Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

TRIGGER WARNING: Light mention of self-harm scars. 

It's midnight. Bobby left the girls at their dorm a while ago, congratulating them on their performance and telling them to call if they needed anything, though they told him they didn't. Zoey and Mira already went to bed, but not before promising that the three of them would have a longer discussion tomorrow when they'll be more energized. Rumi tries to sleep too, but all she does is toss and turn for an hour, adrenaline still pumping through her veins. She thinks maybe some fresh air will help calm her, so she puts on her fluffy slippers and slips out to the balcony. 

 Like a broken record, the events from a few hours ago keep replaying in her mind—or rather, one person in particular. That look on his face when he gave his soul to her, the thought alone is enough to make her heart swell. You gave me my soul back, now I give it to you. She stares at her hand, a blue glow forming with her sword. It's different than she's used to. Longer, heavier, curved. There's even a new hum to it, like his soul is trying to reach her, speak to her. Or at least she wants to believe so. The sword dissipates as she leans on the railing. 

The city is still as lively as ever, a sea of lights below. There's the faint glint of a newly formed hon-moon, a physical representation of their victory against Gwi-ma—and a constant reminder of Jinu's sacrifice. She grits her teeth. She can barely hold in the hot tears stinging her eyes as she mutters one last “thank you” and “I'm so, so sorry I couldn't save you” to him, the words cracking in her throat.

The wind blows around her, like it's trying to comfort her, but that's all it is. Trying. Trying and failing. If anything, it makes everything worse. Her cheeks are wet as salty water drips down her cheeks, to the creases of her lips, to her chin, only to then fall pathetically on the floor. She squeezes her eyes and tilts her head up, but they don't stop. They can't.

When she opens her eyes again, the stars twinkle sweetly like a mockery of her pain. Just then, a shooting star flashes through the sky, its light reflecting in Rumi's eyes. There's only one wish she wants. She wants to see Jinu again. Just one last time is all she asks for. Please.

Her ears perk from a rustle behind her, and she quickly wipes her tears, materializing her sword in her hand.

“Who's there?” She demands.

There's a low rumble. A familiar one.

Black and blue fur peaks out from the corner with big saucer eyes that hold not a single thought behind them. A three-eyed, hatted bird is perched on the creature's head, letting out a small caw. Her sword dissipates into thin air as she runs to hug the creatures. 

“Oh, it’s just you two.” She crouches to scratch Derpy's chin and his eyes dilate as he leans into it. His tail flicks, and there's a clank! He turns around. A fallen flower pot. He scoots backwards to rest the pot right-side-up, every attempt a failure. Sussie flies off to the perch and side-eyes him.

Rumi chuckles. “What are you two doing here?” She asks, helping lift the flower pot back up. Derpy stares at her while Sussie crows. “...Right.” 

The wind begins to pick up, and goosebumps prick Rumi's skin. She sighs and stands. “Do you guys…wanna come in?” 

Derpy slowly blinks, one eye at a time. 

“Wow, I think that's the first time I've seen you blink,” Rumi laughs. The tiger tilts his head to the side, staring at her until she stops a half-second out of step. The magpie squawks with a deeply unamused tone. She clears her throat and opens the glass sliding door, her face tinged red as they pass by. 

It’s only when she flops onto her bed that she notices the weight of her own body, her muscles aching and twitching trying to get up with no success. She can manage to curl her fingers into weak fists, but that's it. 

She wants so desperately to melt into her bed crying, but a corner of her heart tells her not to. As irrational as she knows it is, there's a fear inside her that believes if she cries, her memories of Jinu will slip away with the tears. 

Derpy leaps onto the bed while Sussie rests on the bed's headstand. Mustering all her strength left, Rumi wraps her arms around the blue tiger, pressing her face into his soft fur as it tickles her skin ever so gently. It's only then when her mind is able to drift, lucidity sinking from her body. She has no dream that night. 

Golden rays filter into her room as her eyes flutter awake, only to stumble off the bed from a pair of giant, red-orange eyes and a toothy smile greeting her. Derpy stares at her fallen self and tries to sit her up-right, but he can't find a grip to lift her. It ends up more like he's petting Rumi's arm rather than helping her up. She can't complain though. The pads on his feet are cushiony, like that of a cat rather than a tiger. Is this how cats feel like when being pet? It's…it's honestly quite nice. She wishes she could stay there forever, but after the fifth attempt or so, Rumi sits up, her back propped against the side of her bed.

She pats his head. “Thank you Derpy. And good morning to you both.” Sussie caws from atop Derpy's head.

A knock on her door catches her attention. She knows the girls’ knocks by heart. It's Mira.

“Zoey’s making breakfast. Omelets. You ready to eat?” She says.

“Be there in a minute!” Rumi answers back, jumping up. She turns back to the two and whispers, “You two stay here okay? No teleporting around the dorm please.”

The tiger stares back at her and she's not sure if he understands, the magpie caws and Rumi takes it as a sign that at least one of them does.

She zips to her door, and when she opens it, Mira is still there standing.

“I, uh, bathroom.” Rumi hesitantly points to the bathroom.

“Right. Yeah.” Mira makes way for Rumi to scoot past her. Despite the three of them making up, some words are hard to forget.

As Rumi reaches for the doorknob of the bathroom, Miras' voice stops her. “Listen, Rumi, I know I'm not the sweetest person, but…I want you to know, I still care about you. We care about you.”

Rumi turns her gaze around to face her. There's a subtle hint of sorrow etched into Mira's face that most would miss, though not Rumi. 

“Yeah.” She smiles. “Me too.”

Mira returns the smile and pats Rumi's shoulder as she passes by, leaving a lingering sensation of warmth where it was.

Rumi quickly brushes her teeth and washes her face. As she pats it dry, she takes a closer inspection of the patterns tattooed on her skin. She's never seen the ones on her face before. They never grew there, well, not until… hmm.

She touches them, first the ones on her face then the ones on her arms. They're lighter than she's used to. Not only in color, but they feel lighter too. Her eyes soften. Would Jinu have felt the same?

The savory smell of eggs wafts in the air as she leaves the bathroom. Her nose carries her to the kitchen where the two are chatting, Mira with a partially eaten omelet and Zoey flipping another by the stove, her own omelet beside her.

“Morning guys,” Rumi waves.

Mira signals back a greeting while munching on another bite. 

“Rumi! You're here already?” Zoey yips, covering Rumi's view of the sizzling pan. “Wait, don't look yet. I'm not done!”

Rumi chuckles. She takes a seat next to Mira, raising a brow to her.

“Hey, don't look at me. She won't tell me anything either.” Mira leans in. “My guess is she messed up your omelet and is trying to hide the evidence.”

“That's not true!” Zoey exaggeratedly points her spatula to Mira as if she's beckoning her to a duel. “Don't try to ruin my omelet-making reputation with lies.” 

“Well then you might wanna focus on the omelet before it starts burning,” she says back, and Zoey yelps before darting her eyes back to the stove.

When it's done, she lays it next to a small bed of rice on a plate and scribbles something on it with ketchup. As she slides it over to Rumi with a cover over it, her hands are fidgeting the way they always do when she's nervous. She plops down next to her and breathes in, eyes intense. “Okay you can open it now.”

Rumi lifts the lid to reveal a steaming omelet with the words “I'm sorry” and a frowny face with a single tear drawn in glistening red. She turns back to Zoey who's now inches away from her face, bawling her eyes out sprinkler-style.

 “I'm so, so, so sorry, Rumi! We were so mean to you, and I—I—” Zoey sobs even louder, squeezing her tight like a rubber chicken.

Mira starts tearing up too and joins the hug. “Me too! We know you would never hurt anyone, but I still pulled out my gok-do on you.”

“And my shin-kal!” Zoey wails.

“No, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have lied to you guys, especially you Mira. You knew I was hiding something, and I blew up on you," Rumi apologized. “I had a chance to tell you two that night before our performance and I—”

“Rumi, it's okay. If anything, I don't blame you for what you did. I mean, we kinda proved you right,” Zoey reassured, snot dripping down her nose. She places a hand on hers. “What's done is done. What matters now is that we're together.”

“Right.” Mira takes Rumi's other hand. “We won't push you to tell us right now, just…tell us when you're ready. We'll be ready to listen this time.” 

Rumi nods, lip quivering between smiles and sobs. 

The three of them cry into each other's arms till their eyes are all swollen shut and red, the pools of their tears large enough to call a mini flood. Their omelets went cold a long time ago, but they pop them in the microwave for a minute and scarf them down before they can cool again.

Rumi hums while washing her dish, the other two patting their bellies and burping.

Zoey sighs, laying her head on the table. “Crying always makes me sooo hungry. Anyone want seconds?” She gasps, jumping up. “Oh! Actually, how ‘bout some tteok-bokki!”

“I like the way you think.” Mira fist-bumps Zoey. “Rumi?”

She sets the cleaned plate in the dishwasher. “A bit won't hurt. Y'know, since we're on break.”

“Yay!” Zoey giggles, skipping to her snack cabinet. “Okay. I have regular, cheese, jjajang, rosé…” She lists them as she pulls out almost a dozen more, stacking them on the table till they create a wall. “Ta da! So, what are you guys feeling?”

Rumi says “rosé” the same time Mira says “the spiciest,” and Zoey passes them each their respective container, then shoves the others back inside while grabbing a cheese for herself.

As the girls set up the bowls, a man holding two boxes that cover his face walks in from the elevator. His head peeks out from the side. “Hey girls!”

“Hi Bobby!” The three say in unison, peeping into the hallway in greeting. Rumi helps carry a box as he enters the kitchen.

“Just to be safe, you are the real Bobby, right?” Zoey interrogates, staring wide-eyed into his soul.

He shrinks in. “Yes? Why? Is something wrong? I told you to call me if you needed to. Are you girls alright?”

The three of them share a look, and just as he starts to panic, Rumi nudges his shoulder. “Don't worry about it! Everything is fine. Promise.”

He lets out a long sigh. “Oh thank god.”

“What's in the boxes though?” Mira asks as they walk to the kitchen.

He grins, setting it on the table while Rumi does the same. The three open the cardboard flaps of one, revealing a chalk-ton of letters with the words “To: HUNTR/X” on every one. “I know you guys are on break, but I thought you'd like a way to still feel connected with fans, so I picked up some fanmail! Don't worry, everything in here has been personally inspected by me and the team for safety.”

“Aw! Thank you Bobby. You're the sweetest!” Zoey hugs him.

“Of course! Only the best for my girls,” he says, patting her back.

Rumi asks, “By the way, did you ever reschedule that trip? Y'know, the ‘fanciest, most expensive resort in Korea’?”

Bobby pulls out his phone. “Yup! Wanna go or?”

“Nah, keep it. We're gonna stay home. And maybe go to the bathhouse sometime.” Rumi suggests, and the two light up.

“Well, don't mind if I do.” He snaps open a pair of sunglasses from his back pocket and spins toward the door with a wave. “Bye girls! If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Bye Bobby! Have fun!” They call out, waving back.

They add various toppings onto each of their piping hot bowls, then bring everything to the living room.

“Let's watch something while we open stuff!” Zoey squeals, pulling out a remote controller. “How about ‘Business Proposal’?”

“We've watched that like ten times by now,” Mira states.

The remote falters in Zoey’s hand. “Oh, okay. Then, um, what do you want?”

Mira shifts toward her. “No, Zoey. I'm fine with watching it. I was just saying my thoughts out loud. Sorry.”

“No, I'm sorry for assuming. I guess I'm just…still a little shaken up from yesterday.”

Before they turn this into an apology battle, Rumi interrupts. “No more saying sorry!”

The two blink twice, then Zoey speaks up. “But what about when we do something bad? Like really, really, really, really—”

“I think she gets it.”

“Right. Sorry.” 

Rumi stares a hole through Zoey, eyes ablaze.

She opens her mouth to apologize again, but Mira stops her, hands smooshing her cheeks so she can't speak. “No. More. Sorrys.” Zoey nods slowly and Mira releases her face.

Rumi clears her throat. “Of course we say sorry when we really need to, but otherwise, no. These 'sorry's aren't real, they're just the shame telling us we did something wrong when we didn't. Don't listen to it.”

The two nod, a look of determination on each of their faces. 

They all high-five, but just as Zoey's about to hit start, from the corner of Rumi's eye, a tuft of blue fur flicks by. She blinks. Oh no.

She jumps up. “Uh guys?”

“Yeah? You good, Rumi?”

“Mhm. But I, uh, I have to tell you guys something.” Rumi inches away. “Promise not to freak out?”

Mira squints her eyes. “Depends. What is it?”

“Nothing crazy! I swear.” She shakes her head. “Just. Close your eyes for a minute.”

Zoey and Mira glance at each other, then cover their faces. Rumi coaxes Derpy over, but he shuffles over slowly, that same empty look in his eyes as he does.

Rumi groans, whisper-yelling, “Can't you just teleport?”

The tiger stops, then stares.

She sighs. “Nevermind. Just hurry up.”

Eventually, Derpy plops beside her and she tells them to open their eyes.

Mira sits there, slack-jawed, while Zoey gasps, eyes sparkling. “It's you!”

“Wait, you know them too?” Rumi asks as she cocks her head.

Zoey's face pinches, eyes narrowed. She taps her chin. “Well, I haven't seen the…bird?” Sussie blinks all her six eyes. “That is a bird, right?”

“As far as I'm aware,” Rumi answers.

“And is…is it wearing a hat?” Mira points out. Sussie coos.

Rumi chuckles. “Yeah, well, believe it or not, it used to be the tiger's.” The second those words slip from her mouth, her heart squeezes again. Her hands curl into fists that she has to manually relax. 

She shakes her head. “But, Zoey, how do you know him?”

“Well,” Zoey ponders, “He was actually the one to bring me to Healer Han! Okay, so, while we were looking for you after you ran out, that tiger appeared. I was like, 'GASP! Cute, blue tiger! Also, hello? Obvious guardian.' So, of course I followed it into that alley and saw Healer Han outside his store. He handed me a pamphlet, then said he specialized in healing vocal cords. Honestly, it was kinda like fate! And, well, you know the rest with the Saja Boys and all.” Mira cringed at the mention.

“Ugh, don't remind me. I'm so glad that's all over!” Mira leans back into the sofa. “The fans going feral over shipping with, not one, but two demons? I'm gagging just at the thought. Eugh.”

Zoey pouts. “Yeah. What a waste of good looks.”

“You can say that again.” Mira laughs, then furrows her brows. “I bet they didn't feel anything after sucking all those souls.”

“OMG. So evil! Did you see Korea's missing persons list yet? It grew by like ten-times!” Zoey spread her arms as wise as she possibly could, puffing her cheeks out too. “I wouldn't be surprised if they didn’t.”

Rumi presses her lips into a thin line, Jinu's words ringing in her head. That's all demons do. Feel. Feel our shame. She gulps. “What if they're not all like that?”

Zoey and Mira look at each other, then Rumi.

Zoey perks up. “I mean, you're not like that. And I guess, Jinu (to some extent).” 

“And the others?” Rumi asks. “We don't know their stories. What if they were also just being controlled by Gwi-ma, like Jinu? We all know how Gwi-ma works. Manipulating our deepest insecurities. Using them against us to get what he wants.”

“That doesn't change what they did. They murdered innocent people.” Mira's tone is harsh but true. “But even if it did, they're gone. There's nothing we can do now.”

Rumi sighs. “I guess.” She rubs Derpy's snout, his nose soothingly cool as he breathes out.

Zoey tightens her lips into a small, hesitant smile and pulls out three letters from the box. She hands one each to the others. “How about we all open some mail. Get our minds off demons for a bit. It is our break after all. We defeated Gwi-ma, saved the world—not to mention, it's from our fans~”

Mira and Rumi accept their letters, both plastering on a weak smile too.

“Can't argue with that,” Mira says.

Rumi nods back. “Agreed.” She picks up her tteok-bokki bowl and chopsticks in the same hand. “Happy fans…”

Mira and Zoey join in. “Happy hon-moon!”

They chow down their rice cakes while tearing open letter by letter, playing the k-drama in the background. Between the heartfelt letters, emotional on-screen scenes, and the spiciness, tears form in the corners of their eyes. 

“Look at this drawing ‘Ahyeong’ did!” Rumi shows them a crayon drawing of the three of them hand-in-hand, wearing their “Golden” comeback stage outfits.  

The other two “Aw!” together.

“We gotta hang it up in our livestream room,” Zoey exclaims. Rumi nods, setting it aside to open another.

“One of our US PRÆYs¹ sent us matching bracelets.” Mira passed a beaded turquoise one and lilac one to Zoey and Rumi.

“It even has our initials!” Zoey squeals.

Rumi clasps it onto her wrists. “Yeah, and the gold is a nice touch.”

“Oh, check this out!” Zoey holds out three clay charms of their animal personas². She brings the purple wolf charm close to herself. “Aw Rumi, your Rycami is so cool!”

“Yeah, and Mira, your Vulra is sick.” Rumi says, picking up the pink fox.

“Zoey's Zozo is cute too,” Mira says, taking the blue-green striped polecat.

They all share a look and nod, clipping the mini animals onto their bracelets.

After finishing off their food and opening roughly a quarter of the mail, they finally settle down. Torn envelopes stack into a pile on the coffee table, which Derpy eyes blankly while Sussie naps on his head. They quickly clean up the mess and sit back on the couch, forming a circle.

"I think I'm ready to tell you guys now. About how I got these patterns." The two face Rumi, eyes intense and tender. Derpy wraps his tail around her ankle too, almost making her laugh.

Rumi takes a deep breath in, then out. "I was born with these marks. My father...well, I don't know who he is. The only thing I know—the only thing Celine ever told me about him—was that he was a demon. Every time I ask her more, she shuts me down. ‘Never speak about him.’ So, I did exactly that. I hid myself and my demon, but that only made it worse—" Rumi chokes up, memories flooding in of every opportunity she lost to the isolation.

Zoey and Mira hold her hands, gripping on tightly yet gently, giving her the reassurance to continue. “The marks kept spreading and nothing could stop it.” Rumi lifts her sleeves up all the way to her shoulders, revealing the scratched bumps of old scars. True scars. Scars from trying to rip the markings off her skin. Zoey and Mira gasp softly, hands trembling as they cover their mouths. 

“But I want to get past this. And in order to do that, I…” Rumi covers them again. “I need to talk to Celine. We all do. We deserve answers.”

GLOSSARY:

¹PRÆY— My take on their fandom name as a play on the words prey/pray because of their hunter and shaman sides. (Their weapons are commonly used for rituals.) From the fans' perspective, the "pray" aspect comes from their motif of the norigae representing how they are the idols' good luck charm and support.

(Side Note: yes, I'm aware Æ is pronounced like the "a" in "apple" but no, I don't care. Say it like you're British if you care sm or smth idk)

²Animal Personas— For the uninitiated, in kpop culture, idols typically have an animal that corresponds to them. For HUNTR/X, I chose to have all predator animals to keep up the theme.

• Ryacami— "R"umi + (timber) wolf, aka canis l"yca"on + Ru"mi"

(FUN FACT: The same character is used for the letter "R" and "L" in korean hangul, i.e. "ㄹ")

• Vulra— fox, aka "Vul"pen vulpen + Mi"ra"
• Zozo— "Zo"ey + "zo"rilla (a skunk-looking ahh cat)

MORE FUN FACTS (About the Writing Process and Stuff):

• The VA for Jinu is Ahn Hyo-Seop, who also plays the leading male in "Business Proposal," so of course I had to add it as an Easter egg.
• I based the girls' tteok-bokki flavor of choice on their ramyeon flavors: Rumi had "superstar" so I gave her "Rosé," Mira had "spice queen" so I gave her "the spiciest," and Zoey had "hamburger" so I gave her "cheese."
• My headcanon of Rumi having SH scars comes from the lyrics to the song, "This is what it sounds like," which to me heavily parallel her demon markings—as her shame grows, so do her markings, like how depression can lead to self harm. There's also a shame survivors can carry towards their scars, which the song addresses (though idk how intentional it was).

Chapter Text

TRIGGER WARNING: Panic attack.

After two decades, it's muscle memory by now.

Celine wakes up in her hut, greeted solely by silence. Today, it takes longer than usual to get up. She tells herself it's because she's getting older, but she knows there's another reason that she won't admit. 

She brews herself a strong cup of coffee, though after just a single sip, she winces. It's still as bitter as the first time she tried it, but she needs it to survive the day. Not just the caffeine, but the taste of the memory it holds. Of her own demon hunter days, with Miyeong and Yoojin as the “SUNLIGHT SISTERS”.

She and Yoojin didn't drink much coffee, but Miyeong did. Wherever they'd visit a coffee shop in between concerts, Miyeong would get straight black coffee, while the two got iced americanos. Occasionally, Celine would steal a sip of Miyeong's, but the taste always made her face pucker. At first, she never knew why Miyeong would ever voluntarily drink such a disgusting thing, but now she did.

The bitter liquid coats her throat as she chugs the rest down, her body buzzing from the caffeine infiltrating her system. It suppresses the ache in her joints and bones, hopefully for as long as she's awake, but with every passing day, its potency cuts shorter. It won't be long before she needs two to fully stay awake. She sighs deeply, breath hinted with coffee.

Outside, stray pine needles scatter across the flowerbed of white chrysanthemums and the grass. Celine meticulously sweeps them away before grabbing a pair of gloves and a sickle. She cuts off a full bouquet of chrysanthemums. They're fragrant, sweet and fresh, the scent filling her nose as she treks up a beaten stone path. The basket around her arm rocks with her, incense and apples following the rhythmic movements back and forth.

Halfway up, Celine looks behind her, down the mountain to the city. The hon-moon is back—evident by the distinct lack of demon attacks—but it's different. Rather than gold, it's an array of shimmering colors strung together. Whatever the girls did last night, it worked. The three of them managed to set up the shield again. Gwi-ma, and all his other demon minions, are gone for now. Then, that must mean Rumi's back to normal. Rumi. 

“She must hate me now,” Celine mutters. How could she not? 

She was supposed to be strong for her. Protect her. Love her. And she couldn't even do that. But at least now, she can't hurt her anymore. Whatever she does, wherever she goes, Celine can only hope she'll have her friends by her side if not her.

The rest of the hike passes by in minutes with all the "what if"s that fill Celine's mind— “what if”s she doesn't deserve. She's dragged out of thoughts as she inches closer to the top, the sound of groans and laughter growing louder.

“Ugh, please tell me we're never doing that again. That was worse than by plane,” Zoey covers her mouth with her hand, the other on her stomach.

Mira helps her to a nearby boulder. “Really? You'd rather get chased by paparazzi at the airport than get a little nauseous teleporting. It's less energy, less money, less time, and less of a pain.”

“Just a little nauseous?” She whines, hurking. “I think I'm gonna throw up!” She runs to the grass, doubling over as ungodly noises escape her mouth. 

Rumi pats her back. “Alright, alright! Never again after this, I promise. Either way, it's not like we can always teleport anyways, it's suspicious—not to mention the company would never let us. Y'know, the brand deals?” The two nod in understanding. 

“But honestly, I think we can—” Rumi's eyes pass over to Celine. She's staring back at her from a few feet.

“Rumi?” The basket in her hand crashes to the ground, along with the flowers, as she runs to the girl. “Oh Rumi, you're here! And Zoey and Mira too. You, you—” She lets go and her stomach drops. “Rumi, your markings, they're still there. Why are they still there?”

She laughs. Her eyes must be playing a trick on her, they have to be. She tries to rub them away, but they stick to her skin like glue. “No, no, Rumi. This can't be.” Rumi pulls her arm away and Celine stumbles back. “I thought they'd be gone…”

Rumi grits her teeth. When she unclenches her jaw to speak, her voice is hard. “Celine, look at me.”

She doesn't respond, her eyes darting across the sky and trees. Anywhere but her.

Rumi's legs wobble, but Mira and Zoey hold her hands, providing the support she needs to continue. “Celine, I need you to look at me. Please.”

Celine flinches, her eyes snapping shut. “Rumi, I can't.”

“Yes, you can.” Rumi lets go of Mira and Zoey to march towards her. “I know you can.”

Even with her eyes shut, the shadow on her skin tells Celine Rumi is standing right in front of her, but she still won't look. She steps back.

Her foot slips on the mossy stone behind her, but before she can fall, Rumi catches her, and her eyes flicker open. She has her mother’s face. And Celine doesn't dare look away again.

“Do you three want something to drink?” Celine sets a kettle on the stove. “Tea?”

“Sure,” Rumi says, and the other two nod along.

No one speaks as the kettle hisses louder and louder. Celine switches the fire off just before it boils and pours in two spoonfuls of dried chrysanthemums. She takes out four teacups and raises the kettle to each, one by one. The poured liquid is clear, resembling water if not for the slight floral scent it steams into the air. They all take a sip.

“So what brings you here?” Celine brings the cup down from her lips. “I can't imagine it was just for some tea.”

Rumi's eyes meet Celine's again, glinting. “I want you to tell me the truth. About my dad. Who exactly was he?”

“Rumi, I—”

“We're past this, Celine,” she says, “I'm old enough to handle it.”

Her hands shiver despite the warmth from the hot cup. “That's not the issue.”

“Then what is it?” Rumi leans closer. “I promise I don't blame you for not telling me before, but I just…I need to know.”

“No, you don't understand.” Celine's entire body begins to shake uncontrollably. “I shouldn't have—it's—I—” Her throat clogs with both too much and and not enough. She needs to breathe, but why can’t she? It hurts. It's clawing her inside out. Her vision hazes. The gasps come out hoarser and frenzied. Breath. Breath!

Mira is the first to react, grabbing her hand. “Celine! Can you hear me?” 

Despite the ringing in her ears, her voice comes through clear, firm. She nods weakly.

“Focus on my voice, okay? We're here for you.” 

She nods again.

“Good. Can you breathe through your nose for me?”

She follows, sucking in a deep, painful breath.

“And exhale.”

She follows. Her chest falls.

“Again.”

In. Out.

“Now can you tell me your name?”

“...Ce…line…” She manages to push out, although raspy.

“And our names?”

“...Mira…Rumi…Zoey…” 

“Right. What do you smell?”

She breathes in, the tea's scent tickling her nose. “...Chrysanthemums.”

“Okay, and what do you hear?”

She tunes in to the noises in her ears, searching past the ringing. It's about the time when sparrows start singing, their melody accompanied by rustling branches. “...Birds…chirping. Outside. Trees.”

“What can you feel?”

The tingle in her hands dampens enough to notice the touch of fingertips. “Your hand…And…the table.”

“And name what you see in groups of four, then three, then two, then one.”

“Four cups...three girls, two windows, and one kettle.” Her senses slowly kickstart back to normal, vision unblurring. She leans her head on the chair’s backrest. “Thank you, Mira.”

Mira gives a faint smile in return.

“Celine, are you alright?” Zoey asks.

“Yes, I think so.” Her answer is laced with uncertainty, but it's the best she can manage as is. “You said you wanted to know the truth? Alright. I'll tell.”

Rumi shakes her head. “Don't push yourself. We can stay till you're ready to tell us.”

With the state she's in now, Celine knows Rumi's right, so she nods. “Okay. Then how about I tell you tomorrow? Stay for the day. It’s been a while since you’ve last been in Jeju anyways.”

The girls look amongst themselves, then to Celine with soft eyes. “Of course.”

For the rest of the morning, the girls help Celine tend to Miyeong’s grave.

She sets the apples in the ceramic bowl at the foot of the grave, then the flowers in a matching vase. Rumi hands her the incense sticks while Zoey passes a lighter. When its smoke trails into the sticky air around, the four share a moment of silence.

Celine breaks the quiet. “Go explore the village without me for now. I’ll meet you down there.”

“You’re not going?” Rumi asks, the other two by the trail already.

She shakes her head. “I have to do something here. Don’t worry, it won’t take too long.”

Rumi’s reluctant, but Celine’s insistence manages to shoo them away.

Zoey skips down the steps. “Y’know, the couch is nice, but it’s good to be back here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Mira replies, nodding. “Reminds me of when we first met.”

The three of them burst out laughing.

Rumi wipes a tear from her eye. “I was so awkward with you guys.”

“Awkward? I thought you two hated me!” Zoey exclaims, baffled. “Like when I met Mira for the first time, you know what she said to me?” She switches her face to an angry frown. “Can you move?”

“Hey, I don’t remember being that mean!” Mira covers her face, ears red. “I was just…frustrated. I thought I was here on vacation with my family for my birthday, but turns out, it was all an elaborate plan to set up a blind date!” Groans escape her mouth as she pulls her face with her hands. “So I ran off, and accidentally got lost. My phone died and you just happened to be standing in front of the only map around.”

“For real? That literally sounds like the plot to a k-drama!” Zoey sighs. “Then I had you SO wrong.”

“It’s alright. I get that a lot,” Mira laughs. “It’s crazy to think we all became friends at the same time though.”

Rumi turns. “You mean you guys weren’t already friends when you came to the temple together?” 

They shake their heads.

Mira asks, "You mean you didn't realize how tense everything was between us?"

"I guess I had other things on my mind," Rumi shrugs. She doesn't need to explain the "other things" for the two to know what she meant.

"Right," Mira begins, “Well after that map fiasco, I stayed out the rest of the day, but I didn’t have much cash on hand, just my card. I didn’t want my parents to know where I was yet, so I walked for hours. I was starving by dinner, and Zoey’s grandma’s restaurant was nearby and it smelled so unbelievably amazing.”

“Family recipe,” Zoey interjects. 

“And she was nice enough to let me eat for free. I tried to pay the next day, but she just told me to hang out with her granddaughter who happened to be Zoey, and we went to the temple where you were.”

“Speaking of, since we’re here, we should go see my grandparents!” Zoey says, grabbing them both and running down the mountain.

“Zoey, slow down!” The two scream, stumbling behind her.

They swerve around the alleys to a small store in a corner.

“Oe-Halmeoni¹! It’s Sujin!” Zoey calls, and an old lady peeks out from behind the kitchen.

“Sujin-ah²? What are you doing here?” Her grandma hugs her, a ladle in hand. “And these are your friends?”

“Yup! This is Mira and Rumi,” she introduces, and the two bow while saying hello.

Her grandma ushers them in. “It’s almost lunch, no? Sit, sit. I get you food.” 

They take a seat at a small table, but it’s not long before every inch of it is covered in small bowls of various side dishes and three heaping bowls of rice. They stuff themselves full until every last grain and piece is wiped clean.

“Very good. Eat well,” Zoey’s grandma says, cleaning up the dishes, “You want more? Desert? I go cut some pears.”

When she leaves, the three start chatting, though slightly delirious from the food. 

“Your grandma is literally the sweetest. I wish I had your grandma.” Mira sighs, resting her head on the table.

Rumi does the same, “I wish I had a grandma.” And Mira nods along.

Zoey’s not sure whether to laugh or cry at that, so she pats their backs instead. “You’re welcome to drop by and say hi any time. Though I have to mention, you won’t be able to leave without at least a thousand snacks.”

“You make that sound like that’s a bad thing,” Mira mumbles.

Zoey’s grandma comes back with a plate of asian pears sliced into wedges, the flesh a soft cream color compared to its crunchy texture. As they munch on the fruit, Rumi’s phone rings.

“Hello?” Rumi answers, mouth full. She wipes her face. “We’re at Zoey’s grandma’s restaurant right now. You’re at the beach? No, we’re finishing up. Okay, we’ll meet you there.”

They shovel the rest down their gullets, disguise themselves with whatever Zoey’s grandma has in the back, and say bye before they’re ambushed with more food.

Despite the beach being crowded, the girls manage to spot Celine with relative ease.

“Celine!” Rumi calls out.

She turns from the waves. “Hello—Zoey, is that a cane?”

“Yup!” She waves it in the air, nearly hitting someone. “Oops, sorry!” She bows, then skedaddles to Celine. “It’s my grandpa’s. He doesn’t need it…I think. Pretty sure he got another already.”

“...Alright, then. Just make sure to return it.” She says, turning back to the water. “It’s nice today, isn’t it?”

They nod.

Cool water splashes onto their feet, carrying sand between their soles and sandals as they sink in ever so slightly. The noise around them is accompaniment enough without any of them speaking, so they don’t.

“Hyung³, why are they just standing there?” A kid asks.

“Stop it, Hajoon! Umma⁴ said it’s not nice to point. Leave the ajummas⁵ alone,” his brother scolds.

Rumi gasps, “Ajumma? Who are you—”

"Calm down!" Mira and Zoey stop her with a hand over her mouth. “Don’t blow your cover, Rumi.”

A few people stare at the three wearing visors, floral-print pants, and sunglasses while holding back a flailing person. They laugh as the pair let go of Rumi, feigning innocence. Celine sighs, rubbing her temples.

“Let’s get back to the market,” she beckons them. “I can pick up some supplies while I’m down here too.”

The streets are packed with people as they scamper closely behind Celine from stand to stand. By the time Celine is done shopping, they settle down at a store for dinner.

“Four bowls of gogi-guksu⁶, please,” Celine asks the waiter. He nods and writes it down as he moves on to another table. She turns to the three.

“Mira, Rumi, Zoey,” Celine smiles tenderly, “I’m truly proud of you three.”

They tear up at her words. Words she rarely ever says.

“I’m glad that—” you didn’t end up like us. “—you grew up to rely on each other.”

The waiter comes back, setting the bowls on the table along with chopsticks and soup spoons.

“Now let’s dig in!” She chuckles, and the girls don’t need to be told twice before they start slurping down noodles.

GLOSSARY:

¹Oe-Halmeoni— Maternal grandma; polite. While "halmeoni" means grandma, it can typically be used to refer to other elderly women, not only blood-related. And "oe" is added in reference to maternal side.

² -ah (suffix)— A term added to names to denote familiarity; used when addressing someone of equal/lower status to the speaker.

³Hyung— Older brother to a (male) speaker; can be used to refer to blood-relations or any close, older male.

⁴Umma— Mom

⁵Ajumma— Middle-aged woman; polite. It can be used to refer to any middle-aged woman. Though not inherently bad, it can have slight negative connotations due to stereotypes, as well as sexism and ageism. As such, it can be seen as disrespectful to use towards younger women.

⁶Gogi-Guksu— A regional Jeju dish consisting of a light pork-based wheat noodle soup.

MORE FUN FACTS (About the Writing Process and Stuff):

• The last member of the "SUNLIGHT SISTERS" is never mentioned by name, so I gave her the name "Yoojin," meaning "precious."
• Iced Americanos are an extremely popular coffee choice in Korea. It's a whole phenomenon.
• White chrysanthemums, "gukhwa," are considered a mourning flower by many Asian cultures, including Korean.
• While fruits are a common grave offering, there's another reason Celine specifically chooses to bring apples specifically: In Korea, apples are often associated with apology because the words sound similar, i.e. both are pronounced "sagwa" (basically a pun).
• Rumi mentions brand deals in relation to plane trips, because it's a common practice for idols to wear luxury clothing to the airport as brand promotion. It's a big part of idol culture; idols have literally been chased by fans and paparazzi.
• The setting for this and the next chapter is based off the concept art for KPDH by @baeksimon on Instagram. (Links in doc.)
• Sujin is my headcanon for Zoey's Korean name. It has a lot of different meanings, one being "truth" (yes, very on the nose given the themes lmao sue me).

Chapter Text

TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of character deaths, not in detail, but heavy on grief.

Before the sun rises, Celine leads them to a giant dangsan tree¹ not far from her hut. Amongst the thickets of tall bamboo, the path is littered with more gravestones, each with the names of past demon hunters engraved and a single white flower laid on them. They’re well taken care of—though time has still worn away their edges—and Rumi wonders how long it must take her to maintain them all. She vaguely remembers impatiently waiting for Celine here as a kid, somersaulting and singing all over the place, but the passing years have dulled its freshness to only a distant memory. They stop at the tree's base.

Roots gnarl at their feet as the girls stare, jaws agape. Osaekcheon² ribbons made of heavy fabric drape from the tree's thick branches, swaying in the humid wind. A geumjul³ is tied around its trunk, ornamented by white mulberry paper strung throughout the straw rope. They’ve seen this tree before during their training period, but as morning light glitters on the fresh dew left on its leaves, every past experience pales in comparison to it standing right now.

Celine clears her throat. “Please, sit. This is going to be a long story.”

The girls take a seat on the dirt and grass.

“Before any of you were born—back when I was a demon hunter, along with Miyeong and Yoojin—Gwi-ma was more than just a fire. He had a physical form as the demon king.”

“A physical form?” Rumi mumbled.

Celine nodded. “Yes, a physical form. Why else do you think he’s desperate for more souls? He wants his physical form back so he can lead his minions to the mortal world and take over.”

“But then why didn’t you ever tell us?” Mira prodded.

“I thought—I never thought he’d get so close. Especially so soon,” Celine said. “The last time we fought him, he was severely weakened. I thought the hon-moon could hold him off until the next generation, you three, could finish him off once and for good. You didn't need to know he once had a physical form.”

“Wait, what? Hold on, I’m getting lost.” Zoey scratches her head.

Celine sits straight. “Then let me start from the beginning. 

"At the time Gwi-ma still had a physical form, he was raising an army to invade Earth. The only things left in his way were the demon hunters. Us. He sent his strongest general, Eunho, to kill us so that he could have a clean entrance, but more than that, it was a test of loyalty. Eunho was powerful, sure, but he was once human, and Gwi-ma knew humans had a tendency to be swayed easily. Especially since those who made deals with Gwi-ma in exchange for their souls often bore some sort of resentment towards him."

This story is all too familiar to Rumi. "So then why do they follow him?"

"Because he gives them what they want. The chance to forget their shame." Celine's voice is hollow as she says this. She raises a small rock before the girls and clamps her hand around it. "What he doesn't tell them is that if he wipes their memories, they lose every bit of humanity left in them and they become just another one of his minions. Their demonic forms corrupt even further until they're no longer recognizable."

When she lets go, the rock is nothing more than a pile of dust.

Jinu, no. Rumi's heart drops recalling what he told her the day at the fan meet.

"So then why doesn't he do that with every human right after they drop to the demon realm?" Zoey asks.

"There are two things to consider if he does. One, shame fuels demons' power as well as his control over them. And two, without that shame feeding them, he would have to give his own power, the souls he feasts on, in order to sustain them." As the wind picks it up, it knocks the dust out of her hand, specks sprinkling off between her fingers. "Why waste the opportunity to use a stronger player who's willing to do what he wants in exchange for becoming his minion? It was a win-win situation for him. Either Eunho would die fighting us and he'd get rid of a future threat, or Eunho wins and becomes his minion while he can freely take over Earth."

Mira crosses her arms. "And I'm guessing what happened was the former?"

"Almost. He didn't die, but rather fled with his tail between his legs. Your mother chased after him but she came back empty-handed. At first, we didn’t suspect anything. We kept going after him as small tears began opening up in the hon-moon. We were being driven half-mad trying to keep everything under control. But as time dragged on, I'd see Miyeong smile after every battle with him, whispers between clashing swords. Then some nights, she would disappear until morning, so one day, I followed her. Found out she was meeting with Eunho for dates. And that's when it hit me that she was actually stalling. Stalling for a demon.” The way Celine says it leaves an acrid taste in her mouth.

“I confronted her, but nothing came out of it. She told me he was different. That he was kind.

"That night we fought, Yoojin overheard. She was disgusted that Miyeong would risk our lives just to be with a demon, so after our contract, we formally disbanded. Despite that, I still stayed by Miyeong’s side to watch out for her as her best friend.” She closes her eyes, flecks of red passing in the darkness as a scene she’s replayed every day starts again. “Then, you were born. At first, I couldn’t believe it. A human and a demon? It went against everything I knew. I was horrified."

Rumi's stomach drops, bile rising in her throat.

"We argued again. Tears in the hon-moon were getting worse by the day. Eunho laid low for Miyeong, but with only two hunters, that did nothing. He was only staying passive at home with you while we worked day and night fighting off demons. I saw how Miyeong struggled between taking care of you and maintaining the hon-moon. But every time I tried to reason with her failed, so I had to face Eunho. I told him that to earn my support, he would have to destroy Gwi-ma himself—finally bring an end to his cruel reign. He agreed.

“We went by ourselves that same night. I couldn’t possibly put Miyeong in danger for this especially since she had a child, and Yoojin never wanted to speak to either of us again. Since we were planning to surprise him, I thought the two of us would be enough, but I was naive. Gwi-ma already knew the doubts in Eunho's mind—of his betrayal—and he ambushed us in the demon world.” Her body tenses at the recollection of hundreds, if not thousands, of demons clambering around her as she tried to fend them off. “I was only able to escape because your father sacrificed himself for me. But before he died, he managed to deal a fatal blow to Gwi-ma, leaving him in the state he's in now.

“When I came back, Miyeong was furious. Then she realized Eunho wasn’t with me.” She remembers how Miyeong fell to the floor, silently weeping as Celine stood there, worn and stunned.

“And that was when Miyeong's health started declining." Ghostly pale skin. Hacking, bloodied coughs. Wails deep into the night that kept her awake and haunted her dreams when she did sleep. It was all carved into Celine's mind with a dull, rusted blade. "She was growing weaker by the day, and we both knew she wouldn’t last much longer.”

Rumi tries to muffle her cries as Celine continues. “I'm so sorry. I tried to love you, Rumi. I really did. But those marks…I couldn’t face them after everything I did. I failed your mother, Yoojin, Eunho. I couldn’t protect the people I was supposed to. And now I failed you three too—”

Her words cut as Rumi squeezes her, Zoey and Mira joining.

"Why would you...?" Celine whispers, voice trembling, "I killed her. I lied to you three. It's all my fault. This is all my fault."

Rumi's mind blanks. Any word she tries to come up with is wrong, nothing enough to convey everything she wants in a simple sentence. She buries her head in Celine's shoulder as the only phrase she can muster up is, "No, it's not."

And those three words are enough for Celine to break down in sobs. The last bit of strength in her body melts. She can’t speak, but rather than her lungs weighing her down, this time, her chest is light. She can finally breathe again.

By the time they get back to the hut, it’s noon. No one’s particularly hungry, but they share a light lunch before saying goodbye. 

"And about your apology," Rumi starts, "We'll think about it." 

Celine gives her a confused look, then shakes her head. "I didn't say it so I could get your forgiveness. Saying it is already more than I deserve—"

"Don't sweat it!" Zoey jumps in. "We love you. We want to forgive you, we just...need some time to digest everything."

Mira nudges Celine with her elbow. "Yeah, you think you can get rid of us that easily?"

She smiles, almost choking up again. As the girls laugh, she gives a small, "Alright."

“We’ll visit again soon.” Rumi waves. “Stay safe?”

“Of course,” Celine nods, leaning against the doorframe. “Enjoy the rest of your break.”

“Will do!” Zoey yells, already paces away.

Once at the base of the mountain, they stop by Zoey’s grandma to pick up some food so she can stock up her snack cabinet and fridge. Despite insisting that one was enough, they don't leave until each of them is carrying easily a quarter of their body weight, stuffed to the brim with dried persimmon, ginseng candy, and multiple containers of banchan⁴.

“We’re totally gonna go to the bathhouse today, right?” Zoey asks, heaving from almost throwing her back holding her crate.

Mira nods, and shifts her box under her arm, freeing the other to help Zoey. “For sure.”

“Definitely,” Rumi says too. “I’m honestly kinda nervous—excited, but nervous.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fun!” Zoey assures. “Now let’s get this teleportation thing over with so we can go.”

Rumi laughs and sets her box on the ground, touching it with only her foot. She places a hand on their shoulders, breathes in, and the three disappear in a puff of magenta smoke.

GLOSSARY:

¹Dangsan Tree— A sacred tree in Korean culture, commonly used as a symbol of protection.

²Osaekcheon— Meaning "five-colored cloth." They come in the specific colors: red, green, blue, yellow, and white; and are used to help ward off evil spirits in Korean shamanism.

³Geumjul— AKA "taboo rope." It's a left-twisted straw rope that can be found on dangsan trees, which can be tied with pine, wood charcoal, red peppers, cotton, or white paper/cloth to keep out evil spirits and yin elements. (I only mentioned white paper because that was all that was on the concept art.)

⁴Banchan— Side dishes

MORE FUN FACTS (About the Writing Process and Stuff):

• Like I mentioned before, the setting is heavily based off the concept art by @baeksimon in Instagram. 
• I've seen the "Gwi-ma might be her father" theories, but I personally don't think they hold much water. BTS concepts already showed Rumi's potential father who is definitely not the same as Gwi-ma's concepts (tho he could've shapeshifted idk) and other proofs also have believable counterarguments. This is just my take on how it went down.
• Rumi's father is currently unnamed at this time, so I gave him the name "Eunho," meaning "graceful hero." (Can you tell I love playing with name meanings? haha)

Chapter Text

Two boys sit outside a café, one checking his reflection in the window and the other banging his head on the table. 

The waitress inside by the cash register shakes her head. She can tell just by the look of these two that they’re going to be her thirteenth reason (she decides to quit ofc, what were you thinking?). Despite the fatigue, she tells the rookie—her twelfth reason—to cover the register while she greets them.

“Hello, welcome to Sang-Sang Café! Can I get you two anything?” She says in a perfected customer-service voice, pen and paper in hand.

The one who was previously head-slamming responds, “Oh, we’re not here to order.” 

She closes her booklet and slips it back into her apron. “Then unfortunately, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Tables are reserved for customers only.”

“Well, in that case, we’ll need more time,” the other answers this time, wearing  the most punchable smirk across his face. “And might I say, you are quite the beauty.”

Yup. Her thirteenth reason. “Thank you," she laughs, recoiling in her skin as she stiffens her work smile. "Well, alright then, I’ll give you two a minute.”

After the waitress leaves, the longer-haired boy goes back to staring at any shiny thing that will hold his reflection. “Did we really have to change back, Minwoo?” He grumbles, toggling incessantly with his bangs. 

“Obviously,” the other answers. “Our other form is too noticeable now.”

“But—but pink hair!” He whines.

Minwoo shakes his head. “Will you shut up about your pink hair, Beomsu? Go buy some hair dye if you care so much.” 

“It’s not the same. You know I hate the maintenance,” he sighs. “And plus, we don’t have any money.”

“Didn’t we just reopen your bank account?” He raises a brow. “Neither of us are missing people anymore.”

“Yeah, but I have to save that for any dates I wanna go on.”

“What dates? You’re a demon!” Minwoo snaps, but Beomsu wags a finger in his face.

“Ex- demon. That deal with Jinu fell through since he, y’know, died.” He flips his hair, muttering, “Honestly though, I didn’t like him anyways. My back still hurts from when he made us sleep outside.”

Minwoo shoves Beomsu’s hand out of his face. “What does it matter if it fell through? We still don’t have our souls back. And now we don’t even have—Beomsu, what are you doing?”

“Shhh!” He hushes, then gestures to the table behind him. There’s three girls, fully decked out in HUNTR/X merch, chatting amongst each other. Minwoo leans over.

“OMG! I cannot believe we just met Rumi, Zoey, and Mira in person while they were on break,” the girl in a bucket hat swoons. “I think I can die happy now.”

Another in a baseball cap squeals, “For real! Tell me this isn’t a dream. Someone pinch me.” A girl in a ponytail complies. “Ow! I didn’t mean literally.”

“Sorry, Ahyoung,” she laughs. “But same. My mom is gonna totally freak when I tell her this!”

“Ugh, you are so lucky your mom likes to listen to the same things as you.” Bucket hat girl huffs. “Mine only listens to oldies.”

“Eh, I don’t know…my mom only really likes HUNTR/X.” She takes a sip of her smoothie. “Like, she hates the Saja Boys. Won’t even let me play their songs in the house. Something about them being the ‘devil’s work’ or something.”

“Right.” Ahyoung cuts into her slice of strawberry cake. “I always forget your mom is a mudang¹. Like, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but she’s mad superstitious.”

“Well, you get used to it after a while,” ponytail girl says. “Oh actually, you know, I think she told me it was because they were related to Jeoseung Saja²?”

“You mean like the grim reaper?” Ahyoung tilts her head, and the girl nods.

“Well, I mean if they were the grim reaper, I wouldn’t mind letting them take my soul,” bucket hat girl giggles, twirling her hair.

Ahyoung shakes her violently. “Pull yourself together, Hyesol! Stay strong. Saja Boys got nothing on our girls. Honestly though, how could they have won against HUNTR/X with their debut song? It wasn’t even that good!”

Beomsu gasps quietly. “How dare you!”

The girl furrows her brows, glancing around. “Did anyone else hear that?”

Beomsu and Minwoo whistle inconspicuously when the other two look around. 

“Hear what?” One of the girls asks.

“...Nothing.” She shakes her head. “But anyways, I can’t be the only one who thinks that, right? My bet is that they were industry plants. Think about it. They gained national—if not international—popularity in a matter of days with only one song. Then, they immediately fall off the face of the Earth after winning every possible award and dropping another single, which no one I asked could tell me the melody of it. Like how is that not suspicious?”

“I don’t know about the other song but ‘Soda Pop’ was pretty catchy to me.” Hyesol bounces her shoulders to the hum of the song’s tune. “Plus their company—’Gwi-ma’ or something—is like nonexistent, so how could they have been an industry plant?”

“But it just doesn’t add up. Whatever happened at their last concert is like a total conspiracy. ” She nudges towards the ponytail girl. “Nari, you were at the stadium that day, weren’t you? What do you think?”

The other girl’s hands are clammy, fidgeting with her straw. “Don’t ask me. I can’t even remember how I got to the stadium after the Idol Awards fell apart. Everything that day is just a blur—like I was in a trance or something.”

“Okay, but like they’re not the only odd ones.” Hyesol interjects. “It’s HUNTR/X too. One second, they’re singing “Golden,” the next they’re having a public breakup on stage with a crazy new diss track, and all of a sudden Rumi has real tattoos? How did she have time to get them and how did she manage to hide them from us? I mean, they're on her face too for god's sake. Then, after the whole shebang at the Idol Awards, they make up less in less time than I can say supercalifragiliciousexpialidocious.”

“What was that all about anyways?” Nari leans back. “I love them, but does anyone think that song felt a little too targeted at Rumi. ‘I see your real face, and it’s ugly as sin.’ Don’t tell me she’s talking about plastic surgery or, like, she was a bully or something. Dispatch would be snatching that up.”

“No, but look.” Ahyoung pulls up a video on her phone. “See how her muscle memory kicks in? Zoey and Mira couldn’t have made up the song and choreo on their own if Rumi knows the dance and lyrics too.”

Hyesol scratches her head. “So then why did they make that song in the first place? It’s so…mean—hella good, don’t get me wrong, like they are awesome songwriters—but it’s so not their usual style.” 

Shrugs but no answers.

“I’m sure it was nothing.” Ahyoung sighs. “But if anything, Rumi should go solo. It’s obvious Mira and Zoey had something against her if they pulled that kind of stunt in front of the Idol Awards. I mean, why would anyone sane be willing to risk their entire career like that? They were so close to winning. It’s giving major vendetta.”

“Listen, I’m your friend,” Hyesol starts, “But as devil’s advocate, who’s to say Rumi didn’t deserve it?”

Ahyoung waves a fist in the air. “You take that back!”

“Jeez! Okay, I take it back,” Hyesol swiftly surrenders. “You and your stupid parasocialism.”

“One, that’s not even a word. Two, you’re literally the same way,” Ahyoung points out. “But for real, what could Rumi have possibly done? After her mom died and Celine took her in, she was homeschooled in the freaking mountains! When would she possibly have time to bully people? And who? The wild animals? Do you really think she bullied Zoey or Mira? Not to mention those faces they were making during that song, like that was absolutely malicious. I even heard rumors that on stage, they whispered that she was a mistake. Ugh! Poor Rumi, she’s been through so much.”

“Honestly, yeah no, I see what you mean. I doubt Zoey or Mira actually said that—they’re so sweet —but Rumi’s definitely been through a lot.” Hyesol sighs. “Good thing they’re on break now. I’ll miss them, but they so deserve it.”

As Nari shakes her head in agreement, Ahyoung inhales the rest of her cake, then slams the empty plate on the table. “Guys, I think we should leave now.”

Hyesol gives a puzzled look. “Why?”

“Look over there.” She nudges her head to the table where Minwoo and Beomsu are sitting. “Those weirdos are listening in on our conversation.”

“Really? Are you sure?” Hyesol lowers her voice to a whisper. “How can you tell? What if they're just cringe-fail losers on an awkward date?”

“Maybe…They haven’t been talking at all for the last, like, five minutes,” she explains, “Not to mention, they didn’t order a single thing yet. No coffee, tea, cake? Just holding the menu—and that one’s not even holding it right!”

Beomsu slowly turns his menu around and Minwoo shakes his head.

Nari gasps. “Oh my god, you’re right!”

“Duh, I’m always right.” She picks up her bag. “Come on, girls. Let's leave.”

“Wait! Hold up, isn't that guy with the long hair kinda cute though?” Hyesol mutters. “Do you think he's an idol trainee?”

Beomsu flashes a grin, pleased at least one of them notices his beauty.

“Oh please, he's too old looking for that. Mid-twenties maybe?” Ahyoung rolls her eyes and his face drops. “I bet he's just some rando pretending to be one if at all.”

Hyesol sucks on the straw to her empty drink, giving a stunned side-eye. “Damn girl, did he murder your dog or something? Like that was an unnecessary read.” 

“He was literally eavesdropping on us,” she says, exacerbated. “Let’s go before anything bad happens.”

It takes a minute for the two girls to drag Hyesol out of her seat and shuffle off, making the occasional glance behind them in case they were being followed. They were not. Rather, the pair was still bickering at the table. One cursing his rotten luck to be stuck with such a fool, and the other moping about his (not so) old age. 

Minwoo groans, feeling the sudden urge to defenestrate his fellow colleague from a ten-story building. “You are so lucky I need your money.”

Beomsu coos, “Aw, poor Baby doesn’t have a credit card of his own.”

“Call me that one more time and I promise I will rip each of your fingernails off one by one as you sleep.” Minwoo’s threat was enough to shut him up. He massages the bridge of his nose. Why did he ever agree to that deal? Of course, he knows the reason though: his dignity was a small price to pay for fame. But now that the dust had settled, it was too late to take back a deal with the devil. “I wish Cheolhyun-hyung was here.”

“Man, you were so much nicer back when we were just trainees,” Beomsu pouts. “You never call Zayn or me ‘hyung’ anymore.”

That’s because I don’t respect either of you, Minwoo thought, but he decided to keep his mouth shut to avoid further whining. Instead, he ignored the comment entirely. “We need to figure out a way to get them back.”

“How? Do you not remember them disintegrating? They went ‘poof!’ Like this.” Beomsu demonstrates with his hands, wiggling his fingers out from the center, accompanied by his very own sound effect of a boom. “I can't imagine they could've survived that.”

“They can't be dead!” Minwoo snaps back, startling both of them with his reaction. 

Beomsu scratches his head, hair pulling back too. He rests his arms on the table, head facing away from the other to the busy street. “Hey, I know this is hard…for the both of us, but trying to cling to the past isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

Minwoo grits his teeth. Why did he always pick the worst times to be wise? “So what? You want to just give up on them?”

“I'm not ‘giving up,’ I'm facing reality.” He turns back to Minwoo. “They're gone.”

“No, they're not. I can’t—I won't believe it until I see it for myself.” 

“So then where exactly do you think they would be, huh?” Beomsu yells, louder than he meant to. “Listen, I—”

“Excuse me,” the waitress from earlier interrupts. She’s still plastering on a smile, but the one on her face is different, much more unnerving than before. The two gulp. “Get the hell out of here. You’re being a nuisance.”

The cafe patrons around, inside and out, all give the pair side-eyes with their drinks and desserts frozen in their hands. 

“Aha,” Beomsu chuckles forcibly, a poor attempt to smooth the situation over. “I truly, deeply, very much apologize. We’ll be on our way.”

Minwoo kicks a pebble on the gravel path into the grass, quietly sulking as the boy beside him rambles on.

“How mortifying!” Beomsu shrieked. “Now a restaurant, sure, but never in my life have I been kicked out of a café. With this face? Moi? Tell me the truth, am I still pretty?”

Minwoo gives an absent-minded, “Sure.”

The other stops, bewildered by the not‐soul-crushingly-mean response, but Minwoo only notices when they’re a few feet apart.

Beomsu sighs. He walks halfway between, then holds his hand out. “If you’re dead set on finding a body, fine. I’ll help.” For a second, he swears Minwoo smiles as the boy meets him in the middle.

As he reaches for his outstretched hand, Beomsu adds, “But if they’re dead, promise me you’ll let them go.”

For a moment, there’s a pause, but then Minwoo nods. “Deal.”

But before the two shake hands, Minwoo spits in his then grabs Beomsu’s as he screams bloody murder.

“You animal! ” He wipes his hand on an unfortunate tree, crying. “This is something Zayn would pull, not you.”

"I guess I’ve been influenced." Minwoo shrugs with a smirk. “Maybe next time, don't put your guard down.”

“You—!” A string of curses flow out of Beomsu, sounding almost enough like a coherent rap to impress Minwoo if it wasn’t for the fact that it was also pitchy.

A mother walks by, covering her child’s ears and shooting them dirty looks that screamed "if it wasn’t for my child, I would not hesitate to beat them up in a public park." The glare is enough to shut Beomsu up and they both bow deeply as she and the kid pass by.

After she’s gone, Minwoo fails to stifle his cackle as Beomsu gives him a noogie, half in tears. And for that minute, there’s a hope that things might turn out alright even if it’s just them two from now on.

GLOSSARY:

• ¹Mudang— Female shaman. In Korean shamanism, female shamans are more common than their male counterpart, baksu. Shamans in general are called, "mu."
• ²Jeoseung Saja— Basically Korean grim reaper, who leads souls across the Hwangcheon Road. (Also who the Saja Boys' outfits during the last concert where they sing "Your Idol" is based on.)

MORE FUN FACTS (About the Writing Process and Stuff):

• This chapter is inspired off of the very last scene in the movie, the three girls being the HUNTR/X fans the girls talk to. I just gave them names since it's a bit awkward to refer to them by description only. Mayhaps they'll be reoccurring, idk for sure yet.
• The Saja Boys' real names (given by me) are based off of that one picture of the idols in Healer Han's office because I absolutely believe that theory that they were a failing (trainee) idol group that kept getting their debut pushed off.