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1.
It was their second meeting. Or third.
It was getting a little hard to track, since the Saja Boys kept appearing out of nowhere, and of course, Jinu had to rub it in her face every time they did. But it was the second-or-third time they’d been alone together. The second-or-third time someone besides Celene had acknowledged her patterns and not shamed her for it.
It was kind of nice.
Rumi’s patterns felt itchy as hot guilt pooled in her chest. Her hand ached for her sword. “I don’t trust you,” she said.
“You shouldn’t,” Jinu said breezily, although it was clear from his body language that he wasn’t fully relaxed. Rumi could see the tenseness in his shoulders, as if ready to block her sword with clawed hands. The same was true of his stance. Solid, but with coiled energy. His pants were tailored enough to allow for movement…
“Like what you see, hunter?”
Rumi pulled back, flustered. “I-I wasn’t—”
“Because so many people do,” Jinu continued. He closed his eyes, which just pissed her off more. He knew what she’d been doing, and now he was flaunting it—
Rumi called forth Sain-geom and swung it towards him, but he jumped back, expecting the strike. He winked at her and disappeared in a cloud of pink smoke.
2.
“We beat you this week,” Jinu said.
“The charts are rigged,” Rumi countered. “Besides, we’ll beat you next week.”
“Will you rig it too?” Jinu asked. He shook his head. “Face it, hunter, we’re just better than you.”
Rumi scowled. “I saw Baby sleeping during your last live.”
Jinu looked like he wanted to argue before his expression grew thoughtful.
“Not gonna defend your maknae?” Rumi said, which made Jinu laugh way harder than Rumi expected. She frowned, stepping back. “What?”
“Just dying of laughter.”
“You’re already dead.”
“Technically,” he said. “I’ve already died.”
Rumi rolled her eyes. “Is Baby not the maknae?”
Jinu smiled. The mirth hadn’t left his eyes, and it made something flutter in Rumi’s chest when they sparkled. “He’s actually the oldest.”
“No!”
“By a few centuries, give or take.”
“Why the heck is he Baby then? I just thought it was a stage name.”
“Most of us lose our names,” Jinu said. “I curried enough favor from Gwi-Ma to keep mine, but otherwise, I could have been just another Baby, Abby—”
“Dorky,” Rumi supplied.
Jinu groaned, and she tamped down the sense of comfort rising up inside her. This wasn’t like couch time with Mira and Zoey. She was with the enemy.
Wasn’t she?
3.
“I can’t believe that ajumma thought we were on a date. Bleh!” Rumi heaved her shoulders and made a sour face. When Jinu frowned, she added, “You liked it, didn’t you?”
He just raised an eyebrow. “Bleh.”
Rumi shoved his shoulder, causing him to miss a step. Just because she didn’t want him didn’t mean he shouldn’t want her!
Jinu, to her irritation, just laughed. “I told you,” he said, “you’re not my type.”
“I’m everyone’s type!”
“Why are you being so insistent?” Jinu asked. He faced her with a sly grin. “Maybe you liked it, and you’re projecting.”
“Projecting?” Rumi sputtered. “I never—”
“You,” Jinu butt in, “are the most projecting-est person I have ever met.”
“Projecting-est?” Rumi’s cheeks grew red. With anger, of course. “Says the guy who sent a tiger after me because he was projecting over a glimpse of my patterns!”
As Jinu said nothing, the quiet of the street became more obvious. Somehow, they’d started walking even closer together, only a hand’s width apart. Rumi pointedly stepped to the left, causing Jinu to roll his eyes.
“I did not send a tiger after you,” Jinu finally said.
“You signed the note.”
“I sent a note after you. The tiger…” A pause. “The tiger does what he wants.”
“You’re one to talk,” she muttered.
4.
“What’s on your mind?” Rumi asked.
When she’d first met Jinu, she’d looked for weaknesses. She sought places to plunge her blade after he’d revealed himself as the demon he was. Now his weakness was less a stabbing point and more something that caused her… concern.
Not worry. She wouldn’t worry about a jerk like Jinu.
“I’m still trying to understand,” Jinu replied. He gestured towards her arm, and Rumi self-consciously tugged at her sleeve. “How is it that you carry his patterns, but not his voice?”
“I…” she said, “I just don’t.” Who needed Gwi-Ma’s haranguing when she was her own worst critic?
He stared, and Rumi could swear she saw a flicker of gold in his gaze, a liquid shimmer that belied his otherwise placid expression.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I’m glad.”
“Glad?”
“That you don’t hear him.” He looked up, his eyes cast on the past. “It destroys you.”
Weakness. The hunter in Rumi was purring. Or was that her demon side, finding pleasure in despair? She pushed both aside, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder.
“I may not hear him,” she said, “but I think everyone has a voice inside telling them they’re not good enough.”
“Everyone,” he scoffed.
“No, really!” Rumi thought of Mira’s toughness and Zoey’s aggressive cheer, and how both of them hid their feelings underneath.
“It’s not the same,” Jinu said, voice laced with a growl. His muscles tensed under Rumi’s hand, but she didn’t pull away. She probably should—angry demon bad. But…
“I wonder…” she said. Jinu wasn’t all bad. Was it possible for him to break free? She side-eyed his glare. “Never mind.”
5.
Somehow they’d ended up at the aquarium.
The glass walls of the tank were cold. It was a pleasant contrast between the heat of her skin and the burning blush that Rumi had tried to hide under foundation. She spread her fingers, watching as fish swam past.
“You know,” Jinu said, “I’ve never been to one of these before.”
“Never?” Rumi asked.
He laughed, humorless. “Gwi-Ma didn’t allow field trips.”
“So, what, you just dined and dashed?”
Now the laugh was real. It was nice making Jinu laugh. “A hunter joking about eating souls. Now I’ve heard everything.”
“It’s not like I condone it or anything!” Rumi said, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, well.” Jinu stared back into the tank, face bathed in blue light. “It has been… nice. Not having the same constraints. He’s not listening right now, for one.”
“So he usually listens?” asked Rumi. She’d said more than she’d intended to say to Jinu during their dates meetings. At her obvious panic, Jinu shot her a chagrined look. “Tell me he doesn’t know.”
“He… doesn’t,” Jinu said. “It’s easier to ward against him up here. It’s part of the reason I agreed to the Saja Boys plan.”
“You’re telling me he came up with it?”
“Well…”
Rumi smiled. The momentary shock was settling back down. “I’m sorry, but this scheme has Jinu written all over it.”
“...guilty,” Jinu said. It sounded like a grumble, but his smile told another story.
1.
“Jinu!”
“You gave me my soul back.”
Rumi’s heart thudded in her chest. She’d been so angry with him, so lost in her haze of fear and regret. Then the idiot had gone and given up his unlife for her.
“And now… I give it to you.”
The night finished in a kaleidoscopic blur. Rumi’s emotions were too big for her to process. All she knew was love, love, and the pin-point righteousness of destroying evil. It was only when Gwi-Ma disappeared and she and her girls were floating above the arena that she felt something.
A familiar presence surrounding her. Not beside, but within.
It was possible to break free.
It just took trust and betrayal and sacrifice.
“Night, girls,” she called, heading to her bedroom. After the door closed behind her, she breathed out, then manifested her sword. She set it near the window.
“Good night, Jinu.”
Good night, Rumi.