Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first time Mira really noticed how attached Rumi was to Jinu—like, not just crush-level but soul-wrapped, “I’d jump into hell for him” attached—was over snacks.

Of all things.

The pent house was unusually quiet for a Friday night. No sparring, no supernatural drama, not even the chaotic energy of Bobby crashing through the front door with a demon head in a box. Just silence, neon reflections in the window, and the warm hum of domestic normalcy.

That was, until Derpy the tiger—Jinu’s bafflingly uncoordinated celestial tiger—knocked over the kitchen trash can again.

Mira, on her way to the couch with a bowl of popcorn, paused in the hallway and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold like it was peak Friday night entertainment.

Derpy stood there, tail flicking in shame, massive paw gently batting at the can. He gave a low chuff of frustration and bent down with the utmost concentration, trying to lift it with his teeth. His fangs scraped the rim. The lid clattered to the floor.

“You weird little guy,” Mira murmured with a smirk, stuffing a kernel of popcorn into her mouth. “I should help you, but honestly? I’m invested now. This is a character arc.”

She was so caught up in Derpy’s trash can saga that she didn’t notice the approaching footsteps until she felt a sharp jab in her side.

Mira flinched and looked down at a nervous Rumi, her long black nails still extended from the poke.

“Rumi,” she deadpanned, “you know how annoying poking is.”

The half-demon flinched. “Sorry. You weren’t responding.”

“Because Derpy was this close to victory.” Mira motioned to the tiger, who was now sitting triumphantly next to the upright trash can like he’d just won Olympic gold. “See? I believed in him.”

Rumi smiled faintly but said nothing, her hands twitching at her sides. She was wearing one of Jinu’s white tank tops, slightly oversized, and grey sweatpants with fraying hems. Her pale-blue demon scars glowed softly in the dim kitchen light, curling up her neck like elegant lightning veins. Now that she wasn’t hiding what she was—from Mira, Zoey, or Bobby—she looked more herself. Stronger. Softer.

Also: visibly, painfully in love.

Mira caught the way Rumi’s eyes kept flicking toward the door. As if she could will Jinu to appear by sheer thought.

Finally, Rumi spoke. “Do you happen to know where Jinu is?” she asked, voice casual—too casual.

Mira raised a brow. “He’s out with Zoey. Getting snacks. She made a list longer than the Dead Sea Scrolls. Said she couldn’t let a 400-year-old demon go another day without trying shrimp chips and Choco Pies.”

“Oh.” Rumi’s shoulders drooped just slightly.

Mira grinned and gave her arm a playful punch. “Relax, Juliet. Your demon Romeo will be back before the moon hits the second cloud.”

Rumi rubbed her arm. “Why are you so strong? That hurt.”

“Demon hunter gains,” Mira said with a wink as she finally plopped onto the infamous sunken couch—the one that had survived two apartment fires, a food invasion, and one of Bobby’s breakdowns.

Rumi stayed standing by the fridge, nervously opening and closing it like the answers to her anxiety were hidden behind the mustard jar.

Mira studied her. Something quiet had shifted in Rumi lately. Not just her scars or her wardrobe or even the confidence in her step—but the vulnerability she let seep through when Jinu wasn’t near. It was subtle, but to Mira’s trained eyes, it said everything.

“You okay?” Mira asked more gently now.

Rumi gave her a sheepish glance. “I’m sorry if I seemed weird. It’s just... ever since Jinu gave me his soul—” she touched her chest lightly “—I feel this... warmth when he’s near. Not like a heat, more like...” She paused. “Like home.”

Derpy made a soft huff and padded over to curl between the girls, as if on cue. His warm bulk pushed against Rumi’s leg, and she dropped her hand to scratch behind his ears.

Mira tilted her head. “That’s... kinda beautiful. Gross. But beautiful.”

Rumi laughed, a soft melodic sound. “He told me he used to believe love was a trap. Something mortals used to keep each other chained. But then he met me, and he said—” her cheeks flushed, “—he said I made him believe in freedom again.”

Mira whistled. “Okay, wow. That’s... some Wuthering Heights meets Underworld level intensity.”

Rumi sank onto the couch beside her, cheeks still pink, fingers tangled in Derpy’s blue fur. “I didn’t mean to fall so hard. But it’s like... when he’s around, the world doesn’t feel scary. I’ve fought monsters, gods, corporations... but nothing scared me like loving him.”

Mira leaned back and tilted her head toward the ceiling. “You ever wonder if we’re just side characters in a ridiculous supernatural romance novel?”

“All the time,” Rumi replied, smiling softly. “But if I’m in a novel, I’m glad he’s the co-lead.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the soft buzz of the refrigerator and Derpy’s snores the only sound. Then Mira perked up.

“I should write this all down,” she said. “A book. I’ll call it Demon Lovers and Snack Breaks. Think Huntrix fans would go nuts?”

“You’d be a bestseller,” Rumi said instantly. “Put me down for ten copies.”

Mira snorted. “You just want to see if I include the part where you tackled Jinu in the middle of battle because he got a paper cut.”

“That was blood magic, thank you very much,” Rumi said with mock offense.

The elevator dinged.

Zoey skipped in first, hoodie up, sunglasses on, arms empty. Jinu followed, face relaxed, holding at least six grocery bags in each hand like it was nothing. He moved gracefully despite the load, the casual strength in his form betraying the centuries of training and power beneath.

Before he even reached the kitchen counter, Rumi was on her feet and across the room like a shot.

She didn’t even say anything—just threw her arms around him.

Jinu barely flinched, just dropped the bags and caught her instinctively. His arms wrapped around her, one hand finding the small of her back, the other curling into her long purple hair.

“I missed you,” she whispered before he could ask.

“I missed you too, darling,” he murmured back, his voice so tender Mira almost gagged.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and just... held her. Not possessively. Not theatrically. Just held her like he’d been missing something vital and finally found it again.

Zoey wandered over to Mira and flopped beside her.

“So,” she said under her breath. “Was Rumi acting like her boyfriend sank with the Titanic?”

Mira nodded. “If she had a door, she’d shove him on it this time. And tie him down with snacks.”

Zoey laughed. “God, it’s gross. I love it.”

Mira watched the couple in the kitchen—Jinu brushing Rumi’s hair behind her ear, Rumi smiling with stars in her eyes.

It should’ve been too much. Too sappy.

But somehow... it wasn’t.

It was sweet.

Warm.

Normal, in the way only the weirdest supernatural relationships could be.

Jinu pulled out a strange-looking pastry and handed it to Rumi. “This one has mochi and cheese. I don’t understand it.”

“I’ll take the risk,” Rumi said, breaking it in half. She offered him a piece, and he ate it without hesitation. His eyes widened.

“This is... fantastic. How have I never had this?”

“I told you!” Zoey called from the couch.

As they unpacked the snacks together, Jinu never strayed far from Rumi’s side. He leaned into her warmth like she was gravity itself. And Rumi? She glowed—no magic needed. She laughed more, smiled easily, and let him wipe a smudge of mochi from her lips without even blushing.

Mira rested her chin in her hand, sighing dramatically.

Zoey nudged her. “So when’s this novel happening?”

“Soon,” Mira said. “Just as soon as I figure out how to not vomit every time they kiss.”

“Oh, come on,” Zoey smirked. “You love it.”

Mira looked toward the kitchen again. At Jinu lifting Rumi onto the counter like she weighed nothing, just so she could reach a high cabinet. At Rumi pecking his cheek mid-sentence. At the two of them giggling like teenagers in love.

Mira exhaled.

“Yeah,” she said. “I really do.”

Chapter Text

Rumi had been dreading this moment for two whole months.

It didn’t matter how many demons she’d faced, how close they’d come to annihilation during the battle with Gwi-ma, or how much her own body still ached from strengthening the Honmoon’s resonance. None of it compared to the anxiety twisting in her gut now.

Celine was back.

Her godmother. Her mentor. Her protector.

And standing in the middle of the Huntrix penthouse—arms crossed, brow creased in disappointment and fire behind her eyes—she looked like she hadn’t softened a bit since the day Rumi told her not to come around again.

Rumi rubbed the back of her neck, her patterns pulsing faintly beneath her skin—glowing with unease. “Thanks for coming,” she murmured. Her voice cracked halfway through the sentence, betraying the nerves she had desperately tried to bury.

“I didn’t come for pleasantries,” Celine said tightly. “I came because you stopped answering my messages for two months. Because you cut me off, Rumi. And I’ve spent every single day wondering what the hell I did wrong.”

Rumi winced.

That guilt—the guilt—had been gnawing at her since the defeat of Gwi-ma. In the aftermath, as the power of the Honmoon finally stabilized, she'd collapsed under the emotional weight of not just the battle… but the secrets.

After healing, she’d sat on the roof with Zoey and Mira late one night and finally poured it all out. About Jinu. About their secret meetings after demon-hunting missions. About the way her demon patterns would shimmer when Jinu held her hand. About the quiet, stolen kisses in the shadows of a post-battle world.

She’d expected judgment. But instead—

“Well,” Zoey had said, tossing her soda into the night air, “that explains why you’ve been glowing like a lava lamp.”

Mira just smirked. “We knew. We just didn’t know when you’d crack and spill it.”

Their support had meant everything. But now?

Now the person who didn’t know—should’ve known—was staring at her like she was a stranger.

“I needed time,” Rumi said, trying not to shake. “After Gwi-ma… I had to figure out what parts of me were mine and what parts were built from fear. And I realized I was still hiding from you. From myself.”

Celine frowned. “What does that mean?”

Before Rumi could answer, the elevator dinged.

The silver doors slid open.

“We’re back!” Zoey called cheerfully, stepping in with a bag of takeout. She immediately froze when she saw Celine.

“Oh,” she said. “Right. The Big Show started early.”

Mira stepped out behind her, arching a brow. “We were gonna give you another thirty minutes. Thought you’d be done with the crying and yelling by now.”

Jinu followed, his tall frame a calm contrast to the nervous energy buzzing in the room. He spotted Rumi instantly and gave her the kind of smile that always made her feel like the only person in the world. She exhaled, tension melting for just a second.

“You okay?” he asked softly, stepping close.

“Trying to be.”

He reached forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, a tender, instinctive gesture. Her demon patterns flared gently, that subtle flicker of warm gold across her skin like a sunbeam trying to break through a storm.

That’s when the second dagger flew.

THWIP.

THUNK.

The steel blade embedded itself in the wall just inches from Jinu’s temple.

Jinu flinched. Zoey gasped. Mira muttered, “Here we go.”

“Step away from her, you demon,” Celine snapped, pulling out a second dagger, her stance already shifting into combat form. “Or the next one won’t miss.”

“Celine!” Rumi shouted, instinctively stepping in front of Jinu, arms raised. “Don’t—please!”

“You’re protecting him?” Celine growled. “You’re actually standing between me and a demon who could turn on you at any moment?”

Zoey set the bag of food down slowly, her eyes wide as saucers. “This is better than any k-drama.”

“Shut up,” Mira whispered, though she didn’t look away for a second.

“Celine, he’s not going to hurt me,” Rumi said. Her voice shook, not with fear of Celine—but with the crushing pressure of old wounds. “He never has.”

Celine’s hands trembled, just barely. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

“I do,” Rumi insisted. “He’s a 400-year-old demon who used to be one of them. But he’s not anymore. Not since—”

“Since you fell in love with him?” Celine’s voice cracked like ice. “You think that makes him safe?”

Rumi turned, locking eyes with Jinu. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t look away. He looked at her like she was something sacred.

“I don’t think it makes him safe,” she whispered. “But it makes him mine.”

A beat of silence passed.

Zoey sniffled. “Okay, I didn’t expect that line to wreck me, but here we are.”

Mira pulled a blanket off the couch and wrapped it around herself like she was settling in for a long ride. “She’s been practicing that line, for sure.”

Jinu gently reached for Rumi’s hand. She let him take it, even as her patterns shimmered again from his touch. His voice was quiet, calm, but firm.

“I don’t expect you to trust me,” he said to Celine. “Frankly, I’d be more worried if you did. But I love her. And if it kills me, I’ll spend every breath I have proving that to you.”

“You don’t have to prove anything,” Rumi said softly, squeezing his hand.

Celine’s eyes glistened—not with tears, but with deep, soul-weary frustration.

“I held you when your mother died,” she said to Rumi. “I buried her. And I swore to her memory I would never let what happened to her happen to you. That I would protect you from them.”

“I’m not my mother,” Rumi said. “And I’m not human. I can’t keep pretending I am just to make the people I love feel better. I trust Jinu. I chose him.”

Celine stared at her for a long, painful moment. Then she exhaled sharply and lowered her dagger.

“Fine,” she said. “But I don’t like this.”

“Didn’t expect you to,” Rumi replied. “Just... I needed you to know.”

Celine gave a grudging nod. “You’ll tell me everything. When you’re ready.”

“I will,” Rumi promised. “There’s a lot I want to say. Not just about Jinu. About me. About my patterns. The Honmoon. Everything.”

“I’ll be watching you,” Celine said coldly to Jinu as she stepped into the elevator.

“I’d expect nothing less,” he replied with a respectful nod.

The elevator doors closed.

Jinu exhaled with a groan, running a hand through his hair. “That was… intense.”

“She almost murdered you,” Zoey pointed out, digging into the takeout. “Like, for real. That dagger was singing through the air.”

“She has excellent form,” Mira said admiringly. “Clean arc. Perfect throw. She’s terrifying.”

Jinu sat down on the couch, tugging Rumi with him. She collapsed beside him, emotionally drained and ready to sleep for a week.

“Remind me never to surprise her,” he mumbled.

“You won’t need to. She’s always two steps ahead,” Rumi muttered, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Did you want her to find out this way?” Mira asked with a teasing smirk. “Or were you hoping she’d figure it out after you got pregnant?”

Jinu choked. “She would absolutely kill me.”

“That was the plan,” Rumi said with a tired smirk.

His eyes widened. “Wait, what?!”

Zoey burst into laughter, nearly choking on a rice cake. “Oh my god, your face!”

Rumi groaned and buried her head in Jinu’s shoulder. “I hate everyone here.”

“Love you too,” Mira said, tossing her a pillow.

As the laughter settled, Rumi looked around at the penthouse. At the still-glowing patterns on her arms. At her best friends, lounging like the chaos never happened. At the demon beside her, whose fingers curled around hers like he was afraid to let go.

And despite the stress. Despite the fight. Despite the tension still humming under her skin—

She smiled.

Because she was exactly where she needed to be.

Chapter Text

The elevator chimed softly as it opened onto the private penthouse floor—Huntrix HQ, where Seoul’s most beloved idol group secretly trained and operated as elite demon hunters. The concert had ended just an hour ago, but their ears were still ringing with the echoes of fans chanting their names, and their bodies vibrated with the pulse of music and adrenaline.

As the automatic glass doors slid open, a warmth welcomed them—an unusual kind of warmth, not from magic wards or battle auras, but something softer. Homey.

The lights were dimmed to a cozy gold, and the soft instrumental of one of their older songs played in the background. The smell of something savory and spicy hit them all at once.

“Oh. My. God,” Zoey said, her voice reverent. “Is that... grilled bulgogi?”

“No way,” Mira murmured, tugging off her combat boots with a groan. “He went full boyfriend mode, didn’t he?”

Rumi paused at the doorway, her wide eyes blinking in confusion. Her short stage skirt fluttered slightly as she turned, lips parting. “Jinu?”

Before she could call out again, Jinu appeared from behind the kitchen island, wiping his hands with a dishtowel. His gray hoodie was loose and worn, the kind he only wore at home, and his black hair was pushed back slightly from his forehead, still damp from a recent shower. He looked so domestic it was unfair.

“Welcome back, queens,” he said with a grin, nodding to each of them before his eyes settled on Rumi. “Huntrix crushed it again.”

Rumi just stood there for a second, as if rebooting. “You... weren’t at the exit.”

Jinu’s smile faltered slightly, but only for a moment. “I know. I wanted this to be ready when you walked in.” He motioned to the spread on the kitchen island: bulgogi rice bowls with extra mushrooms for Zoey, Mira’s favorite kimchi jjigae still steaming, and for Rumi—a bowl of spicy seafood ramen, perfectly plated with soft-boiled eggs, crushed sesame, and just the right amount of green onion curls.

Zoey gave an exaggerated gasp. “She’s pouting. Look, look! Actual Rumi pout. Alert the media!”

Mira elbowed her. “It’s because someone wasn’t waiting at the backdoor like a knight with a bouquet of peonies.”

Zoey giggled, tossing her curly ponytail over her shoulder. “Honestly, I thought she was going to cry. She was like, ‘Where is he? Did he fall into a demon portal without telling me?’”

“I did not say that,” Rumi huffed, crossing her arms—but her lower lip was indeed jutting out, traitorous and pink.

“You said it with your eyes,” Mira deadpanned, pulling her chopsticks from the drawer like a seasoned warrior selecting a blade.

Jinu stepped forward, gently taking Rumi’s hand. “Rumi.”

She glanced up, still not speaking.

“I missed you too,” he said, voice softer now. “I was thinking about you the whole time I was setting this up. You know I wouldn’t skip out on greeting you unless it was for something important.”

“Important like instant ramen?” she muttered, barely looking at him.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I used real broth this time. Seaweed. Anchovy. The good stuff. I even peeled the eggs.”

She tried to stay mad, but her fingers curled into his hoodie, drawing herself closer. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

“I know,” he teased, grinning. “But I’m still sorry.”

“You better be,” she murmured, pressing her forehead to his chest.

Zoey nudged Mira. “She’s back to her natural habitat—clinging to Jinu like a particularly spoiled koala.”

Mira snorted into her jjigae. “Rumi when Jinu’s not around is like a WiFi signal with one bar.”

“I can hear you,” Rumi grumbled without looking away from Jinu’s hoodie.

“And we want you to,” Zoey called sweetly from the kitchen. “We live to mock you.”

“Okay, but food first, mocking later,” Mira announced.

The group migrated toward the island. Rumi didn’t stray far from Jinu, her hand wrapped around the hem of his hoodie like a security blanket. As they sat, laughter and the clink of chopsticks filled the penthouse. It was their first truly demon-free night in weeks.

Half an hour later, they were sprawled across the L-shaped couch in the living room, bellies full, makeup wiped off, hair tied back. A K-drama flickered on the screen, but none of them were really watching.

Zoey leaned her head on Mira’s shoulder. “Remember during rehearsals when Rumi tried to land that triple spin and face-planted into the stage light?”

“I will hex you, I swear,” Rumi muttered from the other end of the couch.

“She actually rolled over and said ‘Did I die?’ like it was a near-death experience,” Mira added with a grin.

Jinu, sitting beside Rumi with her legs across his lap, chuckled. “You were adorable. Like a stunned puppy.”

“I had glitter in my eyes and shame in my soul.”

“Yeah, but you got right back up,” he said, tracing circles on her knee. “That’s what made it impressive.”

Rumi looked up at him, half-annoyed, half-adoring. “Stop being so sweet. I’m trying to stay mad at you.”

“Oh no,” he said, feigning panic. “Is this your villain origin arc? Pouty girlfriend becomes world-destroying siren?”

“Too late,” Zoey mumbled. “She already is a siren.”

“She’s got the scream to match,” Mira added. “Heard it backstage when Jinu wasn’t there.”

Rumi blushed furiously, burying her face in a pillow. “I hate all of you.”

Jinu leaned down, brushing a kiss against her temple. “You love me, though.”

She peeked up at him. “...Yeah. I do.”

There was a quiet beat. Zoey made a gagging sound and threw popcorn in their direction.

Later that night

The girls had disappeared to their rooms, Mira with her K-pop makeup haul, and Zoey threatening to livestream herself trying on leather demon-hunting gear while sleep-deprived. Jinu and Rumi stayed behind in the living room, now lit only by the blue glow of the muted TV screen and the city lights from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Rumi sat with her back against the couch cushions, legs stretched out in front of her. Jinu lay beside her, head resting on her lap. She absentmindedly ran her fingers through his hair, and he hummed in contentment.

“I still can’t believe you peeled the eggs,” she said quietly, breaking the silence.

“I did it while watching an exorcism livestream. It was oddly relaxing.”

“Only you could mix demons and soup prep.”

“I contain multitudes.”

She smiled, watching the way his lashes fluttered every time she brushed his temple. “Did you mean it earlier? You thought about me the whole time?”

“Always,” he said, opening his eyes. “Rumi, I think about you even when I’m actively punching demons in the face.”

She laughed. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m serious,” he said, sitting up slightly to face her. “You’re not just my girl—you’re my calm. My reason.”

Her heart swelled, but she couldn’t let him have the last word. “And you’re the reason I still have trust issues with boys who own air fryers and strong jawlines.”

“Rude,” he gasped. “My jawline has done nothing but love you.”

She grinned and leaned in closer. “Prove it.”

He kissed her, gently at first, then with that slow-burning passion he only ever gave her. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was grounding. A promise in the shape of a kiss.

When they pulled apart, Rumi tucked her head under his chin, heart pounding but calm.

“You’re not allowed to skip post-show cuddles ever again,” she murmured.

“I’ll never make that mistake again, ma’am,” he replied solemnly. “Next time I’ll be there with a sign that says ‘Cling Here.’”

“You joke, but I would.”

“I know. I’ve already commissioned the sign.”

They stayed like that for a long time, the room quiet except for the hum of the city and their slow breathing in sync.

Zoey peeked out from her bedroom, catching Mira scrolling through her phone in the hallway.

“Hey,” she whispered. “You think they’ll finally just say the L-word already?”

Mira looked up. “She did. You didn’t hear it earlier? She said it all soft.”

“Ugh, I missed it?! That’s the one thing I wanted from tonight!”

“They’re disgustingly cute.”

“...I give it two days before we catch them slow dancing in the kitchen to a cursed love ballad.”

“Only if the demons don’t interrupt.”

The two shared a look.

Then laughed.

Rumi traced a small protective sigil along Jinu’s forearm with her finger, watching as it glowed faintly under her touch. “We were safe tonight,” she said. “No breaches. No cursed fans. No demon energy.”

“I know,” Jinu said. “It felt almost… normal.”

She nodded, eyes heavy. “Let’s have more nights like this.”

He kissed her forehead and whispered, “Every chance we get.”

Chapter Text

The rooftop of the Huntrix Pent House was unusually serene for a KPop group of girls who’d just banished a wind demon with a temper. A soft breeze combed through the herb garden and cherry blossom trees, petals floating like confetti in the dusky sky. Beneath a canopy of fairy lights, Mira and Zoey sipped on cold barley tea, their uniforms dusted with traces of salt from a purification circle gone sideways.

“Did she really cry?” Zoey asked, already smirking.

Mira, crouched by a low planter and tending to a scratch on her forearm, nodded toward the far side of the rooftop.

“Cried. Swooned. Nearly passed out,” she said dryly. “All because he got a paper cut.”

Zoey turned to look.

And there she was.

Rumi, the squad’s fiery half-demon combat specialist, known for drop-kicking wraiths twice her size and mocking Zoey’s love for cute stationery, was now curled beside Jinu like a traumatized kitten. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, her head buried in his shoulder, and her tail—normally tucked and elegant—twitched anxiously behind her.

“I can’t believe you were bleeding! I should’ve stopped you from opening that delivery box,” Rumi whispered, voice thick with guilt.

Jinu, ever the patient center of their team, sat cross-legged on the wooden deck, his hand gently stroking Rumi’s hair as if she were a startled deer.

“It was just the edge of the takeout menu, Ru,” he said soothingly. “I wasn’t even trying to be heroic this time.”

“But what if it had hit a vein? What if it got infected? What if—demonic tetanus?” she gasped.

Zoey almost choked on her tea. “Demonic. Tetanus.”

Mira side-eyed her. “Is that even a thing?”

“I hope it is now.”

They stood and walked over slowly, Mira crouching beside Jinu and Rumi while Zoey stayed standing, arms crossed, trying (and failing) to suppress her grin.

“Hey, Rumi,” Mira said gently. “He’s okay. You didn’t miss an arterial spray or anything.”

“That was the tiniest paper cut I’ve ever seen,” Zoey added. “Honestly, I’ve had worse from fan mail.”

Rumi didn’t budge. She tightened her arms around Jinu’s torso as if warding off a second attack by demonic stationery. “You two don’t get it. He got hurt. On my watch.”

“On your watch? Rumi, we were ordering food,” Zoey said. “The only thing being hunted was chicken wings.”

Jinu chuckled softly, his hand still in her hair. “They were delicious, though.”

Rumi finally lifted her head, red eyes glassy with emotion and glowing faintly. Her demon heritage flared strongest when she was overwhelmed—and tonight, she was on full alert.

“You bled, Jinu,” she whispered, sounding as if he’d just returned from a war zone instead of an encounter with spicy tteokbokki and a rebellious pamphlet.

“Ru,” he said softly, “I’ve had worse injuries in makeup practice.”

“That doesn’t matter!” she said, clutching the hand with the bandage as if cradling something sacred. “What if you bled out before I could stop it? What if I lost you?”

Zoey clutched her chest theatrically. “Mira, hold me. I’m getting emotional.”

Mira deadpanned. “You say that every time a boy makes eye contact with you.”

“He was BLEEDING, Mira.”

“I know. You yelled it across the rooftop.”

“I screamed it, Mira.”

“Your echo scared the mailman.”

Rumi gave them both a dramatic glare, but didn’t let go of Jinu’s hand. She kept touching the tiny bandage like it held dark secrets.

“I’ve been hunting demons since I was thirteen,” she said, eyes serious. “I’ve seen exorcists lose limbs, watched ghouls gnaw through chains, and fought through ten-minute dance solos in heels. But nothing—and I mean nothing—has prepared me for this pain.”

Zoey raised her eyebrows. “So... it’s worse than the time you broke your tailbone exorcising that river spirit?”

“Yes.”

“Worse than the demon ghost dog that bit you?”

“Worse.”

Mira looked at her in disbelief. “Worse than the time you got food poisoning from the vending machine sushi?”

Rumi turned to Jinu solemnly. “Tell them. Tell them this is different.”

Jinu, still cradling her affectionately in his lap, just smiled. “I think Rumi’s feelings are valid.”

Zoey pointed at him. “You’re too good for this world.”

“Probably,” Mira muttered. “Definitely too good for this rooftop.”

Suddenly, Rumi jumped to her feet, tugging Jinu with her. “You need rest. Ice packs. Compression. Maybe a healing charm? I’ve got some of those herbal patches somewhere in the dorm—don’t move!”

She disappeared into the building like a blur, tail swishing behind her with manic determination.

Jinu sighed, sitting on the bench now, his hand still raised like she was still holding it. “She’s been like this since the paper cut happened. I tried hiding it, but she smelled the blood.”

“She smelled it?” Zoey blinked. “Okay, that’s kind of romantic and gross.”

Mira sat beside him. “You’re taking this... surprisingly well.”

“She’s half-demon. When someone she cares about gets hurt—even a little—it hits her hard. It’s instinct.”

“And you’re just... okay with being smothered like a stress plushie?”

Jinu smiled fondly. “I don’t mind. It means she loves me.”

There was a pause.

Zoey blinked. “Wait—love you?”

Mira stared. “You know?”

“I’ve always known,” he said softly, still smiling. “She’s never been good at hiding her feelings.”

“No kidding,” Zoey muttered, watching as Rumi returned with an armload of supplies: heat pads, cooling balm, a unicorn bandage pack, and at least three herbal scrolls.

Rumi dropped to her knees in front of Jinu and ripped open a balm tube.

“I found one with ginseng and red spider lily extract—it helps with demonic inflammation. Just in case.”

“Rumi, sweetheart,” Jinu said, voice tender, “it’s a paper cut.”

“Exactly! That’s how they start! One minute, you’re fine. The next, your hand is cursed, and you’re slowly turning into a tree.”

Mira coughed, trying not to laugh.

Zoey whispered to her, “This is better than reality shows.”

“Better than the last hunt, too.”

Once Rumi finally applied every balm, charm, and possibly unnecessary kiss to the bandaged hand, she sighed and sat beside him, looking genuinely exhausted.

“I’m sorry I freaked out,” she said quietly.

Jinu reached over and brushed a stray cherry blossom petal from her horn. “It’s okay. I like how much you care. Even if it’s... intense.”

“I just—when you’re hurt, even a little, it makes me feel like the world’s about to fall apart.”

Jinu pulled her gently into a hug, arms wrapping around her in a soft squeeze. “Then let’s keep holding it together. Even through paper cuts.”

Zoey made a mocking gag noise behind them. Mira just smirked and leaned back against the bench.

“You know,” Zoey said, “I got a splinter once. No one cared.”

“You told us after the hunt, Zoey.”

“I suffered in silence, Mira.”

Mira rolled her eyes. “You texted us in all caps with thirty crying emojis.”

“See? Silence.”

Jinu and Rumi ignored them, lost in their own quiet moment. Her head rested on his shoulder now, and the tail that had been thrashing earlier now curled gently around one of his legs. She looked calm for the first time all evening.

“So,” Zoey said louder, tapping her chin. “What’ll happen if he gets a papercut on both hands?”

“Don’t joke like that!” Rumi snapped, eyes wide again.

Mira held up her hands in defense. “Okay, okay, let’s not send her into cardiac arrest.”

Jinu laughed quietly. “Maybe we just switch to digital menus from now on.”

Rumi turned to him, eyes sparkling. “That’s why you’re the best leader.”

“I thought it was my choreography,” he teased.

“That, too,” she whispered, and kissed his cheek.

Zoey and Mira groaned in unison.

“Can we go back to fighting demons?” Zoey asked. “This is getting too mushy.”

Mira stood. “Yeah. Let’s go find a haunted printer or something. Maybe it’ll papercut me this time.”

Zoey slapped her back playfully. “A girl can dream.”

As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the rooftop lit up in soft yellows and warm purples, casting a peaceful glow on the four of them. Even if demons waited below, for now, the only crisis had been a tiny paper cut and a big, clingy heart.

Chapter Text

The cityscape of Seoul stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Huntrix penthouse, lit with the soft glow of twilight. The usual hum of activity—the occasional buzz of a demon-sensing orb or a practice track playing over the speakers—was missing. Instead, there was a thick, anxious silence blanketing the luxurious space.

Rumi sat perched at the edge of the plush sectional, hands clasped in her lap so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Her heart thudded in her chest—not from the thrill of a live performance or a battle against an underworld creature—but from something far scarier.

This time, it was love. And all its terrifying vulnerabilities.

Jinu sat beside her, close but giving her just enough space to breathe. He watched her carefully, his fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and soothe her. She looked beautiful even in her worry—soft purple waves falling around her face, eyes flickering like candlelight with every new thought that passed through her mind.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she whispered, barely audible.

Jinu tilted his head slightly. “Doing what, love?”

Rumi looked up, biting her bottom lip, then dropping her gaze again. “Going public. With us. With this.” She lifted their clasped hands slightly before letting them drop into her lap again. “What if this ruins everything?”

Jinu scooted closer, closing the space between them until their shoulders touched. His voice was low and steady. “It’s not going to ruin anything.”

“You don’t know that,” she said quickly, her voice cracking on the last word. “Fans… fans can be brutal, Jinu. One wrong move, one thing they don’t like, and suddenly you're the villain. I’ve seen it happen. What if they turn on me? Or worse—what if they turn on you? You’re already so beloved. I don’t want to be the reason that changes.”

He reached for her hands, gently prying her fingers apart and threading his own through them. “Hey.” His thumb brushed slow, calming circles across her knuckles. “You are not a mistake. You’re not a liability. You’re my girlfriend. And I’m proud of that.”

Rumi’s throat tightened, and she blinked fast, trying to hold back the wave of emotions pressing against her chest. “But what if it all goes wrong?” she said, her voice trembling. “I don’t want to lose you, Jinu.”

“You’re not going to,” he said softly, cupping her cheek. “Even if the whole world flips upside down. Even if fans throw glowsticks at me on stage—I’d still choose you, every time.”

Rumi gave a shaky laugh. “Glowsticks, really?”

“I mean, they do hurt if thrown with enough force,” he said playfully, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. “But I’ll dodge them. For you.”

A small smile curved her lips, and for a moment, the worry ebbed.

Across the room, Zoey leaned against the kitchen island, sipping an energy drink and watching them with a soft smile. Mira was sprawled on the beanbag in front of the giant flatscreen, flipping through social media with one eye on the couple.

“Okay, I’m just going to say it,” Mira piped up. “You guys are literally the least problematic couple I’ve ever seen. Like, are we seriously expecting people to hate two hot demon-hunters who saved K-pop and fell in love doing it?”

Zoey raised a finger. “Especially when one of them is the queen of aura-weaving and the other is a cinnamon roll with abs. No way fans won’t eat this up.”

Rumi let out a deep breath, the tension in her shoulders beginning to ease. She glanced at Mira and Zoey, their eyes kind and steady.

“You really think it’ll be okay?” she asked.

Zoey crossed the room and plopped down beside her. “I know it will be. And if anyone comes at you with hate, they’ll have to go through me first. And I throw real glowsticks.”

Mira smirked. “Don’t test Zoey. She’s got arm strength like a catapult.”

Jinu chuckled and wrapped his arm around Rumi’s waist, pulling her gently against his side. She nestled into him instinctively, head resting against his shoulder. His fingers played lightly with the hem of her hoodie, grounding her.

“I know it’s scary,” he murmured. “But we don’t have to hide anymore. We’ve already fought through so much together. Don’t let fear steal this from us.”

“I don’t want to,” Rumi whispered. “I just want to protect what we have.”

“And we will,” he promised, planting a kiss to the top of her head. “Together.”

Just then, Zoey’s phone buzzed. Everyone froze.

“It’s Bobby,” she said, eyes widening. “The announcement’s live.”

Mira bolted upright, already grabbing her tablet. “Checking the fan pages—hold up!”

Rumi’s pulse spiked as she sat up, heart hammering. Jinu kept an arm around her, anchoring her to the present.

Mira opened the shared Saja Boys x Huntrix page on her screen. There, bold and beautiful, was a candid black-and-white photo of Jinu and Rumi from the Idol Awards after-party. She was laughing at something, and Jinu was gazing at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

Caption:
“Love forged in fire. Two hearts, one fight. #Rujinu #HuntrixHearts #SajaBoysSupportLove”

For a moment, no one breathed.

Then Mira gasped. “Guys… it’s blowing up. Like—fast.”

Zoey leaned over the couch to see. “No way.”

Mira began reading the comments, her voice rising with excitement. “OMG #Rujinu is canon?? My heart!! — Finally!!! They were so obvious at the Awards 😭 — Rumi deserves the world and Jinu IS the world — I’m not crying you’re crying — Gwi-ma who? We only know Rujinu now.”

Rumi blinked, mouth falling open slightly. Her chest ached with relief so intense it felt like a release. Her fingers flew to cover her lips as tears welled in her eyes.

“It’s… they’re happy?” she asked, almost afraid to believe it.

Mira turned the screen so she could see the endless scroll of fanart, gif edits, and hashtags trending within minutes: #Rujinu, #KpopCoupleGoals, #DemonHuntersInLove.

Zoey threw both arms in the air. “You guys have a ship name trending top five worldwide! That’s more than I ever got with my ex and we literally saved Busan from a lava wyrm!”

Jinu turned to Rumi, his expression tender. “Told you. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Rumi’s bottom lip trembled as the tears she’d tried to suppress finally spilled over. She laughed and cried at once, burying her face in his chest.

He wrapped both arms around her, holding her close. “Hey, hey… it’s okay. Happy tears?”

She nodded against him, voice muffled. “I was so scared.”

“I know,” he whispered, stroking her back. “But look. You’re safe. We’re safe.”

Zoey handed her a tissue box without a word, patting her gently on the knee. Mira offered her a side hug, sandwiching her between support and love.

Rumi sniffled and looked up at all of them—Jinu, Mira, Zoey. Her people. Her family.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For believing in me… in us.”

Jinu leaned down and kissed the corner of her mouth, then her nose, then finally her lips—gentle and slow. The kind of kiss that said we made it.

“I love you, Rumi,” he said softly, for her ears only.

She beamed through her tears. “I love you too, Jinu.”

Zoey groaned dramatically. “Ugh, stop being so cute. I’m going to melt.”

Mira was already posting a selfie with them, captioned: “Two demon-hunters fall in love and my emotions aren't ready. #SupportiveRoommateLife”

Rumi pulled away just slightly to look up at Jinu again. “So… you don’t think this changes anything?”

“I think it changes everything,” he said with a warm smile. “But only in the best way.”

Their foreheads touched, the world falling away around them for a moment.

As the night wore on, Mira and Zoey set up celebratory snacks in the kitchen—candles, mochi, neon soda, and cookies shaped like crescent moons and little demon sigils (ironically adorable).

Rumi and Jinu curled up together on the couch, tangled in each other’s arms, scrolling through fan tweets and laughing at dramatic fanfiction already being written about their “secret training kisses.”

One tweet read: “Y’all remember that battle in Tokyo where Rumi nearly fell off the tower and Jinu caught her mid-air? THAT WAS LOVE!!!”

Rumi looked at Jinu with a smirk. “I mean, you did catch me.”

He laughed. “And I’d do it again.”

She poked his chest. “Because of love?”

He grinned. “Because of abs. But mostly love.”

She giggled and tucked herself under his chin, heart finally at peace.

Outside, the city sparkled. Inside, love glowed even brighter.

Chapter Text

The elevator ride down from the rooftop of the SkyGarden felt like floating.

Rumi kept glancing down at her hand, eyes glimmering with disbelief. The delicate, rose gold ring with a moonstone center shimmered under the soft hallway lights as the elevator doors opened. Her fingers tightened around Jinu’s.

“I still can’t believe it,” she whispered, practically glowing.

Jinu smiled, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “You said yes. That’s what matters.”

She turned to him, eyes soft with affection. “Of course I said yes. You’re my everything.”

He looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself — half overjoyed, half overwhelmed. But he held her hand tighter as they stepped into the apartment.

Inside, the familiar scent of citrus diffuser oil and someone’s leftover ramen greeted them. The lights were dimmed, the cozy twinkle-string bulbs along the ceiling humming softly. Zoey was lounging on the living room couch in her favorite grey hoodie with a tiger on the back, socked feet up, one leg over the armrest, eyes glued to her phone. Mira was perched on the kitchen counter, stylish as ever in her high-waisted jeans and a black cropped jacket, sipping a pearl milk tea she definitely didn’t offer to share.

They both looked up at the same time — and screamed.

“OH MY GOD!” Mira nearly launched her drink as she rushed toward Rumi. “Is that it? Let me see!”

“Yah, don’t yank her hand off!” Zoey scolded, tossing her phone aside and hopping over the back of the couch. “But also— SHOW US!!”

Rumi giggled as she raised her left hand, and both girls practically pounced.

“It’s so perfect!” Mira gushed, turning Rumi’s hand in the light. “Jinu! You actually listened!”

Jinu stood awkwardly in the doorway, smiling nervously, cheeks dusted red. “I—I asked for your help, remember?”

“Oh, we remember,” Zoey said with a mischievous gleam. “You were very specific.”

Mira smirked. “We were sworn to secrecy.”

Rumi looked between them, curious. “Wait. You two helped pick it out?”

“Yup!” Mira said proudly. “We sent him like a dozen styles, but he chose this one because it ‘felt the most like Rumi.’ His words.”

“Awwww,” Rumi said, turning to Jinu, who was already trying to hide behind a houseplant. “That’s so sweet!”

“Also,” Zoey added, arms crossed with a sly smile, “he was super motivated after our last interview.”

“Which one?” Rumi asked.

Mira grinned like a wolf. “The one with RE:VOLT.”

“You mean the band with that ridiculous shirtless dance shoot?”

“Oh, that’s the one,” Zoey chimed in. “Main dancer had abs for days. Jinu watched the footage and looked like he was about to exorcise the entire monitor.”

“Zoey!” Jinu gasped, nearly tripping on the carpet. “Don’t tell her that!”

Too late.

Rumi turned to him, eyes wide and shining. “Wait, you were jealous?”

Jinu looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him. “I mean… not jealous jealous. Just—observationally concerned.”

Mira lost it. “Observationally concerned?! You literally went on a solo demon hunt the next night. You punched a phantom in the face! And you don’t even have fire magic!”

Zoey added, “And then you kept asking me if I thought that guy’s body was ‘unnaturally defined,’ like maybe he was possessed or cursed or something.”

“I thought he was too symmetrical!” Jinu argued defensively. “That’s suspicious in our line of work!”

Rumi couldn’t hold it anymore — she burst out laughing, grabbing Jinu’s hand and pulling him close. “You seriously got jealous of a shirtless idol? You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever seen!”

Jinu blushed deeper, flustered but clearly delighted.

“I think it’s hot,” Rumi added, looking up at him with a spark in her eye.

Now he was the one nearly fainting.

Zoey leaned toward Mira and whispered, “They’re going to celebrate in her room, aren't they?”

Mira snorted. “Door locked. Probably won’t come out for a week.”

“I heard that!” Jinu called out without looking at them.

Rumi laughed and looped her arm through his. “Don’t worry, I love that you care. Honestly, I’ve never felt so… special.”

“You are special,” Jinu said gently, his thumb brushing her knuckles. “You’ve always been my anchor. Even before Gwi-ma, before the Idol Awards… I knew there was something about you.”

Mira grabbed a couch pillow and hugged it. “This is literally better than any K-drama.”

Zoey flopped dramatically into the couch. “Seriously. If I wasn’t so emotionally constipated, I’d be crying right now.”

“You cried during that toothpaste commercial last week,” Mira pointed out.

“That dog’s tail wagged so hard, okay?!”

Everyone laughed.

Rumi sat down beside Zoey, pulling Jinu along with her. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he draped an arm around her instinctively, like they’d done it a hundred times before. Comfortable. Connected. Unshakeable.

“I can’t believe I get to marry you,” Rumi said softly.

Jinu’s eyes met hers, so full of love it was almost painful to look at.

“I can’t believe you said yes.”

Mira, who had grabbed the wedding planning journal she kept “just in case,” waved it excitedly. “Okay, okay, now that we’ve gotten through the sappy part — it’s time for business. Wedding prep!”

Rumi laughed. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

“I was born for this,” Mira said proudly. “Florals, venue scouting, outfit concepts — battle-ready and ceremony-chic.”

Zoey added, “We already decided on bodyguard rotation schedules in case any low-tier demons try to crash.”

Jinu blinked. “That’s… thoughtful?”

“Also, I am absolutely singing at the wedding,” Mira declared.

“Only if I get to rap,” Zoey added.

“Only if you don’t bring up shirtless idols mid-vows,” Jinu said flatly.

“No promises,” Zoey replied.

As they laughed and teased, the apartment felt like the center of the world. No demons. No cursed objects. No dark alley brawls or warding sigils or late-night emergency patrols. Just four friends, curled up on mismatched furniture, glowing in the aftermath of something real.

Later, after Mira and Zoey had wandered to the kitchen to grab celebratory ice cream and argue over cake flavors, Rumi and Jinu stayed on the couch. She curled into him, her head resting in the crook of his neck.

“You really did all this for me?” she whispered. “The planning, the ring, even the jealousy?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Of course. I don’t want you to ever doubt how much I love you.”

“I never do,” she said quietly. “Not for a second.”

His hand found hers again, fingers interlacing.

“I’m not perfect,” he murmured. “I’m awkward, I overthink, I get weirdly possessive around shirtless idols—”

She laughed again, a sweet sound.

“—but I promise, Rumi, I’ll spend every day making sure you feel as loved as you make me feel.”

Her heart ached in the best way.

“I’m so lucky,” she whispered.

“So am I.”

They sat like that for a long time, lost in each other, surrounded by warm lights and the low buzz of friendship in the kitchen.

Eventually, Zoey called out, “Okay, lovebirds! Ice cream or romantic exile?”

“We’ll take both!” Rumi called back, laughing.

Jinu looked at her. “Locked door?”

“Definitely locked door.”

He grinned as he immediately picked her up bridal style and quickly going down the hall to their bedroom to celebrate their engagement with the door locked.