Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Where I go, will you still follow?” 

—

They went from one tyrant to the next, did they not? 

If their heads were not bowed to Gwi-ma, they were bowed to Jinu. They did not wish to admit it, but it was simply the truth. He orchestrated this plan—this grand scheme to drag them and their ranks out of the depths, out of the darkness forever to feast from humanity’s open heart. 

And then, like a fool, like the traitor they knew him to be, he turned on them. 

He fell into the arms of a girl. A hunter. Yielding his soul to her, a soul once bound in chains, fusing with her in a culmination of power that seemed to have been forgotten amidst their little spat. 

Love. 

It was so simple. So disgustingly simple. 

He yielded himself over, and of course, that could’ve been his decision alone. He would’ve taken the fall, and perhaps, the rest of them would’ve been fine with that but… No. It was never that simple was it? 

Minhoo gasped, something wet and bitter filling his mouth, lurching forward out of darkness and ruin, his vision blurred around the edges. He choked, finding himself on his knees, clawing blindly at anything around him, his talons scraping against slick pavement. He wretched and the bitterness left him, expelled from his body. 

His body shook, feeling… Feeling. That was wrong. Very wrong. He wasn’t meant to feel anything, not physically. Their pain, their choices were all mental torment, confined to their minds, why did he feel… Pain? 

He sucked in another breath of air, chest heaving. His heart felt as though it was going to simply implode, the thought sent him into a panic—which, again, was strange—and he tasted iron on his lips for the second time. 

Right. He was bleeding. He hadn’t experienced the sensation in years. He could vaguely recall being run through with some fell blade centuries past, under the mercy of a human—an assassin, yes. He hadn’t been paying attention much. He’d killed them in a blind rage the moment the pain registered, but here, there was no one around him to rend, to punish for his suffering. 

His fists clenched, trembling violently. This shouldn’t be happening.

Minhoo’s vision had cleared up considerably since retching up what he estimated to be more blood than was normal. He was in an alleyway, street lights flickering like stars, bathing him in a putrid green glow. 

Skies, he had to look awful right now. Something about that irked him, with all the work he’d put in to look perfect for all the humans they’d been entertaining. It shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. 

Dragging his body off of the floor, he leaned against the wall for support, a shuddering sigh passing through his lips. 

The sounds of coughing and similar hacking filtered into his ears, and his head snapped towards the source. 

Hackles raised, he bristled not unlike a feline ready to pounce, although he was in no condition to do such a thing, we can tell you that. Even so, his eyes glowed, pupils expanding, exposing irses of gold & flame. 

He counted.. Two.. No, three people. Their shadowy figures on the ground, trembling just as he had been not but moments ago. Minhoo ventured a step forward, talons extended at his side instinctively. 

The figure nearest to him seemed to notice his presence, growling at him most savagely. He almost mistook him for a dog, a rabid one at that. 

Wait. 

“… Raejin.” 

The snarling ceased, a slim young man stepping into view, if one could even call him a man for he sported a pair of protruding fangs similar to tusks, stained black from whatever internal injury he’d sustained. His purple hair was mussed beneath his hat, and his face—or what he could make out of it—appeared sunken.

Behind him, the other two individuals gathered themselves, and Minhoo realized the truth of the matter. 

“It’s you,” he mumbled, his tone a bit rougher than intended but he made no effort to correct it. 

“Who else did you think it was?” Taewon snapped, grimacing at him. Minhoo’s eyes found themselves trailing down his form, not for his figure, but rather, the glowing lesions poorly hidden beneath his dark robes. They pulsated with a spellbinding rhythm, a purple shower of light oozing from his body. 

Kairo, who seemed to be in a far worse state than any of them, leaned against Taewon, blood still dripping from his mouth. “Where are we right now…?” 

Minhoo looked up, his head cocking to the side. “Mortal plane.” 

“Are you kidding me right now?” 

“How could that even happen-“ 

“It’s Jinu.” Raejin rasped, catching the two demon’s attention. His tongue slinked out from between his teeth, flicking thoughtfully across his stained tusks. “He changed Allegiance.” 

“You can’t change Allegiance, we’re tied to—“ 

“Don’t say his name.” Kairo hissed, glaring daggers into Taewon’s skull. 

Minhoo’s brows raised, just a fraction of an inch, partially concealed behind his bangs. Jinu. They followed him, they followed him for centuries, throughout the ages in fact. They’d pillaged and destroyed under his command, reaping what little souls they could in a world that was safe and coveted beneath the Hunter’s watchful gaze. 

Just as they were Gwi-ma’s, they belonged to him, as much as they hated to admit it. 

Lips parting, Minhoo clicked his tongue, layering his tone with relaxants. “He yielded. Made an agreement.” 

Raejin nodded, his purple hair fluttering in the wind. Taewon didn’t seem so convinced, the shadow that had settled over his brow growing ever more prominent. 

“If he made an agreement where the hell is he?” 

“With her.” Minhoo replied, smoothly, biting back a smile as he saw wrath—a passion steeped in resentment—blossom within him. “But since he’s with her… We also defer to her, and her kin.” 

Ah, that set them off. Shouting filled up the alleyway, fluctuating between heated words exchanged in the common tongue to a full blown argument in a language that would likely split the choir of the Heavens. 

It didn’t last of course, but it did drag on longer than needed. Most of their arguments were quickly dispelled by Jinu, but now, with him gone and him being the epicenter of their division… Hm. 

“We don’t have time for this.” He piped up, shaking out his silvery blue hair, green light dripping down his frame in a sickly ooze. “What’s done is done. We are alive, and we still serve Jinu—“ 

“He is a traitor, Minhoo.” Kairo helpfully supplied; he rolled his eyes. 

“Mm. He is, but now we get to serve ourselves.” 

“And what are we supposed to do with this “freedom”, Baby?” 

Minhoo snarled, his shoulders tensing at the name. He didn’t mind it before, he usually didn’t if he tuned it out, but he hated it when he said it like that. 

“What we do, Abby, is do what we do best.” He sighed, dragging his thumb across the corner of his mouth, inspecting the dark liquid that still lingered on his skin, then, swiping the pad of his finger down his tongue, tasting toxicity.

“Sing, of course.” 

Chapter Text

Rumi shifted on her bed, kicking her legs and tangling up the sheets that had been pushed to the base long ago. The pleasant chatter from behind her closed door now nothing but a memory, whispering softly in her ear as the mere notion of her friends soothed her nerves. 

She didn’t know why she hadn’t been able to sleep lately. She’d taken all of Zoey’s suggestions from soothing teas to boring movies, all the way up to discussing the possibility of getting her a cat. 

She turned down Zoey’s offer, of course. With them constantly performing and being on tour, she didn’t trust herself to deliver the proper amount of care an animal needed, but she did get a plushie—a tiger in fact. 

It currently lay at her side, nestled beneath her chin, its lifeless eyes staring blankly at her throat which bobbed as she swallowed another frustrated sigh. 

It had been almost a month since Gwi-ma’s defeat, and the Honmoon was made new. They hadn’t achieved the gold they were initially aiming for but.. She thought they’d gotten something better. A stronger, more secure foundation. 

When they tried for gold again—no, when they did, it would work this time. There were no secrets, no doubts, nothing to keep them bound. 

Rumi hugged the plushie close to her chest, staring out at her windows, keeping the gleaming city just out of her reach. If she stared long enough, she could see the current of song, the canopy they’d cast over the world. 

Her marks, jagged tendrils shooting across her skin, pulsed softly, bathing her sheets in white-lavender light. 

It was easy to think about things like this. Her friends, the Honmoon, their lives… 

It wasn’t easy to think about what they’d left behind.

Who she left behind. 

Thinking about Jinu was a complicated thing—all thoughts of him seemed to only bring a throbbing pain that she could never quite stamp out despite all her efforts. And at the same time, she smiled at his memory, at the things he said, everything he did… 

It was easy to see him through rose colored lenses. It was easier, but she didn’t do easy did she? 

She couldn’t ignore his actions, the way he hurt her, but she also couldn’t dispel the sacrifice he made but then— 

Was it selfish to wish he hadn’t done it at all? 

He gave her his soul. He’d said it, whispered it to her with a smile so sweet and bright she thought she might just fall for him all over again. 

But… She didn’t feel it with her. When she tried to reach, scouring her mind and heart to find him somewhere in the chinks and cracks, she only dredged up his memory. 

Rumi squeezed her eyes shut, bringing her knees to her chest, her satiny pajamas rubbing against her skin in a soothing way. 

All of this thinking, all of this missing made her want to get up and go. To do something, to sing again, but she’d promised the girls to actually take a break this time. A real one. 

They deserved it after all, and she couldn’t go back on her word. Not after everything they’d been through. 

Rumi, knowing better than to dwell on things that would only keep her awake for longer than needed, tucked her thoughts away and made some valiant attempt at forcing herself to go to sleep. 

It didn’t work, but we can praise her efforts. She laid there in silence for perhaps thirty minutes or so, watching their current ripple across the city, a promise, a haven for all of humanity. 

And against her will, her mind began to drift, and her eyes grew heavy, slipping off into a peaceful slumber. 

And it was! It was perhaps the most wonderful rest she’d had since this issue popped up. But not all good things are meant to last, for just as she fell deeper into her rest, she was pulled into some place, a place quite far from where her mind usually wandered when it slept. 

Rumi stretched, but instead of feeling a soft mattress and comforters beneath her, she felt grass pricking her skin. The scent of flowers wafted through her nose, wet dew upon her lashes. 

She froze, pausing for a comically long time before scrambling to get up, her left hand reaching for her sword but finding it quite gone from her side. 

She was in a field, a lush green one, in fact. Overflowing with flowers of purple and blue, white and green, carpeting the grass in heaps and clumps. The sky overhead seemed to be indecisive of whether it should be night or day, caught between the two of them. And across the unnatural heaven, an aurora, large and grand bled out across the canvas of the sky, creating a whirlwind of colors all distinct and strange. 

In front of her, a large willow tree stood, its trunk bowing over from the weight of its hanging leaves, long strands creating a dome, a veil that just barely hid the clear grass it covered. 

Rumi, who hadn’t won a fight against curiosity yet, found herself strolling towards it, minding the thicker patches of flowers until she reached the edge of the flora filled field, pushing aside the reeds and stepping under the willow tree. 

“Oh..” She inhaled, her eyes suddenly locked on the base of the tree. It could have been for a number of reasons, perhaps for the symbols and images ingraved into the wood, the wrath of fireflies that flitted about it, or the shadow of a person who stood just behind it. 

 It was blurry, hard to make out but she saw them and she knew them. She knew it was him. 

Rumi rushed over, nearly tripping over a root as she came to peek around the trunk… Finding no one. 

“What…?” 

“Were you looking for someone, dear?” A sugary, wondering voice whispered behind her. 

Rumi would be quite ashamed to say she jumped, whirling around with her fists raised. 

It wasn’t who she thought it was. It was a stranger, in every sense of the word. 

A woman stood before her, blonde curls meticulously styled to frame her face hidden behind a porcelain mask depicting the cunning expression of a gumiho. She could feel her smirk through the ceramic, the heat of her gaze cutting down to her very essence. 

There was nothing kind about her, yet, she did not seem cruel. Skin pale as a morning lily glistened as she leaned back against the base of the tree, splaying her fingers across the bark, flaunting claws dipped in red. 

They complimented her dress, her sash. It fell past her knees, hugging her body yet pronouncing no softness, it only drew attention to her jagged edges. 

Rumi frowned, her posture still defensive. “Who are you?” 

The woman hummed, cocking her head to the side like a greyhound. “No one terribly important, I assure you. Just a traveler.” 

“A traveler.” 

“Yes.” 

She clenched her fists. “O-kay… Um, where is—“ 

“Jinu?” She finished for her, startling her quite a bit. Another laugh pealed from this supposed traveler, gentle as a blade pressed to the sternum. “Oh, I would think you’d keep better track of your toys, my dear! He is yours after all.” 

Rumi bristled. “Jinu is not a toy!” 

“Would you prefer the term tool?” 

“Listen, I don’t know who you are, and I really don’t care anymore. Just—“ a pause, considering. “What did you say?” 

A red claw tapped thoughtfully against her mask, each peck ringing out like a bell. “Hm? Oh! I said you should keep better track of your toys.” 

Rumi just barely kept from grimacing, her brows knitting together in frustration. 

“Yes. I remember. But, you also said he was.. mine. How do you know that?” 

The woman’s head snapped straight, sending her curls bobbing. “Mm.. Your recent triumph had a very prominent broadcast,” she began, slowly. “Let’s just say, I had the pleasure of tuning in and experiencing it for myself.” 

“You’re a demon, aren’t you?” 

Rumi thought she had heard her laugh before, but clearly, she hadn’t even scratched the surface. If she were a vase she might have shattered for the force of her laughter shook the fields around them, grass quivering as she bent over, overcome with the absurdity of such a suggestion. 

“Would you stop that! There’s nothing funny about this!” 

“Well that’s exactly where you're wrong my dear!” She cried, “there’s plenty to be enjoyed with this. Oh, I haven’t heard such a ridiculous question in so long!” 

“You didn’t answer me.” 

“Ahaha! I certainly thought I did, but if you need it in clearer terms the answer is: no.” She sniffed, turning her face away from Rumi who had since lowered her arms, but not her guard. 

“Do you really think any old demon could get here? In your dreams? Imagine a Hunter being plagued by those scum even in her sleep…” 

Rumi had long since decided she didn’t like this individual, and had a mind to strangle her even if she wasn’t a demon at all, but some part of her restrained her from expressing this animosity, instead extending grace. Limited, tested grace, but we digress. 

She sighed, lips pressing into a thin line then parting once more. “Then, what exactly are you?” 

“I’m surprised you don’t know,” the woman mused. “A Hunter should have insight on all beings of her realm… How odd. But I won’t hold you in suspense, I am merely a spirit. Gumiho.” 

As if to further her point, she held out her hand, palm facing flat. Her pearly skin shuddered, iridescent patterns weaving beneath the flesh like veins, however, they held no jagged edges like the ones Rumi was accustomed to. They were smooth, almost akin to crescents in the way they wrapped around her slim wrists and shot down her fingers. 

She could still be a demon. 

Unconsciously, Rumi looked down to her own, a stark contrast to the woman’s patterns. 

“Gumiho… Those are, uh, fox spirits, right?”

“Exact as an equation.” Came the reply, a feathery purr that rode the breeze. 

“That.. That still doesn’t explain why you’re here or anything else.” 

She retracted her hand; her mask’s cheerful expression no longer mocking, but rather, appraising. 

“That is true, and I do feel just awful keeping you in the dark. So, I suppose I’ll leave you with something to consider-“ 

“Leave me?” 

The woman chirped. “Yes! It’s almost time for you to wake up, I'd hate to encroach upon your time, so let’s make this quick.” 

The woman beckoned Rumi forward, settling herself on the grass, nestled between the gnarled roots that protruded from the ground. 

She knew she should be more cautious, more weary of this.. creature who claimed she wasn’t what she seemed, but she hadn’t hurt her yet. If she wanted to do any damage, she would’ve done it by now. 

Rumi steeled herself and sat on her knees before the Gumiho, only now did she realize she was much smaller than she looked up close. 

“I know you were looking for Jinu earlier.” Her voice was a caress on her ears, just as saccharine as when they’d first encountered each other. “It’s so strange… You’re looking for him but he’s already here.” 

Rumi stared at her, eyes creasing at the corners, fending off the grief that threatened to spill over from her heart. “If he was here, I’d know it but it was just…” 

“He’s here.” She soothed, the pads of her fingers grazing over her knee. “You keep digging for him, tearing yourself open to find him but all you have to do is invite him in.” 

Rumi shook her head, nails digging into her palms. It couldn’t be that easy, she’d tried. She tried everything, he was just… 

The woman sighed, withdrawing her touch. She had a feeling she was frowning at her. 

“For once in your life, let your hope spill into this, Rumi.” 

Sunlight pooled in from large glass windows, trekking slowly across the floor and beginning its perilous ascent up the side of her bed. 

Rumi didn’t quite wake, rather, she almost peeled herself from the rest she had sunken so deeply into. She felt exhausted, and she almost wondered if she’d even slept at all until she remembered her dream. 

Sitting up, Rumi relinquished the tiger plush from her hold, rubbing her eyes with a heavy groan. 

What was that? She’d had some weird dreams but nothing like that, it almost felt… 

“RUMI! OH MY GOD, YOU AREN’T GONNA BELIEVE THIS-“ 

Without warning Zoey, in all her energetic glory, burst into her room and jumped on her bed, scrambling towards her like an excited puppy, gripping her phone as if it was a grenade. 

“Um- hey, what ever happened to good morning?” She tried, but that didn’t seem to slow her roll at all.

“Mornings later—well, I guess-??“ Zoey pouted, drawing back all of a sudden like she’d done something rotten. “Good morning! Now look!” 

She whipped her phone out in front of her, the screen pressing against Rumi’s nose. She backed up, her brows arched in silent question but she knew better than to ask, it was best just to look. 

Rubbing her eyes, Rumi yawned and squinted, looking at the colorful image on the screen. 

Her eyes widened. 

The Saja Boys? 

—

Funny. Getting their status back as Idols was easier than he thought it would be. 

All it actually took was someone coincidentally recognizing them once they’d cleaned themselves up and the internet did all the work for them. 

Well, most of the work anyway. 

Minhoo reclined lazily into a sleek armchair amidst a tiny cafe, staring up at the ceiling while the boys around him were busy talking about… Something. 

He tuned them out once they started up again about Jinu. Talking about him almost always led to another argument, and he didn’t want any parts of that. 

Really, he didn’t understand what the big deal was. Sure, he betrayed them, but that was just who he was. He was always selfish, it was just easy to look past since they all were too. 

Besides, his pitfall managed to get them back to the mortal plane, which was a pretty decent perk in his opinion. Only downside was they were pretty weak in their current states, their magic limited under the full strength of the Honmoon. 

So there were pros and cons. They were still free… As free as they could be without their masters there to command them. 

Minhoo huffed, sinking further into the chair, his head lolling forward lazily. 

It seemed he’d avoided the entire argument this time, but of course, he was left to piece everything back together. 

His gaze flicked to Mystery who was staring at his phone. He didn’t know how he could see anything through those bangs, but.. Eh. 

“Raejin.” He intoned; the other male’s head barely turned, but he knew he was listening. “Do you think you can find us an agent?” 

“—That’s what I was doing.” Kairo huffed, casting his disapproving eyes on him. He blinked innocently, fluttering his lashes. 

“You, were taking too long.” 

“Finding an agent is more difficult than it looks, an agent is usually supposed to find you, or you get a connection-“ 

Taewon cut in, leaning forward to rest his arms on the coffee table in front of them, rolling his shoulders back in a not so subtle flex. “Why don’t we just, I dunno, hypnotize someone.” 

Minhoo snickered, “hypnotize someone? With what, your abs? Have you forgotten we have virtually no power here?” 

Taewon rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Skies, he needed to invest in some real shirts, the buttons were on the verge of bursting. “I didn’t forget, but working the charm might just get us someone gullible enough to help us out~..” 

And of course he had to flex his stupid biceps. At this rate, Minhoo was sure he was going to have an aneurysm. 

“We’re not doing that. Raejin, you got anything?” 

His eyes flicked over to the quiet man at his side, ignoring Taewon’s gaze which held nothing but malice. He’d have to deal with that sometime, he wouldn’t want him to have a little outburst and act on those volatile emotions. 

Unfortunately, knowing Minhoo, later more often meant when it was right in his face. 

So, he brushed off the dark, festering thing growing in his companion and instead peered over Raejin’s shoulder to peek at his phone. 

He was brushed off almost immediately, one slender finger being held up to his face. He flopped back in his chair with a groan. 

“Might as well let em’ work Baby.” Taewon smirked, looming over him even from this distance. His flesh rippled, patterns cresting over his skin as if they were waves lapping at a shoreline. He stood up without warning, flexing his hand grimly. 

“You want something to drink while we’re here?” 

“I’m good-“ he didn’t even manage to get the full sentence out before his hand clapped down on his shoulder, talons peeking out from beneath a facade of perfect, tanned skin. 

“C’mon. I’ll buy.” He husked, squeezing down rather too hard to be a mere gesture of friendliness. 

Great. 

Minhoo got up without another word, leaving Raejin and Kairo to look for their future agent while he was led off to get a drink. 

Oh, he wasn’t an idiot, he wasn’t getting a drink. He probably wouldn’t even taste a sip of water much less a latte the way Taewon was clamping down on him. 

When they were quite out of view of the other two demons, he made an attempt to swerve him in the direction of the bathroom, but Minhoo halted his tracks, digging his heels into the tiles, stopping them just in front of the display case. 

“Have I upset you?” Intentional, his voice pitched towards a deeper timber, resonating within his chest like a gentle purr. His eyes widened, looking up at Taewon with practiced naivety. 

“Don’t try that crap with me.” He drawled, leering down at him with that stupid smile. This was such a waste of time, but his eyes only shimmered, entirely precious. 

“I’m sorry if I made you mad. This situation isn’t ideal for any of us.” 

Talons dug into the woolen material of his sweater, puncturing the tender flesh beneath. Minhoo exhaled softly. 

“I’m trying my best to help us stay on track, you know Jinu wouldn’t want us fighting, or making poor decisions..” 

Taewon arched a brow at him, clearly unconvinced, but enjoying the show. He wet his bottom lip, gently massaging his shoulder.      
“It’s funny, for a second there I almost believed you.” 

“What do I need to do to make you believe me?” 

His voice was a breathy whimper in his ear, holding not a modicum of sincerity. Even so, he pressed on, tentatively, with just enough hesitation to sell his veil of youth, he slipped his hand into Taewon’s, lacing their fingers together sweetly. 

That seemed to do it for him, for he went from smug to confused all in a matter of seconds. 

He’d never had anyone back away from him so fast. 

Minhoo spun on his heel, facing him with a boyish grin. “What’s wrong?” 

Taewon’s expression dropped, staring at him for a good minute before scoffing and shoving his hands in his pockets. “You're a real freak, you know that?” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” He chirped, stalking towards the counter without another word. Thankfully, it seemed that the barista had missed their “disagreement”, for she came around from the back and took their orders without delay. If she recognized them, she certainly didn’t say, but she did take too many double takes while handing them their drinks. 

Taewon had paid for his drink just like he’d said, some foaming concoction that was more syrup than coffee while he just got matcha. By the time they'd returned to their little private corner in the cafe it seemed as though Kairo and Raejin had made some progress as they pooled their findings and presented all the candidates they thought would work best. 

Once they filtered to the end of the list, they ended up with five candidates total. At that point, that got nitpicky. That is to say, they were blowing off choices for stupid reasons—and despite how Minhoo or Raejin protested, they were left with one individual. 

“Hanuel..” Kairo muttered, his eyes cutting as he evaluated the tiny photo provided with his resume. He hummed noncommittally. “He’s cute.” 

“Right, because we’re looking for cute.” Minhoo snarked, looking further down the page. “He’s new to the industry, he might be inexperienced.” 

“I don’t know about inexperienced, aren’t some of those people he’s worked with on the charts?” Taewoon commented, sipping his matcha. 

He wasn’t wrong per se, it was just… Ugh. 

“Raejin, what do you think?” 

All eyes turned to him, for unsurprisingly, he hadn’t said a word about the matter. He stood up, coming to stand at Kairo’s stead, looking down at his phone in silent contemplation. 

He shrugged. 

“Eh, that’s good enough for me.” Taewoon yawned, stretching his shoulders with unnecessary exaggeration. 

Minhoo gestured for Kairo’s phone, bringing it to his face once he’d handed it over. “Alright, all we have to do now is find him. Simple.” 

The rest of the boys seemed to be less laser focused on this than he was, which was a bit disappointing if he was being honest. He couldn’t let them get lazy, not when they were actually making progress. 

“Where can we find him?” Taewon mused, drumming his fingers against Kairo’s arm, the pink-haired man didn’t seem to mind very much. 

“It didn’t say… It does have his address though.” 

Minhoo choked back a laugh, his head snapping up at the implication. “That’s too forward, we have to be subtle. Isn’t there someplace we can bump into him?” 

The soft glow of a phone screen illuminated the right side of his face, turning, he found himself looking at Raejin’s device, his screen pulled up to… A restaurant. Huh. 

This should be fun. 

Chapter Text

The restaurant was much smaller than Minhoo expected. 

It was a quaint little place tucked away between various storefronts and bars, the warm atmosphere a stark contrast to its weathered exterior. 

Most of the furniture was wooden, glowing like burnished brass under hanging incandescent lights, their light funneled through copper cones that provided a unique spotlight effect. 

Various artwork lined the walls, some easily recognizable pieces from popular artists overseas, those he barely glanced at. But there were a few that caught his eye, mainly the grand tapestries depicting benevolent goddesses, tricksters, and creatures harboring various masks. 

It was strange, those were probably the most beautiful pieces in the restaurant but they were intentionally placed out of view. He wouldn’t have noticed it if he didn’t deliberately take the time to look around. 

Taewon nudged him, breaking through his thoughts and pointing towards a booth in the corner. A head of blonde hair stood out to him; he nodded. 

“That’s him.” 

Minhoo might have advanced towards him, if not for the fact that Kairo stepped out ahead of him. Why was he—

He reached out, tugging at his sleeve as to bring him to a halt, his brows arched in polite disdain. 

“What?” 

“What are you doing?” 

Kairo deadpanned. “Oh, I’m sorry, do you have some grand scheme that we haven’t been clued in on?” 

“Yes.” 

He blinked, but didn’t fall back in line, instead shrugging off his hand and facing him fully. “We’re just going over there and talking to him, it’s not rocket science.” 

“We’re employing him. We need to be a united front, otherwise he’ll have no reason to take us seriously.” 

“Why do we have to be united under you?” Taewon challenged, “who’s to say Kairo doesn’t have a plan of his own? Do you not trust us?” 

They had the most astounding timing, really. It was like they intentionally picked pivotal moments to test his patience. Minhoo’s eyes flicked from the demons to the agent in the booth, blissfully unaware of their fracturing loyalty. Something like indignance threatened to seep into his tone, into his words. Jagged edges fluttering around the base of his throat, pulsing darkly. 

He swallowed. “I trust you all implicitly.” 

His tongue felt heavy as lead, golden hues  flaring like fire within a crucible, pupils the blackened core charred within. “But that does not change the fact that we are at a disadvantage. An impression, a good one, is everything right now. So…” 

He sighed, “don’t think you’re united under me. We’re united together, hm?” 

The silence that followed was wrought with tension, going unbroken aside from a few stiff nods of agreement. 

Minhoo’s shoulders relaxed, the pressure around his windpipe letting up as he allowed himself to breathe. He cracked his knuckles, turning his back to the group as he stepped forward. 

They walked in sync, falling into step with one another as if it were the most natural thing in the world, their brief dispute left to wither behind them until it was nurtured by some other small, pointless force that would bring it life once more. 

Kairo touched down at the booth, slipping in to sit towards the wall. Raejin followed, a menu in hand that he hadn’t noticed before, allowing Minhoo himself to slip in beside him, and Taewon topped them off. 

Their candidate seemed to be rather absorbed with their device, but his attention soon waned the moment they filed in, four sets of eyes resting upon him with rapt attention. 

Kairo was right, he was an attractive man. Composed of blonde hair which fell in curtains around a pale, delicate face; offset by amber eyes flecked with hints of auburn, distinctly fox-like in their intelligent stare. A pair of tiny spectacles sat perched on the bridge of his nose, gold rims pronounced under the light. 

He sported a pinstripe suit of such a deep blue he nearly mistook it for black. A living brooch rested just over his breast, right above where his heart should lie, unusual in that it depicted an iridescent beetle. 

Minhoo hummed, glancing over him once more as he powered off his phone. 

“The Saja Boys.” He began, regarding each of them with a small nod. “I’m surprised to see you, most people thought you went on an unannounced hiatus after your live performance.. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“You’re Hanuel, correct?” 

“I am.” 

Minhoo glanced at Kairo, an unspoken agreement passing between them. He piped up not soon after. 

“We’ve been looking for you.” 

Hanuel blinked, an odd smile tugging at his lips; like a cat who’s just heard several dogs were seeking his input. “Ah? I’m.. Flattered to hear that. More people have been looking for you.”

“We’re in need of an agent.” Taewon explained, slinging one arm over the side of the booth, his head tipping to the side curiously. “And we thought you’d make a good candidate.” 

The blonde’s smile widened a fraction, it was a minute change, but a tell all the same. “If I may ask, why me specifically?” 

Nervous. Minhoo propped his chin up in his palm, leaning forward with a pleasant smile. “Why not you? Your credentials are promising, and we feel as though you’d make an excellent choice.” 

A chuckle fluttered from the man’s lips, somewhat insincere. “That’s very kind of you to say. I only thought to ask out of curiosity.” He wet his lips, “although, I hope you don’t mind my asking, but there are five of you in total, correct?” 

Minhoo could feel his companions stiffening around him, in truth, he nearly grimaced himself, the atmosphere suddenly stripped of warmth. 

“There are, yes,” he replied, breezily. “Jinu is currently taking some time for himself to rest his voice.” 

Hanuel’s smile had long since retreated into a more sensible smirk, one that questioned the authenticity of his answer but remained respectful all the same. “Mm.”

“That being said, I hope he has a speedy recovery.” Sure you do. “But, er, returning to the topic at hand, if it’s your intention to hire me then I’ll be willing to accept on one condition.” 

“That being?” Kairo inquired, sparing a glance at Raejin who was scrolling through his phone. 

“Twenty percent.” 

“What?” 

Hanuel’s lips quirked. “I hope you’ll excuse me, but I was under the impression that you were in need of an agent. From my knowledge, you’ve functioned without one from the day of your first debut. Is this correct?” 

Taewon stiffened at his side. “Well, yeah, but-“ 

“I don’t mean anything by it, it’s just commendable, really. Especially considering you managed to take the world by storm with only two singles.” A sigh, “and interestingly, you didn’t capitalize on many opportunities aside from publicity. The fact that you need an agent now, when in fact, everything you did was entirely absent of one is interesting.” 

The table fell silent. What exactly were they supposed to say? Of course they didn’t need an agent at the time, they’d practically been cheating with the way they used their magic to secure all manner of connections. They’d only needed to release two singles since Soda Pop managed to gain a significant audience, and they only did all of that to feed a demon lord. 

On paper, it sounded insane. It looked insane. 

Minhoo sat up straight, as somewhere amidst the conversation he’d begun slouching, fingering the plastic of the menu at the table. “That was the past. We just happened to be acting at the right moment at the right time. We took a lot of risks but as of right now we’re looking to take steps towards a more solid foundation.” 

“And, Jinu is encouraging this.” 

“Yes.” 

Hanuel’s gaze swept over each of them, settling back more comfortably into the booth. 

“Eighteen percent.” 

“Are you—“ 

Minhoo nudged Kairo beneath the table, silencing him effectively. “That’s fine.” 

“I hope you don’t think ill of me. You’re a very talented group, in fact, the best I’ve ever seen, but you’re also a risky investment.” The blonde mused, tapping his device & checking the time. “Your hiatus was poorly timed. Even with that video circulating around about your supposed “return”, you have to beat out Huntrix all over again.” 

“I think we’ll manage.” Taewon replied, flatly; earning a smile from Hanuel. 

“I have no doubt that you will. If there’s nothing further to discuss you can take down my contact information, and we’ll get a contract situated by this evening.. To make it official.” A pause, his head tipping to the side. “Where are you staying as of right now?” 

That was certainly a question. The boys all looked at each other awkwardly. 

“… I’ll set you up with a hotel. Consider it an investment that I expect to be repaid.” 

“Of course,” Minhoo demurred, doing his best to hide his embarrassment. 

“How about we pay you back now and buy you lunch instead?” Taewon offered. 

“Mm. It’s an investment, not a favor.” The blonde grinned, showing his fangs. “But I’ll take lunch anyway.” 

Minhoo frowned, finding himself falling silent as Taewon continued his friendly banter with their new agent. His eyes focused on the sharp canines set amidst pearly whites—a small detail that almost disrupted the clean, astute image he presented. It was fiendish, completely at odds with his persona. 

He entertained a thought, a theory. Tongue swiping across the roof of his mouth, pressing against wolffish canines of his own. 

It was a baseless theory, if anything else. But it didn’t stop it from circulating within his mind throughout the rest of their time in the restaurant. 

Coincidentally, this restaurant just so happened to serve some of the best bibimbap he’d had since being here. That being said, their act of good will quickly turned into overindulgence as most of their money was spent on Taewon because he kept ordering more. The moment he made the suggestion of beer was the second they all realized they had to get the hell out of there before they racked up a tab. 

Hanuel combed through his hair as he exited the door with them, yawning softly as the crisp night air met his skin. “We might as well ride together since I doubt you have a means of getting to the hotel.” 

“Ouch, rude.” Taewon sneered, checking behind him to make sure they didn’t leave Raejin behind, his hand ruffling the shorter man’s hair. 

Kairo shrugged, muttering under his breath. “He’s not wrong…” 

“That’s kind of you,” Minhoo replied instead, rocking on his heels absentmindedly. 

Hanuel only made a small sound in reply, typing away on his phone, sparing few words on them. 

While there was initially some debate on simply taking the subway, they ended up taking a car instead, which turned out to be a better choice in the end as there was some walking distance between the hotel and the subway. 

The hotel in itself was much more luxurious than Minhoo expected it to be, and he suddenly wondered if Hanuel had intentionally chosen it knowing good and well his little investment would be repaid when they began touring. 

Regardless of his intentions, the boys cashed in on it immediately, rushing up to their rooms the moment they’d checked in and finding spacious and opulent accommodations to fill their every need. Minhoo, of course, didn’t get comfortable immediately, instead seeking after Hanuel who seemed all too eager to present the contracts he’d printed out in the lounge area located somewhere in this maze of a hotel. 

“Just be certain to have the boys sign individually. I’ll excuse Jinu’s absence for the time being but when he returns, he’ll need to agree as well.” 

His words still lingered in his mind, even as he flipped through the papers, scrutinizing every line of text. Despite his suspicions, there was nothing that jumped out at him as insidious—besides that commision rate, skies above—so he’d signed it along with the others, setting it on the table in the living area before retreating to his room. 

Expecting complete solitude, he was somewhat surprised to find Raejin sitting on his bed. He stared at him for half a second before approaching him, taking up the space beside him. 

“Not enough rooms?” 

He shook his head, lavender hair waving along with him. 

“You can sleep with me, it’s fine.” 

Raejin’s limited expressions and body language were often inaccurate tells for his mood, he’d quickly realized. Not that he wasn’t emotional, he’d argue he was the most emotional of all of them. He just expressed it differently. 

So, when Raejin began taking off his earrings and wandering towards the expansive walk-in wardrobe, retrieving a fluffy robe and towel, he didn’t think much of it. He’d thank him in his own way later, as long as he was comfortable and happy he didn’t really care. 

Minhoo flopped onto the mattress with a groan once the bathroom door clicked shut, stretching out languidly and upsetting the taught sheets beneath him. 

He was exhausted, and considering the circumstances, he had perfect reason to be. He didn’t even feel like changing out of his clothes, all he wanted to do was sleep. 

We suppose we shouldn’t keep him any longer than needed, sleep is a rather impatient thing, and it won’t ask twice. It’ll only knock and then come right in, throwing its coat over your chairs and settling in your favorite seat without so much as a “please, and thank you”. 

— 

“How could the Saja Boys be back!?” Mira exclaimed, nearly flipping their entire table of food and snacks with the force of her outburst. Zoey had wanted to tell her earlier, but Rumi suggested that they break the news to her gently before movie night so she would (hopefully) be too relaxed to march outside and go hunt the boyband down. 

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, with the Honmoon restored it shouldn’t be possible.” Rumi replied, steadying the table with her hands. 

“Maybe they’re.. Good now?” Zoey piped up, eyes shining. “What if they’re not demons anymore? That would be amazing!” 

“I don’t think that’s how it works…” 

“They’re still demons, Zoey,” Mira groaned, sinking into the couch with a frustrated sigh. “Why does this stuff always have to happen when we’re relaxing…” 

Rumi shook her head, slipping her phone out of her pants pocket to peek at her notifications. Ever since Zoey showed her that video the Internet had practically exploded with Saja Boys chatter, it was all anyone could talk about… And of course the, er, “ships” had resurfaced as well. 

She had to block the Rujinu tag on her phone with how often she was seeing it now. 

“Well, they can’t be demons-demons if they’re walking around when the Honmoon is up.” 

Mira cleared her throat, gesturing with a flourish towards Rumi who only laughed. 

“Oookay.. But still! C’mon, we have to keep an open mind.” 

“I’ll keep an open mind when I pound their skulls in.” 

Rumi shook her head, facing the two of them on the couch. “We can’t slay them, not when they just came back. That would be a bit suspicious, wouldn’t it? An idol group is spotted and then they disappear all of a sudden?” 

Mira sat up, her vibrant hair spilling over the couch, her expression pinched with concern. “We can’t just let them walk around either. What if they attack the Honmoon again? Go after the fans? We have to pin them down.” 

Zoey looked between the both of them, not so subtly sneaking a few sour candies in her mouth that Rumi was quite sure didn’t belong to her, but she didn’t comment on it. 

“… You're right. We have to pin them down,” she murmured, waving her hands once she saw Zoey’s worried expression. “But we aren’t slaying them. They’re too risky to be left to their own devices, so we’ll find them and corner them. Simple.” 

Mira seemed satisfied on the whole, but still apprehensive. She couldn’t blame her, after everything that had happened. “And what then? Babysit them?” 

“No, no… Just, keep tabs on them and make sure the Honmoon stays stable.” 

Zoey popped another sour gummie in her mouth before anyone noticed. “Sounds like a plan! Now… Who’s ready for movie night?” 

“You can seriously think of movies at a time like this?” Mira snorted, a smile gracing her lips as the other woman leaned into her side, tucking her head under her chin. 

“Obviously! Spending time with you guys is way more important than whatever those boys are doing.” 

“You’re right about that,” Rumi chimed in, filling up the small pocket of space beside Mira, tossing her braid back so it wasn’t crushed between her back and the couch. “We’ll handle that first thing in the morning though, okay?” 

“Alright—“ 

“Yes yes yes, NOW, time for the movie marathon of a LIFETIME!” 

“…Isn’t this just a four hour long collection of cat videos.” 

“Shhhh…” 

Chapter Text

It was very rare that a demon should dream, in fact, it was practically unheard of. 

Under Gwi-ma’s reign, there was no room for such frivolous things, their desires all caught up within his own until they were merely reflections of his will. The common demon never dreamed, nor did they find any rest to welcome them, they only stewed in their king’s desires and never wanted anything more. 

Minhoo was no common demon, nor were his companions, however. And they were subject to “dreams”, if they could even be called that. 

They were only a form of subjugation wielded by Gwi-ma to keep them under his heel. Oh, he would allow them little things—treats. Delusions to fill them as they attempted to rest on scorching ground, crowding their imaginations with all that they could have as long as they obeyed, as long as they did well, as long as they fed him.

During times of bounty he was generous with these treats, just as one might stretch out their hand to feed a dog, he did so with them, spoiling them rotten with fruitless fantasies that never came to pass. 

Most of what he dreamt during those times he could not recall, only that he would wake up hungry. Wanting. Needing . 

Filled to the brim with hollow daydreams, left ravenous and unsatisfied with the waking world. It was easier that way, when they were hungry. Kept on a leash of their own thoughtless wanting; it never hurt when he jerked the chain because they were pulling anyway. 

But when he yoked them up, when he scolded them, when he forced the fullness of the world down their throats and made them bear the scorch of his touch, that was when they knew their dreams would never come to pass. 

Just as he had been kind, he could be cruel. They were aware, the part of them that was human, that was old and withered, that he was never kind. His kindness was only some form of mercy, and even that, was only restraint. 

They were reminded of this during their failure. 

He twisted every desire they had, including their dreams that night. It did not matter if they weren’t afraid , fear was such a clever beast and he wielded it so beautifully, if they weren’t terrified he would plant it within them, exacerbating it to the point of full blown terror. 

Thus, Minhoo was happy when he didn’t dream. He was happiest when his dreams were null and black, for he’d spent a day—a day that bled into oblivion, for every minute seemed longer, every second seemed to bring him more pain because no one was coming to save him, no matter how he screamed or begged for a second, a second of release—-

He spent a day just dreaming. 

And wishing he could wake. 

Minhoo laid beside Raejin, his head resting on his chest, listening to the fluttering drum of his heartbeat beneath his ear. His fingers tangled in the soft material of his pajamas—white, almost priestly robes that had fallen over his body like falls, engulfing his form. Raejin himself had taken to toying with his hair, combing through strands of turquoise in a carefree fashion.

His lips parted, rubbing circles across the collar of Raejin’s attire, blinking against the glare of the sun as it slithered through partially closed blinds. 

“I had a dream last night.” 

Minhoo’s fingers stilled. 

“I didn’t want to wake you.” 

“You should have. What was it?” 

Raejin’s palm pressed against his head, combing shifting into petting. “Jinu.” 

He felt his throat tighten, swallowing suddenly a chore all on its own as saliva pooled in his mouth. He felt the pressure of Raejin’s hand grow more firm, grounding. 

“Minhoo…” 

“Tell me.” 

“Breathe.” 

He cringed, his cheek pressing into the other man’s chest, hiding his face from view as he sucked in a sharp breath of air, ignoring the way his chest rattled, his breathing hitched. 

“We were in a vacuum, some endless space. His body was formless, liquid. It kept changing.” 

There was a pause, and Raejin’s hands fell from Minhoo’s head, coming to rest on his cheeks, gently guiding him to face him; return his gaze. 

“He was saying something to me, but I couldn’t hear. He seemed frustrated because of this, and tried to speak louder, but no matter how I strained, I couldn’t hear him.” 

Minhoo swallowed, but made no sound. 

“Nothing else happened.” He murmured, rubbing his thumb over his cheek. “It wasn’t a nightmare. Please, breathe.” 

“ I’m— “ He tensed, just about to snap at him, but thought better of it and did as he was told. “Sorry. I just worry.” 

“That’s not like you.” 

“I worry about you.” 

Raejin inclined his head towards him, a wisp of gold peeking out from behind his bangs. 

“So do I.” 

His heart clenched with some new pain. We couldn’t tell him that it was love, the sort that grows in dark corners when it thinks no one is looking, and is shocked to find its efforts praised. He felt entirely bare under his gaze, stripped clean of every facade he was forced to wear before the others. 

He had to. They wouldn’t take him seriously if he didn’t, if they saw him for the sickly animal he was he would never achieve what he so desired. 

But Raejin saw through him, just like he saw through everyone. It was a benefit, then, that he could cut him down just the same. 

“I know.” He licked his lips, squeezing his eyes shut, steeling himself against that penetrating stare. “It won’t be good if he comes back.” 

“It won’t be good if he doesn’t, either.” 

It would be difficult no matter how the situation unraveled, he could easily undo all of his efforts with a single word and have them at each other's throats, and in the same vein wave everything away and bring them to peace. Jinu was just like that, he always knew exactly what to say; exactly what to do as if the world were a script and he merely had the benefit of reading from it. 

His memory, his principles were the only thing keeping them tethered—and perhaps, Minhoo wished to keep living off of his memory.

 He did not want the man, he only wanted the mantle. 

“Minhoo.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Do you want to tell them?” 

His voice flowed like rushing waters, low yet resolved in its path, as if he already knew the answer but still felt led to entertain the question. 

Minhoo sat up, brushing off Raejin’s touch with more tenderness than he’d like to admit, slipping off the bed with a soft thud. “No.” 

Raejin sighed, following suit without another word. He might have disagreed, but Minhoo knew that he wouldn’t act against him, the way he saw it, he was too loyal. 

“Are you going to change?” He asked instead, his voice registering both too far & too near. 

“No- yeah. There may be something scheduled today. I just don’t know if there’s any…” 

As if to answer his question, Raejin wandered towards the walk-in closet within their room, leaning against it in a manner that was all to telling of his sleep-addled state. Even so, he was still helpful. 

A smile twitched at his lips, threatening to break through. “Thanks.” He murmured, stepping past him into a world of fabrics that likely wouldn’t fit his small frame, but he’d find something and make it work, that was for certain. 

With some effort, Minhoo managed to piece together a decent enough outfit while the one he’d slept in was folded and tucked away for the time being. 

It was a dress shirt a bit too big for his frame, fitted with golden lapels on the wings of the collar. He’d only opened the first button and tied the bottom of it into a decent bow since it hung a big past his waist. It was simple, and if anything it would likely get switched out for something else if this day went how he thought it was going to go, but for the time being, it served its purpose. 

Stifling a yawn, Minhoo pushed open the door to their room with his shoulder, stepping out into the living area only to find Taewon lounging on one of the many contemporary couches spread across the floor. 

Not missing a beat, he strode towards him, leaning his body weight against the arm of the couch, head propped up in open palms. “Morning.” 

Taewon chuckled, cocking his head to the side. “Yikes, we’re saying good morning now? What happened to you?” 

“I’m not allowed to say good morning anymore?” He pouted. “How are those wounds? Did they go away?” 

The man rolled his eyes, both amused and exasperated. “ Sure , they went away, they just left a nasty mark behind-“ he lifted the bottom of his shirt up in one fluid motion, entirely unprompted. Under normal circumstances, Minhoo might have screwed up his face and said not a word for his blatant flaunting, but he knew this wasn’t a show of his assets. 

His body, while no less the object of enticement, was marred with scars—particularly on his abs. The lesions left behind during their battle had closed up, leaving behind jagged marks that stood out profoundly against his skin. 

A breathless chuckle fluttered from his lips, his grin sharp around the edges. “Nothing that can’t be covered up, but still damn annoying…” 

“You know, I don’t mind-“ he began, the glare he received leaving him staggering for words.

“We’re already taxed with maintaining these forms, you don’t need to spend extra energy where it’s not needed.” 

Minhoo’s lips pursed, but he didn’t argue. Any thoughts of continuing their conversation were swiftly put to an end the moment Hanuel strolled in from the foyer, pocketing his phone the moment he laid eyes on the two. 

“Ah- good, you’re here. I have some good news,” a pause, a hint of mirth flickering behind his eyes. “And bad news.” 

Taewon’s head lolled back, emitting a rather drawn out groan. “Tell us the bad news first, might as well get it over with.” 

“It won’t make sense without the good news.” 

“Well, then what’s the good news?” 

Hanuel crossed the room in quick strides, settling beside the two on the couch in the blink of an eye, practically beaming. “I was able to schedule an exclusive interview for you all.” 

Minhoo blinked, suddenly suspicious. “that’s… Good. Excellent. What’s the bad news?” 

His smile grew taught, “it’s for this afternoon.” 

“So? It’s the middle of the day.” Taewon shrugged. 

“It was the middle of the day. It’s currently twelve at the moment, and the interview is scheduled for 12:30…” 

Minhoo’s expression dropped, a pit growing in his stomach. “How long does it take to get there?” 

“Forty-five minutes, give or take.” 

Silence settled amidst the little trio, effectively putting out any hopes of a slow, relaxing morning. 

Taewon grimaced, sitting up with measured precision of a man quite possibly at his last straw. “Have I ever told you that I really, really hate you?” 

“Never.” 

“Well, I do. I really do.” 

“Ha… Yes, well, thank you for your honesty. You should get ready, we have to leave as soon as possible.” 

“Give us an estimate.” Minhoo pressed, already straightening up. 

Hanuel pressed a finger to his bottom lip thoughtfully, feigning deep consideration. “Five minutes.” 

“Kairo won’t even be done with his stupid hair in five minutes, skies— “ Taewon hissed, rocketing off of the couch and sprinting towards their room, leaving Minhoo to stand there rather uselessly as he was already dressed. 

Or, at least he thought he was. He wasn’t quite sure now, considering the scrutinizing look Hanuel was giving him. He found his face scrunching up reflexively, a frown tugging at his lips. 

“What?” 

“You’re wearing that?” 

His face sagged with an exhaustion that corroborated with his age. “I don’t exactly have a wealth of options.” 

“Yes, well, that’s obvious…” He muttered, his palm slipping over his mouth, index finger tapping at his cheek in rapid succession. “They may have something at the studio, if we’re lucky. You can’t go on air like that.” 

Minhoo scoffed, “you talk about it like it’s abysmal, I was working with what I had.” 

“That’s exactly the problem,” he replied, briskly. His head snapping towards the sound of approaching footsteps as both Kairo and Taewon entered the living area. Judging by the disgruntled expression on Kairo’s face, he’d say he’d been interrupted in the middle of his needless pampering. 

He didn’t know why he bothered spending hours in front of the mirror, he was already near flawless without even trying, yet he still felt compelled to to attend to every minute detail of his person. 

“Alright that’s three, where’s the quiet one—“ 

“Here.” 

Hanuel yelped, springing off the couch not unlike an agitated feline, wide eyes falling upon Raejin who had seemingly materialized out of thin air. Minhoo spied the wisp of a smile on the man’s face, holding up his hands in an effort to ease his tension—he was better than him. He was practically grinning from ear to ear. 

“We need to get you a bell…” the blonde grumbled, tugging at the cuff of his sleeve with a huff, no sooner rushing towards the door and gesturing for them to follow, his fright fully repurposed into action. 

They hurried after him, of course. They didn’t have much of a choice, practically sprinting down the halls just to reach the garage, and tumbling into the car with all the grace of a snake in felted boots, peeling off and breaking quite a few speed limits in the process.

— 

The studio was in a panic by the time they stepped through the door, and within seconds they were each snatched from the hall and thrust into wardrobe & makeup while the rest of the crew continued to stall. 

It was all a blur, really. He couldn’t even get a good look at the people’s faces with all the running about, and by the time they slowed down enough for him to at least observe one individual, he was swept off again and deposited in a deceptively intricate couch with the rest of his companions. 

They seemed in a similar state of bewilderment—well, all except Kairo who was lounging as though he were a lord in a grand palace, completely at ease with the swirl of chaos about them. Honestly, if anyone was doting upon him he’d be fine no matter what circumstances. 

Rolling his eyes, Minhoo slouched in his seat, sandwiched between Raejin and Taewon which was about as comfortable as being pressed up against a stone wall and a block of ice. He almost hoped that he was asked to swap with Raejin, because he wasn’t sure if he could stand another second of being smushed next to him. 

“—Ah- boys!“ Their agent’s voice called out to them, drawing their attention to the tall blonde who was currently doing his best to avoid bumping into the rush of people all running about in final preparation. He managed to slip past most of the chaos and stand just within earshot. 

“Hmm? What is it now, more “good news” , Hanuel?” Kairo griped, his smile a poor mask for the contempt that brewed beneath the surface. 

His sarcasm didn’t seem to phase him, however, as he only laughed in that infuriatingly fake manner. “Oh no, I think we’ve had enough good news for today, wouldn’t you say?” His response was only a series of disgruntled murmurs. “I only wanted to ask that you dodge any questions concerning Jinu—any personal questions, at least. Just tell them what you told me.” 

Minhoo frowned, “what else were we going to tell them?” 

He clicked his tongue, “well I certainly don’t know. I just ask that you try to be a bit more.. Convincing, this time around, hm?” 

He must have grimaced, for a dull shine lit in those amber eyes, one a bit too perceptive for his liking. “That’s all I have to say, good luck boys.” 

Hanuel turned tail, quickly descending down the stairs of their set, only to pause and face them once again as of some grand revelation had fallen upon him in those few seconds. “Oh.. And Minhoo, try to smile, won’t you?” 

Minhoo flared, nearly rising out of the seat and stomping after him if not for Raejin and Taewon who tugged him back down by the sleeves of his sweater, forcing him back between them with shared looks of concern. 

“That’s the last time we hire anyone based off how cute they are.” He snarled, shooting a nasty glare in Kairo’s direction. 

“Don’t look at me like that! Raejin signed off on him too, he’s half to blame!” The pink-haired man cried, bristling under his gaze. 

“I didn’t really care…” The demon mumbled, scratching his scalp like a dog clawing at its hide. 

Taewon looked between the trio awkwardly, leaning back into the couch in a rather bewildered silence, piping up after a few moments of watching them all. “I mean, at least he is good looking. I wouldn’t want to take crap from some guy with an ugly mug..” 

Minhoo blanked, shifting his body to face him fully. “That’s—that’s not the-!” 

“Alright boys! We’re going live in a few minutes!” 

Ah. Perfect timing. 

Minhoo turned away from Taewon with snap precision, folding his hands in his lap and—reluctantly—fixing a more pleasant expression to his person. If he spared a look to either side of him, he would see that his friends had gone through some similar transformation, adopting their personas and tossing aside their former selves for the sake of the interview. But he did not witness this, instead only looking at them to confirm what they already knew they were to do. 

Follow my lead. 

—

The interview was a short and sweet affair, but like most things, it came with its own set of hooks meant to snag them in particular areas. Their interviewer was a pleasant young woman and a flashy gentleman who were both eager to dig into their lives as idols, their rise to stardom, and of course discuss every detail that brought on their decision to return. 

But wrapped up in all of these things was Jinu—because they just couldn’t escape him, could they? 

Unfortunately Minhoo— Baby— couldn’t answer any of those delightful little queries about where their wonderful leader was. It was Kairo and Taewon who had to lead them through the fire, because before the media, Minhoo didn’t have so much agency as those two did. He’d almost forgotten just how limiting this persona was, how much of a pain it was to do anything when the world, their fans, even superiors saw him as… 

As this. 

He wasn’t even a child, he was the idea of a child. The idea of innocence that still struck a lethal blow. He couldn’t really get across what he wanted to say, having to place his full trust in his friends, hoping they wouldn’t slip up and say something wrong. 

Thankfully, theyd actually managed to cruise through the interview without any hiccups. It was only when the interviewers snuck in some ridiculous question about Rujinu that they all fumbled. 

Because— what? 

They couldn’t give them an answer, and no answer was just as good as confirming it. 

But really, what did it matter in the end? Some fake relationship didn’t concern them, that was between the fans and whatever the hell Jinu and Rumi had, which was something Minhoo had no interest in thinking about for more than he needed to. 

Once the cameras cut and niceties were exchanged, the group made their way down the hall towards some sort of break room, at least, the majority of them did. Minhoo broke off from them to return the sweater he’d gotten to the studio’s wardrobe, even if he had a feeling they wouldn’t really mind if he kept it. 

The studio was a greyscale of concrete and steel, the only hints of color within it the lights and apparel they provided, other than that, it was rather drab. The people were of a similar vein, strangely enough, and that caused him to disregard them as he walked down the hallways, tugging at the neck of his sweater with an irritated huff. 

Nice as this thing was, it itched like a rash. He’d be happy to give this back… 

Muttering something under his breath, he turned the corner, admittedly walking past the makeshift wardrobe and entering the back of the studio which seemed to have been recently repurposed into a storage area. That being said, there were only a few items strewn about that hinted at this change, the rest of the floor space left entirely open, all grey and dull. 

With a splash of blue. 

Minhoo blinked, then looked again. Scanning the small heaps of items pushed off to the side, and the monochrome stage laid out before him. He willed his eyes to focus, not just to look but to perceive, and once again, a wisp of blue danced before his vision, rows of black shimmering in the air before fading once again. 

Not a soul.  

He was relieved, actually. That left things more open to speculation. 

Venturing a step forward, Minhoo cautiously approached the center of the floor, patterns unfurling across his skin like a flower in bloom, flexing talons that had ripped free from soft, harmless ceratin. 

The tip of his shoe hadn’t even touched down in the middle before he was tackled to the floor by some large, hairy— 

“Derpy?” 

Minhoo’s jaw fell slack; bathed under the glow of two orange-yellow eyes, not cut with the same keenness that most felines possessed but instead a languid innocence that toed the line between naivety and just plain stupitdy. The creature’s tongue lolled out between parted jaws, cocking its head to the side as a deep purr rolled through its body, lowering itself onto its haunches and flopping on top of him as of it were the most natural thing in the world. 

He was at a loss for words, not to mention Derpy weighed about twice as much as Taewon did, so he couldn’t get words out even if he tried. Even so, his hands brushed through the spirit’s fur, all shimmering and bright with an energy that was both familar and not. He watched its pupils expand as it stared at him, slowly, graciously rolling off of him onto its back as to allow him to breathe. 

“Skies above, how are you alive?!” He cried, once he had gotten sufficent oxygen in his body. Scrambling to get up and sit beside the overgrown cat, a smile breaking through the gloom that had rested over him for a good many days. “And where’s Sussie? He has to be here if you’re…” 

Minhoo trailed off, his smile fading like an ember snuffed out in winter. Derpy cast his wide, curious eyes on him. Full of hope whilst he grappled with a new despair. 

“He.. Has to be here, if you are.” 

Derpy frog blinked at him, its tail brushing over his knees. 

He couldn’t catch a break, could he? He should’ve been happy, overjoyed that Derpy was here and alive, but instead he… 

His fingers weaved through the soft, striped fur along Derpy’s side, coaxing him to rise with a few well placed nudges, fixing him with a stern gaze he’d adopted over weeks of managing his companions. 

“Where’s Jinu.” 

—

“Where on earth is Minhoo!?” 

Valid as that question was, it was the least of their worries at the moment. 

Taewon skidded down the hallway, nearly slamming into the wall but instead just grazing it as he sprinted on. In his left hand, Kairo’s hand was clasped, and in the other he supported Raejin who he’d simply decided to carry because he did not need him disappearing on them right now. 

He should’ve expected this. I mean, Baby- Minhoo, wouldve expected this! The sound of approaching footfalls filled his ears and he yanked Kairo through a random doorway, ignoring his yelp of protest as they were met with open air. 

“We can’t be outside, Minhoo could still be in there!” 

“He can fend for himself!” 

“TAEWON!” 

He flinched, “damn, okay! We can get him, but we have to avoid those crazy-“ 

The door kicked open, slamming against the wall with as much subtlety as a brick thrown through a window. Glistening—no, practically glowing, three women stepped out in the light of day, facing them with stares not filled with the malice they were expecting, but instead curiosity, and perhaps some exasperation. 

“… Girls.” 

Taewon sucked in a sharp breath, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkwardness only borne from being cornered by the three individuals who had killed them all in a past life. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, considering. 

Raejin was the one to break the silence between them, stepping forward with a curious lilt to his airy voice. 

“You don’t have your weapons.” 

He inclined his head towards the woman with dark hair, who seemed a bit winded but pleased by the observation— Zoey . Taewon recalled her name, although most of the memories associated with her were… So-so. 

“They always have their weapons, Raejin,” Kairo snapped, earning a frown from the other man. “Why else would they be chasing us-“ 

“Because you ran away, idiots.” Mira—a perfect vision if he was being entirely honest—cut in, her hands resting on her hips, looking over the little trio with an unimpressed expression. 

Kairo threw his hands up in the air. “Can you blame us? The last time we met, you slaughtered us-“ 

“And that was for good reason!” Zoey replied, her voice sharp and clear in the little alley. 

“ I beg to differ, we were just doing our jobs.” 

“Well so we’re we!” 

“Guys,” Rumi’s voice rang out, quieting the rest of them with a single word, gathering their full attention. She glanced at the two women at her side, and Taewon couldn’t help but feel a pans of jealousy as they brightened under her eyes, under her affection. 

She faced their disjointed trio once again, both parts firm and inquisitive. “We didn’t come here to kill you, we just… Have a few questions.” 

“Questions?” Taewon echoed, brows furrowing quizzically. 

“Well, we sealed the Honmoon, rebuilt it, really. In all honesty, you shouldn’t even be here but you are, and that contradicts everything we’ve ever known.” A sigh; her voice filling the void of their hearts. “Your survival opens up a lot of possibilities, but we can’t let you walk free if you’re just going to go back to your old ways.” 

“So, I have to ask, do you still hear him?” 

The boys withered. His name didn’t even need to be uttered for them to know who she was talking about, but this time—this time they could answer without fear of punishment. 

“No..” Kairo murmured, softly. Returning the huntress’ stare hesitantly, finding himself relaxing just a bit when the tensions between them eased, their stances relaxing. 

Rumi smiled. “That’s good.. No, that’s amazing actually. That means you’re free.” 

“Not exactly.” Came Raejin’s quiet, breathy voice. A mere stir of breeze amidst them all. 

“What do you mean?” 

“We’re not “free” so much as we’re under new management.. We’ve always followed Jinu but he…” Kairo’s voice caught, some unbidden emotion welling up in his heart, threatening to spill over into his words. He stemmed it, however, stifling it before it could pour out. “ He gave himself to you, to protect you. And whether he knew it or not, we became bound to you as well.” 

Mira’s brows raised, looking between the three of them with rarely seen shock. “So… You’re saying you’re all hers now?” 

Kairo grimaced. “Pretty much.” 

“But, that’s not a bad thing is it? You’re free, you get to live your own lives away from Gwi-ma.” Zoey helpfully supplied, her face a clear reflection of the confusion that had seeped into her tone. “But… I guess it doesn’t feel that way if you’ve always been under someones control, huh?” 

“Mhm.” 

Rumi had been relatively silent since this information came to light, her features twisted into some amalgamation of joy and sorrow, but her eyes, they glowed with the same gold that so often filled their own, moved by an emotion that Taewon could not name. 

“Rumi?” 

His own voice shocked him for how tender it was, and likely her company as their eyes all fell upon him. He inched closer, looking down at the huntress with more concern than he’d like to admit he had. 

“I’m happy you all had a second chance, I just thought that…” 

Oh. 

Taewon looked away, fists clenching at his sides as he finally realized what this was really about. She hasn’t found him, yet. He might be…

“So did we.” 

The blanket of silence that settled over them was far from comforting, only drawing attention to the shared pains that they experienced, that they still waded within. But misery is not their portion, at least, not this kind. 

Eager to change topic, Kairo’s voice filled the alley, strained from the effort of keeping himself poised and fair before all these women. “We um.. We actually lost Minhoo in the studio earlier, he’ll want to hear what you had to say.” 

“We can help you look for him if you want.” Zoey offered, a sweet smile gracing her lips, and Kairo couldn’t help but mirror it in return. 

“That would be helpful, thank you.” 

“We should probably go in pairs so he doesn’t get spooked,” Mira added, pointing towards Taewon. “You, come with me.” 

Rumi nodded, “I’ll go with you then, um, Romance?” 

“It’s Kairo..” 

“Well that leaves—- WHERE DID HE GO? ” 

All eyes snapped towards the empty space where Raejin once stood, the subtle creaking of the door on his hinges telling of what had transpired while their focus was down. 

Zoey groaned, her hands flying to her face as Mira rubbed her back with barely suppressed laughter. 

“It’s okay, Zoey! You can go with Ro.. Mm, Kairo instead, alright?” Rumi offered, not quite easing the huntress’s dissapointment but at least curbing it to some degree. 

With that settled, the group trickled back into the studio in their curious pairs, setting off in various directions to search for their missing Saja Boy. Taewon, despite being beside Mira, couldn’t help but cast his eyes on Rumi’s lone figure as they departed, his stomach twisting as he saw her eyes dance with fresh, raw pain.

—

Minhoo’s hip bumped against Derpy’s side as they strolled through the studio, shades of grey giving way to darkness as they descended deeper in this seemingly endless space. His hands rested firmly in the feline’s pelt, allowing himself to be led by the creature, their footfalls echoing throughout the room. 

Not a word was exchanged between the two, not than any words could really be said. His body both wound and subdued as he trotted along with the creature, the glow from his fur chasing away the darkness as they found themselves fully enveloped in it. 

Theyd entered some space that wasn’t the studio. From a technical standpoint, theyd left the studio and entered the full breadth of the storage space, as now, Derpy maneuvered with more intention, weaving with a flexibility only attributed to cats as they brushed past boxes, boom mics, and props aplenty. 

Minhoo rested his chin between the slot where his shoulder blades connected to his spine; a low, rambiling purr slipped past the beast, his tail brushing against his calf as they continued on. 

He wasn’t certain if they would ever break through this darkness. It seemed more like an endless night theyd found themselves in, all memory of the studio fading from his mind the longer they traversed this winding path. 

When they finally broke free of all the shadowed clutter, they entered another open space. Light cutting through the darkness like a feather on a breeze, the scent of mildew and mold hitting his nose instantly. 

This place was abandoned, purposefully walled off with items… But Derpy had led him through it. 

The ceiling had caved in—splintered wood and concrete scattered across the ground, a gaping hole left to allow the full force of the sun to shine through, a spotlight illuminating the destruction. 

“Derpy, why…” His voice caught in his throat, eyes suddenly trained on a small, dark thing roosting just on the edge of a metal rod amidst the hole. It was a magpie, it’s black feather’s touched with hints of blue and purple, shimmering beneath the light like some gemstone. One yellow eye peered down at him, then another… Then… 

“Sussie.” He breathed, watching the magpie soar down from the ruin, chirping pleasantly as it sailed over his head, pirouetting through the sky to pass over the rubble, beckoning him to follow. 

Minhoo, quite beyond all sense of reason, ran after the spirit. Tripping over quite a good many stones and rotten pieces of wood, but running all the same, pupils expanding to steal any residue of light he could as he was plunged once again into darkness, the spotlight at his back, and the magpie slipping through some crevice he couldn’t fit through. 

“Sussie!” 

It was a wall—no, a door? There was a window overhead, a little slot, that’s how he got through. Minhoo jiggled the handle in vain, kicking the door with a frustrated groan, whipping around to find Derpy right behind him, canines polished till the shone like fine porcelain. 

“Teleport me.” He demanded, leaving no room for argument. Coming around to stand behind the tiger and latching hold of him as a deep, mystifying pool yawned beneath its paws, grasping at the two of them and pulling them into its shimmering waters. 

The pool deposited them on the other side of the door, but Minhoo did not wait for them to rise slowly. No, he clambered over Derpy, hooking his talons into the ground, upsetting concrete as he clawed his way out, breaking off into a sprint once again. 

He didn’t know why he was so hellbent on following Sussie. He thought he’d knew himself, he thought he didn’t care. 

He didn’t care that Jinu was gone. 

He didn’t care that he chose a hunter over them. 

He didn’t care, but he ran anyway. 

He chased, he sought after the last vestiges of his memory like a man starved, hungry for whatever scraps he could find, hoping that a mere magpie—a spirit, could lead him to something more than just a memory. 

He was content to live on his illusion until something more tangible was presented. 

Sussie soared past him, wings spread wide, leaving a trail of stars in his wake. But when he dipped, when he pivoted from his path, that was when Minhoo stumbled, tripping over something like a chord or wire and hit the ground, pain exploding along his chin, his nose, his palms flushed with heat as darkness pooled out of them. 

He cursed under his breath, wiping his hands on his pants carelessly, ignoring how much they burned as he did so. His eyes were wide, wild, looking about for the little bird but not finding him. 

He felt the frustration build within him, cursing himself for falling, for loosing him again , but a bored little chirp stilled these thoughts, drawing him fourth once again. 

He did not have to run, even as he clambered forward, stumbling in the darkness. Sussie was roosted on something— someone. Void swallowed up gold, pupils blown wide as he staggered blindly towards it. Towards him. 

He could see the cut of his silhouette, his frame illuminated by a light that did not exist, bathing him in purple & white. His hair seemed cut against the night around them, darker than death itself, yet he could not see his eyes. Only that powerful frame, the one that had led them on so many disastrous schemes, the one that had laid beside them all in topped heaps when they still slept beneath Gwi-Mwa’s pyre. 

The one that had protected him so often, shielded him from his own darkness. 

From his own inescapable night. 

He reached out, blindly, selfishly—

“Jinu?” 

He recoiled. 

The light, that light it was- 

“R-Rumi…” 

No. 

No. 

No. 

Minhoo’s hand twitched, falling lax against his side. Blood suddenly binding, a warmth that snuffed out the flame of his being, the whisper of his soul, and soaking it through. 

He shriveled, stumbling backwards as he watched that light consume Jinu, bathe him in its entirety, its purity, its love. And he reciprocated, a glow all of his own shooting down his arms, down his back. Jagged patterns pouring out holy light. 

He watched him envelope her, he watched him crumple in her arms like she was the savior he’d been waiting for, the one he’d been praying for. 

All those thoughtless apologies, his heart bleeding out before her and leaving no room for the night between them. They were raw, they were wounded and he—

Shouldn’t be here. 

Minhoo’s talons clicked, and he let himself be swallowed up by darkness.