Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rumi remembered the final battle clearly.

After Jinu had melted into Gwi-Ma's flames, he had given her his soul in the form of a brand new weapon. Rumi recalled the battle cry of her voice tearing through the blazing fire as she delivered the final blow, cleaving the demon king in half.

A loud bellow resounded from the wall of flames, and Rumi had watched the ripple of the new Honmoon vibrate across the plane, red waves shifting into strings of iridescence.

Rumi had barely processed their victory when she’d felt a tug deep in her spine, and the sting of something scalding pressing deep against the skin of her chest. Her vision spiraled, and the last she heard were the fading yells of Mira and Zoey, as if they were getting farther and farther.

For a while, Rumi felt as if she'd been floating between the realm of life and death. Swirls of mist stretched around her, as far as the eyes could see. She had tried to move but the weight of gravity forbade her. Rumi briefly wondered if she was well on her way to the afterlife.

Just when Rumi was about to surrender to the weightlessness and accept the embrace of what she thought would be eternal sleep, a faded silhouette floated in the distance. A flowing melody echoed through the expanse, something akin to melancholy.

Gentle hands, hushed voices, affectionate smiles, and a familiar song.

Two blurry figures stood against a blinding light, seemingly calling out to her.

Warmth spread across her chest, but before she could distinguish the faces, a sudden pitch black enveloped her. Warmth turned to ice cold, and a foreboding dread sank in the pit of her stomach. She was falling into a deep, seemingly never ending chasm.

“—culous.. can’t trust…. out of your mind—?”

Biting voices slowly roused her up. Her muscles screamed in protest, utterly exhausted and weightless as Rumi’s consciousness returned. The first thing she felt was the soft covers of some clothing underneath her, like a cushion.

“—reason we’re all stuck here. We can’t let her stay with us!”

Rumi finally found enough strength to stir awake, her mind too groggy to process the harsh words, never realizing who they were directed at.

“Oh finally, sleeping beauty’s awake. About damn time.”

“Baby,” a familiar voice threatened in a low voice.

Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, Rumi’s vision slowly cleared. She immediately realized they were in some sort of.. hut? Dark wood stood as walls to brace the ceiling that looked like it was literally seconds from toppling down over her. She was resting on some sort of mattress, a thin blanket that looked more like a dirty rag resting over her inert figure. She slowly propped herself up on her elbow.

A shadow casted over her and crouched down beside the mattress to support her back.

“Rumi, how are you feeling?”

It took Rumi a second to turn her head and come face to face with none other than Jinu. His demon patterns stretched across his skin, eyes completely devoid of the golden hues that usually came with his inherent demon nature—what he always looked like whenever he held her eyes. Instead, his were that of a much warmer, gentler gaze.

Instead of answering him, Rumi’s eyes scanned the faces of the rest behind Jinu, all ranging from indifference to annoyance.

The nearest to the bed was who she remembered was their maknae, Baby. His aquamarine hair stood out the most, arms crossed as he scrutinized her from head to toe like she was a specimen under a microscope. He squinted his eyes when they made eye contact. The next were two members who had similar shades of pink hair—Romance and Abby. Romance was seated on the dingy couch by the far wall, legs crossed as he leisurely examined his nails. When he looked up at her, he made a show of flicking his hair. Abby was on the other end of the couch, a slight eyebrow raised as he watched the scene unfold. Then on the round table on the other side of the room was Mystery, face as unreadable as ever with his exaggeratingly elongated bangs. Rumi wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her. Just like Jinu, they all had their patterns glowing amidst the dimly-lit hut, but unlike him, they regarded her with cold, golden eyes, the tension palpable in the air.

“Where am I?” She finally found her voice, turning back to Jinu, who blinked uncomfortably at her question.

“Rumi,” he started, “do you remember what happened at Namsan tower? You defeated Gwi-Ma.”

Flashes of the last battle came to memory. Rumi nodded.

“The Honmoon was sealed right after,” Jinu explained, although Rumi noted he was carefully stringing his words along, as if he was talking to a kid. “And.. well, at least for now, we no longer hear Gwi-Ma in our heads. I think it’s safe to say he’s gone.”

“So where are we?” Rumi asked again after a beat. She didn’t fail to notice the grimace on Jinu’s face.

“Rumi, listen. I know it’s a lot to take in, but—”

“The demon realm.”

The words dropped in the room like a hollow block. Rumi snapped towards Baby the same time Jinu did, his declaration ringing in the air and bouncing loudly like a drum in Rumi’s ears.

Demon.. realm?

“Baby,” Jinu sighed exasperatingly, standing up to face him with a tight-knit frown. “Can’t you read the room?”

“Speak for yourself,” Baby huffed, rolling his eyes. “At the rate you were talking you would have had three business days to tell her. She’s not a kid, she can handle it.”

“It’s called tact, which you so clearly lack. For once, can’t you just wait?”

“Since when were you the compassionate type? Look, you can baby her all you want. But just because you like her doesn’t mean we have to!”

Rumi had tuned out the rest of their conversation to regard herself. Her eyes dropped to her arms, and when she registered the familiar purple patterns swirling like tattoos across her skin, she felt her throat clog up.

“I don’t like—whatever! That’s not the point! She’s—” Rumi vaguely noticed Jinu stopping to glance at her. “Rumi..? What are you do—hey—”

Disappointment. That was all Rumi could distinguish from the mush of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her. She didn’t even realize she was clawing at the patterns on her own skin until Jinu returned to her side to grab her hands. She vaguely realized something wet and warm trickling down her arms, and the bundle of tears that were beginning to form at the corners of her eyes as she bit her lip in an effort to feel something that wasn’t from the sinking pit in her stomach.

The demon realm. She had fallen. Fallen so deep, she’d ended up in the one place she’s been so desperately trying to escape from. Ironic.

She’d sealed the Honmoon, but at what cost?

“Rumi—you’re hurting yourself.” Jinu held her arms firmly but not ungently as he tried to placate her. “You’re still exhausted, calm down and—”

“No.” Rumi forcefully shoved him away, not even daring to look him in the eye. She buried her face in her palms, a brief desperate prayer that this was all a dream. A nightmare.

No. No. No. No. No.

How was she going to get back? She couldn’t afford to die here—it took everything in her to accept the blood of a demon that flowed in her veins, only for her to wind up down here. She’d seen it—her patterns had shifted to a lighter, warmer glow back at the stadium, during the final battle. Why were they suddenly back to this ominous shade of purple?

“I told you she wouldn’t be able to handle it.“ This time, it was Romance’s voice. “She spent all her life up on the surface. What makes you think she can survive down here, Jinu?”

“Yeah. At this point, killing her would be her best ticket out of—”

Rumi jerked upright, something heavy and powerful tugging her chest; consequently, there was the faintest vibration that spread across her entire body. It took her a few seconds to process the silence in the room.

The conversation had suddenly stopped, and when Rumi looked up, all the guys were gaping at her.

Baby was the first to break the silence. “How.. did you do that?”

Rumi blinked at him. “Do what?”

“That—” he vaguely gestured to the air— “thing, you just did. I swore that energy came from you.”

Energy? Rumi pressed a palm over her chest, inhaling deeply as she tried to recall that sudden powerful tug. It had come from absolutely nowhere, all of a sudden.

Jinu stepped forward. “Alright, that’s enough. Rumi is clearly still tired from the battle. Let her rest and—”

“How can we even trust her?”

Rumi directed her gaze at the couch where Abby sat, arms crossed and an even stare focused right at her.

“Don’t forget, Jinu, we were enemies right up until, what? A few hours ago? Her hunter friends even tried to kill—”

“Uh, correction: they did manage to kill us,” Romance added. Abby shot him a pointed look.

“Yes, because we clearly need the specifics,” Abby huffed, sounding very offended for some reason. “Anyway, regardless of how you feel about her, it doesn’t change the fact that the rest of us aren't comfortable with her around.”

Jinu heaved an even breath, as if he was already at the end of his patience.

“In case you couldn’t get it, Abby, she’s a half-demon. One of us. No matter what happened in the past, we’re all stuck here. And I’d appreciate it if we refrain from breaking each other’s necks while we look for a way out.”

Abby eyed Rumi.

“Once a hunter, always a hunter.” Rumi thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, but she swore Abby’s canines just glinted, and a sinister hue flashed in his golden gaze. “She’s already here, weakened, five-to-one. Why don’t we—”

Rumi’s finger twitched. But before she could even summon her sword in reflex, Jinu stepped in front of her to block her vision.

“Enough.”

She couldn’t see his face, but that one word alone halted everything in the room. Rumi glanced up from her position on the cot. Jinu must have done something, probably one of his demon abilities, or perhaps the Saja Boys just knew when to listen to him, but almost immediately, a weighted silence hushed the cramped room.

For a few tense seconds, Rumi watched from behind Jinu as he stared down each of the Saja Boys, as if daring them to challenge him. She knew it wasn’t really the right time—but, perhaps, her heart fluttered just a bit when it finally dawned on her that he was probably (most likely) the only reason why they hadn’t jumped on her.

“No one is touching her. And at least until I find a way out of this, we’re all staying civilized—as civilized as demons can be—around each other. No killing and that’s final. Am I understood?”

A beat passed. Baby was the first one to react by rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in the air before letting them fall back to his side as he headed to the door. Rumi swore she heard him mutter “Loverboy” underneath his breath. Jinu didn’t comment on that.

Romance shrugged and stood from the couch, stretching his arms over his head. “Frankly, I couldn’t care less.” His expression shifted and he threw her a wink. “Besides, I don’t mind living with a beautiful lady—it’s a fresh change from these brutes.”

Before Rumi could react, Abby grunted, mimicking a gag. “Shove it, Romance. She’s clearly off-limits.” He made a point to look at Jinu.

Romance shrugged non-commitally. “Worth a shot. I’m just saying If she ever gets tired of Jinu—”

Jinu forced out a cough. Rumi felt her own face heating up.

“Thanks for all your input,” Jinu said through gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes at them. “Now can we please stop with—”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Romance sang breezily, hand flicking up like he was waving an insignificant fly. He padded over to the door, and it just hit Rumi that they were all probably inside Jinu’s room. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to sort things out. Poor Rumi probably still has so many questions after waking up; we’ll leave the tour guide role to you, Jinu.”

When he shut the door to his room, the silence returned. Abby was the next one to up and leave the room, but not before he sighed and gave one last look towards Jinu.

“Just for the record, don’t expect me to babysit her. She’s your responsibility, Jinu.”

Rumi finally found her voice, having been fed up with all the snarky comments she’s been subjected to ever since waking up.

“I don’t need to be watched over, thank you very much.”

Abby’s golden gaze slid towards her. He scoffed.

“Suit yourself. Also, might want to tone down that attitude a bit, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” Rumi hissed. “And full offense, but you don’t exactly have the brightest personality in the room either.”

“Takes one to know one, huh?”

Rumi bristled, but Jinu stepped in for what seemed like the nth time. “Abby—just, go. Now.”

The door shut. Jinu finally faced Rumi after a beat and sighed so loudly she almost felt bad. Almost. Maybe if she wasn’t stuck in this hellhole with demons who wanted her dead, she’d have more sympathy for him.

Jinu palmed his face, one hand resting on his hip.

“Listen, Rumi. I’m sorry about them—they’re not used to..”

“To being stuck within a ten-meter-radius with a hunter? Yeah, I can tell,” she huffed, not bothering to hide her irritation. It wasn’t like she wanted to be here. If it had been up to her, Rumi would have preferred spending her well-deserved break at a bathhouse in the human realm. With Zoey and Mira.

Immediately at the thought of her two girls, a pang of longing thrummed in her chest. Her eyes dropped to her lap, fists balling the blanket. And when she caught the swirling patterns decorating her arms, her heart dropped even lower.

“In the end, it was all useless,” she said no louder than a hollow whisper. “I was stupid to think the Honmoon could save me. Could fix me.”

“That’s not true. You never needed fixing—you realized that yourself.”

“And yet here I am.”

“That’s not your fault,” Jinu’s voice shook with sincerity. Rumi didn’t have the heart to face him. “None of this is. If there’s anyone you want to blame, it should be me.”

The memory of his betrayal flashed in her eyes. He’d sent demons disguised as her closest friends to unravel her deepest secrets onstage for all to see. After.. after everything they’ve been through. She recalled the way he had left her, picking up the pieces he’d swore to carry with her.

Rumi bit her lip. Indeed, she had every right in the world to lash out at him. To hate him. To resent him. She never trusted anyone else with her patterns—and the one person she did trust with her heart ended up breaking her in ways she never once thought possible for a person to be broken.

She was meant to hate him, and yet..

It was all unfair. Rumi had spent her whole life fixated on the idea that the Honmoon turning gold could fix all her problems. Now here she was, isolated from everything she’s ever fought to protect.

Her eyes stung. Something blurry filled her vision, and her throat felt itchy.

Oh, great, Rumi. You can’t possibly be about to cry right now.

A warmth enveloping her hand was what had her blinking the unshed tears away. He looked at the much larger hand resting over hers, riddled with patterns the same as her own.

Rumi flitted her gaze over towards Jinu, who had knelt beside the cot and was staring at their connected hands with meaningful contemplation. She felt him tighten his grasp over her.

“I.. won’t let it all go to waste,” he muttered, eyes fixed on their hands, as if he couldn’t dare bring himself to look her in the eyes. “I promise. This time.. I’ll make things right. I’ll get you out of here, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

His words, laced with heavy responsibility and some other thing Rumi couldn’t quite name, replaced the heavy silence in the room.

Rumi finally figured out the reason she could never truly hate him even after his betrayal. How could she, when he had once given up his own soul in exchange for hers? How could she, when even she had seen the misery and regret in his eyes right after that terrible memory, as if him hurting her was him hurting himself?

Rumi parted her lips, the words hanging at the tip of her tongue, when—

“Um…”

Both Jinu and Rumi startled out of their skin. Jinu jumped a few feet backwards, arms raised high up in the air you’d have thought they’d been caught doing something illegal—like holding hands, for example.

Rumi turned and saw Mystery standing by the foot of the bed.

“Mystery,” Jinu breathed, a hand on his chest as he swallowed. His eyes were blown wide. “How—what are..—how long have you been standing there?”

She couldn’t see his face, but Rumi was pretty sure Mystery just blinked at them.

“I never left.”

Huh.

Jinu seemed to have had the same thought.

“You.. you were here all along?”

Mystery nodded. Rumi watched the way Jinu’s face erupted into a full on blushing mess.

“And you didn’t bother to make a sound?”

“I did call you, several times, at that, but.. you seemed busy.” Unlike the other Saja boys, there was no hint of provocation nor teasing in him, and somehow that just made things worse.

Jinu groaned and ran a palm down his face. His ears were blood red. “You should’ve been louder. And please tell me you didn’t hear all.. that..”

“The ‘you never needed fixing’ part or the ‘I’ll get you out of here, even if it’s the last thing I do’—”

“Wait—wait—STOP!” Jinu waved his arms in a hurried panic. He rushed forward, grabbed Mystery by the shoulders and swiftly whirled him around to face the door. With a crooked, awkward smile he gave Rumi one last glance. “I’ll call you when dinner’s ready—get some rest.”

Then he shuffled Mystery outside, shutting the door behind him.

Rumi watched, face just as flushed and mind a whirring mess as the silence finally returned. She stared at the door for what felt like forever before she fell back down on the bed, grabbed the pillow behind her head and threw it over her face.

Staying under the same roof with demons was certainly not in her To-Do list, but somehow, Rumi had a feeling that would be the least of her worries. 

Chapter Text

The melody sounded eerily like a siren's. 

Tendrils of misty fog curled above the ground, mimicking puffs of smoke as if she were above the clouds. Weightless, her limbs hung suspended like a puppeteered marionette; it was the same scene she'd been plunged into before waking up in the demon realm. 

Her eyes felt heavy as lead, yet Rumi forced herself to strain her vision, desperate to pinpoint the source of the tune. There were no words sung along, just an obscure yet evocative humming—almost poignant, stirring . Like a sense of somber longing shrouded beneath the harmony. The song sounded.. ancient .

Her surroundings seemed to hum along. It took her a moment to notice the strings vibrating over the mist, lighting it up. She looked up and there she saw. 

Something stood in the distance, its edges hazy and blurred by the fog collecting around it, but Rumi was certain it was shaped like a tree more than anything. There was a tug in the depths of her stomach at the mere sight of it—beckoning her closer.  

She took one step, and a rapping noise broke through her vision. 

Rumi flinched awake. Someone was tapping against the door. She sat up on the bed and allowed herself time to process the fact that her situation was not a dream. She had sealed the Honmoon. She was still stuck in the Underworld, still with her purple patterns. And she was hungry. 

The door creaked open, showing Mystery peeking in. 

“Dinner's ready.”

Rumi blinked a few times at him before she nodded. “Right. Uh.. I'll be there.”

“Okay,” he said, but didn't move. It was a few awkward seconds of staring at the other until Rumi decided to get up. 

As soon as the thin blanket slid off her, Rumi's eyes zeroed in on the black long-sleeved overshirt she was donning over her Idol Awards outfit. She didn't own the shirt, as far as she remembered, and after wracking her brain as to why it looked familiar, she realized it was the exact same shirt Jinu used to wear to their late-night/early morning meet ups. Tucking that info away with a warm feeling blooming in her chest, Rumi cleared her throat and padded out of the room. Mystery was still waiting for her outside. 

Rumi didn't know what to expect when it came to ‘demon houses’ but this one seemed to be leaning more towards pauper-level of run-down than dark and gloomy. Wooden floorboards creaked with each step, dark reclaimed wood stood as walls that fanned down the hallway. Gaps between the paneling peered into dark holes, as if the person who had hammered it in just decided to stack them over each other and called it a day. 

The hallway was short. Mystery led her down a series of doors, which she guessed opened into the other boys’ rooms, until the end of the hallway widened into a living room. A living room slash dining room slash kitchen area.  

Already sitting at the table was Baby, hand on his chin, a bored look dripping from his expression while he chewed on a gum. Romance and Abby were playing a card game on the sofa, a tense staredown between them as Romance eyed Abby’s hand of two cards with a look that seemed to burn through him. 

His hand hovering, Romance’s eyes darted across the two cards, eventually settling for the one on the right. Abby moaned his frustration just in time for Romance to slap his cards down in front of him in a triumphant smirk. 

“ Aaand I win. Again.” Romance puffed his chest out proudly. “Two rounds.”

Abby chucked his last card on the sofa, showing ‘Old Maid’ printed across it. He leaned against the armrest with his hands folded behind his head. Rumi was totally not looking at the way his arms flexed at the movement. 

Abby huffed. “You sure you didn't use your powers to peek through my cards?”

“Pathetic,” Baby muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. He jerked his head just in time to avoid a flying pillow, nearly hitting Rumi. 

Abby hissed at him. “Says the one who eats his card whenever he thinks his opponent isn't looking.”

“Just admit you're not creative enough to win.” 

Romance's brows rose, tapping a finger to his chin. “So that's why our deck was missing a few cards.”

“Who's to say you didn't eat them too?” Abby accused him, earning a flabbergasted look from Romance. 

“ Excusez-moi?” He placed a hand on his chest, offended. “I have decorum!”  

Baby snorted, rolling his eyes. “Right. You sulk for a whole day every time you lose Uno.”

“That's because everybody always gangs up on me!” 

Rumi watched the three of them hurl insults and excuses, the clamor filling up the quaint living room. Exaggerated gestures were thrown into the mix. 

“Is it always… like this?” 

She watched Mystery pick up the pillow that had been thrown earlier. 

“You get used to it,” he mused, before he guided her towards the dining table and even pulled the chair for her to sit. Rumi was mildly touched at the gesture. At least somebody had manners in this house. Although he was weird at times, too. 

“Alright, children, that's enough rough housing, geez. At least pretend to have some grace in front of our guest.”

Rumi turned to see Jinu standing by the stove, realizing he was the only one among the boys who was in his human appearance. He twisted the knob off and reached for his mittens to pick up the casserole, before turning around and revealing his pink apron with a blue tiger poorly stitched on it. It reminded her of his pet tiger, Derpy. 

“You cook?” Rumi raised a brow, lowkey impressed as she watched Jinu walk over and carefully place the casserole at the center of the dining table. 

“Between Abby's fire hazard risks and Romance's food poisoning, yes. Somebody decent has to step up.”

“ I cook decently, by the way,” Baby piped up from the other end of the table, lifting his chin proudly. 

“ Yeah,” Abby drawled sarcastically. “Instant ramen. And charge us while you're at it.”

“A demon's gotta do what a demon's gotta do.” Baby didn't bother to look at him as he stretched his arm over the table and lifted the lid off the casserole, licking his lips. “I don't do free labor.”

“You don't even pay rent .”

Rumi's nose twitched slightly at the aroma that permeated the air as soon as Baby popped off the lid. It was both earthy and pungent simultaneously, like a mixture of root vegetables and garlic, and when Rumi took a peek inside the casserole, she almost doubted her eyes. 

“You eat.. fire?”

Rumi tried blinking the sight away, fully convinced she was hallucinating. But when wisps of blue fire still cracked around the edges of the casserole, threatening to consume it whole, she was completely at a loss. 

“Native dish,” Jinu supplied, shrugging. “It's practically just soup in the demon realm. The taste isn't that much different from the soup above.”

Rumi was skeptical. She watched in mild horror how Baby scooped up a portion of the flaming soup, the fire dancing around his spoon as he filled his own bowl. There was certainly a mushy liquid at the base, the fire over it acting more like some sort of icing. Not that it made it look any more edible. 

“Um, that thing's burning.” Rumi pointed at the fire while sharply looking at Jinu. “How do you expect me to eat it exactly?”

Jinu took off his apron and shared a look with Baby, before sighing. 

“It's not as bad as it looks.” Jinu took Rumi's bowl and scooped up a portion with a ladle. “Since you're staying with us for now, better to get used to the food here.”

Abby and Romance had walked over, eagerly looking over Jinu's shoulders. The former smacked his lips hungrily.

“Been eating too much surface food lately. This is exactly what I need.”

Romance curled his hand and popped a kiss on the tips of his fingers. “ Aussi . Jinu , have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?”

Shivering, Jinu shot him a look of disgust while shoving Abby's face away from his shoulder.

“Just shut up and eat. Empty flattery won't spare you from washing the dishes,” he said, placing a bowl of soup in front of Rumi, who narrowed her eyes at it. She realized something and looked at Romance. 

“You speak French?”

Romance nodded enthusiastically with a wide smile, evidently pleased at the recognition.

“The language of love, mon cher chasseur. Perfect for yours truly.”

Rumi deadpanned at him. Jinu sighed for the umpteenth time. “You'll get used to him,” he said. “Now eat your soup before it gets cold.”

Ironic, Rumi thought, returning her attention to her flaming soup, wondering if it was even capable of turning cold. Realizing she really was in no place to complain, she picked her spoon and hesitantly ladled the mushy blue. It was literally glowing the same way a fire would, and even as she raised it to her face, she was pretty sure she was going to burn her tongue. 

Rumi mentally counted three seconds before she sipped the edge of the spoon. She failed to notice five pairs of eager eyes gauging her reaction. 

Swallowing, Rumi braced herself, but when the burning sensation never came, and instead was the more rich brothy texture warming her tongue, an involuntary hum flowed past her lips. An underlying umami mellowed the heat, a flavor that reminded her of the spicy kimchi jjigae Mira enjoyed so much. 

“It's.. good?” Rumi eyed the soup again. Jinu looked proud, a ‘ told ya so’ lacing his expression.

Soon after, the rest of the Saja boys were seated around the table. Jinu sat on Rumi's right at one end. It went as smoothly as a dinner would, save for the occasional comments Baby and Abby hurled at each other. Romance muttered lyrical poems here and there, somehow inspired by the soup (Rumi didn't know how), and said that he was itching to write a new song. Apparently, he and Mystery were in charge of writing their lyrics. 

“In case you forgot, we're kinda already disbanded,” Abby pointed out, sipping the last dregs of his bowl. “No reason for us to keep on singing now.”

“ Unless our lovely guest here has an idea to get back to the surface, right, mon cher chasseur?” Romance winked at her, the gold in his eyes glinting.

“If I did, I would have left the moment I woke up,” Rumi said. She leaned against the chair, folding her arms. “And I won't be bringing demons back with me, either.”

Abby pointed his spoon at her. “Give the moral superiority up. You're one of us now. The sooner you accept that, the less headache it'll be.”

“I'll never go around stealing souls like you.” She glared at him. “The only similarities we have are the patterns.”

“Denial is a river in Egypt,” Baby flatly interjected as he tilted the entire casserole over his bowl, earning a nasty look from her. 

Before another round of debate could spark, Jinu abruptly stood and slammed his hands on the table, his chair scraping against the floorboards. Utensils and bowls clattered. 

“That's exactly why we're all here,” he said. “To plan for a way out.”

He stalked over towards the far wall where Rumi finally noticed  a whiteboard standing. She briefly wondered where it had come from. All sorts of scribbles had been drawn over it, doodles of demons and what she guessed were the Huntrix (if those three girls hinted anything ) floated at the upper right. Below those drawings was a capitalized ‘SUGGESTIONS’ and a bulleted list of ways on what Rumi guessed were their planned methods of defeating them. The suggestions ranged from crashing world tour concerts to invading their managing department. Scribbled on the lower part of the board was a messily written phrase of ‘DEMON BOY BAND???? LOL’, a crooked arrow connecting to a barely readable ‘Baby needs to be media trained first’ due to the aggressive squibbles over it, as if someone had been pissed. Then beside it, oozing in pure malice was a simple ‘FUCK YOU ROMANCE’. 

Jinu grabbed an eraser and wiped everything away. 

“So, let's start by organizing everything we know about our current situation. Leave the theoretical conspiracies out for now; it has to be factual and absolute.” Jinu turned around, chest puffed out, hands on his hips. 

“So, what do we know about ourselves?”

Baby's hand shot up like a student. “You haven't gotten your first kiss yet.”

The boys erupted into a rambunctious fit of laughter. Even Mystery's shoulders shook in silent amusement, before he muttered a small ‘Sorry’ that nobody bothered to acknowledge. Even Rumi wanted to laugh, but held back.

Red-faced, Jinu pointed at him. “Baby, one more word out of you and you'll be stuck on bathroom duty for a week.”

Surprisingly, that worked. Baby zipped his lips shut. But it didn't stop Romance. 

“Oh, don't get so worked up, Jinu. I'm sure that's bound to change with ma chérie here.” Romance hooked an arm around Rumi's shoulders. 

Both Rumi and Jinu sputtered at the same time. 

“ What are you implying?” Rumi vigorously shook her head with crossed hands in front of her face. “That's not—we're not— you're getting the wrong idea here!”

“Exactly,” Jinu supplied, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Now get your hands off her—” Romance took his arm back with a knowing grin— “ And I know you're all inflicted with massive deficient attention span, but can we please focus on the matter at hand for at least twenty minutes?”

Baby sighed dramatically, stretching his arms over the table before his head flopped on them. 

“Twenty minutes? You ask so much of us.”

After much disciplining here and there (it didn't work) Jinu managed to get their meeting back on track. 

“Gwi-Ma hasn't been pitching in our ears since the Idol Awards. Wherever he is right now, he can't reach us,” Jinu said as he wrote ‘GWI-MA MIA’ on the board. 

“Has this ever happened before?” Rumi spoke up. “Gwi-Ma disappearing, I mean.”

Jinu shook his head. “For all the four hundred years I've worked for him, he was always whispering inside our heads every chance he got.”

“Guy has zero concept of privacy,” Abby added. 

“Right,” Baby mumbled. “You could be in the toilet taking the biggest shit of your life and he'd be all ‘You're useless, you piece of shit’ in your ears. Talk about dedication. It gets to a point.”

Mystery had taken it upon himself to clear up the dining table. He was walking around, collecting everyone's plates in his arms.

“Well, what if he's really gone now?” Rumi suggested. “Less problems for me.”

“Ah, yes, for you,” Abby contended. “Because Gwi-Ma returning is bound to have us leaping for joy, clearly.”

Annoyed, Rumi flared. “Why wouldn't you? He's your boss. One word from him and you'd probably be eager to take me out. Wasn't that your initial plan?”

 “We don't need convincing from Gwi-Ma. Jinu's the only one who's against it,” Abby countered, and suddenly the air in the room dropped a few degrees lower. “All things considered, it's because you sealed the Honmoon that we can't get out.”

A surge of anger welled inside Rumi. She stood up and glared at him. The rest of the boys shuffled uncomfortably in the room. 

“So it's my fault?” she fumed. “As if you weren't the ones stealing innocent souls in the first place?”

“Technically, we weren't the ones stealing them,” Abby corrected in that annoying condescending tone Rumi has come to hate. “We guided their souls to Gwi-Ma. If you have a problem with that, chalk it up to him .”

Rumi scoffed and vaguely gestured in the air. “Of course, I'm sorry I wasn't specific enough!”

“You seem to be stuck in the notion that you're the only one who hates him,” Abby continued, eyes never straying from her. “Newsflash: all of us do. And we're just as desperate to leave this place as you are.”

“Abby,” Jinu warned, stepping forward. 

Rumi was seeing all red, the itch to lunge towards this.. this demon prickling her hands as she tried to resist the urge to summon her sword. She ignored Jinu's attempts to deflate the tension. 

“If you hated Gwi-Ma so much, you should have fought back then.”

Abby's face twitched. Something indecipherable flashed in his eyes. “You don't get to wave your moral compass in our faces, hunter . You don't know what it feels like to hear his voice controlling you."

“That's right, I don't know,” Rumi said. “And I don't want to know. I will never understand how someone could be so much of a coward he'd let Gwi-Ma manipulate him!”  

Her accusation dripped in venom, so intent on Abby that she didn't notice Jinu wincing at her words. Abby bared his fangs and finally stood from his seat to face her, the table being the only obstacle between them. 

“ Coward ?” he echoed, voice dangerously low. For a split second, the golden trademark of his demon eyes flickered. “ You don't know me.”

Undeterred, Rumi held his eyes. 

“And I don't want to.”

The silence trickled. Romance and Baby exchanged looks. Mystery stood next to them, fixed on his spot while he still held a stack of dishes.

Jinu sighed and clapped his palm against the whiteboard. 

“Alright. Since everybody's on edge right now, let's put this meeting on hold.”

Without taking her eyes off Abby, Rumi announced, “There's no need for a meeting. I'll find a way out of here myself. I don't need anyone's help.”

“Fine by me,” Abby spat. “We only agreed to let you stay here. Nobody said anything about working together.”

“Fine!” Rumi turned on her heel as she stomped back to the hallway that led to the rooms. 

—

Jinu wanted to call out to her, but something held his tongue back. Rumi's footsteps echoed against the walls of the house, loud and heavy in vehemence. In her wake, it left behind a taut stillness. 

Frowning, Jinu addressed Abby. 

“Way to go, Abby.”

Shrugging, Abby stepped around the table and headed towards the main entrance, hands shoved in his pocket. 

“The deal was to not kill her. You should be thankful I kept my part of the agreement.”

“Don't you want to leave?” Jinu directed the question not just at Abby but also to the rest. “We can't do jackshit if we keep on fighting. We're all in the same boat.”

“Tell that to your girlfriend.” This time, it was Baby's turn to chime in. He was in the middle of inspecting his nails. “She obviously doesn't like us the same way. Not that I really care.”

“Yeah,” Romance snorted. “You don't exactly have the most likeable personality.”

“Listen to yourself. None of us here like each other.”

No, Jinu wanted to argue. Rumi wasn't like that. If she could accept him, she could definitely see past their mistakes too. She just needed time. Time to adjust. Time to get to know them. 

Unfortunately, they didn't have the luxury of time. Jinu felt a bad omen bubbling in his gut. They still had no idea where Gwi-Ma had gone to, but the fact that the demon realm still existed means his power was still here. Jinu could still feel it—something malevolent, hateful , clinging to the atmosphere. Wherever Gwi-Ma was, he was doing a damn good job keeping them apart. 

He watched as Abby left through the front door to who knows where. Baby and Romance had shuffled over towards their rooms, footsteps trudging from the hallway. The sound of running water called Jinu's attention towards the kitchen sink as Mystery buried himself with the dishes. 

Jinu remembered. “Wasn't it Romance's turn to do the dishes?”

Mystery didn't even look over his shoulder. 

“He said his wrists were hurting.”

“... He was obviously lying.”

Rumi had woken up in the middle of the night, and ever since then, sleep had been doing its best to evade her efforts. 

Tossing and turning, she tried experimenting with all sorts of positions; at one point she was even tempted to just move to the floor altogether. When after an hour of jerking around had passed and her mind was still a whirring active mess, Rumi decided a change of scenery was due. 

She kicked off the blanket and swept her legs across the cot, feeling the cold wood hard against the soles of her feet. Her eyes darted around the dimly lit room, only just realizing that there were hardly any personalized belongings Jinu owned, save maybe for the ragged-looking bipa leaning against the far wall beside the moldy study desk. It didn't take long for Rumi to piece together that it was probably the same one Jinu had talked about in his past, four centuries ago. 

Then the fact that she was sleeping in Jinu's room hit her, and a wave of guilt that she had hogged his space all to herself without even discussing it with him came crashing down. After walking out on the Saja Boys at dinner, she had waltzed back inside as if it was a given that she'd be staying here. 

Come to think of it, where is Jinu?

Rumi wondered if he was on the couch in the living room. After much contemplation, she upped and strolled out the room. She followed out the hallway and into the living room, immediately finding out there were no hints of Jinu. 

Her eyes found its way on the front door, and after a beat, her feet slowly led her across the space. She pushed back the door and was greeted by a cool breeze kissing her face. Standing on the front porch, Rumi took in the expanse of nothingness that spread before her.

The air practically screamed of gloom that it reflected bluish-violet. Sharp jagged rocks jutted out of the ground every few meters, puddles of water that looked murky like gasoline littered beneath withered trees with branches that resembled the hands of a shriveled mummy. Not too far ahead, Rumi could just about make out the outline of an arch—an entrance to some sort of populated area, judging by the neon lights that gleamed against the cold fog. 

They were far out of the outskirts of the demon realm, Rumi realized. Just enough for some sense of privacy and quiet, which turned out to be favorable for her, because she was almost certain that if Gwi-Ma does somehow revive, he'd probably do so at the heart of his realm. 

Will he even come back?

Rumi couldn't help but wonder. Celine had parroted time and time again the consequences of turning the Honmoon gold, at this point Rumi could recite them all without giving it much thought: 

The human realm would be untouched by Gwi-Ma forever. Demons would be sealed. Her patterns, gone. 

I can see how well that turned out, Rumi thought to herself sarcastically. She stepped down one tread of the porch staircase and sat down. 

Staring at the neon lights in the distance, Rumi's thoughts trailed towards her friends, on the other side of the Honmoon. How were they faring, without her? They never had the chance to talk things out—although, based on their last battle against Gwi-Ma, Rumi never felt any hostility from them. Would she be conceited to assume that they had forgiven her for her lies?

She hugged herself, eyes dropping. The temperature had dropped a few degrees. It was difficult to tell the time—as far as Rumi remembered, the sky had that same drab since dinner. 

Were they.. worried for her? 

Rumi's lips shivered. Whether it was from the cold or the itch to sob, she wasn't entirely sure. 

“Had I known this was going to happen, I would have looked for another way to seal the Honmoon,” Rumi said out loud, tilting her head up. “Maybe it didn't have to be gold… en..?”

Her words ended in a question. Because her eyes caught the strings webbing the sky of the Underworld, and she was pretty sure that wasn't the color of gold. 

“It's less golden, more iridescent.”

Rumi jumped. Her neck twisted to look over her shoulder as instincts kicked in and she tried summoning her sword. 

“.. Jinu?” 

Clad in his human appearance, Jinu had on a grey sweater and black sweatpants as he leaned against the frame of the doorway, arms crossed. His eyes were transfixed on the sky above, the distant glow bouncing off his face. 

“Can't sleep?” 

Rumi was about to answer when she realized something. She glanced at her own hand. 

Her sword had not materialized. 

She flexed her fingers. Close and open. Still empty. 

It took Rumi a beat to realize that she couldn't summon her weapon, no matter how much she tried. It invoked an emptiness that spread across her skin; she had carried that sword with her for years, like it had already become one with her—an extension of her arm. 

“Rumi?” 

Jinu had walked over and sat beside her. Rumi snapped out of her thoughts. 

“You're still awake,” she said, trying to ignore the sinking pit. To distract herself from yet another harrowing revelation. 

“No, this is actually me sleepwalking.”

She hit him in the arm. Jinu grunted, rubbing the spot. “I see you still pack a punch.”

“And I see you still have the audacity.”

A hollow chuckle reverberated from his chest. “Audacity is my middle name.” 

Rumi snorted, rolling her eyes as she returned her attention forward, back to the misty terrain, to the glow of what she guessed was the capital city ahead. 

“Sorry,” she said. “For hogging your room.”

“Don't be. You were meant to sleep there, anyway.”

Rumi turned to him, brows furrowed. “So where will you be sleeping?”

Jinu lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. His attention was fixed up ahead. “Mystery doesn't mind sharing a room.”

Rumi nodded meaningfully. Of course, she should have expected that. For some reason, Mystery was the only one among them save for Jinu who didn't bear any malicious intent towards her. At least, she never felt any of the sort coming from him. He was just.. there. Rumi would even dare to say he was actually hospitable. 

She remembered something and looked up at the sky. 

“You said the Honmoon didn't turn gold.” 

Jinu nodded. “It didn't. Remember how it tore on the night of the Idol Awards? The tear was so huge it couldn't be repaired. You ended up making a new one from scratch.”

Rumi could still remember every single happening on that night. The packed stadium of Namsan tower, Gwi-Ma's power beckoning the hypnotized crowd, the demons—Zoey and Mira, snapping out of their trance and joining her in the fight. Jinu's act of sacrifice. 

She eyed the strings that glowed faintly against the sky. Various colors bounced throughout the stratosphere, mirroring the hues of a diamond prism. 

“Does that mean.. we can still pass through it?”

Jinu hummed noncommitally. 

“This is the first time I've seen the Honmoon manifest in a different color. We did try passing through, before we found you.”

Rumi perked. “What do you mean ‘found me' ?”

“Exactly as it means. A few hours after we found ourselves back here, we gathered outside and tried to go through the Honmoon the same way we always did.” Jinu paused, as if he was recalling the scene. “Then.. I don't know, the Honmoon just glowed brighter and there you were, lying on the ground, unconscious.”

Rumi tried picturing the scene: the stunned faces of the Saja Boys, the indignation that followed when they realized it was her, Jinu stepping up to defend her name before they could think about finishing her in her sleep. 

“How did you try to pass through?”

“Drew straws. Baby ended up getting a huge bump on the head. Said something similar about hitting a ceiling.”

Rumi laughed silently through her nose. No wonder Baby had been in a bad mood when she first woke up. Jinu glanced at her and joined along with a soft chuckle of his own. 

The silence slowly trickled in for a few minutes, not the awkward kind, but the kind that spurred on a quiet comfort. Relaxing, intimate— like the coziness of your room after a long day, the snug of your bed, the hug of your blanket. A break from the world. And for Rumi, whose entire life revolved around performing under the spotlight for all eyes to see, that quietude was something she highly cherished. 

She was stuck in the one place she never wanted to be in. Her friends couldn't be reached. The Saja Boys still somewhat hated her, maybe, except for Mystery. And Romance, weirdly enough. And she just found out her sword, the one thing she wholly depended on other than her voice, was one of the many things severed from her by the Honmoon. For each loss discovered ever since waking up in the demon realm, her hope sinks just a tad bit. 

The only saving grace she's ever had, ever since winding up in literal hell, was Jinu's presence. 

Her biting words from earlier echoed in her ears. 

“I will never understand how someone could be so much of a coward he'd let Gwi-Ma manipulate him!”  

Rumi realized just how harsh it had sounded. She'd been so fixated on Abby, she never thought about what Jinu had felt, hearing her.

“I didn't mean it,” she said, a quiet whisper amidst the silence. Jinu turned to her. 

“Huh?”

“Earlier.. about Abby, I—...” She sighed. “I didn't mean it. It was the stress and the whole—” she made a vague gesture— “stuck in here kind of situation.”

Jinu didn't answer right away. 

“Well.. you weren't exactly wrong. I am a coward—”

“ No .” Rumi said it so forcefully it caught both her and Jinu off guard. “I mean.. no, you're not a coward. You never were.”

A visible emotion flashed across him. Something close to a wince. Like someone had prickled him with a needle.

“I hurt you.”

“You didn't mean it.”

The both of them held each other's eyes, the silence prolonging with each unsaid thought that passed through them.

Then, Jinu was the first to shatter it, never breaking eye contact. 

“You're really too forgiving for your own good, Rumi.”

She thought about it and shrugged. The slightest twitch of a smile tugged her lips. 

“I think the world needs a little bit of forgiving in it. Isn't that the point of living? Starting over, again and again.” 

Her words seemed to hit home, judging by the way Jinu's expression shifted just a bit, and a hint of vulnerability shone through the cracks. 

“You have a way with words,” he said, almost smiling. “Are you in charge of writing your lyrics?”

Rumi chuckled, shaking her head. “No. That's Zoey's job.”

“Then, choreo?”

“Mira.”

Jinu nodded with a hum, leaning forward to place his cheek on an open palm while he still looked at her. 

“So.. center and looking pretty?”

Instead of being offended, Rumi laughed. “That's center and lead singer to you, mister Saja.”

He shrugged. “Still pretty.”

At that, Rumi flushed. She was unsure of how to respond. So she settled with the most plausible reaction: she punched him in the arm.

“ Ow!” Jinu held his arm, hissing. “What? That was a compliment!” 

“You can't just say that out of the blue!”

“For someone who calls herself everyone's type, you're pretty timid.”

“That's—that's different!” 

Rumi was still in the middle of thinking of some sort of follow-up excuse when Jinu started laughing. Her eyes caught the way the twinkle in his eyes gleamed in the dim night, and the low baritone of his laughter danced with the air. Jinu had once used his voice to lure souls to their downfall— but, Rumi thought, the sound coming from him at that moment was purer than any song he's sung. 

As the night went on, the both of them eventually bid each other good night. Rumi headed back to Jinu's room and leaned against the door after shutting it close, allowing her thoughts to wander. 

Her situation was still as hopeless as ever. But Rumi thought about Jinu, and realized that maybe, things could have been worse.