Archive of Our Own

“You’re going to see her again, aren’t you?”

Jinu stops dead in the entrance. The letter he received had him curious and eager mere minutes ago, but now that mirth is forgotten. Reality sets in, heavy and cold, and Jinu remembers himself. What he’s been commanded to do, and what can never be.

Most of all, he’s reminded of the feelings that never see the light of day. Long buried, and yet, never stop haunting him.

“Yeah.” Jinu turns at last, feigning neutrality. Acting has become second nature ever since he ended up here, and when Jinu needs to hide his growing fears, it’s the first mask he reaches for. Using it on someone he should be trusting with the truth only causes more shame to stir in his gut, but Jinu can’t help it.

If Gwi-Ma learns Jinu has considered Rumi’s plan for even a moment, there will be hell to pay. If he learns that Jinu is barely thinking of the plan anymore when he accepts her invitations, god knows what will be left of him. And since Gwi-Ma uses every demon as his eyes and ears, even those Jinu would trust otherwise must remain in the dark.

(There is another reason why Jinu doesn’t want to tell him about his outings with Rumi, but if Jinu doesn’t acknowledge it, then the guilt might not grow to an overwhelming degree and drown him.)

Staring at him from halfway across the room, Baby doesn’t seem to be buying his act, even if he doesn’t outright say it. He’s the only one home, likely the only reason why he’s confronting him now at all, and if anyone could see right through his facade, it’s him. Jinu knows Baby can keep a secret for plausible deniability’s sake, but even he has his limits it seems.

Sometimes, it’s a terrifying thing to be known.

“That’s the second meeting in a row.” Baby says slowly, implying things in his tone that make Jinu have to swallow back a nervous laugh. “You didn’t say much about the last meeting. I thought nothing happened.”

“Nothing worth talking about.” Jinu repeats, a bitter lie that he’s forced to swallow. “She sent the letter. If she wants to talk, that gives me more opportunity to learn more about her. Get the upper hand.”

The same old story, repackaged and shipped over and over again. To Gwi-Ma, to Baby, maybe even to himself.

Whatever it takes to stay out of the line of fire, even if Jinu finds himself entertaining the idea of risking the heat.

She thinks he can be saved. Him. Jinu isn’t sure he believes the plan will work, but when was the last time someone gave him hope like that? Despite himself, he holds onto it. Cradles it. A dying ember in his chest that isn’t snuffing out as quickly as he thought it would.

“You don’t think it’s a trap.” Not a question, Baby already knows the answer so Jinu won’t deny it.

“No, I don’t. If she wanted to ambush me, she would’ve done it by now.”

“It sounds like you trust her.”

It’s a damning thing to say, especially because it’s true. He does. Against all odds, Jinu really does trust her. She won’t trap him. She won’t betray him. If anything, she has to worry about the other way around, but for whatever reason, she trusts him too, and knowing this makes him ache.

“She’s predictable.” Jinu forces out, shrugging nonchalantly. “I trust that.”

For a long pause, Baby says nothing at all. Then, “Don’t let your guard down.”

Turning away, Jinu replies, “I won’t.” and finally leaves.

The heaviness in his gut remains, even as he teleports up to the human realm and puts his glamour back on. Try as he might, Jinu knows exactly where it comes from. The guilt that’s been slowly crushing him, subtly at first, until it finally hit him all at once.

Because Jinu likes Rumi. A lot. More than he should, considering their roles, but it’s not just that. If it were just their situation keeping them apart, he could work with that. Maybe even find some sort of solution, no matter how pointless it would seem.

It's also because of him. Baby.

Jinu knows he shouldn’t be. He has nothing to feel guilty for— they broke up over thirty years ago. They agreed it wasn’t working and that they were better off as friends. It was awkward for a while but Jinu buried his feelings. Told himself he’d get over him eventually.

Except he’s not. He still loves him. And it’s not cheating in any capacity if Jinu isn’t dating either of them, but the combined guilt eats him alive.

—

Being around Rumi is easier than it should be, considering what they are.

It’s been centuries since Jinu had the chance to spend time in the human realm like this. No collecting souls, no work for the Saja Boys— just a great view, the time to enjoy it in its entirety, and someone to talk to. Someone who, despite being so much better than him, understands him.

If he were asked, Jinu would say he was gathering intel, but if he was honest, Jinu would probably call himself selfish. Stealing moments away with Rumi for himself, betraying both his side and Rumi’s trust in a lose-lose situation. By all accounts, he should pick a side and stick to it. Believe in Rumi’s cause and join her, or turn his back on her and betray her.

Both options split him in half in different ways, so here he is, still on the fence even as he speaks with her quietly, leaning over the railing of a rooftop garden and looking out at a city he was dooming. But it's beautiful tonight, sparkling with more light than he has ever known, so Jinu doesn't know how to look away.

There were a lot of things Jinu didn’t know how to resist when it came down to it. Too little restraint for the things that mattered, yet still too much to ever allow himself to be genuinely happy. He didn’t deserve that much but he could never stop himself from wanting despite it.

Tonight’s outing with Rumi was more of a Q&A than anything, but she bribed him with food so Jinu went along with it. The pork belly she brought was long gone— it barely lasted five minutes once Jinu got a taste of it.

“How did you get so many brand deals so quickly?” Rumi asks.

“Romance has a way of talking his way into opening doors.” Jinu answers.

“What are the tiger and magpie exactly?” Rumi asks.

“The running theory is spirit guardians, but none of us have ever met a spirit guardian before, so we don’t really have anything to compare them to.” Jinu answers.

Over and over, watching as the sky darkens and the temperature steadily drops. The night feels like it could go on forever, and some selfish part of Jinu wishes it would. To trap this moment in a bubble that will never pop.

But Jinu hasn’t been that lucky in a long time, and when Rumi asks, “Have you had many relationships before?” he hears it pop.

“Uh.” Jinu stumbles, freezing like a deer in headlights. Rumi takes one look at him and backtracks.

“Not— I don’t mean that in a weird way. I just mean— you’ve been around for four-hundred years, surely you’ve had some?” Rumi seems to wince at her own words, looking away quickly. “You don’t have to answer that.”

It’s an easy way out. Jinu should take it— would take it, most days.

He doesn’t know what’s different about this one. Maybe because something about Rumi makes him a bit more honest, dangerously so. In a way that could ruin everything if he’s not careful. But after centuries of suppression, the first breath of fresh air is hard to let go of.

“I, um.” Jinu leans over the railing so he has an excuse to look anywhere else. “Just one, if you can believe it.”

“Just one?” Rumi sounds surprised. At this, Jinu can’t help but laugh and shoot a smirk her way.

“What? Think I should have more?”

He gets shoved for that, almost tipping him sideways, but he doesn’t feel very apologetic despite it. “Shut up.” Rumi tells him. “I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised given your situation.”

“If it helps, I’ve only had one actual relationship.” Jinu tells her. “But I’ve been intimate with people outside of it. During my time in the palace, mostly.”

“…And by ‘Intimate’ you mean?” Rumi raises an eyebrow. Jinu coughs awkwardly.

“I was uh, drunk or tipsy, most of the time. So I couldn’t tell you the details.” Anything to make him feel numb to the burning shame growing over his chest. “Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Right.” Rumi is smirking a bit now, looking at him like she’s seeing some new side of him. “So, this one relationship of yours…”

“Past relationship, we broke up.” Jinu clarifies.

Rumi’s attitude shifts immediately, somber, softer. “How come?” She asks, and it spills out of Jinu before he can stop himself.

“There was a lot of outside pressure put on us. We were arguing more than ever, struggling to keep the spark alive, and I just… I didn’t want to lose him. Not completely.” Jinu admits the last part quietly. He hates that Gwi-Ma got into his head and affected his relationship but it was better to end it before that inner turmoil was turned on Baby again. Better to end it on okay terms before Jinu ever got the chance to spoil it.

“‘Him’?” Rumi repeats, like she wasn’t quite expecting that. Jinu jolts, abruptly fearing he revealed too much, but Rumi holds her hands up in surrender. “It’s okay, I’m not judging! I like both anyways.”

Slowly, Jinu feels his tension deflate again. “Oh.” He utters out, at a loss. “Me too.”

She smiles at the admission, wiping away any regret of saying it before it can reach him. Jinu can’t remember the last time he was able to freely admit that. Probably when he was still with Baby.

“Sorry about your relationship.” Rumi tells him once they’ve both relaxed again. “It kinda sounds like you miss him. But at least you ended on good terms, right?”

“Yeah…” Jinu breathes out, a small, mildly hysterical laugh leaving him. “We’re still close.”

“You are?”

“Yeah.” He says again. Then, before he can stop himself, “He came with me, after all.”

Rumi goes quiet. Jinu can hardly blame her— he shouldn’t have said that. Shouldn’t have mixed his two worlds any more than they’ve already been mixed.

Rumi really does make him too honest for his own good.

—

Rumi sends him another letter two nights later. There, she makes her push for him to join her and believe in her plan, and when her voice reaches him, something inside of him is ignited.

For a split second, Jinu is free. No shame, no guilt, nothing but the light in Rumi’s eyes and the warmth of her hands in his.

Then she leaves, and it all comes crashing down.

Baby is the one to drag him home when Gwi-Ma is done with him. Jinu gasps feverishly when he’s laid down on his mattress, vision swimming and hearing Baby’s voice as if he’s underwater. Baby moves methodically, cleaning the blood from under his claws and pressing a wet towel to the side of his head, up against the wound he caused when he tried to tear the memories out of his head.

It never works or does anything to help, of course, but in his state of pure agony and desperation, Jinu hadn’t been thinking of that at that moment. He had only been trying to get the flood of memories to stop.

As the coolness of the towel slowly stabilizes his racing thoughts, Jinu hears Baby hiss old curses under his breath, jaw tight and tense. “He wants us to bring him souls and then turns around and does this shit? He’s so fucking lucky you bounce back fast.”

Jinu groans, voice gravely from screaming. A little rest should fix it for the Idol Awards but it’s sore right now.

He can feel Baby’s gaze fixate on him before he looks. “Jinu.” He says, low and quiet. “What the hell was that?”

It’s an honest question. If Jinu really looks at him, he can see all the things Baby probably wouldn’t want him seeing in any normal circumstance. The tension, the concern, the fear. The vulnerabilities he can no longer hide at a time like this. Ones that Jinu dare not point out, or else they’ll vanish in the blink of an eye.

In the face of it all, Jinu can’t think of anything to say. It causes Baby’s mouth to twist, drawing conclusions before he can stop him. “Was it the Hunter? Did she do something to get you in trouble?”

Yes, but not like you’re thinking. Jinu wants to say.

She wanted to set me free. We could’ve all been free.

I did this to myself. I shouldn’t have hoped.

It wasn’t her fault. Please don’t blame her.

None of it comes out. What does is, “It… It doesn’t matter.”

Jinu closes his eyes, feeling lifeless. He exhales slowly, head turning to press into the pillow behind him. It didn’t work. He can’t be saved. He can’t be anything but selfish. He can’t change and he can do nothing but hurt everyone he’s ever gotten close to.

It’s what he does best.

“Nothing matters.” He whispers, unsure who he’s saying it to.

He hears Baby huff but not leave. The cold towel presses back to the wound, numbing the pain, and slowly, Jinu lets himself drift, uncaring of where he ends up.

—

The Idol Awards arrive. Jinu feels the heat of Gwi-Ma’s gaze on him grow especially hot when they cross paths with Huntrix.

Rumi doesn’t even look at him, so self assured that everything is going to plan that she doesn’t think to doubt it. She sees good in him. Believes the best in him.

Jinu does what he does best, and tears all of that down.

Rumi is angry when she finds him again, but not angry enough. That persistent hope, that stubborn part of her that sees something in him worth saving— it’s still there despite it all. Jinu looks upon it with numb eyes, turning to leave it behind, but she grabs hold, refusing to let him.

At the mention of his family, he cracks open, and something ugly crawls out.

When he finally teleports away, it’s with a burning bridge at his back.

Jinu assumes his place among the other Saja Boys, joining them at Namsan Tower. The atmosphere is tense but Jinu can hardly bring himself to care. When Baby’s eyes find him, they bring questions with them. Searching him for something, but what, Jinu is too exhausted to figure out.

“Songbird,” he murmurs when he draws close, the nickname said with soft reverence that he does not deserve, “You good to do this?”

There is no other answer Jinu can give when they are this close to the end. Gwi-Ma is watching. The taste of forgetting it all is on his tongue. There is nothing else to do but say yes. No other path to take— they’re all full of embers and choking smog.

“Let’s get this over with.” Jinu replies. He hears Gwi-Ma rumble a laugh in his head.

That’s the spirit, Gwi-Ma says. Well then, are you ready to forget it all?

Memories flash in his head. His family, being forced to back away from the gates. His little sister, crying out for her brother. A familiar bruise, but no less agonizing.

Then, a curveball. First, the memory of holding hands with Rumi, her eyes so full of hope and determination that it had been infectious at the time. It burns, the wound still fresh, and Jinu nearly flinches from it.

Then, memories of unrestrained laughter. Of a body, lying against his, cheeks reddened with alcohol, looking up at him with adoration. The memory aches— Jinu can’t remember the last time he saw Baby that happy. He hasn’t heard him laugh like that since they broke up.

His throat bobs. Gwi-Ma’s voice returns. All the memories that plague you will be forgotten. That’s what you wanted. Your shame, forgotten.

The weight of it really sinks in. How much of him will be left when it’s all said and done? Will Jinu remember that he had a family at all? Will he forget Rumi completely? Will he even recognize Baby afterwards?

At least you won’t be able to hurt them anymore.

Maybe they’ll finally be able to be free of you.

Jinu shuts his eyes, blocking everything else out. When it comes time for his performance, he puts on the last show he might ever do.

His smile is wrong. His energy is off. Jinu doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, but it’ll all be over soon, so why does it matter?

Then there’s a voice— a singular voice that cuts past everything and commands the room. Jinu knows who it belongs to before he sees her, and suddenly, the end isn’t as near as he thought it was.

—

The Hunters all stand as one, broken free from Gwi-Ma’s influence and their own despair, and march forward. While Jinu remains rooted in place, he sees the others rush past him, ready to clash with Huntrix head on.

While her fellow Hunters break off to deal with them, Rumi does not. She marches forward, sword in hand, her gaze steady. She looks at him, unwavering, and Jinu feels his heart twist in his chest. Gwi-Ma’s voice is in his head, urging him to move, to fight, but Jinu still can’t move a muscle.

Someone else does instead.

Jinu didn’t realize that not all of the other the Saja Boys left when they did until now, because abruptly, a fourth shadow dashes past him, launching himself not at the other two Hunters, but at Rumi. Her eyes widen and Rumi raises her sword quickly enough to block the incoming strike, forcing him back again.

Baby stands between him and Rumi, eyes blazing and teeth bared. He looks like an oncoming storm, wild and powerful and dangerous to anyone who isn’t prepared for it. “Stay the fuck away from him. You’ve done enough!”

“What?” Rumi gawks, surprised, offended, and a little bit hurt all rolled into one. When Baby strikes again, she’s quick to meet him, blow for blow. Defensive but holding her ground, eyes narrowing on him. If Baby has become a storm, then Rumi is the defensive wall that refuses to fall to the winds. “All I wanted to do was save him!”

“Yeah, you look real friendly, advancing on him with your sword out.” Baby scoffs at her, not believing a word she says for even a second.

“I need my sword to defend myself from demons like you.” She hisses right back, forcing him to retreat again. Her demeanor switches, stance shifting, no longer content to only defend herself. “If you try to stop me from doing what I came here to do, I’ll kill you.”

“If you try to get any closer, I’ll kill you.”

Neither back down for even a moment, both fully ready to deliver on their respective promises. Their roles switch— Rumi, the storm; Baby, the wall. No matter what, the outcome if they clash remains the same: one of them won’t make it out of it alive.

And no matter who it ended up being, Jinu would find himself devastated by the result.

Jinu’s voice dislodges from his throat at last, croaking out a, “Wait!” That has both of their heads turning. For a split second, they both falter. They look at him like if he asked, they would back down. They look at him like they still trust him despite everything.

Memories flash in his head, remembering how they both had looked at him before. Jinu’s chest twists. He really doesn’t deserve either of them.

Any response Jinu was planning to give dies in his throat however, when a roar from Gwi-Ma alerts all three of them to the incoming blast of fire sent their way. Rumi moves quickly, sword out and taking the brunt of the blast head on to block it from getting any further. Baby, now behind her and shielded from the blast, takes a few steps back, but can’t go any further.

A ring of fire has sprouted up around them, blocking them from any teleportation either could pull off in order to escape the blast. Rumi strains against the attack, losing ground little by little despite her best efforts. She won’t be able to hold it forever. Gwi-Ma means to kill her— kill both of them.

If you want to do nothing, then stay there. Why does it matter to you? Gwi-Ma hisses in his ear, fury evident. You’ll forget who they are soon enough.

Baby, realizing he’s out of options, joins Rumi and throws his own strength behind her sword. Rumi’s eyes dart over but keeps pushing regardless. Their loss of progress slows, but doesn’t stop.

Even together, there’s only so much they can do against Gwi-Ma.

Jinu is moving before he knows what he’s doing. The fire is scorching, agonizing, and all consuming, but when he looks ahead of him and sees the shock on Rumi and Baby’s faces, safe and sound, even for just a moment, he can’t help but feel relief.

“Jinu, what—” Rumi’s hands hover, eyes frantically searching for a solution to save him from his own damnation. Never willing to accept defeat unless she’s exhausted all other options. His own pain becomes background noise, his attention purely fixated on them.

“No, no— you— you fucking idiot, what are you doing?” Baby’s voice raises to a shout, fists clenched and shaking. He knows what this means, maybe even better than Rumi does. Demons can return from many things, but Gwi-Ma’s fire? Nobody’s ever returned from that.

“Saving— saving you.” Jinu manages to say, voice straining as agony fills his veins. His body disintegrates slowly but he’s on a time limit regardless. “The way you both saved me.”

“No— no, we were supposed to both make it out, we were—” Rumi’s breath hitches, tears brimming in her eyes, shining against the blaze of light behind him.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Jinu tells her— both of them, really— softly.

Before he can get another word out, Baby hisses out a, “Shut up. Don’t you fucking dare— you can’t do this to me!”

“I’m sorry.” Jinu repeats, the only thing he can think to say. “I am. But I don’t have much time left.”

“You would if you hadn’t—”

Any retort Baby was about to make dies in his throat when he sees the glow of Jinu’s soul, bright blue against his black hanbok. Both of their eyes are drawn to it, like it’s something beautiful to behold. His soul, beared to them. He can think of no one else who deserves to see it more.

“It’s yours.” Jinu whispers, smiling despite the agony, despite the devastation in their eyes. “It’s yours, so you might as well take it. I’d rather it go to you two than to him.”

Baby remains stock-still, horror at the reality setting in overriding his ability to move, but Rumi steps forward. Her face bears more pain than he wanted to leave her with, but when she outstretches a hand, Jinu’s soul answers the call. It swirls around her arm, then around her very being, and the edges of his vision begin to grow dark.

He doesn’t realize it until he’s almost gone but there’s no more voices in his head. No more Gwi-Ma whispering poison in his ear.

There are worse ways to go, Jinu thinks with a smile, and closes his eyes.

—

If things had gone to plan, Rumi had hoped to be celebrating their success with a certain demon. But now there were no celebrations, nothing having gone the way she thought it would, and the demon standing across from her isn’t the one she thought it would be.

Zoey and Mira passed out a while ago, exhausted by the day’s events. Rumi should do the same, but she can’t seem to will herself to sleep. Instead, her new sword lies on the counter between them, unfamiliar patterns carved into the blade, and thrumming with power Rumi only half recognizes.

Baby hasn’t taken his eyes off of it for a while. Rumi taps her nail against the counter, a jittery feeling in her system, and finds herself asking, “Are you sure it’s his?”

“I think after hundreds of years of knowing the guy, I can recognize his soul.” Baby replies, sharp and brittle. Every word out of his mouth since the Idol Awards has been like that, so Rumi tries not to take it personally.

She supposes, if she watched her ex that she still had feelings for sacrifice himself in front of her, she might not feel like being friendly either.

“And he can be pulled out of it again?”

“I don’t know.” He bites out. “How many demon souls do you normally store in your sword?”

Of course, Rumi can empathize all she wants, but Baby is still uniquely infuriating in a way that makes everything way more difficult than she wants it to be.

“Can you not be an ass for five seconds?” She snaps. Baby laughs, bitter and sardonic, which doesn’t bode well for his response.

“Can you leave me alone for more than ten minutes?”

“You can leave anytime you like! Join the others in the guest room! I’m not keeping you here!”

“No, but you’re keeping him here.” Baby jabs a finger at the sword. “But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve been stealing him away for days.”

“We were working together! He chose to come to those meetings— he’s the one who sent me countless letters!” Rumi argues back, frustration flaring in her chest. “I get that he’s your ex but that doesn’t mean—!”

“I didn’t tell you that.” Baby cuts in suddenly, his tone betraying the genuine shock that she knew such a thing. Rumi stops, then huffs, rubbing the side of her head.

“You didn’t have to. Jinu said he used to date one of you and after all that, it was kinda obvious he was talking about you.”

“He mentioned that? To you?” He asks, incredulous now, but Rumi keeps nodding.

“I was curious so I asked him about his dating life.”

“Just curious?” Baby is skeptical now. Rumi can’t even blame him for that one, groaning.

“Nothing was going to happen before the Idol Awards but maybe I wondered about after. So yeah, sue me, I found a way to ask if he was single without asking if he was single.” She shakes her head; the memory feels so far away now. A lifetime ago. “Imagine my surprise when I learned he was still hung up on his ex, who also happened to be his bandmate.”

“What?” Baby sits up, staring her down. “I don’t know what he told you, but he broke up with me, not the other way around. He doesn’t want me like that— he knows we don’t work.”

He honestly believes that, Rumi can tell. She finds herself shrugging, pointing out, “You’d have to ask him to know for certain but it sure seemed like he missed you to me.”

Baby’s jaw tightens just a tick. He looks away but tells her, “He wants you. You should’ve seen his face every time you sent one of those letters. Downright giddy. Would throw away all other plans just to see you.”

That brings a fluttery feeling to Rumi’s heart, try as she might to deny it. “We’re getting nowhere like this.” She says. “When we finally get Jinu back—”

“If we get Jinu back.” Baby says.

“When we finally get Jinu back,” Rumi repeats, more insistently this time. “We can figure it out then. Because it’s not like either of us are getting any closure like this.”

After a few beats of silence, Baby says, “Fine. But stop asking me questions I don’t know the answer to. If anything, you should know this shit better than me. It’s not like I’ve ever wielded a Honmoon weapon.”

He’s right, is the thing. And if Rumi doesn’t know, then… “Oh no…” She buries her head in her hands.

“What?”

“I’m gonna have to ask Celine.” Rumi’s reply is muffled and miserable.

“…And that’s a problem because..?”

“I kinda told her I was glad the Honmoon was being destroyed a few hours ago?” Among other things she really doesn't want to talk about right now.

More silence. Then—

Rumi snaps her head up to glare at him. “Did you fucking snort at me?”

Baby’s mouth is twisted in an odd sort of smile, like he’s trying to hide it. “Did you really say that?”

“Yes, I— don’t laugh!” Rumi smacks one of his hands lying on the counter, causing him to retreat, badly stifling his chuckles. “What the hell is wrong with you?"

“I didn’t expect that from you.” Baby says, which weirdly sounds like a compliment. He’s also still grinning, the first positive reaction she’s gotten from him since— well, maybe ever. It’s not like they’ve ever spoken to each other until today. “Damn, Hunter. Jinu sure knows how to pick ‘em.”

“Well,” Rumi says, realizing maybe this is taking a different turn than she thought it would, “You would know.”

He laughs again at that, and Rumi thinks, okay. I can work with this.

—

Rumi drops a stack of books on the table— gently, of course. She’s not about to damage priceless, one of a kind documents, some of which were passed down centuries ago.

Baby stares at the pile in trepidation. “…You’re way too excited about this.”

“I just had a great conversation with my adoptive guardian.” Rumi says, refusing to drop her chipper tone. “And have a lead in getting our mutual interest back, so yeah, I’m a little excited.”

“That’s a lot of books to go through.” He points out.

“We’re both on hiatus.” Rumi counters, patting the top of the stack. “We have nothing but time. So, get reading.”

She picks up the book from the top of the pile and slides it over to him. Baby looks down at it like he’s questioning how he got here but does open up to start flipping through the pages. Rumi takes one for herself and tells him, “Be thorough.”

“I will.” He waves her off, vaguely annoyed. “It’s part of the process, don’t interrupt me.”

She has to trust that he means that, but Rumi has also had to trust that he won’t kill her in her sleep, and vice versa. So trust has been a heavy handed currency lately and at this point, Rumi barely bats an eye at the idea of hoping her research partner is as competent as she hopes he is.

Some of the books are older than others, so Rumi takes care in turning the pages delicately, ensuring nothing gets torn, and gets started. They do have a lot to get through, but if anyone knows anything, it’s the old Hunters who researched the Honmoon, so it’s their best bet.

—

Days tick by. They find promising information, test it a dozen times, nothing happens, and go back to the drawing board.

Rumi can handle trial and error, but her impatience combined with Baby’s own is, as it turns out, a terrible mix.

“We’re going out.” Rumi abruptly decides one night, an hour after Mira warns her that if she tries pulling another all-nighter, she will strap Rumi to the bed until she falls asleep.

Baby, slumped heavily in his chair and blankly staring at the pages, asks, “Where?”

“Anywhere but here.”

“Why?”

“Are you turning down free food?”

He stands up quickly, only pinwheeling his arms slightly when he realizes his foot’s asleep. “Okay.” Baby half groans, rubbing his eyes. “Maybe we do really need to get out.”

Rumi calls their driver, Baby throws on a half decent hoodie, and they head out, unsure of where they’re going to end up.

Somewhere along the way, Baby discovers there are other demons still living in the city. Namely, demon merchants. And even more importantly, demon merchants who sell alcohol made to affect demons.

Somewhere along the way, Rumi agrees to buy him a bottle or two and decides to try some for herself. Promptly, she discovers how strong the stuff is. She only means to have a little, but then Baby smirks and calls her a lightweight, and she refuses to lose to him, and drinks way more than she told herself she would.

Somewhere along the way, they get home, drunk, clinging to each other for support, and giggling like madmen. They collapse on the couch without thinking. Baby’s cheeks are red and his eyes are bright and his smile is crooked but genuine, and Rumi can’t help but think it’s a pretty good look on him.

“I think I get it.” He tells her all conspiratorial-like, hushed and under his breath, though still slurring his words through the alcohol. Rumi tilts her head, letting it rest against the cushions.

“Get what?”

“Jinu.” He says. “You. I get it.”

Rumi sure doesn’t. “Get— get what?”

With unsteady hands, Baby reaches over and presses a finger to her forehead. “What he likes about you so much.” He says, like it should be obvious. “You— you’re good. You’re really good for him.”

Rumi blinks, slow like she’s moving through molasses. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He agrees, snickering at nothing. “You’ll be great together. Big— big happy ending. Like outta a love story.”

Gears turn slowly in Rumi’s head, but turn nonetheless. Something rings as missing in her head about the picture. Eventually, Rumi realizes what.

“What about you?”

“Huh?” Baby blinks heavily, seemingly slowly losing consciousness. He’s got nice lashes, Rumi realizes now that he’s up close. Baby’s physical traits are a weird mixture of handsome and pretty. A shockingly muscular build under his sweaters and hoodies, matched with perfect, smooth skin and silky hair. It’s a little unfair at times, honestly.

“What about you?” Rumi rolls to lay on her stomach so as to better look at him. “Don’t you want that?”

“‘s doesn’t matter.” He slurs, waving her off. “Doesn’t matter.”

He doesn’t elaborate. Rumi doubts he will if she asks.

“I get it too.” She says.

“Great.” Baby says. “Then when— whenever you get Jinu back—!”

“I get why he likes you too.”

Baby halts completely like he’s forgotten how to move. His eyes flicker over, meeting her gaze— gold, his eyes are gold right now. She doesn’t look away from them. She holds it, letting him search them for whatever he’s looking for.

He lets out a breath after a long moment and says, “Crazy. You’re both crazy.”

Through the haze of the alcohol, Rumi decides that’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard and bursts into uncontrollable laughter, whole body shaking as she loses her mind.

—

“So.” Zoey says, like she’s expecting something. Rumi raises an eyebrow back, mouth full of toast. Supposedly it's supposed to help with hangovers and nausea.

“So?” Rumi echoes back once she’s swallowed.

Zoey’s eyes dart somewhere else and back, repeating the process a few times until she gets the point. Rumi turns to look where she’s looking, finding Abby handing over a bottle of water to a very hungover Baby still draped across the couch. When she looks back, Zoey’s expectant look is even more obvious.

Rumi flushes. “It’s not like that.”

“Two demons?” Zoey grins, completely ignoring her. “For someone who’s never dated before, you got game! Also maybe you have a type. Probably got it from your mom.”

Unsure of what else to do, Rumi throws her other piece of toast at her. Zoey’s laughter turns heads, but thankfully, they have no idea what she’s laughing about, so Rumi’s mortification isn’t as bad as it could be.

—

It happens unexpectedly. They were just testing another theory— neither of them really thought that this one would work.

That is, until Jinu is kneeling in front of them, eyes fluttering like he’s waking up from a dream, and both Rumi and Baby can’t move a muscle. They stare, afraid to disturb what might be a wishful hallucination, but when his eyes fully open and Jinu breathlessly says, “Hi…” it finally urges them both to move.

It’s a bit unclear to all of them if they were trying to tackle him or hug him, but the end result of all three of them ending up on the ground remains the same. When Jinu bubbles a laugh however, just as disbelieving that he’s here as the two of them, it’s infectious. Impossibly so.

That’s how everyone else finds them. On the ground, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

—

“Sorry again.” Jinu tells her when he’s caught her alone, hours later. He had said he wanted to go up to the roof for fresh air, which still might be true, but now she’s starting to think that’s not all he wanted. “For how it all went down.”

“I know.” Rumi tells him simply. “If I’m being honest, I’m still a bit hurt by it, but I do forgive you. Baby mentioned that Gwi-Ma found out.”

“Ah.” Jinu winces slightly at the memory, looking away to face the setting sun. “Yeah, he did. He wasn’t very happy with me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” Jinu replies immediately. “Really, don’t be. You were right in the end, and look at us now.” He nods at the Rainbow Honmoon thrumming underneath their feet, steady and strong. “This is all you. Better than I could’ve ever dreamed of.”

“Whether you want to believe it or not, you’re part of the reason all of this exists.”

Jinu was the reason she began questioning if demons could be more than the soulless monsters she was taught they were. Their talks, their duet, his last sacrifice— it helped build this too. Rumi never would’ve thought any of this was possible before, and yet, the impossible keeps happening. First a new kind of Honmoon, now she’s pulled a demon out of her sword.

Remembering the latter causes her to clear her throat. “Hey, Jinu? I know you just got back but I have a bit of a difficult question to ask.”

“Already?” Jinu exhales and smiles wearily. “Sure, lay it on me.”

She’s never really done this before. Rumi hasn’t even been in any actual relationships— her ‘Boyfriend’ when she was nine doesn’t really count, and kissing that dancer girl when she was thirteen hardly makes her qualified for romance. She’s been too busy for anything else.

But Rumi doesn’t really do anything by half measures anyways, so she comes out swinging. “Do you have feelings for me?”

Immediately, Jinu chokes, sputtering on his own surprise. “I, uh—!”

“Because it sounded like maybe you still had feelings for Baby too.” Rumi continues, words gushing from her mouth like water from a crack in a dam. “And honestly, I fully get why. So if you only want him, you should tell him as much, but if you also want me… I’d be okay with that. Sharing, I mean. Is that something you’d be interested in?”

Jinu stares at her like a deer in headlights. “…I’m starting to regret not asking you to wait until I’ve been conscious for longer than a day.”

“Too late now.” Rumi half jokes, but Jinu steps forward, taking her hands into his, and presses a kiss to her fingers.

“I lied.” He tells her.

“About which thing?”

“About you not being my type.”

Rumi arches an eyebrow. “Considering your type is also Baby, I’m a little concerned about what that says about me.”

Jinu grins back. “I like terrifyingly competent people, what can I say? And for the record, I wouldn’t mind sharing either.”

Rumi leans forward. When Jinu tries to do the same, she dodges him and presses a kiss to his cheek, before stepping back.

“Talk to him first. Then we can continue.”

“You sure know how to motivate a guy.” Jinu takes a step back as well, and with a wink, disappears into smoke.

—

It’s golden hour when Jinu finds him. Baby wasn’t hiding really, he just wanted to be out of the way. The balcony of the guest room sounded like as good of a place as any, so Baby has been sitting on the ledge with one foot dangling over the edge for a while now.

The warmth of the sun’s rays on him feels good on his skin. He didn’t really get a whole lot of that down in the demon realm. You never really know how much you’ll miss something until you don’t have it.

“There you are.” Jinu leans up against the ledge next to him, arms folding in front of him. He’s already wearing his human glamour. He always did favor it over his demon form. “Was looking for you.”

“Yeah?” Baby tilts his head at him, carefully betraying nothing when he asks, “I thought you wanted some alone time with Rumi.”

“You noticed?”

Failed immediately, Baby chides himself internally. Can’t even pretend to be casual about this, can you?

Thirty years is a long time. If the time between their breakup were a person, they could’ve graduated and become a doctor by now. He really has no ground to stand on here, and he really needs to stop playing the role of the jealous ex. As Romance has informed him, green isn’t really his color.

“It was obvious.” Baby forces himself to brush it off and shrug. “And she’s been wanting you back for a month. Plus she’s kinda the reason you’re alive at all so, yeah, kinda owed her this one. Got out of the way.”

“You’re not in the way.” Jinu says, and it sounds like he’s talking about something else entirely.

Baby side-eyes him warily. Jinu meets his gaze steadily and begins to say, “When we broke up—”

“Fuck, no.”

Jinu grabs his shoulder before he can think about teleporting, or jumping off the ledge, whichever his impulse does first. “Hear me out for a minute. Please.”

He’s got that gentle pleading look in his eye, the one that makes Baby feel like freshly melted sugar on the inside— gooey and warm and far too sweet. It’s a dirty move to pull; Jinu knows how hard he folds when he sees it. That's the dangers of still hanging around a guy who dated you once and now knows all your secrets, and all the right buttons to push.

There’s no need to reply verbally. Jinu sees Baby slump his shoulders and launches into his speech. “When we broke up, I didn’t actually want to break up.”

“Confusing.” Baby tells him flatly.

“I know.” Jinu replies. “At the time, I did it because we were fighting, and Gwi-Ma got into my head and told me— a lot, actually. That I was being selfish for keeping you with me when I was making you miserable; that I was going to inevitably abandon you the second it suited me; that I… That I would lose you for good, if I continued the way I was. And I know I shouldn’t have but I believed him. And you know what happened next.”

He does. Some days, Baby really wishes he didn’t. The memory of their break up had felt like a confirmation that he wasn’t good for Jinu. Not like that.

Hearing all of that now however is… It’s like putting a balm over an inflamed part of his skin. Not a perfect fix, but feels like the first step in feeling a bit better.

This conversation is going weirdly better than he thought it would.

“Where are you going with this, songbird?”

“How do you feel about sharing?”

Baby squints at him, lost. “In general?”

“In a relationship.”

“With Rumi, I assume?” He asks and gets a nod of confirmation back. He can’t say he was expecting that, but…

Usually, and in general, Baby knows he can be a bit jealous. A bit possessive. He clings onto things and leaves gashes in them when he’s forced to let go. Being casual about his close relationships is a harder feat than the other way around.

If it were with someone random, some stranger, Baby doesn’t think he’d want that. He thinks it would cause that jealousy to flare up until he did something drastic, and nobody wants that.

But when he thinks about it being Rumi, weirdly, Baby doesn’t really feel that like he thought he would. Maybe because he knows her. Maybe because that fear of getting left behind is quelled a bit when it’s someone who has been oddly fair to him since they started working together.

Maybe maybe maybe, he can understand why Jinu likes her so much, and mean that in a very literal way.

“When you say sharing,” Baby says after a moment, “Does it go both ways?”

At first, Jinu has a perplexed look on his face, but then it clicks. “Oh— oh. Uh— talk to Rumi. It doesn't have to be but if you both, uh, want to, then it can.” Jinu’s face is oddly pink now. Baby’s eyebrows climb higher and higher.

He’s definitely going to mention this to the Hunter. Regardless of how she feels about him, she’ll be interested in this.

“So we’re back together now?”

“I mean, we should probably also talk to Rumi before we—” Jinu pauses when he sees the suffering look Baby is giving him. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re back together now.”

“Cool.” Baby grabs a fistful of Jinu’s shirt and yanks him forward, capturing his mouth in a kiss that he's been craving for thirty years. Jinu all but melts against him, and the knowledge that he really did miss him too makes his mind go blissfully quiet.

“Did you already do this with Rumi?” Baby asks when they break apart.

“I— no, actually.” Jinu replies, slightly out of breath. “She said to talk to you first before we did anything.”

An idea sparks in his head. A slow grin overtakes Baby’s face. “So you’re saying,” he begins slowly, “That if I asked really nicely, I could kiss your girlfriend before you do?”

Jinu’s eyes go wide. Baby pushes him away and teleports to the roof as quickly as possible.

Of course, Baby doesn’t even get to ask before Jinu teleports in behind him and tackles him to the ground. But he’s still made a fool of Jinu in front of his new girlfriend, so Baby thinks that’s enough of a win.

—

Moonlight pours in from the window, bathing the room in silver light.

On his left, Baby is curled into his side, nose pressing into his chest and a clawed hand resting on his stomach. He looks so peaceful in his sleep, so at ease, that Jinu aches seeing it.

On his right, Rumi has her head brushing against his own, one arm under his neck while the other hand rests on top of Baby’s on his stomach. She’s smiling faintly, having not really stopped since they all took refuge in her room, and Jinu hopes she never stops looking this content.

It feels like a dream to have them both here like this; the type Jinu would never want to wake up from. But he knows it’s real from the weight of their bodies against his, and the heat of their breath against his skin, and the way his heart pounds when he thinks about it, reminding him that he gets to keep this. For a very long time, if he’s lucky.

He could stare at them forever. Drink this image in so it’ll never vanish from his mind.

But their combined warmth makes him drowsy, and Jinu wants to trust that they’ll still be here in the morning, so he finally allows himself to close his eyes and drift.