Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

Chapter Text

There was still blood on his clothes when he stood in front of the pharmacy. The baby in his arms was squirming and crying, his little hands and feet flailing in search of warmth. The devil, who was holding him, remembered the things he had discussed with Élise during her pregnancy.

“I have to get milk.”

Before she died, Élise had told him about how she had taken care of her little cousins, nieces and nephews for a long time. It was feeding them and changing diapers, Namjoon was sure of that. So, with the baby crying in his arms, he looked at the glass door, and when it opened by itself, he shuffled inside.

The woman at the counter was startled to see the tall man in a burnt robe, with red eyes and messy hair. It probably wouldn't have been a big deal, except that he was covered in blood and carrying a child in his arms.

Namjoon didn't even say hello. Instead, he went to the refrigerator to look for a carton of milk. He planned to buy a large one, the largest they had, but he only found small cartons that claimed to be vanilla or chocolate flavored. He clicked his tongue.

“Uh, excuse me.”

The woman's voice interrupted him.

“Do you need assistance? I can call the doctor...”

Namjoon looked her up and down.

“Assistance for what?”

“For your baby, sir.”

“My baby is fine, he's just hungry.”

The woman was silent for a moment.

“I'm going to call the doctor,” she said, and disappeared through the white door next to her.

Namjoon knew that type of person; he had judged many of them at the gates of the Underworld. People dedicated to caring for human life—he knew about them, just as he had also known some who had no respect for that rule and had abused their authority.

Left alone in the pharmacy, he crossed to the other side of the counter to search the aisles for something useful, but all he found were boxes of pills, band-aids, rubbing alcohol, cotton, masks—nothing that could help him. Not until he reached the baby bottles.

He recognized them immediately. Élise talked about them , he thought. He took about ten and put them inside his robe, not sure how many he would need. Probably a lot. Then he found the pacifiers, narrowed his eyes, and took one to look at it closely. 

He put twenty inside his robe.

He searched the rest of the aisles for a carton of milk, but couldn't find any. Then, as he passed the baby bottles again, he came across cans with a huge label that read “Formula milk, food for your baby.” It was just what he needed. He took one and in the blink of an eye the lid had disappeared. He frowned when he saw the inside.

“Powder?” 

He took all the cans there were. Things disappeared into his robe without any problem.

Hearing voices behind the white door, he turned around, jumped over the counter, and left the pharmacy, sinking into the darkness of the streets.

Chapter Text

The room was dark and cold, with a low ceiling and cobwebs in the corners. Although it was true that his castle looked somewhat neglected and even gloomy, he preferred a more Gothic style. 

That room was anything but Gothic. 

The walls were cracked, and there were only two small windows on the wall facing the street, which had no glass and were covered with black plastic bags. There was no furniture, and it wasn't painted. For the devil, the gray concrete made it look even more depressing. The floor, made of smooth stone, was covered with dust and broken wood. 

He could smell the dampness and hear the wind seeping under the door, which had no knob and didn't close properly. Standing in the middle of the room with Jungkook in his arms, he looked around silently for a moment.

“Well, it looks like we've ended up in a low-budget torture basement,” he whispered and grimaced. All that's missing are the screams and the hellhounds.

He raised his arm to uncover his body from the robe, and as he did so, baby bottles, baby formula, pacifiers, blankets stolen from a rental store, and packages of diapers he had taken from the supermarket fell to the floor.

“Humans are extremely generous for leaving everything useful in plain sight. Not to mention that they are overflowing with stupidity.” He waved his hand and the objects lined up on the floor, then took a blanket and wrapped his son in it to lay him down on the floor.  

Finding that room had not been difficult; he just had to look for a place that did not emit any human aura and came across an abandoned building with a roof sturdy enough to shelter his baby. He had milk and diapers; until the child grew up, it should be enough.

However, he still had a mission: to figure out how to feed a baby with powdered milk. 

When he opened the can to begin his experiment, something tickled his ear.

“Sir, your presence is requested in Courtroom No. 89000.”

“I am enjoying a period of rest,” he said, sniffing the milk.

There was silence.

“Excuse me?”

“I have no intention of returning to the Underworld for another twelve months. Leave Walter in charge in my absence.” With the measuring spoon, he took the powdered milk and brought it close to Jungkook's face, who was sucking on his little fist. In an attempt to feed him, he put the spoon to his mouth, but the baby paid no attention.

“What are you talking about?! The mortality rate has increased and we're overwhelmed!”

“Hmm, it doesn't seem to be working...” He took the spoon away and put it back in the can. “How else could it be?” 

“The way you return to the Underworld!”

“Ah, of course, the bottle.”

“Excuse me?”

“I'm done with you, Azaziel. Get off my line.”

“Sir, why would you do this?!”

“Say one more word and I'll pulverize you.” His voice boomed as he spoke. “I already gave you my answer: I'll be back in twelve months, and Walter is in charge. Try to persuade me, and I'll trap your soul in the Corrupted Lakes.”

“...”

“Get lost.”

As the itch in his ear subsided, Jungkook began to cry again. Namjoon picked him up, wrapped the blanket around his little body, and held him close to his chest. 

“Forgive me, my son, humans are so useless that they can't even prepare proper milk for you. How is a baby as tiny as you supposed to drink it?” 

Jungkook pouted and clenched his fists.

“Maybe I should offer you succubus milk instead.”

Jungkook burst into tears again.

“Nonsense, don't you think? That milk tastes like urine. We'd better find something more suitable for a prince like you.” He leaned down to kiss his son's nose. As he pulled away and looked at the baby's face, tiny red sparks danced in the pupils of his half-open eyes. “Your lineage is unmatched. My blood runs through your destiny.”

As Namjoon rocked him back and forth, a cold breeze ran down his neck and the smell of sulfur increased in the room. He covered his baby's head with one hand and pulled him closer to hide his face as his eyes glowed crimson. The shadows in the room moved like seaweed in water and expanded in size. Then, the plastic on the window broke and a third presence interrupted the room. 

Smiling, the unknown man revealed his enormous yellow fangs. The edges of his eyes were black, with a thin line resembling eyeliner, and his pupils were a deep purple. He had pointed ears and white hair, from which two black horns protruded. When he spread his legs, a long, thin tail ending in a point twisted behind him.

“I heard the devil came to visit,” exclaimed the demon.

Chapter Text

The demon waved its tail hypnotically, and when it raised its hands to extend its claws, its expression fell as it saw what the devil was holding in its arms.

“What the fuck? A kid?” An invisible force pushed the demon and slammed him against the wall. The impact caused even more cracks in the concrete, and it fell to the floor, his body shaking.

“Watch your language,” warned the devil.

“Fuck,” said the demon through clenched teeth. He lifted his body with the help of his forearms. “This room smells like shit, ugh.”

“It's you who has permeated the place with your demonic scent,” Namjoon said, standing up with the baby still in his arms. 

“Forgive me, Mr. Devil,” he said, leaning back and managing to kneel on his knees. “But you and that kid stink. Maybe you should take a bath.”

“Min Yoongi.” Namjoon's eyes glowed red and his robe seemed to split into several pieces, which moved around him like tentacles. "You have the audacity to disappear from the Underworld for two years, cause a stir in the Department of Forgotten Souls, and now come to me to assure me that my son smells bad?”

“He's your son?!” He received another blow from the invisible force, this time to his stomach. He writhed as he tried to catch his breath. “I can't believe it...”

“Go back to the Underworld and fix your mistakes.”

“So the devil really did fuck a human.” Seconds later, Yoongi was hanging upside down in the air. The useless cables that had been tossed aside like trash in the room now surrounded his torso and squeezed him until it was difficult to breathe. On the other hand, the invisible force was no longer pushing him against the wall, but holding him in the air.

Namjoon still held the baby in his arms and looked with disdain at the demon writhing in the air, in a futile attempt to break free. 

“How powerful should your curse be?” whispered the devil, who at some point began to circle the room. With each step, a black stain remained under the sole of his shoe, which took a few seconds to disappear. “A thousand years of confinement? A rotten soul? A body that is dying but unable to succumb?” 

“Hey,” he said through clenched teeth. “The... The truth is... I had already heard about you... That you had come...”

Namjoon glanced at him sideways and narrowed his eyes.

“I promise... I wasn't going to eat the child...”

“Oh, you bastard demon.” His figure seemed to darken and his eyes glowed crimson. “Do you think a insignificant evil like you would even have a chance to hurt my son? You should bite your tongue.”

“I didn't even know... That you had a son!” He tried to catch his breath. "It was... It was surprising... I mean, how did you give him milk... ?

As he said that, a piercing silence filled the room.

“I haven't given him any.” His dark figure had returned to normal, as had the color of his eyes. “I'm still figuring it out.”

“With all due respect,” he inhaled as best he could, “poor child.”

At that moment, the cables around Yoongi's body lost their strength and the demon fell to the ground. His head, which had hit the ground in an unfavorable position, throbbed with pain. He lay there, exhausted.

“How much do you know about babies?” asked the devil, his eyes narrowed. “And I'm not talking about babies of your kind, or demons or incubi, or hounds, but human babies.” 

Yoongi blinked several times and made an effort to straighten his body.

“Human babies?”

“That's right, human babies.”

“How much could I possibly know? I'm a demon!” He spread his arms wide to indicate the obvious.

“All the more reason why I know you are well acquainted with human desires,” he narrowed his eyes. “Of course you must know something about babies.”

Yoongi pointed to the window, and at that moment, thunder rumbled in the sky. After a few seconds, raindrops fell until a storm formed.

“That's all I do, cause suffering to humans with storms, because that's what I am: a storm demon!” He pushed himself up to stand, trembling slightly. He grimaced at the still-present pain. “I don't know anything about kids...”

“You owe me,” Namjoon's voice was cold. “You belong to a young generation, increasingly untamed. You evaded the Underworld to shirk your duties, and not only that, but you caused riots in your Department.”

“Well, it's just that the Forgotten Souls are a little...” He twisted his lips.

“Most likely, you've been causing trouble for no apparent reason for the past two years. On top of that, you have the audacity to come here and yell at me and insult my son.”

“With all due respect, asking someone to take a shower is not an insult, you see.”

Namjoon's eyes flashed crimson. He raised his chin, and everything behind him seemed to darken. The whistling of the wind stopped, and the shadows in the room seemed to be voids where you could fall and disappear. 

Yoongi swallowed hard.

“What have you been doing these past two years, Min Yoongi?”

“I...” As he stared into the devil's eyes, he felt like he could get lost in them, but not in a good way. They were so red and vivid, he could see the flames of hell in them: eternal and capable of burning your entire soul with a single touch. “I caused storms and... I lived with humans.”

As he finished those words, he felt a burning sensation around his neck and an orange light illuminated in a circle around his head. Then, a ring of the same color surrounded his throat and tightened until it looked like a dog collar. He brought both hands to the area to try to remove it, but it was hard and wouldn't budge, no matter how much force he used.

Oh, no , Yoongi thought.

“No, no, no!” He clenched his teeth and screamed to try to free himself from the object. “My precious freedom!”

“Congratulations,” a smile spread across the devil's face, revealing his fangs. “From now on, you will be my Immediate Demon. No more unnecessary storms; you will be the one to assist me with human deals for the benefit of my son.”

Yoongi threw himself to the ground, writhing, then began to whimper.

“You'd better be useful,” the devil continued, “or I'll throw your demonic essence into the void.”

That night, Yoongi had never regretted challenging someone so much. Perhaps choosing the devil as his target hadn't been such a good idea.

Chapter Text

Min Yoongi had spent the last two years of his demonic life without any kind of routine. When he spread his wings in the wind, he could cross the entire city in the blink of an eye and strike as many lightning bolts as he wanted.

He lived the best part of being a free demon: harming humans to feed on their fear and causing mischief here and there. He destroyed businesses, flooded avenues, caused car accidents, cut off electricity to entire areas, scratched doors and windows, and, of course, ate all the sausages at the same local market hundreds of times.

No human was a match for him, and even if there was one big enough to take him down, showing his true demonic form should be enough to scare him away. That's why, even if he sometimes didn't feel like eating his sausages in empty attics and therefore preferred to go to the same kind human family, the truth was that he felt invincible.

The demon world was a joke to him. Letting a young demon out and not locating him for two years while he left traces of his whereabouts with mischief? Min Yoongi told himself that they were just as stupid as the old man at the local market.

So when the city started to stink of devilry, he didn't think twice about looking for him and having some fun with him. 

Apparently, two years of continuous success had been enough to cloud his head and reasoning. 

It became clear to him within seconds of stepping inside that abandoned room. If he was honest, and now that he could think about it with a cool head, it was pretty stupid. Looking back, throwing himself at the devil the way he did was, without much else, begging for punishment. 

The orange collar around his neck was proof of that.

“I am going to sow the seed of my son's life on the earthly plane. You are going to atone for your punishment with me. You must serve me until Jungkook comes of age and can fend for himself.” He lowered his gaze to the baby. “He can't communicate yet, but when he does, I want you to be there to dispel his doubts. If he finds himself in trouble, you will be there to guide him and lead him to a resolution. You will protect his life and ensure his integrity.”

Yoongi weakened his knees until he knelt down.

“Of course, I will protect him with all the power of hell,” the devil continued, “but unfortunately, I am at a disadvantage due to my ignorance of the earthly plane. As I learn, you will be the one to smooth the way. If you disobey this request, your demonic soul will vanish and be condemned to a cycle of endless suffering.”

The collar around his body burned until he screamed and pressed his palms against the floor to support himself. When he stopped, his chest rose and fell as his heavy breathing regulated.

“I need to feed my son,” he said, pointing his chin at the cans of milk on the floor. “Find out how to prepare the milk.”

If he could go back in time, he would probably think twice before entering that ghostly room.

(...)

The general hospital in Lethonya was known for its enormous size.

It was built thanks to a donation from the Meramar Foundation, which provided the funds necessary to erect the impressive structure. The donation not only enabled the construction of the building, but also the acquisition of state-of-the-art medical technology and the hiring of skilled healthcare professionals.

It was one of the events that marked the beginning of Lethonya as one of the largest cities in the country. Or so Yoongi had read in an article at the newsstand.

After Namjoon told him to prepare the milk, Yoongi mustered up enough courage to explain that the child probably needed more than milk and that, unfortunately for both of them, no one in that abandoned room had the necessary knowledge to care for him.

So, after a conversation in which Yoongi explained that seeing a doctor would be the smartest decision and that the city had many of them, they arrived at the hospital in the middle of the night, with the baby wrapped in makeshift blankets and the devil's clothes covered in blood. There wasn't much he could do but run for medical assistance; after all, the child's death would mean his own downfall. 

They walked through the gardens in front of the hospital and arrived at the entrance. The glass door opened automatically, and a large lobby stretched out before them. It was white and bright, with the reception desk on the right and a huge waiting room with armchairs, chairs, and tables on the left, where several people were sitting.

“It smells like human misery,” said the devil.

They walked up to the counter and were greeted by a dark-haired woman with red hair.

“Hey, hello,” Yoongi greeted her. “This kid was born a few hours ago. Do you think you could feed him and check him over? I don't want him to die.”

The woman blinked several times and immediately picked up the phone next to her.

“Newborn baby. I need you to send a team to attend to the baby as soon as possible.” She hung up the phone and stood up. “Please wait here for a moment, the medical staff will be here soon. Are you injured?”

“Not at all, I've kept him with me at all times,” said the devil.

“I mean you.”

Namjoon frowned.

“What a senseless question. Do I look like someone who can be deceived or harmed?”

“You're covered in blood, sir.”

“It's not my blood.”

At the end of the hallway, the double doors swung open abruptly, revealing a group of nurses carrying a hospital crib.

“May I have the baby, sir?” said the doctor who approached him.

“For what purpose?”

The woman blinked several times when she heard him.

“We need to check his vital signs.”

“You're going to check him and feed him,” Yoongi interjected, “right?”

“First, we'll do a complete evaluation to make sure the baby is in good health. Then, we'll feed him according to his needs,” the woman assured him. “Sir, if you'll allow me.”

Namjoon felt a tightness in his chest, and his protective instinct screamed at him to run away, that he couldn't let anyone touch the prince of the Underworld. However, when he looked into the woman's eyes and perceived her soul, all he saw were good intentions and a benevolent interest in Jungkook.

He gave his baby one last squeeze before unwrapping the blankets. He revealed a dirty, pale purple child with swollen eyes and wrinkled skin, his fists by his face and a pout on his lips. When the cold hospital air touched his skin, Jungkook cried weakly.

“Allow me.” When the devil handed her the baby, the doctor took him in her hands and shook her head when he tried to give her the dirty blankets. She placed Jungkook in the crib and covered him with cleaner blankets that a nurse handed her. “How long ago was he born?”

“Three hours,” the devil replied immediately. She watched attentively as the nurse began to check the baby's vital signs, his breathing, the color of his skin, and whether there were any visible external injuries.

“Mention that he didn't receive medical attention.” She pressed her lips together and whispered something to the other nurses, who immediately set to work to take the crib away. She turned to the devil. “Your baby is showing signs of difficulty breathing, and his skin color indicates that he is not getting enough oxygen. In addition, his pulse is weak. We are going to take him to the neonatal intensive care unit to stabilize him, monitor his vital signs, and provide him with the care he needs. I assure you that we will do everything we can for him. Please remain calm and trust that he is in good hands.”

Namjoon's eyes widened as he heard this and watched as they took the crib with his son in it away. He wanted to run after them, but he knew he had to let them treat him. The child's soul was weak and confused; he wasn't sure if he was dying or if it was some unusual difference due to his nature.

“Is my son dying?” The words slipped out of his mouth as he looked at the woman and caught her large, round, bright eyes, which analyzed him carefully.

“Your baby is in a delicate condition, but we are acting quickly to provide the necessary care.” She turned to the receptionist and received a clipboard with a pen attached to it. “Where was the baby born?”

Namjoon was silent for a moment.

“On this plane, like the rest of human babies.”

Yoongi choked on his own saliva when he heard this, and the doctor glanced at them sideways while keeping her focus on the pen on the paper. 

“She doesn't mean the plane, she mean the place on the plane,” Yoongi whispered to the devil.

“Lethonya,” Namjoon said immediately.

"But what place in Lethonya, for Hell's sake! 

“In a room.”

The doctor pressed her lips together and returned her attention to the clipboard.

“What kind of room? What were the conditions?” she said.

“They were good,” he shrugged. “It was a suitable place for childbirth.”

“And how did it go?” she asked as she wrote. “Were there any complications? Did you have help from a midwife?”

“Not at all,” he crossed his arms. “Just his mother and me.”

“Did you help the mother?” She glanced at him sideways. “In that case, if you're not injured, is that the mother's blood?”

“That's right.”

“And where is she? Is she okay?”

Namjoon suppressed the urge to destroy that human's soul for her audacity.

“She's fine,” he lied, his voice calm as he spoke. “She's just tired.”

“Was he fed at birth? By his mother or formula?”

“No.”

The doctor continued writing.

“Did the baby cry immediately after birth? Was he conscious and active?”

“It was immediate,” he muttered. “He cried as soon as he came out of his mother's womb.”

“Very well, sir.” After writing for a few more seconds, she put away her pen and handed the clipboard to the receptionist. “I'm going to meet with the rest of my team to examine your son. Please stay nearby; we'll keep you informed of any developments or complications. In the meantime, I'd appreciate it if you could fill out the form that my colleague Ana will give you. Thank you very much."

“Form?” he whispered with a frown as watched the doctor turn and disappear down the same hallway his son had disappeared down a few minutes earlier. He turned his attention to the receptionist, who handed him a sheet of paper and a pen. “What's the point of asking so many questions?”

Ana smiled at him until wrinkles formed at the corners of her eyes.

“The form is necessary to keep a complete record and ensure that the baby receives the proper care. It's just part of the process to make sure everything is in order.”

“And what should I do?”

“Please fill in the blanks.”

Namjoon spent perhaps too long looking at the sheet.

“If you like, you can take a seat on one of the sofas in the waiting room,” Ana assured him. “When you're done, you can come and hand it in. No problem.”

Before Namjoon could say anything else, Yoongi stepped forward and nodded.

“Thank you very much, we'll do that.” The demon glanced quickly at the devil and subtly seemed to beg him to follow him.

They both went to one of the sofas and sat down in front of an unoccupied coffee table. Namjoon still had the paper in his hand and was reading it silently.

“I'm really not very happy that you've made me your Immediate Demon, and honestly, I thought it was stupid to take away someone's freedom so easily,” Yoongi began. “I mean, I was just a little rude. Did you really need to punish me so quickly? And with such a personal punishment, like taking care of your son.”

Namjoon glanced at him sideways, his eerily calm gaze making the other want to run away, but even if he tried, the ring around his neck would prevent him from getting too far.

“But after seeing your interaction with the woman at the reception desk, I realize you're really serious about this guiding thing, because I can see you don't know shit.”

“Why would I lie?” He placed the sheet on the table. "My knowledge of humanity is based on their ways of dying, of cultivating evil and benevolence, not on coming to a hospital to have your child treated.”

“So, you're stupid.”

“Min Yoongi.” A little louder and the hospital would have shaken, but it seemed like the devil was holding back his power so as not to cause a disaster.

Yoongi screamed and covered his head to avoid any blows or attacks, but nothing came. He slowly opened his eyes and saw the devil click his tongue as he leaned back against the sofa.

“There's nothing wrong with being stupid,” whispered the demon, swallowing hard as he relaxed his defensive stance. “I was stupid myself, coming here to challenge you.”

Namjoon didn't answer.

“Well, you should answer that thing,” he said, pointing his chin at the form on the table. “She said it was part of the protocol.”

“I'm not interested in any kind of human protocol,” he said, closing his eyes and crossing his arms. “I don't have the information necessary to fill in the blanks.”

Yoongi leaned forward and took the sheet of paper to read its contents. The form requested various information about both Namjoon and the baby, including simple things such as full name, place and date of birth, gender, as well as other things such as address, contact information, and medical history. In addition to the mother's information.

“You don't even have a home,” said the demon.

“I don't need a home to nurture my son's soul. Once Jungkook recovers, I'll take him with me and we'll go back to our room.”

Yoongi looked at him silently for a moment and put the sheet back on the table.

“Can I ask you a quick question?”

“What?” He glanced at him sideways.

The demon shifted uncomfortably and scratched behind his ear.

“Like, are you really planning to take care of the kid in that place?”

“Pardon?”

“Well!” He put his fist to his lips and cleared his throat. “It's a fantastic place, it has cobwebs, broken walls, and I'm sure even rat pee, it's perfect... for a Halloween party. Or maybe not even for that.” 

Namjoon narrowed his eyes.

“Personally I love it,” He forced a smile at the devil. “But with your son right now, I realized that he might be a little too much like a human child. Don't you think that's a problem?”

“And why would it be? With blankets and a roof, any child can grow up.”

“Yeah, well,” he grimaced. “You already tried that, and it wasn't very successful. In three hours, he was already dying.”

“My son isn't dead, Min Yoongi.” The flames in his eyes served as a threat. “He's the prince of the Underworld; a constantly rising power dwells within him, and it will overwhelm him as he grows.”

“He's not dead because I told you to bring him to the hospital. The milk I prepared definitely wouldn't have been enough to keep a kid alive!” He snorted. “We are two beings from the Underworld who are thinking of raising the soul of a being practically identical to a human. Do you see a future in that? Because I don't.”

“No other being would be able to care for the prince of the Underworld better than me: his father. For I am the only one who can fully understand him.”

“I wouldn't be so sure. Or do you understand what he wants when he cries in your arms? Do you know that you have to teach him to speak? He won't learn on his own!”

“Do something about it!” he growled.

“Well I'm not a teacher either!” He raised his arms in exasperation. “Yes, I spent two years fooling around in the human world and I may know its rules better than you, but that doesn't mean I know how to take care of a baby.”

“So what are you suggesting? That I find another Immediate Demon?” He clenched his fist and Yoongi's neck burned, who stifled a cry. Namjoon's red eyes glowed brightly. "I remind you, Min Yoongi, that this is punishment for your incompetence and disrespect towards the Underworld. You won't get rid of this collar, no matter how much you beg or kick, do you understand?”

“I understand!” The burning stopped and he caught his breath. “Okay, I get it, you're the worst of the worst, you're not going to let me go free.”

The devil leaned back on the sofa again and clicked his tongue.

“But the boy is going to die on us.”

“Min Yoongi.” Again, his warning voice. 

“I mean it in a good way! If there is a good way.” He brought his fingers to the collar and rubbed it. “Maybe we should get help.”

Namjoon narrowed his eyes.

“Help? Doctors? We're already here.”

“Not just doctors,” he assured him. “Human help. Not just medicine. Find a guide for the guide.”

“And what? Do you know anyone willing to help raise the Prince of the Underworld?”

There was a brief silence.

“Actually, yeah, I know someone.”

Chapter Text

When the sun rose, Yoongi had suggested leaving the hospital immediately.

“The baby is healthy,” the doctor had told them. “And stable. Let me tell you, in all my years of experience, I've never seen such a rapid recovery.”

Of course she hadn't. A baby as unique as Jungkook had never set foot on Earth before, but there was no way they could understand that. So, after a basic explanation of baby care, falsifying information on a form, and an excuse for the lack of credentials, Namjoon and Yoongi left the hospital with the baby in their arms, despite the doctor and receptionist's protests and complaints.

At six in the morning, ten meters from the supermarket and sitting on a bench with pigeon poop on the backrest, Yoongi had to explain one of the most important aspects of the human world.

“It's money,” said the demon as he held the green paper in front of Namjoon's face. “It's what humans use to buy things. It looks harmless, but it's not. Any conscious creature in this place would do anything to have hundreds of these.”

“For a green piece of paper?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow.

“That's right.”

He felt silly, Yoongi knew. He hadn't understood it very well either when he first started mixing with humans. Money can't be explained, it has to be used and experienced. 

“You'll learn more later.”

It seemed that social norms didn't go very well with Namjoon. When they entered the supermarket, while Yoongi went to get a cart, the devil had gone straight to the pharmacy to try to steal again.

“Stop it,” Yoongi smiled sheepishly at the receptionist, who was looking at them with narrowed eyes. They walked away from there and back to the supermarket entrance. “You can't do that, you need money!”

“I don't understand how a piece of insignificant green paper could have a value even close to that of human medicine or food.”

“Well, it does,” he took him by the shoulders. “Believe me, it does.”

Namjoon frowned. 

It would take time, Yoongi knew. So he decided to relax, scratch the collar around his neck a little, and take one of the shopping carts with a baby seat attached. They placed Jungkook in it, who stirred among the blankets and clothes the hospital had provided. 

They walked through the aisles to choose everything they needed. Along the way, Yoongi repeated the same lecture he had given in the park. For the second time that morning, he explained how one day humans decided to use paper to give value to things and that this value had to be paid for with that same paper. 

“So there are places to buy things,” he said as they walked through the hygiene products aisle. “And they're called markets. This is a supermarket. Here you buy things. Everything you put in this cart, we'll have to take it and pay for it over there near the exit, at the cash register.”

“Wow,” he walked in silence for a few seconds. “So, if I get a considerable amount of money, I'll be able to buy everything Jungkook needs and wants?”

“Well, yes.”

There was a longer silence this time.

“Interesting.” 

They said nothing more until they reached the baby section. Once there, they recalled everything the doctor had suggested. Namjoon picked up several pairs of pajamas, hats, and gloves, while Yoongi grabbed diapers, powder, wipes, and other items.

“You should take off that cape,” the demon suggested when they reached the checkout line.

“It's not a cape,” he grumbled.

“Whatever!” He tightened his grip on the cart. “You're drawing a lot of attention with that thing on. It's torn and has blood on it... You should have gotten rid of it when we were at the hospital.”

Namjoon sighed and brought two fingers to the bridge of his nose, as if he had heard the most stupid thing ever said. From his expression, Yoongi thought that maybe that was the case, but when he saw the suspicious looks from the people in front of and behind them in line, he realized that the devil was wrong.

“My infernal robe,” Namjoon said, looking at him again, “is an endless trunk. Everything I need is protected by its fabric.”

“I'm so sorry, Mr. Devil.” Sarcasm rang in his voice, and for a moment his stomach tightened when he saw the other man's narrowed eyes. He clicked his tongue and lowered his face before sighing heavily. “Look, we're here shopping. Don't you notice the looks from the huma-... From the rest of the people?”

“I'm not interested.”

“You should be,” he whispered, moving closer to him. “Because your son is going to grow up among all these people, and he'll probably care. And if your son cares, you should care too.” 

Namjoon's eyes flashed red, and he opened his mouth again to reply, but his expression faltered, and he said nothing. He tightened his expression and looked away, understanding coming to his features, but the tension did not disappear. Instead, he looked at Jungkook in the cart and remained silent. 

“That'll be $250,” said the cashier.

Yoongi rummaged in his pocket and pulled out several crumpled bills. He took perhaps too long to arrange them and check that they weren't torn. Finally, he handed them over, and the woman took them.

“Your change.”

She gave him 2 dollars.

“Fine,” Yoongi sighed as he and Namjoon began to pack the items into plastic bags. “You owe me $250.”

The devil raised an eyebrow. He looked at the cash register behind him, where the cashier was serving the next customer. He clenched his hand, and in the blink of an eye, a stack of crumpled bills appeared in his palm. They were identical to the ones he had given before. Then he handed them to Yoongi.

“Here you go.”

The demon blinked several times and took the bills. Looking at them more closely, he realized they were the same ones.

“How clever,” said Yoongi.

“He probably has hundreds of those. He won't notice they're missing.”

“No, he will,” he said, putting the bills in his pocket and taking the bags to put them in the cart. “I'm sure he will.”

Namjoon didn't answer, but he didn't seem to care either. Instead, he took control of the shopping cart to stand in front of his son and pushed him toward the supermarket exit. Jungkook had fallen asleep again, his fists by his face and his chest rising and falling as he breathed.

Once outside, they were greeted by the orange-painted sky and the sound of crickets. The cool air hit their faces, a small taste of the approaching fall. While Yoongi took the bags out of the cart, Namjoon took off his robe, revealing the long-sleeved clothes he was wearing, the same black color as the rest of his clothes. He held the robe out in front of him with two fingers and shook it once. 

“Satisfied?”

The bloodstains and holes had disappeared. It looked bright and clean, as if the marks had never been there.

Yoongi didn't even comment on it. Instead, he watched as Namjoon put it back on and took Jungkook out of the baby carrier to cradle him in his arms. He rocked him while resting his cheek on the baby's head, as if he wanted to feel his warmth. After a moment, he extended his arm to reveal the inside of his robe.

“Put everything in here.”

And Yoongi did. 

They left the stroller in its place and the demon took the lead to their next destination. They left the parking lot and began walking through the streets of Lethonya, where little by little more people could be seen, most of them on their way to work while some seemed to have returned from partying.

They went down some underground stairs and arrived at the subway. After some problems buying the ticket and getting the same money back with Namjoon's tricks, they stood waiting for the train. While the devil rocked Jungkook, Yoongi took it upon himself to explain what the subway was and how it worked.

“They're trains. Cars. Machines that transport humans at high speeds. They're underground so they can cross everywhere without any problems,” he said. “It's much faster.”

“Next time we'll travel at night.”

“Try flying with a baby in your arms.”

Namjoon said nothing more. He held most of Jungkook's weight with one arm and combed his hair with his free hand. The baby squirmed in his grasp as he frowned. He stroked his finger against the child's cheek, his skin warm and pink. Full of life. 

After a subway ride of just under ten minutes, they exited the station and returned to the streets of Lethonya, where they walked for another five minutes. Yoongi glanced sideways at the other man, noticing his silence, and saw him rocking his son as they walked along the sidewalk. Little by little, the buildings on either side disappeared and were replaced by a quiet, small neighborhood. 

At the hospital, Yoongi had told him that he knew a human who could help them, someone who already had experience with babies and who could surely advise them. Namjoon asked no further questions and agreed with suspicious ease. The demon assumed that the devil was refraining from expressing his opinion until he had the human in front of his eyes.

They stopped in front of a two-story house with a white picket fence and a medium-sized front yard. There was a small electric fountain next to the door, decorated with hummingbirds on the edges, as well as toys scattered across the grass.

Namjoon picked up Jungkook and held him face down against his chest. The baby nestled his little head between his father's neck and shoulder and stirred a little while making sounds with his mouth, as if he wanted to suckle.

“Aren't you going to ask?” Yoongi was about to ring the doorbell, but the silence on the other side made him a little uneasy. He caught the devil's attention, but there were no red flashes in his pupils. 

“You mentioned that it could be someone useful. I'll decide if you're right once I can see for myself.”

Yoongi said nothing more and instead pressed the doorbell with one of his fingers.

“Hello?” said a childish voice through the small speaker. “Who is it?”

“Hey, it's me,” said Yoongi, his words sticking together as he spoke. As if he didn't want Namjoon to hear him, but the devil was more focused on understanding why it was a girl who had answered.

“Ah, Mr. Yoongi!” Her tone was filled with excitement. “I'll tell my daddy you're here right now!”

“Yes, thank you.”

After that, the speaker went silent, and Namjoon stepped forward.

“A human child?” He frowned. “Do you think a human child's abilities are sufficient to care for Jungkook?” 

Yoongi sighed heavily and shook his head.

“Do you think I'm stupid?”

Namjoon didn't answer, which made the demon let out a groan of irritation.

“I'm not stupid,” he exhaled heavily. “It's not her I'm looking for, but her father. That's precisely why she can help us: because he's dealt with babies before.”

Then the door to the house opened. They both turned toward it and saw a man with broad shoulders and dark hair. He was wearing a yellow wool sweater and long cotton shorts. When he saw them, he raised his eyebrows, but before he could say anything, a little girl shot out from his side, her hair tousled and wearing princess pajamas. She approached the railing and grabbed it with both hands to shake it.

“Mr. Yoongi!” 

“Hey, kid.”

“Where were you? Daddy asked about you a lot!” 

Yoongi smiled sheepishly and turned his attention to the man, who was now walking toward them.

“What's with this surprise?” he said with a soft smile, no hint of aggression or displeasure in his tone.

Namjoon looked at him with special attention. Just by looking at him, he could tell: This man had a pure soul full of kindness. That ruled out the possibility of setting the house on fire or sinking it (just in case). 

“Sorry for coming so... out of the blue. After so long without seeing each other.”

Seokjin waved his hand and shook his head. The gentle smile did not disappear from his face.

“Don't worry about it. Who is your friend?” He turned to Namjoon and focused his attention on the baby in his arms. “And the little one.”

“He is, um, Namjoon. A… friend? He’s Namjoon. Namjoon, say your name.”

The devil looked at him sideways and lifted his chin. He took another step forward and looked directly at the man, who broadened his smile.

“I am Kim Namjoon, king of the Underworld.”

The man raised his eyebrows and after a few seconds, burst out laughing. His daughter, who was now hugging her father's leg, laughed along with him.

“So you come from the Underworld,” he said when he could calm his laughter. He tilted his head and smiled until his eyes narrowed. “You say the same strange things Yoongi said when I met him. Now I see why you're friends.”

Yoongi cleared his throat.

“Well, Namjoon, meet SeokJin. He's a father and all that…”

SeokJin reached out his hand to the devil through the bars, but Namjoon just looked at it with a frown, as if trying to figure out his intentions. Yoongi clicked his tongue and took the devil's wrist to bring it closer to the other, after which they shook hands.

“Nice to meet you, Namjoon. I'm Seokjin.” He stepped away from the other and patted the head of the little girl hugging his leg. “This little one here is my daughter. Come on, sweetie, introduce yourself.”

“My name is Hina!” She rubbed her head against him, further messing up his hair. “I'm six years old. That baby looks like my little brother!”

Seokjin let out a soft laugh and smoothed his daughter's hair before bending down and picking her up. Hina wrapped her legs around her father's torso and rested her head on his shoulder, her gaze still forward. 

“He's a newborn,” SeokJin said.

“Yes, um, that's what I wanted to talk to you about,” Yoongi said.

“Oh, really?”

“We need your help.” He inhaled and held his breath. “I want to ask you a favor.”

Seokjin's expression turned serious for a brief second, but it didn't last long, as he smiled again and unlocked the gate.

“Okay, but let's go inside first. The sun is too strong to stand out here.” He pushed the gate open and stepped aside. “Come on in.”

Chapter Text

The walls inside the house were a soft brown color.

The hallway was filled with framed photographs, one of which was of a family posing together. Namjoon recognized SeokJin, who was standing next to a woman holding a baby, while Hina, the girl who had welcomed them, was sitting on a high stool in front of them. 

Upon entering the living room, he noticed the sofas with rumpled pillows and sheets, a white plush rug on the floor, and some toys scattered about. The window with brown curtains was wide open, letting in light and the scent of flowers from the backyard. There was a half-finished cup of coffee and traces of incense on one of the small tables next to the sofa in front of the television. On the other side, a photograph of the same woman from the hallway with a white candle lit in front of her caught his attention.

Like the hallway, the walls were covered with photographs, but also with other decorations such as bookshelves, a clock that almost touched the ceiling, mirrors, and even a dreamcatcher.

There was a fish tank on the way to the kitchen, and above it, a paper calendar with several things marked in red. Potted plants of various sizes were scattered throughout the house, some on the floor, while others hung from the ceiling.

Hina ran and knelt on the carpet while Seokjin ushered in and invited them to sit down. Sunlight streamed in through the large window.

“Coffee? Tea?” Seokjin asked.

Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged a few glances, and before the devil could say anything, the demon stepped forward.

“We just want to ask you a favor.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

“So, uh, we won't stay long.” 

Without saying much else, Seokjin sat down across from them on the couch. He smiled softly and glanced quickly at Hina, who had started playing with her dolls on the carpet.

“It's about the baby, isn't it?”

“Yes, it's about the baby,” Yoongi nodded. “I'll be direct. The truth is, Namjoon doesn't know how to take care of a baby, and neither do I.” 

SeokJin tilted his head with a half-smile. 

“The baby's name is Jungkook,” he said, looking at the baby sleeping in his father's arms. “He's a boy, born yesterday. He looks pretty good, honestly... He has, uh, all his fingers, I think, and two eyes and a nose...”

“I'm the father,” Namjoon interrupted. 

“When I found Namjoon yesterday, the baby wasn't being taken care of very well,” Yoongi continued. “So we took him to the hospital and the doctors treated him. But he's fine now. They taught us how to change diapers and feed him milk. But the truth is, we feel very lost.”

SeokJin smiled slightly before sighing and looking at Jungkook.

“Is this your first baby?” he asked Namjoon.

The devil was silent for a moment. It was definitely his first and, in all likelihood, his only child.

It was true that the position of king of the Underworld used to change every seven thousand years, but the birth of the princes of the Underworld was not through a human and a womb, but through the fulfillment of the king's cycle and the desire for an heir, which was formed through fire and the sorrow of souls. When the prince was born, he already knew who he was, his name, and his purpose. That had been the case with Namjoon and all his predecessors. 

Namjoon himself did not remember his father, or at least, not much about him. He knew he was retired somewhere in the Underworld, with a drink in his hand and not much to do, but it wasn't as if he visited him or had any relationship with him. Namjoon couldn't care less anyway. 

But what he did care about was the baby in his arms. He felt warm, a warmth very different from what he used to feel among the endless flames of the Underworld. The earthly world was cold enough as it was, leaving little desire to stay there for too long. But with Élise it had been different, and now with Jungkook it was the same. Namjoon assumed that perhaps he had inherited his mother's warmth, something that tightened his chest and ignited all his instincts. 

“Yes,” said the devil. “He's the first.”

SeokJin smiled slightly and sighed. He leaned back against the armchair and interlaced his fingers above his thighs.

“The first baby is always the scariest, don't you think?”

“Well,” Namjoon looked down at his son. “I don't think Jungkook looks all that scary. But he could be.”

SeokJin laughed and shook his head.

“Of course, I don't mean how he looks. He's cute. I'm talking about you, as a father, the role you take on when a baby comes into your life."

Namjoon gave him his full attention, allowing SeokJin to continue.

“When my wife and I had Hina, we felt just as lost.” His smile reflected nostalgia. “Babies don't come with manuals, and even if you try to prepare yourself, there's always something that takes you by surprise.”

Namjoon looked at the man in front of him and silently analyzed him for a moment. The presence of a wife, of course, must have been the woman in the photographs in the hallway. However, there was something there that the devil couldn't help but notice. A feeling so familiar that it even brought him relief, finding something not so foreign to himself in a world as alien to him as the earthly plane was.

“How did you do it?” Namjoon asked.

“Take care of our babies? Well, you learn over time. Hina taught us as much as we taught her.” Seokjin glanced sideways at the little girl, who was now playing dress-up with a doll. Then he turned his attention back to the baby in Namjoon's arms. “I'm sure it all seems very complicated right now.”

“It is!” said Yoongi.

“And you're sure to make a lot of mistakes, but that's part of it. No parent can afford to be perfect.” 

“But the baby doesn't say what he wants,” said Yoongi, frustration creeping into his voice. “He just cries and eats, and poops and stuff... He drools.”

SeokJin laughed softly.

“He doesn't say anything to me, he doesn't talk,” the demon turned to the child in Namjoon's arms and screamed in frustration. “What am I supposed to do if he dies? This idiot is going to kill me.”

The devil narrowed his eyes warningly.

“Don't think like that,” Seokjin assured him, still smiling. “I can assure you that no one is born knowing how to take care of a baby.”

“That's easy to say when you've already been through it,” Yoongi grumbled. “We're two idiots trying to take care of a baby we barely know. And who doesn't talk.”

“He's still small, be patient with him.”

“So, what advice can you give us?” asked Namjoon, his eyes fixed on his son.

Seokjin hummed for a moment and leaned forward before smiling again.

“Have you started to recognize what calms him down or makes him cry?”

Namjoon and Yoongi exchanged glances before the demon answered.

“Well... he cries when he's hungry. Or when his diaper is dirty. But sometimes he just cries and we don't know what he wants. And I firmly believe that we are the problem. Ugh, if only he could talk!”

“Actually, he is talking to you,” Seokjin said.

Yoongi gave him an incredulous look, which made the other smile.

“Honestly, babies don't have many ways to communicate, so they do it through crying. When he cries, he may be hungry, uncomfortable, or just need to be close to you.”

Namjoon frowned.

“What if we can't understand what he's trying to communicate?”

“Don't stress about it, you'll get there eventually, you'll learn to know him. And he'll get to know you. You'll find your rhythm, I'm sure,” Seokjin looked at the baby and then at Namjoon. “Jungkook doesn't need you to be perfect, he just needs you to be there for him.”

Something tightened in Namjoon's chest, but he wasn't sure what it was. So he simply moved closer to his baby, who stirred in his arms and made faces before relaxing and falling back asleep.

“But he's going to talk, right?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “I mean, Hina talks.”

“But Jimin doesn't yet, does he? All babies are different and learn at different rates. But yes, Jungkook is still very young,” he laughed softly. “If everything is okay with him, he'll learn to talk in a few years.”

That new name must be the baby in the photograph, the one SeokJin's wife was holding. Namjoon scanned the room before his eyes settled on one of the small tables next to the sofa, with a lit candle. The flame danced repeatedly.

“My little brother does talk,” said Hina, which got the attention of everyone present. She, on the other hand, did not take her eyes off her dolls. "He says ‘mama,’ 'papa,' and also 'nana'.”

"Well, that's because Jimin is already learning. But he doesn't say more than a few words.”

“And how old is he?” said Namjoon.

“He's thirteen months old,” he nodded. “He's not here right now. My mom took him for a walk while I made breakfast. By the way, why don't you stay for lunch? I can continue answering your questions, but now with a nice hot coffee and scrambled eggs.”

“No coffee, ew!” Hina got up from the rug and ran to her father, who picked her up and sat her on his lap.

SeokJin laughed.

“Hot chocolate for the little ones, then.”

Hina's smile widened as the doorbell rang.

“Will you make your special sausages?” Yoongi asked Seokjin when he saw him stand up, still holding Hina in his arms.

“Of course, they're always on the menu.”

“Then we'll stay.”

SeokJin smiled at him again, warmer this time, before walking to the door to open it. A woman's voice drifted through the hallway, along with a baby's babbling and SeokJin's loving words.

“How did you find out about this human?” Namjoon said once they were relatively alone in the room.

Yoongi glanced at him sideways and sighed.

“I used to hide in his attic to eat all the sausages I stole in the early hours of the morning, as well as store some of my things and stuff... But one day he caught me and instead of kicking me out, he invited me to dinner.” He scratched behind his ear and grimaced. “I guess he thought I was homeless or something.”

Namjoon thought for a few seconds. 

“What an irreverent act. Why hide in a human's attic?”

“Hey, no one ever went there. It was the perfect place!”

“You broke into a family's shelter.” He lowered his gaze to Jungkook to caress his cheek with his index finger. “I guess you managed to benefit from it.” 

“SeokJin is a very kind human,” he whispered. “You can ask him for all the sausages you want, and he'll give them to you.”

Namjoon knew this, not about the sausages, of course, but about SeokJin's overflowing kindness. His millennia of experience with souls were enough to realize that.

“Did you come here often?” said the devil.

“Yes, somewhat,” he grimaced and lowered his gaze a little. “But I stopped coming. A while ago, to be honest, I didn't want to, uh, depend on him too much.”

The footsteps approaching the living room made them fall silent, and an older woman appeared, smiling at them in a way very similar to SeokJin. She had short gray hair in curls and was carrying Hina in her arms. 

"Grandma, my dad invited Mr. Yoongi and his friend over for breakfast. We're going to have to make a lot of food for everyone!" Hina hugged the woman around the neck and kicked her legs in the air with excitement.

“Good morning, dear ones.” The old woman's voice was sweet and soft, another trait she shared with SeokJin. “Nice to meet you, I'm Miyeon, SeokJin's mother.”

At that moment, SeokJin entered the room with a baby in his arms. Namjoon raised his eyebrows when he saw him. He was bigger than Jungkook but smaller than Hina, with rosy, chubby cheeks, thick lips, and curious eyes that scanned the demon and the devil with particular interest. But soon, his face was adorned with a smile that revealed two small teeth at the top of his gums.

“A baby,” the words came out of Namjoon's mouth before he could think too much about it.

“It's Jimin, my little brother!”

“We'll go make breakfast, please make yourselves comfortable.” The woman went to the kitchen and placed Hina on one of the breakfast bar stools, while SeokJin sat Jimin in his high chair next to his mother, and they set about making breakfast.

Namjoon and Yoongi remained still on the sofa, Jungkook still asleep in the devil's arms. The silence they maintained contrasted completely with the laughter and jokes coming from the kitchen, a warm, everyday feeling that was common in many human families. But even so, the devil couldn't ignore the candle in front of the photo of the children's mother. 

“That woman is dead,” Namjoon muttered, just loud enough for Yoongi to hear.

“Who? The one in the photo?” He turned his attention to the picture next to the sofa and the dancing flame. “Yes, she's dead. She was sick, I understand.”

“I see familiarity in her.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows.

“Really?”

“In a soul I judged eight months ago,” he muttered. “She had a direct pass to eternal rest.”

Namjoon had a very good memory for souls, at least for the results of his judgments. Names were another matter. A 28-year-old woman who died of a prolonged illness, something that weakened her until it finally took her life.

What had struck him most about her, however, was not her suffering or the way she had reached the end of her life, but the serenity with which she had accepted her fate. The woman, despite leaving behind a widowed husband and two young children, had shown an inner peace before crossing over to the other side, something rarely seen in human souls. Perhaps she knew her family well. Perhaps she knew that her home would remain full of life and joy even in her absence.

His stomach twisted. Élise had been the same, except that she was the one who had made the decision to die even before Namjoon could intervene. Besides, he was the king of the Underworld; he was only responsible for judging the souls that perished, not who should do so.

“Namjoon, Yoongi, dinner is ready.”

SeokJin's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. They both stood up and headed to the dining room next to the kitchen. Once there, Yoongi sat down without further ado, and Namjoon followed suit. The smell of eggs and sausages reached his nose. He wanted to complain and say that, in truth, human food still seemed disgusting to him and that he would rather not eat anything, but he didn't. Not when Hina was telling how the teacher had made them paint at school, or when Jimin was laughing in his little chair at the slightest glance, or when he saw SeokJin doing the airplane to feed the baby while Grandma served everyone coffee with a smile on her face.

Two pancakes, scrambled eggs, and three sausages. That was placed on the plate in front of him. He still had Jungkook in his arms, who had woken up and was looking at his father with his big black eyes. He had his little hands close to his face and after a few pouts, he burst into tears. 

That silenced Hina and made everyone pay attention to him. “He must be hungry,” SeokJin said immediately.

Namjoon didn't even have time to form a sentence when he saw him approach the counter to prepare a bottle of milk. The devil pulled his baby closer to himself.

“We were going to eat eggs and he wasn't going to eat anything, I would be angry too, Daddy,” Hina commented as she put the scrambled egg in her mouth and did a little happy dance while eating.

“He looks a lot like you, dear.”

The old woman's voice made Namjoon pay attention to her. He wanted to say something, but again, he couldn't. His voice had been failing him lately, and he didn't quite understand why. The woman's smile widened, and he felt a gentle squeeze on his arm.

“He has your eyes,” she nodded. “He's identical.”

Namjoon swallowed and looked down at his son, who was crying. Seconds later, SeokJin handed him the bottle, and the devil took it, ignoring his trembling hands as he fed his son. Little by little, as the milk went down, Jungkook relaxed significantly, and laughter returned to the table. 

You're not cold or dark, Joon, the memory of Élise's voice echoed in his head, you make me happy, I want the same for Jungkook.

He swallowed.

I'm sure you'll understand in time.

He thought he already did, but now he wasn't so sure. What exactly had Élise wanted for Jungkook? For Namjoon to give him the happiness that he himself had given Élise? He didn't understand how to do that. Much less did he understand how Élise had loved him back, with that pure soul so full of love, which had withered away when she gave birth to the child of the Underworld.

The milk in the bottle was finished, and with that, Jungkook fell asleep again. He left the empty container on the table and held his baby firmly in one arm, while with the other he took the fork and stuck it into a sausage. Then he bit into it.

It was disgusting. But he still swallowed and said nothing more for the rest of the meal.

Chapter Text

A BED COVERED IN BLOOD FOUND AT THE COSTA DORADA HOTEL

Hotel employees find what appears to be evidence of a violent crime.

On the morning of September 2, employees at the Costa Dorada hotel were performing their routine cleaning duties when they entered room 205 and found the sheets soaked in blood. The police were immediately notified and have begun an exhaustive investigation into the matter.

No one was found at the crime scene, nor were any weapons or belongings found that could help solve the case. The Costa Dorada hotel, known in the area for providing accommodation to people in unfortunate situations, has cooperated and supported the investigation. According to the statement given to the police: “That room was occupied by a couple consisting of a man and a pregnant woman. They never left, not even in the morning.”

According to hotel employees, the woman looked weak and tired. “The man was strange,” said one of them. “His face was scary, and he looked at us all very badly. He also refused to pay.”

Is this another case that highlights the constant paranormal activity in Lethonya? Or is it perhaps an attempt by the government to distract us from political problems? Whatever the case, it appears that the woman and the man are missing, while the population is concerned about the baby's well-being.

(...)

After hours of conversation, SeokJin sent them off with a plate of sausages to take away and a reminder that they could visit him whenever they wanted.

So Namjoon and Yoongi began their journey back to the haunted room at two in the afternoon, with a sleeping baby in their arms. They arrived an hour later, and when the devil set foot inside, he stood still.

“Did you make any changes?” he asked the demon, who had already reclined among some wooden debris.

“What? No. It's the same as when we left.”

Namjoon could have sworn there was something different. It felt emptier. However, he didn't comment further on it, instead sitting on the floor and leaning his back against the nearest wall. Jungkook stirred in his arms, still asleep, and the devil stared at the ceiling as silence took over the place. 

He knew it would be like this for now, as long as Jungkook remained silent. He just had to wait a few years, until the baby became a child, then he could talk to him, watch him run or play. The things children do, he supposed. Then he would be a teenager and finally an adult, and that would be when Namjoon could take his eyes off the child without worrying that something would happen to him. And so he would have the opportunity to fulfill his role as father and king of the Underworld at the same time without any problems.

It was a perfect plan.

How many years would he have to wait for that?

Suddenly, despite being an immortal being, the minutes in that room became eternal. Then he began to notice more things about it. The rubble on which Yoongi was lying, the cobwebs in the corners, the windows without glass, the dust, the dirt, the absence of furniture, a crib, sofas, or pictures with photographs full of memories. Toys, clothes, food, a kitchen, or a small table where he could place Jungkook.

It was empty.

But in such a dark and cold place, Élise's voice echoed in his head again, “doesn't seem like a very suitable place for a child.”

“Yoongi.”

“Hm?”

“Go and steal some toys.”

The demon straightened his body and looked at the other with a frown. 

“What?”

“Toys.”

“...What?”

“Have you lost your ability to hear?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow.

“I didn't, it's just…” He shook his head and jumped to his feet. “Toys? Why out of nowhere?”

“I don't think it's appropriate for Jungkook to grow up in such an empty environment.”

“Excuse me? You're the one who chose this dump!” 

Namjoon's eyes flashed red as he straightened up to stand. The shadows in the room began to move like seaweed in the ocean, and Yoongi felt himself growing smaller and smaller.

“Do I have to repeat my order?” Namjoon's voice was thick and deep. “Go steal some toys, you demon!”

Jungkook's crying melted all the anger in him. The shadows returned to normal and the crimson in his eyes disappeared, even though Yoongi was already a ball on the floor. The devil looked at his son and rocked him in his arms, but the baby's crying did not stop.

“Hmm...” Yoongi slowly relaxed until he raised his head. “That wasn't very nice of you.”

“Get out and obey.”

Yoongi left through the window without saying much else.

Namjoon returned to his place on the wall and sat on the floor. He continued rocking Jungkook until he managed to calm him down, but he didn't sleep anymore. Instead, he kept his curious eyes on his father's face and the surroundings. He yawned and moved his mouth as if sucking while making small whimpers.

“Where would be the best place for you, my son?” he muttered and hesitated for a moment, wondering if Jungkook was able to understand him, but since he didn't answer, he decided to trust SeokJin's words and accept that it was still too early.

Half an hour later, Yoongi returned with his white locks tousled and his cheeks flushed, but also with a black bag that, when opened, revealed all kinds of toys: cars, rattles, stuffed animals, dinosaurs, robots, airplanes, superheroes, and many more.

“They caught me,” was all the demon said.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow and approached the mountain of toys before crouching down and laying Jungkook among some stuffed animals. The baby moved his little hands and feet as he watched his dad walk away to stand up.

“Good,” said the devil. “Much better.”

Soon night fell, and the little light that entered the room disappeared completely. Yoongi lay down again in the rubble, but not before grabbing one of the toy dinosaurs to entertain himself with. Namjoon, on the other hand, sat cross-legged in front of Jungkook, who was sleeping among the stuffed animals. 

At one in the morning, the baby started crying again, so Namjoon began to prepare his bottle. After ten minutes of experimenting with the milk, he picked up Jungkook and cradled him in his arms to feed him. The baby ate without any problems and after a few minutes, he was asleep again.

But an hour later, Jungkook woke up crying so hard that his face was red and wrinkled. The devil stood up to rock him.

“This sucks! I bet he pooped,” said Yoongi, still lying in the debris.

The devil sighed and, after placing a blanket on the floor, began the task of changing the diaper. He remembered everything the doctor and SeokJin had told him, and with that, it wasn't such a difficult task, ignoring the fact that Jungkook was crying uncontrollably. The smell, on the other hand, was disgusting, but Namjoon told himself that he had smelled much worse things in the Underworld. 

After cleaning and applying talcum powder, he adjusted the new diaper and dressed Jungkook again before picking him up. But the baby didn't stop crying, continuing to kick his little legs and wave his hands in front of his face.

Namjoon hissed to try to calm him down, but Jungkook didn't stop crying.

After a few minutes, Yoongi complained audibly.

“What's wrong with him? My ears hurt!” shouted the demon. 

It was three hours of pure crying. The sun was beginning to rise on the horizon and Namjoon was still rocking Jungkook, but nothing seemed to work. He was lucky to be the devil and not need sleep, because otherwise he would be completely weak and helpless, not to mention his sore arms.

Yoongi, who had gotten up from the rubble and was curled up in a corner of the room, had both hands covering his ears to try to ignore Jungkook's loud crying.

“Damn it,” whispered the devil.

“I don't think you hate this as much as I do,” Yoongi said after a long period of silence. "Being tied up and forced to listen to the cries of a human creature!”

Namjoon's eyes flashed red.

“This is punishment for your incompetence and disrespect towards the Underworld!” Jungkook's crying increased at his shouting. “Stop acting like you don't deserve it.”

Yoongi opened his mouth in offense and stood up. His tail, normally hidden under his clothes, came out and moved violently behind his back.

“No, I don't deserve this! I deserve to be outside and live like any other demon!”

“A demon does not escape the Underworld!” The shadows in the room began to move. “A demon resides in the Underworld and serves his superiors!”

“Well, I don't want to serve the superiors!” He closed his eyes tightly. “I don't regret anything. Eating sausages for two years and causing storms was the best thing that ever happened to me!”

“Splendid! Face the consequences.” Despite his cries, his arms rocking Jungkook did not stop, but even so, the baby's crying did not cease at any moment.

“Well, you too! You decided to fall in love with a mortal and alter the cycle of the princes of the Underworld, you too deserve this punishment!”

“Jungkook is not a punishment!” His crimson pupils had taken over his entire eye, his robe split and turned into tentacles that moved like the shadows in the room. As he screamed, his voice boomed until the room shook and toys flew against the walls. There was a long silence after his scream, which culminated in Jungkook crying even louder.

Namjoon looked down at his son and hugged him close to his chest.

He didn't understand how Élise had trusted him with this, how she had decided to have the baby even though her body would wither away and leave Namjoon alone. Because he felt alone. He had told himself that he didn't need anything else, that loneliness and his power were enough to raise the prince of the Underworld. Because he was the devil, how hard could it be?

Élise had said he would understand in time, but Namjoon didn't understand. Because he was an immortal being with fire in his veins and a mind created to judge souls, not to change diapers and rock babies. And yet, he refused to return to the Underworld without the certainty that his son would be okay. That was the worst part, because he didn't know what Jungkook needed. With him crying in his arms, he had absolutely no idea what to do. 

That woman with chestnut locks and bright eyes, with warm kisses and loving glances, was gone, leaving behind a tiny human who was incapable of communicating beyond crying. Everything would be easier if Élise were there to explain what to do, because he didn't know.

“Maybe he's broken,” whispered Yoongi, curled up in the corner again. “Maybe he just wants to cry.”

Namjoon fell to his knees and laid Jungkook face down against his chest. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, the baby increasingly tired crying in his ear. He couldn't do it. He couldn't take care of Jungkook.

Why, he thought, why did you die and leave me here alone?

The sun's rays became more and more present in the room, and Namjoon stood up and walked to the window. He ripped off the plastic covering it in one swift motion and jumped out.

“Hey, wait!”

He heard Yoongi's voice as he spread his robe and began to fly upward. The sky was a mixture of blue and orange, and as the sun rose higher and higher, the moon slowly disappeared. Even meters above Lethonya, Jungkook was still crying. 

For a moment, he just flew aimlessly, but little by little he approached the same neighborhood as the day before. He landed in front of SeokJin's door and stared at the doorbell for a long minute, or maybe minutes. He wasn't sure.

He swallowed hard and thought about returning to the ghostly room, but Jungkook's incessant crying kept him there in front of the house. He took a deep breath and slowly raised his finger before pressing the doorbell. He heard it ring three times, and there was a long silence. So he pressed it again. And again. And again.

“Hello?” A sleepy voice came through the speaker.

Namjoon froze a little in his thoughts, and before he could say anything, the voice spoke again.

“Namjoon?” 

Apparently, Jungkook and his crying had been responsible for introducing him.

“Yes, it's... it's me.” His voice sounded hoarse as he spoke.

“Give me a moment.”

After a short silence, the door opened to reveal SeokJin, who was dressed in pajamas, his eyebrows furrowed and his face full of concern. 

“Hello,” Namjoon said. “Jungkook has been crying for hours, and I haven't been able to stop him... I really don't know... I don't know what to do.” 

SeokJin looked at him for a moment before walking over to open the gate and let him in.

“Let's go to the living room.”

Namjoon obeyed.