Chapter Text
I can make you better.
In one way or another, that was what they all heard: a promise of better music, better fans, a better life. It was supposed to be simple: break your contract, train with G, and skyrocket to stardom. A, B, C. But now, as the boys stare at their clawed purple hands, patterns like lightning just below the skin, nothing seems quite so easy anymore.
The guilt eats away at Jinu sometimes. If he were still human, he’d probably lay awake thinking about it, but he lost that privilege a long time ago. Now he stares at the boys, so young, so full of potential. He sees himself in them. Is that a blessing or a curse?
By the time he gets an audience with Gwima, the boys have already been convinced to join him. They may not remember why or how–even who they were before the sharp teeth and amber irises–but their obedient, zombified movements tell him they’ll be easy to use.
As the group of five prepares to begin their earthly debut, Jinu can’t help but stare at his own face: the pink color returned to his cheeks, his dark eyes so different from what he has grown accustomed to. Even the boys look somehow both hauntingly familiar and altogether different, mere shadows of their former selves now molded in his carefully designed image. It was so easy to pretend to be their manager, to pick away at their insecurities one by one until they were practically begging for him to fix them. Still, even as demons, they don’t leave each other’s side. He envies their connection, desperate both to feel the same thing again but, paradoxically, also to have his memories erased. Truth be told, he doesn’t want to forget, but it would be easier than remembering his family’s heartbroken faces.
Jinu takes a moment to prepare himself to meet humans again, to walk among them, to be seen by them. How many hundreds of years has it been since he’s felt the sun on his face? Those short outings to meet the rest of the boys only made him crave more of the world above.
With a snap of his fingers, the group finds themselves rounding the corner into the alleyway where Han Clinic still stands. He lets the group go ahead of him, watching their movements to catch any hint of recognition. When they walk past the shop (and those damn demon hunters) without pause, he knows they’re ready.
It’s time to make good on your promise, he thinks to himself. It’s time to make them better.