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To say it’s the first thing Jinu notices when he comes to again wouldn’t quite be accurate. Even if it’s only done so subconsciously, he’s aware of the tinny, high-pitched ringing in his ears, the way it burns to breathe, the full-body ache and how he’s going to be bruising later, and the distant chatter of voices— but Jinu doesn’t acknowledge any of those things. Not immediately, at least.
The first thing he acknowledges is the bitter taste of blood in his mouth. Demon blood— Jinu unfortunately knows the difference— as well as the source, considering it’s coming from his own tongue. Did he bite it? He parts his mouth to try and breathe but ends up just wanting to hack up the growing wad of blood in his mouth. Jinu swallows it instead— mistake, it hurts to swallow.
It hurts to do anything, but Jinu, albeit dazed and confused, forces his eyes to open. There’s moving lights and lots of chatter— people surround him on all sides. Some part of him thinks danger, all too reminded of being similiarly surrounded the very first time he was pulled into the demon realm, and almost summons his claws on the spot. Thankfully, Jinu has enough sense to suppress this urge, quickly realizing that the people surrounding him are human, not demons. Big difference.
A light is waved in front of his face. Jinu flinches from it, causing an unfamiliar face to enter his line of sight. “Oh! You are alive! Good, good, it would be a shame for such a handsome face to die.” The voice comes from an older woman— she’s in workout clothes, a little visor keeping any strays out of her face. Her lips are pursued looking down at him, like she’s trying her hardest not to grimace. “Bad joke? Can you hear me, boy?”
Jinu’s eyelids flutter, forcing his battered voice to respond, even if it hurts. “Ye—” pain, more than he expected, but he’s ready for it the second time, “Yes. I… Can hear you.”
He’s wheezing more than he’s actually speaking. One by one, little details hit him. He’s lying on the pavement, somewhere in the city, but he doesn’t think he could pinpoint where. He’s heavily injured and has attracted some kind of crowd— all of which look concerned, some morbidly curious while others take charge, forcing others to back up. Many have phones out, some with flashlights on. It isn’t all that dark but the sun is starting to fade in the sky, leaving mostly artificial lights to pick up the slack.
There’s not just one older woman hovering near him, but three. Two of the ajummas are talking to each other, both with concerned faces and their phones out, but the third keeps his eyes on him. “Think you can tell me your name? Or what year it is? Or—”
“Stop asking him so many questions!” One of the others turns to scold her. “Does it look like he can answer them?”
“I thought that’s what you were supposed to do!” She protests, looking faintly offended. “He might have a concussion, shouldn’t we keep him awake?”
“The poor boy just got hit; give him a few minutes to wake up first!”
Hit. All at once, Jinu remembers the crushing impact. The lights, the yelling, the way he flew afterwards—
A car. Jinu hadn’t been paying attention. He doesn’t remember what he was doing but he knows that much.
In all honesty, Jinu is a little surprised this didn’t happen earlier. When it comes to demons, he might be more adept at handling the modern world than most but he’s not perfect. He knew enough about modern vehicles and has seen plenty of other demons take a hit before but that only went so far. He could only gather traffic laws from what he observed from others, not wanting to explain why he, a twenty-something looking adult man, didn't understand basic, modern laws that never existed in his time.
He knew he should’ve asked Rumi, embarrassment be damned. He’s certainly paying for it now.
As quickly as he can currently handle, Jinu reassesses his situation with the new information in mind. He discovers three things he didn’t fully realize before.
One, something is definitely broken. Probably a rib, or three, or five. His ribcage feels like it’s screaming at him for so much as trying to breathe.
Two, that hit might’ve killed him if he weren’t a demon, or at least done a lot more damage. But Jinu is pretty sure he’s not actively dying so, at least he’s got that going for him.
And three, his disguise is still up. Jinu is particularly happy about that one. Getting hit by a car isn’t fun regardless but at least he doesn’t have to deal with headlines like, ‘Jinu of the Saja Boys: Hospitalized after taking a bad hit from a speeding car! Saja Boys fans are out for blood!’
Right now, he’s just a regular civilian to these people. Someone they probably just want to ship off to the hospital to make sure he doesn’t die.
The thought is calming, until it isn’t. Because Jinu, a demon with fundamentally different biology than he used to, absolutely cannot go to the hospital. These people might not see anything wrong with his blood but a doctor will. Jinu only has a rough idea of how his body has internally changed since becoming a demon but he really doesn’t want to think about how that looks to regular people.
He needs to get out of this. Now.
Battered or not, Jinu thinks he can still teleport. It’ll suck but he could do it. Issue is, there’s too many eyes on him right now. He needs— a distraction of some kind? Anything to get them to turn their attention away from him. But… How? Jinu probably could get up but thinking about it makes him internally cringe. If he’s in blinding pain just from laying here, how bad will it be if he tries to stand? What if he's overestimating himself and will pass out the second he tries?
His answer comes in the form of sirens. An ambulance converging on his location. Panic hits first, until Jinu sees attention divert away from him in favor of the incoming medics. It’s a risk— a terrible idea to vanish while in such plain sight— but Jinu isn’t about to find out what modern doctors think of his demon physiology. The second no one is paying attention to him, he uses all his power to teleport as stealthily as possible.
Seconds later, his absence will cause confusion and panic, but no one will have seen the smoke, nor the exact moment that the injured stranger suddenly winked out of existence.
—
Jinu was right: teleporting hurts.
His bed cushions his fall better than the pavement ever could but a choked out wheeze still leaves him as Jinu finds himself back in his room. The lights are off and the hallway is silent— Huntrix still isn’t back yet then. It leaves Jinu free to cough and almost hack up more blood, vision swimming so violently that Jinu is nauseous from that alone.
He counts himself lucky to have such a safe place to hide away. He’s only been staying with Huntrix for a month now and while two of the three Hunters still don’t fully trust him, being able to live in their tower keeps him safe from any demons who hate him more. Considering the other Saja Boys are still regenerating, Jinu needs all the allies he can get. Mira only glares at him when he does or says something she finds suspicious, which is greatly preferred to all the demons who might’ve tried to tear him apart the second they saw his face.
If any of said demons saw him like this, Jinu would be nothing but an easy target to them. But inside Huntrix Tower, even if they did know where he was hiding, they wouldn’t dare try to reach him. The threat of Hunters keeps them away.
As much as it hurts to exist right now, Jinu knows he’s safe again. It’s a nice feeling, helps with the overwhelming pain that floods his senses.
It’s easier to point out things that don’t hurt than it is for things that do. He’s pretty sure the only thing that’s broken is his ribcage. He can still move his fingers and toes. He can still feel everything, for better or for worse, more so leaning towards worse. The back of his head is in screaming pain but if Jinu turns to press his cheek into the pillow, it isn’t so bad. He’s bloody and battered and broken, but…
Jinu thinks he’s been worse. No voices in his head, no outside danger to worry about, a comfortable place to rest— and he’s not dying on top of it all. Yeah, he’s definitely been worse. Everything hurts but at least the pain is only physical and not lethal.
His eyes droop shut, exhausted by his own agony. He breathes shallowly to offset some of the pain, which does help some. He’s a bit cold, sure, but he really doesn’t want to move right now. Getting under the covers sounds like more trouble than it’s worth.
All he wants to do is… Sleep, if he’s being honest. Sleep until it doesn’t hurt as much, in this little pocket of safety he’s somehow lucked himself into. That sounds nice.
It’s not a bad idea either. The very first piece of advice Jinu ever got upon becoming a demon was that if an injury wasn’t lethal, a demon could survive and eventually heal from virtually anything. Sleeping helped speed that process along, conserving and replenishing demonic power that the body desperately needed to repair itself.
…Well, okay, Jinu is paraphrasing here. The exact first piece of advice he had gotten was, “Find someplace decent and sleep it off.” but the sentiment was the same. And while Jinu, having been battered and bruised at the time, was skeptical of what he had been told, it was true. It never stopped being true.
And in the quiet of the tower, there’s nothing stopping Jinu from closing his eyes and doing just that.
—
Someone is knocking at his door.
Jinu blinks wearily, sunlight streaming into his room and informing him of how much time has passed. Not enough, he thinks to himself. Not nearly enough to heal the damage done to his body. He doesn’t feel all that different— it all still hurts like hell. Jinu wants to go back to sleep and continue to do so until it stops hurting to breathe.
He wants to go into… What did Zoey call it? Hibernation? That.
But the knocking at his door is persistent. Jinu doesn’t think it’s going away anytime soon. Reluctantly, he raises his voice to answer. “Ye— yeah?”
He sounds horrible. Rough and tired. Considering it hurts to speak, Jinu would love to forgo speaking altogether. What good does it do him here?
He’s not the only one who thinks he sounds horrible. “…Jinu?” The voice— Rumi, he realizes, how did he not know that?— says again. “Are you okay? Can demons get sick?”
Yes but that’s not the issue here. Too long of an answer. “I’m not sick.” Jinu says instead. There. Simple, easy, less talking. Who runs his mouth too much now, Gwi-Ma?
…Hm, bad thought. Too many unpleasant memories associated with it. Too much to deal with right now.
“I don’t think I believe you when you sound like that.” The door clicks and swings slightly as Rumi enters his room. Oh no, Jinu thinks, seconds before disaster. “Did you lose your voice or— OH!”
Rumi stops dead the second she really looks at him, jaw dropping so far that it might as well be unhinged from her skull. Jinu knows he has seconds to say something before she assumes the worst. With the harsh pounding against the inside of his skull, Jinu can barely think past the aching pain. Later, he will admit that his choice of words could’ve been better.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He says. Which is probably true, unless she’s aware that he’s not dying. Then it’s exactly as bad as it looks.
Rumi does what any good Hunter does in times of crisis that are too big for one person to handle: she calls for backup.
“ZOEY! MIRA!” Rumi yells before frantically approaching him, hands hovering like she wants so badly to hold onto him but also doesn’t want to make it worse. Jinu internally debates on whether or not the comfort would be worth the potential pain, decides yes, but doesn’t get to voice it before Rumi starts talking again. “How did this happen? When did this happen? The blood looks dried— Jinu, was this last night?”
“Yeah.” He croaks, then coughs and feels another ripple of pain shoot through him. Jinu was wrong, it seems. He did heal slightly— he’s not coughing up blood anymore, just choking on his own spit. Progress.
A flicker of frustration passes over Rumi’s face, though it only seems to mingle with the worry. “And you didn’t say anything?”
“Tired.” Jinu manages. No matter how much it hurts, he doesn’t want to leave Rumi hanging when she looks so distraught. Over him no less. “Wanted to sleep.”
A myriad of emotions flicker on her face before Rumi seems to soften, ever so slightly, as if realizing something. What she realizes, Jinu doesn’t know, only that she moves to carefully assess his injuries. The more she does, the more her concern seems to grow. Jinu wants to say something but all the reassurances in his head just sound like lies.
He also knows from experience that, ‘It’s fine, I’ve been worse’ isn’t a reassurance for Rumi, so he can cross that one off the list.
“Hey, what’s going—” as Mira and Zoey enter the room, they freeze, the same as Rumi did. It’s almost comical, except Jinu isn’t in a mood or place to laugh.
He must look really bad if even Mira looks paler upon seeing him.
“I’ll get the first aid kit!” Zoey all but sprints out of the room.
Mira is only a second behind her. “I’ll get some water and towels.”
“Thank you.” Rumi calls, fixated on him. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?”
“…Kinda?”
“‘Kinda?’”
“Accident.” Jinu elaborates. The sooner he explains, the sooner he can stop talking. “Car.”
Rumi’s eyes get big. Just as Zoey is returning, her voice raises. “Is this because of a hit and run?”
He… Doesn’t know that exact terminology but he can take a guess what it means. “No. They were still there.”
“But someone hit you?” Zoey clarifies, already taking things out of the box and handling them to Rumi. Rumi clears some space on his nightstand to organize what she needs. Jinu nods slightly— still hurts, but hurts less than talking if he’s careful about it. “What happened with them?”
That’s a good question. “Dunno?” Both girls look very alarmed by this. “Teleported.” He clarifies.
“You got hit by a car and immediately teleported away?”
“That’s what happened?” Mira returns, balancing a bowl of water in one hand and a few towels over her arm in the other. Zoey takes the bowl from her, allowing her to adjust the towels. “Damn, how fast was that car going? You look fucked up.”
He doesn’t know and Jinu really doesn’t care, so he makes another ‘I don't know’ noise. Rumi grabs some scissors and tells him, “I’ll probably have to cut that shirt off, I don’t think you’re in a place to raise your arms above your head.” Smart, he isn’t. “Do you think you could sit up at all?”
Could he? Probably. Does he want to, knowing how much it’ll hurt? God, no. He makes a face that makes Rumi look at him sympathetically. “We can probably do this laying down then.” Turning to Zoey and Mira, she asks, “Could one of you get ice packs?”
“On it!” Zoey hands the bowl back to Mira and is gone again before he can blink. Rumi has Mira soak one of the towels while she carefully and precisely cuts his shirt off, getting rid of as much of it as she can so she can see the skin underneath. Some parts don’t come away as easily as others, the dried blood making it stick to his skin, but Jinu bites his tongue and only makes small, gasping breaths so Rumi can do her job.
“You’re doing great.” Rumi praises, even though Jinu isn’t really doing much at all. He doesn’t voice that, just nodding minutely and trying not to let tears prickle his eyes. When she’s finally done, Zoey has returned with an absurd number of ice packs and Rumi finally takes one of the damp towels from Mira to wipe down the blood on his body. It comes off easily but there’s noticeably a lot of it.
The damp towel is cool against his skin. Jinu’s eyelids flutter shut on their own but the second they do, Mira suddenly and loudly cuts in. “Ah— no. No more sleeping until we know you don’t have a concussion.”
Wordlessly, Jinu protests. He’s fine, he just wants to sleep this off. Attempting to tell them as much doesn’t go over so well.
“You need treatment first.” Rumi insists. “Trust me, you’ll recover a lot faster when your body doesn’t have to do all the heavy lifting. So please, keep your eyes open for the time being.”
Begrudgingly, he does. No matter what he says, the three of them seem to think leaving him alone is a terrible idea. At this point, going along with it is saving everyone the trouble.
They work in tandem, Rumi cleaning him up and getting whatever she asks for from Zoey and Mira, who are quick and silent. His skin is cleaned of blood, dirt, and dust. His wounds are wiped over to better clean them. Ice packs are wrapped up and gently laid on his bruised ribs, numbing the pain. Any extra gashes and cuts he earned are bandaged. Little by little, Rumi handles everything.
“The back of your head is bleeding,” Rumi notes, “But I’m not seeing a whole lot of signs of a concussion beyond that.”
“So I can sleep?” He mumbles. Rumi exchanges a look with Zoey and Mira as if trying to get a second opinion. When neither protests, she huffs.
“Yes, we think you can sleep now.”
Jinu’s eyes shut near automatically. Keeping them open for that long was a battle in its own right. Relief settles into his bones when he doesn’t have to fight as hard to keep consciousness.
But he still has manners, so Jinu whispers to them, “Thank you.”
He gets no verbal response, only feels Rumi’s hand gently brush the stray hairs out of his face right before his body seems to give out once again.
—
Consciousness returns and leaves him more than a few times, fickle and brief. Each and every time it does, his body still hurts like hell.
And each and every time it does, Jinu is never alone.
He sees Rumi first, sitting by his bedside, looking worried sick and sleepless. She jolts when she sees his eyes flutter, gently cupping his face and searching him for signs of… Something. Jinu is too tired to really process what, only knows that when he leans into her touch, her eyes soften. It’s the last thing he sees before he goes under again.
The next time he regains consciousness, it’s not Rumi, but Zoey. She’s got a notebook in her lap and tapping the blunt end of a pen against it, face twisted like she’s trying to think but struggling with something. Once she sees he’s awake however, Zoey grabs a water bottle with an adjustable straw and urges him to drink. Jinu does, in small sips.
“Rumi..?” He asks, hoping his question will be clear. After a beat of blank staring, Zoey catches on.
“Oh! We finally got her to sleep. We’re taking shifts now, don’t worry.”
Worry? Jinu’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m not dying.” He says carefully. Didn’t he say that already?
“We know.” Zoey replies. “But you look pretty bad. Better to be safe than sorry, right?”
Talking still hurts but less than it used to, so Jinu forces out, “I just need to sleep it off. I’ll be fine in a few days.” More or less. A few aches and pains might linger.
At this, Zoey’s face morphs, even more disquieted by his words, which is the opposite of what he wanted. “I think,” she says slowly, “It’s better if you’re not alone right now.”
Jinu doesn’t have anything to say to that. Slowly but surely, exhaustion pulls him under once again.
He sees Rumi again, then Zoey once more the next two times he wakes up, drinking water and answering questions about how he's feeling but not much else each time, before he finally opens his eyes to Mira, reading a book on the same chair the other two have been lingering in. Did they specifically bring that chair in just to watch over him while he slept?
“Oh good, you’re up.” Mira snaps the book shut like she doesn’t care about losing her spot. “Listen, the other two have been nice enough about it, but somebody has to put their foot down here.”
From that sentence, Jinu could expect a lot of things. All of said things are immediately proven wrong by the next words out of her mouth.
“I made soup and you’re going to eat it.”
Jinu stares at her like she’s gone mad, or maybe like he has. But lo and behold, Mira picks up and pops the lid off of a container full of soup and takes out a spoon. She stares him down, daring him to refuse. Jinu is too bewildered to try.
“It’s room temperature now but it should still be fine.” She informs him. “I will feed you myself if I have to, don’t test me.”
That finally sparks Jinu into reaching out to take the container and utensil in question. Mira watches him like a hawk, ensuring he really does take a sip. It’s mild, seemingly mostly broth so he has something easy to process, but it feels nice on his throat and Jinu knows he could use the energy, so he eats.
Not all of it, but Mira looks more than satisfied that he makes it three-fourths of the way through before finally handing it back. As she sets it aside, Jinu can’t help but say, “I must look pretty bad if even you’re worried.”
Mira shoots him a look he can’t decipher. “I read something interesting the other day. Apparently some unknown guy got hit by a car but mysteriously vanished just as the paramedics got there. Nobody saw it happen. Everyone is baffled. They’re still looking for him.”
More of a response than he expected. “Think I’ll become an interesting urban legend?” He jokes weakly. “Maybe they’ll think I was some sort of spirit, out to test their good will towards strangers and rewarding them for helping.”
“Maybe.” Mira says, not a hint of humor in her voice. “You know everyone sees you as a person, right?”
Jinu blinks. “…Yes?” He replies, weaker than he means to be. Mira’s mouth presses into a thin line but she shakes her head, dismissing the idea of a reply, so Jinu is left with nothing more.
He shuts his eyes with a silent sigh, then doesn’t open them again as he abruptly drifts off.
The next time he wakes up, Zoey has one of her devices propped up and playing some sort of animation on his nightstand and a controller in hand. She waves it around, smiling a little nervously.
“Hey.” She greets. “I don’t know about you but I get stir crazy when I’m in bed for too long. You wanna play a little Mario Wonder with me? The controls are pretty easy to get used to.”
Jinu has no idea what that is, but he accepts the controller and squints as Zoey walks him through the character options, controls, and rules of the game.
“You’re choosing Peach?” Zoey smiles at him like she’s somehow getting some kind of secret information from his decision. Nonetheless, Jinu nods slightly.
“I like her dress.”
“Me too!” Zoey agrees as she picks ‘Blue Toad’ for hers. “When in doubt, let me take the lead on something. Don’t worry if you’re bad at the game, I assure you, I’ve seen worse.”
At his curious look, Zoey leans and whispers, “Mira is not good at platformers.”
Jinu lets out a breathy laugh. Zoey seems to take that as a personal victory.
He’s conscious for longer this time. And when he does fall asleep, the next time he’s up, all three of them are in the room.
Zoey and Mira still have Zoey’s device up, arguing about what game to play. He hears Zoey say, “We can’t play Mario Kart— that’s in bad taste!”
To which Mira groans and says, "Yeah, you’re right, but give me better options. I am not getting dragged around by you in yet another platformer.”
They haven’t noticed his consciousness, but Rumi has. She sits on the bed, right beside him, and gently runs a hand through his hair. No longer afraid to touch him, it seems.
“Hey.” She whispers, almost lost in Zoey and Mira’s back and forth. An easy smile forms on Jinu’s face.
“Hey.” He greets back. “I’m okay, I promise.”
“I think your version of okay and mine are different.” She points out, and yeah, okay, maybe she’s got him there.
“I could probably get up right now.” He says in hopes of getting his point across. Rumi just shakes her head however.
“Stay in bed for a little while longer. For my sake, okay?”
It’s hard to deny her that, after seeing her worried sick before. “Just a little longer.” He agrees. “I’ll take it easy.”
Zoey and Mira have finally decided on a game. The deceptively cute style takes him off guard when he sees the pair of them use their little lamb and goat respectively to tear down strange, spikey monsters with different weapons. Funnily enough, Zoey’s character is the one with the big axe while Mira’s has fast claws for weapons.
Jinu tilts his head back to whisper conspicuously, “I think they might actually tolerate me now.”
Rumi snorts softly. “What gave it away? Was it the fact that neither of them liked seeing you hurt?”
“That certainly helped. Though willingly hanging in my room without stabbing me definitely got the point across.”
He means it as a joke but Rumi doesn’t laugh this time. “People care about you, you know.”
Jinu senses he went wrong somewhere. “I know.”
“So you don’t have to brave your pain alone.”
“You live a busy life, Rumi. I’m a pretty recent addition to that. I just wanted you to know you didn’t have to wait around with me if you had other things to do. And don't say you didn't because I know you've been planning your comeback already.”
“I didn’t have to. I wanted to.” She corrects. “And so did they. I know you’re the only full demon in a house of Hunters, and me and the girls have been friends for such a long time that you don’t want to intrude on our dynamic, but… You can take up space in my life, you know?” Rumi looks down at him, meeting his gaze. “I want you to. Because you’re important enough to me that I want to make space for you too.”
It occurs to Jinu that it’s a little easier to ignore his aching body when he’s got company like this. It gives him something else to focus on— if they weren’t here, it would just be him and his thoughts, and god knows what his thoughts can be like.
“Thank you.” Jinu finds himself saying. “For being here. For wanting me in your life. For… All of it. Everything. Thank you.”
“Of course.” Rumi says, like it was the easiest thing in the world.
The warmth of Rumi’s presence keeps him grounded. The noises from Zoey and Mira’s game and their chatter throughout it keeps his thoughts from straying too far.
Jinu remembers the first time he had to sleep off an injury alone. It was fitful and miserable, but he endured it. He also remembers the first time he had company for it— both in the form of blue fur and dark feathers, as well as when it was a steady voice, gold eyes, and a constant presence by his side.
It was always better with company. Jinu doesn’t know how he forgot that.
“Once you’re recovered,” Rumi tells him quietly, “We’ll be running a crash course on cars and other vehicles you don’t want to get hit by, pun intended.”
Jinu snorts loud enough that both Zoey and Mira finally realize he’s awake.