Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rumi remembered the final battle clearly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rumi, how are you feeling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The demon realm.”

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

Demon.. realm?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. No. No. No. No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rumi blinked at him. “Do what?”

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

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

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

“How can we even trust her?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Abby eyed Rumi.

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

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

“Enough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Takes one to know one, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And yet here I am.”

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

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

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

She was meant to hate him, and yet..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um…”

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

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

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

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

“I never left.”

Huh.

Jinu seemed to have had the same thought.

“You.. you were here all along?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

The melody sounded eerily like a siren's. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

The door creaked open, showing Mystery peeking in. 

“Dinner's ready.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it always… like this?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don't even pay rent .”

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

“You eat.. fire?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You speak French?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jinu grabbed an eraser and wiped everything away. 

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

“So, what do we know about ourselves?”

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

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

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

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

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

Both Rumi and Jinu sputtered at the same time. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Abby,” Jinu warned, stepping forward. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Undeterred, Rumi held his eyes. 

“And I don't want to.”

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

Jinu sighed and clapped his palm against the whiteboard. 

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

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

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

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

—

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

Frowning, Jinu addressed Abby. 

“Way to go, Abby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mystery didn't even look over his shoulder. 

“He said his wrists were hurting.”

“... He was obviously lying.”

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

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

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

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

Come to think of it, where is Jinu?

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

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

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

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

Will he even come back?

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

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

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

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

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

Were they.. worried for her? 

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

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

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

“It's less golden, more iridescent.”

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

“.. Jinu?” 

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

“Can't sleep?” 

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

Her sword had not materialized. 

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

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

“Rumi?” 

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

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

“No, this is actually me sleepwalking.”

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

“And I see you still have the audacity.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She remembered something and looked up at the sky. 

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

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

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

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

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

Jinu hummed noncommitally. 

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

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

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

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

“How did you try to pass through?”

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

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

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

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

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

Her biting words from earlier echoed in her ears. 

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

Jinu didn't answer right away. 

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

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

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

“I hurt you.”

“You didn't mean it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then, choreo?”

“Mira.”

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

“So.. center and looking pretty?”

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

He shrugged. “Still pretty.”

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

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

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

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

“That's—that's different!” 

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

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

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

Chapter Text

“Zoey, you're making me dizzy.”

Mira watched as Zoey paced back and forth in front of her. It had been four days since the Idol Awards. Four days since they defeated Gwi-Ma and sealed the Honmoon. Four days since Rumi had disappeared. 

The past few days had gone by in a blur. The both of them had retreated from the public eye, in a state of loss and devastation after witnessing Rumi vanish before their eyes, swallowed by the very same Honmoon she had helped seal. They'd been a wreck the next day as they crashed into their penthouse apartment, after spending hours scouring Namsan tower for any signs of Rumi—to no avail. 

Mira didn't get much of the details, just that Celine had contacted Bobby and handed him a pretty much watered-down, human-digestable stand-in explanation for what had happened at the Idol Awards. Bobby only called them once—to tell them he'll handle everything including the public and media information and that they deserved their break. 

“Don't worry about anything—and tell Rumi not to feel bad. I'll handle everything.”

Mira didn't know what exactly Celine told him about Rumi, and she didn't bother to ask. Her and Zoey had spent the last few days collecting themselves, dragging themselves out of bed just to shower and eat despite having no appetite, and occasionally crying to sleep. Eventually on the third day of moping, Mira decided it was time to make a move. She dragged Zoey out of bed and they had a mini-meeting in their living room. 

It had taken them a few hours of brainstorming before they realized they had almost zero knowledge of the new Honmoon. And so, after much consideration, they dialed Celine and told her they were coming over the next day. 

Celine hadn't sounded too enthusiastic about that, but then again she was never one to wear her emotions on her sleeve. From the day Mira first met her and was recruited to be a part of Huntrix, the most expression Celine had ever shown her was a faint, almost imperceptible smile when she first summoned her glave from the previous Honmoon. Mira wouldn't have noticed had she not been gauging her expression that day, hungry for praise. 

“Do you think Celine was aware?” Zoey's question pulled her out of her thoughts. She had stopped in front of Mira, donned in a yellow asymmetrical off-shoulder and black leggings. Mira too had gone for something casual, a grey sweater and sweatpants. The comfort was a fresh change from all the glitzy wardrobe they had to wear onstage—a shift Mira never failed to be excited about every time their scheduled idol activities ended. She would have loved nothing more than to waste a day of embodying a couch potato, but knew that so long as Rumi wasn't here with them, it wouldn't amount to anything. 

They were one. All three of them. And no amount of secrets and half-demon heritage was going to change that. 

“About what?” Mira asked, arms crossed as she leaned her entire weight on one leg. She had put up her hair into a ponytail. 

“About the Honmoon.. I don't know, ‘swallowing’, Rumi once sealed?” Zoey made air quotations around the word. 

Mira gave it a thought. She tried to recall an instance where Celine showed hints if she knew Rumi ever stood a chance at being spared by the Honmoon.  

“We are hunters, voices strong. Our faults and fears must never be seen.”

Celine's mantra, for as long as she could remember, had existed from even before Mira had joined Huntrix. Celine chanted it all the time, whenever Mira couldn't stop her mood from plummeting each time her parents called, whenever Zoey got a bit too emotional while watching a melodrama, whenever Rumi got too hasty as a teen while fighting demons, resulting in her getting a few injuries. It was Celine's method of disciplining them; she always reminded them about their roles as hunters, about how imperfections and mistakes have no room, about how the wrong choices will lead to irreparable consequences. And each time she did, she made sure to look at each of them clearly, face never betraying an emotion. 

Mira wondered if Celine herself had no idea about Rumi's fate prior to the Idol Awards, or if she had been gaslighting herself that maybe, maybe, Rumi could be saved from her demonic blood. Whether she knew or not, she never let it show on her face—true to her principles. 

“Only one way to find out. That's why we're here, aren't we?” 

They stood outside Celine's mansion. She'd inherited the private property of a long line of previous hunters, the whole lot almost as expansive as a town. Despite founding and establishing Huntrix herself, Celine had opted to stay at a location far away from Seoul, at the outskirts of Gyeongju city, approximately four hours of driving. Mira was pretty sure her buttocks had flattened after sitting down for so long. 

The property was as vast and extravagant as Celine's reputation in the country. As the leader of the now-disbanded Sunlight Sisters who had once taken over the Korean entertainment industry by a storm roughly thirty years ago, Celine had a band of assets under her name, one of which was the looming mansion before them. The edifice stood tall and wide, blending a natural look of wood and concrete finished in a combination of the modern vernacular architectural style. Wide overhangs stretched past the walls, decked with vertical wooden brise soleils made out of firm timber that gave the mansion that quiet yet elegant visual appeal despite standing for probably over fifty years now. Mira couldn't help but think how much the place suited Celine, and how long it had been since she's last set foot in this place. 

Zoey had begun to pace once more, and just before Mira was about to tell her to calm down again, the mahogany doors were pulled open with a soft clack.

Zoey jumped before she took a quick step beside Mira, falling into place. 

Celine stood in the doorway, a grey robe over a long sleeved loose button up shirt and slacks. Her dark wavy locks curled past her shoulders and on her back in her usual style, shoulders rolled back as always and holding herself rigidly. 

Mira blinked. 

Celine had always looked composed. She could never recall an instance where the retired hunter showed signs of any emotion that wasn't limpid. 

But at that moment, staring at the faintest hints of bags forming beneath her eyes, Mira realized she was just as shaken as they were over Rumi. 

All three of them looked at each other, words lost amidst the mayhem of sentiments that had been compounding ever since losing Rumi. Celine regarded the both of them with an uncharacteristic exhaustion veiling her disposition. Mira heard her sigh. 

“Come in.”

She didn't spare them another glance, turning around and leaving the door open. Mira and Zoey exchanged glances before they followed her inside, shutting the door behind them. 

The inside was just as grand as the outside, a one-storey house mimicking traditional styling with accented modernity. The entrance hall opened towards a living room where a widescreen flat TV was mounted to the wall, facing a neutral brown U-shaped fabric sofa. Decorative home sculptures of various types were displayed on pedestals, and abstract paintings that were most likely worth a couple million won hung on the walls. Mira eyed the alabaster sculpture near the entryway of the dining hall; it was a figure of a man holding an open book in one hand. She held back a wistful smile at the memory of a younger Zoey accidentally chucking one of her shinkal knives at it while in the middle of practicing her throws. It had ended up fracturing the sculpture's other hand, which had been holding on to a pen. 

Years later it still stood on the same spot, one hand less. A witness to laughter, banter, and a growing friendship of three. The memory shouldn't have been as sad as she thought, but after everything that had happened, Mira couldn't help but long for the days where the only problem they used to have was getting Rumi to take a bath with them at the training center's locker rooms. Now, their problem consisted of bringing Rumi back from the demon realm. Mira preferred the former. 

Celine led them towards her study. It was a simple office, with a bookshelf leaning against the wall on one side and a study desk and a swivel chair beside it. On the other side of the room stood full-length windows, showing a view of the grass lawn, and much farther, the training center where Mira used to live together with the other girls who'd been chosen as candidates for carrying on the legacy of the main trio hunters. 

Celine walked towards the windows, hands clasped behind her back. Her reflection against the glass panels showed a hardened fatigue.

“How are the both of you faring?” Her inquiry was straight to the point, laced with the right amount of concern and frigidity. Neither overly emotional nor cold. 

“Physically, fine. Mentally?” Zoey's shoulders sagged as she fiddled with the strap of her shoulder bag. “It's been.. rough, since Rumi.”

It was a few beats before Celine spoke up. “She's in the demon realm. No matter how much you search for her, she won't magically turn up.”

Jaw clenched, Mira felt a frown forming. That bubbling ache she's been plagued with ever since Rumi had disappeared came tumbling back, almost two-fold now. In her periphery, Zoey's head hung low. 

“But that won't stop us from trying to bring her back. You know that.”

“I know that very well,” Celine said. “What I don't know is what brought you back here. I cannot help you.”

“But you know more about the Honmoon than us,” Mira said, stepping forward. “I'm sure you saw it—it's not gold. You always told us our job was to turn it gold, and that would permanently seal Gwi-Ma and the demons away forever.” 

She paused, hands balling into fists. “The end result is different from what we all expected. That has to count for something. There has to be a way.”

From the reflection on the window, Mira watched Celine's brows furrow, her words heavy. 

“No hunter has ever entered the demon realm. There's no precedence; it has never happened before.”

“So is creating a new Honmoon,” affirmed Mira, voice filled with the weight of every emotion she's ever gone through ever since the Idol Awards. She couldn't stop here. She knew Rumi. Wherever she was, she was capable of surviving. But Mira and Zoey were not going to twiddle their thumbs waiting for her to come back. 

Rumi would do the same for them. 

At that, Celine had gone silent. 

Mira continued through gritted teeth, “You said you can't help us. Are you sure you can't, or is it that you don't want to?”

Zoey whipped her head to look at her incredulously, but Mira was unfazed. 

Celine finally turned around to face them, face taut with restrained tension. Mira had never once spoken to her like this. 

“What are you insinuating?”

“You were aware, weren't you? About Rumi's—her patterns. You knew. And you never thought to tell us.”

And just like that, the dam of emotions Mira had been keeping locked in a tight jar had surfaced. She could still recall the face Rumi had made after they found out about her secret, the way she crumbled when they turned their weapons against her. It had been a hasty, impulsive moment— reflex , a decision made because there was not enough time nor effort to process and talk things out. Nevertheless, something had broken inside Rumi that night. Mira would know. Because it had broken her too all the same. 

Celine's jaw tightened.

“I only did what I thought was right.”

“Keeping it from us?” Mira shook her head. “If you truly did know us—if all those years you spent teaching us ever meant something to you, you'd know. We would have accepted Rumi either way—demon patterns or none. Maybe we could have found another way. Maybe then she wouldn't have been dragged to the Underworld. You should know that—we would have worked through it together!” 

Her voice cracked at the end, breath hitching as her eyes burned, tears threatening to form. Damn it. 

She had prepared a list of questions for Celine on the way here. Yet all those had gone out the window like a water faucet running down a drain—Mira realized perhaps she'd been bottling too much frustration to ever think clearly about their situation. 

But how could she think clearly, when Rumi had brought a portion of her to the demon realm? Mira had always regarded them all as extended pieces of her. Rumi, Zoey, Celine. They were all the one thing she had always longed for: a family. A place she called home, where she always returned to.

Now that Rumi was gone and Celine had reminded her of what it felt like to be disappointed by a parental figure, Mira felt her very being shatter. This was her biggest nightmare coming to fruition. 

A flicker of an indecipherable emotion passed through Celine's eyes. Mira once thought of her as impregnable. A fortress that never fell. 

But in that split moment, Celine looked more vulnerable than she's ever had in the thirteen years Mira had known her. 

And perhaps, it was because of that crack that calmed down Mira's outburst. She heaved a shaky breath, collecting herself and mentally counting the seconds that passed. It took Zoey placing a comforting hand on her back for Mira to bring herself back to reality.

Celine couldn't look her in the eye, which was a first. 

“We all have our regrets,” Mira finally said after what felt like forever. “But if you're willing to try again..  if you could just give us a chance.. maybe we can bring Rumi back. We can still make this right.”

She sighed. “Help us, Celine. Please.”

Celine didn't answer. Nor did she ever raise her gaze to meet hers. She wordlessly turned around and headed towards the door behind her desk, which Mira knew connected to her private quarters. 

A haunting silence framed the room as she watched Celine shut the door behind her. 

Zoey felt like her world had been shaken to the core. 

Celine had been their last hope. If there was anyone who could help them find a way to bring Rumi back, it was Celine. There weren't a lot of retired hunters they could contact. The other member of the Sunlight Sisters, Eun Na-ri, had left Korea some time after Ryu Miyeong’s death and hadn’t been in contact with Celine since then. From what Zoey had heard years ago, there was a falling out between them. Celine never clarified how or why, and Zoey never had the heart to pry—not when Celine’s usually guarded face fell each time the Sunlight Sisters were name dropped. 

Mira and Rumi probably didn’t notice. But for Zoey who’d spent her childhood tiptoeing around people, mastering each minute twitch in their expression and change in voice tone—it was as clear as day; for all the walls Celine had put up around her, the Sunlight Sisters was the sole crack that tethered to her deepest vulnerability. 

A few hours had passed since Mira and Celine's confrontation in her study. They had left their belongings in their private rooms—the same ones they used to stay in after they were chosen as the next hunters. Rumi and Mira had been roughly around eighteen years old, Zoey sixteen. 

After spending the last few hours flopped over her bed, Zoey had decided to take a walk around Celine’s private property. She padded down the front porch of the mansion, taking the time to feel the afternoon breeze and the muted scent of earth and grass. The sun was still a few hours away from setting, hidden behind a pack of clouds that casted moving shadows across the lot. 

Zoey took in the smell of her old home. 

She had just turned fourteen when she was first brought here by her aunt. At that time, all Zoey knew about her aunt was that she was her father’s sister, and lived far away from the rest of her relatives, always travelling around the world. During family gatherings, Zoey used to hear about how her aunt had always been the eccentric one; the rest of the family couldn’t seem to put a finger on her, except for the fact it was well-known that she had a beautiful voice. 

Zoey never thought she’d ever cross paths with her, but when her parents divorced and her aunt showed up at her house soon after, fourteen-year-old Zoey had no choice but to pack her bags and fly to Korea with her. 

Her aunt had been a former hunter-in-training, and as it turned out, she hadn’t been the only one. 

It had taken Zoey a few days to process the whole new world that had opened before her. Demons, hunters, Honmoon—and a voice being granted the spell to protect the human realm. Her aunt told her she had the potential to be a protector. To be a hunter . But she had to train first, along with a whole other teenage girls who had come from a long line of previous hunters and keepers— female warriors trained to fight and exorcise demons without the use of enchanted voices. 

Zoey had met Mira and Rumi then, the both of them already being close friends at the time. Mira scared her at first, but after watching her dance and sing in the practice room, Zoey had quickly learned that she wasn’t as rough as people made her out to be. 

And Rumi? 

Ryu Rumi was a prodigy. Gifted in voice and combat and having been trained at the age of nine, it had been a known fact that she was slated to fill one slot of the next line of hunters. Zoey herself fully believed it—but what she didn’t expect was for her to be chosen in the lineup. 

Zoey hiked across the pathway. The gate to the lot opened into a driveway that led to a marbled fountain, encircled by a rotunda and diverging into different tracks. One led to the main mansion, another to the training facility, and the last one stretched towards a distant hill. Zoey headed to the training facility right across the mansion. 

Just like the mansion, the training facility followed the modern vernacular style, blending both traditional and modernity concepts. It was complete with a room of lockers, dormitory, and training rooms and practice studios. In this place, you didn’t only train to kill demons—you were also training to be a performer. 

Zoey placed her palm on the sensor, watching a green line roll down her hand. The machinery beeped, and the entrance slid open. 

The lounge was empty, just as Zoey expected. Since they had ‘ sealed’ the Honmoon, she figured there was no need to continue the hunter training program. Beyond the lounge was a hallway that led to a series of doors, dance practice rooms on the right and combat training rooms on the left.

She passed through the doors, seeing the polished floors and full-length wall mirrors, wooden dummies and target practice. She recalled the years gone by, the time she’d spent in these very walls, from asking Mira to teach her how to dance to opening up to Rumi about herself. It was within the confines of this space where Zoey had come to learn that there was never anything wrong with her. Mira and Rumi taught her that. 

She arrived at the end of the hallway and walked into the locker’s room. She paused in the doorway. 

Because sitting with her back to her was none other than Celine. And she was facing what Zoey recalled used to be Rumi’s locker. 

Seeing the retired hunter who once walked with her head held high, now hunched over in front of Rumi’s locker like a curled up scared child ignited a quiet pang inside Zoey. She slowly made her way inside the room, passing by a line of lockers, all with a different set of personalized stickers and decors of various colors and shapes—these were once used by a long line of girls filled with zeal to protect the world. Despite only choosing three hunters, all of them had camaraderie and an unshaken bond. 

Zoey was a few steps from Celine when she spoke out loud, making her pause. 

“What about Mira?”

Zoey pressed her lips into a firm line. “Resting. In her room.”

It took Celine a few seconds before she shifted. She seemed to wipe something from her face before standing up, turning to face Zoey. She looked like she had aged five more years within a short time frame. 

“You’ll be staying here, I presume?”

Zoey nodded. “We can’t do anything in the middle of the city.. Mira thought our best bet would be to stay here. Make a plan, or something.”

Celine regarded her quietly. She turned on her heel and started walking, and Zoey decided to trail after her. By the time she realized where they were headed, Celine had already stepped out into the courtyard situated behind the training center. 

Zoey blinked. The fish pond was still there, although the fishes were nowhere to be seen. A mini She still remembered holding picnics with the girls out here in the open after a long week of hard training. 

She watched Celine pad over towards the empty pond, circling the wooden decking that had been built around it. Then, she broke the silence. 

“Mira doesn’t hate you.”

Celine paused, gaze sliding over towards her. Zoey saw the pained smile that slowly tugged on her lips. 

“I wouldn’t blame her if she does.”

Zoey shook her head. “She doesn’t. She’s just.. we’re all just lost right now.” She trailed off. “But.. if there’s one thing Mira was right about, it’s that we should have at least known about Rumi.”

Celine returned her gaze to the pond, eyes fixed on the tranquil waters. The silence slowly filled in, and Zoey was just about to excuse herself to give her some privacy when Celine spoke. 

“Baek-hyeon. That was his name.”

Zoey paused, confused. She didn’t get to ask before Celine clarified, 

“Rumi’s father. He was a demon . ” Celine stopped, allowing the information to settle. “Not an ordinary demon either—even until now, I’m not as privy to his entire character as you may think I am. I only know him.. as the man Miyeong loved.”

Zoey noted the change in tone. Heavier. Emotional. Pained . Celine had finally answered a question she’d been curious about ever since finding out about Rumi’s heritage.  

Ryu Miyeong, a hunter. Baek-hyeon, a demon. Rumi’s parents. 

“How could.. a hunter and a demon..” Zoey couldn’t find the right words. “Didn’t Rumi’s mom ever tell you?”

Celine released a soulless chuckle that sounded more like a scoff more than anything. 

“No. She knew I would never agree to their relationship—and she was right.” Celine clenched her jaw. “A demon, of all things.. she kept him a secret. From me and Na-ri. By the time we realized something was wrong with the Honmoon, she was already carrying his child.”

At that, Zoey perked up. “The Honmoon? It was affected?”

Celine reached out for the young tree beside the pond. At her touch, the Honmoon strings pulsed.

“I told her it was because she kept seeing that man, that all our hard work had gone to waste. She endangered humans out of fickle emotions, and fell into Gwi-Ma's trap.” 

Zoey noted the hardened tone around each word she released. Celine said nothing more, but the air between them had seemingly caught a heavier weight, like a hammer wrapped in a thin blanket. 

“But.. you said she loved him.” she said. 

Celine wasted no second. She kept her eyes on her reflection against the pond, as if talking to herself. “A demon and a hunter together will always be wrong.”

“Then what about Rumi?” Zoey said, and Celine stopped, heaved a shaky breath a little too loudly. She couldn’t answer her. 

“If their love was wrong,” Zoey started, thoughts going over towards Rumi. “Then that would make Rumi a mistake. And we both know she’s not. You wouldn’t think of her like that—because if you did.. you wouldn’t have taken her in. You wouldn’t have treated her like a daughter.”

Celine balled her fists. The afternoon sun had begun to set now. Orange hues danced and scattered across the sky, casting warm colors over the entire property. Zoey watched Celine’s figure, now soaked in a shade of red and orange amidst the sinking sun. 

Shaking her head, Celine finally turned to face her. 

“This is why I didn’t want to let you know,” she said, sighing. “You wouldn’t understand. I did it all to protect Miyeong, Na-ri—everything I’ve ever done was for them, always. ” Celine’s voice hitched. “And yet I—”

She abruptly stopped, cleared her throat and diverted her gaze from Zoey’s. 

“Enough. That’s enough. I’ve told you all that you need to know.”

And yet, as Zoey watched the way Celine tried to end the conversation, she couldn’t help but think there was something more. They were missing something, but she thought about Celine and her numerous walls, and realized this step forward was a step more than she expected from her. 

And maybe in the grand scheme of things it was insignificant. But Zoey knew Celine enough to say that she was never as distant as she presented herself to be, and that she wanted Rumi back just as much. 

Chapter Text

A bath was long overdue. 

In Rumi’s defense, hygiene wasn’t exactly her priority at the moment. Between waking up down here and trying to survive, the fact that she’d been wearing her Idol Awards outfit with her braid unwashed and unbrushed for maybe two days now had completely slipped her mind.

It wasn't until on the third morning (at least, she thinks it was the third) did Rumi realize she seriously needed a wash. So after asking Jinu for a change of clothes, she headed for the bathroom, only to turn the faucet to the shower and was met with hissing air. 

Rumi was at a stump. Jinu and the rest of the boys had gone to the central town to gather intel and procure some necessities. She had been told to stay in the house just in case while they scout the area, and she wasn't too keen on rebelling. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, Rumi's eyes wandered over the empty living room before she turned towards the hallway. Mystery had been told to stay behind with her, and she was thankful Jinu had the heart to leave her with the person who hated her the least. She padded towards the door she believed was his. 

Clearing her throat, she lightly rapped a knuckle against the old wood. Rumi waited for about five seconds before she knocked again. When the third attempt was answered with silence, Rumi frowned. 

“Um, Mystery?” she called. Silence. 

Rumi weighed her options for a short while, before she tried her luck and slowly turned the doorknob, assuming Mystery had fallen asleep. It was open. 

She cautiously peeked inside, a voice in her head yelling at her to respect his privacy, the other half egging her on because she was pretty sure she was starting to smell, and Rumi would be damned to continue strutting around the house like this. 

The room was about as big as Jinu's, which was to say, it wasn't that big at all. Just enough for a cot and a desk. Papers littered everywhere; over the cot, across the floor, on the desk, and even stuck to the wall. No signs of Mystery. 

Rumi carefully shut the door behind her, eyeing the contents of the papers. She realized they were lyrics, recognizing lines from Soda Pop and Your Idol written in neat, surprisingly beautiful cursive handwriting. There were even a few lines she believed had been intended for a different song. 

They really took their idol work seriously. 

Rumi walked around the room, careful not to step over the papers. She knew she probably shouldn't be invading Mystery's privacy like this, but she couldn't resist the pull she felt in her stomach after remembering Zoey and how her room was exactly just as cluttered, and smiled at the similarities.

She stopped at the desk and raised a brow when she caught sight of the edge of a paper sticking out of the drawer. She reached out and opened it with the honest intention of fixing it in place, but stopped just as she pulled it open. 

It was a—

Before she could even react, a hand shot from behind her and shut it close with a rattle. Pencils and cup holders on the surface of the desk shook from the impact. 

Rumi whirled around, stomach tight. 

“Mystery—sorry, I didn't mean—I just wanted a bath,” she hastily explained, hands raised. 

Mystery stood before her, skin pale blue with the purple patterns all over him. She wished she could at least see his face to gauge his expression and mentally kicked herself in the head. He was the only one who treated her normally and here she was, giving him reasons to kick her out. 

He looked at her. Well, Rumi at least thought he was. 

After a beat, he spoke. “No water?”

He didn't sound mad. Rumi internally sighed and nodded. 

“I tried turning it on but.. yeah, no water.”

Mystery stared at her for a few seconds. Then he turned around wordlessly. Rumi blinked at his retreating back as he walked towards the door, before she followed after him. 

They went back to the living room and Rumi watched Mystery head towards the sink, bending down to open the base cabinet. He took out a black pail and headed straight to the entrance, all without looking at her. It wasn't until he stepped outside did Rumi realize she was actually curious as to where he was headed, so she followed after him. 

Mystery led her to the back of the house, where an old-looking well stood. Moss had collected between the cracks, and the well head had parts of it that had already broken down. He hooked the bucket handle to the windlass and began to rotate the handle, letting the bucket descend down the well shaft.

Rumi leaned against the side, observing him quietly. 

“I tried knocking, but heard nothing,” she said, breaking the silence as she mindlessly played with her fingers. “I didn't mean to trespass, just thought you were sleeping.”

Mystery nodded without a word, focused on what he was doing. A man of few words, Rumi thought. 

“I didn't know there was a plumbing system down here,” she said, wanting to make small talk. Rumi briefly glanced up at the sky, imagining the human realm up above. The strings of the new Honmoon shone exactly as she remembered. 

“We don't really know where the water comes from, either,” Mystery admitted, mildly surprising Rumi that he was susceptible to her efforts of conversing. 

“What about your food? What else do you eat besides.. that flame soup?”

“Jinu and Baby are usually in-charge of grocery at the market,” Mystery said. “Just the same kinds you'd eat above, I guess.”

A market. There was a market in the demon realm . Rumi had guessed that part when Jinu announced they were heading out to the central town for supplies, but the thought that a place so.. normal , was here , run by actual demons, was a mild surprise. When Rumi first pictured out the demon realm from Celine's lessons back then, she'd envisioned a place of gloom and darkness, flat dry terrains with mindless demons meandering around. 

“So you all just share household chores?”

“Pretty much.”

Rumi tried imagining Romance scrubbing the floor. The picture was a vague, blurry one. 

“I'm guessing you've all been living with each other for a long time.”

Mystery nodded.

“No wonder you're good friends.”

At that, Mystery finally turned his head to her. Rumi's brow rose in response to his unreadable ‘stare’. She really wished she could see his face at least. 

“We're not.. friends ,” he quietly said. 

Rumi blinked at him a few times, confused. The emphasis on the word friends, the silence right before that. 

“Really?” she asked. “What are you then?”

Mystery pondered for a while. “Colleagues, probably.”

“ Colleagues,” Rumi echoed, skeptical. “Of what? Gwi-Ma's lackeys?”

Shrugging, Mystery turned back to the windlass and began to rotate it back. 

“But I thought he's gone now,” Rumi said. “We already beat him.”

“You did,” Mystery agreed. “And it'll probably take some time for him to come back.”

Rumi's heart leaped. She crossed her arms before her chest and pointedly looked at him, shaking her head. 

“ Woah woah woah —hold it. ‘Come back'? You're saying.. he'll come back?”

She tried to not crash out by the thought. Rumi had already considered the possibility, but there was never any surety. Hearing it so decisively from him was definitely a different thing. 

“It did happen several times. He'd disappear for a while, maybe to recuperate, then revive in his altar.”

Rumi could literally feel her heart sinking to her ass. She balked.

“But Jinu said Gwi-Ma had never disappeared before. That he was always whispering in your ears.”

“What he meant by disappearing was Gwi-Ma's voice . He wasn't always in his temple all the time—several times for the last few centuries, he'd go away each time he sustained a large injury. But his voice in our heads never left. So this is the first time.”

Rumi's head spun. She didn't bother to realize this was the first time she's heard Mystery speak more than two sentences. 

“And nobody bothered to clarify that to me during the meeting?”

“I'm sure Jinu was about to, but.. you fought with Abby before he could.”

Oh. Rumi flushed, averting her gaze. “Well, he started it.”

Mystery hummed. “He likes taunting people.”

“It shows,” she grumbled. Ever since their confrontation at dinner, Abby had been doing an Oscar-winning performance of pretending she was air, and Rumi couldn't have asked for anything better. Not that the rest of the Saja Boys were friendly with her, either. 

“So.. Gwi-Ma will come back,” she reiterated, swallowing a pit of saliva. There were two concerns she had with that idea. One, she was utterly alone. To fight against Gwi-Ma, she would need Zoey and Mira to sing their songs. Two, there was the slight issue about her sword. 

Maybe her panic was showing, since Mystery tried to pacify her. “That's just what I think. And even if he does, we're not sure when exactly. Maybe it could be a few months—or even years , considering the magnitude of the wound you gave him.”

Rumi let out a sigh of relief, although the worry never completely left. At least she had time to look for a way back. 

She looked at the sky. 

“Jinu said he's never seen the Honmoon in a different color before.”

Mystery followed her gaze and craned his neck to the sky. 

“It's true, it was always.. white-ish ,” he mused out loud. After a beat, he tilted his head. “Maybe blue?”

Sighing, Rumi shook her head. “If there's no history of a new Honmoon, it'll be harder for us to gather information.”

Mystery made a noncommittal hum, a brief silence hanging in the air. He really was as unreadable as they came, Rumi thought. His tone never changed, his face— at least , what she could see of it—never twitched, and from the short time they had spent together, he was unfazed at almost everything.

“It wasn't the first time the Honmoon had a huge tear, though..”

Rumi's train of thoughts froze. 

“... What?”

Mystery turned to her. “The Honmoon tore apart sometime ago. Not as big as the Idol Awards, but.. big enough to cause problems for the previous hunters.”

Rumi's attention spiked. She stood straighter. “I've never heard of that before.”

Mystery seemed to gauge her attention closely. 

“I don’t think you were born yet when it happened,” he pointed out.

“So when did the tear happen?” Rumi eagerly prodded to the point that she was leaning towards him. She never recalled Celine ever telling them about the Honmoon tearing during her time. 

Then again, she never talks about her life as a hunter. 

Celine was careful whenever the Sunlight Sisters were mentioned, never sharing beyond what was necessary. Now that Rumi thought about it, she was always tight-lipped whenever it came to her past.  

Mystery tilted his head upward, as if mentally counting the years. Rumi realized for a demon who’s probably lived for over hundreds of years, his concept of time was far different from hers. 

“Over twenty years ago? I can’t pinpoint the exact year. Maybe twenty-five.. twenty-four?”

Rumi’s mind whirred. Twenty-four. Roughly twenty-four years ago, she’d been born. Then her mother died after—at least, that was what Celine had told her. But knowing her mentor now, with all the secrets she withheld and their last confrontation in front of the old tree back home, Rumi couldn’t form an exact opinion on Celine at the moment. 

“What happened? Why did the Honmoon tear?”

Much to her dismay, Mystery shrugged. 

“We weren’t told what had caused it—and I wasn’t a jeosung saja back then.”

“A what?”

“ Jeosung saja,” Mystery clarified. “We just call them saja . Executive demons, basically. Chosen officers by Gwi-Ma, granted special abilities to do his bidding.”

Rumi allowed the new information to settle. Now that she remembered, she did occasionally encounter different types of demons as a hunter. There were faceless demons who usually attacked in swarms, like wriggling reptiles that seemed to move mindlessly. There were the regular demons who had consciousness, and there were those who wore black hanbok and gat hats. So the latter was higher ranked, she realized; they appeared less often than the regular and faceless ones, and they took longer to kill—although Huntrix still never lost to them even once. Joseung saja— grim reapers . 

So they called themselves Saja Boys as a pun. Typical . Rumi wanted to roll her eyes, somehow knowing that it had been Jinu’s idea. 

“Then, who was a saja demon when it happened? We can ask them.”

Mystery shook his head. “None. There aren’t any more existing saja demon from before the tear. Gwi-Ma appointed new ones after.”

“Not even Jinu? Wasn’t he a demon for.. four hundred years?”

“No,” he said. “Every saja demon you see now, including Jinu, were all appointed after the tear. We were all just regular demons. It was like.. Gwi-Ma was trying to reform the entire hierarchy.”

Rumi frowned. Gwi-Ma appointed new ones. Her brain was thrumming with all the new information. Whatever happened twenty-four years ago, it was significant. And she needed to find out. 

Plus, if, by some point of fate, the tear had happened during her birth, then all the more reason for her to look into her demon heritage—her father. Rumi just realized that now that she was stuck down here, she had an opportunity to learn more about her parents. Maybe, it was even her key to go home. Maybe. 

For the first time ever since waking up down here, Rumi felt a hint of hope blooming in her chest. At least, she now had a goal to work towards. It was a step forward.

But before that.. a bath. 

Rumi watched as Mystery unhooked the bucket from the rotating shaft and hoisted the bucket on the brick casing. She observed him for a while and remembered something. 

“So.. you paint?”

Something unusual happened. 

Mystery winced in a startle, and the bucket in his hold wobbled, drops of water spilling over the edges. Luckily he managed to re-establish his grip. Rumi was briefly at a loss, confused at his reaction. That was a first. 

She recalled the canvas she’d seen in the drawer of his room earlier. It was a portrait of what looked like a family. At least, that was what it looked like. From what Rumi could remember, there was an older woman—the mother, probably, and four younger girls who all looked like sisters. She only caught a glimpse of it before Mystery had caught her, and she was by no means an expert when it came to the technicalities of painting, but the strokes did look immaculate—something straight out of a classical exhibit. 

Mystery didn’t answer. He hefted the bucket on his shoulder and made his way back to the front of the house. 

Rumi tried catching up to him. “You’ve done enough, I can carry—”

“It’s fine,” he cut her off. Despite the thoughtful gesture, she noted the hardness in his voice as he continued to walk. 

So that portrait was significant, after all. Rumi realized she may have stepped on a sensitive topic. She remembered Jinu and his past, realizing he wasn’t the only one carrying a silent, heavy memory all this time.

Chapter Text

Rumi stared at the whiteboard, plastic spoon hanging between her teeth. She had her arms crossed and a foot tapping against the floorboard. After a while, she plucked the spoon out of her mouth. 

“So this is all you've got?” 

“Hey, in my defense, Baby got sidetracked a bit too hard at grocery. Romance and Abby were in-charge of info gathering.”

“ ‘No more yogurt’, ‘I have more merch than Romance’, Want more Saja Boys comeback’ and ‘Still prettier than Abby'?” Rumi read the list, her voice rising higher with each bullet in restrained frustration. She turned to face Jinu, who at least looked a bit apologetic. 

“There were four of you sent to scout and that was all you found out about our situation?”

Jinu raised both hands. “Rumi, look. I get it. I'm just as frustrated. That's exactly what I told them when we regrouped after three hours.”

Three hours. For the love of—

Rumi palmed her face and groaned. For a group who had almost won over Huntrix and brought a demon apocalypse, the Saja Boys operated on a ‘fuck it we ball’ mentality. The complete opposite of her and the girls.

“And how does knowing that there's no more yogurt help our situation, exactly?”

Baby was the one who answered her. He was across the room, sitting cross-legged at the head of the dining table, preoccupied with his yogurt as he scooped up a spoon. “Everything; yogurt is very important.”

“ Please. Let's be serious here.”

“I am.” Baby finally looked up, face deadpanned at her. “You're even eating one now.”

Rumi glanced down at her other hand, eyeing the little plastic container that held a strawberry-flavored yogurt. Okay. It was delicious, she'll give him that. 

“But that's beside the point,” she said. 

“There was no point made,” he retorted, rolling his eyes. Leaning against his chair, he regarded her with an unimpressed look. “That was the last cup, too. If all you're gonna do is complain, hand it over.”

He lifted his hand, claws glinting under the light, and made a beckoning motion. Rumi felt the small cup in her hold levitate, trying to escape her grasp.

“I never said you could have it,” she hissed, tucking the cup under her like she was a mother bear protecting her cub. 

Baby scoffed and gave up. He returned his attention to his cup. “Stingy.”

Rumi quickly moved on and gestured to the board again. “And ‘more merch than Romance'? ‘Still prettier than Abby'? What are you trying to accomplish here?”

She turned towards the pink-haired duo sitting on the sofa. 

“Exactly as it means, ma chérie,” Romance supplied, hand waving. “That I am prettier than this guy.” He jabbed a finger towards Abby's direction. 

“The merch says otherwise,” Abby countered. As if to prove his point, he waved a little plushie that looked awfully similar to him, but in chibi. It even had abs . Rumi deduced some demons had way too much free time. 

“Look, I don't care about who's prettier. You were supposed to collect actual useful information.”

“ Bien sûr que non.” Romance smiled, dramatically lifting his chin. “You only have eyes for Jinu, after all. Ah, young love. So beautiful.”

Rumi reddened. She didn't dare look at Jinu. 

“That's not—” she bit her lip— “I was just— ugh!” 

“ Young love?” Baby spoke up with a scoff that sounded more like a restrained laugh. “Tell that to Jinu's four-hundred-year-old ass.”

“ Hey .”

“We're getting sidetracked,” Rumi said, grabbing everyone's attention. She was starting to feel sorry for Jinu for leading this group for a long time. She couldn't imagine ever reigning four demons—maybe three (since Mystery was less work)—to fall in line. She wondered how Jinu's hair hadn’t gone gray through the years. 

“Why are we even discussing this anyway?” Abby said, brows raised at her. “I remember a certain someone saying she didn't need our help.” 

Rumi parted her lips but Romance beat her to it. 

“Now, now, Abby. I'm sure she didn't mean it, right, ma chérie?” He winked at her. “We're all trying our best here.”

“Sure,” Abby quipped. “Trying our best. Because she's totally not free-loading.”

For every word that leaves his lips, Rumi is tempted to chuck the plastic spoon at his face. She recalled what Mystery said about Abby's hobby of taunting people, and wondered if that was some sort of actual ability he had, remembering the way Mira and Zoey had been enchanted/distracted by him (his abs, specifically). 

Or maybe, he's just a dick .

Rumi shook the thought away. She wasn't going to bite into his bait. 

Jinu stepped forward and clapped Rumi's shoulder, calling everyone's attention. “Putting your beef with each other aside, I actually do have an important announcement to make.”

The room quieted down before Baby spoke up. “Where's Mystery anyway?”

“In his room,” Romance replied. “He said he was tired.”

Rumi remembered what happened earlier that afternoon. After Mystery had helped her with the shower problem, he cooped himself inside his room for the rest of the day. He didn't say it, but she had a feeling he had retreated because of her, and the guilt came back. 

“And what is this announcement?” she asked, trying to steer the conversation away in hopes they wouldn't force Mystery out of his room. Maybe he needed time. This was the least she could do. 

Jinu cleared his throat. 

“The barrier around Gwi-Ma’s temple is gone. I was going to peek inside, but there were too many demons. I’m planning on going back later—see what I can find. Anyone wants to come?”

“Barrier?” Rumi tilted her head. “Why would Gwi-Ma put a barrier around his temple?”

“No demon is allowed inside,” Jinu said. “Anyone caught trying to trespass was immediately consumed by his fire.”

“Not even you saja demons?”

“Yes, we—” Jinu paused. “How do you know about saja demons?”

“Mystery told me. You were saying?”

Jinu blinked at her a few times before he slowly nodded. “Right. Anyway, like I just said, no demon was allowed inside his temple. That included us, saja demons. Especially us.”

Especially, he said. Rumi could hear a click inside her head. 

“Meaning,” she started, feeling a hint of anticipation, “there’s something inside that place he doesn’t want demons to know. Especially saja demons. What makes you guys special anyway?”

“Our abilities,” Romance was the first to speak. He looked and sounded so proud of himself. “We were granted a portion of Gwi-Ma’s power.”

Nodding, Rumi squinted her eyes at him. “Ability. Let me guess, yours is making hearts out of thin air?”

Romance gingerly waved his index finger at her, claw as sharp as ever. “Tsk, tsk. Très proche, ma chère chasseuse. They’re solid illusions—I can create things out of nothing, and it’ll look and feel real.”

Rumi regarded the rest of them. “And all of you can do that?”

“Each saja demon is granted a unique skillset,” Jinu explained. He was leaning against the whiteboard with arms crossed. “But all demons can do the basic techniques—teleportation, human disguises, blah blah, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Rumi slowly massaged her temple as she took it all in. She had a lot of studying to do if she wanted to keep up with them. “Alright. Then what are your abilities?”

“What makes you think we’re going to willingly tell you? You could be plotting against us.” Baby frowned. He had already finished his yogurt and was fishing the plastic bag they brought with them for more food. Greedy little bastard. 

She rolled her eyes and gestured to Romance. “Well, he did.”

“Romance doesn’t count. He’ll do whatever a woman tells him.”

Romance's eyes flickered. The languid smile he always wore dropped. 

“Careful,” he called, voice thick. “You make it sound like I’m a dog.”

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Rumi huffed. “I'll figure it out eventually.”

“I'll give you a hint about Baby's,” Abby said, smirking as he looked at him. Baby frowned. “Hold your breath when he opens his mouth.”

“I'm going to kill you.”

Romance and Abby snickered simultaneously. Jinu shook his head, although he was on the verge of smiling himself.

It took Rumi a few moments to process. “So… halitosis?”

That did the trick. Everybody burst into laughter. Baby was wholly unamused and looked like he was seconds from combusting while Rumi stood still, confused.

“And you'll be first on my list, hunter,” said Baby, narrowing his eyes at her like a predator. 

She gestured to herself. “ Me? I don't even know why they're laughing!” 

“I feel good whenever Baby is put in his place,” Abby said as he reclined against his seat, face full of bliss. 

Romance laughed gleefully, as if it was the funniest joke of the century. He crossed his legs and arms. “That's what you get for stuffing everything inside your stomach.” 

Baby was about to snap at them when Jinu cleared his throat. “Alright, as I was saying,” he started, giving them a pointed look. Everybody quieted down. “I'm planning on going back to the temple later. But I'll need a person or two as lookout while I investigate. Who wants to—”

Rumi raised her arm before he could finish. “Me. I want to go.” She realized and added, “Not as a lookout. I want to investigate, with you.”

In the brief pause that followed, Romance muttered, “Clingy. How cute.”

The tips of Jinu's ears turned red, which was a feat in and of itself because of his pale blue skin. He ignored the comment. “Alright. There are bound to be fewer demons when we return, so it'll be safer for you to come. I was thinking of inviting Mystery, too.”

“I'm going,” Baby piped up, shooting a scowl at the duo on the sofa. “If I spend one more second in here someone is going to die tonight.”

A beat passed. 

“That's one second,” Abby said. 

Baby sucked in his teeth with a hissing sound. “That's it. Clench your teeth.”

A mischievous grin tugged on Abby's lips. “Game.”

Before Rumi could even ask what was going on, Abby disappeared in a puff of smoke the same time a fork pierced the spot on the sofa where he had just been sitting. Baby, who was responsible for the throw, stomped his foot, cursed under his breath, and dispersed in a cloud of pink. 

Silence replaced the noise, and Rumi was left staring momentarily at a loss. Romance shook his head in disapproval, reaching out to pluck the fork and turned it in his hand as if inspecting it.

“Clearly, maturity doesn't come with age,” he mused, and an invisible force lifted the fork from his grasp and flew it gently across the room, clattering onto the sink. 

The meeting-but-not-actually-meeting adjourned. An hour later, they had a light dinner. Baby and Abby were covered in bruises as if they came straight out of a back alley brawl, the latter having a bloodied cotton ball stuffed up one of his nostrils. Rumi never bothered to ask what happened after they teleported from the living room. Mystery had emerged from his room to eat and was quick to accept Jinu's offer of going with them to Gwi-Ma's temple.

As the four of them were getting ready to leave, Abby and Romance sat at the dining table, playing a round of rock-paper-scissors. Loser washes the dishes. 

“ Merci .” Romance wore a triumphant smile, hand gestured as paper. Abby was glaring at his balled up fist as if it was a separate entity from him. 

“I don't even know why you bother trying,” Baby commented unamusedly, arms crossed as he sucked on a lollipop. “You suck at games.”

“Shove it, garlic breath.”

“You want that nose surgery so badly, huh.”

“You really ought to respect your elders.”

Baby played with the lollipop with his tongue. He grinned. 

“Alright, old man.”

Rumi turned to Jinu, who was just about to head out of the door. “Are they fine like this?”

He waved a dismissive hand without even looking. “That's how they show their affection.”

Minutes later, the group of four was heading towards the main town. It wasn't that far, just roughly about ten to fifteen minutes of hiking. Jinu said there would be fewer demons at night. Rumi didn't know how he could tell the time—the sky remained the same shade as last time, indigo patterned with glowing pearlescent strings. A cold wind accompanied the group as Rumi watched the entrance of the town grow bigger and bigger the nearer they got. The gate, shaped like the traditional hongsalmun with red-painted pillars supporting black interlocking tiled overhangs, stood grand and imposing, and Rumi could just about make out the outlines of old traditional houses and structures beyond the entrance. 

“Why do we need a lookout, anyway?” Rumi asked Jinu.

“Gwi-Ma has loyalists,” he answered without taking his eyes off the road. “Although they're not much of a threat to us for now since he's gone. But I'd rather avoid any kind of confrontation with them.”

“Weird,” Rumi remarked. “You'd think with all the manipulation Gwi-Ma did, he'd have more haters.”

“It's not entirely black and white.. some demons enjoy what they do.”

“So,” she said after a few seconds passed.  She turned to him. “What happens when you—when demons can't get souls?”

Jinu pursed his lips as he pondered over the question. “They go mad.”

A brief silence followed after that, before Rumi spoke up. 

“Mad? As in, mad mad?”

“ Mad mad,” Jinu confirmed with a nod. “They lose what little consciousness they have and become empty husks, driven only by instinct to kill. You saw them during the Idol Awards.”

Rumi recalled the swarm of faceless demons Gwi-Ma released at Namsan tower. They were weak, but the sheer number was overwhelming enough. She thought about all the demons who had succumbed to that form, wondering what it was like having to let go of what little ‘free will’ you had. As if Jinu and the rest hadn't suffered enough already. 

“And they stay like that forever? What happens when they revive?”

Jinu shook his head. “They don't.”

Rumi couldn't believe she was starting to feel sorry for a whole lot of nameless demons. But if they were all initially like Jinu, caged by their shame..

“So that's it? They just attack mindlessly?” 

“Yes, and they especially go after hunters who ask too many questions.”

Baby's voice suddenly joined their conversation from behind. A bubble of irritation swelled inside her. She aggressively rolled her eyes. 

“I wasn't talking to you.”

“I was talking to myself,” Baby said. “I'm quite the self-entertainer.”

Rumi didn't need to look behind her to see the smug plastered all over him. She could practically feel it dripping from his voice. 

“He's so annoying,” she complained to Jinu, as if he could do something about it. He just nodded. 

“If it helps, he's like that to everyone,” Jinu said. “It's innate.”

“I call it equality.”

Jinu shook his head. He turned to Rumi. “I've known him for a hundred years, and there wasn't a day where I didn't get the urge to choke him.”

“Uhuh,” Baby said, sticking his head forward so that he was between Rumi and Jinu. “A hundred years, and I've never seen you hand over your soul to some girl you've known for two weeks before, either. The passage of time can be funny."

Jinu spluttered and almost tripped over a rock. Rumi felt the heat rushing to her cheeks at the implication. She looked at the sky like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Baby, zip it,” Jinu hissed. Baby leaned back and crossed his hands behind his head with a smirk. Beside him, Mystery walked along quietly.

The conversation was cut short as soon as they arrived at the gate. The central town resembled an ancient traditional village in old Korea, except it was darker, gloomier, and whatever adjectives you could think of that would suit a place inhabited by demons. A combination of rock, timber and wooden beams were constructed to form an arrayed line of hanok. Empty stalls and stacks of crates littered all over the road, mimicking the exact picture of an actual street in a village in Joseon era. 

Jinu was right—there were barely any demons outside. Some were leaning against stalls, fast asleep, some staggering as if drunk (Rumi didn’t even know demons could get drunk), and some hanging out in small groups in dark corners and alleyways. Rumi caught sight of a particular demon slumped on a dilapidated water well, eyeing her as they passed by; she adjusted the hood shadowing her head and shifted uncomfortably. 

A hand tugged her arm protectively.

“Stick close,” Jinu muttered, eyes glued ahead.

They walked further deeper into the heart of the town that felt more like a broken down capital. The roads got more windy, houses became more worn out, and the air more grim. 

“Is it just me or is the mood getting more.. depressing?” Rumi asked after a while, frowning while craning her head. Even the fog itself had shifted into a darker shade of violet. 

“Of course,” Baby drawled in sarcasm. “We're heading to the world's happiest place, after all.”

Rumi couldn't even bother to feel annoyed, not when the structure loomed before her like the maw of a dragon. The temple rose from the mist and stretched tall and wide. Rooftops curved in classic hanok style, glazed in iridescent black tiles that shimmered with runes. The walls, the same ominous color, were etched with shifting Hangul scripts pulsing as if alive. Beside the massive entrance, two statues of mythical lion-dogs stood like guards, piercing eyes boring straight through them. As a finishing touch to the eerie picture, glowing paper lanterns floated in the air like fireflies, suspended by an invisible force.

Gwi-Ma's temple. 

Rumi's eyes scanned the edifice, half in awe, half in horror. 

“We'll need at least one lookout,” Jinu announced, reaching over to close her hanging jaw. “Two will come with me inside.”

Baby was quick to volunteer. “I'll do it.”

Jinu looked slightly skeptical. “You better not leave us to fend for ourselves if anything happens. You're a lookout for a reason, alright?”

“What do you take me for?”

After leaving behind final instructions, Jinu led Rumi and Mystery inside. She half-expected the lion-dogs to come to life and lunge at them just like in movies, but luckily they passed the entrance without having to battle life-sized mythical creatures. 

The entrance hall was just as if not more dreary. The mist bled a darker shade of violet, curling and slithering across the cracked tiles that had been engraved with varied mandalas. Obsidian stoned pillars stood scattered across the halls and supported the high ceiling, which had also been painted with all kinds of ancient murals that had long begun to fade with time. On the walls, carved niches displayed empty torches, and statues of different deities were propped in between them, all fractured and missing some parts.

“I can see why Gwi-Ma doesn't want people in here,” Rumi said. “The maintenance is atrocious.”

Jinu snorted, before he cleared his throat and controlled his smile. “Alright. We'll split up—I'll take the hall ahead. The both of you head to the right wing.” 

Rumi looked up and noted the hall ahead of them. To their right, between two statues was another hall. It was too dark to see the room inside of each hall, so she surmised a corridor was connecting each room to the other. The thought of separating didn't feel good to her. 

“Why don't we just explore together?”

Jinu looked at her. “The faster we survey the area, the better. We don't know what's lurking inside—or outside—this place,” he paused, gauging her face, before he continued. “Don't worry, Mystery will protect you if anything happens.”

Mild irritation—and perhaps, a dented pride , bubbled inside her. Rumi raised a brow. 

“Thanks, but that's not what I'm worried about. I can protect myself just fine.”

“Trust me, I know,” Jinu said. “But you can't summon your sword right now, can you?”

His statement hit bullseye. Rumi awkwardly shifted on her feet, eyes averted as she pressed her lips together. That was already an answer in itself. 

“So at least until you get it back, or until we find out what your demon abilities are—if you have any—you'll have to be careful.” Jinu nodded at Mystery, who returned a silent nod of his own. “Alright, that seals it. Meet me back here in thirty minutes. And if anything happens, run back to the entrance.”

Once Jinu was a few steps away from them, Rumi couldn't help but grumble. “Why's he acting like a leader?”

“Because he is ,” Mystery answered, already turning on his heel to head to the right wing. 

“He's your leader, sure, but not mine.” Rumi followed after him. “Is it because he's the oldest among you?”

The opening led to a dim hallway. Rumi made sure to not stray too far from Mystery as they walked. 

“He's not,” he answered. Rumi's brows rose. “It's actually Abby.”

“Abby is older?” Rumi gave it a thought. “He doesn't act like it, not with the way he argues with Baby.”

Mystery made a small noise—probably a subtle laugh through his nose. 

“They act like that, but they're actually pretty close.”

That was what Jinu said earlier, too. Rumi thought about it and realized they acted more like brothers, if anything. Then she recalled what Mystery had said about them all not being friends, and the confusion returned. 

Maybe they just don't want to admit it, she thought. Maybe bonding over trauma, being manipulated by Gwi-Ma, and stealing souls together weren't the most ideal friendship hangout activities. But even she could tell there was something deeper than a mere collegiate bond hanging underneath their relationship. 

“So, why is Jinu the one leading your group?” She didn't think of Abby nor Baby the type to follow just about anyone. She thought about when she first woke up, when Abby suggested getting rid of her and the way Jinu stepped up and told him off. She remembered how they all eventually deferred to him. 

“It's his ability,” said Mystery. “It makes him leader by default.”

Rumi was about to ask what this ability was when the hallway opened into a chamber of some sorts. They stopped at the entrance, momentarily transfixed. The place was far brighter than the entrance hall, and it was probably because the source of light came from the pool situated at the very center of the room, where glowing water shimmered as if it were breathing. 

Rumi and Mystery walked over and quickly realized that the water wasn't exactly water after all. At least, that's what Rumi thought. The ‘water’ slithered around like living strings, all piled up together in a glow of iridescent blue and mimicking ripples of a water fountain.

She peeked into it and saw her distorted reflection against the surface.

“I'm guessing you have no idea what this is,” she said without taking her eyes off the pool. 

“.. As a matter of fact, yes, I don't.” Mystery sounded just as dazed as her. 

The longer Rumi stared at the moving strings, the more she felt a beckoning pull in her gut. A weird sensation seemed to pool inside her chest, welling up, and a sudden surge of strength radiated from it. She felt.. invigorated. 

“I'm sorry about earlier,” she said after a while. She felt Mystery's curiosity when he briefly glanced at her. “For making you.. uncomfortable.”

From her periphery, she could just about make out Mystery slowly nodding. 

“It's fine.” Mystery's voice trailed, as if he was contemplating adding more. Rumi waited. 

“It's been a while since someone brought it up, so I was just..  caught off guard.”

Rumi turned to him. Mystery was gazing at the surface of the water-like substance, the bright blue bouncing off his face. 

“Not even the guys?”

He subtly shook his head. “They saw my.. my paintings, but.. they don't really mention it to my face. Maybe they can feel that it's.. personal.”

His voice was low, almost undiscernible, and he was stumbling over his words. Rumi felt worse knowing she had touched upon a sensitive topic. The Saja boys clearly had more tact around each other than she expected, which honestly did surprise her, considering the way they talk to each other. And they said they weren't friends? Psh. 

Rumi returned her gaze to the pool. That tugging sensation returned. Somehow.. she had an urge to touch it. 

Gwi-Ma had banned entrance to this temple. There had to be something he was hiding. And if that something had anything to do with this pool of weird water-strings.. 

Before she realized, Rumi's hand moved on its own. 

She heard rustling from her side. A blurred movement. Mystery had lurched towards her. 

“Rumi, wait —!” 

Just as his hand latched around her arm, the tips of her fingers submerged into the water. A sudden electric charge passed through her, and an invisible force yanked her down.

Hot, searing swelter engulfed her. Increasing voices penetrated her ears. 

She was sinking lower into what felt like a deep body of water, rays of light trapped in bubbles as the surface got farther and further. She tried holding her breath for as long as she could, until she let go and realized she could breathe just fine. 

Overlapping, garbled noise traveled through the water, all combining into an incoherent chorus of different voices that threatened to split her skull. Her head throbbed from the overwhelming sensation, and the heat burned her skin despite being underwater. An undercurrent wave pushed and pulled her across the water, treating her like dough; her body was on the brink of collapse from the sensory overload. 

Up. She needed to swim up. But invisible tendrils curled around her legs, preventing her from moving. 

The voices were getting louder. She cupped her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. 

When she opened them again, she realized the voices were coming from the bubbles floating before her. She squinted and saw it: moving images flashing inside the bubbles, resembling snippets of a movie. 

The tug in her stomach returned. Among the sea of bubbles, she focused on a particular one—a young adult in old traditional hanbok, who felt awfully familiar. 

Instinctively, she reached for the bubble and watched it pop as her fingers touched it.

Scenes flashed and moved before her like a movie forwarded. 

A man, probably in his early twenties, was in all of them. Short light hair, gentle, handsome features, a soft smile and warm gaze. He felt and looked familiar, Rumi thought.

Then when he opened his lips and spoke, it hit her like a truck. 

The scene changed. Canvases of varying portraits flew as time passed by. One scene showed him in a shabby house, going home to his mother and three younger sisters. 

It shifted once more, showing what looked like a revolt erupting, civilians squaring up against soldiers. 

Rumi was at a loss—the scenes were moving too quickly for her to comprehend. 

Another scene flashed before her, this time, more vivid. And it caught her by a mixture of surprise and horror. 

The young man was now on his knees, tied up, all bloodied and beaten up as if he'd just gotten out of a torture chamber. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth, one eye swollen and bruised. Before him lay torn up canvases of symbols and sketches Rumi was unfamiliar with. They seemed to be in the middle of a palace courtyard. 

The young man jerked up, eyes widened as soldiers led a family of four to stand before him, sacks over their heads. One soldier stood behind each of them. The young man screamed a guttural cry, and it took Rumi the next second to realize what was going on. 

An execution. 

The soldiers behind the family swung their weapons. Rumi looked away. 

A bundle of emotions swirled. She felt an urge to halt whatever vision she was seeing—this was too horrifying, too personal, too vulnerable. This was a line she should not be crossing. 

But the vision didn't end there. Rumi had to watch soldiers march up to the young man, stepping over the torn canvases beneath their boots. One grabbed him by the hair. Another pointed the sharp edge of their weapon directly to his eye.

Then, a distant garbled voice split through vision. 

“—mi… ru…. mi… Rumi!” 

Her eyes sprang open. Dark spots blurred the edges of her sight. There was a hazy silhouette peering down at her, a trembling palm pressed close to her cheek.

“ Rumi ,” the voice exhaled. He spoke in quick syllables and sounded frantic. Jinu. “Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

She blinked a few times, mind sinking between the haziness of the vision and waking back to reality. 

Gwi-Ma's temple. The pool of water-strings. Bubbles. A vision of someone's life. 

Screams. Blood. Swords. Trampled paintings.

Rumi felt bile coming back up. Her head throbbed like it had been hammered in while she was asleep, and her limbs weighed like an elephant's. Her head was propped up on Jinu's lap as he carefully cradled her in his arms.

“Can you sit up?” he asked, shifting from his position as Rumi attempted to move. 

Her vision spiraled. She held the side of her head and held back a groan. The urge to puke was potent. 

Then her eyes strayed towards the man who was sitting close to them leaning against the side of the pool, and Rumi froze. 

He had the same build. His mannerisms were an exact replica. Only his hair had changed, but Rumi was sure of it. 

The young man in the vision was Mystery. 

He looked less disoriented than her as if he too had just woken up. He turned to her, and for a while, none of them said anything. 

Then, they all felt it. 

A sudden heaviness dropped in the air, as if unseen weights had been stacked over their shoulders. Rumi was thankful she was already sitting, else her legs would have folded from the sheer power. The weight was so dense she felt her lungs fold, constricting her breathing. 

“ What's going on? ” Jinu protested through heaved breathing, eyes at the ceiling. Rumi didn't know how he did it, but he was standing, albeit his stance was about to topple anytime now. He turned to them. 

“I don't like this, let's regroup with Ba—” 

He paused. 

Rumi was about to ask him what's wrong, till she followed his line of sight. 

Because there, standing at the entrance of the room, was a demon. 

A palpable tension hung between them. From each of Rumi's side, she could feel both Jinu and Mystery tensing up as they straightened. Their movement told her the new face was foreign. 

Rumi squinted. He was dressed like a saja demon, black hanbok all throughout, except there was no hat. His hair glowed the same shade as blood, ominous and dangerous. It was no question that the overbearing aura was coming from him; everything in him screamed powerful. 

The only trait that distinguished him from the saja demons she knew of was his eyes. 

Because instead of bewitching golden, they were piercing crimson red. 

Chapter Text

There was something enchanting about the unknown demon's eyes. Rumi tried her best not to get sucked in by them, but the gleaming red bouncing off was like the pendulum of a hypnotist. Her head was still pounding from waking up from the vision, her limbs still gooey like jelly, and her feet were planted in place, glued by the weighted air. 

The demon's eyes scanned each of them slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. They darted from Mystery, to Jinu, finally stopping at Rumi. His eyes, carrying the weight of a thousand tons narrowed just a tad, and Rumi swallowed a pit of saliva. 

Jinu stepped in front of her, shielding her from the demon's view. 

“And who might you be?” He flexed his hands, claws sharp and threatening to cut. 

The demon briefly glanced at his clawed hands. Rumi swore he sighed under his breath. 

“For trespassers, you're awfully bold.”

His voice wasn't grating and gravelly as Rumi had expected. Instead, he had a deep low-pitched voice, resonant and commanding. So he wasn't Gwi-Ma (thank god). But his warning tone didn't make her lower her guard any less. 

Jinu frowned at the man. “Trespassers? Are you.. a guardian of this temple?”

“So what if I am?”

Jinu's shoulders tensed. Rumi gulped. A guardian of the temple meant the demon before them served Gwi-Ma. An enemy. She tried discreetly summoning her sword, but to no avail. Her head was still throbbing and showed no signs of stopping. She wanted to vomit.

Before she could even think of a plan, Jinu lunged forward. 

He didn't even get a meter close before he was suddenly tossed to the side by an invisible motion. Jinu's back hit a pillar with a thud, pushing out a pained grunt from him. 

Rumi's head whipped. She didn't even see the demon lift a hand. “Jinu!” 

Jinu slid to the floor, coughing. With one eye cracked open, he managed to croak, “Mystery!” 

Rumi didn't know where it came from, but suddenly, a creature leaped from behind her and barreled towards the demon. An involuntarily gasp escaped her lips. It was shaped like a wolf , giant-sized with thick snow white fur as a coat. The fur was so long it covered the wolf's eyes, almost reaching past its snout. It leaped into the air, jaw stretched open as its canines glinted, threatening to bite into the red-eyed demon. 

An uninterested gleam shone in the demon's eyes. He flicked a hand, and the large wolf was sent flying past Rumi and crashing into the wall behind her with a pained yelp. Dust billowed from the impact.

Saucer-eyed, Rumi stared at the demon, heart beating wildly. Strong. He was so strong . And he hadn't even actually touched them. She doubted she could do anything even if she could get a hold of her weapon.

The demon redirected his attention towards her once more. Her breath hitched. 

Then, he started walking. 

His footsteps clacked against the walls of the chamber. For every step he took closer, Rumi felt her vision spiral. That throbbing in her head was still splitting her skull. Her fingers twitched. She had to do something. 

But that pressured air returned, keeping her bound in her place, and Rumi felt all the strength leave her body as the demon stopped right in front, crimson gaze boring straight through her. 

The demon scrutinized her thoroughly, the space between his brows knitted so minutely that she couldn't have caught it unless she was really looking at his face. 

He slowly lifted a clawed hand, the tips of his fingers reaching for her face, when —

He stopped. 

His claws were a mere centimeter from touching her face.

The demon narrowed his eyes at the hand that was firmly gripping his wrist. He turned and watched uninterestingly as Jinu panted heavily, one hand latching onto the demon's wrist, the other clutching the side of his stomach. His hair hung on his forehead disheveled from the previous attack, and eyes glowed a bright yellow , irises narrowed into thin slits as he glared at the demon. 

“ Don't touch her.”

The demon blinked, unfazed at Jinu's threat. A second passed before Jinu suddenly staggered and was brought to his knees, gritting his teeth. There it was again. That unseen, heavy pressure. 

The demon looked down on him with the gaze of a prideful king as he slowly lifted a tightened fist, the air around his hand illusorily warping. His lips seemed to twitch in what looked like mirth. 

Rumi finally snapped out of it and shoved herself between them, arms stretched wide in a poor attempt at shielding Jinu, despite her skull about to burst.

Fuck it. 

She inwardly scolded herself for being so useless at this time, but what else was she supposed to do?

Her legs shook as she tried her best to keep them from folding from the pressure. She tried glancing around the room for something— anything— she could use. At this point she'd even settle for a broom. 

Her eyes landed on the pool. 

That weird tug in her stomach returned. The hairs on her skin tingled, the same sensation she had felt when she touched the water in the pool moments ago. 

Rumi shifted her eyes to catch his gaze. The red in his eyes flickered for a moment. Then, it was as if her vision cleared. 

The next thing she realized, Rumi was staring at her own reflection in his eyes. Something happened, and for the briefest of moments, her reflection distorted, morphing into another figure—

A demon with patterns. Crimson eyes. Vivid, violaceous hair. 

She blinked the reflection away, shaking her head and watched as the demon before her actually staggered. His face twitched as he averted his gaze from her, a hand pressed against his eyelid. The pressure in the air lifted, and Rumi could finally breathe without feeling her lungs burning. 

What was happening. 

The demon shook his head as if trying to flick the pain away, hand still pressed on his eye. “Ugh, you're his daughter, alright.”

Rumi paused for a second. What did he just say?

“ Daughter?” She echoed, finally finding her voice. “What are y—what is— who exactly are you?”

It was as if a switch had gone off and the threatening aura the demon exuded had evaporated. Rumi watched the demon shake his head as if he was so done, before he turned around and walked towards the pool. He sat on the edge with a sigh, leaning forward so that his arms were propped on his lap. He held the side of his head like a migraine was forming and began massaging. 

“I should've known the Honmoon would drag you down here,” he muttered, more to himself. “ Damn it, Baek-hyeon. You had one fucking job.”

Rumi was at a loss. If this were a cartoon there would have been a loading sign turning over her head. 

From behind her, Jinu slowly stood. Rumi was about to lend her shoulder for support when he gently waved her off. He frowned at the demon, who was casually perched on the pool like he didn't just swat him and Mystery like flies moments ago.

Meanwhile, Rumi had walked over towards Mystery to help him up.

“You're.. not on Gwi-Ma's side?”

The demon made a face of disgust. 

“Ew. No.”

Jinu looked indignant. 

“So what was—” he waved his arm, wincing from the movement— “ all that for? You attacked us for nothing?!”

The demon lifted a finger, like a teacher correcting a student.

“ You attacked me first. It was self-defense.”

“Self-defense?” Rumi had never heard Jinu so pissed before. “You could have at least told us you weren't an enemy!” 

“I was about to,” the demon said. “But then you looked so serious and tense, so I just thought ‘ Eh, why not?’ Besides, it did make for a powerful first impression.” 

Rumi and Mystery exchanged glances. Jinu was full red in the face. 

“You haven't answered the main question yet. Who are you?”

The man sighed before he straightened up. His red eyes flickered. 

“Hyuk, Gwi-Ma's high priest and guardian of the tomb. At least, former high priest. Before her father—” he jerked his head towards Rumi— “decided it was worth everything to risk it all for some human hunter.”

Rumi perked up at that. She stood from kneeling beside Mystery and fully faced him. Her heart thudded against her chest at the mention. 

“My father? You know him?” 

Hyuk's eyes slid over towards Rumi. He gauged her carefully. 

“More than knew him,” he said, and she swore he sounded a bit wistful. “We worked together. He was a high priest in this temple.”

That revelation dropped a silence in the chamber. Rumi's brain was working overtime to process it. 

Her father, a high priest. Not only did he serve Gwi-Ma, but apparently, he had been one of the highest ranks in the demon hierarchy. 

She already had an inkling, but the question still left her tongue, eager to clarify, if only to have some sense of closure.

“Where.. is he now?”

Hyuk teared his eyes from her. It took him a while to answer, but Rumi already knew by then. 

“Gone. Got absorbed by Gwi-Ma twenty-four years ago—the demon equivalent of eternal death.”

There it was again. That timeline. Twenty-four years. The Honmoon had a huge tear. Her parents died. Just two facts, but it was enough to tell her that her birth had brought upon a lot of disaster. The thought that she'd been a mistake was coming back in full force, and just when she was starting to accept herself, too. 

She could feel Jinu's careful gaze on her before he turned to Hyuk. 

“You feel.. ancient,” Jinu pointed out. “I thought Gwi-Ma killed off all the jeoseung saja from before the tear happened.”

“Evidently, he failed,” Hyuk said. 

“What really happened?” 

A trickling silence flowed inside the chamber. Hyuk briefly looked over his shoulder, eyeing the pool of glowing strings behind him. When he looked back at them, his face wore the expression of a heavy, untold story. 

He looked like he was about to tell them, but just as he parted his lips he froze. Hyuk slightly tilted his head with a frown, eyes closed. Then, he disappeared in a puff of smoke. 

Because right at that moment, a pillar of fire shot through the spot where he'd been standing.

Rumi and the rest flinched backward as blazing heat filled the chamber. Sparks of red and orange crackled and danced in the air. It didn't last long, as the flames dissipated after about five seconds. Rumi whipped her head to where the fire came from, prepared to face a real foe this time, but could only pause comically as her eyes landed on Baby by the entrance. 

He was panting as if he'd run a marathon, posture slouched as his hands propped on his knees. His hanbok was all wrinkled like he'd woken up from a nap, and there was a bruise forming on his forehead. He looked absolutely livid. 

“Fucking piece of shit,” Baby cursed. “I've got a bone to pick with you!” 

Sheepish, Rumi rubbed the back of her head. She totally forgot about him. And judging by Jinu and Mystery's reaction, they probably did, too. 

Hyuk had teleported to the other side of the pool, hands crossed behind his head. He looked like he gave no fuck, and he probably really didn't. 

“Oh, the little demon. Sorry about that—but to be fair, you charged at me first.”

“You knocked him out?” Jinu asked. 

Hyuk shrugged. “Demons these days have a bad habit of attacking before thinking.”

Flushed, Jinu scoffed. “And ancient demons have a habit of dramatizing everything.”

“Hey, old man!” Baby marched over, golden eyes fixed on Hyuk. “Enough running away—we have a score to settle.”

Baby took three steps before he suddenly paused. An invisible force plucked him from the floor and he lay suspended in air. He flailed his arms around.

“Put—me— down!” he growled. Rumi had to admit, it was a sight to see Baby being put on literal air jail time by an ancient, all-powerful demon. 

Hyuk sighed as he walked around the edge of the pool. “You're a thousand years too early to be challenging me.”

“Baby,” Jinu called. “It's fine. He's not hostile.” His voice trailed off, as if he wanted to add something. Maybe an I understand you, I want to sock him in the face, too. 

Nodding, Hyuk looked at the floating demon with open arms. “That's right, little demon. I come in peace.”

Baby's eyes burned like coals. He parted his lips and Rumi was expecting to hear another string of insults drip out of him, but imagine her surprise when a jet of violet liquid shot from him, aiming at Hyuk's face. The older demon teleported away and the liquid landed on the floor instead, sizzling and bubbling like acid. Hyuk appeared right beside her but she was too struck at Baby to even flinch. 

Then she recalled the pillar of fire from earlier and blurted, “Is that.. your ability?”

Still suspended, Baby burped a ring of smoke, glare fixed on Hyuk who was studying him meaningfully. 

“An alchemist. So everything you digest comes out in different substances,” Hyuk mused, nodding while he held his chin. “I haven't seen an ability like that in decades.”

Rumi recalled Abby and Romance’s words. So Baby's constant eating wasn't greed nor did it cause halitosis, after all. Or maybe, the former thought still holds true; Baby could still be an alchemist and be a greedy bastard. 

She remembered something and turned to Mystery. 

“And you—can turn into a wolf ?”

Mystery looked at her. “Shapeshift.”

Rumi slowly nodded, taking in the new information. Hyuk looked over her shoulder, humming at Mystery. 

“Your technique could use a bit of work; back in my day, those with shapeshifting abilities could turn into humongous dragons.”

Mystery did something uncharacteristic. He snarled and growled at him. When he noticed Rumi gaping, Mystery shook his head as if snapping out of a trance. He held the side of his face and hung his head. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, evidently embarrassed. “It's.. a side effect. From transforming.”

Oh. That made sense. 

“It's, um.. it's okay.”

Rumi tried collecting her thoughts. All these supernatural demonic powers—and none of them could damage Hyuk. 

Except.. 

Before she could finish that line of thought, Baby's disgruntled voice interrupted. 

“What the hell's going on? Why are you all buddying up with this guy?”

“I just told you,” Jinu sighed. “He’s not an enemy.”

“Bullshit,” Baby spat. “Enemy or not, I’m socking him in the face.”

Hyuk gauged him closely with narrowed eyes. He slightly tilted his head, lone brow raised. Immediately, the air inside the chamber got heavier. Rumi felt her breathing pick up in a desperate attempt to chase after the stolen oxygen, a hand clutching the front of her borrowed (Jinu’s) shirt. Mystery tried to assist her from toppling to the floor.

Baby’s face paled. Jinu scowled at Hyuk. 

“Knock it off,” he said, breath in apparent labor. “You think this is funny?”

Hyuk scoffed. “An initiation rite was due; you ought to show some respect to your senior jeoseung saja.”

“Our reactions are pretty much valid towards someone who just popped up out of nowhere and made himself look threatening.” 

Hyuk mulled it over. Five seconds later, the air lifted. Rumi inhaled in a gasp. Baby flopped on the ground like a dead fish. Jinu straightened. 

“Alright—high priest. You have a lot of explaining to do. And for the love of god, no more of that gravity voodoo shit.”

Chapter Text

Jinu's head spun. 

His back was still killing him. He wasn't usually the type to lose his temper—he was the resident ragebaiter, making others lose their temper was his job (second to Baby). But Hyuk was giving him a run for his money. 

“Where have you been hiding all these years, then?” he asked. “You mentioned Gwi-Ma ‘failing’ to kill you.”

He couldn’t imagine Gwi-Ma not knowing where his former high priest had been hiding. Unless Hyuk had been up on the surface, there was no place here in the demon realm that Gwi-Ma did not control.

Hyuk shrugged. He was sitting on the marbled edge of the water pool, legs crossed casually. Rumi and Mystery stood near him, Baby as far as possible as if he was allergic to the older demon’s presence. Every time Jinu glanced at him, he looked like he was seconds from jumping Hyuk. He didn’t blame him at all, considering the humiliation Hyuk had put him through. Had Romance or Abby been here, they’d never live it down.

“You’re asking the wrong question,” Baby scoffed. “Why are his eyes blood red?”

Jinu wanted to tell him to set his priorities straight, but he couldn’t deny his curiosity. This was the first time he’s ever seen a demon with red eyes instead of the usual golden hue.

“I’m guessing it’s because he was one of the older saja demons before Gwi-Ma appointed new ones,” he mused out loud. “You’re.. different.”

Hyuk shifted his eyes towards him. No matter how many times he’s seen it, there was that uncanny feeling swirling around in his stomach whenever he sees Hyuk’s eyes. It was like watching a hypnotist. 

“Hm, at least one of you is smart,” Hyuk remarked, earning another nasty look from Baby. “But in actuality, your two questions are connected. I escaped Gwi-Ma’s radar precisely because of these eyes.”

Jinu’s brows rose. He could feel the curiosity oozing out of his companions. “Kindly elaborate.”

Hyuk straightened himself briefly before he resumed his slouched posture. He muttered something under his breath; it sounded like an ancient language, and judging from his tone, he sounded like he was voicing a complaint. 

“Where do I even start?” He scratched his head. “Well, first off, the previous generation of saja demons were, by default, far different from you. We were more powerful, more skilled, more versed with our abilities. All of it came from Gwi-Ma, as you already know. He’s the one who grants us our abilities in the first place.”

Jinu knew that part. Gwi-Ma hands pieces of his soul to every saja demon, granting them an ability they can use to serve and deliver souls to him. All of the abilities are miniature skills of Gwi-Ma’s—meaning you can’t have an ability the demon king  doesn’t have; it’s basically a lottery system—you don’t get to choose what ability, and Gwi-Ma doesn’t particularly care about what you get either, unless he has taken a special interest in you. Unfortunately for Jinu, he was one of the latter. He’d been granted the one ability that mocked the only thing he really had that reminded him of his past, before everything had turned for the worst.

Baby mocked beneath his breath, “Oh look at me, I’m not like other demons— PAH! Enough with the power trip. We don’t have time for your life story. Get to the point.”

Rumi shot him a frown. “Can’t you be patient? We’re getting there.”

“Oh please, hunter. Among all of us here, I bet you’re the one most eager to ask him questions.”

Jinu watched Rumi’s face twitch in a deeper frown. He could tell Rumi was itching to shoot questions. He recalled the expression she made when Hyuk told her about her father—a wave of protectiveness washed over him. He didn’t know how else to describe it; ever since Rumi had woken up here, he’d felt a sense of responsibility that was never there before. After all the hell he had put her through, he figured looking out for her in a place where she was practically powerless was the least he could do. 

“Can we let the guy finish?” he sighed, rubbing his temple. “Baby, save the violent reactions for later.”

Baby grumbled something but kept quiet. A cue for Hyuk to continue. At least he was keeping his end of the whole ‘no-more-stealing-the-oxygen’ deal.

“Gwi-Ma made us powerful,” he said. “But that ended up backfiring against him.”

He stopped and turned to Rumi. 

“Baek-hyeon’s betrayal was a big blow to Gwi-Ma. Because of it, Gwi-Ma learned to regulate the abilities of the saja demons. He killed off the previous ones, and appointed new saja demons. This time, much weaker. Easier to manipulate.”

“ These eyes are proof of that strength.” He raised a hand, pressing a light finger against the side of his eye as he regarded them. “Luckily for me, my ability made me a manipulator of the veil. I masked my presence—yet another proof of Gwi-Ma’s lapse in judgement. Clearly, the guy never thought any of his men would turn against him.”

“ Veil ?” Rumi repeated, turning to Jinu for clarification. “What’s a veil?”

“Also called the mist,” he said. “The translucent fog you see hanging around the entire demon realm? That’s the one. They say it’s what holds this place together. Like.. the Underworld’s equivalent of oxygen and core energy.” Jinu looked at Hyuk. “So that’s your ability. Not some gravity-whatever, nor a somewhat advanced telekinesis that we all have. You can control the actual veil.”

As far as he was concerned, Jinu had never encountered a demon with such an ability. Most of the saja demons he knew of had superficial powers that were even borderline useless in actual combat. When Gwi-Ma reformed the entire jeoseung saja caste, he was actually serious . 

“You mentioned my father’s name,” Rumi spoke up. “Baek-hyeon.. right?”

Hyuk’s face morphed into an unreadable expression. 

“Yes. As a high priest, he was undoubtedly one of the strongest demons there was. A shame he had to give it up for some hunter.”

Rumi pressed her lips in a thin line, eyes dropping. Jinu wanted to punch Hyuk in the face. 

“And yet you turned your back against Gwi-Ma, too,” he said, an edge to his voice. “You’re not that much different from him.”

It took Hyuk a moment to answer. “Maybe. But if your boss went on a killing spree of all his employees because of one colleague, you’d have no choice but to turn against him, too.”

A layer of tension had collected in the air. Jinu and Hyuk shared a silent staredown. He balled his fist, irate at the realization that this guy had a tongue as tactless as Baby. 

To Jinu’s surprise, Rumi was the one who shattered the brief silence that had arrived. 

“My father’s power.. it had something to do with memories, didn’t it?”

All eyes turned to her. Jinu spoke before Hyuk could. “You say this because?”

Rumi never took her eyes off the older demon. 

“I.. saw something. And I don't know—” she shook her head— “this room makes me feel something. Like.. like there's something tugging my head.”

As silence trickled in, Jinu's eyes darted back towards Hyuk, who looked contemplative. 

“Did you touch the Whisperwell?” 

Rumi looked at Jinu, but all he could offer was a clueless shrug; he was just as lost. 

“The what ?” Rumi asked. 

Hyuk nodded towards the structure behind him. “This thing I'm sitting on. It holds all the demons’ memories. At least, those still alive.”

At that, all eyes shifted towards the pool of glowing water—although now that Jinu had a closer look, it wasn't actually water. They were undulating strings, shimmering in holographic blue.

“A pool of memories,” Rumi said. “Thought so. Yes, I.. accidentally touched it. Just before you arrived.” Her brow twitched in a subtle frown before she looked at Mystery. There was a silent look shared between them, and Jinu recalled the scene he'd stumbled upon when he stepped inside the room. The both of them had been knocked out cold, slumped on the ground. Jinu initially thought they were attacked. 

“Then that explains why,” Hyuk said, almost begrudgingly. “It activated your ability. That's why you saw through my—” he cut himself off. A few seconds passed before he resumed.

“Anyway, you are correct. Baek-hyeon was Gwi-Ma's favorite, and he had a powerful voice. Gwi-Ma decided to amplify it. Your father's voice alone could entrap souls and send them over to Gwi-Ma; to top it off, Gwi-Ma gave him his trump card—the ability to hold and control memories.” Hyuk's eyes flitted around the room. 

“This chamber was where Baek-hyeon spent most of his time. Gwi-Ma's high priest, and the Keeper of Memories .”

As everyone heard the new revelation, Jinu's mind was in the process of compartmentalizing the information when—

“Badum-tss.”

All heads turned to Baby, who couldn't have looked more unimpressed. 

“Baby,” Jinu warned, massaging his temple. Gods forbid, the blasted idiot was going to send them gasping for air again. 

Shrugging, Baby crossed his arms and leaned his weight on one foot. “You said to leave the reactions for after .”

“Was it really necessary?”

“Felt it was the right moment,” he said. “And I was expecting to hear some actual useful information, like how to break the new Honmoon, for example ”

At that, Rumi straightened. “Wait, what? Break? Who said we were going to break the Honmoon?”

“I thought that was the plan,” Baby said, lone brow raised.

Rumi looked horrified. “Then what? Let all the demons flood back to the surface? I won't allow it.”

“I thought you wanted to go back,” Baby said. “Look at yourself. In case the marks aren't proof enough, you're a demon yourself.”

Rumi parted her lips to retort and quickly closed it. “I'm—that's—… I'm half.”

“And that makes it better?”

“Look,” Rumi finally snapped. “I don't care what you think, but I'm not letting demons—” 

She suddenly stopped. Jinu wasn't sure what she was thinking, but she looked at him. Then at Mystery. Then at Hyuk. 

“Is there.. a way to pass through the Honmoon without breaking it?” 

Hyuk looked at her for a moment before he sighed, shaking his head.

“This is the first time a new Honmoon's been created. I'm about as clueless about it as you are.” Jinu's hope was just about to be deflated when Hyuk added, “Although if there's one thing I do know, it's that the concept of a full golden Honmoon was impossible from the start.”

That seemed to catch Rumi's attention. “ Impossible? But.. but Celine said.. I saw it turn gold. Not permanently, but it almost did.”

Hyuk nodded. “The flickering gold? Yeah, I know. That's why I said ‘full’ golden Honmoon.” He looked at Jinu. “Gwi-Ma didn't tell the newer saja demons this. I don't know, maybe he just wanted to push everyone harder—a manipulation tactic or whatever. But the Honmoon was never meant to be a perfect, pure barrier.”

This was the first time Jinu has ever heard of it. Gwi-Ma was always dangling the threat of a golden Honmoon over their heads, and he always sounded so anxious over it, so Jinu never thought he'd been lied to. But then again, Gwi-Ma was an entity full of secrets. If he could hide the truth about all the dead saja demons he had absorbed, this wasn't a far-fetched notion. 

But Rumi had other ideas. 

“So you're saying Celine lied to us?” There was an edge in her voice as she stepped forward, staring Hyuk down, whose eyes seemed to flicker at the mention of that name. 

“Celine.. that's your predecessor, isn't it?” 

Jinu noted the tone of familiarity. Did they know each other?

If Rumi's parents—one a hunter and the other a high priest, could have a fateful chance encounter, what was stopping the others from knowing each other? 

“I don't believe it,” Rumi firmly said. “Celine.. she believed it can turn to gold. That's what all hunters have been trying so hard to achieve all this time.”

Jinu's worried gaze darted over towards her. A deep frown was etched on Rumi's features as she stared at Hyuk, balled fists by her side and her teeth sinking into her lips. 

A few seconds of staring passed between them.

“Anyway, I'm not here to convince you,” Hyuk said as he stood, turning around. The air around him seemed to shimmer in vibration. “It was merely out of a sense of obligation to show myself—since you're Baek's kid and all. But if you don't want to believe me then I'm not forcing you.”

“Wait,” Jinu called. “That's it? Where are you going? You haven't explained everything yet.”

He barely got any new leads to go with. You'd think an ancient demon with maybe over a thousand-year knowledge would have some useful info stored somewhere in his memory. 

“I'm not all-knowing,” Hyuk said, nodding to the pool. “If you want answers, perhaps take a dive into the Whisperwell. If you're lucky, one of those memories holds the key. But a word of advice—only the girl gets to touch it. If any of you regular demons do, you might as well shrivel into a withered plant.”

Before Jinu could even move, Hyuk disappeared in a puff of blood red smoke. The spot where he disappeared appeared to flicker, like a transparent glass had been placed over it, until it returned to normal. 

They were left in the chamber, confused and standing like ducks with more questions than before. 

“Great,” Baby grumbled, breaking the silence. “This is all because you got too emotional. We barely got any useful information from the guy.”

The statement was directed at Rumi, who whipped her head towards him, gaze sharp.

“What is your problem?”

“I literally just said it— you got too emotional. And in the situation we are in right now, our first priority should be how to break the Honmoon. Not to delve into the boo-hoos of your parents' tragic love story.”

“Baby, you went too far,” Jinu chided. 

“ What do you know?” Rumi interjected before Jinu could scold him further. “I wouldn't expect you to understand. You wouldn't understand living your entire life always being told that some part of you was.. was.. wrong .” She looked at her own patterns. Jinu saw the way it flickered pink and violet like moving water. 

As if in response, the wisps of strings in the pool—the Whisperwell—pulsed. A hum in the air inside the chamber echoed against the walls. 

“Only the girl gets to touch it.”

“Rumi,” Jinu called in quick strides over towards her. He reached for her arms and tried to soothe her, noting how unusually warm she felt. He didn't like seeing her so.. hopeless. Back at Namsan Tower, she had already begun to accept her half-demon heritage when she faced Gwi-Ma. Now, with every new revelation they discover, it was like they were back to square one. 

Rumi's eyes were fixed on her arms, voice cracking. “I.. don't know what to think. I don't know what to believe anymore.”

Jinu mentally cursed Hyuk. And pictured himself socking him in the face.

“Then don't think about anything. For now, just.. just rest. Let me handle it.”

Rumi slowly leaned forward and rested her forehead against the crook of his neck. It was only then did Jinu feel it— she was burning hot. 

“Rumi, you're running a fever,” he said, worry dripping. When he didn't hear a reply, he realized she had fallen asleep. He carefully bent down and hooked his other arm behind her knees, lifting her up and securing her in his arms. He turned to Baby and Mystery. 

“The investigation is on hold. I'm teleporting her back home.” He frowned at Baby. “You owe her an apology.”

“You always take her side,” he grumbled. 

“This is not a matter of taking sides,” Jinu snapped. “Baby, I know you don't trust her yet. We were once enemies. But now, we're literally on the same side of the Honmoon. And I already have my hands full with Abby's attitude.”

“Abby's more reasonable than you at this point,” Baby countered. “And it's not like she's perfect either.”

“She may not be,” Jinu said. His grip over the unconscious girl in his arms tightened. “None of us are. That's why we're working together .”

Jinu allowed the weight of his words to settle as he turned around and closed his eyes. He felt the shift in the air as he pictured his home—and that familiar tug in his stomach came.

He heard a pop in his ear, then felt a force pulling his body. 

When Rumi woke up, she surmised it was already nighttime in the demon realm. Maybe it was just her, but the more time she spent down here, the more she was starting to grow accustomed to the flow of time. She couldn't exactly explain why, but she could tell it was nighttime despite the sky being the same blue-violet color as ever.

She was back in Jinu's bed, having barely any recollection of when and how she got here. The last thing she could remember was the gradual heat that was spreading across her body, her head throbbing, the sudden exhaustion, then leaning on Jinu—

Rumi shook her head, then came the other memory: their conversation with Hyuk. 

An invisible pang thumped somewhere in her chest. Something seemed to lodge itself inside her throat. 

There were a lot of things her mind had to catch up, to process. Sure, maybe things were complicated between her and Celine, but she always thought she knew everything there was to know about the Honmoon. Celine always sounded so sure; the golden Honmoon was their final goal. Had been. 

But the current Honmoon wasn't gold. It was an assortment of colors merging together, irised and opalescent. 

It was never meant to be a pure, perfect barrier. 

Rumi threw the blanket that was over her body and padded out the room in quick steps. The hallway and the living room was absent of any living thing. The urge for some fresh air overtook her, and she found herself exiting the house. 

She couldn't get too far; Jinu already told her to stay within the premises. So instead of running away to some distant horizon she opted for the next best spot she could think of—the rooftop. 

If there was one thing the Honmoon didn't take away from her, it was her agility and fast reflexes. She scaled up the side of the house in fluid movements with grace, swinging her body to hoist herself on the rooftop. Then she momentarily froze. 

“Mystery?”

He sat one knee propped up, the other dangling over the edge. At the noise, he turned to her, mild surprise shooting even through his bangs. 

“Can't sleep?”

“Just woke up, actually.” Rumi walked over and sat a few spaces beside him. “You don't mind?”

He shook his head and was quiet for a while. 

“Are you thinking about what Hyuk said?”

A few seconds passed before Rumi nodded. “I still have a lot of questions for him, but for now I'm just trying to make sense of.. everything.”

Her parents. Her birth. Celine. The Honmoon. How to go home.

Home. 

The homesickness was undulating, drowning Rumi like a relentless wave. She briefly wondered about where Hyuk had gone after their encounter. She recalled the silhouette she saw in his gaze. 

The man with hair the same shade as her with crimson red eyes. There was only one name she could think of that probably fit those traits. 

Her father, Baek-hyeon. 

It was only a glimpse, but the image was fully engraved in her memory. She's already seen pictures of her mother growing up; Celine often brought her with her every time they visited Ryu Miyeong's grave at the very back of Celine's property. There were album pictures stored in Celine's mansion, together with their third member, Eun Na-ri. 

Although limited, Celine gave Rumi enough stories about the Sunlight Sisters to get a glimpse of her late mother. But the subject of her father was always a quiet taboo between them. Everytime Rumi tried to bring it up, Celine was quick to shoot it down. 

You're not a demon, Rumi. You're just like your mother, a hunter. 

Knowing about him won't make a difference. You are human. 

He was nothing more than a demon, unlike you. You are your mother's daughter, Rumi. 

Rumi thought about Hyuk, her father's old friend. She thought about the discovery of her new powers—she could barely control it, but she was certain: she had inherited a portion of her father's demonic abilities. Memories. 

She looked at the demon sitting beside her. 

Mystery was looking over the horizon, lips pressed in a tight line. Unreadable. 

The Whisperwell. 

That answered her initial question—the memories she saw when she touched the well were Mystery's. 

“You saw my memories,” he suddenly said without even looking at her. It caught Rumi by surprise.

“I..” Her gaze dropped. Flashes of images. The courtyard, the execution. The young man screaming in agony. “Yes. I'm sorry, I didn't mean—”

“I know,” he cut her off. “You can't control it, that's probably why you weren’t feeling well after. I think.. it's because I grabbed you when you touched the well.”

The memory came rushing back. Rumi did feel Mystery grabbing onto her when her fingers dipped into the water. 

“Aren't you gonna ask me?”

Mystery's question grabbed her attention. It took her a while before she could answer. 

“I don't want to pry. And you're not obligated to tell me either. We all have our stories.”

Mystery nodded after a few moments. 

“Our stories, huh..” He looked at the sky where the Honmoon shone just as bright. 

“I think.. I agree with Jinu. We may have once been enemies, but now we're just… us. Stuck together. We can't do anything if we can't even trust each other.”

Rumi was about to ask him if he could actually trust her when he continued. 

“You saw my family, didn't you?”

She thought of the aged, weary woman and the three young girls. 

“We didn’t have much, but we did what we could to survive,” Mystery said, a wistful undertone hanging beneath his voice, as if he could still picture events of long ago. “I loved doing art, so I made it my livelihood.”

Rumi recalled the scatter of colorful canvases that surrounded him in almost every scene; alone in rooms, out on the streets, in the palace courtyard. It was a motif in Mystery’s memories—a young man with sharp focused eyes on his craft, delicate strokes brushing the surface of white paper. 

“It was a time of social unrest. The Imjin War left cities barren and starving. People—especially those from the lower class, were getting angry at the monarchy.”

Rumi was silent as she listened to Mystery delineate the details of the memories she saw from him. She remembered the revolts, peasants taking up arms against royal soldiers. 

“Revolts back then weren't large-scale nor did they have good planning,” he said. “It was just made up of poor, angry people who only wanted something better. My friend was one of them.”

Rumi paused. She didn't recall seeing anyone else in his memories back then, but then again, they were flashing before her in succession, too quick for her brain to catch up. 

“He told me to join him,” he said. “That maybe, we could start a change in this country. If we could just unite the people.”

He paused and looked at his hands. 

“He told me.. I could use my passion, my hands, my eyes—for something meaningful . He said art is the most powerful tool for propaganda. For change. I.. did kind of believe him.”

His palms balled into tight fists. Rumi noticed the way his lips slightly trembled. 

“I joined the revolution, painted portraits, posters, symbols. Art has always been accessible to everyone, and many joined the fight. At some point I thought.. we were doing great.”

Rumi remembered the scene at the palace courtyard. 

“I never knew how they found me,” Mystery said, voice low almost in a pained whisper. As if the wound was still fresh. Maybe it was. There was no deadline for grief, more so if you never had the chance to feel it. Rumi learned the hard way the consequences of running away from your pain; it chases after you relentlessly, begging for you to face it. 

“Maybe there was a whistleblower. Or they just found out after months of digging—I don't really know. But the next thing I remember, I was dragged to the palace,” his breath hitched. Mystery fell silent. “Well.. I guess you already saw what happened after that.”

Rumi couldn't find it in her to speak. After torturing him, they had brought his family and executed them in front of him. 

“My family wasn't the only thing they took from me that day,” he said. 

Her heart dropped when she remembered what she saw.

“Your vision,” she said. “They took your eyes.”

Mystery slowly raised a hand and placed it over the spot on his hair where his eye was. 

“Death would have been easier,” he croaked. “I.. I was so mad at everything, I gave in: I told them where and who the rest of the rebels were; the revolution was squashed shortly after. And I.. was still alive.”

He heaved a shaky sigh. 

“For some reason, my life was the only thing I had left and the one thing I hated the most. Had I known… that this—” he dug his fingers through his hair where his eyes should be—” would make me lose everything, maybe I shouldn't have picked up a brush in the first place.”

“But that wasn't your fault,” Rumi interjected before she could even think. The words came tumbling out. “You're not the one who killed your family.”

“I might as well have been. The rebels stopped because I sold them out.”

“You had no choice—”

“But I did, ” Mystery argued. “You see, the thing with revolts.. people die. Sacrifices are inevitable. The ones who died before me gave it all in hopes for a better future. But I caved in.”

“That's what Gwi-Ma wants you to think,” she insisted. “We know how he operates. He feeds on our guilt, our doubts . He knows how to get us. You're not God , Mystery; you lost the people you love. You have feelings too, and we act on those. That's what makes you human .”

It hit Rumi just as the word left her. Human. That one word, one label that she always used to agonize over. All her life she was taught demons deserved nothing more than death and hatred. Until she met Jinu, and thought that maybe, she wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. And now, talking with Mystery like this, hearing him lay out his heart for her to understand, maybe she was misunderstanding a fundamental key about these two worlds of humans and demons. 

Mystery released a low, quiet sigh. 

“I heard Gwi-Ma shortly after everything, while I was rotting in that prison cell. He couldn’t bring back the dead, but.. he could give me back my eyes. I didn’t know what to think. It was a strange feeling, growing to hate doing the one thing you always enjoyed. And yet despite it all, I accepted his conditions: freedom in exchange for my eyesight.”

Rumi realized the conflict Mystery was going through. He had been granted back his vision yet he constantly hid it behind a veil, as if ashamed. She knew that feeling all too well. 

“What happened to your family wasn’t your fault—it was a matter of circumstances,  beyond your capacity. There’s no one to blame but the people behind it. You were a victim too, even if you survived. And that’s not a weakness, nor is your grief.”

She looked at him. 

“You think you did something irredeemable. I think you did something human.”

Mystery turned to her as the weight of a revered silence hung in the air. A breath of hushed understanding and vulnerability passed. He looked at the horizon once more, unreadable beneath the tuft of hair that hid his face. Rumi wanted to tell him he had nothing to be ashamed of—but acceptance didn’t happen overnight. So long as Mystery continued to look forward like he was doing now, he would eventually get there.

Just as Rumi once had.