To Be Human

by xerxesbathory5571

Summary:

After helping the Saja Boys confront their darkest scars, Huntrix is ready to return to the stage as their three-month hiatus comes to an end.

But the world of music waits for no one — and the Saja Boys must also find a way to live with their second chance as humans, stepping back into the idol industry.

With Huntrix by their side, the boys learn to navigate fame, pressure, and the fragile bonds of love that begin to blossom inside everyone.

Yet healing is never easy, and neither the stage lights nor the crowds can erase the past.

How will Huntrix and the Saja Boys grow together?

How will the Saja Boys learn to survive in the idol industry as humans — stripped of the supernatural talents that once defined them, and forced to stand on stage with nothing but their voices, their dancing, and their scars?

And most importantly — how do demons who have only ever known suffering begin to truly love?

(Sequel to ‘How to be Human’. It is highly suggested to read that first to understand Saja boy backstories and context of the plot)

Chapter 1: Breaking Dawn

Summary:

Huntrix discuss their own and Saja Boy’s future.

Notes:

THE SEQUEL IS FINALLY HERE HOORAY!!

The soft hum of the air conditioning mingled with the faint echo of footsteps in the room, creating a steady rhythm that seemed almost soothing.

The room itself was large and rectangular, a dance practice room that bore the marks of countless rehearsals. There were scuff marks from shoes across the polished wooden floor, mirrors smudged faintly by the press of hands, the faint lingering scent of sweat and fabric softener from old hoodies.

Yet, although they were sprawled comfortably on the carpet with blankets, pillows, and snacks scattered in messy piles, the atmosphere was anything but calm.

A current of tension rippled silently between them, like the quiet before a storm.

Rumi sat with her legs crossed, posture upright with her hands placed neatly on her knees.

Her eyes remained sharp and focused, as if she were ready to spring into action at any moment.

She looked composed, but beneath the calm surface, her chest churned a mixture of anticipation and unease that refused to settle.

Across from her sat Bobby, their manager.

His neatly kept black hair looked oddly out of place compared to the soft red sweater and grey sweatpants he wore, his casual outfit clashing with the professionalism in his manner.

He was a cheery and lively man, far kinder and more patient than most managers in the industry, but right now his dark eyes held a seriousness that was rare.

“The hiatus is over,” Bobby said finally, breaking the silence that had stretched too long. His voice was calm, but it carried firmness. “We need to talk about how you’re going to move forward. About dancing, singing, choreography, and the potential release of new songs.”

Zoey tilted her head, her ponytail shifting as she moved. Her bubbly brown eyes narrowed with curiosity rather than worry.

“I don’t see why you’re so worried all of a sudden,” she said, her voice soft but edged with confusion. “This has never been your concern before.”

On the floor by the couch, Mira was perched against the cushions, legs sprawled lazily in front of her as she nibbled on sweets from a plastic bag.

She raised her head at Bobby’s words and frowned. “I agree. I know this is our first big hiatus, but surely we don’t need to call a meeting to discuss our future, right?”

“Well…” Bobby chuckled awkwardly, but his laughter trailed off quickly as he glanced between Rumi and the other girls. “There’s also the matter of explaining why the Saja Boys have been living with you for the past four months.”

Rumi’s jaw tightened ever so slightly at the mention of them.

She had known this conversation was inevitable. The longer the boys remained here, the more questions Bobby would naturally have.

Even if the rest of the world already knew bits and pieces, even if rumors swirled endlessly online, saying it out loud in this small room reminded her of just how fragile everything was.

One wrong word, and the foundation they had carefully built these last three months might crumble.

The Saja Boys had been living with them ever since they turned human and their sudden disappearance after the catastrophe at Namsan Tower — a catastrophe no one remembered except Huntrix and the boys themselves.

To everyone else, it had been a blackout, a strange blip in their minds.

But for those who had fought, it had been blood and fire and screams.

But as they were seen as rivals before, the idea of living together should have been impossible, laughable even.

Living under the same roof was the last thing anyone would have predicted.

And yet…here they were, bound by shared secrets, tragedy, and something much heavier and darker than just music.

“Bobby,” Rumi began at last, her voice measured, carefully neutral. “We’ve actually considered that already.”

Mira scoffed under her breath, tossing another sweet into her mouth. “That's all she can think about these days. The fans, and what she’ll tell them. But I don’t think it will be a major issue.”

“The boys are part of our extended team now,” Zoey chimed in quickly, her voice bright with determination. Her lips curved into a warm smile that seemed to light up her entire face. “We’ll come up with a reason that fits. Something plausible. Something to maintain what we have, while also inserting them in our lives.”

The sound of her hopeful voice softened the edges of Rumi’s worry. She turned to Zoey and said, “We will. I mean, you’ve already got like sixty-four ideas ready.”

Zoey leaned forward eagerly, black hair bouncing as she perched on the edge of her chair. Her eyes practically sparkled, brimming with excitement despite the weight of the conversation.

“Yeah! We can do it! It’ll be fine! We’ve handled stranger situations before, right?”

“Exactly. See? We got it handled,” Mira said dryly, though her voice softened just slightly at the end. She let out a low groan, her arms folding tightly across her chest. “I just want to get back to dancing. All this discussion about explanations…it’s exhausting.”

Bobby laughed lightly at her bluntness.

“I get it, girls. But fans are curious. Very curious,” he said. His tone was gentle, but beneath it was a warning. “The curiosity of the fans can be dangerous. That’s why we need a plan. However…it seems you girls got it under control.”

Zoey threw him a playful thumbs-up. “You got it! Just leave it to us!”

Bobby gave a small nod, though his brow remained furrowed.

“Make sure to ask if you need help. I am your manager, after all, so let me in on your plans.” His voice dropped a notch, serious once more.

“Speaking of plans…” he mumbled. “What are you girls planning to do with the Saja Boys? They’ve kind of been living here rent-free. Do they not have a job?”

Rumi exchanged a glance with Zoey and Mira. That glance stretched longer than it should have, a silent conversation laced with heaviness.

They had always wanted to tell Bobby the truth. To reveal the world he couldn’t see.

But doing so would shatter everything he thought he knew.

To Bobby, the Saja Boys were just a group of boys who had dropped out of school too soon to become idols, dropped out of that too, and were now freeloading in their rivals’ apartment.

What he didn’t know was that the Saja Boys were centuries older than him.

That they had been chained by fire, tormented by a wall of fire they called king, whose laughter and whispers could scar any soul.

That they carried a life of guilt, shame, and memories that no human would ever be able to comprehend.

Finally, Rumi let out a sigh. She shifted her hands onto her lap, grounding herself.

“They need to learn to live as humans first. Proper humans. To put it short, they’ve lived, uh…difficult lives. Lives most people wouldn’t imagine,” Rumi tried to explain. “They need to learn how to live properly again, how to work, how to do…human stuff.”

Her words hung in the air, heavier than Bobby realized. He couldn’t possibly understand the depth of what she meant, but he recognized the sincerity in her tone.

Beside her, Zoey cupped her hands and whisper-shouted into Bobby’s ear, “They have trauma.”

Bobby blinked, caught between confusion and concern. He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Is that what you’ve been doing for the past three months Helping them…live again and recover?”

Huntrix glanced at each other, fumbling immediately, their words tripping over each other.

“Well- uh…it’s a bit more complicated than that-”

“I mean one of them literally killed my fath-”

“Erm…it would probably take another you know three centuries before they’re recovered but YES,” Mira cut in firmly, cutting off the unraveling chaos.

Rumi and Zoey nodded quickly, their heads bobbing in unison like guilty children.

Bobby rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Based on what you’re saying, it would be hard to help them. And I’m sure you girls don’t want to push them too hard.

He paused, a glint beginning to shine in his eyes as an idea popped into his head.

“Do you think…debuting them again as idols could work?” He said. “I don’t want you girls to be giving your life helping the Saja boys, but they seem like they’re struggling too. Going back to idol work is certainly possible. After all, they were really good before.”

Rumi blinked, caught slightly off guard by the suggestion. “That…could work. They were extremely successful before, and it aligns with their skill sets. If we clear the controversies between us then…they can grow alongside us!”

Zoey’s eyes widened, lighting up instantly. She almost bounced in place, her excitement barely contained. “Oh! That could actually work! And they have past experience too! We can be idols together!”

Mira let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “You’re hopelessly optimistic, Zoey.”

“Come on, Mira! It would be fun! Imagine, Abby and Romance dancing by your side, singing ‘Golden’ together…” Zoey trailed off dreamily, her eyes glowing as though watching a vision unfold.

“Hey- what are you implying!?” Mira snapped, heat rising in her tone.

Bobby grinned, clearly amused despite his confusion. “I’m sure their success will continue once they stand on stage again, especially with the right guidance. And it would only grow more once you girls stand with them.”

Rumi felt a spark of hope. The idea was perfect, and it was completely possible.

For the first time in weeks, she saw the faint flicker of a real path forward for the Saja boys.

The Saja Boys were ready for a second chance as humans, whether they realized it themselves or not.

“Alright,” Rumi said finally, taking a deep breath and straightening her posture. “I’ll find Jinu. He should be the first to hear about this.”

—

Jinu’s smile faltered when he received the news. The light in his eyes dimmed slightly, and his lips pressed together in thought.

Rumi chuckled sheepishly, leaning closer. “Are you not…excited?”

Jinu quickly looked up, shaking his head and waving his hands. “No no! I am excited. I mean, I would have never thought me and the others would get a chance to perform with you guys. Well…I would have never thought I would still be alive here either…”

The last part slipped out softer, almost a whisper, his gaze flicking toward Bobby, who thankfully didn’t hear.

“Then what’s wrong? You look awfully serious all of a sudden,” Rumi asked gently.

“It’s just…you might want to hear what I have to say first,” Jinu said. His voice steadied, his face smoothing into something more solemn.

Rumi glanced at Zoey and Mira, then gave him the smallest nod, signaling him to continue.

Jinu inhaled slowly before speaking. “Well…I’m just not sure whether we’re still able to perform without the…advantages we had before.”

A shadow crossed his expression, his voice dipping into the weight of memory. The name burned unspoken between them — Gwi-ma.

He continued. “Some of what we had…wasn’t natural. They were gifts from Gwi-ma. Gifts to ensure the success of our previous mission. But now that he’s gone, we don’t really…”

Zoey tilted her head, her brow furrowing as she tried to piece it together. “Alright then, what can you do as humans? What is natural to you?”

Jinu frowned, his jaw tightening.

“My dance skills and my voice were gifts,” he admitted. “Sure, I wasn’t the worst at singing, but the high notes for example weren’t something that came naturally to me. But my skill with instruments and composing was a natural talent I had.”

He went on, his tone even despite the constant twitching and fiddling of his fingers.

“Abby’s voice is a gift, but he has a natural skill for dancing,” Jinu explained. “Baby is really bad at dancing, and his natural singing voice is even worse. Those skills were gifts. But his rapping and lyric-writing skills are natural talents of his.”

“So, Baby naturally talks fast?” Mira concluded.

“Yeah, basically. Rapping is basically talking so it’s got nothing to do with his singing voice,” Jinu clarified.

“And Mystery?” Zoey asked.

“Mystery’s singing voice is natural, but his dance skills are a gift. Which is kind of strange since his talent to map out and create amazing choreography in his head is natural…but he can’t dance,” Jinu said. His lips twitched faintly, as if the irony wasn’t lost on him. “Romance…his dancing is a gift. The singing voice you guys heard was also a gift, but his natural singing voice is still beautiful too.”

Mira frowned, chewing on his words. “Why didn’t he use his natural voice during performances if he’s that good?”

Jinu hesitated, his eyes dimming further. “Well…you guys know his story and the grief he endured. Let’s just say, all the screaming he let out damaged his vocal cords.”

Rumi’s eyes widened, her heart twisting in sudden empathy.

Mira’s lips pressed into a thin line, emotions flickering in her usually cool demeanor.

Even Zoey’s brightness faltered, weighed down by the heaviness of what they were learning.

Bobby blinked, looking lost. “Wait…gifts? Some of these talents can be gifted? And also, what the heck did that Romance guy go through?”

Rumi quickly placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing a small smile. “Don’t worry about it. And gift is only a metaphor Jinu likes to use.”

“Who’s Gwi-ma then?” Bobby asked, brows furrowed.

“Uh…” Rumi glanced desperately at Mira and Zoey.

“His abusive father,” Zoey blurted out.

“Their abusive manager,” Mira said at the same time.

Rumi fumbled awkwardly. “He’s…Jinu’s erm, dad who is also the Saja boys manager. Let’s just say he wasn’t a great manager, nor was he a good dad.”

Bobby blinked, then slowly nodded. “I see.”

Jinu’s lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile before he turned back to Rumi.

“Anyway…we had help in our previous success. That help isn’t here anymore. If we want to try to debut again, we need to see what we truly can do on our own and then try and learn what we don’t from scratch.”

Zoey’s eyes brightened with determination, cutting through the heaviness. “Who’s to say you don’t have help anymore? We’re still here, aren’t we?”

Warmth flickered in Rumi’s chest again, fragile but steady.

“Exactly,” she murmured, smiling faintly. “We can do it, together. We can stand on stage, side by side…as humans.”

Mira let out another dry laugh, though this time there was a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re all ridiculously optimistic, you know that? But they’re right. You have us now. If you want to become idols again, we can help.”

Jinu’s grin returned, wide and bright. “Okay. I’m excited again. Let’s do this.”

—

As the girls left for the studio with Bobby to begin writing their new song, Jinu rounded up all the Saja Boys in the living room.

The boys gathered quickly, curiosity crackling in the air.

The couch sagged beneath their weight as they sat, hair still damp from showers, loungewear mismatched and wrinkled from sleep.

They looked a mess, but their eyes were bright and filled with life. Something that wasn’t there before.

They had lived too long in the shadows.

Each of them carried scars invisible to the human eye. Scars that came from centuries of torment, betrayal, and survival.

Abby still woke up some nights drenched in sweat, haunted by the smell of smoke and the screams of villagers.

Romance carried an ache deeper than bone, a hollow place where love had once been but was now replaced with guilt.

Mystery’s nightmares still chained him in burning rooms, bound and helpless while he thrashed around.

Baby was sometimes caught staring at children with their parents for too long, then he would laugh like the grief wasn’t swallowing him whole.

Jinu himself also carried a burden: the knowledge that his pursuit of comfort once left his family in ruins.

And yet…something had changed.

For centuries they had been forced to suppress, to endure, to remain unmoved by the horrors forced upon them.

But after the battle, after Gwi-ma’s fall, and after they met Huntrix, something in their chests had cracked open.

At first, it had been unbearable.

They were encouraged to shatter the chains that bound their heart, crack open the walls that kept them safe, and let all their emotions run wild.

But little by little, letting those emotions breathe, sharing them with one another, and even admitting them aloud had begun to bring them back together.

They were still wounded, still imperfect, but they were beginning to heal.

For the first time in lifetimes, they were no longer demons bound by fire.

They were human.

“They want us to debut again,” Jinu announced, his eyes gleaming with a mix of disbelief and renewed energy.

Immediately, every boy sat up straighter, sparks of excitement flickering to life.

Abby’s deep pink hair shimmered in the sunlight as he bounced slightly in place. “Wait, really? You’re not lying, are you?”

Romance let out a cheer that was half laughter, half wonder. “We can be idols again!”

“Does this mean we can stand on stage? And sing, and dance and…” Baby’s eyes glimmered mischievously as he remembered the roar of crowds chanting his name.

Mystery, seated calmly beside him, smirked faintly in amusement as he watched Baby’s ego inflate.

“Wait…hold on,” Abby cut in suddenly, his voice dropping low, serious.

His playful demeanor slipped away as fast as it came.

“How do we…” he hesitated, glancing at Jinu, “…have you told them about…”

Jinu blinked once, then nodded in understanding. “Yeah. I have.”

“Oh, you mean our talents?” Romance asked, leaning forward.

“Yeah. Or rather, the talent we did not have,” Jinu stated.

Mystery’s voice entered the space for the first time.

“How do we become idols if most of us don't have the skills we need?” he asked.

“To be honest, I don’t know,” Jinu admitted. “Huntrix said they’ll try their best to help us debut again, as they believe this is the best course of action going forward as humans since we already have experience with fans and being idols.”

He paused, his jaw tightening. “I’m…not sure how they are trying to help us succeed, but…I trust their judgment.”

“I mean, yeah. After everything they’ve…done for us. I trust them,” Abby said after a pause. His nod was a little stiff, but it was firm, filled with sincerity.

The others exchanged looks of agreement.

Baby suddenly leapt up from the couch. “Imagine us, on stage again. Under the spotlight, dancing that weird ‘Soda Pop’ choreography and singing together…well- I won’t be the one singing.”

“Don’t worry, you can’t sound worse than me,” Romance replied, his tone light, but underneath it was a twinge of sadness, a reference to his damaged vocal cords.

His words drew out laughter, genuine, but filled with a slight darkness nobody could explain.

But for a moment, the room was warm with sound.

There was a new flicker of the life in them that had once carried them through countless performances. And beneath it all, the fragile but unyielding belief that perhaps this was their chance.

“Then it’s settled,” Jinu said, his voice steady and resolute. “We’ll try. No matter what it takes, we’ll try.”

The boys exchanged glances, excitement passing silently between them.

Even without supernatural powers, the thought of stepping onto a stage again, together, as a team, sent a thrill through their veins, a reminder that no matter the past, the future was theirs to claim.

Notes:

This took so long to write I am so tired 😭

But I hope you guys enjoyed :)

I want to mention, updates will be much slower compared to my previous fanfic schedule of almost daily. This is because of school and work.

If I ever take a super long time, just be assured that I haven’t abandoned it and I am probably just very busy lol

As well as this, another KPDH fanfic I am writing is out now, called ‘Demons, Death and Dumb Decisions’ so go ahead and check that out too!

I am writing them at the same time, which is another reason why updates maybe slower

Chapter 2: Resonate through Sound

Summary:

Saja Boys begin vocal and dance training.

The following morning began not with birdsong or the gentle lull of sunrise, but with the unmistakable sound of Bobby’s voice cutting through the kitchen like a conductor whipping an orchestra into motion.

“Budget for comeback teasers… still too high. We can’t afford those CGI dragons and lighting Zoey suggested,” he muttered to himself at his laptop, his words sharp as his fingers clattering over the keyboard with feverish speed.

The kitchen counter looked like a war zone, with open binders stacked on top of each other, receipts peeking out at odd angles, sticky notes in a rainbow of colors plastered across contracts, and Bobby himself in the middle of it all.

His normally neat black hair stuck out in wild tufts, like he’d been pulling at it in frustration.

The sleeves of his cardigan sagged around his elbows, sweater wrinkled and stained faintly with spilled coffee.

His phone buzzed against the tabletop. He snatched it up with one hand, never pausing the furious typing with the other.

“Yes, yes, I got your email. We’ll need to move the concert date forward then,” he said, his voice bouncing off the kitchen walls. “Yes, I know the Saja Boys aren’t technically registered yet, but- well, just leave it to me!”

The girls of Huntrix crept past the kitchen like children avoiding their parent’s bad mood.

They peeked in long enough to exchange glances: Zoey biting her lip to hold back laughter, Mira rolling her eyes, and Rumi merely exhaling in a way that said she’d seen this a hundred times before.

It wasn’t often they saw Bobby in full managerial overdrive.

Normally he was the type of manager who reminded them to drink water, who brought them late-night snacks, who never raised his voice.

But when the workload piled up with contracts, sponsors and comeback promotions, a different Bobby emerged.

His cheery self was still there, only it was buried under the avalanche of stress. In its place bloomed a flurry of phone calls, emails, and muttered curses at spreadsheets.

“Should we help him?” Zoey whispered as they moved into the living room.

Rumi shook her head firmly. “He’ll manage. It’s what he does best.”

“Besides,” Mira added, smirking, “the last thing he needs is Zoey suggesting a rainbow-colored smoke machine again.”

Zoey’s mouth fell open in mock offense. “It would’ve been epic!”

“Epic disaster,” Mira muttered.

Zoey crossed her arms but didn’t argue further because at that moment, Rumi clapped her hands with authority.

Her tone shifted, the playful banter slipping away as she stepped into the role of leader for both the girls and the boys.

“Alright, boys. Today’s the first step to your re-debut. And to start, we have…vocal training!”

The declaration was met with groans, eye-rolls, and one particularly dramatic flop onto the sofa cushions from Abby, who grabbed a pillow and smothered his face beneath it.

“Do we really have to? It’s so early in the morning,” he mumbled, his voice muffled but still loud enough to rattle the half-empty snack bags on the coffee table.

“Yes,” Rumi said, tone sharp and uncompromising.

She stood tall, hands on her hips, purple hair gleaming faintly in the morning rays of sun beaming through the penthouse window.

“If you’re serious about this, we start with the basics. And that means singing.”

“Some of us were naturals already,” Romance cut in smoothly, flicking his long pink hair back as if he were in the middle of a shampoo commercial. His eyes glimmered with exaggerated, almost forced, self-assurance. “How hard can it be?”

Zoey giggled into her hand. “You say that now…”

The portable keyboard was dragged into the center of the living room.

Rumi positioned herself in front of it, her posture radiating both patience and strictness.

Her sharp gaze swept over each boy in turn, though when her eyes lingered briefly on Jinu, something softer flickered beneath the steel.

“Alright,” she said. “Warm-ups first. Everyone stand up.”

The boys lined up in a crooked row, each carrying their own flavor of reluctance.

Mystery stood at the far end, his back straight as a ruler, face hidden behind his curtain of silver-purple hair.

Beside him, Jinu adjusted his stance like he was preparing for battle, shoulders tense but cooperative.

Romance posed more than he stood, as if the exercise was secretly a photoshoot.

Abby shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, and Baby slouched so low it looked like his bones had melted.

“Okay,” Rumi instructed. “We’ll start simple. Humming. Just follow me.”

Her lips parted, and she let out a steady hum, warm and perfectly pitched.

The boys joined in.

Mystery’s hum slipped out effortlessly, velvety smooth, the kind of gentle sound that would hush an entire room.

Jinu followed with a hum that was pleasant, though a little shaky on the edges, like he wasn’t quite sure how much of himself he was allowed to give away.

Abby’s hum wavered all over the place, his pitch sliding unpredictably like a car on ice.

Romance began with confidence but his voice cracked midway into a strangled croak. He grimaced.

And then there was Baby.

“MMMMMHHHHHHHHRRRRRRGHHHH!” His sound rattled the windows.

Zoey squeaked, slapping a hand over her mouth to keep from bursting out. Mira didn’t bother; she outright snorted, clutching her stomach.

Rumi pinched the bridge of her nose. “Baby, you’re not supposed to sound like you’re summoning a demon.”

“I am a demon,” he replied, lowering the pillow enough to flash a smug grin.

“Not anymore,” Mira deadpanned without missing a beat.

The warm-ups continued with scales. Rumi’s voice glided like silk: “Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do.”

Jinu followed carefully, hitting most of the notes after a moment’s concentration.

Abby attempted and failed spectacularly, his pitch veering so far off that Zoey actually winced.

Mystery sang the scale with ease, his voice steady and smooth like liquid.

Zoey’s jaw dropped. “Okay, Mystery just casually sounding like an angel.”

Baby leaned forward, grinning. “Correction: a depressed angel with bangs.”

The others snickered, though Mystery didn’t look impressed.

Then Romance opened his mouth.

The first note faltered, raspy and broken.

He tried again, harder, pushing like force alone could resurrect the voice he once had. Croak.

His hands curled at his sides, nails digging into his palms.

The ghost of his old voice — smooth, entrancing, adored — haunted him with every strained attempt.

And finally, Baby’s turn.

“DO-rAY-ME-FUH-SoOo-LAeaA—!” His voice cracked like glass splintering in three directions at once, ending in a noise so horrific that Mira hurled a pillow at his face.

“You sound like a dying goose,” she said flatly.

Baby caught the pillow and hugged it. “Geese are majestic creatures.”

“You’re not majestic,” Abby muttered, smirking.

The chaos continued for half an hour.

The room filled with laughter, groans, failed attempts, and Rumi’s increasingly desperate attempts to restore order.

She corrected posture, clapped out rhythms, guided their breathing.

She praised Mystery, encouraged Jinu gently, sighed heavily at Abby, and threw exasperated glares at Baby so sharp they could’ve been daggers.

“Okay,” she said at last, rubbing her temples. “That’s enough warm-up. Let’s try actual lines from a song.”

One by one, the boys sang.

Mystery’s voice silenced the room. It was low, steady, with a haunting timbre that resonated long after he’d stopped.

Even Bobby, still muttering in the kitchen, paused mid-sentence on his call, brow furrowing as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

Jinu’s turn came next.

His tone was warm, gentle, threaded with quiet strength.

It wasn’t flawless, but it carried a truth to it that made the others glance his way with subtle admiration.

After all, it’s been a long time since he sang with his genuine voice and not the gift of a demon king.

Abby’s pitch wandered like a lost tourist without GPS. Rumi corrected him kindly, though Mira muttered, “lost cause,” from the sidelines.

Baby’s attempt was so atrocious Zoey collapsed onto the floor, laughing so hard she kicked her legs in the air.

But when it came to Romance, the mood shifted.

He opened his mouth, and nothing came out but a painful rasp.

He tried again, and the note cracked.

A third time, and his voice strained so badly it hurt to listen.

Shame wrapped itself around him like chains, dragging him back into memories of the beauty of his voice…a voice that no longer existed.

He forced a smile, laughed it off too quickly. But his hands trembled at his sides.

“Romance,” Rumi said gently, softening her tone. “Don’t push yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he cut in, sharp, too sharp. He pasted on a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “I just…I’m gonna go get some water. Keep going without me.”

He spun toward the door.

The others exchanged silent glances, each recognizing the cracks in his mask, but no one stopped him as he left.

Later that afternoon, the focus shifted, and they decided to begin some dance practice.

The group gathered in the mirrored studio, a different battlefield altogether.

Mira stood at the front, arms crossed, gaze sharp as a blade. Where Rumi balanced firmness with patience, Mira was all edge and fire.

“Alright, losers,” she barked. “Time to move your bodies.”

Abby cracked his knuckles with a grin. “Finally. My time to shine.”

Baby groaned, dragging his feet. “We just survived Rumi’s torture session.”

“This will be way worse,” Mira promised, a smirk painted on her face.

And she delivered exactly what she said she would.

The warm-up turned chaotic instantly.

Abby, surprisingly graceful, hit every move with precision, his body moving like it had always known rhythm.

Jinu tried hard, brows furrowed, but his limbs were stiff, mechanical, more soldier than dancer.

Mystery understood the choreography. His hands traced the flow of steps perfectly and his timing was on spot.

But when he tried to execute them, his movements faltered, stiff like a marionette tugged by tangled strings.

Romance tripped twice, his tall frame colliding awkwardly with his own feet.

And Baby-

“Left foot, Baby!” Mira snapped.

“I am using my left foot!” he shouted back, spinning the wrong direction.

“That’s your right!”

“No, it’s your left!”

“No I- what?” Mira slapped her forehead. “Do you even know basic anatomy?”

Baby smirked. “I know I look good. Does that count?”

“No!” Everyone chorused.

The chaos continued, Zoey clapping supportively from the sidelines. “You’re all doing great!”

“No, they’re not,” Mira shot back.

Even Rumi had to admit Abby impressed her with how easily he picked things up.

Mystery, meanwhile, surprised them all by pausing mid-dance, stepping aside to sketch movements with his hands.

“If you sync this step here with the beat drop…then transition with this spin…” His designs were brilliant, flowing seamlessly with the music.

“Did you just…make an entirely new choreography for this song?” Mira asked, face twisted in disbelief.

“He can’t dance it, but he can design it,” Jinu scoffed, half admiration, half exasperation.

Mystery only shrugged.

The practice dragged on, filled with grunts, near-collisions, and Baby tripping so often Mira threatened to tape his feet together.

Yet beneath the chaos, laughter threaded through. Even their failures sparked warmth. It was messy, flawed, but that meant they were human.

Then, Baby spun too quickly, stumbling mid-step.

His smile flickered, then he froze, swaying about like the floor had tilted beneath him. His body went slack for the briefest second.

“Baby?” Abby lunged forward, catching him before he could hit the floor.

The room stilled. Concern sharpened the air as everyone turned.

Baby blinked, his skin paler than usual, his grin gone.

His breaths came too shallow, too fast. He forced a tiny laugh, waving a shaky hand. “I’m fine. Just dizzy. Don’t stop on my account.”

But his voice was thin, and sweat beaded faintly at his temple.

The dizziness clung to him, making his movements sluggish with a sudden exhaustion as if gravity itself pulled harder on him.

His eyes, usually lit with mischief, seemed dulled, glazed over.

Jinu’s sharp gaze lingered on him, suspicion hidden behind calm.

Romance frowned, arms tightening across his chest.

Mystery’s expression didn’t shift, but his eyes followed Baby longer than anyone else’s.

“Maybe he overexerted himself…?” Rumi suggested. “It’s been a long time since they’ve danced. And they’ve only been human for three months.”

Mira exhaled, the sharpness in her face softening. “Alright. That’s enough for today. We’ll pick this up tomorrow.”

Baby straightened weakly, flashing a smile though it trembled at the edges. He raised both hands. “See? I got us out of class. You’re welcome.”

The joke earned a few reluctant chuckles, but the unease didn’t lift.

Notes:

remember when I said updates will be slow? Well, they should be. I just kind of got excited and locked in for this chapter lol

Luckily for you guys, I’ve finished the draft for the next two chapters, I just need to go back and check it through, so expect 2 more within the next week :)

Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

Chapter 3: To Bloom like Roses

Summary:

Huntrix and the Saja boys share a moment.

The studio’s mirrored walls gleamed faintly beneath the humming fluorescent lights, reflecting every twitch, every fumble, every ounce of energy left clinging to the exhausted group.

It was mid-afternoon, and despite the marathon practices that had nearly broken them yesterday, everyone had been dragged back here again.

The weight of fatigue lingered in their limbs and muscles, but so did an unmistakable buzz of anticipation.

Mira stood front and center, arms folded, her sharp eyes cutting across the room like blades. But for once, she wasn’t the only one shepherding the chaos.

Zoey leaned lazily against the stereo, flashing a cheeky grin at the boys gathered before them. “You’re not going to survive this lesson without us.”

“Correction,” Mira replied flatly, tightening her ponytail as she glanced back at the group. “I wasn’t going to survive teaching all of you idiots alone. With backup, at least the pain is shared.”

Romance raised his hand with mock innocence, his light pink hair gleaming under the lights. “Are we really that bad?”

“Yes,” Mira, Abby, and Rumi all answered at the same time, their voices overlapping with perfect precision.

Romance gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Wow. The audacity. Betrayal has never cut so deep.”

Rumi shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her efforts to remain composed.

Jinu chuckled softly from the sidelines, though his eyes betrayed quiet amusement more than outright laughter.

Abby leaned lazily against the mirror, his grin wide and smug, clearly enjoying the dramatics.

And then there was Mystery, who stood slightly apart from the rest.

His silver-purple hair fell into his face, hiding his eyes, but even his usual composure seemed to crack.

He shifted, his gaze darting anywhere but the mirrors, as though avoiding the reflection of himself, or the stiff movements of his dance.

Zoey noticed instantly. She tilted her head, curiosity glimmering, and her smile widened just a little.

“Okay!” Mira clapped her hands together, loud enough to command silence. “Warm-up first. Stretch. Loosen your bodies, or you’ll regret it tomorrow.”

Her tone left no room for argument.

Abby dropped to the floor without hesitation, stretching his legs with practiced ease, every movement annoyingly flawless. “Well, that isn’t too hard for me. Flexibility is a gift, and I was born with an abundance of it.”

“Or an abundance of ego,” Mira muttered under her breath.

Baby snorted and then bent forward, groaning as if he were eighty. Then he winced. “Ugh, my spine. It’s over for me. This is where I die. Tell the fans I loved them.”

“You don’t have fans,” Mira shot back immediately.

“Excuse you?” Baby snapped upright, teal hair falling into his eyes as he jabbed a finger at her. “I am a national treasure. People weep in the streets when I smile.”

“That’s only because you probably robbed them of their wallets,” Romance said, smirking while he leaned lazily against the wall.

Baby shot him a glare, then dropped back onto the floor to copy Abby stretching his legs. He let out another wince.

Zoey burst out laughing, nearly toppling over as she bent to touch her toes. “Oh my god, Baby, you sound like my dad when he pretends to work out.”

“Don’t compare me to your dad,” Baby grumbled. “I’m youthful. Vibrant. Beautiful.”

“You’re a menace and almost ten times my dad’s age,” Mira corrected.

Meanwhile, Mystery had barely moved, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot like a soldier out of place.

His hands flexed uselessly at his sides, as though unsure whether to mimic Abby or simply disappear.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, he bent into a stiff stretch, looking like every joint in his body protested.

Zoey’s grin widened further.

“Not bad,” she teased.

Mystery’s lips pressed into a thin line, the tips of his ears going pink.

Zoey blinked at him, then broke into giggles. He didn’t answer.

“Hey!” Abby clapped his hands dramatically. “Eyes on me. Look at this form.”

He bent backward into a deep stretch that looked like it belonged in a yoga manual, his pink hair tumbling over his shoulders. “Look how graceful I am. I could be a ballerina.”

“More like a disaster waiting to happen,” Mira said dryly, though her lips twitched as if suppressing a smile.

“Fine then.” Abby huffed, crossing his arms. “But at least I don’t sound like I’m being tortured by demons every time I bend forward.”

He jabbed a thumb at Baby, who had collapsed dramatically onto the floor.

“Shut up, Abby,” Baby groaned, sprawled flat on his back like a corpse. “I’m channeling the floor. We’re becoming one.”

Zoey crouched beside him and poked his cheek. “So you’re admitting you’re dirt?”

Baby shot up, scandalized. “You little-!”

Zoey darted away, laughing as Baby scrambled after her.

“Stop running in my studio!” Mira barked, but her voice was nearly drowned out by their chaos.

Rumi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “How did you guys survive rehearsals without us?”

The warm-up dissolved into more laughter, half-hearted stretches, and Mira’s increasingly exasperated yelling.

By the time she managed to corral everyone back into lines, half the group was already sweating, though it was from laughter more than actual effort.

—

When the warm-ups finally gave way to choreography, Mira’s expression sharpened like a blade.

She moved to the center, rolling her shoulders before demonstrating the opening sequence for Golden.

Her steps were crisp and powerful, each motion precise and perfected.

“Like this,” she instructed, voice clipped. “Foot out. Arm up. Hit it with strength, not laziness.”

The boys attempted to copy.

Jinu’s steps were careful, almost too careful, as though afraid of overextending. His movements were clean but lacked the bite of Mira’s.

Abby, of course, nailed every beat with infuriating smoothness, smirking as if born for the spotlight.

Romance stumbled slightly on the turn, cursing under his breath.

Mystery, however, was a different story.

His gaze stayed fixed on the mirrors, but his body moved stiffly, each step a little too heavy.

He looked as though the weight of centuries pressed into his shoulders, dragging his limbs down. Which wasn't exactly wrong.

Zoey tilted her head, curiosity sparking. Then she grinned.

“You’re thinking too much,” she announced suddenly, stepping forward.

Mystery blinked at her through his bangs. “What?”

“You heard me.” Without hesitation, Zoey reached for his hand, tugging him closer into her orbit. “Come on. Dance with me.”

His ears flushed red instantly. “I- what? No. That’s not-”

“Shh.” Zoey pressed a finger to her lips, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just follow me.”

And before he could argue, she spun gracefully, pulling him into her rhythm.

Her laughter bubbled into the air, bright and easy.

Mystery stumbled once, then twice, his movements clumsy and stiff. But Zoey’s energy was infectious, wrapping around him like sunlight piercing through clouds.

“See?” she teased, grinning up at him. “Not so hard when you stop overthinking.”

His lips pressed tighter, but his gaze softened, the faintest twitch of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

For a moment, the noise of the studio dulled.

All he could hear was her laughter. All he could feel was her hand in his, tugging him into motion.

Something stirred in his chest, something he thought he had buried centuries ago.

A warmth, fragile but insistent.

Zoey noticed. Instead of looking away, she leaned in just slightly, her grin softening into something gentler.

—

Not to be outdone, Abby clapped his hands loudly. “Hey! If Mystery gets a partner, so do I!”

Without hesitation, he grabbed Romance’s arm.

Romance arched a brow. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope!” Abby chirped, dragging him into the space. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”

“I can’t dance,” Romance sighed, exasperation etched across his face. For once, his theatrics were being outdone by somebody else.

But there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes, and the faintest smile tugged at his lips as Abby spun him clumsily across the floor.

Their movements were far from perfect.

Abby was too flamboyant, Romance too restrained. But the contrast created a strange magnetism.

Abby twirled dramatically, nearly smacking Romance in the face with his arm, while Romance tried to maintain some semblance of dignity.

“Don’t drop me,” Romance muttered when Abby attempted a dip.

Baby burst into laughter, doubling over. “Oh my god, they look ridiculous!”

Rumi covered her mouth to hide her grin. Even Mira, despite herself, chuckled under her breath.

Romance, though clearly annoyed, looked oddly at ease, softened by Abby’s relentless energy.

For the first time that day, the weight on his shoulders seemed to ease.

Of course, it didn’t stop there.

“Hey! Mira! Join us!” Abby declared suddenly, releasing Romance and darting toward her.

“What? No.” Mira immediately stepped back, eyes narrowing. “I’m the teacher.”

“Not anymore,” Romance chimed in, dashing over. Together, he and Abby each grabbed one of Mira’s arms, tugging her toward the center.

“Miraaa, don’t be boring,” Zoey teased, her voice sing-song.

Before Mira could protest further, Romance surprised everyone by stepping in first.

He caught her free hand gently, his expression unreadable but his gaze steady.

For once, his usual dramatics faded, replaced by something softer.

Mira froze. She wasn’t used to this, the warmth of someone else’s hand, the intensity in his eyes.

Her chest fluttered with a nervous beat she didn’t recognize.

Abby then took over, spinning her around clumsily, laughing bright and loud. “See? You’re having fun already!”

“I am not,” Mira muttered. But her voice lacked bite, and for a fleeting second, she almost believed the opposite.

Between Abby’s grin and Romance’s steady gaze, something cracked in her walls. Just a little. Enough for warmth to seep through.

—

Rumi had been laughing quietly from the sidelines, her eyes sparkling as she watched the chaos unfold.

But her gaze drifted toward Jinu, who lingered awkwardly at the edge of the room.

He wasn’t participating, not really.

Just watching. Watching everyone else laugh, spin, stumble…watching her. His eyes softened with something unreadable.

Rumi crossed the room without hesitation.

“You’re not leaving yet,” she said, her tone light but firm. She reached for his hand. “Come on.”

Jinu hesitated. “Rumi…”

But she tugged him closer, not allowing room for refusal.

The moment their hands touched, the air shifted.

Unlike the playful teasing swirling around the others, this felt different. It felt heavier, deeper, threaded with unspoken history.

They moved slowly at first, Rumi leading with quiet determination, Jinu following carefully.

For the first time in too long, they had this. A moment just for them.

Jinu’s voice dropped low, almost a whisper. “I never thought I’d be here again. With you.”

Rumi glanced up, her smile soft and bittersweet. “Neither did I.”

The silence stretched, heavy with memories and regrets.

Finally, Jinu spoke again. “The guilt still gnaws at me. I don’t think I’ve ever apologized properly. For betraying you. At the idol awards, when everything-”

“Jinu.” Her voice cut gently, firmly. “We don’t need to revisit that again.”

“I do,” he insisted, his eyes burning. “Because every time I see you, I remember the moment I-”

“You also sacrificed yourself for me,” Rumi interrupted, sharper now. Her grip on his hand tightened. “Do you think I’ve forgotten that? The way you gave up your soul to save me?”

He flinched, breath catching.

Her gaze softened, trembling faintly. “And then I thought you were gone forever. Do you know what that felt like? To lose you?”

His throat worked, but no words came.

“But now…” she continued, her voice low. “Now you’re here. Alive, and human. And we’ve never had the chance to talk about it. Not properly.”

The room blurred around them, the laughter of their friends fading into a distant hum.

Jinu exhaled slowly, his lips curving into a faint, almost shy smile. “Then maybe we should stop wasting time.”

Rumi blinked, startled.

Then he smirked, leaning closer. “Besides…you still owe me a dance.”

Her eyes narrowed, though her lips curved. “Do I now?”

“Yes.” His voice dropped, warm and teasing. “And I don’t plan on letting you forget.”

Her laughter bubbled out, soft and genuine. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love it,” he teased back.

—

At the edge of the room, Baby watched everything unfold. His arms crossed, his smirk sharp, every inch of him the picture of amused detachment.

But beneath it, something twisted.

It crept into his chest, gnawing quietly.

He didn’t recognize it at first. A hollowness, a sting he had never allowed himself to feel.

Centuries of cruelty and survival had left little room for this.

But watching the others laugh, stumble, connect in ways deeper than friendship…

Something ached inside him.

He didn’t like this feeling. He didn’t understand it.

He only knew it made him feel apart. Like everyone else had been let in on a joke he wasn’t invited to.

So he did what he always did with feelings like this.

He buried them away, and focused on the joy that lit up this room.

Baby smirked wider, forcing brightness into his tone as he clapped his hands loudly.

“Alright, alright, enough with the rom-com energy! Are we actually dancing, or is this just a group date?”

Laughter erupted instantly, tension shattered. The moment passed.

But the feeling didn’t.

It lingered, buried deep in Baby’s chest, waiting.

Notes:

as you can see, ships will be playing a much bigger part in this sequel, which I am quite excited about.

Im really bad at writing romance, so please stay with me for this 😭🙏

hope you enjoyed :)

Chapter 4: Echoes of Tranquility

Summary:

Mira get’s woken up by Abby. Mira talks with Romance. Mystery isn’t doing so great.

The night was quiet, or it should have been.

The penthouse loomed high above the city, its tall windows stretching from floor to ceiling, swallowing the skyline whole.

Neon signs flickered in the distance, glowing like constellations scattered across the black canvas of night.

Cars moved like fireflies far below, their hums and horns muted by height.

Inside, everything seemed calm. The soft ticking of the living room clock. The occasional whoosh of air from the vents. Nothing more.

Mira lay sprawled across her bed, her pink hair fanned messily against the pillow.

She had been caught in that strange liminal space between sleep and wakefulness, where thoughts blur into dreams, and dreams bleed into fragments of memory.

Her breathing had evened, her body heavy, moments away from sleep, when the noise started.

At first, it was faint. A dull thump against the wall. Then another. Then another.

Her brows furrowed. She turned onto her side, frowning into the shadows.

“What the hell…” she murmured with a groggy voice.

The sound didn’t stop. It escalated.

The rustle of sheets, a sudden crash, like furniture scraping against the floor. The rhythm was frantic, unsteady, desperate.

Her eyes snapped open.

It was coming from the room next to hers. Abby’s room.

Mira groaned, dragging a hand down her face.

For a fleeting second, she considered ignoring it.

Whatever drama he was creating at two in the morning could stay in his room.

He’d probably dreamt up some ridiculous performance and was rehearsing it in his sleep.

But then the sound cut sharper. A gasp. Not theatrical, not dramatic. Raw. Panicked.

Mira sat upright instantly, her pulse kicking.

“Of course,” she muttered, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “If he’s wrestling a ghost in there, I swear-”

The floor was cool beneath her bare feet as she padded into the hallway.

Every step she took peeled away another layer of irritation, replaced with unease.

By the time she reached Abby’s door, her chest had tightened.

She didn’t bother knocking, and just pushed it open.

The sight froze her.

Abby was thrashing violently on the bed.

His limbs tangled in sheets that bound him more than they covered him, his body arching like he was trying to claw his way out of some invisible trap.

Sweat clung to his skin, damp strands of pink hair plastered to his forehead. His lips moved restlessly, broken whispers scraping out.

“No-…please. I didn’t mean to. I promise…this wasn’t supposed to hap-”

Mira’s stomach twisted. Her instincts overrode thought. She rushed forward, gripping his shoulders hard.

“Abby! Hey- wake up. Wake up!”

He jerked violently beneath her touch, eyes snapping open wide, pupils blown.

For a second, he didn’t see her. His gaze darted around the room, wild, as if he’d been dropped into unfamiliar territory.

His chest heaved, his breaths sharp and ragged, dragging through his throat like he’d been running for hours.

“Abby,” Mira said again, forcing her voice steady. Low. Firm. “It’s me. You’re fine. You’re safe.”

At last, his gaze landed on her. Recognition flickered, shaky but there.

His tense body slumped against the headboard, his chest still rising and falling too fast.

“I- sorry,” he muttered hoarsely, running a trembling hand through his sweat-soaked hair. “It’s just…a nightmare.”

Mira frowned, arms folding instinctively. “Nightmare? You looked like you were being strangled alive.”

He let out a broken laugh, humorless. “Feels like it sometimes.”

The words fell heavy in the room. H

He hadn't meant to reveal them, but there they were, truth bleeding through cracks he usually kept sealed.

Mira didn’t answer. She didn’t demand details. She simply stayed there. Perched on the edge of the bed, silent, steady, a grounding presence.

Slowly, painfully, his breathing evened out. His trembling lessened.

The frantic wildness in his gaze dimmed back into something tired, human.

Eventually, Abby leaned back against the headboard, his eyes half-lidded.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“Don’t mention it,” Mira said softly.

But when she finally left, retreating to her own room, sleep didn’t come.

She lay flat on her back, staring at the ceiling, her blanket a twisted mess at her waist.

The penthouse hummed quietly, but her mind was anything but still.

The image of Abby’s face — sweat-drenched, eyes wide with terror — replayed over and over.

She clenched her fists against the sheets, frustration crawling under her skin.

“Why is he still in my head…” she muttered into the darkness.

But she knew why. She didn’t need to say it out loud.

Because she cared.

That fact irritated her more than the lack of sleep. She wasn’t supposed to.

Caring made her vulnerable, made her weak. Or at least, that’s what her family had always said.

She had been labeled the “problem child” for pushing against rules, for refusing to bend into a neat, controlled mold. And caring felt like another liability.

Her thoughts drifted traitorously back to the day before.

The dance.

Abby’s grin as he tugged her forward along with his laughter, the way Romance’s eyes had softened when he caught her hand.

She remembered the warmth that had spread in her chest, unwelcome and foreign.

She sat up abruptly, heat rising to her cheeks. “Nope. Not thinking about that.”

She needed a distraction. Something mundane.

Her stomach growled softly. A snack. Perfect excuse.

—

The kitchen was dim, only the faint blue light of the fridge cutting through shadows when she opened it.

Cool air spilled out, brushing her face.

She grabbed a bottle of water and a leftover rice ball, closing the door as quietly as she could.

But when she turned, she froze.

Movement by the window.

Romance stood there, framed by the sprawling glow of the city.

His posture was immaculate, with his back straight and shoulders squared, but his expression carried weight.

The moonlight painted his light pink hair silver, his eyes distant as he gazed at the skyline.

Mira hesitated, chewing her lip, then walked closer.

“You’re up late,” she said casually, leaning against the counter.

He didn’t look at her right away. “Couldn’t sleep.”

She studied him, narrowing her eyes.

His jaw was clenched, the usual charm absent from his features.

Tension coiled in his frame, visible even in the stillness.

“What’s wrong?” she asked bluntly.

Romance chuckled softly, though it was thin and brittle. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Liar,” Mira said flatly.

That got his attention.

His eyes flicked toward her, startled. But then again, he should have known better.

Mira didn’t let things slide. She won’t let them bury away their emotions any longer.

That was a sentiment all three of the girls shared.

“It’s about your voice, isn’t it?” she pressed.

Silence.

Romance’s lips parted, but no words came. His gaze sank to the floor, his shoulders sinking with it.

“…yeah,” he admitted finally. His voice was quiet, almost fragile. “This is gonna sound stupid and egotistical…”

Mira scoffed, a fond smile growing on her lips. “You are stupid and egotistical already. Just come out with it.”

He sighed. “It’s just…my voice used to be…beautiful. People said it could make you fall in love. Every note sounded effortless. Like it wasn’t mine, like it belonged to something higher. I took…pride in it.”

He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing.

“But I destroyed it. All those years screaming into nothing. Drowning in grief, anger, loss. I tore it apart myself,” He let out a bitter laugh, rough at the
edges. “Now it’s nothing but a croak. A mockery.”

Mira stayed silent, listening. Her arms loosened, tension ebbing as his words cut into her.

“I blame myself,” he went on, his tone sharpening with self-loathing. “If I hadn’t wallowed, if I hadn’t screamed like some pathetic child, maybe I’d still have it. Maybe I’d still sound like I used to. Even now, I can’t help but pity myself, even if it’s my own fault things turned out this way.”

His voice cracked faintly, and the sound itself felt like proof of his guilt.

Mira stepped closer. Her expression softened against her will. “Romance.”

He looked up at her, eyes glimmering.

“It’s okay,” she said firmly. “You didn’t know how else to let your pain out. Screaming was all you had. You didn’t have anybody to talk to, anybody to lean on. Don’t punish yourself for surviving.”

“That’s the thing, Mira. I didn’t have anybody to help me, but neither did the others. Yet they…they continued on. Jinu is so determined, Mystery never complains, meanwhile Abby and Baby carry it so well. And I…”

“You’re sensitive, emotional, and way too dramatic,” Mira finished for him.

His breath caught.

But she continued, voice softer. “But that’s not a bad thing. Sensitivity is never a bad thing. You handle things differently, that’s fine. It doesn’t mean you suffered any less, and it doesn’t make how you dealt with it any less justified.”

Romance didn’t respond. He clearly didn’t believe her, not now, but at least he got the message.

“Anyways, about your voice, you don’t need to force train it right now,” Mira added, gentler. “You’ll only tear it further. I suggest you drink lots of water and rest. We’ll look for tonics, remedies, whatever works. We’ll figure it out together. I feel like I keep saying this, but you’re not alone anymore, okay?”

Romance’s chest tightened. Gratitude, sharp and unfamiliar, rose like a tide.

He swallowed it down, not trusting himself to speak too quickly.

“Okay,” he whispered, a tiny smile tugging on his lips. “I’ll try what you said.”

Mira gave a small nod. “That’s all I’m asking.”

For a long while, neither of them moved.

They stood by the window, the city lights stretching endlessly, two shadows tethered together in silence.

—

Morning broke quietly over the penthouse.

The city was already alive, honking cars and chatter floating faintly through the glass windows. Inside, however, tension stirred.

Bobby had called everyone into the living room.

His usually cheerful face looked unusually serious as he shuffled through papers, his black hair sticking up slightly, like he hadn’t slept much either.

The Saja Boys gathered sluggishly, still groggy. The girls were nowhere to be seen.

“They’ve gone to prepare for their next concert,” Bobby explained, pushing up the sleeves of his sweater. “Busy schedule. But I need to talk to you boys.”

That got their attention. Jinu straightened slightly, eyes narrowing with quiet curiosity.

“It’s about your comeback,” Bobby said, his tone decisive.

Abby raised a brow, pink hair falling into his face. “Our what now?”

“Your return as idols,” Bobby clarified. “We need to clear up the controversies between you and Huntrix. And the best way to do that will be during Huntrix’s next concert. But-”

He paused dramatically, holding up a finger. “You should announce your return before that.”

The room erupted in noise.

“Wait, what?” Baby blurted, his voice shooting up. “Shouldn’t we wait until after everything is cleared? That way the fans aren’t sharpening their pitchforks yet?”

“Exactly,” Romance muttered, folding his arms as he leaned back on the couch.

Bobby shook his head firmly. “If you announce it after, it’ll look staged. Fans will think Huntrix was pressured into saying it solely in preparation for the Saja boys comeback.”

The boys went quiet.

Bobby continued, leaning forward, “However, if you return before that, fans will be convinced that Huntrix did it on their own accord and was willing to help instead. Then, when a joint concert happens, fans see the unity firsthand.”

“Ah,” Jinu murmured, nodding slowly. “I see your point.”

“I don’t,” Baby said bluntly, “but okay.”

“That’s why I’m suggesting a livestream. Soon. All five of you together,” he paused. “Preferably today, or in the next couple days.”

The words dropped like a stone.

Mystery’s hand twitched at his side.

His expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his movement.

Livestream.

The word echoed in his head like a curse.

Faces staring. Eyes watching, focusing on him.

Memories of the fans — breaking into the private spaces, surrounding him, grabbing him — overtook him.

Older memories still: ropes, fire, laughter in the dark as his screams were entertainment.

His throat tightened. His palms dampened.

He said nothing. His face remained calm, unreadable. But inside, he was trembling.

Only Jinu noticed. His gaze lingered on the other’s stillness, worry gnawing quietly at his chest. But he didn’t speak.

The meeting moved on, but the silence in Mystery’s chest remained like stone.

Notes:

This chapter was kinda written at the same time as the previous chapter. I was planning on leaving this one for later in the week, but I got excited lol

I’m not busy on weekends so I’m trying to get as much content out there as possible before a busy week starts again tomorrow ☹️

Hope you enjoyed :D

Chapter 5: Masks and Mirrors

Summary:

Saja Boys discuss the livestream. Problems occur in the dance studio again.

It was late afternoon, two days before the livestream Bobby had been buzzing about for the past several days, and the Saja Boys had gathered in a loose circle on the polished wood floor of the practice room.

Their backs pressed against the mirrored wall, the faint hum of the air conditioner mingling with the muffled thump of bass beats bleeding through from Huntrix’s studio down the hall.

Neon lights flickered above them, strips of white and pale blue catching on the glossy floor and the glass reflection, painting their tired faces with faint halos of glow.

For once, the room wasn’t echoing with pounding choreography or hoarse voices straining against endless vocal runs.

Instead, their exhaustion was tempered by a different kind of challenge.

The livestream.

In the old world, when they were demons, they had faced blades, fire, the cruelty of Gwi-Ma’s punishments.

Now, in the twenty-first century, livestreams were their battlefield.

Jinu sat at the head of the circle, posture tall even in weariness.

His black hair fell across his forehead in loose strands, partially shadowing the sharp gleam of his eyes.

Since becoming human, there had been a shift in him, though it was.

The confident spark he had always carried had dimmed, replaced with a quieter, more contemplative flame.

Freedom had cost him certainty, and sometimes he felt the weight of that far more than chains.

Abby stretched his long legs out with lazy exaggeration, leaning back on his elbows until his head nearly touched the mirror behind him.

He tilted his chin toward Jinu with a crooked grin.“So, what’s the big deal? We just…sit in front of a camera and talk, right? How hard can that possibly be?”

The lighthearted tone didn’t mask the expectation in his gaze. Even now, after hundreds years of knowing each other, Abby still looked toward Jinu for direction, though he would never admit it out loud.

“Not quite,” Jinu replied, voice calm but edged with authority. Even when he doubted himself, his voice left little room for questioning.

He leaned forward slightly, hands clasped loosely. “This isn’t just talking, it’s performance. Everything we do on that livestream will be replayed, clipped, posted online within seconds. If we even breathe wrong, someone will notice.”

Romance let out a theatrical sigh, tossing his pale-pink hair back. “We weren’t this prepared back when we were demons.”

“That’s because if we made one wrong move back then, we could alter the minds of those who saw us,” Jinu explained, tone patient. “And if things went terribly wrong, we could vanish. Change our appearances. Rewrite the story. But now we’re human, and humans are flawed. Everything we do lingers.”

Baby groaned and flopped dramatically onto the floor.

He stared at the ceiling, expression caught between irritation and boredom. “You’re making it sound like we’re preparing for war.”

“In a way, we are,” Jinu said dryly, mouth tugging into a humorless half-smile. “A war of perception. And idols live or die by their image.”

Romance grinned, spreading his arms wide as though basking in phantom applause. “Which is why my image will be unforgettable. Women everywhere swoon, men envy me…or swoon too. I don’t discriminate.”

Even without Mira in the room, they could all hear her sarcastic voice in their heads: ‘you’re insufferable’.

“Yeah, because that’s so different from your real personality,” Abby teased. “You don’t even have to act.”

Romance clutched his chest dramatically. “Excuse me, there’s an art to it. Charm is a refined skill.”

“Exactly.” Jinu pushed the banter aside, gaze steady. “Persona doesn’t need to be invented. It just needs to be sharpened. Like Abby — you’re already cocky, confident.”

Abby smirked. “Not sure if cocky’s a compliment or an insult. But confidence is basically my middle name.”

“And Mystery, the reserved one.”

“Mysterious,” Abby chimed in. “Who would’ve guessed?”

Jinu nods. “Yes. Mysterious. Reserved, mature. Speak only when necessary. It draws people in.”

Romance tilted his head, his smile thoughtful for once. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? That’s just how he is. That’s how all of us are. None of this feels like acting. Which makes this meeting a little pointless. It’s just us being us.”

“Not for everyone.” Jinu’s eyes slid toward Baby.

The youngest blinked, sat up, then looked around the room before pointing at himself. “Me?”

“You.” Jinu deadpanned. “You can’t be yourself.”

Baby’s expression twisted into mock offense. “Isn’t being human all about being yourself? I’ve seen, like, hundreds of videos on Rumi’s phone about that.”

Abby barked a laugh. “Of course Rumi would have that kind of stuff saved.”

Jinu’s glare snapped to him, sharp and almost protective, before turning back to Baby. “Why do you even have her phone?”

“Cause I act like a child and give Huntrix puppy eyes until they give me whatever I want,” Baby replied smugly. Then, with exaggerated innocence, he blinked wide eyes. “See? I can play the role just fine being myself.”

Jinu’s expression flattened. “You have the deepest voice of us all. You’re too sarcastic, obnoxiously loud, and you have way too much pride. Fans expect the youngest to be soft. Cute. Respectful. You have to act innocent and bubbly. Like you adore them.”

“Like Zoey,” Romance added, picturing Huntrix’s rapper bouncing across a stage, all smiles and sunshine.

Baby recoiled in horror. “Like Zoey? Absolutely not. Do I look like someone who can squeak about love while batting my lashes!?”

Laughter exploded across the room.

“Actually-” Abby wheezed, clutching his stomach. “That would be comedy gold. Imagine Baby growling, ’I love you so much’ in that voice.”

“I’d unsubscribe immediately,” Romance teased.

“I’m not doing it,” Baby snapped, crossing his arms like a sulking teenager. “If you want a ‘cute’ and ‘innocent’ maknae, they picked the wrong person. I’m here for the spotlight, not to be a plush toy.”

“Oh, come on,” Jinu tried, though his patience was thinning. “You were fine with it as a demon.”

“Yeah, because you promised to give us our souls back. Different situation. More motivation,” Baby rolled his eyes. “You know what, here’s an idea. I’ll just stay quiet, like I did before. And do those heart faces and winks or whatever. But in no circumstance am I saying ‘I love you so much’ out loud.”

Jinu sighed. “Fine. Then stay quiet. Just don’t ruin it like you did on that game show with your ‘goo goo ga ga.’”

Baby groaned again at the reminder, collapsing backwards. Abby’s laughter filled the room once more, echoing off mirrors and wood.

The rhythm of teasing and banter felt familiar, grounding them in their strange new life. But as the noise faded, Jinu noticed a shift in the air.

Mystery was silent. Too silent.

He was always silent, but it was different. The kind of difference that always told them something was wrong.

His shoulders were stiff, his gaze distant, as if tethered to a memory too heavy to escape. The shadows behind his bangs seemed darker, swallowing him whole.

They didn’t call him out. None of them dared.

Instead, within the span of the next few mintues, Romance’s hand brushed against Mystery’s shoulder, a fleeting touch, grounding but unobtrusive. Abby leaned casually against him, arm draped loosely as if it was just another joke. Jinu gave a rare, quiet smile, one that carried reassurance without words. Baby, for once, didn’t tease, but flashed him a bright and genuine grin.

It was enough.

Slowly, Mystery blinked, breath shallow, and the room came back into focus. His lips twitched.

The moment passed, unspoken, and the planning resumed.

But beneath it all, Mystery’s chest tightened.

He wasn’t sure he could handle the storm of fans waiting on the other side of the livestream.

Not after last time.

—

Only a few hours later, the Saja Boys returned to the practice room, only to find Mira already waiting.

Her pink hair was tied back into a messy ponytail, strands falling loose around her sharp features.

Arms crossed, she leaned against the mirrored wall like a sentinel, her brown eyes narrowing as the boys filed in, one by one.

“Good,” she said curtly. “You’re late.”

Abby smirked instantly, unable to resist. “Missed us that much, huh?”

“Not in the slightest.” Mira’s voice cut like a blade. “Line up. You’re re-learning Soda Pop.”

Collective groans echoed.

“That’s so six-months ago,” Romance complained, dragging his feet. “Jinu tortured us with that for three straight weeks, each day, for twenty four hours.”

Rumi raised a brow from where she sat cross-legged on the floor, Zoey bouncing behind her.

The fellow leader’s lips twitched in half amusement, half disbelief, while Jinu chuckled sheepishly.

“Exactly,” Mira shot back. “If you could nail this then, you can nail this again. Counts, energy, formations. No excuses. Now, starting positions! Let’s see what you still remember.”

Music filled the room, sharp beats reverberating through the floor, and to everyone’s surprise, it was Mystery who stepped forward, taking control.

His movements were heavily flawed — a stumble here, a shaky gesture there — but his timing was razor-sharp, his corrections precise.

He gestured Abby into position, showing him the sharper angle of a step.

His voice was steady, instructive, carrying quiet authority that made the others instinctively listen.

He was never a great dancer, but planning choreography was as easy as two plus one.

Meanwhile, Zoey’s heart hammered as she watched him.

Her gaze lingered on the way his hair fell into his face, the strength in his frame despite his restraint, the depth in his voice that carried something more than just instruction. Something unspoken.

Zoey’s chest tightens, warmth blooms under her skin, her pulse racing as she realizes it isn’t just admiration.

She tries to tear her gaze away, but every time his lips part to speak, every time his hands gesture, she’s drawn back in, like he’s a quiet gravity pulling her closer.

She wonders if he feels it too, the invisible thread between them, or if it’s all in her head.

The not-knowing terrifies her more than anything.

“Step sharper, Abby,” Mystery corrected, his hand grazing Abby’s shoulder as he repositioned him.

To her shock, Abby actually listened. His next movement was cleaner, sharper, executed with near-perfect control.

Mira blinked, startled.

She had always seen Abby as a nuisance: loud, flirtatious, all grins and bravado.

That irritation had softened when she learned his tragic past, but attraction had never crossed her mind.

Yet watching him now, body moving with raw strength and grace, his charm focused into discipline rather than teasing…something stirred.

Her own pulse tripped, her throat tightening as her gaze lingered longer than it should have.

Admiration, yes, but beneath it was something she didn’t want to name.

Something dangerous, because the moment she admitted it, it would shift everything between them.

She told herself it was only respect, only recognition. But the warmth pooling in her chest betrayed her.

Nobody noticed the slight flush of her cheeks, but Romance did.

His chest clenched, a subtle pain threading through his ribcage.

He forced a smile, but it faltered, cracks through his practiced charm.

He wanted her gaze, he longed for it.

But what did he have left to show her? What did he have left to show anybody?

His voice was broken. His gifts diminished.

Jinu had leadership, Abby had dance, Baby had rap, and Mystery’s voice was smooth as silk.

You could argue that Romance had the looks, and he was indeed pretty, but it didn’t stand out.

Jinu had his perfect idol face, Abby had his abs, Baby had his round eyes, and Mystery had his perfect soft lips.

Then, you could argue, Romance had the personality.

But compared to Jinu’s charisma, Abby’s confidence, Mystery’s artistry, Baby’s chaos — Romance felt hollow.

The thought burned.

Only when Baby stumbled, did he regain focus.

The younger’s foot slipped, his body buckled, and he crumpled onto the floor.

“Baby!” Jinu’s voice rang sharp, but Abby reached him first, crouching low. His usual teasing grin vanished as his eyes scanned Baby’s pale face.

“I’m fine,” Baby muttered, forcing a lopsided grin. But his voice wavered, his gold eyes dark with exhaustion.

“No, you’re not,” Rumi said firmly, standing now, her voice sharp with authority.

“I said I’m fine.” Baby tried to push himself up, chest puffing in a performance of strength.

But his arms trembled. His lips were too pale. His body looked too light, too fragile.

Romance brushed his hair from his face. Abby hovered close. Zoey bit her lip, heart twisting. Jinu’s jaw tightened.

And Mira noticed what the others didn’t.

The tremor in his fingers, the sluggishness in his movements, the way his breaths came shallow and uneven.

His frame seemed thinner, even more than before, his balance more fragile, his energy leaking away in every movement.

A faint sheen of sweat clung to his forehead despite only practicing for a few minutes.

His shoulders sloped as though carrying an invisible weight.

When his knees buckled again, she realized it wasn’t clumsiness, but rather it was depletion, like a candle burning down to its final inch of wick.

Her chest tightened with the realization.

“Alright,” she said, voice firm, standing tall to take control. “Maybe we should stop here.”

The boys exchanged anxious looks but obeyed, filing out in a quiet hurry.

When the door closed, Mira turned sharply to Rumi and Zoey. “Come here.”

Both girls approached, worry etched in their expressions. Mira lowered her voice, her tone carrying a rare weight.

“I think I know why he keeps collapsing.”

Notes:

as a writer, I feel like the more you write something, the more you like it (is it just me?)

For example, the Saja boys used to be goofy demons with background-character personalities when I began reading other fanfiction, but now that I’ve ‘created’ them myself, they’ve become fully fleshed out characters

Forgive me for disliking Abby and Romance at first, but now that I have them properly written out I love them more than anything 😭 (and mystery and baby too obviously)

just my thoughts lol

hope you enjoyed :)

Chapter 6: Behind the Screen

Summary:

Saja boys do their livestream. Not much goes well.

And here it was—the day of the livestream.

The Saja Boys’ official channel had been buzzing for hours, anticipation boiling over long before the broadcast even started.

The loading screen alone was enough to send the fandom into a frenzy, the black rectangle of ‘stream will begin soon’ with a countdown filling the monitor.

The chat raced like a flood bursting through a dam.

Thousands of usernames poured messages in all caps, streams of multicolored hearts, frantic keysmashes, and endless cries of “FINALLY!!”

The air itself seemed to hum with excitement, like the anticipation before a concert when the lights dim but the stage hasn’t yet come alive.

Then, with a click, a shuffle of movement, and a sudden burst of laughter, the camera flickered on.

The image sharpened, revealing all five members squeezed onto a long couch in a studio room that looked both too large for intimacy but too small for their chaotic energy.

Baby was the first to move.

Leaning forward so close that the camera focused almost entirely on his face, he filled the screen with his eyes framed by teal-blue hair that glowed under the bright studio lights.

“Are we live?” he demanded in his low, impossibly deep voice. “Are we really live? Can they see me? Can you guys see me?”

From the side, Jinu gave him a swift kick against the shin.

“You’re not supposed to speak,” he hissed, his tone pitched low enough to not be picked up by the mic.

Baby, unfazed, grinned toothily.

But the chat loved it:

jaxtoy: Your voice is so cool!!!!
number1sparklehater: My ears are being blessed…
rui’s5thhairstrand: I’ve never heard him speak before, am I in heaven??

The scrolling sped up, fans spamming exclamation marks and emojis at the sight of their maknae finally speaking on-stream.

Baby preened, satisfied, while Jinu gave him a glare that silently screamed this-is-not-what-we-discussed.

It wasn’t like Baby cared.

On Baby’s other side, Abby flipped his deep-pink hair over one shoulder with a dramatic toss, strands catching the light like silk.

His eyes sparkled as he leaned toward the camera with an expression that belonged on a magazine cover.

“Hello, my lovelies,” he purred, his tone smooth as honey. “Did you miss us?”

The chat detonated like fireworks.

yuki<3: YESSSS!!
gojosatoruisalive: They are BACKKKK
aratakinumeroittolover: Abby you look SO GOOD

Romance, sprawled comfortably with his legs crossed, smirked lazily.

His light-pink hair shimmered, and his whole body radiated effortless elegance, like someone who was born knowing how to enhance a room.

He raised his hand in a lazy wave, grin curling with mischief.

“You’ve waited long enough,” he drawled, his voice smooth, teasing, dripping charm. “But here we are again. All in, ready to give you everything. Did you miss my face?”

“Stop flirting with pixels, Romance.” Baby shoved a cushion into his stomach, earning himself another swift kick from Jinu.

At this point, Jinu was beginning to resign himself to the maknae’s refusal to stay silent.

“They’re not pixels, dear,” Romance corrected with mock offense, pressing a hand dramatically to his chest. “They’re the heartbeat of this fandom.”

Then he winked at the screen with a flourish.

The chat was feral:

capitanowillbeplayable: ROMANCE STOP YOURE GONNA KILL ME
user46018: 💘💘💘
kim_0923: HE’S SO PERFECT I CAN’T

“See?” Romance smirked smugly. “They understand me.”

On the far end, Mystery sat in quiet contrast.

His silver-purple hair fell over his face, obscuring his eyes from view.

His posture was impeccable — straight-backed, hands folded neatly in his lap, as though he were carved from stillness itself.

He inclined his head in a small, polite nod toward the camera.

Just that subtle gesture alone was enough to ignite chaos in the chat.

howmystarias: MYSTERY I SEE YOU
not_purpl3_guy: so elegant as always

And in the middle, anchoring the group, Jinu leaned back against the couch with one arm stretched across the backrest.

His black hair framed his sharp face, his eyes catching faint glimmers of light. He smiled softly, calmer, more subdued than usual.

Apart from the lively greeting he had given at the very beginning, he remained quiet, almost contemplative.

The fans noticed instantly.

Jinuswardrobe: Jinu looks so soft today??

epicisthebestmusical: Why is he so quiet omg
~mina~: He’s glowing tho 👑

But any comment that dared to mention Huntrix, or ask why the Saja Boys had been living with them, vanished into silence and were promptly ignored.

—

“Uh, can somebody help me with this?” Romance suddenly asked, holding up a soda can like a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

Before anyone else could respond, Baby snatched the can and shook it vigorously, his mischievous grin spreading wide.

“You mean like this?” He cracked it open with a snap.

Foam hissed out violently, spraying in every direction. A mist of fizz landed directly in Abby’s meticulously styled hair.

“YOU LITTLE-!” Abby shrieked, springing to his feet with the fury of someone who had spent an hour on his hair. “Do you have ANY idea how long it took me to style this!?”

The chat was howling:

xddcc: BABY NOOOO 😂😂😂
cainewillabstract: ABBY’S HAIR OMG
capitanowillbeplayable: This is better than Netflix

Romance doubled over, clutching his stomach, his laughter bubbling out uncontrollably. “He actually- pfft- he actually got you!”

Even Mystery’s lips twitched, the barest flicker of a smile breaking through his stoic exterior, though his eyes remained downcast.

“Don’t waste the drinks,” Jinu said with a shake of his head, though a soft chuckle escaped him despite himself.

Internally, he thought, ‘What happened to not talking, Baby?’

“Nah. Romance, come join me. Let’s drown this place in soda!” Baby declared, slurping noisily from his half-empty can while reaching for another.

“Don’t drag Romance into your crimes,” Abby snapped, dabbing at his damp hair with tissues.

“Fine, fine.” Baby tossed him the tissue box like a peace offering.

Romance, ever dramatic, leaned conspiratorially toward the camera, lowering his voice as if sharing a forbidden secret. “If we suddenly disappear again, it’s because Abby murdered Baby off-screen. Send help.”

Fans exploded again:

dottoreinnodkrai: LMFAOOOO
mizuenawedding: this is so chaotic I love it

The studio buzzed with noise, chaos bouncing between them like a game of catch.

And yet, at the center, Jinu stayed quieter than usual, letting the storm whirl around him.

The comments about his silence slipped into his mind like whispers. They weren’t wrong.

He remembered a time when he was louder — arrogant, commanding, a leader who filled the room with his voice.

Now, though, he found solace in listening. Watching.

It’s been a while since he could just watch and relax.

His gaze moved across the couch.

Abby’s bright grin, so big and so reckless, barely hiding guilt that gnawed at him in the dark.

Romance’s theatrical charm wrapped like silk around the grief he never recovered from.

Baby’s loud, chaotic mask protecting a heart heavy with self-loathing.

Mystery’s stillness, carved around trauma like armor.

And they were still here. Together. Broken pieces, yes, but still pieces that fit.

Jinu felt pride swell in his chest, bittersweet and quiet.

—

“Let’s play a game!” Abby’s voice cut through his thoughts, loud and confident. “Truth or dare, livestream edition!”

“Absolutely not,” Baby deadpanned immediately.

“Seconded,” Mystery murmured, so soft it almost didn’t catch the mic.

“Thirded,” Jinu added, though amusement tugged faintly at his lips.

“That means I win,” Abby announced triumphantly, ignoring them all. His grin turned wicked as he turned to Romance. “Truth or dare?”

Romance stretched like a cat, unbothered. “Dare, of course. I never shy away from a challenge.”

Abby’s eyes glinted. “I dare you to do aegyo for the fans.”

Romance froze, betrayal etched across his face. “You… monster.”

The chat combusted:

yuki<3: DO IT DO IT DO ITTT
valentine_: romance aegyo pls i’ll sell my soul
#1obanaixmitsurishipper: Abby ily for this

With a sigh so dramatic it could have won an award, Romance widened his eyes, puffed his cheek, and pressed half a heart to his face, sticking his tongue out in Baby’s signature pose.

The room collapsed in laughter.

Abby fell sideways, wheezing while clutching his stomach.

Baby rolled onto the floor, kicking his legs like a child.

Jinu pinched the bridge of his nose, shoulders shaking silently.

“Delete this footage immediately,” Romance demanded, his ears betraying him with a bright flush.

“Never,” Baby wheezed. “The world needed this.”

Abby leaned forward, still chuckling, and glanced at the chat. His eyes scanned the endless flood of words for only a brief moment, but it was enough that his laughter thinned.

Line after line praised Romance’s ridiculous charm, Baby’s antics, Jinu’s quiet presence, Mystery’s elegance.

And for him?

Just a handful of shallow remarks about his looks.
nerfcypher: Abby looks hot today ngl

kur000mi: His body tho 👀

That was all.

He faltered, slipping into silence.

His arms crossed defensively, eyes glazing over as if fixed on nothing, though a smile stubbornly remained plastered on his face.

The noise around him swallowed his pause, his quietness vanishing under everyone else’s chaos.

‘Am I really just that? A body? A face?’ he thought bitterly. ‘Am I invisible when I’m not putting on a show?’

The hollow ache stirred old wounds, the kind that used to claw at him when the world fades to black.

Except this time, it was for such trivial matters.

He’s literally been through hell and back, yet, here he was, contemplating the comment of a mortal.

It is stupidly unbelievable. It is pathetic. It is cowardly.

And only when his thoughts trained back to cowardice, did he begin to shrink into himself.

—

This peace was sure not to last, as in the matter of a few minutes, the chat was filled with questions.

Questions, more specifically, about Huntrix and how Saja Boys were found living with them.

Jinu knew the questions were inevitable. He only saw a few to start with, but everyone was probably just shocked to see that the Saja boys were back.

And now, that tide has washed over. Now, the interrogation begins.

Everyone tries to ignore it, but it is difficult ignoring the people fueling the livestream to begin with.

Abby gave Jinu a horrendous dare, Baby spilled yet another can of soda all over the floor, meanwhile Romance began shooting out flirtatious lines like a machine gun.

Nothing worked. The questions just kept coming.

Soon, a comment scrolled by.

dottoreinnodkrai: Why is Mystery so stiff today? He looks uncomfortable.

The atmosphere shifted. The four boys exchanged brief glances. None of them addressed it, and continued the show like they never read it.

Another line appeared mere minutes later:

Jinuswardrobe: Wait, is Mystery breathing weirdly? Is he okay?

Jinu’s eyes flicked sideways.

Mystery’s shoulders trembled faintly, his chest rising and falling too quickly. His breaths were shallow, uneven, ragged.

Tension rippled like static.

“Mystery-” Romance whispered, alarm creeping into his voice.

Jinu’s leader instincts roared to the surface.

His heart pounded, but his face stayed calm. He forced his tone steady, masking the urgency beneath.

“Alright then, thank you for joining us today,” he said smoothly, though the strain showed in his eyes. “We’ll see you all very soon. Stay safe and stay healthy.”

The chat erupted with confusion, questions, and pleas for them not to end it yet. Jinu dragged it out a little longer, trying not to spook the fans with suddenness.

“Really, thank you for waiting so long for us. Your support means everything.” He smiled gently, even as his gaze darted again to Mystery’s shaking form “Please rest well. We’ll bring you more soon. Saja boys, love you!”

He pulled heart fingers, while Abby, Baby and Romance soon followed suit while moving to cover Mystery from the view of the camera.

And with that, Jinu ended the stream.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Without the distraction of the chat, Mystery’s gasps filled the room.

His body shook violently, hair falling forward, chest heaving in short, desperate bursts.

“Mystery- hey, breathe-” Romance scrambled closer, brushing Mystery’s thick bangs aside. He gasped slightly with alarm.

Mystery’s pupils were blown wide, darting wildly, unfocused.

“Shit,” Abby muttered, springing to his feet. “This is bad.”

“Guys, stay away, don’t crowd him,” Jinu demanded.

Any sign of mischief left in Baby vanished, replaced by raw panic. “I’ll get help!”

He bolted for the door, Abby right on his heels.

“Mystery, listen to me,” Romance urged. “You’re safe. You’re with us. Just breathe, okay? In…out…”

But Mystery wasn’t hearing him.

His breaths came in ragged, stuttering gasps. His hands clawed at his own chest, as though fighting invisible ropes. His muscles locked, his body curling inward, trembling like he might shatter apart.

“Look at me,” Jinu ordered firmly, kneeling close but not too close next to him. “It’s me. It’s Jinu. You’re not there anymore, okay? You’re here. In the studio. With us. Safe.”

He repeated the grounding words like a mantra, anchoring them into the storm.

But Mystery’s panic only swelled.

The room filled with the sound of his choking breaths, sharp and desperate.

His fingers dug harshly into his shirt, nails scratching skin. His whole body seemed to collapse inward, pale and clammy.

The door suddenly burst open. Bobby stumbled inside, nearly tripping in his rush. “What’s happening!?”

“It’s Mystery, he’s having a panic attack. A bad one,” Romance explained quickly.

Huntrix wasn’t there — they were out recording a song, leaving only Bobby to help.

Without hesitation, Bobby crouched down, keeping the same distance Jinu had from Mystery. His usual goofy cheer vanished, replaced with calm steadiness.

“Hey. Hey, Mystery. You’re okay. You’re safe here, alright? I’ve got you.”

He gently took Mystery’s hands, grounding them away from clawing his chest, holding them firmly but gently. His voice softened further. “Breathe with me. In… out…nice and slow. Don’t fight it. Just follow me.”

Jinu and Romance exchanged a glance, relief flickering faintly. Bobby’s gentleness was cutting through where their panic had failed.

It took three minutes — agonizingly slow minutes — for Mystery’s breathing to begin lengthening.

His trembling eased by fractions, his wild eyes beginning to focus again.

“There you go,” Bobby murmured like a steady anchor. “That’s it. You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you here.”

Finally, Mystery sagged back against the couch, utterly drained. His whisper was hoarse. “Sorry…”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Baby snapped softly, squeezing his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Jinu added, voice firm. “We’re here.”

Silence settled, heavy but tender. Mystery leaned back, chest rising in calmer rhythm, eyes shut.

The others hovered protectively, their chaotic energy dimmed into quiet concern.

Bobby looked at them. Really looked. And for the first time, he saw past the flashy colors and jokes.

He thought back to what Huntrix had told him — that excuse about abusive managers and fathers.

He’d wanted to believe it. But looking at them now, he knew it was a lie. Or at least, only a fraction of the truth.

Whatever haunted these boys was darker, deeper.

Bobby saw the exhaustion etched deep in their expressions, the kind that no idol schedule alone could carve.

The weight they carried was like it was thousands of years heavier.

He hesitated, then spoke softly.

“I’ll…I’ll be honest. I didn’t like you guys at first. You came across cocky, arrogant. Too much.” His voice wavered, but he continued. “But ever since you moved in with us at the tower…I can tell something’s wrong. Something’s different. You’re carrying something heavy, and I don’t know what it is. But I can see it’s crushing you.”

All eyes turned to him.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Bobby said quickly. “Just…know you’re safe here. With me. With the girls. You’re not alone. I used to dislike you, but I don’t anymore. Not at all. You’ve become family, and I hope you see me that way too. Not just as Huntrix’s manager, but as yours. As someone who’s here for you.”

His words trembled with sincerity, stripped of the lively cheer he usually wore.

Abby glanced at Jinu, who gave the faintest nod. None of them spoke, but gratitude shone in their eyes like a quiet glow.

Bobby smiled gently, patting Mystery’s knee before rising. “Rest, boys. Healing isn’t easy. But I believe in you.”

When he left, the room stayed silent.

Each of them sank into thought, shadows heavy but softened by the unspoken promise that none of them would face their demons alone.

Notes:

I apologise, I have no idea how K-pop idols manage their livestreams so this is most likely very inaccurate 😭

I apologise for the long wait between chapters. Unfortunately, summer is over and free time is scarce, therefore it maybe slower.

As for my other fanfic i am working on, that might be even slower since people seem to enjoy this one more therefore this one is my main priority.

Anyways, hope you all enjoyed reading :)

(p.s. did anybody catch the interesting usernames? 👀)

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of How To Be Human