Chapter Text
Jinu has many regrets. Shielding Rumi and giving her his soul isn’t one of them, though. That is probably one of the best things he has ever done, up there with becoming an idol. It was only a short time, practically a blink of an eye in his 400 years of life, but at least it ended on a high note.
“Or not,” Jinu, alive, says. He rises from a single bed, swaying like the living dead he is, frantically searching for a mirror in the plain apartment. There’s barely any furniture, cardboard boxes labeled with his handwriting lying haphazardly in every room. He stumbles into one in front of the bathroom door, whatever's left of his reflexes catching the sink before he can crack his head open and forfeit this bizarre… second chance before it even starts.
On the reflection, he sees his face. He has his idol hair, dark strands soft and silky as he cards his fingers through them, combing out the mild bedhead. In the silence, he–
“Wait.” Silence. There’s no voices in his head, no distorted whispers of shame and misery, no Gwi-ma in his ear. Everything is so clear that he can actually listen to his own thoughts, for once.
Jinu wipes tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. Hands—his patterns are gone too. He can’t feel any surge of power either, no pink wisps of smoke to readily summon.
He chuckles at the absurdity before letting out a full blown laugh. He’s human. How, he doesn’t know, but he does know who to thank.
“Meow?”
“Wha-” Jinu turns around, finding a very fluffy, white with black stripes, yellow eyed cat, bigger than any cat has a right to be. It’s clearly a cat though, not a tiger, but when it stumbles on the same box as its owner and faceplants on its face, Jinu recognizes him all the same.
“I’m guessing you’re normal now too.” He crouches down and pets Tiger, who immediately flops onto his back, purring delightedly. “So sending a note like last time is not an option.”
Jinu eventually gets up to explore more of the apartment. It looks like he has recently moved in, all his stuff still sealed. After rummaging through three boxes, he discovers what seems to be his phone back in the bedroom, next to the pillow.
Phones still freak him out. He still hasn’t learned all of its functions, but putting his face in frame to unlock it is simple enough. Contacts, Messages, Gallery… Everything is empty, like the phone is brand new. Frowning, Jinu swipes down, somehow opening a new screen entirely with some shocking information on the top left. The date.
“This is not the day after the Namsan concert,” he whispers, “this is four years ago.”
He’s not an idol, then, since Saja Boys was not even a year old at their demise. “I’m younger too,” he realizes. He could see his youth in the mirror, when he thinks about it, but he thought it was just the new body’s lack of stress. He’s had the same mug for 400 years, the rounder cheeks and slightly narrower shoulders is obvious, in hindsight.
“Am I a student?” he ponders. “Did this Jinu have a job? What's my status?”
He nearly jumps out of his skin when a blue light materializes in the air in front of him, forming floating words that make no sense whatsoever.
STATUS ABNORMALITY
[Debut or Die]
You will die unless you debut as an idol within the allotted time.
Time remaining: 364 days
“What the hell?” He swipes through it, hoping the ultimatum would just turn into smoke and disappear. Unfortunately the words stay, shimmering menacingly, moving to always be in his line of sight even when he tries to turn around and ignore it. Is this his divine punishment?
“Oh, I really need to see Rumi.”