Chapter Text
The village was on fire, transcending its burning red and orange flames and bleeding into the honmoon, its once silvery-blue strands frayed and ignited in a strikingly beautiful magenta blaze. Villagers could not see the tears, but their concerns lay in the actual fires that consumed their houses, their crops, their animals.
Children wailed in their mothers’ arms, men suffocated on smoke as they tossed buckets of water on their houses. An elderly man stared in devastated silence as he watched all he’d built and worked his hands to the bone to reduced to embers. A kneeling shaman rolled her sacred beads between her hands, bowing over and over again, sobbing and begging the gods to please spare her people and their homes. A four year old child wandered aimlessly, covered in soot, clutching his pet cat’s collar; the bell jingled dully, uselessly.
Gaeul watched from the hill, her stoic face bathed in the flames’ many colors. She ignored the stabbing pain in her arm, the wound bleeding into her torn hanbok sleeve.
“Gaeul!”
Gaeul straightened up. She turned, glancing over her shoulder at her two former friends with dull black eyes. Like her, their once dazzling robes and garbs were dirtied and ripped, faces bruised and bloodied, immaculate hair falling out of buns and braids. Hardly the pristine, untouchable image they should be projecting for their ward.
“You…” Bora’s lips quivered, tears in her bloodshot eyes. The ssangdo pointed at Gaeul trembled in her hands. “Why… why did you do this, Gaeul!”
Na-bi hissed, nocking a glowing arrow. “How could you betray everything we’ve ever stood for? Turn your backs on the people who needed you the most? On us?” she yelled.
Gaeul turned, a drop of blood falling from her hand. She drew her fingers to her face, materializing her daegeum to her lips. “How?” She thought for a moment, trying to find an answer suitable enough for her furious and heartbroken sisters.
Then again, they knew why. She’d told them multiple times in the past, but they always told her she was wrong, scoffed and ignored her. It didn’t matter now.
“Easily,” Gaeul replied instead. The two hunters gasped as she blew a soft note into the flute. From severing threads appeared two bulgasari, their once brilliant golden eyes a corrupted red, lifting their trunks to show their bared fangs and tusks.
Gaeul played another note. Na-bi and Bora screamed, one charging, the other firing an arrow. The bulgasari roared and pounced.
—
The bloated mul gwishin let out a furious roar, lunging at Mira with its black claws. Mira brought up her gok-do, only for Rumi’s glimmering blade to slide past her shoulder and lop the demon’s head clean off. Both the body and disembodied head disappeared in flashes of light and smoke.
Mira turned around, lips pursed. “I had it, y’know,” she said.
Rumi smirked. “I owed you one.”
Mira chuckled and shook her head.
Another explosion of light, and Zoey leaped through the space where the mul gwishin had once stood. “Yeah!” she laughed. “I got the last one!”
Rumi and Mira reeled back, appalled.
“Wha? But that one wasn’t here a moment ago! It just showed up!” Rumi insisted.
“Yeah,” Mira huffed, arms akimbo, “it just popped in, so it doesn’t count.”
“It totally counts!” Zoey whined. “Doesn’t matter if it was late to the fight, it was the last one and I got ‘em. Sooo…” Her grin was manic and all pearly teeth. “You know what that meaaaans…”
Rumi groaned as Mira threw herself back with a monotone “noooo”.
—
Zoey slapped a large amount of won on the counter. “Three of each!” she declared.
The vendor jumped back, surprised. “Uh… You want…” He weakly waved a hand over the display of various bungeoppang in front of him. “... Each?”
“Red bean mackerel! Custard yellow croaker! Apple cinnamon salmon! Chocolate cod! Blueberry belfish!”
Rumi waved slightly, smiling awkwardly. “Cheesy goldfish for me, please.”
“Kimchi koi,” Mira grumped, arms folded.
Zoey grabbed the vendor by the front of his apron, yanking him forward so he was close enough to see the hungry flames in her eyes. “Three! Of! Each!”
“O-Okay,” the vendor gulped, raising his hands, “th-three of each.”
Zoey cheered, bouncing and clapping as she watched the vendor quickly gather up their massive order.
“I really, really wanted endless sushi tonight,” Rumi moaned.
“At least I’ll get kimchi in some form,” Mira grunted.
“Guys! It’s been so long since we last had bungeoppang,” Zoey exclaimed. She twirled, blushing. “We’re gonna get soooo sick and throw up all night! It’s gonna be so rad–ah!” She stopped, jamming her face and hands against the glass display, fogging it up. “No, no! That croaker’s tail fin is too small! Don’t cheat me out of extra creamy custard, ajeossi!”
Rumi hiked her hood up over her head as a biker peeled by. “Zoey, chill, you’re gonna draw attention.” Although… “You know,” she said, curious, “this is the first fight we’ve had since… Well, since the Saja Boys’ retirement concert.” She coughed into her fist.
“Yeah,” Mira agreed, furrowing her brows. “Must be the new honmoon. It’s not golden, but given how it was rebuilt–”
Zoey fisted two bags full of bungeoppang, one stuffed in her mouth. “Fwom pohwa of fwendshup an wuff!” She bit down hard, shooting a dollop of jam from the fish’s rear end.
Rumi held up her hand to block her face, the blueberry splattering against her palm.
“--it must be much stronger than the old one,” Mira finished. She took two more bags from the startled vendor. “According to Celine, when the first honmoon was created it sealed off entry for demons for months. That, or Gwi-ma’s eating all his followers.”
“Dithcuthing!” Zoey gagged, spitting up crumbs.
Rumi winced at the mention of Celine. “Yeah. That’s probably it…” She bowed her head, shoving at least four more bags into their backpack.
Mira and Zoey sensed her discomfort.
“Have you spoken to Celine?” Mira asked carefully. “So far she’s only been talking through Bobby, but maybe she texted you or something?”
Zoey gulped down her pastry. “Yeah, like, have you guys spoken over the phone?”
Rumi sadly shook her head. “No phone calls,” she admitted. She drew a line of jam over one of her patterns. “I did send her a text and she responded, but it was short and only about business…”
“No apology? Nothing?” Mira sighed.
“She was in the wrong,” Zoey said, “but… She must be going through a lot too.” She looked at Rumi, taking out a salmon shaped pastry. “She’s still on Jeju, yeah? Bobby said she’d be back in the office next week. Talking to her face to face is better than a phone call, after all.”
Rumi nodded. “I… want to apologize, but only for the fact it took all of what happened to finally set us both free,” she explained. “I tell myself I’ve forgiven her, and that I understand she, too, was forced to follow those unforgiving and rigid rules, but… I don’t know.”
“You’re still upset,” Mira said, squeezing Rumi’s shoulder, “and that’s okay.”
“Don’t worry about it, things’ll work out,” Zoey reassured, beaming. “They always do! And just as the honmoon is stronger, so is our bond as hunters and sisters and BFFLs!” She threw her arms over Mira and Rumi’s shoulders, bringing them in close.
Mira snorted, a little misty-eyed. “Ugh, so cheesy.” She gently punched Rumi in the arm. “But you’ve got us, and we got you.”
Rumi laughed. “Thanks, guys,” she said, “it means a lot.” She tore off the head of Zoey’s bungeoppang, earning a horrified gasp. “Anyway, at least we didn’t have to worry about the aftermath.” She popped the head in her mouth with a satisfied hum.
“‘What a PR nightmare!’” Zoey shouted, imitating Bobby. The girls giggled. “It does feel a bit creepy, though, the honmoon manipulating so many memories.” She wrinkled her nose. “I never really thought about it in the past, ‘cause we never had such a big fight. Especially with the Bleeghhh Lord himself.”
“The ‘one hit wonder’ Saja Boys breaking up and each member splitting to the ends of the earth to ‘find themselves’ in seclusion is kinda hilarious, though.”
“I’d give anything to have some sort of photo of them as bald-headed monks crying underneath a waterfall over their sins…”
Rumi nibbled on her pastry, eyes downcast. “Yeah.”
Zoey and Mira stiffened. “Sorry, Rumi,” Zoey apologized quietly.
Rumi forced a smile, the patterns on her face faintly glowing. “It’s fine. Jinu was set free in the end,” she said. She stopped, peering up at the cloudless sky and its countless stars. “He’s finally able to rest in peace. And even though he’s gone, sometimes it feels like he’s still here…” She touched her sleeved wrist. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Like a ghost?” Zoey whispered, uneasy. Mira slapped her on the back.
“No,” Rumi replied, unbothered, “more like… just this feeling.” She blushed. “Almost like… like a warm hug.”
“Aww!” Mira and Zoey cooed in unison, both sniffling and teary eyed. “Rumi is so cuuuute!”
Rumi smiled lopsidedly, puffing out her chest. “Well, I am the cutes–ehh!” She squeaked as she tripped on a crack in the sidewalk, arms pinwheeling as she fell forward. Zoey and Mira each took an arm before her face hit the pavement. “I guess I deserved that…”
—
Upon returning to their flat, the girls chatted a while as they pounded down the many bungeoppang, spicy chips, and a twelve pack of lemon lime Milkis. They discussed their new album, the latest gossip, fan meet-ups, then settled down to watch the recent episode of Zoey’s favorite drama, Mister Prince’s Demonic Charm.
After all, tomorrow they’d be locked in work mode for the rest of the month.
“First up on the schedule,” Mira said, scrolling on her phone, “meeting the backup dancers Bobby hired.”
“Right,” Rumi replied, looking at Zoey spread starfish out on the floor, “but you said you can’t make it, Zoey?”
Zoey wept into her plump dragon plush. “Aagghhh, why does the Prince need to keep breaking Miss Princess’s heart? Stupid gorgeous gaslighting jerkward!” She dropped her face into the carpet, wailing muffled.
“Yeaaah,” Mira said, eyebrow cocked, “she’s stopping by her gram’s tomorrow.”
“Oh, right, it’s her birthday!”
Mira poked Zoey with her foot. “I know your halmoni lives by that crackpot doctor,” she scowled, “don’t even think of going to his clinic and wasting money on his fake crap!”
Zoey responded with a soggy, stifled “aagghuub”.
Rumi stood, poised and proper, clearing her throat. “Starting tomorrow,” she said, taking a deep breath, “we put all our energy into our work for next month’s concert. We keep our heads in the game, our hearts full and eyes open, and only break to eat, drink, maaaybe go on a shopping spree, sleep, and fight demons!” Her eyes lit up with stars. “This is gonna be the ultimate comeback concert of all comeback concerts ever!”
Mira pumped her fist, snarling and exclaiming, “Yeaaaah!”
“Aauughhooo!” Zoey cried.
“To the new honmoon! To us! To the fans!” Rumi cheered, raising her soda can.
“Damn right!”
“Weehh!”
Mira and Rumi slammed their cans together in a toast, Zoey raising hers up a second later to join. With another cheer, they chugged their drinks, Zoey spilling most of hers on the cute plush she was still crying in. Rumi and Mira both forced her up onto her feet, pulling each other in a hug as they danced in a circle.
The girls would spend a half hour in their bathrooms vomiting.
Mira collapsed on the couch en route to the kitchen for water. Zoey decided to sleep in the tub, curling up in the blue shower curtain with a large loofah for a pillow.
Rumi groaned as she dragged herself to bed, toothbrush falling from her mouth. Her stomach had finally settled. She crawled into bed, pulling her quilt up to her chin. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and drifted–
Warm, soft, a hand brushing a lock of hair behind her ear
Rumi gasped and bolted upright, wide eyes scanning the room, her patterns casting a pale glow. She felt her cheek, breathing heavily. She swore someone had just touched her, caressed her. She looked at her hand, then at the blue bracelet on her wrist below it.
Rumi blinked. “Jinu…?”
Maybe…?
Rumi exhaled as she flopped back in bed. She stared at the glowing stars stuck to her ceiling, then to the stars outside her balcony door. Eyes heavy, she finally fell asleep, vaguely aware of the lingering warmth nearby.
—
Celine gasped, leaping back just in time to avoid the swinging claws of the massive, one-eyed demon. She flipped over the demon’s head, landing elegantly behind it; with a graceful spin, she dove, crisscrossing her sickle blades as she cut a large X right through the cycloptic creature. It disappeared with a painful yelp.
Celine wasted no time, darting forward, fast as wind to her teammate’s side. “Mi-yeong!” she cried.
Mi-yeong grunted, just barely holding a demon back with her blade. “C-Celine, be c-careful!”
Celine leaped into the air with a battle cry; the demon looked back, surprised. Mi-yeong quickly pushed herself free, raised her blade, and both sickles and samingeom cut the monster into several pieces.
“Are you okay?” Celine asked, taking Mi-yeong’s arm. “I told you, if you’re sick, you need–”
Nana drove her fists into either sides of the demon’s head; it popped into red mist alongside the rest of its body. “That’s the last one!” she called down from the rooftop, shaking off her glimmering gloves.
Mi-yeong sighed, leaning against a streetlight.
Celine narrowed her eyes. “You should have been more careful,” she said firmly.
“I was,” Mi-yeong insisted obstinately. “Besides, it’s not like you would’ve let me stay behind and rest up.”
Celine scoffed. “You really think I would force you into battle?” She was hurt. “I didn’t want you to come in the first place, not when you’re ill.”
“But you would’ve been mad if I stayed. Even if you’d say you weren’t, you and I both know you’d be disappointed.”
“Aigoo!” Nana groaned, floating down to the street. She slapped each girl on their shoulders. “Arguing after victory? C’mon, you two!”
“I wouldn’t have been mad…” Celine mumbled, looking away.
Mi-yeong frowned, suddenly feeling guilty. “I’m sorry… You’re right.”
“It doesn’t matter now! The demons are gone, and we won!” Nana waved her arms in the air, beaming. “Now we celebrate! Soju soju so–”
Mi-yeong coughed.
Nana instantly deflated. “Right. You’re no longer drinking.” She gave Mi-yeong her best puppy dog eyes. “Not even one little drink to celebrate us slaughtering hellspawn? Pwease?”
Mi-yeong chuckled tiredly. “Sorry, sorry,” she declined. “I’m still under the weather. I really should rest up. Can’t save the world and belt out harmonies to complex dance routines if I’m always on the verge of hurling.”
Celine stared at Mi-yeong; she wanted to say something, but shook her head. “Nana, why don’t you go purchase the soju? I’ll take Mi-yeong back to the flat.”
Nana shrugged. “Y’okay. But you better not be too sick for tteokbokki.” She poked Mi-yeong in the shoulder, earning another laugh. With a wave, Nana jumped into the air, using the honmoon to skip and hop away high in the sky.
“I wish she wouldn’t do that,” Celine grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We’re lucky this is a desolate area.”
“Hey, Celine…”
Celine glanced over at Mi-yeong–she was staring at her reflection in the black sea water. A hand pressed to her belly. Celine took a deep breath and approached her.
“I’m sorry I’m so argumentative lately,” Mi-yeong mumbled. Her reflection trembled, darkening her bright eyes and the glimmering jewels on her jacket. “I just… I’m trying really hard, and things are… complicated.”
Celine’s shoulders went slack. “I know,” she said softly. She joined her friend, staring at her matching image in the water. “And I know I can be… a bit harsh, and pretty strict.”
Mi-yeong giggled. “A bit,” she said, then smiled at Celine’s reflection, “but you’re a hunter. One of the best. You fight with everything you’ve got, and sometimes I feel I fail to match your ferocity.”
Celine elbowed Mi-yeong gently. “Well, you could afford to lay off the video games a bit…”
Mi-yeong gasped, feigning indignation. “You leave Mortal Kombat out of this.”
Celine spread her arms, gesturing to their surroundings. “You get enough mortal combat or whatever in real life as is!” she teased.
“I’ll lay off Mortal Kombat–and I know, I just know you said that with a ‘c’--if someone picked Doom back up with me…”
“You know I hate those sorta games!”
Mi-yeong pressed her hands together, whimpering like a kicked puppy with the biggest, wettest eyes. “Please unnieeee…”
Celine glowered, slowly raising a hand to flick Mi-yeong between the eyes.
Mi-yeong wailed, swaying back as if she’d been punched. “Unnie, you’re so cruel!” she whined, wiping away an invisible tear. “Your heart is cold as ice, just like Sub-Zero… That’s why you’re so good at playing him!”
Celine smiled wryly. “That’s why I beat you every. Single. Time, Sonya.”
Mi-yeong went to say something before she winced, clutching her stomach.
Celine’s eyes widened with concern. “Are you all–”
Mi-yeong’s belly grumbled and groaned for an interrupted 10 seconds straight. “... I want kimchi and marshmallows,” she sulked.
“Aigoo…”
“Up and at ‘em, old hag!”
Celine slowly opened her eyes, wincing as they met sunlight. She groaned but forced herself upright in bed.
“You scared me, girl,” Hae-rin called over the clatter of pans, “you actually slept in! World must be going back to Hell.”
Celine rubbed her eyes, then her face. She grunted; pain softly thumped against her temples. “Sorry,” she mumbled dryly. She climbed out of bed, stretching as she walked into the kitchen.
An old woman with a permanent hunchback scooped rice and eggs into their bowls. She hobbled over with her cane, licking thin lips. “But you’re not too late for breakfast,” Hae-rin said, placing the food with the rest of the spread.
Celine went to help, but Hae-rin waved her off with a scowl, chunky bracelets clicking on her thin wrist. “I’m fine! Ough!” She gathered a tray with two cups and a steaming kettle. Celine stood nearby, ready to catch anything or the old lady herself, but Hae-rin put the platter down easily and plopped down at the table.
With a sigh, Celine joined her, immediately pouring the old woman a cup of tea. “I’m sorry, I should’ve helped you make break–”
“Stop apologizing, it’s all you’ve been doing the past few weeks,” Hae-rin fussed. She sipped her tea and cracked open one milky eye. “Besides, I’m not the one you should be apologizin’ to…”
Celine felt her chest tighten; she stared down at her eggs, rice, and soup. “I know,” she said quietly, closing her eyes. “I’m… I’m trying to find the right words. Every time I think I’m close, it just… falls apart.” She ran a hand through her hair. “They’re just not good enough.”
“You remind me of Aera,” Hae-rin chuckled. “She was a perfectionist, and always worrying about everything. In the end, she kept a lot of feelings to herself, afraid she’d offend someone or say something wrong.” She poked her eggs with her chopsticks. “‘The words we speak are part of our power; I will not say something without full conviction backed by my entire soul.’”
Celine smiled weakly. “Her lyrics reflected her strength and pride; mesmerizing, joyful.”
“But sometimes forced,” Hae-rin sighed, “Celine… I know I’ve been guilty of raising you the same way you raised Rumi. It’s only in my wizened age I realize how much pressure I put on you and the girls.” She bowed her head. “Maybe if I hadn’t been so harsh, so demanding, Mi-yeong would’ve…”
Celine reached over the table, placing a hand over Hae-rin’s. “No, Hae-rin,” she reassured, “she chose her path. One I was… ashamed of, but to be honest, now? I feel more ashamed of myself.”
Hae-rin hungrily scarfed down her rice, a few grains sticking to her chin. “And you know how to put that shame to rest!” she exclaimed. “Talk to the girl. I’m sure she’ll forgive you. She has to understand… it was how we were all raised, how we were trained. It’s a pity only now we found the strength to break free of the restraints we put on ourselves. But your girls have done it–you should be proud.”
“I will know the right words before I leave Jeju, unnie,” Celine stated, determined. “And I will make amends with Rumi. I will fix what’s broken, because I do… I do love her.” She sniffed.
Hae-rin tossed a napkin at her face. “Nooo crying in my miyeok-guk!” she chided. “You’ll make it too salty!”
Celine wiped her eyes with the napkin, nodded once. “Right, right.”
Hae-rin gulped down her bowl of soup then sat back with a loud burp. Celine winced. “Aigooo… I got a phone call from Chan-woo earlier; he heard rumors that somethin’ happened at the Carmine Sickle site, and wanted me to check it out. He’s younger than me, but still makes these old bones work so hard. Ssi-bal...”
Celine stiffened, sitting upright. “Has something happened?” she asked, nervous. “Has the site been compromised? Was the seal broken?”
Hae-rin hummed, shaking her head. “Pretty sure some kids foolin’ around accidentally moved a rock or spilled somethin’ on it. Probably the new monk; he’s clumsy, and keeps tripping on things.” She snickered, grinning yellowed teeth. “I told him he’s being haunted by a yokai, a Japanese demon. This thing called a sunekosuri. He insists he isn’t, but I’ve seen him constantly checking his feet when he goes for walks.”
“... But is there an actual sunekosuri?”
“Oh, most definitely,” Hae-rin guffawed. “Adorable little thing. Looks like one of those small ugly dogs with the flat faces.”
“Hae-rin…”
“It’s harmless!” Hae-rin coughed, “mostly,” into her drink. “I’m not gonna exorcise the cute pup.”
“No point in arguing with the head of Flower Power,” Celine said, defeated.
Hae-rin pouted. “I miss my big hair… and my cute little overalls.” She sat upright with a grunt, back cracking loudly. “Well, I should get to checking out the site.”
“Do you mind waiting a little longer?” Celine requested. “I want to check on the seonangdang; won’t be more than fifteen minutes, then I’ll come back and we can go together.”
Hae-rin scratched her armpit, mumbling to herself. “... Make it twelve.”
—
Celine finished her breakfast and washed up quickly. She left Hae-rin’s tiny house and headed up the pathway leading into the forest. She walked briskly at first, determined to return within exactly twelve minutes… But she slowed upon noticing the soft sunlight filtering through the gaps in the tree canopies. The wind was warm and soft, and felt good against her skin. She listened to the sounds of the woods, birds trilling and singing.
She’d been at Jeju for a few weeks, but only now did she actually notice the details of her surroundings. The Japanese callicarpa were in full bloom; pink and white flowers bunched alongside strands of lavender colored berries. Leaves from shiro-damo trees swaying in the lulling breeze, carrying the scent of camellias growing in clusters along the edges of the path. The tall trees forming rows like barriers, canopies lush green and densely packed.
Celine spotted two roe deer in the distance, nibbling on the berries. A family of tufted ducks floated with the current on a narrow river. A striped field mouse brazenly dashed across the path and into a nearby hole.
It was beautiful, and for once in a long time, Celine felt herself relax.
Maybe she’d be a little late, but Celine finally reached her destination. Her eyes brightened at the glimmering threads of the honmoon weaving and curling around the seonangdang. The earth, the grass, was healthy, as was the tree, standing tall and proud as before. Silk ribbons danced and twisted in the wind, almost playful in their movements. As she stepped closer, a rooster clucked as it appeared from around the tree, then went back to carelessly pecking the ground.
Celine chuckled. Probably got loose from one of the nearby farms. Still, the rooster was a good sign–a beacon of light in the darkness. She looked up, admiring the elegant sway of one particularly long blue ribbon. She immediately thought of Rumi’s braid–her ward when she was a child, how every morning she would sit and braid it perfectly.
Celine closed her eyes, and instantly she could hear young Rumi’s joyful giggles, see her bright smile that rivaled the sun. The little girl she spun in circles as they danced, Rumi expertly keeping pace with Celine as she showed her some of the Sunlight Sisters’ old moves. Carrying Rumi fast asleep back home, having expended all her energy playing and singing and waltzing.
The child who, when the storms were too heavy, and the thunder too loud, would sometimes sneak into Celine’s bed and sleep tucked in her arms in a tight embrace. The girl who brought her flowers almost everyday, nearly burnt the house down attempting to make pancakes for her guardian’s birthday, always thankful for whatever she was given, and who looked at Celine sometimes, frightened she would be abandoned because of what she was, scared Celine would one day only see her as a monster.
Standing before her as a child, and as an adult, mature and with the weight of the entire world on her shoulders, hurting and aching because the one who raised her, who took her hand and guided her through the chaos, could only love part of her and could only ever see the Rumi she wanted.
Celine pressed her face in her hands, weeping. She dropped to her knees before the sacred tree. The rooster watched her, curious.
“Rumi,” Celine whispered, tears tracking down her face, “I’m…” She had to find the perfect words, because that’s what Rumi deserved. “I’m so sor–”
A single black cloud had been following Celine on her walk, and now it lingered above her, casting a dark shadow over herself and the tree. The rooster squawked fearfully and immediately took off, disappearing into the shrubbery.
A horrible chill ran up Celine’s spine, the hairs on her neck standing. She spotted the fallen sickle nearby; if she moved fast enough, she could grab it in just a second.
A growl set Celine into a sprint. She reached for the sickle, only for it to be snatched up by a growling blue and red blur. She gasped, spinning back and falling onto her rear. Celine looked up, horrified. The red-eyed bulgasari sat before her, casually devouring the blade as if it were nothing, soft as bread. The second bulgasari appeared from behind it; it slapped its brother with its trunk, nipping at the half-eaten tool.
“What?” Celine blinked, pushing herself up slowly.
The two creatures stopped their fighting, both pairs of eyes looking up and behind Celine.
Celine froze, and every part of her body felt heavy as lead. Sweat beaded her forehead, her breathing shallow. Finally, she willed herself to turn around, only to almost faint at what she saw.
Who she saw.
“You!” Celine recognized her; since the day she became a hunter, she learned all of their history, read all their books, their scrolls, their paintings. And who she saw now turned her blood to ice. “When did you… How did you get out?”
Gaeul smiled against her flute, unraveling nine lashing tails from beneath her hanbok.
“Easily.”
Notes:
Gaeul, Na-bi, and Bora aren't the three hunters we saw in the beginning from the (presumably) Joseon period, no.
Placeholder names were given for the third member of the Sunlight Sisters (Nana) and two of the hunters from the 70s-80s band (Hae-rin, Aera), as well as the name of aforementioned band (Flower Power).
Weapons/items mentioned: ssangsudo, daegeum, samingeom, Nana's glove weapons represent her skills as a taekwondo fighter, as written in this fic. I just liked the idea of Celine having magical sickles for her weapon lol.
Creatures mentioned: bulgasari (commonly seen as benevolent creatures, but so are hunters...), mul gwishin, sunekosuri.
And, of course, bungeoppang!
Any feedback is much appreciated. <3
Chapter 2
Notes:
just goin' ham writing while i can
Once more, heavy on the fanon/headcanon, especially concerning Zoey's backstory/family.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Rumi had a lucid dream that night.
Nothing extravagant; she was walking alone down a busy, crowded street in Myeongdong. It was odd nobody seemed to be paying her any attention, even though she wasn’t in disguise. But the world moved and breathed and continued on without acknowledging her.
Rumi walked by a cosmetic shop. Outside she saw herself and Zoey speaking to an employee advertising their new cherry blossom coconut lotion. Dreaming Rumi wasn’t fazed by her duplicate, who had yet to notice her.
“Oooh,” Zoey swooned, smelling her hands, “smell, smell! It’s so lush!” She stuck her hands against Rumi’s face, nearly smacking her in the nose.
Both Rumis laughed. Dreaming Rumi remembered now–this was a memory, or a part of her memory. Two years ago, Rumi and the girls went shopping while on break from their last album. Mira had broken off to get them lunch. The girls hadn’t been to Myeongdong in over a year, having very little free time between work, demon slaying, and touring.
Rumi snickered; at the time, Zoey’s disguise included an ugly red wig, one that hung down to the small of her back. It didn’t really help them not stand out, so it was quickly ditched.
“It’s nice,” Rumi agreed, the saleswoman nodding. “Do you want it?”
Zoey bit the corner of her lip. “Even with the discount, I already spent most of my money,” she mourned.
“The deal does end today, I’m afraid,” the woman lamented, feigning pity.
“Then I guess we’ll need to buy a few bottles,” Rumi insisted. She took out a handful of notes. “This should cover at least three.”
The saleswoman grinned ear to ear. “For your generous purchase,” she swooned, taking the money, “we’ll throw in one travel size bottle for free!”
Zoey squealed, hugging Rumi. “Thank yooooou! But you didn’t needa buy three.”
“One for each of us,” Rumi explained.
Zoey took the bag of lotions, removing one to squirt out a huge dollop, rub it between her hands, then smear it all over her face, leaving a thick pink-white mask. “Ooohh, I’m gonna smell like a cherry tree in spring! But I also produce coconuts!”
Rumi laughed as Zoey struggled to rub all the lotion into her skin.
“It’s a nice smell. Very fresh but fragrant,” he said from behind Rumi, “it suits you.”
Both Rumis turned but saw no one. “Was that…?” Dreaming Rumi mumbled, glancing around the market. Too many people, all of them blending together. “But…”
Rumi spotted the back of a tall man in a black coat walking ahead. She gasped. “That– Jinu!” Even from behind she could recognize him. She darted after “Jinu”, weaving around a group of old ladies and turning a corner.
“Jinu”, however, was gone.
“I was never really big on crowds when I was younger, unless it was a mosh pit or protest,” Mira explained, walking with Rumi past the dreaming counterpart. “But now… All the energy, it’s amazing. Invigorating.”
Rumi turned to watch them stop to buy boba tea at a food stand. “Right? Whenever I feel down or insecure about my work, I like to come out here, be with the people. Really lightens the spirit again.”
Mira chuckled. “Yup.” She took her strawberry boba drink. “But we’ve been to half the shops here and still haven’t figured out what to get Zoey. She likes a lot of stuff, and there’s plenty of junk she’d enjoy, but–”
“You wanna get something one of a kind,” Rumi, Dream Rumi, and Mira said in unison.
“We still have time before we need to head back,” Rumi reassured, checking her phone.
Mira was quiet. Rumi and Dream Rumi tilted their heads.
“Somethin’ up, Mira?”
Mira blinked out of her stupor. “Um… no. Nothing,” she mumbled, clutching her cup tight, “just thought I saw someone I know, that’s all.”
“Oh…”
“Probably a family member,” he said, “given her reaction.”
Rumi squeaked and whipped around, reaching to grab Jinu. Her hand only caught air, but at least she could see Jinu now–standing in the middle of the street up ahead, hands casually tucked in his pockets, a smarmy grin on his face.
“Wooow,” Jinu teased, “I’m haunting your dreams. You must really miss me.”
“Jinu!” Rumi cried. She ran toward him, only for a large crowd to suddenly fill the space between. She struggled to push and squeeze through the people. “Jinu–sorry! Sorry, please–Jinu, wait!” Jinu was disappearing in the sea of bodies; she reached for him. “Jinu, don’t leave!”
Neon lights from the building across the street blinded Rumi and she recoiled. An older man bumped into her, hard enough to knock Rumi back. The world slowed, like some scene out of a movie, as she fell to the ground. Then a hand was reaching out for her, and Rumi felt a rush of déjà vu; she stretched out to take the hand, knowing this time it wouldn’t pull away, this time they–
Jinu shoved his finger up Rumi’s nose.
“No, I–that’s not me!” she heard him shout before the world turned white.
Rumi woke with a yelp as Sussie pecked her right in the nostril. The demonic magpie squawked and flew back before Rumi could slap them across the room. “Ugh!” she snapped, sitting up and throwing her legs over the side of the bed. She rubbed her sore nose. “Sussie, really?”
Sussie stood on Rumi’s vanity mirror, shrugging.
Rumi grumbled then gagged; even though she had brushed her teeth, she could still taste that awful combination of red bean paste and lemon soda. She checked her phone. “Dammit,” she cursed, “I coulda slept another half hour.”
Sussie trilled innocently.
“No thimbles of cheongju for a week,” Rumi hissed. Sussie angrily flapped their wings in protest. Rumi sneered, standing. “Next time maybe don’t wake me by–” She took one step forward, only to trip over a thick, furry obstacle.
Rumi dove right into a bean bag, burning her knee just slightly on the rug. She pushed herself up, turning her glower back at the thumping tail sticking out from under her bed.
“What are you even doing under there!” Rumi chided. She grabbed the tiger’s tail, struggling to pull the chunky beast out.
Derpy clumsily and slowly crawled out backwards, knocking against Rumi’s nightstand. Her clock fell over, a lamp about to hit the floor before she caught it. Derpy plopped down, turned his head nearly 360 degrees around and blinked one eye at a time at Rumi. In his mouth clung scraps of paper.
“Are you eating my notebooks?” Rumi gasped. She grabbed one bright pink corner from his fangs. “Oh, not my love ballad ideas!”
Derpy chuffed.
Rumi groaned, slumping forward. “Guys… come on. I thought you were on tour. Hitting up all the trendy shrines and paranormal hotspots for parties.”
Derpy gave a melancholy growl, lowering his head, light dimming from his eyes. Sussie soared over and perched on his back, gently pecking the tiger in comfort.
Rumi felt a twinge of guilt. “You guys miss Jinu, too, huh?”
Derpy whimpered and Sussie sighed. Yes indeed.
Rumi knelt before the tiger and magpie, lifting Derpy’s head so their eyes met. “I know,” she said, smiling forlornly. She rubbed one furry cheek then reached up to scratch under Sussie’s beak. “But at least we have each other, yeah? Even if you guys can be meddlesome goblins sometimes.”
Sussie snickered. Derpy’s left eye rolled in a different direction but he was smiling again. He opened his mouth, dropping the remains of Rumi’s journal drenched in slobber.
Rumi’s smile twitched. “Th-thanks…”
There was a knock at the door. “Rumi,” Mira called out, “you up?”
“Yeah!” Rumi gagged as she used a blanket to wrap up the dripping journal and shove it under her bed. She’d deal with it later. “You can come in!”
Mira opened the door. Sussie immediately dove at her face with a fierce cry. Mira turned in a flash, the magpie soaring past just a centimeter from her cheek. “Still too slow, bird-brain,” she smirked.
Sussie did a walk of shame back into the room.
Mira walked over to Rumi, reaching down to scratch and rub Derpy’s ears. “I’m about to shower,” she explained. Derpy thumped his tail and drooled. “Bobby called and said everything’s ready to go, and the dancers all checked in.”
“Yeah, good, good.”
Mira looked at Rumi, then at the two creatures. “Uh, the vibes in here? Kinda depressing with a side of oophh and yikes.” Before Rumi could speak, Mira dragged her to the bed and pulled her down to sit. “Talk.”
Rumi blushed, embarrassed. “I had another dream... with Jinu.”
“Ah,” Mira replied, nodding sagely, “yeah, that blows.” She took Rumi’s hand. “Seriously though, I’m sorry, Rumi. It’s gonna take a while, but it’ll be okay.”
Rumi nodded, squeezing her hand. “I know.” She looked between the tiger and magpie. “I just hope these guys understand.”
Mira shrugged. “Sussie, probably,” she said, and the magpie preened. “Derpy? Oh, not at all.” She reached over to noogie the oblivious tiger’s head. “Sorry, big guy.”
“He’s probably in the afterlife mugging and being an obnoxious playboy anyway,” Rumi joked. Mira laughed, and Rumi joined her.
“Is Zoey awake?”
“She left a bit ago. Wanted to get one of those popular chocolate cheesecakes at Jagiya Sweet Cafe before they sell out. Gotta be there crazy early.”
“Knowing Zoey’s spunk, determination, and energy,” Rumi said confidently, “she’s definitely gonna be first in line.”
—
“Noooo!” Zoey cried, dropping to her knees in front of Jagiya Sweet Cafe. A sign reading CHEESECAKES SOLD OUT! SORRY :( hung on one of the doors. A couple leaving uneasily kept a wide berth walking around her.
Zoey dropped forward in defeat, tears puddling on the pavement. “I can’t believe it! I’m a failure!” she wailed.
“Oh my God, is that Zoey from HUNTR/X?”
“I… I think it is! Wow, wow, call oppa!”
Zoey jumped to her feet, rigid and wide-eyed. Her hat had fallen off, disguise dispelled. She quickly jammed it back on her head then fled before the fans could get to her.
Zoey dashed through the streets, sticking to the shadows; once she was a good enough distance away, she stopped and fell back against the wall. “That was close,” she exhaled, wiping sweat from her brow. “But… the cheesecake.” Her eyes watered, threatening to break the dam. “I’m… I’m so–”
“Hello, agassi,” an elderly man interrupted, pushing a cart filled with bundles of various flowers. “You look a bit down. Maybe a flower or twelve would cheer you up?” He reached a shaky hand for a single sunflower tied with a yellow bow. “Ah, this matches you quite well.”
Zoey took a deep sniff and slapped her cheeks, willing back the tears and unnerving the old man. “Flowers… Oh!” Her eyes lit up. “It’s no cheesecake, but halmoni does prefer flowers.”
“Oh? Purchasing something for your grandmother? Her birthday, perhaps?” the vendor inquired.
“Yup! But these are all so pretty,” Zoey groaned, admiring all the colorful flowers, “I don’t know which to choose!”
The old man thought a moment before producing a bouquet of pink plum blossoms. “Maehwa–endurance, strength, and perseverance. Simple, straightforward while still thoughtful and elegant.”
“Oh, those are perfect!” Zoey said, clapping. She checked the sign listing prices hanging on the front of the cart. “I’ll take a dozen maehwa, please.”
“Wonderful choice!”
Zoey exchanged notes for the plum blossoms wrapped in a red ribbon. “Thank you, flower grandpa!” she giggled.
The six remaining strands of hair on the old man’s head bristled. “Grandpa?” he scowled, flexing his arms. “I’m the expert coach at the local jujutsu club!” He made sure his biceps pressed up into the fabric of his sleeves, threatening to tear them.
Zoey tittered, stepping away slowly. “S-Sorry, jujutsu master.” With a bow, she quickly went to hide at the bus stop.
—
Bobby threw the auditorium doors open. “Everyone!” he hollared. “Stop being peasants and listen up!” He stomped his foot and pointed to the floor. “Line! Now!”
The five dancers chatting and stretching immediately jumped up and filed into a single line. Two men, three women, each wearing gray workout clothing and signs with their names attached to their chests.
“That’s right, that’s right! Look alive, people! We got pop star royalty here!” Bobby exclaimed. He counted the dancers– “Uh, hello? Where is number six? Hong Gil-dong? Where is Hong Gil-dong?”
One dancer looked a tad confused by the name but quickly went blank faced again.
Rumi and Mira stepped into the room. Only two of the dancers remained stony, perfectly professional, but the others couldn’t help but giggle and cheer at seeing the two idols. Mira and Rumi happily waved back, joining them on stage.
“Hello, everyone!” Rumi said cheerfully. “We’re so excited to work with you!”
Both groups exchanged bows.
Mira studied a rather tall, athletic dancer. “Bobby said you were the best of the best. Can’t wait to see your chops.”
“Exactly! Only the best for my girls!” Bobby insisted only to hiss a split second after. “Except Hong Gil-dong, I’m going to write a strongly worded borderline threatening–”
“Why does that name sound familiar?” Mira asked Rumi, brows furrowed. Rumi shrugged but chuckled at Bobby’s outburst.
Bobby finished making his note. “But! Anyway! Back on track! As requested, each of these guys have undergone classical training. Probably not that Hong jerk, though. If need be, I can stand in for him until I hire a substitute.” He attempted an elegant twirl only to hit his foot against a stool, punting it high and nearly hitting a sandbag hanging from the rafters. It drew Rumi’s attention to the flickering bulb above–probably should get that fixed.
Bobby recomposed himself, face bright red. “Uh, er– Zoey’s not back yet? No problem! Already sent her grandma a sing-a-gram.”
Mira and Rumi finished the meet and greet, quickly learning everyone’s names and important details, signing autographs and taking photos.
“As you can see in your notes,” Mira explained, taking a copy from Bobby, “the song we’re rehearsing first, Her Pirouette, is based on the tale of a wandering, heartbroken ghost who, through all the pain and denial, manages to find the power to love herself and ascend into the afterlife.”
“It is about letting go and acceptance,” Rumi added, “especially when your circumstances cannot be changed.”
Mira nodded. “So, while it’s not really my thing, I figured fusing modern dance with ballet would really set the mood and match the tone. Go to page 6…”
Rumi read over the lyrics attached to the notes. Although Zoey wrote most of the song, the chorus and general theme had come from a piece Rumi created when she was a child. She’d been eight years old; Celine was meeting with a big time producer at their lake house. While her guardian sat and discussed business over tea, Rumi wandered off to explore the vast grounds and garden. A maid kept close by, just in case, but didn’t speak a word.
Rumi finally headed to the lake in the back. She was interested in exploring the pretty boat they had docked when she heard soft sobbing. She blinked, hesitating; turning, she took a new direction, moving down to the edge of the water.
Twelve feet from the shore, a woman wearing a white gown floated on the serene surface of the lake. Her black hair hung loose and wild at her sides, hiding her face as she wept into her hands.
“Unnie?” Rumi called out, surprised. She glanced back at the maid; she couldn’t see the woman, but she did look confused. Probably thought she was calling to her.
The woman lowered her hands, turning her head; black bangs parted to show her milky gray eyes, her skin as pale as fresh snow and blemished by old tear tracks. Rumi knew this lady wasn’t human, and of course she should be fleeing to safety and telling Celine what she saw, but… Her cries sounded so painfully familiar.
“Why are you crying? I’ve cried like you before, when I felt really sad,” Rumi said, instinctively tugging down her sleeves.
The ghost drifted closer, eyes never leaving Rumi.
“I won’t hurt you,” Rumi reassured, stepping back, “so please don’t hurt me, okay?”
“Miss,” the maid said, “is something the matter?”
Hurt?
Rumi said nothing but stood her ground.
I see the patterns under your clothes. A terrible fate. You poor thing.
Rumi scowled. “I’m not…!” She pursed her lips, upset.
When you hear the voices call for you, run. Never stop runn–
A sickle soared through the air, right through the ghost’s sternum. With a mournful sigh, she disappeared into the ether. The sickle melded back into the honmoon as Celine grabbed Rumi by the shoulder and yanked her away from the water.
“Rumi!” Celine scolded. The maid was even more startled. “What did I tell you? You don’t talk to those things. Ever.”
Rumi sniffled, wiping her eyes with tiny fists. “She wasn’t gonna hurt me. She was sad, and it made me sad, ‘cause she said… she said…”
Celine sighed. “Never listen to demons, and never listen to spirits like her,” she said, picking the sniveling child up. “They only tell lies.”
Rumi looked up at Celine, clutching her blouse. “Do you think my dad told mom he loved he–”
“That’s enough,” Celine interrupted, squeezing Rumi tighter. She felt a pang of guilt, like an old wound being scratched open. “Just… come back inside and have tea, all right? There’s yakgwa.”
Rumi pushed aside herself and Celine in the memory, focusing on the ghost. When she was exorcised, was she transported to the demon world? Did she ascend into heaven? Or was she simply forced to linger in another form of limbo? For a week, her child self fretted and worried about the cheonyeogwisin until one day she wrote out her silly lyrics and decided then and there the ghost had gotten a happy ending, had found strength and power to believe in herself and find peace at least.
I like to think she did, too.
Rumi jumped, nearly throwing her papers at a stagehand’s face. “Sorry, sorry!” She bowed repeatedly as the stagehand just bowed nervously back and tiptoed away. “Am I going crazy? Ough!” she snapped, stamping her foot and scaring the stagehand again.
She swore she heard him!
Mira had no idea what Rumi was pouting about, but she chuckled anyway. “Okay!” She turned to address the dancers as they got into positions. “What we’re–”
“Sorry I’m late, everyone. I had to take a call.”
Everyone looked back as a man stepped out from the wings. Handsome with a baby-face wearing a fancy black suit and matching glasses. His dark brown eyes met Mira’s, who stared back, gaping in shock.
“Yoooou!” Bobby shrieked. “Hong Gil-dong, how daaaare--”
“Oh, this is rich,” Mira snapped, hand on her hip. “Seriously?”
“This was the only way I could meet with you,” Gil-dong replied, adjusting his glasses.
“It’s almost as if I didn’t want to see you!” Mira snarled.
Bobby blinked, Rumi equally baffled. The other dancers and stagehands huddled off to the side.
“Uhh, Mira? Wanna fill us in?”
“No!” Mira barked at Bobby and Rumi. She groaned, massaging her temples. “Not… not right now, sorry. You!” She marched over to the smartly dressed dancer, grabbed him by the tie, and yanked him backstage. “If anyone hears blood curdling screaming, it’s just me not murdering an annoying uptight nerd!”
A door slammed shut.
“Oh!” Rumi slapped her cheeks. “Oh my God! That’s Mira’s–”
“What?” Bobby interjected, reading his phone. “... Hong Gil–God, I’m so stupid!”
—
“GetyourBUTTinhereyouIDIOT!” Mira roughly shoved Gil-dong into the breakroom. She stomped inside, shutting and locking the door behind her. “What are you doing here, Seo-jun?” she hissed.
Seo-jun tidied his hair. “I did try calling your personal number at least ten times before resorting to all of this.”
“I don’t answer calls from people I’ve blocked or don’t know. And how did you even get–”
“And I tried sending you an email, but the only ones available were all intercepted by your agent or official fan club lackeys. No doubt you threw away any traditional letters I’ve sent you, because I did send at least three.” Seo-jun shrugged, pushing up his glasses.
“Bobby sometimes goes through them first, with our permission,” Mira explained politely, “so when he receives letters involving your name or address, he puts them aside in a very special paper shredder.”
“Even the ones using an alias?”
“I didn’t read them.”
“Then why throw them aw–”
“I am going to strangle you with my bare hands!” Mira screeched, throttling the neck of a nearby mannequin head.
Seo-jun smirked. “Either way, I expect no less from a pop star, especially one of your status. I was close to hacking–”
“Seo-jun,” Mira growled through grit teeth, “what are you. Doing here.”
“I recently landed a scholarship at SNU–”
“You couldn’t get a scholarship for a university in Busan? Or better yet!” Mira furiously typed in her phone, scrolling for a second. “Reykjavik University in Iceland?”
Seo-jun scowled. “And I was hoping you would give me a tour of the city.”
Mira burst out cackling. “Oh, wow, are you serious?” she howled. “Oh, right, that’s the only emotion you know."
“We haven’t spoken in years,” Seo-jun replied defensively, “you don’t know–”
“I don’t want to! I don’t want to know,” Mira interjected, shoving a finger against his chest. “I know enough and that’s good enough for me.”
Seo-jun sighed, shaking his head. “Nuna...”
“Don’t. We haven’t addressed each other as family for as long as I can remember. Don’t think you can start now,” Mira fumed. She unlocked and opened the door for him. “Just go. And if you need a guide, I’m sure mom and dad will be happy to lend you the money. Probably buy you a whole entourage to carry you around in a palanquin like royalty.”
“Mom and dad? Whatever happened to us not addressing each other as family, Mira?” Seo-jun pointed out.
Mira screamed, pulling fistfuls of hair. Seo-jun jumped back, bowling into a cardboard cutout of HUNTR/X. “Leave! Me! Alone, Seo-jun!” she spat. She immediately left, slamming the door once, twice, and a third time for good measure.
Seo-jun sat on the floor, his head replacing cardboard Mira’s he’d accidentally torn off. He watched the door in silence for a while.
—
Zoey turned the corner just in time to see her grandma standing at the door, watching three men in clown outfits sing and dance for her. Her expression was unreadable. The group finished their bit, their leader kneeling and offering the woman a card. She took it slowly with an awkward half-bow.
“Ah… Thank you…”
The three performers bowed before prancing off.
Zoey stifled her giggles and ran ahead before her grandma could close the door. “Halmoni!” she called out.
Mi-ran turned, face lighting up instantly. “Zoey,” she cooed. She spotted the flowers and beamed. “Are those for me?”
“Of course!” Zoey giggled. She held out the bouquet. “Happy Birthday, grams! I’d sing for you, but I think that’s already been covered…”
“Yes… Rather odd. But apparently they were a gift from your agent,” Mi-ran replied, showing Zoey the birthday card. “Maybe next time he could just mail the card by post… Anyway.” She took the flowers and stepped aside. “Gaja gaja…”
Zoey walked inside, removing her shoes. The two hugged briefly. “Sit, sit,” her grandma said, motioning to the sofa. “I’ll put these in some water and bring tea.”
“I can help–”
“No, I can handle it! Go sit!”
Zoey hesitated, standing awkwardly at the door, as if she were a stranger. She walked into the living room, past the couch and up to the fireplace. Framed photos lined the mantel, but her attention was immediately drawn to one specific picture.
A family photo taken when she was a child. She sat on her mother’s lap, smiling and showing the gap where she’d lost her two front baby teeth. Beside her mother was her father. Both of her parents sat perfectly straight with grave expressions on their faces; father in his steamed suit and mother in her prim and proper navy blue dress. The backdrop was a simple steel gray, matching the bench they sat on. The only real pop of colors came from Zoey’s white and pastel silver dress and her mother’s blonde hair.
The photo next to it was more recent; five or so years ago, sitting while her father stood on her right, hand on the back of his daughter’s chair. Next to that, a photo of her standing side by side holding bouquets of lilies with her mother. Although separated, both her parents still wore the same drab clothing, same dull backgrounds, same serious expressions. But Zoey always made sure to smile.
“I’m due for new ones, especially now that you’re a big star,” Mi-ran said, setting down the tea before placing the vase of flowers at the center of the table. “Your mother called and wished me a happy birthday; very thoughtful of her. Your father’s still out in the boonies for work, apparently can’t get a signal.” She harrumphed, clearly agitated. “Wouldn’t kill him to drive into the nearest town to make a call, but…”
Zoey chuckled quietly. “You know dad,” she said, “burying himself in work as always.”
“He’s a good man,” Mi-ran replied, pouring them tea. Zoey nodded and took her cup in both hands. “He’s worked very hard to give you a comfortable and stable life. Same as your mother, of course…”
Zoey looked at her green reflection in the tea. “Yeah… And I’m thankful.” She was, truly, but sometimes… It was hard.
Her father had always been self-sufficient, took his work very seriously, and never complained when things got tough. He valued older traditions with a similar mindset as his late father. While he’d never insulted or belittled her hobbies, he wasn’t exactly the best at concealing his desire for Zoey to find a husband soon and have children of her own. Marry a nice man, and focus on being a housewife. Don’t overwork yourself like your mother–even if he was just as bull-headed and difficult as she was.
Mom was a bit more different. She was honest about her concerns that Zoey’s interests were too idealistic and would never land her a stable job. She couldn’t rely on writing music and singing to get through life. Of course now that Zoey was an international popstar, her mom bit her tongue, but she still prepared for a possible fallout. Show business was fickle and cruel, and Zoey was used to her frequent warnings not to keep her head too high in the clouds, even if she had achieved her dream.
You never know when you might come falling down, crashing and burning.
Mother wasn’t too keen on the housewife idea, insisting Zoey blaze her own path as an independent woman… so long as it was reasonable, and followed her instructions and recommendations. She didn’t really care to have grandchildren so never pushed there, at least, but she did echo her ex-husband’s sentiment on marrying so Zoey could have a second income to rely on if necessary. Back then, “in the future,” but now, “in case your band breaks up or your stars begin to wane.”
Both of her parents loved her, even if at times they didn’t quite understand her. They were products of their upbringing, of their parents’ lessons and discipline and beliefs. And although from what Rumi had told her, Celine definitely screwed up big time, the entire “faults and fears never to be seen” motto... it reminded her a bit of the codes her own parents lived by.
Zoey sipped her tea, hesitant for a moment. “I know pop and, well, most modern music isn’t really your thing,” she said, smiling nervously, “but did you happen to listen to the new album yet?”
“Of course… And you’re right, it isn’t ‘my thing,’” Mi-ran smirked. “You’ve always been a wonderful vocalist and lyricist. Although sometimes you sing way too fast for me to understand what you’re saying.”
Zoey laughed. Despite everything, at least her parents and grandma did listen to her albums, watched her music videos and interviews, and kept up with her life in the spotlight. Her music wasn’t their favorite genre either, and in the beginning they did suggest she try something more traditional, but they still supported her.
Although it didn’t necessarily stop her dad from recommending she retire or put her career on hold for a while to wed and have a child or two. After all, she was in her early twenties–better get a hop on it!
“I saw your interview with that weird comedian man,” Mi-ran said, “I don’t care for those gossip shows, but you three girls looked very cute.”
Zoey blushed. “Thanks, halmoni.”
“Tell Mira and Rumi to visit sometime. I know you’re busy celebrities and everything, but you should always make time for family!”
“Of course!” Zoey reassured, waving a hand. “It might not be for a month since we’re doing a big concert in a few weeks, but I’m sure they’ll be happy to come over and eat your delicious dasik!”
“Precisely, which is why I made a batch you can take home and share with the girls.”
Zoey’s eyes watered as she sniffled, heart full of love. “Gram…”
“And don’t even think of eating all of them by yourself, young lady.”
“Wh-what? I would never! ... Not this time, okay.”
—
Rumi knew when people wanted privacy, when they were upset and needed time to process. When Mira returned, clearly irritated, she did not pry. It was best to give her space so she could come to her on her own terms.
Mira immediately threw herself back into work, cajoling the dancers and Rumi into their places. Lights ready, music on, Bobby recording, practice began.
Mira always put her all into her choreography and vocals, but now she could funnel her rage into fuel for her work. And although occasionally snarky and snippy, she never yelled or insulted the dancers or Rumi for any mistakes. Soon the anger left her all together, and all she focused on was the dance, helping her partners to improve, patiently repeating moves over and over again until everyone felt right and synchronized.
It was funny watching strangers interact with Mira, especially those who didn’t quite know her or her reputation. Many people assumed she was cold and abrasive, and while she definitely could be, she was as kind, understanding, and helpful as she was blunt and curt. She managed to maintain a disinterested front while still being thoughtful and allowing people to get close.
Never too close, of course, but that was the way with all three of them.
So when the dancers’ faces lit up with genuine and delightful surprise, blushing with glee, realizing stone cold badass Mira was actually pretty chill and laid back, it always made Rumi’s heart soar.
Rumi, watch out!
Rumi stumbled mid-attitude; before she could fully register the voice she’d just heard, she abruptly felt all the wind being knocked out of her. With a gasp she stumbled back, moving just in time as the flickering stage light exploded, raining down shards of glass mere inches in front of her.
“Rumi!” Mira and Bobby cried, immediately running to her side.
Rumi was shaking. She stared in silent horror at the broken glass at her feet, at her multiple fractured reflections. That was… she could have…
“Rumi, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Mira asked, grabbing Rumi’s hands as she examined her for any injuries.
“I…”
“Take ten everyone!” Bobby shouted hoarsely.
“Rumi?”
Rumi blinked rapidly. “... Pushed,” she whispered, lightly touching her chest. She envisioned another hand, one she recognized, shoving her back. “He pushed me away…”
Mira raised a brow. “Who?” She stepped aside for two stagehands to sweep up the mess. Bobby was scrambling over with a first aid kit.
Rumi looked at Mira. She didn’t know what to say.
—
Grandmother and granddaughter spent an hour talking over tea and cookies. Zoey hugged and kissed Mi-ran goodbye, promising to call her more frequently. She felt so refreshed and stuffed full of delicious treats, she couldn’t help but hum, skip, and sway on the bus ride back. She did a twirl before leaping out at her stop and another twirl as she walked ahead.
Everything felt light as a–
Zoey recoiled as the honmoon threads beside her flashed a malevolent red, trailing down into the opposite alley. She heard something crash a moment later. Wasting no time, Zoey zipped across the street, parkoured off the walls, a dumpster, and leaped around a corner with shin-kal in hand.
Zoey gasped, nearly dropping her weapons as her jaw fell open. The old man selling flowers was being attacked by none other than Baby… or another demon bearing his image. He was dressed the same as the day she and the others had first met the Saja Boys–pink checkered knit sweater, yellow hat, and disgustingly hot tight fitting pants.
“You’re supposed to be rotting in Gwi-ma’s gullet, you know!” Zoey shouted, charging.
Baby turned, his pale face twisted in horror and surprise. Before Zoey could throw a blade, the old man let out a battle cry, posing as if he were about to perform an intricate jujutsu attack maneuver before slamming his foot hard into Baby’s crotch.
Zoey flinched, hissing between clenched teeth.
Baby whimpered, doubling over and collapsing on his side. The old man took his cart and ran faster than anyone his age, or presumed age, possibly could.
“Yowch,” Zoey tsked. “I wanna say sorry, but I kinda gotta send your butt back to the great beyond, soooo…”
Baby snarled, struggling to sit up. Zoey took a few steps closer before stopping–from here, she could see just how awful he looked. Given his corpse-like complexion it was hard to say if he was sickly, but his patterns were dull and flickering faintly. His once big, alluring eyes were hazy and bloodshot. Cuts lined his clawed and bandaged hands, and his clothing was worn and torn in places, dirty in others, as if he’d rolled down a long steep gravel hill then decided never to wash or bathe himself again.
“You’re lookin’... really rough, buddy,” Zoey commented. She didn’t know why, but she felt… sorry for the guy. Yeah, she was still gonna take him out, but the bigger they are, the harder they fall, she supposed.
Baby cursed, swaying to his feet. “Good luck catching me, hunter,” he spat, disappearing.
Baby reappeared down another alley. He smirked, brushed off his dirtied pants, then turned to casually leave. Only to find Zoey standing right in front of him.
“Uhh… dude?” Zoey pointed down the alley. “You only poofed like ten feet away…”
Baby shrieked and recoiled. Zoey raised her shin-kal instinctively–With an exhausted sigh, Baby crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Zoey blinked, still in battle pose. “... Um.” She stood there for a second, then nudged Baby with her boot. “Heeey… you alive?”
Baby groaned in pain.
Zoey checked her surroundings. She couldn’t remember how many of the Saja Boys she and the girls had taken out. “I got Mystery,” she mumbled, counting on her fingers, “Mira got Abby… Jinu–well, rest in peace. But…” She couldn’t recall seeing anyone exorcise Baby and Romance. “Oh, gosh, does that mean Romance is around here too? Ugghhh…” She placed her hands firmly on her hips, glowering down at the cute demon boy. “Is your buddy here? Is he hiding?”
Baby did not respond, due to being unconscious.
Zoey immediately went back into battle mode, shin-kal raised. She studied her surroundings, taking in every little sight and sound. Waiting for Romance to attempt to ambush her and save his friend. A minute passed… then two, three, four, five… “You know, it’s badass, but it kinda hurts holding this pose,” Zoey grumbled, maintaining her threatening posture.
Six, seven, eight minutes, and Zoey groaned, sagging. Then immediately went to throw her blades at the demon who was of course waiting for her to let… down…
Nothing. No Romance. Baby had curled up on his side, looking very much like his namesake.
“I’m glad we’re alone ‘cause if anyone saw me right now I’d probably jump into the dumpster to hide, this is so embarrassing,” Zoey explained. She tugged on her buns. “Now I’m talking to myself! Great! Look what you’ve made me do!” She gently kicked Baby in the leg, but still he did not wake.
“Ugh! Whatever!” Zoey summoned her shin-kal. “I’ll put you in a dumpster. Hell’s dumpster, heh.” She drew one blade back, winding up to throw it at Baby’s face. “Back where you… be…”
Baby whimpered in his sleep, curling into himself tighter. He sounded… frightened. It might’ve been an act, but… “You’re… scared?” she mumbled, her weapons fading into the honmoon. “I mean, you should be, duh hello, but…!”
Zoey stood there, watching the demon in silence. For some reason, her heart ached. It felt wrong taking him out like this, even if he was the enemy. It didn’t help that he was trembling now, hugging himself.
“Mmmm.” Zoey’s eyes watered and lips trembled, as if she were looking at a sick and dying kitten. “... Fine!” She reached down for Baby, wild-eyed and furious, but did not attack him. The demon was surprisingly light, she could easily throw him over her shoulder. She checked if the coast was clear before taking off.
“I’m only doin’ this until I can get Rumi and Mira, okay? Still gonna totally cut you up.”
—
By the time Zoey arrived at the studio, the dancers were packing up for the day.
“Wha? I’m not that late!” Zoey cried. “It’s the cheesecake all over again!”
“We’re just calling it an early day,” Bobby explained, flustered. “Rumi was nearly injured in an accident. I’m blaming the fake Hong Gil-dong.”
“Fake John Doe? What?” She looked up as Rumi and Mira approached her. “Oh, Rumi! Are you okay? You’re so pale!”
“She’s being haunted,” Mira said flatly, annoyed.
Rumi scowled. “I’m not–I’m not being haunted!”
It took Zoey a moment. “Is this about Jinu?” she whispered. Bobby was busy reading on his phone. “Did he show up or something? Was he wearing a bedsheet with two eye holes in it?”
“Zoey…”
“Look,” Rumi grunted, massaging her temples, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not gonna lie. I have been sensing Jinu, and even seeing him in my dreams. I don’t know if it’s just me or some sort of repressed guilt or unresolved emotions, but I’m… still connected to him.” She clutched her chest. “I just need to figure this all out. There’s gotta be an explanation.”
“Haunted,” Mira and Zoey said in unison.
“Oh, for–”
“Girls,” Bobby spoke up, joining their tight knit circle. “Not to eavesdrop or anything, but I just got a message from Celine.”
The room suddenly went tense. Rumi felt as if her head was going to explode.
“She’s still leaving Jeju at the end of the week, but apparently she’s making a stop for some side business that’ll take a few more days,” Bobby explained. “After that, she’ll be back in the studio.”
“Side business?” Rumi asked. “What? Where?”
“Don’t know, and don’t know,” Bobby chuckled, “apparently that’s none of my business, ha!” He shrugged a bit too comically.
Rumi wilted. She wanted to speak face to face with Celine, clear the air, take the first step to hopefully mending their relationship, even if a part of her was still hurting and wanted to push her away for good. She could feel her anxiety spike–this business with Jinu, the stress over their upcoming concert, her rocky relationship with her guardian…
“I think maybe we should head back home,” Mira offered, rubbing Rumi’s back. “You could use a nap. And a scream in your pillow.” She glanced up at Zoey who’d been nodding in agreement. “Are you okay, Zoey? You’re a little late. Did something happen?”
Zoey gasped–how the Hell could she have forgotten? She opened her mouth to speak, but then she saw just how gloomy and miserable Rumi looked… Then she recalled a text she received earlier. While her grandma had pardoned herself to use the bathroom, Rumi had sent her a message.
Mira’s brother stopped by posing as a back-up dancer!! Don’t know what happened will ask her later. Tonight we splurge on pizza and watch a horror movie to cheer her up!!! ⁽⁽(੭ •̀Д•́ )੭*⁾⁾
Zoey chewed her bottom lip. Although it did feel odd the others hadn’t received the same warning signal when Baby materialized. But, no, not right now. “... No, nothing,” she giggled, “just got attacked by a sick feral cat, that’s all.”
“Damn. Sounds awesome. Details later.”
—
Rumi hadn’t taken a nap, but she did spend a few minutes screaming into her pillow. Now moreso about Celine than this weird totally-not-haunting of Jinu.
Well…
It didn’t make any sense–if he was a ghost, why couldn’t she see him? Why couldn’t he throw stuff around the room or leave behind gross ectoplasm? No, actually, forget that. Why was it only every once in a while she heard his voice or felt what might’ve been his touch? Sure, it was weird how he responded in her dream, but it was just that–a dream. And why now? Why hadn’t he reached out to her shortly after his passing? Why wait weeks to make contact?
Despite the irrefutable evidence Rumi had that ghosts and spirits existed, the idea Jinu was one of them didn’t… feel right. Because if he was a ghost, that implied he hadn’t moved on. Was she tying him down? Her guilt about not being able to save him–not in the way she hoped for, she dreamed of. Jinu had been a pivotal turning point in her life; although he couldn’t take all the credit, he helped restore her voice, helped her find more confidence in herself.
That, and…
The seeds he planted that bloomed into flowers, had the roots buried too deep in her? Was she keeping him bound to earth?
“You don’t need to stay here, you know,” Rumi said, half to herself. She walked onto her balcony, staring out at the cityscape. “You don’t need to protect me. I’ve forgiven you for everything that happened. Find solace. Find peace.” Although… it hurt to say these words, she found, especially out loud.
Was this the hand firmly holding his, keeping him from entering the light?
Rumi leaned over the side of the balcony, watching people cross the streets. “Is it selfish if…”
Sussie chirped, landing on the railing beside her. They pecked at her sleeve. Before she could address them, Derpy was winding around her legs with a worried moan.
“Sorry,” Rumi apologized. She pet them each. “This is hard for you both, too.” She thought for a moment. “But… if anyone could see Jinu, spirit or whatever, it would be you two, yes? If you could see him, you would tell me, and I don’t think you’d be as sad as I am, right? ‘Cause you’d be able to see him–maybe talk with him?”
Sussie tilted their head. Derpy made a confused noise.
Rumi groaned. “Guess not.” She fell back, lumbering over to the garden. She grabbed the water bottle, spraying the plants; in her free hand, she fished out her phone. Opened it for Celine’s contact info.
“Should I…”
“Don’t you remember? Confronting her face to face is the best option.”
Rumi huffed. “Don’t tell me what I already know, Jinu,” she said.
Sussie squawked. Derpy’s jaw fell. Rumi… took a few seconds before her eyes nearly popped from her head. She slowly turned around, finding herself face to face with Jinu.
Jinu blinked. “... Wait. You’re looking at–”
Rumi screamed. Jinu screamed. The tiger and magpie screamed. Rumi threw the water bottle at Jinu; it went right through his body, hit an empty pot and knocked it onto the ground. Derpy screamed again.
“You can see me?” Jinu squealed as Rumi cried, “I can see you!”
“Oh, wow!” they both gasped in unison, running hands through their hair, down their faces. “But how!”
“What are–where are–when are–!” Rumi stammered, gesturing everywhere.
“I-I don’t know! Ghost? Your balcony? Present day?” Jinu shouted, checking himself over.
“Why can I see you now?”
“I don’t know! I didn’t make the universe or its rules!” Jinu exclaimed, throwing up his hands. Sussie frantically started nesting in his hair. “Just for the past few weeks, I’ve been kinda stuck at your side but every time I tried to communicate with you, you wouldn’t acknowledge me so I thought, ‘oh, great, I’m a ghost,’ and I was really mad about it and I did try very hard to telepathically throw these plants off your balcony and once a bag of chips at your head, but! Now!”
“I’ve been hearing and feeling you the past couple days!” Rumi explained then snorted. “Throwing my stuff, though, that’s rude.”
Jinu blinked rapidly. Sussie settled down on his head with a happy sigh. “You– I mean, I have been touching–okay, you know what I mean, purely platonic, not a creep–and yeah, talking and I did push you today–but I didn’t know you could hear or feel me!”
“You spoke to me in my dream, even looked directly at me!” Rumi added.
“Yeah, but to be fair, that was a dream. Remember the last dream you had with me? We were riding unicorns made of ice cream on a lemon meringue sea. A dolphin told you it was getting a divorce. It’s not that deep.”
“Apparently it is!” Rumi yelled, throwing her head back.
After fifteen tries, Derpy finally set the pot upright again. The doors to the balcony flew open as Mira and Zoey leapt out, promptly knocking the pot over. Derpy started hyperventilating.
“Rumi, what–” The way they stared in Jinu’s direction with absolute horror and astonishment confirmed they, too, saw the former demon.
“Ghost!” Zoey squealed. She grabbed the water bottle and sprayed Jinu. “It’s not holy water, sh–!”
Mira summoned her weapon, holding the blade to Jinu’s throat. He gulped and stumbled back behind Rumi.
“Calm down!” Rumi exclaimed, spreading her arms to shield the frightened maybe-ghost. “Don’t hurt him! He means no harm! He’s on our side, remember?”
“He really is haunting you, Rumi!” Mira yelled, slightly lowering her gok-do.
“But why? Shouldn’t he have ascended or been reincarnated as a sexy dude or maybe a house cat?” Zoey suggested.
Jinu pouted. “‘Sexy’? Really?”
“Sorry, but you’re not my type.”
“I don’t know why he’s here,” Rumi explained calmly. “Neither of us do.”
Jinu clenched his jaw. “... Right.”
“But he is here, and until we find a way to fix him–”
“Fix?” Mira blanched. “Look at him. He’s a ghost.”
Zoey gasped. “Force Jedi ghost…”
“I mean giving him a corporeal form,” Rumi grunted. She shoved her hand through his chest and he blushed. “See?”
“Wait…” Mira dropped her weapon where it disappeared. “Corporeal form? Don’t we want to send him to the afterlife so he can move on?”
Rumi blinked, only now realizing what she had said. “I… Um–”
“Is… that what you want, Jinu?” Zoey asked delicately. “‘Cause, like, we can’t let you possess people, sorry.”
Jinu bit his lip. “... I mean! Well.” He held out his hands. “You see, ladies…” He grinned smoothly.
The girls waited for him to explain. He just kept smiling silently for fifteen whole seconds, hands unmoving.
Rumi finally spoke up, “Move on, whatever! Just… resolve all of…” She waved her hands uneasily at Jinu. “This.”
“Oh, I don’t like you doing,” Jinu imitated her hand movements and uncomfortable expression, “that.”
Derpy moaned pathetically.
“Aw, man, look,” Zoey grumbled, “you upset the spirit tiger.”
Rumi pinched the bridge of her nose. “... How about we all just take a moment to… breathe.”
Jinu scowled. “Rude.”
“A lot has happened today!” Rumi shouted, ignoring Jinu. “Me realizing I wasn’t going crazy because Jinu is indeed a ghost and haunting me!”
“Wai–”
“And Jinu… being a ghost!” Rumi turned to Mira sympathetically. “And you, Mira, confronting…”
“My brother, yeah,” Mira grumbled, folding her arms and looking away.
“And Zoey, you with your grandma’s birthday,” Rumi said as Zoey spoke over her, “Me finding Baby Saja dying in an alley.”
Slowly, everyone’s heads turned to look at Zoey, each horrified expression identical. Derpy turned his head around just a few inches off, however, but he was staring with them in spirit.
Zoey looked up, looked down, looked up again, arms stiff at her sides.
“Zo–”
“I have Baby Saja locked up with wards in an abandoned restaurant’s walk-in freezer downtown!” She took a big gulp of air. “Don’t worry, the freezer is no longer functioning so he’s fine!”
Sussie fainted. Mira leaned over the railing and stared blankly down at the street. Rumi looked at her hands as if they were no longer her own. Jinu sat down to hug Derpy.
Zoey smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes. “So~ you guys wanna go see him?”
Notes:
If the determined emoticon in Rumi's text message to Zoey is not visible, I'm sorry. It's very cute, though.
Chapter 3
Notes:
oops very long chapter
please forgive any errors of all sorts ;;
Chapter Text
After everyone collected their bearings and shook the brain out of Zoey, the group agreed to put Jinu’s situation on the backburner until they handled Baby. While it was always a risk to travel by the honmoon, it was the fastest mode of transportation.
Rumi rode on Derpy’s back as Jinu flew beside her. Zoey took the lead, skating along the silvery-blue threads doing occasional ollies and jumps by force of habit. Mira was close behind, Sussie on her shoulder.
“... and so I was like, ‘are you telling me TWICE baked these potatoes’?” Zoey joked, beaming and wide-eyed, waiting for a round of applause and uproarious laughter.
“That was so awful,” Mira replied, deadpan, “kinda in love with it.” She cut off Zoey’s smug giggling with a sharp tug of her ear. “Still in trouble, though.”
Zoey whimpered. “Well, I don’t know! I just felt bad for the guy…”
Mira and Rumi glanced back at one another, frowning. In the past, they would have accused Zoey of being foolish, showing mercy to a demon. Knowing what they knew now, however, there was a little hesitation. At least the water spirits who attacked them a couple days ago made it very obvious they had no intention of appealing to their humanity and asking for asylum.
“Is there any reason we should give Baby the benefit of the doubt?” Rumi inquired, looking up at Jinu.
Jinu furrowed his brows. “... He’s a demon, and you know what it’s like–felt what it’s like… But I can’t say we were close. I don’t even know his real name. But when I was scouring the underworld for bandmates, I overheard him singing.”
Jinu remembered that moment vividly. He’d been traveling along a winding river, its water black and tar-like, both bubbling with intense heat and freezing in sections from bitter cold. Gnarled, twisted trees shaped vaguely like contorted, howling humanoid figures lined the other side of the path, branches naked of leaves but bearing withered deep purple colored fruits that spewed centipedes and rot when opened. Locusts dwelled in the hollowed knots that mimicked orifices. Disturbing and gruesome imitations of the mortal world’s natural beauty, a reminder to some of what they once had, and now what they only had.
He’d heard rumors of a reaper who could be found wandering aimlessly among the brambles, singing to no one in particular but was notoriously avoidant of any company. Jinu figured locating them would be like finding a glimmer of hope in this wretched land, but much to his surprise, he soon came upon his query.
Baby had been peering into the water, bent forward, hands clasped behind his back. Singing to his twisted reflection. Jinu didn’t expect a deep baritone from such a skinny, youthful looking frame, but it was fascinating as it was beautiful and melancholic. Baby sang about apathy, about detachment and disinterest in everything. It was surreal and heartbreaking.
Until Baby squared off against his reflection into a one-sided rap battle. Also unexpected, but not unappreciated. If anything, his rapping sounded much more energetic and enticing than his regular singing voice. More lyrics about not caring, about not caring about not caring, fierce and in his own face, as if he were challenging his reflection for a clapback.
“You going to watch me forever, or are you going to step up and take my challenge?”
Jinu jumped back when Baby looked at him with red-yellow eyes and slight protruding tusks. “Oh, uh,” Jinu coughed, bowed, “hey.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but–”
“You’re the one called Jinu, yeah?” Baby interjected. Jinu blinked, nodded. “You’re putting together a boy band, I’ve heard.”
“Yes,” Jinu answered, tension slipping as he frowned gravely. “A means to end the hunters once and for all by going directly to the source.”
Baby scratched under his chin. “Mm. Interesting.” He shrugged. “I’m in.”
“Didn’t expect you to be on board so fast,” Jinu confessed. “I’m not ignorant to how ludicrous this entire concept sounds.”
Baby pursed his lips, leaned over the water again. “It’s goofy, it’s silly,” he said, then looked at Jinu with a glimmer in his eyes. “Sounds fun. And not entirely unreasonable. I can see where you’re coming from.”
Jinu floated over to Baby. “Then I welcome you aboard. You know my name, but I’ve not been given the honor of knowing yours.”
“It’s irrelevant,” Baby said, waving a hand dismissively. “Musicians use stage names and aliases all the time. Once I figure out mine, I’ll let you know.”
Jinu would protest, but if the reaper was content being addressed as “you, turquoise mop” or “hey, doe eyes,” so be it.
“Now,” Baby said, standing upright and stepping right into Jinu’s space. “How about you use that bipa and clapback? Let me see if you’re worth collaborating with.”
Jinu chortled. “Rap is not my strong suit, but…” He lifted his bipa, strumming a few strings. “I think I can manage.”
“Let me guess,” Rumi smirked wryly, “you lost that battle.”
Jinu winced. “Paaainfully.” His laughter trailed off. “I still don’t know his real name, or the story behind his patterns. We were a band, yes, but we weren’t friends. We didn’t socialize outside of scheming or business. When nobody was looking, we returned to our miserable selves.” He looked to Rumi and Mira, the two tossing Sussie’s hat back and forth as the poor magpie struggled to snatch it up. Derpy’s entire body rumbled with glee. “We were nothing like you three. Just apathetic strangers posing and working together for a common goal, that’s all.”
Rumi frowned. “... If there’s a chance we can save him like we saved you,” she said, determined, “then we’re going to take it.”
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Out of the five of us, Baby was the most closed off. He sure gave Mystery a run for his money, but at least we knew Mystery was playing that aspect of his stereotype up to an eleven. Baby… not so much.”
“Then we’re gonna have to crack him open like an oyster!” Zoey shouted back, grinning. “And eat up all that delicious–”
“Zoey, stop while you’re ahead.”
—
PORKSLOP had been a diner based heavily on American BBQ foods. Ribs, pulled pork sandwiches, steaks, chicken wings, and a hamburger that was so big and so loaded people signed a waiver before eating it taking any responsibility if they were to get sick or drop dead. It was popular in the late 1990s and early 2000s, but when a new owner took over, the quality of the food noticeably decreased and their client base hemorrhaged until they finally closed the restaurant down in 2013. Its windows and doors were boarded up, its sign sporting the name and its mascot of a pig wearing a chef’s hat, apron, and wielding a butcher’s knife with unbridled glee hanging crookedly above the entrance. Someone had drawn a mustache on the swine and bird crap blinded its right eye.
“Oooh, my friend in grade school ate the endless ribs platter here,” Mira said as the group approached the shuttered and abandoned building. “He didn’t leave the bathroom for a whole week and had to be admitted to a hospital due to dehydration.” She smiled, summoning her gok-do. “Got a badass tattoo of the pig guy here stabbing him in the gut commemorating his survival.”
“That’s… nice.”
Zoey easily pushed aside panels of wood on a window, following Rumi and Mira inside. Jinu, Derpy, and Sussie simply walked through the walls. Nothing much was left of the interior except a few broken, overturned tables and chairs.
Zoey pointed to the back room. “Gaja, gaja!” She ran ahead, forcing it open. Rumi and Jinu stopped Derpy from following as Mira placed Sussie on top of his head. The two spirits grumped but stayed put–after a few pecks to Derpy’s head.
The backroom was equally sparse. Across the room was the walk-in freezer which was currently sealed with tape and covered in holy paper wards and drawn on symbols. Zoey had placed a busted chair and a few boxes against it for good measure. They jumped as threads of the honmoon around and leading through the door pulsed red.
“The characters are glowing,” Rumi said, pointing to the sigils. “Baby’s still in there.”
“I was very thorough, okay,” Zoey insisted. “I wrote down all of Celine’s instructions about sealing and entrapment rituals annnd I also watched five YouTube videos with clear and concise, equally insightful directions.” She typed on her phone then showed a video of a Japanese gyaru girl practicing one such spell using porcelain dolls and Hello Kitty plushes for props.
Mira held up her weapon, glaring. “When we open the door, if he lunges, you throw your shin-kal at him, no ands, ifs, or buts.”
Zoey nodded, materializing a handful of blades.
Rumi drew out her sain-geom and gasped when Jinu started glowing. “What–what’s happening? Are you releasing ectoplasm or something?”
“I don’t know,” Jinu replied, looking over his hands, “but I definitely do know I’m not excreting ghost goo. In fact, I never will, so let’s stop mentioning ectoplasm. Forever.”
The girls looked from Rumi’s sword then back to Jinu. “When you summoned your weapon,” Mira said, “that’s when Jinu lit up…”
“Hey, yeah! Your sword got a sweet upgrade when Jinu made his noble sacrifice! Really cool, but totally morbid…”
Rumi weighed her sword; light yet heavy with responsibility and duty. “Could this be what’s tying you to me?” she whispered. “Are you… bound to my weapon? If so, then… you’re bound to the honmoon.”
Jinu frowned. “That sounds like a reasonable explanation…”
“So then… you can’t–”
“Yo. If you’re going to stand out there and mope, go do it somewhere else. People are trying to sleep.”
The group looked back at the door, surprised. “So you’re still alive,” Mira huffed. “I’ll give you to the count of three to move away from the door, and if you haven’t, I’m going to send you back to Gwi-ma in two pieces.”
“Right, right…”
Rumi and Zoey joined Mira’s side, all three ready to strike. “One,” Mira said, then forced open the door and charged inside. The girls filed into the room alongside her.
Baby sat on the floor against the back wall. He picked at his shoelaces. “Sup?” he sniffed.
“Zoey was right,” Rumi said, wincing. “You look like ddong.”
Baby winked and gave them finger guns.
“Seems you got away before we could exorcise you,” Mira spat. “We’re here to rectify that mistake.”
“Ah, but Mira–”
“Then do it,” Baby growled. Zoey stopped Mira from running her blade through his head. “Send me back. I’m as good as dead here as I am there.”
Jinu peeked his head in. “I can’t get any further with these sigils,” he said. He looked at Baby. “Just so you know, the hunters are willing to work with you if you let them.”
Baby scoffed bitterly. “I’m not spineless like you.”
“Gwi-ma hasn’t been able to pull you back to the underworld because he’s too weak,” Zoey surmised. “Is that right?”
Baby shrugged, looking away.
“Did you attack the jujutsu master so you could send his soul to Gwi-ma and make amends?”
“Jujutsu wahuh?”
“Heh. I could consume a million souls for Gwi-ma, but after that entire concert catastrophe...” His eyes locked with Jinu’s, darkening. “He’d devour me on sight. Spit me out and eat me up again, and so on and so forth. You might not be able to feel his rage anymore, Jinu,” he mumbled, digging his nails into his arms, “but I can. Even if his grip on me is weak, it’s still there.” The patterns on his face briefly burned red.
“You need energy to stay strong,” Jinu mumbled. “Your human disguise is waning because of it, too.”
Baby looked at his hands. Half his fingers were perfectly manicured, human looking, the rest elongated and sharp.
Zoey said, “You got out of the fight unscathed–”
“Unfortunately,” Mira interjected, disappointed.
“--so why are your powers fading? If you’ve been consuming souls, we would’ve been alerted by the honmoon.”
Baby shrugged again.
“We didn’t get any sign of his presence when you found him,” Rumi informed.
“His energy is weak,” Jinu said quietly, “it could be he barely registers. Minor and lesser demons can survive weeks to centuries in the mortal realm without being detected.”
Zoey blinked, pointing at herself. “And I just happened to be in the vicinity, so…”
“It’s gotta be the honmoon,” Mira insisted. “It’s stronger than ever before, even if we failed to reach the golden stage.”
Rumi stroked her chin, thinking. “Just as Mira said, Celine told us when the honmoon was first created, it was extremely powerful and demon attacks went down considerably for a time. A period of peace and prosperity. But…” She raised her sword, face bathed in its haunting light. “It’s infantile. Fragile. Unpredictable.”
Baby clenched his mismatched hands. “Honmoon, bad luck, what does it matter?” He slumped against the wall, dropping his head back with a tired sigh. “Either you exorcise me and I return to the underworld and become Gwi-ma’s lunch, or you leave me here to slowly wither away until all that remains of me is either absorbed by the honmoon or returned to the underworld in scraps… where in that case I become Gwi-ma’s dinner.”
Jinu shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said. “You can break free of Gwi-ma. Especially now when he’s so we–”
“You got your freedom, but look at the cost,” Baby interrupted coldly. “But, again, do whatever you want. I don’t belong in the demon world, and I don’t belong in this world. Just like it was in the past.” He slouched. “Choose one for me. My fate remains the same.”
Zoey flinched. For some reason, his words stung her. She took a deep breath. “Jinu is right,” she said carefully, “you can regain your freedom. If you’re willing to trust us, we can help you find your place here.”
Although she hesitated, Rumi stepped forward. “I know what it’s like. What you feel and what you go through.” Her white patterns flickered softly. “I don’t know how or why you became a demon, but I am willing to hear you out.”
Baby glared, exhausted. “You’re pitying me. Cute.”
“No, we’re–”
“Yes, you are!” Baby snarled, sending a wave of faint red through the honmoon threads. His eyes wild and wide. “As the barrier bore down on me, I clawed and fought my way to get out; all my desperation! All my strength and energy! I got out, I got out! But I guess it didn’t matter in the end.”
The girls watched him quietly. He slid back against the wall, burying his face in his hands.
“Okay,” Rumi exhaled, resigned, “huddle up, outside.”
Mira followed, but Zoey hesitated. She raised a hand, opened her mouth to speak– No. Not right now. With a heavy heart, she followed the others out, sealing and locking the door behind her.
“How do we wanna handle this?” Rumi asked, looking between the girls. “I want everyone’s opinions.”
“I’m not a fan of the guy, but…” Mira shifted uncomfortably, brows knitting. “It feels… weird, just cutting him down like this.”
“You heard what he said in the end,” Zoey pleaded, “the way he got so upset… Clearly he’s afraid and knows if he goes back he’s going to die. Like, die-die.”
“Demons aren’t exactly fond of the underworld, and they’re scared crapless of Gwi-ma,” Mira explained, “so why would they ever want to go back? He doesn’t want to amend his sins or turn over a new leaf like Jinu… He just doesn’t wanna go home and get yelled at by daddy.”
“True…”
“Jinu,” Rumi said, looking him square in the eye, “you’d know him better than anyone.”
“Which I told you isn’t very much…”
“But do you think he’d be willing to change?” Rumi pressed.
Jinu sighed. “I honestly don’t know,” he confessed reluctantly. “And I don’t want to hold his fate in my hands. Even a demon at its most lowest and cruelest suffers from something–inadequacy, a sense of inferiority, repressed feelings, serious phobias, lack of skills for emotion regulation–”
“Okay, well,” Mira grunted, “we can’t really get him a therapist, Jinu.”
Zoey beamed. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t try talking with him a bit more! Try and open him up by being all buddy-buddy.”
Mira rolled her eyes. “Zoey, babe, I am trying really hard to sympathize with you, but I think you’re mistaking a demon who doesn’t want to get eaten because his boss hates him for a genuine lost soul seeking redemption.” Before Zoey could respond, Mira groaned. “That being said… His body language was weird. He was super defensive. Played it all apathetic. Definitely withholding details.” She took a deep breath. “I was like that with my parents a lot…”
“I think we can all agree that, for right now, we give him time to think,” Rumi suggested, looking for confirmation. Zoey nodded gleefully while Mira just shrugged. “Even if he’s weak, those seals will keep him contained. Not even Gwi-ma can get to him… Right?”
“Those are pretty strong seals,” Jinu agreed. “In his condition, and even Gwi-ma’s, there’s no way he’s getting out.”
Zoey giggled. “Aw, shucks, you guys…” She clapped her hands abruptly. “Maybe it’ll help if we make him more comfortable? I can bring him a sleeping bag and some plushies and snacks…”
“It would be more humane,” Rumi tittered. “I thought I’d never say that about a demon, but…”
“Do demons need toothbrushes? Mouthwash? I gotta bring a lot of water! Wait, do demons even need to drink? Jinu, help!” Zoey tried to grab Jinu by the arms only to run right through him.
Jinu shivered from head to toe, teeth grit. “I did not like that.”
“It’s too bad we can’t bring a tub in here. He looks dirty and stinky. We could wash his clothes, maybe?” Zoey babbled, pacing. “Are bathrooms a problem? Should we get a bucket? Two buck–”
“If you make an offering to him in the same way you would a spirit or deity,” Jinu explained slowly, “he will be able to consume it and gather some spiritual energy. Which might be the same for me, actually.” He looked shyly back at Rumi. “I really want to try one of these ‘Margherita pizzas’, just saying…”
“Are you a hungry ghost? No, literally, are you a hungry ghost.”
Jinu threw up his arms with a big sigh. “Just trying to set up a date…”
Rumi blushed crimson. “Da– What do you mean–”
“It was a joke!” Jinu shouted, only for his voice to break into a high pitched squeak.
Zoey unsealed the room as Mira deadpan cackled at the “couple”. She slid inside, quietly shut the door again. Baby remained sitting on the floor, head in his hands.
“If you’re here to–”
“Take off your clothes.”
Baby shot upright, blushing. Zoey quickly blurted out, “Your sweater! At least just your sweater. Maybe your undershirt… if you want, your pants. I, uh, I won’t look.” She half turned around.
“Why do you want my clothes?” Baby raised a brow suspiciously. “Is this for some sort of ritual?”
“No, no,” Zoey reassured, waving hands and smiling, “it’s because you look like you rolled out of a public restroom and into a gravel pit. The smell… is a little less of a concern, at least?”
Baby blinked only to burst out laughing. He gathered to his feet, peeling off his sweater and tossing both it and his hat at the hunter. Zoey squeaked, fumbling as she caught them. “If you want my pants, you’re gonna have to take me out to dinner first…”
Zoey felt steam leaving her ears before she remembered what Jinu told her. “Mm, wait! It’s not much,” she said, digging into her pockets, “but… It should work just as well as any tangerine or rice cake.” She removed a MyChew candy, showing it to Baby. “Watermelon flavor, too!”
Baby’s grin twitched. “You really want me to get nake–”
“Oh, shush!” Zoey threw the sweater in Baby’s face. Baby immediately threw it back in her face. “Jinu said if we offer you food like we would at a shrine or to a spirit, you would be able to draw energy from it.” She bowed her head and closed her eyes, reciting a quick prayer. Once she finished, she continued, “Since you’re weak and I don’t have anything else on me right now, have this in the meantime.” She held the candy out to him; to their surprise, it emitted a faint glow. “Oh! He was right!”
Baby’s stomach growled. He moved a little closer, watching Zoey like a trapped animal waiting to be attacked. Zoey bit her lip, refraining from calling to him like a cat or puppy. But after a few more seconds of hesitation, hunger won out, and Baby snatched the candy from her hand.
The honmoon pulsed when their hands briefly touched. A wave ran through Baby, and suddenly he was looking out into open farmland, the fields scarce and dried up; he saw a shabby house, only for the door to open and the scenery to change. A young boy, pale and sweating, his coughing heavy and wet, held out a small piece of candy to his big brother.
“... so when you eat it, you won’t be sad.”
Baby was yanked out of the house, from the fields, and back into the old walk-in freezer. He trembled, cold sweat beading down his face. He looked at the candy in his shaky hand; both rage and sadness darkened his eyes, but he calmed himself with a deep breath.
“Did it work?” Zoey asked, her voice small and face pale.
Baby cleared his throat, sniffed. He unwrapped the candy and popped it in his mouth. At least his stomach was quiet now, easing off that gnawing edge. “... Yeah,” he mumbled. “Worked fine.”
“Ah… good.”
“By the way,” Baby hummed. Zoey blinked, curious. With one swift tug of his hand, he removed his pants and tossed them at the hunter.
Zoey screamed, and immediately Rumi and Mira were back inside, weapons brandished. Their faces turned red seeing Baby only wearing his oversized undershirt, socks, and Doraemon boxers. “What?” He looked down at himself. “Don’t like Doraemon? No taste.”
Zoey frantically folded the clothes up with unhinged laughter. “So I’ll just wash these and we’ll come by with some stuff later and then when you’re ready to talk then we’ll talk and I don’t want to talk anymore so bye!” She shoved past Mira and Rumi, smothering an embarrassed howl. Jinu made sure to look anywhere except at her.
—
The group decided to return to their flat and gather a few necessities.
Rumi couldn’t help but think of what Celine would say if she knew they had trapped a demon instead of exorcising it. “They’re lying; as I told you, demons only say what you want to hear to lower your guard. He has no intention of changing–demons never change.”
Would she change her mind if she met Jinu? It sent a shiver down her spine. Celine probably wouldn’t hesitate to banish his spirit.
Rumi felt herself get angry, her patterns flickering. She hoped Celine had changed, seen what she’d done, proven demons aren’t always the big bad villains in all those fairytales. If she still considered anything with demonic blood evil… Even if she said she’d make an exception for Rumi, it would only make her more upset.
The only way she’d get her answers was to talk with Celine, face to face. This was too personal for a phone call or text. Yet she wished she’d at least acknowledge Rumi’s concerns. What could she and the girls do? Leave her agency? Stop fighting demons?
“I remember where we got the name Baby.”
Rumi placed a hand to her heart; God, this was going to take some getting used to. She turned to Jinu as he paced the balcony, hands folded behind his back. “How?” she asked, stuffing a blanket in a spare suitcase. Mira was collecting miscellaneous items while Zoey packed a few days worth of food. “Because he’s got a baby face?”
“Believe it or not, no,” Jinu replied. He recalled the moments leading up to the christening. They’d recently snuck through the honmoon without alerting the hunters, blending into the shadows in an alley. They spent a few minutes silently observing the humans that walked by, oblivious to their existence. Jinu had done extensive research on trends of the modern time, a lot garnered from interviews with demons who’d been exorcised by HUNTR/X in the past.
And there were plenty.
They’d already changed into their streetwear, but everyone waited for Jinu to give the signal. Once the last minute jitters wore off, he looked to his team and nodded once. They returned the nod and so the Saja Boys swaggered out of the alley and onto the street, smiling and chatting, acting like regular human men and best friends.
Baby, however, stopped when he saw a woman arguing on her phone, fingers rapping loudly on the handle of her stroller. A young baby was sitting upright, gumming at a lollipop. With the mother clearly distracted, Baby swooped in, easily snatching the candy, giving it a shake, then rejoining the others. It took the child a few moments to realize what had just happened but by the time he started bawling, the boys were far enough away.
“Dude,” Abby snickered, “you literally stole candy from a baby.”
Baby shrugged, licking his ill-gotten goods. “Too young for that much sugar anyway.”
“Wait,” Rumi interrupted, incredulous, “really?”
“Well,” Jinu said, shrugging, “also as a covert way to critique the flaws in the Kpop music industry–but… The candy theft helped.” He peered up at the sky, thinking. “Come to think of it, when we weren’t working or in the spotlight, Baby was often eating candy. An unhealthy amount, that if he were human, he’d probably get the, uh… What’s it called?”
“Diabetes?” Rumi helped.
“Yes, that.” He shuddered. “Probably why he could handle that awful spicy sauce. Gwi-ma would have been delighted at such torture.” Jinu shook his head, getting back on topic. “He seemed the least interested out of all of us when it came to our mission,” he explained. “Mostly kept a distance and preferred to people-watch.”
Rumi hummed thoughtfully. “Well, we all agreed to hear him out, and torturing him for answers isn’t really our thing.” She zipped up the bag. “Still… I’m more concerned about you right now.”
Jinu frowned. “Don’t feel guilty. I know I yelled earlier, but I’m not upset.”
“Why not?” Rumi demanded. “You could be living peacefully in the afterlife, or next in line for reincarnation. You’d be given a second chance.”
“I got my second chance,” Jinu mumbled, “thanks to you.”
Rumi blushed. “Yeah, well, I didn’t think it’d mean you’d be bound to my weapon and forced to follow me around.”
“Am I being forced? Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking,” Jinu reassured. He rubbed his arm shyly. “I… like being around you.”
Rumi’s heart skipped a beat. “I do too…” She sighed, clenching her fists. “But this is not the fate you deserve. So if you can’t be reincarnated, maybe we can find another way to give you a new life.”
Jinu smirked. “A corporeal form? Like Zoey said, the best I can do is bodily possession and I’ve no interest in that.”
Rumi shook her head. “There has to be another way.”
“I don’t know…”
“Not too long ago, we both believed our lives were cursed, that we’d never be free of our shame, that you’d never get your soul back,” Rumi insisted, determined. “We proved ourselves wrong. We can do it again.”
Jinu swallowed dryly. “Y-You really think there’s a solution?” he stammered.
“There has to be,” Rumi said. “And if anyone would know, it would be…” She trailed off, breath hitching.
“Celine,” they said in unison ominously.
“... We need to talk first,” Rumi mumbled, “then… We’ll come up with something. If she’s not willing to hear you out, we can do the research ourselves.” She beamed. “We could probably ask Hae-rin! She trained my mom and Celine. She would know!”
Jinu had very little confidence, but Rumi’s energy was infectious. He laughed and shook his head. “All right,” he said, shrugging, “why not? Let’s give it a go.”
“Once I’ve hopefully cleared things up with Celine,” Rumi exhaled, collecting herself, “we’ll discuss what to do about you. And if she’s accepted me for who and what I really am after all that, then she should be open to you as well. Especially since…” She stopped, feeling a pang of guilt. “I would’ve been dead without your sacrifice.”
“I don’t think so,” Jinu disagreed. He walked up to Rumi, until they were face to face, only a foot apart. “You would’ve survived without my intervention.” He smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing, and Rumi’s heart skipped another beat. “You’re HUNTR/X. You’re unstoppable.”
Rumi trembled slightly. “Jinu…” She reached out her hand, the blue bracelet dangling from her wrist. Jinu saw her hand and without hesitation held out his. Their fingers brushed and pressed together, and a wave of spiritual energy moved between them, causing Rumi’s patterns to flicker azure blue.
“I…”
“I think I might’ve felt or seen something!” Zoey interrupted, stepping out on the balcony with suitcase in hand. Jinu and Rumi immediately jumped back, each standing at the other end of the balcony. Zoey was confused, but not for long. “Oh, shoot, did I ruin the moment? I’m so sorry!” She put one foot back inside the bedroom. “Want me to go? Come back in about ten minutes?”
“N-No, Zoey,” Rumi groaned, pulling her back out. She looked briefly at Jinu who just smiled lopsidedly and shook his head. Rumi sighed. “What were you saying? You felt or saw something?”
“When I gave Baby a piece of candy, our hands just barely touched,” Zoey explained. She pointed a finger between them. “Kinda like you guys were doing except I didn’t wanna so desperately kiss him.”
“Zoey!”
“Right, so, when that happened, I felt this like… shock, or something. It came from Baby. And it felt… sad and lonely. And he looked sad and lonely, even if only for a split second.” She shook her head. “I also heard a voice. It was too soft for me to make out the words, but it had to be a kid. I think they were sick? But that’s where the pain was coming from.”
“A past memory…” Jinu said. “You might’ve connected using the offering. You opened yourself to him, even for the briefest moment.”
“I don’t know if Baby wants to change,” Zoey mumbled, “but I feel there’s more to him than just another run of the mill, soul-sucking evil demon. And hopefully when I talk with him, he’ll open up…”
“If he doesn’t, if he proves to just be a threat, Zoey,” Rumi said carefully, “then you know what we have to do.”
Zoey furrowed her brows. “I know, Rumi.” It was only due to her best friend and Jinu that she even considered sparing Baby. Once she wouldn’t have cared, because demons were evil and only evil, and deserved divine punishment. But it wasn’t only that, the knowledge demons, Baby included, had a propensity to change and atone, but…
”I don’t belong in the demon world, and I don’t belong in this world. Just like it was in the past.”
“We’ll exorcise him,” Zoey said firmly, “but first, I wanna hear him out.”
—
The girls returned to PORKSLOP with their supplies. Baby, having acquired more energy, had returned to his jeoseung saja form. At least he wasn’t sitting around in his underpants.
“Should have everything you need, I think,” Zoey explained, having sorted all the items in three piles. “But if you need anything else… I’ll stop by tomorrow. Hopefully.”
Baby grunted. “Sure.”
Zoey sighed and turned to leave.
“But…”
She stopped, surprised.
Baby blushed. “Could you bring more MyChews…”
Zoey giggled and nodded.
—
Mira couldn’t sleep. Even if she knew she had to get up at the crack of dawn, too much had happened for her to rest easily.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t Jinu and Baby that bothered her the most.
After two hours of tossing and turning and watching videos on her phone, Mira got up with a bitter growl. She put on her slippers and left the room, doing her best not to slam her door behind her.
Mira took the elevator down a couple floors, fidgeting and tapping her foot. When the doors opened again, she went still. Didn’t move forward. It wasn’t until the doors started closing did she shove them open and storm out.
This floor was the fan gallery. Here HUNTR/X displayed every item gifted to them from their fans. And it was quite the collection. Miniature, meticulously painted figurines, somewhat unsettling modified dolls, handmade quilts and beanies and clothing, fanart of all sorts from stick figures to shockingly gorgeous oil paintings, posters and collages and dioramas and toys. A few sections contained official merchandise, but a majority of the pieces were from and/or made by the fans.
Along the walls the girls had taped and tacked up numerous letters and cards. Whatever couldn’t fit was filed away neatly in a series of cabinets, organized A through Z. And although they were all lumped together, there were favorites for each girl and so they were given their own sections to display them.
Mira stared over her personal collection, scanning the rainbow of fan mail. Finally, she spotted a light blue card with an adorable drawing of a roaring Ussuri black bear on the front. She removed it and smirked at the ferocious and cute bear; beneath it read, I MISS YOU BEARY MUCH, COME VISIT SOON with the name of the zoo as a subtitle.
The bear depicted was Jia.
When Mira was a child, her parents had taken her and her younger brother to the zoo. It was supposed to be an educational trip, a way to expand their impressionable minds on the vast world and its many inhabitants… But Mira wasn’t interested in the lectures, didn’t care to read the plaques her parents kept forcing her to. It wasn’t that she was opposed to learning more, but she’d rather do so by observing and by someone who didn’t speak about these cool and fascinating creatures like specimens in a laboratory. Seo-jun did behave, even if sometimes he wanted to follow Mira–however, she’d been scolded too many times for him to get involved.
Mira was like the other children running about, high on energy and amazed by the animals. She watched other parents laugh and act childlike with their kids while telling them all about the creatures, even if some were make-believe.
Then they came to the bear exhibit.
Jia had been housed in her own enclosure. Mira was standing a distance away from the glass, as was Jia across the yard, but she swore they locked eyes. Neither lifted their gaze. Mira sneered, and reacting to her gut feeling, she charged forward much to the dismay of her frustrated parents.
Jia, however, had also charged.
Children cried and adults gasped when both Jia and Mira slammed their paws and hands respectively against the glass, Jia having lowered herself so she could be eye to eye with the human girl. They continued their stare down, Mira wickedly grinning, refusing to look away. And before her father could pull her back for yet another earful, Jia broke the stare and plopped back, cleaning her paws instead.
“I won!” Mira declared. She looked back at her brother holding their mother’s hand. “Did ya see?”
Seo-jun opened his mouth but then their dad was dragging Mira back over for a Serious Talking To and so he stayed quiet.
Jia had been taken from the wild and imprisoned in a dark and damp cellar, left to wander her tiny cell without any form of enrichment. She’d spent weeks in captivity, milked to near death for her bile to sell on the black market. Fortunately, the bear had been rescued before her gallbladder was harvested. Transported back to the zoo, it took months of rehabilitation before she regained her weight and strength, overcoming her illnesses. As the plaque boasted, she had a fighting spirit–unfortunately, she was also highly aggressive and reasonably distrusting of humans. Her fur had grown back but there were patches where Mira could see old scars, some inflicted upon her by humans, others battle wounds.
“She is so badass,” Mira giggled, inspired. “We’re best friends now.” She promptly got reprimanded for cursing.
Mira would be grounded for a week, but she didn’t care. She did stick by her parents for the rest of the trip, however, and listened to them drone out facts and statistics.
Only now did Mira realize Seo-jun had been staring at her the entire time, rather than the bear. Could it be that she seemed more scary and domineering than any old bear? Cooler, even?
Maybe it was a coincidence someone had sent her a card from the zoo. An even bigger coincidence that they chose artwork of Jia out of all the other animals, too. While the bear had been her favorite, it wasn’t public knowledge simply because she never had a good reason to bring this factoid up.
Mira started opening the card but stopped again.
As Mira stormed back out onto the stage, she accidentally knocked a clipboard from the break table. She picked it up, curiously scanning it–a sign in sheet for the dancers. At the bottom, clocking in unforgivably late, was Seo-jun’s signature under his false name. So proper and neat, too.
Mira opened the card. Written inside was a simple, common message she’d often receive: From your biggest fan.
“Aish,” Mira spat, kneading her forehead with the heel of her palm.
The handwriting matched perfectly.
Still, using just a signature wasn’t enough of a reference point. She almost went to toss the card but shoved it back on the wall. Stepping away, she scanned the letters again, zeroing in on anything that stood out as unique or strange.
And she found one. She used a step ladder to fetch it, hopping back down. Another card, but this time of a scenic view from Heungjeonggyegok.
Once a year, their family would visit the valley and stay at a resort; five stars, all class, very fancy. It was also dreadfully boring. However, Mira did quite enjoy the sightseeing, especially when they came across a hill where flowers bloomed at the bottom.
All day Mira had been shadowing her parents, all day listening to them talk about what they wanted to do; they discussed work even though they were on vacation. Sometimes they argued, but rarely did they raise their voices. Per usual, Seo-jun walked hand in hand with mother, occasionally glimpsing back at Mira behind them.
And of course they’d chide Mira for lagging and walking with a slouch. “Your posture is important,” her dad insisted, “if you keep hunching and skulking like that, people will think you’re weak. Is that what you want?”
Mira glowered but didn’t answer. She knew her father was going to reprimand her for glaring and not responding, so if she was going to get yelled at, might as well be over something much bigger. Because God did that hill look perfect for rolling down. Not too steep, nothing she knew would hurt her if she was careful. She was careful-ish.
Her dad got as far as “young lady” in his tongue-wagging before Mira darted off and rolled down the hill, cackling and cheering the entire time. Her parents looked mortified, running to the edge of the path. When she landed, she sat up, her hair and clothes a mess, covered in mud and grass stains. She thought she saw Seo-jun smile but then mother was forcing him back for his safety.
Mira recognized the hill depicted on the card. This had been the spot. She opened it, and once more in matching handwriting was another run of the mill greeting. Hope you have a fun year.
It didn’t make any sense. Why did he care? Why did he reach out? There were times, like the ones she’d just recalled, where it seemed her brother wanted to play with her, join her in the fun, but then she remembered all the moments where he turned his back on her, where he refused to speak up and defend her, where he echoed their parents’ sentiments without even looking her in the eye.
Was it a tour Seo-jun wanted, or something else? After all, it was commonplace for groupies, con artists, and gold diggers to latch onto celebrities, using their close status to earn them fame of their own, regardless if they deserved it or not. Was he hoping to get something out of her? Was he hoping to get a sliver of her spotlight to showcase his own abilities and talents? As far as she knew, he didn’t have any of those, or remarkable hobbies. He’d been buried in school work and had no time for "frivolous nonsense”.
Mira fumed. Maybe that was his real reason for re-emerging in her life. Even infuriated and disgusted at the possibility, Mira hung the card back up.
“Whatever,” she hissed, marching back into the elevator. She punched the CLOSE DOOR button, nearly jamming it. “I don’t even care.”
—
The next few days were packed with work. During the day the girls practiced their choreography and rehearsed their songs, and at night they were quick to crash. There’d been no demon attacks, but Zoey still had one to deal with.
“Now you look like ddong,” Baby taunted. He was back in his streetwear but with panda socks, curled up in a fuzzy pink blanket and filing his nails with a bedazzled emery board.
Zoey groaned, too exhausted to argue. “MyChewwwws…” she mumbled, letting them fall from her hands. “ForYoooous…”
Baby raised his head. “Uh, are you dying or has your brain given out?”
She shook her head slowly, jaw slack. “Can still kick your b-butt,” she slurred. She unceremoniously dropped to a sit in front of him, spilling out the contents of her back pack. Two apples, a bottle of iced tea, and a small bag of cookies. “Here. Brought more offerings or whatev.”
Baby snatched them up, gobbling down the MyChews and cookies first. He purred, licking and sucking his claws clean. “Those cookies, damn,” he smirked, “bring more of those.”
Zoey blinked out of her stupor. “The dasik? You liked them?”
“Obviously.”
Zoey blushed. “My halmoni made them!” she declared proudly.
Baby tilted his head. “Good for her, I guess?” he replied blandly.
“You could say ‘thank you, hunter-nim, for the delicious and nutritious food and all you do, you have the cutest smile,’” Zoey lectured.
“Eh, your smile is okay,” Baby teased.
Zoey puffed out her cheeks. “Demons have no manners, I forgot.” She rolled the iced tea and fruit over. “You gotta eat more than junk food, yanno.”
Baby cocked a brow. “Do I?”
Zoey admittedly didn’t know. “Jinu said you were always eating candy,” she stated, recalling that voice she heard, the blurry vision, “is there a reason you love sweets so much…”
Baby shrugged. “Just do.”
“Do they make you happy?”
Baby’s eyes darkened. “That’s none of your business,” he snapped.
“It is, actually,” Zoey hissed back. “None of us like imprisoning you here, but we also want to give you a chance to tell your story.”
“What if I don’t have a sob story? A tragic past? Do I need some sort of valid reason for wanting to survive and not return to the underworld?” Baby growled. “Because I do: I don’t want Gwi-ma to absorb my life essence, permanently.”
Zoey wriggled uneasily; he had a point. “No, but…”
“I want to survive. That’s my story. I’ve got nothing else.”
“I don’t really believe that, not entirely,” Zoey argued, “I think…” She furrowed her brows, chewing her lip. “Can I touch you?”
Baby snorted. “I’d rather you not.”
“I thought you might say that,” Zoey hummed. She slowly withdrew a box of chocolate and strawberry pepero sticks from the front pocket of the bag. Baby gasped, eyes as wide as tea saucers. “Oh, yeah. Knew you’d like this.”
Baby cleared his throat and wiped the desperate expression from his face. “Not that I need it, nor do I want it,” he stated matter-of-factly, “... but what do you want.”
“When you took the MyChew the other day,” Zoey explained delicately, “I… might’ve felt something. Seen something. I think for a moment we were connected.”
All the color drained from Baby’s face. “In that case,” he said firmly, “keep your mouthwatering pretzel sticks.”
Zoey shook her head. “I don’t mean to intrude,” she reassured, “but if–”
“I don’t know what you think you heard or saw or felt, but nothing happened when I took the candy,” Baby replied obstinately.
“Liar, liar, pants on hellfire.”
“My feelings and my thoughts are my own,” Baby growled, “and they’re not yours to see.”
Zoey bit her tongue. Her training had taught her how to put up perfect, flawless facades, to build walls too massive for anyone to climb. That, and she’d known Mira for a long time and had seen those protective fields crumble away the closer they bonded as hunters, bandmates, and sisters.
Baby was surrounded by mile high and heavily fortified walls; he might as well be at the heart of a giant maze.
Zoey slid the pepero over.
Baby looked from the offering to the hunter. “I told you–”
“Take it,” Zoey insisted nonchalantly. “I don’t want it, so you can have it.”
“Is this another trick?”
“No,” Zoey replied, “nor was washing and giving you back your clothes and making you comfortable here a trick either.”
Baby frowned. He slowly picked up the box, hid it under the blanket. “I’m not thanking you,” he mumbled.
“You don’t have to.”
“I’m still a prisoner.”
“And we really ought to exorcise you to keep the world safe,” Zoey stated, “but here we are.” She looked around the sealed room; they’d given him battery powered paper lanterns in the shape of cat heads. “It’s a lot nicer in here, actually.”
Baby didn’t bother to respond, his hands nervously squeezing the box.
“Mm. I might be absent for a few days again, but along with the rice cakes and honey butter chips, you should be settled ‘til then!”
Baby sat back, letting the blanket slide off his shoulders. “Whatever,” he snorted, “you’re keeping me safe from Gwi-ma in the end. It’s your loss.”
“When you were posing as the Saja Boys, did you ever try the chocolate cheesecake from Jagiya Sweet Cafe?” Zoey inquired.
“No, why would I?” Baby did not add he was always too late or busy to buy one before they sold out.
Zoey giggled, clapping. “Oh, boy, you’re in for the tastiest ride of your life!” she squealed. Her phone alarm went off. “Shoot, I needa head back now! Gotta get up early for rehearsals!”
Baby shrugged.
“See ya! Enjoy the pepero! Eat your fruit, too!”
Baby watched her leave, the seals on the door glowing. He stared at the box of pretzel sticks in his hands, and didn’t quite know what to feel.
—
Mira was elated.
The dancers were not only quick to memorize her choreography and positions on stage, they were sharing their own ideas and critiques. Two of them had extensive experience and backgrounds in ballet and ballroom dancing, including Hong Gil-dong’s replacement. If something didn’t seem right or needed improvement, they helped her correct it; if a move felt off or lackluster, they suggested a different approach and a majority of the time they were in the right.
Not all of the numbers for their concert required backup dancers, so Mira funneled a lot of her creativity into this specific piece. The only problem was Rumi and Zoey–they’d been distracted lately with their demon problems. At least things remained quiet on that front, but she knew it was only a matter of time before more managed to wiggle through.
Still, they’d be ready, just as they always were.
Mira decided to step out of the studio for lunch. Craft services brought in expensive dosirak boxes, enough to feed twice as many people. Rumi and Zoey seemed satisfied, having shoveled handfuls into their faces, but Mira was in the mood for something else.
Two streets down, a new pojangmacha had opened up. She’d overheard both Bobby and a dancer discussing their food–according to Bobby their tteokbokki was to die, maim, and kill for and the dancer sang only praise regarding their dak-kkochi. Since then she couldn’t stop thinking about it–among other things. She donned her everyday civilian disguise of reading glasses, black cap, and for a little extra stealthy flavor, a gray duffel coat. It was supposed to rain today, but she’d be back before the storm hit.
Mira took off, sticking to backstreets and shadowy corners, head low without appearing too suspicious. She moved briskly, quickly finding the pojangmacha. It wasn’t very crowded, fortunately; she took a seat at the very end of the counter where it was dimly lit. Unable to decide between the praiseworthy dak-kkochi or the criminally delicious tteokbokki, she ordered both with water to drink.
“Water? Please. Milkis is better with tteokbokki.”
Mira started falling off of her stool as Seo-jun sat beside her, placing his briefcase and umbrella between them. She caught her balance and pulled her coat around her as he gave his order. Once they were alone again, she shoved him hard enough that he hit the counter.
“What are you doing?” Mira seethed.
“I could have been seriously hurt, and that would have drawn a lot of attention,” Seo-jun scoffed. He sat upright, fixing his tie and brushing off his shoulder. “So why don’t we talk like civilized, everyday, boring people, yeah?”
Mira clenched her fists until they shook. “Are you stalking me?” she hissed.
“No,” Seo-jun scowled, averting his gaze.
“Gae-sae-kki…”
“Don’t curse,” Seo-jun chided, “it’s very unlady–I’m kidding, let go of my tie!”
Mira obliged, chewing her lip in frustration. “I told you, I’m not giving you a tour of Seoul,” she insisted. “So get over it and find somebody else.”
“Is it because you’re busy?” Seo-jun asked, taking out his phone. “According to Bobby’s schedule, you’ve got an opening for–”
“Oh my God, where did you get Bobby’s schedule?” Mira demanded. She attempted to rip his phone away but he quickly shoved it back in his pocket. “But no, you know why.”
A single loud rumble of thunder announced the rain; it came down in torrents, sending people running for cover.
Seo-jun frowned. “... Isn’t it obvious I’m trying to offer you an olive branch?”
“I don’t want your stupid olives or your stupid branches,” Mira spat.
“I’m trying really hard here, Mira,” he sighed, running a hand through his perfect, glossy hair. “I sent out a couple cards, but it wasn’t until I saw the Golden music video–”
Mira snickered. “You finally decided to pay attention instead of pretending I never existed,” she said bitterly, “now you want to leech off my fame. Is that it?”
Seo-jun was aghast. “God, no! I’d never do that!”
Mira slapped a few notes on the counter, slid off the stool. “I told you I’m not interested in helping you, or mending our broken relationship.”
“Mira!” Seo-jun snatched her arm.
Mira yanked herself free, nearly pulling Seo-jun with her. “Just!” she exhaled, shaking. She met her brother’s eyes, her own melancholy. “Leave me alone. Move on, just like I did.”
Seo-jun’s mouth went dry. He bowed his head and sat back, didn’t speak another word. Mira didn’t wait for a response; she opened her umbrella and ran out into the rain.
Seo-jun sounded sincere; she could sense a genuine sadness in him, a desire to reconnect… But letting him back into her world might also open the doors again for her mother and father. If she got involved with their perfect baby boy, their only child at this point, they’d immediately go on the attack, wedge themselves between them; Mira could already hear their barbed insults and warnings, acting as if she had drawn him in with her “bad influence.”
Besides, Seo-jun sounded just like their mother and he was a spitting image of their father. It was too much.
It was better this way. She’d found her new family; let the past rest.
Mira stepped into the lobby, shaking off the umbrella. She smirked lightly. Maybe stealing Seo-jun’s umbrella was a little low, but… he could always afford a new one.
—
A week passed, and an eventful one at that.
Much of HUNTR/X’s time was taken up by their rehearsals, interviews, and a fan meet-up. In that time, there’d been one demon attack–three one-eyed monsters attempting to snack on two ladies sunbathing and snoozing by the lake.
They were easy enough to wipe out and the four even enjoyed a nice stroll while the area was quiet and fairly empty, although Rumi did trip on a piece of trash; Jinu went to catch her, only to forget he was incorporeal, and she went diving head first into the water. So as not to make her feel bad, Mira and Zoey hopped in, too, splashing one another until all three of them were soaked.
Mira threw herself into her choreography. As long as she was busy, she didn’t have to think. Rumi and Zoey tried their best to reach out, but Mira wasn’t ready to talk yet. They respected her wishes and said they’d wait forever if need be. It broke her heart a little, but she hugged them tight and thanked them.
However, they did throw an impromptu slumber party for her: pizza and a horror movie. It was just the girls, so Jinu hung out in Rumi’s bedroom with Derpy and Sussie. He didn’t complain; he understood perfectly. Mira smirked; Rumi really had landed a good one.
Mira laughed herself sick as Zoey and Rumi buried their faces into her shoulders, clinging tight to her arms and screaming every time zombies went rampant and flew themselves at the screen.
Everything would be okay.
Zoey, on the other hand, attempted to talk more with Baby. She introduced him to a few new candies and that seemed to please him. He even asked her to bring more stuffed animals for him to add to his sleeping bag. Although she wasn’t sure if this was a ruse, or if being imprisoned had finally gotten to him, but Baby seemed quite content lounging in his new place and playing video games on their spare Switch.
“Your island is too bare,” Zoey scolded. “Open your gates so I can bring you more stuff.”
“No,” Baby growled, mashing buttons, “I don’t have the storage room. Just give me more bells.”
“I have the complete Cute Series customized in blue…”
Baby chomped down on his butterscotch almond candy, cracking it in half. “... Fine. Let me get a damn code.”
“Just add me as a friend!”
“Never.”
Zoey threw up her arms, nearly tossing her Switch. “Hey,” she said, snapping her fingers, “you should get Richard the duck as your next villager. He really suits you!”
“How?”
“Um, he wears a diaper, duh. … I think. Could be underwear, though.”
“...”
Still, they both swayed in tandem to “Welcome Horizons”, and everything would be okay.
Meanwhile, Rumi spent her free time researching rituals, both native and foreign, on how to give ghosts a tangible form without involving the possession or death of another. There were quite a few, but the ones she’d read were all outrageous, dangerous, or just outright fake. Jinu helped where he could, but mostly read over her shoulder and pointed out the fallacies and “rookie mistakes” in a number of the spells and rituals.
Derpy and Sussie kept close to Jinu. Sussie had taken to nesting in his hair and occasionally adding sticks, wrappers, and shiny objects to their nest–none of which stayed for very long. Derpy was glued to his legs and if Jinu ever sat or laid down, the tiger crawled on top of and smothered him. Even as a ghost, Derpy was heavy and Jinu often struggled to get adjusted. He didn’t blame them for their clinginess–truth be told, he’d missed his old friends.
Speaking of (despite having not been friends, really), he wondered if Romance had also escaped, because apparently Abby and Mystery were exorcised. Knowing Gwi-ma as well and for as long as he did, Jinu figured if they hadn’t been absorbed to restore some of his power, they were certainly undergoing very long and very grueling punishments.
He did feel bad for them. For all he knew, they’d been in the same boat as he was. They suffered and made mistakes just as he did. Sharing was hard, and often risky–demons were quite happy to backstab and turn on one another.
“What do you think is going on down there anyway?” Rumi asked a few days ago. They’d been sitting on her bed, back to back, as she looked into one ritual involving “consensual body swapping”. Jinu stroked Derpy’s head in his lap, the tiger fast asleep and taking up much of the mattress.
“Gwi-ma may be king of the demon realm,” he explained, “but there are other demons out there, nearly as powerful as him, who want the crown for themselves. Given the state he’s in, they’re now either on equal ground or stronger.”
“A power vacuum’s been opened up, then.”
“Right.”
Rumi shuddered. “I hate to think what kind of demons are down there that could match Gwi-ma’s level.”
“Oh, I can name just a few,” Jinu chuckled. “There’s General Dae-song, a soldier from the Joseon period who swindled Gwi-ma into giving him unimaginable strength to protect the kingdom. Might’ve had good intentions in the beginning, but he grew hungry for power, and kept half of the souls he’d taken in battle for himself. When Gwi-ma found out, he brought him down for punishment, but the General used the power he’d been hoarding to make an escape. He’s been banished ever since.”
“Sounds like a charmer.”
Sussie swooped down to pick up the bottle cap that fell through Jinu’s head, sat it back in the hair nest. “There’s Wang, a dokkaebi who possessed a norigae before he was banished to the underworld; he’s always liked humans and wants to keep them as pets. So if he can’t return to this realm, he wants human souls in their place.”
“Couldn’t he settle for dolls instead? There’s some really detailed and even articulated dolls you can get just about anywhere. This Wang guy would probably faint if he saw a BJD.”
“Mmm… Gyeol, the sinister and elusive gumiho who was rumored to have eaten a hunter’s liver and killed two more, maybe in the Goryeo period? That’s about it off the top of my head.” The bottle cap fell again.
Rumi sat up, surprised. “There’s a gumiho who killed a hunter?”
“Or two.”
“I’ve not heard about Gyeol before,” Rumi said. “It has to be a rumor then.”
“Most likely,” Jinu agreed, “but I met her once. Only for a brief second, and I never got a good look. The amount of power and hatred she emitted was enough to send me running. Gwi-ma has that same aura, no way was I going near her.”
Rumi groaned and shut her laptop, shoving it away. She stood and stretched her arms and legs. “I think I’m gonna call it for tonight,” she yawned.
Jinu nudged Derpy, helping him off the bed. “Right,” he said, standing awkwardly, “sweet dreams then.”
“Can I ask… what you do…” Rumi bit the inside of her cheek. “While I’m sleeping?”
Jinu narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Do you, like… watch me?”
Jinu gagged. “No! I’m not a weirdo!”
“I’m just asking!”
“Why ask that and not, ‘do you stare at and concentrate on my hairbrush for hours attempting to get it to levitate’? Not… that!”
“Well, I–wait, that’s what you do?”
Jinu averted his gaze, embarrassed. “Once or twice. Maybe most of the time…” he mumbled.
Rumi tapped her lips. “Stop trying to levitate my hairbrush,” she said. She walked over to her vanity, fetching a cherry barrette. “Start smaller with something like this.”
Jinu bristled; that didn’t help his shame. “Fine, whatever,” he grumbled, holding out his hand.
Rumi dropped it in his hand–it fell through and onto the floor at their feet.
“... I forgot, sorry.”
“I did, too, and that’s so much worse.”
But everything would be okay.
—
Man-sik impatiently checked his watch. Tapped his cane with his foot as he stared around the lot. It was mostly vacant except for four black, unmarked moving vans.
“Aish,” he cursed, licking his silver tooth, “this woman–”
As if on cue, a limousine pulled into the lot. Man-sik grinned, adjusting his tea and smoothing back his auburn hair. “About time…” he grumbled under his breath, waving politely.
The limo parked next to Man-sik. He pretended as if he was going to open the back door, but the driver got out and did it for him.
“Ah, it–”
Man-sik reeled back as two brindle Jindo dogs leaped out of the car and charged at him. The one wearing a silver collar bit down on his steel boot tip while the second wearing a gold collar attempted jumping up and into his face, snapping its jaws.
“Hey!” Man-sik spat, swinging his cane at the dogs. “Do you know how much this suit cost–”
“Eun. Geum. Heel.”
The dogs whimpered and ran back to the open door, waiting. A moment later, Celine stepped out; her hair had been dyed and styled, and she wore a massive white fox fur coat complete with nine tails hanging from the back.
Man-sik bowed. “It is an honor.”
Celine nodded curtly at the driver; he winced and fetched her belongings. “Let me see the merchandise,” she said coldly once the limousine was gone.
Man-sik ran ahead to the closest van. “You’re going to lose your mind when you see the labels,” he chortled, unlocking the doors. He threw them open then stepped back, brimming with pride.
Celine lowered her sunglasses. She pulled over a box, reaching inside and removing a single long-neck bottle. The glass was stained a chilly blue; SUNLIGHT SOJU was written in elegant gold Hangul on the label, against a backdrop of a crimson forest and setting sun. Celine’s signature was scribbled at the bottom.
“And every bottle contains my special ingredient?” she asked, turning the soju in her hands. “It took a lot of energy and lifeforce to achieve this amount.”
“Of course,” Man-sik reassured. “One drop per bottle, as requested. You can’t even see them, they just dissolved into the alcohol.”
“I knew that already.”
Man-sik’s grin twitched. “... Well, feel free to check the entire lot,” he said, “the rest will be arriving–”
“Not necessary,” Celine interrupted.
“Ah, um… So then, I don’t suppose,” Man-sik cleared his throat, sniffed, “you’re going to let me in on my half of the bargain?”
Celine glared at Man-sik. He gulped, a drop of sweat rolling off his chin. She snapped her fingers, and Eun and Geum pranced over, each carrying one handle of a suitcase bound in seals in their mouths. Celine ran her hands over the seals, dispersing their magic; the case unlocked itself, top thrown open.
Man-sik licked his lips, perspiring right through the pits of his suit. He looked up at Celine with approval, eyes bulging.
“Go on,” Celine said, “take it.”
With a trembling hand, Man-sik spread open a cloth to reveal a rusted, stained sickle. He couldn’t help but giggle, and unable to hold back, he snatched the sickle up and held it tight.
The response was instantaneous. The sickle rattled and glowed a pale red in his hand; he felt the tendrils of its power bleed into his arm and torso, squeezing his heart. For a moment he couldn’t breathe, his eyes watering and blurring. “What… w-why…” he coughed.
Celine reached out; when she took his hand, the disguise lifted, and Gaeul stared back with ferocious bright eyes. The sickle released another wave of energy, releasing its grip on the human’s heart. Man-sik screamed as his entire body lit up, a beacon of blinding white light.
Gaeul said nothing, sliding her sunglasses back on.
The sickle broke in half, its hooked end clattering to the ground. It turned to ash and was quickly scattered in the night wind. The light enveloping Man-sik dimmed then winked out.
Standing in Man-sik’s place was a creature twice his size. His once lanky body now muscular, skin having turned a frightful red with darker highlights. Horns protruded from his forehead, his oily hair glued to his scalp now standing wildly on end. Tusks grew from his top gums, matching his fangs. Two eyes merged into one massive carmine orb with a thin sickle blade for a pupil.
“By the gods,” Man-sik mumbled, his voice deeper, menacing. He studied his large hands, the talons growing from his fingers. “The power…”
Gaeul flicked her tails. “Revert back,” she ordered, her face shifting into Celine’s once more.
“How?”
“If you can, think real hard.”
Man-sik smirked at her insult, but he couldn’t be bothered to be offended. He closed his eye, envisioning his human self, and when he next opened them, he was back to normal.
“What a rush!” Man-sik cackled. The dogs barked at him.
“Once my ritual is complete,” Celine explained, reaching down to pet Eun and Geum, “you’ll get even more power beyond your wildest dreams.”
Man-sik licked his silver tooth again, shaking excitedly. “It’s going to be a pleasure working with you, Celine,” he chuckled.
Celine smiled. “As my new manager, please take care of me, ajeossi.” She bowed.
Chapter 4
Notes:
Honestly thought chapter 3 would be the biggest one, but... 30+ pages, my god. Anyway, as always, kudos and comments appreciated, please enjoy.
Please excuse any errors you may come across, this chapter is a damn beast. I'll be coming and going fixing things in the future, I'm sure.
Chapter Text
The day started with a bang.
Multiple bangs on each of their doors, actually, followed by Bobby yelling out their names. “Girls!” he shouted. “Girls, wake–” He turned and promptly recoiled and squealed as Rumi, Zoey, and Mira, all seemingly alert, appeared behind him. “Geez! You girls are– No, not right now! You need to see this!”
Bobby took the remote, switching on the TV and flipping through a couple channels.
“What’s going on?” Mira yawned, scratching her armpit.
“I don’t think it’s good, whatever it is,” Zoey mumbled, slowly sitting on the couch.
Rumi sighed. “At least it’s not…” She silently mouthed the word “demons” to the girls.
“Look!”
Bobby stepped back, clearing the view. On the screen was Celine, sitting at her desk in a fancy fox fur coat, dark hair free of its natural gray streaks, lips ruby red with smoky eyes.
Rumi leaped over the couch. “She’s back?”
“She looks amazing!”
“And what inspired you to come out of retirement and pick up the microphone again?” the interviewer asked off screen.
Celine smiled warmly. “My girls, actually,” she said, peering directly into the camera. Rumi, Mira, and Zoey blushed but also felt a slight sense of unease at the same time. “Watching them perform, especially after their reunion at Namsan Tower... It really inspired and reminded me of just how powerful and moving this industry can be. And with the help of my manager Kang Man-sik,” she gestured to the back of the room, the camera switching to Man-sik grinning proudly in a corner, then back to her, “I’ve been motivated to step back into the spotlight and once more bring hope to the people, old and new fans alike.”
“She didn’t say anything about this!” Bobby whined. “And I don’t know why she’s taken Man-sik as her manager, the guy’s a total scumbag! I thought she hated him!”
The girls looked between one another, baffled.
“Well, personally, I’d die to hear you perform ‘Sunbeam’ live again,” the interviewer chuckled.
Celine laughed softly. “Well… I have a bit of a confession to make,” she explained, “I’ve decided to hold a concert at Seoul Art Hall–the date has yet to be determined, however, but it’ll be a combination of Sunshine Sisters’ hits and brand new songs!”
“What?” the girls and Bobby shouted in unison.
“Oh my goodness! First you announce your new single, and now a concert? How wonderful!”
“That’s not all,” Celine said. She reached into her drawer. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t return to the music scene to help support one of my favorite side hobbies.” She produced a bottle of SUNLIGHT SOJU and placed it on the desk, making sure the camera got the full label. “For the past year, I’ve been working on my own line and brand of specialty drinks, and now I can finally share my exciting new product with the world. Introducing SUNLIGHT SOJU! This particular flavor–”
Mira scrunched up her face. “Since when was Celine interested in mixology?”
“Never?” Zoey replied, shrugging. “This is so weird.”
“My, this does look quite tasty.”
“You and your colleagues at X Talk News will also be receiving free bottles, as will you, dear cameraman,” Celine chuckled, adding a second one. “While I do have a supply to share with my associates and advertising, for the public we’ve produced a total of one thousand bottles, which will be available for a limited time in select stores only in Seoul and Busan. The establishments carrying SUNLIGHT SOJU will be listed on my website come midnight tonight. A small amount will also be available to purchase through my online store. Once they’re sold out, that’s it! Unless, of course, there is a high enough demand for a re-release.”
“Only one thousand? That’s hardly enough!” the interviewer laughed with Celine. “Diehard Sunlight Sisters fans are going to snatch these up in just a matter of hours. Who wouldn’t want to add this to their collection? I’m feeling nostalgic already!”
“I hope you’ll find the taste sweeter than any nostalgia,” Celine smirked. “One could say, sweeter than sundrop dew.”
“‘A Lady’s Day Dream’! I loved that song; I played it on repeat all the time when it first aired.” The interviewer gasped. “Oh, but I just now saw this–your signature is on the bottle, too!”
“You’re a lucky one,” Celine explained, bridging her hands. “Only 500 bottles have been autographed. Keep in mind, not mass produced signatures–each was individually signed by yours truly with the utmost love and respect.” She looked into the camera again, her eyes lidded and husky. “Because without the fans, none of this would be possible.”
Bobby blushed. “I-I wonder if she’ll spare a bottle for me…”
“This really seems… totally out of character,” Mira stated. “I mean, Celine was never open about her personal life with us, but… This doesn’t feel right.”
“I’d think she woulda told us about releasing a new single,” Zoey said. “And throwing a concert!”
Rumi couldn’t really say anything, given her track record, but she didn’t care about any of this. The soju, Celine’s comeback–she only wanted to talk to her about that fateful night and resolve everything.
If their relationship was even salvageable.
Rumi wouldn’t leave HUNTR/X just as she wouldn’t stop hunting demons, but her relationship with Celine would become strictly business only. It was a bitter pill to swallow but hopefully she’d proven her mentor wrong.
“And so, what does HUNTR/X think of their mentor gracing the stage again?”
Celine frowned a little. “Well…” She cleared her throat. Bobby glanced back at the girls, baffled. They looked equally dumbfounded by the sudden shift in her tone. “I know there’s been some rumors floating around, but the girls have been nothing but supportive of my choices,” Celine explained. “I owe them quite a lot.”
“Rumors? About HUNTR/X?”
“I’d like to talk about my single, if you don’t mind?”
“Oh, yes, of course! Can you tell us the inspiration for ‘Indulge’? Was Nana involved in its conception at all?”
“Girls…” Bobby mumbled. “What rumors is she talking about?”
“I’ve no idea what she’s referring to,” Rumi insisted. Because there was no way Celine would reveal their secret identities to the public. “Maybe she might’ve misheard something?”
Zoey nodded. “Yeah! We’ve been very good KPop stars.”
“Well,” Mira said, stroking her chin, “I did beat up that old woman carrying groceries across the street the other day...”
Bobby gasped. “Mira, how could…” Tears filled his eyes, bottom lip trembling.
“Obviously I’m joking!” Mira exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “I’m just as lost as the rest of you. We’ve been on our best behavior, and haven't gotten into any trouble. None of us are starting up secret romances either.”
Rumi looked away. Technically this was true…
“Yeah, and the last big thing to happen to us was our,” Zoey sighed, annoyed, “‘little tiff’ at the Idol Awards. But we made up, obviously! And everything’s been clear and smooth sailing since!”
“So nothing’s been going on in your lives that could be a possible source of drama?”
The girls looked at one another.
Well, there was Jinu… But he was a ghost and nobody else knew of his existence outside HUNTR/X. And as far as Rumi knew, nobody had seen her talking to him, thus believing she was talking to herself, thus coming to the conclusion she might be mentally unwell.
And there was Baby… but nobody knew about Baby, either, and believed he’d gone off to some remote place in the world to better himself. Unless that jujutsu master spoke up… Surely not. He probably forgot right away. Maybe.
Mira winced thinking about Seo-jun. There’d been witnesses to her arguing with him at dance practice the other week. Someone might’ve seen them fighting at the pojangmacha. She wanted to say something and looked at Rumi and Zoey, helpless.
Rumi and Zoey, however, understood her concerns. While Bobby was distracted, they both shook their heads. Keep quiet for now.
Mira bit her lip, hands clenching at her sides. Was she responsible for these so-called rumors going around?
“So, please,” Celine said, voice smothering the buzzing in their heads, “tune in tonight at 8 PM for the music video debut of my new single, ‘Indulge’.” She bowed. “You treated me so well as a Sunlight Sister, so please continue supporting me through my solo career. And maybe give my soju a try, too.” She winked.
The interview ended.
“Well,” Bobby exhaled, “that was… unexpected. Did she tell any of you about this?”
“No, not at all.” Zoey and Mira turned to Rumi. “You know her best, Rumi. Did she mention anything about returning to the scene or this new soju business?”
“As you know, we haven’t spoken… much recently,” Rumi answered. She looked down, brows furrowed. “But… As far as I can recall, she was happily retired. And as for her hobbies–none of them include mixology.”
Zoey shrugged. “Maybe she just got into it?” she suggested.
“Maybe… But I don’t think that’s it.”
“Oh, I hope she’s not having some mid-life crisis,” Bobby laughed nervously, wringing his hands, “because my mother, haha, she was always a humble, soft spoken woman, but after my dad divorced her, she suddenly decided she wanted a pilot’s license, dyed half her hair green, and bought fifty antique Buddha statues to bless the house and disperse the ‘evil louse’s lazy, ungrateful energy.’”
“Bobby,” Mira said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “you mentioned her manager, Kang Man-sik. I don’t recognize him–does he work for the agency?”
Bobby shook his head. “No!” he exclaimed. He chewed his thumbnail. “He tried to get employed here a few years back, but Celine couldn’t stand him. He’s arrogant and slimy and he smells like my harabeoji’s attic, dusty with a hint of pine scented cleaner and expired aftershave.” He turned to Mira, eyes wide and watering. “So why would she ever agree to make him her manager? He’d been fired recently from KQ for inappropriate behavior, too! I don’t understand at all!”
“I’m so confused right now it’s giving me a brain freeeeze,” Zoey whined, shoving her fingers into her temples.
“The only way we’re going to get any answers is to speak with her directly,” Rumi said firmly. “And you know we’re long overdue for a chat.”
—
“I overheard… well. Everything.”
Rumi sat down, meticulously braiding her hair. “Yeah,” she sighed, “it’s… a lot.”
Jinu plopped down on the edge of the bed behind her. “I assume you’ll ask questions after you’ve dealt with the more important issue…”
“Of course.” Rumi stared back at Jinu in the mirror. “There’s… a chance she won’t ever fully accept me. She’ll have to, of course, and in order to stay where I am, I have to accept her choices, too.” She clutched her hairbrush tightly. “But if this is how it ends…”
Jinu stood, approaching her. “Don’t stress yourself out,” he reassured. Hesitantly he placed his hands on her shoulders. She could feel another pulse of warm, soothing energy. “No matter what happens, you have Mira and Zoey. And Bobby.” They both chuckled before Jinu’s face softened; he wished he could stroke her hair, feel its silkiness. “And you have me.”
Rumi blushed and wriggled in her seat. “Kinda stuck with you, actually,” she smirked playfully.
“Aw, but I’m such good company.”
“How did it go with the barrette?”
“The bar–oh. Mm. Still no progress, I’m afraid.”
Rumi tied off the end of her braid; she was so fast putting it up, Jinu swore he got whiplash. “But, yes, we’re also going to talk to her about fixing your situation if things do go well. But…” She stood, sliding two more hairclips in place. She met Jinu’s eyes. “Best to stay hidden and not let her see you until I’m sure it’s safe.”
Jinu nodded. “Don’t need to tell me twice.”
Mira knocked on Rumi’s door. “Rumi, you ready? Bobby brought the car around.”
“Yup!”
Rumi took a deep breath, as did Jinu, even if it meant nothing.
“We got this?” Jinu asked, not-quite-nicking her shoulder.
Rumi grinned, determined. “We got this.”
—
The drive to the studio was short, Bobby smuggling the girls in from the back. More reporters and fans of the Sunshine Sisters were gathered outside, waiting for Celine to leave so they could swarm her with questions and adoration. It was quite a big crowd, many holding signs that read WELCOME BACK CELINE WE LOVE YOU and SUNSHINE SISTERS > HUNTR/X which was… a tad uncalled for.
Jinu followed closely behind; Derpy and Sussie had hitched a ride in the trunk, but he ordered them to stay put and be on their best behavior. Each creature whined in protest but obediently remained in Bobby’s car.
Then Derpy caught sight of the dancing HUNTR/X bobbleheads on the dashboard, his pupils blowing wide open.
As they took the elevator up, Zoey whispered, “I’ve got this wicked idea for a cool mukbang.”
“You always win and out-eat us,” Rumi groaned. “And afterwards we feel like absolute sh–”
“No, no,” Zoey giggled, swishing a hand. “With… a friend.”
“You plan to do a mukbang with Baby?” Jinu spoke up.
Rumi took out her phone, pretended to answer a call. “Heeey, buddy. Oh, yeah, that sounds about right,” she replied. “But can we talk later, when I have more privacy?” She loudly cleared her throat and shot a quick look at Jinu.
Jinu raised his hands and stepped back.
“Great, talk soon. Annyeong!”
“Did I hear something about a ‘mukbang’?” Bobby asked, tearing himself from his phone.
“Nope,” the girls responded.
“But if we were being serious,” Mira pressed, “do you really think it’s a good idea?”
“Of course! It’ll be fun, especially if it’s all sweet things!” Zoey declared. Bobby slowly leaned in. “You know, if this was real and all, which it isn’t.”
“You don’t have to respond,” Jinu said, “but you might be out of luck. You remember the hot sauce incident, right? That’s a tough act to beat.”
Zoey buzzed and vibrated, wanting so badly to reply. “... But if we did have this hypothetical mukbang, which we will not,” she blurted out, “I’m pretty sure I could eat anyone under the table. Hot sauce, for example, I can drink just like water.”
“Brave soldier.”
The elevator doors swung up, and Bobby led the charge out. The secretary was holding two phones to her ears, clearly overwhelmed. She just nodded in the direction of Celine’s office.
Bobby let the girls go first. Rumi looked at Jinu; he nodded and stayed behind. Rumi took a deep breath as she opened the door and stepped inside.
The dogs raced across the room to greet them. Eun tried to bite off Bobby’s watch while Geum rushed to the door, clawing it. Celine was talking with Man-sik when she looked up.
Rumi felt her stomach drop but then Celine smiled and stood, approaching her.
“Rumi,” Celine said warmly. She took Rumi by the elbows. “It’s been a while. I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to chat with you all, I’ve just been so swamped.” She then turned to Zoey and Mira, giving their shoulders a couple pats. “So lovely to see my girls. I’ve heard you’ve been working hard for the upcoming concert!”
“You got dogs, too,” Zoey noted, watching Bobby attempt to run from Eun to no avail.
“Dipping my toe back into showbusiness, expanding my hobbies, adopting a couple pets, quite a bit!” Celine chortled. “Office work can be very stuffy, and Jeju reminded me of old times. I’m still young, and my talent never did leave me, you know.”
Man-sik rushed forward, slapping Bobby hard on the back. “Bobby! You still work here? Aw, Celine’s mercy knows no bounds!” he cackled.
Celine snapped her fingers and Eun darted back to her side. Geum stopped pawing the door but continued staring.
Bobby grumbled, brushing off his suit and fixing his hair. “Yes, well,” he sneered, “didn’t think an oilslick like you would–”
“HUNTR/X, babes! I’m so glad you stopped by!” Man-sik interjected, pushing Bobby aside with his cane as he approached the girls with open arms. He licked his silver tooth, grinning. “My client and your mentor is about to go to a press conference, but I think this is the perfect opportunity to take a photo!”
Mira squinted. “A photo for–”
Man-sik shoved a bottle of SUNLIGHT SOJU in each of their hands as Celine instinctively stepped between them. “Something to commemorate the return of lead Sunlight Sister and novice mixologist, the one and only Celine!” He stepped back, fussing with a camera on a tripod. “So let’s get a group photo! Oh, Zoey, turn the bottle around, we can’t see the label–yes, there, perfect! Miraaa, do try to smile, even if only a little. Everyone ready?”
Rumi’s head spun. “I–”
Celine reached behind her back, clenching her shoulder. “This’ll be so nice,” she whispered. She smiled brightly for the camera.
Man-sik set up the timer. He grabbed a bottle as he ran over. Bobby held out his hands to take it, posing with his girls and boss, but Man-sik shoved him away just in time to swoop into Bobby’s place, holding up the soju. “Everybody smile and say… SUNLIGHT SOJU!”
Rumi, Mira, and Zoey forced their grins and stammered, “S-SUNLIGHT SOJU…”
Bobby attempted to dive in front of Man-sik. “SUNLIGHTSO–” But the flash went off, the photo was taken, and Bobby collapsed face first on the floor. Eun took the opportunity to nibble on his watch, tail wagging.
Man-sik stepped over Bobby and checked the camera. “Oh, lovely, splendid! This’ll look great with the video!”
“Video?”
“We’ve got fifteen minutes before we need to leave, Celine,” Man-sik noted, tapping his watch.
Celine nodded. “It was so nice seeing you girls again,” she said, “but–”
“Celine,” Rumi interrupted. Celine looked back at her, surprised. “I know you’re busy, but we… we need to talk. Really, really need to talk.”
Man-sik snorted. “You can speak with my client once–”
Celine raised her hand to Man-sik, shaking her head. “I assume you wish to speak in private?” she asked.
Rumi nodded.
“Very well. Man-sik, girls, Bobby–if you please.”
Rumi glanced over at Zoey and Mira. Zoey gave two thumbs up while Mira mouthed, “you got this.” As they left the room with the two sniping managers, Rumi could see Jinu. He nodded confidently before the door closed–as soon as Geum wriggled out after them, immediately barking in Jinu’s direction.
“What’s he yappin’ at?” Man-sik scowled. “There’s nothin’ there, you dumb beast.”
“Woooow,” Bobby scoffed, “what would your client say if she heard you berating her furbaby?”
Mira and Zoey tittered as Juni slowly backed away from the growling dog. “Dogs are weird sometimes, yanno?”
Rumi and Celine were finally alone.
Celine stepped back, leaning against her desk, arms folding. Eun sat down beside her, panting and watching Rumi. “Well,” she said, inhaling, “what is it you wish to talk about, Rumi?”
Rumi was mortified and for a moment speechless. “What do I want to talk about?” she said, incredulous. “Our last conversation? About these?” She pointed at the patterns on her face. “The things you said to me?”
Celine pressed a hand to her forehead, brows knitted. “It’s… been a whirlwind, and I can’t–”
Rumi gasped, hands dropping weakly at her sides. “I confronted you, Celine, about my true self!” she shouted, not caring who else could hear her. “I told you I wouldn’t hide anymore, that I accepted who and what I was, and yet you still refused to acknowledge me!”
Celine’s eyes darkened. “I see…”
“All I wanted was for you to love all of me, even if what you were taught said otherwise–because you’re my family, Celine,” Rumi said, voice straining with pain. “Everything you told me… was wrong. You were wrong! I hoped in that moment, when you refused to… to end me, you’d finally embrace me for everything I was. Half-demon, half-human, broken, scared, angry, lonely, miserable, yearning.”
“Rumi…”
Rumi held herself, digging quivering fingers into her arms. “But you… it was only the honmoon you were concerned about,” she whispered. “I knew then and there I had to change everything. I wouldn’t continue living by the strict and alienating codes of my ancestors. And I did, Celine, I did change it!” She wiped her eyes, patterns flickering softly. “I’m not sorry for what I said and what I did. Yet I need to know… After everything that happened, everything we’ve both been through…”
Rumi stood tall and proud, frightened but hopeful, expression grave as a tear cut down her cheek. “Do you finally accept me? The true, real me?”
Celine exhaled slowly. “Rumi…” She shook her head and stepped closer. Rumi watched her, tense. “Those things I said… They were terrible. I was out of line. You’ve no reason to cover up who, and what, you are.” She frowned, glaring out the window. “Repressing your feelings, your pain, and all for the honmoon… Choosing to play ignorant and smothering the truth because it was easier, because our rules demanded it…” She clenched her fists, and Rumi, much to her alarm, could sense the genuine anger in her voice. “Such a fool I was–such fools were the hunters before us.”
Celine turned back to Rumi. “You’re perfect the way you are, and you should never have to swallow your pain or feelings or pride for anyone. Especially if they’re in the wrong.” She held out her hands; Rumi stiffened, but did not move away. “I,” she said, placing them on her shoulders, “was in the wrong.”
Rumi felt her knees weaken, and she nearly collapsed; Celine caught her, Eun whimpering as he circled them.
“I’m so sorry, my dear,” Celine apologized, cupping Rumi’s cheek tenderly. “Please forgive me. I love you–all of you.”
Rumi’s heart was both heavy as stone and light as air. Relief washed over her in great waves, and even though a small part of her whispered something felt off, this just seemed all too quick, she didn’t care. This is what she wanted–what she needed. She’d been so afraid of losing one of the most important people in her life, the woman who raised her, the closest she’d ever get to her mother.
Rumi threw her arms around Celine, burying her face in her shoulder as she unabashedly sobbed.
Celine held her, gently patting her back. “Poor thing…” she whispered, stroking her braid. “To be neglected, to carry the weight of the ungrateful world on your shoulders… I’m sorry I failed you.”
Eun placed a paw on her knee.
Rumi blinked through tears. “Ungrateful world”? That made no sense, but it didn’t matter. She squeezed Celine tight and cried and cried and cried.
Celine smiled and hummed. After a few minutes, she finally released Rumi; grabbed a tissue box from her desk and offered it to her. Met her teary red eyes. “Now,” she said softly, “is there anything else I can do to help you? If need be,” she paused to glance at the door, “I can exorcise your handsome hanger-on.”
Rumi was in the middle of blowing her nose when Celine spoke, and the shock sent the tissue skyrocketing across the room. Eun chased after it.
“My w-what?”
“The spirit following you,” Celine explained, “the really cute one with the nice hair and pretty teeth.”
Rumi’s messy, tear stained face turned crimson red. “O-Oh my God, you saw–" she babbled.
“Of course,” Celine chuckled. “So… how about it?”
“No, no!” Rumi exclaimed, throwing up her hands. She stepped between Celine and the door, quickly wiping off her face and smeared mascara. “Actually… it’s the opposite. I want you to help him. Even if he is… you know…”
Celine cocked a brow.
“... You know,” Rumi mumbled, rubbing her arm and lowering her voice, “Jinu…”
“Hmm? Jinu?”
Rumi blinked again, shook her head. “Yes… Jinu, the lead singer of the Saja Boys? The Jinu.”
Celine’s eyes widened with recognition. “Oh, yes! That nasty little debacle.”
“Y-Yeah… That little thing that nearly destroyed the honmoon for good and brought Gwi-ma to the real world…” Rumi felt a headache coming on. It wasn’t entirely unusual, however; often this is how Celine coped–bury herself in work, shelve things that no longer mattered, more or less.
“Well, if you don’t want me to exorcise him, what exactly is it you want?”
“Jinu is bound to the honmoon, to the sain-geom, and thus he can’t completely move on,” Rumi explained, pacing before the wide window, “and so, if he can’t be reincarnated the usual way, maybe there’s a ritual that can help push him along? Maybe provide him with a new body?”
Celine tilted her head. “I would think you’d want him to find peace in the afterlife, leave this mortal coil. Yet you immediately jump to giving him a corporeal form.”
Rumi frowned. “I know it sounds selfish, but…”
Celine shrugged. “If that is what you desire, then I will not argue.”
“Really?” Rumi felt as if she had stepped into some strange parallel universe. “Seriously?”
Celine nodded. “There is always possession of another living person,” she said, smiling tightly, "but that would be wrong, of course.”
“Of course!”
“Then there is the Binding Vessel ritual.”
Rumi’s heart skipped a beat. That sounded promising.
“It’s an ancient ritual originating from the early Goryeo dynasty, but it has since become part of the forbidden ‘dark arts’; those who practiced the ritual were believed to be offending the powers beyond and often died shortly after. Out of fear of invoking the wrath of gods and spirits alike, people avoided and shunned the ritual until it, along with so many others, became lost to time. Well.” She smirked. “Mostly lost.” She turned, drawing a smiley face on the window. “That’s the way it is with most things people try to abandon and sweep under the rug–they have a funny way of coming back.”
Rumi didn’t know how to respond to that last bit, so instead asked, “Assuming it’s not dangerous like people used to believe, do you know how to perform this ritual?”
“I do,” Celine answered, much to Rumi’s delight, “but in order for it to work, you need a body to spare. A vessel empty of its spirit.” She glanced around the office. “And I don’t think you have a cadaver lying around. At least, I like to think you don’t.”
Rumi winced. “So… it requires taking over another body, in the end.”
“One vacant of a soul, yes,” Celine confirmed, nodding, “and then there is the matter of how the binding takes shape…”
“What?”
“Also, it helps make the transition easier if you sacrifice a few animals,” Celine explained, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, “but I know you three wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” She pat Rumi on the head, and it felt a bit… condescending? “I’m sorry I can’t help you otherwise. But maybe Jinu has unfinished business, and once that’s taken care of, he can finally move on. Or maybe he just needs more time to process everything.”
Rumi thought for a moment before holding out her hands, summoning her sain-geom. “Then… can you take a look at my sword?” she asked nervously. “Maybe there’s something I’m missing.”
Celine looked between Rumi and the sword, arms firmly crossed. Eun barked, fur bristling. “There’s nothing,” she said flatly.
“But–”
“Nothing I can see,” Celine interjected, moving around her desk. “And although I’m happy we managed to clear the air, Rumi, I really must be off. I also know you’ve got to get to rehearsals!”
Rumi nodded. “All right… Can we pick up this talk later?”
“Might not be tonight,” Celine replied, “but of course.”
On cue, Man-sik opened the door. “Ready to go, Celine?”
Celine gathered her purse and stepped out of the office. “Best of luck at rehearsals,” she said, patting Mira and Zoey on their heads (much to their surprise), “you’re killing it, girls!”
Geum tore away from barking at Jinu stuck in a corner to join Eun.
“And don’t forget!” Man-sik said, snapping his fingers. “Channel 10, 8 PM! ‘Indulge’ music video premiere!” He made a “knocking back a drink” gesture. “Have a glass of soju and enjoy!” He swung his cane at Bobby, nearly smacking his nose. “Not you, Bobby, don’t want you getting drunk and acting like a fool.”
Bobby puffed out his cheeks, face burning red. Steam was about to trickle from his ears before all three girls pulled him into a group hug. “Don’t worry if ya wanna drink, Bobby,” Zoey reassured, “we’ll even order takeout!”
Bobby immediately calmed down, giggling shyly. “Oh, girls…”
Man-sik bitterly licked his silver tooth, snorted. Celine tugged on his arm, heading to the elevator with her dogs. “I would appreciate it if you tuned in nonetheless,” she said, “but take care, girls. Don’t go getting into any trouble.” Her dark eyes flicked in Jinu’s direction, and instantly a cold chill ran down his spine; the sensation he felt as he stumbled back was akin to having the wind knocked out of him. Celine then turned her sweet, kind smile back to the ladies as Man-sik joined her. “Bye bye!”
Bobby, girls, and even the secretary now juggling three phones bowed, Celine giving a simple nod. Just before the doors closed, Eun lunged at Man-sik’s cane, the doors cutting off his furious yelp.
“Dickweed!” Bobby snapped, blowing a raspberry at the elevator. His phone buzzed, and with a quick apology to the girls, he stepped away to answer it.
“How’d it go, Rumi?” Mira asked, taking her hands.
Zoey huddled them together. “Is everything okay?”
Rumi smiled, but the relief she felt from earlier had dwindled some. “She apologized and confessed she was in the wrong, and told me she loved and accepted me,” she answered, “and I was so happy, but…”
“But?” Jinu chimed in.
Rumi chewed her lip. “I don’t know. It all felt so… fast. Maybe it’s just me, but…” She placed a hand over her heart. “All this time I’ve been feeling rotten and miserable, yet after we spoke for a few minutes and embraced, she just… moved on. As if we’d only just had a simple heated argument.”
“Celine has always had a hard time expressing her emotions,” Mira said, stroking Rumi’s knuckles with her thumbs. “I understand to an extent. I don’t think she meant you any harm.”
“But if you’re still hurting, Rumi,” Zoey said gently, “you should talk to her again. There’s no shame in that.”
Mira nodded in agreement.
Rumi sighed. “Thank you, guys.” She pulled them into a tight hug. “I couldn’t do any of this without you.”
“Happy to help.”
“We got you, Rumi!”
Rumi stood back, keeping her hands on Mira and Zoey’s shoulders. She looked up at Jinu then back at the girls. “I spoke to her about my… studies,” she said.
“And what’d she say?” Jinu asked.
“Yeah?” Mira replied, checking to see if Bobby was listening. “And what’d she say?”
With the secretary busy, Rumi gestured the others into Celine’s office. They filed inside as stealthily as possible, Zoey cautiously shutting the door.
“She mentioned the Binding Vessel ritual,” Rumi explained. “Have you heard of it, Jinu?”
“I’ve not.” Jinu shook his head. “But it sounds painful.”
Rumi groaned, shoulders sagging. “Well, it’s useless anyway,” she mumbled. “We need a spare body without a soul, and that’s just–”
“Messed up,” Zoey mumbled as Mira smirked, “Kinda metal.”
“But beyond the Binding Vessel ritual and possessing humans, she couldn’t think of anything else,” Rumi continued. “I even had her examine my sword for some sort of clue I might’ve missed, but she said there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.” She furrowed her brows. “Although she was pretty reluctant about looking at it…”
Mira grumbled, irritated. “So we’re back to square one, it seems.”
Rumi looked sadly up at Jinu. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, placing her hand just above his ghostly shoulder. “We’ll figure something out, though!”
Jinu smirked tiredly. “Don’t rush it. I don’t want to put any more pressure on you three.” He shrugged. “After the mess I caused, maybe I still need to do some atoning.”
“There you are!” Bobby opened the office door. “I thought you bailed–thank goodness. Are y’all ready to get to work, pump out the jams and bust some moves?” He thrust his hip to the side, hitting a tall lamp. With a squeal, he grabbed it and set it upright again.
“Yup!” all three replied, smiling and bright eyed and shoving down their chaotic feelings.
Bobby went ahead, Zoey speaking up, “Oh, by the way, the dogs could…” She pointed to her eyes then in Jinu’s general direction.
“Dogs are known to have a sixth sense,” Mira stated. “It was kinda funny though.” She whispered, “You looked so scared, like you were gonna pee your pants.”
“Oh, very mature, very funny,” Jinu scoffed. But something about the dogs did unsettle him–then he thought of Celine, and her reaction when their eyes met. He’d only ever felt that sort of fear and sheer power around Gwi-ma; if his heart was still beating, it’d be thrashing around in his ribcage, struggling to escape and flee far, far away.
Then again, Celine was a seasoned and experienced hunter, HUNTR/X’s very mentor in both music and demon slaying. The girls had yet to achieve the same amount of “kills” as she had during her time as a Sunlight Sister. She was known to be ruthless, efficient, and merciless to her enemies.
Besides, now was not the time to speak up, if it were anything more serious. Rumi was still in a fragile state regarding their relationship, so it seemed. Jinu didn’t want to add anymore problems on top of everything.
The dogs, though… He swore for just a moment when Geum was backing him in a corner, the beast’s brown eyes turned a vicious red. The air around the dog shifted and blurred like a heat reflected mirage. It lasted for a split second, but Jinu was pretty sure that wasn’t normal for any living animals.
“No!” Bobby screamed, throwing open his car door. He grabbed the three decapitated HUNTR/X bobbleheads from the floor. “Who could’ve done this? Everything was locked! Oh, girls, don’t look–it’s a massacre!”
All annoyed gazes fell on Derpy sitting in the back seat, drool spilling from his mouth. Sussie flapped their wings and immediately started pecking him–they had no part in the tiger’s shenanigans.
“Bet it was one of those weirdos,” Bobby hissed, shoving the toy bodies in the glove compartment, “the guy holding the Sunshine Sisters Greater Than HUNTR/X sign, it’s gotta be. What a beast.”
Derpy looked back at them with a smile and curious purr, coughing up one of Zoey’s plastic hair buns.
—
Returning to rehearsals, the group were instantly swarmed by paparazzi.
It started innocuously enough–people wanted to know their opinions and feelings on Celine’s comeback, if they’d already seen the music video, if they planned to collaborate with their mentor in the future or open for her concert. And each girl was happy to respond, saying only the most supportive, heartfelt things when it came to Celine and her ambitions.
But then the questions became a little… odd.
“Is it true you plan on adding a fourth member to HUNTR/X?”
“Zoey, are you teaching midnight judo classes on the weekends?”
“There’s talk that you’ve been interested in a solo career, Mira, care to comment?”
“We heard the lead singer of the now separated Saja Boys, Jinu, gave you all your new tattoos and they’re actual scrambled character strokes that spell out 'MINE' when put together, Rumi–confirm or deny?”
Jinu blinked rapidly. “... Seriously?”
Bobby forced himself between the ladies and reporters. “Enough! There’ll be no more comments; we have nothing to say! My girls have done nothing wrong and have been busy preparing for the concert! Now, please leave!”
It took a bit of cajoling and pushing before they managed to get inside the auditorium, Bobby breathlessly slamming the doors shut.
“What is going on out there?” Rumi grumbled, perplexed. “I’ve never heard such nonsense.”
“What a bunch of vultures,” Zoey scowled, but she wasn’t really surprised.
Mira found half the dancers staring intensely at their phones, muttering to one another. “Somethin’ up?” she asked, tossing her coat over a chair.
The dancers all looked ashamed and a little hesitant.
“It’s nothing,” number three reassured, shaking her head, “just a funny vid–”
“What the–listen to this!”
Rumi, Mira, and Zoey ran over to Bobby as he frantically scrolled through his phone. “I just went to post a message on the forum about Celine’s music video, and there’s already numerous threads about these so-called rumors she mentioned in the interview.”
“What do they say?”
Bobby read as he went down the list. “Mira’s been yelling at backup dancers, Zoey was spotted around town posting graffiti, Rumi’s actual hair color is brown but she’s in denial–” Bobby slapped a hand against his cheek, hard enough to leave an imprint. “User XxK1ssM3D3adlyMWAHxX claims you’re all fighting over the same guy, which they believe is the second lead singer from–!”
“All of that is utter trash!” Rumi barked, annoyed. “And, actually, this is my natural–”
Mira called back to the dancers. “Have I yelled at any of you guys?” she asked, maybe a bit too angrily.
The dancers looked at one another then shook their heads.
“Not really…”
“I don’t think so.”
“You can be tough, but no yelling…”
Mira scowled. “See?”
“I’ve only done a little tagging before and that was back in Burbank years ago!” Zoey pouted, stamping a foot.
“And us fighting over a guy?” Rumi rolled her eyes. “Please!”
Jinu, who’d been reading over Bobby’s shoulder, added, “This one says Rumi’s responsible for breaking up the Saja Boys and trampling my heart…” He snickered, amused. “Can you imag–wah!” He recoiled at Rumi’s red face contorted in ugly fury.
“Oh, no, it’s everywhere!” Bobby whined, fidgeting. “There’s a hashtag on BlueBird called #HUNTR/XD/RTYLAUNDR/Y… The third slash makes no sense! But there’s more gossip about you guys fighting, having secret flings, and I don’t know why this person Ms Cocoa Nutte Butour assumes you’re all involved in the illegal pet trade business selling slow lorises to fellow celebrities.”
The girls took out their own phones, each checking a different social media platform.
“Naver is saying,” Mira grumbled, appalled, “I’m still in a relationship with Romance and Abby! What! We weren’t even dating in the first place!”
Zoey whimpered. “Insta claims I’ve stolen lyrics from lesser known artists…”
Rumi’s heart caught in her throat as she said, “And TikTok heard rumors Celine was thinking of removing us from the agency…”
“Where did they come up with all of these ideas?” Jinu asked, baffled. “Most of them are obviously false, but a lot of people are agreeing with them, too…”
Bobby wept as he turned to the girls. “User 420lolwafflepenguinXD69 said my mustache looks like I glued spare clippings of my hair to my upper lip and called it a day. Is… Does it really look that bad?” He touched his mustache lightly.
“No!” the three shouted.
Bobby was instantly relieved.
“Which of these rumors was Celine referring to?” Mira pondered. “I don’t suppose you asked her about it, Rumi?”
Rumi wilted. “No. After our talk, I just completely forgot.”
“That’s okay,” Zoey reassured, patting her back.
“You don’t think there might be some truth to these rumors, do you?” Jinu suggested. He raised his hands and stumbled back as the girls shot him murderous looks. “Okay, but think about it–there might’ve been possible witnesses who interpreted certain scenarios incorrectly. Maybe someone did see Zoey downtown by the PORKSLOP, which has graffiti on the outside. Mira has been meeting–albeit not by choice–with her brother, a man who just appeared out of nowhere in their minds. And Rumi… You’re half demon, so your purple hair does make sense, but to humans–”
Rumi scrubbed her face. “This is a nightmaaaare!”
“Well, we can’t afford to waste anymore time on this garbage,” Mira insisted, switching off her phone and shoving it in her pocket. “I’m done. People can be so delusional.”
Bobby beamed, clapping. “Right! You’ve got practice to get to! Enough of this claptrap!” He pitched his phone across the auditorium proudly. Only to realize what he’d just done and quickly went to recover it.
Zoey and Rumi reluctantly put their phones away.
“When you speak to Celine later,” Jinu suggested, “maybe you can ask her about the rumors.”
Rumi just nodded. How did that rumor about Celine and her relationship spread? The only people who knew there was tension between them was Mira, Zoey, and a ghost. They wouldn’t let anything like that slip–after all, who would they share this information with? It would put them in a negative light, too. Celine probably told Hae-rin about the encounter, but she highly doubted the senior hunter would share this with anyone either.
Bobby and Mira cajoled everyone into their positions on stage. Rumi couldn’t help but stare at the back-up dancers–they knew their names, a couple common facts, but they were essentially complete strangers. Had they overheard or seen something? Were they the source of these rumors?
“Focus,” Jinu interrupted her racing mind, standing beside her. “No worries, just dancing and singing.”
Rumi felt the tension leave her body as she took a step forward with a twirl, singing the first few lines of ‘Her Pirouette’. She made sure to smile at Jinu when she swayed to center stage.
—
With a little pleading, Zoey was able to leave practice a few hours earlier. Bobby had called a driver he trusted to take her to the store and shadow as her bodyguard. She insisted he grab a cart too because she was going to need the extra space for all the stuff she intended to buy.
The driver did not ask Zoey why she wanted him to drop her off on a curb downtown. Bobby trusted and vouched for him, so she didn’t feel it was too risky or possibly giving room for more empty gossip to spread. He did ask if he could help her carry her bags, but to his surprise she picked them up with relative ease and waddled off.
Zoey turned down the street and walked a short distance before arriving at PORKSLOP.
Baby was lounging on his inflatable chair, playing the Switch as he listened to a mix CD on a sticker-coated boombox.
The seals flickered and he looked up, rolling his lollipop to the other side of his mouth. A second later the door opened and Zoey threw her four giant recyclable bags inside, nearly hitting Baby.
“Whoa!” Baby pushed himself and the chair away. He eyed the bags, popping out his candy. “What the–”
Zoey slammed the door shut, reactivating the seals. “We’re doing…” she took a deep breath, then threw up her arms. “A mukbaaaang!”
“Seriously?” Baby cocked a brow. “A mukbang?”
“Yup!” Zoey gestured to the bags before sitting down on a throw pillow across from him. “There’s an equal amount between the two of us, but we’re also gonna make it an eating contest! Whoever eats the most before throwing up wins a prize!”
Baby sat forward, mildly intrigued. “What prize?” he asked.
Zoey winked and stuck out her tongue playfully. “It’s a surprise sur-prize!”
Baby rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, here’s the haul!”
Zoey moved too fast for Baby to track her, but with a few fwips and swooshes, everything she’d bought was placed out on the floor between them, divided by two.
There were kimbap rolls, cups of various flavored instant ramyeon, pickled plum, plain, kimchi rice balls, shredded dried squid, tough and soft jerky, bags of chips from super spicy to sickeningly sweet, cheese crackers, chocolate, peanut butter, matcha cookies, six different flavors of pretzel sticks, choco pies, ppushu ppushu, strawberry biscuits, mixed nuts, chocolate corns and hearts, and a rainbow array of candies, tarts and taffy, hollow and jelly filled, gummies and hard caramel, all to be washed down with Milkis, iced tea, and two 1 gallon bottles of water.
Baby’s jaw dropped, lollipop hitting the floor. “You…” he mumbled. “Are insane.”
“Maybe,” Zoey hummed, batting her eyelashes, “or you’re just scared.”
Baby narrowed his eyes. “I’m a demon. I eat souls. You really wanna play this game?”
“And I’m a hunter. I slay demons who eat souls,” Zoey smirked, folding her legs and slapping her hands on her knees. She leaned forward, her expression semi-unhinged glee. “Don’t you forget, Baby Saja, you and your buddies were almost beaten in that hot sauce eating contest by an average variety TV show host twice my age.”
Baby grit his teeth and clenched a fist. He didn’t know why her comment upset him, but he was pissed. “Fine,” he growled, throwing off his cap and scooting up to his pile of food. He rolled up his sleeves and leaned forward, nearly nose to nose with Zoey. “You’re gonna regret this, hunter.”
“Oh,” Zoey sneered, “I don’t think you’re ready for the takedoowgogogo!” With that, she dove in. Baby gasped but was quick to follow.
The boombox switched to a heavy metal song.
Zoey snapped rolls in half only to still put both pieces in her mouth, shoveled down three to four cookies at a time, swallowing candy without chewing, tossing crackers in the air and catching all of them with her mouth, grabbing fistfuls of four different types of chips and annihilating them.
Baby crushed candy to snort up with his nose, ate pieces without removing the wrappers, slurped up noodles with shredded squid and clumps of rice, smashed cans of Milkis against his forehead and chugged from the broken slits.
Their gazes remained locked the entire time.
They belched fire, their stomachs rumbled with the ferocity of hurricanes, hands filthy and sticky, their faces smeared in war paint (chocolate, whipped cream, grains of rice, chip dust), eyes watering, tongues swelling, shirts and belts suddenly feeling way too tight, candy after noodles after jerky sticks after mini-pies.
Still they never looked away from one another.
Five minutes, ten minutes, nearly twenty minutes of uninterrupted gluttonous feasting, then Zoey washed her hamster cheeks full of food down with water only to choke and shoot said water out of her nostrils.
Baby, demolishing a pretzel stick, couldn’t help but laugh, spitting out crumbs and wheezing.
They both took a moment to clear their throats and take a deep breath, but then their eyes met again.
Zoey, with water trickling from her nose, her mouth hidden behind a giant smear of red jelly. Baby, drooling tracks through chip dust stuck to his chin, one eye lidded.
They both pointed, they both went “ha!”, they both looked momentarily surprised, and then they both started laughing hysterically.
While nobody had vomited, the game was called, and each player counted their leftovers.
Zoey had won by two cookies.
“Yes!” she squealed, jumping to her feet and doing a victory dance. “Toldja toldja toldja!” She shimmied and swayed and pointed back and forth, back and forth at the demon. “Owned!”
Baby groaned, sinking back into the chair. “Whateverrrr…” He burped, rubbing his bloated belly.
“Now for my prize!” Zoey declared, reaching into her back pocket. She took out two necklaces, placing one on herself. “And for the runner up…!” She kicked aside packages and wrappers to sit in front of Baby again, offering him the other necklace. “Your prize!”
Baby sat forward slowly. He took the necklace in his palm: a simple silver chain with half of a pink broken heart with the word FRIENDS engraved on it. “Uh… what is this?” he mumbled.
“Well, since I won, I obviously get the heart that says BEST,” Zoey smirked, as if this were just common knowledge. She held out her part of the heart, taking Baby’s and putting them together. “BEST FRIENDS! See?”
Baby opened his mouth… closed it. “I… don’t get it.”
“What don’t you get? It’s in English, yeah, but–”
“No,” Baby interjected, frowning, “why didn’t you just… have me reveal my past or whatever as your prize?”
Zoey chuckled and sat back. “Because you said you didn’t want to. I admit, I’d like to know more about you and all, because I know what I saw and heard and felt was real… But…” She sighed. “I’ve decided not to force you.”
“That… may well be,” Baby grumbled, “but you’re still holding me captive. Obviously you don’t trust me.”
Zoey nodded faintly. “That’s true.” She stood up, brushing off her shirt and pants. “So.” She unsealed the door and opened it. “You can go.”
Baby’s eyes widened. “Wh–what, really?”
Zoey shrugged. “The food you ate I had blessed with enough spiritual energy that these seals are too weak to contain you for much longer.” She looked out the door. “I know you won’t go back to the underworld, at least not for a while, but if you don’t want to tell me anything, I’m hoping you’ll realize you can harvest the power you need through more kinder, harmless methods.” She held up her heart piece. “If you find yourself getting weak, come to me. This’ll guide you to my side. I’ll give you a ton of offerings. Not that you’ll be needing any for a while, given how much you just crammed down.”
Baby chewed his tongue. “I don’t understand,” he mumbled, “so maybe you did see something, and maybe you heard something, too… But you’re just going to release me among the masses based on that one brief vision? Because Jinu put in your mind I might actually be a messed up guy like him?”
“Yeah, but not all of that, of course,” Zoey explained. “Trapping you here is wrong. And it’s also because,” she paused, then looked him square in the eye, and the chill he felt nearly paralyzed him, the next words out of her mouth spoken with powerful, menacing conviction, “if you hurt anyone, if you steal any souls for yourself or your demon lord, I’ll seal you up in a metal box and drop you into the Mariana Trench. Not even Gwi-ma could touch you–and once I was finished with you, he wouldn’t dare.”
Then she smiled and clapped her hands once. “So, hey, let’s try to get along! You come to me when you need energy, you can hide out from Gwi-ma and live a chill life. Sounds fair to me!” She gestured to the seals. “These’ll be too weak in an hour or two, but as long as they remain up, you can hide out here. Kinda like a shroud, dark but a bit thin; it should work, I think. And you can keep all this stuff, we weren’t using them.”
Baby was too shocked to speak. He just stared at his hands, at the necklace.
“I need to leave,” Zoey explained, forcing down a burp. “I’ve gotta go worship the porcelain throne on my knees for an hour.”
“The wha–” But when Baby looked up again, she was gone.
Zoey stepped outside the abandoned restaurant, ordering an immediate emergency pick-up from the same driver. She glanced up at the boarded windows.
“Oh!” Zoey snapped her fingers. From her other pocket she removed a chocolate coated peanut. She tossed it high into the air where Sussie swooped down and ate it, briefly glowing contentedly from the burst of spiritual energy. “Use at least half those eyes to keep me updated! Countin’ on you, buddy!”
Sussie perched on one of the streetlamps across the street, statuesque and vigilant.
–
With rehearsals and practice done for the day, Mira and Rumi returned to their flat. They hadn’t been lying about watching the music video premiere with Bobby; they told him to come back in a couple hours and by then they’d have snacks and drinks ready. It was all a bit much for what was probably a 3 minute long video, but it was important and they did want to support Celine. That, and Bobby could use the break.
Mira took a shower and pulled on a loose long sleeved top and pajama bottoms. She collapsed on her bed and for a minute or two stared at the ceiling.
She really shouldn’t, but…
Mira sighed and took out her phone. She shouldn’t care about all these lies flying around, but out of the three girls, she felt any plausible rumor would be connected to her and her few brief encounters with Seo-jun. If that was the case, she’d feel horrible for putting so much stress on Zoey and Rumi.
Mira doomscrolled, checking the new gossip churned out by the rumor mill. Fortunately, they seemed to have bled themselves dry of any creative new ideas, but that could change at any minute. It took just one juicy white lie to fan the flames and add more onto these baseless conspiracies.
What was Celine thinking when she made that comment about the rumors? She shouldn’t have said anything, it was completely irrelevant. It was uncharacteristically unprofessional, and if she was that concerned about all this bullshit, she would have immediately gone to the girls in private and demanded an explanation, worked the problem out, and cleared the air.
The old Celine would have been appalled at the interview.
This new Celine was… more relaxed, laid back but motivated and inspired to pursue her own desires and dreams once more. She brought up rumors, sounded concerned, and yet didn’t even bother to ask the girls what was going on. Mira could understand why Rumi felt their talk and subsequent mending of their relationship felt rushed and awkward.
Mira massaged her forehead. Rumors about Mira when it came to her interactions with men were mostly limited to known faces and industry names, and really not much about rendezvouses with mystery dates. Thank goodness for some sliver of hope.
Mira dropped her phone over the side of the bed and rolled over, burying her face into her pillow and screaming.
Her phone jingled a few seconds later. A new text message.
Reluctantly, Mira fetched her phone. The number attached to the message was listed as UNKNOWN. A part of her wanted to just delete it without reading, but… Well, since when was she listening to logic tonight.
She opened the message.
She really wished she hadn’t.
It wasn’t that she was angry–no, she was more upset. As soon as she saw the picture, her heart dropped into her stomach, and any fury that had started to bubble instantly iced over. She didn’t really know what to feel.
It was a picture of an old photo. Mira as a child with her baby brother in her arms. Seo-jun was laughing gleefully and pulling on her pigtails. She was giggling with him and pretending to tug out fistfuls of his short fuzzy hair. It was candid and raw, so unlike the deliberate, empty, clinical photos her parents often displayed and preferred. In those photos, Mira never smiled–that Mira was a falsehood.
This picture captured her true self. And this Mira loved her stinky little baby brother.
Another message was quick to follow.
I don’t know what’s going on right now, but I’m here if you want to talk. I’m sorry for being so intrusive, but this’ll be my final attempt to reconcile with you. If you tell me to stop, I promise to stop, and you’ll never see or hear from me again–if that is what you want, I’ll respect your decision. If you are, however, open to hearing me out just one last time, I want to talk to you face to face in private. I’ll let you choose the location and time, of course. No rush to respond.
“What a cheap tactic,” Mira growled, scrolling back up to the photo.
But it worked.
Mira started typing her response, but stopped halfway. Thought for a moment before deleting it.
It worked, but he could wait a little longer. No rush, after all.
—
“Since it works for demons,” Rumi said, stepping out on the balcony, “I figured we could use the same method for you.”
Jinu looked up from scratching Derpy’s stomach, the tiger stretched out on his back and loudly purring. Rumi placed a shot glass of soju and saucer with a red bean sweet bun in front of him. “Is this… an offering?” he asked.
“Yup,” Rumi replied. She shook her head. “I don’t know why I didn’t think about it before, but you are a spirit, so…” She took a seat beside him, playfully swinging Derpy’s tail. “Give it a try.”
Jinu chuckled; he reached down, expecting his fingers to slide right through the bun... only for him to grab onto it. Both of them gasped, Derpy raising his head. He could feel its texture, could even smell it. He lifted the bun, only for a duplicate copy to remain on the plate.
“Huh,” Rumi mumbled, poking the sweet bun. “I suppose that’s how spirits eat offerings.”
Jinu took a slow bite of the bun; the flavor filled his mouth, and he groaned with pleasure, eyes rolling back. “Scho good…” he hummed, then took two more big bites.
“Since that works,” Rumi said, excited, “we can try other foods! Is there anything you really want to eat?”
Derpy reached over, rolling the bun on its side.
“I did say margherita pizza, but I wouldn’t mind bindaetteok and chocolate ice cream,” Jinu answered. He finished the bun, sucking his fingers clean.
“I can get those easily,” Rumi chuckled. She watched in silence as Jinu next tried the shot of soju–rather its spiritual duplicate. He gulped it down with a low hhhhiss and shake of his head. She smiled. “... When we finally figure everything out,” and she need not explain what “everything” meant, “are there any places you want to go?”
Jinu thought it over, licking the shot glass clean. “I’ve heard everyone go nuts about this place called–”
“Lotte Land? Everland?”
“--Gangchon Rail Park,” Jinu smirked. “Heard it’s lovely and has gorgeous scenery.” He sat back, tapping a foot. “Mmm… Wouldn’t mind trying out one of the water parks. Ahh… Snoopy Garden… Probably swing by Gyeongju World…”
“Besides theme parks,” Rumi pressed.
“Theme parks are all the rage with humans these days,” Jinu explained, “... I think?” He shook his head, his smile fading a little. “I guess visit my old village, see what’s become of it. Maybe…” He didn’t want to say it, hands curling into half-fists. Maybe visit my mom and sister’s burial sites, if they even have any. Apologize for turning my back on them all those centuries ago.
“I understand,” Rumi reassured, placing a hand next to his. Although he hadn’t said anything, she was clever, and Jinu appreciated her catching on without him needing to speak it aloud. “I can always do a search online and see?” she offered.
Jinu shook his head again. “Maybe later. When, you know, ‘things’ are taken care of.”
“How about we go to the aquarium?” Rumi suggested. “It’s beautiful, and they’ve got such a vast collection of animals and plants. Really neat stuff.”
Jinu smiled again. “Definitely! I almost went to one during our time as the Saja Boys,” he explained. “We were doing a meet and greet. I went outside for a break; across the street was an aquarium. There was this sign that immediately caught my attention: two dolphins leaping and crossing to form a heart shape. In that space was another sign: 50% OFF FOR COUPLES, TODAY ONLY. And I thought, ‘heh, I should bring Rumi here.’”
Rumi reclined back, eyes wide and cheeks tinted pink. Jinu gasped and raised his hands, laughing nervously, “For the discount, for the discount!”
“Posing as a couple would’ve been a disaster,” Rumi groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“You sound like Bobby,” Jinu teased. “But, yes… I’d like to visit an aquarium one day. So many new animals have been discovered, some I would’ve probably thought were monsters or demons during my time.”
Rumi snickered. “You sound like such a grandpa.”
“I think I look damn good for a 400 year old grandpa, that’s for sure,” Jinu laughed.
Rumi hummed. She turned her gaze to the twinkling stars and the distant rain clouds. “What about the world? Outside of Korea. There’s so much of this big blue planet you’ve yet to experience, you shouldn’t limit your scope to just this country.”
“That implies I’d have the money to travel aboard,” Jinu said. “But… America, maybe? Japan… Uhhh, somewhere really remote, really far from here.”
“You probably gotta jump through a few hoops,” Rumi explained, “but I suppose Antarctica would fit the bill.”
“A former KPop idol wouldn’t be my ticket in?”
“I’d say no, but you’d be surprised…”
Jinu watched a plane fly overhead. “Humans have managed to reach the heavens. It’s amazing. I think I’d want to travel the stars.”
“Give it another century,” Rumi replied. She looked over at Jinu, his warm dark eyes, soft smile, the glow about him… She blushed again. “Um… I don’t suppose you’d wanna do something else in the meantime?”
“Huh?”
Rumi hopped onto the balcony railing, doing a spin. She dipped her foot over the side, brushing the honmoon threads. “We did it before,” she said and skipped out into the open air. “It’ll probably be easier now as a spirit.”
Jinu was quiet, studying Rumi. She was in shorts and t-shirt, showing more of her patterns. In contact with the honmoon they glowed; her eyes, too, seemed to shimmer. A cool breeze swept by, and Rumi gently brushed a couple loose locks of hair behind her ear.
“C’mon,” Rumi said, taking a few steps up into the sky.
Jinu shook off his stupor. He smiled and floated off the balcony with ease, joining Rumi’s side. Derpy watched them curiously, head tilted.
“It’s nice up here,” Jinu mumbled, staring down at the city lights below. The sun had nearly finished setting. He looked up again and found Rumi’s face mere inches from his, causing him to jump and the honmoon threads to tremble.
“Yeah, the view is wonderful,” Rumi said, leaning an inch closer. “See that spire over there?” She pointed out the building a yard or two away.
“Uh, yes?”
Rumi sneered. “I win, you gotta drink an offering of bottled kimchi and chili spiced pickles!” She then slapped Jinu through the arm. “Go!”
Rumi half-darted, half-flew forward. Jinu chased after her, soaring fast through the air.
The two laughed, nearly racing neck and neck. Rumi leaped back and forth on the honmoon’s dips and arcs, elegant but playful. Jinu flew by, dragging his hand along the threads where they flickered under his ghostly touch.
Rumi was closing in on the spire, Jinu only a few feet behind. She looked back at him, laughing breathlessly, her wide smile lighting up her entire face.
Jinu shivered, but not out of fear; she was… breathtaking. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And the way the stars framed her, the threads dancing under feet, she was absolutely resplendent. He was reminded of old paintings of celestial maidens dancing and playing their instruments in the heavens, dressed in silken hanbok and jeogori, skirts trailing behind them, wrapped in elegant shawls.
Jinu held out a hand; he knew it was useless, he couldn’t touch her, but he could pretend. To feel her would be like grasping starlight. It was silly, but in the moment, all he wanted was to embrace her and tell her all the things he felt, all the words he hadn’t yet managed to say–
Jinu lunged forward, and grabbed her hand.
By Rumi’s astonished expression, by the undeniable warmth of her soft skin…
They looked at their connected hands; threads weaved around them, dispersed in short waves of divine energy.
“Jinu…” Rumi whispered, jaws working open and closed. “Your hand…” She gave an experimental squeeze–she felt it, he felt it, and she laughed shakily, tears in her eyes. “Oh, wow, I–”
“I love you, Rumi,” Jinu said.
Rumi looked at him, wide-eyed and cheeks flushed.
Jinu swallowed and wrapped their fingers together. “I need to say it. I think I fell for you shortly after we met, to be honest, but everything was so mixed up and strange and I wasn’t sure of my feelings then.” He inhaled, looked her right in the eyes–serious, determined. “But I know now.”
“You… love me?” Rumi murmured.
Jinu smirked bashfully. “Yeah. I love you.” He took her hand in both of his. “I don’t want to ruin what we have, so if you–”
Rumi flew into his arms, hugging him. It took Jinu a moment, looking down at her in surprise. Before he could return the embrace, she pulled back just enough to meet his gaze and say, “I love you, too, Jinu.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him and both her patterns and the honmoon around them pulsed and fluttered like her heartbeat, enthusiastic and strong.
Jinu sealed the remaining space between them, holding her tight in his arms, as if letting her go would mean the end of this dream.
She loved him. He loved her. If this was to be his happy ending, he wouldn’t change it for the world.
An eternity went by in a matter of seconds before they broke the kiss. They opened their eyes, and both of them smiled contentedly. Jinu and Rumi rested their foreheads against one another and sighed, holding hands as they floated weightlessly in the starry night sky.
Heaven, here all along.
They both looked up at the sound of a familiar roar. Fifteen feet away, Derpy clung to the spire, clawing at it like a cat post. He grinned and purred, blinking one eye then the other.
Rumi and Jinu laughed.
“Guess we both lost,” Rumi said.
“Looks like we’ll be splitting those pickles, too.”
The honmoon shuddered, but there was no joy in its light–a sickly purple-red leading to the source of its tear.
Rumi gasped, pulling away from Jinu. “Ugh!” she growled. “Seriously? Demons are the worst!”
Jinu tittered. “Yeah, I get it.”
—
Rumi and Jinu rode Derpy to the demons’ location. Mira and Zoey joined them a few minutes later.
“Maaan,” Zoey groaned, patting her belly, “and I just got my tummy to calm down, too…” She held up her necklace; if this was Baby attacking, the red thread connecting them would’ve led in the same eastern direction as the honmoon’s path; it remained tied to the southwest, the general area of PORKSLOP. This could also mean he left the necklace behind, however, but Sussie would have notified her immediately.
“Bobby just came over, too,” Mira scowled. “I told him we were picking up last minute orders.”
Jinu checked Mira’s watch. “Twenty minutes ‘til the video premiere. Think you can wrap it up by then?”
Rumi cracked her knuckles as Zoey and Mira drew out their weapons. “We’ll be done in five.”
—
A horde of demons crawled out of the tear in the honmoon, rejoicing in their success.
They landed on a rooftop outside an indoor garden. A few little girls having a sleep-over held a tea party with their dolls as classical music played from a pink portable speaker. Their babysitter laid out on a blanket, watching videos out of boredom on her phone. All of them completely oblivious to the looming threat closing in.
“Ugh! That’s so low!”
A shin-kal impaled a demon’s face, bursting it apart. The demons looked back, snarling and gnashing their teeth at the hunters–plus Jinu and his little pet tiger.
“You really should’ve stayed in your cesspool,” Rumi said; she pointed her sword, and Mira and Zoey charged.
The battle should’ve been over after a few minutes, but they were significantly outnumbered. Jinu grabbed a broom and hit one demon over the head; it glared back at him, utterly disgusted. But at least he could distract the monster, lead it away from the garden, allowing Mira to sweep down and cleave it in two.
Even Derpy helped out; he slashed with his claws, bit with his teeth and gored with his tusks, and at one point bellyflopped and pinned a demon down until Zoey could come by and finish it.
The girls and babysitter remained ignorant to the flashing lights and dueling shadows outside. A combination of the music, the mesmerizing nothingness of the influencer video holding the sitter’s attention, and the girls heatedly arguing over the affairs of dolls and, actually, Lulu is married to Jimin, not Madam Nari, thank you very much, Hana.
Rumi dislocated her shoulder, Zoey’s nose was bleeding, Mira’s left eye was starting to swell, Jinu’s hand bitten, and Derpy was distracted by a fallen porcelain pot, but at least they’d reduced the demons down to two.
The demons immediately took off, one of them teleporting a distance away. The honmoon lit a path to follow them, the girls taking lead, ignoring their bruises and cuts, the dull thumping pain where they’d been struck or hit the ground.
They jumped from rooftop to rooftop, landing one by one on a bridge railing. Zoey threw two shin-kal; one soared past the smaller demon, but the second ran through the other.
With only a single demon left, Rumi willed herself up and pounced, closing the distance between her and the creature. It screamed in terror, stumbling; she snarled and drove her sword into its chest, pulling it up to split the demon’s head in two.
The party slowed to a stop; the girls panted and collected their bearings, sore and shaky.
“Finally,” Jinu grumbled, wiping away invisible sweat. Zoey and Mira shot him warning looks. Derpy pranced by carrying the pot in his mouth.
Rumi’s phone rang and she quickly answered it, voice energetic and pleasant, “Hey, Bobby! Sorry, we’re–”
“The video!” Bobby shrieked. “It’s starting!”
“Rumi!”
Rumi glanced back at Zoey; she, Mira, Jinu, and Derpy were staring across the street. She followed their gazes, looking over–it was a jumbotron, its massive screen playing a video.
Celine’s video. It only just started.
The group watched in silence, standing on the bridge over traffic below.
Celine looked gorgeous, dazzling the viewers with a wide array of intricate and unique costumes. She walked through forests and across seas; danced with grace one minute then with raw emotion the next. Her voice had only gotten smoother and deeper with age, and her lyrics spoke of her life: forced to push aside her own wants and desires, forced to be the fearless leader and soldier everyone could depend on, while all the time she had to ignore the darkness that attempted to swallow the light. Alone she stood against it, the rest of the world turning a blind eye.
No longer would she accept this reality, no longer would she play by these rigid rules, and no longer would she hold herself back and deny her desires. She would consume, feast, take, and even drink from a bottle of SUNLIGHT SOJU under a waterfall–pushing back and through those who would hold her down. The world she bowed to, bent over backwards for, was gone, and now she was owed her due. She would indulge.
“Wow…” Zoey whispered, hands clutched over her heart.
Mira swallowed, forcing back the tears.
Rumi felt… everything. Awe, inspiration, adoration, but also tension and unease. “She’s radiant,” she whispered nonetheless. “This is so… powerful.”
“I can hear her pain and anger,” Mira said quietly.
“Did she always feel this way?” Zoey sniffed. “Holding herself back, refusing to let her weaknesses be seen… all to protect us and the honmoon.”
Rumi’s heart ached. “I don’t know…”
Jinu frowned; he wasn’t sure if it was only him or not, but there was something off about the song. Beneath her powerful, divine vocals, he could hear soft, hushed whispering. This wasn’t unusual, of course, but one or two words he could make out were nothing he’d ever heard before. In any language. Then again, his experience with other world languages was extremely limited.
But it did almost sound like a chant. Something… ritualistic.
The video ended, and the girls could breathe again.
Celine appeared on the screen, thanking everyone for tuning in, hoping they enjoyed the video. “Indulge” was now available on all media platforms for purchase, and the video uploaded on her official website for further viewings. The short video ended with her bowing, closing out with a photo–the same photo Man-sik had taken earlier, the girls with their big smiles holding up the soju with Celine and her manager. They’d obviously been touched up, removing the slightly awkward expressions they wore at the time as well as deleting half of Bobby’s blurry face that had been peeking out from the bottom.
At the top of the photo in neon, bright, bold letters was written: SUNLIGHT SOJU! OFFICIALLY ENDORSED BY HUNTR/X!
“That’s a bit shady," Mira grunted. She then took out her phone, opened Seo-jun’s message. With a sigh, she finally responded.
“We better get back to Bobby,” Zoey tittered, “he’s probably raging over that photo.”
“How did the mukbang go with Baby? Did you finally cut him loose?”
“Oh… Yeah. It went well.” Zoey touched the necklace tucked under her top. “I hope, at least.”
Mira hit SEND and put her phone away. She turned to Rumi and Jinu standing side by side. “Huh,” she sneered, “you’re glowing brighter than usual.” She snickered. “Finally ‘fessed up and proclaimed your love for one another?”
Uncomfortable silence.
“You…”
Rumi and Jinu blushed, staring at their feet like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
“Oh my God,” Mira said in deadpan as Zoey cheered and squealed, “Oh my God!”
—
The reviews were in, the responses endless. Every platform, every entertainment news studio, was discussing and talking about her music video.
Celine watched various clips across the eight screens, a wicked leer splitting her face.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Gaeul shifted back into her gumiho form, turning to face the half-conscious, bound woman. “It’s all so easy.” She gingerly tossed two pieces of scrap metal to the drooling bulgasari.
Despite the exhaustion and pain, Celine replied, voice garbled and dry. “You… un-underestimate… the girls…”
Gaeul snorted, fluffy auburn tails swaying. “Don’t worry,” she sighed. She looked back at the screens, slipping into her Celine glamour again. “I’ve got that taken care of.”
Chapter 5
Notes:
There is a brief mention of Real Life Issues that I've been trying to avoid or keep vague to better fit the tone... but tonal dissonance is kind of a regular thing in Korean movies. Well, thriller and horror, the ones I watch. There will be further allusions and discussions to Real Life Issues in the future, but I am hoping I can tackle them without going too in depth or too depressing.
Also: this chapter is soaked in Melodrama. Oops. The great thing about fanfic and shit is you can pad stuff out before really getting to the meat and potatoes of the plot.
As per usual, please excuse any errors, and feedback is... beyond wonderful. I'm pumping out chapters of this fic because manic inspiration has hit me after a long dry spell, but I really, really appreciate the kudos and comments and bookmarks, thank you.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Geez, guys, I’m gone for like two or five hours, and now Jinu can not only touch things and be touched, but he and Rumi are an item! And Rumi loves him back! Which, to be fair, was totally obvious, like, wow, guys, took you long–”
“Zoey!” Jinu and Rumi snapped, blushing.
The girls and Jinu returned to the flat a half hour later, Celine’s song still playing and buzzing in their heads. Jinu hung back in case Bobby also could see him now, and the three girls were expecting a panicked lecture when they opened the door… To their relief, Bobby was passed out on the couch, cradling an empty bottle of SUNLIGHT SOJU, his free hand wedged in a bag of ppeongtwigi, snoring like a tornado siren.
“Keep it down,” Mira said quietly, picking the bottle and bag out of Bobby’s hands. Zoey, Rumi, and Jinu winced and whispered apologies. Mira rolled her eyes and covered their manager with a fluffy blanket. “He drank the entire bottle, geez…”
“Poor Bobby,” Zoey mumbled, “that Kang Man-sik really is a bully.”
“Bobby was right, however,” Rumi stated, “Celine would never tolerate the likes of Man-sik, so why–”
“Oh, don’t try to change the subject,” Zoey interjected, wagging her finger. “I want deets! What happened that changed everything?”
Jinu fidgeted. “It’s…” He gave up. “Rumi made me an offering, and then we got into a race, and the way the light of the moon and stars and the honmoon itself made her glow like a celestial maiden and, okay, don’t give me that look–anyway. I confessed.”
Zoey and Mira swooned. “Awww!”
“That sounds so romantic!”
Rumi blushed and smiled bashfully, stroking her braid in both hands. “It… really was, actually.” She peered up at Jinu. “It was perfect.”
Jinu smiled. He reached over and took her hand.
Zoey moaned, dragging fingers down her face. “Stooop! You’re rotting my teeth, you’re both so cuuuute!” she whined, hearts in her eyes.
“Zoey, hush!”
“Ah, sorry, sorry.”
Rumi and Jinu snickered.
“Did the offering you make give him his new powers?” Mira inquired, picking up Bobby’s over-night bag. He wasn’t supposed to stay the night, but did say he’d bring more snacks and drinks as well. No snacks left, but…
“I’m not sure, honestly,” Rumi answered, shrugging.
Zoey peeked out from behind Rumi with a wide, manic grin, surprising her. “Could it be the power of your love?” she whispered, vibrating.
“Could be,” Jinu said simply.
Zoey squealed, bouncing. “Aaahh! I love all this cutesy stuff!”
Mira rolled her eyes, giving Zoey a soft slap upside the head.
“I’m sorry, I’m just so exci–oh!” Zoey popped out beside Jinu, studying him. “Can I maybe touch you?”
“Uh, go ahead?”
Zoey slowly poked her finger into his arm, kept pushing deeper and deeper until Jinu told her to stop. “Woooow… It’s like you’re alive again!”
“Might cause trouble if other people besides ourselves can see him.” Mira placed the third bottle of SUNLIGHT SOJU on the kitchen island. “I guess we should give this a try if we’re apparently endorsing it,” she snorted.
“I’m not really in the mood for soju,” Zoey said, crossing her hands in an X.
“Yeah, no thanks.”
Mira shrugged. “Eh. Maybe tomorrow.” She turned and filled a glass with water.
“You passed by my mirror earlier, and we stopped to take a break by that fountain,” Rumi explained to Jinu, “and each time, I don’t recall seeing your reflection. Then again, I wasn’t really checking for one.”
“Then let’s try it now. Do any of you guys have a mirror?” Jinu asked. Each girl offered a hand compact. He took Zoey’s, opened it– “No. Nothing.”
Rumi, Mira, and Zoey stepped behind Jinu. They could see themselves, but not Jinu. Despite standing mostly behind him, Mira saw herself just fine in the star shaped mirror.
“Bummer. Too bad, ‘cause you got a real nasty zit on your nose.”
Jinu pursed his lips. He didn’t want to bite, he didn’t want to bite, but he did squint into the mirror a little harder.
“She’s kidding, of course,” Rumi whispered over her snickering friend. “Also, Zoey… Things went well with Baby, right?”
Zoey nodded. “I think so,” she said. “Sussie’s got at least three eyes on him, and there’s been no movement from PORKSLOP.” She held up her necklace. “Yup. The thread’s still there.”
Mira yawned, stretching. “Hopefully he’s having an existential crisis.” She smiled lazily. “Wish I was there to see it.”
Zoey cracked her back and sighed. “Maybe, but… I want bed right now.”
“Mmm… bed,” Rumi and Mira swooned and swayed.
“Bed… bed, bed, bed…”
Mira and Zoey immediately retired to their rooms. Jinu followed Rumi to her door then stopped. “I think I’ll keep an eye out on Bobby,” he said, “make sure he doesn’t, uh, choke on his vomit or something.”
Rumi paled. “That’s kinda morbid.”
“I mean… it happens, y’know?”
“He’ll be fine,” Rumi reassured. She shyly held out her hand. “Could you… would you mind staying with me until I fall asleep?” she asked sheepishly. “Just… sit beside me.”
Jinu blinked. “... Of course,” he said, grasping her hand.
Rumi beamed, a little lightheaded. She excused herself to change into fresh pajamas, her tank top and boxers having been dirtied during the battle. Jinu had pulled the blanket and sheet back for her, giving the space a pat.
“Such a gentleman,” Rumi chuckled. She climbed into bed, covering herself. She reached down and patted the space by her feet.
Jinu smirked and sat down, making himself comfortable.
“Another favor?” Rumi held out her hand again.
“Oh, I guess,” Jinu signed, feigning irritation. They both laughed softly as Jinu took her hand. Rumi hooked two fingers around his; he tenderly brushed her knuckles with his thumb.
Rumi sighed, sinking into the mattress. Her eyes went lidded. “Thanks, Jinu…”
“Thank you, Rumi.”
Rumi closed her eyes once, twice, then fell fast asleep, her expression neutral and peaceful.
Jinu watched over her, smiling wide. He was the luckiest ghost in the world. He leaned back, admiring the glowing star stickers dotting her ceiling. For some reason his head felt heavy, and slowly his vision began to fade.
—
Rumi woke abruptly as she slipped in something wet.
Her eyes flew open and before she could try to balance herself, she tumbled forward and bowled right into Mira and Zoey, all three of them falling and crashing to the floor.
Mira sat up with a groan. “Ru… mi? Zoey?” She looked around, blinking. “How did…”
“Why am I in the kitchen?” Zoey asked, rubbing her eyes. “And why are you guys in the kitchen? Oh, Rumi, are you okay?”
Rumi sat back, wincing. The bottom cuffs of her pants and knees were wet, and all three of them could smell the distinct sharp scent of alcohol.
Jinu let out a loud relieved moan. “Gods! You could’ve seriously hurt yourselves!” He pointed down at the kitchen floor. All three bottles of soju had been knocked over and shattered, flooding the area.
“What happened!” Rumi gasped, stumbling to her feet. She helped Zoey and Mira up.
Zoey looked over, afraid–Bobby was still sawing logs on the sofa, now half-twisted up with his face pressed into a cushion.
“Did I knock them over?” Rumi asked, worried.
Jinu frowned; from the corner of his eye he could see Derpy’s tail sticking out from a closet. “I don’t think it was you…” he grumbled. He walked over to the closet, threw open the doors. Derpy’s face was pressed against the wall; he shamefully looked back at Jinu and whined.
“I don’t care how they broke,” Mira seethed, “I just wanna know what we’re all doing out here? Because it seems to me we were all sleep-walking and heading to the kitchen.”
“This has never happened before,” Zoey muttered.
Jinu cajoled (with a lot of effort pushing) Derpy into the kitchen to apologize. The tiger moaned and bowed his head. “Well, you’ve got him to blame for the mess, at least,” he chided.
Zoey, Mira, and Rumi sniffled at the dewy eyed beast. “Jinuuu, you’re so mean.”
“What!”
Derpy perked back up, grinning ear to ear.
“Cats knock things off tables and stuff all the time, it’s fiiiine!”
“He’s not a house cat, he’s a–” Jinu threw up his hands. Not gonna bother. Derpy playfully swatted his leg for his troubles.
Rumi massaged her forehead. “We’ve been under a lot of stress lately. I know this is something entirely out of left field, but we’re all going through some new forms of strangeness right now. And I think we just happened to go to the kitchen for–”
“--Comfort food time,” the girls said together.
“I don’t feel hungry, though,” Zoey said, hand on her stomach.
“Might have something to do with you eating a metric ton’s worth of garbage earlier,” Mira suggested. She shrugged, too tired for anymore nonsense. “But, since I’m here.” She opened the freezer and took out a strawberry popsicle. “Peace.” She marched back to her room, semi-slamming the door shut.
Bobby snorted like a piglet but remained asleep.
Zoey got halfway to her room before giving up; she laid on the floor, tugged a large plushie over to cuddle, and shut the door with her foot.
Rumi and Jinu looked at one another, both still a little unsettled.
“Don’t drink that!” they shouted as Derpy slowly stretched his tongue out for the soju.
Bobby bolted upright, rapidly half-snarling. “NnghSeñorChangneverd–uh?” He blinked bleary eyes, sluggishly looking back to the source of the noise.
Rumi, Jinu, and Derpy were locked and frozen into place, both half turned, half bent forward, pointing at the tiger. Derpy with his head bowed and tongue hanging just an inch from the soju.
“Don’t move,” Rumi whispered between clenched teeth, “can’t see you…”
Jinu forced himself not to blink. “Don’t think… that works…”
A thick droplet of drool rolled off Derpy’s extended tongue.
Bobby whimpered. “Umma? Am I still the Emperor of Canada?”
Rumi rolled her eyes over to Jinu then rolled them back, cautiously standing upright. “Yes, adeul,” she crooned, “now go back to sleep.”
Bobby snickered and wiggled. “Yaaaayeheheh.” He then passed back out with a snore.
Jinu and Rumi slumped and relaxed, the latter taking a deep breath. She was too tired to lecture Derpy as he drank the soju. Instead, Jinu helped her throw out the broken shards of glass and mop up the floor.
Jinu placed a hand to Derpy’s face, attempted to shove him away so they could finish cleaning, but only succeeded in squishing his head and neck deeper into his body.
“Aigoo…”
—
Rumi, Mira, and Zoey woke up at their usual early time despite their exhaustion. They each got ready before meeting up in the kitchen.
Jinu was there, leaning against the island table. “Got you ladies breakfast,” he said smugly, gesturing to the box of artisanal bagels and three Starbucks coffees, each cup marked with the first letter of their names. “You can repay me later.”
Rumi took the folded up note out from under the box, read it out loud, “‘Sorry I fell asleep while you were out, girls. Hope you watched the music video. It was totally’… uh… ‘#DaBomb. See you in the studio. Yours, Bobby.’”
Zoey slugged Jinu playfully in the shoulder and grabbed her coffee.
Rumi took a bagel and walked into the living room. Bobby had considerately cleaned up after himself, folding the blanket back over the sofa. She picked up the remote and sat down. “Bet it’ll be all over the news,” she said, switching the TV on. “Let’s see…”
Rumi switched to channel 10.
A meteorologist was pointing out the weather for today on the projection screen behind him. Huge, aggressive, thundering storm clouds rolled over the map. “And this here signifies a massive flood warning,” he said, then laughed as cartoon heads of Celine came pouring down on the city with bolts of lightning and sheets of rain. “Of SUNLIGHT SOJU! Have you guys heard they sold out already? I barely managed to snatch one from the online st–”
Rumi switched to another channel.
Two newscasters stood outside the studio behind a sea of chanting fans. “But despite that, there’s already a protest for more SUNLIGHT SOJU!” one of them cried out over the noise.
The second newscaster tittered. “Boy, I’m sure glad my husband was able to pick one up hours earlier.”
Eight protestors nearby the ladies slowly turned, furiously glaring.
“She’s got a bottle! She’s got a bottle!”
The newscasters screamed, fleeing; the cameraman wasn’t so lucky, immediately knocked into a large cardboard cut out of Celine by a wave of enraged and desperate fans.
Third channel.
News playing security footage of a group of men engaging in a fist fight over the last remaining SUNLIGHT SOJU at the liquor store.
Rumi switched to one last channel, catching the tail end of a commercial advertising Celine’s new single now available for download on–
“Yup,” Mira said, popping a chunk of bagel in her mouth, “ev’whar.”
Zoey scrolled through her phone, reading. “All the convenience stores in Seoul carrying the soju–site here says around 300 bottles were distributed–sold out within the first twenty-two minutes. Makes sense! Lines were already piling up ten minutes after Celine’s interview yesterday morning with more filing in right after the music video hit the air. Yup, sounds totally normal!” She scrolled a little more. “Busan’s pyeonujieom also sold out their 300 bottles–yupyupyup. The rest must be in markets.”
Jinu watched the TV. “They’re showing footage of the lines outside the market places… Geez. It’s like I’m looking at a swarm of ants…” He leaned in close to the screen. “Or raisins. Mmm…” He looked over at Rumi hungrily, raising his hands pressed together in a plea. “Can you make me an offering of raisin tea later, maybe?”
Mira checked the clock. “Annnnd most stores here should be opening in an hour or two.” She sneered, sipping coffee. “It’s gonna be Hell. A real apocalypse.”
“In America, we call that Black Friday,” Zoey giggled, only to remember the single time her and her mother went shopping during the aforementioned event at midnight. She paled, holding herself as she shivered in fear.
This was all par for the course when it came to merch, be it exclusive, limited, whatever, and the girls expected no difference when it came to Celine.
Rumi remembered the first day their brand of ramyeon was released, there was a riot of HUNTR/X fans storming the stores to snatch up every last cup, ferocious and screaming battle cries. They had to contend with vicious and determined resellers and fiercely loyal parents, guardians, and loved ones standing in for the younger fans who could not be conscripted in this army of madness. Many products had been trampled and lost, mourned by the common, casual shoppers and the employees who had to clean them up.
This happened for a week straight, all throughout South Korea, and it wasn’t as if the products were limited time only.
A month later when an actual limited amount hit America, the UK, Japan, and a handful more countries… The cycle started again, no less traumatic and shocking.
“Why don’t we buy her flowers?” Zoey suggested, clapping. “A nice big wreath to fill her office!”
Mira munched on her bagel. “Everyone’s gonna give her that.”
“Mm… Cake then?”
“Or that.”
“Champagne?”
“She’s got enough alcohol, I think.”
Jinu turned quickly, standing tall and tense. “No,” he said gravely, channeling his inner dramatic action film star, “I know just the gift.”
“Not Margherita pizza.”
“... Rai–”
“I’m placing an order for flowers.”
—
Of course Celine wasn’t in the office. Her secretary confirmed she’d be out for the next five hours, having two interviews booked back to back. The girls instead went to their rehearsals instead.
“Girls! You watched the music video, right?” Bobby asked once they arrived, bouncing and dancing.
“Yeah, we saw it on the way home,” Rumi answered.
Bobby winced. “Ah, I’m so sorry I passed out, but that soju…” He kissed his fingers. “But who cares! Wasn’t it amazing? The video was great, yeah, but the soooong!”
“So freakin’ good! But also so dang sad,” Zoey agreed, grinning then immediately frowning.
“It’s definitely inspired us. Super pumped,” Mira said confidently. “Her voice only got better with age, too.”
Rumi’s smile waned, eyes averted. “Yeah… It was beautiful.”
Jinu watched her, concerned.
“Well, me and the dancers and the other normies are ready to break it down!” Bobby cheered, kicking out a leg. His shoe fell off and sailed across the stage, nearly hitting one of the dancers in the face. “Ah, sorry, sorry!”
—
Rehearsals and practice went on without a hitch. Everyone was on their A game, putting sweat, blood, and a few tears into their work. They sang with everything, every last ounce of energy and power in their body, undeniably inspired by Celine’s performance.
The emotions that drove Rumi were more complicated, but fortunately she had learned to expertly mask them since she was a child.
All that pain in Celine’s song, all the repression and restraints… had that included Rumi? Had she… ever been a burden?
During break, Zoey lounged in one of the auditorium’s opera boxes and penned lyrics for a new song. Mira had excused herself to leave, a skip in her step and a mischievous glint in her eyes. The dancers, staff, and Bobby all listened to “Indulge”, singing and dancing and toasting over their catered lunch.
Jinu and Rumi left the stage to somewhere more quiet and private.
“Not going to eat with them?” Jinu asked.
Rumi shook her head. “I’m not really hungry.”
After all her hard work, she had to be starving, but Jinu knew better than to push. “I’ll make sure they save you some food,” he reassured, “I’ll make the lights flicker and speakers screech if anyone tries to take it.”
Rumi chuckled. After a few more steps, she turned to Jinu. “I need a moment, if you don’t mind,” she said.
“No problem.”
Jinu went to play fetch with Derpy in the back alley.
Rumi watched them go, softly smiling, before finding an empty dance room. She walked up to the wall of mirrors, staring at her reflection. Hair had come loose from her braid, a few locks hung over her eyes; her gym clothes were stained in sweat, her skin sticky and shiny.
Rumi touched the pattern across her right temple. From a distance, one could barely see them. But they were there–out in the open. Revealed to Mira and Zoey, revealed to the entire world. She tried to remember her talk with Celine, her apologies, her kind and thoughtful words, her compassion; tried to pull out the confidence and pride and utter relief she’d felt at that moment in time…
Yet she couldn’t.
Why couldn’t she?
Rumi hurriedly finished her bottle of water, washing away the itch in her raw throat. She took out her phone, breathed in deep, exhaled slowly, and called Celine.
It rang. Rang, and rang, and rang. Rumi was informed Celine’s inbox was full and therefore could not leave a message.
She called again.
Pick up. This was Rumi. She was going through a hard time. She was still recovering from–from everything. It’d only been a couple weeks ago, their confrontation.
She called a third time. Pick up. Celine wasn’t stupid, she’d know this would take time; mending broken bridges isn’t completed in just one day.
A fourth time. Pick up pick up pick up. Rumi, the lead singer of HUNTR/X, Rumi the daughter of Mi-yeong, once Celine’s best friend and bandmate, Rumi, her daughter, at least in the eyes of the law. Pick up pick
“Pick up!” Rumi snarled.
The inbox of this caller is full and cannot–
Rumi narrowly stopped herself from throwing the phone into the mirrors. She gasped and stumbled forward, sweat pouring down her face, her entire body trembling.
Why hadn’t it been enough?
“Maybe it’s just me,” Rumi mumbled, wiping sweat from the pattern across her neck. “Maybe I don’t want to forgive her.”
No, that wasn’t true. Absolutely not. Rumi wanted Celine’s love and adoration then, and she wanted it now. She wanted it unlimited and welcoming and all encompassing. And Celine had given her all that, in her words, in her embrace, her hands that stroked her hair, cupped her cheek.
“So then why…?”
Why did it not feel right? Why did that entire conversation come off as… hollow? Incomplete? Rushed? She’d sensed at least some sincerity in Celine’s response, but what part, what words?
Why didn’t Celine pick up the phone? It didn’t matter how busy she was, Rumi was calling her.
Rumi was angry–at herself, and at Celine. All her doubting aside, why couldn’t Celine have taken time to have a serious, long talk with Rumi before she threw herself back into the music scene? Couldn’t she have waited at least one day to spend with the child she raised and loved as a daughter before… before…
Rumi dropped to the floor, curling up. “I’m so selfish,” she whispered, burying her face in her fists. Rumi sniffled, letting the tears fall. “Everything’s okay! We’re okay! Why do you need more!” she slammed her hands on the hardwood floor, glaring hatefully at her reflection.
A tremor rushed through the honmoon, tinted the faintest of red.
Rumi panted, the only sound of her heavy breathing filling the room.
“Hey… Rumi?”
Rumi sat upright, braid whipping the air. “B-Bobby?” She sniffed and wiped her face, all the make-up smeared. “Ssi-bal...”
“If you’re too busy, that’s fine, you don’t gotta answer the door.”
Rumi licked her fingers, tried to wipe away the mascara. Now it looked like she had two black eyes. “I’m not–not busy, just…” Just what?
“I know you know I’m your manager, and as your manager, I like to think you can come to me to talk if you ever need an open ear and shoulder to lean on.”
Rumi stared at the door, alarmed.
“Celine said it best–this industry can be very powerful and inspiring, bringing hope and joy to the people. But it can also be really… really stressful, and it has its problems and flaws and and and, listen, it works both ways. The fans need to love your music, and you need to love making music. You gotta enjoy yourself and what you do. If you’re not happy… You’re not happy, and I hope you know you should allow yourself to feel what you feel, and you shouldn’t have to… to force yourself to smile if it hurts… You are more important than the fans, o-okay? That’s what I’m trying to say! Not, ‘listen, miss lady, if you’re sad, the fans are sad, and thus you can’t be sad,’ no, never!”
Rumi placed a hand over her mouth, swallowing down her sob.
“And, yanno, so like, I personally find talking to someone is super helpful. You don’t feel so alone. But maybe, maybe if you think it’s not something you’d wanna share with the other girls or Celine or–”
Bobby squeaked as the door flew open. “Ru–” His eyes widened in shock when he saw Rumi’s messy, tear and sweat stained face and bloodshot, watering eyes. He dropped his phone and approached her, hands raised and scrambling, afraid to touch her. “Oh, no, Rumi, what happened?”
Rumi leaned forward, throwing her arms around Bobby. She buried her face in his shoulder, but she didn’t cry.
Bobby wrapped his arms around her and sighed. He patted her on the back, closed his eyes, and said nothing.
When Rumi was ready to talk, Bobby would be there to listen.
—
Mira was starting to have regrets.
After a short bus ride and winding through a number of alleys, Mira arrived at her destination. This part of town was fairly empty around this time of the day, but it usually filled up late evening as people returned home from work and school.
The only vendor available during this downtime was run by an elderly man named Hammond. It wasn’t his real name, as Mira came to find out, but he felt it suited the type of food he peddled–hot dogs. Specifically, reasonably good and fair imitations of Chicago style hot dogs.
“Been a while, miss,” Hammond said, pouring a large spoonful of relish over Mira’s hot dog, “what’s the occasion?”
“Ah, well,” Mira replied, pushing up her glasses, “hopefully something good, but… I dunno.”
“Hoping for good things is the best way to hope,” Hammond chuckled.
Mira sat down at the only table with her messy hot dog and soda, doing her best not to let the ketchup, mustard, and relish spill on her jacket. But after two bites her stomach rumbled. She was too nervous; she put it down, frustrated, and tried to make herself appear as small as possible.
Fifteen minutes might as well have been fifteen hours. She tapped her foot, checked her phone, lowered her hat when a person walked by every once in a while.
“Aish!” Mira cursed. She didn’t want to throw away her food in front of Hammond, but she also didn’t want to sit here stewing in anxiety any longer.
“Sorry!”
Mira stiffened, wide-eyed.
Seo-jun sat down across from her, placing his satchel by his feet. “I just got out of class,” he explained, clearly breathless. He was sweating a little, suggesting he’d been running. “Um, no offense, but whatever hunk of mystery meat is marinating on your tray appears to be mov–”
“You told me to choose the time and place,” Mira hissed, “so I choose the food, too. And since we agreed on having lunch.” She pointed firmly at Hammond, the old man sitting and reading a magazine.
He swallowed, tugging on his tie. “I…”
Mira pointed harder and growled.
Seo-jun immediately got up and ordered a plain hot dog with a cup of water.
“Weak,” Mira scoffed. She took a big bite and openly chewed, locking eyes with Seo-jun.
Seo-jun winced. “So, I’m glad you–”
“Just be straight with me,” Mira interrupted, spitting up bits of food. She swallowed with an audible ulp. “You’re not trying to con me, are you? Not trying to get close to me so you can have access to my stuff?”
“I told you before, I would never do that,” Seo-jun sighed. “I’m here to reconcile with you. I want to… fix things.” He nervously poked his hot dog with a straw.
“You said it had something to do with ‘Golden’.”
“Yes. Watching that video just… gave me the final push and really opened my eyes, when all this time I’d chosen to keep them closed,” Seo-jun explained. “Your lyrics, I… They cut deep.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not sorry if they upset you. You’ve no idea how hard I had to work to get to a place where I could sing those lyrics with confidence and pride.”
Seo-jun nodded. “I believe you.” He looked up at Mira. “I know we haven’t been close in–”
“When were we ever close, Seo-jun?” Mira demanded. “When we were just babies, stupid little kids, maybe, but what about later, when we both got older? Where were you all those times mom and dad fought with me, belittled and yelled at me for not being the ideal daughter? When did you ever stick up for me? Not even once, because you wanted to be the perfect son. You wanted our parents to treat you like the golden child and–”
“Is that what you think?” Seo-jun hissed, lightly banging his fists. He looked over at Hammond, the old man oblivious. “It’s true I wasn’t the most supportive brother, but I was scared, Mira!”
“Scared?” Mira laughed angrily. “Scared you’d be shunned like I was?”
“Yes!” Seo-jun cried out, taking her aback. His eyes shined with tears, chest heaving slightly. “I’ve never been as strong and outgoing and proud as you! So many times I wanted to play with you, break the rules and say ‘screw the system’ and be as independent and free spirited as you, but I… I was scared.”
Mira didn’t know what to say. She quietly shook her head.
“When you left,” Seo-jun mumbled, “mom and dad came down on me hard. They wanted me to fill both their shoes as well as yours. So they pushed me and pushed me, and for a time I did blame you, and it’s why I refused to communicate with you. They broke me down, Mira, and so I fell into place as the golden child. I felt numb, like a machine.”
Seo-jun ran his hands through his hair. “The rare moments when I allowed myself to feel ‘weakness’ and reach out to you, I was suddenly filled with dread–they would disown me, kick me out, throw me away, I’m not like Mira, I’m not strong or confident, I won’t bounce back like she did, I won’t have anything to fall back on because so much of my life was molded to serve our parents’ desires and dreams, their hopes for the future. Perfect son, perfect student, perfect husband, perfect father–what am I without them? Nothing!
“And yes, there was a period in my life where I started hating you because I couldn’t blame them. Never them.” He fixed his glasses. “There’d be moments where I thought I was superior to you, but only out of spite and anger. I know there were many times I could have taken your side, could have stood up for you, but I didn’t. But, I’m just… I’m not here pleading with you because I want your money or a share of the spotlight. I’ve had time to think away from mom and dad, and I… I don’t like feeling this way anymore, Mira.”
Seo-jun wiped his nose with a napkin, dabbed away the tears under his glasses. Sniffed. “I don’t want to hate my big sister. I don’t want to pretend I never cared about you and you were in the wrong. I looked up to you when we were just little kids–you were my first idol.”
Mira stared at her food. She felt… everything, all of it indescribable and intense, but there was undeniable disappointment and relief because… He was telling the truth. Her brother was broken down, and he needed his sister. Not for what she had to offer in the industry, not for any material reasons, but a lifeline and family.
Seo-jun was not to blame. He, too, had been a victim.
Neither of them really had a family, then. She’d found hers, so maybe it was time he found his. Right in the last place they both left it.
“... Yeah, well,” Mira mumbled, “you were the baby of the family. As your big sister, I should have been more considerate of that.” She clenched a fist. “It’s hard, Seo-jun, to see you as anyone else but them. You look like dad and often sound like mom. God, we were just kids! This is so messed up!”
“I take full responsibility for my own wrong-doings, but… Mom and dad had a way of alienating us from one another, I realized,” Seo-jun confessed. “Maybe it was to make us more competitive, maybe it was their fear you’d be a bad influence for me. Maybe they just thought I was weaker and easier to mold to their desires.” He smirked bitterly. “I think it’s the last one. They got their hooks in deep, and I barely even bothered to wriggle free.”
“Yeah,” Mira grunted. “Can’t be the ideal daughter, can’t be the perfect functioning cog in their machinations, can’t be a dutiful wife and overbearing mother. Can’t know my place as a woman, or an adult.”
Seo-jun chuckled against his sleeve cuff.
Mira raised her head, snorting. “What’s so funny?”
“You know…” Seo-jun swished the water round and round in his cup. “Before I moved to Seoul, mom found out a few of my secrets. She told me not to tell dad–never had the intention of telling him or her in the first place–and she said Seoul better ‘change me for the better’ because she doesn’t want me ending up as ‘some pitiful and poor chonggakgwishin.’”
Mira didn’t quite understand. “... Are you implying you’ve no intention of getting married, is that it?”
Seo-jun shrugged loosely. “Maybe one day, but no matter my choice in partner, mom and dad would never approve.” He chortled. “Funny, since your new song is about a virgin ghost.”
That’s when it clicked, and Mira’s eyes went wide. “... And wishing you wouldn’t become a chonggakgwishin is how she reacted to that?” She placed a hand over her mouth in complete shock.
Seo-jun nodded sadly.
“That’s so freakin’ stupid,” Mira burst out laughing. Seo-jun knew it wasn’t at his expense she was laughing, though. “They’re hopeless, honestly. Aigoo…”
“Yeah…”
“That was uncalled for, and she was wrong to say that,” Mira reassured. She hesitated a moment before placing her hand gently on Seo-jun’s shoulder. He went tense, surprised. “I’m sorry, Seo-jun. And… I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” Seo-jun said quietly, “so am I, nuna.”
Mira shook her head. “Mm, not yet,” she said. “But… in the future, yeah, sure.”
Seo-jun beamed. “That’s all I ask for.”
It would take a while, and there were plenty of hurdles and obstacles they both had to work around and jump over, but… Well, they had to try, and that was the first step forward.
Seo-jun almost psyched himself up to try the hot dog, only to drop it when he remembered something. “Oh, Celine, that Sunshine Sister–”
“Sunlight.”
“–she’s your agent, yes? What’s this about her new song and soju everyone is so worked up over?”
“Didn’t see the music video last night?” Mira asked, licking relish from her thumb.
“I have an early morning class, so I try to be in bed before 8.” Seo-jun leaned forward, intrigued. “Have you tried the soju? Is it any good?”
“Well, I don't know about the soju,” Mira answered, “but the video and song were brilliant.”
“Apparently so, more than half the campus is talking about her,” Seo-jun smirked. “But, that does remind me… The actor you cast as me for the ‘Golden’ music video was pretty cute, but you could’ve done better. Someone older and taller, for example.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t hire a toddler. Rumi talked me out of it.”
—
Zoey hummed a harmony as she reread her new lyrics. She’d really have to thank Celine later.
“Rah!”
Zoey squeaked and leapt out of her seat, peering up over her notebook. Sussie was perched on the box’s balcony, all six eyes half-lidded. “You scared me,” she sighed and flopped back down. “Here to make a report? Hope it’s nothing serious!”
Sussie stomped a foot. “Ree.”
Zoey giggled. “Okay, okay.” She picked up her backpack, rummaging inside. “Good thing I keep ‘em on me.” She removed a bag of mushroom shaped chocolates and an unmarked green travel sized bottle.
Sussie danced back and forth, excited.
Zoey poured a few mushrooms on the balcony, then filled a cap with the contents of the bottle. “Your insamju, kkachi-nim,” she hummed, placing it in front of Sussie.
The magpie squawked and hopped around the bottle cap three times before drinking eagerly. In between delighted sips, they snatched up a chocolate mushroom and swallowed it whole.
Zoey watched, fascinated and amused. “For a freaky demon monstrosity, you’re so adorable!”
She waited until the magpie finished all the mushrooms and drank the last drop of insamju. Thoroughly content, Sussie flopped on their back, sticking up their stick-thin legs. The hat slid forward, covering their top pair of eyes.
“Before you take a nap,” Zoey said, gently poking the bird, “you gotta give your report.”
Sussie whined.
“One ‘kaw’ for yes, two ‘kaw’ for no, okay?”
“Kaw.”
“Good! So, did Baby ever leave the diner?”
“Kaw.”
“Oooh… Did he go very far?”
“Kaw, kaw.”
“Mmm… did he bother any people?”
“Kaw, kaw.”
Zoey sighed with relief. “Was he out for longer than an hour?”
“Kaw, kaw.”
“Wow, okay, and the necklace points to PORKSLOP, so he’s been there the whole day…” Zoey was torn. On one hand, he was staying out of trouble, keeping to one place. On the other hand, she felt sorry for him–was he really that scared that Gwi-ma would snatch him up if he left the protected room? The seals would make it easier for him to hide, sure, but once Gwi-ma was restored, even if only 50%, he’d see right through the shroud easily.
“I should stop by later,” Zoey mumbled, tapping her feet. “I feel kinda bad… I hope I didn’t like, mess with his brain and cause lasting issues.” Her stomach cramped at the idea. “Either way, thanks for your service! Next time you report back, I’ll bring Crown Shinzzang and gukhwaju!”
Zoey scratched Sussie’s belly, the magpie sighing decadently.
—
Every last bottle of SUNLIGHT SOJU sold out by 10 AM.
Entertainment news talked nonstop on repeat about the video, the song, the soju, and the Sunlight Sisters for a majority of the day. Local news dipped in and out, but were mostly concerned with the small riots, fights, arguments, and even a proposal where the boyfriend used one of the bottles instead of a ring. The girlfriend immediately agreed.
Gaeul and Man-sik knew one thousand bottles wouldn’t be enough, however.
Although the hypnotic subliminal messages pushed listeners to purchase a bottle and drink it as soon as possible, it wouldn’t work for everyone, especially those who had not listened to the song when it first played. The ritual was at its strongest then, although it could still affect those who tuned in later.
Some fans would share their bottles when it was more ideal and foolproof if only one person drank a majority of it. Some would refuse to even open their bottles, especially diehard collectors and resellers–at least those who did not fall under the ritual’s power.
Gaeul spent the entire night and early morning meditating, channeling her essence in each of the bottles. She saw many drink and partake, some by themselves, some with others. Fortunately, the majority of those who bought a bottle had consumed them, outweighing those who simply shelved them in shrines or packaging.
It wouldn’t be enough. Phase two would have to be the extra push she needed.
Famous influencer Jack Loggins showed his viewers his bottle of SUNLIGHT SOJU. “This was a gift from Miss Celine herself–when I visited South Korea last year, I got to interview her and HUNTR/X! Didn’t think she’d even remember me! But for today’s challenge, I’m gonna drink this entire bottle in under ten minutes! I blacked out in a back alley in Seoul last time I drank this stuff, so wish your bestboy luck! And remember, hit that subscribe–”
“--and like this video if you want to see more reviews of popular and limited drinks from around the world,” celebrity chef Michelle Mae giggled, clearly a bit tipsy, as she pushed the half-empty bottle closer to the camera. “Next meal’s on me, Celine.”
Dude McFire exploded on the screen with early 2000s’ fiery graphics. “Welcome back, food fam! I’m here with Chef Carla Cho of New York’s very own Dash-In. Carla, apparently you were sent a bottle of KPop legend Sunlight Sister Celine’s sold out SUNLIGHT SOJU, is that right?” he exclaimed.
“Right indeed!” Carla chuckled, showing the bottle. “I briefly catered for the Sunlight Sisters and in that time got to know Miss Celine very well! I’m so grateful for this unique and amazing gift! If you’re watching, Miss Celine, gamsahamnida!” She bowed enthusiastically
“And today you’re gonna make Korean BBQ using your own soju infused marinade? Sounds like it’s gonna have an extra little–”
“Kick me running, [BLEEP]damn!” lead singer of the band Two Direct Marcus coughed and wheezed, finishing his third shot of the soju. His brother and drummer, Mark, was red faced and watery eyed. Marcus moved the phone so their audience could see the two bottles of SUNLIGHT SOJU. “This [BLEEP] is strong!”
R&B artist E. Elliot sat back in his fancy recliner, sipping his soju. The chat gushed about how cool and stylish he looked. “Mm. Yeah. That’s crisp.”
Erika Updo applied her third set of fake eyelashes. “And, like, there was this…” She paused, bunching up her hands and five inch long fake, bedazzled nails. “... This feeling I got when I drank it. I was reminded of… autumn? Yeah, like I was having a chilly drink during an autumn afternoon.” She applied tiny heart stickers to her top, bright pink lip. “Mm, yeah, definitely gives you that nostalgic fall feeling.”
All sixteen members of the KPop girl band, WESHINE, sat behind a row of SUNLIGHT SOJU bottles. “Annyeong, starlets!” they greeted in unison, waving dozens of pairs of hands. “Today we’re all gonna be trying the new SUNLIGHT SOJU, gifted to us personally by Celine-nim from the legendary Sunlight Sisters!”
Half the group giggled, the other half gasped and clapped.
“Usually we avoid drinking at aaall costs, but this is a very special occasion!”
“Yeah!”
“It was the Sunlight Sisters who got all of us into music and inspired us to pursue singing careers! And to have our sunbae acknowledge us in this way–” They all bowed. “We’re so grateful!”
News anchor Kim Eun-kyung looked to her co-anchor, Lee Ha-joon. “Everyone here at X received their own bottle, which was incredible. I had a drink or two yesterday, and you can really taste those bittersweet notes.”
“Most definitely,” Ha-joon replied. “I drank mine with jjimdak and it was deeelicious!”
The dance star said, “It pairs well with most foods!”
“Especially spicy meals!” said the film director.
“I couldn’t get enough!” exclaimed the renowned fantasy author.
“I’m ashamed to admit I drank it waaay too fast,” the drama actress tittered.
The host of the popular variety show shouted to both the studio and home audiences, “And if you were lucky enough to snag one of these babies: drink it with spicy things, drink it with sweet things, drink it on a train in the rain, just drink, drink, drink it!”
Ma Dong-seok held the bottle up next to his winning smile.
“Delicious–
“--flavorful–”
“--couldn’t stop–”
“--drink–”
“--consume–”
“--just kept pouring–”
“--endless shots–”
“--need and want–”
“--more–”
“--indulge!”
Gaeul lifted the lid off her platter, smiling at the raw meat marinating in blood and caramelized onions. She picked up the liver with her chopsticks; with one last ravenous lick of her lips, she took a big bite. Tearing and chewing and slurping, juices dribbling from her chin.
Celine watched in disgust.
The gumiho cleaned her face with a napkin. “Don’t worry,” she said, glancing back at Celine from the corner of her eye, “it’s not a human liver.” She waved a hand. “Drink your makgeolli. I didn’t spike it with my soju, I promise.”
Gaeul’s phone rang again. “I thought I finally had a moment of peace,” she sighed. She checked the caller ID and cursed. “Your girl is quite clingy,” she scowled, shoving it back in her coat pocket. “That’s the fourth time in the past five minutes.”
“I told you,” Celine said, peering out from the bars of her cage, “the girls will figure out you’re an imposter. Rumi probably already senses it. They’ll stop you before you can finish–”
“You really upset Rumi, you know,” Gaeul interjected. She could see the hurt in Celine’s eyes before she looked aside. “You pushed her away. Honestly, I shouldn’t have apologized, but…” She took off her coat, tossing it over the back of the chair. The shadows of her nine tails swallowed Celine. “I felt for her, if you can believe it. She was in pain and only sought comfort–but you rejected her. You told her to hide, told her to push down her feelings and fears.”
Gaeul glared hatefully down at Celine. “You’re no better than Bora and Na-bi.”
“I was wrong,” Celine admitted. “And you–”
“Don’t pretend you know anything about me,” Gaeul hissed, tails bushing up. “You only know what Bora wrote: fallen sister and comrade, she let darkness consume her soul. We hope she finds peace.” She laughed bitterly, angrily. “That’s all. A footnote in the history of demon hunters and shaman. The one who wasn’t strong enough and gave into her negative emotions.” Her fists shook at her sides. “The example used as to why hunters must be flawless, their faults never to be seen. You must be perfect and untouchable, or else you fall like poor, misguided Gaeul.”
Celine shook her head weakly. “Your story doesn’t need to end,” she insisted. “You can still change everything, stop this madness. My girls… they’re not like you or I, or any hunters before us.” She took a deep breath. “They’re stronger, wiser; they are better than all of us combined, past and present. And just as I know, they’ll know you’re hurting, Gaeul, that you’re lashing out in–”
“Silence!” Gaeul screamed, the shadows of her tails stretching across the room, up the walls, along the ceiling, nearly covering them both in darkness, her blazing red eyes the only source of light. “You’ll never understand the depths of my pain! You’ll never know what it’s like to be shunned and hated by those you loved most–all because you saw the world for what it truly is! You would rather live on in ignorance, turn a blind eye to whatever might cause you to question your beliefs! You, who burdened Rumi with shame that you lied and called ‘love’ and ‘protection’!”
Celine sat back, lips trembling.
Gaeul panted, her shadows shrinking down.
The door opened abruptly, both looking back. Eun attempted to get through the door with a long metal pipe in his mouth. He stepped back, tried again, only to be forcefully stopped. It took a few more tries before he turned his head, angled the pipe, and got inside. Geum followed, thoroughly unimpressed.
“Gaaaeul!” Man-sik sang, pushing in a trolley carrying flowers, potted plants, balloons, food baskets, and boxes upon boxes of gifts. “You got more goodies!” He took out a bottle of wine wrapped in black and pink bows. “Aigoo, just one of these bastards sells for more than my yearly salary combined! The girls of Blackpink sure know classy.”
Gaeul sighed and dropped back into her chair, kneading her temples. “Great, whatever. Put them with the rest of the garbage.”
Eun dropped the pipe beside Gaeul. Geum flopped down to gnaw on it like a metal bone. Eun, however, stopped from joining, staring up at his master with concern. He whined and nudged his trunk and face against her leg.
Gaeul managed a weak smile. She scratched behind the bulgasari’s ears. “I’m okay,” she reassured quietly.
“Should these go in the trash, too?” Man-sik asked, holding up three bouquets. Daisies, daffodils, sunflowers, and lilies–some of Celine’s favorites–in fancy blue studio glass vases sculpted with flowers, white and gold ribbons with bows tied around the necks. Man-shik showed the card that came attached. “‘All our love; we’re so proud. - the girls.’”
“Ah, gifts from HUNTR/X, how nice,” Gaeul smirked.
“Want me to throw them out? Very cheap, in my opinion,” Man-sik grunted, licking his silver tooth. “Couldn’t afford to give their precious mentor something a little more expensive–aish, ungrateful.”
“I want to keep them,” Gaeul insisted.
Man-sik shrugged. He placed each large bouquet on her desk. She leaned in to smell them, taking a deep breath. Smiled and slowly exhaled. “Such delightful scents,” she cooed. She plucked a sunflower and daisy from one vase. “These were intended for you, so I suppose I should share.”
Celine recoiled as Gaeul threw the flowers through her bars.
“Seems you finished your lunch,” Man-sik said. He checked his watch. “Good, ‘cause we need to get going. Jae-suk’s interview is coming up.”
“And how were your errands?”
Man-sik beamed with pride. “Passed out at least five dozen bundles of… water.” He giggled impishly.
Celine sat forward. “Wait, what did you do?” she demanded.
Man-sik waved a dismissive hand. “We need those numbers up, especially if the hypnosis keeps some of those slobbering losers from drinking their bottles.” He shrugged. “So Celine donated perfectly normal, untampered bottles of water to a couple homeless shelters, and maybe a few more got passed out here and there…”
“That’s revolting!” Celine snarled, aghast.
“They won’t be as strong,” Gaeul grumbled, “but that’s why they’re back-ups. Insurance.”
“And most of ‘em are hobos or impoverished,” Man-sik snorted, “so who cares if–”
“Bite your tongue, Man-sik,” Gaeul snapped. Eun and Geum bared their sharp teeth and growled at him.
Man-sik shrunk back, bowing apologetically.
Gaeul stood, morphing into Celine’s form. She checked her face, fixed her make-up. “Regardless… We’re getting close. I can feel myself stretched in all directions.” It was slightly dizzying, admittedly, but the liver had helped take off the edge.
Man-sik helped her put on her fur coat. “Then we’ll be announcing the concert date soon?” he giggled manically, licking the silver tooth.
Gaeul ran a hand through her hair. She looked down at her shadow–her gumiho tails were still visible, something beyond her control, but they more or less matched the nine actual fox tails hanging around her waist. “Right,” she inhaled, “it’s–”
“Gaeul,” Celine said.
Gaeul and Man-sik glared down at her.
“This won’t end well for either of you,” Celine warned. “Stop now, while there’s still time.”
Man-sik cackled. “This crazy woman, ssi…!” He stabbed the floor with his cane.
Gaeul smirked, but Celine could see it was tired. “There’s no stopping this, you foolish child.”
“The world has changed, Gaeul!” Celine exclaimed. “It’s not perfect, but hearts and minds have opened and accepted… accept…” she trailed off. Her last confrontation with Rumi flooded her vision. She squeezed her eyes shut, willed down the nausea. “There’s hope for you just as there is for me.”
“Indeed, the world has changed, I’ll agree with that much,” Gaeul mumbled. She turned away from Celine; Eun whimpered as he rubbed against her leg. “But the rot remains. This new century might’ve plucked the weeds, but many of its roots still taint the soil. This is what the world deserves.”
“Oh, Bobby got you some cheap and stinky perfume, but I dumped it down the toilet immediately!”
“I don’t care.”
Celine went to plead again, yanking on the bars of her cage. “Ga–” She stopped, gasping, as a shimmer of red light passed through the honmoon beneath her. The hairs on her arms stood as she broke into gooseflesh. “Ru–” She clasped a hand over her mouth, afraid the others might’ve heard her.
Gaeul and her lackeys were already gone.
Celine fell forward with a gasp, tears spilling into her bowl of makgeolli. “Rumi…” she whispered, her fingers just barely drawing out the honmoon’s light. “It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. I’ll escape and find you, I swear.”
Celine forced herself to relax, wiping her face dry. She sniffed, focused on her breathing until she was no longer shaking. She firmly placed her hands on the floor where the threads beneath eventually began to glow.
She closed her eyes and concentrated.
“We are hunters, voices strong,” she sang softly, “slaying demons with our song; fix the world and make it right, when the darkness finally meets the night.”
The honmoon pulsed.
“Rumi…” Celine whispered. Inhale, exhale; again. “We are hunters, voices strong… slaying demons with our song…”
—
He should leave. He really should leave. Yeah, this walk-in freezer had a measure of security, and yeah, it was the safest place for him right now, but…
It was the principle of it. He’d been held captive here for days. Sure, they gave him nice things and spruced the place up so it was more like a bedroom than a prison, but in the end, it was still a prison.
A prison with games, music, mood lighting, snacks, furniture, a reasonably comfortable sleeping bag and dozens of pillows, shrouded by wards that diverted Gwi-ma’s probably very divided attention…
“Aish. So annoying.”
Baby fell back in his bed and mound of pillows, angrily chewing a clump of taffy.
Damn that woman. She’d messed with mind, got into his head, scrambled up everything.
Baby felt something poke his hand. He squeezed; a soft crinkle. It was a candy wrapper. He held it up, spreading it open. A gold tinfoil square with white trim.
Not too unlike–
“Nope.” Baby crushed the wrapper, tossed it across the room, and stood up. He pulled his sweater on, tugged down his cap. Stopped as he pushed his hair into place beneath it.
Maybe this outfit wasn’t a good idea. He glanced down at the pile of clothes the girls had brought. Most of them were dirty, but it wasn’t like they were gonna come by and do his laundry. That was his responsibility now.
Baby sighed and rifled through the clothes. He settled on a semi-tight long sleeved shirt, a quilted jacket, his usual plain jeans, and an old floppy bucket hat. To add a little more to his disguise, he changed his hair to black and shoulder length, eyes to brown, brows bushier, and subtle crow's feet. Nothing too drastic.
He’d decide his next move later; right now he just needed to get out and stretch his legs.
Baby could feel a slight pull as he stepped through the door. A soft pinch but nothing more. He peeked out between two window boards, checked to see if anyone was loitering. The area looked empty; he lowered a board to slip out and dash into the alley behind the abandoned diner.
It had rained earlier; the street was slick and puddled, trash scattered in places. He sunk his hands in his jacket’s pockets, kept his head down low, and walked… No real destination in mind. Just walking until he finally came up with something.
The necklace slipped out from under the jacket, dangling in the open. He stopped; cupped the FRIENDS heart piece. He could also see the red thread connecting their pieces stretching out through Seoul.
“If you find yourself getting weak, come to me. This’ll guide you to my side. I’ll give you a ton of offerings.”
"I’m sorry you’ll be alone…”
Baby scoffed and stuffed the necklace back under the jacket. He took out his last cookie and gobbled half of it down.
He didn’t mind being alone; preferred it, actually. He’d been on his own for a very long time.
Although that wasn’t always the case.
There’d been a period when the isolation was almost too much, the loss unbearable. Always having to push people away ‘lest they finally saw him for the aberration that he was.
“Shut up,” Baby grumbled to himself, slouching. He kicked an empty plastic bottle. A cat hissed and darted under a dumpster.
... very far…
Baby gasped, stumbling back. He looked down, seeing his reflection in a puddle. His true face, his corpse-purple skin, yellow demonic eyes, slightly protruding tusks, and those jagged, glowing patterns.
... try… but soon…
“No,” Baby whispered, quivering hands covering his ears.
your shame… binds… forever.
Baby gasped, teleporting back to PORKSLOP. He ran inside the sealed room and slammed the door shut. Slid his inflatable chair and boombox against it for good measure.
Baby panted, terrified, watching the door as he backed away. He expected the seals to melt and fade; the door would open into darkness before hellfire burst forth and filled the room. He’d be forced to try and escape, and with no windows, the only way out would be through, and by the time he had one foot outside, teeth would grow along the frame, massive and sharp, and too late he’d realize he’d run right into the mouth of the beast, his patterns bright and burning and pulling him down, down, down until nothing of him was–
He didn’t know why, but Baby grabbed the necklace, clenched it tight. The teeth, the flames, the mouth disappeared, leaving only the red thread guiding him to safety, a gentle warm light, threads of the honmoon but uniquely hers.
"... you won’t be sad.”
Her voice, why did it sound like her voice? But he could hear Do-hyun speaking alongside her, sick and weak but hopeful as always.
Baby picked a handful of fallen chips from the floor, stuffed them in his mouth. Focus on the flavor, how delicious and wonderful and comforting it was, distracting him from everything. He closed his eyes and alone (at least he thought) he could let the tears fall.
When Baby finally calmed down, he loosened his grip around the necklace. To his surprise, he’d been squeezing so hard he’d left a broken heart imprint in his palm.
—
“At least all that rumor peddling’s quieted down,” Mira groaned as she tiredly stepped into the flat, kicking off her shoes. “Too busy focusing on Celine’s music and soju.”
“Back to normal stuff then!” Zoey exclaimed. Which meant there’d be rumors, just not nearly as much as the past couple days. “Should we bring them up at tomorrow’s interview? Squash them once and for all!”
Rumi walked past them silently.
“Rumi,” Mira called out to her, “do you–”
“I’m gonna take a shower,” Rumi mumbled, shutting her bedroom door behind her.
“I wish she’d talk with us,” Zoey sighed. “Bobby said she was feeling a bit better, but…”
Jinu frowned. “Maybe she needs space…” he mumbled.
“It’s Celine,” Mira insisted. “I know she said everything felt rushed and kind of empty when they made up, but… I didn’t think it was this bad.”
“I wish we could call Celine and just tell her what’s up,” Zoey mumbled, chewing her thumbnail, “but… I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s not much we can do,” Mira replied. “This is between Rumi and Celine. As long as Rumi knows we’re on her side and support her no matter what, that’s what’s important.”
Zoey swallowed a lump forming in her throat. “... Do you think she might be upset with us?” she whispered.
Mira looked at her uncomfortably.
“... When we yelled at her for lying, for conspiring with the Saja Boys,” Zoey said, slowly hugging herself, “it wasn’t even her patterns that bothered us, just in that moment, after everything…” She placed a hand over her trembling mouth. “We pointed our weapons at her–”
Mira swept in, dragging Zoey into a hug. “I know,” she whispered, pressing a cheek to the top of her head, “I regret it even now. I felt my heart shatter then and there; I was so angry and miserable. But Zoey, it’s okay now, I swear it’s okay.”
They had been lied to, betrayed, the heat of the moment had consumed them, and every fiber and sinew of their bodies were intensely sensitive, even breathing, even moving, was torture. They knew why they reacted the way they did, they had their valid reasons and they sure as Hell weren’t going to attack her, but right now that didn’t matter.
They just saw their weapons in their hands pointed at Rumi.
Jinu wanted so badly to reach out and comfort them. He’d played a major part in their fight; temporary or not, it’d left scars. They came out of the darkness brighter and stronger than ever before, but not unscathed.
It’s not you, he wanted to tell them, but it wasn’t his place. He’d done enough damage. Hell, had he even apologized to them in earnest? He’d said it countless times to Rumi, but Mira and Zoey deserved to be told just as much and just the same.
“I…” Jinu began, the words caught in his throat. He clenched a fist, ground his teeth. Nothing would suffice, his apologies would never be enough.
Derpy whimpered, rubbing his face against Jinu’s hand.
Jinu recomposed himself. “I… I’m…” he stammered. Just say it! It wasn’t a matter of pride, God, he’d fall to his knees in shame if that’s what they thought, it just simply wouldn’t feel like enough. “Mira, Zoey… I want to say…”
“It’s okay,” Mira said.
“N-No, it’s not!” Jinu exclaimed, stumbling forward. “I am so, so sorry for everything I did! To you, to Zoey, to Rumi–to your fans! I… I drove you apart, led you to doubt and distrust one another. I’m… I’m the reason you two were almost…” Say it, he had to say it. “Consumed by Gwi-ma!” His tongue burned, he could taste acid in the back of his throat.
Zoey stepped back from Mira. She smiled up at one of her best friends, her sister; she would be all right. Mira understood, and patted her warmly on the arm. “Jinu…” Zoey murmured and turned to face him. He couldn’t look her in the eyes. “So much has happened; we all hurt each other and lost ourselves. And it’ll take time, yeah, and one day we can really hash it all out, but…”
Zoey took Jinu by the hand, silvery threads circling around their wrists before fading. “I forgive you,” she said, just as sincere as her smile.
Jinu’s eyes watered. He bowed low, nearly dropped to his knees. “I’m so sor–”
“We said we forgive you, dork,” Mira scoffed, gently knocking against his head. “Ugh, stand up, you’re so embarrassing.”
Jinu chuckled and stood upright, wiping his eyes. “Whoooa,” Zoey whispered, pulling him closer by his hand. “Ghost tears. I wonder if I can touch them!”
“Now you’ve done it,” Mira scowled, “you’ve ruined the moment.”
Jinu laughed.
—
Rumi stood under the hot water, hands covering her ears and eyes closed.
When she was a child, she would sit under the running water or lay back in the tub and pretend she was beneath a waterfall or at the bottom of the ocean. Alone but at peace, the world of demons and humans so very far away.
Celine would sometimes move her hands and ask, “Where did you go this time? The Congo? Or perhaps the Bermuda Triangle again?”
Rumi would giggle every time. And every time after she answered, Celine would say, “Just remember to come back home when you’re done.”
Rumi opened her eyes and lowered her hands. Back to the real world and all its demons and humans.
“I visited the Titanic,” she mumbled to herself.
It was true. This would take time. Too many years of lies piling up on secrets, shame and hurt buried deep in their DNA. And even though Celine’s words hadn’t felt as strong as they should have, they were the start; most beginnings tended to be rough anyway. They could move forward with the healing process now, that was what was important.
And she couldn’t stay down for too long.
After breaking apart in front of Bobby, he had her sit down while he went to fetch a can of tea from the vending machine. He came back and plopped on the floor next to her.
“Pour the tea,” Bobby insisted, opening and offering the can to Rumi, “that’s the saying, right?”
Rumi couldn’t help but laugh. Although her responses had been vague and boiled down to “stress,” it felt nice to talk with him. He listened and commented where appropriate. Threw in jokes that were so awful they were kind of hilarious. Shared an anecdote from his life that really could not compare to the truth of Rumi’s, but it was still much appreciated.
Things would be okay. She should be happy for Celine right now; she’d always supported HUNTR/X, it was time she did the same. As unusual as her behavior might be, it was refreshing to see her shed some of her self-inflicted restraints and loosen up.
Rumi dried herself off quickly, threw on her pajamas and slippers. She opened her door and beamed.
Mira and Zoey looked up from their dinner, Jinu chomping down an offering of grapes.
“I wanna laugh ‘til I throw up,” Rumi demanded, “someone turn on a comedy. I’ll make the popcorn!”
Although it was a bit late and they’d nearly finished their meals, Mira and Zoey instantly took off–Mira to find a film, Zoey to fill the living area with blankets and plushes. Derpy dove into the pile, only his swishing tail visible.
“Laugh ‘til you throw up, huh?” Jinu snorted. “That’s the new definition of a ‘good time,’ I guess?”
Rumi shoved him onto the couch. “You’ve got a lot of movie catching up to do, great-times-400 grandpa.”
Notes:
From the music video, the actor playing Mira's brother looked like he was in his mid-late teens? In this fic, Seo-jun is around 18 to 19, maaaybe 20 years, with Mira being 23-24 as per canon.
FriendofAnon on Chapter 1 Wed 27 Aug 2025 04:11PM UTC
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eyemeohmy on Chapter 1 Sat 30 Aug 2025 02:52AM UTC
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ToonQueen on Chapter 1 Mon 01 Sep 2025 04:00AM UTC
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eyemeohmy on Chapter 1 Mon 01 Sep 2025 04:11AM UTC
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ro_blaze on Chapter 2 Mon 01 Sep 2025 02:22PM UTC
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eyemeohmy on Chapter 2 Sat 06 Sep 2025 12:19AM UTC
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ToonQueen on Chapter 2 Wed 03 Sep 2025 04:14AM UTC
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eyemeohmy on Chapter 2 Sat 06 Sep 2025 12:19AM UTC
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sunflwrsandprettyskies on Chapter 2 Sun 07 Sep 2025 02:06PM UTC
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ro_blaze on Chapter 3 Mon 01 Sep 2025 03:41PM UTC
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eyemeohmy on Chapter 3 Sat 06 Sep 2025 12:19AM UTC
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KNY_TEA_PARTY on Chapter 3 Thu 04 Sep 2025 01:34PM UTC
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eyemeohmy on Chapter 3 Sat 06 Sep 2025 12:18AM UTC
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KNY_TEA_PARTY on Chapter 3 Sat 06 Sep 2025 09:43AM UTC
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ToonQueen on Chapter 3 Sat 06 Sep 2025 04:54AM UTC
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ToonQueen on Chapter 3 Mon 08 Sep 2025 05:17AM UTC
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Roween_0 on Chapter 4 Fri 05 Sep 2025 03:10PM UTC
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eyemeohmy on Chapter 4 Sat 06 Sep 2025 12:18AM UTC
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KNY_TEA_PARTY on Chapter 5 Sun 07 Sep 2025 10:18AM UTC
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