural hastily taped back together. Her tall body was curled into itself, her hands pressing her head into her knees with such force that Zoey was sure she’d break her neck. Long strands of purple hair spiraled around her in wild, caging swoops that fanned out at the ends like wolfsbane roots.

Rumi’s shoulders shook violently with sobs, but her voice turned too meek and raspy to cry. She was trapped in a whirlwind of silent torment. 

Mira pushed Zoey behind her with a cautious, shaky hand. Her moon sword was drawn and reluctantly pointed in their friend’s direction.

Their friend who had demon patterns sprouting all along her skin. Their friend who, when she frantically looked up at them, had a pair of golden eyes with slitted pupils.

“Zoey- Mira…” Rumi rasped out, clawed hands thrusting her body up to unsteady, taloned feet. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“You have patterns,” Mira whispered as her entire body trembled. Zoey grabbed onto her arm, stabilizing her.

Rumi stumbled forward. “No! No- I mean- They were supposed to be gone!” she tried to yell, but her voice broke with each attempt.

The realization dawned on them at the same time as Rumi’s words sank in. Mira’s fiery anger reared its ugly head. “You were hiding this from us.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Rumi pleaded. 

Breathing became harder as the air in the room chilled. Zoey cast her gaze down to the floor, letting go of Mira’s arm. How long was Rumi hiding this from them? Long enough, because Jinu knew. Before her oldest friends, she told her enemy.

Zoey bit down on her lip. “You told Jinu before us?” she asked, her voice sounding distant and muffled.

“How do you- NO. I never told him. He found out,” Rumi tried to explain as her frustration built. Her clawed hands slowly curled in. “I can fix this-” 

“Oh really? A demon knew. You let a demon know before you let us know, Rumi,” Mira snarled. Her face grew warm with rage that threw a cloak over her true feelings—the despair of being betrayed. 

“I didn’t want him to know!” Rumi roared, demon power infused in her every word. They threw their hands over their ears at the intensity of the sound.

The Honmoon shuddered under their feet, groaning as if it had taken a blow. They all stopped dead in their argument, eyes glued to the floor. It was still gold. 

Zoey was the first to look back at her friends, to behold Mira’s rage as it spilled like smoke from her nostrils and Rumi’s crushed state. Her heart squeezed so hard she thought the blood would drain from her body. The Honmoon whined beneath her feet as she broke from her motionlessness and ran forward. She threw her arms around Rumi’s hunched back and buried her face in her shoulder—her nose pressed right up against a glowing demon mark.

“Please, please let’s not fight,” Zoey begged, holding onto Rumi so tight so she wouldn’t fall apart. She knew what it felt like to hide pieces of herself, and her hidden pieces were nowhere near as big as Rumi's. “It must have been lonely.” 

An entire lifetime of hiding and shame slammed into Rumi’s gut and twisted her body forward. Her hands shook as she returned the embrace, squeezing her eyes shut as tears bubbled their way down her cheeks. She was sure Zoey felt the claws against her back, and yet the dark-haired Hunter stood firm. She cried silently, but for the first time in a week, they were tears of relief.

A third pair of arms joined them. Mira rested her head against Rumi’s unwashed hair, undeterred by the grease and the neglect Rumi subjected it to. It could be fixed- They could be fixed. The tallest member closed her tired eyes and followed them as the trio sank to the ground.

Together.

Even though sunrise was hours away, the three broken girls knew they’d get no sleep tonight. Mira sat Rumi down on the tiled bathroom floor and gently washed and brushed out her long hair while Zoey got some food ready for the three of them. It had to be done in sections because of how long it was, but Mira was patient, and Rumi was too tired to go anywhere. 

Zoey came in while Mira was detangling Rumi’s hair with a comb, bringing with her a fresh set of clothes and Rumi’s favorite ramyeon. She sat down on a stool across from her and carefully brought the noodles to her lips. There was no way Rumi was feeding herself in her current state. Zoey wondered if she had eaten any of the meals Mira prepared.

It didn’t matter anymore, she was eating now. 

When they were done, Mira and Zoey waited for her in the living room.

She came in like a whisper—a ghost in choo choo train pajamas and demon patterns. At least her eyes were back to normal. Rumi took a seat on their white couch and looked to her friends with teary eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she gulped. “I should’ve told you.”

Mira was the first to speak up after a comfortable silence. “It’s nothing now.”

“So, how long have you had… patterns?” Zoey asked, bringing her tea up to her nose. Warm steam fanned against her face. 

“Forever,” Rumi admitted quietly. She shuffled herself further into the pillows. “Celine said my dad was a demon. I was born with these patterns, but they weren’t always so… prominent.”

Mira frowned. “You thought sealing the Honmoon would get rid of them?”

“Yes. I didn’t want anyone to find out, I just wanted them gone. The Honmoon was supposed to take them away with the demons.” 

“Yeah… about that. We have a problem,” Zoey winced as she mentally prepared to tell them. She tapped the tips of her fingers against her cup and said, “the Saja Boys aren’t gone.”

~~🐢~~🐢~~

The Hunter was an enchantress in disguise, with powers strong enough to go up against Gwi-Ma. He still felt the burn of her warm skin against his palms.

Mystery sat atop their hideout—an abandoned apartment complex hours away from the city. He spent much of his time this week analyzing the scent of the breeze or locked away in deep thought on how colorful the world had become in just a few centuries. Essentially, Mystery sat around and did nothing.

For the first time, he was the commander of his own time.

Mostly. Jinu still acted as their leader and Mystery was thankful for it. Abby and Romance were in a frenzy over their demon forms. The older a demon is, the more animalistic they become in appearance. Those that sold their souls to Gwi-Ma are particularly susceptible to growing panicked over the gradual transformation. 

Mystery was an outlier in that case. He thought it had to do with his lack of memories being human—a mistake Gwi-Ma refused to make twice. Large tusks, clawed hands, and elongated, furry ears had little impact on him when they happened. He wouldn’t have minded their appearance now, but fate and his own curiosity unknowingly caused him to avoid losing total control.

The Honmoon whined beneath his hands, thick golden coils stretching and straining under a distant threat. That Hunter, Zoey, must’ve found her way back to the tower. He hummed and plucked at the Honmoon threads like they were bipa strings, waiting patiently for them to snap. 

Mystery angled his face up, moonlight dancing with the markings on his skin. The urge to let his heavy eyes close overcame him, but the demon had to fight back. He knew the Hunter’s spell was still too potent. All he could see was her black hair, lightly twisting on itself in the absence of her braided pigtails. 

He thought only Gwi-Ma possessed the ability to deliver powerful hallucinations, and yet Mystery could still smell her. 

The stress on the golden thread crested and then stilled—a wave passing over a peaceful reef. Mystery’s gaze slowly moved to it as he removed his clawed hand. 

It seemed Zoey’s spell extended to her friends too. 

Mystery had no doubt it was the smallest hunter that accepted Rumi first. The other one—Mara?—was too hot-headed to de-escalate the situation. Jinu’s master plan had failed. Huntr/x were nothing if not persistent. The demon sighed as he teleported back inside the abandoned building.

The moment Abby’s claws wrapped around his collar was the moment Mystery regretted coming back. Or maybe that was earlier, he couldn’t care to remember. His hand flew up in response and pulled hard on Abby’s elbow so the demon couldn’t lift him off the floor. 

Demons couldn’t die due to suffocation, but that doesn’t mean oxygen deprivation felt nice. 

“Knock it off!” Jinu yelled, eyes glowing a dangerous, intense gold. He practically carved ravines in the ground from his endless pacing. Now that they’ve distracted him from it, Jinu’s jittery attention turned to well-placed anger.

Abby huffed but let him go, stout purple ears twitching. “Sorry, thought you were trouble,” he growled. 

Mystery would’ve rolled his eyes, but they wouldn’t be able to see it anyway. He stayed silent, drifting passed them like a ghost and taking a seat on what could’ve been a kitchen counter. They didn’t get to sit in the demon world. 

Mystery liked sitting.

“The stupid plan didn’t work,” Baby pointed out the obvious with a shrug. “I say we-”

“No. It worked. The Honmoon is closely tied to the girls’ friendship.” Jinu was too quick to interrupt. The Saja Boys caught on quick to Jinu’s infatuation with Rumi, but Mystery wondered if the rest of them realized how deep it went. If he was so against killing her just to avoid his own demise, it must’ve been more serious than they thought.

He wasn’t one to talk. Mystery didn’t want to kill the Hunters either, but his reasoning stemmed from a deep rooted emotional absence. He simply didn’t care. Either the Saja Boys killed them now, or when the Honmoon breaks, Gwi-Ma will steal their souls himself.

Two of their souls, anyway. 

“Showing them Rumi’s secrets wasn’t successful, Jinu,” Romance pointed out.

“Their doubt weakened the Honmoon. Briefly, but that’s all we need.” He ran a frantic hand through his hair. “If just one moment could break it, then we need to find that moment.”

“That sounds tedious. Tedious and slow. ” Baby pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on and approached Jinu leisurely, tauntingly. “I’m not starving for a couple girls, Jinu.”

Jinu’s eyes reminded Mystery of the Hunter’s golden throwing knives in the way they narrowed on Baby. “No one is starving.”

“I’m with-” Romance nearly vomited just uttering the name. It wasn’t exactly pleasing to say. “-Baby on this one. Maybe going after the fans can work again?”

“If you want to scare them off, go right ahead,” Abby muttered. He poked at his aching elbow and curled himself into a corner. Mystery almost felt bad about it. 

Almost.

“Killing the Hunters would be the fastest option.”

Mystery watched them squabble and argue, mostly Jinu and Baby. The latter had a bloodthirst that wasn’t uncommon for a demon, but one that Jinu didn’t share. The demon did wonder if Jinu’s plan was to die—free from Gwi-Ma’s torment for all eternity—but he couldn’t imagine how that would serve Jinu in the end. He didn’t want to die—he wanted to be free.

An unachievable, foolish desire. 

“The Honmoon has new rules now that it’s sealed. One of us at least will be hurt in a fight with the Hunters. We can’t be sure that it would send us back to Gwi-Ma or just kill us outright. Is death better than starving, Baby?” Jinu countered.

“Same outcome in the end, isn’t it?”

Mystery figured it was about time to speak up. “We can make a song in our demon forms. Pretend it’s just for show.”

Abby seemed to perk up at the thought. “If the song focuses on the fans’ desires, they might overlook anything too outlandish.”

“Or they’ll revere anything outlandish. Humans have questionable taste,” Baby added. 

Jinu crossed his arms in thought. “Writing a new song will take time. Less than our earlier idea, though.”

“But we don’t have Gwi-Ma to help us make a show.” Romance bit at his claws. “We would actually need a producer.”

“Huntr/x has a producer!” Abby clapped, his feet shuffling as a new energy fueled his tired bones. 

“If Mystery gets close to Bobby, I don’t anticipate any problems with him accepting our pitch,” Jinu confirmed. His body grew controlled once more, back into the form they recognized him in the most—cold, selfish, and calculated. “You’ll continue your first mission as well. We can find the Hunters’ weak point while planning our comeback.”

“Are we sure the Hunters will even talk to him? There’s no surprise factor anymore, they’ll be wary,” Baby droned. His round gold eyes finally landed on the oldest demon but they were so bored he felt uncomfortable being in their spotlight.

Baby was the one who had the most to say after they realized what Mystery had done to remain in his human disguise. 

Mystery just shrugged, not giving Baby the reaction he so deeply craved. Fear. “One of them will. I have half her soul.”

The bloodthirsty demon just laughed—dry and empty as hollowed bones. 

“Gwi-Ma will love to hear you explain that.”

Chapter Text

Apparently, it was just as hard to find five demon boys in a post-Golden Honmoon world as in the pre-Golden Honmoon world. Zoey flopped back on her pillows with a sigh and stretched her arms high above her head like a cat. She’s been down every rabbit hole, every conspiracy theory, and practically every “sighting” video on the internet in search of where the Saja Boys could be. Nothing, every day nothing.

There were only three more days left of their hiatus, and not once had they gone to the bathhouse, thanks to their constant surveillance of both the web and the streets. 

Speaking of patrolling the streets, Mira’s voice rumbled around in her head as she planned out with Rumi where they’d go next. Zoey readjusted the earpiece so the thunderous rumble turned into a comfortable whisper. She glumly returned to her laptop and updated their city map.

And just for good measure, she put a grumpy face emoji over the red-colored street where her friends’ icons stood. 

“We’re sorry Zoey.” Rumi’s voice was doing better, but she still sounded so small compared to the usual fullness her voice had. It sounded like a big, scary dog—like a pitbull!—whining while giving its owner the biggest puppy eyes they’ve ever seen.

“I feel like my eyes are gonna melt staring at the walls of my room!”

“You could go sit in my room,” Mira suggested. 

Zoey pouted and turned Mira’s pretty bird icon into a green troll. “We are a trio! We should all be out there together.”

Even though she knew the reasons they left her at the tower, a tiny devil on her shoulder whispered her deepest insecurities in her ear. She tried to fight it off on her own—Huntr/x was being tactical! They were sure Mystery would return and go after Zoey again, so she had to stay in a place with plenty of surfaces—if she got tossed against a wall she could easily call on her knives that way. Plus, Mira and Rumi were like two old ladies when it came to social media.

But they could do it, and they could get anyone else to do it. They could pay a whole team of people to finish their search in three hours and sign an NDA just for good measure. In the end, Zoey was sitting in her room being expendable. 

“Zoey, you’re home because we rely on you.” Mira’s reminder was simple, her deep voice softening to deliver the message. 

It was exactly what Zoey needed. She was needed. She took a deep breath, letting her eyes close on the inhale, and released her anxiety with it. Focus, Zoey.

“Right!” Zoey cheered, pumping her fist in the air. “Ok, let’s see… if we can’t find where the boys are now , what if we look at when they were seen last?” 

Rumi’s icon seemed to perk up as her mic activated. “Eleven days ago?”

The dark-haired Hunter was already typing away a command into her browser, hoping to find pings across multiple social media. “Yes! Chances are, they were caught off guard with the golden Honmoon!”

And if they were caught off guard, five suddenly purple-skinned men would be easy to catch.

After trying a fair number of buzz words—Saja Boys, teleport, strange men, unexplainable smoke, and twenty more—one finally grabbed a grainy, five-second video. Three figures stumbled out from behind a building abutting a lake. One of them fell onto their knees, grabbing at some mysterious growth coming from their head. Then they were all gone, just like that. 

“There you are,” Zoey sang. Her lips pulled up into a smug grin, those soft brown eyes turning coy. “Now, tell me where to find you.”

She had just located the video owner’s address and marked it on their map when the Honmoon turned pink around her laptop. The color rippled in waves, just like that night. Zoey knew he couldn’t see her, it was impossible from all the way on the balcony, and yet she felt his gaze on her face and arms. It was a gentle heat dusting along her skin, moving its way down slow. She believed he was analyzing her again- But he couldn’t see her. 

Zoey had to make the first move. She ignored Rumi and Mira’s calls for her and carefully uncrossed her toned legs. The Hunter didn’t bother to quiet her footsteps as she approached her balcony door. Her hand grazed over her blanket, igniting the golden threads that protected their fragile world. 

Not a moment too soon.

Purple smoke clouded her vision, and hands clasped around her shoulders in seconds. He would’ve teleported immediately just as before, taken her by surprise, but she was quicker. A sharp point pressed against his stomach. The whirr of the Honmoon through her weapon was enough to make him dizzy, even without breaking his skin.

“If you teleport, I’ll drive this through you,” Zoey promised, keeping her wrist as steady as possible by using her lower back to anchor her arm. The positioning wasn’t ideal to drive the blade into his body so she’d need the added support if worse came to be.

Enchantress has a bite to her, Mystery thought. 

He had no other choice but to comply with her wishes. The demon cautiously removed his hands from her shoulders, stepping back only once he was sure she wouldn’t panic and slice at him.

“Zoey, we’re coming. Stay calm, we’ll be right there,” Rumi spoke into her earpiece. The dark-haired Hunter was spared a moment of panic when she remembered she still had her hair down—wavy black locks framing her angular face and hiding away her ears.

She raised one knife as she turned around to face Mystery, pointing it at his covered eyes. “No moving. You stay right there.”

He was as still as a statue. Mira responded, “We hear you. Be safe. Remember the plan.”

The plan—gather information, manipulate Mystery into trusting you, kill if necessary.

Zoey didn’t like the last part of the plan, but she supposed the duty came with the job. She shifted a little closer to the obedient demon and let her hands cautiously lower her knives. He didn’t have to listen to a word she said- Well, the knives might’ve made it hard not to, but Zoey has fought many demons before that didn’t think twice.

“Why did you come back?”

Are you who I hear in my dreams?

“I wanted…” Mystery’s voice died in his throat. The script Romance drilled into his mind burned away like a dry leaf, and Mystery held the match that lit the flame. He couldn’t do it—the language was downright ludicrous. Not to mention…

I wanted to tell you, Zoey, your eyes are the balm to my suffering. Your raven hair is the only soft caress I should ever need, your lips the only meal I wish to consume. My heart is yours, let your soul be mine.

“I wanted to learn,” he decided, rightfully so, that the script needed some improvising, “about turtles.” 

Her knives disappeared from her hands as she straightened out—the top of her head would’ve brushed up against his chin if she stood closer. Zoey’s head tilted curiously, her hair following the motion like currents of black water. He knew the moment her face scrunched up that she had cast her spell yet again.

“Turtles?” Zoey asked.

“Turtles.” Mystery felt a smile tug on his lips as triumph jipped through his body. 

She was trying not to let her guard down, but that little smile did wonders to his face. Even with the purple skin and demon patterns. “I don’t understand. You want me, a Hunter, to teach you-”

“A demon,” he added helpfully.

“-yes, thank you, about turtles. You want to learn about turtles,” she had to repeat that last bit just for good measure, because this entire conversation made no sense.

Mystery nodded but he knew she wasn’t fully there yet. Her shoulders were still tense—her hands still curled up whenever she wasn’t using them to make her point. He had to say something that brought out the bubbles and jumping in her. Something emotional, like how the casual, flirty lyrics of Soda Pop got the Hunter’s shoulders moving with the beat.

Except, Mystery couldn’t really do flirty. He could barely handle casual. Maybe something she could view as sad would work.

“I’ve never seen a real turtle.”

That did it.

“WHAT?” Her hands flew up to her head and he swore she nearly jumped from the shock.

“Zoey,” Mira and Rumi sighed playfully as they heard her shuffling to get him to sit down on her purple beanbag cushion. There was absolutely no stopping her now. Zoey couldn’t imagine living her entire life without extensive knowledge on her favorite ocean animal.

She fiddled with her TV cables while rambling to him about random facts—a mixture of the true and “myth busted” ones of course. “You have to know that some of these videos will talk about turtles being able to leave their shells but that’s just not true their shell is a part of their skeleton which ALSO means they can actually feel everything that’s touching them and their shell because there’s a tonnn of nerve endings there,” she rambled.

And he just listened.

Mystery had no idea how to react, but Zoey didn’t give him many opportunities to. When one train of thought ended, she was reminded of another and picked her turtle lecture right back up. Mystery was grateful for it, he didn’t have to scramble to think of any responses and could just take in the sound of her voice.

He could see why she was the group’s rapper, quick witted, quick tongued, and with a voice that matched her speed. But with the melodic way she spoke, he wondered why they didn’t have her sing solos more often.

Zoey plopped down in the beanbag cushion next to him—this one was blue, and he thought the color suited her. Mystery had to remind himself that she couldn’t see his eyes when she turned to look at him—a mischievous look on her face and remote in her hands.

“I believe this is about 700 or 800 two-second videos all about turtles.” Zoey blinked, slowing down as she realized exactly what she was doing. It was a bit late to turn back, and Mystery did let her sit him down. As if he wasn’t a dangerous demon man who was probably as old as rocks. 

Maybe if she just treated him as a friend, part two of the plan would go by smoothly. To make up for her obvious hesitation, Zoey quickly thought of a question to ask. “How long do you have?”

“I can go all night, Zoey.”

If she had water, Mystery would've drowned. Zoey couldn’t even formulate a response and thankfully she was too busy coughing because the gasp managed to travel backwards into her throat. Only she could possibly suffocate on air.

Mystery crossed his hands over his body, immediately suspicious. “What?”

“Do you even know what that means?”

He was gonna strangle Abby. “No.”

“It’s like… sexual,” Zoey explained carefully.

Scratch that, by the time he was done with Abby, some twisted yarn-lover could crochet with his dead body. “How do I say I don’t have a time limit,” he gritted out, tapping his fingers against his biceps.

“Maybe just say that,” she laughed. Zoey saved him the extra embarrassment by clicking play on her video compilation. She snuggled back into her beanbag, occasionally glancing over at him. 

He was actually watching.

When they finished that one, he wanted another. She showed him all her video compilations, sorted by habitat and subsorted by animals. He picked sharks next. They barely scratched the surface of marine life when Zoey’s eyes started growing heavy. She fought valiantly until 2:00 AM lulled its way into her periphery. 

And she fell asleep with a demon in her room.

Chapter Text

Mystery was in paradise. 

Striking blues, purples, and yellows swam through his mind and rotated in cheerful ringlets. He floated in the depths with the dangerous creatures as they flowed wherever the ocean current took them. Their long, frilly tentacles moved in perfect unison as their glowing, spongy heads lit up the darkness. In their own, mystical way, they had patterns just like him.

He remembered plenty of missions for Gwi-Ma out at sea—wild water was the easiest to tear apart for the lesser demons to pass through. They were stormy, dreary nights that offered nothing but a dull sense of cold, darkness, and fear. Never could Mystery have imagined this type of beauty twirled beneath the surface. 

In just one stupid moment of weakness, Mystery glanced at the Hunter sitting beside him. He couldn’t explain the blip of caring that fueled this minor movement. For that bright second, he really wanted to see her reaction to the jellyfish; to know if her eyes were wide with wonder too. 

The demon flinched at the thought, even without Gwi-Ma’s influence. Just the memory of what this mistake could lead to was pervasive enough.

Zoey was dead asleep—she had been for quite some time now. The site she used to compile clips from around the internet had an autoplay feature she never bothered to turn off.

His heart hurt, realizing how vulnerable she looked. Half a soul glowing a gentle blue as she dreamed, her legs folded against her chest like… like a turtle tucking its limbs into its shell. Her marine life pajamas were rolled up from her shifting to find a comfortable position, dark hair fanned around her head like a halo.

If he killed her now, it would be quick and painless. Everything would be made simple again. The Honmoon would shatter, the rest of her soul would be his, and Gwi-Ma would kill him anyway for disobeying the moment he found out Mystery claimed a soul.

He might not get another chance like this.

But he couldn’t do it—not like this. She was too… unarmed.

She didn’t kill him when she could’ve earlier, and Mystery was more than willing to return the favor.

His movements were quiet as a whisper when the demon crouched before her, concealed eyes taking in her every breath. She kept trying to curl herself inward, tremors dancing along her body. When he carefully shuffled closer, he saw how the hairs on her arms were raised. It took him a minute to remember what that meant.

Zoey was cold.

He should wake her, or should he just leave? This entire situation was so foreign to Mystery. For many reasons, the main one being that he was a DEMON. Demons didn’t do sitting in a Hunter’s room watching her fascinating animal compilations and dealing with her falling asleep midway through. 

And how could a Hunter fall asleep in random locations with a demon! She should know better than anyone how dangerous it was. Any other demon wouldn’t have thought twice about killing her.

Lucky woman , he thought and sighed quietly. Mystery didn’t want to move her back to the bed and risk her waking up. He wouldn’t survive the embarrassment, and he wasn’t begging to meet Gwi-Ma any sooner than he had to.

He grabbed a neatly folded blanket from the cushions beside the bed and gave the turtle a real shell to hide herself away in. She let out a pleased breath as her limbs relaxed, her feet popping out at the end of the blanket. Mystery had to hold back a snort.

Mismatched turtle socks.

He tried not to think of it as he tucked the blanket in under her feet, turned off the television, and surveyed his work. Zoey’s face nearly disappeared under her warm shell—all that remained visible to the world was a nose and one gently closed eye.

She wouldn’t be going cold anytime soon.

~~🐢~~🐢~~

Warm light peppered kisses against her face as it filtered through her balcony glass, a soft wakeup call from a peaceful, kind world. Zoey yawned and stretched her way to sitting. She rubbed her eyes as her blanket fell from her shoulder, covering her remote that still lay on the floor.

Wait a minute-

Zoey’s head snapped to the side only to find Mystery’s beanbag cushion empty. She checked her pulse, pinched herself, and tried holding her breath until her lungs gave out to make sure she wasn’t dead.

“Huh…” she thought out loud, hissing quietly when her warm socks touched the cold floor. She picked up the blanket and folded it as she walked up to her closed balcony, her eyes aimlessly wandering the rooftops as if he might be there. 

The Hunter shook her head and placed her blanket where it belonged. There was something warm and deadly happening in her heart. It could’ve been a ploy—the burning pink fire in her nightmares luring her to her death—but she couldn’t help but smile. 

She picked up her remote next, bringing the TV back to life with a chime. It took a second for the machine to update its clock feature, which informed her it had shut off at 4:31 AM. It started right where it left off, playing the last strands of her jellyfish compilations. 

Mystery couldn't have been watching these. Could he? The image in her mind—a demon crisscross on a purple beanbag watching turtles, sharks, orcas, and jellyfish swim by on screen while she slept peacefully—made the corners of her eyes crinkle as a smile lit up her face. Maybe he was more jellyfish than demon, drifting on his own current.

Zoey brushed her hair behind her ear, gasping quietly as she felt the cool headphone still in its place. The friendly morning shattered and left behind a dry skeleton of itself. 

“Rumi? Mira?” Zoey spoke into the earpiece, rushing to her computer. She never input her login so fast in her life. Her fingers flew across her keyboard as she brought up the tracking map site they used last night. 

Their icons were gone, and microphones were disabled.

Maybe they came home and didn’t want to wake her. They probably saw she was fast asleep and wanted to leave anything serious for the morning hours. But why would they leave her on the cushions? There’d been plenty of times where Rumi helped her into bed, particularly on the grueling weeks of lyric writing. 

Holding onto hope—the only wire keeping her from falling into a dark ravine—Zoey ran out of her room and dashed down the hall to Mira’s. Her name dried up on her tongue as she flung open the door to a vacant, dark bedroom.

Her stomach twisted, her legs pulling her back into motion toward Rumi’s bedroom, only to find empty beds and quiet walls. Before she knew it, she was racing back to her room, back to her computer, back to where she could find her friends’ last known location. Something was very, very wrong.

The last ping was from a riverside at 1:24 AM, before Zoey had gone to sleep. Her stomach sloshed as fear sent her mind spiraling. Zoey couldn’t afford to wait. She threw herself at her closet, tying up her loose hair and tossing on the closest disguise she could find.

It took her an hour to get there, even with her enhanced strength thanks to training and the powers of the Honmoon. She was particularly thankful for its cloaking ability—even the most phone-distracted city goer would lift their gaze to a woman zooming by them. It was lifesaving at the worst of times and convenient during the best of them.

Zoey leapt down the mossy stone wall to the riverbank, and the world’s overwhelming noise dimmed to a low buzz somewhere above her head. It was a quiet scene, a wide trickle of water surrounded by greenery and a small dirt path. Her hand brushed against a bush leaf and ignited the Honmoon around her. It cloaked the shallow current with a web of gold and glittered in the morning sunlight as the water meandered along.

Zoey’s agile feet followed the dirt path, her alert gaze sweeping over the landscape like a sonar. Even with her six knives clutched in her fists, Zoey jumped at every odd sunbeam reflecting from the tiny river waves. There was an eerie silence surrounding the river that kept her firmly planting each step. 

The leafy trees didn’t sway, the dirt made no noise against her footsteps, the wind she felt against her cheeks never touched her hair. Even the sun seemed to shy away from the leafy canopies. 

“Feels like the perfect ambush,” Zoey joked, though it came out more seriously than she intended. 

A leaf rustled behind her.

Zoey spun around and sliced through the pale green demon’s skin, its extended claws barely passing over her cheek. It shriveled up in purple like burning paper and thudded against the ground as a leathery magenta corpse. She didn’t have time to stare in horror.

The wolves drew out from their shadowy dens. Hungry gold eyes peeked out from behind wet black hair that clung to the demons' green skin like fur. They licked their lips with long, misshapen tongues.

Zoey laughed, mentally keeping a count of them. Fourteen. “Oh good, water demons.” She rolled her head around on her neck, freeing up her joints for quick movement. There was an exhilaration in fighting that she was seriously lacking in her idol life. “Aren’t you homesick?” 

They lunged at her, fast bodies becoming a blur of black and sickly green. She sacrificed four of her knives as she jumped to her left toward the fastest demon. It was during a fight that she realized the loyalty of her own body—strong legs that lifted her off the ground up to the demon’s throat, powerful arms that sliced through the three incoming ones behind them as she swung herself around by the demon’s neck. She twisted with her upper body so the demon would fall on its back and released her knees to free her legs before impact. 

It was dead before it hit the ground, and Zoey landed in a crouch, ready to pounce at the next attack. She recalled her knives as all six remaining demons fell on her, their sharp claws gleaming in the sunlight. Pushing herself backward in a low jump, Zoey threw her six knives. 

To kill her, the demons needed overwhelming strength and fatal blows. To kill a demon, Zoey just needed one scratch.

Her knives made their home inside the demons’ chests, ending their lives in a second of burning pain. All knives except one.

It collapsed on top of her with its giant mouth stretched wide open. Needle-sharp teeth buried themselves into her arm as she took the entire weight of the demon’s fall. Zoey gritted her teeth, scream muffled as the demon grabbed at her hair. She was sure it would pull her skin right off her scalp.

The demon didn’t get enough time, not before Zoey’s knife teleported back into her left hand and she drove it into its stomach. Blinding pain turned into a pulsating ache as the last water demon shriveled up like the rest of its pack.

Only one problem, it was still holding onto her. 

Zoey whimpered as she pulled her arm from the demon’s mouth. Thankfully, its teeth became fragile strips of skin. The same couldn’t be said about the hand in her hair. She flipped them around and closed her eyes tightly. She couldn’t start crying now or else she wouldn’t stop.

This wasn’t normal. Demons didn’t have dead bodies; they just disappeared in a shimmering, fizzy purple mist. That way, she could bear it—killing them and sending them back to the dark realm where they belong. 

This felt violent .

Zoey couldn’t stop the tears now, cracking the corpse’s leathery skin wildly as she tore her hair from its grasp. She was screaming, sobbing, and thrashing, falling backward in the dirt when she realized these demons had blood. Blood that was staining her clothes, her arms, her hair-

“Zoey!” 

Chapter Text

She rolled over just in time, another water demon’s claws burying themselves into the dirt where her head lay seconds ago. Zoey’s body summoned and threw her knives without the deadly hesitation of her thoughts. In the heat of the fight, it didn’t matter who was on the other end of her blade.

Zoey was a trained Hunter and falling to the lowest level of her training was to fight for her life.

“Behind you!” Zoey warned, and Mira spun out of the way, her moon blade twisting with her momentum to slice the demon right down the center.

The pack cascaded down the tall, mossy walls and shattered like teardrops against the stocky trees. They tore up grass and roots as they crashed down on the dirt path, turning the pretty morning world into a dusty haze.

Zoey and Mira moved without thought, their backs colliding as their golden weapons flew up to an offensive position. The Hunters fought like it was second nature—born into a flurry of dust, blades, and footwork. They spun around each other, the choreography of their fight intrinsically tied to their weapons of choice. Mira—fiery and strong—sliced and stabbed at close range with her moon blade while Zoey—lithe and controlled—took down those demons that were either too close or too far. 

They lacked one essential piece to their team. Rumi. Rumi—driven and exact—who fought with a slender golden sword, had the advantage of a weapon for offense and defense. 

Zoey couldn’t block attacks with her knives the way Rumi could at close range, and Mira couldn’t attack once demons got inside the reach of her moon sword.

“Where’s Rumi!?” the short Hunter shouted as her knives found their homes in demon throats.

Mira grunted as she tossed a demon off the handle of her moon sword, Zoey’s knife flying through the air to finish it off. The pink-haired Hunter was already in motion to recreate their safety bubble with a long slash of her blade. “She’s in the water! The Honmoon is protecting her!”

Zoey’s eyes flitted to the water before she was thrown back into the heat of the fight. “What do you mean?”

“It’s formed a barrier around her!” Mira yelled as she spun on her heels to protect Zoey from an attack behind her. “It’s only letting her head out of the water!”

“But not you?!”

“No!” 

Zoey yelped as a demon’s claw slashed at her arm, her knife driving into its eye before quickly pulling back to attack the next one. They were losing ground—the demons overwhelming them with sheer numbers.

There was no way around it; the Hunters had to retreat. Zoey’s desperate eyes fell back on the water. “Did it let you in!?”

Mira must’ve realized the implication of what Zoey was asking, because without an answer, she started backing up toward the water. “GO!”

The water was cold and lapped at Zoey’s thighs. Their hasty retreat turned deadly quicker than they expected—their mobility reduced with their legs submerged. The Hunters scrambled to get under as the water demons skittered on the top of the Honmoon, forever banished from their preferred arena.

Mira’s height betrayed her as her knees stuck out from the water for a second too long when she submerged her head. Long, sharp claws embedded themselves in her skin, and a demon arm tugged at her so roughly that her head snapped back. Zoey froze, watching her friend, the closest person she had to a sister, beating with her fists at the underside of their golden protector.

The Honmoon wouldn’t open for demons. It was drowning her unknowingly as it tried to fight the demon that was tearing through her flesh. 

Zoey dove under the water, reaching them quickly with the river current's help. She flung herself out of the water and slashed the demon's arm clean off, quick fingers pulling the claws from Mira's body simultaneously. Mira's body was swiftly swept under the water into safety, but Zoey was too vulnerable with half her body tasting fresh air. The entire pack crashed down on her at once. There was nothing left to do.

Her upper body thudded against the Honmoon, kept torturously in place by the barrier. Claws, weight, and a skitter of laughter were all she knew as she pressed her eyes shut. 

“Hungry…” the demons rasped as one of their hollow maws opened. The water demon's odorous breath fanned against her drenched shoulders and grew cold as it began to feast.

Her soul shook violently, holding onto her ribcage to resist the pull. It was just like Zoey’s nightmares—a searing pain followed by the sense of being torn. 

~~🐢~~🐢~~

“I don’t like this game.”

“Don’t care. Pay up, loser,” Baby chuckled, extending his hand for Abby’s money. 

They were playing some human game called Monopoly, and it turned out Baby was a bureaucratic mastermind. While the rest of them were racing for expensive lots, he filled in his one-sided empire and was now draining their money one roll at a time.

Romance huffed as Abby paid what he owed the tyrant. All that was left were two purple tens. “How do humans not kill each other playing such infuriating games?” he mused, having nothing else to do but watch. He already went bankrupt five rounds ago.

“I’m surprised Gwi-Ma hasn’t taken them over yet,” Jinu agreed, already preparing Baby’s money as he rolled the dice. As expected, he had to pay up.

Then it was Mystery’s turn.

He sighed, rolled the dice, and cringed as it told him to land on Baby’s most expensive lot. If he didn’t know Baby’s powers were gone, he would’ve accused him of cheating. He was still considering it, just seeing that smug twinkle in the short demon’s eye.

Mystery counted his debt with precise fingers. The demons watched as a jolt flew up Mystery’s arm, like someone had injected him with a drug that shot his heart rate into the ocean depths. A rumbling, dark feeling flooded his system and froze him right in his place.

Even Baby withdrew his extended hand—spurred by the ever stark reminder of Abby’s black eye. Mystery sprang on him when he returned in the early morning hours, fueled by anger at what he perceived to be Abby meddling in their plan.

This feeling was not anger.

The sharp bite of possession had him snarling. His tusks grew into place, the demon’s body curling over the fake money before it realized its insignificance. He slid away from the board and straightened to his full height, tossing the colored paper aside as he scanned his surroundings. 

This wasn’t what he was after—not who he was after. The ghost of her scent attacked his senses, so potent that it got him gasping through parted lips. He swore he heard her bright voice ringing in his ears.

Romance bit at his claws nervously. “Uh, Jinu? What’s up with him?”

“How am I supposed to know?” he sighed, but stood up from his seat. Jinu was careful, approaching the heavy-breathing, possibly high demon with slow, deliberate steps.

“You’re like- the boss,” Abby pointed out.

He waved him off and hissed out, “Doesn’t mean I can read your mind!”

“Yeah, only the biiiig boss can do that,” Baby laughed. 

Mystery’s glowing eyes peeked out from behind his thick, pale bangs, locking on their target instantly. He saw the sarcastic comment as a direct threat—the implication that Gwi-Ma still had the ultimate claim on souls only spurred on his possession. “Shut. Up,” he snarled out.

“Mystery, take a walk or something." Jinu provided him with an out and carefully placed a hand on his shoulder. He knew it was risky, but he needed a quick way to contain the demon under the ever-growing chance that he would make a stab at Baby. 

Except, the feeling washed itself away as quickly as it came. Mystery’s tusks retracted back to small fangs, and his body eased back into its usual apathetic slouch. The boys watched him carefully as he shrugged Jinu’s hand off with a frown.

Romance spoke first.

“So, does this mean we restart the game?” 

~~🐢~~🐢~~

Rumi’s long braid swung through the air as her body twisted to give her sword the most momentum. She huffed through the pain shooting down her injured legs, driven by the intense protective instinct in her soul. Her glowing patterns sent purple veins of light twisting in the river.

The demons didn’t anticipate her return, and that was their downfall. Piled up in one place with their backs turned made them vulnerable to a quick and painful end. Most were too late to retaliate against her surprise attack, shriveling up before her eyes. Those that leapt away didn’t last much longer once Mira resurfaced from the water with a taste for demon blood.

Zoey quietly slipped under the Honmoon, her soul still safely contained in her body. She desperately tried to regain her breath, water flooding her mouth and blurring her vision. She was probably imagining it, but the river felt as deep as an ocean. Her tears mixed with it as her eyelids became heavy, blackout curtains. Her blood turned to heavy stones that pulled her deeper and deeper.

Somewhere in the dark, there were jellyfish.

Rumi’s strong arms yanked her body out of delirium. Like a train ramming into her consciousness, Zoey slammed herself back in the metaphorical driver’s seat. Her lungs cleared themselves of water, and her heart drummed in her chest with a new fire. She was alive.

“Are you ok?!” Rumi’s powerful voice blared in her ears. She slashed at the last demon that dared attack them with one arm, the other keeping a tight grip on her sister.

Zoey stood on wobbly legs, but she stood. “Yes,” she rasped out, summoning her knives into her hands.

They weren’t needed in the end. Six remaining demons scampered away like scared dogs, leaving behind the bodies of their fallen kin. Huntr/x stood victorious, their chests rising and falling with heavy handfuls of air in the silent morning. The demon bodies floating around them on the Honmoon’s golden threads oozed through the barrier and disappeared like cotton candy in the river.

At least that solved their demon-corpse problem. 

“What are we gonna tell Bobby?” Zoey asked quietly. She and Rumi kept each other standing now, exhaustion stealing the last of their fighting spirit.

Mira limped over to them and threw her arms around their shoulders, embracing them softly and whispering, “We can figure that out later.”

Later came quicker than they expected.

The Hunters learned over thousands of years to be very self-sufficient. They always trained at least one of their members in basic medicine for times like this, as it was easier than making up elaborate stories for medical professionals. This generation didn’t have to teach them, Mira had already undergone several medical training camps. Her parents wanted her to carry on their legacy as a doctor, and money wasn’t a problem for them to lock her away to learn something she thought she’d never use. 

This didn’t mean she was grateful for her parents—any emotion to do with them was too complicated for her to shift through. It just meant… she was glad to help her family, her only real family. 

They would all carry scars from this day, not just the mental ones. 

Zoey’s arms got a large beating, with a clear bite wound and three deep gashes traveling down her forearms. The rest of her injuries ranged from minor scratches to purple, angry bruises. Her scars would be hidden from the cameras under arm warmers and carefully styled sleeves. 

Rumi’s scars would be much more challenging to work around. She suffered the worst of all of them.

A bite on her side, thankfully not deep enough to pierce through muscle and into her organs, was the bloodiest of her injuries. It was still dripping blood when they got back to the tower, wide tooth holes were swollen and red. The rest of her injuries included scattered claw marks along her legs and chest. There was another bite on her shoulder that Mira was sewing up now, careful not to pucker the skin too much—it would scar much worse if she did.

“What happened out there?” Zoey asked, pressing a melted ice pack to her head. Her headache was filtering back into her perception. She tried her best not to give it too much attention.

Rumi sipped her tea quietly, fighting sleep as she gathered her words. “We were on our way back to you. I wanted to take a quicker route along the riverside and search for the Saja Boys while we were at it.”

She winced as Mira tied off another stitch. “Sorry. It’s almost done,” the pink-haired Hunter said softly.

“They came out of the sewers, a whole swarm of them,” Rumi continued. “We were pushed down into the riverside ditch-thing. We fought all night. The earpieces got crushed somewhere there, I don’t know when, but we hoped you could hear us,” Rumi whispered. “Where… were you? Didn’t you notice we were gone?” 

Guilt was a rope tightly wound around Zoey’s neck. “I was asleep.”

Rumi’s face saddened, but she reached out to hold Zoey’s hand anyway. She knew what Zoey must be thinking. “It’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t hear you getting attacked before I fell asleep either. We can’t split up anymore; something had to have broken our connection before the ambush,” Zoey said, brushing off Rumi’s comforting words. She squeezed her hand and pulled a practiced smile onto her face. “We are Hunters.”

“Voices strong, slaying demons with our magic cool weapons and impeccable style,” Mira finished with a light tilt to her voice, imitating Celine. She gathered her materials into a biohazard bag and went to dispose of them, limping on her bandaged foot. 

Rumi just chuckled and shook her head. “You two,” she sighed. 

“Just lightening the mood,” Zoey hummed. She thanked Mira quietly as she got her a new ice pack. The fresh cold froze her pounding headache in its place and shattered it right there. “Ah, that's nice.” 

“The wonders of holistic medicine,” Mira joked sarcastically, handing one to Rumi before sitting down between her friends. “We’ve got bigger problems on our hands than the Saja Boys.”

“Yeah, we almost like… died…” 

The Honmoon whined. That simple action brought a question into Mira’s mind. “How did you get out, Rumi?”

“Right! You were trapped in the Honmoon.”

Rumi’s gaze went distant as she pulled herself back to that moment. The sound of demon claws screeching away, the cold water against her skin, the feeling that she was forever trapped in this river underneath gold. 

Like a demon.

“Well,” she snapped herself out of it. “I don’t know. I just yelled at it to let me go when I heard you screaming.”

“Good that you did. With all the demons on us like that, I couldn’t get out of the water to help Zoey,” Mira admitted. 

They sat in a sad silence for a moment, just listening to a light rain patter against the windows. “Why now?” Rumi asked, withdrawn as she leaned back into the cushions. “Why have they just now started attacking?”

“How do you know it’s just now?” Mira muttered, her deep voice grim. 

Rumi shook her head. “There was a missing person’s report two days ago. Two girls, but the police think they ran away.”

“They’re hungry now,” Zoey said with a gasp. Her whole body lifted with the realization, pumped up like a balloon with helium. “They’ve been cut off from Gwi-Ma, but they’re still demons. They need to eat souls, right? Maybe they thought they didn't anymore and are now realizing that's not the case!”

“I think you’re right. They must be why my patterns haven’t gone away.” Rumi looked down at her arms marred with reminders of her past. “There’s too many demons still on this side of the Honmoon. We need to kill them, once and for all.”

“Do you think…” Zoey’s voice trailed off, a jittery anxiety nipping at her heart. “Do you think the Saja Boys set up the ambush?”

Mira hummed and shook her head. “No. When we were defeated, they didn’t show up. I don’t think the demon boy band would want to waste a feast. They wouldn’t have let the water demons have our souls,” she mused.

For some reason, that made Zoey feel better. She didn’t fully understand why. 

“I’d go as far as to say the Saja Boys don’t know there are other demons in the world.”

The trio’s mood lit up immediately. “So we have the upper hand!” Zoey chirped.

“And we can use it to our advantage,” Mira agreed. “I bet Mystery is playing the same game we are, trying to get your trust. He might give you information on demons to butter you up.”

“As if that would’ve worked,” Zoey said proudly and rolled her eyes, but her friends only giggled. “What? It wouldn’t work!”

“It totally would’ve. You’re too sweet, Zoey!” Rumi laughed.

“Am not! And I’m not so gullible!” the youngest Hunter protested, her face scrunching up like an angry puppy. It only caused her sisters to break down in light laughter at her antics.

That is, until Bobby came in through the elevator.

“Hi girls! How’s the haia- WHAT IN THE- GIRLS!”

Cue the frantic explanations of crazed fans that they miraculously got away from when returning from the bathhouse last night. Poor Bobby was clutching at his chest just hearing them recount their harrowing, and only slightly made-up, experience with the crazed, knife-wielding fans. His heart hurt to see them go through something like that.

Especially when it was so close to how his own group had disbanded. This was what he wanted to protect them from so desperately... and he failed.

“We need to get you to the hospital!” he sputtered, already grabbing at his phone.

Mira stood up quickly, wincing on her bad knee but standing firm. “Bobby, we’re ok! I patched us up. We don't need the hospital.”

“But-”

“We didn’t want this to get to the press,” Rumi took a more logical approach. “We’re afraid it'll cause others to do the same, if they think they can get away with it so easily.”

“And Mira is really good at medicine, so we really are fine!” Zoey added in a bright smile and two thumbs up to really emphasize her point.

Bobby pouted. “Oh my girls,” he sniffled. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this. I’m getting you a new security detail right away! And I’m contacting the police! We’re finding these rascals!”

The Hunters knew they couldn’t argue with that. They nodded and let Bobby check their foreheads for fever, fearing an infection from unwashed or rusty knives. He crossed his arms after his assessment was complete. All clear.

“I’ll let the fans know we’re extending our hiatus,” he said, trying to sound comforting.

“You know we can’t, Bobby,” Rumi smiled. “I’ve seen the charts, it’s the perfect time for new album planning, interviews, and promotional videos.”

“But you girls need rest!”

“We need awesome new songs and our loving fans!” Zoey laughed. “Besides, too many trips to the bathhouse will make me prune like a raisin.”

Finally, Bobby cracked open a smile. “Ok. But we’ll keep activities light until you three are healed up.”

“Ok, Bobby!” the three girls hummed in unison.

Chapter Text

Mystery found the unexpected things in life to be tedious. Like this morning’s spontaneous shot of possessive instincts or feeling Gwi-Ma’s influence being ripped from his mind while his soul still fought down in the demon realm. So far, the unexpected has been nothing but unpleasant.

Except, he didn’t know how to feel about getting dragged into Zoey’s room by the Enchantress herself. He supposed it should also be considered unpleasant. 

In her haste, the strong Hunter sent him careening toward her bed. She was strong for being so small. Blue tulip-scented bedsheets made his head spin as his worst fears were confirmed. Abby was right.

“I was trying to help you! She should’ve jumped your scrawny ass the second you said that!”

Mystery was getting jumped. Not in a way he could handle—the blood, guts, and screaming way for which he was built. He was getting jumped. Was she stupid?! Could she really be that enamored by the facade to completely ignore the danger? The demon took her as a curious soul, yes, but not outright brain-dead!

He flung himself away from her bed, her scent floating around him like a curse. The warmth spread down his arms as he spun around on his heels. This could not be happening. Mystery wasn’t that type of demon; he didn’t know the first thing about human attraction. This entire plan was tearing at its seams because he couldn’t- 

Zoey glanced over her shoulder, keen brown eyes trapping him in time and space. She turned so fluidly—a brilliant sea creature using the current in her hair to angle her body without breaking a sweat. A pale, perfect neck tilted her head to the side and brushed her bangs against her cheek. 

She was wearing more clothes than usual—long pants, a high-collared cotton shirt, and arm warmers that cloaked up from her knuckles to her toned biceps. Was that a sign? Was she whispering her enchantment on him by mimicking his human disguise? In those brown eyes, was there a hunger he hadn’t noticed before?

Nope. No. Nonono. He can’t do this. This is Abby’s domain, not Mystery’s. He should’ve brought the muscular demon here with him—he saw Zoey ogling him at least twice now. 

“Could you teleport directly into my room from now on?”

He forgot how to breathe right—impressive since he didn’t need to breathe at all. Abby wouldn’t mess up the plan, Mystery would. He couldn’t fake an emotion so severe. Zoey was too observant. She’d glance down at the churning waters of his subconscious and find him clear as day in the depths. She would recognize the scheme, and he’d be left with two options—starve on this wretched world or die by her blade.

“Yes,” Mystery’s voice sounded too breathy, too laced with fear.

A phantom golden knife caressed his throat. It grew warmer, more familiar with the way his skin would break—harsh as Gwi-Ma’s torture yet soft as a lover’s touch.

“Ok, great. Bobby upped our security detail, so if you wanna keep learning about animals, you’re gonna need to be more secretive,” she hummed, walking right past him to her TV.

Oh.

Whoever or whatever was looking out for him, thank you.

Still settling into his relief, Mystery tentatively trailed behind her. His mind swam with new unanswered questions to his previous observations. If those arm warmers weren’t the Hunter staking her claim, then what were they for? The demon didn’t think they matched her usual style—cute but with an added street-style flair.

“More security?” he asked casually and took a seat on his beanbag.

Zoey sat down across from him with too much caution. Mystery wondered if his question encroached on dangerous territory. If it did, her expression refused to show it. “Our hiatus ends soon. Fans can get really rowdy and sometimes dangerous when we raise the energy for our return. It’s preventative.” 

The demon’s eyes narrowed—not that she could see. "I thought the Honmoon prevented that." 

"Sure. Let me just tell my human manager that a glowing, world-encompassing spiderweb is gonna keep me safe,” Zoey snorted. “Thanks for the concern.”

It wasn’t concern. “I’d hate to see you harmed by fans,” Mystery droned before he could stop himself. 

“Not by demons, though.” Zoey’s face lightened with an unnerving smile. The demon underestimated her—Zoey never backed down from a challenge. She had too much fire, and he just tossed her an extra log to burn. Just enough burn to give her the confidence to enact her plan. “Speaking of, I have a question.”

He was almost afraid to give her the bait. The beanbag felt like a steel chair encasing his limbs, keeping him prisoner to the circling Hunter. It was the opposite of their previous, frail trust. 

Maybe she finally realized all their debt has been paid. The Enchantress didn’t kill him yesterday, he didn’t kill her while she slept, and now they were finally even.

“I might not have an answer.”

She toyed with the remote absentmindedly. Through dark lashes, the Hunter watched his throat as he swallowed. “Have you eaten a human soul?”

The warning bells were almost as loud as his thoughts. “No.”

“Don’t you need to?”

“You spoke with your friends, didn’t you?” Mystery proposed, thinking out loud so his silence didn’t spark concern. This was not good.

She was, rightfully, suspicious of him. And though his answer wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t exactly the truth either. Her soul was the only one he ever planned to eat—claimed it the day they met right under Gwi-Ma’s nose.

“Jinu told us quite a lot about demons before the Golden Honmoon.” Zoey’s smile seemed to tug at his soul from deep in the demon realm. “Do I have to explain what that means?”

I’ll know when you lie. “No,” Mystery answered, “you’ve been very clear.”

He wanted his words to have more bite, but his damn voice came out airy again. The demon was walking the knife’s edge. If he lived, he might give Jinu a black eye to match Abby—show some team unity. Mystery knew he’d been romancing the lead singer of Huntr/x, but their heartless leader never told them what he said. 

If Jinu had told the truth weeks ago, Mystery had nothing to fear. He had no intention of lying to Zoey at the moment. Omitting information? Sure. 

If Jinu lied, Mystery was royally out of luck. 

“Have you ever worked for the police? You’re good at this.” He leaned back against his prison chair, a familiar coy disguise settling over his body. If she was showing colors, so could he.

The snort his little comment earned him made him draw a breath. “You could say I have experience. Answer my question.”

“There are different types of demons, as you know, but yes, we all need energy from souls. The problem is…” Jinu, what did you tell them? “Well, we can’t harvest the energy ourselves.”

She chewed through the information, spinning the remote between her index fingers. “So you can’t actually eat?”

“Not the way you probably thought,” Mystery nodded. “We function more as a soul-collection for Gwi-Ma. He’s the one who feeds us with what he thinks we deserve.”

Ever observant, she caught his implication. “What did you deserve?”

“Little,” Mystery shrugged. “Enough to keep me around.”

“So, you’ve never eaten a human soul, but you’ve given human souls to Gwi-Ma.” Zoey shifted in her seat. She tried so hard to keep her discomfort at bay. She never thought Gwi-Ma was torturing the demons like this.

Mystery shook his head. This talking was getting tedious.

“Why?”

No way around it, he supposed. “I’m vindictive.”

“And brave,” Zoey added, regretting it almost instantly. She had to cover her tracks fast. “What type of demon are you?”

“Jeoseung Saja.” He figured that would be enough, but she patiently waited for him to say more. “We’re higher-order demons.” 

“What’s the difference? How are the different demons created?”

Mystery shrugged. “Don’t know. Some sold souls just become what they’re meant for, I think. As for the difference, higher demons usually lead lower demons on missions for… souls.”

Zoey nodded, but her mind was a million miles away. She wasn’t sure why it all made her so uncomfortable. Hadn’t she wished for the eternal suffering of demons? Wasn’t it her duty to send them to a suffering they deserve? But Jinu claimed demons were made, not born, and Mystery added a new layer of complexity to her inner turmoil.

Could there be… good demons in the same way there were good and bad people? She wasn’t sure yet, but Mystery let her boss him around. He wasn’t putting up a fight—hadn’t even once. He was definitely vying for her trust, and she hated to admit he was winning against her better judgment.

He could’ve killed her this morning, and it would’ve cost him nothing.

She made a quiet decision to end his interrogation by clicking the power button on her remote.

“Wait, shouldn’t I get questions too?”

Her fingers froze on the buttons as she selected a clownfish playlist. Zoey’s eyes were wide like two full moons, her lips parting from the shock. “Uh- What questions do you have?”

He didn’t even have to fake his interest, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “Why do you like turtles?” 

Of all the questions she could’ve possibly expected, this wasn’t one of them. She blinked slowly as her mind tried to wrap around why a demon was interested in her turtle obsession. Was he still trying to get her trust?

He had to be, right?

“Um,” her voice trailed off. Mystery gave her honesty earlier, so she supposed she owed him some of her own. “A lot of people teased me back in America, and I thought I understood the turtles. They have shells to protect all their delicate parts, and I have mine.”

Mystery frowned, confusion drawing the corners of his lips down. “Why were you teased?”

“I can be a bit weiiiirddd,” Zoey chuckled to cover the way her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. “My lyrics weren’t always useful, you know. I was just the girl in the back of the class writing for a long time.”

He shouldn’t have asked. She already flooded his mind at all hours of the day with her scent and her voice, now she’d exist in a form he never knew her. A young version of the Enchantress tucked into the back of a classroom like the animal she so adores, tears bubbling in her eyes as she scribbled words pulled from her soul. Her notebooks wouldn’t be clean and understandable, no he couldn’t imagine that. They’d be an explosion of her thoughts and feelings—an exploration of everything that could be.

Mystery turned his attention to the TV and Zoey knew they both reached their stopping point. Tonight it was clownfish, blue whales, and orcas that swam between reality and the fantasy in which they floated. Zoey’s loud yawn broke their quiet, comfortable world of water.

She turned just fast enough to see purple smoke twist and fade into the dim wallpaper. 

Her room echoed like an empty cavern, drips of distant water pulling her deeper into its grasp. The Hunter went through her routine in a sluggish manner to delay the inevitable—the water drops morphed into a haunting melody as she brushed through her hair.

I’ll love you more when it all burns down.

The demon she spoke to so briefly was the only member of the Saja Boys who could sing that line. Only his voice could crest a note while soothing its beholder. Seductive yet vague, that was all that could be said. The nightmare of him and the reality of him were so distant from each other that it caused her mind to swell and pound against her skull. But could she say that? Zoey hardly knew him. If all their conversations added together, she doubted they'd pass 2 hours of time spent talking.

Maybe both versions guided her to death.

Zoey sighed as her head laid to rest against her pillow. The fighting, the planning, the interrogation, the thoughts, it all wore her down to the barest whisper of herself. It wasn't time for that anymore. Sleep was her greatest refuge. She hoped the nightmare would not come tonight, as it hadn’t the night before. The world owed her a good, long sleep in preparation for the days to come.

But debts owed are rarely repaid.

Chapter Text

They fell into a sort of routine, the Hunter and the Demon. Mystery would teleport into Zoey’s room around midnight, they’d exchange questions—Zoey about demons and Mystery about Zoey—and then settle into two hours of watching. It was an unspoken agreement that didn’t break their other unspoken agreements.

Be friendly. Build trust. Don’t get too close, you’re still playing opposite teams.

With so many contradictions, keeping her opinion of Mystery straight was hard. Between the hours of 12 and 2 AM, he was a reluctant friend, a tortured soul that didn’t reek of the sins that the other demons she knew of did. When she slept, Mystery was a taunting grin and a soothing voice that walked her to Gwi-Ma’s fiery maw. And during the countless hours Huntr/x spent planning, he was nothing more than a cold-blooded enemy. 

Worst of all, at random times her little crush would reignite with the memory of that blanket and how carefully he must’ve tucked her in while she slept.

But that had to be kept under lock and key. 

Zoey couldn’t deny that he looked good. The demon’s face was symmetrical, his hair was shiny, his bangs were fluffy, his lips were perfect, and his hoodie clung to his arms when he moved. Who could blame her? He was everything a girl could like. 

But Mystery was her enemy, and not nearly as perfect as outward appearances claimed.

He had an attitude, for one. He would slide his claws over each other quietly like a cricket, for another. And even though his voice felt like a warm caress, he talked too loud.

Lock and key.

Speaking of the devil, he snapped her out of her thoughts with a loud, “You’re fidgety today.”

Zoey jumped out of her seat faster than a bullet. Her hands clasped together, an attempt to contain the disastrous amounts of potential energy locked in her muscles. Restlessness was unfortunately common in the Hunter’s life, but Mystery hadn’t seen the worst of it yet. 

“Fidgety?”

Though she couldn’t see his face, she could imagine the expression that must’ve nestled into his eyes.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah!” she chirped, bringing her hands behind her back. Zoey’s painted smiles did better wonders when her eyes weren’t so tired. “We’ve just been taking it easy and getting back in the groove of things, and we don’t have any new choreo yet, so I’m just soooo full of energy.” 

The Hunter nearly flinched when his hand reached out, but he didn’t move to… Actually, she wasn’t really sure what she was expecting him to do. Mystery carefully picked the remote off the floor and paused their octopus playlist. He let it rest in his lap as his attention shifted back to her.

“How can I help?”

Ok. Put that on the Top Five Sentences Zoey Never Expected to Hear From a Literal Demon list. The dark-haired hunter blinked slowly to process his words—that soothing voice rumbling in her skull as the question bounced around tauntingly.

“Why do you want to help?”

Mystery shrugged. “We still have an hour.”

“Isn’t your whole thing to enjoy seeing people in misery?” Zoey quipped, shifting her weight onto one hip and playfully tilting her head. She was sure to have caught him in a lie.

"Is that what the Hunters think?" he sighed to himself. Mystery supposed they had no way to know the truth—interactions between hunters and demons have been historically brief and lethal. For some demons, maybe it was true, but most of them were motivated by their insatiable hunger or the psychological torture that Gwi-Ma enjoyed subjugating them to. 

Others’ pain was easy to ignore when he was too consumed by his own. Mystery had no memories for Gwi-Ma to twist, but he had fears. He had too many fears.

There was no way to explain it without her questioning him, and Mystery would rather die than talk about his feelings. “No,” was the simple answer he waved in front of her nose.

Reluctantly, Zoey took the bait. “Ok. Well… I usually go on a walk when I’m hyper. But there’s security all around the tower now, so that’s not an option.” She brought her hand up to her mouth, biting down on her nails in thought.

Mystery stood up with a lazy stretch, deliberately keeping his eyes on the floor. Her enchantment was most potent when he looked at her. “I can teleport.”

Still refusing to look at her, Mystery held out his hand. Not that he wanted her to take it, it’s just that physical contact was needed for his teleportation to extend to her, too. He purposefully left his hand limp so she felt less inclined to hold it.

Zoey stared at his pale purple skin for a long time—long enough to memorize the trails of his patterns. Her heart was a treacherous beast, a painfully evil romantic. Her promise hissed in the back of her mind as she slipped on a pair of beaten-up tennis shoes. They were crossing into new territory. Traveling outside of her controlled room, outside of their agreements. Zoey carefully approached the demon, lips parted as a quiet breath escaped her.

This could’ve been a trap. 

Her brown eyes glided along his arm, over his shoulder, and up to where his ears peeked out from behind his hair. Mystery’s jaw went tight as Zoey’s hand slid into his, her fingers wary when they captured his skin. His heart was actually beating for the first time in his life. She could feel it in his palm, see the patterns disappear in a gradual wave taking over his body.

This was no trap. Zoey was sure of it the minute his fingers closed around her hand too.

He was kinda cute—all shy and controlled. 

Lock and key, Zoey. Lock and key.

“Let’s go.”

That nauseous, churning feeling swept over her not a moment later. Zoey pressed her eyes shut as the floor disappeared from under her feet. Their bodies split and reformed in a blink, or maybe it was the world that had to bend around them.

When she opened her eyes, she didn’t recognize the street. The buildings that cornered them were shorter by a couple dozen floors. The road was narrow and mainly dedicated to storefront tables. Zoey imagined them overflowing with goods during noon, when the quiet streets were home to shoes, voices, and the exchange of what ultimately brought the world together—money. But the bustle and noise were long put to bed, and all that remained was a quiet buzz of golden streetlights. 

“I wanted to go further,” Mystery announced, a frown twisting his features. “There’s a park.”

She felt his hand squeeze hers, an unconscious gesture resulting from his frustration. They both froze. Awareness was a dangerous thing. Walking a tightrope was exhilarating as long as their balance didn’t slip—and there were no nets at the base of their plummet. 

“I guess I wanted to walk,” Zoey whispered, but her voice was lighter than usual. She wiggled her fingers against the back of his hand, and he responded by letting her go. She tucked her hands into her pockets to keep them warm. In all honesty, her face could’ve done the job. “What way do we go?”

Mystery cleared his throat, stuffing his hands into his hoodie. He mimicked her when he was nervous, Zoey noted. “Forward.”

“You’re very confident for someone who got us lost,” she teased, but followed beside him anyway. Maybe she should keep her sass to a minimum tonight. He was kinda her only way back home.

All thought of that flew out the window when he snorted. “We’re not lost, we’re just not where I expected.”

“Soooooo,” Zoey droned, “we’re lost.”

He sighed loudly, dramatically, and repressed a smile. “Do you know the definition of lost?”

“Not off the top of my head. But you probably do.” 

The wide grin lighting up her face told Mystery everything he needed to know. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“That you’re ancient and a dictionary.” 

“I’m not a book.”

“But you are ancient.”

He rolled his eyes, not that she saw. “I can’t argue that one.” 

“How old are you?”

“You already had a question tonight.”

“So, I get one question a day for the rest of my life? I have a daily word limit like those trendy tiktok videos?” Zoey gasped, her hands flying to her warm cheeks. “That is a nightmare scenario. Can you imagine?”

Well, he didn’t have to. Mystery had lived it at least three times under Gwi-Ma. That conversation would damper Zoey’s mood, though, and he begrudgingly liked it when she talked and he could just listen. “Hm?”

“You never watched them?!”

“I don’t have a phone.”

Zoey laughed, already patting at her pockets for a device she left at the tower. She pouted. “Oh darn, I don’t have it. We’ll watch some next time they’re so funny. The concept is basically this…”

Zoey went into immense detail on every individual tiktok actor plotline she’d seen—discussing tropes, low effort character differentiation through hairstyles or clothing, the “only text and one actor” types, and the way she could predict every follow-up video. 

The demon listened quietly, even as cement turned to dirt under their feet. Warm streetlights twinkled behind them like stars. Even the moon became starlight as the canopy scattered its light and hid away the sky. The forest embraced them—protected them from the late summer chill and the dangerous world beyond. It let them walk its quiet trail, let them approach a small children’s playground, let them take a seat on the rusty old swings and shooed away the animals to give them privacy.

Zoey kicked her feet as she rocked herself back and forth, her eyes drifting from her shoes to his. “How’d you know there was a park here?”

“I have a lot of time recently,” Mystery said quickly. He didn’t swing like she did, but he didn’t need to. “Demons don’t sleep and the night is long.”

She hummed thoughtfully and tore her eyes away from him. Zoey took to watching the leaves dance. It was a safer option. “Does that mean you don’t dream?”

“Extra question,” he reminded her.

“You answered the last one,” she chirped.

“I liked that question.”

He dared to sneak a look at her. Mystery was beginning to understand how her spells worked. They reminded him of something he never had—or had no memory of. She was just so distinctly human with her spirit, her light, and her beauty. She was a person he couldn’t become and could only watch from across a line carved in brimstone.

It didn’t help when she gave him everything Gwi-Ma used to control him. Mystery’s words were enough to lower her guard, his honesty was enough for her to trust him, and his poor attempt at humor left her smiling.

Dangerously, selfishly, he felt she could be satisfied with him—that he was enough to her.

Realistically, he knew they played the same game. Her enchantment made him feel special because she wanted it to. Her trust was a ruse to get closer to him. Her questions funneled his answers right back to her Hunter friends. And he couldn’t blame her for it, because she knew he was the same.

“What do you dream of, Zoey?”

You. “Good things. Turtles, often. Family, sometimes. Songs, every night,” she whispered breathily. When she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine the dreams. “I like dreaming about the water, and it brings me words. I like to think I’m picking between them on the current.”

“Like an ocean witch.”

Laughter bubbled up Zoey’s chest before she could stop it. She threw a playful look at Mystery, eyes twinkling like the sky, like the moonlight, like the distant streetlights. “An ocean witch?”

He had to scramble to find the courage to speak. There she went again, whispering her spells into his blood—taunting him even in her absence with these tender seconds. “Your music is like a spell, the ocean a conduit, and you’re the one weaving it together. You show the listener exactly how to feel.”

The bubbly laughter turned into something so soft Zoey was almost afraid to touch it—to feel it in full. “Do you write too?”

“No.”

“You should,” she smiled. “Poetry comes easy to you.” 

Mystery could only breathe her compliment in and let it go. But he couldn’t. He latched onto it, held it between claws and tusks, and dragged it deep into his heart where he could keep it safe. “I guess I’ll be flattered.”

They were silent for a long time after that. Neither wanted to disturb this peace they found. This softness was something to explore at a different time—in the morning when they were enemies again. It was supposed to be something to dissect between their companions and for them to sit silent as the feeling grew unbearable.

But neither of them would bring this night up.

They knew without speaking that this little moment was theirs alone.

Chapter Text

Rain drizzled through the thick, leafy canopy. Little droplets pressed kisses to her face, a quiet sort of comfort to her full-body chill. Zoey’s eyes drifted shut, hands resting on her soaked stomach. The rain made her long white dress appear holographic—like the twinkling Honmoon she so deeply loved. She was in that park again, somewhere where no one could find her. Her hair was flung around her head in the wet woodchips like a black halo. 

Zoey hummed a song she never heard before, shuffling her feet to a distant beat. The sky responded in kind with a great downpour of water and emotion. Her arms ached as the water rose around her, lapping at her ears and twisting her halo into twin horns. 

This quiet cold felt so familiar to the river. When she opened her eyes, she almost expected to see jellyfish swimming above her, but only the melancholic clouds greeted her.

The Hunter’s hand reached for them, raindrops racing down her arm to join their siblings in the rising waters. Her ears disappeared under the water, and suddenly the world of secret songs turned muffled. A thudding replaced her senses, or maybe more of a hammering. Zoey pressed her free hand to her heart.

The beat didn’t match.

Her hands fell to her sides with a withdrawn sigh. The rain flooded her system and weighed down her blood. She stole the clouds’ melancholy as her heart slowed with the strain of pumping rainwater. Comments flickered in her vision from all their performances—arguing over her weight, tearing apart her lyrics, plucking at the bits of information they could grab from all areas of her private life.

Zoey belonged in Huntr/x. She felt the fire along her skin when she sang with her sisters and breathed for the rush of the fight. Her lyrics found meaning in telling the world of the Hunter’s triumph. She loved Rumi and Mira with all her heart—they gave her the stable family she longed for all her life.

But in the very end, Zoey was replaceable. No one had a voice like Rumi, no one had presence and choreography like Mira, but anyone with a heartbeat could write. Once the remaining demons have been vanquished from the world for all eternity, a Hunter trio wouldn't be needed. Bobby could find a Korean woman who fit into the look of Huntr/x better—someone tall, lithe, and actually pretty. 

It would be for the best, wouldn’t it?

“You’ll catch a cold.” 

He came into her periphery but stole away her focus. He always managed, didn't he.

Mystery’s hair clung to his purple skin and turned dark when soaked by the rain. His small fangs kept his lips lightly parted, and his breath painted clouds in Zoey’s vision. She tilted her head quietly. Did Mystery ever breathe? Yes, surely he did. When she held his hand, she remembered his shoulders rising and falling. 

I'm breathing for you, the rain sang.

Zoey blinked, distantly shocked that the raindrops refused to fall in her eyes. “I’m not cold,” she lied.

The demon crouched beside her. His black hoodie clung to his body in precisely the ways Zoey needed it to. She examined his toned shoulders, relished in the new sight of his biceps, and dared not let her eyes drift lower than his midriff. 

Carefully, painfully so, Mystery’s hand lifted the hair from her cheek and brushed it aside. He rested his palm against her skin, frowning to himself. “You feel warm.”

For reasons you can’t know, Zoey thought.

“It’s not a fever,” she admitted, but Mystery was hellbent on distrusting her. 

His arms lifted her from the ground, one spanning her shoulders and the other hooking itself under her knees. Zoey’s arms felt too heavy to move, but even if they weren’t, she wouldn’t have. She was too scared to snap Mystery out of his delirium—to remind him that he’s not supposed to be touching her like this.

She only allowed herself to rest her head against his shoulder. By some miracle, that tiny movement didn’t get him to drop her. 

Mystery didn’t have a jacket to offer her, but he had something way better—teleportation powers.

They were back in her room in the blink of an eye, and the warm air made her wet skin bristle with goosebumps. Reality crashed back into the Hunter with the wave of warm air. Not only was she shivering now, but she was embarrassed. She let Mystery see her so fragile and acted like a fool lying in the rain, doing nothing but catching death. Zoey pressed her face into Mystery's wet shoulder.

She didn't know why.

The demon’s frown didn’t lighten. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

“I’m all wet,” Zoey argued. 

“We both are,” Mystery chuckled. Did he always laugh so easily? Zoey didn’t think she was very funny. “Lucky beds can dry.”

He sat her down at the edge of her bed and wasted no time covering her with a fluffy blanket. The feeling of plush warmth against her neck reminded her everything she wasn’t supposed to feel. It was nostalgic. She remembered that morning, when she awoke warm in her fabric shell and imagined the delicate devotion that must’ve occurred while she slept. 

Now she was aware of his hands while he brought the blanket up to her jaw and attempted to dry off her legs with the corners of it. Now she could see the way his body reacted to hers—the way his shoulders eased when her shivering stopped and the way his hands reached after her when she pulled her legs back.

Mystery looked up, pouting like a scolded puppy. The comparison tugged at her heart until a smile lit up her face.

“I’m all dry now,” Zoey laughed. “When did you get so brazen?”

Mystery paused for a moment, a plan formulating in his mind. His hand was coy as it latched around her ankle again. Not gripping her, just pressing his skin to hers. Her head tilted. He ran it up to her knee as he stood, keeping a watchful eye for her reaction. 

She could only describe it as an electric shock.

“Since I found out I could get away with it,” Mystery grinned. 

His fangs oh my-

Zoey stopped herself there, but the idea was already thoroughly branded in her mind. She smiled at him, a practiced response for a new situation. Her ears betrayed her, growing at least three shades darker in pink. “You’re pushing your luck,” the Hunter joked.

Mystery snorted and took a seat beside her, stretching out his long legs as he brushed his hair out of his face. Zoey’s eyes were immediately trained on his, only she couldn’t see them very well. They kept moving in and out of focus—blurry like a distant dream. But they were captivating. She could feel their pull even through the blur. Maybe this was why Mystery kept them hidden away, because she would've lost a long time ago if he didn't.

“I’m a demon. I like pushing my luck,” his voice softened. Mystery reached out absentmindedly, twirling her bangs with his index finger. “Your hair is still wet.”

“That’s what happens when you're in the rain,” she laughed.

His hand fell from her face, landing atop hers on the bed. They didn't entwine their fingers, just enjoyed the feeling of skin-to-skin pressure. “How am I gonna keep you dry?” 

Zoey bubbled at the core with happiness. Her eyes twinkled, her entire being drifting up to the stars. “Blankets and towels have been very successful.”

“Only partly. Your hair's still wet.”

Silence warmly embraced them as their attention turned elsewhere. Zoey realized how close they were. If she shifted to the side even slightly, her thigh would press against his. She was sure she heard his heartbeat in the quiet, a sound only reserved for her. Their hands were a bridge connecting two different worlds. When she stared down at them, she knew all it would take was a moment of weakness to cross it.

Mystery had his moment of weakness first. He couldn't pull his gaze away from his hand as he walked his fingers up to her wrist. In a focused trance, he pressed his palm to her skin and slowly slid it up to her elbow, then to her shoulder. Zoey was only distantly aware that the blanket fell from one side. She was too busy watching Mystery's face as he hesitated, then caustiously followed the dip and trail of her collarbone. Fire ignited in her blood, and she swore he could feel it as his palm moved up to rest against the base of her neck. 

Zoey didn’t once think to stop him.

“Mystery?” she whispered as his hand drifted from her neck to her chin. The demon touched her like she was an exhibit, a piece of art that required a certain reverence to approach. “Do you think of me? When I’m not around?”

One lean hand kept her chin between his thumb and index finger, and the other wandered. Along her jaw, drifting up to her ears, back over her eyebrows, mapping her forehead, her eyes, her nose, and then her lips. She wanted him everywhere all at once. His fingers memorized the shape of her mouth and then revered the softness of her bottom lip.

“Endlessly.” Mystery’s voice was smooth as ever, enchanting as ever. She wished she could see his eyes, but her vision just wouldn’t focus enough to catch them. “Zoey, you know I’m yours.”

Her hand tightened around the bedsheet, breath stalling in her throat. Mystery's hands were on the move again, adjusting to cup her face. Every feeling, every thought, every moment of her life felt out of reach as she let herself press against his hold.

Two gold eyes stared at her, framed by loose strands of silvery lavender hair. They were too soft to belong on a demon. Zoey’s idle hand moved from her knee. Her nimble fingers traced around his eyes, every pass around them drawing her closer to him. Or was he pulling her closer? She couldn’t care.

All she cared about was the distance between them growing thin. His warm breath dusted up her face to her eyes as they fell closed. Where a second ago she felt far away, now she was concentrated in one place in time.

A buzz sizzled across her lips as he kissed her so gently that Zoey's heart almost gave way. Hands caressed her jaw as hers drifted to his hair. His lips were soft against hers, his smell overwhelmed her senses, his body shifted to face hers better. Her first kiss—sweet and soft and followed by dozens of kisses. Each felt like the first of its own category. 

Tentative.

Comfortable.

Adventurous.

Adoring.

Demanding.

He pushed against her, lips heavy on hers. Mystery’s hands drifted down her body, and when she gasped, his fangs poked at her bottom lip. Zoey grabbed his hair, pulling him back with her against the bed.

She still felt the buzz against her lips as her eyes flew open. Her bedsheets were wound around her legs, exposing the rest of her to the cold evening. Zoey pushed herself up with empty hands and pressed one palm against her thundering heart.

Holy shit.

This was not good.

She was dreaming about Mystery. She was dreaming about Mystery . Nononono-

Zoey couldn't breathe. Her heart had to be going a million miles an hour. It felt so real, only now that she was awake did she realize the inconsistencies. Mystery’s language felt too flowery, she wasn't nauseous after teleporting, Zoey’s arms were bare of scars, and the two of them were just too comfortable. 

Plus, why would Mystery ever tell her that he’s hers?

Zoey viciously grabbed her pillow and stuffed her face into it, screaming as loud as she could. The muffled noise was music to her ears, and the release it brought was a cool breeze to her soul. She sighed as she dropped the pillow to her knees. It was so quiet she could practically hear the blood coursing in her veins. 

Wait…

It was quiet. Dead silent. 

It was never dead silent in her room. The tower was in the center of the city. When there weren’t cars, trains, and distant voices, there was the whistling wind. It was the white noise that kept her feeling sane so high above the world.

Zoey’s gut tightened into knots, adrenaline rising in her body until it made her limbs shake with energy.

Somehow, she knew there was someone in her room. And it wasn’t Mystery.

Chapter Text

Zoey always prided herself on her resourcefulness and quick thinking—a trait that might’ve been tied with her love of rapping and lyricism.

Celine liked that about her. She remembered her days during the academy auditions for Huntr/x, when Celine herself came every week to inform the girls of their new mission. Zoey wasn't ranked particularly high among the remaining girls; she had almost made her way home the week prior to this particular test.

On the day Zoey cemented her spot in the final 6, it was a test of "on the spot" choreography. She had to dance her original audition tape song while various elements of the stage “fell apart”. Light fixtures dangled in loud and random intervals, people jumped out at her, and even the stage floor shifted up and down on one end. The key to the mission was unpredictability to whittle down which contestants could handle the unexpected during performances. 

Zoey remembered the close bond she felt with her body that day. Every surprise was followed by flawless execution of the same-old move, but different. Every movement fell right on beat, her voice flipping to a more stylized remix when a shock ran through her to cover her tracks.

She could physically see the pride shimmering in Celine’s eyes as she announced Zoey’s pairing with Mira and sent them off to the final test the next day. That day, she'd never forget it. That day Zoey saw the Honmoon for the first time—shimmering, strong, and blue.

Thinking back now, it reminded her of one important lesson...

She was trained for this.

The Honmoon blossomed to life in front of her, gold and gleaming. It brushed over the silent world in undisturbed tidal waves. Gwi-Ma was still vanquished—that was a small relief at least.

Zoey needed a better vantage point, fast. Otherwise, she couldn’t plan her attack effectively.

She yawned dramatically, stretching her arms above her head. The Hunter glanced leisurely at the time—5:13 AM—and chirped to the intruder in her room. “Oh wow, so early!”

Zoey ran her fingers through her hair, hopping out of bed with a spring to her step. The Honmoon led her to her vanity as she kept her eyes closed, fingers expertly braiding her dark black hair. Whispers of danger dragged themselves across her arms and caused her heart to race at an exhilarating pace.

She tried not to think of how a demon shrivels as it dies.

“Hmmm, I guess I’m not falling back asleep. Might as well cut my bangs,” Zoey announced to her mirror. She pretended to look at herself, leaning forward as she brushed her bangs away from her eyes. They really had grown out, but Huntr/x hadn’t decided on their signature look for their comeback yet, so the more hair she had for styling, the better.

The Hunter’s eyes scanned along the Honmoon’s golden strings, searching for some type of inconsistency. She didn’t exactly know what that meant, but her senses were going wild. It was like the Honmoon itself was warning her not to trust the empty walls. Zoey’s hand feigned fumbling with her drawers as she resisted huffing. 

She couldn’t see anything. 

Her room was empty. Only her, the air, and the remnants of her dream resting on her pillow. 

But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Her shoulders burned with a pair of eyes watching her every breath. And just when she thought she could finally be going insane, Zoey saw it.

A bump in the Honmoon.

No, not exactly. It was just like those optical illusions she saw online when she was a kid—the ones where a concrete wall was painted to look exactly like a road passing under a bridge. The lines were drawn so precisely to match reality, but fell apart the moment the viewer’s position changed. When real lines moved, and painted ones couldn’t.

Zoey bent down just slightly to reach her hand into her drawers, fingertips brushing cool metal but leaving it unclaimed. Real lines, the real Honmoon, shifted with her, but the chameleon couldn’t follow in suit. 

Its outline showed her four limbs and a robust, misshapen body. It had horns, she thought, or something else protruding from its skull. Or… what she assumed was its skull.

Zoey summoned her knives in the same instant that it disappeared. She almost didn’t have a chance to use them until she saw the purple smoke twist out from under her closet door. It must've teleported. The Hunter flung her knives through the air and gave a smile at the sound of her weapons plunging into the wood.

She heard a startled pair of shuffling feet—two feet, not four. Two feet?

“I’m not here to hurt you,” a voice hummed from inside, her closet door opening with a creak.

Oh.

What!?

“What are you doing here?”

Abby grinned at her, two stout coy ears perking up in her direction. He stepped fully into her room and let the door swing shut. His clothes were a mess—torn and stained. Whether it was his choice or not, Zoey wouldn’t know. Abby had his soda pop shirt open, torn at his ribs, and his jeans clung to his thighs.

“Couldn’t let Mystery have all the fun,” he purred, running a hand through his messy pink hair.

A panther, Zoey thought, with conveniently placed abs and biceps.

His complete demon transformation might have left him more wild, but his body was still relatively unchanged—athletic, ripped, muscular, and like really insanely ripped. He looked like everything she read about in books. The perfect man sculpted from heavy rock and gold.

Well, when he looked like a man. Now, he looked more like a perfect beast.

Zoey raised her knives higher, preparing herself for the worst.

Abby sauntered forward exactly three steps before he was forced to stop. A knife landed directly in front of his foot, a warning from the Hunter herself. The demon smiled, lifting his hands into the air coyly, as if to say I hear you loud and clear.

“So, where is the emotionally repressed bastard?”

“Mystery?” 

“Who else?”

Zoey’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why would he be here?”

“I know he’s hiding. I can feel him, sweet Huntress.”

Ok, no amount of sex appeal is enough to let that dialogue slide. Zoey almost threw up on the spot. As much as she had to worry about her little crush on Mystery getting out of hand, Zoey wasn’t burdened by that problem with Abby.

“If you know he’s here, where’s he hiding?” she asked hesitantly. Zoey was confident that Mystery wasn’t in the tower. She didn’t know if Mystery actually disappeared after their moments were over, but he didn’t seem like the type to linger around. 

He was way too shy for that. Zoey knew this for a fact.

The only demon Abby could possibly be feeling was the one here when she woke up.

Abby rolled his eyes as he closed them, crossing his large biceps over his exposed chest. Zoey swore he was doing it on purpose. He hummed, gold gleaming as he looked at her again. “Gone now.”

Relief filled her blood. She had to move Abby’s attention to something different—make sure he wouldn’t ask her more questions about "Mystery". The Saja Boys could never know that there were other demons in the world.

“Oh, good. You next,” Zoey smiled, sending a knife whizzing by his ear.

He actually laughed, full and boisterous. Fangs pointed out from his mouth as he threw his head back, a buzz taking him over as he glanced back at the knife. Clearly, that sexual facade was easy to break. “Didn’t take you as a little sadist.”

Zoey just scoffed, a smile playing on her face. “Ironic.”

“Well, sweet Huntress,” Abby licked his lips. “If Mystery is gone, I don’t have to worry about him getting in the way.”

Oh, great, the fake low voice was back. Lucky Zoey. She successfully diverted his attention right back to the infuriating names.

“I don’t even want to know,” she groaned. 

There was a standstill between them. Zoey hadn’t put her knives away, but both knew they weren’t a danger. Yet.

Not unless they had to become one again.

“Mystery’s been beating around the bush, babe,” Abby smirked. He hung his thumbs in his belt loops to pull his pants dangerously low on his hips, watching her with a gaze so intense it made her want to shrink away. “You’re a stunner. Nice body, nice hair, nice lips. Would be enough for anyone, you know?”

Nothing settled right in her stomach. Her brows knitted tightly together, her heart spasming from a comfortable, quick pace to something unstable. 

Isn’t this what she wanted to hear her whole life?

Maybe it’s because it was coming from a demon, or maybe it was coming from the wrong person entirely, but whatever it was, Zoey didn’t think it mattered. 

The demon took a step toward her, careful and precise. His shoulders rose slightly like a panther ready for the attack—patient as it approached its prey.

“All he’s said about you has been true. I got curious,” Abby explained through a purr. Another step closer. “Mystery hasn’t made a move on you. If he doesn’t want you, why shouldn’t I?”

Zoey practically jumped away from him, replacing the lost distance in seconds. She raised her knives again and bit down the discomfort. 

Abby stopped with a blink. Her reaction was unheard of in the eyes of a demon. His tactics always succeeded, helped so greatly by his body. The body he sold his soul for, that betrayed him so often in his human life, was now betraying him as a demon. 

The feeling made him panic. “Aren’t you curious about what else demons are insatiable for?” he tried to keep a cool tone, but it was slipping out of his grip too fast.

“No.” Her lip pulled back as her nose scrunched, repulsed by the idea. A Hunter and a demon. Ridiculous if he thought she’d fall for that. “You’re not acting curious. I’d say you’re desperate for approval.”

Zoey should bite back more often because the words physically got Abby stumbling. His short fluffy ears were practically superglued to the sides of his head, hands clawing at his chest. 

“I’m not desperate!”

“Okkkayyyyy,” Zoey sang, pursing her lips. She saw the panic spring into his golden eyes and immediately felt the air leave her lungs. 

Eternal suffering and shame. That’s what she wished for the demons once. That’s what she thought she wished for them even now, but it was different to see it in front of her. Just like that fight in the river—dead bodies made her previously heroic actions scream of violence. 

She knew Celine would tell her to steel her heart. It was her duty as a Hunter to kill every single demon, to cause their suffering. 

But she was always too soft.

“I believe you,” she said with more sincerity. 

Abby’s ears peeled away from his head, his thinly veiled panic diminishing rapidly. “Maybe you don’t mention this to Mystery.”

Zoey’s head tilted. “Why?”

“He,” Abby scratched at his neck, “told me not to come here and confess my feelings.”

Abby was never about to admit Mystery was right. Or Jinu. Or the rest of the Saja Boys, who all told him that his great seduction plan could only work with Mystery going after Zoey. Something about how Mystery knew her best after all their interactions together. Something else Romance said about humans and deep emotional connections leading Hunters astray. 

He didn't listen, obviously. His plan of seduction was foolproof. Worked great in the past and hunger was a powerful motivator. Abby had no greater wish than to break the Honmoon, return to Gwi-Ma, feast, and never feel so… helpless again. Gwi-Ma would take away these disgusting ears, fur, horns, and spikes along his body. Gwi-Ma would stop the slow deterioration of his physique that was driving Abby crazy with insecurity.

“Oh. Well, don’t worry, I won’t say a word,” Zoey promised. She bit down on the urge to tell him Mystery was right. Too soft, again.

They stood there in an awkward silence for what felt like eternity before Abby coughed into his clawed hand. Zoey swore he was flexing his heart out as he did so. Maybe it was a bad habit of his.

“I’ll- I’ll get going then. You’ve got a great room setup.”

She blinked but choked out a chuckle. “Thank you! It’s me themed.”

“Cool.”

And with that breathy word, he was gone.

Zoey pushed her weight on one hip and held her head in the opposite hand. A dream about kissing Mystery, a secret intruder demon in her room that could cause auditory hallucinations, and another Saja Boy appearance. This had to be the weirdest night of her life. 

Chapter Text

Rumi was a mutt of routine. 

Bobby knew this, that’s why he didn’t say anything at her secret gym sessions. He only reminded her to let security stand outside the door.

Her side stung as she delivered a final blow to her punching bag. Rumi gasped for air, bracing herself against the bag as her lungs fought to restore her strength. Tears bubbled at the corners of her eyes. They were familiar with the dimensions of her face by this point—mapped her cheeks and jaw more times than Rumi could count.

Gradually, the stinging in her side drifted out to sea and her fingernails loosened their grip on the rough fabric. 

Rumi pushed herself back to standing, her mind a million years away. She walked the dirt paths of the first Hunters. They were warrior sirens clad in beautiful garments who only looked back at her with pointed glares. She was nothing but a stray trailing behind them, her sinful stench ruining their deserved peace and quiet.

The lead singer hadn't realized her body had turned, and her feet padded against the floor to the gym entrance.

A little toy train sat in front of the door—still knocked over from when she threw it on the ground upon her arrival. Rumi found it on her balcony this morning, quiet and sullen with its purple and blue plastic body. 

The waves crashed against her again, rising up her body as they threatened to flood her lungs and drown her. She cradled it in her shaky palms and sent her sorrow into its body. Her breath came in short, shallow spurts that left her feeling lightheaded. The small gym was suddenly too bright, its soft yellow wallpaper turning into a rancid shade of mustard, and the heated tile floors felt like wildfire under her feet.

Just a couple of weeks ago, her biggest fears came true right as her biggest wish came true—the Golden Honmoon. It all happened thanks to Jinu, really. He was the one who made her feel like she could sing again. In a twisted and selfish way, Rumi felt her shame was nothing compared to his, that she wasn’t as bad as a full demon. 

But it had changed since the start of their reluctant friendship. She found herself enjoying his company. She felt endless and uncontained with him, free of the restraints of her disguise. Rumi promised him they would be free once the Honmoon turned gold—their patterns and shame would wash away like the tide—as long as the Saja Boys didn’t sabotage the live performance set before the Idol Awards. 

She really thought it meant something to him when the demon boy band didn’t show. 

Then came the realization that her patterns weren’t gone. She spiraled too quickly to remember most of her actions. She knew she frantically told Bobby that Huntr/x wouldn't perform at the Idol Awards. She knew she called... her.

Celine was the only mother Rumi had ever known. Her mom died before they made any memories together—an event shrouded in secrecy by Celine.

Rumi needed her so bad that day, and every single day since.

When Celine picked up the phone, she could hardly look at her. Rumi saw the fear shimmering in her eyes and the sheer disappointment weighing down her smooth voice. The lead singer begged her, begged her, to tell her anything, to look at her and let her know it would be ok. All she needed were three simple words.

It's ok, Rumi.

Instead, Celine hung up. Rumi must’ve called her a hundred times to no avail. There was no stopping her spiral after that, and it only got worse with every repeat of Celine's voicemail. 

She tore her hair from the braid and curled herself into the corner of her room. The half-demon waited, sobbing as her patterns crawled down her legs. As the hours passed, she pulled herself along the floor toward the center of her room, closer to her balcony door. Rumi remembered being so sure he would burst through the doors and save her again.

But Jinu never came.

It was her Huntr/x sisters that found her. When everything fell apart and all she had were the pieces of herself, they put her back together and held her close.

They were everything Rumi needed.

She turned the train around, inspecting its fresh coat of paint. This was a betrayal and a filthy, underhanded trick. His absence and now reentrance into her life made her shake with both sadness and rage.

Rumi needed to slice something up again.

The Hunter let her right hand go lax by her side, her sword glittering to life in seconds—steadfast and lethal. Rumi gnashed her teeth as she flung the toy train across the room. Her feet moved with a choreography she knew since birth. Her body twisted as she drew back her sword, preparing for a swing. She leapt for the skies.

Rumi’s feet thudded quietly against the floor as her lungs gulped down air. The toy train lay before her, split in two, separated into its purple and blue halves. She let her body rest from the exertion again, her hand pressed against her side.

“Now you’re making me nervous.”

Rumi didn’t have to turn around to know who that was. How could she ever forget a voice like Jinu’s, after all?

“No more teddy bears and choo choo trains?” His tone wasn’t as cheeky as he wanted it to be. Even before Rumi turned around, she knew his shoulders would be so high against his head he could wear them as earrings.

Rumi’s heart cried in her chest. “What are you doing here, Jinu?”

“I had to see you,” he said after a second of silence. If he were honest, he’d tell her he didn’t know. If he were honest, maybe he wouldn’t be here at all. 

The Saja Boys were each given an early-morning mission to kick off their master plan. Abby left, rather giddy, to steal a camera. Baby was tasked with dressing in all black and robbing as many elderly civilians as possible, who wouldn’t be so easily believed when they claimed their robber had purple hands. Mystery waited till Baby’s return to buy any extra supplies they’d need in human form. Romance was spying, gathering information on how to work their new device. 

Jinu tasked himself with stealing a phone, among other minor things. He was on his way to snag it off someone in the train—he’d be lucky if he caught an unsuspecting human without their morning coffee.

The empty train stopped in view of Huntr/x tower, and he couldn’t tear himself away from it.

He had to see her.

Rumi’s scoff brought him back into the moment. “You had to see me?” she sneered, but there was more sadness behind it than malice. “Now? Do you only want to see me when it’s convenient for you?”

Ouch. He deserved that. 

“It’s not convenient for me to be here,” Jinu explained slowly. Her eyes were wildfire against his skin. “It’s just the first time I thought I could slip away.”

Rumi remained silent as a stone. Her light brown eyes monitored the movement of his jaw, watching it compress and decompress. She recognized that little tic but couldn't place its meaning.

“I’m sorry,” he finally forced out. The words were clunky and raw on his tongue, first of their kind in centuries. “It was a shock for me to- to not be able to hide anymore.”

“So you sent Mystery instead, revealed my secret to my sisters through him, and now you’re sorry when the Honmoon remains strong?” 

It was his turn to be silent now, closing his eyes and looking away. “I need them to trust me,” Jinu admitted. “There was a very small grace period without Gwi-Ma before they realized someone had to be in charge. I had to make sure it was me.”

“Or what?”

“It would’ve been Baby, and you’d all be dead. Or we’d be dead.” He took a deep breath, gulped down his anger, and looked at her again. Jinu knew she had no reason to trust him. He could only hope she saw he was being… genuine. “I didn’t want to find out which.” 

Rumi was hesitant to trust him, to say the least. Jinu could be saying anything just to regain her good opinion. She knew he wouldn’t kill her. If he wanted to, he would’ve done so a long time ago. But Jinu could still deceive her to destroy the Honmoon.

Her mind told her that was exactly what his plan was. Her heart couldn’t bear to agree.

“And now they believe you?”

“Mostly,” he said somberly. “The hungry are hard to control.”

Truth rang so loud in the gym that it took the life from both of them. Suddenly, the lead singer’s reaction to the toy train seemed childish and extreme. Rumi spent so much time grieving her circumstances that she never considered his. She held quietly onto her shame, but her body loudly angled itself to hide the carcass behind her feet. 

Jinu just chuckled. “I didn’t come here just to give you toys, you know. I came to warn you.”

Yeah, that sounded right. He could trace his actions back to that reasoning easily. Jinu settled into his emotions like he always did with her, letting himself understand what brought his inner soul to move.

“Ok,” Rumi nodded for him to continue.

“The Saja Boys are making their return. Tomorrow morning, we’re releasing a teaser for our new song. Huntr/x needs to be ready because they’re done waiting around.” 

The lead singer bit down on her thumb. “We can’t do that in a day. Can you stall?”

“I can give you two days.”

“Ok,” she nodded. Rumi took a deep breath to settle the churning in her chest. Though Jinu's hands were empty, she felt he was holding the end of a rope tied around her heart. Every word was a pull that left her resisting movement. Rumi always knew she was a hopeless romantic, brought up on stolen romance novels kept in a treasure chest under her floorboards—far away from Celine's reach. She imagined that free, soft love which could conquer even demons and sin.

She was a hypocrite, telling Zoey she'd believe anything Mystery spouted. Here was Rumi, knowing her heart would go with Jinu when he teleported away.

Rumi couldn't let him go yet. Not yet just... one more word...

“Jinu, are you hungry too?”

“Yes.”

Her brows bunched up. He was lying to her—he had to be, and at the same time, Rumi knew he couldn't be. Her mind would catch up to her later, when she beat herself up for this interaction. For now, her heart was in control. “Why help us?”

“With Gwi-Ma gone… I haven’t thought of my shame as much. It comes and goes, but it has no one to scream in my ear with it,” Jinu responded. He could still hear the ghost of Gwi-Ma's sneer in his mind. That would never disappear. “Honmoon or no Honmoon, I’m trapped anyway.”

And he meant it. If the Honmoon broke, he'd be right back where he started. Gwi-Ma once told Jinu that he never served himself in the 400 years he'd known him—this could be an extension of that. Even chasing death, Jinu would get exactly what he wanted. He would escape the memories that plagued him. Even this could be the selfish part of him at play, wanting Rumi to remember him after he was gone. 

“Yeah…” she whispered.

Even her hushed voice was a song—a performance of sorrow and longing. Jinu was selfish enough to hope it was for him, even though the thought scared him.

There was so much to say between them. Jinu knew they didn’t have much more time—he had to go back to his people, and she had to write a song to fight them. He had to say something. Something to ease her guilt so he didn’t have to spend the night remembering that look on her face.

“Your plan didn’t work out like we thought, but I hope once we’re dead, you’ll have what you’ve always wanted,” Jinu told her. A real smile curled the corners of his mouth at the thought of her living without patterns, without boundaries, while he finally got his rest.

Rumi winced as she nodded. The thought of him dead just so her patterns could disappear made her stomach feel like she was traveling the high seas. Her hands wrapped around her sides, her patterns embracing her skin in a ghastly second hug. 

“You take care, Jinu.”

Chapter Text

“I’m not doing that.”

The demon boyband groaned in response.

They were filming for most of their day in addition to all they did yesterday, not including the hours spent bickering about semantics. Jinu had this “great idea” on his supply run about expanding their filming locations so the fans wouldn’t catch on to the suspiciously simple setup of their new song’s teaser. This included another night of searching for a water source, which Abby found in the form of an abandoned bathhouse. 

Some hours of cleaning, lighting, and setup later, and they managed to turn an infection-ridden circular tub into a churning, crimson lagoon. The steaming portal of desire churned in mesmerizing circles, luring its victims forward with each pass of red waves. 

Mystery thought this demonic setting would free him from being the sole focus of the camera. He was proven wrong the entire damn day. The camera never seemed to leave him alone and it was really starting to grate on him.

Abby instructed Mystery on how to move while Baby filmed and angered him beyond belief. The demon was solely preoccupied with pushing Mystery's buttons. Romance sat in a dusty corner, a bulky, cheap computer in his lap as he edited yesterday's footage. And Jinu stood around doing nothing.

Typical. 

“Mystery,” Romance started with a strict, almost maternal tone, looking up from his computer screen, “we need to be unforgettable. I know this is more Abby’s world, but he can’t pass as a human on video.”

Mystery’s frown deepened, forcing his fangs to poke at his bottom lip. The longer he spent without Gwi-Ma’s omniscient influence, the more he grew to resent being puppeted. Water sloshed at his thighs as he shifted under the weight of their collective gaze, crossing his arms when he couldn’t find something to claw at.

Or someone.

Jinu technically “banned” him from any more physical altercations, but everything seemed to be testing Mystery today. In his opinion, Abby and Baby in particular hadn’t been punched enough.

“I’m not taking off my clothes.”

He hated how childish it sounded. The rest of them tossed a knowing look between each other, sharing a joke Mystery wasn’t allowed to know.

“Don’t be dramatic, it’s just your shirt,” Abby sighed as he rolled his eyes. “We’re not asking you to strip.”

Mystery looked directly at Jinu as if to say, He’s being a nuisance. 

Their leader groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “Can nothing be simple with you three?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Baby snapped.

“It means,” Jinu brought his hands together and took a deep breath to mellow his frustration, “that Romance is the only one who hasn’t actively caused trouble. The rest of you are nothing but.”

“Thanks, Boss,” Romance snorted, not even raising his eyes from the screen.

Abby pouted. “I haven’t caused any trouble.”

Because he wasn’t allowed to respond with violence, Mystery decided to be snarky and said, “You nearly strangled me twice.”

“And disappeared on your supply run for an extended amount of time,” Baby smiled. He licked his lips at Abby’s visible discomfort, enjoying the sight of his squirming. 

Jinu’s brow arched. “Disappeared?”

Baby shrugged as his lips twisted upward. They all knew he held more information, might’ve even followed the demon, but he’d never give it up so easily when Abby’s performance entertained him. He circled his prey like a snake, twisting his long body around them until they had nowhere to go and nothing to do but panic at their own demise.

“Abby,” Jinu warned, shifting forward in silent accusation.

“He's lying. I just took the scenic route back."

It was almost painful to hear a lie that bad. Mystery's body grew tense at the way Baby's body casually leaned over his camera. 

“Scenic route. That’s what we’re calling it?” Baby purred and tapped his fingernails against the camera’s body.

Something in the air snapped.

Abby’s nostrils flared—fluffy ears pressed flush against his skull. Suddenly, the red steam that danced around them looked to come from Abby’s taut body. “If you have something to say, spit it out.”

Romance finally looked up from his computer. His eyes found Jinu's, and a slender pink brow arched. Do something, it said. 

“Go on, Baby,” Jinu’s scorn turned to the bloodthirsty demon.

The demon rolled his golden eyes. “I said what I had to say. Abby disappeared on his mission, around Huntr/x tower no less, after boasting for days about his seduction plan.” He listed elements off his fingers and motioned to the ground as if puzzle pieces clicked together before them. “I mean. It’s obvious. He went to seduce that hunter girl. What was her name again?”

The question was too innocent and landed oh so softly on its target—Mystery. Abby bristled beside him, but the older demon only stared in Baby’s direction.

He was after more than just her name, Mystery was sure of it. Zoey was merely a cover for his true intentions. Deeper within his words was a coiled snake with venom that questioned one of two things—Mystery's strength or Mystery's motives. If it were the former Baby needed reassurance on, Mystery would gladly prove to him just how strong he could be. If it were the latter...

Something pinched in Mystery's gut. 

“Zoey.”

Baby snapped his fingers as if the memory finally returned to him. “The littlest hunter, yes. Zoey. Did our pretty raven-haired romantic bite your bait, Abby?” he asked with a smile that bared his sparkling fangs. In the low red light, Mystery swore his pupils looked like two fine slits. “I’ve been curious since your return. You did look flushed.”

Mystery bit down on his instinct to give Baby something to chew on—a knuckle sandwich. He tried to think of jellyfish swimming between them with their deadly barbs, a physical obstacle he couldn’t overcome to keep him rooted in place. His serpentine gold eyes found him through their squishy, translucent bodies.

The littlest hunter. 

As if he knew a thing about her.

“She wasn’t tempted,” Abby bit out—admission as well as anger lined his tone.

Baby hummed—thoughtful as he eyed the muscled demon. “What a shame. She was enchanted by your physique in the bathhouse," his gaze shifted back to Mystery, "Maybe she’s looking for a demon who’s more slight.”

Jinu caught the tension lining Mystery’s body moments before it would’ve snapped. “Alright, that’s enough.” He moved forward with long, heavy steps and stood right behind Baby. Two pairs of gold eyes fought for the last unspoken show of control. Jinu's patience was wearing thin, and the group knew it. "You've had your fun. Back off."

The demon flicked his tongue across his lips like a viper. He must've smelled what they all knew for certain, because he stored away his sadism and leaned away from his predatory stance on the camera.

“You won’t be taking off your shirt, Mystery.” The return to their previous conversation was so abrupt it gave the room whiplash, but they dared not question him. “We’ll have a different reveal.”

Romance frowned, looking up from their stolen computer. “Does that mean I need to delete what we have?” 

“No,” Jinu shook his head. “We only add on. Let’s follow that plan of seduction, Abby.”

~~🐢~~🐢~~

Another notebook found itself flung in the trash, followed by the frustrated scream from the songwriter.

Zoey flopped back into her swirly chair and let the impact twirl her around. Colorful walls swam in her vision, broken by her several posters that were scattered along them. She dug the heels of her palms into her eyes as her heart hammered in her chest. The world was a stifled song she desperately tried to hear—melody, rhyme, and reason trapped in the seams.

The air pressed against her like bricks. Zoey pushed with all her might to swivel back to her desk and pull forth a new, blank journal. Her pen slipped between her weak fingers—the ink that painted her page creating nothing but chicken scratch. 

It meant too much. The future of their world rested in her writing, just as it would until Rumi and Mira took the torch with their hypnotizing voices and dancing. For now, the blaze only ignited Zoey’s skin.

She had nothing to show for it.

Actually, that was a lie. She had exactly three verses that didn’t match Huntr/x’s power or their brand. They were tucked away in a yellow-purple jellyfish notebook—settled into the pages as its lonely inhabitants. 

I’m breathing for you,

For the reasons you can’t know.

Eternity’s a killer…

It was stupid, cringey, and horribly, hopelessly romantic. Zoey couldn’t let it see the light of day, and yet she couldn’t toss it in the garbage the same way she did her other works. It felt stupidly hers.

Her stupid little crush made her act like a stupid little girl who couldn't be trusted with the job she fought to earn.

Zoey's phone buzzed against her pillow, drawing her attention to the forgotten world around her. The Hunter pushed against the floor with her foot lightly to turn herself toward the noise. The air stilled inside her lungs and refused to enter her body even as she breathed.

It seemed even the city knew what it was.

With her computer in hand, Zoey slipped away from her desk and crawled onto her soft duvet. It was Bobby, messaging them in a frantic spiral to check YouTube. He said everything they already knew.

"It's the Saja Boys."

"They have a video."

"They're back, girls."

Mira and Rumi were in Zoey’s room seconds later, piling onto her bed in a stampede while she opened her laptop. They sat in a tense, knowing silence as Zoey opened the website and clicked to her recommended videos.

There it was. The newest hit video from a channel called SajaBoys. 

Its title was three dots followed by an exclamation mark—the thumbnail, their famous lion logo in a demonic red glare. 

“It’s already at three thousand views,” Mira whispered, pointing to the number that seemed to triple as Zoey clicked on the video.

Her blood ran cold immediately as the teaser started. This melody… It was from her nightmare.

The chanting marched in the background—pray. for. me. now.—right before the chorus sang in Latin. It remained throughout the video, a chilling promise underscoring the haunting meaning behind the chanting. 

A red lion flickered to life, bathing the man praying underneath it in crimson.

“Dies irae illa,” they sang as one. The man's human hands fell from his chest to his lap in a single smooth motion, cupped like a pitcher spilling water to his knees. 

It had to be Mystery.

He stood in slow, calculated flashes, each focusing on the little elements of him—the red light against his neck when he looked over his shoulder, the way his muscles worked under his white shirt as his spine straightened, the slight tilt of his head to the left to highlight his jaw.

“Vos solva in favilla.”

Zoey’s breath was permanently caught in her throat.

His feet approached a gleaming red pool of water, black shoes submerging before the image cut to a visual from behind him. Mystery’s damp shirt clung to his wide shoulders—to his toned arms—in just the ways she imagined from her dream. His hair shone red under the lion as he waded into the water, thigh deep, and dropped to his knees without a splash.

“Maledictus erus.”

Eyes closed, head tipped back to the glowing lion, bangs lightly parted to show a glimpse of two closed eyes, Mystery lowered himself into the churning red water.

A purple hand marred with demon patterns reached from the depths, breaking the surface of the water with long, clawed fingers. “In flamas eternum!” It curled and twisted leisurely, inviting the viewer to admire the red gleam of water droplets running from its palms.

Five demon faces flickered quickly between each other, resting like corpses right under the water's surface, eyes softly closed as in a romanticized death. Jinu’s face was the only one to return as he was quietly lifted from the water. Red clung to his face, and his soaked hair hung back instead of framing his strong features.

“I’ll be your idol.”

His eyes opened, gold and hungry. The lion flickered in their reflection.

Huntr/x stared at the dark “replay” screen. Mira’s fists clenched in rage, gathering up her oversized bear sweater in their fiery grasp. Rumi looked damn near heartbroken as she ran through those last brief moments in her mind.

Zoey was frozen in a cold terror.

This was the song that haunted her vulnerable sleeping soul, that whispered its existence into the uncomfortable silences she occasionally found herself in. Even now, it ran a cold claw around the shell of her ear and sang.

Living in your mind now, too late, 'cus you’re mine now.

The realization of what came next had her trembling. It was no longer just a terrible nightmare, but a warning of the future—of a world engulfed in Gwi-Ma’s pink fire and eternal suffering as her soul was ripped to endless halves.

“We need a song,” Mira spoke through gritted teeth. She slammed the laptop closed before the viewer count could refresh, but the trio knew this would be everywhere.

The demons had done their job.

Zoey couldn’t breathe—behind her brown eyes were flames and screaming. Her hands shook violently as Mira and Rumi grabbed hold of them. They meant to steady her, but it only shocked her into movement. She tore herself from their grasp and flung herself back against her headboard, eyes as wild as her frenzied heart. 

“Zoey?”

The Honmoon rumbled beneath them.

“Zoey!” Rumi lurched forward, grabbing at her shoulders. Her sleeves rolled up with the motion.

Demon patterns.

It was like Zoey disappeared and left behind a frantic creature in her skin. Her eyes slammed shut as she dodged, throwing herself off the bed. Her body scrambled to her desk but lacked enough coordination to pull herself up. The Hunter's eyes flew open as she clawed at her swirly chair, her gaze holding to Rumi's like startled prey. It fell to its side with a loud crash and Zoey pressed herself underneath her desk.

Mira was pulling her from the protective den, lifting her into lithe, strong arms and pressing her face into her shoulder. Two wide eyes couldn't be stopped from digging themselves from Mira's hold and wildly scanning the room over her shoulder. Rumi shuddered as they landed on her. There was a moment where all Zoey saw was those patterns again, cast in a pink, blazing world.

They were all going to die.

Everyone was going to die, and somehow, it was all Zoey's fault. The Honmoon warned her because it was all her fault. She would fail them, turn Rumi into the demon she feared becoming, kill Mira, and turn a world of humans into a world of livestock.

“Zoey, breathe,” Mira commanded.

I’m breathing for you.

Her heart slowed gradually. Strange, as it wasn't Zoey's voice that sang in her mind. 

It was Mystery's.

She returned to them—their kind and guilty Zoey—but the damage was done.

A single tendril of their unbeatable, unbreakable, golden Honmoon snapped. Somewhere in the world, there was a weak spot.

And they had no song to fix it.