Chapter Text
In early August, rain fell heavily on the concrete pavement. People took out their umbrellas to protect themselves, while others, in a desperate act, covered themselves with whatever they had at hand, whether it was a newspaper, a sweater, a backpack, or even their own hands.
Meanwhile, Élise had no reason to worry, as she rocked back and forth in her rocking chair under the tin roof, where the raindrops echoed loudly, one of her palms caressing her already enormous belly. Eight months pregnant, her skin was beginning to lose color and her arms were getting thinner and thinner, her brown hair falling over her shoulders like waves of water, dull and lifeless. Her eyes, tired and baggy, struggled to stay focused on the rain falling relentlessly in front of her.
A hand rested on top of hers, and when she turned her head to the side, she met the gaze of a tall, dark-skinned man who knelt beside her.
“Élise,” the man whispered, his voice so soft that it seemed to drag out the words. “Little by little, you are disappearing before my eyes.”
Élise gave him a weak smile.
“Don't worry,” she said, looking down at her pregnant belly, “everything of me will remain in him.”
Namjoon watched her silently for a moment before speaking.
“The Underworld is a cold and dark place,” he whispered as he caressed the woman's pale fingers, her brittle nails and dry skin. "The sun doesn't reach it, and the only light there is comes from the flames that burn souls. The only sound is the wailing of sinners. Everything in it is mine, every part, every scream. And all of that will belong to Jungkook too. He will be a prince of the Underworld.”
“A prince, huh.”
“He will have everything in his favor.”
“But such a dark and cold place,” she murmured, her voice a little shaky, as if it hurt to speak, “doesn't seem like a very suitable place for a child.”
Namjoon tightened his grip on her other hand and moved closer to her, which brought her attention back to him.
“Maybe not for a human child, but that's the thing, Jungkook won't be human. He'll be my son.”
Élise stretched out both hands and took Namjoon's face in hers, caressing his cheekbones tenderly with her weak thumbs.
“You're not cold or dark, Joon” She smiled slightly. “You make me happy. I want the same for Jungkook.”
“Élise.”
“I'm sure you'll understand when the time comes.”
Perhaps there were other ways Namjoon could have understood, but he would never find out. He knew it when Élise's eyes dimmed and her hands lost their strength.
He didn't even have time to look at the child she had given birth to. With Élise's body lying motionless on the bed in the room and the baby crying between the bloody sheets, Namjoon understood. He took the newborn and cradled him in his arms, still attached to his mother.
The devil no longer even had tears to cry for what he already knew, for he had always been able to recognize a soul that was slowly losing its shine, and this was no exception. Over the months, he witnessed how the baby completely drained his mother's life. No matter how much he loved her or how much he wanted her by his side, the sacrifice she made was not something he could reverse.
The baby in his arms cried until he was exhausted, waving his hands as if seeking the warmth of the woman lying there with sickly skin and sunken cheeks, her eyes half-open and gray, her lips cracked and her nails broken.
“I understand, Élise,” Namjoon whispered as he held the baby. “After all, the Underworld is made to keep souls.”
He reached out a hand to his beloved's face and caressed the moles on her nose.
“I will raise Jungkook with the strength of hell,” he muttered, the shadows in the room seemed to move, as if they were leaves on trees pushed by the wind. His eyes, once jet black, glowed crimson as he leaned over the lifeless woman. “But with the warmth of your words.”
Kissing Élise's forehead, he ensured that her soul would have eternal rest, worthy of her actions in life.