Chapter Text
“Jinu, Jinu, Jinu…”
The world was absent but with prominent scarcity, a realm of nothing and yet everything all at once and all of it out of reach, miles below his feet as he hung suspended in the air, his body on fire and simmering with a pain so potent it eroded away at his flesh and pummelled right through to his marrow.
“I was right. You only ever serve yourself.”
That voice…
Jinu knew only two things. One, there was a stark emptiness inside of him, so biting and cold that bile was rising in his throat as a result.
And two…he loathed that voice.
Twisting, convulsing, Jinu tried to shrink away from Gwi Ma’s wicked taunting. Tried to open his eyes, tried to wiggle his fingers, tried to breathe. He could do none of those things. Jinu was bound, once more, and could only endure the king of demons’ quiet rage as the flames continued their rampage on his body.
“It is because of you that your brethren remain stuck here. It is because of you that we all remain oppressed beneath yet another Honmoon. It is because of you, songbird, that the wretched half-breed hunter still lives.”
An awful silence pursued. Jinu waited, and waited, and waited for Gwi Ma to land his wrathful blow, but nothing came.
Still, Jinu’s lungs screamed in protest with each of his bated breaths. Still, his muscles roared in agony as he dangled before the maker of his fate.
In the distance, there was yelling. Sobbing. The demons that had surrounded him for four-hundred years were mourning yet another failed attempt at freedom.
Gwi Ma was still silent. Waiting.
Jinu could feel him watching. Though the king did not have eyes like all other beings, his gaze could rival the blistering heat of the sun.
And then, just when the tension had become so thick Jinu was at risk of choking on it, a horrendous sound boomed through the realm of nightmares.
Gwi Ma…laughing.
Laughing so hard, the world shook. So hard, Jinu could feel it in his throat. He began to sweat, then. Began to feel his heart kickstart once more, pounding against his chest, bruising the skin on the surface with each thunderous punch.
“You await your punishment. And yet you have truly no idea of the horrors that stalk you. Your pet…your Honmoon-weaving obsession…—“
“Do not speak of her in such a way!” The words tore straight from that same emptiness he’d fallen prey too, and they had surprised even him. That he still felt some resemblance of loyalty to…to her…to Rumi…
“You offered a demon’s soul to a hunter. You gave her the only thing left of you that was human,” though his chuckling had ceased, Gwi Ma’s humour was evident. And nauseating.
“In doing so, she became strong enough to overthrow me. In doing so, you betrayed all of your kind this day. And so, your penance…”
The glee…the twisted, giddy excitement…Jinu did not like this, he did not like this at all—
“Why, it is only fitting that her heart ends up pierced by the tips of your very own claws, songbird. ”
“If you think I would—“
“Oh…you will. Because I am going to make her an offer she can’t refuse, and I believe that you won’t be too pleased about her inevitable acceptance—“
“Stop speaking in riddles— “
“ And yet she will indeed accept. The hunter adores you. That much is clear. I wonder…what would she give if presented with another opportunity to free you, like she has wanted all this time.”
“This has nothing to do with her—“
”Tell me, Jinu. If the hunter offers her soul in exchange for your own, what lengths would you go to stop her?”
“She would die before doing such a thing—“
Jinu realised the demon kings aim not a split second after his own outburst.
He was going to trick Rumi into becoming a demon. Drag her down into this hell, in exchange for Jinu’s freedom…and Gwi Ma knew that Jinu would never let that happen…even if it meant—if it meant…
“So you have finally caught on. I suppose you always have been a bit slow.”
“I won’t let you do this.”
“ Ah but Rumi is her own person, is she not? She is a big girl now, she can make her own choices. And with a heart as saccharine as hers…well, why wouldn’t she want the chance to save her beloved Jinu?”
“I will end you—“
“P erhaps you should have thought twice before befriending someone so…malleable.”
Damn him. Damn him. But he was right. Jinu should’ve left Rumi alone. He should have never allowed himself to believe that there could be light in his future…he should’ve never allowed her to believe that he was worth anything.
So malleable…
Gwi Ma’s words ricocheted around Jinu’s skull like a bullet from a rifle, cracking against bone, searing holes through his mind.
Malleable. She’d believe anything . That’s what Gwi Ma was taunting him with. That Rumi could be a puppet with unbreakable strings.
And maybe she could. Maybe she was a little naive, maybe she did think only with her heart, and if that was the case…
Well, he’d just have to break it.
-
Rumi’s thighs were burning.
With every stride, they protested. With every pounding of her feet on the concrete, her body demanded she turned around and admitted defeat, but Rumi was not that way inclined.
She was so close. So close.
He’d only lost his hands so far, she was metres away. Metres. The flames ate away at him, demanding more of his body than she was prepared to see destroyed. But she was there, there, there—
A void loomed before her, a soulless pit of inky tar. Not a whisper of life in existence. At her feet, right on the precipice of everything and nothing, lay a small woven bracelet.
He was gone. She was too late, again.
He was gone—
“Rumi!”
The voice ripped her away from whatever reality she’d been trapped in. Light flooding back into her vision, Rumi sprang upright, the duvet on her bed slid halfway onto the floor, where she noticed all the pillows had scattered across the carpet at some point during the night.
Taking in the scene around them both was Zoey, her best-friend-turned-alarm-clock, levelling her with an unimpressed, almost frightening glare.
“You sleep like the dead. Actually, I thought you were, which is so not cool after everything we have been through, how could you do me like that when you know how much I’d miss you if you were gone, did that one time in the bathhouse not prove how distraught I’d—“
“ Zoey. ” Rumi’s voice was weak. Croaky. From her consistent lack of sleep, no doubt. “Will you please stop rambling?”
“Says you. You were mumbling in your sleep moments before I woke up. All Jinu, Jinu, Jinu, and no, no, no! I was like, ‘oh this girl needs an exorcism.’ Seriously, it was like something from those paranormal movies Mira loves so much. Are you ever going to explain why the demon-who-was-supposedly-good-but-attempted-to-commit-mass-genocide is on your mind all day every day?”
Rumi grunted. Zoey’s eyes narrowed as her arms folded against her chest. Then, with impressive authority coming from someone who still couldn’t get on all the rides at the theme park, she stormed over to Rumi’s bed and flopped down, pulling the duvet back on top of the mattress and helping herself to a portion of it, as she propped herself up against the headboard and stared down at where Rumi still rested, her head almost halfway down the bed—she realised.
Had she really thrashed around so much in the night?
Her nightmare flashed back to the frontline of her memories. Turning onto her side, away from her friend, Rumi buried her face into the mattress and huffed out a big enough breath to fuel a wind turbine.
Something sharp poked her back—Zoey’s nail was Rumi’s guess. When it poked her again, Rumi knew for sure.
“You need to get up,” her friends voice lacked the usual lightheartedness Rumi was so fond of, “you need to get out of this room, you need to do something other than mourn the loss of a guy you thought you knew—“
“I did know him,” it was barely a whisper, but the strength behind it cast the room in severity. “Perhaps I knew him better than anyone. Ever.”
They were the same, after all. Humans trapped within their own demonic bodies.
“Rumi,” Zoey was defeated and Rumi couldn’t blame her, they’d had this conversation a million times and while Mira had long since given up on trying to get through to her, persistence was Zoey’s middle name. “How do you know he wasn’t using you the entire time? He said it himself—“
“He was backed into a corner. He had no choice, and yet he still made one, when it mattered. He saved my life, Zoey.”
God, how it ached to be alive.
“And now he’s…”
“Gone. I get it, Ru. I do.”
No you don’t, Rumi wanted to scream. You don’t get it, Mira doesn’t get it, Bobby doesn’t get it.
Celine doesn’t get it.
Celine.
“Why couldn’t you love me?”
“I do!”
“All of me!”
Rumi hadn’t spoken to her guardian since that night. She couldn’t stomach it—Celine would demand she moved on, she’d insist that Jinu had to have died and would refuse any alternative as to why the man saved Rumi’s life and took on the brunt of the demon king’s wrath, other than it being yet another case of his kind manipulating humans.
And she couldn’t face that conversation, not now, not yet.
Truthfully, it had already been a year. Perhaps her peers were right, perhaps Rumi should have moved on by now, at least enough to function as a human being once more, and show up for her fans if anything.
Yet…such a thing seemed impossible.
It did not feel right for life to go on without Jinu in it, free—like Rumi had always intended him to be.
I’ll make sure the Saja Boys lose tomorrow.
Then we’ll both win.
She should’ve made him promise.
Made him swear an oath that they would reach victory together.
Instead all she had was grief and a blue woven bracelet.
That was all there was left of him—an ache and a memory.
It was what kept her imprisoned in her own mind—Rumi would never have him again.
He was gone.
And some nights…
Some nights, she prayed Gwi Ma would whisper in her ear. Sometimes she even begged for it. For a sign he was alive, for a way to bring him back, she would do anything.
She would do anything—
“ Hey, ” Zoey’s unknowing interruption came softly, with a gentle caress of her hand over Rumi’s upper arm, “where’d you disappear to, just then?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—“
“Your patterns, they started shimmering again. Don’t tell me it was nothing—what is going on inside that head of yours, Rumi?”
Nothing. Everything.
“I’m just tired.”
“And I’m Gwi Ma,” she deadpanned, “don’t pull that crap on me. Mira might’ve given up on you, but I’m not so easily fooled.”
“I have five pouches of expired grape-juice-turned-voice-tonic to prove otherwise—“
Thump. Rumi scowled and flipped onto her back, rubbing the spot on her arm that Zoey had just punched, glaring up at the culprit with halfhearted vitriol.
“Stop deflecting. I will not rise to it.”
“You can’t rise to anything without a ladder—“
“ I’m not that short!”
Rumi was about to throw another taunt out to her friend, anything to distract her from talking about her feelings, when the door to her bedroom burst open for the second time that morning.
Mira stood at the threshold, panting. And her eyes…Mira wasn’t exactly a puppy dog, but the severity in her expression…
“What’s going on?” Rumi was already out of bed, standing, her blade materialising in her hand.
Glancing back and forth between Zoey and Rumi, Mira sucked in a breath and shut her eyes tightly for a moment that seemed to last an eternity, before she opened them whilst a weighty, apprehensive sigh rushed from her lungs.
“The Honmoon is insecure. A demon slipped out—“
“What?!” Both Rumi and Zoey exclaimed in unison, throwing each other wide-eyed looks of disbelief before they focused on the third member of their trio once more.
“That’s not even the worst part,” Mira’s lips thinned, pressing into a flat line.
Tension gathered in the air, fizzing and crackling with each breath Mira took before she said her next words. But this time…she scrutinised Rumi in a way she hadn’t done in months, since before the new Honmoon, since…since she was sneaking around. With Jinu—
“There’s a body.”
Zoey choked on air whilst Rumi…
Rumi could not take her eyes off of Mira. There was something in the way her friend was watching her, eyes narrowed, stance defensive. Guarded.
Wary.
“A demon killed? ”
Demons take souls, they erase humans from the earth, all the victims of their feasting go missing. For there to be a body…
A shiver wracked through her.
This monster did not kill for the soul purpose of pleasing its king…
It killed for the fun of it. The sport.
“Do we know who did it? Where’s the demon now, Mira?”
But Mira did not answer Zoey. She only kept her eyes on Rumi, and something poisonous and violent swirled in the pit of her stomach as her friend pinned her with the intense attention.
“Congratulations, Rumi.” She’d never heard Mira so cold before—
“You got your wish.”
No.
No.
It wasn’t possible.
He wouldn’t—
“ Mira! ” Zoey was desperate now. Pleading for answers. But Rumi didn’t want them. She didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to hear any of it. She turned for her balcony, running away.
Running away. Always running. Always, always, always—
“She wanted him back, Zoey. And now she’s got him.”
“You don’t mean—“
“Oh yeah,” Mira chuckled, but there was no humour. Only spite. Hateful spite, “And it seems he sent us a present.”
Rumi could feel the vitriol.
Zoey was silent. Still.
“You wanna know how we know it was him?”
She didn’t. Because it wasn’t. It was a lie, it was all lies. There was no way, no way—
“Words. Written in the victim’s blood.”
Her stomach lurched.
“Oh god,” Zoey cried.
“Dream of someone else, Hunter,” Mira whispered, a snake-like hiss, “Ink made of blood to write a personal warning for those who have been so desperately pining for him. Tell me. Tell me now that he still deserves your grief. Tell me what it’ll take for you to wake up , Rumi!”
The shout boomed in the silence, demanding an answer, demanding justice, demanding something. At the very least, Mira wanted her to say something.
But there was nothing she could say.
No words for how her soul had just cleaved in two.
The contents of her stomach spewing onto her carpet, Rumi sank to her knees, and wept.